Please see [Transcriber’s Notes] at the end of this text.

EVERY BOY’S BOOK:
A COMPLETE ENCYCLOPÆDIA
OF
SPORTS AND AMUSEMENTS.

EDITED BY
EDMUND ROUTLEDGE.

With more than Six Hundred Illustrations
FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS.

LONDON:
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET.
1869.

R. Clay, Son, and Taylor, Printers,
Bread Street Hill, London.

EDITORS PREFACE.

The twelve years that have passed since the first edition of Every Boy’s Book was published, have brought so many changes in our national sports and pastimes, and have seen the introduction of so many new games, that it has been thought desirable to remodel this work, in order to bring it down to the requirements of the present time. In carrying out this plan effectually, Every Boy’s Book has been almost entirely rewritten; and scarcely anything now remains of the old work except the title.

All the articles that were in the former edition have been thoroughly revised, and papers on Boxing, Canoeing, Croquet, Fives, Golf, Rackets, Sliding, Billiards, Bagatelle, Dominoes, Spectrum Analysis, Canaries, Hedgehogs, Jackdaws, Jays, Magpies, Owls, Parrots, Ravens, Boats, Cryptography, Deaf and Dumb Alphabet, Dominoes, Mimicry and Ventriloquism, Shows, Stamp Collecting, and Tinselling, appear now for the first time.

In carrying out this work much valuable assistance has been given by Professor Pepper, the Rev. J. G. Wood, W. B. Tegetmeier, Clement Scott, Sidney Daryl, J. T. Burgess, Dr. Viner, Thomas Archer, W. Robinson of the Field, Cholmondeley Pennell, and other well-known writers on sports.

The articles at the end of this work on American Billiards, Base Ball, and the Canadian sport of La Crosse, have been contributed by Henry Chadwick, the leading authority on these games in America.

Christmas, 1868.

PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION.

It would be impossible for a single author to produce a book of this description with a fair prospect of success, because it necessarily treats of many subjects; and a perfect acquaintance with some of the more important would occupy a lifetime. The reading and researches of one man would not be sufficiently extensive to embrace the rich variety of the materials required. Being fully convinced of this fact, the Publishers have endeavoured to obtain the aid of the most distinguished writers in the various departments of knowledge which the following pages are intended to illustrate. Thus each contributor, in furnishing his quota of information for the work, has been engaged in a congenial task, one best suited to his peculiar turn of mind, as well as to his individual acquirements, and one upon which he could, therefore, with the greatest ease and accuracy dilate. This brief explanation will show in what spirit the Publishers embarked in the undertaking; and the accompanying list of the writers may be received as a proof that they have succeeded in securing the services of the most competent authorities. With that portion of the book with which he was practically acquainted each of the following gentlemen has dealt: W. Martin, Esq., C. Baker, Esq., R. B. Wormald, Esq., J. F. Wood, Esq., A. McLaren, Esq., Stonehenge, author of “Rural Sports,” and the Rev. J. G. Wood, author of several works on Natural History, who also furnished some of the designs. The remaining illustrations are by William Harvey and Harrison Weir; and the credit for the able manner in which they have been engraved is due to the brothers Dalziel.

2, Farringdon Street,
February, 1856.

CONTENTS.

PART I.

EASY GAMES WITHOUT TOYS.

OUTDOOR.

HOP, STEP AND JUMP.

Make a mark on the ground at a place called the “starting point.” At ten yards’ distance from this make another, called the “spring.” Then let the players arrange themselves at the starting point, and in succession run to the second mark called the spring. From the spring make first a hop on one leg, from this make a long step, and from the step a long jump. Those who go over the greatest space of ground are of course the victors.

HOPPING ON THE BOTTLE.

Various games are in vogue among boys, in which hopping on one foot is the principal object. Among these is one which not only assists in strengthening the limbs, but also teaches the performers the useful art of balancing themselves upon a movable substance. A wooden bottle, a round wooden log, or something of that description, is laid upon the ground, a mark is made at a certain distance, and the players have to hop from the mark upon the bottle, and retain their possession while they count a number agreed upon. In the olden times of Greece, this was considered an exercise of sufficient importance to give it a place at the public games. The performer in this case had to hop upon inflated leather bags, carefully greased, and of course, by their inevitable upsettings and floundering, caused great amusement to the spectators. The sports took place on the Dionysia, or festivals of Bacchus, when the vintage was gathered in, and the victor was appropriately rewarded with a cask of wine. The rustics in many parts of England introduce a modification of this game in their rural festivals. Two men place themselves opposite to each other, the right knee of each being supported on a wooden cylinder, while the remaining foot is totally unsupported. When they are fairly balanced, they grasp each other by the shoulders, and endeavour to cast their opponent to the ground, while themselves retain their position upon their fickle support.

HOP-SCOTCH.

This is a game played by hopping on one foot and kicking an oyster-shell or piece of tile from one compartment to the other, without halting the lifted foot, except in one case, to the ground, and without suffering the shell or tile to rest on any of the lines. A diagram is first drawn similar to the [subjoined]. It consists of twelve compartments, each being numbered, and at its further end the pleasant and inviting picture of a plum pudding with knife and fork therein stuck. In commencing the game, the players take their stand at the place marked by a star, and “quoit” for innings. The object is, that of doing what every boy is supposed to like above all things to do, i. e. “pitch into the pudding,” and he who can do this, and go nearest to the plum in the centre, plays first.

Method of Playing.—The winner begins by throwing his shell into No. 1; he then hops into the space, and kicks the tile out to the star *; he next throws the tile into No. 2, kicks it from No. 2 to No. 1, and thence out. He then throws it into No. 3, kicks it from 3 to 2, from 2 to 1, and out. He next throws it into No. 4, kicks it from 4 to 3, from 3 to 2, from 2 to 1, and out; and so he proceeds till he has passed the cross and comes to No. 7, when he is permitted to rest himself, by standing with one foot in No. 6 and the other in No. 7; but he must resume hopping before he kicks the tile home. He then passes through the beds 8, 9, 10 and 11, as he did those of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, &c., and so on, till he gets to plum pudding, when he may rest, and placing his tile on the plum, he is required, while standing on one foot, to kick it with such force as to send it through all the other beds to * at one kick. If one player throws his tile into the wrong compartment, or when he is kicking it out, he loses his innings, as he does also if the tile or his foot at any time rests on a line, or if he kicks his tile out of the diagram.

FRENCH AND ENGLISH.

This is an old Greek game, and, like very many simple boys’ games, has retained its popularity to the present day. Its Greek name was rather a jaw-cracking one, but may be literally translated by “Pully-haully.” It consists of two parties of boys, who are chosen on different sides by lots. One party takes hold of one end of a strong rope, and the other party of the other end. A mark being made midway between the parties, each strives to pull the other over it, and those who are so pulled over, lose the game.

In this game, two leaders should be appointed, who must calculate the powers of their own side, and concert plans accordingly. The leader of either side should have a code of signals, in order to communicate with his own friends, that he may direct them when to stop, when to slacken, or when to pull hard. So important is the leader’s office, that a side with a good leader will always vanquish a much superior force which has no commander to guide it. For example, when all the boys are pulling furiously at the rope, the leader of one side sees that his opponents are leaning back too much, depending on their weight more than on their strength. He immediately gives the signal to slacken, when down go half the enemy on their backs, and are run away with merrily by the successful party, who drag them over the mark with the greatest ease. Or if the enemy begins to be wearied with hard pulling, an unanimous tug will often bring them upright, while they are off their guard, and once moved, the victory is easily gained. We have seen, assisted, and led this game hundreds of times, and never failed to find it productive of very great amusement. No knots are to be permitted on the rope, nor is the game to be considered as won, unless the entire side has been dragged over the line.

DRAWING THE OVEN.

This is a game not very dissimilar to the preceding, but not so much to be recommended, as the clothes are very apt to be torn, and if the players engage too roughly, the wrists are not unfrequently injured. The method of playing the game is as follows:—Several boys seat themselves in a row, clasping each other round the waist, thus fantastically representing a batch of loaves. Two other players then approach, representing the baker’s men, who have to detach the players from each other’s hold. To attain this object, they grasp the wrists of the second boy, and endeavour to pull him away from the boy in front of him. If they succeed, they pass to the third, and so on until they have drawn the entire batch. As sometimes an obstinate loaf sticks so tight to its companion, that it is not torn away without bringing with it a handful of jacket or other part of the clothing, the game ought not to be played by any but little boys.

I SPY.

This is a capital game for the summer months. The players divide themselves into two parties, one party remaining at a spot called “Bounds,” and concealing their faces, while the other party goes out and hides. After waiting for a few minutes, the home party shouts, “Coming, coming, coming.” After a short pause they repeat the cry, and after another short interval they again shout, “Coming.” If any out-player is not concealed, he may cry, “No,” and a few minutes more are allowed. At the last shout, the home players, leaving one to guard bounds, sally forth in search of their hidden companions. Directly one of the seekers sees one of the hiders, he shouts, “I Spy,” and runs home as fast as he can, pursued by the one he has found, who tries to touch him before he can reach bounds. If he succeeds, the one so touched is considered taken, and stands aside. If the hiding party can touch three, or more, if especially agreed upon, they get their hide over again. The object of the hiders is to intercept the seekers, and prevent them from reaching bounds without being touched. The worst player is left at the bounds, in order to warn his companions, which he does by the word “Home,” as any hider may touch any seeker.

PITCH-STONE.

This game is played by two boys, each of whom takes a smooth round pebble. One player then throws his pebble about twenty feet before him, and the next tries to strike it with his stone, each time of striking counting as one. If the two pebbles are near enough for the player to place one upon the other with his hand, he is at perfect liberty to do so. It is easy enough to play at this game when the pebbles are at some distance apart; but when they lie near each other, it is very difficult to take a good aim, and yet send one’s own pebble beyond the reach of the adversary’s aim. Two four-pound cannon balls are the best objects to pitch, as they roll evenly, and do not split, as pebbles always do when they get a hard knock.

