{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_45762/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_45762","id":"gutenberg_45762","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45762","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: History - American","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's songs -- United States","Games with music"],"text":"[Illustration: CHILDREN'S GAMES.\n\n[_From an old engraving by Van der Venne._]]\n\n\n\n\n GAMES AND SONGS\n\n OF\n\n AMERICAN CHILDREN\n\n\n COLLECTED AND COMPARED\n\n BY\n\n WILLIAM WELLS NEWELL\n\n NEW YORK\n\n HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS\n\n 1884\n\n Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by\n\n HARPER & BROTHERS,\n\n In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.\n\n _All rights reserved._\n\n\n\n\nEDITOR'S NOTE.\n\n\nThe existence of any children's tradition in America, maintained\nindependently of print, has hitherto been scarcely noticed. Yet it\nappears that, in this minor but curious branch of folk-lore, the vein\nin the United States is both richer and purer than that so far worked\nin Great Britain. These games supply material for the elucidation of\na subject hitherto obscure: they exhibit the true relation of ancient\nEnglish lore of this kind to that of the continent of Europe; while\nthe amusements of youth in other languages are often illustrated by\nAmerican custom, which compares favorably, in respect of compass and\nantiquity, with that of European countries.\n\nOf the two branches into which the lore of the nursery may be\ndivided--the tradition of children and the tradition of nurses--the\npresent collection includes only the former. It is devoted to formulas\nof play which children have preserved from generation to generation,\nwithout the intervention, often without the knowledge, of older minds.\nWere these--trifling as they often are--merely local and individual,\nthey might be passed over with a smile; but being English and European,\nthey form not the least curious chapter of the history of manners\nand customs. It has therefore been an essential part of the editor's\nobject to exhibit their correspondences and history; but, unwilling to\novercloud with cumbrous research that healthy and bright atmosphere\nwhich invests all that really belongs to childhood, he has thought it\nbest to remand to an appendix the necessary references, retaining in\nthe text only so much as may be reasonably supposed of interest to the\nreaders in whom one or another page may awaken early memories.\n\nHe has to express sincere thanks to the friends, in different parts of\nthe country, whose kind assistance has rendered possible this volume,\nin which almost every one of the older states is represented; and he\nwill be grateful for such further information as may tend to render the\ncollection more accurate and complete.\n\nThe melodies which accompany many of the games have been written from\nthe recitation of children by S. Austen Pearce, Mus. Doc. Oxon.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n PAGE\n\n EDITOR'S NOTE. v\n\n INTRODUCTORY.\n\n I. THE DIFFUSION AND ORIGIN OF AMERICAN GAME-RHYMES. 1\n II. THE BALLAD, THE DANCE, AND THE GAME. 8\n III. MAY-GAMES. 13\n IV. THE INVENTIVENESS OF CHILDREN. 22\n V. THE CONSERVATISM OF CHILDREN. 28\n\n I. LOVE-GAMES.\n\n No.\n 1. KNIGHTS OF SPAIN. 39\n 2. THREE KINGS. 46\n 3. HERE COMES A DUKE. 47\n 4. TREAD, TREAD THE GREEN GRASS. 50\n 5. I WILL GIVE YOU A PAPER OF PINS. 51\n 6. THERE SHE STANDS, A LOVELY CREATURE. 55\n 7. GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O! 56\n 8. THE WIDOW WITH DAUGHTERS TO MARRY. 56\n 9. PHILANDER'S MARCH. 58\n 10. MARRIAGE. 59\n\n II. HISTORIES.\n\n 11. MISS JENNIA JONES. 63\n 12. DOWN SHE COMES, AS WHITE AS MILK. 67\n 13. LITTLE SALLY WATERS. 70\n 14. HERE SITS THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 70\n 15. GREEN GRAVEL. 71\n 16. UNCLE JOHN. 72\n 17. KING ARTHUR WAS KING WILLIAM'S SON. 73\n 18. LITTLE HARRY HUGHES AND THE DUKE'S DAUGHTER. 75\n 19. BARBARA ALLEN. 78\n\n III. PLAYING AT WORK.\n\n 20. VIRGINIA REEL. 80\n 21. OATS, PEASE, BEANS, AND BARLEY GROWS. 80\n 22. WHO'LL BE THE BINDER? 84\n 23. AS WE GO ROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH. 86\n 24. DO, DO, PITY MY CASE. 87\n 25. WHEN I WAS A SHOEMAKER. 88\n 26. HERE WE COME GATHERING NUTS OF MAY. 89\n 27. HERE I BREW AND HERE I BAKE. 90\n 28. DRAW A BUCKET OF WATER. 90\n 29. THREADING THE NEEDLE. 91\n\n IV. HUMOR AND SATIRE.\n\n 30. SOLDIER, SOLDIER, WILL YOU MARRY ME? 93\n 31. QUAKER COURTSHIP. 94\n 32. LAZY MARY. 96\n 33. WHISTLE, DAUGHTER, WHISTLE. 96\n 34. THERE WERE THREE JOLLY WELSHMEN. 97\n 35. A HALLOWE'EN RHYME. 98\n 36. THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION. 99\n 37. OLD GRIMES. 100\n 38. THE BAPTIST GAME. 101\n 39. TRIALS, TROUBLES, AND TRIBULATIONS. 102\n 40. HAPPY IS THE MILLER. 102\n 41. THE MILLER OF GOSPORT. 103\n\n V. FLOWER ORACLES, ETC\n\n 42. FLOWER ORACLES. 105\n 43. USE OF FLOWERS IN GAMES. 107\n 44. COUNTING APPLE-SEEDS. 109\n 45. ROSE IN THE GARDEN. 110\n 46. THERE WAS A TREE STOOD IN THE GROUND. 111\n 47. GREEN! 113\n\n VI. BIRD AND BEAST.\n\n 48. MY HOUSEHOLD. 115\n 49. FROG-POND. 116\n 50. BLOODY TOM. 117\n 51. BLUE-BIRDS AND YELLOW-BIRDS. 118\n 52. DUCKS FLY. 119\n\n VII. HUMAN LIFE.\n\n 53. KING AND QUEEN. 120\n 54. FOLLOW YOUR LEADER. 122\n 55. TRUTH. 122\n 56. INITIATION. 122\n 57. JUDGE AND JURY. 123\n 58. THREE JOLLY SAILORS. 124\n 59. MARCHING TO QUEBEC. 125\n 60. SUDDEN DEPARTURE. 126\n 61. SCORN. 126\n\n VIII. THE PLEASURES OF MOTION.\n\n 62. RING AROUND THE ROSIE. 127\n 63. GO ROUND AND ROUND THE VALLEY. 128\n 64. THE FARMER IN THE DELL. 129\n 65. THE GAME OF RIVERS. 130\n 66. QUAKER, HOW IS THEE? 130\n 67. DARBY JIG. 131\n 68. RIGHT ELBOW IN. 131\n 69. MY MASTER SENT ME. 131\n 70. HUMPTY DUMPTY. 132\n 71. PEASE PORRIDGE HOT. 132\n 72. RHYMES FOR A RACE. 132\n 73. TWINE THE GARLAND. 133\n 74. HOPPING-DANCE. 133\n\n IX. MIRTH AND JEST.\n\n 75. CLUB FIST. 134\n 76. ROBIN'S ALIVE. 135\n 77. LAUGHTER GAMES. 136\n 78. BACHELOR'S KITCHEN. 137\n 79. THE CHURCH AND THE STEEPLE. 138\n 80. WHAT COLOR? 138\n 81. BEETLE AND WEDGE. 138\n 82. PRESENT AND ADVISE. 139\n 83. GENTEEL LADY. 139\n 84. BEAST, BIRD, OR FISH. 140\n 85. WHEEL OF FORTUNE. 140\n 86. CATCHES. 141\n 87. INTERY MINTERY. 142\n 88. REDEEMING FORFEITS. 143\n 89. OLD MOTHER TIPSY-TOE. 143\n 90. WHO STOLE THE CARDINAL'S HAT? 145\n\n X. GUESSING-GAMES.\n\n 91. ODD OR EVEN. 147\n 92. HUL GUL. 147\n 93. HOW MANY FINGERS? 148\n 94. RIGHT OR LEFT. 149\n 95. UNDER WHICH FINGER? 149\n 96. COMES, IT COMES. 150\n 97. HOLD FAST MY GOLD RING. 150\n 98. MY LADY QUEEN ANNE. 151\n 99. THE WANDERING DOLLAR. 151\n 100. THIMBLE IN SIGHT. 152\n\n XI. GAMES OF CHASE.\n\n 101. HOW MANY MILES TO BABYLON? 153\n 102. HAWK AND CHICKENS. 155\n 103. TAG. 158\n 104. DEN. 159\n 105. I SPY. 160\n 106. SHEEP AND WOLF. 161\n 107. BLANK AND LADDER. 161\n 108. BLIND-MAN'S BUFF. 162\n 109. WITCH IN THE JAR. 163\n 110. PRISONER'S BASE. 164\n 111. DEFENCE OF THE CASTLE. 164\n 112. LIL LIL. 165\n 113. CHARLEY BARLEY. 165\n 114. MILKING-PAILS. 166\n 115. STEALING GRAPES. 167\n 116. STEALING STICKS. 168\n 117. HUNT THE SQUIRREL. 168\n\n XII. CERTAIN GAMES OF VERY LITTLE GIRLS.\n\n 118. SAIL THE SHIP. 170\n 119. THREE AROUND. 170\n 120. IRON GATES. 170\n 121. CHARLEY OVER THE WATER. 171\n 122. FROG IN THE SEA. 171\n 123. DEFIANCE. 172\n 124. MY LADY'S WARDROBE. 173\n 125. HOUSEKEEPING. 173\n 126. A MARCH. 174\n 127. RHYMES FOR TICKLING. 174\n\n XIII. BALL, AND SIMILAR SPORTS.\n\n 128. THE \"TIMES\" OF SPORTS. 175\n 129. CAMPING THE BALL. 177\n 130. HAND-BALL. 178\n 131. STOOL-BALL. 179\n 132. CALL-BALL. 181\n 133. HALEY-OVER. 181\n 134. SCHOOL-BALL. 182\n 135. WICKET. 182\n 136. HOCKEY. 182\n 137. ROLL-BALL. 183\n 138. HAT-BALL. 183\n 139. CORNER-BALL. 183\n 140. BASE-BALL. 184\n 141. MARBLES. 185\n 142. CAT. 186\n 143. CHERRY-PITS. 187\n 144. BUTTONS. 187\n 145. HOP-SCOTCH. 188\n 146. DUCK ON A ROCK. 189\n 147. MUMBLETY-PEG. 189\n 148. FIVE-STONES. 190\n\n XIV. RHYMES FOR COUNTING OUT.\n\n 149. COUNTING RHYMES. 194\n\n XV. MYTHOLOGY.\n\n 150. LONDON BRIDGE. 204\n 151. OPEN THE GATES. 212\n 152. WEIGHING. 212\n 153. COLORS. 213\n 154. OLD WITCH. 215\n 155. THE OGREE'S COOP. 221\n 156. TOM TIDLER'S GROUND. 221\n 157. DIXIE'S LAND. 222\n 158. GHOST IN THE CELLAR. 223\n 159. THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS. 223\n 160. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. 224\n\n APPENDIX.\n\n COLLECTIONS OF CHILDREN'S GAMES. 229\n COMPARISONS AND REFERENCES. 232\n\n\n\n\nGAMES AND SONGS\n\nOF\n\nAMERICAN CHILDREN.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY.\n\n\nI.\n\n_THE DIFFUSION AND ORIGIN OF AMERICAN GAME-RHYMES._\n\n \"The hideous Thickets in this place[1] were such that Wolfes\n and Beares nurst up their young from the eyes of all beholders\n in those very places where the streets are full of Girles and\n Boys sporting up and downe, with a continued concourse of\n people.\"--\"Wonder-working Providence in New England,\" 1654.\n\n \"The first settlers came from England, and were of the middle rank,\n and chiefly Friends. * * * In early times weddings were held as\n festivals, probably in imitation of such a practice in England.\n Relations, friends, and neighbors were generally invited, sometimes\n to the amount of one or two hundred. * * * They frequently met\n again next day; and being mostly young people, and from under\n restraint, practised social plays and sports.\"--Watson's \"Account\n of Buckingham and Solebury\" (Pennsylvania; settled about 1682).\n\nA majority of the games of children are played with rhymed formulas,\nwhich have been handed down from generation to generation. These we\nhave collected in part from the children themselves, in greater part\nfrom persons of mature age who remember the usages of their youth;\nfor this collection represents an expiring custom. The vine of oral\ntradition, of popular poetry, which for a thousand years has twined\nand bloomed on English soil, in other days enriching with color\nand fragrance equally the castle and the cottage, is perishing at\nthe roots; its prouder branches have long since been blasted, and\nchildren's song, its humble but longest-flowering offshoot, will soon\nhave shared their fate.\n\nIt proves upon examination that these childish usages of play are\nalmost entirely of old English origin. A few games, it is true, appear\nto have been lately imported from England or Ireland, or borrowed from\nthe French or the German; but these make up only a small proportion of\nthe whole. Many of the rounds still common in our cities, judging from\ntheir incoherence and rudeness, might be supposed inventions of \"Arabs\nof the streets;\" but these invariably prove to be mere corruptions\nof songs long familiar on American soil. The influence of print is\nhere practically nothing; and a rhyme used in the sports of American\nchildren almost always varies from the form of the same game in Great\nBritain, when such now exists.\n\nThere are quarters of the great city of New York in which one hears the\ndialect, and meets the faces, of Cork or Tipperary. But the children\nof these immigrants attend the public school, that mighty engine of\nequalization; their language has seldom more than a trace of accent,\nand they adopt from schoolmates local formulas for games, differing\nmore or less from those which their parents used on the other side\nof the sea. In other parts of the town, a German may live for years,\nneeding and using in business and social intercourse no tongue but\nhis own, and may return to Europe innocent of any knowledge of the\nEnglish speech. Children of such residents speak German in their\nhomes, and play with each other the games they have brought with them\nfrom the Fatherland. But they all speak English also, are familiar\nwith the songs which American children sing, and employ these too in\ntheir sports. There is no transference from one tongue to another,\nunless in a few cases, when the barrier of rhyme does not exist. The\nEnglish-speaking population, which imposes on all new-comers its\nlanguage, imposes also its traditions, even the traditions of children.\n\nA curious inquirer who should set about forming a collection of\nthese rhymes, would naturally look for differences in the tradition\nof different parts of the Union, would desire to contrast the\ncharacteristic amusements of children in the North and in the\nSouth, descendants of Puritan and Quaker. In this he would find\nhis expectations disappointed, and for the reason assigned. This\nlore belongs, in the main, to the day before such distinctions came\ninto existence; it has been maintained with equal pertinacity, and\nwith small variations, from Canada to the Gulf. Even in districts\ndistinguished by severity of moral doctrines, it does not appear that\nany attempt was made to interfere with the liberty of youth. Nowhere\nhave the old sports (often, it is true, in crude rustic forms) been\nmore generally maintained than in localities famous for Puritanism.\nThus, by a natural law of reversion, something of the music, grace,\nand gayety of an earlier period of unconscious and natural living has\nbeen preserved to sweeten the formality, angularity, and tedium of an\notherwise beneficial religious movement.\n\nIt is only within the century that America has become the land of\nmotion and novelty. During the long colonial period, the quiet\ntowns, less in communication with distant settlements than with the\nmother-country itself, removed from the currents of thought circulating\nin Europe, were under those conditions in which tradition is most\nprized and longest maintained. The old English lore in its higher\nbranches, the ballad and the tale, already belonging to the past at\nthe time of the settlement, was only sparingly existent among the\nintelligent class from which America was peopled; but such as they\ndid bring with them was retained. Besides, the greater simplicity and\nfreedom of American life caused, as it would seem, these childish\namusements to be kept up by intelligent and cultivated families after\nthe corresponding class in England had frowned them down as too\npromiscuous and informal. But it is among families with the greatest\nclaims to social respectability that our rhymes have, in general, been\nbest preserved.\n\nDuring the time of which we are writing, independent local usages\nsprang up, so that each town had oftentimes its own formulas and names\nfor children's sports; but these were, after all, only selections from\na common stock, one place retaining one part, another, of the old\ntradition. But in the course of the last two generations (and this is a\nsecondary reason for the uniformity of our games in different parts of\nthe country) the extension of intercourse between the States has tended\nto diffuse them, so that petty rhymes, lately invented, have sometimes\ngained currency from Maine to Georgia.\n\nWe proceed to speak of our games as they exist on the other side of the\nsea. A comparison with English and Scotch collections shows us very few\ngames mentioned as surviving in Great Britain which we cannot parallel\nin independent forms. On the other hand, there are numerous instances\nin which rhymes of this sort, still current in America, do not appear\nto be now known in the mother-country, though they oftentimes have\nequivalents on the continent of Europe. In nearly all such cases it\nis plain that the New World has preserved what the Old World has\nforgotten; and the amusements of children to-day picture to us the\ndances which delighted the court as well as the people of the Old\nEngland before the settlement of the New.[2]\n\nTo develop the interest of our subject, however, we must go beyond\nthe limits of the English tongue. The practice of American children\nenables us to picture to ourselves the sports which pleased the infancy\nof Froissart and Rabelais.[3] A dramatic action of the Virginia hills\npreserves the usage of F\u00e4r\u00f6e and Iceland, of Sweden and Venice.[4] We\ndiscover that it is an unusual thing to find any remarkable childish\nsport on the European continent which failed to domesticate itself\n(though now perhaps forgotten) in England. It is thus vividly and\nirresistibly forced upon our notice, that the traditions of the\nprincipal nations of Europe have differed little more than the dialects\nof one language, the common tongue, so to speak, of religion, chivalry,\nand civilization.\n\nA different explanation has been given to this coincidence. When\nonly the agreement, in a few cases, of English and German rhymes\nwas noticed, it was assumed that the correspondence was owing to\nrace-migration; to the settlement in England of German tribes, who\nbrought with them national traditions. The present volume would\nbe sufficient to show the untenability of such an hypothesis. The\nresemblance of children's songs in different countries, like the\nsimilarity of popular traditions in general, is owing to their\nperpetual diffusion from land to land; a diffusion which has been going\non in all ages, in all directions, and with all degrees of rapidity.\nBut the interest of their resemblance is hardly diminished by this\nconsideration. The character of some of these parallelisms proves that\nfor the diffusion in Europe of certain games of our collection we must\ngo back to the early Middle Age;[5] while the extent of the identity of\nour American (that is, of old English) child's lore with the European\nis a continual surprise.[6]\n\nInternal evidence alone would be sufficient to refer many of the sports\nto a medi\u00e6val origin, for we can still trace in them the expression of\nthe life of that period.\n\nWe comprehend how deeply medi\u00e6val religious conceptions affected the\nlife of the time, when we see that allusions to those beliefs are still\nconcealed in the playing of children. We find that the tests which the\nsoul, escaped from the body, had, as it was supposed, to undergo--the\nscales of St. Michael, the keys of St. Peter, and the perpetual warfare\nof angels and devils over departed souls--were familiarly represented\nand dramatized in the sports of infants.[7] Such allusions have, it is\ntrue, been excluded from English games; but that these once abounded\nwith them can be made abundantly evident. We see that chivalric\nwarfare, the building and siege of castles, the march and the charge of\narmies, equally supplied material for childish mimicry. We learn how,\nin this manner, the social state and habits of half a thousand years\nago unconsciously furnish the amusement of youth, when the faith and\nfashion of the ancient day is no longer intelligible to their elders.\n\nIt will be obvious that many of the game-rhymes in this collection\nwere not composed by children. They were formerly played, as in many\ncountries they are still played, by young persons of marriageable age,\nor even by mature men and women. The truth is, that in past centuries\nall the world, judged by our present standard, seems to have been a\nlittle childish. The maids of honor of Queen Elizabeth's day, if we may\ncredit the poets, were devoted to the game of tag,[8] and conceived it\na waste of time to pass in idleness hours which might be employed in\nthat pleasure, with which Diana and her nymphs were supposed to amuse\nthemselves. Froissart describes the court of France as amusing itself\nwith sports familiar to his own childhood; and the _Spectator_ speaks\nof the fashionable ladies of London as occupied with a game which is\nrepresented in this series.[9]\n\nWe need not, however, go to remote times or lands for illustration\nwhich is supplied by New England country towns of a generation\nsince. In these, dancing, under that name, was little practised; it\nwas confined to one or two balls in the course of the year on such\noccasions as the Fourth of July, lasting into the morning hours. At\nother times, the amusement of young people at their gatherings was\n\"playing games.\" These games generally resulted in forfeits, to be\nredeemed by kissing, in every possible variety of position and method.\nMany of these games were _rounds_; but as they were not called dances,\nand as mankind pays more attention to words than things, the religious\nconscience of the community, which objected to dancing, took no\nalarm. Such were the pleasures of young men and women from sixteen\nto twenty-five years of age. Nor were the participants mere rustics;\nmany of them could boast as good blood, as careful breeding, and as\nmuch intelligence, as any in the land. Neither was the morality or\nsensitiveness of the young women of that day in any respect inferior to\nwhat it is at present.\n\nNow that our country towns are become mere outlying suburbs of\ncities, these remarks may be read with a smile at the rude simplicity\nof old-fashioned American life. But the laugh should be directed,\nnot at our own country, but at the by-gone age.[10] In respectable\nand cultivated French society, at the time of which we speak, the\namusements, not merely of young people, but of their elders as well,\nwere every whit as crude. The suggestion is so contrary to our\npreconceived ideas, that we hasten to shelter ourselves behind the\nrespectable name of Madame Celnart, who, as a recognized authority\non etiquette, must pass for an unimpeachable witness.[11] This\nwriter compiled a very curious \"Complete Manual of Games of Society,\ncontaining all the games proper for young people of both sexes,\" which\nseems to have gained public approbation, since it reached a second\nedition in 1830. In her preface she recommends the games of which we\nhave been speaking as recreations for _business men_:\n\n\"Another consideration in favor of games of society: it must be\nadmitted that for persons leading a sedentary life, and occupied\nall day in writing and reckoning (the case with most men), a game\nwhich demands the same attitude, the same tension of mind, is a poor\nrecreation. * * * On the contrary, the varying movement of games of\nsociety, their diversity, the gracious and gay ideas which these games\ninspire, the decorous caresses which they permit--all this combines\nto give real amusement. These caresses can alarm neither modesty\nnor prudence, since a kiss in honor given and taken before numerous\nwitnesses is often an act of propriety.\"\n\nShe prefers \"rounds\" to other amusements: \"All hands united; all\nfeet in cadence; all mouths repeating the same refrain; the numerous\nturns, the merry airs, the facile and rapid pantomime, the kisses which\nusually accompany them--everything combines, in my opinion, to make\nrounds the exercise of free and lively gayety.\"\n\nWe find among the ring-games given by our author, and recommended to\nmen of affairs, several of which English forms exist in our collection,\nand are familiar to all children.[12]\n\nWe are thus led to remark an important truth. It is altogether a\nmistake to suppose that these games (or, indeed, popular lore of\nany description) originated with peasants, or describe the life of\npeasants. The tradition, on the contrary, invariably came from above,\nfrom the intelligent class. If these usages seem rustic, it is only\nbecause the country retained what the city forgot, in consequence of\nthe change of manners to which it was sooner exposed. Such customs\nwere, at no remote date, the pleasures of courts and palaces. Many\ngames of our collection, on the other hand, have, it is true, always\nbelonged to children; but no division-line can be drawn, since out of\nsports now purely infantine have arisen dances and songs which have for\ncenturies been favorites with young men and women.[13]\n\n\nII.\n\n_THE DANCE, THE BALLAD, AND THE GAME._\n\n Entre Paris et Saint-Denis\n Il s'\u00e9l\u00e8ve une danse;\n Toutes les dames de la ville\n Sont alentour qui dansent.\n\n Toutes les dames de la ville\n Sont alentour qui dansent;\n Il n'y a que la fille du roi\n D'un c\u00f4t\u00e9 qui regarde.\n\n _Canadian Round._\n\nGames accompanied by song may be divided into ballads, songs, and games\nproper.\n\nBy the term ballad is properly signified a dance-song, or dramatic poem\nsung and acted in the dance. The very word, derived through the late\nLatin[14] from the Greek, attests that golden chain of oral tradition\nwhich links our modern time, across centuries of invasion and conflict,\nwith the bright life of classic antiquity.\n\nStill more pleasantly is a like history contained in another name for\nthe same custom. The usual old English name for the round dance, or\nits accompanying song, was _carol_, which we now use in the restricted\nsense of a festival hymn. Chaucer's \"Romaunt of the Rose\" describes\nfor us the movement of the \"karole,\" danced on the \"grene gras\" in the\nspring days. He shows us knights and ladies holding each other by the\nhand, in a flowery garden where the May music of mavis and nightingale\nblends with the \"clere and ful swete karoling\" of the lady who sings\nfor the dancers. This sense of the word continued in classic use till\nthe sixteenth century, and has survived in dialect to the present\nday. Many of the games of our series are such rounds or carols,\n\"love-dances\" in which youths and maidens formerly stood in the ring\nby couples, holding each other's hands, though our children no longer\nobserve that arrangement. Now the word _carol_ is only a modernized\nform of _chorus_. Thus childish habit has preserved to the present day\nthe idea and movement of the village ring-dance, the chorus, such as it\nexisted centuries or millenniums before another and religious form of\nthe dance accompanied by song had received that technical name in the\nGreek drama.\n\nVery little was needed to turn the ballad into a dramatic performance,\nby assigning different parts to different actors. It is natural also\nfor children to act out the stories they hear. We find, accordingly,\nthat ancient ballads have sometimes passed into children's games.\nBut, in the present collection, the majority of the pieces which can\nbe referred to the ballad are of a different character. In these the\nremainder of the history is reduced to a few lines, or to a single\ncouplet. These _historiettes_ have retained the situation, omitting\nthe narration, of the ancient song. We can understand how youthful or\nrustic minds, when the popular song had nearly passed out of mind,\nshould have vaguely maintained the upshot of the story:\n\n Here sits the Queen of England in her chair;\n She has lost the true love that she had last year.\n\nIt is the tragedy told in a line; and what more is needed, since an\nexcuse is already provided for the kiss or the romp?[15]\n\nOf lyric song we have scarce anything to offer. The fifteenth and\nsixteenth centuries gave birth, all over Europe, to popular lyric\npoesy, modelled on literary antecedents, and replacing in general\nestimation the ancient dramatic ballad. Shakespeare, who merely refers\nto the ballad proper, makes frequent use of the popular song of his\nday. In many countries this taste has penetrated to the people; the\npower of lyric composition has become general, so that a collection of\npopular songs will contain many sweet and pleasing pieces. The ballad\nhas thus passed into the _round_. An inconsequent but musical babble,\nlike that of a brook or a child, has replaced the severe accents of\nthe ancient narration. But in English--why, we will not pause to\ninquire--it is not so. Whatever of this kind once existed has passed\naway, leaving but little trace. All that is poetical or pretty is the\nrelic of past centuries; and when the ancient treasure is spent,\nabsolute prose succeeds. The modern soil is incapable of giving birth\nto a single flower.\n\nOur rhymes, therefore, belong almost entirely to the third class--the\ngame proper. But though less interesting poetically, and only recorded\nat a late period, it does not follow that they have not as ancient a\nhistory as the oldest ballads; on the contrary, it will abundantly\nappear that the formulas used in games have an especially persistent\nlife. As the ballad is a dramatic narrative, so the game is a dramatic\naction, or series of actions; and the latter is as primitive as the\nformer, while both were employed to regulate the dance.\n\nMost modern dances, silently performed in couples, are merely lively\nmovements; but in all ancient performances of the sort the idea is as\nessential as the form. Precisely as the meaningless refrains of many\nballads arise from a forgetfulness of intelligible words, dances which\nare only motion grew out of dances which expressed something. The dance\nwas originally the dramatized expression of any feature of nature or\nlife which excited interest. Every department of human labor--the work\nof the farmer, weaver, or tradesman; the church, the court, and the\narmy; the habits and movements of the animals which seem so near to man\nin his simplicity, and in whose life he takes so active an interest;\nthe ways and works of the potent supernatural beings, good or evil,\nor, rather, beneficent or dangerous, by whom he believes himself\nsurrounded; angel and devil, witch and ogre--representations of all\nthese served, each in turn, for the amusement of an idle hour, when the\nlabor which is the bitterness of the enforced workman is a jest to the\nfree youth, and the introduction of spiritual fears which constitute\nthe terror of darkness only adds an agreeable excitement to the sports\nof the play-ground. All this was expressed in song shared by the whole\ncompany, which was once the invariable attendant of the dance, so that\nthe two made up but one idea, and to \"sing a dance\" and \"dance a song\"\nwere identical expressions.\n\nThe children's rounds of to-day, in which each form of words has its\naccompanying arrangement of the ring, its significant motion and\ngesture, thus possess historic interest. For these preserve for us some\npicture of the conduct of the ballads, dances, and games which were\nonce the amusement of the palace as of the hamlet.\n\nThe form of the verses used in the games also deserves note. These\nusually consist either of a rhyming couplet, or of four lines in\nwhich the second and fourth rhyme; they are often accompanied by a\nrefrain, which may be a single added line, or may be made up of two\nlines inserted into the stanza; and in place of exact consonance, any\nassonance, or similarity of sound, will answer for the rhyme. Above\nall, they possess the freedom and quaintness, the tendency to vary in\ndetail while preserving the general idea, which distinguish a living\noral tradition from the monotonous printed page; in these respects,\nour rhymes, humble though they be, are marked as the last echo of the\nancient popular poetry.\n\nThere is especial reason why an Englishman, or the descendants of\nEnglishmen, should take pride in the national popular song.[16]\nEuropean medi\u00e6val tradition was, it is true, in a measure a common\nstock; but, though the themes may often have been thus supplied,\nthe poetic form which was given to that material in each land was\ndetermined by the genius of the language and of the people. Now, among\nall its neighbors, the English popular poesy was the most courtly, the\nmost lyric, the most sweet. So much we can still discern by what time\nhas spared.\n\nThe English ballad was already born when Canute the Dane coasted the\nshore of Britain; its golden age was already over when Dante summed\nup medi\u00e6val thought in the \"Divina Commedia;\" its reproductive period\nwas at an end when Columbus enlarged the horizon of Europe to admit a\nNew World; it was a memory of the past when the American colonies were\nfounded; but even in its last echoes there lingers we know not what\nmysterious charm of freshness, poetic atmosphere, and eternal youth.\nEven in these nursery rhymes some grace of the ancient song survives.\nA girl is a \"red rose,\" a \"pretty fair maid,\" the \"finest flower,\" the\n\"flower of May.\" The verse itself, simple as it is, often corrupted, is\na cry of delight in existence, of satisfaction with nature; its season\nis the season of bloom and of love; its refrain is \"For we are all so\ngay.\" It comes to us, in its innocence and freshness, like the breath\nof a distant and inaccessible garden, tainted now and then by the odors\nof intervening city streets. But the vulgarity is modern, accidental;\nthe pleasure and poetry are of the original essence.\n\nWe cannot but look with regret on the threatened disappearance of\nthese childish traditions, which have given so much happiness to so\nmany generations, and which a single age has nearly forgotten. These\nsongs have fulfilled the conditions of healthy amusement, as nothing\nelse can do. The proper performance of the round, or conduct of the\nsport, was to youthful minds a matter of the most serious concern--a\nlittle drama which could be represented over and over for hours, in\nwhich self-consciousness was absorbed in the ambition of the actors\nto set forth properly their parts. The recital had that feature which\ndistinguishes popular tradition in general, and wherein it is so\npoorly replaced by literature. Here was no repetition by rote; but the\nmind and heart were active, the spirit of the language appropriated,\nand a vein of deep though childish poetry nourished sentiment and\nimagination. It seems a thousand pities that the ancient tree should\nnot continue to blossom; that whatever may have been acrid or tasteless\nin the fruit cannot be corrected by the ingrafting of a later time.\nThere is something so agreeable in the idea of an inheritance of\nthought kept up by childhood itself, created for and adapted to its\nown needs, that it is hard to consent to part with it. The loss cannot\nbe made good by the deliberate invention of older minds. Children's\namusement, directed and controlled by grown people, would be neither\nchildish nor amusing. True child's play is a sacred mystery, at which\ntheir elders can only obtain glances by stealth through the crevice of\nthe curtain. Children will never adopt as their own tradition the games\nwhich may be composed or remodelled, professedly for their amusement,\nbut with the secret purpose of moral direction.\n\nWe do not mean, however, to sigh over natural changes. These amusements\ncame into existence because they were adapted to the conditions of\nearly life; they pass away because those conditions are altered. The\ntaste of other days sustained them; the taste of our day abandons them.\nThis surrender is only one symptom of a mighty change which has come\nover the human mind, and which bids fair to cause the recent time, a\nthousand years hence, to be looked back upon as a dividing-mark in\nthe history of intelligence. If it should turn out that the childhood\nof the human intellect is passing gradually into the \"light of common\nday\"--if the past is to be looked back upon with that affectionate\nthough unreasoning interest with which a grown man remembers his\nimaginative youth--then every fragment which illustrates that past will\npossess an attraction independent of its intrinsic value.\n\n\nIII.\n\n_MAY GAMES._\n\n All lovers' hearts that are in care\n To their ladies they do repair,\n In fresh mornings before the day,\n Before the day;\n And are in mirth aye more and more,\n Through gladness of this lovely May,\n Through gladness of this lovely May.\n\n _Old Song._\n\nChildren's rhymes and songs have been handed down in two principal\nways. First, they have been used for winter amusements, particularly\nat the Christmas season,[17] as has from time immemorial been the case\nin northern countries; and, secondly, they have been sung as rounds\nand dances, especially during summer evenings, upon the village green\nor city sidewalk. The latter custom is fast becoming extinct, though\nthe circling ring of little girls \"on the green grass turning\" may\nnow and then be still observed; but a generation since the practice\nwas common with all classes. The proper time for such sports is the\nearly summer; and many of our rounds declare themselves in words, as\nwell as by sentiment, to be the remainder of the ancient May dances.\nTo render this clear, it will be necessary to give some account of the\nMay festival; but we shall confine ourselves to customs of which we\ncan point out relics in our own land. These we can illustrate, without\nrepeating the descriptions of English writers, from Continental usage,\nwhich was in most respects identical with old English practice.\n\nIt was an ancient habit for the young men of a village, on the eve\nof the holiday, to go into the forests and select the tallest and\nstraightest tree which could be found. This was adorned with ribbons\nand flowers, brought home with great ceremony, and planted in front\nof the church, or at the door of some noted person, where it remained\npermanently to form the centre of sports and dances. The May-pole\nitself, the songs sung about it, and the maiden who was queen of the\nfeast, were alike called _May_. In the absence of any classic mention,\nthe universality of the practice in medi\u00e6val Europe, and the common\nLatin name, may be taken as proof that similar usages made part of the\nfestival held about the calends of May--the _Floralia_ or _Majuma_.\n\nNotwithstanding all that has been said about the license of this\nfestival in the days of the Empire, it is altogether probable that\nthe essential character of the feast of Flora or Maia was not very\ndifferent from its medi\u00e6val or modern survival. The abundance of\nflowers, the excursions to the mountains, the decoration of houses, and\nthe very name of Flora, prove that, whatever abuses may have introduced\nthemselves, and whatever primitive superstitions may have been\nintermingled--superstitions to an early time harmless and pure, and\nonly in the decline of faith the source of offence and corruption--the\npopulation of ancient Italy shared that natural and innocent delight\nin the season of blossom which afterwards affected to more conscious\nexpression Chaucer and Milton.\n\nThis \"bringing home of summer and May\" was symbolic; the tree, dressed\nout in garlands, typifying the fertility of the year. As in all such\nrites, the songs and dances, of a more or less religious character,\nwere supposed to have the power of causing the productiveness which\nthey extolled or represented.[18] These practices, however, were not\nmerely superstitious; mirth and music expressed the delight of the\nhuman heart, in its simplicity, at the reappearance of verdure and\nblossom, and thanksgiving to the generous Bestower, which, so long as\nman shall exist on earth, will be instinctively awakened by the bright\nopening of the annual drama. Superstition has been the support about\nwhich poetry has twined: it is a common mistake of investigators to\nbe content with pointing out the former, and overlooking the coeval\nexistence of the latter. Thus the natural mirth and merriment of\nthe season blended with the supposed efficacy of the rite; and the\nprimitive character of the ring-dance appears to be the circle about\nthe sacred tree in honor of the period of bloom.\n\nA relic, though a trifling one, of the ancient custom, may be seen\nin some of our cities on the early days of the month. In New York,\nat least, groups of children may then be observed carrying through\nthe streets a pole painted with gay stripes, ribbons depending from\nits top, which are held at the end by members of the little company.\nThese proceed, perhaps, to the Central Park, where they conduct their\nfestivities, forming the ring, and playing games which are included\nin our collection. Within a few years, however, these afternoon\nexpeditions have become rare.\n\nThe May-pole, as we have described it, belonged to the village; but\na like usage was kept up by individuals. It was the duty of every\nlover to go into the woods on the eve or early morn of May-day, and\nbring thence boughs and garlands, which he either planted before the\ndoor of his mistress, or affixed thereto, according to local custom.\nThe particular tree, or _bush_ (this expression meaning no more than\nbough), preferred for the purpose was the hawthorn, which is properly\nthe tree of May, as blooming in the month the name of which it has in\nmany countries received. A belief in the protective influence of the\n_white-thorn_, when attached to the house-door, dates back to Roman\ntimes. The May-tree, whatever its species, was often adorned with\nribbons and silk, with fruit or birds, sometimes with written poems.\nThe lover brought his offering at early dawn, and it was the duty of\nhis mistress to be present at her window and receive it; thus we have\nin a song of the fifteenth or sixteenth century from the Netherlands--\n\n Fair maiden, lie you still asleep,\n And let the morning go?\n Arise, arise, accept the May,\n That stands here all a-blow.\n\nAn English carol alludes to the same practice--\n\n A branch of May I bring to you,\n Before your door it stands.[19]\n\nThe custom was so universal as to give rise to proverbial expressions.\nThus, in Italy, \"to plant a May at every door\" meant to be very\nsusceptible; and in France, to \"esmayer\" a girl was to court her.\n\nSome of our readers may be surprised to learn that an offshoot of\nthis usage still exists in the United States; the custom, namely, of\nhanging \"May baskets.\" A half-century since, in Western Massachusetts,\na lad would rise early on May-morning, perhaps at three o'clock,\nand go into the fields. He gathered the trailing arbutus (the only\nflower there available at the season), and with his best skill made a\n\"basket,\" by the aid of \"winter-green\" and similar verdure. This he\ncautiously affixed to the door of any girl whom he wished to honor.\nShe was left to guess the giver. The practice is still common in many\nparts of the country, but in a different form. Both boys and girls\nmake \"May baskets,\" and on May-eve attach them to each other's doors,\nringing at the same time the house-bell. A pursuit follows, and whoever\ncan capture the responsible person is entitled to a kiss. We do not\nventure to assert that the latter usage is entirely a corruption of the\nformer.[20]\n\nThe term \"May-baskets\" is no doubt a modernized form of the old English\nword \"May-buskets,\" employed by Spenser.[21] _Buskets_ are no more\nthan _bushes_--that is, as we have already explained, the flowering\nbranches of hawthorn or other tree, picked early on the May-morn, and\nused to decorate the house. It seems likely that a misunderstanding of\nthe word changed the fashion of the usage; the American lad, instead of\nattaching a bough, hung a basket to his sweetheart's door.\n\nA French writer pleasantly describes the customs of which we are\nspeaking, as they exist in his own province of Champagne: \"The hours\nhave passed; it is midnight; the doors of the young lads open. Each\nissues noiselessly. He holds in his hand branches and bouquets,\ngarlands and crowns of flowers. Above the gate of his mistress his\nhand, trembling with love, places his mysterious homage; then, quietly\nas he came, he retires, saying, 'Perhaps she has seen me.' ... The day\ndawns. Up! boys and girls! up! it is the first of May! up, and sing!\nThe young men, decked out with ribbons and wild-flowers, go from door\nto door to sing the month of May and their love.\"\n\nOf the morning song and dance about the \"bush,\" or branches of trees\nplanted as we have described, we have evidence in the words of American\nrhymes. Thus--\n\n As we go round the _mulberry-bush_,\n _All on a frosty morning_.\n\nIn one or two instances, a similar refrain figures in the childish\nsports of little girls, who have probably got it by imitation; in\nothers, it is the sign of an old May game.[22] An English writer of the\nsixteenth century alludes to the morning dance in a way which proves\nthat these songs really represent the practice of his time.[23]\n\nThe playing of May games was by no means confined to the exact date of\nthe festival. The sign of a country tavern in England was a thorn-bush\nfixed on a pole, and about this \"bush\" took place the dance of wedding\ncompanies who came to the tavern to feast, whence this post was called\nthe _bride's stake_. Whether the thorn-bush was introduced into the\n\"New English\" settlements we cannot say; but the dancing at weddings\nwas common, at least among that portion of those communities which was\nnot bound by the religious restraint that controlled the ruling class.\nThere were, as a French refugee wrote home in 1688, \"all kinds of life\nand manners\" in the colonies. In the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, 7th\nMay, 1651, the General Court resolved, \"Whereas it is observed that\nthere are many abuses and disorders by dauncinge in ordinaryes, whether\nmixt or unmixt, upon marriage of some persons, this court doth order,\nthat henceforward there shall be no dauncinge upon such occasion, or at\nother times, in ordinaryes, upon the paine of five shillings, for every\nperson that shall so daunce in ordinaryes.\" While youth in the cities\nmight be as gay as elsewhere, in many districts the Puritan spirit\nprevailed, and the very name of dancing was looked on with aversion.\nBut the young people met this emergency with great discretion; they\nsimply called their amusements _playing games_, and under this name\nkept up many of the rounds which were the time-honored dances of the\nold country.\n\nThe French writer whom we have already had occasion to quote goes\non to speak of the customs of the younger girls of his province--the\n_bachelettes_, as they are called. \"On the first of May, dressed in\nwhite, they put at their head the sweetest and prettiest of their\nnumber. They robe her for the occasion: a white veil, a crown of white\nflowers adorn her head; she carries a candle in her hand; she is their\nqueen, she is the _Trimouzette_. Then, all together, they go from door\nto door singing the song of the _Trimouzettes_; they ask contributions\nfor adorning the altar of the Virgin, for celebrating, in a joyous\nrepast, the festival of the Queen of Heaven.\"\n\nThis May procession, which has been the custom of girls for centuries,\nfrom Spain to Denmark, existed, perhaps still exists, in New England.\nUntil very recently, children in all parts of the United States\nmaintained the ancient habit of rising at dawn of May-day, and sallying\nforth in search of flowers. The writer well remembers his own youthful\nexcursions, sometimes rewarded, even in chilly Massachusetts, by\nthe early blue star of the hepatica, or the pink drooping bell of\nthe anemone. The maids, too, had rites of their own. In those days,\ntroops of young girls might still be seen, bareheaded and dressed in\nwhite, their May-queen crowned with a garland of colored paper. But\ncommon-sense has prevailed at last over poetic tradition; and as an act\nof homage to east winds, a hostile force more powerful at that period\nthan the breath of Flora, it has been agreed that summer in New England\ndoes not begin until June.\n\nThese May-day performances, however, were originally no children's\ncustom; in this, as in so many other respects, the children have only\nproved more conservative of old habit than their elders. There can be\nno doubt that these are the survivals of the ancient processions of\nCeres, Maia, Flora, or by whatever other name the \"good goddess,\" the\npatroness of the fertile earth, was named, in which she was solemnly\nborne forth to view and bless the fields. The queen of May herself\nrepresents the mistress of Spring; she seems properly only to have\noverlooked the games in which she took no active part.[24]\n\nA writer of the fifteenth century thus describes the European custom of\nhis day: \"A girl adorned with precious garments, seated on a chariot\nfilled with leaves and flowers, was called the queen of May; and the\ngirls who accompanied her as her handmaidens, addressing the youths\nwho passed by, demanded money for their queen. This festivity is still\npreserved in many countries, especially Spain.\" The usage survives in\nthe dolls which in parts of England children carry round in baskets of\nflowers on May-day, requesting contributions.\n\nOf this custom a very poetical example, not noticed by English\ncollectors, has fallen under our own observation. We will suppose\nourselves in Cornwall on May-day; the grassy banks of the sunken lanes\nare gay with the domestic blooms dear to old poetry; the grass is\nstarry with pink and white daisies; the spreading limbs of the beech\nare clad in verdure, and among the budding elms of the hedge-rows\n\"birds of every sort\" \"send forth their notes and make great mirth.\"\nA file of children, rosy-faced boys of five or six years, is seen\napproaching; their leader is discoursing imitative music on a wooden\nfife, to whose imaginary notes the rest keep time with dancing steps.\nThe second and third of the party carry a miniature ship; its cargo,\nits rigging, are blooms of the season, bluebells and wall-flowers;\nthe ship is borne from door to door, where stand the smiling farmers\nand their wives; none is too poor to add a penny to the store. As the\ncompany vanishes at the turn of the lane, we feel that the merriment of\nthe children has more poetically rendered the charm of the season than\neven the song of the birds.\n\nThere is in America no especial song of the festival, though children\nat the May parties of which we have spoken still keep up the \"springing\nand leaping\" which medi\u00e6val writers speak of as practised by them at\nthis occasion. Popular songs are, however, still remembered in Europe,\nwhere their burden is, May has come! or, Welcome to May! Pleasing and\nlyric is the song of the \"Trimazos,\" the lay of the processions of\ngirls to which we have alluded, though its simplicity becomes more\nformal in our version of the provincial French:\n\n It is the merry month of May, Winter has taken flight;\n I could not keep my heart at home that bounded for delight:\n And as I went, and as I came, I sang to the season gay,\n It is the May, the merry May, the merry month of May!\n\n E'en as I came the meadows by, the wheat-fields have I seen,\n The hawthorn branches all a-flower, the oat-fields growing green;\n O Trimazos!\n It is the May, the merry May, the merry month of May!\n\n Madam, I thank you for your coin, and for your courtesy;\n It is for Mary and her Babe, and it is not for me:\n But I will pray the Child for you to whom your gift is given,\n That he return it you again more royally in heaven.\n\nSo, in the Vosges, young girls fasten a bough of laurel to the hat of a\nyoung man whom they may meet on the way, wishing\n\n That God may give him health and joy,\n And the love that he loves best:\n Take the May, the lovely May.\n\nThey ask a gift, but not for themselves:\n\n It shall be for the Virgin Mary,\n So good and so dear:\n Take the May, the lovely May.\n\nCorresponding to the French song from which we have quoted is the\nEnglish May carol, similarly sung from dwelling to dwelling:\n\n Rise up the mistress of this house, with gold along your breast,\n For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay;\n And if your body be asleep, we hope your soul's at rest,\n Drawing near to the merry month of May.\n\n God bless this house and harbor, your riches and your store,\n For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay;\n We hope the Lord will prosper you, both now and evermore,\n Drawing near to the merry month of May.\n\nThe frequent allusions of the earlier English poets to \"doing May\nobservance,\" or the \"rite of May,\" show us how all ranks of society, in\ntheir time, were still animated by the spirit of those primitive faiths\nto which we owe much of our sensibility to natural impressions. Milton\nhimself, though a Puritan, appears to approve the usages of the season,\nand even employs the ancient feminine impersonation of the maternal\ntenderness and bounty of nature, invoking the month:\n\n The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws\n The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.\n Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire\n Mirth and youth, and warm desire;\n Woods and groves are of thy dressing,\n Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.\n Thus we salute thee with our early song,\n And welcome thee, and wish thee long.\n\nTime, and the changes of taste, have at last proved too strong for the\npersistency of custom; the practices by which blooming youth expressed\nits sympathy with the bloom of the year have perished, taking with\nthem much of the poetry of the season, and that inherited sentiment\nwhich was formerly the possession of the ignorant as well as of the\ncultivated class.\n\n\nIV.\n\n_THE INVENTIVENESS OF CHILDREN._\n\n In the days of childhood new,\n When Time had years and ours were few,\n Here on grassy fields at play,\n Ran we this, the other way;\n On this very meadow-ground\n First violets found,\n Where the cattle graze to-day.\n\n _Minnesinger, 13th Century._\n\nThe student of popular traditions is accustomed to recognize the\nmost trifling incidents of a tale, or the phrases of a song, as an\nadaptation of some ancient or foreign counterpart, perhaps removed\nby an interval of centuries. It is the same with rhymes of the sort\nincluded in this collection, in which formulas of sport, current in\nour own day and in the New World, will be continually found to be the\nlegacy of other generations and languages. Should we then infer that\nchildhood, devoid of inventive capacity, has no resource but mechanical\nrepetition?\n\nWe may, on the contrary, affirm that children have an especially lively\nimagination. Observe a little girl who has attended her mother for\nan airing in some city park. The older person, quietly seated beside\nthe footpath, is half absorbed in revery; takes little notice of\npassers-by, or of neighboring sights or sounds, further than to cast\nan occasional glance which may inform her of the child's security. The\nother, left to her own devices, wanders contented within the limited\nscope, incessantly prattling to herself; now climbing an adjoining\nrock, now flitting like a bird from one side of the pathway to the\nother. Listen to her monologue, flowing as incessantly and musically\nas the bubbling of a spring; if you can catch enough to follow her\nthought, you will find a perpetual romance unfolding itself in her\nmind. Imaginary personages accompany her footsteps; the properties\nof a childish theatre exist in her fancy; she sustains a conversation\nin three or four characters. The roughnesses of the ground, the hasty\npassage of a squirrel, the chirping of a sparrow, are occasions\nsufficient to suggest an exchange of impressions between the unreal\nfigures with which her world is peopled. If she ascends, not without a\nstumble, the artificial rockwork, it is with the expressed solicitude\nof a mother who guides an infant by the edge of a precipice; if she\nraises her glance to the waving green overhead, it is with the cry\nof pleasure exchanged by playmates who trip from home on a sunshiny\nday. The older person is confined within the barriers of memory and\nexperience; the younger breathes the free air of creative fancy.