Part 11

After the chanting of this verse is ended, all the children commence an imitation of washing clothes, making appropriate movements with their hands, and saying,—

This is the way we wash our clothes, —Wash our clothes, wash our clothes: This is the way we wash our clothes On a cold frosty morning!

They then dance round, repeating the first stanza, after which the operation of drying the clothes is commenced with a similar verse, "This is the way we dry our clothes," &c. The game may be continued almost _ad infinitum_ by increasing the number of duties to be performed. They are, however, generally satisfied with mangling, _smoothing_ or ironing, the clothes, and then putting them away. Sometimes they conclude with a general cleaning, which may well be necessary after the large quantity of work that has been done:

This is the way we clean our rooms, —Clean our rooms, clean our rooms: This is the way we clean our rooms On a cold frosty morning!

And like good merry washing-women, they are not exhausted with their labours, but conclude with the song, "Here we go round the bramble-bush," having had sufficient exercise to warm themselves on any "cold frosty morning," which was doubtlessly the result, we may observe _en passant_, as a matter of domestic economy, aimed at by the author. It is not so easy to give a similar explanation to the game of the mulberry-bush, conducted in the same manner:

Here we go round the mulberry-bush, —The mulberry-bush, the mulberry-bush: Here we go round the mulberry-bush On a sunshiny morning.

In this game, the motion-cries are usually "This is the way we wash our clothes," "This is the way we dry our clothes," "This is the way we make our shoes," "This is the way we mend our shoes," "This is the way the gentlemen walk," "This is the way the ladies walk," &c. As in other cases, the dance may be continued by the addition of cries and motions, which may be rendered pretty and characteristic in the hands of judicious actors. This game, however, requires too much exercise to render it so appropriate to the season as the other.

THE GAME OF DUMP.

A boy's amusement in Yorkshire, in vogue about half a century ago, but now, I believe, nearly obsolete. It is played in this manner. The lads crowd round, and place their fists endways the one on the other, till they form a high pile of hands. Then a boy who has one hand free, knocks the piled fists off one by one, saying to every boy, as he strikes his fist away, "What's there, Dump?" He continues this process till he comes to the last fist, when he exclaims:

What's there? Cheese and bread, and a mouldy halfpenny! Where's my share? I put it on the shelf, and the cat got it. Where's the cat? She's run nine miles through the wood. Where's the wood? T' fire burnt it. Where's the fire? T' water sleckt (extinguished) it. Where's the water? T' oxen drunk it. Where's the oxen? T' butcher kill'd 'em. Where's t' butcher?

Upon the church-top cracking nuts, and you may go and eat the shells; and _them as_ speak first shall have nine nips, nine scratches, and nine boxes over the lug!

Every one then endeavours to refrain from speaking, in spite of mutual nudges and grimaces, and he who first allows a word to escape is punished by the others in the various methods adopted by schoolboys. In some places the game is played differently. The children pile their fists in the manner described above; then one, or sometimes all of them sing,—

I've built my house, I've built my wall; I don't care where my chimneys fall!

The merriment consists in the bustle and confusion occasioned by the rapid withdrawal of the hands.

DANCING LOOBY.

Now we dance looby, looby, looby, Now we dance looby, looby, light. Shake your right hand a little And turn you round about.

Now we dance looby, looby, looby, Shake your right hand a little, Shake your left hand a little, And turn you round about.

Now we dance looby, looby, looby, Shake your right hand a little, Shake your left hand a little, Shake your right foot a little, And turn you round about.

Now we dance looby, looby, looby, Shake your right hand a little, Shake your left hand a little, Shake your right foot a little, Shake your left foot a little, And turn you round about.

Now we dance looby, looby, looby, Shake your right hand a little, Shake your left hand a little, Shake your right foot a little, Shake your left foot a little, Shake your head a little, And turn you round about.

Children dance round first, then stop and shake the hand, &c., then turn slowly round, and then dance in a ring again.

DROP-GLOVE.

