Games of Washington Children
by W.H. Babcock
"Lippincott's Magazine," March and September, 1886
GAMES OF WASHINGTON CHILDREN
BY W. H. BABCOCK.
These games and the songs that go with them have been collected, with very few exceptions, from the children themselves. My method has been to wander through promising neighborhoods in the twilight of summer evenings or lie in wait in my study and sally out when anything novel in the way of child music was borne in through the windows, hurried notes being taken in either case, often under great difficulties. Often, too, my young friends would organize entertainments for my benefit, clearing up doubtful matters by practical illustration. I had juvenile reporters out also, who brought me novelties with great enthusiasm. Their accounts were compared and tested as opportunity offered. The few instances in which my own recollections or those of other adults have been made use of will be sufficiently indicated.
In classification I have adopted form as a criterion chiefly because it is obvious and easy of practical application. Sentiment must always be a confusing test. My divisions are Ring Games, Vis d Vis Games,'Archway Games, etc., as will appear hereafter. A few of them have been subdivided, falling naturally into groups. Of course there are a few marginal cases which might be shifted about with no great violence to the arrangement. In all there are about a hundred games reported, excluding those which have no literary element nor much interest to the student of folk-lore.
Of course the field is by no.means exhausted. About fifty additional games collected elsewhere by Mr. Newell, Miss Courtney, Mr. Halliwell, and others, on both sides of the Atlantic, may reasonably be looked for in this District, which has a cosmopolitan population. Some of them must be here, though I have not found them. On the other hand, my list includes more than a dozen which are unrecorded, so far as I know, and many of the others are well-marked variants.
RING GAMES—These are great favorites, involving, as they do, continuous action of limb and voice of nearly every player and having to do with the great perennial themes, death and love and the delightfulness of living. Here is one which claims kindred with the lyke-wake songs of the Celtic people and such as are still in use in the Greek islands.
THE LILY-WHITE DAISIES One of the party stands at first in the center. Before or during the chanting of the fifth stanza he lies down as if dead. Those forming the ring move around hand in hand, singing:
Johnny is his first name,
His first name, his first name,
Johnny is his first name,
Among the lily-white daisies.
(Surname) is his second name,
His second name, his second name,
(Surname) is his second name,
Among the lily-white daisies.
Emma is her first name,
Her first name, her first name,
Emma is her first name,
Among the lily-white daisies.
(Surname) is her second name,
Her second name, her second name,
(Surname) is her second name,
Among the lily-white daisies.
And now poor Johnny's dead and gone,
Dead and gone, dead and gone,
And now poor Johnny's dead and gone,
Among the lily-white daisies.
SWEET GRAVEL Here is another ring-ditty on the same lugubrious topic, but with an opening hard to account for:
Sweet Gravel, sweet Gravel,
Your true love is dead;
He wrote you a letter
To turn back your head.
One in the ring turns her head over her shoulder. Then the lines are sung again and another turns likewise. This continues until all have turned. Sometimes they vary the opening:
Now, while the grass is green,
All the true lovers are ashamed to be seen;
Miss Lily, Miss Lily, your true love is dead.
OLD HUMPSY
Within the ring there are three players—one erect, for a tree; another, Old Humpsy, crouched below; a third, the old woman who gathers apples. All sing:
Old Humpsy was dead and laid in his grave,
Laid in his grave, laid in his grave,
Old Humpsy was dead and laid in his grave,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
There grew a large apple tree out of his grave,
Out of his grave, out of his grave,
There grew a large apple tree out of his grave,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
The apples grew ripe and ready to fall,
Ready to fall, ready to fall,
The apples grew ripe and ready to fall,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
There came an old woman a picking 'em up,
A picking 'em up, a picking 'em up,
There came an old woman a picking 'em up,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
Old Humpsy gets up and gives her a knock,
Gives her a knock, gives her a knock,
Old Humpsy gets up and gives her a knock,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
It made the old woman go hippity hop,
Hippity hop, hippity hop,
It made the old woman go hippity hop,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
With each division of this chant there is the appropriate action. At the end the tree, Humpsy, and the old woman select three from the ring to take their places and the game begins again.
UNDER THE WILLOW TREE
Charlie took a notion
To go sail the sea,
And left poor Minnie a widow
Under the willow tree.
Minnie, Minnie, nurse your baby.
Drink the wine that Charlie sent you.
The form of the ring in this game, an ellipse or ellipsoid, is unique. Most of the other features are unusual also. Thus: There are two actors within the ring, one near each end, and they perform in dumb show only, the singing being wholly by the chorus. At the last words Minnie steps across to Charlie and kisses him, thus giving them meaning, I suppose. They then pass out of the ring together. But in
AS I WAS GOING UP YONDER HILL
despite its chilly refrain, there is not a hint of even a passing shadow. All sing:
As I was going up yonder hill,
Yonder hill, yonder hill,
As I was going up yonder hill,
One cold and frosty morning,
I met my true love on the way,
On the way, on the way,
I met my true love on the way,
One cold and frosty morning.
And what do you think he said to me,
Said to me, said to me,
And what do you think he said to me,
One cold and frosty morning?
He said, "Will you marry me,
Marry me, marry me?"
He said, "Will you marry me?"
One cold and frosty-morning.
If you will, I'll give you a gay gold ring,
Gay gold ring, gay gold ring,
If you will, I'll give you a gay gold ring,
One cold and frosty morning.
The subsequent offers admit of great latitude and variety. At last one is accepted, and simultaneously the child in the center chooses a companion.
In another courtship game,
HERE SHE STANDS, A LOVELY CREATURE,
a dialogue has become blended into an unbroken song, in which all join:
Here she stands, a lovely creature,
Who she is I do not know;
For her beauty I will choose her,
Whether she says yes or no.
Madam, I have gold and silver;
Madam, I have ships on the ocean;
Madam, I have house and land.
What care I for your gold and silver?
What care I for ships on the ocean?
What care I for house and land?
All I want is a line young man.
Then the girl in the middle selects a member of the ring, who becomes a "lovely creature" in turn.
THE WIND BLOWS LOW, THE WIND BLOWS HIGH
Here is another, which opens impressively, but ends crudely enough. The first line in this, as in most cases, answers for title:
The wind blows low, the wind blows high,
The stars are dropping from the sky,
And Jennie says she'll surely die
If she don't get a lover with a dark-blue eye.
He is happy, he is pretty,
He is the boy of Washington city.
KING WILLIAM WAS KING JAMES'S SON,
as played among us, is chiefly notable for a curious corruption in the fourth line, where an aboriginal reminiscence sometimes takes the place of the time-honored "sign of war." The game begins with one player in the ring, nominally, at least, masculine. They sing around him:
King William was King James's son,
Upon a royal race he run,
Upon his breast he wore a star,
Which was called the diamond squaw.
Go choose your east, go choose your west,
Go choose the one that you love best.
If she's not there to take your part,
Go choose the one that's next your heart.
