Title: Fun for the Household - A Book of Games
Author: Gray, Emma J.
Language: English
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Fun for the Household.

A BOOK OF GAMES.


[Illustration]

    BY

    EMMA J. GRAY.


    PUBLISHED BY
    THE CHRISTIAN HERALD.
    LOUIS KLOPSCH, Proprietor,
    BIBLE HOUSE, NEW YORK.



    Copyright 1897
    BY LOUIS KLOPSCH.

[Illustration: PRESS·OF·J·J·LITTLE·&·CO

ASTOR PLACE·NEW·YORK]



CONTENTS.


                                         PAGE
    Introductory                            7
    Little Folks                            9
    Boys and Girls                         29
    Grown-Ups                             102
    Special Fêtes                         128
    Methods of Choosing Partners          184
    Tangles and Forfeits                  187
    In the Adirondacks                    204
    The Flower Test                       220
    Hours with the Poets                  235
    “Thank You!”                          239
    A Story within a Story                244
    Orrin the Bootblack                   258
    Breakfast Table Decorations           270
    How they Planted the Nasturtiums      273
    A Garden Party                        276
    The King’s Children                   281
    For the Boys                          287
    I wish I were a General               293
    A Hebrew Christian                    298
    The Baby’s Lesson                     305
    Parlor Fortune Telling                308
    Church Courtesy                       314
    A Brave Boy                           317



INTRODUCTORY.


When children have passed beyond the rattle age, they reach out their
hands for baa-lambs, woolly sheep, cows with bells, cats that meaw, and
dogs that say bow-wow.

The next advance in amusement is to play with a toy that goes on
wheels, and therefore for a half hour at a time, little folk will be
content by drawing around the nursery such toys as trains of cars,
horses with long tails, express wagons, etc., etc.; and then follows
the period when pretty lady dolls must go out to drive in a pretty
carriage accompanied by mistress baby, whose chubby hands push the
doll’s carriage ahead, and nurse’s ever vigilant eyes keep watch, so
that neither baby nor the baby’s doll, like the historic Jack and Jill,
fall down and break their crown. And mechanical dollies are also in
demand,—lady dolls that lift their veils, smile and bow; gentlemen
dolls that are orchestrian leaders; boy dolls that can turn somersaults
and effect other athletic feats. And about this time if nurse is
careful to keep sharp eyes on the scissors, colored pictures may be
cut out and pasted in scrapbooks, or paper dolls may be arrayed as
their youthful mothers desire. Or bright pieces of silk may be sewed
together, provided the thread is tied into the needle’s eye, so that
it cannot be pulled out. Or wonderful castles may be built with packs
of cards, or towers and steeples with building blocks. Noah’s ark will
do great service, as will also tops that spin, and hoops that may be
rolled or twirled, and drums that may be beat, and whistles and horns
that may be blown.

But, notwithstanding all the toys and amusement therefrom, there will
be heard the oftentimes plaintive wail, “Play with me, please play
with me.” And then it is that the wise mother or nurse will introduce
a simple game. Perhaps Puss in the Corner, or Blind Man’s Buff, or
perhaps hide behind a large chair or screen and call aloud, “Where am
I?” and such a mischievous laugh will follow when the toddling child
finds the one who has thus hidden!

From this period game follows game, just as naturally as year follows
year, and even when the little tot has grown to womanhood or manhood,
the cry is still heard, “Play with me, please play with me,” thus
illustrating the trite words, men and women are only children grown up.

Therefore the variety of games within this book: Games suitable for
all ages, for all temperaments; games for the house, and games for the
field; games for the girls, and, games for the boys; games for the
young, and games for the old; games for St. Valentine’s Day, games for
Christmas Day,—games for all seasons, games for all climes. Thus may
the year be filled with jollity.

Several games in this volume were originally published in the
periodicals of Messrs. Harper & Brothers, and are reprinted by their
kind permission.

                                                EMMA J. GRAY.



FUN FOR THE HOUSEHOLD.



LITTLE FOLKS.

A LITTLE CHILD’S PARTY.


Invite both boys and girls for a short frolic. Between three and five
o’clock in the afternoon would be excellent hours.

Provide for their entertainment, flowers, birds, worsted and rubber
balls, dolls, tea-services, horses, whips, and music. If you have a
music-box it will prove very serviceable. The children will be much
interested; some of the shorter ones will stand on tiptoe, the better
to discover the way the wheels go around.

Two or more grown people should be present; those who understand little
children, and have a knack in amusing them.

The toys will greatly aid in getting the children acquainted. Play
ball with the boys, throwing it lightly back and forth. Set out the
tea-services. Show off the dollies. Put a small boy on a hobby horse,
and start the horse on a trot, and after he has his ride, give another
boy his turn. After a while play polkas and waltzes, and then

    What a merry rout,
    See the wee ones dance about!

Change the amusement. Show them flowers, canary birds, butterflies,
anything you may have to attract, always remembering the toys and going
back to them again and again.

Low chairs and hassocks will make it easier for the little people than
to have to climb into the great chairs and sofas used by older folks.

Refreshments should be exceedingly simple, and a souvenir, such as a
cornucopia or handful of motto-papers, gayly tinted and full of candy,
will be much appreciated.


THE FARMER’S SONG.

_A Motion Game._

    As over the field the farmer goes,
    And grain by grain he sows in the rows,
    He sings and shouts, Oh, you crows, you crows,
    Keep away from my rows, away from my rows.

    This is the way the glad farmer reaps
    His wheat, and when it is bunched he keeps
    An eye on all his workers around,
    And laughs at their faces, merry and round.

    This is the way the glad farmer binds
    All the ripe sheaves he’s able to find,
    And when no more wheat is on the ground,
    He laughs ha, ha, ha, and turns all around.

    Hurrah, hurrah for the farmer bold
    He laughs and is merry e’en when ’tis cold,
    He shouts ha, ha, on an August day,
    And gathers his wheat as if ’twas his play.

    Oh, who would not be a farmer lad,
    And clap one’s hands hard and never be sad,
    And sing, while working all the day long,
    I’m jolly and happy and brave and strong?

Let all the players form a ring, with a boy in the centre for farmer.
After the song is sung through, the farmer must choose two players to
clasp their hands and raise them, thus forming an arch. The ring having
broken, now forms a long line, and one by one each individual passes
under the arch, singing as they go,

    Oh, who would not be a farmer lad,

and with the last word of the verse the arch falls, and thus some one
is caught, and he or she is now farmer. A ring is then again formed,
and the game proceeds as before.

This being a motion game, the words of the song must be acted. Every
child has seen farmers sow, reap and bind, and while singing those
words they must copy the farmer (the boy in the ring) as nearly as
possible, also remember to clap the hands, turn around, etc., at the
proper time, indeed lose no opportunity to act the words as well as to
sing them. Tune, “Oats, peas, beans, and barley grows.”


THE PIE-MAN’S SONG.

_A Motion Game._

    Solo.
      If a body meet a body, coming to my fire,
      If a body greet a body, why should I have ire?
      All the lassies and the laddies
      Come to me and buy
      Buns and bread and muffins sweet,
      And all my jelly pie.

    Chorus.
      This is the way the pie-man takes
      The roller to smooth the crust he makes;
      Then putting the crust in a bright tin pan.
      He fills it with quince and raspberry jam.

      This way the pie-man carries bread,
      Holding the board on top of his head;
      While to the oven he hurries along,
      All the time merrily singing his song.

    Solo.
      If a body meet a body, coming to my fire,
      If a body greet a body, why should I have ire? etc.

    Chorus.
      This is the way we eat the cakes,
      And pies and buns the pie-man makes,
      And when we are through we ask yet for more,
      While we dance on the baker’s clean wood floor.

      Then we run as fast as we can,
      And leave this jolly baker man,
      While to the oven he hurries along,
      All the time merrily singing his song.

    Solo.
      If a body meet a body, coming to my fire,
      If a body greet a body, why should I have ire? etc.

The verses may be sung to the tune, “Pop Goes the Weasel.” The solo is
sung by the baker, to the tune, “Coming Through the Rye.”

All the children should sing and imitate the pieman, who illustrates
each action that is mentioned.


FLY SOUTH.

Very small children would delight in playing Fly South.

All the players should sit around a table, and each having put their
right hand on it, the leader should exclaim, “Fly South, Sparrow.” The
second that this is said everybody must lift their hand, and then at
once put it down as before. Again the leader speaks, perhaps to say,
“Fly South, Pigeon,” and instantly the players must act as at the first
command.

But if on the contrary something is named that cannot fly, such as,
“Fly South, Bear,” or “Fly South, Cat,” the players must keep their
hands on the table. All removing them at the wrong time should pay a
forfeit.

The leader should speak rapidly, in order to catch all he can.


THREE BLIND MICE.

Ask three small boys to be blindfolded. When this is done, and they
each state that they cannot see, even the least little bit, a big
sister or mother should say, “You are three blind mice and I am the
farmer’s wife, and I am going to run, and as soon as I count three you
must run after me. Whoever catches me first shall have a big apple;
whoever catches me second shall have two big apples; and when I am
caught by the third I shall present that blind mouse with three big
apples.”

Having made the above explanation, the farmer’s wife deliberately
counts one, two, three, and on the instant three is spoken, the blind
mice run.

As soon as the running starts, all others sing,

    Three blind mice, see how they run,
    They all ran after the farmer’s wife.

This may be sung over and over until the blind mice succeed. Having run
a few moments, the farmer’s wife should allow herself to be caught, as
this game being particularly suited to little children, they would not
have the skill in catching known to older people.

If it is not convenient to give apples as reward, substitute something
else. Almost any trifling gift would do.

While running is in continuance, be careful the children do not trip.


THE HOLIDAY CALENDAR.

“I have a holiday calendar,” a little boy should say to a little girl.

“Where is it?”

“Here.” And directly he holds up his hand with fingers spread towards
her.

“See my five fingers. They stand for our five holidays.” Then touching
his thumb he should continue,

“This is for Mayday, so sweet,” and then touching the finger next,
“Jolly Fourth, with its noise,” afterwards indicating the middle
finger, “Thanksgiving and pumpkin pies,” and touching the next finger,
“Christmas, for girls and boys,” and holding up his little finger
concludes, “Happy New Year to all.”


THE SEA AND HER CHILDREN.

The players, with the exception of one sent from the room, must be
seated in a circle. The person having left will represent the Sea. All
others must now decide on an assumed name, which is also the name of
a fish; for example, trout, red snapper, pickerel. This done, the Sea
returns and walks slowly around the outside of the ring, calling her
children, one after another, by the different names they have selected,
until all have risen and followed her. Then the Sea must run with a
varied motion, sometimes rapid, sometimes slow, exclaiming, “The Sea
is troubled! the Sea is troubled!” Suddenly she seats herself, and her
example is followed by her children. The unfortunate individual who is
unable to secure a chair becomes the Sea, and the game is continued as
before.


CINDERELLA’S SLIPPER.

Every child has heard the pretty story of Cinderella and her glass
slipper. Now learn who will have bright enough eyes to find it.

The fairy godmother cannot really let you have Cinderella’s slipper,
but she allows any of the children to hunt for a slipper that is made
of fur, or trimmed with fur. This slipper should have Cinderella’s card
pinned to it, and whoever finds the slipper should be given the card as
a souvenir.

Cinderella’s slipper should be well hidden, but not where little people
could not reach. While the hunt is in progress, whoever has hidden the
slipper should call “Warm, Warmer, Cold, Colder,” as the children get
nearer or further away.


THE MAN IN THE MOON.

Have a circle two feet in diameter cut out of plain white paper. At
the time the game is to be played some one should pin this on the back
of the Lord of Misrule. He must then whistle and caper all about the
room, thus attracting attention, and seat himself at the piano, and
sing at the top of his lungs,

    Girls and boys, come out to play.

As soon as he sings the word _play_, every girl and boy rushes forward
and catching each other by the hand, they dance and skip about to the
tune played by the Lord of Misrule, while all sing,

    Girls and boys come out to play,
    The moon doth shine as bright as day,
    Leave your supper and leave your sleep,
    And meet your playfellows in the street,
    Come with a whoop and come with a call.

The second the words whoop and call are uttered the most
throat-splitting whoops and calls should be given; such as cat calls,
wild beast groans, crying, barking, bird notes, etc. The circle
disbands during the laughter and confusion, but the game may be played
over and over as long as the Man of the Moon shall will.


HOW MANY?

This is really a game of guess. Shake a small bag full of beans before
the children, and ask each to guess how many beans are inside.

It will be amusing to watch the eagerness which all will show, and how
far apart the guesses will be.

Whoever comes nearest to the correct number should be presented with
the bag of beans. And this gift will immediately afford healthful and
jolly entertainment, because the bean-bag should be tossed and caught
by one and another until the rosy-cheeked and out-of-breath children
call a halt.


ALPHABETICAL PLAY.

Cut out a square of cardboard, six inches wide by six inches long.
Put an eyelet in each of the two upper corners and run tape or ribbon
through. Cut it of sufficient length to go over a child’s head. The
children should wear the cardboard as if it was a breastplate.

You should have twenty-six children, and you will therefore require
twenty-six pieces of cardboard. In the centre of each piece, paint a
letter of the alphabet. Should you have fewer children, paint two or
more letters on each cardboard, for you must use the entire alphabet.

The children should first march up and down in alphabetical order,
keeping time to music. They may then join hands in couples and skip or
waltz or whatever pleasing movements may be suggested.

After these exercises call for words, being careful which words you
will require if you have doubled or trebled the letters. As each word
is called, the child wearing the first letter steps forward, then the
one wearing the second letter comes and stands by her side, and so on,
until the word is spelled.

Very short and simple words should be called if the children are not
sufficiently advanced to allow for longer or more difficult ones. Dog,
Cat, Bird, will furnish just as much amusement as Prodigy, Yclept, Bask.

Intersperse the word exercises with marches and other movements, such
as “Right-about-face,” to be done by a chord, or “wheel to the left,”
to be done by another. Form squares and circles. Join hands, thus
making a ring. Into this ring the letter A goes, the others skip around
her, until she makes a motion like something commencing with A; for
example, Apple, which she pretends to eat. One or more of the company
guesses what word she represents, and then B enters the ring, and so on
as long as the game amuses.


BLINDFOLDED PLATTER TWIRLING.

This game is similar to the old-time favorite.

All players should sit in a circle, and each number themselves in
rotation.

Two of the party should be blindfolded. They are then each given a
platter, and they enter the ring.

The others call, one, two, three. As soon as three is called, those
inside the ring twirl the platters, and at the same moment they each
shout a number which corresponds to two of the players in the circle.
Should either of the bearers of the numbers catch his platter before it
falls, the original twirler must try over again and continue to twirl
and call until the platter is not caught.

But should the platter have fallen before the child bearing the number
called has caught it, he must not only change places with the one who
has twirled the platter, but also pay a forfeit.

Much amusement is derived, not only from catching the platter, but in
watching the ridiculous movements of those who are blindfolded.


THE WILD BEAST EXHIBIT.

By the side of a pier-glass stand a lamp, and before both put a screen.

The one in charge stands in front, and having stated that he is ready
to exhibit his wild beasts to any one present who will not tell what he
has seen, asks who would like to come to the exhibition, all desiring
to, please rise. He then takes them in turn, always exacting the
promise of secrecy, and asks the name of the animal each would like to
see.

On learning the name, the showman describes the animal as funnily
as possible, making all manner of sport, and engaging every one’s
attention to the individual who is to go to the show. As for example,
if the person be a boy, and says he would like to see a lion, when the
boy laughs, the showman will say, “And the lion roars _just like you_.”
After this he is admitted, and sees himself in the looking-glass.


NEW TAG.

The tallest player should begin the game.

This person turning to the first right hand player should say “Yes”; to
the second, “No”; and so on all around, saying yes or no, as the case
may be, to yourself last. Whoever is the last person to whom “No” is
said, however, is out of the game, and the one who commenced the game,
again goes around the ring. If she has said “Yes” to herself last,
then the one to her right hand is now told “No,” and thus “Yes,” “No,”
is said all around again and again and so on, until there are but two
players. Whichever one is Yes, must then be “It.”

All the players now stand at a given distance from “It,” and a tree or
object being selected as a place of safety, they are ready to begin.

“It” calls to the others, “One foot off,” then each player raises one
of their feet. “Two feet on,” at which order everybody’s feet are
immediately upon the sidewalk. “Two feet off,” may then be called, at
which order all rush at their utmost speed, and “It” after them. Should
anybody be caught before reaching the tree of safety, that person must
change places with “It,” and the game continues as before.

The orders, “One foot off,” “Two feet on,” etc., should be called very
rapidly, so that everybody is mixed up and will not suspect when two
feet off will be called. Sometimes the orders are repeated over and
over, and again, “Two feet off” may be said the first time.


THE GREENGROCER.

Any boy may start the game, by saying, “I am a greengrocer and I sell
O.” All of the children must now guess what the grocer would have for
sale that would commence with the letter O.

He means he has onions for sale. Whoever is the first to guess, whether
it is a girl or a boy, now becomes the greengrocer and uses the
same words as before, only substituting another letter. Perhaps the
greengrocer has cucumbers or carrots for sale; in that case he would
sell C.

This game is capable of a variety of changes, for example, “I am a
milliner, and I am going to put F on your hat.” All the girls must now
guess what a milliner could put on a hat that would commence with F,
and some one is not long in deciding that the milliner means “Flowers.”

The next milliner may say, “I am a milliner and I am going to put D
flowers on your hat.”

And all must think what varieties of flowers commence with the letter
D, and in a second some one calls out, “Daisies.”


This being correct, the one who has guessed becomes milliner.

In like manner a boy may say, “I am a New York jeweler, and I sell G,”
and all the players must think what a jeweler could offer for sale that
would commence with the letter G.

Soon a voice asks, “Is it Gold?” But that is not correct, this jeweler
is selling Garnets.

Or the game may be confined to a country. Example: “I am a Japanese
merchant and I sell S.”

The players must think what the merchant has for sale that comes from
Japan, and that commences with the letter S.

Thus with care this game may be played by a small child with as much
success as by an adult.


RUBIES AND EMERALDS.

Two players decide as to which one will represent rubies and which
emeralds, without telling the others.

They then join hands to form an arch. All the rest take hold of each
other’s jackets or frocks, and while going through the arch they sing,

    All of a row,
    Bend the bow,
    Shot at a pigeon
    And killed a crow.
    The cock doth crow
    To let you know,
    If you be well.

The second that the last word is sung, those who have formed the arch
drop their arms around the neck of the child just passing under.
Then they inquire in a whisper which he would rather have, Rubies or
Emeralds. When he decides, he must whisper the answer, and he will then
be told to go back of the player that represents that stone.

When all have been caught, those back of the stone that has had the
most admirers now hide, while the others seek for them. Should the
rubies have precedence, the emeralds are the ones to hunt, or if the
emeralds, the rubies are the ones to hunt. Whichever stone is in the
minority must seek for the others. Whoever finds the most rubies or
emeralds, as the case may be, is counted the richest, as this player
possesses the most treasure.

The players who have formed the arch keep watch that all is done fairly.


WHAT THE DANDELIONS SAID

Is the old game familiar to all from babyhood—that of blowing the soft
down of the ripened dandelion to learn, “How old am I?” Blow once, one
year old; blow twice, two years, and so on, until all the downy stuff
has gone. The number of times the blows have been given before the down
has altogether disappeared indicates the age.

Or, “What time is it?”

This is indicated in the same way. Blow once, and if all the down is
gone, it is one o’clock, twice, two o’clock, and so on.


DAISY CATCH.

All the boys and girls should stand in a group, with the exception
of one girl, and to her is given a bunch of daisies. She is known as
“Daisy Girl.” A tree is selected as a place of safety and the other
girls count ten, allowing ten seconds for the count. During the
counting, Daisy Girl runs wherever she pleases, but the moment ten is
spoken, the boys and girls may race after her. The idea is to tag her
while the flowers are in her hand. If she is tagged the girl must then
throw the daisies as if they were a ball to the boy or girl tagging
her. If they are caught the game proceeds as before, by reversing the
players, but if the flowers are not caught, Daisy Girl may try again.
She may also demand another chance, if, when fearing she would be
tagged, she throws the daisies away, and catches them again before any
of the other players. When the game is repeated it commences regularly
from the beginning, the players taking the same position as at the
start.


DIBBS.

This is the English name for Jack-Stones.

Where a number of children are playing together, test who can pick up
the greater number without dropping any, within ten minutes.

The oldest child should keep count, and also watch the time, in order
that no mistakes occur. The counter should have each of the players’
names written on a slate or piece of paper, with sufficient room for
his scores. When a Dibb or Jack-Stone has been dropped, this party must
commence afresh. He, however, may yet win; for his opponents may drop
many more Dibbs than he. The only score to count is after the last Dibb
has been dropped. A player might have reached a score of thirty or
more, but having failed to catch his Dibb, it drops and he must now
count one, two, and so on without regard to former count.

When the ten minutes have expired, the counter should call “Game,” and
the players must stop on the second.


TOUCH.

This game is for little children, though it may be played by children
of all ages. It is at its best as an out-of-door recreation.

Chalk off a part of a lawn or use a small grass plot. On this put a
number of paper-covered packages. Then blindfold one of the children,
and, in the sight of all the others, touch a package. When this is
done the blindfold may be removed, and the child told he may have all
the packages for his own, until he takes the one touched, then he must
stop. Sometimes the player is unfortunate enough to pick up the touched
package first, if so, he must surrender this also, unless the players
vote he may try again. No one may try more than twice.

On the contrary an occasional child may pick up every package before
the one touched, when that happens the touched package is also added as
a reward.

This game interests all, and when the touched package is picked up, the
children scream with laughter. The contents of the packages may be a
little candy, inexpensive toys, an apple, pear or other fruits, also
nuts. Each present is temptingly wrapped, and as this game is played
over and over no one gift should cost beyond a penny or two. It makes
great fun to undo the packages, and generous children always divide
with the unfortunate.


SNAPPING-ROPES.

This is a Scotch game, usually played by girls, but there is no reason
why boys should not play also.

Two skipping-ropes are required. Two players turn the pair of ropes,
holding the ends of both ropes in one hand precisely the same as if
they were turning a single rope, and the third player stands between
and jumps. Whoever is jumper cannot be lazy, as that party has to jump
twice as rapidly as if jumping in a single rope.



BOYS AND GIRLS.


SILHOUETTES.

Place a lighted candle behind a tall screen covered with white linen.
The hostess should sit before it and each of the company must in turn
pass between the candle and the screen. The game is to guess the person
behind the screen by means of their shadow.

The guesser should leave the room while the one to be named is
selected, and on returning, he should not look to find out who is
missing, but honestly guess from the silhouette.

Sometimes it adds to the fun to use a disguise, as at a masquerade,
for example, put on a long skirt, fasten up the hair, etc., in no case
cover the face, as it is difficult to give the right name, with every
advantage.


THE SURPRISE.

Learn what you can do with five pieces of paper. The margin of a
newspaper may be utilized if no other paper is convenient. These pieces
should be one inch long by half an inch wide. The scheme is to shape
them into squares, triangles, etc., the one who wins the game is the
one who can accomplish the most with his five pieces.

He need not use the entire five each time, but he cannot add to the
number of papers, nor can he mark them with pen, pencil or any other
thing.

As a matter of fact the whole alphabet can be formed with them, and so
many other unique designs that this game fully merits its name.


HAPHAZARD READING.

To be played by nine people; should there be more present, draw for the
players. And, as but one of the party will read, draw to decide which
one.

The reader then, having a pencil and paper, writes the parts of speech,
as the players in turn whisper to him:

No. 1. An Article.

No. 2. An Adjective.

No. 3. A Noun.

No. 4. A Verb.

No. 5. An Adverb.

No. 6. A Number.

No. 7. An Adjective.

No. 8. A Noun.

These having been written, the sentences must then be read aloud:

Example:

No. 1 whispers the article The.

No. 2, the adjective Pink.

No. 3, the noun Hawthorn.

No. 4, the verb Plays.

No. 5, the adverb Prettily.

No. 6, the number Three hundred and three.

No. 7, the adjective Fantastic.

No. 8, the noun Operas.

The sentence to be read, therefore, is, The pink hawthorn plays
prettily three hundred and three fantastic operas.

The easiest way to draw will be to provide several slips of paper,
of exact size and shape. Some of the papers must be blank, others
numbered, 1, 2, 3, and so on, making nine in all. Put these papers on
a tray and pass to all in the room. The one drawing the number 9 must
be the reader, the other numbers decide whether that individual must
whisper an article or an adjective, according to the example given.
Those having blank papers do not play.


SING, BIRDIE, SING.

This game provokes laughter from the most solemn individual. The
company should be seated in a ring. The one in command enters the ring
and makes much ceremony in giving each player the name of a bird;
which may be, for example, heron, kingfisher, bluebird, cat-bird,
wood-thrush. When each have been named, the commander then whispers
something to every person. What he whispers is a motion or sound or
both, which he wishes the person to give. When everybody has received
their cue, the commander steps to the centre of the ring and calls,
“One, two, three.” The moment “Three” is spoken, each of the company
rise, and running round the circle of empty chairs, flap their arms in
imitation of wings, sing or call as they have been directed. The heron
should make a motion as though trying to get little fish out of holes
in the bottom of a pond, or he should stand on one leg and appear to
be asleep. The kingfisher should brush up his hair, making it rough on
the top, and then act as if diving for minnows. The bluebird should
warble a sweet song. The cat-bird should appear full of fun and make
melodious notes, but he should also add the complaining _mee-aa_; for
the cat-bird is sometimes a wonderful songster, but after nesting gives
a sound that is decidedly cat-like. The wood-thrush should sing a most
tender melody, and the more melancholy the better. Hawks, wood-peckers,
chickadees, parrots, screech-owls, ducks, geese and many other birds
might be added. The greater variety introduced the better.


SQUIRREL IN THE MIDDLE.

This is a game for boys, and the player is decided by lot.

The easiest way to arrange the lot is to throw as many bits of paper,
of similar size and shape, into a hat as there are players. All of
these papers are blank excepting one, this has the word “player”
written on it. The hat is then passed, and the boy drawing the word
“player” immediately sits on the floor, the others stand in a circle
around him. Whoever is behind his back, pulls his coat, or gently
pulls his hair, taking him unawares. He turns to catch this boy, but
while doing so another boy buffets him. As the players dance about the
circle, they exclaim, “Squirrel in the middle catch him if you can.”

Finally one of the boys is caught, and he must then change places with
the one he has been tormenting.


TABLESPOONS.

Form a circle, one of the number going into the ring. Present that
person with a tablespoon for each hand, and blindfold him.

Then state that the others will skip around him three times and then
stop. As soon as they stop, they will let go hands and stand perfectly
still. The party in the ring now moves towards one of the players and
must tell who he is by touching him with the spoons only. If his guess
is correct, the person caught now exchanges places with the one in the
ring; if he is incorrect, he must try again.

This game is not as difficult as it at first appears. Carefully notice
the peculiarity of clothing each one has on before you enter the ring,
whether, for instance, the frock is trimmed, buttoned, etc., or the
scarf is a four-in-hand ornamented with a scarf-pin, or if the scarf
is run through a ring or tied in a bow. Note also the wearing of the
hair and every detail that may occur to you, and remember that the
spoons may be used whichever way one pleases. So, if they touch beads,
and there is only one person who is wearing beads that will at once
indicate the individual; or if the spoon knocks against a scarf pin
and there is only one boy wearing a scarf pin, he will of necessity be
recognized, and thus each player is caught.


THE EMPEROR’S COURT.

Put a conspicuously handsome chair in the centre of the room, also
an ottoman for the feet. On either side of this put as many ordinary
chairs as would accommodate the players.

One of the company now goes to the piano, and plays a march, all of the
others, rise, and, with considerable ceremony, escort the tallest boy
in the room to the chair of honor.

This boy now becomes an Emperor, and the chair at his disposal, his
throne, the rest of the players his court. Immediately the Emperor is
seated, the music stops, and the pianist together with the court seat
themselves also.

This game consists in copying the Emperor. If he pretends to cry, the
court must cry, if he sings, the court must sing. The Emperor should
make himself as ridiculous as is possible.

Or he might order one of the court to play the piano and have a dance,
or give a set of military tactics.

Should any of the court laugh at a time the Emperor is not laughing, he
or she must pay a forfeit.


THREE LITTLE PIGS.

This game is played after the same manner as is Silhouettes, only
those taking part should be in costume, representing the words they
illustrate. It makes capital sport, and nobody can fail to enjoy it,
whether taking part or not. The game is easily understood, and is best
described by an example.

One of the company should distinctly say,

    Three little pigs went to market.

When this is said, three pigs should appear as if going to market,
passing between a candle and a white covered screen, they should
grotesquely walk, so adding to the amusement. When these three have
hobbled off, the reader then recites,

    Three little pigs stayed at home,

which is likewise shown by three others of the company; then in like
manner,

    Three little pigs have bread and butter,

and so on through the rhyme, illustrating every scene.

Paper will be found all the material necessary to effect a disguise.
Cut it in the form of ears, etc., as is needed, and practise effects
before producing the game to amuse an audience.


THE FUNNY PRIMA DONNAS.

Three girls should wear ridiculous costumes, making themselves as
grotesque as possible. Each one being a prima donna, should try to
outdo the other in appearance as also in voice. The hair should be
fashioned after the same arrangement as that of a celebrated vocalist,
the hands and arms should be covered with evening gloves. The material
of the frock need not be costly, but it should be smart and showy; the
frock should be made with a train. Each should carry a conspicuous
fan, or immense bouquets of large bright flowers, such as full-blown
roses, poppies, yellow chrysanthemums, etc. The bouquets should be
trimmed elaborately around with white paper lace.

At an appropriate time the hostess will announce the arrival of three
celebrated Prima Donnas, and before they appear she will give each of
the company a noticeably colored paper flower, or bunch of flowers,
such as marigolds, morning glories, scarlet geraniums. Having given the
flowers, she will say, “When the artists have concluded their song, let
each one do as I do.”

This said, the artists enter, and having promenaded to the front room,
gesticulating all the time, they bow and sing a line each, and each in
a different key, to the tune of “Auld Lang Syne,” the following:

    Young Mousy Mouse
    Has made a house
    Out of the farmer’s cheese.

Then in chorus,—

    And eats away
    With friends each day,
    As jolly as you please.

Then separately the first three lines of the second verse,—

    But Mousy Mouse
    Don’t see her house
    Soon swallowed up must be.

In chorus,—

    And with that house
    Goes that poor mouse
    As sure as sure can be.

The instant the last word is sung, the hostess, with all her might
and main, throws her flower to reach the artist’s feet, and as the
company has been told to copy her, there is a perfect rain of flowers.
Afterwards they are gathered, and divided between the Prima Donnas, who
triumphantly carry them home as souvenirs of their charming reception.


DO YOU HEAR?

This game needs two persons.

Stand at a distance from your confederate who will ask, “Molly, do you
hear?” and who will keep up asking the question until some one speaks.
Then Molly says she hears and leaves the room.

No sooner out, than her confederate will explain to the company, “I
shall hand some one in this room a button, and I shall then ask Molly
to tell me who has it.” Having thus explained, he hands the button to
the individual who spoke just before Molly left the room. Then the
confederate calls, “Molly, who has the button?”

At once Molly replies correctly. The key is very simple, being only to
remember the person who spoke as she left the room.

The game when played with a boy, should have the word Johnny
substituted for Molly.


LAUGHABLE DINNER.

Each girl in succession leads a boy to a position to dance a reel.

First girl then says to first boy, “This is my flower to decorate the
table,” and she gives him a flower which he puts in his buttonhole.

Second girl to second boy, “This is my flower to decorate the table,”
and she gives him a different flower, which he puts in his buttonhole.

Third girl to third boy, “You tread clams for dinner,” and the boy must
make the motion of treading clams.

Fourth girl to fourth boy, “You catch trout for dinner,” and the boy
makes believe he is a fly-fisherman.

Fifth girl to fifth boy, “You get lamb to roast,” and the boy calls,
“Bah! bah!”

Sixth girl to sixth boy, “You get the turkey to roast,” and the boy
gives the call of a turkey-gobbler.

Seventh girl to seventh boy, “You shoot the duck for roasting,” and the
boy calls, “Quack! Quack!”

Eighth girl to eighth boy, “You are my pigeon to bake in a pie,” and
the boy flaps his arms in imitation of wings.

Ninth girl to ninth boy, “You are a baker and must bake our cake,” and
this boy pretends to beat eggs.

Tenth girl to tenth boy, “You are the young man who grinds good
coffee,” and he makes believe he is turning the crank of a coffee-mill.
As soon as the tenth boy responds, a couple of good whistlers whistle
Yankee Doodle, all the others dance a reel, repeating their calls and
motions while dancing.


JOLLY PLAY.

Arrange chairs in couples back to back, placing them in different parts
of the room, and have one too few for your company.

All the players stand, one behind the other, the one in charge at the
head of the line. He leads the party whichever way he pleases. As they
march, the leader sings to the tune of, “There were Three Crows sat on
a Tree,”

    I must be gay
    This merry day,
    But game obey
    I will, I will.

He may march about and sing this verse as often as he wishes, but while
singing, “I will, I will,” he must some time fling himself into a
chair. As soon as the leader is seated, the others make a bold rush to
follow his example. The player for whom there is no seat, now becomes
leader, and the rest of the company follow as before.


THE DWARF.

A boy should put his hands into small stockings and shoes. Then put
on a wig of different color from his own hair. He must fasten on a
moustache, and put some black sticking plaster over one or two of his
front teeth. His coat should be of a different shape and his necktie
should be of a different style from that which he usually wears.
Indeed, he must be thoroughly disguised. Back of him, another boy must
stand, and pass his arm around the first boy’s shoulder.

Curtains must be drawn so that no part of the second boy is seen but
his arms.

Put a small table before them, and from the back of this table drop
a cloth, so as to conceal the first boy below his waist. The front
boy puts his hands dressed in shoes on the table, the boy back of him
supplies his arms and hands, and if properly arranged a dwarf from
three to four feet tall is thus produced.

Of course, a tiny costume must be made. Little Turkish trousers, a
blouse-like coat, a fez, a belt and small sword.

It is well to have an exhibitor who should tell some wonderful tale
about the dwarf. And the exhibitor should indicate that the dwarf
jokes, sings and dances, an exhibition of which should then follow.

The dwarf should be fully prepared as to what he will say and
do. Several spicy jokes should be at his tongue’s end. He should
gesticulate violently with his hands and arms, and likewise sing the
jolliest of songs and dance the drollest dances.

It requires practice.


CROWN GAME.

A girl enters the ring; all the others take firm hold of the rope. No
sooner is she in than they skip about her, keeping the rope in motion.
As they skip they sing, to the tune of “Auld Lang-syne,”

    Who’ll crown our queen, our merry queen,
    Who’ll crown our queen to-day?
    Who’ll crown our queen, our merry queen,
    Who’ll crown our queen to-day?

When this is sung, the children stop skipping just where they are. And
at once one of the boys puts his head under the rope, and, standing by
the queen, replies, “I will.” Then raising a crown of wild flowers, he
puts it on her head. No sooner is she crowned than she blindfolds the
boy, and another girl enters, thus making two girls in the ring. The
game is to “tag” the right girl before the other players count nine.
When the boy “tags” the girl, he must at once say whether or not she is
the queen, and if he makes a mistake he must remain in the ring and try
again. The first girl withdraws, the second girl is crowned queen, and
the game is repeated. But should he make no mistake, the boy remains in
the ring, is crowned king, and the game goes on, only that two boys are
in the ring when a girl is blindfolded.


GUESS.

_A Rope Game._

Put a rope on the ground in the form of a circle; in the centre put
a stone about the size of a duck’s egg. The players stand backwards
around the rope, with their heels touching it. Each one in turn throws
a grace-hoop over his right shoulder, with the hope it will encircle
the stone. As soon as the hoop is thrown all may turn and see the
position. If the hoop encircles the stone the player may try again and
again, until he fails, counting one for each time. Then the party to
his right tries, and so on all around the rope. Whoever has the largest
count wins the game.

This game is also played facing the stone; it is then no longer a game
of guess, but a game of skill.


THE CIRCLE.

On the floor or ground mark a circle, the diameter of which is two feet.

The easiest way would be to use a hoople of the correct size, and chalk
it all around close to the wood. Be careful not to move the hoople
while marking. Therefore, one person would better hold the hoople,
while another uses the chalk.

Eight players are required, two and two standing together, taking the
same positions as if they were to dance a quadrille. The circle must
be in the centre of the space around which they stand, and the players
should be six feet from the outer edge.

In the circle place four small articles, three without much value,
and the other of some little value. As an example, put in three empty
bottles, and one filled with inexpensive perfume, or if you use
flowers, put three dandelions, and one half-blown rose. All articles
must be laid side by side, and as nearly as possible, in the exact
centre of the circle.

When all is ready, the host, being at the piano, should play “Pop Goes
the Weasel,” and if the game is played out of doors, the same tune
should be hummed or whistled. When the music starts, the head couples
join hands and skip to the circle and then back, this must be again and
again repeated, until the pianist suddenly stops. Those who have been
skipping must then bow to each other wherever they happen to be, also
unclasp their hands, and neither run nor walk, but skip as rapidly as
possible to the circle; sometimes they are fortunate enough to be by
it when the music stops; then at once pick up one of the articles, and
skip back to the position held at the time the game started.

These movements must be finished before the musician again commences to
play. Then, holding the article in one hand and your partner’s hand in
the other, you skip twice around the circle, and return to position.
The head couple leading, all the others following after the same order,
as the march in a quadrille.

The articles are then put where they were at the game’s start, and the
side couples repeat what the head couples have already done.

The musician should allow enough time to make it possible for all the
players to pick up an article, but he must not allow too much time, or
a prominent feature in the game is missed.