Children stand round in a circle, leaving a space between each. One walks round the outside, and carries a glove in her hand, saying,

I've a glove in my hand, Hittity Hot! Another in my other hand, Hotter than that! So I sow beans, and so they come up, Some in a mug, and some in a cup. I sent a letter to my love, I lost it, I lost it! I found it, I found it! It burns, it scalds!

Repeating the last words very rapidly, till she drops the glove behind one of them, and whoever has the glove must overtake her, following her exactly in and out till she catches her. If the pursuer makes a mistake in the pursuit, she loses, and the game is over; otherwise she continues the game with the glove.

NETTLES GROW IN AN ANGRY BUSH.

Nettles grow in an angry bush, An angry bush, an angry bush; Nettles grow in an angry bush, With my High, Ho, Ham! This is the way the lady goes, The lady goes, the lady goes; This is the way the lady goes, With my High, Ho, Ham!

The children dance round, singing the first three lines, turning round and clapping hands for the fourth line. They curtsey while saying "this is the way the lady goes," and again turn round and clap hands for the last line. The same process is followed in every verse, only varying what they act,—thus, in the third verse, they _bow_ for the gentleman,—

Nettles grow in an angry bush, &c. This is the way the gentleman goes, &c.

Nettles grow in an angry bush, &c. This is the way the tailor goes, &c.

And so the amusement is protracted _ad libitum_, with shoemaking, washing the clothes, ironing, churning, milking, making up butter, &c.

GAME OF THE GIPSY.

One child is selected for Gipsy, one for Mother, and one for Daughter Sue. The Mother says,—

I charge my daughters every one To keep good house while I am gone. You and _you_ (_points_) but specially _you_, [_Or sometimes_, but specially _Sue_.] Or else I'll beat you black and blue.

During the Mother's absence, the Gipsy comes in, entices a child away, and hides her. This process is repeated till all the children are hidden, when the Mother has to find them.

GAME OF THE FOX.

One child is Fox. He has a knotted handkerchief, and a home to which he may go whenever he is tired, but while out of home he must always hop on one leg. The other children are geese, and have no home. When the Fox is coming out he says,—

The Fox gives warning It's a cold frosty morning.

After he has said these words he is at liberty to hop out, and use his knotted handkerchief. Whoever he can touch is Fox instead, but the geese run on two legs, and if the Fox puts his other leg down, he is hunted back to his home.

THE OLD DAME.

One child, called the Old Dame, sits on the floor, and the rest, joining hands, form a circle round her, and dancing, sing the following lines:

_Children._ To Beccles! to Beccles! To buy a bunch of nettles! Pray, Old Dame, what's o'clock?

_Dame._ One, going for two.

_Children._ To Beccles! to Beccles! To buy a bunch of nettles! Pray, Old Dame, what's o'clock?

_Dame._ Two, going for three.

And so on till she reaches, "Eleven going for twelve." After this the following questions are asked, with the replies.—C. Where have you been? D. To the wood. C. What for? D. To pick up sticks. C. What for? D. To light my fire. C. What for? D. To boil my kettle. C. What for? D. To cook some of your chickens. The children then all run away as fast as they can, and the Old Dame tries to catch one of them. Whoever is caught is the next to personate the Dame.

THE POOR WOMAN OF BABYLON.

One child stands in the middle of a ring formed by the other children joining hands round her. They sing—

Here comes a poor woman from Babylon, With three small children all alone: One can brew, and one can bake, The other can make a pretty round cake.

One can sit in the arbour and spin, Another can make a fine bed for the king. Choose the one and leave the rest, And take the one you love the best.

The child in the middle having chosen one in the ring of the opposite sex, the rest say,—

Now you're married, we wish you joy; Father and mother you must obey: Love one another like sister and brother, And now, good people, kiss each other!

They then kiss, and the process is repeated till all the children are in the ring. Another game, played in the same way, begins with this verse:

Sally, Sally Waters, why are you so sad? You shall have a husband either good or bad: Then rise, Sally Waters, and sprinkle your pan, For you're just the young woman to get a nice man.