\n\nA little older grown, such a child becomes the inventor of legend.\nEvery house, every hill in the neighborhood, is the locality of an\nadventure. Every drive includes spots already famous in supposed\nhistory, and passes by the abodes of fancied acquaintances. Into a land\nwith few traditions the imagination of six years has introduced a whole\ncycle of romance.\n\nIf the family or vicinity contains a group of such minds, fancy takes\noutward form in dramatic performance. The school history is vitalized\ninto reality; wars are waged and battles performed in a more extended\nversion, while pins and beans signify squadrons and regiments. Romances\nare acted, tales of adventure represented with distribution of r\u00f4les.\nThus, in a family of our acquaintance, the children treasured up\nwood-engravings, especially such as were cut from the illustrated\njournals: runaway horses, Indian chiefs, and trappers of the wilderness\nwere at an especial premium. These they stored in boxes, encamped\nin different corners of the room, and performed a whole library of\nsensational tales. A popular piece set forth the destruction of the\nvillain of the story by a shark, while navigating a _catamaran_. The\nseparated beds of the sleeping-room represented the open planks of\nthe raft; the gentlest and most compliant character personified the\nmalefactor; and the shark swam between the bedsteads.\n\nWhere sports require or allow such freedom, the ingenuity of children\nputs to shame the dulness of later years, and many a young lady of\ntwenty would find it impossible to construct the dialogue which eight\nsummers will devise without an effort. It was a favorite amusement\nof two girls just entering their teens to conduct a boarding-school.\nThe scholars and the teachers of the imaginary school were all named,\nand these characters were taken in dialogue by the little actors,\neach sustaining several perfectly well-defined parts. The pupils\npursued their pleasures and their studies according to their several\ntastes; while their progress, their individual accomplishments and\noffences, were subsequently gravely discussed by the instructors, and\nthe condition, prospects, and management of the institution talked\nover. Thus, hour after hour, without hesitation or weariness, the\nconversation proceeded, with the duo of friends for actors and audience!\n\nOftentimes, with young children, an outward support is required for\nfancy, an object to be mentally transformed. One set of little girls\ncollected in the fall birch-leaves, changed to yellow, out of which\nalone they created their little nursery. Another party employed pins,\nwhich they inserted in a board, and called pin-fairies. By the aid\nof these, long dramatizations were performed, costumes devised, and\npalaces decorated, under regulations rigidly observed.\n\nSuch exercises of imagination are usually conducted in strict privacy,\nand unremarked, or not understood, by parents; but when the attention\nof the latter is directed to these performances, they are often\nastonished by the readiness they disclose, and are apt to mistake for\nremarkable talent what is only the ease of the winged fancy of youth,\nwhich flies lightly to heights where later age must laboriously mount\nstep by step.\n\nAs infancy begins to speak by the free though unconscious combination\nof linguistic elements, so childhood retains in language a measure\nof freedom. A little attention to the jargons invented by children\nmight have been serviceable to certain philologists. Their love of\noriginality finds the tongue of their elders too commonplace; besides,\ntheir fondness for mystery requires secret ways of communication. They\ntherefore often create (so to speak) new languages, which are formed by\nchanges in the mother-speech, but sometimes have quite complicated laws\nof structure, and a considerable arbitrary element.\n\nThe most common of these, which are classified by young friends under\nthe general name of _gibberish_, goes in New England by the name of\n\"Hog Latin.\" It consists simply in the addition of the syllable _ery_,\npreceded by the sound of hard _g_, to every word. Even this is puzzling\nto older persons, who do not at first perceive that \"Wiggery youggery\ngoggery wiggery miggery\" means only \"Will you go with me!\" Children\nsometimes use this device so perpetually that parents fear lest they\nmay never recover the command of their native English. When it ceases\nto give pleasure, new dialects are devised. Certain young friends of\nours at first changed the termination thus--\"Withus yoovus govus\nwithus meevus?\" which must be answered, \"Ivus withus govus withus\nyoovus;\" the language, seemingly, not admitting a direct affirmative.\nThe next step was to make a more complicated system by prefixing a\n_u_ (or _oo_) sound with a vowel suffix. Thus, \"Will you go with me\nto lunch?\" would be \"Uwilla uoa ugoa uwitha umea utoa uluncha?\" But\nthis contrivance, adopted by all the children of a neighborhood,[25]\nwas attended with variations incapable of reduction to rule, but\ndependent on practice and instinct. The speech could be learned, like\nany other, only by experience; and a little girl assured us that she\ncould not comprehend a single word until, in the course of a month, she\nhad learned it by ear. She added, in regard to a particular dialect,\nthat it was much harder than French, and that her brother had to think\na great deal when he used it. The application of euphonic rules was\nmore or less arbitrary. Thus, _understand_ would be _uery-uinste_.\nThe following will answer for a specimen of a conversation between a\nchild and a nurse who has learned the tongue: \"Uery uisy uemy uity?\"\n\"Up-stairs, on the screen in your room.\" The child had asked, \"Where is\nmy hat?\"\n\nA group of children living near Boston invented the _cat language_,\nso called because its object was to admit of free intercourse with\ncats, to whom it was mostly talked, and by whom it was presumed to be\ncomprehended. In this tongue the cat was naturally the chief subject\nof nomenclature; all feline positions were observed and named, and the\nlanguage was rich in such epithets, as Arabic contains a vast number\nof expressions for _lion_. Euphonic changes were very arbitrary and\nvarious, differing for the same termination; but the adverbial ending\n_ly_ was always _osh_; _terribly_, _tirriblosh_. A certain percentage\nof words were absolutely independent, or at least of obscure origin.\nThe grammar tended to Chinese or infantine simplicity; _ta_ represented\nany case of any personal pronoun. A proper name might vary in sound\naccording to the euphonic requirement of the different Christian-names\nby which it was preceded. There were two dialects, one, however,\nstigmatized as _provincial_.\n\nThis invention of language must be very common, since other cases have\nfallen under our notice in which children have composed dictionaries of\nsuch.\n\nIt would be strange if children who exhibit so much inventive talent\ndid not contrive new games; and we find accordingly that in many\nfamilies a great part of the amusements of the children are of their\nown devising. The earliest age of which the writer has authentic record\nof such ingenuity is two and a half years.\n\nConsidering the space which our Indian tribes occupy in the imagination\nof young Americans, it is remarkable that the red man has no place\nwhatever in the familiar and authorized sports. On the other hand,\nsavage life has often furnished material for individual and local\namusements.\n\nNear the country place of a family within our knowledge was a patch of\nbrushwood containing about forty acres, and furnishing an admirable\nground for savage warfare. Accordingly, a regular game was devised.\nThe players were divided into Indians and hunters, the former uttering\ntheir war-cry in such dialect as youthful imagination regarded as\naboriginal. The players laid ambushes for each other in the forest, and\nthe game ended with the extermination of one party or the other. This\nwarfare was regulated by strict rules, the presentation of a musket at\na fixed distance being regarded as equivalent to death.\n\nIn a town of Massachusetts, some thirty years since, it was customary\nfor the school-girls, during recess, to divide themselves into separate\ntribes. Shawls spread over tent-poles represented Indian lodges, and\na girl always resorted to her allotted habitation. This was kept up\nfor the whole summer, and carried out with such earnestness that girls\nbelonging to hostile tribes, though otherwise perfectly good friends,\nwould often not speak to each other for weeks, in or out of school.\n\nIn the same town was a community of \"Friends,\" or \"Quakers.\" It was the\ncustom for children of these to play at meeting. Sitting about the room\non a \"First-day\" gathering, one of them would be moved by the spirit,\nrise, and exhort in the sing-song tone common to the meeting-house.\nThere was a regular formula for this amusement--a speech which the\nchildren had somewhere heard and found laughable: \"My de-ar friends,\nI've been a thinking and a thinking and a thinking; I see the blinking\nand the winking; pennyroyal tea is very good for a cold.\"\n\nA young lady of our acquaintance, as a child, invented a game of\npursuit, which she called Spider and Fly. The Flies, sitting on the\nhouse-stairs, buzzed in and out of the door, where they were exposed\nto the surprise of the Spider. The children of the neighborhood still\nmaintain the sport, which is almost the exact equivalent of a world-old\ngame whose formula is given in our collection.\n\nWe need not go on to illustrate our thesis. But it remains true that\nthe great mass of the sports here presented are not merely old, but\nhave existed in many countries, with formulas which have passed from\ngeneration to generation. How are we to reconcile this fact with the\nquick invention we ascribe to children?\n\nThe simple reason why the amusements of children are inherited is the\nsame as the reason why language is inherited. It is the necessity of\ngeneral currency, and the difficulty of obtaining it, which restricts\nthe variation of one and of the other. If a sport is familiar only to\none locality or one set of children, it passes away as soon as the\nyouthful fancy of that region grows weary of it. Besides, the old\ngames, which have prevailed and become familiar by a process of natural\nselection, are usually better adapted to children's taste than any new\ninventions can be; they are recommended by the quaintness of formulas\nwhich come from the remote past, and strike the young imagination as a\nsort of sacred law. From these causes, the same customs have survived\nfor centuries through all changes of society, until the present age has\ninvolved all popular traditions, those of childhood as of maturity, in\na general ruin.\n\n\nV.\n\n_THE CONSERVATISM OF CHILDREN._\n\n Here, as girl's duty is, Timarete lays down her cymbals,\n Places the ball that she loved, carries the net of her hair;\n Maiden, and bride to be, her maids[26] to maid Artemis renders,\n And with her favorites too offers their various wardrobe.\n\n _Greek Anthology._\n\nAs the light-footed and devious fancy of childhood, within its assigned\nlimits, easily outstrips the grave progress of mature years, so the\nobedience of children is far more scrupulous not to overstep the\nlimits of the path. It is a provision of nature, in order to secure\nthe preservation of the race, that each generation should begin with\nthe unquestioning reception of the precepts of that which it follows.\nNo deputy is so literal, no nurse so Rhadamanthine, as one child left\nin charge of another. The same precision appears in the conduct of\nsports. The formulas of play are as Scripture, of which no jot or\ntittle is to be repealed. Even the inconsequent rhymes of the nursery\nmust be recited in the form in which they first became familiar; as\nmany a mother has learned, who has found the versions familiar to her\nown infancy condemned as inaccurate, and who is herself sufficiently\naffected by superstition to feel a little shocked, as if a sacred canon\nhad been irreligiously violated.\n\nThe life of the past never seems so comprehensible, and the historic\ninterval never so insignificant, as when the conduct and demeanor of\nchildren are in question. Of all human relations, the most simple and\npermanent one is that of parent and child. The loyalty which makes a\nclansman account his own interests as trifling in comparison with those\nof his chieftain, or subjects consider their own prosperity as included\nin their sovereign's, belongs to a disappearing society; the affection\nof the sexes is dependent, for the form of its manifestation, on the\nvarying usages of nations; but the behavior of little children, and of\ntheir parents in reference to them, has undergone small change since\nthe beginnings of history. Homer might have taken for his model the\nnursery of our own day, when, in the words of Achilles' rebuke to the\ngrief of Patroclus, he places before us a Greek mother and her baby--\n\n Patroclus, why dost thou weep, like a child too young to speak plainly,\n A girl who runs after her mother, and cries in arms to be taken,\n Catching hold of her garment, and keeping her back from her errand,\n Looking up to her tearful, until she pauses and lifts her?\n\nAnd the passage is almost too familiar to cite--\n\n Hector the radiant spoke, and reached out his arms for the baby;\n But the infant cried out, and hid his face in the bosom\n Of his nurse gayly-girdled, fearing the look of his father,\n Scared by the gleam of the bronze, and the helmet crested with\n horse-hair,\n Dreading to see it wave from the lofty height of the forehead.\n\nIn the same manner, too, as the feelings and tastes of children have\nnot been changed by time, they are little altered by civilization, so\nthat similar usages may be acceptable both to the cultivated nations of\nEurope and to the simpler races on their borders.\n\nIt is natural, therefore, that the common toys of children should be\nworld-old. The tombs of Attica exhibit dolls of classic or ante-classic\ntime, of ivory or terra-cotta, the finer specimens with jointed arms\nor legs. Even in Greece, as it seems, these favorites of the nursery\nwere often modelled in wax; they were called by a pet name, indicating\nthat their owners stood to them in the relation of mamma to baby; they\nhad their own wardrobes and housekeeping apparatus. The Temple of\nOlympian Zeus at Elis contained, says Pausanias, the little bed with\nwhich Hippodamia had played. But the usage goes much further back.\nWhoever has seen the wooden slats which served for the cheaper class of\nthe dolls of ancient Egypt, in which a few marks pass for mouth, nose,\nand eyes, will have no difficulty in imagining that their possessors\nregarded them with maternal affection, since all the world knows that a\nlittle girl will lavish more tenderness on a stuffed figure than on a\nParis doll, the return of affection being proportional to the outlay of\nimagination.\n\nWhen Greek and Roman girls had reached an age supposed to be superior\nto such amusements, they were expected to offer their toys on the\naltar of their patroness, to whatever goddess might belong that\nfunction, Athene or Artemis, Diana or Venus Libitina. If such an act\nof devotion was made at the age of seven years, as alleged, one can\neasily understand that many a child must have wept bitterly over the\nsacrifice. To this usage refers the charming quatrain, a version of\nwhich we have set as the motto of our chapter.\n\nChildren's rattles have from the most ancient times been an important\narticle of nursery furniture. Hollow balls containing a loose pebble,\nwhich served this purpose, belong to the most ancient classic times.\nThese \"rattles,\" however, often had a more artistic form, lyre-shaped\nwith a moving plectrum; or the name was used for little separate\nmetallic figures--\"charms,\" as we now say--strung together so as to\njingle, and worn in a necklace. Such were afterwards preserved with\ngreat care; in the comic drama they replace the \"strawberry mark\" by\nwhich the father recognizes his long-lost child. Thus, in the \"Rudens\"\nof Plautus, Pal\u00e6stra, who has lost in shipwreck her casket, finds a\nfisherman in possession of it, and claims her property. Both agree to\naccept D\u00e6mones, the unknown father of the maiden, as arbiter. D\u00e6mones\ndemands, \"Stand off, girl, and tell me, what is in the wallet?\"\n\"Playthings.\"[27] \"Right, I see them; what do they look like?\" \"First,\na little golden sword with letters on it.\" \"Tell me, what are the\nletters?\" \"My father's name. Then there is a two-edged axe, also of\ngold, and lettered; my mother's name is on the axe.... Then a silver\nsickle, and two clasped hands, and a little pig, and a golden heart,\nwhich my father gave me on my birthday.\" \"It is she; I can no longer\nkeep myself from embracing her. Hail, my daughter!\"\n\nIn the ancient North, too, children played with figures of animals.\nThe six-year-old Arngrim is described in a saga as generously making a\npresent of his little brass horse to his younger brother Steinolf; it\nwas more suitable to the latter's age, he thought.\n\nThe weapons of boys still preserve the memory of those used by\nprimitive man. The bow and arrow, the sling, the air-gun, the yet\nmore primeval club or stone, are skilfully handled by them. Their\nuse of the top and ball has varied but little from the Christian\nera to the present day. It is, therefore, not surprising that many\ngames are nearly the same as when Pollux described them in the second\ncentury.[28] Yet it interests us to discover that not only the sports\nthemselves, but also the words of the formulas by which they are\nconducted, are in certain cases older than the days of Plato and\nXenophon.[29]\n\nWe have already set forth the history contained in certain appellations\nof the song and dance. If the very name of the _chorus_ has survived\nin Europe to the present day, so the character of the classic round\nis perpetuated in the ring games of modern children. Only in a single\ninstance, but that a most curious one, have the words of a Greek\nchildren's round been preserved. This is the \"tortoise-game,\" given by\nPollux, and we will let his words speak for themselves:\n\n\"The _tortoise_ is a girl's game, like the _pot_; one sits, and is\ncalled _tortoise_. The rest go about asking:\n\n \"O torti-tortoise, in the ring what doest thou?\"\n\nShe answers:\n\n \"I twine the wool, and spin the fine Milesian thread.\"\n\nThe first again:\n\n \"Tell us, how was it that thy offspring died?\"\n\nTo which she says:\n\n \"He plunged in ocean from the backs of horses white.\"\n\nOur author does not tell us how the game ended; but from his comparison\nto the \"pot-game\"[30] we conclude that the tortoise immediately dives\ninto the \"ocean\" (the ring) to catch whom she can.\n\nThis quaint description shows us that the game-formulas of ancient\ntimes were to the full as incoherent and obscure as those of our\nday frequently are. The alliterative name of the tortoise,[31] too,\nreminding us of the repetitions of modern nursery tales, speaks volumes\nfor the character of Greek childish song.\n\nKissing games, also, were as familiar in the classic period as in later\ntime; for Pollux quotes the Athenian comic poet Crates as saying of a\ncoquette that she \"plays kissing games in rings of boys, preferring the\nhandsome ones.\"\n\nIt must be confessed, however, that we can offer nothing so graceful\nas the cry with which Greek girls challenged each other to the race,\nan exclamation which we may render, \"Now, fairies!\"[32]--the maidens\nassuming for the nonce the character of the light-footed nymphs of\nforest or stream.\n\nComing down to medi\u00e6val time, we find that the poets constantly refer\nto the life of children, with which they have the deepest sympathy, and\nwhich they invest with a bright poetry, putting later writers to shame\nby comparison. That early period, in its frank enjoyment of life, was\nnot far from the spirit of childhood. Wolfram of Eschenbach represents\na little girl as praising her favorite doll:\n\n None is so fair\n As my daughter there.\n\nThe German proverb still is \"Happy as a doll.\"\n\nIt has been remarked how, in all times, the different sex and destiny\nof boys and girls are unconsciously expressed in the choice and conduct\nof their pleasures. \"Women,\" says a writer of the seventeenth century,\n\"have an especial fondness for children. That is seen in little girls,\nwho, though they know not so much as that they are maids, yet in their\nchildish games carry about dolls made of rags, rock them, cradle them,\nand care for them; while boys build houses, ride on a hobby-horse, busy\nthemselves with making swords and erecting altars.\"\n\nLike causes have occasioned the simultaneous disappearance of like\nusages in countries widely separated. In the last generation children\nstill sang in our own towns the ancient summons to the evening sports--\n\n Boys and girls, come out to play,\n The moon it shines as bright as day;\n\nand similarly in Provence, the girls who conducted their ring-dances in\nthe public squares, at the stroke of ten sang:\n\n Ten hours said,\n Maids to bed.\n\nBut the usage has departed in the quiet cities of Southern France, as\nin the busy marts of America.\n\nIt is much, however, to have the pleasant memory of the ancient rules\nwhich youth established to direct its own amusement, and to know that\nour own land, new as by comparison it is, has its legitimate share in\nthe lore of childhood, in considering which we overleap the barriers\nof time, and are placed in communion with the happy infancy of all\nages. Let us illustrate our point, and end these prefatory remarks,\nwith a version of the description of his own youth given by a poet of\nhalf a thousand years since--no mean singer, though famous in another\nfield of letters--the chronicler Jean Froissart. He regards all the\ncareless pleasures of infancy as part of the unconscious education\nof the heart, and the thoughtless joy of childhood as the basis of\nthe happiness of maturity; a deep and true conception, which we have\nnowhere seen so exquisitely developed, and which he illuminates with a\nray of that genuine genius which remains always modern in its universal\nappropriateness, when, recounting the sports of his own early life,[33]\nmany of which we recognize as still familiar, he writes:\n\n In that early childish day\n I was never tired to play\n Games that children every one\n Love until twelve years are done;\n To dam up a rivulet\n With a tile, or else to let\n A small saucer for a boat\n Down the purling gutter float;\n Over two bricks, at our will,\n To erect a water-mill;\n And in the end wash clean from dirt,\n In the streamlet, cap and shirt.\n We gave heart and eye together\n To see scud a sailing feather;\n After I was put to school,\n Where ignorance is brought to rule,\n _There were girls as young as I_;\n _These I courted, by-and-by_,\n _Little trinkets offering--\n A pear, an apple, or glass ring_;\n For their favor to obtain\n Seemed great prowess to me then,\n _And, sober earnest, so it is_.\n And now and then it pleased us well\n To sift dust through a pierc\u00e8d shell\n On our coats; or in time ripe,\n To cut out a wheaten pipe.\n In those days for dice and chess\n Cared we busy children less\n Than mud pies and buns to make,\n And heedfully in oven bake\n Of four bricks; and when came Lent,\n Out was brought a complement\n Of river-shells, from secret hold,\n Estimated above gold,\n To play away, as I thought meet,\n With the children of our street;\n And as they tossed a counter, I\n Stood and shouted, \"Pitch it high!\"\n When the moon was shining bright\n We would play in summer night\n _Pince-merine_; and time so passed,\n I was more eager at the last\n Than outset, and I thought it shame\n When I was made to stop my game.\n More to tell, we practised too\n The sport entitled _Queue loo loo_,[34]\n _Hook_, _Trottot Merlot_, _Pebbles_, _Ball_;\n And when we had assembled all,\n _Pears_, swiftly running; or were lief\n To play at _Engerrant the Thief_.\n Now and then, for a race-course,\n Of a staff we made a horse,\n And called him _Gray_; or, in knight's guise,\n We put our caps on helmet-wise;\n And many a time, beside a maid,\n A mimic house of shells I made.\n Upon occasions we would choose\n _The one who hit me I accuse_,\n _Take Colin off_; and by-and-by\n Selected _King who does not lie_,\n _Ring_, _Prison-bars_; or were content,\n When in-doors, with _Astonishment_,\n _Oats_, _Scorn_, or _Riddles_; nor forget\n _Replies_, and _Grasses_, _Cligne-musette_,\n _Retreat_, and _Mule_, and _Hunt the Hare_;\n _Leaping_ and _Palm-ball_ had their share,\n _Salt Cowshorn_, and _Charette Michaut_;\n And oftentimes we chose to throw\n Pebbles or pence against a stake;\n Or small pits in the ground would make,\n And play at nuts, which he who lost,\n His pleasure bitterly was crossed.\n To drive a top was my delight\n From early morning until night;\n Or to blow, single or double,\n Through a tube a bright soap-bubble,\n Or a batch of three or four,\n To rejoice our eyes the more.\n Games like these, and more beside,\n Late and early have I plied.\n Followed a season of concern;\n Latin I was made to learn;\n And if I missed, I was a dunce,\n And must be beaten for the nonce.\n So manners changed, as hands severe\n Trained me to knowledge and to fear.\n Yet lessons done, when I was free,\n Quiet I could never be,\n But fought with my own mates, and thus\n Was vanquished or victorious;\n And many a time it was my fate\n To come home in a ragged state\n And meet reproof and chastisement;\n But, after all, 'twas pains misspent;\n For, let a comrade come in sight,\n That moment I had taken flight,\n And none could hinder; in that hour\n Pleasure unto me was power,\n Though oft I found, as I find still,\n The two inadequate to my will.\n Thus I did the time employ--\n So may Heaven give me joy--\n That all things tended to my pleasure,\n Both my labor and my leisure,\n Being alert and being still;\n Hours had I at my own will.\n Then a wreath of violets,\n To give maids for coronets,\n Was to me of more account\n Than the present of a count,\n Twenty marks, would be to-day;\n I had a heart content and gay,\n And a soul more free and light\n Than the verse may well recite.\n So, to fashion form and feature,\n Co-operated Love and Nature:\n Nature made the body strong,\n And forces that to Love belong,\n Soft and generous the heart;\n Truly, if in every part\n Of the body soul did live,\n I should have been sensitive!\n Not a splendor upon earth\n I esteemed so seeing-worth\n As clustered violets, or a bed\n Of peonies or roses red.\n When approached the winter-time,\n And out-of-doors was cold and rime,\n No loss had I what to do,\n But read romances old and new,\n And did prefer, the rest above,\n Those of which the theme was love,\n Imagining, as on I went,\n Everything to my content.\n Thus, since infantine delight\n Oft inclines the heart aright,\n After his own living form\n Love my spirit did inform,\n And pleasure into profit turned;\n For the fortitude I learned,\n And the soul of high emprise,\n Hath such merit in my eyes,\n That its worth and preciousness\n Words of mine cannot express.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Boston.\n\n[2] See Nos. 40 and 58.\n\n[3] See No. 21.\n\n[4] See No. 2.\n\n[5] See No. 1.\n\n[6] More than three fourths of all children's games in the German\ncollections are paralleled (it may be in widely varying forms) in the\npresent volume. Allowing for the incompleteness of collections, the\nresemblance of French games is probably nearly as close. The case is\nnot very different in Italy and Sweden, so far at least as concerns\ngames of any dramatic interest. Not till we come to Russia, do we find\nanything like an independent usage. Taken altogether, our American\ngames are as ancient and characteristic as any, and throw much light on\nthe European system of childish tradition.\n\n[7] See Nos. 150-153.\n\n[8] Barley-break. See No. 101.\n\n[9] No. 90.\n\n[10] It must be remembered that in medi\u00e6val Europe, and in England till\nthe end of the seventeenth century, a kiss was the usual salutation of\na lady to a gentleman whom she wished to honor. The Portuguese ladies\nwho came to England with the Infanta in 1662 were not used to the\ncustom; but, as Pepys says, in ten days they had \"learnt to kiss and\nlook freely up and down.\" Kissing in games was, therefore, a matter of\ncourse, in all ranks.\n\n[11] Mme. \u00c9lisabeth-F\u00e9licie Bayle-Mouillard, who wrote under this\npseudonym, had in her day a great reputation as a writer on etiquette.\nHer \"Manuel Complet de la Bonne Compagnie\" reached six editions in the\ncourse of a few years, and was published in America in two different\ntranslations--at Boston in 1833, and Philadelphia in 1841.\n\n[12] See Nos. 10 and 36.\n\n[13] See No. 154, and note.\n\n[14] _Ballad_, _ballet_, _ball_, from _ballare_, to dance.\n\n[15] See Nos. 12-17.\n\n[16] Yet there is no modern English treatise on the history of the\nballad possessing critical pretensions. It is to the unselfish labors\nof an American--Professor Francis J. Child, of Harvard University--that\nwe are soon to owe a complete and comparative edition of English\nballads.\n\n[17] In the country, in Massachusetts, _Thanksgiving_ evening was the\nparticular occasion for these games.\n\n[18] The feast of _Flora_, says Pliny, in order that everything should\n_flower_.\n\n[19] So in Southern France--\n\n \"Catherine, ma mie--reveille-toi, s'il vous pla\u00eet;\n Regarde \u00e0 ta fen\u00eatre le mai et le bouquet.\"\n\n[20] \"On May-day eve, young men and women still continue to play each\nother tricks by placing branches of trees, shrubs, or flowers under\neach other's windows, or before their doors.\"--Harland, \"Lancashire\nFolk-lore.\"\n\n[21] The \"Shepheards Calender\" recites how, in the month of May,\n\n Youngthes folke now flocken in every where,\n To gather _May-buskets_ and smelling brere;\n And home they hasten the postes to dight,\n And all the kirk-pillours eare day-light,\n With hawthorn buds, and sweete eglantine,\n And girlonds of roses, and soppes in wine.\n\n\"Sops in wine\" are said to be pinks.\n\n[22] See Nos. 23, 26, and 160.\n\n[23] \"In summer season howe doe the moste part of our yong men\nand maydes in earely rising and getting themselves into the\nfieldes at dauncing! What foolishe toyes shall not a man see among\nthem!\"--\"Northbrooke's Treatise,\" 1577.\n\n[24]\n\n As I have seen the lady of the May\n Set in an arbour (on a holy-day)\n Built by the May-pole.\n\n --Wm. Browne.\n\n[25] In Cincinnati.\n\n[26] The same Greek word, _kora_, signifies _maiden_ and _doll_.\n\n[27] _Crepundia_; literally, _rattles_.\n\n[28] See Nos. 105 and 108.\n\n[29] See Nos. 91, 92, and 93.\n\n[30] \"The _pot-game_--the one in the middle sits, and is called a\n_pot_; the rest tweak him, or pinch him, or slap him while running\nround; and whoever is caught by him while so turning takes his place.\"\nWe might suppose the disconnected verse of the \"tortoise-game\" to be\nimitated, perhaps in jest, from the high-sounding phrases of the drama.\n\n[31] \"Cheli-chelone,\" _torti-tortoise_.\n\n[32] \"Phitta Meliades.\"\n\n[33] Froissart's account of the school he attended reminds us of the\nAmerican _district school_, and his narration has the same character of\ncharming simplicity as his allusion to playing _with the boys of our\nstreet_.\n\n[34] For the games here mentioned, compare note in Appendix.\n\n\n\n\nGAMES AND SONGS OF AMERICAN CHILDREN\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\n_LOVE-GAMES._\n\n --Many a faire tourning,\n Upon the grene gras springyng.\n\n _The Romaunt of the Rose._\n\n\nNo. 1.\n\n_Knights of Spain._\n\nThis ancient and interesting, now nearly forgotten, game was in the\nlast generation a universal favorite in the United States, imported,\nno doubt, by the early settlers of the country; and was equally\nfamiliar, in numerous variations, through England and Scotland. It is\nnot, however, the exclusive property of English-speaking peoples, but\ncurrent under a score of forms throughout Europe--from Latin France,\nItaly, and Spain, to Scandinavian Iceland, from the Finns of the Baltic\ncoast to the Slavs of Moravia. Its theme is courtship; but courtship\nconsidered according to ancient ideas, as a mercantile negotiation.\nTo \"buy\" a bride was the old Norse expression for marriage, and in a\nsimilar sense is to be understood the word \"sold\" in our rhyme. The\nfrankly mercenary character of the original transaction ceasing to\nbe considered natural, it was turned into a jest or satire in Sweden\nand Scotland. The present song assumed all the grace and courtesy\ncharacteristic of the medi\u00e6val English ballad, while a primitive form\nsurvived in Iceland; and a later outgrowth (our No. 3) represented the\nwhole affair as one of coquetry instead of bargaining, substituting,\nfor the head of the house or the mother, the bride herself as the\nnegotiator.\n\nOur first version shows the form of the game as played in New York in\nthe early part of the century.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOn a sofa, or row of chairs, a mother, with her daughters on either\nside, seated. Advance three suitors.\n\n \"Here come three lords out of Spain,\n A-courting of your daughter Jane.\"\n\n \"My daughter Jane is yet too young,\n To be ruled by your flattering tongue.\"\n\n \"Be she young, or be she old,\n 'Tis for the price she may be sold.\n\n \"So fare you well, my lady gay,\n We must turn another way.\"\n\n \"Turn back, turn back, you Spanish knight,\n And scour your boots and spurs so bright.\"\n\n \"My boots and spurs they cost you nought,\n For in this land they were not bought.\n\n \"Nor in this land will they be sold,\n Either for silver or for gold.\n\n \"So fare you well, my lady gay,\n We must turn another way.\"\n\n \"Turn back, turn back, you Spanish knight,\n And choose the fairest in your sight.\"\n\n \"I'll not take one nor two nor three,\n But pray, Miss [Lucy], walk with me.\"\n\nThe Spanish knight takes the girl named by the hand, and marches off\nwith her. Walking round the room, he returns, saying,\n\n \"Here comes your daughter safe and sound,\n In her pocket a thousand pound,\n\n \"On her finger a gay gold ring--\n I bring your daughter home again.\"\n\nIn Philadelphia the game had a peculiar ending, which, however, as we\nshall see, preserved, though in a corrupt form, an ancient trait:\n\n \"Here comes your daughter safe and sound,\n In her pocket a thousand pound,\n\n \"On her finger a gay gold ring:\n Will you take your daughter in?\"\n\n \"No!\"\n\nThe girl then runs away, the mother pursuing her. The Spanish knight\ncatches her, and brings her back, saying,\n\n \"Here comes your daughter safe and sound,\n In her pocket _no_ thousand pound,\n\n On her finger _no_ gay gold ring,\n Will you take your daughter in?\"\n\n \"Yes!\"\n\nThe daughter then once more flies, and the Spanish knight has to catch\nher.\n\nThe following is a New England version:\n\n \"We are three brethren from Spain,\n Come to court your daughter Jane.\"\n\n \"My daughter Jane is yet too young\n To be courted by your flattering tongue.\"\n\n \"Be she young, or be she old,\n It is for gold she must be sold.\n\n Then fare ye well, my lady gay,\n I must return another day.\"\n\n \"Come back, come back, you Spanish knight,\n Your boots and spurs shine very bright.\"\n\n \"My boots and spurs they count you nought,\n For in this town they were not bought.\"\n\n \"Come back, come back, you Spanish knight,\n And choose the fairest in your sight.\"\n\n \"This is too black, and that is too brown,\n And this is the fairest in the town.\"\n\nThe only part of the country, so far as we know, in which the game now\nsurvives is the neighborhood of Cincinnati, where it is still played in\na reduced but original form:\n\n \"Here comes a knight, a knight of Spain,\n To court your daughter, lady Jane.\"\n\n \"My lady Jane, she is too young,\n To be controlled by flattering tongue.\"\n\n \"Be she young or be she old,\n Her beauty's fair, she must be sold.\"\n\n \"Go back, go back, you Spanish man,\n And choose the fairest in the land.\"\n\n \"The fairest one that I can see,\n Is [Annie Hobart] to walk with me.\"\n\nThe game now proceeds, \"Here come two knights,\" then with three, four,\netc., till all the players are mated.[35]\n\nIt will be proper to add some account of the comparative history of\nthis curious game. The English and Scotch versions, though generally\nless well preserved, correspond to our American. But we find a more\nprimitive type in Iceland, where it is, or a few years ago was, an\namusement of winter evenings, played not by children, but by men and\nwomen, in a form which indicates a high antiquity. The women ask the\nmen, as these advance, what they desire? The latter reply, \"a maid,\"\nthat is, wife. The inquiry now is, what will they give? It is answered,\n_stone_. This tender is scornfully refused, and the suitors retire in\ndudgeon, but return to raise their offer, and at last proffer _gold_,\nwhich is accepted, and the controversy ends in a dance.[36]\n\nCuriously enough, modern Scotland retains this song in nearly all\nthe rude simplicity of the Icelandic just referred to; though the\nnegotiation, instead of being taken as a matter of course, is turned\ninto a satire, being treated as the endeavor of a rich old bachelor to\npurchase a wife.\n\nIn the stewartry of Kirkendbright, says Chambers, _Janet jo_ is a\ndramatic entertainment among young rustics on winter evenings. A youth,\ndisguised as an old bachelor, enters the room bonnet in hand, bowing,\nand declaring that \"he has come to court Janet jo.\" The goodwife\nthen demands, \"What'll ye gie for Janet jo?\" He responds, a \"peck of\nsiller,\" but is told, \"Gae awa', ye auld carle!\" He retires, but soon\nreturns, and increases his offer, which is less scornfully rejected,\nuntil he proffers \"three pecks of gowd,\" which is accepted with the\nwords--\n\n \"Come ben beside Janet jo,\n Janet jo, Janet jo,\n Ye're welcome to Janet jo,\n Janet, my jo.\"\n\nThe affair then ends in kissing. A comparison of details (such as the\ndiminishing scorn of the bargainer, and chagrin of the suitors at each\nrejection) leaves no doubt that the Icelandic and Scotch forms of the\ngame were once (but many centuries since) identical.\n\nThe German versions are numerous, but corrupt, and less ancient and\ncharacteristic. In one of the most spirited the mother assigns as a\nreason for refusing the suitor, that\n\n Her tresses are not braided,\n Her wedding-gown not done.\n\nSimilarly, we find in an English fragment,\n\n My mead's not made, my cake's not baked,\n And you cannot have my daughter Jane.\n\nThere is a French form, not otherwise especially interesting, which\nresembles our No. 3.[37]\n\nMore striking than the preceding, and abounding in singular\ncorrespondences with the first three numbers of our own collection, is\nthe Italian version, as played in Venice. In this game, one of the\nrows is composed of a boy, who represents the head of the house, and\nfive or six girls who stand at his right and left. The other row is\nformed by the _ambassador_, whose suite consists of boys and girls.\nThese last advance towards the first row, singing, \"The ambassador\nis come,\" then, retreating, sing a chorus, \"Ol\u00e0, ol\u00e0, ol\u00e0.\" The\nconversation then proceeds in a rhythmical way between the two rows as\nfollows:\n\n \"What do you wish?\" \"A maid.\"\n \"Which maid?\" \"The fairest.\"\n \"Who is the fairest?\" \"Nineta bella.\"\n \"What husband will you give her?\" \"A chimney-sweep.\"\n \"That will not do.\" \"The king of France.\"\n \"That will do well.\" \"What dowry will you give her?\"\n \"A ducat.\" \"It will not do.\"\n \"A zechin a day.\" \"That will do well.\"\n \"Come and take her.\" \"Here I come and take her.\"\n\nThe \"ambassador\" advances and takes the girl by the hand; then, as if\nchanging his mind, rejects her, saying as he returns--\n\n \"And now I don't want her!\"\n \"Why do you not want her?\" \"She is too little (or ugly).\"\n \"Is that the trouble?\" \"Yes, that is the trouble.\"\n \"Come, let us make peace.\" \"Peace is made.\"\n\nThe ambassador then takes by the hand the girl, who is presented to\nhim by the head of the house; the two files unite to form a circle,\nand the bride receives the general congratulations of the company, who\nclap their hands, courtesy, and sing,[38] as in the pretty English\nequivalent--\n\n And the bells will ring, and the birds will sing,\n And we'll all clap hands together.\n\nIn Spain, the game is known as the \"Embassy of the Moorish King.\" The\n\"King of the Moors\" is seated on the ground, with crossed legs, his\nattendants about him. The \"ambassador\" makes three steps forward, and\ndemands one of his daughters. The king replies, \"If I have them, I\nhave them not to give away; of the bread which I eat, they shall eat as\nwell.\"\n\nThe ambassador withdraws angry: \"In discontent I go from the king's\npalace.\" But the king, repenting, calls after him--\n\n \"Turn thee, knight, come, turn thee hither,\n The most fair I'll give to thee--\n The most lovely and the sweetest,\n Sweetest rose upon the tree.\"\n\nThe ambassador crosses hands with one of his train to make a seat, on\nwhich the bride is placed in triumph, singing--\n\n \"Thus I take her for her marriage,\n Spouse and wedded wife to be.\"\n\nThe king addresses them on departure--\n\n \"Listen, knight, I do entreat thee,\n Use to her all courtesy.\"\n\nAnd the ambassadors reply--\n\n \"She, on throne of splendor seated,\n Shall be shining to behold,\n She shall lodge within a palace,\n She shall dress in pearls and gold.\"\n\nIt will thus be seen that the three knights originally represent not\nsuitors, but envoys. If we remember that marriage, in some simple\ncountries, is still conducted through intermediaries, whose duty it is\nto argue, chaffer, and dispute, before coming to the decision all along\nintended, we shall see reason to believe that from a form representing\nmore or less literally the usages of primitive society have sprung in\nthe course of time a multitude of confused representations, colored by\nlater tastes and feelings.\n\nThe spirit and substance of the courteous and chivalric English rhyme\ncannot be later than the fourteenth century; the identity and primitive\nrudeness of the song in Iceland, Scotland (and, we shall presently add,\nVirginia), supposes an earlier date; while even then we have to bridge\nthe gap between these forms and the Italian. We may, therefore, be\ntolerably sure that the first diffusion of the game in Europe dates far\nback into the Middle Age.\n\n\nNo. 2.\n\n_Three Kings._\n\nThis antique rhyme, which comes to us from West Virginia, is a rude and\nremarkable variety of the preceding game, but quite unlike any English\nversion hitherto printed.\n\nWe find a singular and apparently connected equivalent in the F\u00e4r\u00f6e\nisles. In the form of the dialogue there in use, as in the present\ngame, the suitor is presented in successively higher characters, as a\nthrall, smith, and so on, until he is finally accepted as a prince. The\nItalian song has shown us a similar usage. Thus the surf-beaten rocks\nof the North Atlantic, with their scanty population of fishermen and\nshepherds, whose tongue is a dialect of the ancient Norse speech, are\nlinked by the golden chain (or network) of tradition with the fertile\nvales of the Alleghenies, and the historic lagoons of Venice.\n\nThe corrupt ending, too, compared with the Philadelphia version already\ncited, and with the Venetian game, is seen to rest on an ancient basis.\nThe children, having forgotten the happy close, and not understanding\nthe haggling of the suitors, took the \"three kings\" for bandits.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOn one side of the room a mother with her daughters. On the other three\nwooers, who advance.\n\n \"Here come three soldiers three by three,\n To court your daughter merrily;\n Can we have a lodging, can we have a lodging,\n Can we have a lodging here to-night?\"\n\n \"Sleep, my daughter, do not wake--\n Here come three soldiers, and they sha'n't take;\n They sha'n't have a lodging, they sha'n't have a lodging,\n They sha'n't have a lodging here to-night.\"\n\n \"Here come three sailors three by three,\n To court your daughter merrily;\n Can we have a lodging,\" etc.\n\n \"Sleep, my daughter, do not wake--\n Here come three sailors and they sha'n't take;\n They sha'n't have a lodging,\" etc.\n\n \"Here come three tinkers three by three,\n To court your daughter merrily;\n Can we have a lodging,\" etc.\n\n \"Sleep, my daughter, do not wake--\n Here come three tinkers and they sha'n't take;\n They sha'n't have a lodging,\" etc.\n\n \"Here come three kings, three by three,\n To court your daughter merrily;\n Can we have a lodging,\" etc.\n\n \"Wake, my daughter, do not sleep--\n Here come three kings, and they _shall_ take;\n They _shall_ have a lodging, they shall have a lodging,\n They shall have a lodging here to-night.\"\n\n(_To the kings_)--\n\n \"Here is my daughter safe and sound,\n And in her pocket five hundred pound,\n And on her finger a plain gold ring,\n And she is fit to walk with the king.\"\n\n(The daughter goes with the kings; but they are villains in disguise:\nthey rob her, push her back to her mother, and sing)--\n\n \"Here is your daughter _not_ safe and sound,\n And in her pocket _not_ five hundred pound,\n And on her finger no plain gold ring,\n And she's not fit to walk with the king.\"\n\n(The mother pursues the kings, and tries to catch and beat them).\n\n _Charlestown, W. Va._\n\n\nNo. 3.\n\n_Here Comes a Duke._\n\nThis rhyme is only a later development of the same game. The suitor is\nnow made to address himself directly to his mistress, and the mercenary\ncharacter of the previous transaction is replaced by coquetry. Our New\nEngland song loses nothing by comparison with the pretty Scotch.\n\nA company of little girls sit in a row. A little girl from the middle\nof the room goes dancing up to the first one in the row, singing,\n\n \"Here comes a duke a-roving,\n Roving, roving,\n Here comes a duke a-roving,\n With the ransy, tansy, tea!\n With the ransy, tansy, tario!\n With the ransy, tansy, tea!\n Pretty fair maid, will you come out,\n Will you come out, will you come out,\n To join us in our dancing?\"\n\nLittle girl answers,\n\n \"No.\"\n\nSuitor steps backward, singing,\n\n \"Naughty girl,[39] she won't come out,\n She won't come out, she won't come out,\n To join us in our dancing.\"\n\nSuitor advances as before. The answer now is,\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\nThese two now retire, singing together,\n\n \"Now we've got the flowers of May,\n The flowers of May, the flowers of May,\n To join us in our dancing.\"\n\nThey join hands and call out the next one in the row; thus the play\ngoes on until the last is selected, when they form a ring, dance, and\nsing,\n\n \"Now we've got the flowers of May,\n The flowers of May, the flowers of May,\n To join us in our dancing.\"\n\n _Concord, Mass._\n\nAvulgarized form of the same game is common through the Middle States:\n\n _Boys._ \"We are three _ducks_ a-roving, (thrice)\n _With a ransom dansom dee._\"\n\n _Girls._ \"What is your good-will, sir?\" etc.\n\n _Boys._ \"My good-will is to marry,\" etc.\n\n _Girls._ \"Which one of us will you have, sir?\" etc.\n\n _Boys._ \"You're all too black and blowzy,\" etc.\n\n _Girls._ \"We are as good as you, sir,\" etc.\n\n _Boys._ \"Then I will take you, miss,\" etc.\n\nThe pretended quarrel between intermediaries has here become a dispute\nof the principals.[40]\n\nFinally, in the streets of New York the dialogue is made\nunrecognizable--\n\n _The Ring._ \"Forty ducks are riding,\n _My dilsey dulsey officer_;\n Forty ducks are riding,\n _My dilsey dulsey day_.\n Which of the lot do you like best?\"\n\n _Child in Centre._ \"You're all too black and ugly--ugly,\" etc.\n\n _The Ring._ \"We're not so black as you are,\" etc.\n\nThe child then selects a partner, when the rest sing,\n\n \"Open the gates and let the bride out,\" etc.;\n\nand the couple pass under lifted hands, circle the ring, and similarly\nreenter, to the words,\n\n \"Open the gates and let the bride in,\" etc.\n\nWe have thus a curious example of the way in which an apparently\nmeaningless game, which might be supposed the invention of the _gamins_\nof the street, is, in fact, a degenerate form of the ancient poetry,\nwhich was brimful of grace, courtesy, and the joy of existence.\n\nFor a purpose presently to be mentioned, we must cite the corresponding\nScotch rhyme, given by Chambers:\n\n A dis, a dis, a green grass,\n A dis, a dis, a dis;\n Come all ye pretty fair maids,\n And dance along with us.\n\n For we are going a-roving,\n A-roving in this land;\n We'll take this pretty fair maid,\n We'll take her by the hand.\n\n Ye shall get a duke, my dear,\n And ye shall get a drake;\n And ye shall get a young prince,\n A young prince for your sake.\n\n And if this young prince chance to die,\n Ye shall get another;\n The bells will ring, and the birds will sing,\n And we'll all clap hands together.\n\n\nNo. 4.\n\n_Tread, Tread the Green Grass._\n\n Tread, tread the green grass,\n Dust, dust, dust;\n Come all ye pretty fair maids\n And walk along with us.\n\n If you be a fair maid,\n As I suppose you be,\n I'll take you by the lily-white hand\n And lead you across the sea.\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\nWith this musical call to the dance, it was common, a generation since,\nfor girls in this town to begin the evening dances on the green,\nsinging as they marched in couples. The \"dust\" of the rhyme is a\ncorruption. Comparing it with the Scotch song previously quoted, we do\nnot doubt that it represents the Scotch (in other words, old English)\n_adist_, the opposite of _ayont_, meaning _this way_, come hither. We\nought probably therefore to read,\n\n Tread, tread the green grass,\n Adist, adist, adist.\n\nThis song was no mere dance of rustics; the children at least kept up\nthe usage of the day when a pleasing popular poetry was the heritage of\nall ranks. The spirit of the strain carries us back to that \"carolling\"\nof ladies which was, in the time of Chaucer, no less than the gay green\nof the meadow or the melody of the birds, an accompaniment of summer.\n\n\nNo. 5.\n\n_I'll Give to You a Paper of Pins._\n\nThis pretty and interesting, hitherto imprinted, children's song is\nmore or less familiar throughout the Middle States. We have heard it\nwith many variations from persons of all classes and ages. It may often\nbe listened to in the upper part of the city of New York, as it is sung\n(with a mere apology for a melody) by three or four girls, walking with\narms entwined, or crooned by mere infants seated on the casks which, in\nthe poorer quarters, often encumber the sidewalk.\n\nThere are also English and Scotch versions, generally inferior as\nregards poetical merit and antiquity of language. The English form,\nhowever, seems to contain the primitive idea, where the wooer appears\nas a prince, who by splendid presents overcomes the objections of a\nlady. This mercenary character being repugnant to modern taste, the\nScotch rhyme represents the suitor as the Evil One in person; while\nin the United States the hero is, in his turn, made to cast off the\navaricious fair, or else the lady to demand only love for love.\n\nThe numerous couplets of the American rhyme are completely in the\nballad style. A \"paper of pins\" is substituted for a \"pennorth of\npins.\" The \"easy-chair\" is modern, but the verse itself ancient,\ncombing golden hair being a world-old occupation of beauties. The gown\n\"trimmed with golden thread,\" or \"set off with a golden crown,\" refers\nto the attire of olden times. The medi\u00e6val bride wore a crown on the\nhead and flowing hair; a costume also mentioned in old ballads as the\nusual dress of a demoiselle of rank arrayed for the dance.\n\n \"I'll give to you a paper of pins,\n And that's the way my love begins;\n If you will marry me, me, me,\n If you will marry me.\"\n\n \"I don't accept your paper of pins,\n If that's the way your love begins;\n For I won't marry you, you, you,\n For I won't marry you.\"\n\n \"I'll give to you an easy-chair,\n To sit in and comb your golden hair.\n\n \"I'll give to you a silver spoon,\n To feed your babe in the afternoon.\n\n \"I'll give to you a dress of green,\n To make you look like any queen.[41]\n\n \"I'll give to you the key of my heart,\n For you to lock and never to part.\n\n \"I'll give to you the key of my chest,\n For you to have money at your request.\"\n\n \"I _do_ accept the key of your chest,\n For me to have money at my request;\n And I will marry you, you, you,\n And I will marry you.\"\n\n \"Ha, ha, ha, money is all,\n And I won't marry you at all;\n For I won't marry you, you, you,\n For I won't marry you.\"\n\nThis is from a New York child; our next version is from Connecticut:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \"Oh, miss, I'll give you a paper of pins,\n If you will tell me how love begins:\n If you will marry, marry, marry,\n If you will marry me.\"\n\n \"I'll not accept your paper of pins,\n And I won't tell you how love begins;\n For I won't marry, marry, marry,\n For I won't marry you.\"\n\n \"O miss, I'll give you a coach and six,\n Every horse as black as pitch.\n\n \"O miss, I'll give you a red silk gown,\n With gold and laces hanging round.\n\n \"O miss, I'll give you a little gold bell,\n To ring for the waiter[42] when you are not well.\n\n \"O miss, I'll give you the key to my heart,\n That we may lock and never part.\n\n \"O miss, I'll give you the key to my chest,\n That you may have money at your request.\"\n\n \"I will accept the key of your chest,\n That I may have money at my request.\"\n\n \"Ah, I see, money is all,\n Woman's love is none at all;\n And I won't marry, marry, marry,\n And I won't marry you.