DUCK-STONE.

This game may be played by any number of players. A large stone is selected, and placed on a particular spot, and the players first “Pink for Duck,” that is, they each throw their stones up to the mark, and the one who is farthest from it becomes “Duck.” The Duck places his stone on the other, while the rest of the players return to the bounds, and in succession pitch their stones at his with the endeavour to knock it off. If this is accomplished, Duck must immediately replace it, and the throwers must pick up their stones and run to the bounds. As soon as Duck has replaced his stone, he runs after any of the other players, and if he can succeed in catching or merely touching any one of them, the player so touched becomes Duck.

PRISONER’S BASE, OR PRISON BARS.

This is a most delightful game, and is a very great favourite among boys of all classes. It is commenced by choosing Captains, which is either done by lot or by the “sweet voices” of the youths. If by lot, a number of straws of different lengths are put in a bunch, and those who draw from one end, the other being hidden, the two longest straws, are the two “Captains;” each of which has the privilege of choosing his men: the drawer of the longest of the two straws has the first choice. When this has been arranged each Captain selects, alternately, a boy till the whole are drawn out.

This method is, however, often attended with considerable inconvenience, as it is not impossible that the lots may fall on the two worst players. It is very much better to let the boys choose the two Captains, as the two best players will then assuredly be elected, and most of the success of the game depends on the Captains.

The leaders being thus chosen, the next point is to mark out the homes and prisons. First, two semicircles are drawn, large enough to hold the two parties, the distance between the semicircles being about twenty paces. These are the “homes,” or “bounds.” Twenty paces in front of these, two other semicircles, of a rather larger size, are marked out. These are the prisons; the prison of each party being in a line with the enemy’s home. These preliminaries being settled, the sides draw lots; the side drawing the longest straw having to commence the game. The Captain of side A orders out one of his own side, usually a poor player, who is bound to run at least beyond the prisons before he returns. Directly he has started, the Captain of side B sends out one of his men to pursue, and, if possible, to touch him before he can regain his own home. If this is accomplished, the successful runner is permitted to return home scathless, while the vanquished party must go to the prison belonging to his side; from which he cannot stir, until some one from his own side releases him, by touching him in spite of the enemy. This is not an easy task; as, in order to reach the prison, the player must cross the enemy’s home. It is allowable for the prisoner to stretch his hand as far towards his rescuer as possible, but he must keep some part of his body within the bounds; and if several prisoners are taken, it is sufficient for one to remain within the prison, while the rest, by joining hands, make a chain towards the boy who is trying to release them. When this is accomplished, both the prisoner and his rescuer return home, no one being able to touch them until they have reached their home and again started off. But the game is not only restricted to the two originally sent out. Directly Captain A sees his man pressed by his opponent, he sends out a third, who is in his turn pursued by another from side B; each being able to touch any who have preceded, but none who have left their home after him. The game soon becomes spirited; prisoners are made and released, the two Captains watching the game, and rarely exposing themselves, except in cases of emergency, but directing the whole proceedings. The game is considered won, when one party has succeeded in imprisoning the whole of the other side. Much depends upon the Captains, who sometimes, by a bold dash, rescue the most important of their prisoners, and thereby turn the fate of the battle; or, when the attention of the opposite side is occupied by some hardly-contested struggle, send some insignificant player to the rescue; who walks quietly up to the prison, and unsuspectedly lets out the prisoners one by one. No player is permitted to touch more than one person until he has returned to his home; when he can sally out again armed with fresh strength, like Antæus of old, who could not be conquered at wrestling, because whenever he touched the ground his strength was renewed by his mother Earth.

FOX.

This game was extensively played at the school where our boyhood was passed; but we never saw it elsewhere. It used to afford us such amusement in the long summer evenings, that it deserves a place in this collection of sports. One player is termed Fox, and is furnished with a den, where none of the players may molest him. The other players arm themselves with twisted or knotted handkerchiefs, (one end to be tied in knots of almost incredible hardness,) and range themselves round the den waiting for the appearance of the Fox. He being also armed with a knotted handkerchief, hops out of his den. When he is fairly out, the other players attack him with their handkerchiefs, while he endeavours to strike one of them without putting down his other foot. If he does so he has to run back as fast as he can, without the power of striking the other players, who baste him the whole way. If, however, he succeeds in striking one without losing his balance, the one so struck becomes Fox; and, as he has both feet down, is accordingly basted to his den. The den is useful as a resting-place for the Fox, who is often sorely wearied by futile attempts to catch his foes.

BASTE THE BEAR.

This is a funny game. The players generally draw lots for the first Bear, who selects his own Keeper. The Bear kneels on the ground, and his Keeper holds him with a rope about four feet long, within a circle of about five feet in diameter. The other players tie knots in their handkerchiefs, and begin to strike or baste the Bear, by running close to, or into the ring. Should the Keeper touch any of the boys while they are at this sport without dragging the Bear out of the ring, or should the Bear catch hold of any player’s leg, so as to hold him fast, the player so touched or caught becomes Bear. The second Bear may select his Keeper as before, and the play continues.

AN INSTRUMENT OF TORTURE.

LEAP-FROG.

This is an excellent game of agility, and very simple. It consists of any number of players; but from six to eight is the most convenient number. Having by agreement or lots determined who shall give the first “back,” one player so selected places himself in position, with his head inclined and his shoulders elevated, and his hands resting on his knees, at ten yards’ distance from the other players; one of whom immediately runs and leaps over him,—having made his leap, he sets a back at the same distance forward from the boy over whom he has just leaped. The third boy leaps over the first and second boy, and sets a “back” beyond the second; and the fourth boy leaps over the first, second, and third, and sets a “back” beyond the third, and so on till the players are out. The game may continue for any length of time, and generally lasts till the players are tired; but the proper rule should be, that all who do not go clean over should be out. Those who “make backs” should stand perfectly stiff and firm; and those who “make leaps” should not rest in their flight heavily upon the shoulders of their playmates, so as to throw them down, which is not fair play.

FLY THE GARTER.

Chalk or make a line, or, as it is usually termed, “a garter,” on the ground; on this line one of the players must place himself and bend down as in leap-frog, while the other players in rotation leap over him, the last one as he flies over calling out “Foot it.” If he should fail in giving this notice, he is out, and must take the other boy’s place at the garter. The boy, immediately the word is given, rises, and places his right heel close to the middle of the left foot; he next moves the left forwards and places that heel close up to the toes of his right foot, and bends down as before. This movement is called a “step,” and is repeated three times. The other players should fly from the garter each time a step is made, and the last player must invariably call out “Foot it” as he leaps over. After making the three “steps,” the player giving the back takes a short run, and, from the spot where he made his last step to, jumps as far forwards as he possibly can, and bends down again; the others jump from the garter and then fly over. Should any of the players be unable to jump easily over the one giving the back, but rather slide down upon, or ride on him, the player so failing must take the other’s place at the garter, and the game be begun again; if, also, through the impetus acquired in taking the jump from the garter, a player should happen to place his hands on the back of the player bending down, and then withdraw them in order to take the spring over, he is out, and must take his turn at the garter. It is usual, in some places, for the boy giving the back to take a hop, step, and a jump after he has footed it three times, the other players doing the same, and then flying over.

SPANISH FLY.

This game is capable of being varied to any extent by an ingenious boy, but it is generally played in the following way:—One boy, selected by chance, sets a back, as in “fly the garter,” and another is chosen leader. The game is commenced by the leader leaping over the one who gives the back, and the other players follow in succession; the leader then leaps back, and the others follow; then they all go over in a cross direction, and return, making, in all, four different ways. The leader then takes his cap in both hands, and leaves it on the boy’s back while he is “overing,” and his followers perform the same trick; in returning, the last man takes the lead, and removes his cap without disturbing the others, and each boy does the same: this trick is repeated in a cross direction. The next trick is throwing up the cap just before overing, and catching it before it falls; the next, reversing the cap on the head, and so balancing it while overing, without ever touching it with the hands; both tricks must be performed while leaping the four different ways. The leader, with his cap still balanced, now overs, and allows his cap to drop on the opposite side; the others do likewise, but they must be careful not to let their caps touch the others, nor to let their feet touch any of the caps in alighting; the leader now stoops down, picks up his cap with his teeth, and throws it over his head and the boy’s back; he then leaps after his cap, but avoids touching it with his feet. The other players follow him as before. The next trick is “knuckling,”—that is to say, overing with the hands clenched; the next, “slapping,” which is performed by placing one hand on the boy’s back, and hitting him with the other, while overing; the last, “spurring,” or touching him up with the heel. All these tricks must be performed in the four different directions, and any boy failing to do them properly goes down, and the game begins afresh.

TOUCH.

This is a brisk game, and may be played by any number of boys. One of the players being chosen as Touch, it is his business to run about in all directions after the other players, till he can touch one, who immediately becomes Touch in his turn. Sometimes when the game is played it is held as a law that Touch shall have no power over those boys who can touch iron and wood. The players then, when out of breath, rush to the nearest iron or wood they can find, to render themselves secure. Cross-touch is sometimes played, in which, whenever another player runs between Touch and the pursued, Touch must immediately leave the one he is after to follow him. But this rather confuses, and spoils the game.

TOUCH-WOOD AND TOUCH-IRON.

These games are founded on the above. When the boys pursued by Touch can touch either wood or iron they are safe, the rule being that he must touch them as they run from one piece of wood or iron to another.

BUCK, BUCK, HOW MANY HORNS DO I HOLD UP?