The partner being chosen, the two kneel down, and the rest sing,—

Now you're married we wish you joy, Father and mother and little boy! Love one another like sister and brother, And now, good people, kiss each other.

QUEEN ANNE.

Queen Anne, Queen Anne, who sits on her throne, As fair as a lily, as white as a swan; The king sends you three letters, And begs you'll read one.

This is said by all the children but one, who represents the Queen, they having previously hid a ball upon one of their number. The Queen answers,

I cannot read one unless I read all, So pray, ——, deliver the ball.

Naming any child she pleases. If she guesses rightly the child who has the ball takes her place as Queen. If wrongly, the child who has the ball says,

The ball is mine, and none of thine, So you, proud Queen, may sit on your throne, While we, your messengers, go and come.

Or, sometimes, these lines,—

The ball is mine, and none of thine, You are the fair lady to sit on: And we're the black gipsies to go and come.

COUNTING-OUT RHYMES.

The operation of counting-out is a very important mystery in many puerile games. The boys or girls stand in a row, and the operator begins with the counting-out rhyme, appropriating a word to each, till he comes to the person who receives the last word, and who is accordingly "out." This operation is continued till there is only one left, who is the individual chosen for the hero of the game, whatever it may be. The following verses are selected from a host of rhymes employed for this purpose:

One-ery, two-ery, Tick-ery, tee-vy; Hollow-bone, crack-a-bone, Pen and eevy. Ink, pink, Pen and ink; A study, a stive, A stove, and a sink!

One-ery, two-ery, Tickery, teven; Alabo, crackabo, Ten and eleven: Spin, spon, Must be gone; Alabo, crackabo, Twenty-_one_! O-U-T spells out.

[Something similar to this is found in Swedish, Arwidsson, iii. 492:

Apala, mesala, Mesinka, meso, Sebedei, sebedo! Extra, lara, Kajsa, Sara! Heck, veck, Vällingsäck, Gack du din långe man veck, Ut!]

Igdum, digdum, didum, dest, Cot-lo, we-lo, wi-lo, west; Cot pan, must be done, Twiddledum, twaddledum, twenty-one!

Hytum, skytum, Perridi styxum, Perriwerri wyxum, A bomun D.

IV.—ALPHABET RHYMES.

Amongst the various devices to establish a royal road to infantine learning, none are more ancient or useful than the rhymes which serve to impress the letters of the alphabet upon the attention and memory of children. As early as the fifteenth century, "Mayster Benet," who was rector of Sandon, in Essex, in 1440, and afterwards a prebend of St. Paul's, composed or translated an alphabet-rhyme, which not only professed to recall the memory of the letters, but at a time when the benefit of clergy was in vogue, held out the inducement of providing means for avoiding the punishment of death. The following copy is taken from two versions in MS. Harl. 541, compared with each other:

"Who so wyll be wyse and worshyp to wynne, leern he on lettur and loke upon another of the A. B. C. of Arystotle. Noon argument agaynst that, ffor it is counselle for clerkes and knightes a thowsand; and also it myght amend a meane man fulle oft the lernyng of a lettur, and his lyf save. It shal not greve a good man, though gylt be amend. Rede on this ragment, and rule the theraftur, and whoso be grevid yn his goost governe the bettur. Herkyn and here every man and child how that I begynne:

