shawl or tablecloth is then put over the heads of both, so that nothing that is going on in the room can be visible to them. The person, however, who understands the game may stealthily pull away the cloth from his own head, keeping it round his shoulders only, so that his companion may have no suspicion that both are not equally blindfolded. The player acquainted with the game then with his slipper hits his own head, at the same time calling out, "Brother, I'm bobbed." His blind companion will then ask, "Who bobbed you?" upon which the first player must name some person in the room, as if making a guess in the matter. He will next hit the head of the player under the shawl with the slipper, who will also exclaim, "Brother, I'm bobbed." "Who bobbed you?" the first player will inquire. The blinded player may then guess which person in the room he suspects of having hit him. The fun of the whole affair lies in the fact that the bobbing, which the blind player suspects is performed by the various members of the company, is really chiefly done by the player sitting close beside him. Sometimes, too, the bobbing business is done so effectually, and with such force, as to render it anything but amusing to the poor blinded victim, although to the spectators it may be unmistakably so. Should the victim be a gentleman, a few sharp raps with a slipper will not make any material difference to him; but if instead it should happen to be a lady, the "bobbing" must be of the gentlest.
"BUFF SAYS 'BAFF.'"
In this game no one is allowed to either laugh or smile; consequently, it is generally one of the games chosen when the merriment of the evening has reached its highest pitch. The company seat themselves in a half circle at one end of the room, with the exception of one of their number, who is supposed to have gone on a visit to Buff. He then enters the room with the poker in his hand, and his face looking as grave as possible. When he is asked by his friends in succession:—
"Where do you come from?"
"From Buff."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"Buff said Baff,
And gave me this staff,
Telling me neither to smile nor laugh.
Buff says Baff to all his men,
And I say Baff to you again,
And he neither laughs nor smiles,
In spite of all your cunning wiles,
But carries his face with a very good grace,
And passes his stick to the very next place."
If all this can be repeated without laughing, the player is highly to be commended. He may then deliver up his staff to some one else, and take his seat.
BUFF WITH THE WAND.
Blind Man's Buff is so time-honoured and popular with young and old, that one would think it impossible to devise a better game of the kind. The newer game of Buff with the Wand, however, is thought by many to be superior to the long-established favourite. The blinded person, with a stick in his hand, is placed in the middle of the room. The remainder of the party form a ring by joining hands, and to the music of a merry tune which should be played on the piano they all dance round him. Occasionally the music should be made to stop suddenly, when the blind man takes the opportunity of lowering his wand upon one of the circle. The person thus made the victim is then required to take hold of the stick until his fate is decided. The blind man then makes any absurd noise he likes, either the cry of animals, or street cries, which the captured person must imitate, trying as much as possible to disguise his own natural voice. Should the blind man detect who holds the stick, and guess rightly, he is released from his post, the person who has been caught taking his place. If not, he must still keep the bandage on his eyes, and hope for better success next time.
CAPPING VERSES.
This game is not unlike one that is elsewhere described as "Mixed-up Poetry." Every one at the table is supplied with a sheet of paper and a pencil, at the top of which is written by each player a line of poetry either original or from memory. The paper must then be folded down so as to conceal what has been written, and passed on to the right; at the same time the neighbour to whom it is passed must be told what is the last word written in the concealed line. Every one must then write under the folded paper a line to rhyme with the line above, being ignorant, of course, of what it is. Thus the game is carried on, until the papers have gone once or twice round the circle, when they can be opened and read aloud.
CHARADES.
Although the acting of charades is by no means an amusement of very recent invention, it is one that may always be made so thoroughly attractive, according to the amount of originality displayed, that most young people, during an evening's entertainment, hail with glee the announcement that a charade is about to be acted. It is not necessary that anything great should be attempted in the way of dressing, scenery, or similar preparations, such as are almost indispensable to the performance of private theatricals. Nothing is needed beyond a few old clothes, shawls, and hats, and a few good actors, or rather, a few clever, bright, intelligent young people, all willing to employ their best energies in contributing to the amusement of their friends. What ability they may possess as actors will soon become evident by the success or failure of the charade.
The word charade derives its name from the Italian word Schiarare—to unravel or to clear up. Suitable as the word may be in some instances, we cannot help thinking that in the majority of cases the acting of a charade has the effect of making the word chosen anything but clear; indeed, the object of the players generally is to make it as ambiguous as possible. As all players of round games know how charades are got up, it would be superfluous to give any elaborate instructions regarding them, though perhaps the following illustration may be useful.
WORD "GO-BANG," TO BE REPRESENTED IN THREE SCENES.
Scene 1.—In which the word Go is to be introduced.
The curtain drawn aside. Miss Jenkyns is seen reclining on her drawing-room couch, with a weary look on her face and a book in her hand.
Enter Footman.
Footman (pulling his forelock).—"Please ma'am, I'm come to say I wish to give you notice; I can't stop here no longer!"
Lady.—"Why, James, how is this? What can have made you so unexpectedly come to this decision?"
James.—"Well, ma'am, you see I want to live where there are more carriage visitors. I have nothing at all to say against you, ma'am, or the place; but I want to better myself by seeing a little of 'igh life."