This is a very good game for three boys. The first is called the Buck, the second the Frog, and the third the Umpire. The boy who plays the Buck gives a back with his head down, and rests his hands on some wall or paling in front of him. The Frog now leaps on his back, and the Umpire stands by his side: the Frog now holds up one, two, three, five, or any number of fingers, and cries, “Buck! Buck! how many horns do I hold up?” The Buck then endeavours to guess the right number; if he succeeds, the Frog then becomes Buck, and in turn jumps on his back. The Umpire determines whether Buck has guessed the numbers rightly or not. In some places it is the custom to blindfold the Buck, in order to prevent him seeing. This plan, however, is scarcely necessary.

WARNING.

This is an excellent game for cold weather. It may be played by any number of boys. In playing it “loose bounds” are made near a wall or fence, about four feet wide and twelve long. One of the boys is selected, who is called the Cock, who takes his place within the bounds; the other players are called the Chickens, who distribute themselves in various parts of the playground. The Cock now clasps his hands together, and cries, “Warning once, warning twice, a bushel of wheat, and a bushel of rye, when the Cock crows out jump I.” He then, keeping his hands still clasped before him, runs after the other players; when he touches one, he and the player so touched immediately make for the bounds; the other players immediately try to capture them before they get there; if they succeed, they are privileged to get upon their backs and ride them home. The Cock and his Chick now come out of the bounds hand-in-hand, and try to touch some other of the players; the moment they do this they break hands, and they and the player now touched run to the bounds as before, while the other players try to overtake them, so as to secure the ride. The three now come from the bounds in the same manner, capture or touch a boy, and return. If, while trying to touch the other boys, the players when sallying from the grounds break hands before they touch any one, they may immediately be ridden, if they can be caught before they reach the bounds. Sometimes when three players have been touched the Cock is allowed to join the out party, but this is of no advantage in playing the game.

FOLLOW MY LEADER.

This may be played by any number of boys: one being selected as the Leader, and the others are the Followers. The Followers arrange themselves in a line behind the Leader, who immediately begins to progress, and the others are bound to follow him. The fun of this sport is in the Leader carrying his Followers into “uncouth places,” over various “obstacles,” such as hedges, stiles, gate-posts, &c., through “extraordinary difficulties,” as ditches and quagmires,—every player being expected to perform his feats of agility; and those who fail are obliged to go last, and bear the emphatic name of the “Ass.” The game lasts till the Leader gives up, or the boys are all tired out.

THE FUGLEMAN.

This is a game something like the above. It consists of the Fugleman and his Squad. The Fugleman places himself in a central spot, and arranges his Squad before him in a line. He then commences with various odd gestures, which all the Squad are bound to imitate. He moves his head, arms, legs, hands, feet, in various directions, sometimes sneezes, coughs, weeps, laughs, and bellows, all of which the Squad are to imitate. Sometimes this is a most amusing scene, and provokes great laughter. Those who are observed to laugh, however, are immediately ordered to stand out of the line, and when half the number of players are so put out, the others are allowed to ride them three times round the playground, while the Fugleman with a knotted handkerchief accelerates their motions.

HARE AND HOUNDS.

This is perhaps the very best game that can be introduced into a school. The principle of it is very simple, that one boy represents the Hare and runs away, while the others represent the Hounds and pursue him. The proper management of the game, however, requires some skill. When we were at school in the north, this game was extensively played; and in more recent times, when we ourselves were masters instead of scholars, we reduced the game to a complete system. The first thing to be done is to choose a Hare, or if the chase is to be a long one, two Hares are required. The Hare should not be the best runner, but should be daring, and at the same time prudent, or he may trespass into forbidden lands, and thereby cause great mischief. A Huntsman and Whipper-in are then chosen. The Huntsman should be the best player, and the Whipper-in second best. Things having advanced so far, the whole party sally forth. The Hare is furnished with a large bag of white paper torn into small squares, which he scatters on the ground as he goes. An arrangement is made that the Hare shall not cross his path, nor return home until a certain time; in either of which cases he is considered caught. The Hounds also are bound to follow the track or “scent” implicitly, and not to make short cuts if they see the Hare. The Hare then starts, and has about seven minutes’ grace, at the expiration of which time the Huntsman blows a horn with which he is furnished, and sets off, the Hounds keeping nearly in Indian file, the Whipper-in bringing up the rear. The Huntsman is also furnished with a white flag, the Whipper-in with a red one, the staves being pointed and shod with metal. Off they go merrily enough, until at last the Huntsman loses the scent. He immediately shouts “Lost!” on which the Whipper-in sticks his flag in the ground where the scent was last seen, and the entire line walks or runs round it in a circle, within which they are tolerably sure to find the track. The Huntsman in the meanwhile has stuck his flag in the ground, and examines the country to see in what direction the Hare is likely to have gone. When the track is found, the player who discovers it shouts Tally ho! the Huntsman takes up his flag, and ascertains whether it is really the track or not. If so, he blows his horn again, the Hounds form in line between the two flags, and off they go again. It is incredible how useful the two flags are. Many a Hare has been lost because the Hounds forgot where the last track was seen, and wasted time in searching for it again. Moreover, they seem to encourage the players wonderfully. We used often to make our chases fourteen or fifteen miles in length; but before such an undertaking is commenced, it is necessary to prepare by a series of shorter chases, which should however be given in an opposite direction to the course fixed upon for the grand chase, as otherwise the tracks are apt to get mixed, and the Hounds are thrown out. The Hare should always carefully survey his intended course a day or two previously, and then he will avoid getting himself into quagmires, or imprisoned in the bend of a river. A pocket compass is a most useful auxiliary, and prevents all chance of losing the way, a misfortune which is not at all unlikely to happen upon the Wiltshire downs or among the Derbyshire hills.

STEEPLE CHASE.

This is a trial of speed and agility, and may be played by any number of boys. It consists in the boys agreeing upon some distant object for a mark, such as a conspicuous tree, or house, or steeple. The players then start off in whatever direction they please, each one being at liberty to choose his own course. In a long run of a mile or so it very often happens that hedges, ditches, and other obstructions, have to be got over, which adds great interest to the play, and the best climbers and jumpers are the most likely to come in victors. He who comes in first to the appointed object is called the King, the second the Duke, the third the Marquis, the fourth the Viscount, the fifth the Earl, the sixth the Knight. The last receives the dignified appellation of the Snail, and the last but one the Tortoise.

At Oxford there were in our undergraduate days two clubs for the purpose of Steeple-chasing, one named the Kangaroo Club, and the other the Charitable Grinders, whose performances over hedges and ditches were really astonishing. There was also a club which kept a set of beagles, and used to hunt a red herring with intense perseverance.

DUCK AND DRAKE.

This is a very simple sport, but necessarily restricted to those spots where there is a river, or a pond of some magnitude. It consists in throwing oyster-shells, flat stones, or broken tiles along the water, so as to make them hop as often as possible. One hop is called Dick, the second Duck, and the third Drake. The sea-shore is a capital place for this sport, as, if the player can only succeed in making the stone touch the top of a wave, it is tolerably certain to make a succession of hops from wave to wave. If a rifle-bullet is shot along the water, it will go a great distance, making very long hops, and splashing up the water at every bound. In war, this method of firing at an enemy that lies low is extensively made use of, and is called “ricochet practice.” It is also much used in naval warfare.

SIMON SAYS.

This, if well managed, is a very comical game. The players are arranged as in Fugleman, the player who enacts Simon standing in front. He and all the other players clench their fists, keeping the thumb pointed upwards. No player is to obey his commands unless prefaced with the words, “Simon says.” Simon is himself subjected to the same rules. The game commences by Simon commanding,—“Simon says, turn down:” on which he turns his thumbs downwards, followed by the other players. He then says, “Simon says, turn up,” and brings his hands back again. When he has done so several times, and thinks that the players are off their guard, he merely gives the word, “Turn up,” or “Turn down,” without moving his hands. Some one, if not all, is sure to obey the command, and is subject to a forfeit. Simon is also subject to a forfeit, if he tells his companions to turn down while the thumbs are already down, or vice versâ. With a sharp player enacting Simon, the game is very spirited.

KING OF THE CASTLE.

This is a very good game, and to play it properly there must be in the centre of the playground a small hill or hillock. One player, selected by choice or lot, ascends this hill, and is called the King; and the object of the other players is to pull or push him from his elevation, while he uses his endeavours to keep his “pride of place.” Fair pulls and fair pushes are only allowed at this game; the players must not take hold of any part of the clothes of the King, and must confine their grasps to the hand, the leg, or the arm. If a player violates these rules, he is to sit down upon the ground, and is called “Dummy.” The player who succeeds in dethroning the King, takes his place, and is subjected to the like attacks.

BATTLE FOR THE BANNER.

This game is to be played from a mound, the same as the above, and it may consist of any number of players. Each party selects a Captain, and having done this, divide themselves into Attackers and Defenders. The defending party provide themselves with a small flag, which is fixed on a staff on the top of the mound, and then arrange themselves on its side and at its base, so as to defend it from the attacks of their opponents, who advance towards the hillock, and endeavour to throw down those that oppose them. Those that are so thrown on either side, are called “dead men,” and must lie quiet till the game is finished, which is concluded either when all the attacking party are dead, or the banner is carried off by one of them. The player who carries off the banner is called the Knight, and is chosen Captain for the next game.

SNOW-BALLS.