Down on this carpet you must kneel,
As sure as grass grows in the field,
And kiss your bride and love her sweet,
And rise and stand upon your feet.
All this being duly acted out, "King William" joins the ring, leaving the bride to reign and choose in his stead.
From this very familiar game we pass to one that is quite new:
DOWN IN THE MEADOW
It is played in the same way. All sing:
Down in the meadow, where the green grass grows,
There stands Minnie with a horn and a nose.
She blows, she blows, she blows so sweet,
She calls Johnny (surname) to kiss her sweet.
This done they moralize:
Never be ashamed to marry a nice young man,
Who works for his living as hard as he can.
Or sometimes encouragingly:.
He's nothing but a boy,
But he'll soon be a man;
He works for his living
As hard as he can.
Perhaps "a horn and a nose" should be "a horn that knows." The change would be slight compared to the transformation of "Row the boat" into "Roly-boll," or the conversion of "Green grow the rushes O" into "O, how she blushes so!" Moreover, a knowing or magical horn is a traditional property of early minstrelsy.
LITTLE SALLY WATERS
A girl in the center pretends to weep. The others sing:
Little Sally Waters, sitting in the sand,
Weeping, crying, for a young man.
Rise, Sally, rise, wipe your eyes;
Point to the east, point to the west,
Point to the one that you love best,
which she does with the usual result. This game has been reported from several parts of England and the United States, with some changes of words, but none of sentiment. It is the only one, I think, to mention Waters and sand.
Two games, having very little in common except the manner of playing, pass by the name of
GREEN GROWS THE WILLOW TREE [See "Green grow the rushes O," No. 7, Newell.]
a. In the first, which has, I fancy, the better right to the title, the children in the ring go round a girl in the middle, singing:
Green grows the willow tree,
Green grows the willow tree,
Come, my love, where are you been?
Come and sit beside of me.
O, how she blushes so!
Kiss her sweet and let her go,
And don't you-let her mother know.
There is not in my collection a more engaging bit of arch and absolute simplicity, notwithstanding that dangerous conclusion.
The second form looks like a graft on this stock of Mr. Newell's "Rose in the garden," yet one cannot be certain.
GREEN GROWS THE WILLOW TREE
b. The song this time is:
Green grows the willow tree,
Green grows the willow tree,
Green grows the willow tree;
Up steps a lady with a rose in her hand.
A girl steps into the middle, thus far vacant, and sings:
Bargain, bargain, you young man;
You promised to marry me long ago;
You promised to marry me, you shan't say no.
All in chorus:
Up steps a lady with a rose in her hand.
All stoop down. The last one to stoop has to name her "beau" as a forfeit.
LILY, LILY, WHITE FLOWERS
gives one the same feeling of sweet bells that were not always jangled in tune:
Lily, lily, white flowers,
Growing up so high;
We are all young ladies,
And we are sure to die.
These pretty verses recall
Spenser's Maidens, lily white,
All ranged in a ring and dancing for delight,
but the lines appended to them are an odd fragmentary jumble:
Clap your hands, tiddy-bo-teague;
Who comes in is a nice young man,
With a rose in his bosom.
Tomorrow, to morrow is a very good day,
Tomorrow, to-morrow is a very good day.
This is nearly meaningless until we compare it with the following variant:
Walters, Walters, wild flowers,
Growing up so high;
We are all young ladies,
And we are sure to die.
To-morrow, to-morrow is the wedding day.
I think Johnny Thompson is a nice young man,
And they shall get married to-morrow.
To-morrow, to-morrow the wedding will begin
In an old tin-pan.
ROCKING CHAIR,
in its present shape, is direct and business-like, if not very poetical. The method of it is much like Little Sally Waters. All sing:
I went to Mr. Johnson's
To buy a rocking chair,
And who should I see there
But Willie and his dear!
He kisses her, he hugs her,
He calls her his dear;
He makes her a present
Of a handsome rocking chair.
The furniture would indicate an American origin; but some of the lines are nearly identical with a courtship rhyme in Chambers' Popular Rhymes of Scotland.
ROLY-BOLL
has a distinct plot rather dramatically stated. A girl being in the center the rest sing to her:
Roly-boll, roly-boll, let your beau's name.
She gives that of some boy.
Then all sing together, using his name and hers:
Mr. Blunk is handsome,
Mrs. Dash is handsome as he,
And they will get married,
As they wish to be.
O, dear doctor, can you tell
What will make this lady well?
A sword and pistol by his side,
And that's what makes the lady cry.
Sword and pistol by his side,
The wedding day is over;
Sword and pistol by his side,
The wedding day is over.*
[* See section 3 of "Marriage ;" also, "Uncle John," No. 16 of Mr. Newell's Songs and Games.]
During the singing (by the ring) the bride stands in the middle weeping.
I LIKE COFFEE AND I LIKE TEA
contains a naive confession of feminine strategy:
I like coffee and I like tea;
I like troys and the boys like me.
I'll tell my mother when I get home
The boys wont let the girls alone.
O sweet beans and barley grows,
O sweet beans and barley grows,
Nor you nor I nor nobody knows
How O sweet beans and barley grows.
We're waiting for a partner,
We're waiting for a partner,
So open the ring
And choose your queen
And kiss her when you get her in.
The fifth and all succeeding lines, as well as those which follow, are borrowed from a common game of imitation, in which the same curious misleading of sense by sound is the rule, at least with us.
"O sweet beans and barley grows" is a title warranted by right of usage. As in the game last mentioned, the ring whirls and sings around one in the center, but mimicry is added at the appropriate words:
O sweet beans and barley grows,
'Tis O sweet beans and barley grows;
You nor I nor nobody knows,
But O sweet beans and barley grows.
'Tis the way the farmer does,
'Tis the way the farmer does:
Stamps his foot and claps his hands,
And turns around to view the lands.
We're waiting for a partner,
We're waiting for a partner;
Open the ring and choose her in
And kiss her when you get her in.
It will be quite evident that these two games (leaving out the satirical introduction to the first) are rather distorted outgrowths of the widely-disseminated May Day song, which Mr. Newell supposes to be "of romance descent."
THERE WAS A YOUNG LADY WHO SAT DOWN TO SLEEP
is sung to the same tune as Humpsy and acted out in the same way. Here we have the bare bones of that wonder tale which had charmed the fancies of men before Sigurd awoke Brunehild from her enchanted slumber.
A girl seated in the middle of the ring pretends to sleep, while the song goes on:
There was a young lady who sat down to sleep,
Sat down to sleep, sat down to sleep,
There was a young lady who sat down to sleep,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
She wants a young gentleman to keep her awake,
To keep her awake, to keep her awake,
She wants a young gentleman to keep her awake,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
Write down his name and tell it to me,
And tell it to me, and tell it to me,
Write down his name and tell it to me,
Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
The elected one enters the ring and awakens her by a kiss. He then takes her place as the sleeping beauty.
RING AROUND A ROSY
has certainly been played in Washington within a few years, but my little informants could only remember the first two lines:
King around a rosy,
Pocket full of posies.