Every one is desirous to pick up the valuable article, but if you are
not careful the music will start before you have gotten anything:
in that case you must be blindfolded and skip all alone four times
around the circle. While you are skipping, the spectators are clapping.
Whoever is fortunate enough to have picked up the valuable article, may
retain it as a favor. This must therefore have a duplicate, as the side
couples have equal chances with the heads.


TWO SKIPPING-ROPE GAMES.

Take a skipping-rope whenever you go for a country frolic. One treat
will be given through clover blossoms. Each player should gather enough
of these sweet-scented flowers to make three fair-sized bouquets, when
these are made, put them in a convenient and cool place.

Take turns turning the rope; as soon as one girl is through skipping,
she should exchange with one that has been turning. In that way nobody
is tired.

Enter the rope according to height, the shortest player should go
first. As soon as the rope is in even motion, all the players excepting
the one to skip, should say, “One, two, three,” the moment “Three” is
said, whoever is to skip must enter or lose her turn. Should she trip
before skipping eight times she must give her successor a bouquet, on
the contrary, should she skip five times without a break, her successor
must present her with a bouquet. No one may be allowed to skip more
than fifteen times, as too much rope skipping is injurious.

These rules must receive strict adherence. When all have had
opportunity to skip three times, the game is finished. The winner is
the one who has received the most bouquets.

Another game requires ten players, two turning and eight skipping. In
this game those who turn cannot be relieved, but must turn until the
game is concluded.

This time the tallest player is the first to enter, the others stand
according to height, one directly back of the other. As soon as the
rope is in steady motion, the first player starts, skips once, runs
out and around to a rock or tree previously decided on, where she is
safe, the second immediately enters the rope, after the first one runs
out, the point being for the second one to tag the first before she can
reach her destination. The third player, however, enters the rope as
the second has run out, and is trying just as hard to tag the second,
as the second is to tag the first, and so on, each rapidly following
the one before, and thus this game keeps steadily on until all have
been through the rope three times.

Whoever has been tagged is out of the game, and can no longer play;
this decides who are the winners.

It now becomes the duty of all who have played, to gather quantities
of clover or other field blossoms, enough to trim the rope from one end
to the other. In this form the pretty flowers are taken home, and used
for dining-room decoration. Festoon the mantel, or wind it around the
chandelier, allowing the ends to drop low towards the table.

As only one person can have this rope of flowers, decide which one, by
counting out.


RUNNING FOR THE CAP.

The boys must be equally divided; one set is called catchers, the other
runners, and these sets must stand fifty yards apart. The catcher’s
position is thirty yards from the post, and the runners’ twenty. The
call, one, two, three, is given, and on the second three is spoken one
boy from each party runs to the post. The runner will naturally get
there first, and he has to put the cap on his head, and then replace
it. He must do this with the utmost rapidity, as, should the catcher
overtake him on his way back to the position which he held before
starting to run, the boy becomes the catcher’s prisoner, and can no
longer play.


FIRE-ARCH DISCOUNT GAME.

A strip of wood two inches thick, five inches wide, and one yard long
will be required. In this cut five arches, making the centre one four
inches in width, the others three inches each; stand it up on the floor
or on a table, and make the starting-point six feet away. Four marbles
may be rolled by each player. When a marble goes through the centre
arch it counts sixty, but if, instead, it goes through either of the
small arches, thirty is counted off. If a marble fails to pass through
either, it is counted out of the game, and must be removed. The next
turn around, the player will use only three instead of four marbles.
The boy who has the highest tally has won; should there be a tie, they
must roll again.

This game requires practice, or some players will find that they have
lost more than they have made.


THE BAGATELLE BOARD COUNT GAME.

Chalk a floor or mark a space in exact copy of a bagatelle-board ten
feet long by three wide. In the inclosure, at correct distances, mark
the numbers; this may be done with chalk, or the numbers may be painted
on thin wooden blocks and laid in position. Each player must start
his marble at the extreme left-hand corner, and state before starting
the number he wishes to roll to. Should the marble go to that number,
and not roll on so as to touch another, the player counts the number
selected, and can then state another number and play for that, and can
so continue for seven minutes, provided his marble always hits the
number selected, and though rolling on, does not touch or stop at any
other. When his time is up his count is scored, and the next player
follows, subject to the same rules. Should the marble stop on the
number selected, it is counted double in favor of the player. Again,
should the marble, having reached the selected number, still roll on
and touch another, no count is allowed, and the player must stop until
his turn comes again.


FUNNY QUESTIONS WITH FUNNY ANSWERS.

All the players stand in a circle and join hands.

The tallest one in the room whispers a question to her right-hand
neighbor, who answers her in a whisper, and then turns and asks _her_
right-hand neighbor a question, who replies in like manner. When
questions and answers have all gone around, the party who commenced
states aloud the question her _left_-hand neighbor asked, and the reply
her _right_-hand neighbor gave.

Example: Suppose three players.

First questions.

Second answers, then turns and ask third.

Third answers, and asks the first, who answers.

Then, questions and answers having gone all around, first says aloud,
“My left-hand neighbor asked, and my right-hand neighbor answered.”

First Player: What is the brightest idea this season?

Second Player: Your eye, dear (idea).

How many blackbirds were baked in the pie?

Third Player: Four-and-twenty. What was the name of Goliath of Gath’s
grandmother’s straw bonnet maker?

First Player: Nobody knows.

When all have played.

First Player, aloud: The question asked me was, “What was the name of
Goliath of Gath’s grandmother’s straw bonnet maker?” the answer was,
“Your eye, dear (idea).”

Second Player: The question asked me was, “What is the brightest idea
this season?” The answer was, “Four-and-twenty!”

Third Player: The question asked was, “How many blackbirds were baked
in the pie?” The answer was, “Nobody knows.”

The one whose question has been most appropriately answered aloud,
must be entertained by the others, as he desires—by dancing, playing a
favorite game, by music, recitations or any other suggested amusement.


JUDGE AND JURY.

Draw lots for a Judge and five Jurymen. Pass six numbered paper slips
in a fancy bag. Whoever draws number one is Judge, and the others the
Jury. All the other players take the name of a celebrated musician or
composer, as Beethoven, De Pachmann, or Schubert, etc.

The Judge now takes a seat at one end of the room. The Jurymen sit at
one side in a row, and the rest of the people sit at a distance. The
Judge calls one of the other players up to the bar and proceeds to
question him or her. The _prisoner_ is bound to answer any question the
Judge may see fit to ask, and the business of the Jury is to decide the
name of the musician the prisoner has assumed.

Ten questions are all that may be asked. At the end of those the
prisoner seats himself and awaits the Jury’s verdict. If the first
decision of the Jury is incorrect, the prisoner is released. But if
correct, the prisoner takes the place of one of the Jurymen, who must
draw to determine which one is relieved. The ex-Juryman then takes his
place among the waiting prisoners and assumes a character.

After three trials the Judge must be a Juryman, and one of them must
take his place. This, too, is decided by lot.

By so doing all are on duty all the time, and the end of the game is
when the players are tired.


THE CARD INTRODUCTION.

When young people are not very well acquainted, play this game, and by
the time that it is finished every one will think he must have known
everybody else for the last seven years.

Place chairs so as to form a ring, and ask your friends to be seated.
Then have a pack of say, authors’ cards in your hand, state that every
one must say what you say, and give what you give to his left-hand
neighbor. Then lifting up the top card in the pack, you say to your
guest at your left, “Here’s my card, Longfellow.” The one who receives
it instantly turns to the party at his left and, giving the card,
repeats the same words, “Here’s my card, Longfellow.” The next card
follows at once in the same manner, repeating whatever its portrait,
may be, and so card follows card without a second’s delay, and the
laughter and fun that is made causes even the dullest person in the
room to wake up and be hale fellow for the next entertainment. Should
any card drop, let it go. There will not be enough time to pick it up
until the game is ended.


HARMONY SOLOISTS.

One of the young men must represent the Lord of Misrule, and in
fantastic attire he goes from one to the other of the guests and asks
each to draw one slip of paper from the basket which he carries.

On each slip are written four lines of any popular or well-known song.
Each slip contains a different song.

As soon as the papers are drawn five of the people stand up in a line,
and with the Lord of Misrule as director they each sing separately
their particular four lines to the correct tune. When each of the five
have sung, all sing together as chorus, each carefully keeping his own
words and music.

Then another five, and then another, until all have sung. Then for
a grand finale, all the guests stand as chorus and in duets, trios,
quartettes sing the one stanza through, all joining in the refrain each
time.

The harmony will be remarkable.


JIG-I-TY JIG.

Chairs are placed to form a circle, and all the players excepting two
occupy the chairs.

One of the two players must play a polka or waltz. The other one stands
outside of the circle.

The one standing outside dances as soon as the music starts, and
continues dancing as long as she pleases, but all of a sudden she stops
a second before a chair, and then dances up to the chair. Whoever
occupies it instantly rises and dances back to her, and after a while
the first dancer waves a backward movement of the hand toward her
friend, thus indicating she is not wanted to continue dancing. But she
must walk or waltz back to her chair and then sit down.

The first dancer continues dancing, however, and goes to another
party in precisely the same way as she did to the first, and when she
concludes she has the right one, she dances to that party’s seat and
takes it.

The individual then on the floor continues dancing, as did the first
one. When she sits down a third party dances, and so on until all have
danced.

If any of the company do not dance, they should make a feint of doing
so. If the individual is full of fun, much amusement is created.


CIRCLE GAME.

Make a target of brown wrapping-paper, and put the number 100 on the
bull’s eye. Outside of this mark five rings, making the largest one
two feet in diameter, the others proportionately smaller. Inside of
these rings put the numbers 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, the centre as stated
being 100. Mark out a space on the ground for a base five feet away;
place the target on the ground, blindfold a player, lead him to the
base, and turn him around twice, and leave him facing the target. He
is now entitled to roll three marbles, and then remove the blindfold.
His count will be the added numbers in the rings at which his marbles
have stopped. Should any of them stop on a line, he is entitled to the
largest number adjoining. No marbles must be moved, and each boy has
the privilege of trying the ground once with each marble, before being
blindfolded.


THE HUNT FOR THE KEYHOLE.

A tall boy should put on the skirt of a lady’s dress. This skirt should
just escape the floor. In his hands he should carry a broom, with the
broom end held directly above him, and the broom handle held close in
front of him.

A ball to simulate a person’s head should be secured by strong twine to
the broom. This ball should have a false face securely fastened to the
front of it, while, as a cover for the rest of the ball there should
be a lady’s bonnet. This bonnet cannot be too grotesquely trimmed.
Long plumes, brilliant flowers, natural or artificial, sunflowers,
hollyhocks, cucumber blossoms, etc., would be correct decoration. The
bonnet should be tied underneath the false face, being careful to have
the bow ends voluminous and the streamers long. The ribbon should be
vivid scarlet, or bright orange color.

Just below the bonnet and around the broom fasten a cloak, the bottom
of which should reach beyond the boys waist; in this way the boy and
the broom are entirely concealed.

The company should be asked to take seats at the rear end of the room,
then announce that they are to be entertained by the pantomime entitled
“The Hunt for the Keyhole.”

Then the door should be opened, and at once a tall, odd-looking
individual enters. His appearance creates roars of laughter, as also
his ridiculous actions when having bowed to the audience he turns
to the door through which he has come and commences his search. The
effect is ridiculous, as the head is bobbed around in every direction
whichever way the boy chooses to turn, as also whichever way he chooses
to move the broom. When enough amusement has been gotten, the boy again
bows and comically waltzes out of the room.

The boy will need an assistant to dress, and this game should be
privately practised before showing it to an audience.


ACTING PROVERBS

This is played by one of the party leaving the room, and on his return
acting in such a manner as to indicate to the others a well-known
proverb. Example, “A rolling stone gathers no moss,” may be indicated
by the one having left the room returning with a round stone in his
hand and rolling it on the floor.


GOSSIP.

This title suggests an amusing _tableau vivant_ for an evening at home.

Two girls should withdraw and put over their pretty dresses
queer-looking old shawls, and cover their curls with odd-looking
bonnets tied under the chin.

They should sit very close together, and with cups of tea in their
hands gaze intently at each other, busily stirring the while. They must
nod their heads as though one were telling a bit of scandal.

Suddenly one exclaims in a high-pitched voice, “You don’t say so!”
whereupon the hostess should inquire, “Who can tell what these girls
represent?”

A number of the company will naturally reply, “Gossip.”


THE FLORIST.

Whoever assumes this character should explain that he has flowers
for sale, and that he will try and sell all that he has by putting
questions to the persons whom he thinks will buy, and that whoever in
answering his questions uses the words _flowers_, _yes_, or _no_ would
have to pay a forfeit, and that he will try all that he can to get them
to use one of the prohibited words.

Then the Florist should turn to one of the players and ask, “Can I sell
you any fresh flowers to-day?”

“I am fully supplied, thank you.” And addressing another, “Do buy my
sweet violets.”

“Not to-day, sir.”

“How about carnations?”

“I don’t wish flowers of any kind.”

And in that way a forfeit is incurred.

The questions should be rapidly asked, and as rapidly answered, or the
players will not get caught.


MY LADY’S RECEPTION APPAREL.

One of the players should act the part of lady’s maid. Each of the
players should take the name of something which a lady would wear to
a reception, as an article of clothing or jewelry. Or a player may
take the name of an article a lady would use in getting ready for a
reception, as a comb and brush.

The lady’s maid should stand at one end of the room, and looking
towards the players announce, “My lady is going to a reception
to-night, and wishes a handkerchief,” or whatever article she may
choose to select. The one named instantly rises, and steps two feet
forward, makes a low bow, then suddenly starting up twists about, and
turning to her right-hand neighbor says, “Change chairs.”

No sooner said than done. Everybody on the instant rushes for a chair,
including the lady’s maid, and the one that is left without a chair
becomes the next lady’s maid.

This person may continue the game, as did the previous maid, or she may
say, “My lady is going to a reception to-night and wants her salts.”

The moment salts are desired some of the players must sneeze as if the
salts were too strong, others should appear to faint, and others wave
their hands forward and back as if fanning.

Any second that the lady’s maid may choose she may exclaim, “Change
chairs!” and again there is another scramble, with one person left
without, and there is therefore a new lady’s maid.

This maid may try yet another way, which will result in getting almost
all of the players on their feet before they can change chairs. She
asks the players to re-name themselves, and for nearly all of them to
select articles of apparel.

Then the maid says, for instance, “My lady desires her white ivory fan.”

The person so named should rise, go two feet forward and, having bowed
very low, should stand just where she is until the signal for change
chairs is given.

The maid might then say, “My lady desires her white satin gown.” The
person named white satin gown rises, and repeats the action of the one
going before. And thus the maid continues to call, until having all the
requisite articles of apparel. But when she exclaims, “My lady wishes
her white kid shoes!” all rush for a seat.

Whoever is left without a chair after this method of playing must
rapidly tell the bootblack story.

“As I was going down the street I saw two bootblacks. One was a black
bootblack and the other a white bootblack, and both had black boots,
as well as blacking and blacking brushes. The black bootblack asked
the white bootblack to black his, the black bootblack’s black boot
with blacking. The white bootblack consented to black the black boots
of the black bootblack with blacking, but when he, the white bootblack
had blacked one black boot of the black bootblack with blacking, he
the white bootblack refused to black his, the black bootblack’s, other
black boot with blacking unless he, the black bootblack, paid him, the
white bootblack, the same as what he, the white bootblack, got for
blacking other people’s black boots; whereupon, the black bootblack
grew still blacker in the face, and called the white bootblack a
blackguard, at the same time hitting the white bootblack with the black
boot that he, the white bootblack, had already blacked with blacking.”

Should any one not leave his chair he must pay a forfeit.

Should the maid ask for an article that has not been taken for a name,
she must pay a forfeit.


THIMBLE GAME.

In order to be enjoyable this game requires several players, and it
is better that they should be both boys and girls, as it then has the
added element of a match between the boys and girls.

Put a silver or gold thimble in full view, in any convenient room,
into which your friends have not yet entered. It makes the game more
difficult if this room is well filled with _bric-à-brac_, hangings,
pictures, plants, etc., for the reason that the eye is confused with so
much ornament and therefore cannot so easily detect such a small thing
as a thimble.

State clearly the following directions before your friends enter.
No one can touch anything. Each player must stand until he sees the
thimble. Every one may walk about as much as he pleases, but talking
is prohibited. Having seen the thimble, immediately sit down. It is
a point of honor that no player will give information. When all are
seated the game is finished.

Of course the girls want to get ahead of the boys, and the boys ahead
of the girls, in locating the thimble. Therefore if a boy sits down
first, the girls are sorry; and if a boy sits down last, the boys are
sorry.

The one who first sits down is the one to receive honor, and he has the
privilege of selecting the next game as well as deciding on the forfeit
to be given by the boy or girl who has been the last to sit down.
Sometimes the hostess gives the thimble to the one winning the game.

Players must be very cautious, or their eyes will tell what their
tongues would not; therefore, having seen the thimble, at once glance
in another direction, and you will thus mystify where you would
otherwise assist.


THE TOUCH GAME.

This requires an assistant to whom the secret of the game is intrusted.
The assistant leaves the room, the other party remains with the
company, and states that during the assistant’s absence she will put
her hand on some object, person, or thing, and when the assistant
returns he will tell what has been touched.

The assistant now being out, the piano stool is touched. On the
assistant’s return he is asked, “What did I touch?” at once he replies,
“The piano stool.”

Of course this causes great surprise and the assistant is asked to go
out again, the company expecting, perhaps, to be able to guess this
time. For a change a girl is touched, and on the assistant’s return he
is asked, “Whom did I touch?” and he promptly says, “Bessie Brown,” or
whatever the girl’s name.

Then the players think there must be some look or gesture given to aid
the assistant when he re-enters, and so they are given the privilege of
blindfolding him before his return, but all in vain, the assistant is
as correct as before and no one is able to guess.

Then the company beg: “Do tell us the secret.” So when all give up they
are told that just before the assistant leaves the room, the other
player secretly touches some person or thing, or perhaps indicates what
the object is with his foot or perhaps sits on it, if it be a chair or
stool. Occasionally, to further mystify, it would be well to simply
fold one’s arms. This would signify to the confederate, “I am touching
myself.” Therefore the assistant, whether blindfolded or not, can
answer correctly, because he has received his clue before he went out.

Of course, this game requires an intelligent assistant; indeed, both
players must be very careful, as so many eyes are on the constant
lookout.

This will be found a satisfactory game for a rainy afternoon in a
summer hotel, when the grown people are taking naps and there seems
absolutely nothing left for young people to do, and they are tired
watching the weather, and saying, “If it would _only_ clear!”


THE CONCERT.

Select a conductor. All others sit before him in a semicircle, and each
is given an imaginary musical instrument.

The conductor next directs them to tune their instruments, after which,
taking a cane he waves it, as if it were a baton. He also whistles or
hums a gay, familiar air. In this all join, imitating by voice and
gesture the instruments they are supposed to be playing on, such as the
flute, the harp, the hand-organ, the cymbals, violin, cornet, etc.

Suddenly he waves his baton and the music ceases.

The conductor then calls for solos. All the musicians give close
attention, and the conductor makes believe he is playing, thus
indicating which instrument he wishes to hear.

The player having that instrument must at once obey, imitating both
sound and gestures. Should he fail, he must pay a forfeit.


A CURIOUS CAT.

This is a trick to be played only where the people know each other very
well.

A tall screen is required, a cat, a saucer of milk, a table and a
showman.

The showman is the most important, for on his ready wit and tactful
manner the success of the trick depends.

He stands by the screen and says to the audience,

    Come behind this screen and you will see
    A cat with her head where her tail ought to be.

One by one, the guests may go, and each must observe a discreet
silence, so that the rest may not guess what the trick is.

As each goes behind the screen, a table is seen on which is a cat with
her tail towards a saucer of milk, where, were it not for the showman’s
efforts, her head would naturally be. This foolish trick will always
cause a hearty laugh.


A BOAT RACE.

Girls who do not care to row should act as umpires. A grand stand may
be a massive rock ornamented with a tangle of vines and for a canopy a
wide-branched tree.

There should be three races, one between the girls, another between
the boys, and a third between the girls and boys together. Two large
willows or other trees, conspicuously overhanging the water, and
therefore impossible to mistake, should be selected as the points to
start and end the race, the prow of the boat should be even with the
centre of the tree trunk at starting, and the stern of the boat should
be even with the centre of the tree trunk on closing. Only one person
should be in the boat at a time, and no person can have a second chance.

As the water is frequently too narrow for all boats to be out at once,
it is wiser to try two boats at a time, and then two more should row
and so on. After the race is over the victors must row again, two and
two, as at the first, and so determine the winners. When the winning
girl and the winning boy are known, they should race together, and thus
the champion rower will be discovered. Whoever is champion should be
rewarded with a wreath of laurel, after the fashion of the great Roman
victors; if laurel cannot be found, use oak leaves and tell the hero
they are meant for laurel. The wreath must be made and at the grand
stand before the race opens. The coronation should take place at the
stand.

While gathering the leaves for the crown it would prove a pleasure to
gather quantities of wild flowers, with which to decorate the boats. A
simple and pretty trimming would be to carpet the boat with moss and
edge it around with fern leaves. Another way would be to canopy a boat
with apple blossoms; the branches are easily held in place between the
narrow strip of wood that forms the border, and the boat itself. But a
canopy retards motion, and the rowers must consider speed before they
decide on decoration.


THREE LITTLE MAIDS FROM SCHOOL.

Three tall boys should dress as prima donnas, carry bouquets, and sing
the popular song, “Three Little Maids from School are we.”

After this they should appear as giants and perform a variety of tricks.

For example: Hold an umbrella over their heads, which is covered with
a long cloak. To the top of the umbrella-stick fasten a ball the size
of a person’s head, on to this ball put a round hat, and a veil so as
to conceal the face. Thus the boys will be of gigantic size, and their
very appearance will provoke laughter.

After bowing to their friends, they should dance a few reel figures,
then walk about the room and examine the chandeliers, tops of the
pictures or frescoing. Then play “Puss in the corner.” When they repeat
“Puss, Puss, Puss,” they should use unnatural tones.

It is very funny, and those who are not “little maids” will have almost
as much sport as if they were.


THE WAR OF THE ROSES.

This is a pretty, interesting and instructive game, as those engaged in
it and not familiar with the period of history to which it refers may
be led to study it, and the knowledge received through playing may thus
prove beneficial.

It is particularly suited to out-of-door amusement, though it may be
played indoors by making a field of battle. This could be done by
putting a rug in the centre of a room, and stating, that rug represents
the battlefield of Saint Albans, or the battle-field of Towton, or you
may have both battles, should you so prefer.

When played out of doors, mark out a piece of lawn in the same way that
a tennis court is marked. Or, should there be no lawn, mark an oblong
on the ground by means of a sharp-pointed stick.

The battle-field should be five feet one way, and three the other.

Choose two of the largest boys for leaders; one of them will personate
Richard the Duke of York, the other the nearest relative of the house
of Lancaster, who was the Duke of Somerset.

Then in turn, commencing with the Duke of York, the boys will call
their soldiers, which may be (as this is a game) girls as well as boys.
As each one’s name is called, he stands in line on the side of his
leader. When all are chosen, the Duke of York gives his soldiers, as
also himself, the symbol of the Yorkists, which was a white rose, and
in like manner the Lancastrians receive their symbol, which was a red
one.

Commencing at the foot of the line, the Duke of York will blindfold his
soldier, and lead him around for one minute, thus confusing him as to
location; but when he stops leading him, he must be six feet from the
battlefield, and his face so turned as to make it possible to reach it.
Then the leader calls one, two, three, and at once the soldier throws
his rose. The blindfold is then removed, and he will see how near the
field his charge has reached.

It is now the turn of the house of Lancaster, and the Duke of Somerset
will blindfold the soldier at the end of his line, and thus the game
proceeds as before. When every one has played, the roses on the
battlefield are counted. Whichever side has on the most roses has won.
Then all the roses are picked up and presented to the victors by the
losing side. Each one of the winners then adorns himself with a red and
white rose.

No rose can be counted on the battlefield, unless every part of it is
on, including the stem and foliage.

There must be an even number of players.


UNBAR.

Every player excepting the boy known as Bear, must twist and knot his
handkerchief. The Bear selects a tree as a starting point, and states
his object will be to tag the others. Whoever is tagged becomes a Bear,
and must return to the tree, pursued and beaten all the way back with
the knotted handkerchiefs. The two Bears then join hands, and, starting
out, try to tag every one that is possible, and this action is repeated
until all the players are Bears. Whenever the chain of Bears is broken,
as it sometimes is by an attack from the rear, the Bears again return
to the tree.


BIRD TEST.

Give each player a slip of paper on which he must write the birds’
names. Also the number of times the word bird and birds’ names occur.

The correct number to find is seventy-six.

Time allowed is six minutes.

The slip should be headed Bird Test.

One day while walking along a grassy lane conspicuously edged with
blackberry bushes, my attention was riveted by the song of a bird, a
sort of up and down warble, and in the branches of a maple tree near,
I saw a red-eyed viero, and not far off, quietly looking towards the
singer, was such a pretty warbler, another greenlet, the white-eyed
viero.

Listening to the red-eye, the viero’s warble grew less and less
distinct as the distance lengthened between us. The warbler warbled
the same sweet song, but my ear was less able to catch the warbling
warbler’s notes, and soon the greenlet, the viero, the musical,
silver-tongued warbler, warbled for me all in vain.

But as I walked I thought how rarely that we meet people who are
indifferent to birds, and how desolate our lanes, woods and gardens
would be without them. And how much beauty is added to bushes, flowers,
and trees, if a singing bird rests on them long enough for us to
listen to his song. And then I named over some favorite birds. The
meadow lark, blue jay, Carolina wren, wood thrush, robin, swallow.
But suddenly I heard “Me-au, me-au,” as if a cat was near. I stood
just where I was, to discover the creature. My thought of birds gave a
thought of protection. A moment later and I laughed aloud, for flying
over my head was the jolly song-bird, called cat-bird, who has a bad
habit of mewing. But the sunshine seemed pleasant company for him; for
watching the cat-bird’s movements I saw him alight on a tree close by,
and with a hop and a skip go from limb to limb.

Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will, and again on the alert, my eyes were
almost strained, this time in effort to follow the sad cry, looking
everywhere for whip-poor-will. When what a pleasant surprise, to learn
that whip-poor-will was none other than the brilliantly colored mocking
bird, whose fancy had dictated the whip-poor-will’s melancholy notes
and now whizzed close to me, to nestle on the blackberry blossoms a few
steps beyond.

Then walking on I thought of the many birds about us, the brown
thrasher, and white-throated sparrow, the tree sparrow, the bank and
barn swallows, and the sociable sparrow, dear little chippy, and of
what I had read about fly-catchers and veerys, and the crested titmouse
who gleefully shouts in the wildest winds, “T’ sweet here! t’ sweet
here!”

My walk by this time was hurried into a run, and I caught my foot into
some poor bird’s nest that was hidden in the long grass, and I almost
fell, but being glad I had not tripped over a rut-runner, I thought of
the quotation, “Runs like the kill-deer up the rut,” and a warbler near
sang so cheerily that I forgot my accident and soon reached the creek
towards which I was hastening. When who should come first to greet me
but a yellow-billed cuckoo. And thus my mind dwelt on other birds that
liked creeks and lakes, such as the kingfisher, and on the instant I
heard the report of a gun, and sure enough one of these birds had just
been shot. I knew this because of the excitement of a group of gunners.

Poor bird! How many birds’ lives end in a similar way. The cardinal
grosbeak and the myrtle bird, a greenlet in color, we fancy myrtle
suggests greenlet, the snow-buntings, horned larks, golden-crowned
kinglet and vesper sparrows, the red-polls and crossbills, the plovers,
the golden herons, night-herons, sandpipers, coots, hawks, geese, and
swans,—all are marks for the hunter.

And then I thought, Oh, if I could fly over this clapper-rail ahead of
me! It is so very stupid to keep my feet on the earth. How jolly to
flap my wings to the Lapland long-spur. I would visit the raven and all
the rest of the feathered family on the way.

But my walk had ended and such a pretty warbler warmly welcomed me
home,—my golden-hued, night-singing canary.

PARLOR FORTUNE-TELLING.

This amusement is sure to interest, and may be played by any number of
people, the more the merrier.

Those to have their fortune told should have a slip of paper and a
pencil. The one telling the fortune dictates from the book what to
write. After all the answers are written, the fortune-teller reads the
questions, and the players in turn read the answers aloud, according to
what they have written. Suppose the following fortune:

1. Have you a favorite? Yes.

2. What is her name? A girl’s name.

3. What color is her hair? A color.

4. What color are her eyes? A color.

5. Does she wear spectacles? Yes or no.

6. How old is she? A number.

7. How tall is she? A number of feet.

8. Is she pretty? Yes or no.

9. How many teeth has she? A number.

10. How much money has she? An amount of dollars.

11. What shape is her mouth? A shape.

12. What shape is her nose? A shape.

13. How large is her hand? A number of inches.

14. How large are her feet? A number of inches.

15. Is she fond of music? Yes or no.

16. What is her favorite book? The name of a book. 17. Does she dance?
Yes or no.

18. Can she sing? Yes or no.

19. Does she recite? Yes or no.

20. What can she cook best? Mention an article of diet.

21. Does she use a chafing dish? Yes or no.

22. Can she make her own hats? Yes or no.

23. What is her greatest virtue? A virtue.

24. What is her greatest fault? A fault.

25. Where does she live? A city.

26. In a handsome house? Yes or no.

27. Does she ride a bicycle? Yes or no.

28. Are you glad you are acquainted with her? Yes or no.

29. Does she like you? Yes or no.

30. Will her father give her a marriage dowry? Yes or no.

31. How many dollars? An amount of money.

32. Where will you be married? A place.

33. Will you be a model husband? Yes or no.

34. How many dollars a year will you give her for housekeeping
purposes? An amount of money.

35. Where will you live? A city.

36. Will you entertain much? Yes or no.

37. Will you travel? Yes or no.

38. What city will you first visit? A city.

39. How long will you remain there? A period of time.

40. When will you return home? A period of time.

41. Will your home be happy? Yes or no.

42. Would you be sorry if you were never married? Yes or no.

43. Next to yourself, whom do you like best? A girl’s name.

44. Will your wife be jealous? Yes or no.

45. Will your wife lecture? Yes or no.

46. What is she doing now? Describe a motion.

47. What would you like her to do? Describe a motion.

48. What is your highest ambition? A state of being.

49. Will your life be crowned with success? Yes or no.


“IT.”

Many of the games with which we are familiar in the United States are
well known throughout Great Britain and on the Continent. But among the
most amusing and most popular of English games is one of which we know
little or nothing. It is dignified by the two-lettered name, “It.”

This is altogether suitable for the parlor, and may be played by
everybody if we will except the very young people. It creates roars
of laughter, on account of the funny mistakes made by the questioners.
“It” is a great mystery, and the longer it is played the greater
mystery often it becomes. Only those understanding this game may remain
in the room. All others must leave; there is no alternative. One of the
party, unfamiliar with the game, is then selected to return, and must,
by questioning those in the parlor, learn what “it” is. When he knows
“it,” he too must remain behind, and some one else is selected to fill
his place. In this way the game is carried on, until each one in turn
comes in and finds out the secret.

“It” is really the person who sits at your left, but, before this is
discovered, usually much amusement is made. The game is played in the
following way:

All in the parlor must sit in a circle, and must not change their
positions. When the player is called in, he is told to ask a question
of whomsoever he may please, and the person must correctly answer. For
example—“Is ‘it’ white?” As everybody present is white, the answer is
necessarily “Yes.”

The questioner then asks another person. “Is ‘it’ thin?” and if the
person thus questioned is thin, the answer is again, “Yes.” Perhaps
this question may be repeated, and some one else is asked, “Do you also
think ‘it’ is thin?” and if this person has someone for a left-hand
neighbor who is very stout, of course he answers, “No.”

And thus the questioner is mystified, and must continue question after
question. For a long time he may think “it” is a thing. Therefore a
good question to put would be, “Is ‘it’ alive?” And then he might ask,
“Is ‘it’ in this room?” Then he might try complexion, and again would
be mystified, for if he asked, “Is ‘it’ a brunette?” and the reply
being “Yes,” his next question, “Has ‘it’ dark eyes?” would perhaps
have for answer, “No,” and, “Has ‘it’ light hair?” “Yes.” And so the
secret seems harder than ever.

A good way is to ask the same questions over and over, and try to
locate “it” in that way. But the questioner should not easily be
discouraged. A few points may be given to him, such as some of the
above. The players would better announce “It” as a trick game.


THE CENT HUNT.

Say that a cent is wrapped in tissue-paper and is within sight. The
discoverer quietly tells you, and if he is correct, reward him.

Afterwards give a cent, pencil and paper to everybody, and state five
minutes are allowed to write what each side of the cent will tell.
This game is called, A Penny for your Thoughts.

“Find on one side: A beverage—T. A messenger—one c(s)ent. A piece of
armor—shield. A symbol of victory—wreath. A weapon—arrow. A mode of
punishment—stripes. A gallant—bow. A sheet of water—C.

“Find on the other side: A portion of a hill—brow. A place of
worship—temple. An animal—hare. Youth and old age—18—96. One way of
expressing marriage—U. S. A cultivated flower—tulip. An emblem of
royalty—crown. Fruit—date.”


A FAGOT PARTY.

This is a very entertaining amusement and suitable for all ages.

As the word fagot means a bundle of twigs, it suggests an open fire.
Therefore home and hearth are indispensable environment.

There should be just as many twigs as there are girls and boys. The
idea being that each should draw a twig from the bundle as his name is
called. And they are called by the hostess according to the letters of
the alphabet. Whosever name therefore commences with A, should draw
the first twig. Having drawn the twig, A puts it on the open fire and
at once commences to tell a story. As long as the twig lasts, A must
continue to talk, but when it is burned he must stop, and as twigs
are apt to burn very rapidly when toward the end, the story is not
infrequently wound up in a jiffy. As soon as A has finished, the next
name is called and that person does exactly as did the first one, only
he must tell a different story. And so on until everybody has taken his
turn.


THE HUNTER.

This very lively game is played by both boys and girls, and the more,
of course, the merrier. The hunter must be a boy, and to decide which
boy, it is best to count out. Use for counting the old rhyme,

    Ana, mana, mona, mike,
    Bassa, lona, bona, strike,
    Hare, ware, frown, stack,
    Halloka, balloka, wee, woe, why, whack.

Whoever is fortunate enough to have the word “whack” counted to him is
out, and then the rhyme must be repeated over and over, and finally the
hunter is left. It now becomes his duty to name the rest of the company
as his equipments as sportsman, and also as his game; for example,
pointer, setter—two species of hunting dogs—and shot, belt, powder,
gun, powder-flask, rifle, cartridge, rabbit, squirrel, partridge,
kingfisher, etc., etc.

Put two rows of chairs back to back. There should be one chair less
than there are players. This done, each one of the company except the
hunter takes a chair. The hunter, standing before the rest of the
players, then sings, to the tune of “I Love a Sixpence,”

    I am a hunter, a jolly, jolly hunter;
    I love hunting as I love my life.

This he may sing over as many times as he likes, but finally stops
short in the middle or anywhere, and immediately calls out a name—for
instance, “Shot.” The person bearing this name must at once rise, and
hurrying towards the hunter, must take hold of the back of his coat or
jacket. Then the hunter continues his song, and calls for each one,
until all are behind him, each holding firmly to the one in front. When
all are in place, the hunter starts running, all of the party following
and holding tightly together. He may run around the chairs or wherever
he pleases, provided he keeps in the room. For fully two minutes this
must keep up, when suddenly he will call, “Bang!” and instantly sit on
one of the chairs. Of course there is a great scramble for every one to
do likewise, but as one chair is short, some one is necessarily left
out, and this person now becomes the hunter.

The game now continues as before, or it may be varied by the hunter
having to find something hidden.

Any object may be placed out of sight in the room, and when the hunter
nears it, the company may aid him by the usual words, “warm, warmer,
hot,” or “cool, very cold, freezing, zero, below zero,” etc. If he
finds it within five minutes, he may choose another hunter, but if not
he must pay a forfeit, to be determined by the rest of the players.

Or the game may be played in a similar way by the use of nautical
instead of hunting terms. Should this be preferred, the hunter becomes
the captain, and instead of singing to his company he may blow a few
blasts on a horn. He is supposed to be on shipboard, so he must have
ship equipment, crew, officers, passengers, cargo. Again the players
must be named, only this time call them lifeboat, rope, anchor, sailor,
steward, captain’s boy, purser, first-mate, doctor, etc.


FIVE.

Select a boy and hand him a knotted handkerchief. He must throw the
handkerchief at a player, and before he can count aloud five the
person to whom it is thrown must mention a round thing, such as an
apple, a globe. If that person fails, he must change places with the
one who has caught him, and throw the handkerchief at another. As no
repetitions are allowed it will soon be difficult to find an object
that is round.


BREAKFAST.

Every player is seated. Turn to the person at your right and ask,
“Will you come to breakfast?” To which the answer is “Yes.” When that
question and answer have gone around the room, the first one must
ask, “What would you like for breakfast?” Perhaps the reply would be,
“Milk;” and he then puts the question to his right-hand neighbor, who
perhaps would say “Oatmeal,” and so on, until no sensible answer can be
made, for no repetitions can occur in this game also. As the different
players fail to respond they must stand.


ALPHABET.

Give any letter of the alphabet—for example, S—to the company, also
some paper and pencils. In five minutes’ time they should write the
names of three celebrated men, and also three sensible sentences, one
for each man’s name, as, Shakespeare was born in Stratford on the Avon.
Forfeits are required for failures.


NINETY-NINE.

Cut an equi-triangle out of soft wood or cardboard. It should measure
one foot each way, and be one-quarter of an inch or less in thickness.
Besides the triangle you will require white celluloid chips, or the
game may be played with large-sized white bone buttons.

