under the necessity of receiving the answer to his question from the first person. Every one must then say aloud what was the question put to him, and what was the answer he received to the question he asked—the two together, of course, making nothing but nonsense, something like the following:—
Q. Who is your favourite author?
A. Beans and Bacon.
Q. Were you ever in love?
A. Cricket, decidedly.
Q. Are you an admirer of Oliver Cromwell?
A. Mark Twain.
Q. Why is a cow like an oyster?
A. Many a time.
Another way of playing this game is for one person to stand outside the circle; then, when all the whispering is finished, to come forward and ask a question of each person, receiving for his replies the answers they all had given to the questions they asked each other. Or what is, perhaps, a still better plan, both questions and answers may be written on different coloured paper, and then, after being shuffled, may be read aloud by the leader of the game.
"CUPID IS COMING."
In this game all the adverbs that can be thought of will need to be brought into requisition. Seated in order round the room, the first player begins by saying to his neighbour, "Cupid is coming." The neighbour then says, "How is he coming?" To which the first player replies by naming an adverb beginning with the letter A. This little form of procedure is repeated by every player until every one in the room has mentioned an adverb beginning with A. Next time Cupid is declared to be coming Beautifully, Bashfully, Bountifully, etc.; then Capriciously, Cautiously, Carefully, and so on, until the whole of the alphabet has been gone through, by which time, no doubt, it will be thought desirable to select another game.
THE CUSHION DANCE.
A hassock is placed end upwards in the middle of the floor, round which the players form a circle with hands joined, having first divided themselves into two equal parts.
The adversaries, facing each other, begin business by dancing round the hassock a few times; then suddenly one side tries to pull the other forward, so as to force one of their number to touch the hassock, and to upset it.
The struggle that necessarily ensues is a source of great fun, causing as much or even more merriment to spectators of the scene than to the players themselves. At last, in spite of the utmost dexterity, down goes the hassock or cushion, whichever it may be; some one's foot is sure to touch it before very long, when the unfortunate individual is dismissed from the circle, and compelled to pay a forfeit.
The advantages that the gentlemen have over the ladies in this game are very great; they can leap over the stool and avoid it times without number, while the ladies are continually impeded by their dresses. It generally happens that two gentlemen are left to keep up the struggle, which in most cases is a very prolonged one.
DEFINITIONS.
This game is not fit for very young children, but among older ones, who wish to enjoy a little quiet time together, it will suit their purpose admirably. On a little slip of paper each member of the party writes down a subject for definition. The slips are then handed to the leader, who reads the subjects aloud, while each person copies them on a piece of paper. Every one is then requested to give definitions, not only of his own word, but of all the others, the whole being read aloud when finished.
DUMB CRAMBO.
After dividing the company into two equal parts, one half leaves the room; in their absence the remaining players fix upon a verb, to be guessed by those who have gone out when they return. As soon as the word is chosen, those outside the room are told with what word it rhymes. A consultation ensues, when the absent ones come in and silently act the word they think may be the right one. Supposing the verb thought of should have rhymed with Sell, the others might come in and begin felling imaginary trees with imaginary hatchets, but on no account uttering a single syllable. If Fell were the right word, the spectators, on perceiving what the actors were attempting to do, would clap their hands, as a signal that the word had been discovered. But if Tell or any other word had been thought of, the spectators would begin to hiss loudly, which the actors would know indicated that they were wrong, and that nothing remained for them but to try again. The rule is that, while the acting is going on, the spectators as well as the actors should be speechless. Should any one make a remark, or even utter a single syllable, a forfeit must be paid.
DWARF.
Just as absurd and ridiculous as the representation of the Giant (elsewhere explained) is that of the Dwarf, and to those who have never before seen it performed the picture is certainly a most bewildering one. The wonderful phenomenon is produced in the following manner:—On a table in front of the company the dwarf makes his appearance, his feet being the hands of one of the two gentlemen who have undertaken to manage the affair. His head is the property of the same gentleman, while his hands belong to the other gentleman, who thrusts them over the shoulders of his companion to take the place of those that are being made to act as feet. Stockings and shoes are of course put on to these artificial feet, and the little figure is dressed up as well as can be managed, in order to hide the comical way in which the portions of the two individuals are united. For this purpose a child's pinafore will be found as suitable as anything else. A third person generally takes part in the proceedings as exhibitor, and comes forward to introduce his little friend, perhaps as Count Borowlaski, the Polish dwarf, who lived in the last century, and who was remarkable for his intelligence and wit. This little creature was never more than three feet high, although he lived to be quite old. He was also very highly accomplished: he could dance, and played on the guitar quite proficiently. Or he might be introduced as Nicholas Ferry, the famous French dwarf, who was so small that when he was taken to church to be christened his mother made a bed for him in her sabot, and so comfortable was he in it that for the first six months of his life it was made to serve as a cradle for the little fellow. Sense or nonsense may of course be improvised on the spot, and made use of in order to render the exhibition a success.
THE ELEMENTS.
Seated round the room, one of the company holds in his hand a ball, round which should be fastened a string, so that it may be easily drawn back again. Sometimes a ball of worsted is used, when a yard or two is left unwound. The possessor of the ball then throws it first to one person then to another, naming at the time one of the elements; and each player as the ball touches him must, before ten