TAILOR BOY
is fairly popular. He stands in the middle. The others do the singing:
Here comes a jolly, jolly tailor boy,
Just lately come from town;
He makes his work in a very pretty way,
As we go marching round,
As we go marching round and round,
As we go marching round.
He takes his partner in a very pretty way,
And kisses her on the gmund.
Thereupon he selects one and kisses her. More often he is a "sailor boy." As played by a sea-shore party of children from Washington, Baltimore, and certain Maryland villages, it began as a vis-a-vis game, the sailor boy facing the others. Then they sang:
Here comes a jolly, jolly sailor boy,
Just lately come on shore;
He spends his time in a merry, merry way,
Just as he did before.
He fell in love with a very pretty girl,
And kissed her kneeling down.
Swing around and around and around,
Swing around and around.
At the fifth line he selected one of the girls from the line; at the sixth, knelt and kissed her; then rose. At the word "swing" the pair took hold of hands and swung around. Then the girl selected another from the line in the same way, forming a ring of three, and so on, with repetitions of the song, until all were circling together. I am inclined to think this the more correct version.
I first heard
THE MAN IN THE CELL (Mr. Newell's "The farmer in the dell")
sung by colored children, perhaps more familiar with the phenomena of station-houses than with those of the hill country. Afterwards white children, still retaining the cell, gave it to me in more complete form, the final four lines being added by a nurse:
The man in the cell,
The man in the cell,
High O! Cherry O!
The man in the cell.
The man rings the bell,
The man rings the bell,
High O! Cherry O!
The man rings the bell.
The man takes a wife,
The man takes a wife,
High O! Cherry O!
The man takes a wife.
The wife takes the child,
The wife takes the child,
High O! Cherry O!
The wife takes the child.
The child takes the nurse,
The child takes the nurse,
High O! Cherry O!
The child takes the nurse.
The nurse takes the dog,
The nurse takes the dog.
High O! Cherry O!
The nurse takes the dog.
The dog takes the cat,
The dog takes the cat,
High O! Cherry O!
The dog takes the cat.
The cat takes the rat,
The cat takes the rat,
High O! Cherry O!
The cat takes the rat.
So we'll all stand still,
And we'll all clap hands,
High O! Cherry O!
We'll all clap hands.
This reads like a satire on the cumulative consequences of matrimony. Its refrain may very probably have been Heigh-ho, Cheery O. Mr. Newell gives Rowley instead of cheery or cherry.
QUAKERS is a ring game in a different sense. The players are seated in a ring. Each in succession asks her neighbor on one side:
"Neighbor, neighbor, how art thee?"
"Very well, I thank thee."
"How is neighbor next to thee?"
"I don't know, but I'll go see."
ROUND AND ROUND THE VALLEY is a pretty and spirited game, full of the pleasure of motion. The hero of the piece is at first outside of the ring, which circles, singing:
Go round and round the valley,
Go round and round the valley,
Go round and round the valley,
As we are all so gay!
The ring then halts and they sing:
Go in and out the window,
Go in and out the window,
Go in and out the window,
As we are all so gay!
During this second verse the leading player enters the ring under the clasped hands of two ring-members, then passes out again though the next "window" of the same sort, and thus back and forth around the circle. At last he stops on the inside and indicates his choice. Then the song becomes:
Go in and face your lover,
Go in and face your lover,
Go in and face your lover,
As we are all so gay!
The chosen one enters during this stave and take up the burden, addressing the first player:
I'm in because I love you,
I'm in because I love you,
I'm in because I love you,
As we are all so gay!
The reply is:
What love have I to show you?
What love have I to show you?
What love have I to show you?
As we are all so gay!
SUGAR LUMP
begins with one in the middle:
Bounce around, my sugar lump,
Bounce around, my sugar lump,
Bounce around, my sugar lump,
Bounce around too.
Lower the window, my sugar lump (all stoop),
Lower the window, my sugar lump,
Lower the window, my sugar lump,
Lower the window too.
Hoist the window, my sugar lump (they rise),
Hoist the window, my sugar lump,
Hoist the window, my sugar lump,
Hoist the window too.
Don't miss a window, my sugar lump (she runs in and out),
Don't miss a window, my sugar lump,
Don't miss a window, my sugar lump,
Don't miss a window too.
This game is played like "Go round" and " Round the valley." It seems to continue until a window is missed.
AS WE GO ROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH
is played here, and probably as much as elsewhere, with a versicle for the work of every day, but I have not seen it, and the reports are too incomplete to be worth giving.
BLIND FROG
While the members of the ring shout these words the blindfolded one in the middle hops about and tries to catch one.
LOST
There is a single player outside of the ring. He or she marches around it, striking each member of it successively with a handkerchief and crying:
I lost my handkerchief Saturday night
And found it Sunday morning.
Lost, lost, lost!
Finally she drops the article at the foot of one of them and runs, with him or her in hot pursuit. Another form of the chant is
LUCY LOCKET
Lucy Locket lost her pocket,
Katy Gray found it.
Lost, lost, lost!
And yet another:
Lady Locket lost her pocket,
Lady Fisher found it,
And every night she went to bed
And dreamed her cows were drowned.
Lost, lost, lost!
Lucy Locket and Kitty Fisher are said to abide in the Beggars' Opera, with most of that quatrain.
VIS-A-VIS GAMES
No one ring game is, perhaps, quite so frequently heard or seen as
HERE COME THREE DUKES A RIDING
The children are all in line, except one, who dances up to them and back again, singing:
Here comes one duke a riding,
A riding, a-riding.
Here comes one duke a- riding,
Sir Ransom Tansom Tiddy Bo Teek.
The last line is sung during his return. He then stands still, while the line in like manner dances up to him and back, singing, in like manner:
I'm riding here to get married,
Married, married,
I'm riding here to get married,
Sir Ransom Tansom Tiddy Bo Teek.
They answer, dancing with great show of derision:
You're too black and dirty,
Dirty, dirty,
You're too black and dirty,
Sir Random Tansom Tiddy Bo Teek.
He replies defiantly, the backward and forward movement being always the same:
I look as good as you do,
You do, you do,
I look as good as you do,
Sir Ransom Tansom Tiddy Bo Teek.
They respond:
Well, who do you think will have you,
Have you, have you?
Well, who do you think will have you?
Sir Ransom Tansom Tiddy Bo Teek.
He returns:
I think Miss Lucy will have me,
Have me, have me,
I think Miss Lucy will have me,
Sir Ransom Tansom Tiddy Bo Teek.
The supposition usually proves correct, and the lady of his choice becomes strangely metamorphosed into a second duke. Then the game takes a new start, with " Here come two dukes a riding," and proceeds as before. In other places the refrain takes other forms; for example, "ransy dansy dukes," "ransom dansom dee, "ransy tansy tee," and even "dilsy dulsy officer."
In spite of the peculiar style of compliment, this game is a spirited and pleasing spectacle.
