"That we did boy" said Mr Chisholm. "The youngsters thought it a capital game, and the elders did not refuse to join in it. Yes, Harry, I made you the totum, and by-and-bye we shall have a game."

"Let us have it now" cried the children springing up in eager excitement. "Let us have it now; we have all brought our pins."

Mr Chisholm cheerfully acquiesced. The group gathered round a little table, each with a stock of pins displayed, to be staked on the game now about to be commenced. Look at the totum as Harry takes it up and balances it between the thumb and second finger of the right hand. It is only a piece of wood about half an inch long, cut away to a sharp point below, and having a slender spike thrust in at the top to serve as a handle. It is four square, and a letter is carved on each side—namely, "T," "D," "N," and "A." Each player stakes a single pin, and each in rotation gets his chance of whirling the totum. If, after whirling, the totum falls with the letter "A" uppermost, all the stakes become the prize of the player; if "T" is the uppermost letter he only takes one; if "N" appears he gets nothing at all; while "D" obliges him to contribute a pin from his private stock to the heap in the centre. Every whirl comes to be watched with as much eagerness as if a fortune depended on the result.

The nature of the game having been made sufficiently plain, Mr Chisholm leads off with a whirl which sends the totum spinning round so fast as to be almost invisible; but gradually relaxing its speed it falls at last, exposing upon its upper surface the letter "N," carved, if not with elegance, at least with sufficient plainness to show that it is a veritable "N" and no other letter of the alphabet.

"Nickle nothing," shout the children, as they clap their hands with delight.

Then Harry takes his turn. He holds the totum very carefully between his finger and thumb, poising it with intense gravity; then looks at the letter next him, twirls the toy backward and forward, and finally propels it by a sudden jerk from his fingers. It whirls like a top for a few seconds, watched by eager faces, and ultimately falls with the letter "D" uppermost.

"D put down" bursts from the merry group; and the boy looks very disappointed as he withdraws a pin from his private stock and places it among the general deposit. Grandfather enters into the fun with as much enthusiasm as the children, and the spirit of gambling has taken possession of the New Year party.

The smallest girl—four years old—next takes the totum. She places it between the thumb and forefinger, screws her mouth to make an effort, and placing the point on the table gives it a whirl. It goes round three or four times with a convulsive staggering motion, and at last falls, "A" uppermost, amidst a general shout of laughter and applause.

"A, take them all—Lizzy has got the pins"—and the surprised and happy child, proud of her success, gathers the heap to her own stock, while the others each replace a stake.

So the lively little game proceeds amidst varying success. Possessions grow and diminish as the totum makes its rounds; and before the game ends Mr Chisholm is reduced to his last pin. He holds it up with rueful countenance, confessing himself a ruined man, while the children clutch their treasures, and boast of their success.