"He who gives and takes again,
Long in hell may he remain!
He who gives and takes once more,
May we hear him beat on the Devil's door!"
The Spanish form of tag has a touch of mythological grace. One child,
chosen by lot, is the Moon, and must keep within the shadow. The
others, Morning-stars, are safe only in the lighted spaces. The game
is for the Morning-stars to run into the shadow, daring the Moon,
who, if successful in catching one, becomes a Morning-star in turn,
and passes out into the light, leaving the one caught to act the part
of Moon. As the Morning-stars run in and out of the Moon's domain,
they sing over and over the following stanza:--
"O the Moon and the Morning-stars!
O the Moon and the Morning-stars!
Who dares to tread--O
Within the shadow?"
Even in swinging, the little girls who push carry on a musical
dialogue with the happy holder of the seat.
"'Say good-day, say good-day
To Miss Fannie Fly-away!
At the door the guests are met,
But the table is not set.
Put the stew upon the fire.
Higher, higher, higher, higher!
Now come down, down, down, down,
Or the dinner will all burn brown.
Soup and bread! soup and bread!
I know a plot of roses red,
Red as any hero's sword,
Or the blood of our Holy Lord.
Where art thou, on the wing?'
'No, I'm sitting in the swing.'
'Who're thy playmates way up there?'
'Swallows skimming through the air.'
'Down, come down! The stew will burn.
Let the rest of us have a turn.'"
In playing "Hide and Seek," the seeker must first sit in a drooping
attitude with covered eyes, while the others stand about and threaten
to strike him if he peeps:--
"Oil-cruet! Don't do it! _Ras con ras!_
Pepper-pot? Peep not! _Ras con ras!_"
The menacing little fists are then suddenly withdrawn.
"No, no! Not a blow!
But a pinch on the arm will do no harm.
Now let the birdies take alarm!"
And off scamper the hiders to their chosen nooks. When they are safely
tucked away, the indispensable Mother, standing by, sings to the
seeker that stanza which is his signal for the start:--
"My little birds of the mountain
Forth from the cage are flown.
My little birds of the mountain
Have left me all alone."
Spanish forfeit games are numerous and ingenious. In one of these,
called "The Toilet," the players take the names of Mirror, Brush,
Comb, Towel, Soap, and other essentials, including Jesus, Devil, and
Man Alive, these last for exclamatory purposes. As each is mentioned
by the leader of the game, he must rise instantly, on pain of forfeit,
no matter how fast the speaker may be rattling on: "_Jesus!_ When will
that _devil_ of a _maid_ bring me my _powder_ and _perfumes_?"
Characteristic titles of other forfeit games are, "The Key of Rome,"
"The Fan," "The Fountain," "I Saw my Love Last Night." The sentences
vary from such gentle penalties as "The Caress of Cadiz" to the
predicament of putting three feet on the wall at once.
The choral verses are often mere nonsense.
"Pipe away! pipe away!
Let us play a little play!
What will we play?
We'll cut our hands away.
Who cut them, who?
Rain from out the blue.
Where is the rain?
Hens drank it up again.
Hens? And where are they?
Gone their eggs to lay.
Who will eat them up?
Friars when they sup.
What do friars do?
Sing 'gori-gori-goo.'"
Watching Spanish children, one may see two little girls, say White
Rose and Sweetness, fly out into an open space, where White Rose
carefully places the tips of her small shoes in touch with those of
Sweetness. Then they clasp hands, fling their little bodies as far
back as these conditions permit, and whirl round and round, singing
lustily--until they are overcome by giddiness--the following
rigmarole, or one of its variants:--
"Titirinela, if you please!
Titirinela, bread and cheese:
'What is your father's worshipful name?'
'Sir Red-pepper, who kisses your hands.'
'And how does he call his beautiful dame?'
'Lady Cinnamon, at your commands.'
Titirinela, toe to toe!
Titirinela, round we go!"
[Illustration: FROM THE TOWER OF GOLD DOWN THE GUADALQUIVIR]
Even in some of their prettiest games the verses have a childish
incoherence. Some dozen little girls form a circle, for instance, with
the Butterfly in the centre. They lift her dress-skirt by the border,
and hold it outspread about her. Another child, on the outside, runs
around and around the ring, singing:--
"Who are these chatterers?
Oh, such a number!
Not by day nor by night
Do they let me slumber.
They're daughters of the Moorish king,
Who search the garden-close
For lovely Lady Ana,
The sweetest thing that grows.
She's opening the jasmine
And shutting up the rose."
Then the children suddenly lift their hands, which are holding
Butterfly's frock, so as to envelop her head in the folds. The little
singer outside continues:--
"Butterfly, butterfly,
Dressed in rose-petals!
Is it on candle-flame
Butterfly settles?
How many shirts
Have you woven of rain?
Weave me another
Ere I call you again."