THREE KINGS
I have never witnessed this game, but give the following account of it as I get it from children. Three suitors approach a mother and daughter and say:
Here come three sweeps,
And at your door
They bend their knees (doing so).
May we have lodgings here, O here,
May we have lodgings here?
The mother replies, "No." The suitors recede and then approach again, saying:
Here come three bakers,
And at your door They bend their knees. May we have lodgings here, O here, May we have lodgings here? The mother replies, "No." They recede asecond time and again approach, saying:
Here come three kings,
And at your door
They bend their knees.
May we have lodgings here, O here,
May we have lodgings here?
The mother relents and answers:
Yes; here is my daughter all safe and sound,
And in her pocket a thousand pound,
And on her finger a Guinea-gold ring,
And she's quite fit to walk with the king.
She hands over the daughter, for whom the suitors pretend to search. Then they bring her back to the mother and say:
Here is your daughter, safe and sound,
And in her pocket no thousand pound,
And on her finger no Guinea-gold ring;
She's not fit to walk with the king.
They run and the mother runs after them. If she catches one, the latter becomes the mother for the next game. I have not found "Knights of Spain," an elder brother of these two games, unless we ascribe to it the following fragment, recited in the same vibratory fashion as the Three Dukes:
THE ONE THAT'S FAIREST IN YOUR SIGHT
The fairest one that here I see
Is Julia (some name) to walk with me.
THE OLD WOMAN FROM HARBARY
is very frequently seen on our streets. She advances with her daughters on each side of her, all dancing, in line, toward a husband-elect, who stands by himself. The mother sings, the children sometimes joining, I believe:
Here comes an old woman from Barbary,
Barbary, Barbary,
Here comes an old woman from Barbary;
Oh, who'll take one of my daughters?
One can bake and one can spin
And one can make a lily-white cake;
Oh, who'll take one of my daughters?
He chooses and retains one, and the line dances back, singing:
Now poor Nell has gone away,
Gone away, gone away;
In her pocket a thousand dollars,
On her hand a solid gold ring.
Good bye, Nell, good-bye.
This is repeated until all have been chosen but one, who assumes the character of husband, and the child who filled that role before now becomes the old woman from liarbary in turn until all the "daughters" have been traded off again.
SWING OVER THE GATE, VOLINSEY,
has come into Washington from down the river, perhaps only for a time. Two players, hand in hand, inarch towards two others, linked similarly, all vociferating, "Bow-wow-wow!" Then they take hands all round and whirl about, singing:
Swing over the gate, Volinsey.
What it means, if anything, and who Volinsey is or was may be as worthy of study as the identity of Sir Ransom Tansom, the NorthAfrican nationality of our thrifty widow, or the very odd refrain ol
BLACKBERRY WINE
Two girls, hand in hand, face two others. The first pair, dancing forward and backward, sing:
Have you got any blackberry wine,
Blackberry wine, blackberry wine?
Have you got any blackberry wine,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri?
The first three lines are sung as they advance, the last one as they recede. The other pair then advance and retire, singing likewise:
Yes, we have some blackberry wine,
Blackberry wine, blackberry wine;
Yes, we have some blackberry wine,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri.
The song proceeds in this manner, the couples taking it up alternately:
Will you lend me a pint of it,
Pint of it, pint of it?
Will you lend me a pint of it,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri?
No, I wont lend you a pint of it,
Pint of it, pint of it;
No, I wont lend you a pint of it,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri.
Then I'll break your dishes up,
Dishes up, dishes up;
Then I'll break your dishes up,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri.
Then I'll break your tumblers up,
Tumblers up, tumblers up;
Then I'll break your tumblers up,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri.
Then I'll send for the red-coat men,
Red coat men, red-coat men;
Then I'll send for the red-coat men,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri.
What care I for the redcoat men,
Red-coat men, redcoat men! (With great flaunting of defiance)
What care I for the red-coat men,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri!
Then I'll send for the blue-coat men,
Blue-coat men, blue-coat men (As before).
What care I for the blue-coat men,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri!
Well, are you ready for a fight, fight, fight,
For a fight, fight, fight, for a fight, fight, fight?
Well, are you ready for a fight, fight, fight,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri?
Yes, I'm ready for a fight, fight, fight,
For a fight, fight, fight, for a fight, fight, tight;
Yes, I'm ready for a fight, fight, fight,
Mizzouri and Mizzauri.
All four roll up their sleeves and make pretense of a furious onset.
ARCHWAY GAMES
The feature which gives name to this little group will sufficiently appear from a description of
LONDON BRIDGE,
which has held its own in the favor of children and the memory of adults for many generations. Two children agree on two articles—for example, a gold thimble and a gold ear-ring—as badges and shibboleths of their respective parties. Then they join hands and raise them to form an arch, representing the bridge. Then they drop their hands and catch one of the line passing through, whom they carry away, singing:
You stole my watch and broke my chain,
Broke my chain, broke my chain,
You stole my watch and broke my chain,
So fare you well, my lady love.
Off to prison you will go,
You will go, you will go,
Off to prison you will go,
So fare you well, my lady love.
Then they whisper to their captive, "Which would you rather have, a gold thimble or a gold ring?" According to the choice the prisoner's companions fall into line and pass through, while the pair forming the bridge sing:
London bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down.
London bridge is falling down,
So fare you well, my lady love.
What will it take to build it up,
Build it up, build it up?
What will it take to build it up?
So fare you well, my lady love.
Lime and water will build it up,
Build it up, build it up,
Lime and water will build it up,
So fare you well, my lady love.
A new bridge is formed and the marching and singing are resumed, with the same result is before. By this procedure, repeated again and again, all the children are finally arranged in two lines, with their leaders facing each other. The latter take hold of hands, and the two parties pull to see which is the stronger. The sport usually ends in a general downfall.
It should be mentioned that the little girls in passing through the archway often catch hold of each other by the gown behind, forming a marching ring, if they are numerous enough; but this is only a temporary, and probably accidental, element.
The same may be true of two interpolated stanzas which I once heard:
Here comes a hatchet to cut off your head,
To cut off your head, to cut off your head,
Here comes a hatchet to cut off your head,
So fare you well, my lady love.
Here comes a wheelbarrow to roll over you,
To roll over you, to roll over you.
Here comes a wheelbarrow to roll over you,
So fare you well, my lady love.
Nevertheless they fit in rather oddly with Mr. Newell's theory that the original kernel of the game was the pre-Christian belief in malevolent beings, who destroyed bridges and could be propitiated only by human sacrifice. The refrain above given takes (invariably, I think) the place among us of the prettier, but less significant, "Dance over my Lady Lee." Should
OPEN THE GATES AS HIGH AS THE SKY
be regarded as a variety of the foregoing? I hardly think so. Only the title has reached me of late years, though it is still played; but I remember very well the second line,
And let King George's men pass by.
Have we not in this rather stately couplet a reminder of that frequent though stirring mediaeval picture, the passage of an armed force through a portcullis-guarded gateway.