A. to Amerous, to Aventurous, ne Angre the not to moche. B. to Bold, to Besy, and Bourde not to large. C. to Curtes, to Cruel, and Care not to sore. D. to Dulle, to Dredefulle, and Drynk not to oft. E. to Ellynge, to Excellent, ne to Ernstfulle neyther. F. to Ferse, ne to Familier, but Frendely of chere. G. to Glad, to Gloryous, and Gelowsy thow hate. H. to Hasty, to Hardy, ne to Hevy yn thyne herte. J. to Jettyng, to Janglyng, and Jape not to oft. K. to Keping, to Kynd, and ware Knaves tatches among. L. to Lothe, to Lovyng, to Lyberalle of goodes. M. to Medlus, to Mery, but as Maner asketh. N. to Noyous, to Nyce, nor yet to Newefangle. O. to Orpyd, to Ovyrthwarte, and Othes thou hate. P. to Preysyng, to Privy, with Prynces ne with dukes. Q. to Queynt, to Querelous, to Quesytife of questions. R. to Ryetous, to Revelyng, ne Rage not to meche. S. to Straunge, ne to Steryng, nor Stare not to brode. T. to Taylous, to Talewyse, for Temperaunce ys best. V. to Venemous, to Vengeable, and Wast not to myche. W. to Wyld, to Wrothfulle, and Wade not to depe, A mesurabulle meane Way is best for us alle."

A. APPLE-PIE.

Eachard, a learned clergyman of the Church of England, published a work in 1671,[36] in which he condescends to illustrate his argument by a reference to this celebrated history. Talking of the various modes of preaching adopted by different sects, he proceeds in this manner: "And whereas it has been observed that some of our clergie are sometimes over nice in taking notice of the meer words that they find in texts, so these are so accurate as to go to the very _letters_. As suppose, sir, you are to give an exhortation to repentance upon that of St. Matthew, 'Repent ye, for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand:' you must observe that _Repent_ is a rich word, wherein every letter exhorts us to our duty,—Repent, R. readily, E. earnestly, P. presently, E. effectually, N. nationally, T. thoroughly. Again, Repent Roaringly, Eagerly, Plentifully, Heavily (because of _h_), Notably, Terribly. And why not, Repent Rarely, Evenly, Prettily, Elegantly, Neatly, Tightly? And also, why not, A apple-pasty, B bak'd it, C cut it, D divided it, E eat it, F fought for it, G got it, &c. I had not time, sir, to look any further into their way of preaching; but if I had, I am sure I should have found that they have no reason to despise our church upon that account." The worthy divine would have censured the sermon on Malt attributed to the elder Dodd.

[Footnote 36: Observations, &c., 8vo. Lond. 1671, p. 160.]

We thus find this nursery romance descending in all its purity for nearly two centuries. It may be even older than the time of Charles II., for it does not appear as a novelty in the quotation we have just given. Be this as it may, the oldest edition I know of was printed some half-century since by Marshall, in Aldermary Churchyard, entitled "The Tragical Death of A. Apple-pye, who was cut in pieces and eat by twenty-five gentlemen, with whom all little people ought to be very well acquainted," which runs as follows:

A. apple-pye, B. bit it, C. cut it, D, dealt it, E. eat it, F. fought for it, G. got it, H. had it,[37] J. join'd for it, K. kept it, L. long'd for it, M. mourn'd for it, N. nodded at it, O. open'd it, P. peep'd in it, Q. quarter'd it, R. ran for it, S. stole it, T. took it, V. viewed it, W. wanted it; X. Y. Z. and Ampersy-and, They all wish'd for a piece in hand.

At last they every one agreed Upon the apple-pye to feed; But as there seem'd to be so many, Those who were last might not have any. Unless some method there was taken, That every one might save their bacon. They all agreed to stand in order Around the apple-pye's fine border. Take turn as they in hornbook stand, From great A down to &, In equal parts the pye divide, As you may see on t'other side.

[Footnote 37: Some copies say "H. halv'd it, I. ey'd it," and afterwards, "U. hew'd it, ... X. crossed it, Y. yearn'd for it, and Z. put it in his pocket, and said, Well done!"]