Lay the triangle on a smooth-surfaced table, play in turn, and each
player should start at the place. All players must be close enough to
the table to watch the game. The point of the game is to make a count
of ninety-nine. Whoever first makes that number has won.

The triangle must be placed far enough from the table’s edge to allow
freedom of room all around it, and it should be kept firm.

Put a chip or button with its upper edge even with the angle from which
you start, and just close enough to make it possible for it to slide
and not receive hindrance. The chip should touch the entire sliding
length. When all is in correct position, rest the knuckle of the right
thumb (unless you are left-handed, in that case your left thumb) on the
table, and put the back of the nail of your second finger about half an
inch down on the inside of the thumb’s fore-joint. Then push the finger
suddenly outward, running its nail along the table, close to the
thumb’s point, and finally raising the finger so that its tip is on the
table at the exact moment that it has touched the chip. This should
result in sending the chip the entire length of the angle’s side. To
make a full count the chip must stop with its outer edge even with the
next angle; the entire chip, with the exception of the edge, being
below it. When this done, score three, and do the same thing with the
next side, you then score three more; and again with the third side,
making a count of nine in all. Having gone around three sides, stop
until your turn is reached again. If however, the chip is not even with
the angle, but has not gone _entirely_ beyond it, the player may count
one, and may continue playing, the same as if making a full count. But
should the chip slide entirely beyond the angle, he cannot count at
all, but must withdraw until his turn comes again.

He must not be discouraged, however, but remember that “He laughs best
who laughs last.” Very often those who start successfully, become too
self-conscious, and make a bad break towards the close of the game.

Every time your turn comes, therefore be as careful as if just
commencing. Even numbers are not counted, make one or three. To be
entitled to three you must be perfect; short of perfection the count is
one or nothing, as the above rules decree.


THE DAILY PAPER.

This game is suitable for either girls or boys, and furnishes amusement
at almost any age. The interest will be increased or diminished,
according to individual carefulness, for no one need be caught if they
give close attention. Therefore, to be often caught indicates lack of
interest, which is not complimentary to your leader, or stupidity,
which is not complimentary to yourself.

Every player assumes the character of a business man or woman, or they
may have a profession. They may be manufacturers or tradespeople, it
matters little what, provided there be no duplicates. Choose one for
your leader who will assume no trade or profession, but will read the
newspaper as will be explained.

All should sit before the leader, so there can be no mistake about
seeing each other.

When every person has settled her and his part, the leader takes up
any daily paper which is convenient and reads from it; but whenever
the leader pauses, and looks at a player, whether the pause and look
is intentional or accidental, the one looked at must at once make a
suitable remark about his profession, business or trade. There must not
be a second’s hesitation, and the more ridiculous such a remark may be,
the more amusement is gotten out of the game.

As soon as the player has concluded his observation, the leader
continues reading, the same as if his theme had not been interrupted,
and in a few seconds, pauses again, and looks at another player. Then
this player makes his remark instantaneously about his trade, and thus
the game goes on.

In order to better understand, suppose the leader reads, “This is
Bunker Hill Day. It is not a legal holiday, but by general consent the
banks and stores laid aside,” (here he looks at the dressmaker).

Dressmaker: “The big sleeves and wide skirts are not liked by
everybody.”

“The observance of the day by a—”

Marine Artist: “Sale of my painting ‘Off the Rocks at Scarborough.’”

“Is limited to Charlestown district, on one of whose hillslopes stood
the Middlesex farmers, the hayseed still in their—”

Butcher: “Marrow bones and spareribs.”

“And in their hands the guns that had been gaining reputation in the
shooting of—”

Grocer: “Eggs twenty-five cents a dozen.”

“And wild fowl. How they refused to budge before British regulars,
until they had fired all their—”

Confectioner: “Chocolate caramels packed in layers with waxed paper
between.”

“Away, and felt the pricks of the enemy’s polished—”

Ironmonger: “Poker and tongs, shovels and spades.”

“The world well knows Charlestown keeps up the remembrance of these—”

Florist: “Water-lily pads, and moss-rose buds.”

“At a lively rate.”

And so on reads the newspaper, making the proper pauses and glances,
until everybody has taken part and indeed over and over again taken
part. Care should be used as to the selection read, as some paragraphs
allow for much more amusement than do others.

When any player fails to at once make a suitable remark he must pay a
forfeit, which can only be redeemed by music or recitation.


THE NEW DIXEY’S LAND.

This is an out-of-door game, and may be played on the ground or on the
grass, marking the court or lawn with the same material as if arranging
a court for tennis.

Form a circle with a diameter of twelve feet, divide the circle into
quarters, each quarter representing a section of our country, east,
west, north, south, and should be so marked. One letter would represent
each word,—E, for east, W, for west, and so on. The oldest boy now
becomes the owner of the entire territory, and is named Dixey. This
boy must stand directly at the point where the lines unite, the middle
of the circle, and as soon as he is in position, any player may run
into any quarter of the ground. He must not stand on the line; should
he do so, and be tagged on that line, he can no longer play.

But having run into a quarter, he must loudly call, “Dixey, I’m on your
North land, now it belongs to me.” Or, “Dixey, I’m on your South land,”
etc. He must rightly name the section on which he stands.

Dixey must tag him before he is through stating words above given.
Should he fail to do so, the invading player must then run from the
part he has claimed, all around the outside of the circle, and then to
Dixey’s station, the centre. Dixey, of course, runs after him, trying
to tag him before he completes the circuit. Neither may take short cuts
by darting across lines, until the run around the circle is completed,
and the invader strikes in toward Dixey’s middle ground. Whoever gets
there first is now owner of all, and the original Dixey can only get
back by earning the position, as the new Dixey has just done.

The winner of the game is the one who has been Dixey the greatest
number of times, or should no one be Dixey but once, whoever holds the
position at the game’s close.

Therefore the necessity of deciding how long you will play before the
game commences.

Any number that can stand on a quarter, may be there at the same time,
as only one can be Dixey.

Dixey cannot save himself by failing to leave his post. The first call
he hears, he must obey, just as any other landowner would keep off an
intruder.

Every rule must be strictly obeyed. Should any one fail, he is no
longer a player.

The game is peculiarly adapted to boys, and each one must be careful
neither to be rough nor rude. In the straining to get ahead, it will be
such an easy thing to knock another boy down, or to prevent him from
reaching the goal. First, remember to be honest; second, to be polite.


BATTLE OF FLOWERS.

Why should not boys and girls take the lead in the popular _fête_? All
who own pony carts, phaetons, wagons of any sort, or who can borrow
them, may enter the parade and battle, and why not interest your Sunday
or day school in such an entertainment and secure a large float?

The designs for floats are innumerable; among them might be mentioned
Flora and the seasons, America, pagodas, chariots, Daughters of the
American Revolution, the Floral Queen. The teachers should have the
matter in charge, and one of them should act as chairman, and appoint
committees to attend to all the necessary business. The scholars should
willingly assist in the gathering of flowers, trimming, or whatever
would be required.

All the vehicles must be transformed into moving bowers, and this
necessitates considerable work, but it is work that pays; besides, the
real jolly boys and girls will only consider that they have had great
fun.

Decide on your decorations, and then gather flowers. You will need a
great many to make much show. And wire will be found helpful in making
the flowers stand upright, or giving the desired twist. Flowers may be
tied upon cord, and when a long rope is made, it can be wound around,
or fastened to the carriage, but it will take less time, and be less
hurtful to the hands, if you cut a piece of wire netting the desired
shape, and run the flower stems through the holes, or cut a piece
of soft muslin the correct shape, and baste the flowers on. Flowers
such as golden-rod, will need to have all the leaves stripped before
commencing to decorate. Wreaths the exact size of the wheel hubs will
look very handsome, particularly if the spokes are wound about with
satin ribbon the same color as the flowers. If you cover the reins, sew
two pieces of ribbon lengthwise, through which the reins will slip;
put full bows of the same on the harness, and cover the collar with
flowers. The same ribbon should also appear in the carriage decoration.

A very pretty effect is gotten from white hydrangeas and yellow satin
ribbons, or white hydrangeas tipped with pink and pink satin ribbons.
Violet-colored flowers look well in such a parade, and a stylish cut
carriage may be trimmed with ears and husks of corn, suspending the
ears by the husks. The costume of those inside the carriage must be
complementary to the decoration.

The streets through which you pass should look festive and the
spectators be dressed in holiday attire. A line of march must be
arranged, and, on the counter-march, the battle begins. Then roses and
flowers of all sorts are thrown from carriage to carriage, and from the
carriages to the people on the street, and from those on the street to
the carriages; indeed people throw them with both hands, so excited
they become.

Until it is time for the battle, have your baskets full of flowers
to throw well hidden. And when the pelting begins have a sufficient
supply, so that it will not be necessary to use any of the decorations.


GRACE HOOPS.

This game is usually played out of doors, but it may be played in large
rooms or conservatories, provided you put out of accident’s way all
the _bric-à-brac_, potted plants, and palms. Try the game also in an
enclosed veranda or sun-parlor, should the time appointed prove stormy,
or the grass be soggy from last night’s storm, or there be too high a
wind.

Grace hoops require a pole, not as tall as a maypole, but one smooth
at the top. The one we lately saw had been a noticeable balsam tree,
until cut off five feet from the ground. Its top was stocky, its side
branches as healthful and green appearing as ever, notwithstanding the
fact that they had been trimmed close enough to allow a small hoop to
easily fall over them.

The rings called grace hoops are made of light wood, not dissimilar to
embroidery rings, excepting that they are nearly two feet in diameter.
To make such a game very pretty, trim the hoops with wild flowers,
wintergreen berries or leaves. All the girls should wear gay frocks and
flower-dressed, broad-brimmed hats.

If you are playing the game in the spring, suggest spring flowers
and colors in your costume. A pretty effect would be gotten from a
violet-colored cloth, trimmed with purple velvet, with a glint of gold
revealed in the shoulder-bow ribbons and wide sash, the hat being a
deep yellow straw flat, massed with single violets. Arbutus, wild
roses, lilies of the valley, lilacs and cowslips, as, also, the new
green, are all suggestive of spring, and catchy lawn toilets.

Throw the grace hoops over the pole, and there let them hang until the
score has counted. You may each throw in turn, as often as has been
decided before the game opens. Each time the hoop hangs on the pole it
counts one.

Pretty silk badges may be lettered or gold-starred, to denote your
score, or you may use plain cardboard, and mark such with a lead
pencil. Between each round the score must be marked. After the last
round is played distribute rewards, which may assume any character you
please, but it is better to give wreaths of flowers, or crown the hero
with laurel. The wreath might go to the highest girl scorer, and the
laurel to the boy, or give each wreaths, or each bouquets.

A simple grace-hoop game is played by two people. Stand facing each
other, ten feet apart, and rapidly toss the hoop from one to the other,
catching it on sticks. Try and see how often you can keep it from
falling.


AN AMATEUR CIRCUS.

When so many young people are trained in athletic sports, calisthenics,
delsarte exercises, etc., why not form an amateur circus company?
Limit the number to twenty four, the girls and boys being equal or
unequal in number, as seems best. Such a company might easily arrange
an attractive entertainment, and invite their friends to an occasional
matinée performance, or, should they feel inclined, they could give a
performance as a charity benefit.

Musicians, tricksters, clowns, animals and a ring would be required.

The space for the ring would be the most difficult to obtain, but many
people have large shady grounds connected with their homes that it
would be a pleasure to lend to their young friends.

Outline a ring as you would mark a court, and make it sufficiently
large to comfortably give your exhibition. Do not attempt a tent.

Place the seats for your audience six feet back of the ring, as this
allows freedom for both performers and spectators. Keep an entrance to
the ring free, so that performers do not disarrange the seats.

As nearly as possible, copy the programme of the regular circus;
therefore, the first display should be the grand tournament and
triumphal _entrée_, when the entire company should march several times
around the ring. Every one should look fantastic; some of the girls
might go bareheaded, others wear wreaths of artificial flowers, and
again others wear jaunty caps, etc. Remember that fancy-colored paper,
muslin, gold paper, and spangles, will give showy effect. The clowns
should be either very thin or very stout. The thin ones may be made
stout by building themselves with cotton batting. A noticeable costume
for the clowns might be white muslin, showered with gold and silver
stars and spangles, or yellow muslin ornamented with silver or red full
moons, circles or polka dots. And their head covering might be white
beaver hats or fools’ caps.

Throughout the procession, carry numerous flags and banners. An
effective banner might be made of white canton flannel, showered with
diamond dust; indeed make the _entrée_ as gay as flowers, color and
spangles can produce.

The entire company should be active members, some of them being the
drum corps, others musicians; comic songs should be sung by the funny
clown, assisted by a chorus.

There should be walking and running matches, three-legged and sack
races, jumping, fancy tumbling, sensational feats of all sorts. There
could be a mimic football match, and a tennis tournament between those
who had never held a racket; indeed anything could be introduced that
would give genuine fun. The clowns should tell several jokes, and
laughable stories, ride pigs, cows, and make themselves generally
ridiculous.

Perhaps some of the company could borrow trained dogs or other trained
animals. If so, remember that tricks are always entertaining.


THE STILL HUNT.

Possibly some of the boys’ fathers have been still hunting, and if so
they fully understand that it means deer hunting without hounds.

The game still hunt differs from the real hunt in many ways, but
possibly the most important one is in the fact that the deer in this
case is only the form of a deer. It is better to play it out of doors,
but if you have a large enough room it may be played anywhere.

Whoever can draw best should be the individual to outline the deer, and
it must be drawn on the ground. The best ground is gravel, though, as
in the case of tennis, or other field games, the deer may be designed
on the grass.

The deer should be fully grown and have large antlers. After he is
distinctly drawn he must be surrounded by a circle, the line of which
measures four feet from the nearest point of the deer.

When the game is played out of doors, a smooth round stone about
the size of a walnut will be required; but when played inside use a
fifty-cent piece, or an old-fashioned cent. And for the indoor drawing
use chalk.

The deer circle being now ready, the girls and boys become hunters,
and state which part of the deer they want. Some will decide on the
antlers, because they will make a useful ornament, and they will have
them serve as a rack for a gun or umbrella. Others again want a hoof,
because it will make such a fine hunting-knife or paper-cutter handle,
and so each part of the deer is divided.

When everybody has selected their part, the tallest hunter takes his
stand, with his toes to the outer edge of the circle, and as far from
the part he selected as is possible. He then throws the stone. If it
rests on any part of the chosen place, he may count ten, but if the
stone stops outside of the part, he is marked down five. He then picks
up the stone, and hands it to the next player, who is the one next
to himself in height. Then this hunter takes his stand at the place
furthest from his selected part, and thus the game continues, until all
have played in turn. Then the first hunter takes another chance, and so
on again all follow. The one counting fifty first has won.

It is necessary to keep an accurate score, as the fives marked against
the hunters have to be deducted; indeed if great care is not used, a
hunter will be in debt, instead of earning his game. Therefore, the
best hunter is he who keeps _still_ and takes accurate aim. If he
fails at the first throwing, notice where the fault lies,—it may be
less force is required.

It is better to have an umpire; therefore select one before the game
begins, and remember to pleasantly abide by his decision.

The stone must be altogether on, to be counted on, and in the case of
the antlers the stone must touch some of the antler points.


LAWN GOLF.

This is played somewhat like croquet, only twenty-five wickets are
used, instead of nine, and they are placed one after another, all
around the ground. Beyond each wicket is a small hole, large enough for
the ball to enter, and the game is to send the ball through the wicket
and into the hole at one shot. When a player fails to do this, he may
be allowed three shots to an inning.

Before commencing the game, state the time it will be played.

Decide who is to lead by shooting an arrow from a selected point.
Whoever throws the farthest is to go first, the others follow,
according to the distance made. In considering space, measure the
distance between the starting place and the arrow’s sharp end.

If you want a famous good time give a Lawn Golf Party.

When you do so trim the handles of your golf sticks with gay-colored
ribbons, and at the game’s close, give the champions paper-flower
rewards.

Exquisite flowers may nowadays be made out of paper, and the making of
such afford only pleasure. Roses of all shades are fetching, so also
are violets, and some varieties of lilies. Every one who lives in a
large city will at once know where to get materials and instruction,
and one girl can readily teach another. Those who live in the country
or small villages, surely have some kind city friend who can select and
send materials, and possibly written directions about the making.

After presenting the rewards, have supper on the lawn, and afterwards
other games are in order.



GROWN-UPS.


ALPHABETICAL GEOGRAPHY.

Give every one in the room a number. And when you call for a number
announce a letter of the alphabet. The person called must, before you
count six, apply the letter to the name of a place and to two things he
might see there.

For example:

No. 1. Y.

I am going to York to see Youngsters and Yachts.

No. 2. B.

I am going to Baltimore to see Belles and Beaux.


COMPOSITION.

Arrange for it beforehand, and therefore have the requisite slips of
paper, and nicely sharpened lead pencils ready for all, but if you
are not ready there is a certain satisfaction in knowing that part of
the amusement may be in the preparation. In the latter case, have a
competition as to who will make the sharpest points on the pencils, or
cut the papers the most accurately; when all is prepared, however, give
slips of paper and lead pencils to your friends, and ask them to write
the words you will name. State that they will have fifteen minutes in
which to write a composition, and put into the same every word you
have mentioned. No one can look over his neighbor’s paper, and each
composition must be signed with the writer’s full name.

When the time has expired, all the compositions are collected and read
aloud, votes are taken as to which is the best, and the individual
having received the highest number of votes is entitled to a prize.

Example: Wreath, Mausoleum, suicide, farewell, another, conjointly,
starred, huntsman’s song, early, queen, historical, many, dramas.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson, was for _many_ years Poet Laureate. He wrote
several poems, descriptive, _historical_, national and otherwise. He
also wrote three notable _dramas_, one called Becket, known as Thomas
à Becket, Chancellor of England, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury,
_another_ called _Queen_ Mary, the ill-_starred_ daughter of Henry the
Eighth, and Harold, who was Earl of Wessex, afterwards King of England.

_Early_ in life Tennyson wrote several poems, _conjointly_ with his
brother Charles. Among these were the _Huntsman’s Song_, The Grave of a
_Suicide_, The Fall of Jerusalem, and the Bard’s _Farewell_.

Tennyson’s monument is in that great English _mausoleum_, Westminster
Abbey. On the dark stone slab, the visitor may frequently see a
_wreath_ of laurel, so placed in grateful memory.

As this game would oftener than otherwise be played informally, the
matter of prizes cannot be too simple. If you are in the birch-bark
section, why not make a bookmark or a napkin ring out of the bark?
Should you be at the seashore make a nest of shells. For example, find
a large mussel shell, and next to it put one a size smaller, and so
on fit in the others, graduating them evenly, the top one being very
small. Or give a curious shell, which may be used as an ornament or
receptacle.


INITIAL PLATTER TWIRLING.

This is very amusing, but the players must be on the alert or they will
surely be caught.

Before the game commences, every player must tell the initials of his
and her name, and to aid memory, slips of paper may be given, on which
each one may write his initials.

When the sentence is called by the person twirling the platter, all
the company must eagerly listen, or else the platter will fall to the
floor before the one who should have run for it, recognizes he is the
one called. If the platter is not caught by the proper person before it
ceases to whirl, he or she must exchange places with the one who has
whirled the platter. As the sentences are impromptu, they are apt to
be absurd and ridiculous, but in any case they should be correct, or
the one making the error must give a forfeit. Each sentence must have
as many words as the initials of the one called, and each word must
commence with the right letter. Example: Frank Fraser Phillips might
be called French Fried Potatoes. Or Janet Belle Roberts might be June
Brings Roses.

This game should cause much merriment. It quickens thought and
language, and it is suitable to all ages,—the boys and the girls, or
their fathers and mothers.


OVER, OVER, WHOSE HEAD IS IT OVER?

This is a clever trick, and it requires two persons. The idea is for
the confederate out of the room to correctly name the individual over
whose head the other person is holding a wand.

A person takes a cane, which he carelessly points toward some one;
while so doing he is cleverly explaining what he is about to do, asking
people to move, in order to further mystify, etc. The confederate
notes where the cane is pointing, then goes from the room, and the one
holding the wand puts it over several heads, saying “Over,” which the
confederate echoes, until finally the question comes, when the wand is
over the person before surreptitiously pointed out, “Whose head is it
over?” The confederate’s answer is naturally correct.


TEAKETTLE.

This may be played by a number of people.

A noun which has two or more meanings is selected. One may be thought
of by any of the players, and in describing the same he should use
the word “teakettle” instead of the proper name. All meanings of the
word must be explained, but not too clearly at the first, else the
“teakettle” will be at once guessed. When any of the listeners think
they have discovered the word, instead of naming it, he should ask a
question regarding the “teakettle” which would indicate to the one
describing the same, whether the interrogator was correct. If correct,
he too joins in the description, and throws light on the word. This
should be continued until all the company show by their conversation
that they know the noun selected. Not infrequently it is necessary to
talk very plainly, or throw “electric light” on the teakettle before it
is guessed.

Example: The teakettle I have in my mind, has been from the creation
of the world, and will continue until the world ends. It is also
peculiar in being of the most service during the winter, and forms
a distinguished position in the homes of all American households at
Thanksgiving dinners. My teakettle is cultivated on the farm of many
a plain countryman, but graces the table of many a fastidious city
millionaire, and the longer it lasts, the shorter it grows. Already
somebody is sure they know the word, and says, “Your teakettle may be
squandered, may it not?” and another asks, “Wasn’t it Queen Elizabeth
who would have given her crown for a diminutive teakettle?” And yet
another asks, “Is it not savory, and of great assistance to the poultry
cook?” And thus light is thrown, until the teakettle in question is
known to be another name for _thyme_, and _time_.


AUTHORS.

This is a popular game for students young or old.

Some one who understands should have charge.

Give each person the same sized piece of writing paper and a lead
pencil. On the piece of paper he must write a familiar quotation,
and then pass it to his left-hand neighbor. The one who receives it
must add the author’s name, and also his own. If he does not know the
author, he must write underneath the quotation the word “Unknown,” and
his own name.

Five minutes are allowed in which to write a quotation, and three
minutes to affix the name of the author, and the signature of the
writer. The papers are then collected by the person in charge, who will
then proceed to read aloud the quotations, authors, and signatures.

All persons unable to write a quotation must pay a forfeit. All unable
to transcribe the name of the author, must also pay a forfeit.

Should there be a dispute regarding an author, the one in charge must
decide.

Example:

    Bottles and blisters, powders and pills,
    Catnip, boneset syrup and squills;
    Drugs and medicines, high and low,
    I throw them as far as I can throw
                            WILL CARLETON
                            GEORGE JONES.


AUTHORS.

No. 2.

The hostess should form a ring with herself in the centre, and to make
it more comfortable all should have chairs. Number each person, naming
yourself last. Number one repeats a quotation, Number two tells the
author, Number three gives another quotation, and Number four gives
the author, and so on. The person in charge, who is the one in the
centre of the ring, keeps the game under proper control and time. No
longer than ten seconds should be allowed for each person to respond.
Every wrong guess of an author demands a forfeit. Surely, every one can
give a quotation.

Example:

No. 1, gives,

    Old Mother Hubbard
    Went to the cupboard.

No. 2, Mother Goose.

No. 3,

    Between the dark and the daylight,
    When the night is beginning to lower.

No. 4, Longfellow.

No. 5,

    Not a lord in all the country
    Is so great a lord as he.

No. 6, Tennyson.


GHOST.

This is a spelling game. A person gives a letter, not necessarily
having any particular word in mind, his next neighbor must think of a
word beginning with this letter, and then say the second letter, the
third person must think of a word using the two letters previously
given, and add the third and so on, to the end of the word. A person is
not a ghost until he is four times caught.

The penalties are to be challenged rightfully, to challenge wrongfully,
or to complete a word. The challenging consists in doubting a letter
which a player has given. A player may say, “I challenge you,” when a
person has added a letter, if he feels sure there is no word spelled
in that order. If rightfully challenged, the speaker has one penalty
against him as ghost. If, on the contrary, he gives the word which he
had in his mind, as he is bound to do when challenged, the challenger
is one-fourth of a ghost.

Every word finished makes one-fourth of a ghost, but it is proper to
add a letter and thus form a new syllable. If a syllable of a word is
a complete word in itself, the one pronouncing the last letter has
incurred the penalty. For example, take the word revelry. R-e-v-e have
been given, and unless the fifth player can think of n, and change it
to revenue, or some other word, he must say l, and thus the word ends.

Whoever is ghost has to keep absolute silence throughout the game.


CELEBRATED AUTHORS.

One member of the company should leave the room, while those who remain
determine what celebrated author he is to represent.

On his return, he must in all respects be treated as that author
would be were he the guest of the evening. He must be entertained by
conversation and questions which would be of interest. Neither the
conversation nor the questions may be misleading, but on the contrary
helpful to the discovery of himself. He may be Shakespeare or Kirk
Monroe, or if a girl she may be Lucy Larcom or Mary E. Wilkins.

Suppose Shakespeare is the distinguished guest. Of course all polite
people would rise to receive him, and the hostess would offer him the
most comfortable chair; every one’s manner would indicate that they
were in the presence of greatness.

The conversation would naturally be of England and the changes that had
come to her within the last three hundred years. That the town in which
he was born had changed greatly; that the streets once so full of mud
and refuse were now not only clean and tidy but almost uncomfortable
with too great cleanliness and neatness. That the town owned a very
pretty theatre, ornamented with statues of heroes and heroines. That a
fine drinking fountain had lately been put there by a philanthropic
visitor from Philadelphia, now dead. That the townspeople had been
known to express their delight over the fact that he had been so
obliging as to be born there.

He might be asked how he liked Queen Elizabeth, and if it was true she
was as fond of him as had been expressed, and if so why didn’t he write
something In Memoriam of her?

If the company discovers that the person who is personating Shakespeare
is not able, after a few minutes of opportunity, to guess who he
is, they should then throw on more light, by either asking him more
prominent questions, or in connection with each other indicate more
clearly. Ask some such question as, How far was the Mermaid Tavern from
the home of John Milton? and, Did you meet Ben Jonson there? or did you
call for each other and go and dine together?

There is great difference of opinion as to the correct way to spell
your name. In the register which marks your birth, we noticed in
reading the surname, that the letter E was left out of the first
syllable. Do you put it in the last syllable, or is it out of that
also? Did the boys ever call you Bill? Isn’t Warwickshire beautiful?
What do you think of the river Avon? In what year did Bacon write
Hamlet?

Of course, by this time, the celebrated Author would be guessed and
some one else would leave the room, another Author be selected, and the
game proceed as before.


THE ARSENAL.

The players must be seated in a circle, with the understanding that
whoever smiles must pay a forfeit. No. 1 turns to his neighbor on the
left and sings, while nodding his head,

    Are you going to the Arsenal, the Arsenal,
    And see the animals in Central Park?

The person addressed replies in the same tune, nodding,

    Yes, I’m going to the Arsenal, the Arsenal,
    And see the animals in Central Park.

Then both sing and nod,

    Two of us are going to the Arsenal, the Arsenal,
    And see the animals in Central Park,

No. 2 then turns to No 3, nodding and singing the same question, who
replies in the same way, only singing,

    Three of us are going to the Arsenal, the Arsenal,
    And see the animals in Central Park.

And so complete the circle, the chorus being added to by one or more
each time.


MAGICAL READING.

Ask your audience to be seated, while you talk for a few minutes on the
wonders of occult science. Having mystified them as much as possible,
you arouse their curiosity by announcing that you are now prepared to
state whatever they may choose to draw or write, provided the sentence
is a short one, by pressing the words or picture against your forehead,
instead of reading with the eye.

You then distribute lead pencils, and equal sized slips of paper to
all who wish to try, and take your seat at a table, on which you put a
work-basket, with the request that when they are finished, they will
fold the papers over once and then drop them in the basket.

When this is done you draw out any paper you may first touch; unfolding
it so that you cannot read, you press it against your forehead, being
careful to cover the entire paper with the fingers of each hand, which
touch each other. You must explain that this contact is necessary for
your revelation. After some minutes spent in thought, you read it and
immediately draw another paper, laying each one before you, behind the
basket.

The trick is simple, and consists in reading any word or sentence which
may first occur to you, for the first paper, but reading the words
thereon, or noting the picture when you lay it behind the basket. The
picture or words on the first paper are read for the second, the second
read for the third, and so on, until the last one has been pressed to
the forehead, in removing which it is hidden by being crushed in the
hand, or in whichever way may prove the easiest at the time, as the
last paper is a necessity to make up for the one you falsely read.

It is not often that this trick is detected, unless it is bunglingly
shown, and for that there is no excuse, as it is ridiculous to exhibit
magic without long and careful practice.

Always change as much as possible the method of exhibition and never
show this feat twice in one evening. Remember that diversion is an
important feature in all magical entertainment; therefore you should
be a capital story-teller, have a fund of funny stories on which you
call at a moment’s need, for the attention of your friends must be
constantly turned from your nervousness.

Every one understands that they are being deceived. You must be a
clever magician or they will discover how.


LAUGHABLE RHYMES.

This game may amuse any number, if those playing will each pleasantly
do their part.

The company should be seated in a circle and the one in charge repeats
from memory, reads from a book, or makes up a line of poetry. The
individual to whom he addresses it, must add a line of the same rhyme
and sense.

When the director has given his line, he runs three times around the
outside of the circle, or he may spin a large tin platter. The second
line of poetry _must_ be added before he completes his third round
of the circle, or before the platter has ceased to spin. Should the
line fail to be given in time, the one to give it must pay a forfeit.
The director then gives another line to another person, the game thus
continuing until all have taken part, or the players desire a change.

The director may change any time with any one of the company. Poetry of
merit is not expected.

Examples:

Director, (giving a line),

“Miss Beecher’s class came down the street.”

Answer.

“And every one looked perfectly sweet.”

Director,

“Ring, ring, rosy,”

Answer,

“I’m your Josy.”

Director,

“I wandered by the brook-side.”

Answer,

“I saw you on my morning ride.”

Another way of playing laughable rhymes, is to give each one of the
company a piece of paper and a pencil. Each paper has a verse written
on it of the same number of lines in length. But these lines are
incomplete, as each line is minus one word. This word may be the last
one of a line, or it may be any of the others. Five minutes is a fair
time to allow for the completion of these rhymes. Then the papers
should be collected and read aloud, the reader indicating the supplied
words. All failing to complete their verses within the time allowed
must pay a forfeit.

Examples:

    “It fell of      itself
    The lazy        ball
    And you needn’t tell      me
    I let it   fall
    Perhaps it was      tired
    Like me and        you
    And wanted to        rest
    A minute or        two.”

Supplied word in parentheses above

             (you)
    “What do       think
               (don’t)
    I’m sure I         know.
         (tell)
    Don’t      anybody
            (oh)
    Oh, no!      no!
            (told)
    Somebody      me
                 (else)
    That some one      said
                  (told)
    That so and so      them
                  (what)
    You won’t tell      I said?”

For older people, try and pique their memories; therefore some familiar
poem should be selected, or some sonnet of Shakspeare.

    “On either side the river      lie
    Long fields of barley and of      rye
    That clothe the world and meet the    sky;
    And thro’ the field the road runs      by
        To many tower’d      Camelot;
    And up and down the people      go
    Gazing where the lilies      blow
    Round an island there      below,
        The island of      Shalott.”

                               (for)
    “So oft have I invoked thee      my Muse
                                  (in)
    And found such fair assistance      my verse
                            (got)
    As every alien pen hath      my use
                  (their)
    And under thee       poesy disperse.
                                    (on)
    Thine eyes that taught the dumb      high to sing,
                       (aloft)
    And heavy ignorance       to fly,
                           (the)
    Have added feathers to      learned’s wing
                     (double)
    And given grace a        majesty.
                             (which)
    Yet be most proud of that      I compile,
                                (born)
    Whose influence is thine and      of thee:
                                  (mend)
    In others’ works thou dost but      the style,
                           (graces)
    And arts with thy sweet        gracèd be;
                            (and)
    But thou art all my art      dost advance
                        (my)
    As high as learning      rude ignorance.”


MAKING A DICTIONARY.

This game is more suitable for scholars; those who have made a study of
biography and definition. It is readily divided in two parts, and each
part may be played separately, but it is more satisfactory to unite
them. The first part is to guess who is personated, and the second is
to write definitions. If everybody understands or is studying French
it would be a change to personate a Frenchman, and, in like manner, if
every player understands or is studying German, personate a German,
perhaps some author, whose book is authority in school.

The leader of the game commences by stating, “I have compiled a
dictionary,” and if he is personating a German, before proceeding
further he must give that clue. Example: “Ever since the appearance
of the vocabulary to my German Reader in 1870, I have been receiving,
from various quarters, suggestions and solicitations of a more general
German dictionary, to be constructed upon the same plan.” And if he is
personating a Frenchman he must be equally helpful.

After this the leader is silent until asked questions, which he must
correctly answer. Should he be representing the notable Noah Webster,
the following would readily discover him.

“Were you born in the United States?”

“Yes.”

“Were you born in the South?”

“No.”

“In the East?”

“Yes.”

“Are you living?”

“No.”

“Were you very old when you died?”

“Yes, in my eighty-fifth year.”

“What college did you attend?”

“Yale.”

“What was your father’s business?”

“He was a farmer and justice of the peace.”

“Tell me about your mother.”

“She was a descendant of William Bradford, the second Governor of
Plymouth Colony.”

“Were you married?”

“Yes.”

“How many children had you?”

“Six; one son and five daughters.”

By this time any player knowing the biography of Mr. Webster would have
guessed him.

The leader now distributes to each person equal sized pieces of paper,
on which the same and several words have been written. He also gives
them lead pencils. The test is to write the best definitions for these
words, which, if honestly done, is without consultation. A minute is
allowed for each word, and the papers being signed are then collected,
and by the leader read to the audience. With a dictionary for reference
there will be no dispute as to who has won.

Test words should be common ones, as they are much more difficult
to define. For instance, Defy,—a challenge. Fortieth,—following the
thirty-ninth, or preceded by thirty-nine units, things or parts,
the quotient of a unit divided by forty. To-morrow,—a day after the
present. Wrist,—the joint connecting the hand with the arm. Rather than
such as Homing Home,—used specifically of carrier pigeons. Subpœna,—a
summons for witnesses. Xanthine,—yellow dyeing matter in certain plants
and flowers. Islamism,—the Mohammedan religion.

This game played with the right people, will give a delightful evening.


DESERT ISLAND.

Make believe that you have heard of people living on a desert island,
on which there is absolutely nothing for their comfort or enjoyment.

Distribute an equal number of pieces of wood, and ask your guests to
cut out utensils for cooking, furniture, etc. Or give papers, and let
each in the game draw articles, or take the papers and fold to shape
articles. A limit of time must be named, and in the end, whoever has
made or drawn or folded the greatest number of recognizable articles
has won the game.


THE BUTTERFLY TEST.

Cut white writing paper in uniform size—eight in width by ten in
length. Have as many pieces of paper as the number of painters, also
several extra ones, as undoubtedly the butterfly makers would want to
try again and yet again. One palette would suffice for a large company,
for every one likes to watch the development of his neighbor’s work,
almost as much as he does his own. But, of course, more palettes may
be used if desired. Oil paints of divers colors must be placed on
the palette, having a larger amount of the yellow paint than of any
of the others, for not only are there more yellow butterflies, but
yellow often conspicuously appears in almost every butterfly. As many
palette-knives will be required as palettes. Brushes are not needed.

Put one butterfly on one piece of paper only. Fold the paper you use
exactly in half, creasing it the longest way, thus giving it the
appearance of an ordinary sheet of letter paper. This done, take the
palette-knife and on its point and edge gather a little of the paint,
putting the knife into the different portions, and so getting the
colors which you desire. It is better to allow the paint to extend
about half to two-thirds of an inch along the inside edge of the knife.
All the paint you would need would not more than cover a five-cent
nickel.

When the paint is on the palette-knife, open your sheet of paper, and
in the exact centre of the inside crease, put the paint. This is done
by putting the edge of the point of the knife directly in the crease,
and pressing downward, and also a trifle towards the right.

Be satisfied with whatever leaves the knife the first time. Do not
attempt to pick the paint off, or stick more on. Then carefully remove
all paint from the palette-knife. For this you will need a small piece
of soft cotton cloth. Where many people are at work several cloths
should be in readiness.

The palette-knife now being clean, fold the paper over in the crease
first made, being careful that you have folded it even, otherwise,
the wings of the butterfly would be out of proportion, one being
higher than the other. When the paper is folded you will distinctly
see the blotch inside, and in this press heavily with the end of the
palette-knife, starting at the crease and form an upward long arch,
then press again from the centre towards the right, and arch in the
same way, only proportionately shorter. The two arches should meet.

When you have pressed over and over again on the same places, and find
that it is impossible to further spread your paint, open the sheet
of paper, and inside you will see a butterfly delicately tinted and
veined, his wings full spread as if to alight on a white clover, or
other sweet-scented wild flower. In pressing out the paint you can more
fully control the palette-knife, as well as protect the paper, if you
put your fingers close to the paint. Sometimes a perfect butterfly is
thus made the first time, but with a little practice any one may make
butterflies as they will.

Before painting commences, each artist should draw from a receptacle a
small paper, which will bear a number. This paper must be held until
the prize is given, as an inexpensive prize would better be awarded to
the one painting the most natural butterfly.

When the one in charge calls a number, the one having it at once goes
forward and paints a butterfly on a paper bearing the same number as
the one he drew. No matter how many butterflies this individual may
paint, each paper on which the painting is done must bear the number
drawn. As each butterfly is painted it is placed on the top of a large
table. When all are through painting, the judge who has hitherto
not been in the room, examines all of the butterflies, and decides
according to number who is entitled to the prize. Example, No. 23.