This leads us naturally to less chivalric
GAMES OF MIMICRY
Some such have already been given, but I retain for this general heading a group not easily classified by form.
WHEN I WAS A SHOEMAKER
is, perhaps, the most common of these. The children stand in a row, all imitating successively the motions of each mentioned trade or type of person while singing the words that relate thereto:
When I was a shoemaker
A shoemaker was I,
And this-a way and that-a way
And this-a way went I.
When I was a carpenter &c.,
with as long a list of occupations as maybe desired, commonly ending with
When I was a gentleman
A gentleman was I,
And this-a way and that-a way
And this-a way went I.
When I was a lady
A lady was I,
And this-a way and that-a way
And this-a way went I.
NEW YORK.
The players are divided into two parties, which stand in line facing away from each other, their positions being indicated by lines of chalk or charcoal drawn on the pavement. One line turns around and advances, announcing, "Here we come." The children in the other line also turn and inquire, "Where from?"
"New York."
"What's your trade?"
They imitate in dumb show the motions of any occupation which may have been agreed on. The others guess what it is. If right the imitating party cry, "Yes," and endeavor to escape to their own chalk line or base. The members of. the other party pursue, making recruits of all prisoners. The fugitives who reach the base are safe. The pursuers then return and select a trade for mimicry, the roles of the parties being reversed. When the first guess fails additional trials are allowed before the flight and chase. The name of any other place may be substituted for "New York."
This game is a curious instance of grafting one imitation on another, for
Prisoners' Base,
which contributes everything except the trade mimicry, is itself a very good representation of primitive warfare as practiced in many parts of the world. The linear arrangement of the combatants, the sallies and "dares," the pursuit by individual champions, even the incorporation of captives in the conquering tribe, will all be readily recognized.
POST OFFICE,
the very barest of kissing games, brings us back to civilization, copying closely (with change of coin) what sometimes occurs at the delivery window over unpaid postage. The "postmaster" announces, "Letters in the post office for you," and the girl indicated has to step out and pay for them in kisses. The extent of the tax is limited only by the requirements that he shall announce the number of letters (and consequently of kisses) in advance. The girls are in line, the postmaster being in front of them.
CRACK THE WHIP
is played by a line holding hands, the last player at one end facing to the rear. He or she turns half round and runs along behind the row, the others successively joining in this motion as best they can until the player at the other end flies out like the snapping of a whip cord.
MOUSE-TRAP
Four players take hold of hands to form an enclosure. A fifth creeps about within it, pretending to nibble. The first four sing:
O mousie dear, O mousie dear,
Take my advice and run away.
JUMPING GAMES
The simplest of these is known as
MAMMY DADDY
The children try who can longest continue jumping from one foot to the other, singing:
Mammy Daddy jumped the gutter,
Loaf of bread and a pound of butter.
BAKING BREAD
requires a rope with two to turn it. The performer holds in one hand a stone (representing a loaf of bread, I suppose) while she jumps three times. Then she puts the stone down and jumps three times without it. This alternation continues till she comes in contact with the rope and has to change places with one of the turners.
ROCKING THE CRADLE
The rope is oscillated three times, then turned three times, this alternation being continued until a miss occurs, with the same result as before.
FOX AND GOOSE
The players (except those who are turning) form in line one behind another, usually beginning with the eldest and ending with the youngest, and run under the rope successively. Then they form similarly in line on the other side and skip " back door " over the rope; then a line and one jump for each; then a line and a skip; then a line and two jumps, etc. The penalty of missing is as before.
PILE OF BRICKS
In this the rope is raised after every jump, every such elevation being counted as a brick. At last the pile gets too high for some player and she misses.
SKIPPING-ROPE PROPHETS
Little girls are constantly practicing augury with the skippingrope. Most of these deliverances take for their topic the incidents or consequences of wedlock. "Silk, satin, velvet, calico, rags!"— they cry, keeping time to the words, and the one which marks a failure in leaping foretells the nuptial apparel of the girl who fails. The same test is applied to equipage, social position, and even the tint of the children.
But the most interesting game of the rope is what we may call
MARRIAGE BY THE KNIFE
While the rope is turning two girls run in and jump side by side, all singing vigorously:
By the holy and religerally law I many this Indian to this squaw; By the point of my jack-knife I pronounce you man and wife. A friend gives the following as the first line:
By the Holy Evangels of the Lord.
From New England conies another form: By the old Levitical law; or, in a fourth version, "Leviticus law." Virginia makes it The Bible is a holy and visible law. Divers endings have been reported to me from remote parts of the country as taking the place of the liturgical cold steel. Two are borrowed from Marriage as reported by Mr. Newell, viz.:
You must be kind, you must be good,
And split up all her oven wood.
And
You must be kind, you must be true,
And kiss the bride, and she'll kiss you.
Only one is in proper aboriginal keeping:
Sober live and sober proceed,
And so bring up your Indian breed.
There is a very active tendency to lay on good advice and spare not in all the forms which are traceable directly or indirectly to New England—that is to say, in every version which has reached me, except the two in this District and the one still employed by Virginia negroes.
Even more crude if not equally savage is
CHARLIE BUCK,
not precisely a jumping game, but nearly akin. It often may be heard attending the motion of a swing or hammock, as a metrical measurement of fun and dizziness:
Charlie Buck
Had money enough
To lock himself in the store-room;
So when he dies
He shuts his eyes,
And never see Charlie no more.
High swing,
Low swing,
Die away Charlie, this day.
The swinging dies away with the words and the occupant must make way for a successor. I know nothing whatever of the meaning or history of this jargon beyond what appears in the words themselves; but it seems to be in exclusive possession of its particular field.
There is a more sensible
RHYME FOR JACKS
In this game a set of oddly shaped bits of metal are picked up by the fingers, alternating in divers ways with the motion of a ball tossed upward. The various figures, as they may be called, of this play bear the names of Oneses, Twoses, Threeses, Sweeping the Stairs, Apple Barrel, Milking the Cow, and Putting Horses in the Stable. There are others, but few players are so proficient as to get beyond a very few of those which are best known. The jingle which gives regularity to the movements, however rapid, is
Jack was nimble,
Jack was quick,
Jack jumped over the candlestick;
The candlestick was made of brass,
So, Jack, I've caught you now at last.
Sometimes the first two lines are in the present imperative.
A MARCH
I have met a formidable array of small children shouting in high glee-
Here we go, two by two,
My little sister jinktum joo,
Hither, hither,
Because she 's afraid of the bugaboo.
I learn that the unintelligible final sounds of the second line should be "lost her shoe." The "bugaboo," whether permanent or not, has a mythological value. "Hither," an unfamiliar word among little people, seems to mark my version as authentic, besides calling for some such timorous explanation. Nevertheless this pendant is not found with Mr. Newell's New York form nor in a slightly more complete one reported from Baltimore:
Here we go, two by two,
Dressed in yellow, pink, and blue,
Poor old maids.