Then follows a woodcut of the pie, surrounded by a square of the letters, though it is not very easy to perceive how the conditions of the problem are to be fulfilled. The remainder of the book, a small 32mo., is occupied with "A Curious Discourse that passed between the twenty-five letters at dinner-time,"—

Says A, give me a good large slice. Says B, a little bit, but nice. Says C, cut me a piece of crust. Take it, says D, it's dry as dust. Says E, I'll eat now fast, who will. Says F, I vow I'll have my fill. Says G, give it me good and great. Says H, a little bit I hate. Says I, I love the juice the best, And K the very same confest. Says L, there's nothing more I love, Says M, it makes your teeth to move. N noticed what the others said; O others' plates with grief survey'd. P praised the cook up to the life. Q quarrel'd 'cause he'd a bad knife. Says R, it runs short, I'm afraid. S silent sat, and nothing said. T thought that talking might lose time; U understood it at meals a crime. W wish'd there had been a quince in; Says X, those cooks there's no convincing. Says Y, I'll eat, let others wish. Z sat as mute as any fish, While Ampersy-and he licked the dish.

The manner in which a practical moral good was to be inferred from this doggerel is not very apparent, but Mr. Marshall had a way of his own in settling the difficulty. The finale must not be omitted: "Having concluded their discourse and dinner together, I have nothing more to add, but that, if my little readers are pleased with what they have found in this book, they have nothing to do but to run to Mr. Marshall's at No. 4, in Aldermary Churchyard, where they may have several books, not less entertaining than this, of the same size and price. But that you may not think I leave you too abruptly, I here present you with the picture of the old woman who made the apple-pye you have been reading about. She has several more in her basket, and she promises, if you are good children, you shall never go supperless to bed while she has one left. But as good people always ask a blessing of God before meals, therefore, as a token that you are good, and deserve a pye, you must learn the two following graces, the one to be said before the meals, the other after; and the Lord's Prayer every night and morning." Two graces and the Lord's Prayer conclude the tract.

The following alphabet or literal rhyme refers to Carr, Earl of Somerset, the favorite of James I:

J. C. U. R. Good Mounseir Car About to fall; U. R. A. K. As most men say, Yet that's not all. U. O. K. P. With a nullytye, That shamelesse packe! S. X. his yf (_wife_), Whos shamelesse lyfe Hath broke your backe. _MS. Sloane 1489_, f. 9, vo.

A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J. K., if you look you'll see; L. M. N. O. P. Q. R. S. T. U. V. W. X. Y. Z. Heigh ho! my heart is low, My mind is all on one; It's W for I know who, And T for my love, Tom!

V.—RIDDLE-RHYMES.

A very favorite class of rhymes with children, though the solutions are often most difficult to guess. Nursery riddle-rhymes are extremely numerous, and a volume might be filled with them without much difficulty. Many of the most common ones are found in manuscript collections of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

I'm in every one's way, But no one I stop; My four horns every day In every way play, And my head is nailed on at the top!

—A turnstile.

There was a king met a king In a straight lane; Says the king to the king, Where have you been? I've been in the wood, Hunting the doe: Pray lend me your dog, That I may do so. Call him, call him! What must I call him? Call him as you and I, We've done both.

—The dog's name was _Been_, and the name of the persons who met each other was King. This riddle was obtained recently from oral tradition. I observe, however, a version of it in MS. Harl. 1962, of the seventeenth century.

The cuckoo and the gowk, The laverock and the lark, The twire-snipe, the weather-bleak; How many birds is that?

—Three, for the second name in each line is a synonyme. The cuckoo is called a _gowk_ in the North of England; the lark, a _laverock_; and the twire-snipe and weather-bleak, or weather-bleater, are the same birds.

Hoddy-doddy, With a round black body! Three feet and a wooden hat; What's that?

—An iron pot. In the country, an iron pot with three legs, and a wooden cover, the latter raised or put on by means of a peg at the top, is used for suspending over a fire, or to place on the hearth with a wood fire.

Riddle me, riddle me, what is that Over the head and under the hat?

—Hair. From Kent.

The fiddler and his wife, The piper and his mother, Ate three half-cakes, three whole cakes, And three quarters of another. How much did each get?

—The fiddler's wife was the piper's mother. Each one therefore got 1/2 + 1 + 1/4 or 1-3/4.