Should there be two or more equally well done, those who painted them
must each try again. The best of these is then awarded the prize.


A SKATING PARTY.

All taking part should be in costume. The costumes may relate to a
special anniversary, such as Lincoln’s or Washington’s Birthday, or a
St. Valentine revel. They may also be simply fantastic or pretty, or
they may recall the old Knickerbocker days.

The _fête_ would have to be under the direction of patronesses. To
their decision is left the programme, time, place, etc. Suppose for
example, it is Washington’s Birthday night, some one of the number
should represent General Washington. Other characters should be
prominent Revolutionary heroes, as John Hancock, General Gates, General
Lafayette, etc. Then, too, Mary and Martha Washington should be on
skates, and Betty Washington, George Washington’s sister, and other
notable women of the Declaration of Independence period. But besides
these, there should be Clowns and Dumpies.


PROGRAMME.

Cornet solo, followed by bugle call. Enter General Washington on
skates, followed by two valets.

Fifteen minutes of general skating in costume.

A sleigh race between the most prominent generals, and their wives.

Fifteen minutes of general skating in costume.

A musical match between the clowns and dumpies.

Fifteen minutes of general skating in costume.

Then all skate, the onlookers and those taking part, General Washington
leading.



SPECIAL FÊTES.


LINCOLN’S BIRTHDAY AMUSEMENTS.

Give a sleighing party. Start immediately after a mid-day dinner and
get home before the sun sets.

Every one should attach a knot of tri-colored ribbon to his coat or
jacket. The horses, sleighs and whips must be decked with flags and
streamers.

When on the road sing songs of freedom. “John Brown’s body lies
mouldering in the grave.” “In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born
across the sea,” etc.

Have a snowball game. Choose sides and decide who can pitch the
farthest.

Balance a snowball on the end of a cane, and note which boy can longest
keep it from falling.

Try a snowshoe race by picked players.

Make an immense snowball. When it can be made no larger, let three
persons stand on the top. The tallest should stand in the centre and
wave the flag. One of the party should take a snap shot at that moment,
for future amusement.

Arrange a skating party the day before, and test each one’s skill on
the ice—who can skate the most rapidly,—who can exhibit the most
figures, etc.

Give an up-to-date military tournament on skates. Example, America and
Spain.

       *       *       *       *       *

If there is neither snow, nor ice, have a bicycle match. Trim the
bicycle with red, white and blue. Each rider should wear the same
colors. The match may be simply a question of speed. In that case be
careful to indicate the distance. Competent judges should witness the
start and close of the race.

All difficult questions must be decided by an umpire.


ST. VALENTINE GAMES.

_A Valentine Hunt._

This should be given early in the evening, as it removes shyness and
establishes good fellowship.

Hide as many small valentines as there are children, and give five
minutes to hunt for them. Those finding more than one should put the
extra ones on a table, and the children not finding any are then
blindfolded and allowed to draw one each.

_Rose Guess._

Present a large rose and let each child guess how many petals it
contains. When all have guessed, pick the petals off, counting them as
they fall. The nearest guesser receives a prize. An appropriate prize
would be a bonbon box filled with candied rose leaves.

_Rose Bowl Game._

Put on a small table, a mat of pink crinkled tissue paper, and in the
centre stand a cut-glass rose-bowl. The bowl should be covered with
huge pink rose petals, made of paper, inverted as though the rose were
held in the bowl, the petals all meeting in the green calyx, which
covers the opening of the bowl. Through the calyx, narrow green ribbons
representing rose stems should appear. Each child, at a signal, should
come to the table and draw one of the “stems.” On the end of each
will be found a pink candy heart, and to one of these hearts will be
fastened a tiny love-knot ring.

_The Walnut’s Fortune._

Open a quantity of walnuts in half. Into each walnut slip a narrow
piece of paper which will predict the future. Slip a small elastic over
each nut, which will prevent them from reopening. The boys’ walnuts
should be put in one basket, and the girls’ in another. The girls’
basket should be offered first. As each girl holds her hand over the
basket she should repeat:

    “Steady, good fairy, I am wary,
     Pray let my hand make no mistake;
     I would only the right nut take.”

Then she puts her hand down, lifts up a nut, removes the elastic, and
taking out the paper, reads her future aloud. Example, “You will travel
around the world. At the age of twenty-three you will sing before two
thousand people.” And thus the future is predicted in similar style for
other players.

_Naming the Roses._

All the young people should personate favorite roses. Therefore, there
should be many varieties. The parlors should have arches or wide
doorways, through which a procession may readily move.

The musicians are advised to play something between a march and a reel,
and immediately each boy signals out the girl that matches his rose.
If more than one match, he asks the girl he prefers. Then, all keeping
time to the music, they walk through the first arch or doorway, and
so on to the second, thus in rotation going through all. The couples
should keep about two feet back of each other.

When all have passed through the last arch, they join hands, thus
forming a circle, and commencing with the first couple, enter the ring
two by two. Two only being in at a time, when they come out, the two
that followed them in the march enter, and so on. When in the circle
the boy should ask the girl, “Which rose are you?” She answers, “Tell
me, and I’ll tell you.” Very often his answer will be, “I don’t know,”
though once in a while he will make a perfect guess. When his answer is
right, he asks the girl the language of her rose; but if he has made a
mistake, he is obliged to leave the girl in the ring, and stand under
one of the arches. If the girl cannot answer his question, she must
stand under an arch. If the boy leaves the ring before inquiring the
rose’s language, those forming the ring put the same question, and if
the girl does not properly reply, she has to pay the same penalty as
when not replying to the boy.

When both questions are answered correctly, the boy and girl again join
the hands of the others forming the circle. When each couple has been
in and left the ring the game is concluded.

Among the rosebuds and their meaning are: White rose-bud, girlhood; red
rose-bud, loveliness; white and red together, unity.


_Memory._

Put a small table behind a screen. On this table place thirty different
articles, including pulverized spices, small bottles of liquid, books,
etc. Each player is allowed ten seconds in which to familiarize himself
or herself with the things on the table. Then each person writes a list
of the things, titles of books, etc., from memory. The boy and girl
whose lists are nearest perfection receive valentines as prizes.


_Love Box._

Present a pink silk bag to each of the young ladies, and ask them to
take out what they first touch. Each will then draw a small pink box,
inside of which will be her fortune written on ordinary sized note
paper.

When the young ladies have finished drawing, pass a red silk bag,
filled with red boxes of a similar size, to the young men. Each paper
in the pink boxes should be numbered one, two, etc. and the same with
the red. The following are the examples of the fortunes.


    Whereso’er I am, below or else above you,
    Whereso’er you are, my heart shall truly love you.
                My name is John.

        You will married be
        At the age of thirty-eight,
        Or else I’ve made a mistake,
        And the date is far too late.

        Now you must guess my name
        Or this fortune’s very tame.

Or ask questions, to be followed with appropriate answers.

“Shall I marry Sue?”

“There’s a rival in the case. A very rich and stupid fellow.”


_The Prophetic Rose._

In an archway hang a huge rose made of tissue-paper of a deep red
color, the petals being dark at the centre. The players are told that
the darker petals belong to the boys, and the girls should visit
the rose first. Each girl in turn should step toward the rose, and
break off a petal. On the reverse side she may read her fortune; for
delicately pasted to the rose petal will be a white one, and on this
the girls fortune will be written. Everybody reads their fortune aloud,
for all are as interested to learn the future of their friends as their
own. When the girls finish, the boys follow in a similar way. Some of
the fortunes might be:

“Thou drawest a perfect lot.”

“You will be wondrous happy.”

“Mistress of the Manse.”

“A curate—never slack in duty.”


_Make a Valentine._

This will create much merriment and prove equally suitable for
grown-ups or boys and girls.

Before the guests arrive, have ready even-sized pieces of water-color
paper. The hostess should distribute these and explain just what
should be done. Have water-color paints, brushes, etc., conveniently
near every one, also a few well-sharpened lead-pencils might not prove
amiss. Either have the people seated at one long table or at several
small ones, as would be convenient. Ring a bell when it is time to
commence. In thirty minutes ring again, when all must stop.

As the designs should be original, no one must look over his neighbor’s
shoulder. The fact that some would not know how to paint would have
nothing to do with it, as the entertainment is only a bit of fun and
every one should do his part. Valentines allow of such diversity in
decoration, from the extreme of the grotesque to the æsthetic and
beautiful, that every one should be glad to try. Remember, a line of
prose or verse would be an added compliment. For instance,

    Prithee tell me, Dimple chin,
    At what age does love begin?

might be written under the dainty portrait of some winsome wee thing;
or,

    My love is like a red, red rose,

might be added to the picture of a flaming red cabbage rose.

When the valentines are finished they should be numbered, each painter
retaining his number on a slip of paper. This done, gather the
valentines and submit them to the judgment of three people to decide
as to their merit. The painter of the best valentine should receive a
prize.

Then jumble together slips of paper on which are written numbers
corresponding to the numbers of the valentines. Let each guest draw a
slip, and present him or her with the corresponding valentine, which
may be retained as a souvenir.


_The Court of the King of Hearts._

Decide who will be king. He may get his costume from a costumer’s or
wear a home-made robe of gold color, decorated all over with hearts
cut out of crimson velvet, six inches long and in correct proportion.
He should wear a gold crown ornamented with Rhine stones, and carry a
sceptre. There should be a throne, which may be a large chair placed on
a raised platform. The throne and platform should be covered with gold
paper, sprinkled with diamond dust.

All the decorations should suggest St. Valentine’s evening. Therefore,
pink or rose should be the color effect, and such devices as Cupid’s
arrows, hearts, valentines should appear. Ask the young ladies to gown
themselves to represent roses. Therefore some would wear pink; others,
white, etc. The gowns might further suggest the scheme by being trimmed
with roses. The young gentlemen should wear rose boutonnières.

All the guests compose the court.

The entertainment may be opened by the minuet, danced by red and white
roses, after which the entire court enter, marching two by two. As they
march they sing in honor of their king. When the first couple reaches
the throne, the leaders separate right and left and turn facing each
other. The others do likewise, keeping the distance between regular.
Last of all comes the king followed by two pages representing Cupids.
The king marches between the columns, and finally reaches his throne.
When there he looks smilingly over his court, and then seats himself.
The pages stand to his right and left.

Then the court, at a motion of the king’s sceptre, waltz, after which
the entire evening is spent amusing the king. He likes songs, and they
become Singing Roses. He likes recitations, and the roses recite. All
the songs and recitations must be of the heart. Among the recitations
may be “The Garden of Love,” William Shakspeare; “The Day-Dream,”
Alfred Tennyson; “Telepathy,” James Russell Lowell.

At the close of a song the king rises, and waving his wand, the company
cease entertaining, and the Cupids, leaving the throne, walk side by
side, and finally stop at a huge blackboard. Then in colored crayons
they each draw a valentine. After which the King of Hearts asks each
one of the company to do likewise. This affords much amusement, as many
of the valentines will be exceedingly grotesque.

When all have finished drawing, the Cupids return to the throne, and
the king signals for a dance. And now a surprise. Eight dancers appear
in heart and valentine dominoes. Each heart dances with a valentine,
and thus the king continues to be amused. The first eight who have
drawn valentines quietly absent themselves, and thus they are ready at
the desired time. The dominoes are made out of white cheese-cloth, the
valentines and hearts are basted thickly over them.

After the dance the king should rise and thank the court for what has
been done for his entertainment, after which the recession of the court
should follow. The columns leading to the throne must be again formed,
the king rises, and proceeds through the lines followed by his pages,
and then the two nearest to the throne go next, and so on until all
disappear.


WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY ENTERTAINMENT.

If the hostess is a girl, she should be costumed as Lady Washington;
if she has a brother, his dress should be a faithful copy of General
Washington’s. The mother of the young people may take the character
of Mary Washington, mother of George. Ask your friends to wear an
appropriate costume excepting that of the Washington household; that
family excluded, they are fancy free. Decorate the house with flags
and bunting; also give an eagle prominent position. For evergreens use
holly, and whatever flowers may be peculiar to the State of Virginia.
Suggest red, white, and blue in the supper-room. Example: Cover the
dining-table with blue silk or bunting, and on it stand cakes frosted
with red and white icing, mottoes in red and white papers, etc.
Serve strawberry and vanilla ice-cream in blue dishes. Have all the
confectionery red and white in color, and served from a blue-covered
stand. Should you not have blue china suitable for the confectionery,
deftly cover white china with blue crinkled paper, and so preserve the
colors.

Open the evening with the flag dance. This is any square dance you may
please. Immediately before it starts, present the dancers with a tiny
American flag, and whenever a bow occurs, let the flags be triumphantly
whirled. They may be retained as souvenirs. After the dance some one
previously selected should come into the parlor. He must be entirely
enveloped in tricolor, which may be done by the use of a large flag,
and if necessary a smaller one may cover the head. The question now is
to guess, Who is this distinguished visitor? whether it is some one
of the Revolutionary period or of the present, of our own country, or
of another. When the domino is removed, across his chest will be his
name. It is George the Third, who did not feel very comfortable at
the time of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. He should
wear a crown, which is easily made from pasteboard, cover it with gold
paper, and for precious stones glue on rounded buttons covered to suit
whichever gem you may please-jasper, sapphire, diamonds, or what not.
Whoever makes a correct guess should receive a gift suggestive of the
occasion. A book about a Revolutionary hero would do, or any article of
jewelry, suggestive of Washington’s time. There are stickpins which may
be used for scarfs also, that have the flag in colored enamel. After
this, another dance would be in place, and follow that with games and
patriotic songs.

“The Star-Spangled Banner,” in march time, would be appropriate to use
as the march to supper.


APRIL FOOL GAMES AND TRICKS.

It is always a question whether these games should or should not be
played. Therefore I offer them with this preface as also a few words
of advice. Be good natured and do not take offence over other people’s
amusement at your expense.

Never play a practical joke.

Example, Mr. M—— died last night.

Mr. M—— was an intimate friend of a party present, and as the word
pronounced dyed is capable of two different meanings, one of the guests
interpreted it in its saddest sense, and immediately fainted. Wholesome
fun promotes laughter and good-fellowship; indulge in it all you will,
and so help your little world to be the merrier.

On a pure white tidy write in distinct letters upside down, the words,
“April Fool,” and get some boy to lean back against them. When he walks
about the room afterwards, his black jacket is decorated.

If you have an old cane-bottom chair, cut the seat out, but not too
close to the frame. Fit this nicely in and offer the seat to any of the
larger boys or girls. Instantly this individual finds himself slipping
down, but is more frightened than hurt.

Upholster a long low box to represent a divan. The top should consist
of neatly tacked down stiff brown paper, and over this throw a long
thin rug. Suggest to two or three of your liveliest friends that they
sit together on this divan. In a few moments the room will resound with
shrieks of laughter, for they will be seated on the floor.

Give a florist’s box temptingly covered with tissue paper and tied up
with gold cord to one of the guests. He will unfasten the cord, take
off the paper, and lift the cover only to find _nothing_ within.

Should your mother or sister be expecting a new spring bonnet, beguile
the milliner into letting you have one of her nicest hat boxes, into
which you should put your three years’ old Derby, and then watch the
result.

A questionable joke would be to send a party invitation to your old
friend, inviting him to an equally old friend’s house, and wait around
to see him enter.

Tell John or Mary there is an oat for them at Mr. Blank’s. They
thinking you have said “a note” immediately go to get it, and fully
comprehend your meaning when they are handed a tiny package of tissue
paper which serves as a covering to one oat and the words “April Fool.”

Arrange portières so they may be drawn on either side of a long mirror,
as window curtains are drawn from the centre of a window. Before this
make an effective group of a number of boys and girls. The rear ones
should stand, the ones immediately in front should be seated on the
floor. Above them should be written on a mirror these words, “April
Fools.” When every one is in place, a boy standing on the left and
right of the mirror should draw the portières.

A part of the refreshments for such an evening should be cakes frosted
with salt and others stuffed with cotton, oranges filled with sawdust,
tiny blocks of wood and small balls of cotton, covered with chocolate,
so simulating chocolate caramels and creams. Have also motto papers
deftly covering little pebbles, and iced coffee, which will be found to
be the most acid of iced vinegar. But do not let your refreshments end
with such a menu, or good nature even with the jolliest would cease to
be a virtue; when a little fun is gotten, serve a delicious supper.


EASTER FROLICS.

The time for Easter amusement is during the week which follows Easter
Day, and it would be a pretty idea at such a season to give a short
tableau entertainment in connection with music and games, the tableaux
indicating the superstitions of various countries.

When the tableau is shown, announce what it is intended to represent;
for example, in Russia the Easter festival might almost be termed the
“kissing festival,” for beginning with the Emperor, who on Easter Day
kisses various generals and even privates in his army, the singular
contagion spreads throughout the empire, apparently affecting both
aristocrat and plebeian.

_Tableau._—A boy representing the Russian Emperor kissing a member of
the army.

In the olden days of France it was the custom for a Christian to give a
Jew an Easter box.

_Tableau._—Two boys, one representing the Christian; the other, the
Jew. The Christian must be in the act of boxing the Jew’s ear.

Follow this with the France of to-day.

_Tableau._—An interior of a church, extravagantly trimmed with flowers,
and brilliant with lighted candles. It should be crowded with boys and
girls, mothers and fathers, all in brand-new clothes.

Show Spain as a dark-haired girl, with a mantilla over her head,
kneeling in a church before a mammoth candle—the Paschal candle, nine
feet long. In order to make it seem taller, stand it on a marble
pedestal.

Rome, with a procession of gayly attired children, and a boy
representing the Pope, in the most elegant of robes, carried in a
crimson chair, over which is a canopy. This chair must be preceded by
two boys, each carrying white ostrich-feather fans.

Germany, with a group of dancing girls and boys, the girls wearing
small, close-fitting white caps, full white aprons over dark
gold-braided skirts and white sleeves; the boys with knee-breeches,
white stockings, showy vests and gold buttons. Or show a hare running
from a nest filled with colored eggs, before which two little children
kneel. The nest should be placed under a bush, and one of the children
should wear a laughing face, for she holds up an egg.

England, with a crowd of boys and girls returning from Hampton Court,
Kew Gardens, or Stoke Pogis with their arms literally filled with
willow-boughs and branches of blossoms—yellow, pink, and white—with
which they will decorate the church for Easter Sunday.

Switzerland, with a band of musicians carrying guitars, and going from
house to house singing some sweet carol, their hats and caps wreathed
with flowers.

A very pretty way to amuse children of all ages is to hide eggs in the
grass or under bushes, and then have an egg-hunt. All eggs found may,
of course, be carried home. Give five minutes for the hunt, and it will
prove great sport for lookers-on also.

For another game, raise a tent decorated with flags, cheese-cloth
streamers, or ribbons. Opposite the tent in which the guests are to
be seated, and ten feet distant, is a post or tree on which to put
a prize. At the base of the post put a basket of thin china eggs or
glass balls, and also one at the tent door, only fill this basket with
excelsior. The game is to find the person that will throw the largest
number of eggs from one of the baskets into the other and not break
them. Whoever wins is rewarded by the prize.

For little children, form a ring, and pitch to the centre of the ring
a hard-boiled egg, and let them scramble for it. For larger children,
let them pair off, a boy and a girl; thus alternating, they form a
ring. Then start thirteen china or glass eggs, one after the other,
from hand to hand, taking the egg in the right hand, passing it to the
left, and so on round the ring. If an egg drops, it must stay where it
falls until the other eggs have gone around the ring three times. It
may chance by that time that all the eggs have dropped. When the third
time around is complete, immediately a grand chain is formed, and the
children dance, and go back to position, picking up the eggs as they
dance. If the egg is not picked up, keeping time to the music which is
being played throughout the game, that person cannot retain it, but
must give it to the one following. Sometimes no eggs fall, then the
game is kept up until all the eggs have passed rapidly around three
times. But when dropped and picked up, they must then go around once,
and after this final circuit the game is concluded.

Boil a dozen or more eggs in logwood of different strengths of dye;
they will then be colored violet or purple. Give these eggs, with a
large pin or pen-knife, to young people to decorate. Offer a prize for
the best decorations within fifteen minutes.

Still another game is to knock eggs. Hold an egg so that the small end
is shown between the forefinger and the thumb. Sit or stand opposite
to the person with whom you are playing. Then knock each other’s eggs.
The knock should be swift and hard, and whoever’s egg is the first to
crack must now be given to the opponent. When starting, each should
have an equal number. Whoever has the most eggs after playing ten
minutes has won.


_Finding the Hare._

The hare is nothing more nor less than a box made in exact copy of a
hare, about six inches long. When opened it shall be found full of
rose-colored and rose-flavored confectionery.

The company are told that a hare is hidden and whoever finds it is the
owner. It is a bewitching sight to see the merry hunt and great sport
for those engaged.


_The Parlor Egg Hunt._

Buy confectioners’ eggs, which come in all sizes, from the ostrich
size to a humming bird’s, made of chocolate or icing, and trimmed with
flowers or tiny ribbons. Hide the small eggs, and state in which rooms
they are hidden. Allow five minutes for the hunt, each striving to find
the most. Ring a bell to start and end the game.


_Ostrich Egg Search._

This is played exactly like the thimble game. Put a confectioner’s
ostrich egg in full sight, and at a signal every one begins to look for
it. When it is seen, the finder signifies the fact by sitting down,
and this continues until all are either seated or give up. The hostess
inquires of the first one who sat down where the egg is, and the answer
is given in a whisper. If correct, it may be retained as a favor, if
not, the egg must be drawn for.

The hiding must be cleverly managed, so that while the egg is in sight,
it is, however, in an unexpected spot, and where it cannot be handled.
Then, too, there should be a bogus egg, made from tissue paper, closely
resembling the confectioners egg. Many will mistake the egg.


_Basket Eggs._

Put two baskets at the end of a room, each basket lined with wadding,
and containing a dozen of eggs. Opposite these baskets on the other
side of the room, have two empty ones lined in a similar manner. Two
persons step forward, and at the ringing of a bell start to put the
dozen of eggs, without cracking, into the empty basket, the one who
succeeds first being victor.


_The Game of Cluck._

Perhaps this is the jolliest game of all, and it is essentially for
boys. Whoever gives the party should ask each of his friends to bring
a chicken—a real live chicken—and if he is sure he would not recognize
her when with a barnyard of others, he must tie a ribbon around her
neck; he must also bring some hard-boiled eggs. The court used should
be surrounded with a high netting, and the centre of the court marked
with a cross.

At a signal all the players, each with his fowl in his arms, must enter
the court, and the host, going to the centre, now becomes auctioneer,
and taking each offered fowl in turn, he loudly calls, “How many eggs
am I bid for this chicken?”—two eggs, three, or whatever the number may
be; no one must bid what he cannot pay, and the chicken is given to the
boy offering the largest number, and the eggs are given to the previous
owner of the chicken. He may put them wherever he pleases, only they
must be somewhere within the netting.

The sale being over, the “cluck” commences, for it is now each one’s
aim to recover his chicken, which can only be done by finding the
requisite number of eggs given for her. This is much easier said than
done, for the boys will have hidden them in their pockets and other
peculiar places. Meanwhile the chickens, running in every direction,
are very apt to “cluck” loudly.


_The Bird’s Nest._

Put a bird’s nest in a room; hunt for it as you “Hunt the slipper,”
only, instead of saying “warm, warmer,” and so on, you cluck, cluck,
cluck soft or loud as the party goes towards or from the nest. Only one
person hunts at a time; everybody else clucks.


MAY-DAY FESTIVITY.

A May-Queen party is conducted in a variety of ways. Very simply you
may say: “I am arranging for a Maying party; will you come? I shall
be so glad to have you.” And without further form than the above
invitation, only mentioning the time, place of meeting, luncheon, etc.,
everything for a day’s outdoor frolic is adjusted.

But the correct fashion is vastly different. The invitation is of
the same character as that given for any other party. The paper on
which the invitation is engraved should be decorated. The decoration
should be suggestive of the occasion—a trimmed May-pole, a throne for
the Queen, or the Queen herself. Also, in the left-hand corner of the
invitation, state the time when the tally-ho or carriages will start:
they start from the house of the giver of the party. A good hour is ten
o’clock, and the guests should be there ten minutes earlier.

All Maying parties should be in charge of a chaperone, not only for
Madame Grundy’s sake, who would do a great deal of talking, but because
there is then some one older than yourself to consult with in case
of need, as also some one to superintend those who would arrange the
refreshment table. And as this party must

            fall upon a day
    In the merry month of May.

everybody should wear holiday attire, as,

    In the days when we went gypsying,
        A long time ago,
    The lads and lassies in their best
        Were dressed from top to toe.

In France this day was dedicated to the Virgin, and the most popular
girl was called the “Lady of the May.” She was always crowned and
adorned with flowers, and sat in state on a miniature throne made of
flowers and branches, while her maids of honor begged for money from
all who passed that way, to be spent on the religious feast held later.

And our May-Queen can have her white frock too, as dainty and pretty
as that of any Parisian maiden, if she will only wear warm flannels
underneath it. Remember, that though May days are oftentimes warm and
sunny even to uncomfortableness, their temperature cannot be depended
upon.

The May-Queen should be arranged for by the giver of the party, and
also her six maids of honor. The Queen only wears white. The maids
should wear frocks of different hue, and each represent a woodland
flower or fern. For example, rose pink garlanded with pink rose-buds
and roses; baby-blue and forget-me-nots; pale violet and violets;
cowslip yellow and cowslips; Nile-green and maidenhair-fern, etc. The
guests should wear flowers, and may or may not represent flowers, as
they choose. Only they must wear gay attire. The boys might dress as
gentlemen of the court, adopting the fashion of princes, lords, pages;
and do not forget the fool, with his cap and bells, to amuse the Queen.
Or all may wear grotesque apparel—it is go-as-you-please fashion—only
if the grotesque is decided upon, all should adopt it; the Queen could
personate Maid Marian, with gilt crown on her head, and one of the boys
assume the character of Robin Hood.

It would be a delight could all of these occasions have a May-pole,
wound about with gay color, and long ribbon streamers firmly fastened
at the top, which during the dances should be braided and unbraided
again and again. It requires a tall straight tree, which should be
firmly set in the ground, after the order of a flag-staff. The tallest
May-pole ever set up in England was on the Strand, London, and was one
hundred and thirty-four feet high. A pole twelve feet from the ground,
however, will give just as much pleasure at the ordinary May-Queen
party. Around it join hands, and sing any familiar English ballads,
or songs from the opera of _Robin Hood_. It might be well to have a
rehearsal of two or three songs beforehand, if you should be particular
about your music at the time of the party. As for dances, they should
be intermingled with the songs, waltzes, mazourkas, schottisches—any
dance that you may know. Besides this, play one and another ring game,
even if you are ever such big boys and girls. Always remember to pay
homage to your Queen, being sure that she is leading.

Whoever gives the party is of course responsible for refreshments,
which are usually served picnic fashion on long tables in the woods,
near to the place where the games are played. The provisions should be
carried in a separate wagon, and be kept out of sight until it is time
for lunch. The tables may be made very attractive by means of mosses,
wild flowers, and grasses. One such table was of exquisite beauty, its
only adornment being ferns. A border of them was pinned or basted all
around the cloth, made higher at the corners. A large cut-glass bowl
stood in the centre of the table, filled with maiden-hair, and two
tall slender vases, one shorter than the other and filled with fine
ferns and vines stood at irregular distances. When the refreshments are
ready, the hostess must escort the Queen, and lead her to the position
of honor. Next to follow should be the maids of honor, and the rest as
they will. In every instance the Queen must be served first; indeed,
she should be shown every consideration.

The Queen’s throne should be erected near the May-pole. It is generally
made in a sort of bower of bushes. Sometimes a large stone has to form
the seat; cover this with flowers, so that your Queen is really sitting
in a floral chair. Make her crown before leaving home; it can be cut
out of pasteboard, and covered with gilt paper, and when you get to
the fields twine flowers around it; or you may assimilate a crown with
a wreath of wild flowers. In either case present it to her with great
formality. Having led her near the throne, two of the boys should stand
on either side of her, and suspend the crown between them, immediately
above her head. While they are in this position, the hostess must step
towards the Queen and say, “In the name of this court, we crown you
Queen of May.” The boy standing at her right then leads her to the
throne; when she is seated, the other boy presents her sceptre, and her
entire court sing a chorus previously decided.

The girls might all carry wooden hoops, and having wound flowers around
them, take them to some poor child or sick mother or sister on their
return home, and so have the pleasantest sort of an ending to the
May-Queen party. In our joy and gladness under the cloudless sky, on a
moss-covered walk, with violets and other wild flowers at our feet, we
should not forget the many more to whom such a party would seem almost
as a day in Paradise.


FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION.

Every boy, to properly celebrate Independence Day, should be well
stocked with torpedoes, large and small, fire-crackers, cannon, and
gunpowder. He should know that the starry flag flutters from his home,
and that the red, white, and blue is a part of his attire.

Early in the day a battalion of patriotic boys should march and
countermarch up and down the principal streets, while all the
while martial music is heard, and the shrill bugle call answers the
exultant drum beat. A banner should lead such a procession, and the
Star-spangled Banner should triumphantly wave throughout the entire
line.

Jolly fun may be had in the after part of the day, by setting an old
barn on fire.

Very often the boys’ fathers or uncles own a barn that they would
rather have out of the way than not, and the Fourth of July is the most
appropriate time in the entire year for a conflagration. When a barn is
to be fired, be sure that it is carefully prepared beforehand, with a
coating of tar and long wisps of tarred paper, and the boys cannot be
too cautious not to get on fire themselves.

Should boys not be successful in finding a barn to burn up, perhaps
they could find a dead tree on a friend’s vacant lot. A tree would
make a perfect tower of flame, and could be seen for miles around.
It, too, will blaze all the fiercer if you apply a coating of pitch.
Those engaged in this sport should wear their oldest clothing, in order
not to make themselves a nuisance to their mothers and sisters or
thoughtlessly waste their fathers’ money.

Perhaps some of the boys would like a receipt for a powerful noise. It
is simple enough—nothing but chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed; you
should put several pieces of paper around it, though, and hammer it
down as heavy as you can.


HALLOWE’EN GAMES AND TRICKS.


_The Nut Trick._

The shell must be prepared before the performance. Remove the kernel
by boring a hole, or opening the nut at one end. Take out the contents
by the aid of a lady’s hat-pin, and instead of the kernel, slip in a
short piece of scarlet-colored baby-width ribbon. Then putty or wax
the opening over, and color the putty or wax with a dye, crayon, or
paint, the exact shade of the nut. The nut being thus prepared, you
may now lay it on the table before your friends, and present a bunch
of many-colored ribbons of the same width and length to them. Ask that
some one select any piece he chooses; you must have a don’t-care air,
as though it didn’t make any difference to you which piece was chosen.
While, on the contrary, you care so much, that should a wrong selection
be made you must at once tell an interesting story, which will help
your friends to forget that the ribbon has already been selected, and
you should make use of this opportunity to offer the ribbons over
again. This time the selection will likely be correct. It would be
wise to have the majority of pieces of ribbon the color of the piece
in the nut, as that color would catch the eye first and stand a better
chance of being taken.

The right ribbon now being chosen, make a great point of looking at it;
hold it up at arm’s length, so that all the audience may see it. Then
ask the party who made the selection to put it back in the bunch with
the others and mix them all up to please himself. When he has finished,
face the bunch of ribbons, and loudly repeat, three times over,
“Ribbon, go into the nut.” Then ask your friend to go forward and take
the little hammer which he will find on the table and crack the nut
open. When the nut is opened, sure enough inside is a scarlet ribbon.


_Burn a Lady’s Handkerchief, but Return it Whole Again._

This requires a tin cylinder about eight inches in diameter and twelve
inches in height. Into this put a perfectly fitting tin vessel, which
is divided strictly in half. When this vessel is slid inside of the
cylinder the whole does not look unlike a canister with a cover at
each end. Having the handkerchief, hold it so that everybody sees it,
and talk fluently, keeping the body constantly in motion; indeed,
making so many motions that no one has noticed that you have packed
this handkerchief in the upper division of the tin vessel, and that,
as you are walking towards the candle, you have turned the cylinder
upside down, and that also the handkerchief you are now holding is
really not a handkerchief at all, but a thin piece of muslin you have
prepared to simulate a handkerchief. Pour on it a few drops of alcohol,
which will help it to burn even more rapidly; tear it, if you think
it more effective. When the owner thinks that her handkerchief is
forever destroyed, cleverly manage to invert the cylinder, take out the
handkerchief, shake it well, holding it so that all the audience sees
that it is not even scorched, and then return it to the lady.


_The Bowl Trick._

Fill a tiny tumbler with water and cover it with a bowl. Then state you
will drink the water in the tumbler underneath without moving the bowl.

Of course the company do not believe you, and you ask all to turn
their backs, or close their eyes, if they will promise not to look,
until one of the party counts ten. Immediately they have turned their
backs, or closed their eyes, you pick up another glass of water and
hastily swallow a few mouthfuls. They hear the sound, but no one can
look until ten is counted. By that time the glass from which you drank
is hidden again, and the company catch you wiping your moist lips.
Undoubtedly one of the number will be so suspicious that he will lift
the bowl to see, and then is your opportunity, for you at once pick up
the glass and drink, saying, as you put it down, “_I_ didn’t touch the
bowl.”


_An Impossible Jump._

Take a gentleman’s hat, and, turning it around so that every one sees
it, ask your friends whether, if you put it on the floor, they could
jump over it. Of course they will answer, “Yes.” Then stand it close to
the wall, and tell them not to all try at once, but take their turn to
jump.


_Turn a Goblet Upside Down Without Spilling the Water._

Fill a glass goblet so as not to allow any water to drop over the edge.
Cover the top with a piece of paper; on the paper put your hand, and
turn the goblet rapidly over; then remove the hand. The upward pressure
of the air will prevent the water from spilling.


_The Hat Omelet._

Everybody who enjoys tricks is no doubt familiar with this. It is very
easy to do.

First state that you are about to make an omelet. Then break three eggs
into the hat, and appear to add a little milk and flour, after which
shake all together and hold the hat over a lighted lamp, candle, or
gas. After a few moments lift out the hot flaky omelet and pass it to
your friends; otherwise they will think they have been deceived.

The secret is, the omelet was cooked on the range, and was in the
hat when you commenced to exhibit the trick, the hat being held too
high for the audience to see inside. The eggs were not full, only
the shells, the contents having been previously drawn through a tiny
aperture at one end. Laugh and talk a great deal and it will not be
noticed that you do not put in the cornstarch and milk; also let a real
egg drop, as if by accident, on a plate standing on the table before
you, or let a tablespoon or knife fall. This will attract all eyes and
further prevent discovery. As in other tricks, you should practise it
before showing it to your friends.


_The Wonderful Carafe._

An empty carafe is brought by your confederate. This you should rinse
and drain in the presence of your audience, in order to satisfy them
that there is really no mistake, that the carafe is positively empty.
After it has well drained, dry it, wiping it around with the greatest
care. In the towel which your confederate brought you he also brought
a bladder, in which was a weak preparation made up of spirits of
wine, sugar, and water. In this way the carafe is filled without the
audience detecting. The glasses are already in position, and in each
one has been put a drop or two of flavoring extract, such as pineapple,
lemonade, orange, peppermint. The magician then inquires if any one
would like a glass of lemonade, and being answered in the affirmative,
he pours the same from the carafe by filling the glass in which the
drops of lemonade extract have been placed. In like manner he will give
a glass of orangeade, or whatever drink corresponds to the extract in
the glasses.


_The Vanishing Ten-cent Piece._

Put this coin in the palm of your hand and take pains to let everybody
see it. Then state that if any one of the audience will call out,
“Vanish,” it will disappear.

The reason why is because the nail of your middle finger is covered
with white wax, and closing the hand forcibly the coin instantly
fastens itself to it. You must then open the hand wide and show that
the ten-cent piece has really gone.

The tricks now being over, the audience rose to congratulate their
young entertainers and also to exchange a few words with one another,
and in so doing many of them did not discover that refreshments were
about to be served until they were asked to take seats at the small
tables that had most mysteriously appeared.

The refreshments were very simple, being only vanilla and strawberry
rolled wafers and delicious tea. The tea was, of course, poured into
the prettiest of Japanese cups, and carried on richly decorated trays,
on which were laid divers colored Japanese napkins, while the graceful,
cordial, Japanese-robed young girls added an indescribable charm.

And thus closed this dainty, interesting entertainment amid the
pleasant chatter of the happily seated, congenial company.


_Blindfolded Prophecy._

Should you be in the country on All Hallowe’en, one of the party should
be blindfolded and sent into the kitchen garden, of course using every
security against accident. The person sent must pull up a vegetable,
and without shaking off the dirt from the roots, bring it back with
him. Should it have a great quantity of mould hanging to its roots,
that is a sure sign whoever has it will make a wealthy marriage.
If, on the contrary, there is but little mould, he will make a poor
marriage. If the vegetable is tall and well shapen, this proves he
will marry a tall, beautiful girl. If, however, the vegetable is short
and crooked, he will marry a short and homely girl. If a vegetable is
brought in without any roots, the person bringing it will be a bachelor
or old maid.

Care should be taken in the playing of this game to prevent the house
and clothing from getting dirty; therefore be watchful and hold the
vegetable you bring at arm’s length.

The best place to decide the vegetable’s shape, mould, etc., would be
in the kitchen, or on the piazza. If the latter is enclosed, lamps
could be carried out there, if not, possibly the light from the windows
and hall way would be sufficient; or try a lantern.


_The Divining Mirror._

Hold an unpeeled apple in the right hand and a lighted candle in the
left, while you stand in an empty, unlighted room before a mirror.

Then you must eat the apple and watch sharp, for you are to see your
future husband’s or wife’s face in the mirror. The face will appear
over your left shoulder.

This game is also part trick, as fairy folk are apt to be famous
tricksters and therefore not very trustworthy, especially if it is
after dark.