Every boy has played at snow-balls, from the time that his little fingers were first able to grasp and mould a handful of snow. Elderly gentlemen know to their cost how apt the youthful friend is to hurl very hard snow-balls, which appear to pick out the tenderest parts of his person, generally contriving to lodge just at the juncture of the chin and the comforter, or coming with a deafening squash in the very centre of his ear. Even the dread policeman does not always escape; and when he turns round, indignant at the temporary loss of his shiny hat, he cannot recognise his assailant in the boy who is calmly whistling the last new nigger-song, as he saunters along, with both his hands in his pockets. The prudent schoolmaster will also not venture too near the playground, unless he has provided himself with an umbrella. It is rather a remarkable fact, that whenever a Grammar-school and a National-school are within a reasonable distance of each other, they are always at deadly feud. So it was at the school where our youthful days were passed. One winter’s morning, just after school had opened, the door was flung violently open, and a party of National-school boys hurled a volley of snow-balls at the head-master. He, after the door had been secured, remarked in a particularly mild voice,—“Now, boys, if I had been at school, and my schoolmaster had been assaulted by National-school boys, I should have gone out and given them a thrashing. Remember, I do not at all advise you to do so, but merely mention the course that I should have adopted under such circumstances. We will resume lessons at three.” So saying, he took off his gown, put on his hat and gloves, and walked out to see the fun. Now, the prospect of a morning’s holiday would have made us attack a force of twenty times our number, but as they only out-numbered us threefold, we commenced a pursuit without hesitation. After a sharp engagement, we drove them back to their own schoolroom. The cause of their yielding was, that they threw at random among us, whereas each of our balls was aimed at the face of an opponent, and we very seldom missed. When they had reached their school, they closed and barred their door; at which we made such a battering, that their master, a large negro, rushed out upon us, vowing vengeance, and flourishing a great cane. He was allowed to proceed a few yards from the door, when one snow-ball took off his hat, and two more lodged in his face. He immediately went to the right-about, and made for the school, which he reached under an avalanche of snow. We pursued, but he had succeeded in fastening the door, and we could not open it for some time. When we did, the school was deserted; not a boy was to be seen. There was no back entrance to account for their disappearance, and we were completely puzzled. At last, when we had quieted down a little, a murmuring was heard apparently below our feet, and on examination we found that the entire school had taken shelter in the coal-cellar. We made a dash at the door (a trap-door), and in spite of the showers of coal that came from below, fastened and padlocked the door, carefully throwing the key among a clump of fir-trees, where it was not likely to be found. Having achieved this victory, we had a snow-ball match among ourselves, and then returned to school. About five o’clock, in rushed the black schoolmaster, who had only just been liberated by the blacksmith, and who came to complain of our conduct. So far, however, from obtaining any satisfaction, he was forced to apologise for the conduct of his boys.

SNOW CASTLE.

The object of this game is, that a castle of snow is built, which is attacked by one party and defended by the other. The method of building the castle is as follows:—A square place is cleared in the snow, the size of the projected castle. As many boys as possible then go to some distance from the cleared square, and commence making snow-balls, rolling them towards the castle. By the time that they have reached it, each ball is large enough to form a foundation-stone. By continuing this plan, the walls are built about five feet six inches high, a raised step running round the interior, on which, the defenders stand while hurling the balls against their opponents. In the centre are deposited innumerable snow-balls, ready made; and a small boy is usually pressed into the service, to make snow-balls as fast as they are wanted. If the weather is very cold, some water splashed over the castle hardens and strengthens it considerably. The architect of the castle must not forget to leave space for a door.

SNOW GIANT.

This is made in the same way as the snow castle, that is, by rolling large snow-balls to the place where the giant is to be erected, and then piled up and carved into form. He is not considered completed until two coals are inserted for eyes, and until he is further decorated with a pipe and an old hat. When he is quite finished, the juvenile sculptors retire to a distance, and with snow-balls endeavour to knock down their giant, with as much zest as they exhibited in building him. If a snow giant is well made, he will last until the leaves are out, the sun having but little power on so large a mass of hard snow. There is a legend extant respecting the preservation of snow through the warmer parts of the year. A certain Scotch laird had for a tenant a certain farmer. The laird had been requested by influential personages to transfer the farm to another man directly the lease was run out. The farmer’s wife, hearing of this from some gossip of hers, went to her landlord, and besought him to grant a renewal of the lease. When she called, he was at dinner with a numerous party of friends, and replied in a mocking tone, that the lease should be renewed when she brought him a snow-ball in July. She immediately called upon the guests to bear witness to the offer, and went home. In due time the winter came, and with it the snow. One day, her husband, an excellent labourer, but not over bright, asked her why she was wasting so much meal. At that time, she had taken a large vessel of meal to a valley, and was pouring it into the space between two great stones. Upon the meal she placed a large quantity of snow, which she stamped down until it was hard. Upon this she poured more meal, and placed upon the meal a layer of straw. The whole affair was then thickly covered over with straw and reeds. To her husband, who thought she had fairly lost her senses, she deigned no reply, except that the meal would repay itself. So affairs went on until July, when the good dame, hearing that her landlord had invited a large party to dine with him, many of whom had been at the party when the promise was made, proceeded to the store of snow, which she found about half diminished. The remainder she kneaded hard, and put it in a wheelbarrow, well covered with straw, which she rolled up to the laird’s own house. When once there, she took out her snow-ball, and presenting it to her landlord, before all his guests, demanded the renewal of her lease. It may be satisfactory to know, that the laird, struck with her ingenuity and perseverance, at once granted her request.

JACK! JACK! SHOW A LIGHT!

This game can only be played in the dusk of evening, when all the surrounding objects are lost in the deepening gloom. The players divide into two parties, and toss up for innings, which being gained, the winners start off to hide themselves, or get so far away that the others cannot see them; the losers remaining at the home. One of the hiding party is provided with a flint and steel, which, as soon as they are all ready, he strikes together; the sparks emitted guide the seekers as to what direction they must proceed in, and they must endeavour to capture the others ere they reach home; if they cannot touch more than two of the boys, the hiders resume their innings, and the game continues as before. It is most usual, however, for the boys at the home to call out, “Jack, Jack! show a light!” before the possessor of the flint and steel does so. When one party is captured, the flint and steel must be given up to the captors, that they may carry on the game as before.

JINGLING.

The jingling match is a common diversion at country wakes and fairs, and is often played by schoolboys. The match should be played on a soft grass-plot within a large circle, enclosed with ropes. The players rarely exceed nine or ten. All of these, except one of the most active, who is the “jingler,” have their eyes blindfolded with handkerchiefs. The jingler holds a small bell in his hand, which he is obliged to keep ringing incessantly so long as the play continues, which is commonly about twenty minutes. The business of the jingler is to elude the pursuit of his blindfolded companions, who follow him by the sound of the bell in all directions, and sometimes oblige him to exert his utmost abilities to effect his escape, which must be done within the boundaries of the rope, for the laws of the sport forbid him to pass beyond it. If he be caught in the time allotted for the continuance of the game, the person who caught him wins the match; if, on the contrary, they are not able to take him, he is proclaimed the winner.

JUMP LITTLE NAG-TAIL!

In this game, six or eight players on each side is the best number. The two leaders should toss up for choice of partners, and after selecting them, toss again for innings. The loser must then place himself quite upright, with his face to a wall, against which he rests his hands; and one of his partners should next stoop down, and put his head against his leader’s skirts, as shown in the annexed [illustration]; another partner also bends, and places his head against the skirts of the second player, and the rest of the partners must take their places in the same manner, one behind the other: when thus arranged, they are called “nags.” One of the winning party next takes a run, and placing his hands on the back of the last player or “nag,” endeavours to spring on to the back of the first, or at least to clear as many “nags” as he possibly can, in order to allow room for those following him to leap on the backs of the other “nags,” which they should do in succession, until they are all fairly astride. If any of the “nags” sink under the weight, or in trying to support themselves touch the ground either with their hands or knees, or if the riders can keep their seats without touching the ground, whilst their leader counts twenty, or repeats the words, “Jump little nag-tail one, two, three!” three times, concluding with “off, off, off!” the riders resume their innings, and begin again; on the contrary, should there not be sufficient space for all to leap on, or they are unable to keep their seats on the backs of the “nags,” they lose their innings, and become “nags” in their turn. The “nags” must, while in the line, hold either by the trousers of the player before them, or else lean their hands on their knees, or cross their arms on their breasts. Each rider must call out “Warning” before he leaps on the back of one of the “nags.”

JUMPING ROPE.

Two players swing round a long rope, and when the revolutions become tolerably regular, one, two, or even more boys step forwards, and allowing it to swing over their heads, jump up as it descends, so as to let it pass under their feet as in the case of the common skipping-rope. The leapers must step forwards the moment the rope is at its highest, in order to be ready to skip over as it swings close to the ground; and they should be careful to keep the same time with the motions of the boys holding the rope, so as not to be struck by it in its circuit. Another game may be played with a long skipping-rope, by the player at one end holding the rope in his outside hand, making a step or two towards the other player, and with his help swinging it round, and then skipping over it.

MY GRANDMOTHER’S CLOCK.

In this amusing sport the players join hands, and extend their arms to their full extent. One of the outside players remains stationary, and the others run round him as fast as they can, which proceeding is called “winding the clock.” In this manner the straight line becomes a confused spiral, and all the players get huddled together in a most laughable manner. The winding of the clock usually leads to such disorder that it is next to impossible to unwind it without breaking the line of boys.

RUSHING BASES.

Two bases having been made, one at each end of the playground, all the players take up their position in one of them, except one, who is generally elected by counting out; this player, who is called “the King,” stations himself midway between the bases, and endeavours to catch the others as they rush through his territory from base to base. Should the king succeed in catching one of the trespassers, he raps him on the head, saying, “I crown thee king!” and the one so crowned joins the first king between the bases, and helps to catch the other players. When the out-players considerably outnumber those remaining in the bases, they may enter the bases, and, if they are strong enough, pull the others out and crown them. In this lively game the rule is, that a player must run to the opposite base if he puts both feet outside his own. In some parts of England this game is known by the name of “King Cæsar.”

SEE-SAW.