\"\n\nFinally, we have a variation with a more tender conclusion:\n\n \"Will you have a paper of pins?\n For that's the way my love begins--\n And will you marry me, me, me,\n And will you marry me?\"\n\n \"No, I'll not have a paper of pins,\n If that's the way your love begins.\"\n\n \"Will you have a little lap-dog,\n Who may follow you abroad?\n\n \"Will you have a coach and four,\n Footman behind and footman before?\n\n \"Will you have a dress of red,\n All trimmed round with golden thread?\n\n \"Will you have a satin gown,\n All set off with a golden crown?\n\n \"Will you have the key to my chest,\n To draw out gold at your request?\n\n \"Will you have the key to my heart,\n That we may love and never part?\"\n\n \"Yes, I will have the key to your heart,\n That we may love and never part,\n And I will marry you, you, you,\n And I will marry you.\"\n\nThe same idea is contained in a song originally Scotch, but which comes\nto us (through an Irish medium) from Pennsylvania:\n\n \"Will you come to the Highland braes,\n _Bonny lassie, Highland lassie_?\n Will you come to the Highland braes,\n _My bonny Highland lassie_?\"\n\nThe reply is, \"Na, na, it will not dee, bonnie laddie,\" etc.: when the\nwooer gradually increases his offers:\n\n \"I will give you a golden comb,\n If you will be mine and never roam;\"\n\nand finally inquires,\n\n \"Will you go to the kirk with me,\n There to be my wedded wife?\"\n\nwhich is eagerly accepted:\n\n \"_And them's the words away to town_,\n And I will get my wedding-gown.\"\n\n\nNo. 6.\n\n_There She Stands, a Lovely Creature._\n\nThis pretty song has been recited to us by informants of the most\ncultivated class, and, on the other hand, we have seen it played as a\nround by the very \"Arabs of the street,\" in words identically the same.\nIt is an old English song, which has been fitted for a ring-game by the\ncomposition of an additional verse, to allow the selection of a partner.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \"There she stands, a lovely creature,\n Who she is, I do not know;\n I have caught her for her beauty,--\n Let her answer, yes or no.\n\n \"Madam, I have gold and silver,\n Lady, I have houses and lands,\n Lady, I have ships on the ocean,\n All I have is at thy command.\"\n\n \"What care I for your gold and silver,\n What care I for your houses and lands,\n What care I for your ships on the ocean--\n _All I want is a nice young man._\"\n\n _New York._\n\n\nNo. 7.\n\n_Green Grow the Rushes, O!_\n\nIn former times, the amusements of young people at their winter-evening\ngatherings consisted almost entirely of \"playing games.\" On such\noccasions the following rhyme was used (in eastern Massachusetts) about\nthe beginning of the century, to select partners for the ring. Chairs\nwere placed in a circle, and the players of one sex seated, so as to\nleave alternate vacant places, for which they chose occupants, singing--\n\n \"Green grow the rushes, O!\n Green grow the rushes, O!\n He who will my true love be,\n Come and sit by the side of me.\"\n\nThose waiting to be selected sang,\n\n \"Pick and choose, but choose not me,\n Choose the fairest you can see.\"\n\nThis dialogue was repeated for each player until all were taken in,\nwhich, if the party was numerous, of necessity took a long time.\n\n\nNo. 8.\n\n_The Widow with Daughters to Marry._\n\nA child, representing a mother, is followed by a file of daughters,\neach grasping the frock of the girl in front.\n\n There comes a poor widow from Barbary-land,[43]\n With all her children in her hand;\n One can brew, and one can bake,\n And one can make a wedding-cake;\n Pray take one,\n Pray take two,\n Pray take one that pleases you.[44]\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\nThe \"poor widow\" is also represented as having only one daughter left.\n\n Sister, O Phoebe, how happy we be,\n As we go under the juniper-tree!\n We'll put on our night-caps to keep our heads warm,\n And two or three kisses will do us no harm--\n Will do us no harm, Io!\n I am a poor widow, a-marching around,\n And all of my daughters are married but one;\n So rise up my daughter, and kiss whom you please,\n And kiss whom you please, Io!\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\nAnother old version of this round:\n\n I am a rich widow, I live all alone,\n I have but one daughter, and she is my own;\n Go, daughter, go choose, go choose your one,\n Go choose a good one, or else choose you none.\n\n _New York._\n\nFinally, we have the modern corruption of the street, which, however,\nshows us the manner of playing:\n\nA child stands in the ring, as the mother. The daughter reclines as if\nasleep, her head resting on her hands, till the words, _rise up_.\n\n Here _stands_ a poor widow a-walking around,\n Io! Io! Io!\n So put on the night-cap to keep her head warm,\n To keep her head warm, Io!\n So rise up my daughter, and kiss whom you please,\n And kiss whom you please, Io!\n\n _New York._\n\nThe widow with daughters to marry is a European celebrity. The titles\n_rich_ and _poor_, moreover, in this and the last number, are not\nmeaningless, but show that two independent characters have been united\nin one. In the original European game, which we have not encountered in\nan English form, there is both a _rich_ and a _poor_ mother; the latter\nbegs away, one by one, the daughters of the former, until she has\nsecured all. The present round and the preceding are only reductions,\nor adaptations to the dance, of this more ancient and dramatic game.\nOnce more, the game of the rich and poor mothers, though centuries old,\nand existing in many European tongues, is itself but an outgrowth of a\nstill more ancient childish drama, which has given birth to innumerable\nsports, dances, and songs, exhibiting very different external\ncharacteristics all over Europe, but of which primitive and complete\nversions at present seem to exist only in America.[45]\n\n\nNo. 9.\n\n_Philander's March._\n\nThis rhyme has been familiar throughout the New England States. Some of\nour older readers will remember how the doors of all the apartments of\nan old-fashioned mansion, with its great chimney in the centre, would\nbe thrown open at an evening party, and the children march through the\nhouse, and up and down the staircase, singing the familiar air--\n\n Come, Philanders,[46] let's be a-marching,\n Every one choose from his heartstrings;[47]\n Choose your true love now or never,\n And be sure you choose no other.\n O, my dear----, how I do love you!\n Nothing on earth do I prize above you!\n With a kiss now let me greet you,\n And I will never, never leave you.\n\n _Plymouth, Mass._ (about 1800).\n\nAnother version:\n\n Come, Philander, let us be a-marching,\n From the ranks there's no deserting,\n Choose your own, your own true lover,\n See that you don't choose any other;\n Now farewell, dear love, farewell,\n We're all a-marching, so farewell.\n\n _Deerfield, Mass._\n\nWhy, of all the names of the Damon and Sylvia class, _Philander_,[48]\nwhich, according to derivation, should mean fondness for the male\nsex, came to be a proverbial expression for an amorous person, and\ncontributed to the English language a verb (to philander) we cannot\nsay. Children's intelligence made wild work of the word. A New England\nvariation was, \"Come, _Lysanders_;\" and in Pennsylvania, on the\nMaryland border, the first line has been ingeniously distorted into\n\"_Cumberland city-town-boys_\" marching! Cumberland being a town in the\nlatter state.\n\n\nNo. 10.\n\n_Marriage._\n\n(1.) By this name was known in Massachusetts, at the beginning of the\ncentury, an elaborate dance (for such, though practised in a Puritan\ncommunity, it really was) which has a very decided local flavor.\n\nPartners having been chosen, the girl says--\n\n \"Come, my dearest partner, and join both heart and hand;\n You want you a wife, and I want me a man.\n So married we will be, if we can agree,\n We'll march down together, so happy are we.\"\n\nThe partners now separate, the lad saying--\n\n \"Now I must part, and leave you alone,\n So fare you well, my true love, till I return.\"\n\nThe maid replies--\n\n \"I mourn, I mourn, for that is the cry,\n I'm left all alone, and I'm sure I shall die.\"\n\nBut, after walking round, rejoins her partner, who welcomes her--\n\n \"Oh, here comes my love, and how do you do?\n And how have you been since I parted with you?\"\n\nThe pair then address the row--\n\n \"There is a scene secure from all harm,\n Please to give us joy by the raising of the arm.\"\n\nThe other players, who stand each lad opposite his lass, raise arms,\nand the couple walk down under the arch so formed, pausing at the foot--\n\n \"Now we are married, and never more to part,\n Please to give a kiss from the bottom of the heart.\"\n\nAnd the game proceeds with the next couple.\n\n _Scituate, Mass._ (about 1800).\n\n(2.) No better as respects poetry, but with more evidence of old\nEnglish origin, is the following game, in which couples circle in a\nring about two chairs, from time to time changing partners. We have not\nbeen clearly informed of the way of playing, but presume that at the\ntime of the change the youth or girl in the ring must select a mate.\n\n \"On the green carpet here we stand,\n Take your true love in your hand;\n Take the one whom you profess\n To be the one whom you love best.\"\n\nA change of partners.\n\n \"Very well done, said Johnny Brown,\n Is this the way to London town?\n Stand ye here, stand ye there,\n Till your true love doth appear.\"\n\nA mate is finally chosen, and the ring sings--\n\n \"Oh, what a beautiful choice you've made!\n Don't you wish you'd longer stayed?\n [Give her a kiss, and send her away,\n And tell her she can no longer stay.\"[49]]\n\n _Salem, Mass._\n\nThe \"green carpet\" is, of course, the grass, on which the village dance\nproceeds in the summer-time,[50] and the remains of an ancient \"carol\"\nappear in the corrupt rhyme.\n\n(3.) To the game of _Marriage_, as played in France and Italy, the\nfollowing closely corresponds:\n\nA boy and girl having been chosen by singing our No. 17, and standing\nin the centre of the ring, the game proceeds, with imitative motion and\ngesture--\n\n \"Row the boat! Row the boat!\n Let the boat stand!\n I think ---- ---- is a handsome young man;\n I think ---- ---- is as handsome as he,\n And they shall be married, if they can agree.\"[51]\n\nSuch short rhymes are not used independently, but joined to some\nfragment of a ballad, which they serve to turn into a game, as may be\nseen in our No. 12.\n\n(4.) We take this opportunity to give one or two other familiar\nexamples of kissing rounds:\n\n Had I as many eyes as the stars in the skies,\n And were I as old as Adam,\n I'd fall on my knees, and kiss whom I please,\n Your humble servant, madam.\n\nIn Boston, half a century since, this ran--\n\n As many _wives as the stars in the skies_,\n And each _as old as Adam_, etc.\n\nIn Georgia, at the present day--\n\n Many, many stars are in the skies,\n And _each as old as Adam_, etc.\n\n(5.) The following is yet more inane, yet it furnishes a curious\nexample of correspondence--\n\n \"---- ---- languishes.\"\n \"For whom?\"\n \"For ---- ----.\"\n\nThis is not much more crude than the French equivalent.[52]\n\n(6.) We may add that the familiar American game, known as \"Pillow,\"\nor \"Pillows and Keys\" (why _keys_?), in which a player kneels on a\n_pillow_ and solicits a kiss, is no doubt a descendant of the \"Cushion\nDance,\" alluded to by old dramatists.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[35] The game, half a century since, was played by boys as well as\ngirls. New England variations are numerous; thus for the last line of\nverse 4, \"I'll turn my face another way.\" For verse 7, \"Go through the\nkitchen and through the hall, and choose the fairest one of all.\" A New\nYork variety puts the last words into the mouth of the bride: \"I'm so\nhappy that I could sing.\"\n\n[36] So in an English variety:\n\n \"I will give you pots and pans, I will give you brass,\n I will give you anything for a pretty lass.\"\n\n \"No.\"\n\n \"I will give you gold and silver, I will give you pearl,\n I will give you anything for a pretty girl.\"\n\n \"Take one, take one, the fairest you may see.\"\n\n Halliwell, \"Nursery Rhymes.\"\n\n[37] The ending is like ours--\n\n \"Prenez la plus jolie de toutes.\"\n \"Voil\u00e0 la plus jolie de toutes.\"\n\n[38]\n\n Eco la Nina al campo--fra tanti suoni e canti;\n Eco la Nina al campo--ol\u00e0, ol\u00e0, ol\u00e0.\n\n Faciamo un bel' inchino--profondo al suo rispeto;\n Faciamo un bel' inchino--ol\u00e0, ol\u00e0, ol\u00e0.\n\n[39] A New Hampshire fragment has here,\n\n \"The _scornful maid_, she won't come out,\"\n\nwhich seems more genuine.\n\n[40] An English variety, printed a century since in \"Gammer Gurton's\nGarland,\" has as the first line of the refrain,\n\n _My-a-dildin, my-a-daldin_;\n\nand as the alternate line,\n\n _Lily white and shine-a_.\n\nThe last phrase comes to us as the fragment of a game in Massachusetts,\nabout 1800. We are reminded of the songs of Autolycus in \"A Winter's\nTale,\" \"with such delicate burdens of _dildos_ and fadings.\"\n\n[41] Here verses may be improvised at pleasure; for instance, said the\nlittle reciter,\n\n \"I'll give to you a dress of black,\n A green silk apron and a white cap,\n If you will marry,\" etc.\n\n[42] In the English version \"to ring up _your maidens_.\"\n\n[43] Variation: \"Here comes an old woman from Sunderland,\" or\n\"Cumberland.\"\n\n[44] In Canada the game goes:\n\n J'ai tant d'enfants \u00e0 marier!\n J'ai tant d'enfants \u00e0 marier!\n Grand Dieu! je n' sais comment\n Pouvoir en marier tant.\n\n Mademoiselle, on parle \u00e0 vous;\n On dit que vous aimez beaucoup;\n Si c'est vrai que vous aimez,\n Entrez dans la danse, entrez!\n\n[45] See Note; also No. 154, and Note.\n\n[46] Usually plural.\n\n[47] Or, dialectically, \"every one his true lover _sarching_.\"\n\n[48] \"Were his men like him, he'd command a regiment of Damons and\n_Philanders_.\"--\"Two Faces under One Hood,\" by Thomas Dibdin.\n\n[49] From another version.\n\n[50] As Lodge has it--\n\n Footing it featlie on the grassie ground,\n These damsels circling with their brightsome faires--\n\n[51] Fifty years ago the corresponding French game was still played as\na \"game of society\"--\n\n Eh! qui marirons-nous?\n Mademoiselle, ce sera vous:\n Entrez dans la danse;\n J'aimerai qui m'aimera, j'aimerai qui m'aime.\n\nThe round then proceeds--\n\n Eh! qui lui donnerons-nous?\n Mon beau monsieur, ce sera vous.\n Amans, embrassez-vous, etc.\n\n[52]\n\n \"Qui est-ce qui languira?\"\n \"Ce sera ---- ---- qui languira.\"\n \"---- ---- la guerira.\"\n\n _French game in Cambrai_.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\n_HISTORIES._\n\n\n A fresh wreath of crimson roses\n Round my forehead twine will I;\n I will wear them for a garland,\n Wear them till the day I die.\n\n I desire that in my coffin\n May be room enough for three;\n For my father, for my mother,\n And my love to lie with me.\n\n Afterwards above the coffin\n We will let a flower grow;\n In the morning we will plant it,\n In the evening it will blow.\n\n Wayfarers will pause demanding,\n \"Whose may be the flower there?\"\n \"'Tis the flower of Rosetina,\n She who died of love's despair.\"\n\n _Round of Girls in Venice._\n\n\nNo. 11.\n\n_Miss Jennia Jones._\n\nThis childish drama has been familiar in the Middle States since the\nmemory of the oldest inhabitant. The Scotch equivalent shows that the\nheroine's name was originally _Jenny jo_. \"Jo\" is an old English word\nfor sweetheart, probably a corruption of _joy_, French _joie_, used as\na term of endearment. _Jenny my joy_ has thus been modernized into Miss\nJennia (commonly understood to be a contraction for Virginia) Jones!\n\nThe story is originally a love-tale. The young lady, like Rosetina in\nthe Venetian song (a part of which we have translated above) dies of\nblighted affection and the prohibition of cruel parents. The suitor, in\nAmerica, is represented by feminine friends. Yet the drama has lived;\na proof that in singing and playing love-tales the children rather\nimitated their elders than followed a necessity of their own nature.\n\nFrom various versions we select the following:\n\nA mother, seated. Miss Jennia Jones stands behind her chair, or\nreclines on her lap as if lying sick. A dancer advances from the ring.\n\n \"I've come to see Miss Jennia Jones,\n Miss Jennia Jones, Miss Jennia Jones--\n I've come to see Miss Jennia Jones,\n And how is she to-day?\"\n\n \"She's up-stairs washing,\n Washing, washing--\n She's up-stairs washing,\n You cannot see her to-day.\"\n\nThe questions are repeated to the same air for every day of the\nweek, and the reply is that Miss Jennia Jones is ironing, baking, or\nscrubbing. She is then represented as sick, as worse, and finally as\ndead, which announcement is received with signs of deep grief. The\ndancers of the ring then discuss the costume in which she shall be\nburied:\n\n \"What shall we dress her in,\n Dress her in, dress her in;\n What shall we dress her in--\n Shall it be blue?\"\n\n \"Blue is for sailors,\n So that will never do.\"\n\n \"What shall we dress her in,\n Shall it be red?\"\n\n \"Red is for firemen,\n So that will never do.\"\n\n \"Pink is for babies,\n So that will never do.\"\n\n \"Green is forsaken,\n So that will never do.\"\n\n \"Black is for mourners,\n So that will never do.\"\n\n \"White is for dead people,\n So that will just do.\"\n\n \"Where shall we bury her?\n Under the apple-tree.\"\n\nAfter the ceremonies of burial have been completed, the ghost of Miss\nJennia Jones suddenly arises--\n\n \"I dreamt I saw a ghost last night,\n Ghost last night, ghost last night--\n I dreamt I saw a ghost last night,\n Under the apple-tree!\"\n\nThe ring breaks up, and flies with shrieks, and the one caught is to\nrepresent Miss Jennia Jones.\n\nAn interesting feature of our game is the symbolism of color. \"Each of\nthese colors,\" says an informant, \"which denoted a profession, also\ntypified a feeling. Thus, blue, which is said to be for _sailors_,\nsuggested _constancy_.\"\n\nIn one version of the game, which comes to us from an Irish source,\n_green_ is for _grief, red_ for _joy, black_ for _mourning_, and\n_white_ for _death_. In another such version, _white_ is for _angels_,\nand is the chosen color; a reading we would willingly adopt, as\nprobably more ancient, and as expressing the original seriousness of\nthe whole, and the feeling which the color of white symbolized. In more\ncommon Irish phrase, _green_ is for _Irish_, _yellow_ for _Orangemen_.\nIn Cincinnati, _purple_ is for _kings_ and _queens_, _gray_ for\n_Quakers_. In a Connecticut variation, _yellow_ is for _glad folks_.\n\nAn English saying corresponds closely to the significance of colors in\nour game:\n\n Blue is true, yellow is jealous,\n Green is forsaken, red is brazen,\n White is love, and black is death.\n\nA variation from West Virginia makes the question apply to the dress of\nthe mourners, not of the deceased: \"What shall we dress in?\" \"In our\nred, in our blue,\" etc., are rejected, and the decision is, \"In our\nwhite.\"\n\nSuch imitations of burial ceremonies are not merely imaginative. It\nwas once the custom for the girls of a village to take an active\npart in the interment of one of their number. In a Flemish town, a\ngeneration since, when a young girl died, her body was carried to\nthe church, thence to the cemetery, by her former companions. \"The\nreligious ceremony over, and the coffin deposited in the earth, all the\nyoung girls, holding in one hand the mortuary cloth, returned to the\nchurch, chanting the _maiden's dance_ with a spirit and rhythm scarcely\nconceivable by one who has not heard it. The pall which they carried to\nthe church was of sky-blue silk, having in the middle a great cross of\nwhite silk, on which were set three crowns of silver.\"\n\nThe following is a rendering of the \"Maiden's Dance:\"\n\n In heaven is a dance;\n Alleluia!\n There dance all the maids;\n Benedicamus Domino--\n Alleluia!\n\n It is for Amelia;\n Alleluia!\n We dance like the maids;\n Benedicamus Domino--\n Alleluia!\n\nSuch touching customs show the profound original earnestness\nunderlying the modern child's play, as well as the primitive religious\nsignificance of the dance. In England, too, it was the practice for the\nbearers of a virgin to be maids, as a ballad recites:\n\n A garland fresh and faire\n Of lilies there was made,\n In signe of her virginity,\n And on her coffin laid.\n Six maidens, all in white,\n Did beare her to the grave.\n\n\nNo. 12.\n\n_Down She Comes as White as Milk._\n\nThis round is remarkable for being introduced, wherever it occurs, by\na stanza with a different melody, whereby the ballad is turned into\na game. By this introduction the hero and heroine of the action are\nselected.\n\n\"Little Sally Waters,\" or \"Uncle John,\" having been first played, the\nround proceeds about the couple standing in the ring:\n\n He knocks at the door, and picks up a pin,\n And asks if Miss ---- is in.\n\n She neither is in, she neither is out,\n She's in the garret a-walking about.\n\n Down she comes as white as milk,\n A rose in her bosom, as soft as silk.\n\n She takes off her gloves, and shows me a ring;\n To-morrow, to-morrow, the wedding begins.[53]\n\n _Concord, Mass._ (_before 1800_).\n\nThe version now played in New York streets is corrupt, but has a\nspirited melody:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Wa-ter, wa-ter, wild-flowers, grow-ing up so high;\n We are all young la-dies, And we are sure to die,\n Ex-cept-ing Su-sie Al-len, She is the fin-est flow-er.\n Fie, fie, fie for shame; Turn about and tell your beau's name.\n\nThe girl complying, the ballad proceeds--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Mr. _Nobody_ is a nice young man,\n He comes to the door with his hat in his hand.\n\n Down she comes, all dressed in silk,\n A rose in her bosom, as white as milk.\n\n She takes off her gloves, she shows me her ring,\n To-morrow, to-morrow, the wedding begins.\n\nThe song before us furnishes a good example of the persistency of\nchildish tradition. Not only is it still current in New England and\nthe Middle States, with words closely corresponding to those given in\nour version of almost a century since, but these words are also nearly\nidentical with the language of the round as we are told it is sung at\nthe present day in Ireland.\n\nOf a type similar to the foregoing is an ancient and curious, but\nunpublished, nursery song,[54] the first lines of which, at least, will\nbe familiar to some of our readers:\n\n Sing, sparrow, sing!\n What shall I sing?\n All the boys in our town have gone courting;\n All but little Charley,\n And he stays at home,\n And he says he'll have Mary,\n Or else he'll have none.\n\n Row, boat, row!\n Where shall I row?\n Up to little Mary's door.\n Out jumps little Charley in his boots and spurs,\n And goes to the door, and pulls at the string--\n \"Where's little Mary? Is she within?\"\n\n \"Miss Mary's up-stairs, a-making a cap.\"\n Then down comes Miss Mary, as white as the milk,\n All dressed in pink posies and sweet pretty silk,\n And goes to the cupboard, and takes up the can,\n And drinks to little Charley, a pretty little man.\n He takes her in his lap, and pares her nails,[55]\n And gives her a posy of peacock's tails,\n And rings and jewels fit for her hand,\n And tells little Mary he'll come again.\n\nThe mention in this rhyme of the cupboard and the can carries us to\na time not so remote indeed in years, but far removed in customs. At\nthe beginning of the century, in the old colonial towns, tumblers were\nunknown; the silver can stood on the table, and was passed from hand to\nhand at the meal, the elders drinking first. This usage was accompanied\nwith much ceremony. An informant (born in Salem, Mass.), whose memory\ngoes back almost to the beginning of the century, recollects how, when\nit came to be his turn to drink, he was obliged to rise and wipe his\nlips (the use of the same vessel by a whole family made this habit\nproper), and repeat the words, while parents and friends laid down\nknives and forks and looked on, \"Duty to Sir and Ma'am, respects to\naunt, love to brother and sister, and health to myself.\" Sometimes, he\nsaid, sensitive children would rather \"go dry\" than endure this ordeal.\n\n\nNo. 13.\n\n_Little Sally Waters._\n\nA girl in the centre of the ring, seated, and covering her face with\nher hands. At the word \"rise,\" she chooses and salutes any one whom she\npleases.\n\n Little Sally Waters,\n Sitting in the sun,\n Crying and weeping,\n For a young man.\n Rise, Sally, rise,\n Dry your weeping eyes,\n Fly to the East,\n Fly to the West,\n Fly to the one you love best.\n\nIn the north of England the heroine's name is _Sally Walker_:\n\n Sally Walker, Sally Walker,\n Come spring-time and love--\n She's lamenting, she's lamenting,\n All for her young man.\n\nA ballad situation has been united with a dance-rhyme.\n\n\nNo. 14.\n\n_Here Sits the Queen of England._\n\n Here sits the Queen of England in her chair,\n She has lost the true love that she had last year;\n So rise upon your feet, and kiss the first you meet,\n For there's many around your chair.\n\n _Georgia._\n\n\nNo. 15.\n\n_Green Gravel._\n\nA girl sits in the ring, and turns her head gravely as a messenger\nadvances, while the rest sing to a pleasing air--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Green gravel, green gravel, the grass is so green,\n And all the free _masons_ (maidens) are _ashamed_ (arrayed?) to\n \"be seen;\"[56]\n O Mary, O Mary, your true love is dead,\n The king sends you a letter to turn back your head.[57]\n\nThere are only two lines left of the ballad, or rather reminiscence of\none.\n\nA French round begins similarly: \"Ah, the bringer of letters! What\nnews is this? Ah, it is news that you must change your love.[58] Must\nI change my love, I prefer to die; he is not here, nor in France; he\nis in England, where he serves the gracious king.\" To this fragment\nbelong the ancient verses which we have set as the motto of Chapter\nII. of our Introduction. All the other ladies of Paris are at the\ndance; the king's daughter alone \"regarde \u00e0 cot\u00e9,\" \"turns her head,\"\nlooking at a messenger who is approaching; he brings news of her love's\nunfaithfulness; a rival skilled in magic arts has enchanted him, in the\nfar country where he is warring. There is no more left of the ancient\nballad, which, we presume, went on to describe her departure in man's\ncostume, and rescue of her lover. We cannot prove the identity of our\nfragment, but we see how the child's game may have arisen.\n\n\n\nNo. 16.\n\n_Uncle John._\n\nA ring of dancers who circle and sing--\n\n Uncle John is very sick, what shall we send him?\n A piece of pie, a piece of cake, a piece of apple-dumpling.[59]\n What shall we send it in? In a piece of paper.\n Paper is not fine[60] enough; in a golden saucer.\n Who shall we send it by? By the governor's[61] daughter.\n Take her by the lily-white hand, and lead her over the water.\n\nAfter the words \"governor's daughter\" all the dancers fall down, and\nthe last down stands apart, selects her confidential friend, and\nimparts with great mystery the _initials_ of some boy in whom she takes\nan interest. She then returns, and takes her place in the ring with\nface reversed, while the friend announces the initials, and the dancers\nsing, using the letters given--\n\n A. B., so they say,\n Goes a-courting night and day,\n Sword and pistol by his side,\n And ---- ---- to be his bride;\n Takes her by the lily-white hand,\n And leads her o'er the water--\n Here's a kiss, and there's a kiss\n For Mr. ----'s daughter.\n\nIf the person representing \"Uncle John\" be a boy, his full name comes\nfirst in this rhyme, and the initials of the girl are used.\n\nThe choice of the confidante is said to require as much deliberation as\nthe selection of an ambassador of state.\n\n _Hartford, Conn._\n\nThis is one of the most familiar of all children's rounds in our\ncountry. It is, we see, a love-history; and, thrice vulgarized as\nit is, bears traces of ancient origin, and may perhaps be the last\necho of the medi\u00e6val song in which an imprisoned knight is saved from\napproaching death by the daughter of the king, or soldan, who keeps him\nin confinement.[62]\n\n\nNo. 17.\n\n_King Arthur was King William's Son._\n\nA row of hats of various sizes, and belonging to both sexes, are placed\non the floor. The leader picks up the first hat, and puts it on his\nown head, marching and singing the verse. He then takes up the next\nhat, and places it on the head of any one he pleases; the person chosen\nstands behind him, and they once more march, singing. The process is\ncontinued, until all the company are arranged in line:\n\n King Arthur was King William's son,\n And when the battle he had won,\n Upon his breast he wore a star,\n And it was called the sign of war.\n\n _Orange, New Jersey._\n\nThe following rhyme is exceedingly familiar, throughout the Middle and\nSouthern States, as a kissing-round:\n\n King William was King James's son, And all the roy-al race he run; Upon\n his breast he wore a star, And it was called the sign of war.\n King William was King James's son,[63]\n And all the royal race he run;\n Upon his head he wore a star.\n Star of the East,\n Star of the West,\n Star of the one you love the best.\n If she's not here don't take her part,\n But choose another with all your heart.\n Down on the carpet you must kneel,\n As the grass grows on the field,\n Salute your bride, and kiss her sweet,\n And rise again upon your feet.\n\nThe round is also familiar in Ireland. We learn from an informant that\nin her town it was formerly played in a peculiar manner. Over the\nhead of a girl, who stood in the centre of a ring, was held a shawl,\nsustained by four others grasping the corners. The game then proceeded\nas follows:\n\n King William was King George's son--\n _From the Bay of Biscay, O!_\n Upon his breast he wore a star--\n _Find your way to English schools._\n\nThen followed the game-rhyme, repeated with each stanza, \"Go choose you\nEast,\" etc. King William is then supposed to enter--\n\n The first girl that I loved so dear,\n Can it be she's gone from me?\n\n If she's not here when the night comes on,\n Will none of you tell me where she is gone?\n\nHe recognizes the disguised girl--\n\n There's heart beneath the willow-tree,\n There's no one here but my love and me.\n\n\"He had gone to the war, and promised to marry her when he came back.\nShe wrapped a shawl about her head, to see if he would recognize her.\"\nThis was all the reciter could recollect; the lines of the ballad were\nsung by an old woman, the ring answering with the game-rhyme.\n\n _Waterford, Ireland._\n\nThe round now in use in the town whence this comes, but where the\nballad is not at present known, begins:\n\n King William was King George's son--\n _From the Bay of Biscay, O!_\n Upon his breast he wore a star--\n _Point your way across the sea._\n\nIn the year 1287, Folke Algotson, a high-born Swedish youth, carried\noff to Norway (at that time the refuge of such boldness) Ingrid, a\ndaughter of the \"law-man\" or judge of East Gothland, who was betrothed\nto a Danish noble. Popular ballads attached themselves to the\noccurrence, which are still preserved. The substance of that version\nof the story with which we are concerned is as follows: A youth loves\na maid, who returns his affection, but in his absence her friends have\n\"given\" her to another. He rides to the wedding ceremony with a troop\nof followers. The bride, seeing him approach, and wishing to test his\naffection, calls on her maidens to \"take off her gold crown, and coif\nher in linen white.\" But the hero at once recognizes his love, mounts\nwith her on horseback, and flees to Norway.\n\nWe cannot believe the resemblance to be accidental, and look upon our\nrhymes as a branch from the same ancient--but not historical--root.\n\n\nNo. 18.\n\n_Little Harry Hughes and the Duke's Daughter._\n\nThe writer was not a little surprised to hear from a group of colored\nchildren, in the streets of New York city (though in a more incoherent\nform) the following ballad. He traced the song to a little girl living\nin one of the cabins near Central Park, from whom he obtained this\nversion. The hut, rude as the habitation of a recent squatter on the\nplains, was perched on a rock still projecting above the excavations\nwhich had been made on either side, preparatory to the erection of the\nconventional \"brown-stone fronts\" of a New York street. Rocks flung by\ncarelessly managed explosions flew over the roof, and clouds of dust\nwere blown by every wind into the unswept hovel. In this unlikely spot\nlingered the relics of old English folk-song, amid all the stir of the\nbusiest of cities. The mother of the family had herself been born in\nNew York, of Irish parentage, but had learned from her own mother, and\nhanded down to her children, such legends of the past as the ballad\nwe cite. A pretty melody gave popularity to the verse, and so the\nthirteenth-century tradition, extinct perhaps in its native soil, had\ntaken a new lease of existence as a song of negro children in New York.\n\nUnder the thin disguise of the heading will be recognized the ballad\nof \"Hugh of Lincoln and the Jew's Daughter,\" the occasion of which\nis referred by Matthew Paris to the year 1255. Chaucer, in exquisite\nverse, has made his Prioress recount the same story: how the child,\n\n This gemme of chastit\u00e8, this emeraude,\n And eek of martirdom the ruby bright,\n\nhas his throat cut by \"false Jewes,\" and, cast into a pit, still sings\nhis chant in honor of\n\n This welle of mercy, Christes moder sweet;\n\nand, when discovered, cannot be buried in peace till the magic grain is\nremoved which \"that blissful maiden fre\" has laid under his tongue.\n\nThe conclusion is, in our version, only implied. In that given by\nJamieson the murdered child, speaking from the well, bids his mother\nprepare the winding-sheet, for he will meet her in the morn \"at the\nback of merry Lincoln;\" and the funeral service is performed by angels.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n It was on a May, on a midsummer's day,\n When it rained, it did rain small;\n And little Harry Hughes and his playfellows all\n Went out to play the ball.\n\n He knocked it up, and he knocked it down,\n He knocked it o'er and o'er;\n The very first kick little Harry gave the ball,\n He broke the duke's windows all.\n\n She came down, the youngest duke's daughter,\n She was dressed in green;\n \"Come back, come back, my pretty little boy,\n And play the ball again.\"\n\n \"I won't come back, and I daren't come back,\n Without my playfellows all;\n And if my mother she should come in,\n She'd make it the bloody ball.\"[64]\n\n She took an apple out of her pocket,\n And rolled it along the plain;\n Little Harry Hughes picked up the apple,\n And sorely rued the day.\n\n She takes him by the lily-white hand,\n And leads him from hall to hall,\n Until she came to a little dark room,\n That none could hear him call.\n\n She sat herself on a golden chair,\n Him on another close by;\n And there's where she pulled out her little penknife\n That was both sharp and fine.\n\n Little Harry Hughes had to pray for his soul,\n For his days were at an end;\n She stuck her penknife in little Harry's heart,\n And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin.[65]\n\n She rolled him in a quire of tin,\n That was in so many a fold;\n She rolled him from that to a little draw-well\n That was fifty fathoms deep.\n\n \"Lie there, lie there, little Harry,\" she cried,\n \"And God forbid you to swim,\n If you be a disgrace to me,\n Or to any of my friends.\"\n\n The day passed by, and the night came on,\n And every scholar was home,\n And every mother had her own child,\n But poor Harry's mother had none.[66]\n\n She walked up and down the street,\n With a little sally-rod[67] in her hand;\n And God directed her to the little draw-well,\n That was fifty fathoms deep.\n\n \"If you be there, little Harry,\" she said,\n \"And God forbid you to be,\n Speak one word to your own dear mother,\n That is looking all over for thee.\"\n\n \"This I am, dear mother,\" he cried,\n \"And lying in great pain,\n With a little penknife lying close to my heart,\n And the duke's daughter she has me slain.\n\n \"Give my blessing to my schoolfellows all,\n And tell them to be at the church,\n And make my grave both large and deep,\n And my coffin of hazel and green birch.\n\n \"Put my Bible at my head,\n My busker[68] (?) at my feet,\n My little prayer-book at my right side,\n And sound will be my sleep.\"\n\n\nNo. 19.\n\n_Barbara Allen._\n\nIn the first quarter of the century, this celebrated ballad was still\nused in New England as a children's game or dance at evening parties.\nWe have here, perhaps, the latest English survival, in cultivated\nsociety, of a practice which had once been universal. It is noteworthy\nthat while, in the town of which we speak,[69] the establishment, at\nthe period alluded to, of a children's dancing-school was bitterly\nopposed, and the children of \"church members\" were hardly permitted to\nattend, no such prohibition applied to amusements like this, which were\nshared in irrespective of sectarian prejudice, by boys as well as by\ngirls.\n\nOur informant describes the performers as standing in couples,\nconsisting each of a boy and a girl, facing each other. An elderly\nlady, who was in particular request at children's parties on account\nof her extensive stock of lore of the sort, sang the ballad, to which\nthe dancers kept time with a slow metrical movement, balancing without\nany considerable change of place. At the final words, \"Barbara Allen,\"\nwhich end every stanza, a courtesy took the place of the usual refrain.\nThe whole performance is described as exceedingly pretty, stately, and\ndecorous. It cannot be doubted that the version of the ballad sung was\ntraditional, but we have not been able to secure it.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[53] The song exhibits numerous marks of antiquity. \"Picks up a pin\"\nwas originally, no doubt, \"pulls at the pin.\" The word \"garret\" here\nappears to correspond to the Scandinavian \"high-loft,\" the upper part\nand living-room of an ancient house. The third verse is a very ancient\nballad commonplace--\n\n Shee's as soft as any silk,\n And as white as any milk.\n\n \"Ballad of Kinge Adler,\" in the Percy MS.\n\nInstead of \"Water, water, wild-flowers,\" as printed on the next page,\nwe find in Philadelphia, \"_Lily, lily, white-flower_,\" which may have\nbeen the original, and reminds us of the refrains of certain ballads.\nIn Yorkshire, England, \"_Willy, willy, wall-flower_.\"\n\nA specimen of the quintessence of absurdity is the following\nstreet-song:\n\n Swallow, swallow, weeping\n About a willow tree,\n All the boys in Fiftieth Street\n Are dying down below;\n Excepting ---- ----\n His love he can't deny,\n For he loves ---- ----\n And she loves him beside, etc.\n\nNotwithstanding the vulgarity of these stanzas, and of others\nwhich are employed for the same purpose, the practice which they\nillustrate--namely, the adaptation of a ballad to the dance by uniting\nwith it a game-rhyme--is no doubt ancient. We have other examples in\nthe numbers which follow.\n\n[54] \"Lines told to Lydia Jackson (now Mrs. R. W. Emerson, of Concord,\nMass.) by her aunt, Joanna Cotton, in 1806-7-8, in Plymouth.\"\n\n[55] Observe how the nursery song differs from the children's dance.\nThe nurse wishes to persuade the little child in her lap that _paring\nnails_ is a mark of great regard and affection, as, while performing\nthat office, she chants the ballad to amuse her charge.\n\n[56] \"It is on a summer's tide, when ladies' hearts are free and gay,\nwhen they go arrayed in ermine and silk. The hart strikes his horn\nagainst the linden, and the fish leaps in the stream.\"--_Icelandic\nBallad._\n\n[57] Some little friends, feeling the unsatisfactoriness of the\nfragment, added a couplet to the dance--\n\n O Mary, O Mary, your true love's not slain,\n The king sends you a letter _to turn round again_.\n\n[58]\n\n Eh! la _clinquet_ (?) de lettres, que nouvelle est celle-ci?\n Eh! ce sont des nouvelles qu'il faut changer d'ami.\n\n[59] Or, \"Three gold wishes, three good kisses, and a slice of\n_ginger_!\"\n\n[60] Or, \"strong.\"\n\n[61] Or, \"king's daughter,\" \"queen's daughter.\"\n\n[62] See French ballad referred to in the Appendix.\n\n[63] Or, \"King _George's_ son.\" For convenience sake, the last couplet\nof the first version is printed with the melody.\n\n[64]\n\n For if my mother should chance to know,\n She'd make my blood to fall.--_Version of Sir Egerton Brydges._\n\n[65]\n\n And first came out the thick, thick blood,\n And syne came out the thin;\n And syne came out the bonny heart's blood,\n There was nae mair within.\n\n _Jamieson._\n\n[66]\n\n When bells were rung, and mass was sung,\n And a' the bairns came hame,\n When every lady gat hame her son,\n The lady Maisry gat nane.\n\n _Jamieson._\n\n[67] Sallow; willow.\n\n[68] In other versions it is \"Testament\" or \"Catechism.\"\n\n[69] Keene, New Hampshire.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\n_PLAYING AT WORK._\n\n\n \"The king (George III.) danced all night, and finished with the\n _Hemp-dressers_, that lasted two hours.\"--_Memoir of Mrs.\n Delany._\n\n\nNo. 20.\n\n_Virginia Reel._\n\nThis dance, which we will not here attempt to describe, is no doubt\nwell known to our readers; but we doubt if any of them has reflected on\nits significance. It is, in fact, an imitation of _weaving_. The first\nmovements represent the shooting of the shuttle from side to side, and\nthe passage of the woof over and under the threads of the warp; the\nlast movements indicate the tightening of the threads, and bringing\ntogether of the cloth.[70]\n\nThere is a very similar Swedish dance, called \"Weaving Woollen,\" in\nwhich the words sung are--\n\n Weave the woollen and bind it together,\n Let the shuttle go round!\n\nThe originally imitative character of the dance is thus well\nillustrated. The \"Hemp-dressers' Dance,\" in which George III. figured,\nseems to have resembled this, according to the description quoted in\nthe memoir referred to in the heading of this chapter.\n\n\nNo. 21.\n\n_Oats, Pease, Beans, and Barley Grows._\n\nThis round, although very familiar to all American children, seems,\nstrangely enough, to be unknown in Great Britain; yet it is still\na favorite in France, Provence, Spain, Italy, Sicily, Germany, and\nSweden; it was played by Froissart (born 1337), and Rabelais (born\n1483); while the general resemblance of the song in European countries\nproves that in the five centuries through which we thus trace it,\neven the words have undergone little change. Like the first game of\nour collection, it is properly a dance rather of young people than\nof children; and a comparative examination of versions inclines us\nto the belief that it is of Romance descent. The lines of the French\nrefrain,[71] and the general form of the dance, suggest that the song\nmay probably have had (perhaps in remote classic time) a religious and\nsymbolic meaning, and formed part of rustic festivities designed to\npromote the fertility of the fields; an object which undoubtedly formed\nthe original purpose of the May festival. So much for conjecture;\nbut, in any case, it is pleasant to think of the many generations of\nchildren, in so many widely separated lands, who have rejoiced in the\npretty game.\n\nThe ring circles, singing, about a child in the centre--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Oats, pease, beans, and barley grows,\n Oats, pease, beans, and barley grows;\n How you, nor I, nor nobody knows,\n Oats, pease, beans, and barley grows.\n\nThe children now pause, and sing with appropriate gestures--\n\n Thus the farmer sows his seed,\n Stands erect and takes his ease,\n Stamps his foot, and claps his hands,\n And turns about to view his lands.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Waiting for a partner,\n Waiting for a partner,\n Open the ring and take her in,\n And kiss her when you get her in.\n\nThe boy selects a girl, and the two kneel in the ring, and salute--\n\n Now you're married, you must obey,\n You must be true to all you say,\n You must be kind, you must be good,\n _And make your husband chop the wood_.\n\nWhat we have said of the permanency of the words applies only to the\naction, the essential part, of the game. The _amatory chorus_, by which\nthe song is made to serve the purpose of love-making, is very variable.\nThus we have the quaint conclusion of the last line at greater length:\n\n And now you're married in Hymen's band,\n You must obey your wife's command;\n You must obey your constant good,\n And keep your wife in hickory wood--\n Split the wood and carry it in, [_twice_]\n And then she'll let you kiss her again.\n\n\"Splitting the wood\" was a very troublesome part of the New England\nfarmer's m\u00e9nage.\n\nMore commonplace are the choruses:\n\n You must be good, you must be true,\n And do as you see others do.\n\nOr--\n\n And live together all your life,\n And I pronounce you man and wife.\n\nOr again--\n\n And love each other like sister and brother,\n And now kneel down and kiss each other.[72]\n\nIn place of \"sister and brother,\" the malicious wit of little girls\nsubstituted \"cats and dogs.\"[73]\n\nIn the early part of the century the essential stanza went thus in New\nHampshire:\n\n Thus my father sows his seed,\n Stands erect and takes his ease,\n Stamps his foot, and claps his hands,\n Whirls about, and thus he stands.\n\nThe Swedish quatrain is nearly the same:\n\n I had a father, he sowed this way,\n And when he had done, he stood this way;\n He stamped with his foot, he clapped with his hand,\n He turned about, he was so glad.\n\nThe French rhyme, by its exact correspondence, proves the great\nantiquity of the formula.[74]\n\nThe German game, as is often the case with German children's games and\nballads in general, is more modernized than in the other tongues, and\nhas become a coarse jest. It is represented how the farmer sows his\noats, cuts it, binds it, carries it home, stores it, threshes it, takes\nit to market, sells it, spends the money in carousal, comes home drunk,\nand quarrels with his wife, because she has cooked him no supper!\nVerily, a satire from the lips of children!\n\nFauriel, in his history of Proven\u00e7al literature, alludes to this\nsong, which it seems he had seen danced in Provence, and considers to\nbe derived from, and to represent, choral dances of Greek rustics.\n\"The words of the song,\" he says, speaking of these ancient dances,\n\"described an action, a succession of different situations, which the\ndancers reproduced by their gestures. The song was divided into many\nstanzas, and terminated by a refrain alike for all. The dancers acted\nor gesticulated only to imitate the action or situation described in\neach stanza; at the refrain they took each other by the hand and danced\na round, with a movement more or less lively. There are everywhere\npopular dances derived from these, which more or less resemble\nthem.... I remember to have seen in Provence some of these dances,\nof which the theme seems to be very ancient--one, among the rest,\nimitating successively the habitual actions of a poor laborer, working\nin his field, sowing his wheat or oats, mowing, and so on to the end.\nEach of the numerous couplets of the song was sung with a slow and\ndragging motion, as if to imitate the fatigue and the sullen air of\nthe poor laborer; and the refrain was of a very lively movement, the\ndancers then giving way to all their gayety.\"[75]\n\nThe French, Italian, and Spanish versions of this game also represent\na series of actions, sowing, reaping, etc., of which our own rhyme has\nretained only one stanza. There is a whole class of similar rounds,\nwhich describe the labors of the farmer, vine-dresser, etc. That such\na song, danced in sowing-time, and representing the progress and\nabundance of the crop, should be supposed to bring a blessing on the\nlabors of the year, is quite in conformity with what we know of popular\nbelief, ancient and modern. When a French savant asked the peasants of\nLa Ch\u00e2tre why they performed the dance of \"Threading the Needle\" (see\nNo. 29), the answer was, \"To make the hemp grow.\" It is not in the\nleast unlikely that the original of the present chant was sung, with a\nlike object, by Italian rustics in the days of Virgil.\n\n\nNo. 22.\n\n_Who'll Be the Binder?_\n\nCouples circle in a ring about a single player--\n\n It rains, it hails, it's cold stormy weather,\n In comes the farmer drinking all the cider;\n You be the reaping-boy and I'll be the binder;\n I've lost my true love, and don't know where to find her.\n\nEach girl then lets go of her partner's arm, and takes the arm of the\none in advance, and the solitary player endeavors meanwhile to slip\ninto the line.\n\nThe following is a variation:\n\n It snows and it blows, and it's cold frosty weather,\n Here comes the farmer drinking all his cider;\n I'll be the reaper, who'll be the binder?\n I've lost my true love, where shall I find her?\n\nIt is played by children in New York city as a kissing-game in the ring,\nas follows:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n In comes the farmer, drinking all the cider;\n I have a true love and don't know where to find her.\n Go round the ring, and see if you can find her;\n If you cannot find her, go and choose another one.\n\nWe meet our game once more in North Germany. But its prettiest form is\namong the Fins of the Baltic coast, where it is extremely pleasing and\npastoral:\n\n Reap we the oat harvest,\n Who will come and bind it?\n Ah, perhaps his darling,\n Treasure of his bosom.\n Where have I last seen her?\n Yesterday at evening,\n Yesterday at morning!\n When will she come hither,\n With her little household,\n With her gentle escort,\n People of her village?\n Who has not a partner,\n Let him pay a forfeit!\n\nIt is a remarkable fact that, even where this simple people have\nborrowed the dramatic idea of an amusement from their more civilized\nneighbors, they have developed it with a sweetness and grace which put\nthe latter to shame.\n\n\nNo. 23.\n\n_As We Go Round the Mulberry Bush._\n\n[Illustration]\n\n As we go round the mulberry bush,\n The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush;\n As we go round the mulberry bush,\n So early in the morning.\n\n This is the way we wash our clothes,\n All of a Monday morning.\n\n This is the way we iron our clothes,\n All of a Tuesday morning.\n\n This is the way we scrub our floor,\n All of a Wednesday morning.\n\n This is the way we mend our clothes,\n All of a Thursday morning.\n\n This is the way we sweep the house,\n All of a Friday morning.\n\n This is the way we bake our bread,\n All of a Saturday morning.\n\n This is the way we go to church,\n All of a Sunday morning.\n\nIn Massachusetts the song goes--\n\n Here we go round the _barberry bush_,\n So early in the morning.\n\nA variation makes the last line--\n\n All on a frosty morning.\n\n\nNo. 24.\n\n_Do, Do, Pity my Case._\n\n Do, do, pity my case,\n In some lady's garden;\n My clothes to wash when I get home,\n In some lady's garden.\n\n Do, do, pity my case,\n In some lady's garden;\n My clothes to iron when I get home,\n In some lady's garden.\n\nAnd so on, the performers lamenting the duty which lies upon them of\nscrubbing their floors, baking their bread, etc.\n\n _Louisiana._\n\nThis pretty dance, with its idiomatic English, which comes to us from\nthe extreme South, is obviously not modern. The chorus refers, not to\nthe place of the labor, but to the locality of the dance: it may have\nbeen originally _in my lady's garden_. Our informant remembers the\ngame as danced by negro children, their scanty garments flying as the\nring spun about the trunk of some large tree; but (though the naive\nappeal to pity may seem characteristic of Southern indolence) this is\nevidently no negro song.\n\n\nNo. 25.\n\n_When I Was a Shoemaker._\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA ROUND.\n\n When I was a shoemaker,\n And a shoemaker was I,\n This way,[76] and this way,\n And this way went I.\n\n When I was a gentleman,\n And a gentleman was I,\n This way, and this way,\n And this way went I.\n\n When I was a lady,\n And a lady was I,\n This way, and this way,\n And this way went I.\n\nSo on, indefinitely. The gentleman places his hands in his waistcoat\npockets, and promenades up and down; the lady gathers her skirts\nhaughtily together; the fireman makes a sound in imitation of the\nhorns which firemen formerly blew; the shoemaker and hair-dresser are\nrepresented by appropriate motions, etc.\n\n _New York streets._\n\nAs with most street-games, further inquiry has shown us that the song\nis old in America. Not merely the substance (which is identical with\nour last two numbers), but also the expression, is paralleled in France\nand Italy, and even on the extreme limits of European Russia.\n\nThe well-known French name of this game \"The Bridge of Avignon,\"[77]\nindicates a high antiquity. This bridge, which figures in French\nnursery-lore as London Bridge does in our own, was built in 1177.\nBridges, in the Middle Age, were the most important structures in the\nland, places of festivity and solemnity, dances, trials, and executions.\n\n\nNo. 26.\n\n_Here We Come Gathering Nuts of May._\n\nTwo opposite rows of girls. One side advances and sings, the other side\nreplying:\n\n \"Here we come gathering nuts of May, [_thrice_]\n On a May morning early.\"\n\n \"Whom will you gather for nuts of May,\n On a May morning early?\"\n\n \"We'll gather [naming a girl] for nuts of May,\n On a May morning early.\"\n\n \"Whom will you send to fetch her away,\n On a May morning early?\"\n\n \"We'll send [naming a strong girl] to pull her away,\n On a May morning early.\"\n\nThe game is continued until all players are brought to one side.\n\n _Charlestown, W. Va._\n\nThis game is probably a recent importation from England, where it\nis very well known. It seems likely that the imitative dance really\nbelongs to the season of nut-gathering,[78] and that the phrase, \"Nuts\nof _May_,\" and the refrain, have crept in from its later use as a\nMay-game.\n\n\nNo. 27.