One of the boys will likely have stolen back of you, disguised with a
false face. He has reached you on his hands and knees, and when all
of a sudden he rises, you will be so startled that it will be an easy
matter for him to escape without detection. Or a girl could do the same
as a boy.

In order to more fully cover one’s tracks, it would be well for the
tricking player to blow out the candle as he appears over the shoulder.
This, too, will partly conceal the features, for puckered lips and eyes
fixed steadily on the flame will not look natural.


_The Tumbler Test._

Fill three tumblers with water. One must hold blue water, such as
the laundress uses for clothes, another must hold soapy water,
and another clear water, while still another must be empty. These
tumblers should stand on a table directly before the individual who
is to be blindfolded. After he is blindfolded, change the position of
the glasses, placing one where the other one stood, and so on. Then
instruct the party to dip his fingers into one of the tumblers. Having
felt around, his fingers are dipped into the clear water, and thus he
learns that he is to marry a beautiful rich girl. Had he dipped into
the soapy water, it would have meant that he would marry a poor widow;
if in the blue water, he would be a noted author; if in the empty
glass, he would die a bachelor. This game is played in the same way
with the girls, only, of course, changing the sex, as, for example,
marrying a rich, handsome man.


_The Penknife Trick._

Before leaving the room state that while you are away any one may place
a pen-knife where he may please, and without any word being spoken you
will find it.

Of course you have a confederate, who remains behind and notices where
the knife has been put.

When you enter, walk towards one of the corners in the room; if your
confederate is looking up, you will know you are in the right corner,
but if he is looking down you must try another. If you notice he is not
looking up when you have tried all the corners, then walk towards the
centre of the room, and between the corners; at one of these points
he will raise his eyes. In this way, you will get the location. You
must then diligently search, and when your confederate lets something
drop on the floor you will know you are _very close_ to the penknife.
Sometimes it is in a person’s pocket; for that reason watch just the
moment when your friend has given you the clue. Possibly your hand may
be on some one’s shoulder; this would indicate to search that person.


_Ball Trick._

A girl must take a ball of rose-colored worsted and toss it out in the
garden as far as she can. She must be careful, however, not to lose
hold of the end of the worsted. Then she should walk up and down the
parlor or piazza, winding the worsted up; as she walks she sings,

    Who holds my thread? Who holds my clue?
    For he loves me and I him too.

All of a sudden, if the game is properly played, the worsted will
refuse to come. If the worsted breaks in her exertion to wind it, she
will never marry; but she should keep firm hold and wind slowly, and in
time will thus surely reach the person who has caught the other end.
This individual is to be her future husband. Generally the “husband”
part is a trick, for some one will hold the worsted that she would
never marry; for example, a boy many years her junior, or her old
grandfather, or brother. This game being played for the same reason as
many another, “only for fun.”


_The Fortune Apple._

On several pieces of wood, thin as paper, write, in ink or paint,
girls’ names. Slip each name into an apple. This set will do for the
boys; make similar ones for the girls. Fill three portable tubs with
water, and set an even number of apples floating in each tub. Fasten
the arms of three boys securely back, and cover them entirely with
water-proof cloaks. Lead each boy to a tub and ask him to repeat
distinctly,

    Witches and wizards and birds of the air,
    Goblins and brownies, all lend me your care,
    Now to choose wisely for once and for all,
    And ever your names in praise loudly I’ll call.

Then each boy must put his head down and try to catch in his teeth an
apple. In it he’ll find the name of one of the girls present, and she
will be his fate. If the name is a strange one, there will even then be
teasing enough for him. After the boys have all tried the game, then it
is time for the girls.

Lead a girl up to a tub and blindfold her; lead her around while she
repeats the rhyme, and with the words “loudly I call,” she must bend
down and try to catch in one hand an apple or, if she prefers, she may
try to spear an apple with a fork. If the latter way, only one drop of
the fork will be allowed. If it sticks far enough in an apple not to
fall altogether, her fate is sure.


_The Money-Maker._

This is one of the large number of trick games, and like all the others
it is very easy when you know how. It is played by two people, both of
whom understand the trick, and it should be the effort of the company
to discover as soon as is possible what that trick is. When the trick
is discovered the game is simple. To prove that you know it, you
should take the place of one of the players. If the game then goes on
satisfactorily you are out, but the others remain in until they either
give up or learn the secret also.

The money-maker leaves the room and on his return his confederate
will ask him questions. His answer will prove to the company that he
understands which business, trade or profession they have decided he
must enter in order to make money.

The secret is easy to discover if you are on the alert; it is the first
business named after a question which has commenced with the letter O
or which contains the exclamation oh! Example:

The company have decided that the one who has left the room must be a
publisher.

“Will you be an organ grinder?”

“No, I thank you.”

“Will you be a physician?”

“I would not like night work.”

“How would you like farming?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, I know! you’d like to be a tailor.”

“But I know I wouldn’t.”

“Well, will you be a publisher?”

“Just the thing.”


CHRISTMAS JOLLITY.


_The Yule Log._

Young people should costume themselves in grotesque apparel. They may
be Twelfth Night characters, Viola, Olivia, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Sir
Toby, Sebastian, sea-captains, lords, priests, officers, musicians,
etc., or assume any disguise indicative of Christmas.

Early in the evening, several of the company should disappear, but with
great hilarity return, drawing in the Yule log. This is nothing more or
less than a rugged log. Knotted at each end with long strong ropes, by
which it is pulled. As the young people draw it they should sing,

    Welcome be ye that are here,
    Welcome all and make good cheer;
    Welcome all another year,
    Welcome Yule.

This verse should be sung over and over until the Yule log lies on the
hearthstone.


_Christmas Pie._

Two people, each wearing interesting costume, and with masked faces,
walk in, rolling before them on a wheelbarrow an enormous pie. It is
made after the fashion of a Jack Horner pie, being in a deep dish
covered with diamond-dusted white paper, with tiny ribbons exposed.

The first performance is to roll the pie all around the room, and then
to the centre, where they will sing,

    Who’ll have a bird from this Christmas pie?
    Whoever guesses me may answer I.

For a few minutes all the company keep quite still, then the guessing
commences; when the correct names are mentioned, the couple unmask, and
at once the correct guesser draws a ribbon. He will find on the end of
it a candy bird,—perhaps a robin redbreast made of candy and stuffed
with sugarplums. As soon as the bird is drawn, one of the parties who
has rolled in the wheelbarrow imitates a bird-song on a harmonica.
This is easily effected without discovery, as everybody’s attention is
directed to what has been drawn.


_Tableaux Vivants._

A catchy tableau series would be Mother Goose and her children
celebrating Christmas.

_Tableau First._—Mother Goose in her tall, cone-shaped hat, riding on
an enormous goose. Copy her and all the other costumes from Mother
Goose’s book.

_Tableau Second._—Her children faithfully charactered. Little Jack
Horner should be sitting in a corner, eating his Christmas pie. The
King in his parlor should be dressed to represent a king. Simple Simon
should meet a pieman going to the fair, etc.

_Tableau Third._—A sleeping apartment, Mother Goose and her family in
bed. Great prominence must be shown to Mother Goose, whose bed is in
front, and near her some of her more notable children. This scene may
be readily arranged by putting small cots on the stage; the children
can lie down dressed, the coverlets hiding their clothing. Near each
bed put that which would indicate their character, as example, the big
pie for the pieman.

_Tableau Fourth._—Santa Claus at home about time to start. Interior of
a room, simply packed with all sorts of hobby-horses, dolls—big and
little, dressed and undressed—musical birds, woolly sheep, sleighs,
drums, tenpins, everything in the toy line that could be imagined or
described; while in a large easy-chair before the lighted grate-fire
sits old Santa himself, as gray-bearded, fat, and jolly as ever.

_Tableau Fifth._—Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep and dreamed—

Show Santa Claus again, this time out-of-doors, on his sled drawn by
swift reindeer; but the reindeer have stopped, for Bo-Peep stands
before them, her shepherd’s crook leaning over her shoulder, her sheep
all around, and they, as also Bo-Peep, gazing at the presents—sled,
Santa Claus’s pack, at hat, beard, miniature tree, full stockings, and
all. Bo-Peep wears a regular shepherdess costume, the sheep are toy
sheep on wheels. The bells should jingle loudly until Bo-Peep appears.

_Tableau Sixth._—The Christmas tree.

A large tree filled with toys; leaning against it is a ladder, which
Mother Goose climbs, and then unfastens the various gifts. Her children
are all grouped around the bottom, and impatiently await the arrival of
their presents.

_Tableau Seventh._—The Christmas dance.

Mother Goose and her children dance around the Christmas tree. Waltz
music is played; they dance once around, when the curtain is drawn.

_Tableau Eighth._—Mother Goose’s children eating their Christmas
supper. A long table covered with a white cloth, and decorated with
lighted candelabra, flowers, bonbons, fancy cakes, china, silver, and
cut glass. All the children are seated around, Mother Goose at the
head, and to her right her son Jack, then Jack’s wife, then a boy, then
a girl, and so on around. Each child is in the act of eating, drinking,
lifting a cup, a candy, or indicating some natural movement at a supper
table; their heads should be turned as though they were in conversation.

_Tableau Ninth._—Mother Goose and her family in a well-arranged group
now stand and sing a jolly good-night song. This song may be acted by
those on the stage, but the singing is done by an unseen chorus.

Follow this with two tableaux, opposite in meaning.

_Tableau One._—The empty stocking. A poverty-stricken looking room—bare
floor, a hard-wood chair and table (on the table stand a few pieces of
cheap china), a window with a broken pane, in which a bunch of paper or
canton matting is stuffed to keep out the snow; a small kerosene lamp,
the light from which comes dimly. A poorly clad and as poorly fed
appearing little girl; one of her thin hands rests on the table, while
the other holds an empty stocking, on which the child sadly gazes.

_Tableau Two._—Bless you honey-bugs! Yo’ feels gay.

This also is a plainly furnished room, but it is trimmed with Christmas
greens, a large star and tree being particularly conspicuous. There
are several colored children running around, some dancing, with toys
in one hand and a full stocking in the other, others taking things
off a little tree, others again eating sugarplums, or striding across
the bare floor in eager pursuit of a dropped cornucopia or cinnamon
cake. Their dusky-faced mammies, meanwhile, laugh at them through the
half-open doorway.

And thus tableau might be described after tableau. But a few hints may
be helpful.

Carefully study scenic effect. “How beautiful!” is so often the
exclamation regarding a well-dressed stage, even before any person
appears or one word is spoken. Remember to use harmonizing colors, and
to throw on different-colored lights. The latter may cost a little
money, but it will repay a hundredfold. A white light changing to pink,
again to yellow, rose or green, as the scenery may require. In every
way catch the eye.

Remember, the tableau is but for a minute; let that minute be
perfection.

Sometimes, for example, let a fountain play in the large grounds or
garden. This can be easily arranged by the proper management of a hose.
You can surely place a piece of oilcloth under the moss over which the
water flows, and have sponges conveniently near.

Be careful to select pretty and noticeable toilettes. If you are taking
the character of a queen at a drawing-room, dress as the queen, not as
her maid; but should you be a maid, wear jaunty, gay attire, and do not
costume yourself in a severely cut brown-cloth tailor suit.

Use all the accessories possible—music, song, recitation, as either may
be given off the stage as an accompaniment to a tableau. Be sure there
is no catch in the stage curtain, and that the prompter understands all
his duties. Every one should be punctual at rehearsals; and the night
of the entertainment all the cast should be ready thirty minutes ahead
of time, as that will prevent worry and nervousness. And if everybody
is calm, and understands his part, there is no question as to success.

“The Birds’ Christmas Carol” would make a pleasing tableau.


_The Annunciation._

    The angel greets the Virgin mild;
    Hail, Mary, full of grace! thy child
        The Son of God shall be.

This tableau represents an interior: the room has a deep frieze drapery
over the mantel, before which Mary kneels on a low cushion; to her
left, and considerably before her, is a large jardinière filled with
ascension lilies; and directly before her is a table, on which is a
roll of parchment partly unfastened. By the table stands the angel with
hands outstretched towards her.

_Tableau Second._—The shepherds see the angels bright.

Scene out of doors, with shepherds in their usual costume, each
shepherd holding a crook, while back of them, huddled close together,
stand the herds of sheep. Before the shepherds, and a trifle to their
right, is the angel, with outstretched hands, indicating the way.


BIRTHDAY IDEAS.


_A Birthday Picnic._

A pleasant number is twenty. Ten girls and ten boys.

Be driven to the destination in large market or hay wagons made festive
with flags. Each girl should bring luncheon enough for herself and
one of the boys. And the boys should be responsible for the outfit
for games, such as ropes, archery, grace hoops, tennis net, balls and
racquets.

If you are not going to a regular picnic ground, you will require
tables. Therefore borrow five cutting tables from your mothers and
these can be folded and put in the bottom of the wagon, and four
persons can easily sit at each. The boys can arrange the seats, which
might be the wagon seats built to the requisite height by supporting
each end on a pile of stones, or convenient rocks may be chosen, or
take the rails from the post-and-rail fence adjoining. Only in that
case, remember to put them back again.

Use plated spoons, forks, etc., so as to save worry, and Japanese
napkins, which may do double duty, as they make pretty tablecloths,
and there is no fuss about having to carry them home. If you take
sandwiches, wrap them neatly in white tissue or waxed paper. Use thin
wooden platters instead of china, and no one will be afraid of chipping
them; besides they are so light, and after luncheon they, as also the
napkins and tablecloths, may be burned up, if you are careful not to
set the woods on fire.

You might find it pleasant to put the lunches, wraps, etc., in one
wagon, and have all the picnickers in the other. Trusty drivers for
both wagons will be necessary.

After the lunch is over and cleared away, games and races will be the
order of the day.

But don’t forget you must be home by sundown. When all have bundled
into the wagons to return, let song follow song. One of the big boys
might act as director of the chorus.


_A Birthday Floral Ball._

The entire house, including the halls, should be trimmed with asparagus
and Japanese lanterns. From the drawing-room ceilings suspend inverted
cones of asparagus, and as pendants from these fasten Japanese
lanterns. String evergreens around the stair banisters and halls.
Indeed, make of your house, including the dining-room, a sort of fairy
bower, on which the Japanese lanterns at happy intervals, cast light
and color.

The orchestra should be hidden in a tiny forest, and their music should
be jolly, light and pretty. Among the numbers have the “Dance of the
Flowers,” by Tschaikowsky. Follow this with several flower dances.
Example, “The Sweet Peas Waltz.” The girls’ costume should be white
tarletan, effectively trimmed with sweet peas. The boys should have
sweet pea boutonnières.

The Pansy Cotillion. For this dance wear crêpe lisse, tarletan,—indeed
any flimsy material you choose, but it must be of one of the pansy
colors; and as the pansy has so many shades of brown, yellow, purple,
deep rose, etc., the variety which would mingle, as the several figures
are given, would result in a kaleidoscopic effect of color and beauty.

Perhaps a few solo dances could be arranged. If so have a Cowslip
dance, when the little maiden should be frocked in pale yellow, or
the Heliotrope, with a frock of lilacs. Another might dance the
Forget-me-not, and wear a gown of blue.

While still another dance might be termed the Water-Lily, which
would necessitate a frock of white and gold, as the blue and pink
water-lilies are comparatively rare. Whichever flower is represented
should be worn, either on the hair or dress.

Then should come the Wild Flower Minuet when daisies, buttercups,
clover, chicory, violets, honeysuckle, and other wild flowers could vie
with each other in the stately graceful movements. Follow the minuet
with the Butterfly promenade and dance. In this a large number should
engage, as it is quite proper there should be butterflies flitting from
flower to flower. Any dance may be appropriated to the butterflies,
but they should select their own partners from any of the flowers
they please. The butterflies will wear almost as many colors as the
pansies, and silver, gold or other butterflies should be fastened on
the shoulders or on other parts of their costume.


_A Birthday Matinée._

The afternoon may be made perfectly fascinating by giving a birthday
matinée. A young lady should costume herself as Little Buttercup
of _Pinafore_ fame. Wear a large hat, grotesquely ornamented, short
parti-colored skirts, and above all things carry a well-filled market
basket. She should sing Little Buttercup’s song, and also act and
dance. As the whole thing is a burlesque, it need not be correctly
done, only be sure to get some graceful girl to take the part, and one
who will bring out the laughter by her bits of humor here and there.
If the party is for children, the basket should contain inexpensive
toys, and when singing, “I’ve ribbons and laces, to set off your
faces,” waltz up to a group of children and distribute the toys.
Continue this when singing the chorus, as also during the playing of
the interludes, until each child has a gift. Should the party be for
older people, instead of toys give suggestive presents. Example, a
whip to a horsewoman, or a tiny pair of oars to a rower. The music is
from the opera _Pinafore_ and can be purchased or mailed from almost
any bookstore. When people are through laughing over this part of the
programme, tell them that confectioners’ buttercups are hidden in the
drawing-room, library and hall; that they are in three colors,—violet,
white, and pink,—and that all of the guests are expected to hunt for
them; that a bell will be rung as a signal to commence the hunt, and in
like manner to close it; that five minutes time will be allowed. Three
prizes will be awarded; the first to be given to the finder of the most
pink buttercups, the second to the one finding the greatest number of
buttercups adding all the colors together, the third to the one finding
the fewest. Should any one be so unfortunate as not to find any, his
penalty will be to pay a forfeit. If this individual is a musician,
his forfeit should be a song or an instrumental solo, or should he be
a recitationist, he must read or recite, if neither of these, require
him to put himself through a key-hole. This is done by writing the
word “himself” on a small piece of paper, rolling it over until still
smaller and slipping it through the key-hole. You will require two
pounds of buttercups, dividing that amount in the colors mentioned.
Roll each candy separately in tissue paper, corresponding in color, and
hide with care. If for a children’s party, place _bric-à-brac_ and all
breakable articles beyond their reach, and direct the little people so
as to avoid accidents.


BIRTHDAY TABLEAUX.


_Tulips._

Group the children so that they look pretty. They could wear green
clothes to represent stalk and leaves, and have large, colored-paper
petals fastened to their waists, and with wire shaped and bent upward
they would look like veritable tulips. Then a few others could, in a
previous tableau, show the act of planting tulip bulbs and watering
some growing tulips.


_The Cotillon._

Eight girls and boys should be dressed in Knickerbocker attire, and
stand as if ready for the first figure of the Cotillon.

This tableau should be set in a drawing-room.


_Flitting Fairies and Butterflies._

Gay music is heard and in come the fairies dancing, followed by a train
of dancing butterflies, costumed in red, yellow, and white.

The wings may be of tinted crêpe paper or tarletan held in place by
stiff wire.

The fairies should wear short fluffy gowns of airy gossamer, heavily
covered with spangles and diamond dust. With each movement they must
glimmer and glisten.

The scene may be set in any pretty drawing room, but more properly with
a background of palms and potted plants.



METHODS OF CHOOSING PARTNERS.


Pass baskets of flowers to the ladies. Enough bunches have been
prepared and laid in the baskets for each one of the ladies. On a tray
are bunches of leaves and vines; pass these to the men.

The leaves will match the flowers, as a bunch of pansies will have a
corresponding bunch of pansy leaves, a bunch of lilies of the valley
its bunch of lily leaves, etc., etc. Where roses are used, a bud
matching the rose may be put with the leaves, or better, the ribbon
tying a bunch of rose leaves, might match the rose it is supposed to
go with. Of course, the pansy-leaf man will hunt out the lady with
pansies; and the lily-leaf man, the maid with the lilies.

Take bristol-board and cut it in small pieces, the size and shape of
large rose petals. Tint these pink with a bit of yellow on the narrow
end, where the petal is supposed to have left the rose. Write in gilt
paint on each of them a word, any noun, verb, adjective, etc. Then
bend and twist in the fingers until they look like veritable Katherine
Mermet or La France petals. Have enough so that each girl invited may
have one.

Take more bristol-board and make deep red petals; on these write with
gilt paint a part of speech, noun, verb, adverb, etc. Make enough to
supply each man.

These at the time of entertainment should be passed just before you
wish the partners chosen. Then the man whose petal reads _adverb_ will
seek among the pink-petaled girls until he finds an adverb.

Of course, in a large company there will be several nouns and several
adverbs. But the noun man will of course offer his arm to the first
pink noun he finds. Be sure to have the petals match. If you must have
five red petals reading _verb_, be sure to have an equal number of pink
verb petals, e. g. pink petals reading _play_, _dance_, _sing_, _run_,
_talk_.

Have two baskets, one knotted with pink ribbon and the other with red.
These baskets should each contain paper hearts, about three inches
long, and wide in proportion. The hearts may be suspended by means of
narrow pink satin ribbons, and each heart is slightly decorated with
water-color paints. In the same basket no two hearts are alike, but
their duplicates are found in the other basket. When the duplicates are
found, partners are decided.

       *       *       *       *       *

Have two bags of walnuts. One is to be passed to the girls, the other
to the boys. To each walnut a tiny slip of paper has been glued,
on which half of a familiar quotation is written. One half of the
quotations are in the girls’ bag, the other half in the boys.’ The
girls’ bag is passed first. When the boy is able to complete his
quotation, he discovers his partner.

       *       *       *       *       *

When an equal number of boys and girls are present, for example, ten
each, mark ten slips of paper according to the numerals, 1, 2, and so
on. Then throw them into a bag and jostle them together. After which
pass to the girls. They should each draw one paper.

When the girls have drawn, offer slips of paper in the same manner to
the boys, who will draw likewise. Corresponding numbers are partners.



TANGLES AND FORFEITS.


TANGLES.


Charades.

    1. When I go gunning
       I’m very bright.
       And it’s my delight
       To keep good sight.
       When I go fishing
       I like to hook,
       And when I sift
       A pretty book,
       I help our seamstress and our cook,
       Then all around the room I look
       And think of all I’ve undertook.


Second.

    I’m beating America,
    So folks say,
    As through the air
    My horses tear,
    And snap, snap, snap,
    I cannot hold them back.


Whole.

      Black and sweeping,
      Swimming and weeping,
      So wet, so tender,
      Sometimes the scorning of’t
      Others the sorrow of’t,
      Lifting so joyfully,
      Drooping so coyly.

    2. My first shouts freely in,
       My second’s a pretty letter,
       My third a valiant instrument.
       But my fourth, alas,
       Just has to pass,
       As wound and scar,
       From beauty’s law it doth debar,
       For it doth seal and hurt and mar.

    3. My first comes over the sea,
       And delicious it is to me,
       My second of use to draw,
       And of variety score upon score,
       My whole has letters six,
       And while the clock ticks, ticks,
       I am sure you’ll guess my name,
       For I’ve told you very plain.

    4. I am a word of five letters,
       And a torment to my betters,
       My first and last are alike they say,
       My second and fourth the same trick play.
       My three middle letters
       Come every one’s way
       And make a brief stay,
       On all alike,
       Just before night.


ANAGRAMS.

     1. Cover no sin.
     2. Tim N. may gain.
     3. Go nurse.
     4. Train on time.
     5. Claim a part, G.
     6. A mad girl.
     7. ’Tis veteran Mylo, D.
     8. A rude song.
     9. Any one can.
    10. Thomas rap again.


CROSS-WORD ENIGMAS.

    1. My first is in saddle, but not in pony;
       My second is in spaghetti, but not macaroni;
       My third is in water, but not in sand;
       My fourth is in Indian, but not in command;
       My fifth is in plank, but not in board;
       My sixth is in saving, but not in hoard;
       My seventh is in make, but not in lose;
       My eighth is in gaiters, but not in shoes;
       My ninth is in candle, but not in light;
       My tenth is in horses, but not in bite;
       My eleventh is in inch, but not in measure;
       My twelfth is in satin, but not in treasure;
       My thirteenth is in coke, but not in ton.
       My whole is a useful invention.

    2. My first is in silent, but not in loud;
       My second is in alone, but not in crowd;
       My third is in example, but not in talk;
       My fourth is in buying, but not in bought;
       My fifth is in fancy, but not in reality;
       My sixth is in brains, but not in vanity;
       My seventh is in angels, but not in ghosts;
       My eighth is in goodness, but not in hoax;
       My ninth is in religion, but not in cant.
       My whole is the name of a useful plant.

    3. My first is in lamb, but not in beef;
       My second is in mouth, but not in teeth;
       My third is in Neptune, but not in sea;
       My fourth is in steward, but not in me;
       My fifth is in slow, but not in fast;
       My sixth is in never, but not in last.
       My whole is a great city.

        4. In house not in lawn,
           In take not in form,
           In lark not in sky,
           In toil not in try,
           In borrow not in lend,
           In tatters not in mend,
           In draught not in buy,
           In loaf not in pie,
           In page not in book,
           In novel not in took.
           My whole is a flower.


NUMERICAL ENIGMAS.

    1. I am composed of five letters.
       My 3, 2, 5, shows hindrance.
       My 4, 1, a part of speech.
       My whole is a Spartan title.

    2. I am composed of twenty-seven letters.
       My 20, 16, 17, is a condition of atmosphere.
       My 14, 13, 26, 18, was a rich woman.
       My 1, 9, 25, 11, 10, is indicative of knowledge.
       My 6, 23, 24, 22, relative to curvature.
       My 8, 3, 4, 12, shows docility.
       My 19, 15, 7, 21, is a girl’s name.
       My 2, 27,—5, Insert a letter in the blank space and you’ll
             have the end.
       My whole is a proverb.

    3. I am composed of nine letters.
       My 4, 2, 6, 5, is a space.
       My 3, 8, 1, is a quick inclination.
       My 7, 9, with one of the letters doubled indicates comfort.
       My whole is a flower.

    4. I am composed of eight letters.
       My 7, 4, 5, 3, is a kind of skin.
       My 6, 2, 8, represents a number.
       My 1 is a part of speech.
       My whole is an animal.


DECAPITATIONS.

1. Behead a stream of water, and leave a bird like a crow, behead a
carpenter’s tool and leave a passage, behead a section of a carriage
and leave the hind part of a section of the body, behead an edible fish
and leave a multitude.

2. Behead a supplication and leave light, behead a short time and leave
a hide, behead a covering and leave relations, behead a relative and
leave something different.

3. Behead a wading bird and leave a wooer, behead to charge and leave
one that is unsound, behead a dance and leave a fish, behead an officer
and leave a verb.

4. Behead a weapon of war and leave a fruit, behead an ensign and leave
a unit, behead a low, flat-built vessel, and leave a narrow passage,
behead a ruminating animal and leave a plant and its seed.


DROP-LETTER RIDDLES.

    1. -h- w-s -u-h -u-e -o -o-z?
    2. -h- w-l-e- o- e-r-h,
       -h- t-l-e- o- e-r-h,
       -h- r-b-k-d - m-n -o- s-n;
       -h-’s -o- o- e-r-h,
       -h-’s -o- i- h-a-e-,
       -o- l-k-l- t- g-t -n.
    3. -h- d-d -d-m -i-e -h- a-p-e -v- g-v- h-m?
    4. -h-t -i- a-a- f-r-t -e- i- t-e -a-d-n -f -d-n?
    5. -h- a-e -d-m -n- e-e -n -n-m-l- i- g-a-m-r?
    6. -o- d-d -o-h -r-s- h-s -a-r -n -h- a-k?


DROP-LETTER PUZZLES.

    1. M-K- H-Y -H-L- T-E -U- S-I-E-.
    2. -a-l- -o -e- -n- -a-l- -o -i-e,
       -a-e- -e- -e-l-h-, -e-l-h-, -n- -i-e.
    3. -o -o -h- -n- -ho- -luggar-, -onside- -e- -ay- -n- -e -is-.
    4. -i-t-e -l-n- i- h-p-i-e-s -e-o-.


OPENING LINES OF FAMILIAR SONG.

    1. Ho odtn’ uyo eeerrmmb twese eclai ebblton,
       Etswe claei ihwt iahr os rnbwo;
       Esh pwte tiwh gdtheil hwne uoy aevg ehr a eimls
       Dan lteredmb hiwt aefr ta uyro wrfno.

    2. Hte peehtnla own esog urdon,
       Eht dnba gsiben ot aypl,
       Teh ybso aer daunor hte ykmeno gcea,
       U’oyd treebt ekpe ywaa.

    3. I aeddr eht yad u’yllo gftore em grreeiamtu
       Nda lilst i okwn ti oosn lwli ecmo,
       Het iteesvf aecdn, eht ihcr teh yga,
       Os fetfrdnei rmof rou emho umeegairrt.


ANSWERS TO CHARADES, ANAGRAMS, ETC.


_Charades._

    1. Eyelash.
    2. Independent.
    3. Teapot.
    4. Level.


_Anagrams._

    1. Conversion.
    2. Magnanimity.
    3. Surgeon.
    4. Termination.
    5. Pragmatical.
    6. Madrigal.
    7. Demonstratively.
    8. Dangerous.
    9. Annoyance.
    10. Phantasmagoria.


_Cross-word Enigmas._

    1. Sewing-machine.
    2. Saxifrage.
    3. London.
    4. Heliotrope.


_Numerical Enigmas._

    1. Helot.
    2. A soft answer turneth away wrath.
    3. Dandelion.
    4. Antelope.


_Decapitations._

    1. Brook, rook; 2, plane, lane; 3, wheel, heel, trout, rout.
    2. Pray, ray; 2, spell, pell; 3, skin, kin; 4, mother, other.
    3. 1, plover, lover; 2, blame, lame; 3, reel, eel; 4, mate, ate.
    4. 1. Spear, pear. 2. Mace, ace. 3. Galley, alley. 4. Goats, oats.


_Drop Letter Riddles._

    1. Why was Ruth rude to Boaz?
        Because she trod on his corns, and pulled his ears.
       2. She walked on earth,
          She talked on earth,
          She rebuked a man for sin;
          She’s not on earth,
          She’s not in heaven,
          Nor likely to get in.
       Balaam’s Ass.

    3. Why did Adam bite the apple Eve gave him?
       Because he had no knife.

    4. What did Adam first set in the Garden of Eden?
       His foot.

    5. Why are Adam and Eve an anomaly in grammar?
       Because they are two relatives without an antecedent.

    6. How did Noah dress his hair in the Ark?
       With the fox’s brush and the cock’s comb.


_Drop Letter Puzzles._

    1. Make hay while the sun shines.
    2. Early to bed and early to rise, makes men healthy, wealthy,
          and wise.
    3. Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise.
    4. Virtue alone is happiness below.


_The Opening Lines of Familiar Songs._

    1. “Oh! don’t you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt,
        Sweet Alice, with hair so brown;
        She wept with delight when you gave her a smile,
        And trembled with fear at your frown.”

    2. “The elephant now goes round,
          The band begins to play,
        The boys are around the monkey
          cage, You’d better keep away.”

    3. “I dread the day you’ll forget me, Marguerite,
        And still I know it soon will come.
        The festive dance, the rich, the gay,
      So different from our home, Marguerite.”


_Forfeits._

The exacting of forfeits for tardiness or failure in the playing of
games will usually lead to as much amusement as the games themselves.

Those who subject themselves to forfeiture may give a trivial article
just as satisfactorily as an expensive one, or they may simply write
their names on a slip of paper, and hand that to the person in charge.
Each player is bound to redeem his name.

At the conclusion of the game the host, or any individual he may
appoint (provided that person has no forfeits), collects all and puts
them out of sight of the audience, and commencing with the one at his
right, he takes the players in turn.

That party now sits down and the one in charge holding over his head
one of the trinkets or whatever the object may be, says: “What a jolly
thing! What a smart, pretty thing! What will the owner do?”

The party in the chair inquires, “Does it belong to a lady, or to a
gentleman?” He is at once answered correctly and then responds by
advising a difficult or ridiculous performance. The individual who owns
the forfeit must now perform what has been advised. As soon as the
party has redeemed his pledge, another forfeit is redeemed after the
same method, and so on, one by one, until all articles are returned to
their owners. Each forfeit is naturally redeemed amid peals of laughter.

The following may prove helpful to those who have to declare penalties.

1. Fold a piece of note-paper in the shape of a fish.

2. Say, Quizzical Quiz, sister Smith, five times running without
drawing a breath.

3. Count twenty backwards without smiling.

4. Mention five synonyms for the word, Jabber.

    (Chatter, gabble, mumble, prate, prattle.)

5. Repeat three times without a mistake:—

    David Daldron dreamed he drove a dragon,
    Did David Daldron dream he drove a dragon?
    If David Daldron dreamed he drove a dragon,
    Where’s the dragon David Daldron dreamed he drove?

6. Repeat the following lines twice,

    Oliver Ogilvie ogled an olive and oyster,
    Did Oliver Ogilvie ogle an olive and oyster?
    If Oliver Ogilvie ogled an olive and oyster
    Where is the olive and oyster Oliver Ogilvie ogled?

7. Touch the features while you solemnly recite,

    Here sits the Lord Mayor,                          forehead.
    Here sit his two men,                              eyes.
    Here sits the cock,                                right cheek.
    Here sits the hen,                                 left cheek.
    Here sits the little chickens,                     tip of nose.
    Here they run in,                                  the mouth.
    Chinchopper, chinchopper, chinchopper, chin!     Chuck the chin.

8. Repeat the alphabet similar to example.

    A was an archer, and shot at a frog,
    B was a butcher, and had a great dog.
    C was a captain, all covered with lace,
    D was a dunce with a very sad face.
    E was an esquire, with pride on his brow,
    F was a farmer and followed the plow.
    G was a gamester who had but ill luck,
    H was a hunter and hunted a buck.
    I was an innkeeper, who lov’d to house,
    J was a joiner, and built up a house.
    K was a king, so mighty and grand,
    L was a lady who had a white hand.
    M was a miser who hoarded up gold,
    N was a nobleman, gallant and bold.
    O was an oysterman, and went about town,
    P was a parson, and wore a black gown.
    Q was a quack with a wonderful pill,
    R was a robber, who wanted to kill.
    S was a sailor, and spent all he got,
    T was a tinker, and mended a pot.
    U was a usurer, a miserable elf,
    V was a vintner, who drank all himself.
    W was a watchman and guarded the door,
    X was expensive, and so became poor.
    Y was a youth, that did not love school,
    Z was a Zan, a poor, harmless fool.

9. Sing to the tune of “Oats, Pease, Beans and Barley grows.”

    Tom he was a piper’s son,
    He learned to play when he was young;
    But all the tune that he could play,
    Was “Over the hills and far away.”
    Now Tom with his pipe made such a noise,
    That he pleased both the girls and the boys,
    And they all stopped to hear him play
    Over the hills and far away.
    Tom with his pipe did play with such skill,
    That those who heard him could never stand still;
    Whenever they heard him they began to dance,
    Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.
    He met old Dame Trot with a basket of eggs,
    He used his pipe and she used her legs;
    She danced about till the eggs were all broke,
    She began to fret, but he laughed at the joke.
    He saw a cross fellow was beating an ass,
    Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes and glass;
    He took out his pipe and played them a tune,
    And the jackass’s load was lightened full soon.

10. Blow out a candle.

The candle is rapidly flashed before the person to blow it out. If
passed to and fro quick enough, it will afford much laughter before it
is blown out.

11. Stand on a chair and do just as you are bidden without laughing.

12. Put a cord on the floor where you cannot step over it.

(Put it against the wall.)

13. Put two chairs back to back and take off your shoes and jump over
them.

This is only a trick, you take off your shoes and jump over _them_, not
over the chairs.

14. Act the part of a dumb servant. If it is a lady who is redeeming
the forfeit, she must apply to a gentleman for a place, and if a
gentleman, he applies to a lady. Whoever is engaging the servant asks
seven questions, all of which are answered by dumb motions. Example:
How do you dust? How do you sew? How do you open the hall door? How do
you blacken boots? etc.

15. Ask a question that cannot be answered in the negative.

(The question is “What does Y E S spell?”)

16. Give a conundrum unfamiliar to all.

17. Dot and carry one.

(Hold your ankle while you walk across the room.)

18. Imitate a banjo player.

19. Dance a blind lanciers.

(Try this when a number of forfeits have to be redeemed. Eight people
are blindfolded and led to position. Another of the company plays the
lanciers. As those who are blindfolded will surely make ridiculous
errors, everybody will heartily laugh. This forfeit creates much
merriment.)

20. Make a three-minute address, in which every word commences with the
same letter.

21. Tell who wrote the Star Spangled Banner.

(Francis Scott Key.)

22. Tell who wrote Home Sweet Home.

(John Howard Payne.)

23. Tell who wrote the Battle Hymn of the Republic.

(Julia Ward Howe.)

24. Walk out of the room with two legs but walk back with six.

(When you return, bring a chair with you.)

25. Give numerical poetry.

Any verse that is familiar counting as example:

  Shuffle-Shoon (one) and (two) Amber-Locks (three)
  Sit (four) together (five) building (six) blocks (seven)
  Shuffle-Shoon (eight) is (nine) old (ten) and (eleven) gray (twelve)
  Amber-Locks (thirteen) a (fourteen) little (fifteen) child (sixteen)
  But (seventeen) together (eighteen) at (nineteen) their (twenty)
        play (twenty-one)
  Age (twenty-two) and (twenty-three) youth (twenty-four) are
        (twenty-five) reconciled (twenty-six)
  And (twenty-seven) with (twenty-eight) sympathetic (twenty-nine) glee
        (thirty)
  Build (thirty-one) their (thirty-two) castles (thirty-three) fair
        (thirty-four) to (thirty-five) see (thirty-six).

26. Spread out a newspaper and stand two persons on it, so that they
cannot possibly touch each other.

(To accomplish this put the newspaper on the floor, half on one side of
the door, and half on the other. A person stands on each piece, and the
door is shut between them.)

27. Sing one of the topical songs.

28. Sing the scale backwards.

29. Draw a picture of a bicycle race.

30. Build a house with cards.

31. Sew a hem.

32. Repeat rapidly either of the following tongue twisters.

    Susan shineth shoes and socks; socks and shoes shines
    Susan. She ceaseth shining shoes and socks, for shoes
    and socks shock Susan.