For this amusement a stout plank should be laid across a felled tree or a low wall; it must be very nicely balanced if the players are of the same weight; but if one is heavier than the other, the end on which he intends to sit should be the shortest. Two players then take their seats on the plank, one at each end, whilst a third stations himself on the middle of it, as represented in the [illustration]; the name of this player is in some places Jack o’ both Sides, and in others Pudding. As the players by turns make slight springs from their toes, they are each alternately elevated and depressed, and it is the duty of Pudding to assist these movements by bearing all his weight on the foot, on the highest end of the plank, beyond the centre of the tree or wall on which it rests. This will be best understood by referring to the illustration: thus, A is the trunk of a tree; across it a plank is laid, on which two players, B, C, take their seats; D is “Pudding;” it will be seen that his left foot is beyond the centre of the trunk A, on the highest end of the board, and consequently his weight being added to that of B will depress that end of the plank, and the end on which C sits must, of course, rise; Pudding then bears on his right foot, and C in turn descends; and thus the game continues during pleasure, Pudding bearing alternately on each side.

THREAD THE NEEDLE.

This game can be played by any number of boys, who must all join hands; the game is begun by the outside players at each end of the line holding the following dialogue: “How many miles to Babylon?” “Threescore and ten.” “Can I get there by candle-light?” “Yes, and back again.” “Then open the gates without more ado, and let the king and his men pass through.” The player and the one next to him at the end of the line opposite the last speaker then elevate their joined hands as high as they can, to allow the speaker to run under, and the whole line follows him, still holding hands. This should be done, if possible, without breaking the line by letting the hands go, and is styled “threading the needle.” When all the boys have passed through, the same conversation begins again, excepting that the respondent in his turn becomes the inquirer, and runs between the opposite players, the others following as before.

TOM TIDDLER’S GROUND.

This is a very favourite game with little boys, and may be considered as a modification of [rushing bases]. A large base is formed by drawing a line across the playground, and one boy, called “Tom Tiddler,” takes his station within it, while the others run in crying out, “Here am I on Tom Tiddler’s ground, picking up gold and silver.” If Tom Tiddler can touch any boy while he is on his ground, the boy so touched takes his place as the guardian of the imaginary gold and silver.

TWO TO ONE.

Two to one is a very capital exercise with a common skipping-rope. It is done by skipping in the usual way for a short time, and then increasing the rapidity of your movements, and leaping tolerably high, endeavouring to swing the rope round so quickly that you can pass it twice under your feet while you are taking the leap; practise this till you are quite proficient, and then try to pass the rope three times under your foot instead of twice.

WALK, MOON, WALK!

This may be played by any number of boys, who all tie large knots in one corner of their pocket-handkerchiefs, and then toss up to see who shall be “Moon;” the loser is the one to whom the part falls, and he must be blindfolded. “Moon” now stands with his legs stretched apart, while his playmates go behind him in succession, and jerk their handkerchiefs between his legs, as far as they can and in whatsoever direction they please. When all the boys have done this, one of them cries “Walk, Moon, walk!” which is a signal for the blindfolded player to walk forwards until he treads upon one of the handkerchiefs, when in an instant the other players pick up their knotted handkerchiefs, with which they belabour the unlucky owner of the one trodden upon by Moon, as he runs to a distant base and back; after which he becomes Moon, and the game continues as before.

WANT A DAY’S WORK?

This is a capital game when well played, and the antics and grimaces of boys who are mimics cause great merriment. It also gives a boy a good notion of how mechanical labour is done, as no boy will ask for work unless he understands something of the nature of the business he solicits to be employed upon. The game begins thus, and it matters not how many boys are engaged in it:—A line is drawn; within that line is the shop, and when a bad workman is discharged he is pushed across the line. The employer, or master, should be a very sharp lad. A boy comes up, and the master asks him if he wants a day’s work; the boy says he does. He is then asked what trade he is; if he says a tailor, a coat is supposed to be given to him to make; if a shoemaker, a pair of shoes; if a tinker, a saucepan to bottom; if a stonemason, a stone to cut or saw, and every boy must imitate the actions of the tailor, shoemaker, &c., while at work, whatever the trades may be. Then the master looks over the work, finds fault, gets in a rage, discharges the workman, and, if he can, turns him out of the shop. But if in the struggle the boy turns the employer out, he then becomes master, and the other is set to work. So that, after a few good-natured trials of strength, each boy in turn generally becomes master.

WILL YOU LIST?

This is a very old game, and in some places is called “playing at soldiers;” the whole ceremony of enlisting is gone through, taking the shilling and swearing to serve the Queen, &c. But there ought to be two parties of boys, of not less than a dozen, with a commanding officer on each side. After learning their exercise, such as shouldering arms and marching, war breaks out; then one party is English and the other the enemy. Their weapons ought to be bulrushes, or stout reeds, such as are used in building, or something that will not do any injury when the charge commences. The side that breaks or takes away the most weapons is the conqueror, and much skill may be displayed in capturing the arms of others, and retaining your own. If boys can get some old soldier to drill them a few times, this may be made as good a game as they can play at. We have too few military amusements in our English games.

WHOOP!

One player takes his station at a spot called the “home,” while the others go to seek out various hiding-places in which to ensconce themselves; when all are ready, one of them calls out “Whoop!” on which the player at the “home” instantly goes in search of the hiders, and endeavours to touch one of them as they run back to “home;” if he can do so, the one caught takes his place at the “home,” while he joins the out players.

HIGH BARBAREE!

In this game sides are chosen, and one party remains “at home,” while the other hides. When the hiders are all ready, one of them calls out “High Barbaree!” upon which the seekers sally forth to look for them, as in “[Whoop!]” If the seekers can succeed in touching a certain number of the hiders before they can get to “home,” they take their turn at hiding. The number to be caught must be agreed upon beforehand, and of course depends upon the number of players. It is usual to mention this number in the cry—thus, “High barbaree! three caught he!”—“four caught he!” and so forth. As a general rule, the number to be caught should exceed half the number of the hiders.

BULL IN THE RING.

This active, merry, noisy game can be played by any number of boys, and commences by their joining hands and forming a ring, having enclosed some boy in the middle, who is the Bull. It is the Bull’s part to make a rush, break through the ring, and escape, and the part of the boys who form the ring to hold their hands so fast together that he cannot break their hold. Before making a rush the Bull must cry “boo” to give warning, so that the boys may grasp their hands more tightly. The whole ring generally replies to the Bull’s challenge by crying “boo” all together, and a pretty noise they make. When the Bull breaks through the ring he is pursued until captured, and the boy who seizes him first is “Bull” when they return. A good “Bull” will lead them a pretty dance, clearing hedges and ditches; and if he gets back and touches some mark agreed upon, near to where he broke through the ring, he is “Bull” again.

COCK FIGHT.

This humorous sport must not be confounded with the cruel battles between game-cocks once so popular in England. Two boys represent the feathered combatants; each hops upon one leg, with his arms folded, and bumps against the other, endeavouring to compel him to put both feet to the ground. The boy who keeps up longest wins the game.

DROPPING THE HANDKERCHIEF.

A tolerably large ring should be formed by several boys standing in a circle and joining hands; another boy, who stands out, when all are ready walks round outside the ring, drops a handkerchief behind one of the players, and immediately runs off; he is instantly followed by the one behind whom he dropped the handkerchief, and who must track him in all his windings in and out under the arms of the boys in the ring, who elevate them for the purpose, and indeed wherever he runs to; should the pursuer be able to touch the pursued, the former takes the handkerchief in his turn, and the latter joins hands in the circle. If the boy who dropped the handkerchief is enabled to elude his follower by passing through and about the ring, he walks again round and drops the handkerchief behind some other player.

EASY GAMES WITHOUT TOYS

INDOOR.

BLIND MAN’S BUFF

“SEEING’S BELIEVING.”

Consists in one person having a handkerchief bound over his eyes, so as to completely blind him, and thus blindfolded trying to chase the other players, either by the sound of their footsteps, or their subdued merriment, as they scramble away in all directions, endeavouring to avoid being caught by him; when he can manage to catch one, the player caught must in turn be blinded, and the game be begun again. In some places it is customary for one of the players to inquire of Buff (before the game begins), “How many horses has your father got?” to which inquiry he responds, “Three.” “What colours are they?” “Black, white, and grey.” The questioner then desires Buff to “turn round three times, and catch whom you may,” which request he complies with, and then tries to capture one of the players. It is often played by merely turning the blindfold hero round and round without questioning him, and then beginning. The handkerchief must be tied on fairly, so as to allow no little holes for Buffy to see through. Blind Man’s Buff is a very ancient pastime, having been known to the Grecian youths. In England it formerly went By the name of Hoodman Blind, because it was customary to blind Buff with his hood.

BOB-CHERRY.

Attach a cherry to a piece of string, and then fasten it to a door, sufficiently high to compel the player to jump a little in order to catch the cherry in his mouth. The cherry is then set swinging; and the players, ranging themselves in line, jump at the cherry, one after the other. This game is productive of much amusement, and may be kept up for a long time.

BUFF.

In this game one of the players enters the room, armed with a poker, with which he taps on the floor. “Where do you come from?” inquires one of the company. “Alas! from poor Buff, who is full of grief.” “And what did he say to you?” “He spoke thus,” is the reply—

“Buff said ‘Baff,’
And gave me this staff,
And bade me not laugh
Till I came to his house again.”

Having thus spoken, the messenger leaves the room. While he has been delivering his speech, the company, however, endeavour to make him laugh, by asking him any absurd questions that may present themselves to their imagination. If they do not succeed in this, the emissary of the great Buff delivers himself of a more lengthy address:—

“Buff says ‘Baff’ to all his men,
And I say ‘Baff’ to you again;
But he neither laughs nor smiles
In spite of all your cunning wiles,
But keeps his face with a very good grace,
And carries his staff to the very next place.”