\n\n_Here I Brew, and Here I Bake._\n\nA ring of children clasp hands by clenching fingers; a single child\nwithin the circle repeats the rhyme, making appropriate gestures over\nsuccessive pairs of hands; at the last words he (or she) throws himself\n(or herself) against what is thought the most penetrable point.\n\n Here I brew and here I bake,\n And here I make my wedding-cake,\n And here I must break through.\n\nThe following is a different version:\n\n Here I bake and here I brew,\n And here I lay my wedding-shoe,\n And here I must and shall break through.\n\nIf the first attempt is not successful, the player within the ring runs\nto attack some other point. After the ring is broken, the child on his\nright continues the game. In New York, a violent form of the same sport\ngoes by the name of \"Bull in the Ring.\"\n\n\nNo. 28.\n\n_Draw a Bucket of Water._\n\nFour girls cross hands, and pull in rhythmical movement against each\nother while singing, one pair changing the position of their hands from\nabove to below that of the other pair at the words, \"Here we go under,\"\netc.\n\n Draw a bucket of water\n For my lady's daughter.\n One in a rush,\n Two in a rush,\n Here we go under the mulberry bush.\n\n _New York._\n\nIn Massachusetts this was a ring game:\n\n Draw a pail of water\n For my lady's daughter.\n Give her a ring and a silver pin,\n And pay for my lady's pop under.\n\nAt the last words the girl within the ring endeavors to pass under the\nhands of one of the couples.\n\n\nNo. 29.\n\n_Threading the Needle._\n\nA boy and a girl, standing each on a stool, make an arch of their\nhands, under which an endless chain passes, until the hands are\ndropped, and one of the players is enclosed.\n\n The needle's eve\n That doth supply\n The thread that runs so true;\n Ah! many a lass\n Have I let pass\n Because I wanted you.\n\nOr--\n\n The needle's eye\n You can't pass by,\n The thread it runs so true;\n It has caught many a seemly lass,\n And now it has caught you.\n\n _Massachusetts._\n\nIn the following more complicated form of the game, in use half a\ncentury ago, both a boy and a girl were caught by the players who\nraised their arms:\n\n The needle's eye\n None can surpass\n But those who travel through;\n It hath caught many a smiling lass,\n But now it hath caught you.\n\n There's none so sweet\n That is dressed so neat;[79]\n I do intend,\n Before I end,\n To make this couple meet.\n\nThe pair then kissed, and the game proceeded as in \"London Bridge,\"\nending with a tug-of-war.\n\nThe name, \"Threading the Needle,\" is still applied, in a district of\ncentral France, to a dance in which many hundred persons take part, in\nwhich from time to time the pair who form the head of the row raise\ntheir arms to allow the line to pass through, coiling and winding like\na great serpent.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[70] An acquaintance says, that in the interior of New York State the\nmen and girls stand in the row by sevens; an arrangement which she\nsuggests may imitate the different colors of strands.\n\n[71]\n\n Oats, oats, oats,\n May the good God prosper you!\n\n[72] These choruses, which may be paralleled from Great Britain, do not\nin themselves belong to any particular game.\n\n[73] We find the same benevolent wish, under like circumstances, in a\nSwedish game. Is the correspondence accident or tradition?\n\n[74]\n\n Qui veut ouir, qui veut savoir,\n Comment on s\u00e8me l'aveine?\n Mon p\u00e8re la s\u00e8mait ainsi,\n Puis il se reposait \u00e0 demi;\n Frappe du pied, puis de la main,\n Un petit tour pour ton voisin;\n Aveine, aveine, aveine,\n Que le Bon Dieu t'am\u00e8ne!\n\n[75] Fauriel supposed the present round to be derived from Massiliot\nGreeks; but he was unacquainted with its diffusion in Europe.\n\n[76] Sung \"_a this a way_.\"\n\n[77]\n\n Sur le Pont d'Avignon,\n Les messieurs font \u00e7a,\n Et puis encore \u00e7a.\n\nThen come \"les dames,\" \"les cordonniers,\" etc.\n\nIn the corresponding Russian game, a single player mimics the walk of\nold men, priests, or the habits of any trade or person in the company.\n\n[78]\n\n Nous sommes \u00e0 trois fillettes,\n Pour aller cueillir noisettes;\n Quand les noisettes sont cueillies,\n Nous sommes mises \u00e0 danser.\n\n[79] \"We considered this a personal compliment. I remember we used to\nfeel very much pleased--children are so sensitive!\"--_Informant._\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\n_HUMOR AND SATIRE._\n\n\n_Andante._\n\n Perrette est bien malade,\n En danger de mourir.\n\n_Presto._\n\n Son ami la va voire;\n Te laira' tu mourir?\n\n_Andante._\n\n Non, non, r\u00e9pondit-elle,\n Je ne veux pas mourir.\n\n _Canadian Song._\n\n\nNo. 30.\n\n_Soldier, Soldier, Will You Marry Me?_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n _First voice._-- \"Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,\n With a knapsack, fife, and drum?\"\n \"Oh no, my pretty maiden, I cannot marry you,\n For I have no coat to put on.\"\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n _Second voice._-- Then away she ran to the tailor's shop,\n As fast as legs could run;\n And bought him one of the very best,\n And the soldier put it on.\n\n\nThe question is then repeated, the soldier pleading his want of shoes\ngloves, etc., which the confiding fair procures, until at last--\n\n \"Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,\n With your knapsack, fife, and drum?\"\n \"Oh no, my pretty maiden, I cannot marry you,\n For I have--a good wife--at home!\"\n\nThis piece and the following are more or less familiar as children's\nsongs through the United States. Our version was sung by children of\nfrom five to eight years of age, and made a favorite amusement at the\nafternoon gatherings. When one couple had finished, another pair would\nbegin, and so on for hours at a time. The object was to provide for the\nsoldier the most varied wardrobe possible; while the maiden put the\nquestion with spirit, laying her hand on her heart, respecting which\nthe prevailing opinion was that it was under the left arm.\n\n\nNo. 31.\n\n_Quaker Courtship._\n\nIn this piece, two children (in costume or otherwise) impersonate a\nQuaker paying his addresses to a young lady of the world.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \"Madam, I am come a-courting--\n _Hum, hum, heigho hum!_\n 'Tis for pleasure, not for sporting--\n _Hum, hum, heigho hum!_\"\n\n \"Sir, it suits me to retire,\n _Teedle link tum, teedle tum a tee_;\n You may sit and court the fire,\n _Teedle link tum, teedle tum a tee_.\"\n\n \"Madam, here's a ring worth forty shilling,\n Thou may'st have it if thou art willing.\"\n\n \"What care I for rings or money?\n I'll have a man who will call me honey.\"\n\n \"Madam, thou art tall and slender;\n Madam, I know thy heart is tender.\"\n\n \"Sir, I see you are a flatterer,\n And I never loved a Quaker.\"\n\n \"Must I give up my religion?\n Must I be a Presbyterian?\"\n\n \"Cheer up, cheer up, loving brother,\n If you can't catch one fish, catch another.\"\n\n _Hartford, Conn._\n\n\nNo. 32.\n\n_Lazy Mary._\n\nA mother and daughter in the centre of a ring, the daughter kneeling\nwith closed eyes. Mother advances--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \"Lazy Mary, will you get up,\n Will you get up, will you get up,\n Will you get up to-day?\"\n\n \"What will you give me for my breakfast,\n If I get up, if I get up,\n If I get up to-day?\"\n\nThe reply is, \"A slice of bread and a cup of tea,\" whereon Mary\nanswers, \"No, mother, I won't get up,\" and responds similarly to the\ncall to dinner; but for supper the mother offers \"a nice young man with\nrosy cheeks,\" which is accepted with the words, \"Yes, mother, I will\nget up,\" whereon the ring clap their hands. The round is familiar in\nNew York streets. There is a corresponding English song, with a tragic\nending.\n\n\nNo. 33.\n\n_Whistle, Daughter, Whistle._\n\n \"Whistle, daughter, whistle,\n And I'll give you a sheep.\"\n\n [_After an interval._] \"Mother, I'm asleep.\"\n\n \"Whistle, daughter, whistle,\n And I'll give you a cow.\"\n\n [_A faint attempt._] \"Mother, I don't know how.\"\n \"Whistle, daughter, whistle,\n And I'll give you a man.\"\n\n [_A loud and clear whistle._] \"Mother, now I can!\"\n\n\n _New York._\n\nThe subject of this and the preceding number has furnished endless\nmirth to popular poetry. The present song is ancient; for it is\nidentical with a German, Flemish, and French round of the fifteenth or\nsixteenth century, in which a _nun_ (or monk) is tempted to _dance_\nby similar offers. The spirit of the latter piece seems to be rather\nlight-hearted ridicule than puritanic satire, and the allusion does not\nshow that the piece is subsequent to the Reformation.\n\n\nNo. 34.\n\n_There were Three Jolly Welshmen._\n\n There were three jolly Welshmen,\n And I have heard them say,\n That they would go a-hunting\n Upon St. David's day--\n _Look--a--there--now!_\n\n They hunted, they hunted,\n And nothing could they find,\n But a woman in the road,\n And her they left behind--\n _Look--a--there--now!_\n\n One said it was a woman,\n The other said nay;\n One said it was an angel\n With the wings blowed away--\n _Look--a--there--now!_\n\nWe have obtained only three verses of the song, which was a favorite\nwith little children as they sat on the door-step of a summer's\nevening. Another version of the ancient jest comes to us as sung by\ncollege students:\n\n(_Slow and mournful, in C minor._)\n\n And so they went along,\n To see what they could see,\n And soon they saw a frog\n A-sitting under a tree.\n (_Recit._) So--they--did.\n\n One said it was a frog,\n But the other said nay--\n One said it was a canary-bird\n With the feathers blown away.\n (_Recit._) So--it--was.\n\n And so they went along,\n To see what they could see,\n And soon they saw a barn\n A-standing by a tree.\n\n One said it was a barn,\n But the other said nay,\n One said it was a meeting-house\n With the steeple blown away.\n\n And so they went along,\n To see what they could see,\n And soon they saw an owl,\n A-sitting on a tree.\n\n One said it was an owl,\n But the other said nay,\n One said it was the Evil One!\n And they all ran away.\n\n\nNo. 35.\n\n_A Hallowe'en Rhyme._\n\nA ROUND.\n\n Oh, dear doctor, don't you cry!\n Your true love will come by-and-by.\n\n If she comes all dressed in green,\n That's a sign she's to be seen.\n\n If she comes all dressed in white,\n That's a sign she'll cry all night.\n\n If she comes all dressed in gray,\n That's a sign that she's away.\n\n If she comes all dressed in blue,\n That's a sign she'll marry you.\n\n _New York._\n\nA variation:\n\n Oh, Miss Betsy, don't you cry!\n For your true love will come _by'm-bye_;\n When he comes he'll dress in blue--\n Then he'll bring you, something new.\n\n _Massachusetts._\n\nThese corrupt rhymes are only interesting as illustrating the\npermanence of Hallowe'en customs, even in America. The Scotch rhyme of\nChambers goes--\n\n This knot, this knot, this knot I knit,\n To see the thing I ne'er saw yet--\n To see my love in his array,\n And what he walks in every day;\n And what his occupation be,\n This night I in my sleep may see.\n And if my love be clad in green,\n His love for me is well seen;\n And if my love be clad in gray,\n His love for me is far away;\n But if my love be clad in blue,\n His love for me is very true.\n\nAfter repeating these words, the girl puts her knotted garter beneath\nher pillow, and sleeps on it, when her future husband will appear to\nher in a dream.\n\n\nNo. 36.\n\n_The Doctor's Prescription._\n\nA ROUND.\n\n Oh, dear doctor, can you tell,\n What will make poor ---- well?\n She is sick and like to die,\n And that will make poor ---- cry.\n\nA kiss was the prescription.\n\nWe insert this silly little round, chiefly because, according to Madame\nCelnart, a French equivalent was in favor, not with infants, but\nladies and gentlemen in polite society, only half a century since. Our\nauthority says:\n\n\"The master or the mistress of this round is called _doctor_. This\ndoctor takes the arm of the person seated on his right, regards him\nor her with an eye of compassion, feels his pulse, and then gives his\norder, which everybody repeats, singing, 'Give me your arm that I may\ncure you, for you seem to me to look ill.'[80] Then, designating by a\nglance some person of the other sex, he says, 'Embrace monsieur (or\nmadame) to cure you; it is an excellent remedy.' All the persons in the\nring are submitted to this treatment, which the physician knows how to\nrender piquant by the choice of the panacea which he recommends to his\npatient; when everybody is cured, the doctor passes over his science\nand dignity to the last person who has tested the efficacy of his\nprescription, and in his turn falls sick, to make trial of the pleasing\nremedy.\"\n\nThe general theme of our vulgarized round is more agreeably expressed\nin the quaint and ancient Canadian song which we have cited as the\nmotto of the present chapter.\n\n\nNo. 37.\n\n_Old Grimes._\n\n Old Grimes is dead and in his grave laid,\n In his grave, in his grave, in his grave laid--\n _O aye O!_\n\n There grew up an apple-tree over his head--\n The apples were ripe and ready to fall--\n Then came an old woman a-picking them up--\n Old Grimes got up and gave her a kick--\n And made her go hobbledy, hobbledy, hip--\n The bridles and saddles they hang on the shelf--\n And if you want any more you must sing it yourself--\n _O aye O!_\n\n _New York streets._\n\nA friend informs us that he has often heard the words of this\nunintelligible round sung as a \"shanty,\" or song used by sailors at\ntheir work, with the chorus, _yeo heave-ho_! In Cambridge, Mass., the\nname of the deceased was \"Old Cromwell.\" We have also a version of half\na century since, beginning,\n\n Jemmy and Nancy went up to Whitehall,\n Jemmy fell sick among them all.\n\n\nNo. 38.\n\n_The Baptist Game._\n\nSuch is the peculiar title of this amusement in Virginia, where it is\nsaid to be enjoyed by pious people who will not dance. There is a row\nof couples, with an odd player at the head. At the sudden close of the\nsong occurs a grand rush and change of partners.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Come, all ye young men, in your evil ways,\n And sow your wild oats in your youthful days;\n You shall be happy,\n You shall be happy,\n When you grow old.\n\n The night is far spent, and the day's coming on,\n So give us your arm, and we'll jog along,\n You shall be happy,\n You shall be happy,\n When you grow old.\n\n _Albemarle Co., Va._\n\nThis game, with verbal identity (save the title), was a few years since\nan amusement of well-bred girls in New York city. It has also been\nfamiliar in Massachusetts, with the exception of one line--\n\n Come all ye _old maids_ in your sinful ways!\n\n\nNo. 39.\n\n_Trials, Troubles, and Tribulations._\n\nAll participating are blindfolded, and, joining hands, march forward,\nsinging--\n\n Here we go through the Jewish nation,\n Trials, troubles, and tribulation.\n\nThe fun consists in bringing up against a door, or in causing a general\ndownfall by tripping over some obstacle.\n\n _New York._\n\n\nNo. 40.\n\n_Happy is the Miller._\n\nAn odd number of players, of whom the one not paired stands in the\ncentre of the ring. The others march in couples, each consisting of a\ngirl and a boy, till the sudden end of the song, when each boy grasps\nthe girl in front of him.\n\n Happy is the miller, who lives by himself,\n All the bread and cheese he piles upon the shelf,\n One hand in the hopper, and the other in the bag,\n The wheel turns around, and he cries out, Grab!\n\n _Western New York._\n\nAnother version:\n\n Happy is the miller that lives in the mill;\n While the mill goes round, he works with a will;\n One hand in the hopper, and one in the bag,\n The mill goes around, and he cries out, Grab!\n\n _Cincinnati._\n\nThe miller, whose pay used to be taken in a proportion of corn ground,\nwas a common object of popular satire.\n\nIn Germany the mill-wheel, as it slowly revolves, is said to exclaim--\n\n There is--a thief--in the mill!\n\nThen, moving more quickly--\n\n Who is he? who is he? who is he?\n\nAnd at last answers very fast, and without pausing--\n\n The miller! the miller! the miller!\n\n\"Round and Round, the Mill Goes Round,\" is mentioned as an English\ndance at the end of the seventeenth century. A song of \"The Happy\nMiller\" is printed in \"Pills to Purge Melancholy\" (1707), of which the\nfirst verse is--\n\n How happy is the mortal that lives by his mill!\n That depends on his own, not on Fortune's wheel;\n By the sleight of his hand, and the strength of his back,\n How merrily his mill goes, clack, clack, clack!\n\nThis song was doubtless founded on the popular game; but the modern\nchildren's sport has preserved the idea, if not the elegance, of the\nold dance better than the printed words of a hundred and seventy years\nsince. A variation of the same game is still familiar in Canada and\nSweden.[81]\n\n\nNo. 41.\n\n_The Miller of Gosport._\n\nThat the prejudice against the honesty of the miller was not confined\nto the Old World will appear from the following ballad:\n\n There was an old miller in Gosport did dwell:\n He had three sons whom he loved full well;\n He called them to him, one--by--one,\n Saying, \"My--life--is--al--most--done!\"[82]\n\n He called to him his eldest son,\n Saying, \"My life is almost done,\n And if I to you the mill shall make,\n Pray, say what toll you mean to take?\"\n\n \"Father,\" says he, \"my name is Dick,\n And aout of each bushel I'll take one peck--\n Of every bushel--that--I--grind,\n I'll take one peck to ease my mind.\"\n\n \"Thou foolish son,\" the old man said,\n \"Thou hasn't but one half larnt thy trade!\n The mill to you I'll never give,\n For by such toll no man can thrive.\"\n\n He called to him his second son,\n Saying, \"My life is almost done,\n And if I to you the mill shall make,\n Pray, say what toll you mean to take?\"\n\n \"Father,\" says he, \"my name is Ralph,\n And aout of each bushel I'll take one half--\n Of every bushel that I grind,\n I'll take one half to ease my mind.\"\n\n \"Thou foolish son,\" the old man said,\n \"Thou hasn't but one half larnt thy trade;\n The mill to you I'll never give,\n For by such toll no man can thrive.\"\n\n He called to him his youngest son,\n Saying, \"My life is almost done;\n And if I to you the mill shall make,\n Pray, say what toll you mean to take?\"\n\n \"Father,\" says he, \"I _am_ your boy,\n And in taking of toll shall be all my joy;\n That an honest living I ne'er may lack,\n I'll take the whole, and steal the sack.\"\n\n \"Thou _art_ my son,\" the old man said;\n \"Thou'st larnt thy good--old--fayther's trade;\n The mill to you I do--betide\"--\n And--so--he--closed--his eyes--and--died.\n\nAnother version finds its way to us from the West, and ends with an\nuncomplimentary opinion as to the habitation of the miller in the other\nworld.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[80]\n\n Donne-moi ton bras que je te gu\u00e9risse,\n Car tu m'as l'air malade,\n Loula,\n Car tu m'as l'air malade!\n\n[81] The Canadian words are, \"J'entends le moulin, tique, tique,\ntique.\" Probably the old English dance ended, \"How merrily the mill\ngoes, clack, clack, clack!\" after which, as now in Canada, partners\nwere changed, and the odd player in the centre had an opportunity to\nsecure a place, or to find a mate.\n\n[82] The pauses lengthen as the patient grows weaker.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\n_FLOWER ORACLES, ETC._\n\n\n A spire of grass hath made me gay;\n It saith, I shall find mercy mild.\n I measured in the selfsame way\n I have seen practised by a child.\n Come look and listen if she really does:\n She does, does not, she does, does not, she does.\n Each time I try, the end so augureth.\n That comforts me--'tis right that we have faith.\n\n _Walther von der Vogelweide_ [A.D. 1170-1230].\n\n\nNo. 42.\n\n_Flower Oracles._\n\nPlucking one by one the petals of the ox-eye daisy (_Leucanthemum\nvulgare_), children ask:\n\n Rich man, poor man, beggar-man, thief,\n Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief.[83]\n\nGirls then take a second flower, and, getting some one else to name it,\nproceed, in order to determine where they are to live:\n\n Big house, little house, pigsty, barn.\n\nAnd in like manner use a third to discover in what dress they are to be\nmarried:\n\n Silk, satin, calico, rags.\n\nFinally, they consult a fourth, to find out what the bridal equipage is\nto be:\n\n Coach, wagon, wheelbarrow, chaise.\n\nAnother version gives for the second line of the first formula:\n\n Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief.\n\nIn Switzerland, girls in like manner say, as they pick off the\nflower-leaves of the common daisy (_Bellis perennis_):\n\n Be single, marry, or go into the cloister?\n\nAnd boys--\n\n Rich, poor, moderate?\n\nThe marguerite (_Doronicum bellidiastrum_) is asked in the same country:\n\n Heaven, hell, purgatory, paradise?\n\nAnd in Styria is called \"Love's Measure,\" because it determines the\nreturn of affection according to the well-known formula, \"He loves me,\nhe loves me not,\" for which a French equivalent is:\n\n Je t'aime, un peu, beaucoup,\n Tendrement, pas du tout.\n\nBut in Switzerland again the questions for the marguerite exactly match\nours:\n\n Nobleman, beggar-man, farmer, soldier, student,\n Emperor, king, gentleman.\n\nThe verse is similar in Italy. It is curious to see the precise\ncorrespondence of English and Continental forms.\n\nMedi\u00e6val writers do not mention this use of flower-petals, but\nfrequently allude to the custom of drawing spires of grass, to secure\nthe longer (or shorter, as might be agreed). Thus lads might draw\ngrasses, for the purpose of deciding to which of the two a maiden\nmight belong as a partner. This was so usual a way of deciding a\ncontroversy that it was even recognized in law, where the parties to\na suit drew straws from a thatch or sheaf. Children still resort to a\nlike arbitrament, where one holds the straws in the hand, and the other\ndraws, the shorter straw winning. To our surprise, we find that girls\nin Massachusetts still keep up the medi\u00e6val usage; they draw stalks\nof grass in the field, and match them, to decide who shall begin a\ngame--be \"it.\"[84]\n\nWe have seen that the formula \"Loves me, loves me not,\" was used in\nthe Middle Age with grasses. In Italy the oracle is consulted by means\nof the branch of a tree. A twig is taken having alternate leaves, and\nthey are detached one by one, the consulter always turning the head\nas the words of the oracle are spoken. The formulas for this purpose\nclosely resemble our own: thus, \"This year, another year, soon, never,\"\nwhich is exactly identical with the English \"This year, next year, some\ntime, never;\" or, \"He loves me, longs for me, desires me, wishes me\nwell; wishes me ill, does not care;\" or, as in the Swiss form given,\n\"Paradise, Purgatory, _Caldron_\" (that is, Inferno).\n\n\nNo. 43.\n\n_Use of Flowers in Games._\n\nFlowers are gathered and loved by children as they have always been,\nand are used by them in all sorts of imaginative exercises of their own\ninvention, as, for instance, by girls in their imitative housekeeping;\nbut there is singularly little employment of them in any definite\ngames. Formerly it was otherwise; but the deep sympathy which blooming\nyouth once felt and expressed for the bloom of the year seems to have\nalmost disappeared.\n\nIn the Middle Age, as in classic antiquity, flowers were much in use\nfor dances. Great attention was paid to the significance of particular\nblooms. \"What flowers will you give me for a garland? What flowers\nare proper for adornment?\" are mentioned as names of sports. It was a\npractice for the lover to approach his mistress with a flower or fruit\nwhich he offered for her acceptance. If the girl accepted the gift, the\nyouth led her out, and the dance began. Another ancient practice was\nto throw to a girl some bloom, at the same time pronouncing a couplet\nwhich rhymed with the name of the flower. The ball, too, with which\nyouths and maids played, was sometimes made of flowers.\n\nAlmost the only relic of ancient usage of this sort, with us, is the\nemployment little girls make of dandelions, with which (in some parts\nof the country) they make long garlands, cutting off the heads and\nstringing them together.\n\nThis use of the dandelion is very old, from which it derives one of\nits many German names, the _chain-flower_ or _ring-flower_. On account\nof its early bloom and golden hue it is especially the flower of\nspring, and seems to have had a religious and symbolic meaning. In\nSwitzerland these garlands are used in the dance, the children holding\na long wreath of the flowers so as to form a circle within the ring;\nand whoever breaks the chain pays forfeit. The plant is said to be\nof healing virtue, gives happiness to the lover, and, if plucked on\nparticular days, will heal troubles of the eye. It has these qualities\non account of its brightness, which causes it to be associated with the\nvictorious power of light.\n\nThere are other ways of using this flower. A dandelion in seed is held\nto the lips; if the seeds can all be blown off in three attempts, it is\na sign of successful love, of marriage within the year; or, with little\ngirls, that \"my mother wants me.\"\n\nLittle girls also split the stalks of the flower, and, dipping them in\ncold water, produce \"curls,\" with which they adorn themselves. This\nusage, too, is German.\n\nWe may speak of the trifling lore of one or two other flowers. A\nbuttercup is held against one child's chin by another, and a bright\nreflection is supposed (prosaically enough) to indicate a fondness for\nbutter!\n\nIt was formerly said in New England that the heart's-ease (_Viola\ntricolor_) represented a \"step-mother sitting on two chairs.\" The\npetals being turned up, the step-mother is seen to have two chairs, her\nchildren one each, and her step-children only one between them.\n\nThat this flower represents an unkind step-mother is stated in a\nLow-German rhyme of the fifteenth century; and step-mother is also\nan English name for the heart's-ease. There is another reason for\nthe title besides that we have given. In Switzerland the flower is\nconsidered a type of malice, because the older the flower is the more\nyellow and \"jealous\" it becomes. Thus we have another striking example\nof the original similarity of English and German usage.\n\nBoys in the spring are fond of blowing on the fresh blades of grass,\nwith which they can make a loud but harsh trumpeting. This practice, in\nGermany, is mentioned at the beginning of the thirteenth century.\n\nIt is the custom still for boys to make whistles in the spring from\nthe loosened bark of the willow; but they do not guess that this was\noriginally a superstitious rite, the pipe cut from a tree which grows\nin the water being supposed to have the power of causing rain. The\nSwiss children, though unconsciously, still invoke the water-spirit as\nthey separate the bark from the wood:\n\n Franz, Franz,\n Lend me your pipe.\n\n\nNo. 44.\n\n_Counting Apple-seeds._\n\nThe following rhyme, used in New England at the beginning of the\npresent century, remains unchanged in a single word, except the\nomission of the last three lines.\n\nApples formerly were an essential part of every entertainment in the\ncountry; in the winter season, a dish of such always stood on the\nsideboard. As the hours went by, a foaming dish of eggnog would be\nbrought in, always with a red-hot poker inserted, for the purpose of\nkeeping up the proper temperature. It was then that the apple, having\nbeen properly named, with a fillip of the finger was divided, to decide\nthe fate of the person concerned according to its number of seeds.\n\n One, I love,\n Two, I love,\n Three, I love, I say,\n Four, I love with all my heart,\n And five, I cast away;\n Six, he loves,\n Seven, she loves,\n Eight, they both love;\n Nine, he comes,\n Ten, he tarries,\n Eleven, he courts,\n Twelve, he marries;\n Thirteen wishes,\n Fourteen kisses,\n All the rest little witches.\n\n\nNo. 45.\n\n_Rose in the Garden._\n\nWe insert here, on account of the allusions to nature which they\ncontain, several pieces which might also have found a place elsewhere\nin our collection; the present, for instance, being eminently a\n\"love-game.\"\n\nA single player stands in the centre of the ring, which circles and\nsings:\n\n There's a rose in the garden for you, fair man,\n There's a rose in the garden for you, fair maid;\n There's a rose in the garden, pluck it if you can,\n Be sure you don't choose a false-hearted one.\n\nThe youth or girl in the centre chooses a partner, and the ring sings:\n\n It's a bargain, it's a bargain, for you, fair man,\n It's a bargain, it's a bargain, for you, fair maid.\n\nNow follows a fragment of romance, which in our version is unhappily\ncorrupt:\n\n You promised to marry me six months ago,\n I hold you to your bargain, \"_you old rogue you_.\"\n\nAfter a kiss, the first player takes his or her place in the ring, and\nthe partner selected is left to continue the game.\n\n _Deerfield, Mass._ (about 1810).\n\nTo the same game, perhaps, belongs the following fragment:\n\n Here stands a red rose in the ring--\n Promised to marry a long time ago.\n\nThe comparison of a youth or maid to a rose is not uncommon in dances.\nWe have a pretty French example in the Canadian round cited below;[85]\nand another English instance in our No. 62.\n\n\nNo. 46.\n\n_There was a Tree Stood in the Ground._\n\n[Illustration]\n\n There was a tree stood in the ground,\n The prettiest tree you ever did see;\n The tree in the wood, and the wood in the ground;\n And the green grass growing all round, round, round,\n And the green grass growing all round.\n\n And on this tree there was a limb,\n The prettiest limb you ever did see;\n The limb on the tree, and the tree in the wood,\n The tree in the wood, and the wood in the ground,\n And the green grass growing all round, round, round,\n And the green grass growing all round.\n\n And on this limb there was a bough,\n The prettiest bough you ever did see;\n The bough on the limb, and the limb on the tree, etc.\n\n And on this bough there was a twig,\n The prettiest twig you ever did see;\n The twig on the bough, and the bough on the limb, etc.\n\n And on this twig there was a nest,\n The prettiest nest you ever did see;\n The nest on the twig, and the twig on the bough, etc.\n\n And in this nest there were some eggs,[86]\n The prettiest eggs you ever did see;\n The eggs in the nest, and the nest on the twig, etc.\n\n And in the eggs there was a bird,\n The prettiest bird you ever did see;\n The bird in the eggs, and the eggs in the nest, etc.\n\n And on the bird there was a wing,\n The prettiest wing you ever did see;\n The wing on the bird, and the bird in the eggs, etc.\n\n And on the wing there was a feather,\n The prettiest feather you ever did see;\n The feather on the wing, and the wing on the bird, etc.\n\n And on the feather there was some down,\n The prettiest down you ever did see;\n The down on the feather, and the feather on the wing,\n The feather on the wing, and the wing on the bird,\n The wing on the bird, and the bird in the eggs,\n The bird in the eggs, and the eggs in the nest,\n The eggs in the nest, and the nest on the twig,\n The nest on the twig, and the twig on the bough,\n The twig on the bough, and the bough on the limb,\n The bough on the limb, and the limb on the tree,\n The limb on the tree, and the tree in the wood,\n The tree in the wood, and the wood in the ground,\n And the green grass growing all round, round, round,\n And the green grass growing all round.\n\n _Savannah, Georgia._\n\nThis song is not known in the North, and it is equally unrecorded\nin English nursery-lore, but is very familiar in France (as well as\nGermany, Denmark, etc.). We are inclined to look on it as an adaptation\nfrom the French, made by the children of _\u00e9migr\u00e9s_, like the curious\ngame which makes our next number.[87]\n\n\nNo. 47.\n\n_+Green!+_\n\nIn parts of Georgia and South Carolina, as soon as a group of girls\nare fairly out of the house for a morning's play, one suddenly points\nthe finger at a companion with the exclamation, \"Green!\" The child so\naccosted must then produce some fragment of verdure, the leaf of a\ntree, a blade of grass, etc., from the apparel, or else pay forfeit to\nthe first after the manner of \"philopoena.\" It is rarely, therefore,\nthat a child will go abroad without a bit of \"green,\" the practice\nalmost amounting to a superstition. The object of each is to make the\nrest believe that the required piece of verdure has been forgotten, and\nyet to keep it at hand. Sometimes it is drawn from the shoe, or carried\nin the brooch, or in the garter. Nurses find in the pockets, or in the\nlining of garments, all manner of fragments which have served this\npurpose. This curious practice is not known elsewhere in America; but\nit is mentioned by Rabelais, under the name by which it is still played\nin parts of Central France, \"Je vous prends sans vert\"--\"I catch you\nwithout green.\" The game, however, is not merely a children's sport,\nand is played differently from our description. At Ch\u00e2tillon-sur-Inde\nit is during Lent, and only after the singing of the _Angelus_, that\n\"green\" is played. If any lady accost you and shows you her bough, you\nmust immediately exhibit yours. If you have not such a one, or if your\ngreen is of a shade less rich than your adversary's, you lose a point;\nin case of doubt, the matter is referred to an umpire. The game was\nmuch in vogue from the thirteenth to the fourteenth century, and is\ndescribed as a May-game. \"During the first days of May, every one took\ncare to carry on his person a little green bough, and those who were\nnot so provided were liable to hear themselves addressed, _I catch you\nwithout green_, and to receive, at the same instant, a pail of water on\nthe head. This amusement, however, was in use only among the members\nof certain societies, who took the name of _Sans-vert_. Those who\nbelonged to these had a right to visit each other at any hour of the\nday, and administer the bath whenever they found each other unprovided.\nIn addition, the members so surprised were condemned to a pecuniary\nfine, and the income of these fines was devoted to merry repasts\nwhich, at certain seasons of the year, united all the comrades of the\n_Sans-vert_.\"[88]\n\nThe practice has given to the French language a proverb: _to take any\none without green_, to take him unawares.\n\nOur child's game was doubtless imported by Huguenot immigrants, who\nestablished themselves in the states referred to two centuries since,\nwhere they long preserved their language and customs, and from whom\nmany well-known families are descended.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[83] Played also on buttons. A friend informs us that, as a child,\nhe had his buttons altered, in order that the oracle might return an\nagreeable response.\n\n[84] In Cambridge, Mass.\n\n[85]\n\n Dans ma main droite je tiens rosier,\n Qui fleurira, qui fleurira,\n Qui fleurira au mois de Mai.\n Entrez en danse, joli rosier,\n Et embrassez qui vous plaira.\n\n --_Canadian Round._\n\n[86] So recited.\n\n[87] A French version:\n\n Au dedans Paris,\n Vous ne savez ce qu'il y a?\n\n Il y a-t-un bois,\n C'est le plus beau bois\n Parmi tous les bois;\n Le bois est dans Paris.\n Ah! le joli bois,\n Madame;\n Ah! le joli bois!\n * * * * *\n Il y a-t-une plume,\n C'est la plus belle plume\n De toutes les plumes;\n La plume est sur l'oiseau,\n L'oiseau est dans l'oeuf,\n L'oeuf est dans le nid,\n Le nid est sur la feuille,\n La feuille est sur la branche,\n L'arbre est dans le bois.\n Ah! le joli bois,\n Madame;\n Ah! le joli bois!\n\n[88] The custom has been supposed to be derived from the ancient\nRoman usage of gathering _green_ on the calends of May, with which to\ndecorate the house.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\n_BIRD AND BEAST._\n\n\n \"My brother, the hare,... my sisters, the doves....\"\n\n _St. Francis of Assisi._\n\n\nNo. 48.\n\n_My Household._\n\nThe names of animals being distributed among children, one, in the\ncentre of the ring, sings the words; at the proper point the child who\nrepresents the animal must imitate its cry; and as at each verse the\nanimals who have already figured join in, the game becomes rather noisy.\n\n I had a little rooster, and my rooster pleased me,\n I fed my rooster beneath that tree;\n My rooster went--Cookery-cooery!\n Other folks feed their rooster, I feed my rooster too.\n\n I had a little lamb, and my lamb pleased me,\n I fed my lamb beneath that tree;\n My lamb went--Ma--a--a!\n Other folks feed their lamb, I feed my lamb too.\n\nAnd so on with the names of other beasts.\n\n _Georgia._\n\nIn another version, it is under the \"green bay-tree\" (_Magnolia\nglauca_) that the animals are stabled.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThis is another of the games which have been widely distributed through\nEurope, and date back to a remote past. At present, with us it is a\nchild's jest, the noisy imitation of animal cries; but, as in all such\ncases, sense preceded sound. Comparing German versions, we see that our\ngame is properly a song, the idea of which consists in the enumeration\nby significant and comical names of the members and possessions of\na family. \"When I was a poor woman, I went over the Rhine: my goose\nwas called _Wag-tail_, my maid _So he said_, my pig _Lard-pot_, my\nflea _Hop-i'-straw_\" etc. A more courtly version gives us a pleasing\npilgrim's song: \"Whence come you?--From sunset. Whither will you?--To\nsunrise. To what country?--Home. Where is it?--A hundred miles away.\nWhat is your name?--The world names me _Leap a-field_, my sword is\n_Honor worth_, my wife _Pastime_, her maid _Lie-a-bed_, my child\n_Rush-about_,\" etc.\n\nThus we see the ancient earnestness appearing behind the modern\nmirth. It is likely that the origin of the song would take us back to\nthose lists of mythical titles which were regarded as conveying real\nknowledge of the relations of things, at a time when a large part of\nlearning consisted in the knowledge of the significant names which were\ngiven to objects.\n\n\nNo. 49.\n\n_Frog-pond._\n\nA party of children, who represent frogs by a hopping motion. At the\nword \"kough,\" they imitate the croaking of the frog.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Come, neighbors, the moon is up,\n It's pleasant out here on the bank.\n Come, stick your heads out of the tank,\n And let us, before we sup,\n Go kough, kough, kough.\n And let us, before we sup,\n Go kough, kough, kough.\n\nEnter child in character of duck--\n\n Hush, yonder is the waddling duck,\n He's coming, I don't mean to stay.\n We'd better by half hop our way,\n If we don't he will gobble us up,\n With a kough, kough, kough.\n If we don't he will gobble us up,\n With a kough, kough, kough.\n\nEvery frog hops to his separate den, while pursued by the duck, the\ngame after the duck's advent being extremely animated.\n\n _Georgia._\n\n\nNo. 50.\n\n_Bloody Tom._\n\nWithin the ring is the shepherd; the wolf approaches from without. A\ndialogue ensues:\n\n \"Who comes here?\"\n \"Bloody Tom.\"\n \"What do you want?\"\n \"My sheep.\"\n \"Take the worst, and leave the best,\n And never come back to trouble the rest.\"\n\n _Salem, Mass._\n\nA New Hampshire version makes the game represent a fox, who carries off\nchickens, thus:\n\n \"Who comes here this dark night?\"\n \"Who but bloody Tom!--Which you druther be, picked or scalded?\"\n\nThe Esthonian Fins have a characteristic children's game, based on\nthe same idea, which may be quoted, to show how much imagination and\nspirit enter into the sports of a simple people. A watchman on duty at\nthe sheepfold announces his office in a soliloquy:\n\n Thus I guard my mother's lambkins,\n Guard the flocks of my good mother,\n Here before God's holy temple,\n Here behind Maria's cloister,\n Near the halls of our Creator.\n At the house the mother, knitting,\n Shapes the stockings of blue woollen,\n Woollen stockings seamed with scarlet,\n Jackets of the snow-white worsted.\n I build hedges, stakes I sharpen,\n Mould the brazen gratings strongly,\n That the thieves come in and steal not,\n Take not from the flock its sheep-dog,\n Nor the wolf steal in and plunder,\n Seize my mother's tender lambkins,\n Rob the young lambs of my father.\n\nA girl entices away the shepherd, while a boy as wolf carries off part\nof the herd, and another as dog barks. The mother of the family hastens\nup, beats the traitor, and the herdsmen go with staves to seek the lost\nlamb. The garland it wore is found and identified. With shouts of,\n\"Lamb, lamb,\" it is found at last, caressed, and its bruises examined.\n\n\nNo. 51.\n\n_Blue-birds and Yellow-birds._\n\nA ring of girls with their hands clasped and lifted. A girl, called\n(according to the color of her dress) blue-bird, black-bird,\nyellow-bird, etc., enters, and passes into the ring under an arch\nformed by a pair of lifted hands, singing to any suitable tune:\n\n Here comes a blue-bird through the window,\n Here comes a blue-bird through the window,\n Here comes a blue-bird through the window,\n High diddle dum day!\n\nShe seizes a child, and waltzes off with her, singing:\n\n Take a little dance and a hop-i'-the-corner,[89]\n Take a little dance and a hop-i'-the-corner,\n Take a little dance and a hop-i'-the-corner,\n High diddle dum day!\n\nAfter the dance the chosen partner leads, named, as before, according\nto the color of her costume. The child, as she enters, must imitate by\nher raised arms the flight of a bird, making a very pretty dance.\n\n _Cincinnati._\n\n\nNo. 52.\n\n_Ducks Fly._\n\nA girl, speaking the words \"Ducks fly,\" raises her hand to imitate the\nflight of the bird; so on with robins, eagles, etc., while all the rest\nmust imitate her example; but she finally says \"Cats fly,\" or some\nsimilar expression, when any child who is incautious enough to raise\nthe hand (or thumb) must pay forfeit.\n\n _New York._\n\nTrifling as the catch is, it has been popular in Europe. In some\ncountries, instead of birds who fly, the question is of beasts who have\nor do not have horns.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[89] Pronounced _hop-sie-corner_.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\n_HUMAN LIFE._\n\n\n Lilies are white, rosemary's green;\n When you are king, I will be queen.\n\n Roses are red, lavender's blue;\n If you will have me, I will have you.\n\n _Gammer Gurton's Garland._\n\n\nNo. 53.\n\n_King and Queen._\n\nThis game is now a mere jest. A row of chairs is so arranged as to\nleave a vacant space, which is concealed by shawls or other coverings,\nand represents a throne. The courtiers having taken their places,\nthe newly elected monarch is ceremoniously seated by the side of his\nconsort, and the fun consists in witnessing his downfall.\n\nBy Strutt's description, it appears that in the beginning of the\ncentury this was in use as a species of \"hazing\" in English girls'\nschools:\n\n\"In some great boarding-schools for the fair sex it is customary, upon\nthe introduction of a novice, for the scholars to receive her with\nmuch pretended solemnity, and decorate a throne in which she is to be\ninstalled, in order to hear a set speech, addressed to her by one of\nthe young ladies in the name of the rest. The throne is wide enough\nfor three persons to sit conveniently, and is made with two stools,\nhaving a tub nearly filled with water between them, and the whole is\ncovered with a counterpane or blanket, ornamented with ribands and\nother trifling fineries, and drawn very tightly over the two stools,\nupon each of which a lady is seated to keep the blanket from giving way\nwhen the new scholar takes her place; and these are called her maids\nof honor. The speech consists of high-flown compliments calculated to\nflatter the vanity of the stranger; and as soon as it is concluded, the\nmaids of honor rising suddenly together, the counterpane of course\ngives way, and poor miss is unexpectedly immerged in the water.\"\n\nIn Austria the same game is called \"conferring knighthood.\" All present\nare dressed as knights, in paper helmets, great mustachios, sticks for\nlances, wooden swords, etc. Two, who represent the oldest knights, are\nseated on the two stools, between which is a vacant space, while the\nrest form a half-circle about the _Grand Master_, who wears a mask\nand wig, and holds a great roll of paper. Meanwhile the candidate, in\na separate room, is prepared by two knights for the ceremony; these\ninstruct him in his behavior, until the embassy arrives to lead him\nbefore the Grand Master. The latter delivers a solemn address, and\nfrom the document in his hands reads the rule of the order--silence,\ncourage, truth, etc. Then follows the vow, the delivery of the knightly\ncostume, and the solemn bestowal of the stroke which dubs the victim a\nknight. He is finally invited to take his seat in the circle, with the\nresult described in our own jest.\n\nThe name, \"King and Queen,\" recalls a game as old as history, that of\nelecting a king, who proceeded to confer offices of state, and assign\nduties. Herodotus tells us how the child Cyrus showed his royal birth\nby the severity with which he punished his disobedient subjects. In\nSwitzerland, the children still choose, by \"counting out,\" a king\nand an executioner. The king proceeds to impose tasks. Geiler of\nKaisersberg, in a sermon, A.D. 1507, gives the formula then in use in\nthe game: \"Sir king, I wish to serve you.\" \"And what is your service?\"\n\"What you command me, I would execute.\" \"I bid you do an honor to the\nking.\" For this game, as still played in Switzerland, a queen is also\nchosen; after a time, the king exclaims, \"I make a journey,\" when the\nwhole company, in couples, follow him through the chambers of the house\nor streets of the town on his royal progress. The old English game of\n\"Questions and Commands\" seems to have been the same. A writer in the\n_Gentlemen's Magazine_, February, 1738, gives its formula: \"King I\nam,\" says one boy; another answers, \"I am your man.\" Then his majesty\ndemands what service will he do him; to which the obsequious courtier\nreplies, \"The best, and worst, and all I can.\"\n\n\nNo. 54.\n\n_Follow Your Leader._\n\nIn this game, the leader having been chosen by \"speaking first,\" or\n\"counting out,\" the rest must do whatever he does. It is usually played\nout-of-doors, and the children \"follow their leader\" in a row, across\nroads, fences, and ditches, jumping from heights, and creeping under\nbarriers.[90] We are told that the game is played in a peculiarly\nreckless fashion in the South, where the leader will sometimes go under\na horse's legs or between the wheels of a wagon, whereupon the driver,\nknowing what to expect, will stop for the rest.\n\nNo doubt this sport, now a mere exhibition of daring, has an ancient\norigin and history. Perhaps it was a development of the _king game_,\nalready referred to.\n\nThe technical word for challenge among children in America is \"stump.\"\nOne boy \"stumps\" another to do a thing. Whence derived?\n\n\nNo. 55.\n\n_Truth._\n\nThe game of \"Truth,\" as played in Massachusetts, is described by Miss\nAlcott in her \"Little Women,\" chapter xii. The players are there said\nto pile up their hands, choose a number, and draw out in turn, and the\nperson who draws his or her hand from the pile at the number selected\nhas to answer truly any questions put by the rest.\n\nWe have heard of a party of young people who met regularly to play this\ngame, but have been assured that it proved prolific of quarrels.\n\n\nNo. 56.\n\n_Initiation._\n\nWe have seen that the imitation of the ceremony of knighthood is still\na form of childish amusement in Europe. Here follows a jesting New\nEngland formula for such a purpose, though not a game of children, but\nbelonging to an older age:\n\n\"You must promise to obey three rules: first, never to do to-day what\nyou can put off till to-morrow; secondly, never to eat brown bread when\nyou can get white; thirdly, never to kiss the maid when you can kiss\nthe mistress, unless the maid is prettier than the mistress.\"\n\nThese vows having been taken, it is then said, \"Now I dub you knight of\nthe whistle.\" Meantime a whistle having been attached to the back of\nthe candidate, the fun consists in his attempts to discover the person\nwho blew it.\n\n\nNo. 57.\n\n_Judge and Jury._\n\nA child is chosen to be judge, two others for jurors (or, to speak with\nour little informant, _juries_), who sit at his right and left hand.\n\nEach child must ask the permission of the judge before taking any step.\nA platter is brought in, and a child, rising, asks the judge, \"May I go\ninto the middle of the room?\" \"May I turn the platter?\" \"On which side\nshall it fall?\"\n\nIf the platter falls on the wrong side, forfeit must be paid.\n\n _Cambridge, Mass._\n\nThe nursery, we see, does not understand republicanism. The fairy tale\nhas never got beyond the period in which the monarch orders the wicked\nwitch to immediate execution.\n\nIn the ancient world, however, where the courts were a place of resort,\nand law was not a specialized profession, the case was different.\nMaximus of Tyre tells us that the children had their laws and\ntribunals; condemnation extended to the forfeiture of toys. Cato the\nYounger, according to Plutarch, had his detestation of tyranny first\nawakened by the punishment inflicted on a playmate by such a tribunal.\nOne of the younger boys had been sentenced to imprisonment; the doom\nwas duly carried into effect, but Cato, moved by his cries, rescued him.\n\nIn a German game there is a king, a judge, an executioner, an accuser,\nand a thief. The parts are assigned by drawing lots, but the accuser\ndoes not know the name of the thief, and, if he makes an error, has\nto undergo the penalty in his stead. The judge finally addresses the\nking, inquiring if his majesty approves of his decision; and the king\nreplies, \"Yes, your sentence entitles you to my favor;\" or, \"No, your\nsentence entitles you to so many blows.\" Thus we see how modern\nchild's play respects the dignity of the king as the fountain of law.\n\nIn a Swiss sport the thief flies, and is chased over stock and stone\nuntil caught, when he is made to kneel down, his cap pushed over his\nbrows, and his head immediately struck off with the edge of a board. So\nis preserved the memory of the severity of ancient criminal law.\n\n\nNo. 58.\n\n_Three Jolly Sailors._\n\n Here comes a set of jolly sailor-boys,\n Who lately came on shore;\n They spend their time in drinking of the wine,\n As they have done before.\n As we go round, and around and around,\n As we go round once more.\n\n _New York streets._\n\nAt the second verse, the little girls by whom this round is danced\nturn so as to follow each other in an endless chain, each grasping the\nskirts of the child in front, while they move faster and faster to the\nlively tune.\n\nSome of our readers may think this song not a very creditable specimen\nof modern invention; but it is no doubt a relic of antiquity. A similar\nround, given in \"Deuteromelia,\" 1609 (as cited by Chappell), begins:\n\n We be three poor mariners, newly come from the seas;\n We spend our lives in jeopardy, while others live at ease.\n\nThe children of the poorer class, therefore, who still keep up in the\nstreets of our cities the present ring-dance, are only maintaining the\ncustoms which belonged to courtiers and noble ladies in the time of\nShakespeare.\n\n\nNo. 59.\n\n_Marching to Quebec._\n\nThis piece of doggerel may be of revolutionary origin, as it can be\ntraced to near the beginning of the present century. It is unusual for\npolitical or military events to be alluded to in children's games.\n\n As we were marching to Quebec,\n The drums were loudly beating;\n The Americans have won the day,\n The British are retreating.\n March! march! march! march!\n\nSo the game was played in Philadelphia in the childhood of a lady born\nat the end of the last century. In Massachusetts and Maine it continued\nto be popular until within a few years, as follows:\n\n We were marching to Quebec,\n The drums were loudly beating;\n America has gained the day,\n The British are retreating.\n\n The war is o'er, and they are turned back,\n For evermore departed;\n So open the ring, and take one in,\n For they are broken-hearted.\n\n Oh, you're the one that I love best,\n I praise you high and dearly;\n My heart you'll get, my hand I'll give,\n The kiss is most sincerely.\n\n _Worcester, Mass._\n\nThat the population of Dutch extraction in New York had no deep\nsympathy with the patriotic sentiments of revolutionary times seems\nto be indicated in a satirical stanza, which has come to us from an\ninformant who learned it in youth of her aged grandmother, and which\nappears also to have been originally a dance-song. We hope that errors\nin spelling American Dutch may be forgiven:\n\n Loope, Junger, de roier kome--\n Spann de wagen voor de Paarde!\n\nThat is,\n\n Run, lads, the king's men are coming;\n Harness the wagons before the horses!\n\nin jesting allusion to the speed with which the patriots were supposed\nto make off. The refrain is in part unintelligible to us, but seems to\nbelong to a dance.\n\n\nNo. 60.\n\n_Sudden Departure._\n\nA visitor approaches the ring from without, and pleads:\n\n It snows and it blows, and it cuts off my nose,\n So pray, little girl, let me in;\n I'll light my pipe, and warm my toes,\n And then I'll be gone again.\n\nHe is admitted into the circle, and proceeds to perform the designated\nactions. Having \"lighted his pipe and warmed his toes,\" he suddenly\nattempts to make his exit from the ring (all the members of which have\nclasped hands in expectation of his onset), throwing himself with that\nobject against a pair of linked arms.\n\n\nNo. 61.\n\n_Scorn._\n\nSuch was, and perhaps still is, the name of an amusement of a not very\nagreeable nature, familiar at children's parties in New England. A girl\nwas seated on a chair in the middle of the room, and one child after\nanother was led to her throne. She would turn away with an expression\nof contempt, until some one approached that pleased her, who, after a\nkiss, took her place.\n\n\"Derision\" is the name of a game mentioned by Froissart as an amusement\nof his childhood. It is not at all unlikely that the present sport\nrepresents the old French pastime.