    Strict, strong Stephen Stringer snared six sickly silky
    snakes.

    Swan swam over the sea; swim, swan, swim; swan swam
    back again; well swum swan.

    Six thick thistle sticks.

    Flesh of freshly fried flying fish.

    Give Grimes Jim’s great gilt gig whip.



IN THE ADIRONDACKS.


It was the last week of July, and the guests of a certain hotel,
located amidst the pine and balsam of the famed Adirondack wilderness,
were thrown into a flutter of excitement.

It had been steadily raining for three days and nights, and now that
the fourth day was nearing its close a golden light appeared in the
west. The mirror-like surface of the lake before the hotel rapidly
revealed the many shades of crimson red and deep gold, while fleecy
clouds of pink and white merged into deeper tints.

Every one was on the piazza, called there by an enthusiast to witness
the beauty of it all. Every face smiled because the long storm was over
at last, and there seemed a promise of radiant sunshine for to-morrow.

Suddenly a voice from the north piazza called to a young gentleman who
had been walking about with a rather dissatisfied air, “I hear wheels.
Now for the excitement of an arrival.”

It was only the waiting of a few moments, and two bay horses, much
bespattered with mud and mire, drew the heavily built two-seated surrey
to the hotel steps.

Guests stood about by twos and threes, most of them with half-averted
faces, not willing to openly show the inquisitive feeling that each
possessed. However, many furtive glances were cast. Perhaps among the
most searching, were those given by the dissatisfied young man.

“Permit me, madam.” It was the proprietor’s voice, as he aided a
tall, fair-skinned, stern and aristocratic-looking matron to alight,
assisting her meanwhile to unfasten her travelling cloak, which had
caught on a nail in the end of a seat. The lady slowly remarked, as her
feet touched the horse block. “That nail has been rather too much in
evidence.”

By the matron’s side a young lady had sat. This fact had been observed
by all the guests, before they had turned their heads away, and now
that she too had left the carriage, her golden hair and soft hazel
eyes were mentally remarked, as also her graceful carriage and elegant
tailor-made gown.

The proprietor, lifting one of the hand-satchels, leaving the umbrellas
and other small luggage for the porter, led the way to the office.

Then they hastily entered, and a few minutes later walked through the
dimly-lighted corridor, for it was not yet dark enough to illuminate.

“I reckon that girl has never been in the woods before,” said the
dissatisfied man to his friend. For now, side by side, he and a young
fellow about thirty strode slowly up and down, exchanging confidences
and chatting in a desultory fashion.

“She does not seem to the manner born, that’s a fact,” said the other,
“but she’s an interesting type, and probably an addition to our house
party.” He turned an interested face towards his friend and said:
“There’s far more the flavor of Narragansett Pier or Bar Harbor about
her than of the woods, or she may have come from Saratoga. We’ll not
have to wait long to see, or I’m not a correct judge, but her mother
may prove a formidable chaperon.”

The mother and daughter, for their relationship was at once identified,
some one having accommodatingly referred to the register, and reported
information to the others, were not long in reappearing, and the young
men, still walking back and forth, were not surprised to discover that
their prediction was correct.

“Maud, dear, how shall you exist here?” were the half-petulant words
overheard as the mother languidly seated herself.

“It will not be Saratoga, I confess. But isn’t that lake enchanting?”
The girl’s face was very fair and bewitchingly amiable.

“Yes, it is pretty. But shall you ever forget our trip to this hotel?
Such roads!”

Maud met her mother’s questioning eyes, then noting a middle-aged woman
approaching them, with face full of kindly greeting, waited.

“You are strangers,” were this lady’s first words, adding as she
reached forth her hand: “I fear you will feel lonely and tired, after
the long drive.”

The mother at once extended her hand. Then the lady asked the girl,
“Have you ever been in the woods before?”

“Never, and my mother fears I shall not like it. It did seem lonely,
the last drive through the pines,” and the sensitive mouth quivered
ever so slightly, as she explained. “The drive up was so long, the
roads so thickly wooded, and here,” with a half-frightened glance
about, as though she feared a fox or a bear would cross the walk before
her, “you have only the lake.”

Without a word the lady laughed merrily, but hastily checked herself.
“I promise you that if you will only join in our sports you will find
that there is much here besides the lake. Though,” coyly scanning her,
“the lake has its amusements, fishing, boating. Oh, the gentlemen here
will be delighted to introduce you to it.”

Maud’s mother looked both surprised and confused. The lady continued,
as though she noted her not. “You will find the camps about the
lake quite as entertaining as Saratoga’s Floral Fête, or indeed any
fashionable watering-place amusement.”

“Camps? I don’t quite understand,” Maud’s mother remarked, with a
touch of bitterness in her tone, for the darkening wood about, now that
night was coming fast, made her slow to relent. It was strange she had
chosen to come to such a spot.

“I think one has to visit these camps to understand,” the lady
explained. “But you will always find them hospitable, furnishing
afternoon tea every day you care to call. And some days there are
special _fêtes_, full of pleasant surprises, when amusements such as
the thimble game and proverbs are played, at which prizes are sometimes
offered as an added incentive. Last season the hostess of one of the
camps gave a children’s party. There happened to be a few here that
year, for children are a rarity in the Adirondacks. Of course their
parents, uncles, aunts and cousins came, too. That entertainment has
been talked about ever since. The party opened with the wild flower
hunt. Small bouquets had been hidden among the balsam boughs, low
enough for the little ones to reach; others were behind bushes or
rocks. These bouquets were made up of clover, daisies and wild roses.
Whichever child found the most wild roses received a prize.

“This amusement was followed by the hunt for Cinderella’s Slipper. The
successful one at this game also received a prize. After this, the
hostess invited all the children into the balsam-covered lean-to, and
told them a story about the old man of Humbug Mountain. Humbug Mountain
towers just behind, you notice the tallest mountain over there, don’t
you?” and the lady motioned to the left, as they faced the lake.

“Yes, but what has reddened the trees so? Why, mother, did you ever see
anything as beautiful?” and while pronouncing the word “beautiful,”
Maud’s countenance was full of delight.

“That is the afterglow,” the lady replied, but not waiting for further
remark, she continued: “I was telling you about the old man of Humbug
Mountain. The hostess explained to the children that sometimes he
visited her camp, and when he did so he whistled, and that if he should
whistle that afternoon, she would take the children back of the lean-to
to see him. At that very moment a whistle clear and shrill was heard,
and the children, already enamoured with the story, could scarcely
be sufficiently restrained to allow the hostess to proceed. When the
laughing, curious children ran behind the lean-to, sure enough, as had
been promised, there was an old man. He was standing on a table. It was
a dwarf skilfully arranged by two people.”

“Oh that was it?” Maud interrupted, for she had listened intently, and
was apparently as eager to discover the identity of the old man of
Humbug Mountain, as had been the children of the party, and then she
added: “I happen to know about that, for I was part of a dwarf once,”
and with a wise little shake of her head explained, “It is arranged by
two people.”

“Yes, and is it not capital?”

“Fine, when it is well done,” and Maud who was already feeling at home
with her companion, added: “And of course the dwarf from the mountain
would be well done.”

“Indeed he was. He told short, witty stories, laughed, danced and
capered to the children’s great delight. They would clap their hands
for joy. It was a rare sight for the grown-ups to watch the color
come and go in their expressive faces, their fluffy curls and tangle
of waves and braids tumbling about as the little girls shook with
laughter, and some of the boys were even more amusing than the girls,
because they looked so earnest, even solemn, in their efforts to find
an explanation for the old man. One little chap said he would get his
father to carry his rifle now all the time, because they might meet
the old man sometimes when he wouldn’t feel as jolly, and what then?
In fact he was about certain he had seen the old man one day stealing
away behind a big stump, and even some of the children laughed when he
explained: ‘It was the very same day, that I almost saw a black bear.
I could hear him growl. I tell you I ran! Like as not there was a fox
too, or a wild cat?”

“Well, after the dwarf exhibition, there were refreshments at which the
children toasted marshmallows and popped corn.”

“Why, after all, Maud,” said her mother, thawing out suddenly, “I fancy
you may like it here. There seem to be things going on.”

“_Like_ it,” quoted the lady. “No one ever wants to go home when she
once gets a taste of Adirondack life. It is like the hounds following
the deer. People take to the woods.”

Suddenly there sounded through the hall the first measures of an
orchestra.

“The music has begun, and I must dress,” said Miss Friend-in-Need,
noting the questioning glance between mother and daughter. “That music
is a signal to-night. A few of us give a part of the Midsummer Night’s
Dream this evening, in the parlor, and we are to costume ourselves as
far as possible before supper.

“What fun we’ve had getting the affair up! You may not know that it has
simply poured here for days and days, but we’ve laughed until we’ve
cried at our rehearsals, and so have scarcely been troubled by rain.

“You’ll surely come to the first and last performance of this wonderful
company, will you not?” and walking away, the lady looked over her
shoulder for an answer. And having won a reply in the affirmative, the
lady rapidly hurried to her room.

After supper, as Maud’s mother took her seat, to which she was shown by
a young man acting as usher, she noticed the parlor had been lavishly
trimmed with boughs of green. There was also a tiny wood adjoining the
stage, made of small balsam trees.

“I suppose,” she remarked to her daughter, “they went out between the
drops and gathered them.” And then both ladies interestedly noticed the
guests, as one after the other, with an air of expectancy, entered.

Programmes were passed and eagerly scanned.

It was indeed a gala night. Had Maud and her mother known the various
performers, it would have greatly added to their entertainment, but
as it was, they could not help adding their applause to that of the
others. Even though Maud was a stranger, the joyous shouts of laughter
proved too contagious to be altogether resisted, and indeed before the
performance was over, close contact with these merry people made Maud
feel as though she was one of them, so quickly does one touch of nature
make the whole world kin.

As the programme indicated the different characters, they were
carefully read, and many ejaculations were overheard, such as: “Oh,
that’s Isabel’s character,” and “Why, Carl Adams will be a sight,
he’s such a swell, you know. How did such an exquisite ever consent to
humble himself in this way?”

To Maud and her mother, however, all were strangers, with the one
exception of the proprietor of the hotel, but they very soon learned
the names of the people about them. Besides, as Maud’s mother very
truly said, “Without it I am not positive that I could remember who the
different ones are in the piece, as it is a long time since I have read
the Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Therefore, while waiting for the first
scene, they read:

    THESEUS, Duke of Athens,
          _Proprietor of the hotel_.

    EGEUS, Father to Hermia,
          _Mr. A——_.

    LYSANDER, }
    DEMETRIUS,}  in love with Hermia,
          _Mr. C—— and Mr. H——_.

    PHILOSTRATE, Master of the revels to Theseus,
          _Mr. T——_.

    QUINCE, a carpenter,
          _Master Carl Adams_.

    SNUG, a joiner,
          _Master John Jones_.

    BOTTOM, a weaver,
          _Mr. Sam S——_.

    FLUTE, a bellows-mender,
          _Mr. Ralph R——_.

    SNOUT, a tinker,
          _Master Diedrick Delk_.

    STARVELING, a tailor,
          _Mr. Percy P——_.

    HIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons, betrothed to Theseus,
          _Miss Genevieve B——_.

    HERMIA, daughter to Egeus, in love with Lysander,
          _Mrs. Ralph R——_.

    HELENA, in love with Demetrius,
          _Mrs. Sam S——_.

    OBERON, King of the fairies,
          _Mr. James D——_.

    TITANIA, Queen of the fairies,
          _Miss Isabel M——_.

    PUCK, or Robin Goodfellow,
          _Master Alexander Marvin_.

    PEASEBLOSSOM,}
    COBWEB,      }  Fairies,
    MOTH,        }
    MUSTARDSEED, }
          _The Misses Wilson, Bruce, Sim, Conger._

    Other fairies attending their King and Queen,
      _Misses Kate W——, Fanny T——, Eva M——_.

    Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta,
      _Masters Goodwin, Bartlett, Carrington and Scott._

As Maud’s mother inquired when in the seclusion of their own
apartments, “Did you really like it so very much?”

Maud answered laughing, “More than I can express.”

The following morning it was a question, “What would be the proper
costume for breakfast?”

From one of their windows they had a partial view of the lake, but
from the other nothing but tall trees met their eyes. Pines were in
abundance, but there was an occasional hemlock, spruce, birch and maple.

“It is summer. Would you think that this white organdy would do?” asked
Maud, and the frock, apparently only a cloud of Valenciennes lace, was
held towards her mother.

“Do? I am sure I don’t know what is considered correct for such a
wilderness, but you might not be warm enough. I fancy it is cold
outdoors.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ll wear,” said the young lady presently, for she
had a wonderful conception of color values, and knew what would look
best with her dark eyes, and also what would produce the most fetching
effect, should she be able to induce her mother to walk among the
trees after breakfast. “I am going to put on my crimson piqué, bodice
and all,” for she had several waists that could be worn with the same
skirt, and as her quick eyes looked over the guests at breakfast, she
was not sorry the decision had been against the organdy.

“All night my dreams were of the entertainment,” said Maud, as, sitting
opposite her mother, she tried to pour the cream into her coffee. “It
is almost too thick to stir. Did you ever see such cream?” she said.

“I never saw thicker. And this trout is delicious. It would be singular
indeed if I were won to this place. But, Maud, tell me about your
dream, dear.”

“Oh, I dreamed of Titania and Oberon, Queen and King of the fairies,
you know. I could see the airy things moving over the green. It was
Midsummer-Night’s Dream truly, for I dreamed of the pretty piece, and
isn’t this Midsummer?”

“Why, Maud! I fancy you slept well. Perhaps you’ll be surprised to
learn that I too dreamed of our evening’s pleasure.”

“Surprised! Yes, indeed!” and Maud’s eyes sought her mother’s. “What
part did you dream about?”

“I think it is the opening of the second act, when the fairy replies to
Puck,

    Over hill, over dale,
      Thorough bush, thorough brier,
    Over park, over pale,
      Thorough flood, thorough fire,
        I do wander everywhere.

You remember how it goes, don’t you?”

“Perfectly; and didn’t that fairy look lovely? I am sure I shall be
glad to know her. But Puck I am not as sure about.”

“Could you pass me the rolls, Maud?”

“Certainly, take that one,” and Maud turned the plate so that her
mother could have a temptingly brown roll.

“And now,” continued her mother, as she contentedly broke the roll
open, “tell me more about your dream.”

“You know towards the close, Oberon and Titania entered with their
train.”

“Do you mean where Oberon sings,

    Though the house gives glimmering light,
    By the dead and drowsy fire,
    Every elf and fairy sprite,

And so on?”

“Yes, those are the very words. And didn’t Titania have a sweet voice?
I hope she’ll sing often. I am sure everybody must enjoy listening to
her. I thought this beautiful:

    First rehearse your song by rote,
    To each word a warbling note.
    Hand in hand with fairy grace,
    Will we sing and bless this place.”

As Maud said, “bless this place,” the lady who had welcomed Maud and
her mother the evening before was walking past their table, and having
overheard the words, she stopped.

“Just what I like to hear.” Then mischievously looking at Maud’s
mother. “But I did not expect the woods to have won so much enthusiasm
already, did you?”

“No, I did not,” and the mother’s lip unbent into a sunny smile. “But
there is no telling what we may both say yet.”

“This fish breakfast has been delicious, and besides everybody looks
rested and cheery.”

“That is just the point; no one can help being rested, because
midnight-oil is unknown here and how can people help being cheery, when
this bracing air is a tonic; And besides we have so many delightful
sports. There are to be charades, and rollicking games, such as Twirl
the Platter, and Going to Jerusalem, this evening, and to-day there
are several things on hand. One is a driving and riding party. All the
young people, with two chaperones, are going over to the next hotel to
dinner. By the way, do you ride?”

And Maud, whose face was flushed with the memory of her many pleasant
hours on horseback, answered, “I could ride almost forever.”

“Then you are the very young lady we want,” and turning to Maud’s
mother, “I’m to be one of the chaperones. I’ll promise to bring her
home safe. There is a fine saddle-horse waiting to be ridden, and——a
fine young man, who is in despair because every one but himself has a
riding companion. He is a New York lawyer. May I introduce him?” were
her words, as the trio left the breakfast-room together.

The answer must have been “Yes,” because, an hour later, one dowager
said to another, “Did you hear that new girl, that airish creature with
the golden hair, and sleepy-looking dark eyes, who came just before
supper last evening, has gone off horseback riding with the one we
called ‘the dissatisfied young man?’ He seems to be perfectly satisfied
now. I suppose neither of our daughters was good enough for him.”



THE FLOWER-TEST.


The postman rapped at my door, and presently the trim little maid
brought me a big square letter on a tray. I knew that hand. Nobody but
Penelope writes in that scraggly style, plain, too, as a pikestaff, and
easy to read. “Darling Gertrude,” she began, “I am about to plead for a
visit. It seems a little bit of forever since I saw you and I want you
here in my country house where we’ll have time to enjoy one another,
talk of the past and present tenses to our hearts’ content, and perhaps
plan a happy future.

“Let me tell you whom you’ll meet: Mr. and Mrs. Burkhardt,—you remember
that sweet little girl bride who succeeded so well in blinding us—at
first; dear old General Bolton, and his youngest brother, who paints
almost as well as he talks; pretty Elsie Sterling and my cousin Bob.
You see I put them together, but so would you if you could look out
of my window and see them now. Bob has just mounted Elsie on White
Baron, and now as I write the words he’s up on Caper and off they
go. Well—we’ll borrow White Baron and Caper later on, you and I, and
perhaps as we canter along side by side we may feel ourselves back
again,—back—how many years? Never mind, we’ll not count. The years have
been happy to us both, I hope.

“But you’ll come—you must not say _no_, remember. Cordially your friend,

                                                 “Penelope T. Gerard.”

Indeed I would not say “No.” I would arrange and rearrange my summer
plans to meet Penelope once more.

It was scarce three years since I last saw her. She was then a bride
of but two months and I spent three days with her just as I was
leaving for Germany. During the interval our letters were more or less
frequent, and so in a way we each kept track of the other and felt as
close friends as we had been since our childhood.

So it was with infinite pleasure I wrote an acceptance.

“The Maples” is an unpretending rambling sort of a house, with piazzas,
and “corners,” and nooks where one would least expect them. There is
no rhyme or reason to the architecture, and an architect would shake
his head in sad consternation. However, if he were told that three
generations of Gerards had idled their summers happily away within
and without its walls, and that each owner had added his share to the
original pile, perhaps the exact architect would turn his critical
smile to one of content and count himself fortunate to be allowed to
enter this abode of happiness.

It was a sunny day when I first drove up the long maple-lined driveway
and there on the lawn, close to the entrance, was Penelope making tea
and laughing one of her old merry laughs as the General stood before
her. I suppose he was telling her one of his funny stories. I don’t
know, for of course I only saw them a moment before the carriage
stopped, and once more Penelope and I were together.

The General had known us both as girls, and soon we were talking over
old faces and scenes, and it seemed as though we had never been parted.
The rest of the party had gone for a long drive and would not be back
until seven o’clock. So we three talked on and on.

“Oh, it does seem so good to be here, Pen,” I said, and added, “As I
came up the driveway, the first thing I heard was your laugh. You know
how mamma used to like to hear you laugh.”

“Yes, I remember how irrepressible I was. But, Trudy, you too would
have laughed if you’d heard the General hang me.”

“Hang you?”

“Why, yes. Don’t you know the game?” Then seeing my bewilderment, she
went on. “You must learn it. It’s fine for two people. Especially when
one gets short of subjects to talk about.”

Here General Bolton threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Short
of subjects to talk about! I guess Trudy would as soon believe the
Atlantic had gone dry as to think your nimble tongue was ever still.
No, indeed! On the contrary, Trudy, she was bound she would make me
let out a secret, and I, old fool, would probably have fallen into her
trap, only she warned me by—but never mind how she warned me, or even
that will fail me next time. So I hung her. Yes, I caught her well.”
Then with a chuckle. “Tell her how, Pen, you know best how, for you
know you were _hung_, and well hung.” And again he laughed.

“That’s true. But try me again sometime, or rather, I’ll try you and
we’ll see who does the _hanging_. No, not now, you need not look so
eager.”

“Bah, you’re afraid.”

“No, indeed I am not. Just now however I mean to take Gertrude and show
her where her room is. She has been ever so patient.”

“But, my dear, please explain first about the _hanging_. It sounds so
sanguinary.”

“Well, it is. Now listen and I’ll explain, and then we’ll go indoors.
‘To hang a person with a word,’ is the name of the game. You take any
word you like in your mind and simply mention the number of letters it
has. The other party has to guess, by letters, without making twelve
misses. If she fails to guess without twelve wrong guesses, she is
_hung_ as I was. That doesn’t seem very clear to you, I suppose.”

“Well, not exactly.”

“I’ll take a word and show you. Now, General, I did not mean to give
you your battle now. But you may have it if you’re ready.”

“Steady, fire.”

“All right.” Then she whispered to me the word “Eyelet.”

“Well, I’ll hang you, General Bolton, with a word of six letters.”

“Bah, that’s easy. First, I’ll guess L.”

“Right. It has fourth place.” Then she explained to me, “You have to
tell the position of the letter.”

“M.”

“Wrong. That’s one. You help me keep count, Trudy. Remember, twelve
wrong guesses and I’ve hung him.”

“A.”

“Wrong. That makes two.”

“E.”

“Right. First place.”

“I.”

“Wrong. Three.”

“O.”

“Wrong. You see he’s trying the vowels. How many does that make?”

“Four.”

“Oh, you girls need not look so jubilant; four doesn’t make much. I’ll
guess U, next.”

“Five,” we both shouted.

“Well, T.”

“Right, and sixth place.”

“An e, an l, and a t. Let me see. Any n’s in it?”

“No. That makes six. Oh, we have you, General, that is half the number.”

“The battle is not won yet; no, nor lost yet. Well, I’ll guess G.”

“Seven.”

He looked down at the grass and drummed his fingers on his knee, then
said, “D.”

“Eight.”

“An e, an l, and a t. That’s a queer combination when all the other
vowels are out. Holloa! Is there another e?”

“Yes. Third place.”

“Oh, and another l?”

“Nine.”

“I hope this word is in the English language?”

“Oh, yes. It is English and it is used to-day, but a generation back it
was used more frequently.”

“A generation back! Bah!” and he straightened himself and rising strode
back and forth with his hands clasped back of him. “I have it! That is,
I am pretty certain. Has a y, hasn’t it?”

“Yes—second place.”

“Eyelet!” he shouted. “Bah, you thought you had me. Well, you almost
did. Those pesky vowels were at fault.”

“Never mind, I’ll hang you yet. I have another word in mind. But not
to-day. Come, Gertrude. You see it all now, I guess, and we must hurry
in, or Will and the others will be back before we are ready for dinner.
Good-bye for a time, General. Look to your guns. I shall be after you
again.”


II.

Breakfast was more than half over, some mornings later, when in came
Bob and Irving Bolton. A chorus of “Fie, fie,” greeted them, and Elsie
Sterling shook her fingers threateningly as Bob explained, “Pen, don’t
be hard on a fellow. Irving and I talked too late, I suppose, last
night. At any rate I know I should never have turned up this morning
only that he yelled across to me that lunch was most ready. And then he
loitered to help me share the blame of our lateness. Hey, old fellow?”
and he looked across at Irving as he slid into the vacant place between
Elsie and Mrs. Burkhardt.

“You are both rascals, both of you,” growled the General. “Burkhardt
and I have been up hours and have planned the finest sort of a day for
the rest of you ungrateful ones. Shall we tell them, Burkhardt?”

Before Mr. Burkhardt had a chance to reply, Penelope interposed, “Let
me try and guess.”

“All right, Mrs. Gerard, but you’ll have to try twenty questions or
some such game or you’ll not hit it. It’s a fine scheme.” And Ned
Burkhardt nodded triumphantly while he put a piece of buttered toast on
his wife’s plate.

“I’ll guess just once, and without the help of twenty questions either.
It’s a picnic.”

“Bah!” exclaimed the General. “You overheard, or somebody told you.”

“Perhaps I did, or perhaps that omnipresent ‘little bird’ chirped it in
my ear. But, at any rate, it’s a fine idea. What say the rest of you?”

“Just the thing. Fine,” was the reply.

“How shall we go, Will, and where?”

“Oh, let’s go to Sylvan Grove. It is only ten miles. Let me see. Two of
you can ride horseback.

“Will you and Irving ride, Gertrude? And, Burkhardt, you and madame and
Elsie and Bob might take the buckboard, and we three old fogies—pardon
me, General,—will follow on with the provisions. Will that suit, Penel?”

“All right. And now let’s get ready. Can you all start in three
quarters of an hour?”

“Yes, indeed.”

Promptly we all sallied forth, and it was a merry party. The air was
perfect, and Irving, Bolton and I cantered on ahead, and finding
ourselves far in advance, we turned and rode across country for a few
miles.

It was a perfect day, and the picnic was a perfect success. At dinner
that night we voted it as the best day yet.

“Well, to-morrow is the golf tournament, you know,” said Will, and
turning to his wife, he added, “Didn’t you say there was a dinner on
too?”

“Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Dear old Mrs. Preston asked us all to
dinner.” Turning towards me she said, “You remember at our tea, the day
after you came, a white-haired lady accompanied by her granddaughter?”

“Yes, indeed I do. I think you said she lives in that gray stone house
we passed to-day.”

“Yes, that is the one. It’s a lovely house too—and such china! Why,
Mrs. Burkhardt, she has a willow set that would make your mouth water.
Perhaps we’ll see it.”

Then turning swiftly, for dinner was over and we were just leaving the
room, “Listen, all of you, please. To-morrow night at Mrs. Preston’s,
and next night nowhere. It is Gertrude’s last night here and let’s
spend it all alone,” and having made her little speech she slipped her
arm around my waist and we went out together.

We passed through one of the French windows, out on the piazza, and sat
there late into the night. Snatches of conversation came to us again
and again, and Mrs. Burkhardt’s sweet soprano as she and Elsie sang
together, while Irving accompanied on the mandoline. But we, Penelope
and I, remained alone, each happy in the other.

The last night came, as all “last nights” must, and with it, “in
sympathy with our mood,” was the General’s courteous construction, came
a heavy, moaning storm. Will poked the fire and piled on the logs as
though a blizzard were raging without. Finally, he paused and said,
“I guess, Pen, dear, you may have your wish. No one will disturb our
family serenity this night.”

How cosy it seemed and how happy all appeared. Elsie and Mrs.
Burkhardt, Irving and Bob were playing checkers in the next room. Ned
and Penelope were talking about dogs and horses and comparing their
relative intelligence. The General was looking over some foreign
photographs, while Will and I bestowed our attention on the fire.

“Truly,” spoke General Bolton, “did you ever get up early enough to see
Covent Garden Market in its glory!”

“Oh, General, do you mean to infer absolute laziness, or do you mean
that the gray gloom of London would forbid an early awakening?”

“Never mind what I inferred. Did you ever go to the market—early?”

“Strange as it may seem to you, I did. I went one morning to Covent
Garden Market, and early, about six o’clock, with an English girl. It
was a wonderful sight.”

“See,” he interrupted, “it was this picture of a costermonger with the
palms and ferns that made me ask you.”

“It is very natural—the little donkey, the barrow and all. And how very
cheap the plants and flowers are—why that morning I bought for sixpence
as many moss roses and buds as I could carry.”

“Gertrude, did you ever see that?” And Will gave me a printed slip that
he had been searching for in his pocketbook. It was called the Floral
Test.

“No, but isn’t it good? Let’s ask the others the questions and see who
can answer the most.”

“Come, all you people,” called Will, and he stepped over to the next
room. “Aren’t you tired of checkers? Gertrude has a new game.”

When all were seated around expectantly he said: “Now, Gertrude, you
ask the questions and we’ll reply. It is called,” he explained, “the
Floral Test. She’ll ask questions and we’ll give answers in the names
of flowers.”

“Tell me the name of a maiden, and the color of her hair.”

“Maria-gold,” shouted Irving.

“Good for you, old fellow. How did you know?” questioned Bob.

“O here,” and young Bolton tapped his forehead significantly.

“What adjective fitted her and what was her brother’s name?”

All were silent until Mrs. Burkhardt timidly said, “Is it
Sweet-William?”

“That’s right. Now try this,—What was his favorite sport in winter?”

“That’s easy. Snowball,” and Bob threw his handkerchief at Will, who
sharply returned it.

“Ned, what was his favorite instrument?”

“Is it the trumpet?”

“That is right. Can you tell me, Elsie, at what hour he awoke his
father by playing on it?”

“Four o’clock.”

“Yes, and what did his father apply to him?”

“A golden-rod,” two or three shouted.

“What office did his father occupy in the church?”

All seemed puzzled. Finally Elsie said, “Was it elder?”

“Right. What was the young man’s name, and what did he write it with?”

“That is a poser, Trudy. You’ll have to tell them, I guess,” suggested
Will.

“Jonquil, don’t you see?”

“Bah!” exclaimed the General, while the others laughed.

“Irving, what candy do you usually buy?”

“He doesn’t know,” said Will, “but wait a moment and I’ll show you
some,” and he went to a closet and brought back a box of buttercups.

“Well, what did John do when he popped the question?”

“Aster,” yelled the General.

“That is correct, General. See if you can tell what ghastly trophy he
offered her.”

“Oh, that is easy. A bleeding heart.”

“Well, what did she say as John knelt before her?”

“Why, Johnny-jump-up, of course.”

“That’s right. You are fine at this game, General. Can you tell me what
minister married them?”

“Oh, Jack-in-the-Pulpit,” exclaimed Penelope.

“What did she wear in her hair?”

“Bridal-wreath.”

“What flowers bloomed in her cheeks?”

“Roses.”

“What did John say when obliged to leave her for a time?”

“Forget-me-not.”

“That is all. It is a fine game, Will. Where did you find it?”

“Oh, I came across it in a paper, and I know Pen likes that sort of
thing, so I cut it out. But I forgot all about it until you two were
talking over Covent Garden and the early market.”

“I think I can add one to that list of questions,” and Penelope arose
and, drawing me up by the hand, said, “What flower should we put in the
candle tray at night?”

“Poppy,” came the quick reply, and Bob quoted,

    The Rock-a-bye lady
      From Hush-a-bye street,
    The poppies they hang
      From her head to her feet.

“—— oh, I say, Pen,” he called, as we were on the stairs, “what shall
we all do when Gertrude leaves us?”

“Do you mean that as a Floral Test question?”

“Yes.”

“I know what I’ll do, but I don’t know any flower or plant to describe
it.”

“Why, Penelope, we’ll all balsam.”



HOURS WITH THE POETS.


“Felicia Hemans was an American, born ‘down East’ somewhere; I think in
the same section Nora Perry hails from,” was the startling announcement
uttered in my hearing, by a “sweet girl graduate” of so short time ago
as June, 1892.

“Pardon contradiction,” I called from my end of the library, “but
Felicia Hemans was an Englishwoman, and her birthplace was Liverpool.”

The surprise the above incident created caused my own thought to revert
to the honored and beloved poets who have so lately left us, as well as
to the mighty revered army, from Chaucer down, who have more or less an
abiding-place in our hearts.

And then followed another thought,—would it not be a wise use of time
for some of us to study the lives and works of these poets, the minor
as well as the more prominent ones, and so save ourselves from similar
ludicrous blunders as the one above given?

And particularly do I appeal to the young girls just out; but even
the busy schoolgirl would have the opportunity if she would only
systematically arrange her work. Afternoon classes might be formed, or
evening ones if preferred; the latter would have the advantages, as
then the big brothers might come. Simple refreshments, too, would not
jar on harmony, but rather tend to sociability. These could be provided
by the hostess, for the girls should take turns in having the class
meet at each house. It would also be found to be a benefit to have a
president and secretary for such a class, or, if an old person could be
gotten, popular and wise enough to take charge, that would prove still
more satisfactory.

It is quite the fashion now to be a member of a dancing class, why not
be a member of a poets’ class, and so take care of your head as well as
your heels? Indeed, classes are the “order of the day,” for language,
music, riding, cooking, wood-carving, needlework, indeed everything,
and the young girls or boys who may read this sketch certainly want to
be into things as well as their fellows.

In these hours with the poets, take a different poet for each time
the class meets. Before the close of one meeting decide on who will
be the next one taken up. For example, will it be Keats, Saxe, Bayard
Taylor, or Jean Ingelow? That settled, name who will be the one to
give a biographical sketch of the poet. This may be in the form of an
original paper, or read directly from an encyclopedia. Also name two or
more members to read or recite poems from the poet under consideration.
Discussion and criticism should be freely allowed, and unanswerable
questions should be always answered at the next meeting before entering
on the new poet. It would save time to have the hostess answer the
questions left from the week before, as she could have numerous books
at hand, and of necessity would be present.

Do not say this is too difficult a task. Nothing is too difficult for
those who try.

And do not think such study and hours are unnecessary. If you do, find
out how many of your classmates can at once answer whom Ben Jonson
adopted as his poetical son? He was a pastoral lyrist, and left behind
him thirteen hundred poems. He was a bachelor, though he lived to be
eighty-four years of age. He was born at Cheapside, London, in 1591,
and died in 1674, at Dean Prior, which living was presented to him, for
at times he was very poor. His name was Robert Herrick.

Or does my reader know that Thomas Gray was a close student of Dryden,
or that the author of the first important body of English sonnets
was the romantic hero, Sir Philip Sidney, and that he died when but
thirty-two years of age, having been conspicuous at the court of
Elizabeth, was a soldier of great promise, a leading statesman, and has
a prominent place in history?



“THANK YOU!”


“I sent her a basket of fruit for Christmas. The basket was of the
finest Chinese straw, and decorated with handsome pale green satin
ribbon; and the fruit, Bartlett pears, mandarins, and white grapes; but
she has not acknowledged it by either verbal or written thanks.”

“Perhaps she never received it,” was the reply.

“I know that she did, for my daughter called one day and recognized the
basket, which stood on the table in the hall through which she passed.”

“Well, but you know she is a very busy woman.”

“That is no excuse. People may be ever so busy, but they should not
forget decent courtesy. Indeed, my experience has been that the
busy people are, oftener than otherwise, the most polite people. My
theory is, they do not allow themselves to rust in any direction;
duty should be done, and is done. If an individual cannot take time
to thank a friend for a Christmas gift, next year that friend may not
take time to give one. I am sure it is not the question of time; it
is the question of knowledge or carelessness. There are people who
really don’t know enough to be polite; and others know, but are too
indifferent to take the trouble, forgetting that their conduct reflects
most disagreeably upon themselves. One would think a kind heart might
dictate, if common-sense did not. But I suppose some people have
neither common-sense nor kindness of heart.”

Overhearing the above conversation, the listener was reminded of a
similar instance lately experienced in her own life. A letter had
been written, which had honorably adjusted a money complication that
concerned the gentleman to whom she wrote and a society which he
represented, but did not concern or reflect upon the writer in the
smallest degree excepting for the goodwill she bore her friend, and
yet for this same letter she did not receive one word of thanks—not
even the acknowledgment of its ever having been received. That it _was_
received was later proved by a printed report that it would have been
impossible to set in order without it.

The examples given are by no means rare and peculiar, but may be
duplicated over and over by every intelligent person. And in this age
of letters, when printed matter was never so reasonable, and when
teachers and schools may be really had “without money and without
price,” when lectures on all topics are inexpensively if not, indeed,
freely given, where is the excuse for knowledge not to be the power of
all? It would almost seem as if even those indifferently educated could
not help but have learned to say “thank you,” or to acknowledge by pen
or voice any accommodation, help, or present.

Blood is sure to tell, and with Emerson we say that “man is physically
as well as metaphysically a thing of shreds and patches, borrowed
unequally from good and bad ancestors.” To those of gentle blood,
rudeness would be impossible. If there are partial lapses of manner
with those looked upon as the refined, the question is asked, “Where
does she get that trait?” and possibly the answer may be, “Her
great-grandmother.” For thus are the sins visited upon the children
of even the third and fourth generations. The deportment of the real
gentleman or woman can never be unpleasantly criticised. They could not
be ungracious, no matter how hard they should try. If there is ever a
question about how far politeness should extend, err on the side of too
much rather than that of too little. Have too much manner rather than
not enough. Be too profuse in thanks rather than too scant and meagre.

When a gift has been received or a courtesy of any kind shown you, at
once acknowledge it, unless you are too ill so to do, or a positively
important matter prevents. If it is impossible to write to the one you
are indebted to that day, do it the next. But as it is so easy for most
of us to have good intentions, do not put off for to-morrow what should
be done to-day.

The note should not be long, but heartily and pleasantly worded. Some
people might reflect, “I would not tell a falsehood, and how can I say
I like a thing if I do not?” Or, as happened lately, two boxes of wild
flowers were sent me from California by two little boys, with a note in
one of the boxes containing the words, “Which flowers got to you best,
Pierre’s or mine?” and I was obliged to at once put both boxes in the
fire. Should I write of the sweetness of the blossoms and the purity
and beauty of their coloring? By no means. But I would not wound the
childish hearts by telling of the condition of the flowers at the time
they were received. Remember the thought that prompted the gift. Dwell
on that altogether if you will. Send a loving message to the donors,
and they will never dream you did not like their offering in the one
case or were obliged to burn it in the other.

After all, remembrance is the sweetest of all earthly gifts. When the
dear ones with whom we journey are no longer here, we will miss their
gentle ministry. May not any one of us then know the bitterness of
remorse, but rather let us hasten to send abundant, hearty thanks to
those who have taken time to think and care for us!



A STORY WITHIN A STORY


    It was the time when lilies blow,
    And clouds are highest up in air,

that four young people were vivaciously talking on the front piazza at
Aunt Mary’s.