CONCERT.

A noisier game than this could scarcely be desired by the most boisterous of our young friends. The players having selected a “conductor,” seat themselves round him in a circle. The conductor now assigns to each a musical instrument, and shows how it is to be played. When all are provided with their imaginary instruments, the conductor orders them to tune, and by so doing, he gives each musician a capital opportunity for making all sorts of discordant noises. When the different instruments have been tuned, the conductor waves an unseen bâton, and commences humming a lively air, in which he is accompanied by the whole of his band, each player endeavouring to imitate with his hands the different movements made in performing on a real instrument. Every now and then the conductor pretends to play on a certain instrument, and the player to whom it belongs must instantly alter his movements for those of the conductor, and continue to wield the bâton until the chief player abandons his instrument. Should a player omit to take the conductor’s office at the proper time, he must pay a forfeit. The fun of this game greatly depends upon the humour of the conductor, and the adroitness with which he relinquishes his bâton and takes up the instruments of the other players.

CONSEQUENCES.

The first player writes an adjective on the upper part of a slip of paper, and then folds the slip so that the written word cannot be seen by the next player, who writes the name of a gentleman, real or imaginary, on the paper, which he passes to another after having folded it over again. The third player writes an adjective; the fourth, a lady’s name; the fifth, the name of a place; the sixth, what the gentleman said to the lady; the seventh, the lady’s reply; the eighth, the consequences; and the ninth, what the world said about the whole affair. One of the players now unfolds the slip and reads what has been written by the different persons engaged in the game, adding a few words to unite the disjointed members of the little narrative. As a specimen of the ludicrous result which arises from each player’s ignorance of what has been written by his companions, we give the following pathetic tale, in which the words and phrases printed in italics represent those written on the slip of paper:—“The ill-favoured Peter Wilkins met the adorable Jenny Jones in the silver mine of Potosi. He said to her, ‘Will you love me then as now?’ and she replied, ‘When did I refuse you anything?’ The consequences were, he drowned himself in the water-butt and she married the baker, and the world said, ‘Served them right!’” When there are only three or four players, the slip of paper is to be passed round from one to another until it is filled up. When the players are numerous, three or four slips may be commenced simultaneously by different persons.

CROSS QUESTIONS AND CROOKED ANSWERS.

This game will be best described by a short dialogue.

Harry.—I am going to put a question in a whisper to Tom, who is seated on my right hand, to which he will reply in the same tone. He will then put a question to his next neighbour, and receive his answer. When the tour of the circle is made, I shall commence by stating aloud the question put to me by my left-hand neighbour, answering it by the reply received in answer to my own from Tom. He will then do the same, giving my question and his next neighbour’s reply.—(Whispers to Tom.) Of what use are the bellows?

Tom.—To blow up the fire.—(To Charles) Of what use is a fire-engine?

Charles.—To put out a fire.—(To John) Of what use is a plough?

John.—To plough up the ground.—(To James) Of what use is a cap?

James.—To cover the head.—(To Edward) Of what use is a shoe?

Edward.—To protect your foot.—(To William) Of what use is a black pin?

William.—To fasten your collar with.—(To Harry) Of what use is a barometer?

Harry.—To tell the weather.—(Aloud) William has just asked me the use of a barometer? Tom replies, “To blow up the fire!”

Tom.—Harry has asked me the use of the bellows; and Charles replies, “To put out the fire!”

Charles.—Tom wishes to know the use of the fire-engine, and John tells him, “To plough up the ground,” &c.

Any mistake is punished by a forfeit.

DUMB MOTIONS.

The players form sides, and decide who shall be masters and who men. The principal aim of the men is to keep working as long as possible, and to prevent the masters taking their places. The men consult secretly among themselves, and decide upon some trade or profession, the practice of which may be certain movements of the arms, hands, or legs. They now range themselves opposite the masters, and the foreman tells them the first and last letters of the trade they are about to exercise; as for example, C—r for carpenter, D—t for druggist, B—h for blacksmith, and so on. The men now set to work and express in dumb motions the various labours belonging to the craft they have chosen. Let us suppose that they have selected the trade of blacksmith: one of the players will appear to be blowing the forge bellows, another will seem to be filing something in a vice, while others will be violently exerting themselves by wielding imaginary sledge-hammers round an unseen anvil. If any of the men speak at their work, or make use of inappropriate gestures, the whole side is out. The masters are allowed one guess each, and if none of them can hit upon the right trade, the men tell them their occupation, and then fix upon another. If the masters can guess the name of the trade, the men are out and become masters. The men need not continue their labours until all the masters have guessed, but may stop working, and demand their wages, after having plied their craft for a reasonable time. When the name of a trade consists of two words, the men must tell the first and last letter of each word, as C—h B—r, for coach builder.

FAMILY COACH.

The chief player in this amusing game must possess the faculty of inventing a long story, as well as a tolerably good memory. This player gives to each of the others the name of some person or thing to be mentioned in the story he is about to relate. For example, he may call one “the coachman,” another “the whip,” another “the inn,” another the “old gentleman,” another the “footman,” another “the luggage,” and so on, until he has named all the persons engaged in the game. The story-teller now takes his stand in the centre of the room, and commences his narrative; in the course of which he takes care to mention all the names given to the players. When the name of a player is mentioned, he must immediately rise from his seat, turn round, and sit down again, or else pay a forfeit for his inattention; and whenever “the family coach” is named, all the players must rise simultaneously. In the following example of a story, the names given to the different players are printed in italics: “An old gentleman, dreading an attack of the gout, resolved to pay a visit to the hot wells of Bath; he therefore summoned his coachman, and ordered him to prepare THE FAMILY COACH (all the players rise, turn round, and sit down again). The coachman, not liking the prospect of so long a journey, tried to persuade the old gentleman that THE FAMILY COACH was out of repair, that the leader was almost blind, and that he (the coachman) could not drive without a new whip. The old gentleman stormed and swore upon hearing these paltry excuses, and ordered the coachman out of the room, while the little dog sprang from under his master’s chair and flew at the calves of the offender, who was forced to make a precipitate exit. Early the next morning, THE FAMILY COACH belonging to the old gentleman stopped at an inn on the Bath road, much to the surprise of the landlord, who had never seen such a lumbering conveyance before. The family coach contained the old gentleman, the old lady (his wife), and the little dog that had made such a furious attack on the poor coachman’s legs. The landlord called the landlady, who came bustling out of the inn to welcome the old gentleman and old lady. The footman jumped down from behind THE FAMILY COACH, and helped the old gentleman and the old lady to alight, while the boots and chambermaid belonging to the inn busied themselves with the luggage. The little dog trotted after the old lady, but just as it was going into the inn, the coachman gave it a cut with his whip. The little dog howled, upon which the old gentleman turned round, and seeing the coachman with his whip raised, he seized him by the throat. The footman came to the assistance of his friend the coachman, and the ostler belonging to the inn took the side of the old gentleman. The landlord, landlady, chambermaid, boots, cook, stable-boy, barmaid, and all the other inmates of the inn, rushed into the road to see what was the matter, and their cries, joined to the yells of the little dog and the screams of the old lady, so frightened the leader, the white horse, and the brown mare, that they ran away with THE FAMILY COACH.” Of course this tale might have been continued to any length, but the specimen we have given will be sufficient to give the story-teller some idea of what is expected from him to keep up the fun of the game.

FROG IN THE MIDDLE.

This is a highly amusing, though very simple game. One player seated on the ground is surrounded by his comrades, who pull and buffet him till he can catch one of them, when the person so caught takes his place, and is buffeted in like manner. As the players sport round the Frog, they usually cry, “Frog in the middle—can’t catch me!” but they frequently find that this is vain boasting, as Froggy does catch them now and then.

THE FOUR ELEMENTS.

The party being seated in a circle, the player who has been chosen to commence the game takes a knotted handkerchief, and throws it suddenly into another’s lap, calling out at the same time either “Earth!” “Water!” “Air!” or “Fire!” If “Earth” be called out, the player into whose lap the handkerchief has fallen must name some quadruped before the other can count ten; if “Water!” he must name a fish; if “Air!” a bird; and if “Fire!” he must remain silent. Should the player name a wrong animal, or speak when he ought to be silent, he must pay a forfeit and take a turn at throwing the handkerchief; but should he perform his task properly, he must throw the handkerchief back to the first player. Those who have never joined in this simple game can have no idea of the absurd errors into which the different players fall when summoned unawares to name a particular kind of animal.

HAND.

The game of Hand is of great antiquity, and is common to almost every nation, whether savage or civilized. In many of the rural districts of England this universal pastime is known by the name of “Coddem.” To play at Hand, sides must be formed, and the players of each side must seat themselves at a table opposite their antagonists. Chance decides which of the sides shall first hide the piece; which may be any small object that can be easily held in the closed hand of one of the players. One of the fortunate players now exhibits the piece to his opponents; having done which, he cries out, “Hands down!” at which signal he and his comrades put their hands out of sight, and in the language of the game, commence “working the piece,” which operation is performed by shifting the piece from hand to hand, so as to deceive the opposite players as to its whereabouts. When the piece has been properly worked, the chief player calls out, “Hands up,” and he and all his comrades simultaneously place their closed fists on the table. The top player on the opposite side has now to fix upon the hand in which the piece is concealed. There are two ways of guessing, either of which he may adopt; the first is to point at once to the hand supposed to contain the piece, and cry out, “Hand!” The second mode of guessing is to point to those hands which appear to be empty, saying with each guess, “Take that hand away!” and when most of the hands have been removed from the table, to fix upon the most likely-looking one among those that remain. If the guesser can find the piece without making a mistake, he claims it for his party, and is entitled to guess again when the opposite side regains it; but if he makes a mistake, either by ordering the hand that holds the piece to be removed, or by “handing” an empty fist, his antagonists retain the piece, and having concealed it, the second player attempts to discover its whereabouts. From our description, the reader will probably regard Hand as a mere frivolous game of chance; but we can assure him that chance has little to do with the discovery of the piece. A good Hand player watches the faces of his opponents while their hands are engaged in working the piece under the table; he scrutinises the different hands, and does not allow himself to be misled by any of the cunning devices which the hiders employ to throw him off the right scent; again, when he has the piece in his possession, he takes care not to let a tightly-clenched fist, a guilty smile, or an anxious expression, betray the fact to his wary antagonist.