\n\nSpeaking of representations of the passions, we may say that we have\nheard of a game formerly played in New York, called \"Hatred and\nRevenge;\" but have not succeeded in obtaining it.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[90] A friend recollects how he \"followed his leader\" over the roofs of\nhouses in Boston.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\n_THE PLEASURES OF MOTION._\n\n\n He asked a shepherd who stood near:\n \"Why do these lads make merry here,\n Why is their round so gay?\"\n \"They dance about a violet sweet, a lad hath found to-day.\"\n The drum, the harp, and fife, resounded round their play,\n All were of heart elate,\n Each dancing with his mate.\n I, Nithart, led the row,\n Once and again, around the violet to and fro.\n\n _Minnesinger, 13th century._\n\n\nNo. 62.\n\n_Ring Around the Rosie._\n\nThis little round, universally familiar in America, meets us again\nin Germany and Provence. After the transit of various languages, and\nthousands of miles, the song retains the same essential characteristics.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Ring a ring a rosie,\n A bottle full of posie,\n All the girls in our town,\n Ring for little Josie.\n\n _New Bedford, Mass._ (about 1790).\n\nAnother version:\n\n Round the ring of roses,\n Pots full of posies,\n The one who stoops last\n Shall tell whom she loves best.\n\nAt the end of the words the children suddenly stoop, and the last to\nget down undergoes some penalty, or has to take the place of the child\nin the centre, who represents the \"rosie\" (rose-tree; French, _rosier_).\n\nVulgarized forms of the round are common:\n\n Ring around the rosie,\n Squat among the posies.\n\n Ring around the roses,\n Pocket full of posies,\n One, two, three--squat!\n\nAnd finally it is deformed past recognition:\n\n A ring, a ring, a ransy,\n Buttermilk and tansy,\n Flower here and flower there,\n And all--squat!\n\nThis last corruption was in use some forty years since in Connecticut.\n\n\nNo. 63.\n\n_Go Round and Round the Valley._\n\nA ring of dancers with clasped hands. A girl circles about the outside\nof the rest, who join in singing--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Go round and round the valley,\n As we are all so gay.\n\nThe players now let go hands, and she winds in and out of the circle,\nsinging--\n\n Go in and out of the windows,\n As we are all so gay.\n\nShe now stands facing one of the children, who sing--\n\n Go back, and face your lover,\n As we are all so gay.\n\nTaking the hand of one of the children, she salutes her--\n\n Such love have I to show you,\n As we are all so gay.\n\nThe child selected then takes her place.\n\n _New York streets._\n\n\nNo. 64.\n\n_The Farmer in the Dell._\n\n[Illustration]\n\n The farmer in the dell,\n The farmer in the dell,\n _Heigh ho! for Rowley O!_\n The farmer in the dell.\n\nThe first child chooses and places beside himself a second, then a\nthird, and so on, while the rest sing to the same tune:\n\n The farmer takes the wife--\n The wife takes the child--\n The child takes the nurse--\n The nurse takes the dog--\n The dog takes the cat--\n The cat takes the rat--\n The rat takes the cheese--\n The cheese stands alone.\n\nThe \"cheese\" is \"clapped out,\" and must begin again as the \"farmer.\"\n\n _New York streets._\n\n\nNo. 65.\n\n_The Game of Rivers._\n\nA girl is chosen to be the _Ocean_. The rest represent _rivers_. The\nrivers, by very devious courses (around school-desks, etc.), flow into\nthe Ocean. Not unfrequently in their course to the sea, the rivers\nencounter somewhat violently.\n\n _New York._\n\n\nNo. 66.\n\n_Quaker, How is Thee?_\n\n \"Quaker, Quaker, how is thee?\"\n \"Very well, I thank thee.\"\n \"How's thy neighbor, next to thee?\"\n \"I don't know, but I'll go see.\"\n\nThe question is accompanied by a rapid movement of the right hand. The\nsecond child in the ring inquires in the same manner of the third; and\nso all round. Then the same question is asked with a like gesture of\nthe left hand, and, after this has gone round, with both hands, left\nfoot, right foot, both feet, and finally by uniting all the motions at\nonce. \"A nice long game,\" as our little informant said.\n\n _New York, Philadelphia, etc._\n\n\nNo. 67.\n\n_Darby Jig._\n\nThis absurd little rhyme was formerly used to accompany an animated\ndance, in which the arms were placed behind the waist, and the hands\nrested on the hips, with alternate motion.\n\n Darby, darby, jig, jig, jig,\n I've been to bed with a big, big wig!\n I went to France to learn to dance--\n Darby, darby, jig, jig, jig!\n\n _Philadelphia; Massachusetts_.\n\n\nNo. 68.\n\n_Right Elbow In._\n\n Put your right elbow in,\n Put your right elbow out,\n Shake yourselves a little,\n And turn yourselves about.\n\n Put your left elbow in,\n Put your left elbow out,\n Shake yourselves a little,\n And turn yourselves about.\n\nThen followed _right ear_ and _left ear_, _right foot_ and _left\nfoot_, etc. The words we give were in use some sixty years since,\nwhen the game was danced deliberately and decorously, as old fashion\nwas, with slow rhythmical motion. Now it has been turned into a romp,\nunder various names (in Boston, \"Ugly Mug\"). The English name is\n\"Hinkumbooby.\"\n\n\nNo. 69.\n\n_My Master Sent Me._\n\n \"My master sent me to you, sir.\"\n \"For what, sir?\"\n \"To do with one as I do, sir.\"\n\nThe person who gives orders beats time with one foot, then both feet,\none hand and both feet, two hands and both feet, etc. The game, like\nthe preceding, is performed with a dancing motion.\n\n _New York._\n\n\nNo. 70.\n\n_Humpty Dumpty._\n\nThis game is for girls only. All present sit in a circle, then each\ngirl gathers her skirts tightly, so as to enclose her feet. The leader\nbegins some rhyme; all join in, and at a word previously agreed on,\nkeeping the skirt tightly grasped, throw themselves over backward. The\nobject now is to recover the former position without letting go the\nskirt.\n\n _New York._\n\n\nNo. 71.\n\n_Pease Porridge Hot._\n\nThis familiar little rhyme is accompanied by two players with alternate\nstriking of the hands together and against the knees, in a way easier\nto practise than to describe. School-girls often use it to warm their\nhands on cold winter mornings.\n\n Pease porridge hot,\n Pease porridge cold,\n Pease porridge in the pot,\n Nine days old.\n\n\nNo. 72.\n\n_Rhymes for a Race._\n\n Up the street, down the street,\n Here's the way we go.\n Forty horses standing in a row;\n [Dolly] on the white one,\n [Harry] on the black one,\n Riding to Harrisburg _five_ miles away.\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\nWe suppose the above formula to be a rhyme for starting in a race. The\ncommon schoolboy verse--\n\n One to make ready,\n Two to prepare,\n Three to _go slambang_,\n Right--down--there,\n\nappears to be a parody of the older English rhyme,\n\n One to make ready,\n And two to prepare,\n Good luck to the rider,\n And away goes the mare.\n\n\nNo. 73.\n\n_Twine the Garland._\n\nWe find mentioned in the \"Girls' Own Book,\" Boston, 1856, a dance of\ngirls which has the characteristics of an old game. Girls take hold of\nhands, one standing still; the rest twist about her until they form\na knot. They then untwist in the same manner, singing, \"Twine the\ngarland, girls!\" and, \"Untwine the garland, girls!\"\n\n\nNo. 74.\n\n_Hopping-dance._\n\nThis name was formerly given in New England to a dance similar to\nthat known in Scotland as _Curcuddie_. The hands were clasped under\nthe knees, and the children slowly and solemnly described squares and\ntriangles on the floor.\n\nWe may add here an unnamed amusement for school-girls, which consists\nin joining hands behind the back (giving the right hand to the left\nhand of a partner), and then turning, while retaining the hold, so as\nto stand facing each other. This movement is then repeated until the\ncouple whirl about with considerable rapidity.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\n_MIRTH AND JEST._\n\n --fulle stuffed a male\n Of disportes and newe pleyes.\n\n _Chaucer's Dreme._\n\n\nNo. 75.\n\n+_Club Fist._+\n\nA child lays on a table his clenched fist, with the thumb elevated;\nanother grasps the raised thumb with his own fist, and so on until a\npile of fists is built up. A player, who remains apart from the group,\nthen addresses the child whose hand is at the top:\n\n \"What's that?\"\n \"A pear.\"\n \"Take it off or I'll knock it off.\"\n\nThe same conversation is repeated with the next child, and so on; the\nfist being withdrawn as speedily as possible, to escape a rap from the\nquestioner. When only one is left, the following dialogue ensues:\n\n \"What have you got there?\"\n \"Bread and cheese.\"\n \"Where's my share?\"\n \"Cat's got it.\"\n \"Where's the cat?\"\n \"In the woods.\"\n \"Where's the woods?\"\n \"Fire burned it.\"\n \"Where's the fire?\"\n \"Water quenched it.\"\n \"Where's the water?\"\n \"Ox drank it.\"\n \"Where's the ox?\"\n \"Butcher killed it.\"\n \"Where's the butcher?\"\n \"Rope hung him.\"\n \"Where's the rope?\"\n \"Rat gnawed it.\"\n \"Where's the rat?\"\n \"Cat caught it.\"\n \"Where's the cat?\"\n \"Behind the church-door. The first who laughs, or grins, or shows the\n teeth has three pinches and three knocks.\"\n\nThen follows a general scattering; for some child is sure to laugh, and\nif he does not do so of his own accord, his neighbors will certainly\ntweak him, poke him, or otherwise excite his risibility.\n\n _Georgia._\n\nIn Pennsylvania the conversation ends:\n\n \"Where's the butcher?\"\n \"He's behind the door cracking nuts, and whoever speaks first\n I'll slap his fingers,\n Because I am the keeper of the keys,\n And I do whatever I please.\"\n\nThis dialogue, based on a well-known nursery tale, has maintained\nitself with remarkable persistence, and even verbal identity, in\nseveral European languages. We meet it in Germany and Denmark, as well\nas England.\n\n\nNo. 76.\n\n_Robin's Alive._\n\nThis celebrated game was formerly much played in New England during the\nwinter evenings. A stick was lighted, and passed from hand to hand. It\nwas an object to transfer it as quickly as possible; but each player,\nbefore handing it to his neighbor, must repeat the rhyme--\n\n The bird is alive, and alive like to be,\n If it dies in my hand you may back-saddle me.\n\nOr else, \"Robin's alive,\" etc.\n\nThe \"back-saddling\" consisted in depositing the person, in whose hand\nthe light went out, upon the back on the floor, and afterwards piling\nupon him (or her) chairs and other furniture.\n\nAnother formula is given in the \"Girls' Own Book:\"\n\n\"Robin's alive, and alive he shall be; if he dies in my hand, my mouth\nshall be bridled, my back shall be saddled, and I be sent home to the\nking's Whitehall.\"\n\nWhen the light expired it was said: \"Robin is dead, and dead he shall\nbe; he has died in your hand, and your mouth shall be bridled, your\nback shall be saddled, to send you home to the king's Whitehall.\"\n\nThis game is played all over Europe with similar formulas; but we are\nnot aware that the \"back-saddling\" feature has been practised out\nof England and America. The person in whose possession the light is\nextinguished usually pays forfeit.\n\nIt has been suggested, with plausibility, that the sport is connected\nwith an ancient rite: namely, the races of torch-bearers, which formed\npart of certain festal ceremonies, and in which the courier in whose\nhands the torch went out was a loser. Such contests are repeatedly\nalluded to by classic writers; but their exact conduct is involved in\nsome obscurity. In such a race, at Athens, the torch was kindled on the\naltar of Prometheus, and handed to the runner, whose duty it was to\npass it, while still alight, to a second, and so on. This ceremony has\nsuggested a celebrated line to Lucretius, who compares the flying ages\nto \"runners who pass from one to another the torch of life.\"\n\n\nNo. 77.\n\n_Laughter Games._\n\nThere is a whole class of games of which the object is to excite to\nlaughter by means of some ridiculous action.\n\nSuch games are sometimes played with a lighted candle. The players\napproach each other from opposite sides of the room, and sustain a\ndialogue in solemn tones, while they must keep a grave countenance on\npenalty of paying forfeit. For example:\n\n\"The king of Turkey is dead.\" \"What did he die of?\" \"Doing so\" (some\nridiculous gesture).\n\nA more characteristic version (in Nantucket, Mass.) had it: \"The royal\nRussian princess, Husty Fusty, is defunct.\" To which it was necessary\nto answer soberly--\"I'm very sorry to hear it; even the cats bewail her\nloss.\"\n\nA game which was formerly popular with children in Massachusetts was to\nlean a staff in the corner, while a player was seated in the centre of\nthe ring. Another child now entered, took up the staff, approached and\naddressed the one sitting, and a rhymed dialogue ensued:\n\n \"My father sent me here with a staff,\n To speak to you, and not to laugh.\"\n \"Methinks you smile.\" \"Methinks I don't.\n I smooth my face with ease and grace,\n And set my staff in its proper place.\"\n\nIf the staff-bearer laughed, he or she must take the chair; otherwise\nthe next player continued the game.\n\nA third amusement is for girls to excite one another to laugh by gently\npinching in succession the ears, nose, lips, etc., while making use of\nsome ridiculous expression.\n\nThis usage is alluded to more than three centuries ago by Rabelais.\n\nIn a Swiss game, this performance is complicated by a jest. Each child\npinches his neighbor's ear; but by agreement the players blacken their\nfingers, keeping two of the party in ignorance. Each of the two victims\nimagines it to be the other who is the object of the uproarious mirth\nof the company.\n\n\nNo. 78.\n\n_Bachelor's Kitchen._\n\nThe children sit in a row, with the exception of one, who goes in\nsuccession to each child, and asks him what he will give to the\nbachelor's kitchen. Each answers what he pleases, as a saucepan, a\nmousetrap, etc. When all have replied, the questioner returns to the\nfirst child, and puts all sorts of questions, which must be answered by\nthe article which he before gave to the kitchen, and by no other word.\nFor instance, he asks, \"What do you wear on your head?\" \"Mousetrap.\"\nThe object is to make the answerer laugh, and he is asked a number of\nquestions, until he either laughs or is given up as a hard subject. The\nquestioner then passes to the next child, and so on through the whole\nrow. Those who laugh, or add any other word to their answer, must pay\na forfeit, which is redeemed in the same way as in other games.\n\n _Cambridge, Mass._\n\n\nNo. 79.\n\n_The Church and the Steeple._\n\nLittle girls, with appropriate motions of the closed fist, or of the\ninverted hand with raised fingers, say,\n\n Here is the church,\n Here is the steeple,\n Here is the parson,\n And all the people.\n\nAn Italian finger-game well exhibits the different mental state of\nchildren in the two countries. The words are: \"This is the Inferno,\nand this the Paradiso.\" The fingers of the two hands, crossed within,\nrepresent the disturbed world of wretchedness; the back of the hands,\nturned, where all is calm, typify Paradise.\n\n\nNo. 80.\n\n_What Color?_\n\nA tumbler of water and a thimble are required. One child is sent out\nof the room, and to each of the others a different color is allotted.\nThe first is then expected to name the color of some child. If she\nsucceeds in her guess, a thimbleful of water is thrown in her face. The\nguessing is continued till this takes place, when the thrower becomes\nthe guesser for the next turn.\n\n _Cincinnati._\n\n\nNo. 81.\n\n_Beetle and Wedge._\n\nThere are games in which the guesser has only _Scogan's choice_[91]\nbetween two sorts of disaster.\n\nThus, a party of boys pitch on two who are unacquainted with the game,\nand ask them if they would not like to play \"Beetle and Wedge.\" \"The\nfun is to be the Beetle and the Wedge,\" they explain. The victims\nconsenting, the Beetle is then driven against the Wedge, back to\nback, with a force that \"sends him flying.\" This amusement belongs to\nConnecticut.\n\nIn Philadelphia a boy is asked whether he prefers _mustard_ or\n_pepper_; in either case receiving corresponding personal inflictions.\nSo in the English game of \"Trades\" a boy is made to guess the trade of\nthe questioner, and is _hammered_, _planed_, or _rasped_, accordingly.\n\n\nNo. 82.\n\n_Present and Advise._\n\nAll the children, except two, are seated in a row. One of these\nwhispers in the ear of each child, \"I present you with this.\" The\nsecond, in like manner, adds, \"I advise you what to do with it.\"\n\nAnother old whispering-game, belonging, like the preceding, to New\nYork, is called \"Sentiment.\" Each child tells his neighbor on the right\nthe name of a person, and repeats to the one on the left a verse of\npoetry, usually of a sentimental character. The name and verse are then\nto be repeated together as in the former game.\n\n\nNo. 83.\n\n_Genteel Lady._\n\n\"I, genteel lady, always genteel, come from the genteel lady, always\ngenteel, beg leave to inform you that my ship has just come in from\nChina laden with apricots.\"\n\nThe next player has to repeat, adding some object beginning with _b_,\nsuch as biscuit; the next player one beginning with _c_, and so down\nthe alphabet. If any one hesitates, or makes a mistake, a lighted\n\"lamp-lighter\" (New England, _spill_) is stuck in her hair, and she is\nthe \"one-horned,\" instead of the \"genteel\" lady; and for two mistakes\nthe \"two-horned\" lady, and so on. This juxtaposition of curls and\n\"lamp-lighters\" is by no means always safe.\n\n _Georgia._\n\nOf this game we observe that, like several amusements familiar in this\nState, it is of French origin.[92]\n\n\nNo. 84.\n\n_Beast, Bird, or Fish._\n\nA member of the party throws to another a knotted handkerchief, saying\none of the above words, and counting up to ten. The catcher must answer\nin the given time the name of some animal of the kind required, not\nalready cited by some other player.\n\nWhoever fails to reply while the counting is going on, is out of the\ngame. After the names of commoner animals are exhausted, the game\nbecomes a test of quickness and memory.\n\n\nNo. 85.\n\n_Wheel of Fortune._\n\nA picture of a wheel is drawn upon the slate, and a number written\nbetween each of its spokes. The eyes being then closed, the child whose\nturn it is raises a pencil in the air, twirling it, and saying,\n\n Tit for tat,\n Butter for fat,\n If you kill my dog I'll kill your cat.\n\nAt the last word the pencil is brought down; if the point of the pencil\nfalls on a space, the number there written is scored; if on a line, or\noutside the circle, or on a number previously secured (and erased by\na line), the turn is forfeited. The game is continued until a certain\nnumber has been scored by the winning player.\n\n _Georgia._\n\n\nNo. 86.\n\n_Catches._\n\n \"I went up one pair of stairs.\"\n \"Just like me.\"\n \"There was a monkey.\"\n \"Just like me.\"\n \"I one'd it.\"\n \"I two'd it,\" etc.\n \"I ate [eight] it.\"\n\nThis (to children) exquisitely witty dialogue has its German\ncounterpart.--\"I went into the wood.\" \"So did I.\" \"I took an axe.\" \"So\ndid I.\" \"I made a trough.\" \"So did I.\" \"Seven pigs ate of it.\" \"So did\nI.\"[93]\n\nEqually well known is the jest, \"I am a gold lock,\" \"I am a gold key,\"\netc.--ending \"I am a monk-lock,\" \"I am a mon-key.\"\n\nWe may mention also a familiar catch, \"Say my cat, my cat, and not my\ndog.\" \"My dog\" must not be spoken.\n\nOf a different character are the following jests:\n\nThe lights being extinguished, a knife is passed round the circle of\nplayers, and the following conversation ensues, each phrase being\ncontinued from left to right of the ring:\n\n \"What's this?\"\n \"A dagger.\"\n \"Where did you get it?\"\n \"Stole it.\"\n \"What was done with it?\"\n\nAll of the company who understand the jest shriek aloud, which\naccomplishes the object of terrifying the rest.\n\nSomewhat similar (in New York) is the following:\n\n \"Neighbor, I've got a hatchet to sell.\"\n \"Did you buy it?\"\n \"No.\"\n \"Did you steal it?\"\n \"Sh--\"\n\nIn the following conversation, one sentence at a time is repeated in a\nwhisper to the left-hand neighbor, and so passed round the circle, the\nfun consisting in the imitation of crowing at the end.\n\n\"Hath she feathers?\" \"Feathers she hath.\" \"Doth she crow?\" \"Crow she\ndoth.\" \"How doth she crow?\" (An imitation of crowing follows.)\n\n\nNo. 87.\n\n_Intery Mintery._\n\nAn evening amusement formerly common in Massachusetts. All present\nlaid their hands with fingers resting on the knees. The speaker then\ntold off the words of the rhyme, one for each finger. The rhyme being\nthus recited, that finger to which the last syllable fell must be\nquickly withdrawn, on penalty of being sharply rapped by the hand of\nthe leader. After all had been counted out but one person, he or she\nwas liable to the same risk for every word of the rhyme--the result of\nwhich situation is alluded to by the epithet \"black finger.\"\n\n Intery mintery cutery corn,\n Apple-seed and apple-thorn,\n Wire, briar, limber lock,\n Twelve geese in a flock;\n Sit and sing by a spring,\n O-u-t spells out, and in again.\n Over yonder steep hills,\n Where my father he dwells,\n He has jewels, he has rings,\n And very many pretty things.\n Strike Jack, lick Tom,\n Blow the bellows,\n Black finger--out-of-the-game.\n\n\nNo. 88.\n\n_Redeeming Forfeits._\n\nThe girl who is to assign the penalty by which the forfeit must be\nredeemed lays her head on the lap of another who sits on a chair, while\na third, standing behind, holds the article over her head and asks:\n\n \"Here is a forfeit, a very fine forfeit; what shall be done to\n redeem it?\"\n \"Is it fine or superfine?\" (_i.e._, does it belong to a gentleman\n or to a lady).\n\nThe sentence is then declared.\n\nAnother formula, used in the Middle and Southern States, is:\n\n \"Heavy, heavy, what hangs over you?\"\n\nThe German usage is nearly the same, the question being \"Lord judge,\nwhat is your sentence, what shall he do whose pledge I have in my hand?\"\n\nThe following are examples of old penalties, which usually involved\nkissing, with infinite variety of method:\n\n _To go to Rome._ To kiss every girl in the room.\n\n _Flat-irons._ The lad and lass lay their hands on the wall and\n kiss.\n\n _Measuring yards of tape, and cutting it off._ To kiss with the\n arms extended.\n\n \"_I'm in the well._\" \"How many fathoms deep?\" (Any number is\n answered.)\n\n \"Whom will you have to take you out?\" (Some one of the company is\n named.) Each fathom represents a kiss.\n\n\nNo. 89.\n\n_Old Mother Tipsy-toe._\n\nThis is a very popular game with girls in various parts of the United\nStates.\n\nThe children sit in a row, with the exception of the mother, who comes\nup and asks each child in turn, \"How did you tear your dress?\" After\nhearing their various excuses, she again traverses the row, indicating\nthe part of the dress to be mended, and saying:\n\n I give you so much work to do,\n Use thimble, thread, and needle too;\n If you don't get it done before I come back,\n I'll give you a slap across your back.\n\nShe slaps her children on the shoulder and goes out, forbidding them\nto follow her. As soon as her back is turned, they all jump up and run\nafter her, shouting, \"Old mother Tipsy-toe,\"[94] or, as in a variation\nfrom New York:\n\n Old mother Tippety-toe, old mother Tippety-toe,\n I'll follow my mother wherever she go.\n\nThe mother now goes into a shop, and orders various articles, the\nchildren repeating after her whatever she says. For instance, the\nmother says, \"I want two pounds of butter.\" \"I want two pounds of\nbutter,\" shout the children in chorus. Finally she says, \"And I want\na stick to whip my children with,\" upon which she turns to leave the\nshop, while the children rush before her, and scramble back to their\nseats before their mother comes home. The latter then goes to each\nchild in turn, saying, \"Let me see how well you have mended your\ndress.\" The children all hold the hem of their dresses as firmly as\nthey can, with their hands somewhat apart. The mother strikes with her\nhand the part of the dress that is between their hands; and if they let\nit go, she scolds and beats them for their bad mending.\n\n _Cambridge, Mass._\n\nIn another way of playing, which makes the game one of chase, \"Old\nmammy Tipsy-toe\" addresses her children:\n\n I give you this much work to do,\n Use thread and needle, thimble too;\n If you don't have it done\n By the time that I come home,\n You'll be beaten black and blue\n With my old shoe.\n\nShe then makes preparations to depart:\n\n I'm going to Lady Washington's,\n To get a cup of tea,\n And five loaves of gingerbread,\n So don't you follow me.\n\nThe children, of course, pursue her with shouts of defiance, upon which\nshe turns and chases them, while they rush to their places. She comes\nback, and demands of the children:\n\n\"Have you been out to-day?\" \"No.\" \"You have. Where have you been?\" \"To\ngrandmother's.\" \"What did you get?\" \"A slice of cake.\" \"Where is my\nshare?\" \"In the band-box.\" \"But I might break my neck getting it.\" \"I\nwish you would.\" On this, she chases the children, who fly and scatter.\nAny child she catches is out of the game, which is continued until all\nare captured.\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\n\nNo. 90.\n\n_Who Stole the Cardinal's Hat?_\n\nThe children being seated in a circle, a child, who does not take part\nin the game, whispers to each of the rest a name representing some\ncolor, as \"Red-cap,\" \"Blue-cap,\" \"Yellow-cap,\" etc. Two players are\nexcepted, one of whom is called \"My man John,\" and one represents the\ncardinal. The latter now leaves the room, first placing in the hands of\n\"John\" a little billet of wood, bidding him take care of the Cardinal's\nhat, which at the same time he declares to be of some particular color,\nas green. \"John\" conceals this somewhere in the room. The child who\nwent out then enters, armed with a cane, and demands the Cardinal's\nhat. \"John\" affects to have forgotten all about it, and asks, \"What\ncolor was it? green?\" and so on until he guesses the color. Being thus\nreminded, he declares that some one of the group, as, for example,\n\"Red-cap,\" has stolen it. \"Red-cap\" is now asked by the questioner,\n\"Red-cap, did you steal the Cardinal's hat?\" He also must pass on the\ncharge, saying, \"No, it was White-cap\" (or any other color). If he\nomits to do so, or names a color not included among the players, he\nmust pay forfeit. Meanwhile the questioner becomes indignant at the\nnumerous denials, and proceeds to extort confession by torture, rapping\nwith his cane the fingers of those whom he addresses. If he succeeds\nin obliging any child to confess, the latter must pay forfeit. At last\n\"My man John\" owns the theft, produces the hat, and the game is begun\nagain, until a sufficient number of forfeits have been collected.\n\n _Saratoga, New York._\n\nThis game is also played in Switzerland. The name of a color having\nbeen given to each child, a ball is stealthily passed about the circle.\nThe \"Abbot of St. Gall\" enters, and exclaims, \"The Abbot of St. Gall\nhas lost his night-cap; they say White stole it.\" The player whose\ncolor is named, if he has the ball, must pass it behind his back to\nanother, saying, \"Not White, Red has it.\" Whoever is caught in passing\nthe ball, or names a color not in the game, or fails to answer when his\nname is called, must pay forfeit, or have his face marked with burned\ncork. It will be seen that the Swiss game corresponds to the American,\nexcept that in the latter the ball is concealed instead of being passed\nround; but we think it likely that the memory of our informant (a\nchild) may have been at fault in this respect.\n\nThe _Gentleman's Magazine_, February, 1738, mentions a game called \"The\nParson hath lost his Fuddling Cap.\" _The Spectator_, No. 268, also\nrefers to this sport: \"I desire to know in your next if the merry game\nof 'The Parson has lost his Cloak,' is not mightily in vogue amongst\nthe fine ladies this Christmas, because I see they wear hoods of all\ncolours, which I suppose is for that purpose.\" From this last extract\nit appears that the names \"Red-cap,\" etc., are a reminiscence of the\nvariously colored hoods once employed in the game.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[91] _Scogan's choice_ is equivalent to _Hobson's choice_; both are\nheroes of old jest-books.\n\n[92] The game is called \"Le Chevalier Gentil,\" and proceeds thus: \"Bon\njour, chevalier gentil, toujours gentil; moi chevalier gentil, toujours\ngentil, je viens de la part du chevalier gentil, toujours gentil (so\ndesignating the left-hand neighbor) vous dire qu'il y a un aigle \u00e0 bec\nd'or, \u00e0 pattes d'argent,\" etc. A player who misses receives \"un petit\ncornet de papier,\" and is known as \"chevalier cornu, biscornu,\" etc.,\nor \"damoiselle cornette \u00e0 tant de cornes.\"\n\n[93] A French catch: \"J'ai mont\u00e9 un escalier.\" \"Comme moi.\" \"Je suis\nentr\u00e9 dans la chambre.\" \"Comme moi.\" \"J'ai vu une petite bo\u00eete.\" \"Comme\nmoi.\" \"Je l'ai ouverte.\" \"Comme moi.\" \"Il y avait une grosse b\u00eate.\"\n\"Comme moi.\"\n\n[94] Or, as played by the children from whom this version was obtained,\n_Old mother Cripsy-crops_. The name \"Tipsy-toe\" is derived from the\nlimping gait supposed to belong to witches. See No. 154, C.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\n_GUESSING-GAMES._\n\n\n\"As boys, when they play at 'how many,' hold out their hands in such\na way that, having few, they pretend to have many, and having many,\nthey make believe to have few.\"--XENOPHON, _Treatise on the Duties of a\nCavalry Officer_.\n\nNo. 91.\n\n_Odd or Even._\n\nA small number of beans or other counters are held in the hand, and the\nquestion is, Odd or Even? If the guess is even, and the true number\nodd, it is said \"Give me one to make it odd,\" and _vice vers\u00e2_. The\ngame is continued until all the counters belong to one or other of the\ntwo players.\n\nThis amusement was familiar in ancient Greece and Rome, as it is in\nmodern Europe. In the classic game the player gained or lost as many as\nhe held in his hand.\n\n\nNo. 92.\n\n_Hul Gul._\n\nThis game is played by three, four, or more, who stand in a circle. A\nchild then addresses his left-hand neighbor, and the dialogue is:\n\n \"Hul Gul.\"\n \"Hands full.\"\n \"Parcel how many?\"\n\nThe second player then guesses the number, two guesses being sometimes\nallowed. If, for example, the guess is five, and the real number seven,\nthe first responds, \"Give me two to make it seven,\" and so on until\nall the counters have been gained by one player. The number allowed to\nbe taken is often limited, by agreement, to six or ten.\n\nThe counters are beans, grains of corn, marbles, nuts, and, in the\nSouth, _chinquapins_.[95]\n\nA childish trick is to expand the hand as if unable to hold the number\nof counters, when in fact they are but one or two. Oddly enough, this\nsame device is alluded to by Xenophon as in use in his day in the\ngame of \"How many?\"--the classic equivalent of our game, in which the\nquestion was, \"How many have I in the hand?\" just as we say, \"Parcel\nhow many?\" So, in these sports, the interval of two thousand years\nvanishes.\n\n\nNo. 93.\n\n_How many Fingers?_\n\nA child hides his head on another's lap, and guesses the number of\nfingers raised. We find a rhyme for this given in the \"Girls' Own Book.\"\n\n \"Mingledy, mingledy, clap, clap, clap,\n How many fingers do I hold up?\"\n \"Three.\"\n \"Three you said, and two it was,\" etc.\n\nAnother form of this game consists in schoolboys mounting on each\nother's back and raising fingers, of which the number is to be guessed.\nThe English formula for this purpose is given by Tylor thus, \"Buck,\nbuck, how many horns do I hold up?\" We are not aware that the practice\ncontinues to exist in this country.\n\nIn the famous finger-game of \"Morra,\" the sum of the fingers raised\nby the two players is counted. The game is played with such rapidity,\nand the calling is so rapid, that conjecture plays a larger part in\nthe game than eyesight. \"Morra\" has been a favorite for nearly four\nthousand years, for it is represented on early Egyptian monuments,\nwhere the players are depicted as using the right hand, and scoring\nwith the left, very much as is done in the south of Europe at the\npresent day.\n\nIt is very likely, however, that the nursery usage we are now concerned\nwith is as old. Petronius Arbiter, in the time of Nero, describes\nTrimalchio as so playing with a boy. The latter, mounting as on\nhorseback, smote his shoulders with the open hand, and laughing said,\n\"Bucca, bucca, how many?\"[96]\n\nWe will not undertake to decide whether the reported coincidence of the\nLatin and English formulas is a genuine example of transmission. The\ngame, however, and the question, \"How many?\" have certainly endured for\ntwo thousand years, and very likely existed as long before the days of\nPetronius, or from a time as remote as that to which can be traced the\nmore complicated game of \"Morra.\"\n\n\nNo. 94.\n\n_Right or Left._\n\nA common way of deciding a dispute, selecting players, or determining\nwho shall begin a game, is to take a pebble or other object in the\nclosed fist, and make a comrade guess in which hand it is contained.\n\nThe old-fashioned way of holding the hands, both in England and\nGermany, was to place one fist on top of the other; and a like usage\nformerly prevailed in New England, though we have not met with the\nEnglish rhyme:\n\n Handy-dandy riddledy ro,\n Which will you have, high or low?\n\n\nNo. 95.\n\n_Under which Finger?_\n\nA child takes a bean in the hand, closes it, and asks a companion to\nguess under which finger it lies; if the latter fails, he must pay a\nbean.\n\n\nNo. 96.\n\n_Comes, it Comes._\n\nA simple guessing-game, familiar to children in New England. One\nchild of the party says to another, \"It comes, it comes.\" The player\naddressed replies, \"What do you come by?\" The first replies by naming\nthe initial letter of some object in the room; if, for instance, it is\nthe table he has in mind, he says, \"I come by T.\" The rest must now\nguess what thing, beginning with this letter, is meant.\n\n\nNo. 97.\n\n_Hold Fast My Gold Ring._\n\nThe children sit in a circle, with hands closed; one takes the ring,\nand goes around with it, tapping the closed fists of the players as if\ninserting the ring, and saying:\n\n Biddy, biddy, hold fast my gold ring,\n Till I go to London, and come back again.\n\nEach child, in turn, is then required to guess who has the ring, and,\nif successful, takes the leader's place; if unsuccessful, he pays\nforfeit.\n\n _Georgia._\n\nThis is known in Massachusetts as,\n\n Button, button, who's got the button?\n\nAnother form of the question is, \"Fox, fox, who's got the box?\"\n\nIn England the game goes,\n\n My lady's lost her diamond ring,\n I pitch on you to find it.\n\n\nNo. 98.\n\n_My Lady Queen Anne._\n\nA ball is concealed with some one of the children who form the circle.\nA girl is placed in the centre, and a dialogue ensues; the ring singing:\n\n \"My lady Queen Anne,\n She sits in the sun,\n As fair as a lily,\n As brown as a bun.\n The king sends you three letters, and bids you read one.\"\n\nThe girl answers:\n\n \"I cannot read one unless I read all,\n So pray, Mr. [or Miss] ----, deliver the ball.\"\n\nIf the person named has the ball, he or she takes her place; if not,\nshe continues as before. In England, a rhyme is given for the latter\ncase:\n\n \"The ball is mine, and none of thine,\n So you, proud queen, may sit on your throne,\n While we, your messengers, go and come.\"\n\n\nNo. 99.\n\n_The Wandering Dollar._\n\nA coin is passed about the circle, and the central player is to guess\nwho has it. The dollar is held in the palm, then passed about the\nring by each player alternately clapping his hands together, and then\nextending his arms so as to touch the hands of his neighbor. For this\npurpose the right hand should be held downward, and the left turned\nupward, as the arms are extended. The coin is to be _palmed_ from hand\nto hand, and the rhythmical motions being accompanied with song (to\nalmost any tune) make a very pretty game, but one which requires much\npractice to master. The verse sung is,\n\n Dollar, dollar, how you wander,\n From the one unto the other!\n Is it fair, is it fair,\n To leave Miss [Anna] so long without a chair?\n\n _Cincinnati._\n\nThe game is a modern translation from the German, presumably by the\nchildren themselves.\n\n\nNo. 100.\n\n_Thimble in Sight._\n\nAmong games of search may be mentioned the present, in which, the\ngreater part of the company being sent out of the room, a thimble must\nbe placed so as to escape notice, and yet in such a position as to be\nvisible when the attention is once directed to it. As each of the party\ndiscovers the thimble, he indicates his success by saying \"Rorum torum\ncorum,\" or some such formula, and then takes his seat.\n\nIn other games, in which some small object is hidden, there are various\nways of assisting the seeker when at fault; thus, it is said you\n_freeze_, you are _cold_, you are _warm_, you _burn_, according as the\nobject is approached; or the search is directed by _magical music_,\nwhich grows louder as the person comes nearer to his object. These\nusages belong also to other countries. More original is a practice,\ncommon in Massachusetts, according to which the height of the concealed\nobject above the floor of the room is indicated by the words \"So high\nwater,\" addressed by one of the company to the person who has been sent\nout, as he enters and begins his search.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[95] \"Chinquapin (_Castanea primula_), an ovoid, pointed, sweet nut,\nhalf the size of a common chestnut.\"\n\n[96] \"Bucca, bucca, quot sunt hic?\"\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\n_GAMES OF CHASE_.\n\n\n The spring clade all in gladness\n Doth laugh at winter's sadness,\n And to the bag-pipes round,\n The maids tread out their ground.\n\n Fy, then, why are we musing,\n Youth's sweet delight refusing?\n Say, dainty nymph, and speak,\n Shall we play Barley Break?\n\n _Old Song._\n\n\nNo. 101.\n\n_How many Miles to Babylon?_\n\nA party of young people stand at each end of a space, such as a\nportico, a field, etc., and a single player is stationed in the middle.\nThe former address the latter:\n\n \"Marlow, marlow, marlow bright,\n How many miles to Babylon?\"\n \"Threescore and ten.\"\n \"Can I get there by candlelight?\"\n \"Yes, if your legs are as long as light,\n But take care of the old gray witch by the road-side.\"\n\nThe players at the ends of the field then run from side to side, and\nmust be caught by the central player, whom they then assist to catch\nthe rest.\n\n _Georgia._\n\nThis sport, which has been universally familiar in America, is a form\nof the old English game of \"Barley Break,\" and probably the \"marlow\nbright\" of our version is a corruption of that name.\n\nThe Scotch variety given by Chambers has a very chivalric turn, which\nmay give an idea of the song which must have accompanied the game in\nthe time of Queen Elizabeth:\n\n \"King and queen of Cantelon,\n How many miles to Babylon?\"\n \"Eight and eight, and other eight.\"\n \"Will I get there by candlelight?\"\n \"If your horse be good and your spurs be bright.\"\n \"How many men have ye?\"\n \"Mae nor ye daur come and see.\"\n\nThe poets of the Elizabethan age fully describe the game of \"Barley\nBreak,\" and seem to think it the most delightful of youthful\namusements. They represent Diana and her nymphs as amusing themselves\nwith this sport.\n\nIt appears from Sidney's description that the game was played by three\ncouples, each of a youth and a maid, one couple standing at each end\nof the area, and the third remaining in the centre. The mating was\ndetermined by lot, and the last pair mated were obliged to take the\ncentral position, and saluted each other by a kiss. This pair were\nrequired to pursue with joined hands, while the others were at liberty\nto separate. Any maid caught replaced the maid, and any youth the\nyouth, of the central couple. Notwithstanding the courtly nature of\nthe sport, that its fundamental idea is the same as that of our game\nappears by the name of the central space, as Sidney gives it in the\n\"Arcadia:\"\n\n Then couples three be streight allotted there,\n They of both ends the middle two do flie,\n The two that in mid-place Hell called were,\n Must strive with waiting foot and watching eye\n To catch of them, and them to Hell to bear,\n That they, as well as they, Hell may supplie.\n\nA New England variation introduces blindfolding, thus adapting the game\nto a chamber. Two children are made to kneel on stools, their eyes\nbandaged, and the rest must run between. The dialogue is:\n\n \"How many miles to Barbary-cross?\"\n \"Fourscore.\"\n \"Are there any bears in the way?\"\n \"Yes, a great many; take care they don't catch you!\"\n\n\nNo. 102.\n\n_Hawk and Chickens._\n\nA hen with her brood. A child represents the \"Old Buzzard,\" about whom\nthe rest circle. The hen addresses the latter:\n\n \"Chickany, chickany, crany, crow.\n Down in the gutter\n To get the hog's supper--\n What o'clock is it, old buzzard?\"\n\nThe Buzzard, meanwhile, is busied in building up a fire with sticks,\nand abruptly names any hour, when the question and answer are repeated\nfor each child of the ring, until twelve o'clock, thus--\n\n \"Half-past ten.\"\n \"What o'clock is it, old buzzard?\"\n \"Half-past eleven.\"\n \"What o'clock is it, old buzzard?\"\n \"Twelve o'clock.\"\n\nThe ring now halts, and the dialogue proceeds:\n\n \"Old buzzard, old buzzard, what are you doing?\"\n \"Picking up sticks.\"\n \"What do you want the sticks for?\"\n \"To build a fire.\"\n \"What are you building a fire for?\"\n \"To broil a chicken.\"\n \"Where are you going to get the chicken?\"\n \"Out of your flock.\"\n\nThe Buzzard gives chase and captures a child. He brings him back, lays\nhim down, and proceeds to dress him for dinner. All the rest stand\nround in admiring silence. The Buzzard asks,\n\n \"Will you be picked or scraped?\"\n\nAccording to the choice he proceeds as if picking the feathers of a\nbird or scaling a fish, and continues, with appropriate action,\n\n \"Will you be pickled or salted?\"\n \"Will you be roasted or stewed?\"\n\nHe drags the victim into one or another corner of the room, according\nto the reply, and the game proceeds as before.[97]\n\n _New England._\n\nIn the Southern States a witch takes the place of the bird of prey, and\nthe rhyme is,\n\n \"Chickamy, chickamy, crany, crow,\n I went to the well to wash my toe,\n And when I came back my chicken was gone;\n What o'clock, old witch?\"\n\nThe witch names any hour, and questions and answers are repeated as\nbefore, up to twelve:\n\n \"What are you doing, old witch?\"\n \"I am making a fire to cook a chicken.\"\n \"Where are you going to get it?\"\n \"Out of your coop.\"\n \"I've got the lock.\"\n \"I've got the key.\"\n \"Well, we'll see who will have it.\"\n\nThe witch tries to get past the hen, and seize the last of the line;\nthe mother, spreading out her arms, bars the passage. The witch cries,\n\n \"I must have a chick.\"\n \"You sha'n't have a chick.\"\n\nEach child caught drops out, and as the line grows shorter the struggle\nbecomes desperate.\n\n _Georgia._\n\nThis latter way of playing is the older form of the game, and is also\nfamiliar, though without words, in the North, where it is known as \"Fox\nand Chickens.\"\n\nThis game is one of the most widely diffused, and the dialogue is\nmarvellously identical, from Russia to Italy.\n\nIn Schleswig-Holstein the conversation runs thus:\n\n \"Hawk, what are you lighting?\"\n \"A fire.\"\n \"What is the fire for?\"\n \"To make ashes.\"\n \"What are the ashes for?\"\n \"To sharpen a knife.\"\n \"What is the knife for?\"\n \"To cut off chickens' heads.\"\n \"What have the chickens done?\"\n \"Gone into my master's corn.\"\n\nIn our own country, among the Pennsylvania Germans, or, to use their\nown agreeable idiom, \"De Pennsylfaunisch Deitsch,\" this game enjoys the\ndistinction of being almost the only child's game which is accompanied\nby words, and is played as follows:\n\nA boy who is digging in the earth is accosted by a second, who carries\na handful of sticks, the longest of which represents the needle:\n\n \"Woy, woy, was grawbst?\"\n \"Meine Moder hat erne silberne Nodel verloren.\"\n \"Is sie des?\"\n \"Ne.\"\n \"Is sie des?\"\n \"Ne.\"\n \"Is sie des?\"\n \"Yaw.\"[98]\n\nThe stooping child now rises and pursues the rest.\n\nA similar dialogue is used for a game of chase in New York:\n\n \"Old mother, what are you looking for?\"\n \"A needle.\"\n \"What do you want a needle for?\"\n \"To sew my bag with.\"\n \"What do you want your bag for?\"\n \"To keep my steel in.\"\n \"What do you want your steel for?\"\n \"To sharpen my knife to cut off your head.\"\n\nIn the same spirit, the Venetian game has:\n\n \"Sister, what are you looking for?\"\n \"A knife to kill you with.\"\n\nWhereupon she pursues the questioners. In this version we find also\nthe inquiry about the hour, the putting of the pot on the fire, the\nsearching for the knife, and final scattering.\n\nThe Finns on the Baltic coast, too, have the game in the form of a long\nsong, beginning,\n\n Close together! see the hawk yon!\n Close together! see his talons?\n\nWhich exactly corresponds to the Scotch,\n\n Keep in, keep in, wherever ye be--\n The greedy gled is seeking ye!\n\n\nNo. 103.\n\n_Tag._\n\nIn this game a child, usually selected by \"counting out,\" pursues\nhis comrades till he has caught one who must replace him. There is\ngenerally some asylum of refuge, where the pursued are safe.\n\nThe original form of this game seems to have been \"Iron Tag,\" or \"Tag\non Iron,\" once universal in the United States, and still here and there\nplayed. In Germany and Italy, also, this is the usual form of the\nsport. In this game the pursued party is safe whenever touching iron\nin any shape, as the ring of a post, horse-shoe, etc.[99] A writer in\nthe _Gentleman's Magazine_, February, 1738, speaking of this amusement,\nsays that \"the lad saves himself by the touching of cold iron,\" and\nthat \"in later times this play has been altered amongst children of\nquality, by touching of gold instead of iron.\" In like manner, owing\nto the occasional scarcity of iron objects, _wood-tag_ and _stone-tag_\nhave been varieties of the sport in America.\n\nThis form of the game exhibits its original meaning. As in several\nother games of chase, the pursuer represents an evil spirit, from whose\nattack, according to ancient superstition, iron was a protection. Hence\nthe challenge, in Silesia and Switzerland, is, \"Father, I have no iron,\nhit me.\"[100] The chaser, it seems, was conceived as the aged but\npowerful dwarf, of malignant character. Thus we get a vivid idea of\nthe extent to which such representations once affected the lives even\nof children, and see that an amusement which is now a mere pleasurable\nmuscular exercise followed the direction imposed by belief.\n\nThere are numerous varieties of this game. In _cross-tag_, the pursuer\nmust follow whoever comes between him and the pursued. In _squat-tag_,\nthe fugitive is safe while in that position, or is allowed a given\nnumber of \"squats,\" during which he cannot be touched. A peculiar\nvariety (in Philadelphia) is \"Tag, tag, tell a body.\" In this game\nevery child is forbidden to tell who is \"it,\" on penalty of replacing\nhim. Sometimes the name of the pursuer is kept secret until revealed\nby his actions, or the child who has been tagged deceives the rest by\nkeeping up his speed. On the other hand, the catcher is sometimes bound\nto turn his cap inside out, whence the game is called _turn-cap_.\n\n\"Pickadill\" is a kind of tag played in Massachusetts during the winter.\nA large circle is made in the snow, with quartering paths; if there are\nmany players, two circles are made. There is one tagger, and the centre\nis the place of safety.\n\n\"London Loo\" is a particular species of the game (in Philadelphia) in\nwhich the following: formula is used:\n\n \"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10--London!\"\n \"Loo!\"\n \"I'll try to catch one of you.\"\n\n\nNo. 104.\n\n_Den._\n\nThis is an out-of-doors game. Each boy represents a wild beast, and\nhas a separate tree, which represents his \"den.\" Any player who leaves\nhis den is liable to be tagged by any who has started out at a later\nmoment. The best runner usually ventures first, a second pursues him,\nand so on, until all may be out at once. If a player can tag any one\nwhom he has a right to capture, he takes him home to his own den, and\nthe latter must help him to take the rest. The pursuer cannot be tagged\nwhile bringing home his prisoner.\n\n _Cambridge, Mass._\n\n\nNo. 105.\n\n_I Spy._[101]\n\nThis game is world-old and world-wide. To judge by the description of\nPollux (in the second century), it was then played exactly as American\nchildren play it to-day. \"One of the party places himself in the middle\nof his comrades, and closes his eyes, unless some other covers them for\nhim. The players run away and scatter. Then the pursuer opens his eyes\nand proceeds to look for them. It is each player's object to reach that\none's[102] ground before him.\"\n\nAn ancient painting represents this game. Cupids are playing together.\nOne of these, with his face turned away, has his hands before his\neyes, and appears to be counting. Another is running to a place of\nconcealment, while a third peeps from behind the door.\n\nChildren, with us, usually count a hundred before beginning the search;\nbut there is an abbreviated method, not accounted fair--\n\n Ten, ten, and double ten,\n Forty-five and fifteen.\n\nThe \"home\" is usually a tree. When the seeker catches sight of any\nof the players, he (or she) runs to the tree, and touches it thrice,\nsaying, \"One, two, three, for----\" (naming the child). On the other\nhand, if the latter can reach the tree first, he touches it, saying,\n\"One, two, three, for myself.\"[103]\n\nIn a variety of the game, a stick is set up against a tree. One of\nthe players seizes it, and throws it as far as possible. The children\nhide, while the one who happens to be \"it\" gets and replaces the stick,\nafter which he proceeds to look for the rest. Those whom he discovers\nhe captures as above described, until all are taken. If any of the\nhiders can reach the tree and throw down the stick, all prisoners are\nreleased, and the seeker must begin over again. A similar game, in New\nYork, is called \"Yards off.\"\n\n\"Hide and Seek\" differs only in this, that there is no home to be\ntouched, but the game is ended when the concealment is discovered. When\nthe players are hidden they announce it by \"whooping.\"\n\n\nNo. 106.\n\n_Sheep and Wolf._\n\nThis is a very ancient hiding-game. A wolf is chosen by \"counting out\"\nor otherwise, who conceals himself, and then indicates that he is ready\nby howling.\n\nThe rest of the party, who are supposed to be sheep, walk round the\ncorner in a casual way, until one calls out, \"I spy a wolf,\" whereupon\nall immediately take to their heels. Whoever is caught by the wolf\nbefore reaching home must take his place for the next turn. This game\nis nearly identical in most European countries.\n\n _New York._\n\n\nNo. 107.\n\n_Blank and Ladder._\n\nA boy is selected by the following peculiar counting rhyme:\n\n In came a little man with a white hat;\n If you want a pretty girl, pray take that;\n Take your choice of one, two, or three,\n If you want a pretty girl, pray take she.\n\nLad after lad being successively excluded, the last remaining is \"it,\"\nand has to hide himself, when he calls out,\n\n Blank and ladder!\n\nThe searcher may summon the fugitive to indicate his whereabouts:\n\n Halloo if you're far off, whistle if you're nigh.\n\n _Salem, Mass._\n\nIn Portland, Me., the shout of the concealed party is, \"Blank,\nblank, Cornelia!\" and in the western part of the State of New York,\n\"Blancalilo!\"\n\nThe searcher, on discovering one of the hidden players, calls \"Hi spy!\"\nand tries to touch the latter before he can reach goal, the rule being\nthat\n\n Elbow and knee\n Always go free.\n\n\nNo. 108.\n\n_Blind-man's Buff._\n\nA blindfolded player is led into the centre of a room, taken by the\nshoulders, and turned about three times, after which he must catch\nsomebody to replace him.\n\nFor this initiation there is in the Middle States a rhyme:\n\n \"How many horses have you in your father's stable?\"\n \"Three; black, white, and gray.\"\n \"Turn about, and turn about, and catch whom you may.\"[104]\n\nThe English name, \"Hoodman-blind,\" is derived from the manner of\nblindfolding formerly in use. When caps were worn which could be\ndrawn at will over the face, the caps, reversed so as to cover the\ncountenance, formed the mask.\n\nThis game belongs to all ages and most countries, and is known by many\ndifferent names, frequently taken from animals, for example: \"Blind\nCow\" in Germany; \"Blind Goat\" in Sweden; \"Blind Mouse\" in South Germany\nand Servia; \"Blind Hen\" in Spain; \"Blind Fly,\" or \"Blind Cat,\" in\nItaly. To the English name, \"Blind-man's Buff,\" correspond the Polish\n\"Blind Old Man,\" and the Norwegian \"Blind Thief.\" In these titles a\nmythologic allusion is probably contained, which is quite clear in the\nScotch \"Belly-blind,\"[105] the latter name representing a malicious\ndemon. Thus again appears the conception of a supernatural adversary so\ncommon in games of pursuit.\n\nA familiar variation makes this a ring-game. The blindfolded person\nstands in the centre, with a staff, while the ring circles about him.\nWhen he strikes the floor three times, the ring must pause. The person\nin whose direction he points must grasp the staff, and utter some\nsound, disguising the voice as much as possible. The first must then\nguess the name from the sound. In New York this form of the game is\ncalled \"Peggy in the Ring,\" and the request is \"to squeak.\"\n\nIn Cincinnati the game is also played in a dark room, without\nbandaging the eyes, and is then called \"Devil in the Dark.\"\n\nAnother variety, also commonly played without blindfolding, goes by the\nname of \"Still Pond,\" or \"Still Palm.