Aunt Mary was everybody’s friend, but particularly beloved by the
nephews and nieces, of whom this story tells. And her home, “just the
jolliest kind of a place to visit,” Jo said, as he described beforehand
the expected good times his sister Madeline with their cousins,
Madge and Ernest, were to have in the week’s vacation given them for
recuperation after the half-yearly examination.

Aunt Mary’s house was in New Jersey; of course, it was on a farm, for
whoever would think of looking for such fun and frolic anywhere else?
And as all the cousins came from city homes, and Jo and his sister from
a small flat of a large apartment house, the freedom of space which
the country had given, added to the bracing air and sunny, cheerful
atmosphere, was a delightful contrast. But no one would have thought,
though, that Madeline was seventeen years of age, or that Madge was
called “Miss Propriety” at home, for they would race over the farm,
playing the wildest of games “like a couple of tomboys,” their brothers
said. But Aunt Mary let them do exactly as they pleased, and would
always sigh when she would talk of their shut-in city life, and point
to their red cheeks with great pride, which she assured them came from
living with her. And the boys, too, had seemed wonderfully benefited
by their running, racing, riding, ball and tennis playing. Even the
hallooing “got plenty of fresh air in their lungs,” Ernest said, which,
with other things too many to mention, had been done in this brief
holiday.

To-morrow they must start homeward; and just because they were
exhausted with one and another game, they are, at the commencement of
our story, resting and talking on Aunt Mary’s front piazza.

Ernest is rubbing his right arm meanwhile, for he says, “It has pained
me dreadfully ever since that last catch at the ball.”

And Aunt Mary has just joined them, carrying with her a big tin waiter
on which is a large molasses cake, so fresh that it is yet hot from the
oven, and a four-quart pitcher of milk, which Bessie, the brown-eyed
Alderney, had given at the morning milking hour. At sight of their aunt
thus laden, three cheers were laughingly and loudly given, for if there
is one way quicker than another to young people’s hearts, perhaps it
is by the way of hot molasses cake and ice-cold fresh milk, as rich as
many city folks have their cream.

Jo, who was eighteen years old on his last birthday, is considered the
young man of the party. He has always been a gentleman, and he at once
rushed to the sitting-room for his aunt’s favorite rocking-chair. As
Ernest has already disposed of the tray by putting it on a spruce-bark
covered table which stands for all sorts of convenient purposes on the
piazza, Aunt Mary is comfortably placed in her easy-chair before she
realizes that Jo had gone for it. “Oh, what delicious cake!” “How kind
you are!” “I must have another glass of that milk.” “Isn’t this lots
better than being in school?” etc., were the pleasing comments and
ejaculations which any stranger might have heard passing on the other
side of the road from the house, or, indeed, a quarter of a mile beyond
it.

After awhile, however, the eating and drinking were over, and “What
shall we do now?” was the question. “I’m tired out, for one,” said
Ernest, and “I for another,” continued Madge; “still, these are our
last hours and we must do something; we cannot afford to lose a moment.
Aunt Mary, you tell us what to do.”

“Will you promise to do what I tell you?”

“We will,” answered Madeline. “Of course we will,” continued Ernest;
“a likely thing we could say no, now, of all times, after the way this
cake and milk have disappeared.”

“Well, it’s agreed, then,” said Aunt Mary. “I want you to entertain me
awhile by telling a story.”

“A story! How? We don’t exactly understand, do we?” asked Jo, looking
at one and another perplexed face.

“The story,” answered Aunt Mary, “must be altogether, ‘made up,’ as
Madge would say. It must be divided in four chapters or parts, as
nearly equal in length as is possible. Jo can begin it, and, after
talking, say for two minutes, Madge must follow, then Ernest and
Madeline will close.”

These words were followed with whistles from the boys, and “Oh, my!”
from the girls, to all of which Aunt Mary said, “You promised, and
of course you will do it. And when the story is told, we will all
drive over to Bear’s Gulch, and that will take the remainder of the
afternoon.”

These words were followed by a halt and sighs. “But it would be a
burning shame,” said Madeline, “not to please Aunt Mary; besides, of
course, we can do it. We can do anything, if we try.”

“So say we all of us; so say we all,” sang Ernest.

And Aunt Mary laughingly replied, “The sooner the story is started,
the sooner it is through, and the sooner it is through, the sooner we
have the drive.”

“Well, as I’m the starter, here goes!” said Jo.

“And,” interrupted his aunt, “when your time is up I’ll call Madge’s
name, and so on. Don’t let us have any breaks. Tell me a story just as
smoothly as if you were reading it from a book. Now, Jo.”

“My title is, ‘The Adventures of an Irish Setter.’ When Ned Armstrong
was so small a boy that he yet wore knickerbockers, he received a short
visit from his cousin William Adams. He, too, was a little boy and was
often called ‘Sweet William,’ on account of his sunny disposition, for,
notwithstanding he was sole heir to great wealth, being the only child
of rich parents, rich enough to count their wealth by many millions of
dollars,—he was neither selfish, exacting, nor in any way disagreeable,
thereby an example to some grown-up people we have met. When William
came on this visit, he brought with him a large, well-trained dog. He
was a magnificent fellow, and Ned, his cousin, was as amazed as he was
pleased to find that the dog was a present to himself from William’s
father, his Uncle Ned, after whom he was named. This uncle had long
known he must sometime part with Moselle; he had been his own from
the time Moselle was a puppy but two months old. The reason for the
separation of master and dog was the giving up of housekeeping for life
in a hotel, as Aunt Cornelia, Uncle Ned’s wife, was now too much of an
invalid to continue caring for a house, even with the assistance of a
housekeeper, of whom she had tried many, and dogs are among the ‘not
allowed’ in hotels. So, Uncle Ned, remembering his little nephew in the
country, and knowing how he would prize and kindly treat his old pet
and friend, sent Moselle by his son William to him. This gift made Ned,
however, nearly crazy with delight, and the old gardener often feared
the results to his flower beds after the races which Ned and Moselle
would take over them. Indeed the dog was not to blame if he forgot
many of his well-trained ways, country life with the little boy was so
ungoverned by comparison with what it had been with his staid, but kind
old master.

“One day, five months after Moselle had changed his home, Ned was
missing. No one knew where the child had gone. He did not have a
regular nurse; but an old colored servant called Tamar had been in the
family many years, and she, with other duties, was supposed to keep
an eye on this child. But Tamar had been negligent this time. Ned was
missing. The big garden was searched everywhere, thinking possibly he
had fallen asleep under some of the rose or berry bushes, but Ned was
not in the garden. Strangely enough, as the boy and dog were counted
inseparable, Moselle was all right and contentedly sunning himself on a
pansy bed, which was a favorite place of his, though often scolded and
chased away for thus flattening the beautiful flowers——”

“Madge, it is your time.”

“As Ned was not found in the garden, the next place to look was all
over the house, while the cry of ‘Ned! Ned!’ was heard in every room
and from several windows, for as one after another looked they would
throw up a window-sash, thinking Ned must be somewhere outside in the
grounds and would surely hear them call, and they would hear his voice
in answer, even if they did not see him. But it was all in vain. Ned
could neither be seen nor heard, and his mother and sister Mary, a girl
of twelve years old, who were the only ones of the family then at home,
finally cried with fright and anxiety. But their fright was of short
duration, for, before an hour had passed, Ned was back perfectly safe,
without scratch or injury, and having the rested dewy look to his eyes
which all children have who have lately woke from sleep.

“It was Isaac, the stableman, who found him. No one ever could really
explain why Moselle was not with him at the time, but the child had
wandered alone into the stable, and the man passing in and out had
not noticed him, who, probably tired with play, had fallen asleep
on the hay. While thus asleep, Isaac had closed the stable door and
fastened it, preparatory to a three miles’ drive to the flour mill.
On his return with the meal, the clatter connected with the moving of
the stable door and getting the horses back had wakened the child, who
came hurriedly out, rubbing his eyes as he ran, and calling at the
top of his lungs for Moselle, not knowing others had as loudly been
calling for him. But Moselle did not answer. There was no running,
jumping and wagging of the tail from his dog-friend, for Moselle was
now the missing one. In the gladness of Ned’s being found, neither Mrs.
Armstrong, nor Mary, nor, indeed, any of the servants, had given the
dog a thought, and it was not until Ned refused to be comforted that
one of the help slowly said, ‘There was a poor old soldier here this
morning, just at the time Isaac came home with the meal. I thought,
perhaps, Isaac had given him a lift up. He asked for a cup of coffee,
but I had none made, and didn’t want to take the trouble to make any,
so I gave him a couple of slices of bread with apple-sauce between. I
reckon he’s made way with the dog, the mean, contemptible wretch!’

“And he had. Moselle was already miles away from the house of little
Ned Armstrong, and his companion was the same poorly-clad half-sick
looking soldier that the housemaid had given the apple-sauce sandwich
to that morning. The dog was prevented from running home by a strong
cord fastened around his neck at one end and the other end firmly
clutched by the man’s hand, and both dog and man had had several helps
over the road, as their rested-looking condition proved. That night,
in the city of Wilmington, North Carolina, the soldier sold the dog
for twenty-three dollars to a handsome young army officer, at present
stationed at Old Point Comfort, but who had a three days’ leave of
absence to visit a sick relative at Wilmington. The dog and his new
master had already started for ‘Old Point’ when the officer suddenly
remembered—”

“Ernest, your time now.”

“That he had forgotten to ask the dog’s name, and, as he could not take
time to hunt the man up from whom he had bought the dog, he decided to
christen him Duke.

“It was the month of March, and the Hygeia Hotel was a gay scene of
life and beauty. Among the guests was a charming young woman, talented
and rich, but also very lame. She could not walk without the aid of a
crutch; but, notwithstanding this detraction, she fascinated everybody
by her lovely manner and cheerful, sunny disposition. The gentleman who
had bought Moselle, now called Duke, daily dined at the Hygeia, and
in a particularly fortunate time was presented to the lame lady. He
was, therefore, the envy of all the unmarried army officers who, with
every one else, would delight in thinking of her as their friend. The
young lady admired Duke very much, and often petted and caressed him,
and the dog seemed proud and pleased to be in her company. However,
the time came for the lame lady to return to her home in New York,
and the dog was left alone with his master, though I might add, not
alone, for everybody living at the ‘Point’ seemed to know Duke and
would always praise his beauty. One old gentleman offered two hundred
dollars for him once, but it was refused, his owner saying, ‘I will
never sell Duke, though some day I may be tempted to give him away.’
Duke was taught many tricks while at the Fortress, among others, to
carry letters. These he would hold in his mouth, but would neither tear
them with his teeth, nor wet them with his tongue. He was also taught
to ‘say his prayers,’ which he always did kneeling on a wooden chair,
with his head resting with closed eyes on the back. When ‘Amen’ was
said this was the signal to jump over the chair-back and shake himself
as if pleased to have prayer-time over. One day, as the mail was being
distributed, Duke, as was his wont, was standing near, and one of the
officers putting a letter in the dog’s mouth, said: ‘Take that to your
master. It’s from his friend, the lame lady.’ This the officer meant
for a joke, but it was really true, and, as the letter concerned Duke,
we will insert it here:

    “‘DEAR MR. G——:

    “‘According to promise, I write you the result of the
    operation, which I am sure you will be glad to learn is
    a complete success. My physicians say if I will have
    patience for another month I will then walk as well as
    anybody. Please give Duke an extra pat on my account,
    and whenever you feel constrained to part with him,
    remember

                                  “‘Your friend
                                       “‘PAULINE JEROME.’

“That settles it!” exclaimed Duke’s master. ‘I learned last night I was
soon to be sent to California, and I at once decided my good dog and I
must separate. And now that he can have so kind a mistress, and I have
this opportunity to win the gratitude of my lovely friend, what a fool
I would be to hesitate longer. On my way to California, I will arrange
to pass through New York City, and will then personally give my dog to
Miss Jerome.’”

“Madeline, will you finish the story?”

“Six months have now passed since Duke exchanged his home at Fortress
Monroe for the luxurious apartments of his beautiful mistress. The
dog is constantly tended with the greatest care, groomed as tenderly
as if made of human flesh. He sleeps in my lady’s room and seems truly
aristocratic with his lordly bearing. His baby-blue satin ribbon bow,
knotted into the solid gold collar, which bears his name and address, a
Christmas gift from his mistress, causes him to appear what indeed he
has become—almost spoiled with good fortune.

“But what a change a few short hours can make! That night there was
a cry of ‘Fire!’ My! the alarm and panic it raised! for the fire was
not noticed until there was so much flame and smoke that it was with
the utmost difficulty the inmates of the house escaped with their
lives. Nothing else was saved. Miss Jerome calling to a fireman, said:
‘Take care of my dog, and I will pay you well.’ The man, catching
the dog harshly by the collar, fairly dragged him out of the burning
building, for Duke seemed dazed with smoke and fright. But, on reaching
the street, the dog was entirely beyond control, and, with wonderful
strength freed himself from the man’s grasp, strong as it was, and
dashed down the street. Miss Jerome offered at different times large
rewards for his return; but it was useless, Duke and his mistress were
never again to meet, he was as lost to her as if he had never existed.
Several months passed, after the fire, and the dog once more found
friends, a home, and his old name, Moselle. Peculiar events happen
in life, and few more so than the following. Mr. and Mrs. Adams of
whom this story first told, had gone to the South of France, hoping
to recover the health of Mrs. Adams, on whose account it will be
remembered the valued dog had to be parted with. They were accompanied
by Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong and their children, Ned and May. The older
people of this party were one morning talking on the lawn connected
with the Hôtel de Grace, when Ned and May suddenly burst upon them
accompanied by a large dog, who was jumping and tearing around as if
wild with joy. Seeing Mr. Adams, he left the children, and, jumping on
his lap, laid his head on his shoulder and moaned and actually seemed
to weep with gladness. ‘This is Moselle, Moselle!’ shouted Ned; ‘we
saw him with an old fiddler out here on the road. I thought he looked
like my dear old dog, though he is so thin and starved looking, and I
called “Moselle,” and you should have seen him run. Those long legs
of his fairly raced to reach me. Indeed, he knocked me down. He was
too happy to behave, wasn’t you, Moselle?’ and Ned tenderly smoothed
his beautiful head, which he yet kept on his old master’s shoulder, as
though they must never be separated again, while his tender brown eyes
seemed to speak of affectionate content. The family never again parted
with Moselle until he died, which sad event occurred towards the close
of the same year. The dog’s exposures and privations after the fire,
during his varied life, seemed to have weakened and injured him to such
an extent that, though tender care was constantly lavished, it came too
late. All that Mr. Adams ever learned of Moselle’s history, he heard
from the fiddler, who had bought him from an old woman, who said he
belonged to her son, and that they had had nothing but bad luck since
the dog was theirs, and she would be glad to get rid of him at any
price. The fiddler thought the son had stolen the dog, and, as he was
himself having bad fortune, he determined to leave America and return
to his own country, and had brought the dog over the sea, thinking in
that way if there was any wrong dealing connected with the dog he would
never be discovered. ‘But,’ said the old fiddler, gravely shaking his
head, ‘I’ve always heard “wrong will out,” and I’m thankful to dispose
of him for so liberal a compensation as you have so kindly made me.’
With these words, the fiddler folded his money over, thrust it in his
pocket and walked away.”

“Thank you for such an entertaining story,” said Aunt Mary; “and now we
will have our promised drive.”



ORRIN THE BOOTBLACK.


“Shine, shine, shine!” the cry was as earnest as it was pitiful. I rose
from my seat in the cabin of the Fulton Ferry boat, for I was crossing
from Brooklyn to New York at the time, and found the boy; one glance
into his honest blue eyes did the rest.

I at once gave him my boots to blacken, regardless of the opinion of my
man Dennis, that he had put on them an extra polish that morning, and,
while the almost baby hand continued to shine them into as dazzling a
glare as blackened boots could reach, I asked him his name, and, giving
him my card, told him to call on me that evening at seven o’clock.

“Mr. Adams, you surely do not mean me to understand that your protégé,
who to-night delivered the valedictory address in this honored college,
and the bootblack are one and the same?”

“I do.”

The above conversation was between the President of the college and the
senior member of the Board of Trustees.

“Yes; he is the same, and yet not the same, because then he was such
a sad little fellow, and now he is full of jokes and wholesome pranks,
a merry wit that gladdens my old days, and almost makes a boy of me
again. At one time, though, I thought he would never laugh; it was such
an apology for a smile that I first saw cross his prematurely wizened
face. But how long ago it now seems! Let me see,” thoughtfully counting
one, two, three on his fingers, “why, it must be twelve years since
then. How time flies!”

“Yes, time always does fly, when we are busy and happy. But are you
aware that your Orrin is one of our youngest men? He gave his age as
twenty-two!”

“Quite correct.”

“Well, I am confounded at your information. I am as curious as I am
interested. Would you mind some time telling me the rest of the boy’s
story?”

“Not at all; why not spend to-morrow evening with me? You know we sail
Saturday for the continent, and after that our movements are uncertain.
Orrin has worked hard, and I have promised him this treat, and, though
he does not know it, I am contemplating leaving him at Oxford for a
year or two. By the way, I would like your opinion as to that. But one
thing is sure—if he stays in England, I stay too. I could not put the
ocean between us. You cannot imagine how my heart holds that boy;
so, if you really want to hear my chap’s story, you would better come
to-morrow night.”

“I will come.”

It was evening, and, when the two men were comfortably seated in Mr.
Adams’ library, the following was told.

Mr. Adams prefaced the recital with the words: “I will photograph Orrin
as he first appeared in my home, and then, as nearly as my memory
can recall our conversation, I will give it. Twelve years ago, about
seven o’clock in the evening, a maid told me that a small poorly-clad
lad, with a box under his arm, was asking to see me. He had entered
by the lower door. I directed her to bring him to me, and, strangely
enough, in my comfortable lounging-chair, with the evening paper for
companion, I had entirely forgotten the engagement I had made, but
the girl’s words instantly recalled all, and, a few moments later, I
was addressing him. His manner was neither shy nor bold. He appeared
neither surprised nor bewildered. I did not note the confused air,
which I could reasonably expect. He met my gaze with the honest, frank
look that I first noticed, but he seemed sad, even painfully. He was
such a small boy. He evidently was what is so rarely found—a gentleman.
I almost exclaimed as he stood in the doorway, for I noticed the way
he held his cap; Beau Brummell in his most happy days could not have
done better, and the bow with which he answered my ‘good evening,’ as
well as the response to my asking him to take a chair, made me say
to myself, ‘Adams, you must look out, or this little bootblack will
leave you leagues rearward in the manner question!’ His hair was dark,
very glossy, and slightly curly. His face and hands almost shone with
cleanliness. I especially noticed his nails, and, knowing his business,
was surprised to find that they, also, were quite clean. His height was
decidedly small for his age (he did not really seem to grow much until
he was about seventeen years old, and then how he shot up! he is just
six feet tall now); his clothes were not patched, but threadbare and
ragged. The material was fine. His trousers only came to his knees, and
both shoes and stockings were visibly the worse for wear. He was not a
pretty boy, but a manly-looking little fellow. His complexion was fair,
but pallid; indeed, the boy wore a starved, pinched look. His jacket,
which was buttoned with brass buttons to the neck, hung on him, as if
he had grown thinner since it was made. So much for my photograph. Now
for our conversation, which will give you a better idea of the boy,
than if only using my own words.

“‘Good evening, my little man.’

“‘Good evening, sir.’

“‘You blackened my boots so well this morning, I thought I would like
to talk with you about your business to-night.’

“‘Thank you, sir.’

“‘How long have you been a bootblack?’

“‘Seven weeks.’

“‘Have you made much money?’

“‘I make more now than at first, sir.’

“‘How much is the most you have made a week?’

“‘Last week, sir, I made ninety-five cents.’

“‘How much is the least you ever made?’

“‘Fifteen, sir; that was my first week, when I was new in the business.’

“‘You live with your parents, I suppose?’

“‘No, sir.’

“‘Don’t live with your parents? Whom do you live with?’

“‘With myself.’

“‘You, a little midget like you, live by yourself! Where do you sleep?’

“‘Wherever I can find a place.’

“‘Where did you sleep last night?’

“‘You won’t tell, sir, if I tell you?’

“‘No.’

“‘Well, I’ve slept for three nights, now, in a covered wagon. It has
been left outside, and, some way, no one has ever seen me crawl into
it. Please don’t tell any one, sir. I really don’t hurt the wagon.’

“‘But why don’t you go home? Do your parents drink?’

“‘I have no home, sir; my parents are dead; they are both in heaven.’
And then the little hands hastily undid the few top buttons of his
jacket, and untied a black shoe lace which served as a chain. Then,
stepping nervously towards me, he said; ‘Would you like to see mamma’s
picture?’

“I tell you what, sir, this action, united to the boy’s words, unmanned
me. ‘John Adams,’ I asked myself, ‘you’ll befriend this boy?’ And John
Adams answered, ‘I will.’

“The picture was painted on porcelain, a medallion resting on dark blue
velvet; the whole was framed in a band of narrow gold. The woman was a
blonde, delicate looking, but very beautiful. She had an intellectual
face, and seemed of good birth. In age about twenty-five years.

“‘Has your mother been dead long?’ I next asked.

“‘She died when I was born, and I am ten years old. Papa gave me her
picture, and I always wear it. I would starve, sir, but I would never
part from it.’ I am sure the boy has it on now, but I would not like
to ask him to show it to you. He is sensitive, and I would not risk
hurting him.”

“No, indeed, I would not have you, if you were ever so willing. And
what more, Mr. Adams? It is well I did not know of this while he was
in college; I am afraid I should have spoiled him.”

“Well, I asked him if he had brothers or sisters. His reply was—

“‘I had one brother; he died a year ago.’

“‘How long since your father died?’

“‘Eight weeks, sir.’

“‘And you started at the boot-blacking business one week later?’

“‘Yes, sir.’

“‘What was your father’s business?’

“‘When he was in business, he was a stockbroker.’

“‘A stockbroker!’ I exclaimed, although I was positive before, judging
from his mother’s picture, that he was born above his present position.
‘And you say there was a time when your father was not in business. How
long ago was that?’

“‘The last two years of his life, after he became blind.’

“‘Tell me all about it, my good boy.’

“‘My father, sir, must have made a great deal of money; we lived in
such a handsome house.’

“‘As handsome as this?’

“Looking around before he replied,—

“‘Oh, yes, sir.’

“‘You say your mother was dead. Who, then, kept house for you?’

“‘Mrs. Prentiss, our housekeeper. I had a nurse first, Nurse Ann, and
when I got to be a big boy, I had a governess. She taught me to read,
write, and all I know. I have never been to school. We had several
servants, and my father kept horses. It was the house in which mamma
died, and everything, papa said, must be as she kept house. But, one
day, I know not how it happened, my father lost a great deal of money,
and a lot of strange people came to the house, and almost all of our
beautiful things were sold. All the servants left but one, and my
governess. Papa and I lived then in a few rooms. I used to hear papa
talk about his eyes, at that time, and one day he went to see a doctor
about them. When he came back he told me: ‘My son, I am going to be
blind,’ and then explained to me exactly what that meant. He told me
that the reason he would be blind was because he had used too much
tobacco. My father smoked a great many cigars every day, and sometimes
a pipe. He chewed tobacco too. I felt frightened when I heard all of
this, and I remember I cried and papa comforted me. He afterwards
asked me to repeat these words after him. ‘My papa was blind. His
optic nerves were hurt because he used too much tobacco. I will never
smoke or chew.’ My papa had me repeat these words until I knew them
perfectly, and then I said them once every day to him until he died. I
say them every day to myself now. My papa became blind very soon after
we left our home, and about six months before he died he was sick most
of the time. My governess left one day, and then I had no more lessons.
And almost every day our things would be sold, until, when papa died,
we had most nothing left. About a week after he was buried, some men
came to our rooms, and then our girl left, and the men told me I must
go too. I could not live there any more. They gave me my clothes, and
one of the men gave me a dollar. I cried so hard that another man said
he would take me home with him, and I could stay two or three nights at
his house until I could get some work and make money for myself. That
was why I became a bootblack. This man told me it was a good business,
and, because I was so little and did not know what to do, the man and
his wife made me a present of my outfit and told me to watch other
bootblacks and cry out: “Shine, shine,” and so get business. The man
gave me his boots to black while I stopped at the house and that taught
me the way, for I never had blackened boots before. I stayed with these
kind people for one week, and since then I have taken care of myself.’

“‘Have you no relations?’

“‘None I have ever seen. The day before papa died, he told me I was
soon to be all alone in the world, that I had no relatives, and then he
said: “Your relatives are all dead, my son, or dead to you.” That is
all I know, sir.’

“My heart ached for the child as he finished, and I thought, let the
consequence be what it would, he should not leave my house that night.
I asked him his name.

“‘Orrin Thorndyke,’ was the reply.

“I told him he was to remain overnight with me, and that to-morrow
I would investigate his story. This he readily did. He seemed to be
satisfied to do exactly as he was told; he had evidently not yet
gotten away from the manner of obeying his father. I think I told you
he was prematurely old; his strange life had made him so. That night
I scarcely slept, so full of plans was I for the future. As you know,
I have always been a bachelor with plenty of money and no relatives
who will ever need help through me. Before morning I decided that, if
on investigation I found the bootblack’s story correct, I would at
once adopt him and do for him as I would for an only son. This I have
conscientiously tried to do, and, coming in and out of this house as
the friend you are, I trust you think I have done right.”

“You certainly have.”

“I have noticed your admiration for my boy, and I have been very glad
of it; and how well I remember the first time you saw him! You said I
was to be congratulated in having for my protégé such a manly little
fellow, and then you added, ‘Blood is sure, Adams, and I give up
judging forever after, if good blood is not in this boy’s veins.’ Of
course, when the child became mine, I wanted him to bear my name, but
you never knew before that the Orrin Thorndyke part was his own. Some
way, I could not ask him to part with it altogether, and so I had mine
simply added.”

“Oh, what a man you are; it takes time to know you, Adams. And at last,
I have found out why you so suddenly gave up smoking.”

“That is a fact. How could I smoke with that child’s story running not
only in my ears, but through my heart? But what do you think of Orrin
smoking three cigars every day!”

“Surely, you are joking!”

“No; I will tell you how he does it. When he was fourteen years of age,
I gave him a monthly allowance, because I wished him to early learn the
management of money. One day, shortly after, he came to me with the
question, would I permit him to set aside the value of three five-cent
cigars a day, and when the amount would reach five dollars he desired
to put it in the bank and so open a smoking account. He also said he
would regularly add to this amount as he could accumulate five dollars,
and that he would not withdraw the money, but allow it to increase both
principal and interest until he was thirty years of age, at which
time he and I could decide what would be done with it. This I readily
agreed to do. And now that he has been ‘smoking,’ as he puts it, three
five-cent cigars every day for eight years, the amount already in the
bank, at four per cent. interest, is not a small one. Why, in the first
year, without interest, he saved nearly fifty-five dollars!”

“If only I had tried that scheme when I was fourteen years old, I would
be a rich man now,” replied the President; “however, it is not yet too
late to start the plan with my grandchildren.”



BREAKFAST-TABLE DECORATION.


“Mabel!”

“Well, mamma!”

“Come to breakfast, dearie.” The call was given through the wide
lattice which opened on the garden. And at once the little girl obeyed
the summons.

And what a charming picture was given when the child presented herself
in the half-open doorway, with her big blue eyes, the blue of the sky
overhead, cheeks that rivalled the peach blossom’s rich redness, and
lips wide parted, with the merry laugh that rippled over and over the
upturned face; for at that moment she was bubbling beyond control with
mischief and sparkle, partly on account of the buoyancy of the early
morning atmosphere, but mostly because of the raid she had made on the
morning-glory vines, as her laden hands and arms could testify.

“I haven’t struck the right combination yet,” were her mother’s words,
at the same time touching a majolica dish of flowers that served as
ornament for the breakfast-table.

“Well, _I have_! An idea has just sprung on me, seized me, as it were!
Stand still where you are, little sister, until Tom comes back again,”
and then away the boy flew, in his clumsy energy tripping over an
ottoman that was always at Mabel’s place at table, because she was not
yet tall enough to put her feet on the floor.

It seemed but a second when he returned with a cut-glass bowl in his
hands, filled within one-third of the top with fresh, cold water; and
with an air of triumph he removed the majolica dish, depositing the
bowl in its stead.

Then, going to the little girl, who had stood motionless in obedience
to her big brother’s command, and with the words, “Let Tom have some
of your pretty flowers,” he took first one and then another. The color
values, as she held the morning-glories, appealed to him, there was
such richness of reds, purples, lavenders and white, with their many
intermediate shades, which blended softly with the green leaves, vines
and tendrils. When he had taken enough to fill, not crowd the bowl,
there were many exclamations of satisfaction, for all was harmony. The
white tablecloth was a fitting background to the variety of color, and
the delicate, graceful flowers gave such a pleasant welcome at this
first meal of the new day.

Morning-glories should be oftener used for the breakfast-table. Try
what you can do with them, boys and girls, and thus give a pleasant
surprise to your mother. Another pretty table decoration would be to
plant woodland vines, and also ferns, oxalis, and pretty wild grasses
in an ornamental piece of earthenware, one that would add beauty to the
dinner-table.

Take such a piece to the country with you, and remember to fill it with
forest mould before you put in the woodland plants; it will be most
pleasing, and prove a joy all winter if you will properly water it;
that is, keep it wet, not soggy.



HOW THEY PLANTED THE NASTURTIUMS.


Such a clamor of voices reached grandma’s ears that her first thought
was that the children must have the garden, at the very least, half
filled with their schoolmates. But when the old lady rose from her big
armchair to take a sharp look around from the window, she was amazed
to learn that all the confusion was made by her two happy, healthy
grandchildren Margaret and Marshall, and they were as busy as could be,
planting and fussing over nasturtium plants.

“See us, grandma,” were the pleasant if imperative words when they
saw their grandmother with her head stretched out as far as possible,
looking first one way and then another.

“See you? Well, I should say I did, and what are you doing with that
old umbrella frame, Marshall?” was the questioning response.

“Getting ready for our nasturtiums,” and the boy tossed his head
laughingly towards a large quantity of the golden brown blossoms,
digging energetically all the while, though, as if moments were more
precious than he could tell.

As grandma was anxious to learn all about the planting, first Marshall
and then Margaret told her just what they were about to do. The
gardener at the Jenkins place explained what he did. “And I never saw
nasturtiums look as pretty before,” said Margaret, with a sedate shake
of her head. “Besides, it is an altogether new idea, not the old sort
of a thing that everybody knows. It commences by planting an umbrella
frame, putting the handle deep enough down not to break off with the
first strong wind, or with the weight of vines, either, in case they
should grow a trifle heavier on one side than the other, though, of
course, this we will try to prevent. The umbrella should not be put
in a corner, but in an open bed, where people can walk all around it.
This frame of ours has eight sticks, and at each one we will plant a
root. And we are going to plant two at the handle, one on either side,
and not close enough to crowd each other. As the vines grow, they will
be trained up the handle and along the sticks, making the effect of a
diminutive tent, and while this old frame is rather an ungainly sight
at present, in a few weeks the bed will be simply gorgeous.

“Oh, they are so pretty!” Margaret continued, lightly and fondly
touching the bright flowers, “such a variety of shades, yellow,
orange, even to a deep brown, and the vine is willing to wind any way
we will; it is naturally graceful, with just enough foliage and not too
much. Why, the old frame will be the prettiest thing in all the country
around.”

“I only hope our neighbors will not watch and try the same thing for
themselves,” was Marshall’s interjection.

“They probably will not before next summer,” was grandma’s assuring
comment, “and then your nasturtium umbrella would be one year old.”



A GARDEN PARTY.


Dinners, receptions, and concerts have been attended through the winter
until everybody is tired of the old routine; but entertainment which
is associated with trees, flowers, gorgeous sunsets, out-of-door life,
touches the heart and makes of every such occasion a real joy.

How shall we give a _fête champêtre_?

A lawn is a necessity, and should the trees not prove sufficiently
exclusive, surround the grounds with canvas. The canvas may be
concealed with boughs of green, running vines, flags, banners, or
anything that will lessen its ugliness. The entire grounds must be
decorated. Japanese lanterns might be used freely; several hundreds
of them will be required, as they should be liberally scattered
everywhere—not only in the grounds, on the trees or canvas serving as
fence, but on the piazzas of the house.

A good orchestra should be hidden behind a clump of balsam or other
bushy trees. The leader should be untiring in his efforts to give
enough and desirable music. If ballads are sung, the orchestra leader
is responsible for the accompaniment, and he is equally responsible
for the dances, should such be given. The air should be filled with
music, but to the pleasure and not the annoyance of guests.

Conversation and music are always important factors of entertainment;
but to these an extravaganza may be added, or a play—for example, the
whole or part of _As You Like It_, or _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_.

Should _As You Like It_ be given, screen a section of the lawn to
represent the Duke’s palace. A conversation-room may readily be
arranged. Remove one or more screens and see a room, the ceiling of
which would be the sky; the side walls folding screens, which may be
adjusted to any shape and size; the floor would be the grass covered
with rugs. On these rugs stand a few chairs, a couch, and a small
table. With such surroundings, altogether at home would Celia seem,
while she would say:

    “Why, cousin; why Rosalind;—
     Cupid have mercy!—Not a word?”

The many songs, especially “Under the Greenwood tree” and “What shall
He have that killed the Deer?” would prove very appropriate in the
forest of Arden environment, and the trees would be quite in place for
the love-verses of Orlando.

Or the guests might be served with a literary salad. Paste or draw
pictures on cards to illustrate the title of a book, and give one to
each person. Whoever shall make a correct guess without assistance
within fifteen minutes may be presented with a wreath of laurel. This
may be worn on the head or carried on the arm.

Sometimes a _fête champêtre_ is given for sweet charity. It then
assumes a different phase, as booths, chalets, or tents are erected,
within which saleable articles are offered. An effective fête might
be given in athletic grounds, which should be noticeably gay with
streamers of bunting and little and big flags. At such a fête a large
orchestra should play the entire afternoon.

It would be very attractive if those in charge of the chalets would
represent milkmaids, as this allows picturesque apparel. The young
ladies might go bareheaded, or wear a gay handkerchief coquettishly
knotted under their braids or curls, or cover their heads altogether by
donning the new lawn sunbonnet, which is such a dainty feature of this
summer’s outing.

The chalets should be small lean-tos, their roofs tilting towards the
back and resting on four poles, one at each corner. These chalets
should be festively trimmed, and contain such products as milk, cream,
cheese, and eggs. As these are all necessities in housekeeping, the
financial result should be quite large.

Gowns and hats, flounces and ribbons, form a conspicuous part of
a _fête champêtre_. Sheer grenadines, nets, and gauzes, clouds of
Valenciennes lace, beflowered organdies, any of the effective summer
costumes, the more fetching the combination the more satisfactory the
attire. The color contrasts are allowed to a greater extreme than for
street apparel, and brilliant colors produce a smart effect on the
lawn; and yet the dainty white, yellow, pink, or blue fabrics may be
always afterwards worn to advantage, they are so fresh and youthful.

The smart costume requires the broad-brimmed hat coquettishly rolled,
and massed with lilacs, morning-glories, sweet-pease, roses, or
carnations, and the often added long ribbon streamers. But the flower
toque, and the parasol of white mousseline de soie trimmed with flowers
and a flounce of lace, and the pretty or quaint fan, aid the charming
gown in producing an artistic effect.

The guests arrive in pony carriages, high carts, or victorias, and the
closed brougham, like an old friend, is always admissible. The host and
the hostess seem especially cordial, standing, as they do, under the
broad branches of a tall tree. Indeed, stern Madam Propriety would deem
such warmth of welcome scarcely permissible under a lighted chandelier.
But if, as it has been known to happen, the day of the fête should
also be the day of the worst storm of the entire season, the guests
are received, if possible, on the piazza, and all aid in making merry
and helping the hostess to such an extent that people forget that a
_fête champêtre_ was ever considered, and that it was not meant to be a
house party from the beginning. Of course no one should allude to the
weather; that would be decidedly out of form, and be very unkind to the
hostess, who certainly cannot stop the storm.

In such a shaping of events refreshments are served in-doors, if
possible using the same little tables intended for the lawn, the
cloths, which are edged about with ferns and field-flowers in variety,
added to the pretty china and cut glass used in serving the menu, lend
the charm of beauty.

The menu for such a function may be the same as that given at an
evening reception, or it may be the simple refreshment provided for an
afternoon tea, with an added salad or ice. But as an afternoon spent in
the open air gives good appetite, liberal refreshment will be in order.



THE KING’S CHILDREN.


“Pearly! Pearly!”

It was a woman’s shrill voice that fiercely shrieked the name out into
the morning air.

We were homeward bound from the Old Red Spring in Saratoga, when we
were arrested by her screams. The sun shone brightly, the robins and
other song birds were trilling out their sweetest melodies, the air
was heavily scented with white clover blossoms and sweetbrier. It was
a rarely beautiful July morning. All the world to us was melody, save
the jar made by this thin, haggard, unkempt woman. In her effort to be
heard she travelled along the road in the direction she thought Pearly
must have gone, crushing the daisies and buttercups down before her.

Two Sabbaths before we had sat at the communion table, and then felt a
kinship to all, that our brothers and sisters were not only those of
our very own by ties of blood, but were close to us the round world
over. The Sabbath before, as the clergyman said, “freely ye have
received, freely give,” we thought more of the giving of ourselves
than of our money, more of letting others have a share of the good
gifts that had been our lot, joy, music, loving-kindness generally,
than of offering our filthy lucre. Indeed, it seemed a great descent,
for we had been taken up on the moment by our pastor’s tender words,
and now must remember Vanity Fair and the necessity for money in this
worldly world. And so thinking, this woman with the wild, disagreeable
voice, stopped us; and should we not do something to help her, was the
question put to ourselves.