RIGMAROLES AND JINGLES,
traditional among children, but not properly belonging to any game, are rather plentiful. Their uses are as various as their origin. Some accompany dancing and serve to time the steps. Thus:
PUT VOUR FOOT DOWN
Put your foot down,
Put your foot down,
Put your foot down
Just so.
Again:
MOBILE BUCK
Give me the sign of the Mobile, Mobile,
Give me the sign of the Mobile buck.
Here comes Jennie with the Mobile, Mobile,
Here comes Jennie with the Mobile buck;
And all the birds of the Mobile, Mobile,
And all the birds of the Mobile buck.
There is a piece of music having the same name, but without words. Nevertheless those given above may be the remnant of some comparatively recent street song with more meaning in it than they have now.
Others are used for purposes of divination; for example:
STAR, STAR THAT SHINES SO BRIGHT.
Star, star that shines so bright,
The first star I've seen to night,
I hope, I wish, I hope I may,
I hope my wish may come true
To-morrow night
Hallowe'en
CHARM
I shape my shoes in the shape of a T,
Hoping my true love for to see,
The color of his eyes and the color of his hair,
And the color uf the clothes that he every day wears.
The magical practices which go with the words are, perhaps, forgotten among us, but they were in use jestingly not very many miles from this city a few years ago.
Others are relics of conjuration:
Lady bug, lady bug, fly away to your home,
Your house is on fire and your children will burn.
Rain, rain, go away;
Come back on my mother's washing day.
Two little blackbirds sitting on a hill,
One named Jack and the other named Jill;
Fly away Jack, fly away Jill;
Come back Jack, come back Jill.
This last invocation accompanies a pretty set of motions. Two fingers (one of each hand), being slightly moistened, take up two slips of paper. The player raps on the table, tosses up the fingers, pretends to make the birds fly, then changes fingers to hide the slips, and finally exhibits them as having returned.
This brings our magic very close to the
CATCHES AND RIDDLES
Of these are
Twenty-nine and one?
Thirty.
Your face is dirty.
April's gone, summer's come;
You're a fool and I'm none.
A flock of white sheep
On a red bill,
Here they go, there they go,
Now they stand still.
The teeth and lips.
Tell story?
Who?
My old shoe,
Dressed in blue,
That came walking down the avenue.
Sometimes the jingles are mere bits of derision:
Red-headed sinner,
Come down to your dinner.
Red-headed fox,
Stole your mother's pigeon-box.
Reddy in the woods
Can't catch a butterfly.
Sometimes they are aphorisms or wise queries:
Over latch, under latch,
It takes good kisses to make a match.
Where was little Moses when the light went out, What was he adoing and what was he about? One is a dialogue recited as a monologue, for no reason that is apparent except with
I climbed up the apple tree
And all the apples fell on me.
Make a pudding, make a pie.
Did you ever tell a lie?
Yes, you did, you know you did,
You stole your mother's teapot lid.
Another I at first attributed to the plantation, on account of its "Master Fox" and witchlike aspect:
Riddledy, riddledy, riddledy right,
Where were you last Saturday night?
The wind did blow, my heart did quake,
The great old hole Master Fox did make!
But in an Oxfordshire folk-tale reported by Mr. Halliwell it occurs (approximately) with a context which gives it meaning:
One moonshiny night as I sat high,
Waiting for one to come by,
The boughs did bend, my heart did ache
To see what a hole the fox did make.
The fox being a treacherous and murderous lover who was digging a grave for the woman he expected to kill. Through another channel I learn also of the entire tale as having existed in this country not many years ago. No doubt the prose part slipped away from the memories of the children in some places, and the four rhyming lines were converted into a puzzle. In its transition the first line may have been "Riddle my riddle, O riddle aright."
Two or three others are bits of childish sentiment.
BOBBY SHAFTON
Bobby Shafton's gone to sea,
Gone to sea,
With silver buckles on his knee,
On his knee;
He's going to come back and marry me,
Marry me.
I wish I were a china cup,
In which they all drink tea, because the one that drank it up
Would give a kiss to me.
That might have come out of Mr. Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verses.
Others are used for counting:
One, two, buckle my shoe;
Three, four, shut the door;
Five, six, pick up sticks;
Seven, eight, lay them straight;
Nine, ten, a good fat hen;
Eleven, twelve, in the well;
Thirteen, fourteen, boys acourtin';
Fifteen, sixteen, maids in the kitchen;
Seventeen, eighteen, maids awaitin';
Nineteen, twenty, your plate's empty.
Sometimes ending with
* * * twenty-four,
Mary's at the cottage door,
Eating grapes upon a plate,
Five, six, seven, eight.
But the oddest rigmarole is
A MAN OF WORDS AND NOT OF DEEDS
Its origin is unknown, though in the Harleian MSS. there is one form of the time of James I. Afterward it seems to have been applied to purposes of indecent wit and political burlesque, the latter 0n the battle of Culloden. Mr. Halliwell gives this last version, which begins with
Double dee, double day,
and ends with
Like our Geordie's bloody battle.
Many of the intervening lines are almost or quite identical with those now used by Washington children. These have brought it back to what may have been its first intention, the mere sport of thought chasing words instead of leading them:
Deed'n deed'n double deed,
I sowed my garden full ol seed.
When the seed began to grow,
Like a garden full of snow;
When the snow began to melt,
Like a garden full of hemp;
When the hemp began to peel,
Like a garden full of steel;
When the steel began to rust,
Like a garden full of dust;
When the dust began to fly,
Like an eagle in the sky;
When the sky began to roar,
Like a Hun at my door;
When the door began to crack,
Like a hickory at my back;
When my back began to smart,
Like a penknife at my heart;
When my heart began to bleed,
Deed, indeed, I was dead indeed.
COUNTING-OUT RHYMES
These, perhaps, belong rather to folk numeration than to the children's games, in which they are employed as a convenient means of selecting the "old man" or other invidious and laborious character, generally by a process of successive elimination. A few of those employing recognizable English words may be welcome:
Play foot, strawfoot,
Specklefoot, crawfoot!
Some flew east, some flew west,
Some flew over the cuckoo's nest.
One, two, three, Nannie caught a flea;
The flea died, Nannie cried, Out goes she.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
All good children go to heaven.
Enee, menee, tipsy-toe,
Catch a nigger by the toe;
If he hollers let him go.
O-u-t Spells out goes he,
Right in the center of the dark-blue sea.
Rather suggestive, that, of the middle passage:
As I went up the golden lake
I met a little rattlesnake,
Who ate so much of jelly-cake
It made his little belly ache.
Doctor Franklin whipped his scholars
Out of Scotland into Spain
And then back again.
This is our only legacy from the legend of Dr. Faustus,
COUNTING PAPERS
In this, elimination by numbers becomes almost the entire game. A circle is formed with bits of paper, one piece, larger than the rest, being called the Boss. Beginning with any of them, seven are counted, and the one then reached is thrown away. The player begins again with the next, counts as before, and again throws away. This continues until the Boss is hit, when the game ends. The Dutch word above given may hint a New York origin, though it is common enough everywhere now. The magical number seven might, of course, come from anywhere.