HOT BOILED BEANS.

In this game, one of the players is sent out of the room, while the others hide a handkerchief or any small article that can be easily secreted. When the article has been concealed, the door is opened, and the seeker is invited to enter in these words: “Hot boiled beans and butter; walk in and find your supper.” The seeker now sets to work to look for the hidden article. When he approaches the place of concealment, his playmates must give him notice of it, by telling him that he is “rather warm,” “very hot,” or, if he gets very near it, that he “burns.” When he wanders away from the object of his search, he is told that he is “cold;” and if he persists in his mistaken course, he is informed that he “freezes.” Should the seeker succeed in finding the hidden article, another player goes out of the room in his stead.

HOT COCKLES.

One player with his eyes bandaged lays his head on a chair, or in another player’s lap, while the others strike him on his back with their open hands. In this unenviable position he remains until he can guess who strikes him, when the striker takes his place. The poet Gay describes this pastime in the following lines:—

“As at Hot Cockles once I laid me down,
And felt the weighty hand of many a clown,
Buxoma gave a gentle tap, and I
Quick rose, and read soft mischief in her eye.”

HOW? WHERE? AND WHEN?

One of the players is sent out of the room, while the others fix upon a subject, which may be anything to which the three questions, “How do you like it?” “Where do you like it?” and “When do you like it?” will apply. When the subject has been decided upon, the out-player is summoned. He now puts the first question to the nearest player, who returns him a puzzling answer; he then passes to the next, and repeats the same question; then to the next, and so on, until he has made the round of the room. If none of the answers enable him to guess the subject, he tries each player with the second question, and if the answers to this leave him still in the dark, he solicits a reply from each to the third and last question. Should the player fail to guess the subject after asking the three questions, he pays a forfeit and takes another turn outside; but should he succeed in guessing it during his rounds, the player last questioned must pay a forfeit, and go out of the room in his place. The in-players should always endeavour to hit upon some word that has two or three meanings for a subject, as such a word renders the answers extremely confusing. For instance, if Jack be the subject decided on, one of the players may say, in answer to the first query, that he likes it “fried,” referring to fish called the Jack; in answer to the second, that he likes it “before the kitchen fire,” referring now to a roasting-jack; and in answer to the third, that he likes it when he is “dressing,” now regarding the subject as a boot-jack.

HUNT THE SLIPPER.

This old-fashioned pastime is so generally known that it is scarcely necessary to describe it; however, as it forms one of the merriest indoor sports for the long winter evenings, it would be absurd to omit it in this work. Several boys seat themselves in a circle on the ground, and another, taking his place inside the ring, gives a slipper to one of them, by whom it is immediately and secretly handed to one of his neighbours; it is now passed round from one sitter to another, with as much dexterity as possible, so as to completely perplex the “hunter” (or player standing in the middle) in his endeavours to “chase the slipper by its sound,” and who must continue his search until successful. The player in whose possession it is found must in his turn “hunt the slipper,” whilst the former hunter joins the sitters.

HUNT THE RING.

A game almost similar to the former. A piece of tape, on which a ring is fastened, is held by the players as they stand in a circle, with one in the middle. The ring is passed from hand to hand, and the hunter’s business is to find out in whose hand the ring is.

HUNT THE WHISTLE.

A boy who has never seen the game played is elected hunter; the others seat themselves on the ground, as in Hunt the Slipper. The hunter, having been shown the whistle, kneels in the centre of the circle, and lays his head in the lap of one of the players until the whistle is concealed. While he is in this posture, the whistle is to be secretly attached to the back part of his jacket or coat, by means of a piece of string and a bent pin. One of the players now blows the whistle and drops it, and the hunter, being released, is told to find it; but this is no easy task, as he carries the object of his search about his own person. As the hunter kneels in the centre of the group, the different players blow through the whistle and drop it, as the opportunities occur. The puzzled hunter is sometimes fairly tired out before he discovers the trick that is played upon him. We need scarcely say that the whistle should be very small and light.

MAGIC MUSIC.

This is a very similar game to [Hot Boiled Beans]. One player having been sent out of the room, the others arrange some simple task for him to perform on his return. When this has been done, he is summoned by the magic music, which is played by one of his comrades, either by tapping a tea-tray with a key, or by rattling the poker and tongs together. The boy who has been sent out of the room must perform his appointed task under the guidance of the musician, who so regulates his performance on the rude instruments that the music gets loud and noisy when the puzzled player does what he ought not to do, and grows soft and quiet when he does anything towards the performance of his task. To render this game more intelligible, we will suppose the task to be the removal of a certain chair from one room to another. The player having entered the room is saluted by the magic music, the unmeaning clatter of which only confuses him at first. He walks towards the side of the room where the chair is stationed, and as he approaches it the clatter grows fainter; this informs him that he is in the right path. He touches the table, but removes his hand at the sound of the music, which suddenly gets terribly noisy. He touches the chair; the music ceases. He now knows that he is expected to do something with this particular chair, so he very naturally sits down upon it; but he jumps up directly he hears the “clatter, clatter, clatter” of the music. He lifts the chair, and as he does so the music grows soft again. He now turns the chair upside down; carries it into the middle of the room; places it on the sofa; but all to no purpose, as he cannot stop the continual clatter of the magic music. At last he carries the chair into the adjoining room; the music ceases, and his troublesome task is accomplished. In this noisy but amusing game the players go out of the room, and have tasks set them in turns. The musician generally retains his office throughout the game.

POST.

This exciting game may be played by an unlimited number, and is particularly adapted for a large party. One of the players, called “the postman,” has his eyes bandaged as in [Blind Man’s Buff]; another volunteers to fill the office of “postmaster-general,” and all the rest seat themselves round the room. At the commencement of the game the postmaster assigns to each player the name of a town, and, if the players are numerous, he writes the names given to them on a slip of paper, in case his memory should fail him. These preliminaries having been arranged, the blind postman is placed in the centre of the room, and the postmaster-general retires to some snug corner, whence he can overlook the other players. When this important functionary calls out the names of two towns,—thus, “London to Halifax,”—the players who bear these names must immediately change seats, and as they run from one side of the room to another, the postman tries to capture them. If the postman can succeed in catching one of the players, or if he can manage to sit down on an empty chair, the player that is caught, or excluded from his place, becomes postman. The postmaster-general is not changed throughout the game unless he gets tired of his office. When a player remains seated after his name has been called he must pay a forfeit, or if the game is played without forfeits he must go to the bottom of the class, which is represented by a particular chair, and to make room for him all the players who were formerly below him shift their places.

PROVERBS.

One player leaves the room, and while he is absent the rest fix upon some proverb. The words are then distributed among them, and each player, in reply to a question asked by the guesser, has to introduce his particular word. When all the words have been introduced, the guesser has to guess the name of the proverb, and another player takes his place. If, however, he cannot make it out, he has to leave the room again.

LIST OF PROVERBS.

• A false friend is worse than a bitter enemy.
• A penny saved is a penny gained.
• A man is known by the company he keeps.
• A bad workman quarrels with his tools.
• All is not gold that glitters.
• A friend in need is a friend indeed.
• A good name is better than wealth.
• A good word costs nothing.
• A little rain lays much dust.
• A little spark makes a great flame.
• A bird in hand is worth two in a bush.
• Better late than never.
• Barking dogs seldom bite.
• Cut your coat according to your cloth.
• Empty vessels make the most sound.
• Example is better than precept.
• Evil beginnings have bad endings.
• Friends are plenty when the purse is full.
• Good ware makes quick markets.
• Great cry and little wool.
• Gather thistles, expect prickles.
• Half a loaf is better than no bread.
• Hear twice before you speak once.
• In a calm sea every man is a pilot.
• Idle folks have the least leisure.
• It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good.
• If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing well.
• It’s a sad heart that never rejoices
• Least said is soonest mended.
• Let them laugh that win.
• Look before you leap.
• Long looked for comes at last.
• Make hay while the sun shines.
• Many a slip between the cup and the lip.
• Make the best of a bad bargain.
• Marry in haste, repent at leisure.
• Of two evils choose the least.
• One good turn deserves another.
• Opportunity makes the thief.
• Out of sight out of mind.
• Penny wise and pound foolish.
• Prevention is better than cure.
• Pride will have a fall.
• Short reckonings make long friends.
• Strike while the iron’s hot.
• Still waters run deep.
• Safe bind, safe find.
• The best part of valour is discretion.
• Waste not, want not.
• Where there’s a will there’s always a way.
• Wilful waste makes woful want.

PUSS IN THE CORNER.

Four players take their stations in the four corners of a room, and a fifth, called “Puss,” places himself in the middle of it; the players in the corners then change places by running to the opposite ends, and Puss must endeavour to get into one of the vacant places before the opposite player is able to reach it; if he can do so, the player left out becomes Puss.

RED-CAP AND BLACK-CAP.

The players sit round in a circle, each taking a colour. Thus one is red-cap, another black-cap, and so on. One of them, who takes the place of master, and has no colour, taking up a cap says: “Hullo, here’s a false stitch. Who made it, blue-cap?” Blue-cap then answers, “Who, sir? I, sir?” “Yes, you, sir!” “Not I, sir.” “Who then, sir?” “Yellow-cap, sir.” Yellow-cap then starts up and says, “Who, sir? I, sir?” and goes through the dialogues, giving another colour. The player who neglects to start up when his colour is mentioned, or who does not repeat the question correctly, pays a forfeit.