\" The child who is \"it,\" counting\nup to ten, says,\n\n Still proving,\n No moving.\n\nAll now keep their places. The catcher must guess by the touch the name\nof his captive.\n\nThe game of which we write is described by Pollux, as played seventeen\nhundred years since in various forms, all of which are still familiar:\n\"The game of 'Muinda,' when any one, closing his eyes, cries, 'Look\nout!' and whomsoever he catches he makes him close his eyes instead;\nor when, keeping his eyes shut, he seeks after the children who have\nhidden until he catches them; or else he closes his eyes while the\nothers touch him, and if anybody gives a clue himself, he speaks out\nand guesses till he gets it right.\"\n\nWhen a bandage was used, the game was called the \"Brazen Fly\" (we may\nsuppose a gaudy species of insect, from the zigzag motion, as boys run\nwhen chasing butterflies), and is thus described by the same author:\n\"The eyes of a boy having been bound with a bandage, he goes round,\nsaying, 'I shall chase the _brazen fly_;' but the others, answering,\n'You will chase him but not catch him,' hit him with whips of papyrus,\ntill he catches one of them.\" These papyrus whips were the equivalent\nof our knotted handkerchiefs.\n\n\nNo. 109.\n\n_Witch in the Jar._\n\nOne of the children is selected for a witch, and each of the others\nchooses some tree or post for a goal. The witch then marks out on the\nground with a stick as many circles as there are players, which she\ncalls \"jars.\" The children run out from their homes, and are pursued by\nthe witch. Whenever she catches one, she puts him in one of her jars,\nfrom which he cannot escape unless some one else chooses to free him by\ntouching. Once freed, he cannot be recaught until he has reached his\nhome, and ventures out once more. The freer, however, can be caught,\nand as the witch keeps guard over her prisoners, it is a dangerous\ntask for a player to attempt to set his companions free. When all are\ncaught, a new witch is chosen.\n\n\nNo. 110.\n\n_Prisoner's Base._\n\nThis game is also called \"Prisoner's Bars;\" but the first name,\nmentioned in \"Cymbeline,\" seems the older, from which the latter has\narisen by misunderstanding.\n\nThe game, which is also popular in Europe, is originally an imitation\nof warfare. The two armies stand facing each other, and have their\n_bases_ each on a line parallel with that of the adversary. But in\nthe United States the game has been changed, so that the two parties\nstand on the same line, and the bases are placed diagonally opposite\nat a distance of some thirty yards, so that each base is nearer to the\nenemy's forces than to those of the side to which it belongs. The game\nis opened by a challenge given by one leader to the other; each player\ncan tag any one of the opponents who has quitted his line before he has\nleft his own. Any player tagged must go to his base. Any player who can\nreach his base in safety may release a prisoner.\n\nAs it often happens that a half-dozen runners may be pursuing a single\nfugitive, who is cut off from his friends, the chase may be prolonged\nfar from the point of departure, through streets of the town or fields\nof the country.\n\n\nNo. 111.\n\n_Defence of the Castle._\n\nAfter the battle of Dunbar, Oliver Cromwell sent Colonel Fenwick with\ntwo regiments to reduce Hume Castle. The governor, Cockburn, when\nordered to surrender, replied by quoting the following lines, which\nmust have belonged to a boys' game of his day:\n\n I, William of the Wastle,\n Am now in my castle,\n And a' the dogs in the town\n Winna gae me gang down.\n\nThe rhyme, with small change, is still familiar in Scotland, and\nthe game well known in Pennsylvania, where the defiance runs, less\nchivalrously,\n\n Hally, hally, hastle,\n Come into my new castle!\n\nOr, with a change of usage,\n\n Hally, hally, hastle,\n Get off of my new castle!\n\nIn the first case the defender maintains his post against assailants;\nin the latter, he endeavors to capture one of a group who have\nestablished themselves in his castle, represented usually by a\ncellar-door.\n\n\nNo. 112.\n\n+_Lil Lil._+\n\nThis game is played in an open field. A boy stands in the centre of the\nfield, and the other players at the sides. With the cry \"Lil lil!\" they\nrun across. The tagger must touch a runner three times on the back, and\nwhoever is so caught must assist him. There is a rhyme for this game--\n\n Lil, lil,\n Over the hill,\n Wash my lady's dishes,\n Hang them on the bushes, etc.\n\n\"Lil lil!\" is also a cry (in Boston) of children \"coasting,\" when the\ntrack is to be cleared.\n\n\nNo. 113.\n\n_Charley Barley._\n\n Charley, barley, buck and rye,\n What's the way the Frenchmen fly?\n Some fly east, and some fly west,\n And some fly over the cuckoo's nest.\n\n _Portland, Me._\n\nWe have not obtained information as to the manner in which this game\nwas played, but it is evidently identical with the Scotch rhyme:\n\n Hickety, bickety, pease, scone,\n Where shall this poor Scotchman gang?\n Will he gang east, or will he gang west,\n Or will he gang to the craw's nest?\n\nIn the Scotch game, a boy, whose eyes are bandaged, rests his head\nagainst a wall, while the rest come up and lay their hands upon his\nback. He sends them to different places, according to the rhyme, and\ncalls out, \"Hickety, bickety!\" till they have returned, when the\nlast in must take his place. The \"crow's nest\" is close beside the\nblindfolded boy, and is a coveted position.\n\nThis game is also played in Switzerland. Each of the children receives\nthe name of some animal, as Goat, Wolf, Snake, Frog, etc. To the\nswifter and more dangerous beasts are assigned the more distant\npositions. The keeper then shouts out that supper is ready, whereupon\nall rush home, each animal uttering his own peculiar cry. The last in\nis punished.\n\n\nNo. 114.\n\n_Milking-pails._\n\nAll the players join hands in a row, except one, who stands facing\nthem at a distance of a few feet. The row slowly advances towards the\nsolitary child, and then retreats, singing,\n\n \"Will you buy me a pair of milking-pails,\n Oh, mother! Oh, mother?\n Will you buy me a pair of milking-pails,\n Oh, gentle mother of mine?\"\n\nThe mother, advancing and retreating in her turn, sings,\n\n \"Where is the money to come from,\n Oh, daughter! Oh, daughter?\n Where is the money to come from,\n Oh, gentle daughter of mine?\"\n\nThe dialogue then continues to the same air,\n\n \"Where shall your father sleep?\"\n \"Sleep in the servant's bed.\"\n \"Where shall the servant sleep?\"\n \"Sleep in the stable.\"\n \"Where shall the pigs sleep?\"\n \"In the wash-tub.\"\n \"Where shall we wash the clothes?\"\n \"Wash them in the river.\"\n \"What if they should swim away?\"\n \"You can jump in and go after them.\"\n\nOn this the indignant mother chases her daughters, and whoever is first\ncaught must take the mother's place.\n\nThis game does not appear to be established in America, though we have\nheard of it as played in West Virginia. Our present version is from\nchildren lately arrived from England, where it seems to be a favorite.\n\n\nNo. 115.\n\n_Stealing Grapes._\n\nA circle of children with arms raised. Enter keeper of garden:\n\n \"What are you doing in my vineyard?\"\n \"Stealing grapes.\"\n \"What will you do if the black man comes?\"\n \"Rush through if I can.\"\n\n _New York._\n\nThis game is probably a recent translation from the German. It is also\nplayed in Italy in a more humorous form. The thief exclaims, as he\npicks each, \"A delicious grape!\" The guardian demands,\n\n \"What did you pick that grape for?\"\n \"Because it's first-rate.\"\n \"What would you do if I took a stick and chased you?\"\n \"Pick a bunch and run.\"\n\nWhich he accordingly does.\n\n\nNo. 116.\n\n_Stealing Sticks._\n\nA company of players divide, each having the same number of sticks,\nwhich they deposit on each side of a line; whoever crosses the line may\nseize a stick, but if caught is confined in a prison, marked out for\nthe purpose.\n\nThis is the game of \"Scots and English,\" and may be classed among\nsports originating in border warfare.\n\n\nNo. 117.\n\n_Hunt the Squirrel._\n\nA ring of players is formed, about the outside of which circles a child\nwho carries a knotted handkerchief, with which he finally taps another\non the shoulder, and starts to run round the ring. The child touched\nmust pick up the handkerchief, and run in the opposite direction from\nthe first. The two players, when they meet, must courtesy three times.\nThe toucher endeavors to secure the other's place in the ring, failing\nwhich, he must begin again. As he goes about the circle, he recites the\nwords:\n\n Hunt the squirrel through the wood,\n I lost him, I found him;\n I have a little dog at home,\n He won't bite you,\n He won't bite you,\n And he _will_ bite you.\n\n _Cambridge, Mass._\n\nIn Philadelphia, a corresponding rhyme begins:\n\n I carried water in my glove,\n I sent a letter to my love.\n\nA variation from New York:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n I tis-ket, I tas-ket, A green and yel-low bas-ket. I\n sent a let-ter to my love, And on the way I dropp'd it.\n\nThe name of the game in England is \"Drop-glove.\"\n\nAnother and apparently older way of playing \"Hunt the Squirrel\" is a\ngame in which the child touched follows the toucher until he has caught\nhim, pursuing him both in and out of the ring, being obliged to enter\nand leave the circle at the same point as the latter.\n\nA kissing-game, in which the player who makes the circuit taps another\non the shoulder, and then takes flight, while the person touched is\nentitled to a kiss if he can capture the fugitive before the latter\nhas made the tour of the circle and gained the vacant place, is a\nfavorite among the \"Pennsylvania Dutch,\" under the name of \"Hen-slauch\"\n(Hand-slag), that is, striking with the hand. The game is there called\n\"Ring,\" and has inspired certain verses of Harbach, the nearest\napproach to a poet which that unimaginative race has produced.[106]\n\nIn a similar game, formerly played in Massachusetts, the leader of the\ngame touches one of the party on the shoulder, and asks, \"Have you seen\nmy sheep?\" The first replies, \"How was it dressed?\" The toucher now\ndescribes the costume of some player, who, as soon as he recognizes the\ndescription of himself, must take flight, and endeavor to regain his\nplace in safety.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[97] The first lines, \"Chickany,\" etc., are from one old version, the\nrest from another. In the first the bird of prey was called the \"Blind\nBuzzard,\" and the game ended as Blind-man's Buff.\n\n[98] That is: \"Hawk, hawk, what are you digging for?\" \"My mother has\nlost a silver needle.\" \"Is it this?\" \"No.\" \"Is it this?\" \"No.\" \"Is it\nthis?\" \"Yes.\"\n\n[99] \"So-and-so had a nail driven into his shoe, and insisted that he\ncould not be touched while standing on iron.\"--_A Bostonian informant._\n\n[100] The French name in Berry is _Tu l'as_; elsewhere _La caye_; in\nLimousin, _Cab\u00e9_, which may have been derived from _hoc habe_.\n\n[101] Pronounced _Hie_ Spy.\n\n[102] He who is \"it.\"\n\n[103] The identical words in Switzerland--\"eis, zwei, dr\u00fc f\u00fcr mich;\"\nor, \"eis, zwei, dr\u00fc f\u00fcr den oder den.\"\n\n[104] The formula of German children in New York, translated, runs:\n\"Blind cow, we lead thee.\" \"Where?\" \"To the stable.\" \"What to do\nthere?\" \"To eat soup.\" \"I have no spoon.\" \"Go get one.\" The \"blind cow\"\nthen seeks her \"spoon.\"\n\n[105] Professor F. J. Child has shown that _Billie Blin_, which occurs\nin English ballads, is originally a name of Odin, expressing the\n_gracious_ side (German _billig_) of the blind deity. But it seems to\nhave passed into a bad use, as a murderous dwarf or fairy.\n\n[106] See his \"Schulhaus an dem Krik.\"\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\n\n_CERTAIN GAMES OF VERY LITTLE GIRLS._\n\n Dans mon coeur il n'y a pas d'amour,\n Mais il y en aura quelque jour.\n\n _French Round._\n\n\nNo. 118.\n\n_Sail the Ship._\n\nTwo little girls, clinching fingers, and bracing their feet against\neach other, whirl rapidly round, a movement which they call \"Sailing\nthe ship.\"\n\n\nNo. 119.\n\n_Three Around._\n\nThree little girls join hands and swing about, being the simplest form\nof motion without song, to which they give the name of \"Three Around.\"\n\n\nNo. 120.\n\n_Iron Gates._\n\nTwo little girls clasp hands tightly, singing,\n\n Iron gates,\n Never break,\n\nWhile a third throws herself against them, and endeavors to break\nthrough.\n\n\nNo. 121.\n\n_Charley Over the Water._\n\nChildren sing, as they dance with clasped hands about one who stands in\nthe centre of the ring:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Charley over the water,\n Charley over the sea,\n Charley catch a black-bird,\n Can't catch _me_!\n\nAt the last word all stoop, and if the child in the centre can catch\nany other before assuming that position, the latter must replace him.\n\nAlmost any summer evening, in certain streets of New York, children may\nbe seen playing this round, which they sing on one note, with a shriek\nto conclude.\n\n\nNo. 122.\n\n+_Frog in the Sea._+\n\n Frog in the sea,\n Can't catch me?\n\nPlayed like the preceding.\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\n\nNo. 123.\n\n+_Defiance._+\n\nA mother and children:\n\n \"Mother, can I pick a rose?\"\n \"Yes, my dearest daughter, if you don't tear your clothes,\n But remember, to-morrow is your sister's wedding-day.\"\n\nThe children now retire to a safe distance, and sing:\n\n \"I picked a rose.\n I tore my clothes!\"\n \"Come home!\"\n \"I don't hear you.\"\n \"I'll send your father after you.\"\n \"I don't hear you.\"\n \"I'll send your brother after you.\"\n \"I don't hear you.\"\n \"I'll send the dog after you.\"\n \"I don't hear you.\"\n \"I'll send myself after you.\"\n \"Sen' 'em along!\"\n\nA chase follows, and the child caught must replace the mother.\n\nThe dialogue (which belongs to Georgia) is also extended by the\nmother's threatening to send the _cow_, or the _trees_, after the\nchildren.\n\nThis game is differently played by little girls in Philadelphia, thus:\n\n \"Oh, mother, mother, may I go out to play?\"\n \"No, no, no, it's a very cold day.\"\n \"Yes, yes, yes, it's a very warm day,\n So take three steps, and away, away, away.\"\n \"Where's your manners?\"\n \"I haven't any.\"\n\nThe indignant mother now pursues the disobedient children.\n\n\nNo. 124.\n\n_My Lady's Wardrobe._\n\nThe children sit in a ring, and are named according to the articles of\na lady's wardrobe. The child in the centre of the circle of players\nnames some article, as, \"My lady wants her brush, brush, brush.\" She\nwho has received that name must answer before the third utterance or\npay forfeit. The speaker naturally pronounces the word as fast as\npossible.\n\n\nNo. 125.\n\n_Housekeeping._\n\n (A ROUND.)\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Kittie put the kettle on,\n Kettle on, kettle on,\n Kittie put the kettle on,\n We'll all have tea.\n\nTo this familiar little round, girls five or six years of age, in New\nYork, sometimes prefix a fragment of some ballad--\n\n Here stands a red rose in the ring--\n Promised to marry a long time ago.\n\n\nNo. 126.\n\n+_A March._+\n\n March, march, two by two,\n Dressed in yellow, pink, and blue.\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\nNo. 127.\n\n_Rhymes for Tickling._\n\n 1. Tickle'e, tickle'e on the knee;\n if you laugh, you don't love me.\n\n _Philadelphia._\n\n 2. If you're a little lady, as I take you for to be,\n You will neither laugh nor smile when I tickle your knee.\n\n _Georgia._\n\n 3. Old maid, old maid, you'll surely be,\n If you laugh or you smile while I tickle your knee.\n\n _Massachusetts._\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\n_BALL, AND SIMILAR SPORTS._\n\n\n I call, I call; who doe ye call?\n The maids to catch this cowslip ball;\n But since these cowslips fading be,\n Troth, leave the flowers, and maids take me.\n Yet, if but neither you will doe,\n Speak but the word, and I'll take you.\n\n _Herrick._\n\n\nNo. 128.\n\n_The \"Times\" of Sports._\n\nIn an account of boys' sports, it would not be proper to omit some\nallusion to the custom of having a certain \"time\" of the year devoted\nto each amusement. These \"times\" succeeded each other almost as\nregularly as the flowers of summer, the children dropping one and\ntaking up another every year at the same season. This succession,\nwhich the children themselves could hardly explain beforehand, but\nremembered when the occasion came, has impressed itself on observers as\nalmost a matter of instinct. There was, however, a considerable degree\nof variation in the succession of sports in different parts of the\ncountry, and as the practice, though by no means obsolete, is now less\nstrictly observed than formerly, we cannot give any very exact details\non this head. It seems, however, that this succession was only partly\ndependent on the climate, and in part inherited from the mother country.\n\nThus, in all the states from Maine to Georgia, the first \"time\" was\n_marble-time_. In New England, the snow had hardly disappeared, when\nboys began to make the necessary holes in the ground, kneeling for\nthat purpose on the night-frozen soil, from which the moisture was\njust oozing out, to the great detriment of their pantaloons. A friend,\nindeed, asserts that this was the _object_ of the choice of seasons.\nBut at the same time boys in Georgia (and, indeed, in England and\nGermany) were playing the same game.\n\nThe subsequent succession of sports in New York is indicated by the\nadage, \"Top-time's gone, kite-time's come, and April Fool's day will\nsoon be here.\"\n\nIn Georgia the succession was, kites, tops, and hoops. In that region\nthe season for popguns is when the _China-berries_[107] ripen. It is a\nprovision of Providence, a clear case of design, thinks a friend, that\njust at that season the elder pith is ripe enough to be pushed out, and\nso leave the stalks empty to form the barrel of the weapon.\n\nBall is especially a holiday game. In Boston, _Fast-day_ (the first\nThursday of April) was particularly devoted to this sport. In England,\nthe playing of ball at Easter-tide seems to have been a custom of the\nfestival, inherited probably from pre-Christian ages. Foot-ball was a\nregular amusement on the afternoon of a New England Thanksgiving.\n\nThe invariable succession of children's sports has been also remarked\nin other countries. A Swiss writer says, \"The principal games of boys\nbelong to the first third of the year, return always in a like order,\nand replace each other after an equal interval, as if it were in the\nnatural course of events, and without the individual child being able\nto say who had given the sign and made the beginning.\"\n\nWe may remark that another American usage has been remarked in other\ncountries. In the last generation the boys of different towns, or of\ndifferent quarters of the same town, waged regular and constant war.\nIn Boston, for example, there was a well-defined line, beyond which\nno \"North-ender\" dared be seen. Any luckless lad obliged to go into\nthe hostile district took good care to keep his eyes open, to dodge\ncautiously about the corners, and to be ready for instant flight in\ncase of detection. So in France and Switzerland, where this warfare is\na sort of game, a relic, no doubt, of the ancient separatism, which\nmade every community in a measure an independent state. The chief\nweapons are stones, as they were formerly in the United States. In the\nold town of Marblehead boys were accustomed to \"rock\" any stranger, and\nno unknown driver dared to enter its limits with a vehicle.\n\n\nNo. 129.\n\n_Camping the Ball._\n\nIn the vocabulary of a Massachusetts schoolboy, to \"camp\" a foot-ball\nis to kick it, while held between the hands, from one side of the field\nto the other. In England, country-folk speak of the \"camp-game\" of\nball, of the \"camping-ground.\" In this amusement there are lines which\nmark the rear limit of the respective sides, while the ball is placed\nin the middle, and the object of either party is to drive it, with foot\nor hand, over the enemy's line. Similar, in the United States, is the\nold-fashioned game of foot-ball, in which, to use the expression of the\nplay-ground, two captains \"choose up\" sides, selecting alternately from\nthose present, and first play is determined by lot.\n\nThis description of foot-ball, or the English \"camp-game,\" will answer\nvery well for a translation of the account which Pollux, writing in\nGreek in the second century, gave of the \"common ball,\" or \"ball\nbattle,\"[108] of his day. Almost exactly the same was the ancient Norse\ngame, except that the resemblance to warfare was closer; the players\nwere matched by age, and played against each other in the order of\nchoice. The balls were heavy, sometimes made of horn, so that we read\nof men killed and wounded in the encounter. In like manner, up to a\nvery recent time, in Lower Germany, villages contended against each\nother, hurling wooden balls loaded with lead, man against man. Thus the\ngame was really \"kemping\" (_Kemp_, a warrior, champion), and the field\na kemping-ground.\n\nIt was natural that, while the men contended, the boys also should have\ntheir mimic sports, in all respects similar; and we read in a Saga how\nthe seven-year-old Egil slew with an axe his antagonist Grim, who had\nvery properly knocked him down for breaking a bat over Grim's head. In\nthose days such feats were held to presage an honorable career.\n\nThe Persians and Turks still practise a different sort of game, which\nis played on horseback, the riders using a racket to strike with. Five\nor six horsemen circle about, and strike the ball at each other; if it\ndrops on the ground, a slave picks it up. The ball is heavy, covered\nwith hard leather, and capable of doing serious harm. This game is, in\nfact, an imitation of warfare, a modification of casting the \"jered,\"\nor javelin. The \"Arabian Nights\" recite how, while the Caliph Haroun\nAl-Raschid was playing, a spy aimed a ball at him from behind, with the\nintent of assassination.\n\nThe Byzantine court adopted from the East the playing on horseback and\nthe racket, but introduced these into a game resembling the ancient\n\"ball-battle.\" The historian Cinnamus describes the Emperor Manuel, in\nthe twelfth century, as fond of this species of polo.\n\nFrom Eastern custom we get our tennis, while most of our games with bat\nand ball seem to have come down to us from the ancient North.\n\nThe history of the change from actual to imitative warfare, from the\nlatter to a harmless and courtly amusement or to a rustic pastime,\nfrom this last again in our own days to a scientific sport, may supply\nmaterial for serious reflection.\n\n\nNo. 130.\n\n_Hand-ball._\n\nNo doubt our Saxon ancestors had, besides the half-military exercise\nreferred to, other sports with the ball, better adapted to girls and\nchildren, though no description of such has come down to us. We know,\nhowever, that the Roman games with the ball were essentially the same\nas our own. Girls still strike, as then, balls with the palm of the\nhand to keep up their bouncing, or fling them against the wall to drive\nthem back on the return, or pass the ball from hand to hand in the ring\nor row. Boys in those days, standing on the corners of a triangle, sent\nback the ball on the fly or the bounce, giving with one hand and taking\nwith the other, much as they do to-day. The ball itself was very much\nthe same in the time of the early empire as now, soft or hard, plain or\ncovered with painted or embroidered cloth, a large hollow balloon, or\na small light sphere. Children's balls were made with a rattle inside,\nand divided into gaudy divisions like the lobes of an orange, then as\nat present.\n\nThe oldest mention of a girls' game of ball is in the \"Odyssey.\" It is\na grand washing-day in the palace of Alcinous, and Nausicaa, daughter\nof the house, is to preside over the operation. So the \"shining\" but\nsoiled raiment is brought out of a storeroom, loaded on a mule-wagon,\nwith food, wine, and dainties, not forgetting a flask of oil for use\nafter the bath. When the clothes have been scoured in pits along\nthe river-side, and spread out to dry on the rocks by the shore, the\nmaidens bathe, anoint themselves, and lunch. Afterwards the ball is\nbrought out; the game is accompanied with song, in which the princess\nleads, and far excels the rest. The party is on the point of returning,\nthe mules have been harnessed, and the clothes folded, when Nausicaa\nhas a fancy for a romp; she throws the ball at one of her damsels, but\nmisses her aim, and the ball falls into the eddying river, while the\nmaidens shriek out loudly.\n\nMisson (about 1700) mentions \"the throwing at one another of\ntennis-balls by girls\" in England, as a practice of a particular season\nof the year.\n\nThe German poets of the Middle Ages abound in allusions to the game,\nwhich is described with the same fresh poetical feeling that inspires\nthe whole period. It was the first sport of summer. \"When I saw the\ngirls on the street throwing the ball, then came to our ears the song\nof the birds,\" says Walter von der Vogelweide. A common way of playing\nwas for youths and maids to contend for the ball, which the possessor\nthen threw to the one he or she \"loved the best.\" A minnesinger\npleasantly depicts the eager girls calling to some skilful and favorite\nlad, as he is about to throw, holding out their hands,\n\n \"Thou art mine, cousin--throw it here, this way!\"\n\n\nNo. 131.\n\n_Stool-Ball._\n\nWilliam Bradford, the second Governor of Massachusetts, records,\nunder date of the second Christmas-day of the colony: \"The day called\nChristmas-Day, ye Gov.r caled them out to worke (as was used), but ye\nmost of this new company excused themselves, and said it wente against\ntheir consciences to work on ye day. So ye Gov.r tould them that if\nthey made it mater of conscience, he would spare them till they were\nbetter informed. So he led away ye rest, and left them; but when they\ncame home at noone from their worke, he found them in ye streete at\nplay openly, some pitching ye bar, and some at stoole-ball and such\nlike sports. So he went to them, and took away their implements, and\ntould them that it was against his conscience, that they should play\nand others work. If they would make ye keeping of it mater of devotion,\nlet them keep their houses, but there should be no gameing or\nrevelling in ye streets. Since which time nothing hath been attempted\nthat way, at least openly.\"\n\nStool-ball was so named from the setting-up of a stool to be bowled at.\nThe ball was struck with the hand by the player at the stool. If the\nball struck the stool, the players changed places. In another form of\nthe game, which seems to be that referred to here, there were several\nstools, men at each, and a bowler outside. When the ball was hit (with\nthe hand) the players must change places, and the bowler was at liberty\nto hit with the ball any player while between the stools, and so put\nhim out.\n\nBradford, as a Puritan, had perhaps some reason for his aversion to\nhand-ball on holidays, seeing that it appears to be connected with\nancient religious usage. \"Stool-ball\" was especially an Easter-game,\nplayed by ladies for small stakes, particularly a _tansy_ or\nEaster-cake;[109] thus we have the name in a pretty rhyme of the\nseventeenth century--\n\n At stool-ball, Lucia, let us play,\n For sugar, cakes, or wine;\n Or for a tansey let us pay,\n The loss be mine or thine.\n If thou, my dear, a winner be,\n At trundling of the ball,\n The wager thou shalt have, and me,\n And my misfortunes all.\n\nAccording to a curious extract from a manuscript given by Ducange, of\nthe diocese of Auxerre, it was an ancient custom to play in the church,\non Easter Monday, a solemn game of ball, while singing anthems proper\nto the season.\n\n\"The ball having been received from a proselyte, the dean, or another\nin his stead, he and the rest wearing the _almutia_, sang the\nantiphonal which begins, \"_Victim\u00e6 Paschali laudes_;\" then seizing the\nball with his left hand, he led the dance, the others, taking hold of\nhands, variously inflecting the chorus, while the ball was delivered\nor thrown by the dean to one or more of the choristers alternately, so\nas to weave a garland, as it were. The game and motions were conducted\naccording to the numbers of the prose. The dancing having been\nfinished, the chorus after the dance hastened to the banquet.\"\n\nThis dance was not merely a local custom, but practised in other towns.\nAt Vienne it was conducted by the archbishop in his palace.\n\nNo doubt we have here a survival of the ancient games of the spring\nfestival, in a day when mirth and the exhibition of physical prowess\nwere considered acceptable to deity, and elevated into religious\nexercises.\n\n\nNo. 132.\n\n_Call-Ball._\n\nThis game (commonly called Callie-ball, or Ballie-callie), was formerly\na common sport of schoolboys in New England. The ball was thrown\nagainst a house, and at the same time a name called. The lad named must\nstrike back the ball on its rebound.\n\nWe are not well informed as to the sequence, but the game in Austria,\nwhere it is well known, goes on as follows: If the player, whose name\nis called, drops the ball, he must pick it up as quickly as possible,\nwhile the rest scatter. He then calls \"Stand!\" upon which the players\nhalt, and he flings it at whom he pleases. If he misses his aim, he\nmust place himself in a bent position with his hands against a wall,\nuntil every player has taken a shot at him.\n\nThe delightful lines of Herrick, cited as the motto of the present\nchapter, show us youths and maids playing at \"call-ball;\" but the game\nhere appears to consist simply in calling out the name of the person\nof the opposite sex who is to catch the ball, as in the medi\u00e6val sport\nreferred to in No. 130.\n\n\nNo. 133.\n\n_Haley-Over._\n\nThe players are divided into equal parties, who take position on\ndifferent sides of a building, out of sight of each other. A lad then\nthrows the ball over the roof of the house, to any height or in any\ndirection he pleases. It is the object of the opposite side to catch\nthe ball on its descent; and if any player succeed in doing so, he\nimmediately darts round the corner, and attempts to hit with the ball\nsome player of the other side, who scatter in all directions. To this\nend, he may either throw the ball from a distance, or chase any\nantagonist till he has come up with him, and has an easier mark. If he\nsucceed in hitting a boy, the latter must follow the former back to\nhis own side, to which he henceforward belongs. The game is continued\nuntil all players have been brought over to one side. The party from\nwhich the ball has been thrown have no means of knowing whether it has\nbeen caught or not, until its return, and must be prepared to see an\nadversary suddenly appear, ball in hand, and ready to throw. Hence the\nexcitement of the game, which belongs to Connecticut.\n\n\nNo. 134.\n\n_School-Ball._\n\nIn this amusement of New England school-girls, the ball is tossed by\nthe _teacher_ to the head of the class, and, after being returned by\nthe latter, sent to the next of the row, and so on. If any girl misses,\nshe must go to the foot, and if the _teacher_ misses, the _first\nscholar_ takes her place.\n\n\nNo. 135.\n\n_Wicket._\n\nThis exercise is an old-fashioned game resembling cricket. A peculiar,\nlong, shovel-shaped bat is used, flat, straight on one side and\nspoon-shaped on the other. The ball is bowled at the wicket, which is\ndefended by the player. When the ball is struck, a run must be made to\nthe base of the bowler, and return.\n\n\nNo. 136.\n\n_Hockey._\n\nThis sport is also called _Shinny_. The ball is struck on the ground\nwith a bent stick, the object being to drive it over the enemy's line.\nThe game is much played on the ice, as has been the case from the\noldest times in the North; for this is doubtless a descendant of the\ngames with bat and ball described in Icelandic Sagas. The name of \"Bat\nand Ball,\" also given to this sport, indicates that in many districts\nthis was the usual way of playing ball with the bat.\n\n\nNo. 137.\n\n_Roll-Ball._\n\nA row of holes large enough to contain the ball is made, one for each\nboy. The player to whom is allotted the last hole takes the ball,\nstands off, and rolls it in such a way as to stop in one of the holes.\nThe boy into whose place the ball has rolled seizes it, while the rest\nscatter, and throws it at some one of the group; if he succeeds in\nhitting him, a stone is placed in the hole of that boy; if not, the\nthrower must put a stone in his own. The rolling of the ball is then\nrepeated. When five stones (called _babies_[110]) are lodged in any\nhole, that boy is out of the game.\n\nThis New England game is exactly paralleled in Switzerland and Austria.\n\n\nNo. 138.\n\n_Hat-Ball._\n\nThis is the same game as the preceding, played (among the Pennsylvania\nGermans) with _hats_ instead of _holes_. The ball is tossed into the\nhat of the player who is to begin. The first to get five stones in his\nhat loses, and must undergo the punishment of being \"paddled,\" passing\nunder the legs of the row of players for that purpose.\n\n\nNo. 139.\n\n_Corner-Ball._\n\nThis is also an old game kept up by the Pennsylvania\nGermans--Pennsylvania Dutch,[111] as they are commonly called. Four\nplayers stand on the four angles of a square, and the four adversaries\nin the centre.\n\nThe ball is passed from one to another of the players in the corners,\nand finally thrown at the central players. For this purpose the\nfollowing rhyme (which our readers may translate if they can) is used\nby the boy who aims the ball at the players in the centre. These last,\nif they can catch the ball, may fling it back.\n\n Bola we Sols,\n Butar we Schmols,\n Pef'r gat uf,\n War fongt schmeist druf.\n\nIf the player in the corner hits a central player, the latter is out,\nand _vice vers\u00e2_.\n\nThe last player of the losing party has to stand with his head against\na wall till every antagonist has flung the ball at him.\n\n\nNo. 140.\n\n_Base-ball._\n\nIt is only within a few years that Base-ball has become the \"national\nsport\" of America. The present scientific game, which we naturally do\nnot intend to describe, was known in Massachusetts, twenty years ago,\nas the \"New York game.\" A ruder form of Base-ball has been played in\nsome Massachusetts towns for a century; while in other parts of New\nEngland no game with the ball was formerly known except \"Hockey.\" There\nwas great local variety in these sports.\n\nWe may refer to some features of the old-fashioned game which possess\ninterest. The first duty, in games with the bat, is \"to choose up.\"\nThe two best players, or any two selected, toss the bat from one\nto another; the tosser places his right hand above the hand of the\ncatcher, who in turn follows with his own left, and so on.[112] He who\ncan get the last hold has first choice; but the hold must be proved\nby ability to whirl the bat three times round the head, and throw\nit. Another test of a sufficient grasp is for a player to hammer\nwith a second bat on the hand which is uppermost. In this last case,\ntherefore, the grasp must be low enough for the wood of the bat to be\nstruck by the blow.\n\nIn this game there were three \"bases\" besides the \"home\" base, at\nabout the same distance as at present; but the number of players was\nindeterminate. The pitcher threw the ball, and the catcher stood close\nbehind the striker. When the batsman struck the ball, a run must be\nmade; and the ball was not, as at present, thrown _to_ the base, but\n_at_ the runner, usually with all the force possible. If he was hit,\nhe was out; and each member of the side had to be put out separately.\nThere were, moreover, ways in which a side could recover its lost\nplayers. When all were out but one, who was on one of the bases, the\npitcher and catcher, approaching to within some thirty feet, tossed the\nball to and fro, and the runner must \"steal\" his next base, while the\ntwo former watched his movements, ready to throw to the nearest fielder\nof their side, who in turn would hurl the ball at the remaining player.\nIf under these circumstances he could reach home untouched, he might\n\"put in\" any player of his side.\n\nAs there was never any umpire in these games, the field for controversy\nwas unlimited. One way, as we recollect, of settling disputes was as\nfollows: All proceeding to the spot of the doubtful catch, the best\nplayer on one side hurled the ball with all his force upwards; if it\nwas caught by the designated player of the other party, the point was\ngiven in the latter's favor, and _vice vers\u00e2_.\n\nWe need only mention the game of \"Old Cat,\" in which there are two\ngoals--the striker's and the pitcher's--and the run is made from the\nformer to the latter and return. The game is then named from the number\nof batters, \"One Old Cat,\" or \"Two Old Cat.\"\n\n\nNo. 141.\n\n_Marbles._\n\nWe do not intend to describe the various games of marbles, which might\nprobably fill a small volume. Of these there are two principal types.\nOne consists in striking the marbles out of a ring, by shooting from a\nline, or _taw_, drawn as a limit; the other, in making the tour of a\nseries of holes made for the purpose. Whoever first gets back to the\nstarting-point, or taw, wins.\n\nThe first of these games may be descended from a sport of Roman\nchildren, mentioned by Ovid, and still in existence, in which nuts are\nrolled down an inclined plane, with the object of striking the nut of\nthe adversary. The second seems to be the childish reduction of a game\nwith the ball, similar to \"Golf.\"\n\nExtensive is the lore of marbles. When a lad wishes to change his\nposition, so that, while preserving the same distance from his mark,\nhe may have a more favorable position, he exclaims, \"Roundings.\" If,\nhowever, his antagonist is quick enough, he will cry \"Fen [defend]\nroundings.\" The game, when played to win the marbles of the opponent,\nis said to be \"in earnest.\" If any accident happens, and the opponent's\nplay is to be checked, a Georgia lad will say \"King's excuse.\" That\nthis is an ancient phrase is shown by the corruption of the same cry in\nPennsylvania, \"King's scruse.\" Under certain circumstances a boy who\nputs down a second marble is said to \"dub\" (double) a marble, or to\nplay \"dubs.\"[113]\n\n\nNo. 142.\n\n_Cat._\n\nThe \"cat\" is a little billet of wood, about four inches long, and\npointed at the ends, which is to be struck with a light stick. A player\nstands at a little distance, and endeavors to throw this missile into\na hole or circle previously made. Another stands over the circle, and\ndefends it with his stick. If the cat falls in the circle, the batter\nis out. If, on the other hand, it falls out of the circle, he has the\nright of making a stroke. Placing the cat within the circle, he hits it\non one end with his bat; and, as it bounds upwards, endeavors to strike\nit as far away as possible. If the cat is caught, he is out; otherwise,\nhe is entitled to score a number, proportioned to the distance which\nthe cat has been struck, estimated in jumps or foot-lengths. This\nscore, however, is subject to a peculiar negotiation. The pitcher\noffers the batter a certain number of points--as, for example, five.\nIf this is not accepted, he raises his bid to eight, ten, or as high\nas he thinks proper; but if his final offer is refused, the pitcher\nmeasures the distance (in jumps or lengths of the foot), and if he\ncan accomplish it in a less number than that offered, the striker or\nhis side lose that number of points; otherwise, the number measured\nis scored. The game is an agreed number of hundreds. This game is now\nplayed in Hindostan, as well as in Italy and Germany.\n\n\nNo. 143.\n\n_Cherry-pits._\n\nCherry-pits are referred to as used in boys' games as early as A.D.\n1522, and are still so used in the streets of New York.\n\nThe pits are thrown over the palm by the boy whose turn it is to play;\nthey must fall so far apart that the finger can be passed between them.\nThen the player with a fillip of the thumb makes his pit strike the\nenemy's, and wins both. If he misses, the next takes his place.\n\nThis game, like the rest, has its regular season, at which all the boys\nin the neighborhood may be seen playing it.[114]\n\n\nNo. 144.\n\n_Buttons._\n\nButtons are in extensive use in the sports of German children, with\nwhom they form a sort of coinage, each sort having a stipulated\nexchangeable value. Traces of similar usage exist in the United States.\n\nA common New York game consists in throwing buttons. A line is drawn,\nand a hole made about twelve feet off. The players toss their buttons,\nand whoever comes nearest the hole has the first shot. He endeavors to\ndrive the buttons of the rest into the hole, striking them with the\nextended thumb by a movement of the whole hand, which is kept flat\nand stiff. When he misses the next takes his turn, and so on. Whoever\ndrives the adversary's button into the hole wins it.\n\nAnother game, for two players, is called \"Spans.\" The buttons are cast\nagainst the wall, and if a player's button falls within a span of the\nadversary's, he may aim at it and win it by striking as before.\n\n\nNo. 145.\n\n_Hop-Scotch._\n\nA figure of about twelve feet in length, similar to that represented in\nthe diagram, is described on the ground, and selection made of a small\nflat stone, having sharp edges. From a line drawn at a distance of a\nfew paces, a stone is tossed into No. 1, after which the boy or girl\nhops on one foot into No. 1, and kicks out the stone, which is then\nthrown into No. 2. The player now hops into No. 1, and jumps into No.\n2, in such a way that one foot is in the division 2, and one foot in 1.\nThe stone is kicked into 1, and then out, and so on. In passing through\ndivisions 1 and 2, 4 and 5, 8 and 9, a straddle must be made, one foot\nbeing placed in each; in the others a hop only mast be taken. A failure\nto throw the stone into the right place, or to kick it into the right\ndivision, or leaving it on any line, or touching the raised foot, or\nstepping on a line, puts out, and the next takes his or her turn.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn other localities, no straddling step is taken, but the player, in\ncertain divisions, is allowed to place the stone on his foot, and so\nexpel it from the figure at a single kick; the compartments also vary\nin number and arrangement.\n\nThis is one of the universal games, common from England to Hindostan.\nEverywhere the game consists in describing on the soil an oblong figure\nwith several divisions, and in tossing a flat stone or potsherd into\nthem, and then kicking it out with a hopping motion; the arrangement\nof the divisions differs. From the shape of the last compartment, the\ngame is called in Italy \"The Bell,\" and in Austria \"The Temple.\" In\nItaly the three last divisions are the _Inferno_, _Purgatorio_, and\n_Paradiso_. In New York the last is called _Pot_.\n\n\nNo. 146.\n\n_Duck on a Rock._\n\nWe will suppose a party of boys to be debating what game to play. \"What\nshall we play?\" \"Duck on a Rock,\" suggests one. The idea is instantly\ntaken up. \"My one duck,\" cries some boy. \"My duck,\" shouts a second,\nseizing a stone. The last to \"speak\" gets no duck, and has to guard\nthe \"drake.\" The drake is a good-sized stone, which is placed on an\nelevated position, or boulder, if such be at hand. The \"ducks\" are\nstones about the size of the fist. The object is to knock the drake off\nthe rock. After each player has thrown his duck, and missed, he must\nrecover it. The guardian stands by the \"rock,\" but cannot tag a player\nuntil the latter has touched his own duck, when he must replace the\nkeeper. Meanwhile, if the drake is knocked off the rock, the keeper\nmust replace it before he can tag any one, and this is therefore the\nsignal for a rush to recover the thrown ducks. The game is not without\na spice of danger from these missiles.\n\n\nNo. 147.\n\n_Mumblety-peg._\n\nIn this game of boys and girls, a knife is cast to the earth, on a\npiece of turf, with the point downwards, and must remain sticking\nthere; there are several successive positions of throwing, as follows:\n(1) the knife is held in the palm, first of the right and afterwards of\nthe left hand, point outward, and thrown so as to revolve towards the\nplayer; (2) it is rested successively on the right and left fist, with\nthe point uppermost, and thrown sideways; (3) the knife is pressed with\nthe point resting on each finger and thumb of both hands in succession,\nand cast outwards; after this it is held by the point, and _flipped_\n(4) from the breast, nose, and each eye; (5) from each ear, crossing\narms, and taking hold of the opposite ear with the free hand; (6) over\nthe head backwards. If the knife does not \"stick,\" the next player\ntakes his turn; the first to conclude the series wins. The winner\nis allowed to drive a peg into the ground with three blows of the\nknife, which the other must extract with his teeth, whence the name,\n\"Mumblety-peg.\" Another title is \"Stick-knife.\"\n\n\nNo. 148.\n\n_Five-stones._\n\nSuch was the title of the common game in a New England town (Salem,\nMass.).[115] The same amusement, under the same name, was popular in\nGreece more than two thousand years ago, being mentioned as a girls'\ngame by Aristophanes. It is thus described by Pollux: \"The game of\n'five-stones;' little stones, pebbles, or bones are thrown up, so as to\ncatch them on the back of the turned hand, or if not all are caught,\nthe rest must be picked up with the fingers, while the others remain on\nthe hand.\"\n\nA pleasing painting in the Museum of Naples represents goddesses\nplaying at \"Five-stones.\" Agla\u00eb is looking on; three of her bones lie\non the ground, one is pressed by her thumb, the fifth is hidden by her\ngarments. Hile\u00e6ra has just thrown; she has caught three, the other\ntwo are falling to the ground. Niobe, Latona, and Phoebe are standing\nbehind.\n\nOne of the movements of the Spanish game is still exactly the same as\nthat described by the Greek writers of the second century. The game\nin America, as played in the childhood of the writer, also began with\ncatching the stones on the back of the hand, at first one only out of\nthe five tossed up, then two, three, four, and, finally, the whole five.\n\nThe game now consists of an indefinite number of figures, of which\nthe names and arrangements vary in different localities. In all those\ndescribed below, a single stone is tossed up, to be caught in the palm,\nand while this is in the air the others must be taken into the hand, or\ncertain motions made.\n\n_Ones, twos, threes, fours._--The stones are rolled on the table or\nfloor, either directly from the right hand, or over the back of the\nleft hand resting on the table. A single stone being selected and\ntossed in the air, as above mentioned, the rest must be picked up; in\nthe first figure one at a time, in the second by groups of two, in the\nthird by three and one, and finally the whole four together. In case of\nan error, the next takes his turn.\n\n_Jumping the Ditch._--The four stones remaining, after one has been\nchosen, are placed in a line; the first and third of the row are then\nto be caught up together, and afterwards the second and fourth.\n\n_Knock at the Door_, _Strike the Match_, _Wash the Clothes_, etc.--A\nselected stone being thrown up, motions corresponding to the title are\nto be made on the floor while it is in the air.\n\n_Set the Table._--Four stones are placed in a heap, as if to represent\na pile of plates. One of these is taken from the heap, in the usual\nmanner. It is then held between the thumb and palm of the right hand,\nand, with a second toss of the chosen stone, is deposited on the floor\nat the corner of an imaginary square. The square having been completed\nby four stones, motions are made to indicate the arrangement of the\nglasses, etc. _Clear the Table_ is the reverse movement, in which the\nstones are again brought to the centre.\n\n_The Well._--The left hand is laid on the table with the thumb and\nindex finger joined. Into the opening so formed the four stones are\npushed, by a fillip of the finger. The hand is then removed from the\ntable, and the stones must be caught up together as they lie. The\nfigures vary, according as the thumb and index are made to form an\narch or circle, are laid on the table or floor horizontally, or in an\nupright position, or, finally, as the hand is raised above the table in\nthe form of a cup. These varieties receive the names of _Peas in the\nPod_, _Doves in the Cot_, etc.\n\n_Horses in the Stall._--The left hand is laid on the table with the\nfingers extended, and four stones placed in front of the openings,\nrepresenting stalls. A stone being thrown up as usual, the four others\nare filliped into the openings, and afterwards must be picked up\ntogether from the positions in which they lie. In _Horses out of the\nStall_ the stones are brought out from between the fingers, and then\ncaught up.\n\nOther movements are _Feeding the Elephant_, _Spinning the Wheel_,\n_Going up the Ladder_, etc., to the number of thirty or more. Failing\nto catch the stone thrown up, or not succeeding in the required motion,\nor touching a stone unnecessarily, constitute errors, in which case it\nis often required to go back to the very beginning of the game.\n\nInstead of pebbles, little double tripods of iron, probably\nrepresenting the more ancient _bones_, are generally in use; and the\nfifth stone, or \"jack,\" is often replaced by a ball or marble, the\nlatter being allowed to bound before it is caught. This usage seems to\nbe of German origin. Sometimes marbles are used, the \"jack\" being of\na different color from the rest, and school-girls take pride in the\nbeauty of the agates they employ for this purpose.\n\nAbout Boston a similar game is much played under the name of \"Otadama,\"\nor \"Japanese jacks.\" Seven little silk bags are filled with rice, one,\nof a different color from the rest, being called the \"jack.\" The game\nconsists of four parts. In the first figure, the silk bags being placed\non the floor, the \"jack\" is thrown up, and the other six picked up one\nby one, being so deposited as to keep them together in groups of twos,\nso that two at a time may be caught up, which is the next thing to be\ndone. Then come groups of three, four and two, and five and one, next\nthe six together, the bags, after being caught, being so dropped as to\nprepare for the following movements. The next motion is \"tattoo,\" which\nconsists in throwing up the \"jack\" and catching it on the back of the\nhand, then throwing it up again from the back of the hand and catching\nit in the fingers, without turning over the palm.\n\nThe second figure contains \"second ones,\" \"second twos,\" \"second\nthrees,\" \"second fours,\" \"second fives,\" \"second sixes.\" These are\nthe same as in the first figure, except that in each case the bags\ncaught, instead of being merely dropped from the hand, as before, are\ntossed up together with the \"jack,\" which last must be caught again\nbefore falling. In the second and third figures \"tattoo\" follows every\nmovement.\n\nThe third figure begins with \"third sixes,\" in which, the six bags\nbeing caught up and held tightly, the \"jack\" is again tossed, the six\nslapped on the floor, and the \"jack\" caught on the back of the hand.\nThe second motion is \"fourth sixes,\" which resembles second sixes,\nexcept that the \"jack\" is now caught on the back of the hand. Next\ncomes \"touch.\" The six bags are caught up, thrown with the \"jack\"\ninto the air, and the floor is touched with the middle finger, before\ncatching the \"jack.\" After this follows \"fours and threes,\" in which,\nthe six bags having been caught up, the palm is turned uppermost with\nthe seven bags (including the \"jack\"), and it is required to throw off\nfirst four at a time, and afterwards the other three. \"Pack up\" is the\nnext motion. The six bags are caught up, compactly arranged in the palm\nof the hand, and must be thrown up and caught on the back of the hand.\nTwo chances are allowed. The bags dropped the first time may be tried\nby themselves. Then \"third ones,\" which is the same as \"second ones,\"\nexcept that, the bags being placed in a row with the \"jack\" at the\nleft, the \"jack\" is constantly exchanged for each bag that is caught\nup. \"Tattoo\" follows each of these movements.\n\nThe fourth and last figure is done with the left hand. The palm is\nturned towards the floor, upon which all the bags lie in a row,\nthe \"jack\" at the right; a bag is then picked up by the thumb and\nforefinger, keeping the other fingers extended, and is tossed on the\nback of the hand. It must remain there while the second bag is picked\nup, and is tossed off the hand when the second is tossed on. This\nmotion is repeated with the other five, ending with the \"jack,\" and the\ngame is finished with \"tattoo.\"\n\nThe game is played by two or more. In case of an error, the next plays;\nbut an error in the last figure requires the player to go back to the\nbeginning of the game. The \"jack\" is often made square and somewhat\nflat, while the other bags are drawn up at two ends, and have a rounder\nshape. It is necessary that they should be soft and flexible.\n\nThis game is of Japanese origin, \"Tedama\"[116]--that is,\n\"Hand-balls\"--being its proper name. As the specimen given shows, it\nclosely resembles the ancient game of \"Five-stones.\" We are informed,\non Japanese authority, that stones are habitually used by boys in\nplaying, and that the number of these varies. There can be no doubt\nthat the two forms of this amusement are branches of the same root; and\nwe thus have an example of a game which, having preserved its essential\ncharacteristics for thousands of years, has fairly circumnavigated the\nglobe, so that the two currents of tradition, westward and eastward,\nfrom Europe and Asia, have met in America.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[107] \"Do you like best to stay at father's or grandma's?\" \"There's the\nmost berries at grandma's--I'll rather be there.\"\n\n _Georgia Boy._\n\n[108] Sphaeromachia.\n\n[109] Made, according to Johnson, with the leaves of newly sprung herbs.