She was one of the resident Saratogians. Cross, possibly, because she
was tired; haggard, because she had no time for rest. To her the Spring
waters were as a myth, and the dry, bracing air little considered in
her work-a-day existence. We, therefore, turning in the direction in
which this woman went, commenced our search for the little girl, for
such we decided she was, but all in vain. Whether Pearly, familiar to
the harsh voice and recognizing extra work or disagreeable duty as
a result of coming to the front, had hidden behind the large clumps
of elderberry bushes which grew thickly around, or had run off to
the woods for protection, we know not; we only know that we had to
leave the woman to conclude her search alone. But the words, “Pearly!
Pearly!” now and again caught our ear, though indistinctly, as the
distance widened between us, and later we lost the sound altogether.
Then it was that another Pearly came into our thought.

She had been baptized Margaret; but the old-fashioned long name had
been shortened during her babyhood to the beautiful name, “Pearl.” She
has always been loving and lovable, and always seemed consecrated, even
from her cradle. Many of the wise people have often gravely said of
her, “That child can never live to grow up. She is too good.” But she
has lived to grow up, and, nothing happening, in a year or two more
she will be graduated from one of our most respected women’s colleges.
She, even as a little child, never had to be punished. “Pearl, that
is wrong; you should not act or speak that way,” was the most serious
chiding she ever needed to receive; for when told she had done wrong,
she would immediately say, “I will try never to do that again.” And she
invariably would keep her promise.

As a schoolgirl she is a general favorite, being popular enough
to receive the unanimous vote for class president, for Pearl is a
sunny, bright, sympathetic girl. The truly good are always the truly
happy. Her religion is of the character to attract, not to repel. And
possibly there are nowhere to be found keener or more severe critics
than schoolgirls are of one another. The long-faced piety, as it is
sometimes called, would receive from them only ridicule and contempt.
The abandon of youth is not slow in exposing what they consider
trustless and wrong.

But my story would be too long to tell many incidents in the life of
Pearl; to tell the many ways she has helped all with whom her short
life of eighteen years has brought her in contact; to tell of her
sympathetic words, helpful handclasp, feet swift to run on deeds of
kindness, voice raised in song, thus aiding others in the schoolroom,
the prayer-meeting or the home. Indeed, Pearl was constantly forming
new ties, thus binding the hearts of all who met her to herself.

The incident of which I would particularly write is her work as a
King’s Daughter. She was one of the earliest to join this organization,
and the first band she formed was to pay for the education of a young
girl in the same school as herself. This young girl was the only child
of a rich father, but it was the old story—a dishonest partner used
the firm’s money for speculating purposes, and in an evil hour all was
gone; not only money, but reputation also, and Elsie, the only child,
must now leave school, it seemed, forever. Then it was Pearl came to
the rescue; and first binding her ten to secrecy, because it would
wound Elsie to ever know, it was arranged with the President and
officers of the school that this band should pay for Elsie’s schooling;
and she will graduate with Pearl, all unconscious of the one to whom
she is indebted.

Elsie’s father was notified by the school President that his daughter
was too much beloved not to have an opportunity to finish her
education. If he was ever able to refund the money, all right, if not,
it was still all right; and this is all Elsie or her father know.

Since then Pearl has started nine other bands, each doing noble
work for Christ and humanity. With only one of these is she herself
connected. It every year supports ten poor, aged women, who otherwise
would be obliged to go to the almshouse. By the help of this King’s
Daughters’ Band these women remain in their own little homes, passing
the hours as their desires dictate, and not feeling the pain which
Will Carleton so vividly describes in his poem, “Over the Hills to the
Poorhouse.” No wonder that these poor old women frequently ask God’s
blessing on these young girls, for they are so comfortable and happy as
they thus quietly wait for the summons to the other home whose builder
and maker is God. And no wonder that Pearl wears a happy face, for the
face indicates the heart within. The good she has done, and may yet do,
will never be known here, nor is it necessary. Sufficient for Pearl
will be the words which we hope will also be ours some day, “Enter thou
into the joy of thy Lord.”



FOR THE BOYS.


Why should not the boys be as busy and helpful as the girls?

Why should not the boys form their “Try Bands,” “Working Circles” and
“King’s Sons’ Societies?”

There is no reason. Will not, therefore, the willing, manly boys who
read this enlist their friends to help at least one of their heathen
brothers to a Christian education? It is work that will give abundant
reward.

American boys know how much care is taken for their education. Not
only are their teachers, but their mothers, fathers, brothers sisters
and other relatives, their constant instructors. The greatest culture
and opportunity surround them; valuable libraries are ever at their
disposal. There are numberless free schools, art rooms and museums.
Beside the private academies, institutes, and colleges, there are
Young Men’s Christian Association rooms, Christian Endeavor Societies,
churches and Sunday-schools, all open and giving hearty welcome. Not so
are the privileges of the boys in India, China and Japan. For though
the Bible and our missionaries have done a great deal to help the
heathen boy, his surroundings are dark indeed, in contrast with those
of children in Christian lands. Indeed, it is rare that a heathen boy
is not a castaway by his family when he confesses Christ. Instead of
relatives being a help to his life, they are among his greatest sorrows.

Boys ought to be willing to give other boys a chance, especially when
they stand alone. If ten boys would form a band, they could easily
collect thirty dollars a year, and thirty dollars would pay all the
yearly expenses of a boy in a mission school or academy. This academy
prepares boys for the theological seminary, and the seminary fits them
for the ministry. Indeed, when in the academy, boys often go out to
talk and sing to those who do not know of Christ. They feel sure that
their heathen friends are missing so much in not knowing Jesus, that
they cannot wait until they have completed their studies; but as soon
as they know about Jesus themselves they are impatient to tell others.
They can talk to their friends with greater effect than missionaries
from this country, because they understand their customs and ways.
Besides, the terrible heat in India does not affect them as it does
people who go from this country. Very often our missionaries and their
families have to return to America on account of their health.

Some of the boys in India are very bright. I will tell you of one who
is about fifteen years of age, and is a student in the Arcot Academy,
India. His name is Joseph, son of the catechist Israel; his mother’s
name is Rachel. You will notice they are all Bible names. This family
were once heathen, but now all know and love Christ, and are happy
in working for Him. I lately had the pleasure of reading a letter
written and composed by Joseph, without any aid from his instructors.
I wish it were possible for my boy readers to see his penmanship; it
seemed nearly as perfect as copperplate. Each letter was very distinct
and prettily shaded. Every word was spelled correctly, and while his
composition had not the exact style we would use, it was very direct
and intelligible. I doubt if many American boys of Joseph’s age could
do better with a French or German letter, or in writing in any other
language than their own. Thinking you might be interested in hearing
from Joseph, particularly as he tells of what he does on the Sabbath,
and of his school life, I will quote directly from his letter:

                       “MADRAS PRESIDENCY, Ranipet, India.

    “MOST RESPECTED AND KIND MADAM:

    “My superiors, teachers and fellow-students are doing
    well up to this time by the grace of our Almighty,
    hoping the same for you....

    “I solicit you, dear madam, pray for me that I may obey
    my superiors; I don’t like to have the name of our Lord
    Jesus Christ in vain. But I want to publish His name.

    “Every Sunday we all go over the country and preach
    about the Gospel. Many of the heathen become Christians.

    “There are eight bands in the school. When we are going
    to preach, each band will take three or four lyrics,
    some tracts, a cymbal, and a jalar or tambourine. When
    we are singing many men and women and children will
    come to hear us.

    “After our preaching is over we take account of the
    men, women and children who come to hear our preaching.
    Most of them will ask questions, and we will answer
    them. Many of them will abuse the name of our Lord
    Jesus Christ. Though they abused Him, we won’t leave
    these men, since they don’t understand what Christ
    has done for the world. We have meeting every Friday
    evening, and in that meeting we will give our reports
    of the men who heard the Word of Christ.”

Referring to his studies, he writes:

    “Now there are four classes, viz., matriculation class,
    the fifth class, the lower secondary class, and the
    lower fourth class. There are five teachers, including
    our manager. Each class changes its lessons after
    one hour. Our manager teaches general English for the
    four classes, and also takes English history for the
    fifth class, and science, physics and chemistry for
    the sixth class. He shows many good examples and gives
    us good games. He is very kind toward us. We have many
    sorts of games. Tennis and football and cricket and
    gymnasium exercises. Our manager teaches us cricket
    every evening.”

As this boy is writing to the one who supports him, he closes in the
following manner:

    “I thank the Lord for having given me a supporter. I
    render my warm and delightful obeisance to respected
    and dear madam. I remain your most obedient

                                   “PONNOR ISAAC JOSEPH.”

After reading this letter, which is not a fancy sketch, picture
in your mind Joseph, his surroundings, a young Hindoo boy, whose
dark-skinned face glows enthusiastically with his love for Christ
and with his ardent desire to tell others of his love, writing in a
strange tongue to a lady whom he has never seen. He has her photograph,
and has received letters from her, but her voice and manner are only
conjectures in his mind. He is writing to this lady, who has been the
means of his salvation, of freeing him from his yoke borne by his
countrymen. Try to picture this, and then see if in your own heart
there is not a strong desire to free more than one boy in that dark
land. In freeing one, you free others: do not forget that.



“I WISH I WERE A GENERAL.”


    “If wishes were horses,
     Beggars might ride.”

“Have you ever heard that, Jo?”

“_Heard_ it, what kind of a bringing up has a fellow had, do you
think? You know well enough that ever since I was in knickerbockers,
that immortal rhyme has been drilled into me. I’m sick and tired of
sermonizing, and all I have to say is, if you don’t wish for something
grand, something beyond you, you never will amount to anything.”

“That is true, Jo, but wishing without action will not accomplish much.
I’ve heard you make at least twenty wishes this morning. One, ‘I wish I
was rich!’ just as though that were anything new; all boys wish that.
Then you wished you were somebody great, somebody famous, like Cæsar
or the Czar of Russia, or the President of the United States. Then
you wished your father could only let you have a college education so
that you might be a lawyer. And then, to go on to smaller matters, you
wished it was Christmas, so that you might have vacation. And lastly,
you wished you were a fine bicycle rider, so that you might win the
prize in the coming race. I tell you, old fellow, I long ago learned
such a wholesome lesson on the wishing point, that it made me over new,
so to speak.”

“How so, John? now I am interested, for I thought you had been perfect
from your youth up.”

“Well, to begin with the beginning and make an out-and-out confession,
I’ll have to introduce you to my Uncle Charles. I wish you knew General
Journay; I know you would like him even if he is an odd-looking man;
he was once very handsome. He is too sensible to think he is handsome
now, though, for there is no denying that he’s fat. He says it is
constitutional, and maybe it is. I notice he is very uncomfortable,
short of breath, you know; gets a red face in climbing up the stairs
to the elevated road, and all that, but he’s jolly and good, and says
he wants me to be a manly man, and I am going to try my best to please
him. You know I am not as rich in relations as you are, for my parents
died when I was a baby, and I never had either brothers or sisters;
perhaps that’s one reason I think so much of you, Jo. Well, to go on
with my story, when I was about twelve years old I went to visit for a
week at my Uncle Charles’ home. He was delighted to have me with him,
and I never tired of his companionship, or of looking at his soldier’s
uniform, his sword and his medals. One day I said to him, ‘Oh, Uncle,
I wish I were a General,’ and he replied, ‘There is no reason why you
cannot be one, my boy, if the right material is only in you.’”

“‘What do you mean by right material, Uncle?’ I inquired.

“‘Why, humility, obedience, courage, honesty, truthfulness.’

“‘I did not know that soldiers were ever humble.’

“‘You must be humble enough to enter the lowest ranks, obedient enough
to follow orders, courageous enough to face any emergency, honest
enough to submit to pain rather than to steal, and truthful enough
never to soil your lips or conscience with a lie.’

“Then my uncle told me of his own boyhood, of his poverty, his
hindrances, his temptations; and I saw that the rank of General did not
come by wishing, but by the greatest endurance, study, and hard work. I
tell you what, Jo, as I listened to his story I felt so ashamed, and so
small, I thought I would like to crawl away in a hole, anywhere almost,
if I could only hide, for you know my uncle is such a noble, grand man.
Then, too, my uncle told me of our great inventors, officers, rulers,
whom the world is delighted to honor, and I saw that wishing had but
little to do with their achievements and successes. I saw I had to
buckle on my own armor and go to work.

“That night I could scarcely sleep; I kept thinking how insignificant
uncle must think me, for I knew I had often wished for this, that and
the other thing in his presence, and so when I did sleep I dreamed
that I was in the woods, and I thought that all the bushes and trees
were waving, and one big branch seemed like a long, bare arm beckoning
to me. I felt an awesome, queer, uncanny feeling, and I was sure I
was losing my way. I saw one and another path, but which one to take
I knew not, when suddenly I heard a laugh; this frightened me so much
that I jumped; then a voice said, ‘You little goosey-gander, what a
brave soldier you would make, to be sure, afraid of a little laugh;’
and then I heard ha! ha! ha! and what seemed to me to be the most
uproarious laughter, the shout of a hundred fairies. Soon a tiny old
woman approached me saying, ‘I am a fairy queen. Ask for whatever you
may wish while you are in my domain?’

“At once I exclaimed: ‘I wish to be the oldest General living.’ And
there I was, a general in very truth, but so old I could scarcely
see, so deaf I could scarcely hear; and I was dressed in a costume
similar to my uncle’s. My hands were wrinkled, a long beard hung over
my breast, but it was as white as snow. My mouth felt so queer that
I lifted my hand to discover the reason, and alas! my teeth were all
gone. I tried to walk, but I was so stiff I could scarcely place one
foot before the other. ‘Oh, what a fool I have been,’ I thought. ‘If
only I were a boy again? Oh, Uncle Charles, Uncle Charles!’ I screamed.

“‘Why, my boy, what is the matter, you were groaning and moaning so in
your sleep, I thought something must be wrong?’ were his words.

“Wasn’t I grateful, though, to find it was only a dream. It seemed too
good to be true, to learn that I was really a boy again, that life
was before, and not behind, me. I tell you, Jo, I could scarcely wait
for day to come, to get at positive work. And since that horrible
nightmare, which taught me the silliness of wishing, I have been a
changed boy, and I do not think I will ever fall into that purposeless
talk again. But you don’t like sermons, excuse me, Jo.”

“You are a good fellow, John; I should not be worthy of friendship such
as yours, if I did not benefit by what you have told me. I will try to
follow your example. What do you say to our both being manly men?”

“Those words have the right ring.” And so saying the two friends walked
off arm in arm.



A HEBREW CHRISTIAN.


Sydney Arnheim was a Jew. I say was, because he has thrown off the yoke
of the Jewish faith, and this little story will tell you how it all
came about.

Sydney is an only child; his parents are rich; his father, a famous
Wall Street broker, is a power among his kind; his mother also belongs
to a wealthy Hebrew family, and her refined taste and education show
clearly in her surroundings. Anything that appeals to her exquisite
judgment is purchased, so that Sydney’s home shows everywhere the touch
of elegance, as well as the fitness of perfection. Sydney’s own room
bears the print of her careful taste, and yet prominent among the rich
hangings and delicate furnishing you see a Winchester rifle, a trout
pole, also a buck’s antlers, a blue crane, a kingfisher, and several
other well-known birds, all so skilfully prepared by the taxidermist
that you could scarcely be blamed if you thought them yet alive. Yes,
Sydney is a regular boy, and loves to keep trophies of his sport in
sight, as well as his gun and trout pole. He says at times, “It makes
it seem as if I’m in the Adirondack woods whenever I look at them,
and simply lifting my rod recalls some experiences with papa in the
boat with our guide, or else wading the streams with my tutor and
drawing out big fish.” So Sydney’s mother, knowing the comfort these
recollections bring, allows her son to place his sporting equipments
just where and as he pleases. Thus the room has an odd, menagerie style
of appearance. And thus the home of this Israelitish family everywhere
tells of comfort and luxury.

Sydney, from his babyhood, was carefully trained in the customs
and belief of his people. His mother, so frequently his companion,
constantly talked about the greatness of his lineage, and told him of
the patriarchs, legislators, warriors, singers and prophets which were
among the Hebrew people. She also told him of Abraham and Moses, and of
the covenant with Abraham at Jehovah-jireh, “In thy seed shall all the
nations of the earth be blessed,” and also what the Lord said to Jacob
at Bethel, “The land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and
to thy seed.” And she daily urged her son to walk in the footsteps and
keep the covenants of his people, and always to serve the Lord God of
Israel. The rabbi also would frequently visit their home, and Sydney
was accustomed to talk to him, as well as to receive the old man’s
instruction and blessing. Sydney loved to hear from him the stories of
Moses, Aaron and Joshua; of the Tishbite and his servant Elisha; of
Solomon and the temple; of the son of Jesse, David, the sweet singer,
and of the promise of the Messiah to come.

And so it was when Sydney had attained his seventeenth year that when
asked what he would most like for his birthday-gift he replied, “The
education that will fit me the most thoroughly to preach, not alone to
my people, but to win many erring ones, believers in the ‘false Christ’
to turn to the true faith.” He was at this time, therefore, and for
seven anxious, wearisome months afterwards, the _Jewest_ of all Jews, a
devoted follower of Moses, but not of the Lamb.

About the time of the birthday above alluded to, there came for a visit
of three months a cousin of Sydney, a little girl about three years his
junior. She, young as she was, however, was a Christian, and had the
Easter previous publicly confessed Christ, and united with the same
church her parents had long attended.

The question might readily be asked, “Since she was Sydney’s cousin,
how was it that she was not also a believer in the Hebrew faith?” The
reason is this. Her mother was Sydney’s father’s sister, and when very
young, only seventeen years of age, had surprised and grieved her
family by stating she was about to marry a gentleman who was not of
her religion. Many words regarding the matter were exchanged at the
time, but they were useless in preventing the marriage, and a year
later she saddened her parents yet more by renouncing her Hebrew faith,
and connecting herself with the church of her husband. He was a most
exemplary gentleman, however, and, notwithstanding his religion, his
wife’s people could not fail to have a most profound respect for him.
So, in time, the families visited back and forth, but the topic of
religion was never introduced. Sydney’s father would sometimes sigh
wearily, when talking of his sister, and say his hope was that she
would yet return to the belief of her forefathers, and that in time all
must be well.

So now the little Edith was to spend many weeks with her Jewish
relations, but she had been told to be careful about her attendance at
church, and ever watchful of her conduct, indeed to act in every way
as the child of the dear Christ whom she loved so well. Her mother,
however, before consigning her to her brother’s care, simply said to
her, “I will pray for you, dear, that your faith fail not,” and “Have
no fear, mamma,” was the sweet reply. “Jesus will be with me in Uncle
Nathan’s home, as well as in my own. Perhaps He will even have work
for me to do there. You know Dr. M—— last Sabbath morning talked to us
on the subject of missions, and said there were many kinds, and while
we should pray and work for the foreign and domestic fields, we must
also remember those of our own household, indeed, all everywhere, who
do not love the Saviour.” So Edith’s mother had no fear for her child,
and into the uncle’s home there came a blessing, the measure of which
cannot be counted by any earthly rule or computation, for who can
measure the joy of even one soul turned to the Saviour?

Edith and Sydney were now great friends, for while they had known each
other always, the constant companionship led to the warmest friendship,
and they were therefore as good comrades as a boy and girl cousin
could well be. Neither religion nor any topic bearing on it was ever
discussed before Edith. She never attended their church, nor they hers.
When the Sabbath came she would always be accompanied to the church
door, and when the service was out some member of the family would be
found without waiting to walk home with her, and during her entire
visit neither by word or action was she allowed to feel she stood
apart from her Jewish relations, and therefore the time passed all too
rapidly onward. She remembered her promise to her mother, and most
earnestly she prayed to God to direct and help her. She also prayed for
her uncle and aunt, imploring the Father in heaven to lead them into
the light; but particularly she prayed for her cousin Sydney. They were
such comrades, so nearly of an age, and yet she felt there was a great
gulf fixed, and therefore she constantly plead that he might learn of
the Christ, the Saviour.

One day, just after a most fervent prayer for Sydney, her cousin
approached her unobserved while she was reading from the New Testament.
He exclaimed, on seeing the title, “Why, Edith, I never had a copy of
that book in my hands. I should like to read yours sometime, if you
don’t mind.”

“Mind! why no, Sydney. Take it along with you now.”

And he did. When her cousin left, Edith prayed as she never had before,
beseeching the Father to let the scales drop from his eyes and show
unto him the Christ. And God did open the boy’s eyes. He did not read
through a glass darkly, but with clearest vision. The brightest light
fell on the divine Word, the light which later led to his giving up his
old Hebrew faith, and his acceptance of Jesus.

All did not come at once. At the first reading he was troubled,
anxious, but not satisfied. He had many old questions to settle; he had
much pride to put aside; he spent many hours, and at times away into
the night in prayer. But peace at last came, the peace which he feels
will endure until the day when he will see the King in His beauty.

And now Sydney longs for the conversion of his parents, and of all of
his people. His wish is to preach Christ, and so do all in his power
to lead his brethren, the Jews, unto the everlasting joy of the New
Jerusalem.



THE BABY’S LESSON.


It was blossom-time, and in the quiet of the early May morning the
church bells rung out their loving call. “Come, come, come!” they
seemed to say, and, accepting the invitation, we shortly found
ourselves sitting, with other strangers, in the Episcopal church of a
favorite resort.

It was during the Scripture lesson that a little maiden of about
four years of age quietly walked up the long aisle, looking to right
and left, scanning the faces in every pew, until she had reached the
chancel. The clergyman’s voice was no doubt familiar to her, for she
showed no timidity. Not seeing the one she sought, she turned and
tripped down the aisle again. But on nearing the door she put out her
hands and extended her arms in a pleading baby fashion, as if to say,
“I do not want to go away. I cannot find my papa or mamma, but will not
some one lift me up? I came to church to stay.” And a kind-hearted man,
seeing the gesture, took up the baby beside him.

The little one reverently entered into the worship of the hour. As
prayer followed prayer, the blue eyes closed tight, and the wavy
golden hair fell forward over the bent head. At the time of singing
she rose with others, and her voice carolled out the tune, though her
words were those of her own devising. One little hand tightly clasped
a penny, and as the collection-plate was passed she eagerly dropped in
her contribution.

It was time to go home, and as nearly all present were strangers, many
watched to see what the baby girl would do. A mother by my side said
to her, “I have a little girl at home, about as big as you. I would
not want her to be lost, and if you will tell me where you live I
will take you home.” Then a quiet dignity seemed to possess the wee
maiden, as with courteous action she pointed to a large white house
about one hundred feet away. Lifting the blue eyes to the lady’s face,
she replied, “I live there. I love to come to church, and I thought I
should find papa; he always goes, but”—gravely shaking her curls—“I
couldn’t find him this morning. But I can go home by my own self.” And
then, child fashion, she ran on, as though to satisfy us that she knew
the way.

Walking under the apple boughs back to the hotel, we thought of the
sermon this child’s presence had preached. And the question came, Why
do not all parents so train their little ones that they love God’s
house? This little girl had given the congregation a lesson which
should make a children’s day of every Sabbath the year around. The
Bible says, “Their angels do always behold the face of the Father,” and
“Unless ye become as a little child, ye cannot enter the kingdom.”

Where young children sit side by side with their parents in church,
and so learn to “remember the Sabbath day,” they will early wish to
consecrate their lives to Christ. They will not enter heaven “so as by
fire,” but “as kings crowned,” for they will not wait to work for the
Master until the time when the “grinders shall cease because they are
few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened,” but will use
the hours of every day as in God’s sight, and in the companionship of
Him who is invisible.



PARLOR FORTUNE-TELLING.


Nothing so much lends enchantment to the hours or wings them to merry
flight as fortune-telling. And particularly fascinating is the art
of foretelling the future through the medium of palm-reading. When a
bright girl who has the faculty of revealing character and prophesying
the future by inspecting the hand is in a drawing-room, the hostess
need not fear for the pleasure of her guests, for the fair magician
will take care of beaux and belles alike, leading them on to happy
marriages and boundless wealth (for no real fortune-teller ever forgets
matrimony and money). Nor will the young people alone be anxious to
learn what is written in the palms of their hands, for more or less
superstition lingers with us all. And what if there has been a small
error regarding character-reading, or a trifling discrepancy relative
to past events, one happy guess will cause all such mistakes to be
forgotten: and besides, the necessity for verification is seldom
urgent. Palmistry is not altogether pastime, any more than divination
is altogether jugglery, for no hand is exactly like another hand; the
intersection of the lines, the stars, the mounts, the texture, really
do supply a guide to the character of the owner. And if, added to the
knowledge of hand-reading, you are a student of the face—and every
one is more or less a physiognomist—you will arrive at fairly correct
conclusions.

Palmistry is linked with astrology: the first finger belongs to
Jupiter, the middle to Saturn, the third to the Sun, the small finger
to Mercury; Venus is in the thick part below the thumb, the plain of
Mars is directly under the mount of Mercury, the moon controls all
beneath the kingdom of Mars. This link between the planets and the hand
was arbitrary; astronomers distributed deities among the planets, and
the planets were supposed to partake of the nature of the gods and to
influence life.

Palmistry also depends on analogy and symbolism. Every mark on the
hand has some mystical meaning. A star denotes success, barred lines
indicate obstacles; where several parallel lines are formed instead
of one, they show a variety of pursuits, instead of force only in one
direction. If lines are long, gently curved, and red, they indicate a
gentle disposition; if you have a special talent, there will surely
be a perpendicular line from the base of the hand toward the fingers;
this line is sometimes doubled. Long tapering fingers indicate high
mental qualities, a love of the arts, a thirst for knowledge, and
strength of memory, while the contrary shows a tendency to rapid
progress at first, only to be followed by failure in all intellectual
undertakings. People with short fingers are apt to be impulsive, if
they are very short, they indicate lack of tact. Long-fingered people
go into detail, and are punctiliously careful about trifles. Twisted
fingers with short nails show tyranny and a worrying temperament. If
the fingers fit closely together, their owner is apt to be avaricious;
if smooth, they indicate indiscretion and talkativeness. But if twisted
and showing spaces between, the person is sympathetic and generous.
Sensitiveness is shown by the small fleshy protuberances, which stand
out from the curved surface of the finger-tips. If your fingers are
broad, you will love things for their practical uses; your taste will
be for industries, mechanics, commerce. If your finger-tips are square,
you will be fond of literature, logic, language, you will be inclined
to theorize, and you will have respect for authority. The joints of the
fingers have an importance, so they too must be carefully examined.
Indeed, no one part of the hand can be taken alone; a joint or a line
or a mount may so change the meaning of what you have already observed,
as to greatly modify your conclusions. Conic fingers show a love for
the beautiful, the ideal and romantic, but the well-developed joints
may add moral force, as also does a large thumb. Hands that are always
white, regardless of temperature, tell of selfishness and conceit,
lack of sympathy for the sorrows of others. Soft hands tell of a lazy,
lethargic temperament; hard hands show a love of exercise and labor.
Soft hands indicate tenderness rather than fidelity, while hard hands
indicate true love, but not much tenderness or passion. Smoothness
of the hands shows delicacy of mind. A wrinkled hand, if soft, shows
sensitiveness; if hard, irritability. Pale lines in a hand show a
phlegmatic disposition, in a man amounting to effeminacy.

Each mount is of as much import as are the indications found on the
fingers. On the mount of Jupiter you will learn of honor, ambition,
religion. If it is very large it shows tyranny and ostentation; if
small, idleness, egoism, vulgarity. A cross found on this mount will
tell of a happy marriage; if a star is found as well, the marriage will
be wealthy and satisfactory to the highest degree. A spot on this mount
shows ignominy and dishonor.

The mount of Saturn, which is at the base of the second finger, tells
of caution, credulousness, timidity. If very large, the individual
will be melancholy, quiet, and morbid. A solitary line on this mount
indicates bad fortune.

The mount of the Sun, when prominent, insures success, genius, pride,
eloquence. If the mount is extremely large, wealth extravagance,
luxury. A single line on this mount means glory.

Below the little finger on the outside of the hand we look for the
mount of Mercury, and there learn of invention, speculation, agility.
Excess of this mount indicates cunning, treachery, and falsehood.

Below this mount we find Mars, which if very prominent, shows the owner
to be brusque and violent; if it is small, look out for cowardice and
meanness.

The mount of the Moon, which is found lower still, denotes a love
of the mysterious; those possessing this mount to a high degree are
also inclined to revery, as well as to idleness. They are likewise
capricious, changeful, and irritable. In hard hands you will also read
discontent and fanaticism.

The most important of all the lines on the hand is the line of life. If
long, clear, and straight, it shows long life and good character; if
pale and broad, the indications are ill health and a weak disposition;
if thick and red, the owner is apt to be violent to brutality; if
varying in thickness, this will show a fitful and high temper.

The greatest caution must be used by any reader of the hand, and
before even a pretension is made to judge character or to foretell the
future, much careful study of the many books on this subject should be
given. The student must learn from different authorities, as well as
by thoughtful study and comparison for himself. Many rules must be
applied, and there are many conflicting forces to harmonize. The hand
is of the utmost importance in human economy. Aristotle denominated it
“the organ of the organs.” After the murder of Cicero at Caieta, not
only his head but also his hands were exhibited in the Roman Forum.
The homologies have been traced between the human hand and the paws
of the brute creation, and it has been proved that to man alone was
the perfect hand given, exquisite in beauty as well as paramount in
usefulness.

Palmistry is an old science. As early as the year 1504 there was a
book published in the city of London on _The Art of Foretelling the
Future Events by Inspection of the Hand_. It has been asserted that
Homer wrote on the lines of the hand. Probably most people are familiar
with the verse assigned by the superstitions as Scriptural warrant for
indulging in this popular art: Job xxxvii. 7, “He sealeth the hand of
every man, that all may know his work.”



CHURCH COURTESY.


It was only a smile as the Hymn-book and Psalter were offered; it did
not cost the young man anything, but it gave us, the recipients of
his courtesy, pleasant satisfaction. We did not feel as if the books
were grudgingly given, but rather that a sympathetic bond had united
us, that we would like to know this cordial generous young fellow, and
thought if this were a sample of the people in that church, we would
like to make it our home. The entire service was so heightened by the
incident that we scarcely missed our old familiar surroundings, and
really had almost forgotten that we were strangers, so one with us the
people appeared; and when the preacher later gave for his text the
words, “The greatest of these is Love,” it seemed only natural that
this should have been the thought selected.

By contrast, we felt severely the difference which the following
Sabbath brought. It was again the early service, and we sat strangers
in another city church. The opening hymn, which was not a familiar
one, was announced, and an old man sitting in a pew behind gave us his
book. Two young men occupying the seat with him each had a hymn-book
with notes, but instead of looking on the same book, so having one
to spare, they each selfishly kept their own, neither offering one to
the old gentleman who, I later learned, had gone without for our sake,
nor giving a book to two ladies who were in the pew with me, and were
strangers like ourselves. As a result, we all felt uncomfortable; the
clergyman’s sermon, excellent though it was, did not meet with proper
response. Our thoughts were divided, the atmosphere was unpleasant,
we claimed that the church seemed very cheerless, that even the
lighting of it was not satisfactory, and, indeed, we were so unhappy
by the ungracious action of the two young men back of us that we were
glad when the benediction was pronounced, and we could, borrowing an
illustration from the time of the Apostles, shake the dust off our
feet, and turn toward home.

The question is sometimes asked, Why are there so many vacant pews in
our churches? And the blame is laid on the hard-working minister. Well,
his shoulders are broad and accustomed to carrying burdens. All the
sorrows and annoyances of the people become a part of his daily load.
But stop. Let us put the answer to this question where it belongs, not
on the minister, but nine-tenths of the time on the congregation. “Be
not forgetful to entertain strangers,” are the words of the Bible, and
we cannot go to a better book for advice. “Be courteous,” are also two
words found there.

A young man, not a church-goer, once said to me, “I wandered into Dr.
L.’s church the other morning, and I was shown into one of the very
best pews. Later the family came, and they gave me every attention.
When the service was over, the gentleman who sat at the head of the pew
allowed his family to pass out, and waited for me. Then offering his
hand, said he was very glad I had been put in his pew, and he hoped I
would come to church again very soon, every Sunday if I would, and then
he added, ‘Young man, don’t ask an usher for a seat, come right in here
with me any time.’

“Now,” continued this young gentleman, “that’s what I call business.
I enjoyed the service that morning, was not made to feel as if I was
an offscourer, but as if I was welcome. I’ll go again soon; that’s the
right kind of a church. The singing was beautiful, and I’m fond of
music; the sermon, too, touched the right place, but I think what had
more to do with it than anything else, was that courteous family and
the hearty hand-shake afterwards.”

We, neither of us, can weigh the influence we have on our neighbor.
Perhaps it is better for our own peace we cannot. But we must remember
a smile may save a soul. “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these, ye have done it unto me.”



A BRAVE BOY.


“How shall our class raise one hundred dollars for the benefit of the
church-debt fund?” was a question recently put to eight young girls by
their Sunday-school teacher.

“Have a fair in the early fall; we will work for it all summer,” was
the first answer.

“No; that might interfere with the ladies’ fair, which comes during
December. It is to be a mammoth one this year, and we must not
anticipate the event nor risk retarding its prosperity, but rather do
our part to push it forward.”

“Suppose, then, we have a cake sale,” was the suggestion by the eldest
one of the party. That was at once vetoed, as more properly belonging
to our mothers and grandmothers.

“I tell you what, girls!” ejaculated Jessie, “let us make candy; get
all the orders we can and supply our customers. We can make lots of
money that way.”

“Yes, if we can get the customers,” added Hattie, “_I_ thought maybe
we could get up an entertainment, and so I brought a book containing a
colloquy in three parts, which will just take in all of us. There are
eight characters, so it would fit exactly.”

“Good for you, Hattie,” was the quick reply, and the bright eyes and
excited manner of each of the scholars showed that such enthusiasm
could not fall to result in success.

Later a satisfactory programme was arranged, consisting of music,
recitations, tableaux and the above-mentioned colloquy. The
entertainment was to be given in the parlors of one of the scholars,
and the tickets for young and old were to be offered for the sum of
twenty-five cents each.

My! how the girls worked, not alone in the necessary preparation for
their part of the programme, but in the sale of tickets, which were
disposed of rapidly.

At last the much-looked-for night had come, and never did stars seem
more brilliant, or moonlight more beautiful. Such a crowd! Long
before the time for showing the tableaux, which were to open the
entertainment, the parlors and halls and even the stairs were full.
A man was stationed at the door to receive the tickets and any money
which might be offered.

But was it any wonder that little Theodore Vandervoort, who is
connected with one of the younger classes of the Sunday-school, found
himself surrounded by so many bigger and older people, that he was not
seen? or that the money he had expected to give at the door should not
be taken?

What a temptation this now presented! His father and mother would
never know. The twenty-five cents would buy a great deal of candy,
or the new ball he wanted so much, or a box of figs, or several
bananas, of which he was very fond. But no, Theodore was an honest boy
and would therefore scorn to use money which was not his own. This
twenty-five cents had been given to him to pay for the entertainment
he was now enjoying, and he would not expend it for any other purpose.
So the following morning, before he entered school, he paid his debt,
personally going to the house of the teacher who had charge of the
entertainment and, with a few words of explanation, leaving the money.

And so Theodore Vandervoort proved himself a hero, an example to many
an older boy, as well as to many fathers and mothers.

Even in a small boy we see the future man, and if God wills that
Theodore Vandervoort shall grow to manhood, we are not afraid to
predict great things of him, to prophesy that he will be a man above
reproach, a king among his fellows.

May the boys who read this story beware of falling into temptation,
or doing the first dishonest act; but rather let them be brave, noble
and upright, as was little Theodore, and so receive not only peace of
conscience in the present life, but the joy which is eternal.

As for the entertainment, it met with the success that generally
attends zeal and hard work, and so overflowing was the treasury that
the girls scarcely needed the added twenty-five cents. Yet honest
Theodore, in taking his first opportunity to get out of debt, which is
out of danger also, had set for all who read these words an excellent
example.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Varied hyphenation retained.

Page 18, “carboard” changed to “cardboard” (a square of cardboard)

Page 23, “varities” changed to “varieties” (think what varieties of)

Pages 25, 149 “where-ever” split over two lines was changed to
“wherever” (Girl runs wherever) (may put them wherever)

Page 57, “though” changed to “through” (through which he has)

Page 57, “andthis” changed to “and this” (and this game should)

Page 91, “fete” changed to “fête” (the popular _fête_)

Page 96, “matinee” changed to “matinée” (occasional matinée performance)

Page 97, “mad” changed to “made” (be made of white)

Page 162, “fastents” changed to “fastens” (instantly fastens itself)

Page 184, “couse” changed to “course” (course, the pansy-leaf)

Page 189, “maccaroni” changed to “macaroni” (but not macaroni)

Page 194, “urdona” changed to “urdon” (own esog urdon)

Page 194, “Mda” changed to “Nda” (Nda lilst i okwn)

Page 194, “aec dn” changed to “aecdn” (Het iteesvf aecdn)

Page 194, “f’tfrdnei” changed to “fetfrdnei” (Os fetfrdnei rmof)

Page 196, “eyes” changed to “hair” (hair was so brown)

Page 199, “tlp” changed to “tip” (tip of nose)

Page 199, “smilar” changed to “similar” (similar to example)

Page 200, “wth” changed to “with” (with pots, pans, dishes)

Page 235, “similiar” changed to “similar” (similar ludicrous blunders)

Page 240, split across two lines, “forget-getting” changed to
“forgetting” (the trouble, forgetting)

Page 249, “the” changed to “this” (negligent this time)

Page 255, “immates” changed to “inmates” (difficulty the inmates of)

Page 316, paragraph break introduced after the line ending, “with me
anytime” as the quotation pattern seemed to suggest it.

Page 319, “eharge” changed to “charge” (charge of the entertainment)





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