SHADOW BUFF.

Shadow Buff differs very materially from [Blind Man’s Buff], but it is equally amusing. A large piece of white linen should be fastened neatly up at one end of room, so that it hangs quite smooth; Buff (not blinded) seats himself on a low stool with his face to the linen, and a table, on which is a lighted candle, should be placed about four or five feet behind him, and the rest of the lights in the room extinguished. Buffy’s playfellows next pass in succession, between the candle and him, distorting their features in as grotesque a manner as possible—hopping, limping, and performing various odd antics, so as to make their shadows very unlike their usual looks. Buffy must then try to guess to whom the shadows belong, and if he guesses correctly, the player whose shadow he recognises takes his place. Buff is allowed only one guess for each person, and must not turn his head either to the right or left to see who passes.

SLATE GAMES.

Birds, Beasts, and Fishes.—“Now, Tom,” said Harry, “get your slate and pencil, and I’ll show you such a jolly game. Well now, look here, I have put down h × × × a. Now that stands for a beast’s name, the first and last letters of which are h and a, with three letters between, represented by the crosses.”

“Let’s see,” replied Tom, scratching his head, “I know—Hare.”

“You muff! There are only four letters in ‘hare,’ and five in my word. Try again—mind you have only three guesses; so look out.”

Tom wondered again for a minute, and then suddenly blurted out, “I know—Horse.”

“Wrong again,” replied Harry; “the last letter of Horse is e and not a. Now be careful, Tom, for this is your last turn.”

Again Tom scratched his head, bit his fingers, and after meditating for at least two minutes and a half, shouted out in a moment of inspiration—“Hyena!”

As he was right, it now became his turn to put down a name. So he wrote on the slate s × × × × × w, at the same time telling Harry it was a bird; for according to the rules of this game you must say whether this name represents a beast, a fish, a bird, an insect, or a reptile.

Harry in a minute shouted “Sparrow!” and so the game went on; and such a capital game did Tom and Harry have, that they sent this account of it to us in the hope that we would make it known to the world in “Every Boy’s Book.”

French and English.—On the slate should be drawn a plan somewhat like the [following]. The dots represent soldiers, one side being termed French and the other English. Each player is provided with a sharply pointed pencil, and the game is played as follows:—English, keeping the point of his pencil on a spot denoted by a cannon, draws it quickly across the slate in the direction of the other army. The pencil naturally leaves a line to mark his track, and if this mark passes through any of the men belonging to the other side, they are considered dead. The game is over as soon as all the men on one side are dead. Each player has a certain space on the slate allotted to him, and he may dispose his men in whatever part of it he pleases. The track of the pencil must be straight or curved; any shot in which there is an angle does not count. In p. 38 we give a [battle-field] where the strife is ended. In this the English side has killed all the opposite side in eight shots, while the French in eight have only been able to kill nine men.

Noughts and Crosses.—This is a capital game, and one which every school-boy truly enjoys. A [figure] is drawn as follows, and the object of the one player is to draw three crosses in a line before the other can draw three noughts. Thus A begins by drawing a + in the centre division; B follows with a nought in the top right-hand corner. A then draws a + in the bottom right-hand corner, because by this means he gets two crosses in a line, and spoils one of B’s chances. B in a hurry instantly places a 0 in the top left-hand corner, and A follows by placing his + between the two 0’s. B then, seeing that in the centre line A already has two crosses, places a 0 in the third vacant space of the line; while A, as a last resource, plants his + in the second space of the left-hand line. Then when B puts a 0 in the centre space at the left-hand, A places a + in the bottom left-hand corner, and the game is drawn, the [plan] standing as above.

TRADES.

Every player, except one who holds the office of reader, selects a trade or profession, which he must retain throughout the game. When all have chosen their trades, the reader opens a book at random, and reads a passage from it aloud; but when he comes to any common noun, he looks at one of the tradesmen, who must instantly name some article that he is supposed to have for sale, or some implement connected with the exercise of his craft. By this substitution of one noun for another, the most pathetic passage is converted into an indescribable jumble of absurdities. In the following burlesqued extract from an Eastern tale, the words in italics are supposed to be supplied by the different tradesmen, in place of the nouns omitted by the reader:—

“One offered the prince a bucket of the most precious mutton chops of Golconda; another a curious piece of a Wellington boot, made by a European artist; another a piece of the richest plum-pudding from the looms of China; another a gridiron, said to be a sovereign remedy against all poisons and infectious diseases; another a choice piece of the most fragrant Turkey rhubarb, in a warming-pan, inlaid with acid drops; another a coffin full of genuine treacle; another a rocking-horse of the purest breed of Arabia; and another a Flanders brick of exquisite beauty. The whole court of the palace was overspread with gingerbread-nuts; and long rows of slaves were continually passing loaded with corn-plasters, tenpenny-nails, bees’-wax, and other articles of high price.”

TRUSSED FOWLS.

Two boys having seated themselves on the floor, are trussed by their playmates; that is to say, each boy has his wrists tied together with a handkerchief, and his legs secured just above the ancles with another; his arms are then passed over his knees, and a broomstick is pushed over one arm, under both knees, and out again over the other arm. The “trussed fowls” are now carried into the centre of room and placed opposite each other, with their toes just touching. The fun now begins; as each fowl endeavours, with the aid of his toes, to turn his antagonist over on his back or side, and the one who can succeed in doing this wins the game. It frequently happens that both players turn over together, to the great amusement of the spectators. On board ship these comical encounters frequently take place between the boys, who are trussed by their elder shipmates.

THE TWO HATS.

This game, although only two persons are engaged in it at a time, furnishes much amusement, from the contradictory nature of its words and actions. The rules relative to it are as follow:—If three mistakes are made by the person who responds to the inquiries of the player who brings the hats round, and whom for distinction’s sake we will call the questioner, he must pay three forfeits, and is out of the game; when the questioner desires the respondent to be seated, the latter must stand up; when he begs him to put his hat on, he must take it off; when he requests him to stand, he must sit; and in every point, the respondent must take special care to do always the very reverse of what the questioner wishes him. The questioner may sit down, stand up, put his hat on, or take it off, without desiring the respondent to do so, or giving him the least intimation of his intention; the latter must, therefore, be always on his guard, so as to act in a contrary way in an instant, else he incurs a forfeit. These rules being settled, the game is simply this: one player places a hat on his head, takes another in his hand, and gives it to one of the company; he then begins conversing with him, endeavouring both by words and actions to puzzle him as much as he can, so as to cause him to pay a forfeit. We will give a slight specimen of a dialogue, describing the accompanying movements of the hats, in which A is the questioner, B the respondent:

A. (taking his hat off.) A very beautiful evening, sir.

B. (putting his hat on.) Yes, indeed, a most lovely one.

A. (putting his hat on, and sitting down, B. instantly taking his off and getting up.) Pray be seated, sir; I really cannot think of sitting while you stand (gets up, and B. sits down). Have you been out of town this year? (takes off his hat.)

B. (putting his on.) I have not yet, but I think I shall, before (A. sits down, B. gets up) the beauty of the season has entirely passed away, venture a few miles out of town.

A. (putting his hat on.) I beg ten thousand pardons, you are standing while I am sitting; pardon me, your hat is on—you must pay a forfeit.

It generally happens, that before the dialogue has been carried thus far the respondent has incurred three forfeits, and is, of course, out; the questioner then goes in succession to the others, and the same scene is repeated by each: the conversation, it is almost needless to add, should be varied as much as possible, and the more nonsensical it is the better.

WHAT IS MY THOUGHT LIKE?

The leader of the game commences it by asking each of his companions in turn, “What is my thought like?” to which they reply at hazard, by mentioning anything that first comes into their thoughts, of course avoiding naming the same thing twice over, as that incurs the penalty of a forfeit. The leader carefully notes down all the answers he receives, and then revealing his thought, desires to know what the thing thought of resembles in what it has been compared to.

John.—Charles, what is my thought like?

Charles.—A young girl.

John.—James?

James.—A queen.

John.—Now, Harry?

Harry.—A lion.

John.—Tom?

Tom.—Beauty.

John.—You, William?

William.—An oak-tree.

John.—Alfred, it is your turn.

Alfred.—A beautiful woman.

John.—Andrew?

Andrew.—Hope.

John.—Arthur?

Arthur.—A hedgehog.

John.—Ben?

Ben.—A rose.

John.—And you, Cecil?

Cecil.—A vine.

John.—My thought was a rose; so now, Charles, tell me why a rose is like a young girl.

Charles.—Because it is loveliest when only half-blown.

John.—And why a queen?

James.—Because the rose is the queen of all flowers.

John.—Harry, why is a rose like a lion?

Harry.—Because it is one of the emblems of England.

John.—And why, Tom, is it like beauty?

Tom.—Because it soon fades.

John.—William, why is it like an oak?

William.—Because both spring from the earth.

John.—And you, Alfred; why is a rose like a beautiful woman?

Alfred.—Because its fragrance often remains after the charms are faded.

John.—Andrew, why is a rose like hope?

Andrew.—Because in returning sunshine it forgets the past storm.

John.—Arthur, why is a rose like a hedgehog?

Arthur.—Because its thorns defend it from a rough grasp.

John.—You, Ben, having fixed upon the same thing as myself, must pay a forfeit. Cecil, why is a rose like a vine?

Cecil.—Because in old times they were both considered essential to a banquet. I can think of nothing better.

EASY GAMES WITH TOYS, OUTDOOR.

EASY GAMES WITH TOYS.