GAMES OF HANDS AND FEET
Two of these are played by clapping the palms together, and alternating with this movement a similar clapping against the knees or face. The scheme of motion varies with the words, the latter being used for keeping time. They are as follows:
PEASE PORRIDGE HOT
Pease porridge hot,
Pease porridge cold,
Pease porridge in the pot Nine days old.
MISSY MASSY
Missy Massy gone away,
Won't come back till Saturday.
The first is common in many places. The second may be of negro origin.
THIS IS THE CHURCH
The fingers of one hand are passed through, from behind, toward the wrist, between those of the other hand, and the palms are brought toward each other; the index fingers are raised and made to converge; the combination is then inverted or the thumbs are preferably thrown apart, showing the finger-tips in bowing rows within. Every motion is timed to the appropriate words:
This is the church,
And this is the steeple;
Open the door And see all the people.
THIS LITTLE PIG WENT TO MARKET,
a game with infants, is played by older children as well as adults. The player touches or lightly takes hold of the baby's toes, one after the other, singing:
This little pig went to market;
This little pig staid at home;
This little pig had roast beef to eat;
This little pig got none;
This little pig said
"We, we, we, I wish I had some." ,
is played with an endless cord, which slips from one form to another on the fingers, each form having a traditional name and sequence. Captain Porter, during the cruise of the Essex three-quarters of a century ago, found the unclad Happah belles very expert in this amusement, and gives a glowing account of the exhibition.
GAMES WITH TOYS
It would be neither profitable nor practicable to go into the details of all these or even to name them; but certain odd or suggestive terms and practices maybe touched on in passing. Thus, mumblety peg, played with a knife (a savage survival) thrown at a target from the eyes, nose, and mouth; the use of "fen" in the old sense of defend, for prohibiting certain actions in playing at marbles; "conjure roots," pronounced while drawing a magic circle about one's own "alley" to baffle the enemy's aim; "duck on the rock," wherein a stone has life given it; the ancient and honorable game of quoits, wherein the discus keeps flying still; the "one old cat" and "two old cats" which dwell in the ball ground; the "bandy," whose crippling tactics may explain "bandy-legged ; " the winter "coasting;" the the Easter egg-picking and egg-rolling; and, leaving toys behind, the "horse heaven" and "cow heaven" of liberal Hopscotch.
DOG LATIN AND CAT LATIN
conversations occupy the time of the more erudite. The former are concocted by adding "us" to most words; the latter, by the similar addition of liga to syllables ending with a vowel and oliga, aliga, or iliga to those ending with a consonant. From such speech to
SILENCE
is not far. The word tells the whole story. Who speaks first loses. It may be the remnant of some belief in a spell, an imitation of "Quaker meeting," a commonplace test of endurance, or an invention of higher powers for promoting rest and quiet occasionally.
GAMES OF TRANSPOSITION
The most familiar of these is
PUSSY WANTS A CORNER
Its players outnumber the corners by one and scramble for them, the child left unprovided for being Pussy. She approaches one of the others and announces, "Pussy wants a corner." "Ask my neighbor," is the reply. As Pussy passes on to repeat the petition before the next, the girl just left tries to exchange places with her other neighbor, and Pussy hurries back to slip into one of the temporarily vacant corners if she can. This is repeated until the latter effort is successful. The girl or boy left out thereby becomes Pussy in her stead.
FRUIT BASKET
is more elaborate. Fourteen chairs (for example) are ranged in two parallel lines, facing one another. Fifteen girls play, all seated but one. The odd girl, standing in the space between, says " currants" (for instance) to one of the others, who must cry "currants, currants, currants," before the first speaker can repeat the word. Another and another of the seated girls is tried in the same way, a new and, as far as possible, unexpected fruit-name being chosen each time. As soon as one fails to deliver the triple utterance quickly enough, the children of the two rows rush to exchange places, and in the confusion the girl who has been standing gets a seat if she can. Of course one of the fifteen is left on her feet and the game begins again.
GUESSING GAMES
SUTTONS
offers an excellent chance for a mind-reader. The "buttoner" holds a "deem" over the head of the guesser and asks, "Fine or superfine?"-- i. e., a boy's or a girl's, the article being obtained from one of the players. If the reply be correct, the next question is, "What shall the owner do?" The guesser then states a forfeit, which the owner must pay or perform to redeem the pledge. If the first guesser makes a mistake another is tried in like manner. The game continues until every one has had a turn at redemption.
In
THIS AND THAT
all the players go out of the room except one, who touches an article in their absence and then calls them in, bidding them do likewise. As she does not name it they must guess. If they touch the wrong thing, she says, "This;" if the right thing, "That."
GAMES OF SEARCH
Under this head we must class the common infantile diversion of "Peek-a-boo," as well as the ancient open-air games of " Hide and seek," " I spy," and their modifications, in all which a person sought and discovered is the central idea. Here also we put
HIDE THE THIMBLE,
similar to "This and that," but unlike in its problem. Instead of guessing the identity of something unknown but visible, the players are to find something hidden but known. They are called by the couplet
Hot broad and butter,
Please come to supper.
While they search, the one who has hidden the article aids them by suggesting "Freezing," "Cold," "Hot," or "Burning," according to degrees of proximity.
STILL POND
One player is blindfolded and searches for the others, who are given a certain "start" to hide themselves. .
BLIND MAN'S BLUFF
As before, one is blindfolded. The rest of the party say to him, "Pick up some pins." The blind man stoops and pretends to try, answering: "I can't do it."
"Pick up some needles," they command. He goes through the same motion as before and again replies: "I can't do it."
They demand: "What kind of a coat does your father wear?" "Gray," he answers.
"Catch whom you may," they cry, and the groping pursuit begins. It is naturally a search rather than a chase, being usually played indoors and kept at a low rate of speed by his infirmity.
GAMES OF CHASE
TAG, CROSS-TAG, HAND CHASE, AND RED LINE
are the most rudimentary. The first is a chase and touch; the second compels the pursuit to be diverted when a second of the escaping party crosses the trail; the third makes a recruit of each one caught, so that there is a continually increasing line of pursuers, hand in hand; the fourth is the running of the gauntlet, the one caught taking the place of him who has lain in wait.
BULL-DOG
goes a step further. One girl says to the others, "Let us put on our clothes," and they pretend to dress for church. Then they start out in Sunday procession. This meets another child, the "bull-dog." They dance at him and from him, crying, " Bull-dog, bull-dog," till, in one of his rushes, he makes a capture. The prisoner becomes "bull-dog" in turn. Most likely this quadruped was something else at first, or why the hostility to religion?
ROTTEN EGG
A mother sends her children, one after the other, to find out whether the bread is done. Each reports affirmatively. She replies, "I don't believe it;" then pretends to go and see for herself. She declares, "It isn't done;" then pretends to beat them, swinging the child, each one successively with her left hand while she plies the switch with the right. Then every child of this parent is made to take a squatting posture, with hands clasped under the thighs. The mother and an assistant lift the child by the arms from the ground. If the clasped hands give way the child is placed on one side and said to go into "the apple barrel;" if not, she is set on the other side and said to go into "the sugar barrel."