\n\n[110] The identical name in Austria, \"Kinder.\"\n\n[111] They are descendants of emigrants from the Upper Rhine, and speak\na dialect resembling that of the Palatinate, but mixed with English\nwords.\n\n[112] The like method in Austria, where the general idea of the game,\nand many particulars, are the same. There are, however, only two\nbases. The same way, even to the ability to throw the bat with two\nfingers, which is the test of a doubtful hold, is used in Switzerland\nto determine choice of sides in the game answering to No. 139. These\ncoincidences seem to point to a remote antiquity of usage.\n\n[113] \"Fen burnings!\" \"Roundings!\" \"Dubs!\" \"Knuckle down tight where\nyou lay!\" \"Burnings\" signifies breathing on a marble, and thereby\ngetting certain advantages. The lads whom we quote never used the word\nmarbles, but _mibs_. \"Let's play mibs.\"\n\n[114] \"Cherry-pits are in now; buttons won't be in for a\nfortnight.\"--_New York boy._\n\n[115] Communicated by the late Mr. George Nichols, of Cambridge,\nMass., formerly of Salem. The common name, _Jack-stones_, seems to be\na corruption for _Chuck-stones_, small stones which can be chucked\nor thrown. \"Chuckie-stanes,\" in Scotland, means small pebbles.\n\"Checkstones, small pebbles with which children play.\"--_Dialect of\nCraven._\n\n[116] O-t\u00e9dama (pronounce as in Italian) is, we learn, compounded of\n_O_, the, _te_, hand, and _tama_, balls. It is played with song, which\nconsists in chanting the titles of the several movements; thus, in the\nfirst figure, (1) O Hito, (2) O Fu, (3) O Mi, (4) O Yo, (5) O Itzu,\n(6) O Mu. The second figure, in which begins _Tonkiri_ (\"tattoo\"),\nis called Zakara (a meaningless word); and the chant is, (1) O Hito\nZakara, (2) O Fu Zakara, (3) O Mi Zakara, etc. These numbers are\nchildren's numeration, of which there are two sorts; the present series\ncontinues, (7) Nana, (8) Ya, (9) Kono, (10) To. We have varying forms\nfrom a friend in Hartford, Conn., where the song has been borrowed from\nJapanese students. Probably provincial usages in Japan differ. We give\nthe above terms (not the game, which is current in the United States),\nas written by a Japanese gentleman. It is noteworthy that this childish\nsystem has no connection with the regular table.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\n_RHYMES FOR COUNTING OUT._\n\n\n Petite fille de Paris,\n Pr\u00eate-moi tes souliers gris,\n Pour aller en Paradis.\n Nous irons un \u00e0 un,\n Dans le chemin des Saints;\n Deux \u00e0 deux,\n Sur le chemin des cieux.\n\n _French Counting Rhyme._\n\n\nNo. 149.\n\n_Counting Rhymes._\n\nThere are various ways in which children decide who shall begin in a\ngame, or, as the phrase is, be \"it.\"[117] When this position is an\nadvantage, it is often determined by the simple process of \"speaking\nfirst.\" So far as can be determined when all are shouting at once, the\nfirst speaker is then entitled to the best place. Otherwise it is the\npractice to draw straws, the shortest gaining; to \"toss up\" a coin,\n\"heads or tails;\" or to choose between the two hands, one of which\nholds a pebble.\n\nThe most interesting way of decision, however, is by employing the\nrhymes for \"counting out.\" A child tells off with his finger one word\nof the rhyme for each of the group, and he on whom the last word falls\nis \"out.\"[118] This process of exclusion is continued until one only\nis left, who has the usually unpleasant duty of leading in the sport.\nAll European nations possess such rhymes, and apply them in a like\nmanner. These have the common peculiarity of having very little sense,\nbeing often mere jargons of unmeaning sounds. This does not prevent\nthem from being very ancient. People of advanced years often wonder to\nfind their grandchildren using the same formulas, without the change\nof a word. The identity between American and English usage establishes\nthe currency of some such for three centuries, since they must have\nbeen in common use at the time of the settlement of this country.\nWe may be tolerably sure that Shakespeare and Sidney directed their\nchildish sports by the very same rhymes which are still employed for\nthe purpose. Furthermore, German and other languages, while they rarely\nexhibit the identical phrases, present us with types which resemble\nour own, and obviously have a common origin. Such a relation implies a\nvery great antiquity; and it becomes a matter of no little curiosity to\ndetermine the origin of a practice which must have been consecrated by\nthe childish usage of all the great names of modern history.\n\nThis origin is by no means clear; but we may make remarks which will at\nleast clear away misconceptions. We begin with that class of formulas\nwhich we have marked from 1 to 13 inclusive.\n\nRespecting these rhymes, we observe, in the first place, that they are\nmeaningless. We might suppose that they were originally otherwise;\nfor example, we might presume that the first of the formulas given\nbelow had once been an imitation or parody of some list of saints, or\nof some charm or prayer. A wider view, however, shows that the rhymes\nare in fact a mere jargon of sound, and that such significance, where\nit appears to exist, has been interpreted into the lines. We observe\nfurther, that, in despite of the antiquity of some of these formulas,\ntheir liability to variation is so great that phrases totally different\nin sound and apparent sense may at any time be developed out of them.\n\nThese variations are effected chiefly in two ways--rhyme and\nalliteration. A change in the termination of a sound has often involved\nthe introduction of a whole line to correspond; and in this manner\na fragment of nursery song may be inserted which totally alters the\ncharacter of the verse. Again, the desire for a quaint alliterative\neffect has similarly changed the initial letters of the words of the\nformulas, according as the whim of the moment suggested.\n\nFrom the fact that neither rhyme nor alliteration is any guide to the\nrelations of these formulas, but seem arbitrarily introduced, we might\nconclude that the original type had neither one nor the other of these\ncharacteristics. This view is confirmed by European forms in which they\nappear as mere lists of unconnected words, possessing some equality of\ntone. Rhythm is a more permanent quality in them than termination or\ninitial. From these considerations it appears likely that the original\nform of the rhymes of which we speak was that of a comparatively brief\nlist of dissyllabic or trisyllabic words.\n\nNow, when we observe that the first word of all the rhymes of this\nclass is obviously a form of the number _one_; that the second word\nappears to be _two_, or a euphonic modification of _two_, and that\nnumbers are perpetually introducing themselves into the series, it is\nnatural to suppose that these formulas may have arisen from simple\nnumeration.\n\nThis supposition is made more probable by a related and very\ncurious system of counting up to twenty (of which examples will be\nfound below), first brought into notice by Mr. Alexander J. Ellis,\nvice-president of the Philological Society of Great Britain, and\ncalled by him the \"Anglo-Cymric Score.\" Dr. J. Hammond Trumbull, of\nHartford, Conn., noticing the correspondence of Mr. Ellis's score with\nnumerals attributed to a tribe of Indians in Maine (the Wawenocs),\nwas led to make inquiries, which have resulted in showing that the\nmethod of counting in question was really employed by Indians in\ndealing with the colonists, having been remembered in Rhode Island,\nConnecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Ohio (where it passed\nfor genuine Indian numeration), and in this way handed down to the\npresent generation as a curiosity. Mr. Ellis has found this score\nto be still in use in parts of England--principally in Cumberland,\nWestmoreland, and Yorkshire, where it is employed by shepherds to count\ntheir sheep, by old women to enumerate the stitches of their knitting,\nby boys and girls for \"counting out,\" or by nurses to amuse children.\nIt is, therefore, apparent that this singular method of numeration must\nhave been tolerably familiar in the mother-country in the seventeenth\ncentury, since the Indians evidently learned it from the early settlers\nof New England. It appears, indeed, that not only the score itself, but\nalso its chief variations, must have been established at that time.\nMr. Ellis, however, who has shown that the basis of these formulas\nis Welsh, is disposed \"to regard them as a comparatively recent\nimportation\" into England. Be that as it may, we see that the elements\nof change we have described, alliteration and rhyme, have been busy\nwith the series. While the score has preserved its identity as a list\nof numerals, the successive pairs of numbers have been altered beyond\nall recognition, and with perfect arbitrariness.\n\nIt is plain that our counting rhymes cannot have been formed from\nthe \"Anglo-Cymric score,\" since the latter is only in use in parts\nof England, while the former are common to many European nations.\nNothing, however, prevents the supposition that they owe their origin\nto a similar root. All that can be said is, that no modern language\nis responsible for the practice, which can hardly be supposed to have\noriginated within the last thousand years.\n\nTurning now to other types of formulas for counting, we see that any\ngame-rhyme or nursery verse may do duty for such. Of lines used solely\nfor this purpose, we find forms which have analogies on the continent\nof Europe. Some of the childish verses so used, like the French rhyme\nwe have set at the head of our chapter, contain allusions which stamp\nthem as ancient. On the other hand, it seems that, in our own country,\nlittle American inventions of the sort, recommended by some attractive\nquaintness, have gained currency, unwritten as of course they are, from\nCanada to the Gulf.\n\nIt appears, from foreign usage, that it was formerly common for each\ngame to have its own especial formula for \"counting out,\" a practice of\nwhich we have an example in No. 107.\n\n (1.) Onery, uery, hickory, Ann,\n Fillison, follason, Nicholas John,\n Queevy, quavy, Virgin Mary,\n Singalum, sangalum, buck.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (2.) Onery, uery, ickory, Ann,\n Filisy, folasy, Nicholas John,\n Queevy, quavy, Irish Mary,\n Stingalum, stangalum, buck.[119]\n\n --_New England._\n\n (3.) Onery, uery, ickory, Ann,\n Fillison, follason, Nicholas John,\n Queevy, quavy, English navy,\n\n Stinkalum, stankalum, John Buck.\n =B-u-c-k= spells buck.\n\n --_Cincinnati_ (1880).\n\n (4.) Onery, uery, ickory, a,\n Hallibone, crackabone, ninery-lay,\n Whisko, bango, poker my stick,\n Mejoliky one leg!\n\n --_Scituate, Mass._ (about 1800).\n\n (5.) Onery, uery, hickory, able,\n Hallowbone, crackabone, Timothy, ladle,\n * * * * *\n\n --_Salem, Mass._[120]\n\n (6.) One's all, zuzall, titterall, tann,\n Bobtailed vinegar, little Paul ran,\n Harum scarum, merchant marum,\n Nigger, turnpike, toll-house, out.\n\n --_Salem, Mass._[121]\n\n (7.) One-amy, uery, hickory, seven,\n Hallibone, crackabone, ten and eleven,\n Peep--O, it must be done,\n Twiggle, twaggle, twenty-one.\n\n --_Georgia._[122]\n\n (8.) Onery, uery, ickery, see,\n Huckabone, crackabone, tillibonee;\n Ram pang, muski dan,\n Striddledum, straddledum, twenty-one.[123]\n\n --_Connecticut._\n\n\n (9.) Eny, meny, mony, my,\n Tusca, leina, bona, stry,\n Kay bell, broken well,\n We, wo, wack.[124]\n\n --_Massachusetts._\n\n (10.) Eny, meny, mony, mine,\n Hasdy, pasky, daily, ine,\n Agy, dagy, walk.\n\n --_Connecticut._\n\n (11.) Eny, meny, mony, mite,\n Butter, lather, bony strike,\n Hair cut, froth neck,\n Halico balico,\n We, wo, wack.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (12.) Ena, mena, mona, my,\n Panalona, bona, stry,\n Ee wee, fowl's neck,\n Hallibone, crackabone, ten and eleven,\n O-u-t spells out.\n\n (13.) Intery, mintery, cutery corn,\n Apple-seed and apple-thorn,\n Wire, briar, limber lock,\n Five mice in a flock;\n Catch him Jack,\n Hold him Tom,\n Blow the bellows,\n Old man out.\n\n --_Massachusetts._\n\n (14.) Ikkamy, dukkamy, alligar, mole,\n Dick slew alligar slum,\n Hukka pukka, Peter's gum,\n Francis.\n\n --_Massachusetts._\n\n (15.) 1. ane.\n 2. tane.\n 3. tother.\n 4. feather.\n 5. fip.\n 6. sother.\n 7. lother.\n 8. co.\n 9. deffrey.\n 10. dick.\n 11. een dick.\n 12. teen dick.\n 13. tother dick.\n 14. feather dick.\n 15. bumfrey.\n 16. een bumfrey.\n 17. teen bumfrey.\n 18. tother bumfrey.\n 19. feather bumfrey.\n 20. gig it.\n\n (16.) 1. een.\n 2. teen.\n 3. tuther.\n 4. futher.\n 5. fip.\n 6. sother.\n 7. lother.\n 8. porter.\n 9. dubber.\n 10. dick.\n 11. een dick.\n 12. teen dick.\n 13. tuther dick.\n 14. futher dick.\n 15. bumpit.\n 16. een bumpit.\n 17. teen bumpit.\n 18. tuther bumpit.\n 19. futher bumpit.\n 20. gig it.[125]\n\n (17.) Stick, stock, stone dead,\n Set him up,\n Set him down,\n Set him in the old man's crown.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (18.) Apples and oranges, two for a penny,\n Takes a good scholar to count as many;\n O-u-t, out goes she.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (19.) a, b, c, d, e, f, g,\n h, i, j, k, l, m, n, o, p,\n q, r, s, t,\n u are out.\n\n --_Cincinnati._\n\n (20.) 1, 2, 3, 4,\n Mary at the kitchen-door,\n 5, 6, 7, 8,\n Mary at the garden-gate.\n\n --_Massachusetts_ (1820).\n\n (21.) 1, 2, 3, 4,\n Lily at the kitchen-door,\n Eating grapes off the plate,\n 5, 6, 7, 8.\n\n --_Philadelphia_ (1880).\n\n (22.) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,\n Mary sat at the garden-gate,\n Eating plums off a plate,\n 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.\n\n (23.) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,\n All good children go to heaven.\n\n --_Massachusetts to Pennsylvania._\n\n (24.) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,\n All bad children have to wait.\n\n --_Massachusetts._\n\n (25.) Monkey, monkey, bottle of beer,\n How many monkeys are there here?\n 1, 2, 3,\n You are he (she).\n\n --_Massachusetts to Georgia._\n\n (26.) Linnet, linnet,\n Come this minute,\n Here's a house with something in it;\n This was built for me, I know.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (27.) School's up, school's down,\n School's all around the town.\n\n (28.) Three potatoes in a pot,\n Take one out and leave it hot.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (29.) Mittie Mattie had a hen,\n She laid eggs for gentlemen,\n Sometimes nine and sometimes ten.\n\n --_Georgia._\n\n (30.) William a Trimbletoe,\n He's a good fisherman,\n Catch his hands, put them in pens,\n Some fly East, some fly West,\n Some fly over the cuckoo's nest--\n O-u-t spells out and be gone.\n\n --_Georgia._\n\n (31.) Red, white, and blue,\n All out but you.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (32.) Engine No. 9,\n Out goes she.\n\n --_Philadelphia._\n\n (33.) As I went up the apple-tree,\n All the apples fell on me;\n Bake a pudding, bake a pie,\n Did you ever tell a lie?\n Yes, you did, you know you did,\n You broke your mother's teapot-lid--\n L-i-d, that spells lid.\n\n --_Cincinnati._\n\n (34.) Little man, driving cattle,\n Don't you hear his money rattle?\n One, two, three,\n Out goes he (she).\n\n --_Massachusetts._\n\n (35.) Monday's child is fair of face,\n Tuesday's child is full of grace,\n Wednesday's child is sour and sad,\n Thursday's child is merry and glad,\n Friday's child is full of sin,\n Saturday's child is pure within;\n The child that is born on the Sabbath day,\n To heaven its steps shall tend alway.[126]\n\n --_Georgia._\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[117] The French expression is the same, _l'\u00eatre_ or _en \u00eatre_. The\nGermans do not use an equivalent, but say to be _in_, to be _out_;\n_sein daran, sein daraus_.\n\n[118] An old way of arranging this is for each of the group to put a\nfinger inside a hat, in order that the words may be told off on the\nfingers.\n\n[119] English _onery_, _twoery_, etc. The forms we give date back to\nabout 1820, before the publication of the \"Nursery Rhymes of England.\"\nThere are numerous small variations. \"_Virgin_ Mary\" we have from\ninformants in the Middle States; \"_Irish_ Mary\" was the common New\nEngland phrase.\n\n[120] This rhyme was used only by _girls_. Boys employed No. 2, and\nwould have been laughed at for counting like girls.\n\n[121] Used by _boys_ in the western part of the town, where were the\ntoll-house and negro settlement.\n\n[122] English rhymes:\n\n Oneery, twoery, ziccary, zan,\n Hollowbone, crackabone, ninery, ten--etc.\n\n[123] This class of formulas (Nos. 1 to 8) appear to be mere variations\nof the same type, a fact which does not prevent individual forms from\nexhibiting a wonderful permanence. We consider as identical a class of\nGerman formulas, very wide-spread and variable, thus:\n\n (_a._) Unichi, dunichi, tipel-te! Tibel, tabel, domine.\n (_b._) Eckati peckati zuchati me, Avi schavi domine.\n (_c._) Aeniga m\u00e4niga tumpel-ti, Tifel, tafel numine.\n (_d._) Anigl panigl subtrahi! Tivi tavi, domini.\n (_e._) Endeli b\u00e4ndeli deffend\u00e9, Gloria tibi domine.\n\nA rhyme quoted by Mr. Ellis from the _Millhill Magazine_ (a school\npaper), and credited to America, is similar:\n\n (_f._) Eeney, meeny, tipty te, Teena, Dinah, Domine.\n\nThe following formulas from Transylvania are of a simpler type; the\nfirst is said to imitate the _Gipsy_, the second the _Magyar_, speech:\n\n (_g._) Unemi, dunemi, tronemi, ronemi, donemi,\n ronza, konza, jewla, dewla, tschok!\n\n (_h._) Aketum, t\u00e4ketum, tinum, tanum, \u00e4rsak, m\u00e4rsak, etc.\n\nWe take the latter type to be a nearer approach to the original form.\nAll sorts of intermediate stages can be observed from between these\nlists and the more complicated examples; but we find no signs of\nnumbers above ten, as in the \"Anglo-Cymric score.\" The Russian and\nFinnish tongues present similar rhymed lists, while many Italian rhymes\nare of like origin, though disguised and extended.\n\n[124] In North Germany:\n\n Ene tene mone mei, Paster Lone bone, strei,\n Ene fune herke berke, Wer? wie? wo? was?\n\nAs this is but one case of identity out of many hundreds, we suppose\nthe rhyme borrowed from the English. There are many German rhymes\nbeginning \"Ene mene mu,\" or similarly; but the variation of the first\nsounds is endless: ene dene, ene tene, ene mene, ente twente, entele\nmentele, ane tane, unig tunig, oringa loringa, etc.; by association or\nrhyme, any nursery song may be introduced, or the first words may be\ndropped.\n\n[125] These examples of the \"Anglo-Cymric score\" (see page 196) were\nobtained, No. 15 from Mrs. Ellis Allen of West Newton, now ninety years\nof age, who was born at Scituate, Mass., where she learned the formula;\nand No. 16 of her daughter, who learned it from an Indian woman, _Mary\nWolsomog_, of Natick. Though mother and daughter, neither had ever\nheard the other's version of the score. To illustrate the relation of\nthis score with Welsh numerals, we add two examples from Mr. Ellis's\npaper (\"reprinted for private circulation from the Transactions of\nthe Philological Society for 1877-8-9,\" pp. 316-372), selected from\nhis fifty-three versions; the first is from England, the second from\nIreland:\n\n 1. aina.\n 2. peina.\n 3. para.\n 4. peddera.\n 5. pimp.\n 6. ithy.\n 7. mithy.\n 8. owera.\n 9. lowera.\n 10. dig.\n 11. ain-a-dig.\n 12. pein-a-dig.\n 13. par-a-dig.\n 14. pedder-a-dig.\n 15. bumfit.\n 16. ain-a-bumfit.\n 17. pein-a-bumfit.\n 18. par-a-bumfit.\n 19. pedder-a-bumfit.\n 20. giggy.\n\n 1. eina.\n 2. mina.\n 3. pera.\n 4. peppera.\n 5. pinn.\n 6. chester.\n 7. nester.\n 8. nera.\n 9. dickera.\n 10. nin.\n 11. eina dickera.\n 12. mina dickera.\n 13. pera dickera.\n 14. peppera dickera.\n 15. pumpi.\n 16. eina pumpi.\n 17. mina pumpi.\n 18. pera pumpi.\n 19. peppera pumpi.\n 20. ticket.\n\nThe modern Welsh numerals, as given by Mr. Ellis:\n\n 1. un.\n 2. dau.\n 3. tri.\n 4. pedwar.\n 5. pump.\n 6. chwech.\n 7. saith.\n 8. wyth.\n 9. nau.\n 10. deg.\n 11. un ar deg.\n 12. deuddeg.\n 13. tri ar deg.\n 14. pedwar ar deg.\n 15. pymtheg.\n 16. un ar bymtheg.\n 17. dau ar bymtheg.\n 18. tri ar bymtheg.\n 19. pedwar ar bymtheg.\n 20. ugain.\n\nThe numbers 4, 5, 15, and combinations 1+15, 2+15, 3+15, 4+15, seem to\nmake the connection unmistakable; but 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9 appear to have\nbeen arbitrarily affected by rhyme and alliteration.\n\n[126] This verse is used as a counting rhyme by children in the state\nmentioned.\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\n_MYTHOLOGY._\n\n\n In the olde dayes of the Kyng Arthour,\n Of which that Britouns speken gret honour,\n Al was this land fulfilled of fayrye.\n\n _The Wife of Baths Tale._\n\n\nNo. 150.\n\n_London Bridge._\n\nNo game has been more popular with children than this, and any summer\nevening, in the poorer quarters of the cities, it may still be seen\nhow six years instructs three years in the proper way of conducting\nit. Two players, by their uplifted hands, form an arch, representing\nthe bridge, under which passes the train of children, each clinging to\nthe garments of the predecessor, and hurrying to get safely by. The\nlast of the train is caught by the lowered arms of the guardians of the\nbridge, and asked, \"Will you have a diamond necklace or a gold pin?\"\n\"a rose or a cabbage?\" or some equivalent question. The keepers have\nalready privately agreed which of the two each of these objects shall\nrepresent, and, according to the prisoner's choice, he is placed behind\none or the other. When all are caught, the game ends with a \"Tug of\nWar,\" the two sides pulling against each other; and the child who lets\ngo, and breaks the line, is pointed at and derided. The words of the\nrhyme sung while the row passes under the bridge are now reduced to two\nlines,\n\n London Bridge is falling down,\n My fair lady!\n\nReaders may wonder why this well-known game should be classed as\n_mythological_; but such a character appears in the European versions.\nThus, in Suabia, the two keepers of the \"Golden Bridge\" are called\nrespectively the \"Devil\" and the \"Angel,\" and the object is to decide\nwho shall be devils and who angels. In France the game is known as\n\"Heaven and Hell.\" The children who have made a good choice, after the\nselection is finished, pursue the devils, making the sign of horns with\nfingers extended from the forehead. In Italy, the name of the sport is\n\"Open the Gates.\" The gates are those of the Inferno and of Paradise;\n_St. Peter_ is the keeper of one, _St. Paul_ of the other. The children\nchoose between _wine_ and _water_; but when the destiny of the last\nchild is decided, the two girls who represent the keepers of the bridge\nbreak their arch of lifted hands and move in different directions,\nfollowed by their subjects, \"while the cries and shrieks of the players\ncondemned to the Inferno contrast with the pathetic songs and sweet\ncadences of those destined to the happiness of Paradise.\"\n\nThe game is mentioned by Rabelais (about A.D. 1533) under the name of\nthe \"Fallen Bridge.\"\n\nIn German versions, the keepers are called \"Devil and Angel,\" \"King\nand Emperor,\" or \"Sun and Moon.\" In this latter form the game has been\none of the few kept up by the Germans of Pennsylvania, who call it the\n\"Bridge of Holland.\"[127]\n\nConnected with this game in Massachusetts is a curious piece of local\nlore. A lady[128] recollects that, in the first years of the century, a\npedler came to her father's house in Plymouth, Mass., and, in default\nof three cents change, left a \"chap-book\" or pamphlet of that value,\ncalled \"Mother Goose's Melodies.\" In this pamphlet (the first authentic\nmention of a publication of that title) the song was included, in\nthe familiar words; but, instead of _London_ bridge, _Charlestown_\nbridge was substituted in the rhyme. In that form only the verses were\nfamiliar to herself and her companions.\n\nCharlestown Bridge, over Charles River, connected Boston with Cambridge\nand other suburban towns, before that time only accessible by ferry or\na long detour. The bridge was \"dedicated\" July 17, 1786; and was, in\nthe eyes of the rustic population of Massachusetts, quite as important\na structure as the London erection of the thirteenth century. The\nproject was undertaken after a long incubation of sixty years, and not\nwithout many apprehensions lest the vast masses of ice rushing down the\nriver in winter should sweep it away. The cost was fifteen thousand\npounds. At the celebration, a salute of thirteen guns was fired from\nFort Hill, \"almost every person of respectable character in private\nand public life walked in the procession,\" and eight hundred persons\nsat down to dinner. No wonder that its fame superseded, locally at\nleast, that of the celebrated structure which was so long the wonder\nof London, and so sacred in nursery lore. We may thus form an idea of\nthe importance of bridges in earlier times--which importance, and the\nsuperstitions consequent, were the root of our game--and also of the\ntendency of each town to localize its traditions, even those of the\nnursery.\n\nWith the exception of the name, the words of the song, in the chap-book\nreferred to, were identical with those of the familiar English version.\nWe learn from another informant that these same words (this time,\nhowever, under the proper title of London Bridge) were often used as a\ndance-song at children's parties about the beginning of the century.\nThe dancers sat in a circle, a boy next a girl; as each verse was\nsung, the lad whose turn it was led out his partner and promenaded,\nsuiting action to meaning. The exact verbal correspondence, and absence\nof the original mode of playing, show that this version of the song,\nand consequently the rhymes of the pamphlet called \"Mother Goose's\nMelodies,\" were not taken from the lips of Americans, but reprinted\nfrom English sources.\n\nThe version repeatedly printed in books for children is not truly\npopular. It has been remodelled by the recorder, and so the original\nidea has been disguised. We have, however, the pleasure of offering\na genuine English version. We add fragments of American forms, and\nfinally a curious text, for which Ireland is ultimately responsible.\nFrom these, taken together, the character of the old English game can\nbe made out.\n\n * * * * *\n\nA.--Song of Charlestown Bridge, as printed (probably about 1786) in the\nchap-book, \"Mother Goose's Melodies:\"\n\n Charlestown Bridge is broken down,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee;\n Charlestown Bridge is broken down,\n With a gay lady.\n\n How shall we build it up again?\n Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.\n\n Build it up with silver and gold,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.\n\n Silver and gold will be stole away,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.\n\n Build it up with iron and steel,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.\n\n Iron and steel will bend and bow,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.\n\n Build it up with wood and clay,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.\n\n Wood and clay will wash away,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee, etc.\n\n Build it up with stone so strong,\n Dance o'er my lady Lee,\n Huzza! 'twill last for ages long,\n With a gay lady.\n\nB.--\n\n London Bridge is broken down,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n London Bridge is broken down,\n With the gay lady.\n\n How shall we mend it up again?\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n How shall we mend it up again\n For the gay lady?\n\n We will mend it up with gravel and sand,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n We will mend it up with gravel and sand\n For the gay lady.\n\n But gravel and sand will wash away,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n Gravel and sand will wash away\n From the gay lady.\n\n We will mend it up with iron and steel,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n We will mend it up with iron and steel\n For the gay lady.\n\n But iron and steel will bend and break,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n Iron and steel will bend and break,\n With the gay lady.\n\n We will mend it up with silver and gold,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n We will mend it up with silver and gold\n For the gay lady.\n\n Silver and gold will be stolen away,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n Silver and gold will be stolen away\n From the gay lady.\n\n We will put a man to watch all night,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n We will put a man to watch all night\n For the gay lady.\n\n Suppose the man should fall asleep?\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n Suppose the man should fall asleep?\n My gay lady!\n\n We will put a pipe into his mouth,\n Dance over my lady Lee;\n We will put a pipe into his mouth,\n For the gay lady.[129]\n\nC.--\n\n London Bridge is falling down,\n Falling down, falling down,\n London Bridge is falling down,\n My fair lady!\n\n You've stole my watch and kept my keys,\n My fair lady!\n\n Off to prison she must go,\n My fair lady!\n\n Take the key and lock her up,\n My fair lady![130]\n\n --_Boston, Mass._\n\n[Illustration]\n\nD.--\n\n London Bridge is falling down,\n My fair lady!\n\n What did the robber do to you?\n My fair lady!\n\n He broke my watch and stole my keys,\n My fair lady!\n\n Then off to prison he must go,\n My fair lady!\n\n --_Savannah, Ga._\n\nE.--Our last version is from the convent-school of Savannah, and,\nalthough recited by a girl of American birth, is of Irish origin:\n\n London Bridge is falling down, etc.\n _My fair lady!_\n How shall we build it up again?--\n Build it up with lime and stone.--\n Stone and lime would wash away.--\n Build it up with iron bars.--\n Iron bars would bend and break.--\n Build it up with gold and silver.--\n Gold and silver would be stole away.--\n Get a watch to watch all night.--\n Suppose the watch should fall asleep?--\n Get him a pipe to smoke all night.--\n Suppose the pipe should fall and break?--\n Get a dog to bark all night.--\n Suppose the dog should get a bone?--\n Get a cock to crow all night.--\n Suppose the cock should fly away?--\n What has this poor prisoner done?--\n He's broke my box and stole my keys.--\n A hundred pounds will set him free.--\n A hundred pounds he has not got.--\n Off to prison he must go,\n _My fair lady!_[131]\n\nAs to the origin of this remarkable game, our citations have already\nmade clear that one of its features consists in a representation of the\nantagonism of celestial and infernal powers, and the final decision by\nwhich each soul is assigned a place on the one side or the other. It\nwas universally believed in the Middle Ages, that the soul, separated\nfrom the body, had to cross a dangerous bridge, and subsequently\nundergo a literal weighing in the balance, according to the result\nof which its destiny was decided. It is in the nature of things that\nchildren, conversant with these ideas, should have dramatized them in\ntheir sports. We see no reason, with the German writers, to go back\nto ancient Northern mythology; nor do we find any ground for believing\nthat our game is more likely to be of Teutonic than Romance descent.\n\nWe suspect, however, that that part of the sport which relates to\nthe warfare of good and evil powers does not belong to the original\nidea, but that a still more primitive game has taken on an ending\nwhich was common to many amusements in the Middle Ages. The central\npoint of the whole is the repeated downfall of the structure. Now\nthere is a distinct mythologic reason for such a representation. In\nearly times no edifice was so important as a bridge, which renders\nintercourse possible between districts heretofore separated. Hence the\nsanctity attributed in medi\u00e6val times to the architects of bridges.\nThe Devil, or (in more ancient guise) the elemental spirit of the\nland, who detests any interference with the solitude he loves, has an\nespecial antipathy to bridges. His repeated and successful attempts\nto interfere with such a structure, until he is bought off with an\noffering like that of Iphigenia, are recorded in legends which attach\nto numerous bridges in Europe. It is on such supernatural opposition\nthat the English form of the game appears to turn. The structure,\nwhich is erected in the daytime, is ruined at night; every form of\nmaterial--wood, stone, and gold--is tried in vain; the vigilance of\nthe watchman, or of the cock and the dog--guardian animals of the\ndarkness--is insufficient to protect the edifice from the attack of the\noffended spirits.\n\nThe child arrested seems to be originally regarded as the price paid\nfor allowing the structure to stand. In times when all men's thoughts\nwere concerned about the final judgment, a different turn was given to\nthe sport--namely, whether the prisoner should belong to the devils\nor to the angels, who wage perpetual warfare, and dispute with each\nother the possession of departed souls. Finally, in quite recent days,\nreligious allusions were excluded, and the captive, now accused of mere\ntheft, was sentenced to be locked up, not in the Inferno, but in a\ncommonplace jail.\n\n\nNo. 151.\n\n_Open the Gates._\n\nThis game is a variation of the last, and is played similarly, ending\nwith a \"tug of war,\" as described on page 204.\n\n Open the gates as high as the sky,\n And let the King of Spain pass by;\n Choose one,\n Choose two,\n Choose a pretty little girl like you.\n\nMore usual is a shorter rhyme, thus:\n\n Open the gates as high as the sky,\n And let King George and his troops[132] pass by.\n\n\nNo. 152.\n\n_Weighing._\n\nTwo children, linking hands, form a \"basket\" (each grasping with the\nleft hand the right wrist of the other, and with the right hand his\nleft wrist), in which another child is lifted, who embraces with his\narms the necks of his bearers. He is then swung to and fro, and finally\nmade to strike the wall. If he lets go his hold, he is called \"Rotten\negg,\" which is regarded as a highly ignominious name.\n\nThis title is also applied to the child who lets go in the \"tug of war\"\nin \"London Bridge.\" A similar lifting in a basket (as we have been told\nby one who remembered so playing in youth) formed, in Philadelphia,\npart of the same game.\n\nThe original meaning of this exercise is made clear by an Italian\ncounterpart, in which it is called \"Weighing.\" The child after being\nlifted is made to jump over one of the lowered arms of his bearers, and\nif he escapes from their grasp is destined for _Paradise_, otherwise\nfor the _Inferno_. The French usage is the same.[133] Weighing, to\ndecide whether the child should be angel or devil, sometimes forms\npart, also, of the German game corresponding to \"London Bridge.\"\n\nAnother English game shows us a relic of this practice--namely, that\ncalled \"Honey-pots,\" from which, as usual in children's sports, the\noriginal religious idea has disappeared. A child is lifted and swung\nuntil the hold is relaxed, when the _pot_ is said to weigh so many\npounds.[134]\n\nOther tests used in German games to decide whether a child shall be\nan angel or not, are--tickling, in which a sober face must be kept;\njumping over a cord, or measuring the height. These customs of play are\nsurviving forms of usages once equally common in English sports.\n\n\nNo. 153.\n\n_Colors._\n\nA.--A row of children, on the doorsteps of a house, or against a\nchamber wall. Opposite each other stand two girls, representing, one\nthe good, the other the bad, angel. Every child selects a color. The\nmother stands at the foot of the steps. The \"Good Angel\" knocks at the\ndoor (_i.e._, the side of the flight of house-steps), and is answered\nby the mother:\n\n \"Who's knocking at the door?\"\n \"The Angel with the Golden Star.\"\n \"What do you want?\"\n \"Blue\" (or any color).\n\nThe \"Good Angel\" names a color. If this color is represented among\nthe children, the angel takes the child, but if the application is\nunsuccessful, must retire, whereon the \"Bad Angel,\" or the \"Angel with\nthe Pitchfork,\" comes forward in like manner. When all the children are\ndivided, a \"tug of war\" ensues, as in \"London Bridge.\"\n\nThis form of the game is probably a recent translation from the German,\nby New York children.[135]\n\nB.--In the convent-school of Savannah, Ga., as we learn from a former\npupil, birds instead of colors represented the children, and the\nformula was, \"Barn, barn,[136] who comes here?\" It was replied, \"Good\nangel,\" or \"Bad angel.\" The angels then \"fought and tried to get the\nchild.\"\n\nC.--In Philadelphia there is a game in which the children, having\nreceived birds' names, are pursued by the mother, and, if captured, are\nput into the slop-bowl; otherwise, into the sugar-bowl.\n\nSimilarly, in a Swiss game, we have the mother and a bird-catcher. The\nlatter endeavors to guess the titles of the children, who are called\nafter birds or colors. When the name of a child is guessed, she takes\nflight, and if she can escape, returns to the mother; if caught, she\nbelongs to the pursuer, and the game ends with a \"tug of war.\"\n\nCorresponding is the French game of \"Animals.\" The devil and a\npurchaser are first chosen. The seller names the animals, and shuts\nthem up in an enclosure. The devil, who has not heard the naming, comes\nup[137] and guesses the title of the beast. If he guesses right, the\nseller says \"Go!\" while the animal makes a circuit to return to his\nden. The devil must first buy (with so many taps on the palm of the\nhand of the dealer) the beast, before he can pursue. If he catches the\nlatter, he marks him with three blows on the head and tail, and the\nanimal becomes the devil's dog. The game finishes when all the animals\nhave been so captured.\n\nThe conflict which ends this game is curious. In Switzerland, the angel\nwho obtains a child carries it in his arms within his limit, and the\ndevil similarly. After all the children are divided, a struggle begins,\nthe devils defending themselves with claws, the angels with wings. In\nAustria the boundary between Heaven and Hell is marked out by a piece\nof wood, called \"Fire.\" Each child grasps the waist of his predecessor\nwith both arms, the leaders join hands over the \"Fire,\" and the contest\nlasts until all are pulled to one side or the other.\n\nThese battles between opposing supernatural forces rest on a basis\nolder than Christianity. The \"Game of the Shell\" is thus described by\nPollux: \"The shell-game; where the boys draw a line on the ground and\nchoose sides, one side selecting the outside of a shell, the other\nthe inside. One who stands on the line having thrown up the shell,\nwhichever face comes uppermost, those who belong to that give chase,\nand the other party turn and fly. Any fugitive who gets caught is\ncalled the _ass_. He who pitches the shell says, 'Night, day;' for the\noutside is smeared with pitch, and signifies night; whence this boys'\ngame is also called the 'turning of the shell.'\"\n\nThe word _ass_ here means that the boy caught had to carry home his\npursuer on his back.\n\nPlato alludes to this game in the \"Republic,\" saying of the efforts of\nthe soul to pass from the realm of darkness to that of light, \"it does\nnot depend on the turn of a shell.\"\n\nWe thus see the successive mental conceptions of antiquity, the Middle\nAges, and modern time reflected in the changes of children's sports.\n\n\nNo. 154.\n\n_Old Witch._\n\nA.--Ten girls, a mother, a witch, and eight children--namely, Sunday,\nMonday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and the eldest\ndaughter Sue. The mother, preparing to go out, addresses her children:\n\n Now all you children stay at home,\n And be good girls while I am gone;\n Let no one in[138]\n * * * * *\n Especially you, my daughter Sue,\n Or else I'll beat you black and blue.[139]\n\nThe witch knocks at the door, and is refused entrance by the children.\nShe beguiles them by promises to admit her, which they finally do. She\nthen holds out her pipe (a bit of stick), which she carries between\nher teeth, saying to Sue, \"Light my pipe!\" Sue refusing, she makes\nthe same demand to each child, in the order of the days of the week,\nin which they are ranged. All refuse till she reaches the last, who\nconsents and touches her pipe, whereupon the witch seizes her hand, and\ndrags her out of the house to her \"den.\"\n\nThe mother then returns, counts the children, and Sue is questioned and\npunished. This is played over until each child is taken, Sue last.\n\nWhen the mother has lost all her children, the witch calls, and invites\nher to dinner. Upon going to the witch's door, she finds a table set\nfor the meal, and the witch asks her to order a dish to suit her taste.\nShe does so, whereupon the witch produces Sunday, and lays her upon the\ntable, with considerable assistance from Sunday.\n\nA very amusing dialogue now ensues between the witch and the mother.\nThe former urges the mother to eat, with many blandishments, and the\nmother (recognizing her child) declines, with such excuses as any\ningenious child can devise.\n\nThe mother, upon pretence of inability to eat the food, calls for\nanother dish, and, when the witch leaves the room, hurries the child\nfrom the table and places her behind the chair. When the witch returns,\nshe says that she found the dish so good that she ate it all, and calls\nfor another.\n\nEach child is produced in turn, with the same result. When all are\narranged behind their mother, she calls for another dish, and when the\nwitch leaves the room to get it, runs home with all her children.\n\n _Hartford, Conn._\n\n * * * * *\n\nOur second version (B) is from the lips of a little girl in New York\ncity. The persons represented are the same, except that a servant\ninstead of one of the daughters is left to take care of the children.\nScene, the doorsteps, or \"stoop,\" of a New York dwelling-house.\n\n _Mother_ [_sings_]. Chickany, chickany, crany, crow.\n Went to the well to wash her great toe,\n And when she came back her chicken was dead.[140]\n\n [_To Servant_]. I am going out, and let nobody come in.\n\n [_Exit. Enter presently, Witch._\n\n _Witch_ [_to Servant_]. Give me a match to light my pipe.\n\n _Servant._ I haven't any.\n\n _Witch._ Your kettle's boiling over.\n\n _Servant._ No.\n\n _Witch._ Your kettle is boiling over.\n\n _Servant_ [_goes to look_]. _Witch seizes a child and carries her\n off._ [_Re-enter Mother._\n\n _Mother_ [_to servant_]. Where's my Monday?\n\n _Servant._ Under the table.\n\n _Mother_ [_calls_]. Monday!\n\n _Servant._ Up in the band-box![141]\n\n _Mother._ How to get up?\n\n _Servant._ Put two broken chairs on a broken table.\n\n _Mother._ Suppose I should fall and break my neck?\n\n _Servant._ Good enough for you.\n\nMother beats servant, but recovering from her loss, goes out again.\nWitch enters as before, and carries off successively all the children,\nand at last the servant. Witch then puts the children in a row, cooks\nthem, and makes them into pies, naming them apple-pie, peach-pie, etc.\nMother goes out to buy pies.\n\n _Mother_ [_to Witch_]. Have you any pies?\n\n _Witch_. Yes, some very nice apple-pies, which you will like.\n\n _Mother_ [_tastes_]. This tastes like my Monday. [_Re-animates\n Monday_.] Monday, who brought you here? [_Beats her, and sends\n her home._]\n\nThe mother proceeds in the same manner, and brings to life the other\nchildren.\n\nC.--The name of the witch in this variation is \"Old Mother\nCripsy-crops,\" and the game begins by playing No. 89. When the mother\ngoes out, the children call after her, \"Old mother, the kettle boils.\"\nShe answers, \"Take a spoon and stir it.\" \"We haven't got any.\" \"Buy\none.\" \"We have no money.\" \"Borrow,\" says the mother. \"People won't\nlend,\" reply the children.\n\nThe witch comes in, and entices Sunday away by fine promises. When the\nmother comes back, she inquires, \"Where's my Sunday?\" The children make\nsome excuse, as, \"Perhaps he has gone down cellar,\" etc. She tells\nTuesday to take care of Monday, as she had previously placed Monday in\ncharge of Sunday, and goes out again, when the same scene is repeated,\nuntil all the children have been carried off.\n\nThe mother now calls at the witch's house, and asks to be let in. The\nwitch refuses, saying, \"No, your shoes are too dirty.\" \"But I will take\noff my shoes.\" \"Your stockings are too dirty.\" \"Then I will take off my\nstockings.\" \"Your feet are too dirty.\" \"I will cut off my feet.\" \"That\nwould make the carpet all bloody.\" \"But I must see my children, and you\nhave got them.\" \"What should I know about your children? But if you\nlike you may call to-morrow at twelve.\"\n\nThe mother departs, and as soon as she is gone the witch goes to the\nchildren and renames them all. One she calls Mustard, another Pepper,\nanother Salt, another Vinegar, etc. Then she turns their faces to the\nwall, and tells them to give these names if they are asked who they\nare. The mother calls again at the house of the witch, and this time\nis admitted. She asks the children what their names are, and they all\nanswer as they were instructed by the witch. She then asks the first\nchild to let her feel his toe. He puts up his foot, and when the mother\nfeels it she says, \"This is my Sunday! let your big toe carry you\nhome;\" whereupon he runs off. The same process is gone through with all\nthe other children.\n\nD.--To the mother (this time present), in the midst of her children,\napproaches the witch, who comes limping, leaning on a cane. The\ndialogue is between mother and witch.\n\n \"There's old mother Hippletyhop; I wonder what she wants to-day?\"\n \"I want one of your children.\"\n \"Which one do you want?\"\n\nThe witch names any child of the row.\n\n \"What will you give her to eat?\"\n \"Plum-cake\" (a different delicacy for each child).\n\nThe witch carries off the child, and observes: \"Walk as I do, or else\nI'll kill you.\" She takes the child home and kills her, then returns\nfor another. When all are gone the mother goes out to look for her\nchildren. She goes to the witch's house, and finds all the children\n(presumed to be dead) against the wall, making the most horrible faces.\nShe points to a child, and asks, \"What did [Mary] die of?\" \"She died\nof sucking her thumbs\" (naming the child's gesture). Suddenly all the\nchildren come to themselves, and cry out, \"Oh, mother, we are not dead!\"\n\n _Portsmouth, N. H._\n\nE.--In a fifth version, which we have failed to obtain in full, the\nwitch changed the children into birds; and the mother, in order to\nrecover them, must guess the name of the bird. Colors, instead of\nbirds, were also used to represent the children.\n\nF.--We have already spoken of the old English game of \"Honey-pots\" as\nan imitation of \"Weighing.\" This trait, however, as might be supposed\nfrom its insignificant character, is a mere fragment of the original.\nIn London (as we learn from an informant of the laboring class, who\nremembers taking part in the amusement), a child as market-woman\narranges the rest in a row to indicate honey-pots, each with its\nspecific flavor. While she is busy at one end of the row, a thief comes\nin and steals a pot from the other end. This process is repeated, until\nall the pots are taken. The dealer then goes out to buy honey-pots, and\nrecognizes her own by the flavor, so recovering the stolen goods.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThis game without doubt is the most curious of our collection, both\non account of its own quaintness, and because of the extraordinary\nrelation in which it stands to the child's lore of Europe. We have, in\na note, endeavored to show that our American versions give the most\nancient and adequate representation now existing of a childish drama\nwhich has diverged into numerous branches, and of which almost every\ntrait has set up for itself as an independent game. Several of these\noffshoots are centuries old, and exist in many European tongues; while,\nso far as appears, their original has best maintained itself in the\nchildish tradition of the New World.\n\nAmong a great number of German forms, only one (from Suabia) nearly\ncorresponds to ours, with the exception of a corrupted ending.\n\nIn this childish drama a mother has many children, who sleep. In her\nabsence comes \"Old Urschel\" with her two daughters, the \"Night-maidens\"\n(a sort of fairies), who steal three children, and carry them off\nto their cave (hiding them behind their extended dresses). The\nmother visits Urschel's abode to complain of the theft, but the\n\"Night-maidens,\" with deprecating gestures, deny any knowledge of the\nlost. The action is then repeated, the eldest daughter (who plays the\nsame part as in our first version) being taken last.\n\nWhen the mother's complaints are useless, she becomes a witch. The\nnext day Urschel takes her stolen family for a walk. The mother comes\nup and pulls the dress of a child; by her magic art all feel it at the\nsame time, and cry to Urschel, \"Oh, mother, somebody is pulling my\ngown!\" The latter replies, \"It must be a dog.\" The mother then asks\nand obtains leave to join the party, but endeavors to bewitch (or\ndisenchant) her children, who cry, \"The Witch of London!\" and scatter,\nbut are captured by the latter and turned into witches.[142]\n\nIn Sweden the mother is called \"Lady Sun.\" An old woman enters, propped\non a cane, goes to Lady Sun's house and knocks. \"Who is that knocking\nat my door?\" \"An old woman, halt and blind, asks the way to Lady Sun;\nis she at home?\" \"Yes.\" The old woman points out a child, and asks,\n\"Dear Lady Sun, may I have a chicken?\" She is refused at first, but\nby piteous entreaties obtains her wish, and returns, until all the\n\"chickens\" are carried off. \"She was not so lame as she made believe,\"\nsays Lady Sun, looking after her.\n\nThe antiquity of our game is sufficiently attested by the wide\ndiffusion of many of its comparatively recent variations. We remark,\nfurther, that the idea of the child-eating demon, so prominently\nbrought forward in our American versions, is a world-old nursery\nconception. The ancients were well acquainted with such feminine\nsupernatural beings. \"More fond of children than Gello,\" says Sappho,\nreferring to an imaginary creature of the sort. The most ancient view\nof this passion for stealing children was, that it was prompted by the\nappetite. Tales of ogres and ogresses, who carried off and devoured\nyoung children, must have been as familiar in the Roman nursery as in\nour own.\n\nThe trait of _limping_, characteristic of \"witches\" in games, is\nequally ancient. That such demons are defective in one foot is\nexpressed by the ancient Greek name \"Empusa\" (literally One-foot), to\nwhom was attributed an ass's hoof, a representation which contributed\nto the medi\u00e6val idea of the devil. A child's game, in which a boy,\narmed with a knotted handkerchief, pursues his comrades, hopping on\none foot, is known in France as \"The Limping Devil.\"[143] This game\nexisted also in ancient Greece.\n\nThe reanimation and recovery of the children, with which the American\nperformance closes, is a familiar trait of ancient nursery tales.\n\n\nNo. 155.\n\n_The Ogree's Coop._\n\nHalf a century since, in eastern Massachusetts, it was a pastime of\nboys and girls for one of the number to impersonate an _Ogree_[144]\n(as the word was pronounced), who caught his playmates, put them in a\ncoop, and fattened them for domestic consumption. From time to time\nthe Ogree felt his captives to ascertain if they were fat enough to be\ncooked. Now and then a little boy would thrust from between the bars\nof his cage a stick instead of a finger, whereupon the ogree would be\nsatisfied of his leanness.\n\n\nNo. 156.\n\n_Tom Tidler's Ground._\n\nA boundary line marks out \"Tom Tidler's Ground,\" on which stands a\nplayer. The rest intrude on the forbidden precinct, but if touched must\ntake his place. The words of the challenge are--\n\n I'm on Tommy Tidler's ground,\n Picking up gold and silver.\n\nOr, dialectically, \"_Tickler's_ not at home.\"\n\nThis Eldorado has many different local names--_Van Diemen's land_ in\nConnecticut; _Dixie's land_ in New York, an expression which antedates\nthe war; _Judge Jeffrey's land_, in Devonshire, England; _Golden\nPavement_, in Philadelphia.\n\nIn the Southern States, \"Tommy Tidler's Ground\" is the name of the\nspot where the rainbow rests, and where it is supposed by children that\na pot of gold is buried. A highly intelligent Georgian assures us that\nas a boy he has often searched for the treasure, but could never find\nthe spot where the rainbow touched the ground.\n\n\"Tommy Tidler\" represents the jealous fairy or dwarf who attacks any\nwho approach his treasure.\n\n\nNo. 157.\n\n_Dixie's Land._\n\nThis is a variety of the last game, in which a monarch instead of a\nfairy is the owner of the ground trespassed upon. A line having been\ndrawn, to bound \"Dixie's Land,\" the players cross the frontier with the\nchallenge:\n\n On Dixie's land I'll take my stand,\n And live and die in Dixie.\n\nThe king of Dixie's Land endeavors to seize an invader, whom he must\nhold long enough to repeat the words,\n\n Ten times one are ten,\n You are one of my men.\n\nAll so captured must assist the king in taking the rest.\n\nThe word \"man\" seems to be used in the ancient sense of subject, as\nin the Scotch formula, where one boy takes another by the forelock (a\nreminiscence of serfdom), saying,\n\n Tappie, tappie, tousie, will you be my man?\n\nThe game is played in much the same manner in Germany, with a rhyme\nwhich may be translated:\n\n King, I'm standing on your land,\n I steal your gold and silver-sand.\n\n\nNo. 158.\n\n_Ghost in the Cellar._\n\nOne of the children represents a ghost, and conceals himself in the\ncellar. Another takes the part of a mother, who is addressed by one of\nher numerous family:\n\n \"Mother, I see a ghost.\"\n \"It was only your father's coat hanging up.\"\n\nMother goes down with a match. Ghost appears. Terror and flight.\nWhoever is caught becomes the ghost for the next turn.\n\nA similar game is played in London, called (we are told) \"Ghost in the\nCopper.\"\n\nThe original of the \"ghost\" appears in the corresponding German game,\nwhere we find in his stead the \"evil spirit,\" who haunts the garden.