The ending of this has gone sadly astray, no doubt, as will appear by comparison with its probable parent,
THE DEVIL IN THE BANDBOX
One child, assuming the role of the devil, hides himself. The "mother" sends her sons and daughters toward him successively, with the command, "Get me "(any article which may come to mind). The messenger pretends to make a frightful discovery, and rushes back, crying, "The Devil 's in the bandbox." The mother replies, "I don't believe you" and sends another. At last she goes in person, with all her tribe. Catching sight of the Devil, she cries, "Oh, sure enough, he is! " and they all run. The Devil springs out in pursuit and the one caught becomes Devil in turn.
This seems to be nearer to the idea of the German original mentioned by Mr. Newell than his "Ghost in the cellar" or Miss Courtney's Cornish "Ghost in the well" (Folk Lore Journal, January to March, 1887). I believe, though, that the Devil sometimes becomes a ghost with us.
OLD MAMMY TIPSY TOE
A mother gives her children sticks for needles and sets them a task, then walks off to get a switch. They follow, singing irreverently:
Old Mammy Tipsy Toe,
I've broke my needle
And I cannot sew.
She turns and asks, "Are these my children?" They reply, "No." The question is twice repeated, the third answer being "Yes." She pursues. If she catches one the latter becomes Old Mammy for next time.
Each of the disobedient children holds up her apron with both hands. The mother strikes it three times. If the "child" lets go, she must pretend to go into the house and complete the task.
MARLY BRIGHT.
Two players face each other. One is "the witch," presumably in disguise. The other seems to be a traveller. The dialogue proceeds:
How far from here to Marly bright?
Three score miles and ten.
Can I get there by candle-light?
Yes, and back again,
If the old witch doesn't get you.
Thereupon she springs out and the chase begins. This is a game of peculiar interest, being a descendant or collateral relative of the stately Barley Bridge, a favorite at court in Queen Elizabeth's day. But our "three score miles and ten" with the unknown one lurking by the way, hint a deeper thought than anything in the chivalric Scotch variant which Mr. Newell thinks may give us an idea of that older form. In
BIRDS
the occult knowledge of supernatural beings would seem to be the germ of the play. There are a row of "birds," a namer, and an angel. The namer, unheard by the angel, whispers a special name,such as "blue bird," "red bird," or "yellow bird," to each one of the birds, then stands in front facing them. The angel comes up and touches her on the back:
Namer. "Who is that?"
Angel. "It's me."
Namer. "What do you want?"
Angel. "I want some birds."
Namer. "What color?"
Angel. "Blue " (for example).
Namer. "Run, blue!" the angel having guessed the color chosen for one of them. A chase ensues. If the angel touches blue bird before the latter reaches a certain spot, blue bird becomes an angel and the angel becomes a bird. If the blue bird gains this asylum she goes back to her place in the row and the angel must try again. If the angel does not guess the color of any bird, the namer answers, "I haven't got any." If this occurs three times the namer exclaims irreverently: "Go back and learn your A B C's!" The angel then withdraws to her original post, but soon comes forward to try again. This continues till she has guessed correctly and caught a bird.
RIBBONS
is played like the latter, with this change of name for the row, except that there is a devil as well as an angel, and they alternate in their guessing. These games are notable for the mediaeval lack of ceremony in dealing with heaven and hell. I suppose that they probably once ended like Mr. Newell's "Colors," with a visible strife between the two.
CHILD-STEALING GAMES
The mythical and savage elements in these are very manifest. They seem to be related, and many intermediate or proximate forms are found in this country and Europe. They are known to be very old and are believed to be relics of an earlier drama or tale now utterly lost.
GIPSY,
preserves a memory of magic and (perhaps) cannibalism. A mother and child go to sleep. The gipsy enters and steals the child, who opens her eyes and goes with her captor to the latter's home. There she is named "blackberry pie" or after some other edible. The mother raps on the gipsy's back, as a door:
Gipsy. "Who's there?"
Mother. "Jack Frost."
Gipsy. "What do you want?"
Mothtr (for example). "Raspberry tart."
Gipsy. "It's in the oven baking,"
this guess being an approximation.
Mother. "Then custard pie." Gipsy. "We haven't got any." Mother. "Huckleberry pie." Gipsy. "Here she is." Mother. "Let me taste it." (Touches the child with a stick and puts the latter to her mouth.)
"Why, that tastes like my Julia" (or whatever the child's name may be). "What brought you here?"
Child. "My big toe."
Mother. "Well, take your big toe and march yourself home;" which is done.
This game passes under the name of "Old witch" in Cornwall.
Another nearly related goes in many places by the same name. I think the name "Old man" is more commonly used in Washington, though he is also spoken of as a witch, recalling the days when that word was used for both sexes.
OLD MAN
A mother having children for all the days of the week cautions Sunday, the eldest, to "take care of Monday and all the rest and don't let them get hurt. If you do, you know what I'll give you." After the mother has gone the witch comes in and says: "Little girl, please go (pointing) and get me a match for my pipe. There's a bull-dog over there and I am afraid to go." She goes for the match. He snatches up Monday and makes off. The mother returns.
Mother. "Where has my Monday gone?"
Sunday. "The old witch has got her."
Mother. "Do you know what I told you? I am goin^ to beat you."
She makes a pretense of doing so.
This programme is repeated until all the children are stolen except Sunday. At the next visit the witch says: "Little girl, little girl, come with me, and I'll give you some candy." She goes with him. All the children are shut up in a room. During the absence of the witch the mother breaks into it and rescues them.
CHICKAMY CRAMERY CROW
Witch discovered making a fire. Enter mother, with children behind her in single file, each grasping the clothes of the one next in front. This line marches around, singing:
Chickamy, chickamy, cramery crow,
I went to the well to wash my toe,
When I came back my chicken was gone.
Pausing before the fire-builder, the mother asks, in continuation of the song, "What time is it, old witch?" The witch replies, "One o'clock." The march and song are resumed. Oncoming around again, the question is repeated and the answer is "Two o'clock." This is continued, with ascending numerals, until the twelfth round. After the answer "twelve o'clock" this conversation begins:
Mother. "What are you doing there?"
Witch. "Making a fire."
Mother. "What are you making a fire for?"
Witch. "To roast chickens."
Mother. "Whose chickens?"
Witch (fiercely). "Those of your flock."
She springs out at them and they scatter.
I have found no other forms of the game in Washington (beyond trivial variations and repetitions), but on the Eastern Shore of Maryland the mother fights for the chickens. In Salem, Mass., the chant represents the chickens as "peckingbrown bread," and there are many other modifications.
The substance of the above paper was read before the society at its 104th regular meeting, February 2, 1886, under title of " Song Games and Myth Dances in Washington."