\n\n\nNo. 159.\n\n_The Enchanted Princess._\n\nThis interesting European game, though never naturalized in this\ncountry, has been occasionally played as a literal translation from the\nprinted French. A little girl raises above her head her frock, which\nis sustained by her companions, who thus represent the tower in which\nshe is supposed to be confined. The \"enemy\" comes up, and asks, \"Where\nis pretty Margaret?\" The answer is, \"She is shut up in her tower.\" The\n\"enemy\" carries off one by one the stones of the tower (leads away,\nthat is, the girls who personate stones), until one only is left, who\ndrops the frock, and flies, pursued by Margaret, who must catch some\none to replace her.\n\nThe celebrated French song begins, \"Where is fair Margaret, Ogier,\nnoble knight?\"[145] \"Ogier\" is none other than Olger the Dane, hero\nof medi\u00e6val romance. The childish drama is one form of the world-old\nhistory of a maiden who is delivered by a champion from the enchanted\ncastle. In the territory of Cambrai, she who is shut up in the tower\nis said to be \"the fair one with the golden locks.\" We consider the\nfollowing number to be a variation of the same theme.\n\n\nNo. 160.\n\n_The Sleeping Beauty._\n\nAbout fifty years since, in a town of Massachusetts (Wrentham), the\nyoung people were in the habit of playing an exceedingly rustic\nkissing-game. A girl in the centre of the ring simulated sleep, and the\nwords were--\n\n There was a young lady sat down to sleep;\n She wants a young gentleman to wake her up;\n Mr. ---- ---- shall be his name.\n\nThe awakening was then effected by a kiss.\n\nThe same game comes to us as a negro sport from Galveston, Texas, but\nin a form which shows it to be the corruption of an old English round:\n\n Here we go round the _strawberry bush_,\n This cold and frosty morning.\n\n Here's a young lady sat down to sleep,\n This cold and frosty morning.\n\n She wants a young gentleman to wake her up,\n This cold and frosty morning.\n\n Write his name and send it by me,\n This cold and frosty morning.\n\n Mr. ---- his name is called,\n This cold and frosty morning.\n\n Arise, arise, upon your feet,\n This cold and frosty morning.\n\nSome unintelligible negro rhymes follow.\n\nThe refrain of the last version indicates that it is of old English\norigin, and was used as a May-game.\n\nIt would appear, from the character of the round, that various\nnames are proposed to the sleeping girl, which she rejects until a\nsatisfactory one is presented. At all events, this is the case in a\nProven\u00e7al game which we take to be of the same origin as ours. In this\ngame it is explained that the girl is not asleep, but counterfeiting\ndeath. \"Alas! what shall we give our sister? N. N. to be her husband.\"\n\nA favorite French round describes the maiden as asleep \"in the tower.\"\nThe pretty song represents her as awakened by the rose her lover\nhas left upon her breast. Though there is no very close resemblance\nbetween this and the Proven\u00e7al game, the same idea of deliverance from\nenchantment appears to underlie both.\n\nWe infer, therefore, that the game, apparently so natural an invention,\noriginally represented some form of the world-wide story of the\n\"Sleeping Beauty.\" If this be so, to explain its history would lead us\nto write of Northern lay and medi\u00e6val legend; we should have to examine\nthe natural symbolism of primitive religions, and the loves of ancient\ngods. The kissing-romp of a New England village would be connected with\nthe poetry and romance of half the world.\n\nIn any case, this interlinking of the New World with all countries and\nages, by the golden network of oral tradition, may supply the moral of\nour collection.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[127] Die Holl\u00e4ndisch' Br\u00fcck'.\n\n[128] Mrs. R. W. Emerson, of Concord, Mass.\n\n[129] From Prof. G. J. Webb, now of New York, who learned it from his\nmother, in the Isle of Wight, his birthplace.\n\n[130] As the last verse is sung, the raised arms of the two directors\nof the game descend, and enclose the child who happens to be passing at\nthe time. The prisoner is then led, still confined by the arms of her\ncaptors, to the corner which represents the prison. After this she must\nchoose as described on page 204, and the two sides finally pull against\neach other. Our informant well remembers how seriously the matter was\ntaken, and how disturbed and disgraced she felt when arrested and\nimprisoned.\n\n[131] We have obtained a nearly identical, but more fragmentary version\nfrom Waterford, Ireland, with a refrain that seems a corruption of that\nbelonging to the ordinary English song; thus--\n\n London Bridge is broken down,\n _Fair lady!_\n How shall we build it up again?\n _Grand says the little dear._\n\nWe have also, from an Irish domestic, a most curious account of the\nuse of the latter version in the town named. Agreeing, as it does,\nin essential respects with the character which the European game now\npossesses, and which the English game once evidently possessed, we do\nnot doubt its general correctness; but we have had no opportunity to\nverify the statement of the somewhat inconsequent informant.\n\nAn actual bridge was built up with sticks and boards, and surrounded\nby the ring of players, dressed in costume; without stood the Devil.\nLittle girls in variously colored dresses represented the angels.\n\nThe repeated fall and rebuilding of the bridge was acted out, as\ndescribed in the verses of the song; this fall was ascribed to the\nmalice of the Devil, who ruined it _during the night_ (watching it,\nsaid the narrator, from the top of an ash-tree during the day).\n\nThe imprisonment of the child enclosed by the arms of the leaders was\nacted out as described in the note on page 208, but in a noteworthy\nfashion. A chain was taken, and wrapped round the child, in the form\nof a serpent (for the Devil _is_ a serpent, said the reciter); the\ncaptive was taken to a hut (representing apparently the entrance to the\nInferno) built by the sea. Meantime, the rest of the train called on\ntheir leader for help; but he answered, \"the Devil has five feet, and\nthirteen eyes, and is stronger than I!\" The performance lasted five\nhours; and the name of the edifice was the Devil's Bridge.\n\nIn this Irish game, tests were employed to determine whether the\ncaptive should belong to the Devil or not. One of these was the ability\nto walk on a straight line drawn on the ground.\n\nOn the windows of French medi\u00e6val churches devils may be seen\nsurrounding the condemned with a great chain, which they use to drag\nthem into their clutches.\n\n[132] Or, his _wife_.\n\n[133]\n\n \u00c0 l'\u00e9payelle (that is, in the _basket_)\n Tout du long de ciel,\n Tout du long du paradis,\n Saut'! Saut'! Saut souris!\n\n[134] See No. 154, E, and note.\n\n[135] Game of New York German children: \"Wer ist daraus?\" \"Der Engel\nmit dem goldenen Strauss.\" \"Was will er?\" \"Eine Farbe.\" \"Was f\u00fcr eine?\"\n\"Blau,\" etc. Then \"Der Engel mit dem Feuerhaken\" comes forward, and so\non, \"bis alle Farben fort sind.\"\n\n[136] An imitation of knocking. Italian, Din-din; French, pan! pan! etc.\n\n[137] The dialogue is: \"Pan! pan!\" \"Qui est-ce qui est la?\" \"C'est le\ndiable avec sa fourche.\" \"Que veut-il?\" \"Un animal.\" \"Entrez.\"\n\n[138] A line and a half are wanting.\n\n[139]\n\n \"I charge my daughters every one,\n To keep good house while I am gone.\n _You_ and _you_ [points] but specially _Sue_,\n Or else I'll beat you black and blue.\"\n\nFrom \"Nursery Rhymes of England,\" where it is said to be a game of\nthe Gypsy, who \"during the mother's absence comes in, entices a child\naway, and hides her. This process is repeated till all the children are\nhidden, when the mother has to find them.\"\n\n[140] This verse is borrowed from another game, No. 102. The drama\nopens with a foreboding. The prophetic soul of the mother uses the\nlament of a hen who has lost one of her brood.\n\n[141] Or any elevated position. Also, _in heaven_.\n\n[142] This Urschel is a mythologic character. When the children of\nPf\u00fcllingen climb the Urschelberg, where she lives, each child deposits\non a certain stone two or three horn buttons as an offering. On\nreturning, they observe whether she has not taken them away; and, even\nif the buttons remain, they are sure that she has taken pleasure in\nthem. When they pass a certain slope they roll down perforated stones\n(called \"suns\"), and the child whose \"sun\" rolls farthest says with\npride, \"Urschel liked my present best.\"\n\nUrschel passes for an enchanted maiden, whose original name was Prisca.\nEvery four centuries she plants a beech-tree for the cradle of the\nyouth whose love is at last to release her. The chosen shepherd sees\nher sitting by the road-side, in the shape of an old woman, dressed in\ngreen gown and red stockings. But none has ever dared to wed her for\nthe sake of the castle and treasure she offers.\n\n[143] \"Le Diable Bo\u00eeteux.\"\n\n[144] \"An Ogree is a giant with long teeth and claws, with a Raw Head\nand Bloody Bones, and runs away with naughty boys and girls, and eats\nthem all up.\"--Story of the \"Sleeping Beauty,\" as given in an old\nchap-book.\n\n[145]\n\n O\u00f9 est la belle Marguerite,\n Ogier, beau chevalier?\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX\n\n\nCOLLECTIONS OF CHILDREN'S GAMES.\n\nThe following is a list of collections of popular games of children, or\ncollections containing such, consulted in preparing the present volume,\nand referred to in the notes by the names of the editors:\n\n BRAND, J. Popular Antiquities of Great Britain. With corrections\n and additions by W. Carew Hazlitt. (Lond. 1870, 3 vols.) The\n same, arranged and revised by Henry Ellis. (Lond. 1813, 2\n vols.; new ed. 1849.)\n\n CHAMBERS, R. Popular Rhymes of Scotland. (New ed. Edinb. 1870;\n 1st ed. 1842.)\n\n HALLIWELL [PHILLIPS], J. O. The Nursery Rhymes of England. (6th\n ed. Lond. 1860; 1st ed. 1842; 2d ed. 1843.)\n\n Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales. (Lond. 1849.)\n\n STRUTT, J. The Sports and Pastimes of the People of England.\n (Lond. 1801.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n BEL\u00c8ZE, G. Jeux des Adolescents. (Paris, 1873.)\n\n BUJEAUD, J. Chants et Chansons Populaires des Provinces de\n l'Ouest. (Niort, 1866, 2 vols.)\n\n CELNART, MADAME. Manuel Complet des Jeux de Soci\u00e9t\u00e9. (2d ed.\n Paris, 1830.)\n\n CHABREUL, MADAME DE. Jeux et Exercises des Jeunes Filles. (2d ed.\n Paris, 1860.)\n\n DUMERSAN, M. Chansons et Rondes Enfantines. (Paris, 1858.)\n\n DURIEUX, A., and BRUYELLE, A. Chants et Chansons Pop. du\n Cambresis. (Cambrai, 1864-68, 2 vols.)\n\n GAGNON, E. Chansons Pop. du Canada. (Quebec, 1880.)\n\n GAIDOZ, H., and ROLLAND, E. M\u00e9lusine. Recueil de Myth., Lit Pop.,\n Trad., et Usages. (Paris, 1878.)\n\n KUHFF, P. Les Enfantines du Bon Pays de France. (Paris, 1878.)\n\n PUYMAIGRE, T. J. B. DE. Chants Pop. Rec. dans le Pays Messin.\n (Paris, 1865; 2d ed. 1881.)\n\n TARB\u00c9, P. Romancero de Champagne. (Reims, 1843, 5 vols.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n ARBAUD, D. Chants Pop. de la Provence. (Aix, 1862. 2 vols.)\n\n MONTEL, A., and LAMBERT, L. Chants Pop. du Languedoc. (Paris,\n 1880.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n COELHO, F. A. Romances Pop. e Rimas Infant\u00eds Portuguezes. (Zeit.\n f. Rom. Phil. vol. iii. 1879.)\n\n MARIN, F. R. Cantos Pop. Espa\u00f1oles, Tomo 1. Rimas Infantiles.\n (Sevilla, 1882.)\n\n MASPONS Y LABR\u00d3S, F. Jochs de la Infancia. (Barcelona, 1874.)\n\n VILLABRILLE, F. Los Juegos de la Infancia. (Madrid, 1847.)\n Contains little of a popular character.\n\n * * * * *\n\n BERNONI, G. Guiochi Pop. Veneziani. (Venezia, 1874.)\n\n CORAZZINI, F. I Componimenti Minori della Letteratura Pop. Ital.\n (Benevento, 1877.)\n\n DALMEDICO A. Ninne-nanne e Guiochi Infantili Veneziani. (Venezia,\n 1871.)\n\n FERRARO, G. Canti Pop. di Ferrara, etc. (Ferrara, 1877.)\n\n Cinquanta Guiochi Fanciulleschi Monferrini. In Archivio per lo\n Studio delle Trad. Pop. G. Pitr\u00e8, S. Salomone-Mario. Fasc.\n I., II. (Palermo, 1882.)\n\n GIANANDREA, A. S. Saggio di Guiochi e Canti fanciulleschi delle\n Marche. In Vol. I. of Rivista di Letteratura Pop., G. Pitr\u00e8,\n F. Sabatini. (Roma, 1877.)\n\n IMBRIANI, V. Canti Pop. Avellinesi. (Bologna, 1874.)\n\n Canzonetti Infantili Pomiglianesi. In Vol. X. of Il\n Propugnatore. (Bologna, 1877.)\n\n IVE, A. Canti Pop. Istriani. In Vol. V. of Canti e Racconti del\n Pop. Ital., D. Comparetti and A. D'Ancona. (Torino, 1877.)\n\n PITR\u00c8, G. Canti Pop. Siciliani. (Palermo, 1870-71, 2 vols.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n COUSSEMAKER, C. E. DE. Chants Pop. des Flamands de France. (Gand,\n 1856.)\n\n HOFFMANN VON FALLERSLEBEN, A. H. Horae Belgicae. (2d Aus.\n Hannover, 1866.)\n\n LOOTENS, A., and FEYS, J. Chants Pop. Flamands rec. \u00e0 Bruges.\n (Bruges, 1879.)\n\n WILLEMS, J. F. Oude Vlaemsche Liederen. (Gent, 1848.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n Aus dem Kinderleben, Spiele, Reime, R\u00e4thsel. (Oldenburg, 1851.)\n\n Baslerische Kinder-und Volks-Reime. (Basel, 187-.)\n\n BIRLINGER, A. Nimm mich mit! Kinderb\u00fcchlein. (Freiburg, 1871.)\n\n DUNGER, H. Kinderlieder und Kinderspiele aus dem Vogtlande.\n (Plauen, 1874.)\n\n FEIFALIK, J. Kinderreime und Kinderspiele aus M\u00e4hren. (Zeit. f.\n deutsch Myth., Vol. IV.)\n\n FIEDLER, E. Volksreime und Volkslieder in Anhalt Dessau. (Dessau,\n 1847.)\n\n FRISCHBIER, H. Preussische Volksreime und Volksspiele. (Berlin,\n 1867.)\n\n HANDELMANN, H. Volks-und Kinder-Spiele aus Schleswig-Holstein.\n (Kiel, 1874.)\n\n KEHREIN, J. Volkssprache und Volkssitte im Herzogthum Nassau.\n (Weilburg, 1862, 2 vols.)\n\n MANNHARDT, W. Germanische Mythen. (Berlin, 1858.)\n\n MEIER, E. Deutsche Kinderreime und Kinderspiele aus Schwaben.\n (T\u00fcbingen, 1851.)\n\n MULLENHOFF, K. Sagen, M\u00e4rchen, und Lieder d. Herzogth\u00fcmer\n Schleswig-Holstein und Lauenburg. (Kiel, 1845.)\n\n PETER, A. Volkst\u00fcmliches aus \u00d6sterreichisch-Schlesien. (Troppau,\n 1867, 2 vols.)\n\n ROCHHOLZ, E. L. Alemannisches Kinderlied und Kinderspiel.\n (Leipzig, 1857.)\n\n SCHUSTER, F. W. Siebenb\u00fcrgisch-S\u00e4chsische Volkslieder.\n (Herrmannstadt, 1865.)\n\n SIMROCK, K. Das deutsche Kinderbuch. (Frankfurt am Main, 1857.)\n\n STOEBER, A. Els\u00e4ssisches Volksb\u00fcchlein. (Strasburg, 1842.)\n\n VERNALEBEN, T., and BRANKY, F. Spiele und Reime der Kinder in\n Oesterreich. (Wien, 1873.)\n\n Wiegenlieder, Ammenreime und Kinderstuben-Scherze in\n plattdeutscher Mundart. (Bremen, 1859.)\n\n Zeitschrift f\u00fcr deutsche Myth. und Sittenkunde, I.-IV.\n (G\u00f6ttingen, 1853-59.)\n\n ZINGERLE, J. V. Das deutsche Kinderspiel im Mittelalter. (2d ed.\n Innsbruck, 1873.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n ARWIDDSON, A. I. Svenska Forns\u00e5nger. (Stockholm, 1842, 3 vols.)\n\n DJURKLOU, G. Ur Nerike's Folkspr\u00e5k och Folklif. (\u00d6rebro, 1860.)\n\n DYBECK, R. Runa, En Skrift f\u00f6r f\u00e4dernes-landets fornv\u00e4nner.\n (Stockholm, 1842-49.)\n\n GRUNDTVIG SVEND. Gamle Danske Minder i Folkemunde. (Copenhagen,\n 1854. New Series, 1857.)\n\n Danske Folkeminder. (Copenhagen, 1861.)\n\n HAMMERSHAIMB, V. U. Faer\u00f6iske Skikke og Lege. (Antiquarisk\n Tidsskrift, Copenhagen 1849-51.)\n\n THIELE, J. M. Danske Folkesagn. (Copenhagen, 1820-23, 4 vols.)\n\n WIGSTROM, EVA. Folkdiktning. (Copenhagen, 1880.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n BEZSONOFF, A. Dyetskia Pyesni. Songs of (Russian) Children.\n (Moscow, 1868.)\n\n MOZAROWSKI, A. Svyatochnoia Pyesni. Christmas Games of the\n Government of Kazan (Kazan, 1873.)\n\n VRCEVIC, V. Sprske Narodne Igre. Servian Popular Games (Belgrade,\n 1868.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n NEUS, H. Ehstnische Volkslieder. (Reval, 1850.)\n\n\nCOMPARISONS AND REFERENCES.\n\nThe object of the following notes is to exhibit, in a clear manner, the\nextent of the correspondence between the games of American children\nand those belonging to children in other countries. This volume is not\nintended to include all games of children, but (with some exceptions\nin favor of certain amusements which possess interest as folk-lore)\nonly such as are played with words or quaint formulas. Of games of this\nclass, we find in the collections very few known to children in Great\nBritain, and possessing European diffusion, which are not represented\nin this series by independent American versions (see No. 160, note,\nend). With these exceptions, the British game-formulas to which\nAmerican usage does not offer equivalents are local and of trifling\ninterest. The references given below may, therefore, be considered as a\ncomparative account of English children's games in general.\n\nThe coincidence which this comparison shows to exist between\nEnglish and German games is very close. Taking three German\ncollections--belonging respectively to Switzerland (Rochholz), to\nSuabia (Meier), and to Schleswig-Holstein (Handelmann)--and leaving\nout of account songs and ballads, we have about eighty games played\nwith rhymes or formulas. Of this number, considering only cases of\nobvious identity, we estimate that forty-five have equivalents in the\npresent series, and thirty-three are not so paralleled. But of the\nlatter class, six are known to have been played in Great Britain, while\nthirteen others appear to be variations of types represented in this\ncollection. Of the small number remaining, few seem to be ancient, it\nbeing impossible to point out more than three or four really curious\ngames which are not played also in an English form. This agreement\ncannot be explained by inheritance from a common stock, a theory which\nresearch has also discredited in other branches of folk-lore. The\nrelationship is only a degree less near in other countries; thus, in a\ncollection of Spanish games belonging to Catalonia (Maspons y Labr\u00f3s),\nwe find that, out of thirty-eight games, twenty-five have English\nequivalents.\n\n\nNOTES TO INTRODUCTION.\n\nCAROL, p. 9. Middle Latin _Choraula_, from _choreola_. The word\n_coraula_ is still used to denote the ring-dance in Switzerland; also\n_coreihi_, to leap (choreare), Rochholz, p. 371. Russian _chorom_, a\nround of children, Bezsonoff, p. 190.\n\nMAY-GAMES, pp. 16-19. Tarb\u00e9, \"Romancero de Champagne,\" ii. 61.\nPuymaigre, p. 201, \"Trimazos.\" A. Rivinus, \"De Majumis,\" etc., in\nGraevius, Syntagma (Utrecht, 1702).\n\nGAMES CITED BY FROISSART (pp. 34, 35).--The passage here rendered\n(with the omission of two or three obscure names of amusements) is\nfrom \"L'Espinette Amoureuse,\" l. 143-338, 35-47. Many of the games\nmentioned cannot now be recognized from the titles given. Others,\nhowever, can be identified; thus, _Queue loo loo_ (keuve leu leu) is\nNo. 106 of the present collection; _Oats_ (avainne), No. 21; _Scorn or\nDerision_ (ris\u00e9es), perhaps No. 61; _King who does not lie_, perhaps\nNo. 55; _Grasses_ (erbelette), No. 42; _Cligne-musette_ (Cluignette),\nNo. 105; _Pince-merine_, according to Menagier de Paris, lxxvii., the\nsame as _Pince-sans-rire_, No. 77, C. _Playing with nuts_, No. 144;\n_Throwing pence_, etc., No. 144, B. _Pebbles_ (pierettes), No. 137,\nor No. 148. _Hook_ (havot), perhaps _Hockey_, No. 136. _Mule_, a kind\nof leapfrog, still played in Italy, _Salta-muletta_, Gianandrea, No.\n30. A species of this game in Philadelphia is now called _Saults_.\nReplies (r\u00e9ponniaux), a sort of _Hide and seek_, No. 105, in which the\nconcealed person indicates his whereabouts in answer to a call; see\nsame poem, l. 2653. _Astonishment_ (esbahi), a game which consisted in\nimitating that emotion; thus, when the horses of a party have given out\nunexpectedly--\"I should think we were playing at Astonishment,\" says\none of the cavaliers, looking at the faces of the rest (Dict. of La\nCurne de Sainte-Palaye, art. \"Esbahi\"). On the whole, the impression\nwhich the catalogue gives us, is that the sports of a child in the\nMiddle Ages were very similar to those of to-day, or, perhaps we should\nrather say, of yesterday.\n\nLOVE-GAMES (p. 39).--This is an old name for games representing or\noffering opportunity for courtship, as \"love-songs\" is for ballads.\nWe have heard both expressions in New England, from the lips of\naged persons, in whose youth they were current. See the Gentleman's\nMagazine, Feb. 1738.\n\n\nNOTES TO GAMES.\n\n No. 1. English versions are numerous. Halliwell, Nurs. Rh. (6th\n ed.), Nos. 332, 333. Pop. Rh., pp. 123, 124. Chambers, p.\n 143; p. 141, \"Janet jo.\" Notes and Queries, 1st ser. VI.\n 241; 5th ser. IV. 51, 157.--_German_, Meier, p. 107 (cited),\n 109: Handelmann, p. 62. Vernaleken, p. 55, etc.--_Swedish_,\n Arwiddson, iii. 175 f.--_Icelandic_, Arwiddson, iii. 182.\n Lyngbye, Faer\u00f6iske Quaeder, p. 37, introd. note.--_Faroese_,\n Antiq. Tids., 1849-51, p. 310, \"Princes riding,\" compare No.\n 3.--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 43, \"L'Imbasciatore.\" Gianandrea,\n No. 23, \"Il bel Castello.\"--_Spanish_ (Catalan), Maspons y\n Labr\u00f3s, p. 47, \"La Conversa del rey Moro.\"--_French_, Ch. du\n Cambresis, i. 80.\n\n 2. A variety of No. 1. Corresponding is the _Faroese_ version\n referred to, in which the suitors, after rejection as\n thralls, smiths, etc., are finally accepted as princes,\n with the expression \"tak vid\" (literally \"take with\"), be\n welcome, which may explain the peculiar use of the word\n \"take\" in our rhyme.\n\n 3. Also a variety of No. 1. Folk-lore Record, iii. 170.\n Chambers, p. 139 (cited). \"I am a lusty wooer\" (the version\n referred to, p. 49, note) is said to have been played by\n Charles II. See the Gentleman's Magazine, Feb. 1738; Nurs.\n Rh., No. 491.\n\n 4. Henderson, Folk-lore of the Northern Counties (Lond. 1879),\n p. 27. Compare French round in Celnart, p. 24.\n\n 5. Nurs. Rh., No. 479. Compare No. 31.\n\n 6. Nurs. Rh., No. 466, \"The Keys of Canterbury.\" Chambers, p.\n 61, \"The Tempted Lady.\"\n\n 7. _French_, Celnart, p. 15, sixth round, presents verbal\n correspondence.\n\n 8. These versions belong to a game, widely diffused through\n Europe, in which a \"rich\" mother begs away, one by one, the\n daughters of a \"poor\" mother, until she has secured them\n all.--_German_, Frischbier, No. 657.--_French_, Chabreul, p.\n 175, \"Riche et Pauvre.\" Celnart, p. 382, \"Oliv\u00e9 Beauv\u00e9 et la\n voisine.\" Ch. du Camb., i. 77, \"La Boiteuse.\" The celebrated\n song \"Girofl\u00e9 Girofl\u00e0\" is of the same origin. In the\n Canadian round (Gagnon, p. 149), and in the English rhyme,\n for the sake of the dance, the mother whose daughters are\n begged away or stolen is turned into a mother whose object\n is to marry her many daughters; so the _Swedish_ (Arwiddson,\n iii. 203), which presents verbal correspondence to the\n English song of our collection. Arwiddson, iii. 167, game of\n \"Rich and Poor Birds.\" The first comes in limping, leaning\n on a cane, and with piteous gestures begs the train of the\n other. By comparing No. 154, and note, it will be seen that\n all the above games make up a single branch of the numerous\n outgrowths of a primitive root, which is responsible for no\n small part of the amusements of youth in Europe. Compare\n Nurs. Rh., No. 343.\n\n 10. Connected is a European game representing\n courtship--meeting, saluting, parting, etc.--_German_,\n Frischbier, No. 674.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii.\n 257.--_Flemish_, Looten and Feys, No. 113. A different but\n related game is _French_, Celnart, p. 14 (cited). Chabreul,\n p. 157. Gagnon, p. 151.--_Italian_, Corazzini, p. 84.--The\n words \"Rowe the boat\" begin a waterman's roundel, A.D. 1453;\n see Chappell's Pop. Music of the Olden Time, p. 482.--(4.)\n _French_, Ch. du Camb., i. 221 (cited).\n\n 11. Chambers, p. 140, \"Janet jo.\" Folk-lore Record, iii.\n 171, \"Jenny Jones.\" See Coussemaker, p. 100, Flemish\n \"Maiden's Dance.\"--Bernoni, Cant. Pop. Venez. xi. 2,\n \"Rosetina.\"--Roxburghe Coll. i. 186-189, Ballad of \"The\n Bride's Buriall.\"\n\n 12. Compare N. and Q., 3d ser. VII. 353.\n\n 13. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 133. Henderson, Folk-lore, p. 26.\n\n 15. N. and Q., 5th ser. III. 482.--French round cited, Ch. du\n Camb., ii. 58. Gagnon, p. 303 (cited, p. 8). Bugeaud, i. 202.\n\n 16. Chambers, p. 118.--_French_, Ch. du Camb., ii. 42.\n\n 17. _Danish_ and _Swedish_ ballads, Sv. Grundtvig, Danmarks\n Gamle Folkeviser, Nos. 180, 181.\n\n 18. Child, Eng. and Scot. Ballads, 1857, iii. 136.\n\n 19. Child, ii. 154.\n\n 20. _Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii. 196.\n\n 21. _French_, Celnart, p. 21, etc.--_Proven\u00e7al_, see Fauriel,\n Hist. de la Po\u00e9sie Prov., ii. 87.--_Spanish_ (Catalan), Mila\n y Fontanals, Romanc. Cat., p. 173.--_Italian_, Bernoni,\n p. 37. (Sicily) Pitr\u00e8, ii. 33.--_German_, Meier, pp. 136,\n 137.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii. 326.--Rounds of a similar\n type, Chabreul, p. 146, \"Salade.\" Bugeaud, i. 48, \"Plantons\n la Vigne.\"\n\n 22. _German_, Dunger, pp. 184-186. Mullenhoff, p. 484, No. 2.\n \"Aus dem Kinderleben,\" p. 33.--_Finnish_, Neus, p. 387.\n\n 23. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 127. Chambers, p. 134.\n\n 25. A variation of 23, 24. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 130.\n Chambers, p. 135.--_French_, Gagnon, p. 99. Chabreul, p.\n 141, etc.--_Spanish_, Marin, i. 96, \"Thus do the Shoemakers.\"\n\n 26. Folk-lore Rec., iii. 170. Compare French game, Ch. du Camb.,\n i. 223.\n\n 28. Nurs. Rh., No. 287.\n\n 29. Folk-lore Rec., iii. 169. For French game referred to, see\n Laisnel de la Salle, ii. 151.--_French_, Celnart, p. 53,\n \"L'Anguille Enfil\u00e9e.\"\n\n 30. Compare Proven\u00e7al nurse-songs, in Chants Pop. du Languedoc,\n \"Chants \u00e9numeratifs,\" especially p. 432.\n\n 31. Compare No. 5.\n\n 32. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 119, \"Mary Brown.\" N. and Q., 6th\n ser. II. 248.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii. 233.--_Finnish_,\n Neus, p. 388.--_Italian_, Comparetti, iv. 263.--_French_,\n M\u00e9lusine, p. 542.\n\n 33. Chambers, p. 25. N. and Q., 4th ser. II. 274.--_Flemish_,\n _Dutch_, _German_, Hor. Belg., ii., Nos. 143, 145.--_French_\n (Canada), Gagnon, p. 129.\n\n 34. Nurs. Rh., No. 290. To this class of jests belongs the\n German tale, Grimm, No. 119, \"Die sieben Schwaben.\"\n\n 35. Chambers, p. 344. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 218, quotes the\n first lines of this rhyme from Aubrey's Miscellanies, ed.\n 1696.\n\n 36. Compare Chambers, p. 137, \"A Courtship Dance.\"--_French_,\n Celnart, p. 19.--Canadian song of Perrette, Gagnon, p. 286.\n\n 38. For way of playing, compare No. 22.\n\n 40. Chappell, Pop. Music of the Olden Time, p. 589.--_French_\n (Canada), Gagnon, p. 223.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii. 369.\n\n 42. _German_ usages, Rochholz, pp. 172-174. Meier, p. 93.--In\n Middle Ages, Zingerle, pp. 32, 33.--_Italian_, Corazzini,\n pp. 93, 94.--Drawing lots by spires of grass is probably the\n \"Erbelette\" of Froissart; see Celnart, p. 105, \"L'Herbette\n Joliette.\"--_Spanish_, Marin, i. 123.\n\n 43. _German_ usages, Rochholz, pp. 174-183.\n\n 45. Compare French of Gagnon, p. 147.\n\n 46. _French_, Ch. du Camb., i. 119, etc.--_German_, Peter, p.\n 49, etc.--_Flemish_, Willems, p. 522.--_Breton_, M\u00e9lusine,\n p. 462.\n\n 47. _French_, Rabelais, Gargantua, ch. xxii. Laisnel de la\n Salle, ii. 156.\n\n 48. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., pp. 263-265. Chambers, p.\n 31.--_German_, Rochholz, pp. 156-170; he refers to\n the Rigsm\u00e1l of the poetic Edda. Schuster, p. 364,\n etc.--_Proven\u00e7al_, Ch. Pop. du Languedoc, p. 517, \"Las\n Bestios.\"\n\n 50. Nurs. Rh., No. 278. Compare Finnish game, Neus, p. 417.\n\n 52. _German_, Vernaleken, p. 94. Meier, p. 135.--_French_,\n Chabreul, p. 183.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii. 400.\n\n 53. Strutt, p. 294. Brand, ii. 287.--_German_, Vernaleken,\n p. 86, \"Ritterschlagen.\" Rochholz, p. 435.--_French_,\n \"Les Ambassadeurs,\" Celnart, p. 131. Old English game of\n \"Questions and Commands,\" Gent.'s Mag., Feb. 1738; Rochholz,\n p. 413.\n\n 55. Perhaps the \"Roi qui ne ment\" of Froissart, which he\n mentions as a game of his childhood (see p. 34), and also as\n played by great personages.\n\n 56. _French_, Celnart, p. 125.\n\n 57. Similarly, in a French game, \"Le Roi D\u00e9pouill\u00e9\" (Celnart, p.\n 139), the player must say \"Oserais-je?\" at every movement.\n\n 58. See the round in Chappell, Pop. Mus., p. 77.\n\n 60. Perhaps connected with No. 154. Compare German, Vernaleken,\n p. 52, No. 8.\n\n 61. Very likely the \"Derision\" (Ris\u00e9es) of Froissart.\n\n 62. _German_, Rochholz, p. 183. Vernaleken, p. 47,\n etc.--_Proven\u00e7al_, \"Lou brandet de Roso,\" Ch. Pop. du\n Languedoc, p. 577.\n\n 64. _German_, Dunger, p. 176, played also in New York. The rhyme\n in the text seems a recent translation.\n\n 68. Nurs. Rh., No. 352. Chambers, p. 137.--_French_, Celnart, p.\n 19.--_Spanish_, Maspons y Labr\u00f3s, p. 100, \"Jan petit.\"\n\n 71. Nurs. Rh., No. 218.\n\n 74. Chambers, p. 139, \"Curcuddie.\"--_French_, Celnart, p. 353,\n \"Les Jarcotons.\"--Among games of motion might have been\n mentioned the familiar \"Puss in the Corner,\" Gent.'s Mag.,\n Feb. 1738.--_French_, Celnart, p. 57, \"Les Quatre Coins,\"\n etc.\n\n 75. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 128.--_Danish_, Grundtvig, Dansk.\n Folk., 2d ser. p. 142.--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 19, No.\n 18.--_Spanish_, Marin, I. 52, No. 84.\n\n 76. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 112.--_French_, Chabreul, p.\n 8, \"Petit bonhomme vist encore, car il n'est pas\n mort.\"--_German_, Handelmann, p. 31, \"Little man still\n lives.\"--The _High-German_ formula is, \"Stirbt der Fuchs, so\n gilt der Balg.\" Like the English phrase is a Danish game,\n \"Do not let my master's bird die\", Syv, \"Adagia Danica,\"\n p. xlvii.--_Russian_ (Kazan), Mozarowski, p. 88, \"Kurilka\n lives, she is not dead.\"\n\n 77. (a) _German_, Vernaleken, p. 89.--_French_, Celnart, p.\n 307--(b) Nurs. Rh., No. 282.--_German_, Vernaleken, p. 88,\n \"Vater Eberhard.\"--(c) _German_, Rochholz, p. 430, No.\n 50.--_French_, Rabelais, Gargantua, ch. xxii. Celnart, p.\n 124, \"Pince-sans-rire.\"\n\n 79. Compare finger-game in Chambers, p. 116. Italian finger-game\n referred to, Bernoni, p. 22, No. 25.\n\n 81. Strutt, p. 290, \"Hammer and Block.\"\n\n 83. _French_.--Celnart, p. 162, \"Le Chevalier Gentil.\"\n\n 86. Nurs. Rh., Nos. 297, 307.--_German_, Meier, p. 138;\n Handelmann, p. 40.--_French_, M\u00e9lusine, p. 198.\n\n 87. _Italian_ (the game, not the rhyme), Ferraro, G. Monfer.,\n No. 10.--_Spanish_, Marin, i. 48, No. 71. Compare Nurs. Rh.,\n No. 293; Chambers, p. 159.\n\n 88. Celnart (2d ed., A.D. 1830) gives sixty kinds of\n \"p\u00e9nitences,\" consisting in kissing, as then usual in French\n society (see p. 6).--_French_, Celnart, p. 302, \"Les Aunes\n d'Amour,\" the same as \"Measuring yards of tape.\"--_German_,\n Frischbier, p. 201, \"Aus dem Brunnen erretten,\" equivalent\n to \"I'm in the well.\" \"Redeeming forfeits in Germany,\"\n Frischbier, p. 199.\n\n 89. With the dialogue at the end of the second version, compare\n No. 154, B. An Italian game, Corazzini, p. 104, has a\n similar theme.\n\n 90. Spectator, No. 268.--_German_, Rochholz, p. 440.\n\n 91. Strutt, p. 386. \"Even or Odd.\" A universal game.--_Ancient\n Egyptian_, Wilkinson, ii. 416.--_Ancient Greek_, Aristotle,\n Rhet. iii. 5. The formula is #artia \u00ea perissa#--_Latin_,\n \"par impar.\"--_German_, \"grad oder ungrad,\" or \"effen oder\n uneffen.\"--_Spanish_, Marin, i. 51, \"Pares \u00f3 Nones\" (\"par\n est, non est\").\n\n 92. The similar _Italian_ game begins, \"Galota, galota,\" whence,\n no doubt, our \"_Hulgul_,\" Gianandrea, No. 20.--_Ancient\n Greek_, Scholiast to Aristophanes, Plut. 1057, #posa en\n chersin ech\u00f4#; \"How many have I in my hands?\" Suidas\n (10th century), Lexicon, under #paidia#, writes: \"There\n is a game of the following character among the Athenians:\n Having taken up a number of nuts and holding out his hand,\n one asks, 'How many have I?' And if [the other] guesses\n the number, he takes as many as he has in his hand; but\n if he fails to guess, he loses as many as the asker holds\n in his hand.\"--_Latin_, given by Helenius Acron (4th\n century), \"quot in sunt?\" See Marin, note to preceding\n game.--_German_, Meier, p. 123, \"Wie viel sollen Kerner in\n meiner Hand sein?\" Handelmann, p. 35, etc.\n\n 93. A child rests his head in the lap of another, while a third\n claps the back of the first, keeping time to the words of\n the rhyme, and finally raises a certain number of fingers;\n if the kneeling child can guess the number, he takes the\n other's place.--_Spanish_, Marin, i. 51, No. 81. The rhyme\n closely resembles the English given in the text.--_Italian_,\n Imbriani, No. 30, where the question is, \"How many horns\n do I hold up?\"--_German_, Meier, pp. 135, 136, where it is\n asked, \"Wie viel H\u00f6rner hat der Bock?\" This allusion to the\n goat (as a leaping animal) refers to the usual practice of\n riding on the back of the stooping child while putting the\n question.--_German_, Rochholz, p. 434.--_Dutch_, Hor. Belg.,\n vi. 182. The formulas differ. Tylor, Primitive Culture, i.\n 67. The Latin formula of Petronius is curiously translated\n by F. Nodot, A.D. 1694: \"\u00c9tant \u00e0 cheval sur luy, il luy\n donna plusieurs coups du plat de la main sur les \u00e9paules,\n disant tout haut en riant, Quatre cornes dans un sac,\n combien font-ils? ce jeu fini,\" etc. Nodot remarks of his\n free translation, that it is still a boys' game in France.\n\n 94. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 116, \"Handy-Dandy.\"--_German_\n (Austria), Vernaleken, p. 41. The formula is the\n exact counterpart of the English: \"Windle, wandle,\n in welchen Handle, oben oder unt?\" Handelmann, p. 35\n (Schleswig-Holstein), \"Where dwells the smith? Above or\n below?\"--_Spanish_, Marin, p. 50, No. 77.\n\n 95. _German_, Meier, p. 124, \"Under which finger sits the hare?\"\n\n 97. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 125, \"My Lady's lost her diamond\n ring.\"--_Low-German_ formulas exactly correspond to our\n \"Hold fast what I give you.\" Thus the North Frisian, \"Biwari\n wel, wat ik di du,\" Handelmann, p. 38. Corresponding to\n \"Button, button, who's got the button?\" is the _Italian_\n \"Anello, anello, chi ha mi anello?\" Gianandrea, No.\n 14.--_Spanish_, Maspons y Labr\u00f3s, p. 86.\n\n 98. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 133.\n\n 99. _German_, Frischbier, p. 195.\n\n 100. A universal game.\n\n 101. Halliwell, Nurs. Rh., Nos. 328, 357; Pop. Rh.,\n p. 118; Chambers, p. 123, \"The King and Queen of\n Cantelon.\"--_German_, Rochholz, p. 414, No. 32.\n\n 102. Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 132, \"The Old Dame,\" like our B.\n The Scotch of Chambers, p. 130, \"Gled Wylie\" (wily hawk)\n corresponds to our first version.--_German_, Mullenhoff, p.\n 488; Handelmann, p. 76, etc.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii.\n 164.--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 34, No. 40, here a game of a\n witch like our second version.--_Finnish_, Neus, p. 418,\n begins like the Scotch.--_Russian_, Bezsonoff, p. 195,\n probably borrowed from the German.\n\n 103. The name, \"Tag,\" in Gent.'s Mag., Feb. 1738.--_German_,\n Handelmann, p. 66, \"Eisen anfassen;\" \"Eisenzech\" in Berlin;\n \"Eisenziggi\" in Switzerland.--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 62,\n \"Toca fero.\"--\"Squat-tag\" is also _Spanish_, Maspons y\n Labr\u00f3s, p. 81.\n\n 105. _Ancient Greek_, Pollux, ix. 117, #Apodidraskinda#,\n \"Game of Running Away.\"--_German_, Vernaleken, p. 89,\n \"Verstecherlspiel,\" \"Einschauen.\"--_Italian_, Bernoni,\n p. 61, \"Chi se vede, eh!\"--_French_, Celnart, p. 55,\n \"Cligne-musette\" or \"Cache-cache.\"\n\n 106. _French_, Chabreul, p. 1, \"La Queue Leuleu,\" mentioned by\n Froissart.--_German_, Rochholz, p. 408, etc.; Schuster, p.\n 392, a game of wolf and geese; so _Russian_, Bezsonoff, p.\n 205.\n\n 107. _Spanish_, Marin, i. 169. The seeker must wait until the\n hiders, who go off one by one as they are counted out, cry\n \"Jilo bianco, jilo negro,\" etc. Hence, probably, the cry\n \"Blancalilo,\" etc., of the English game. The rest proceeds\n like No. 105. In the Spanish sport, a player reaching goal\n must spit three times; this seems to have been originally\n a conjuration against the Evil Spirit, whom the seeker\n represented.\n\n 108. _Ancient Greek_, Pollux, ix. 113, 123. The game is\n universal. See Handelmann, p. 71. Child, Eng. and Scot. Pop.\n Bal., 1882, i. 67.\n\n 109. _German_, Handelmann, p. 65, \"Die Hexe.\" The games are\n identical; yet the children, from whom the version in the\n text was learned, imagined that they had \"made it up!\"\n\n 110. Strutt, p. 61.--_German_, Vernaleken, p. 63,\n \"Das Barlaufen.\"--_French_, Celnart, p. 58, \"Les\n Barres.\"--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 87. The French word\n _barres_ is probably only a false interpretation of an older\n word _bar_, a form of our base, meaning goal; so Swiss\n \"Bahre,\" Basle. Kindr., p. 30.--_Flemish_, in Hor. Belg.,\n vi. 181.\n\n 111. N. and Q., 2d ser. VIII. pp. 70, 132. Brand, ii.\n 316.--_German_, Handelmann, p. 81, \"Die Katzen von dem\n Berge.\" The phrase is \"Cat, cat, off my hill!\"--_French_,\n Bel\u00e8ze, p. 42, \"Le Roi D\u00e9tron\u00e9.\"\n\n 113. Chambers, p. 122, \"Hickety Bickety.\"--_German_, Aus dem\n Kinderleben, p. 24. Rochholz, p. 442.\n\n 114. Folk-lore Rec., iii. 169; Chambers, p. 36. See No. 89.\n\n 115. _German_, Vernaleken, p. 74,\n \"Weinbeer-Schneiden.\"--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 50. This is a\n variation of No. 156; compare Frischbier, p. 186.\n\n 116. Chambers, p. 127, \"Scots and English.\"\n\n 117. This number includes the remains of two ancient games: (a)\n _Ancient Greek_, #schoinophilinda#, Pollux, ix. 115, in\n which a player must be whipped round the ring with the cord\n he has dropped at the back of another.--_German_, in 14th\n century, Mone, Anzeiger, 1839, p. 395.--_Spanish_, Maspons\n y Labr\u00f3s, p. 22.--_French_, Celnart, p. 55. (b) Strutt, p.\n 285, \"Cat and Mouse, or Kiss in the Ring,\" where a player\n pursues another round and through the circle.--_French_,\n Celnart, p. 39, \"Le Chat et la Souris.\"--_Italian_,\n Gianandrea, No. 6.--_German_, Handelmann, p. 78.\n\n 122. Variation of No. 121. The name connects it with the old\n English game of \"Frog in the Middle,\" Strutt, p. 293; the\n ancient Greek, #chytrinda#,\" pot-game,\" see p. 31, note.\n\n 123. _German_, Vernaleken, p. 75. Handelmann, p. 80. Meier, p.\n 105. See No. 89.\n\n 124. _French_, Chabreul, p. 22, \"La Toilette de Madame.\"\n\n 125. Nurs. Rh., No. 131.\n\n 127. _German_, Rochholz, p. 430, No. 50. See Nos. 77, 152, 153.\n\n 128. \"Marble-day\" in Sussex is Good Friday, N. and Q., 5th ser.\n XII. 18. \"Times\" of German sports, Basle. Kindr., p. 30.\n Meier, p. 92, 8.\n\n 129. Brand, ii. 302, \"Camp.\" Strutt, p. 78.--_Ancient Greek_,\n Pollux, ix. 104.--_Icelandic_ and _Low-German_, Weinhold,\n Altnord. Leben, p. 292. Egils Saga, ch. 40.\n\n 130. Games of ball played with the hand are, of course, universal.\n\n 131. Strutt, p. 381 (new ed.). Strutt, p. 76. Bradford's History\n of Plymouth (ed. by Ch. Deane, Boston, 1856), p. 112.\n Ducange, under Pelota. Wirt Sikes, British Goblins, p. 272.\n\n 132. _German_ (Austria), Vernaleken, p. 2. (Schleswig-Holstein),\n Handelmann, p. 88, \"Stehball.\" (Switzerland), Rochholz, p.\n 388.\n\n 136. Jamieson gives Scotch name as \"Shinty.\"--_Italian_, Ferraro,\n G. Monfer., No. 38.\n\n 137. _German_, Vernaleken, p. 9.--_French_, Celnart, p.\n 69.--_Italian_, Ferraro, G. Monfer., No. 23, \"Le Pietruzze.\"\n\n 138. _German_, Vernaleken, p. 10. Rochholz, p. 389.\n\n 139. _German_, Vernaleken, p. 11. Rochholz, p. 399.\n\n 140. _German_, Vernaleken, p. 15.--The American word \"Cat\" (\"one\n old cat,\" \"two old cat,\" etc.) is explained by the Flemish\n \"Caetsen, Ketsen,\" the common name of the game of ball in\n the Netherlands, Hor. Belg., vi. 177.\n\n 141. _German_, names of \"marbles.\" \"Schnell-K\u00fcgelchen\" (15th\n century), \"Schusser,\" \"L\u00f6per,\" also \"Marmeln,\" the latter\n when made of marble. A MS. of the 15th century mentions\n \"the yellow glass used for the little yellow balls with\n which schoolboys play, and which are very cheap,\" Rochholz,\n p. 421.--Playing marbles (_kluckern_) in the streets\n was forbidden on pain of torture, by the Reformers in\n Zurich, A.D. 1530.--The general name in North Friesland\n is \"Rollkugle,\" \"rollballs.\"--_French_ name, \"_billes;_\"\n see Celnart and Bel\u00e8ze for description of games. The game\n of Roman boys with nuts, from which marbles is probably\n derived, is still played in the Netherlands, Hor. Belg.,\n vi. 182. Nuts are also used instead of marbles in Italy,\n Gianandrea, No. 20.\n\n 142. Strutt, p. 86, \"Tip-cat.\" Brand, ii. 303, \"Kit-cat.\" The\n game, which is played in _Hindostan_, N. and Q., 4th ser.\n IV. 93, may probably have made its way into Europe from the\n East.--_German_, Handelmann, p. 89, \"Kipseln.\" Vernaleken,\n p. 29, \"Titschkerln.\"--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 81; p. 82,\n \"Chiba e Cheba.\"\n\n 143. Brand, ii. 305.\n\n 144. (a) _German_, Rochholz, p. 426. Vernaleken, p.\n 25.--_French_, Celnart, p. 379, \"La Fossette aux Noyaux,\"\n played with cherry-stones or plum-stones. The fillip given\n to the stone is called _poguer_, poke. Froissart appears\n to allude to this game, (b) Also ancient.--_Italian_,\n Gianandrea, No. 20, \"Battemuro.\"\n\n 145. _German_, Handelmann, p. 92, \"Kaak.\"--_Italian_, Gianandrea,\n No. 17, \"La Checca.\"\n\n 146. Strutt, p. 266. Brand, ii. 330, \"Scotch-hoppers\"\n mentioned A.D. 1677.--_German_, Vernaleken, p.\n 38, \"Tempelhupfen.\"--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 84,\n \"El Campanon.\"--_French_, Celnart, p. 379, \"La\n Marelle.\"--_Hindostan_, N. and Q., 4th ser. IV. 93.\n\n 147. _German_, Handelmann, p. 96, \"Stickmest.\"\n\n 148. Though played in Great Britain, the game is not (so far as\n we know) mentioned by writers.--_French_, Celnart, p. 375\n f., \"Les Osselets.\"--_Spanish_, Marin, pp. 80-95, 150-159,\n \"Juego de las Chinas,\" \"Game of the Stones.\"--_German_,\n Meier, p. 145.--_Japanese_, Tedama, \"Hand-balls.\"\n\n 149. Rhymes for counting out are used throughout Europe, and\n examples could be cited of types corresponding to most\n of the English forms, and sometimes evidently related.\n Peculiar is the usage in Spain, where the syllables are told\n off alternately on the closed hands of a player, who holds\n a pebble; if the last syllable falls on the hand containing\n the stone, the lad proving his fortune is free, and so on\n until only one child remains. The custom has given a proverb\n to the language. Marin, i. 117. A like usage (without the\n rhymes) we have found to be the usual way of selection in a\n town of Pennsylvania (Bethlehem).\n\n 150. First printed in Ritson's \"Gammer Gurton's Garland.\"\n Other original versions: (1) Gent.'s Mag., Sept. 1823;\n (2), (3) The Critic, Jan. 15, 1857, and (4) Feb. 2, 1857.\n The last mentioned is nearly identical with our B. The\n communicator of (1) refers it, through an aged informant,\n to a lady born in the reign of Charles II.; it has several\n more verses than the last, generally agreeing with our E,\n but lacks the ending. The rhyme, in England, appears at\n present to be known as a song only. The European rhyme is\n properly a dialogue, the verses being sung alternately by\n the warders and the approaching party; the former, whose\n joined and lowered arms represent the fallen bridge, do\n not elevate them until the negotiations are concluded.\n The game is, no doubt, that mentioned under the name of\n \"Coda Romana,\" by G. Villani, Istorie Fiorent., A.D.\n 1328, ch. xcvi., as played by the boys of Florence, in\n which the question put to the imprisoned player is said\n to have been, \"Guelf or Ghibelline?\"--_German_, Meier, p.\n 101 (cited), etc. Mannhardt in Zeitschr. f. d. Myth., iv.\n 301-320, gives twenty-seven versions, including _Slavic_,\n _Hungarian_, _Scandinavian_.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii.\n 250.--_French_, Chabreul, p. 117, \"Le Ciel et l'Enfer.\"\n Celnart, p. 52, 'Le Pontlevis.'--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 46,\n \"Le Porte.\" Corazzini, pp. 90-93; p. 87 (a mixed form with\n No. 154).--_Spanish_, A. de Ledesma, A.D. 1605, beginning\n \"Fallen is the bridge.\" See Marin, i. 166-168.--For the\n English rhyme, see also N. and Q., 1st Ser. II. p. 338.\n\n The name \"Lady Lee\" in the song may imply a legend. We read in\n Nature, June 15, 1871, p. 118: \"It is not, for example, many\n years since the present Lord Leigh was accused of having\n built an obnoxious person--one account, if we remember\n right, said eight obnoxious persons--into the foundation of\n a bridge at Stoneleigh.\" The communicator of version (2)\n (The Critic, Jan. 15, 1857) spelt the name _Leigh_, and took\n \"the Lady Leigh of the song to be the wife of Sir Thomas\n Leigh, who was Lord Mayor of London in 1558, ... ancestor\n of the noble family of Leigh of Stoneleigh, Warwickshire.\"\n Compare the ballad of \"The Bridge of Arta,\" Passow, Pop.\n Carmina Gr\u00e6ci\u00e6 Recent., No. 511; Tommaseo, Cant. Pop.\n Toscani, iii. 174 f.; F. Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, 1879, p.\n 284.\n\n 151. A variation of No. 150.--_Italian_, Corazzini, pp. 91-93,\n beginning, \"Open, open the gates.\" Gianandrea, No. 3, \"Le\n Porte del Paradiso.\" The dialogue ends, \"Let the King of\n France with all his soldiers pass.\"\n\n 152. _Italian_, Bernoni, p. 54.--_French_, Ch. du Camb. i.\n 133.--_German_, Vernaleken, p. 55.\n\n 153. _German_, Meier, p, 117, \"Farben aufgeben,\" etc.--_Italian_,\n Bernoni, p. 51, \"I colori.\" This version is identical with\n the German and our A, as is also the _Spanish_ (or Catalan),\n Maspons y Labr\u00f3s, p. 91. The game of \"Los Colores\" is\n mentioned by A. de Ledesma, A.D. 1605.--_French_, Bel\u00e8ze, p.\n 40 (cited).\n\n Intermediate between this number and the following are games of\n _selling birds_, Frischbier, p. 184; of _catching birds_,\n Rochholz, p. 449.\n\n Greek game of the shell, #Ostrakinda#, Pollux, ix. 111.\n\n 154. The following is our classification of the numerous games\n (not before noticed as connected) belonging to this cycle of\n childish tradition:\n\n (1.) Versions preserving the original idea of the child-stealing\n witch (as in our A, B, and C).--Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p.\n 131 (cited).--_German_, Meier, p. 117 (cited).--_Italian_,\n Corazzini, p. 110, a fragment.\n\n (2.) Versions in which (as in our D) the mother is represented\n as present, and the game becomes one of _begging_ instead\n of _stealing_ children. This is the case in most _German_\n versions. The tests described in No. 152 are introduced\n and become the leading feature of the game.--_German_,\n Frischbier, p. 183. Rochholz, p. 436, and p. 444, where\n the mother is called \"Maria, mother of God,\" and the game\n \"Getting Angels.\" Mullenhoff, p. 486, No. 7.--_Swedish_,\n Arwiddson, iii. p. 437 (cited). Mannhardt, Germanische\n Mythologie, pp. 273-321, gives fourteen versions, with\n a long discussion of this game, and concludes (p. 297)\n that the last girl of the row (who in our A is the eldest\n daughter, but here represents the \"Mother Rose\") \"personates\n the goddess Freya cherishing in or behind the clouds the\n souls of the dead, who, renewed through the heavenly waters\n (the fountain of youth), are destined to return to earth at\n new birth as the souls of children!\"\n\n It is very curious to observe that several Prussian versions\n contain traits only explained by the American games, the\n form of which they thus imply as more original. Thus the\n mother is _invited to a meal_ by the witch, Frischbier, p.\n 182, and the person invited sends _excuses_ (see our A).\n\n (3.) The mother and children are represented in childish fashion\n as a hen and her brood (see our B, and No. 101). Hence the\n game of the \"Rich and Poor Birds;\" see references in No. 8,\n note.--_Italian_, Corazzini, pp. 86-88. Gianandrea, No. 19,\n \"Madonna Pollinara.\"\n\n (4.) The children are denoted by the names of leaves or\n flowers.--_German_, Vernaleken, p. 58, \"Die Grossmutter.\"\n The visitor begs for a leaf as balsam to heal her injury,\n and the girls are gathered under the name of leaves. So\n Frischbier, p. 181. Feifalik, No. 81.--_Spanish_, Maspons y\n Labr\u00f3s, pp. 87-89, game of \"Pulling Leeks.\"\n\n (5.) The game has become a representation of selling\n pottery.--_German_, Frischbier, p. 183. Mannhardt, p.\n 284.--_Swedish_, Arwiddson, iii. 169, \"Selling Pots,\"\n a dance, has become a mere mercenary transaction.--The\n English game of \"Honey-pots\" is a version of this,\n where the weighing feature is to be explained as in No.\n 152.--_Italian_, Bernoni, p. 57, \"I Piteri,\" where the\n original idea reappears. The purchaser advances _limping_ (a\n characteristic of witches), and the game is one of stealing\n and recovery (like our London version E).--_Italian_,\n Gianandrea, No. 19. The first part of the game is played\n as in (3). The \"pots\" are weighed, as in the English game\n mentioned. Ferraro, G. Monfer., No. 43, where the purchaser\n is the devil, and the game thus passes over into the form of\n No. 153.--_Spanish_, Maspons y Labr\u00f3s, p. 87, \"Las Gerras.\"\n\n (6.) A game of stealing or measuring cloth.--_German_, Rochholz,\n p. 437, \"Tuch anmessen.\" In this game, mentioned by the\n mother of Goethe (D\u00fcntzer, Frauenbilder aus Goethe's\n Jugendzeit, p. 506), the children are arranged against the\n wall to represent cloth, which the dealer measures and\n names by the color of the stockings of the children. A\n thief steals the cloth bit by bit, which the dealer must\n recover by guessing the color, a task of some difficulty,\n the stockings having been taken off in the interval. A\n very curious Low-German version, Brem. Wiegenlieder, p. 61,\n removes any doubt as to the relation of the amusement to\n the original game. In this version the colored cloths are\n only names for children. There are verbal coincidences with\n forms given in the text, the dialogue beginning \"Mother,\n the broth is boiling over!\" (as in our version B), put (as\n in our version C) into the mouth of the watcher left in\n charge by the absent mother; so Aus dem Kinderleben, p.\n 39, \"Leinendieb.\" The remainder of the first paragraph of\n C will be found almost word for word in Handelmann, p. 57,\n No. 80, \"Frau Rosen,\" a version of the form (2).--_Italian_,\n Bernoni, p. 55, \"I Brazzi de Tela,\" \"the measures of cloth.\"\n The thief advances _limping_, the owner having departed,\n steals the cloth, but is pursued, and the goods recovered,\n as in the game of pots described above. Ferraro, G. Monfer.,\n No. 3.--_French_, Celnart, p. 43, \"La Toile,\" has become a\n kissing romp of grown people.\n\n (7.) Finally, to the same root belong various rounds and dances\n which represent a mother who wishes to marry her many\n daughters, or of a poor widow who has but one daughter; see\n our No. 8, and note.\n\n 155. _German_, Grimm, No. 15, \"Hansel und Grethel.\"\n\n 156. Gent.'s Mag., Feb. 1738, \"Fryar's Ground.\"--_Spanish_,\n Maspons y Labr\u00f3s, p. 92.--_French_, Celnart, p. 53, \"Chateau\n du Corbeau;\" \"Je suis dans ton ch\u00e2teau, corbeau, et j'y\n serai toujours.\"--_German_, Meier, p. 98, \"Ist der Kukuk\n zu Haus?\" see No. 115, note. German games based on this\n idea are numerous. Vernaleken, p. 77, \"The Black Man;\" p.\n 62, \"Dead man, arise;\" p. 73, \"Wassermannspiel.\" The child\n representing the Water-spirit lies in the dry bed of a brook\n and pretends to sleep. The rest approach to tease him, when\n he endeavors to seize one without leaving the brook or pit.\n The first so caught must assist him to capture the rest.\n The superstition about a treasure buried at the foot of the\n rainbow is also Swiss, see L\u00fctolf, Sagen, etc., Von Lutzern,\n p. 384.\n\n 157. A variation of 156.--_German_, Meier, p. 121. Rochholz, p.\n 415.\n\n 158. _German_, Meier, p. 102, \"Der B\u00f6se Geist.\"\n\n 159. _French_, Celnart, p. 365, etc.--_German_, Vernaleken, p.\n 52, etc. See Mannhardt, Germ. Myth., pp. 492-511, who gives\n twenty-three versions, including a Spanish (Catalan) one. He\n imagines, as usual, a good deal of mythology in the game.\n The mythologic character belongs, not to the details of\n the children's rounds, but to the cycle of traditions on\n which these are founded. The name in Suabia is \"Prinzessin\n erl\u00f6sen,\" \"to disenchant the princess.\"\n\n 160. _Proven\u00e7al_, Arbaud, ii. 207.--_French_, Puymaigre, p. 334.\n Bugeaud, i. 126. Tarb\u00e9, ii. 178.\n\n Of the following games played in Great Britain, and possessing\n European equivalents, we have not obtained American versions:\n (1.) Halliwell, Pop. Rh., p. 131, \"Game of the Fox.\"--_German_,\n Rochholz, p. 44, \"Fuchs aus dem Loche.\" Handelmann, p.\n 74.--_French_, Bel\u00e8ze, p. 27, \"La M\u00e8re Garuche,\" also \"Le Diable\n boiteux.\"--_Ancient Greek_, Pollux, ix. 121. (2.) Halliwell, Pop.\n Rh., p. 126, \"The Poor Soldier.\"--_Spanish_, Maspons y Labr\u00f3s, p.\n 86, mentioned A.D. 1605, Marin, i. 177. (3.) \"The Wadds,\" Chambers,\n p. 124.--_German_, Rochholz, p. 432, No. 52. (4.) Chambers, p.\n 128, \"The Craw.\"--_German_, Rochholz, p. 445, \"Der Teufel an\n der Kette.\" (5.) Nurs. Rh., No. 323, \"This is the Key of the\n Kingdom.\"--_German_, Handelmann, p. 39.--_French_, Celnart, p.\n 181.--_Spanish_, Marin, i. 88.\n\n\n Transcriber's Notes:\n\n\n Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors\n were corrected.\n\n Punctuation normalized.\n\n Anachronistic and non-standard spellings retained as printed.\n\n Italics markup is enclosed in _underscores_.\n\n Bold markup is enclosed in =equals=.\n\n Gesperrt markup is enclosed in +plus signs+.\n\n Greek text is transliterated and enclosed in #number signs#.\n\n Beginning with p. 236 several numbers were skipped in the original.","title":"Games and songs of American children","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":73056}