RIDDLES AND GAMES
Much to Patty's satisfaction Mabel Hartley was in the habit of dining
with her elders and was not condemned to "schoolroom tea."
The family was not large, consisting only of Mrs. Hartley, her mother,
Mrs. Cromarty, her two sons, and Mabel. The sons, Sinclair and Robert,
were big, stalwart fellows, a few years older than Mabel.
Patty liked them at once, for they were cordial and hearty in their
greetings, and quite at ease in their conversation.
"I say, Mater," began Bob, after they were seated at dinner, "there's a
stunning garden-party on at Regent's Park next week. Don't you think we
can all go? Tickets only two shillings each."
"What is it, my son? A charity affair?"
"Yes. Rest cure for semi-orphans, or something. But they've all sorts of
jolly shows, and the Stagefright Club is going to give a little original
play. Oh, say we go!"
"I'll see about it," answered Mrs. Hartley. "Perhaps, if we make up a
party, Miss Fairfield will go with us."
"I'd love to," said Patty. "I've never seen a real English garden party."
"Oh, this isn't a real English garden party in the true sense," said
Sinclair. "To see that, you must be in the country. But this is a public
London garden party and typical of its sort. You'll like it, I'm sure.
Will you go with us, Grandy?"
At first it seemed incongruous to Patty to hear the dignified Mrs.
Cromarty addressed by such a nickname, but as she came to know her
better, the name seemed really appropriate. The lady was of the class
known as _grande dame_, and her white hair and delicate, sharply-cut
features betokened a high type of English aristocracy. Her voice was very
sweet and gentle, and she smiled at her big grandson, as she replied:
"No, my boy; I lost my taste for garden parties some years ago. But it's
a fine setting for you young people, and I hope Emmeline will take you
all."
"Mother said she'd see about it," said Mabel, "and that's always the same
as 'yes.' If it's going to be 'no,' she says, 'I'll think it over.'"
"It's a great thing to understand your mother-tongue so well," said
Patty, laughing; "now I shouldn't have known those distinctions."
"We have a wonderful talent for languages," said Sinclair, gravely.
"Indeed, we have a language of our own. Shall I teach it to you?"
"You might try," said Patty, "but I'm not at all clever as a linguist."
"You may not learn it easily, but it can be taught in one sentence. It
consists in merely using the initial of the word instead of the word
itself."
"But so many words begin with the same initial," said Patty, bewildered
at the idea.
"Yes, but it's ever so much easier than you'd think. Now listen. Wouldn't
you understand me if I said: 'D y w t g t t g p?'"
"Say it again, please, and say it slowly."
Sinclair repeated the letters, and Patty clapped her hands, crying: "Yes,
yes, of course I understand. You mean 'Do you want to go to the garden
party?' Now, listen to me while I answer: Y I w t g i i d r."
"Good!" exclaimed Mabel. "You said: 'Yes, I want to go, if it doesn't
rain.' Oh, you are a quick pupil."
"But those are such easy sentences," said Patty, as she considered the
matter.
"That's the point," said Bob, "most sentences, at least, the ones we use
most, _are_ easy. If I should meet you unexpectedly, and say H d y d?
you'd know I meant How do you do? Or if I took leave, and said G b, you'd
understand good-bye. Those are the simplest possible examples. Now, on
the other hand, if I were to read you a long speech from the morning
paper, you'd probably miss many of the long words, but that's the other
extreme. We've talked in initials for years, and rarely are we uncertain
as to the sense, though we may sometimes skip a word here and there."
"But what good is it?" asked Patty.
"No good at all," admitted Bob; "but it's fun. And after you're used to
it, you can talk that way so fast that any one listening couldn't guess
what you are saying. Sometimes when we're riding on an omnibus, or
anything like that, it's fun to talk initials and mystify the people."
"D y o d t?" said Patty, her eyes twinkling.
"Yes, we often do that," returned Bob, greatly gratified at the rapid
progress of the new pupil. "You must be fond of puzzles, to catch this up
so quickly."
"I am," said Patty. "I've guessed puzzles ever since I was a little girl.
I always solve all I can find in the papers, and sometimes I take prizes
for them."
"We do that too," said Mabel; "and sometimes we make puzzles and send
them to the papers and they print them. Let's make some for each other
this evening."
After dinner the young people gathered round the table in the pleasant
library, and were soon busy with paper and pencils. Patty found the
Hartleys a match for her in quickness and ingenuity, but she was able to
guess as great a proportion of their puzzles as they of hers.
After amusing themselves with square words and double acrostics, they
drifted to conundrums, and Bob asked:
"Which letter of the Dutch alphabet spells an English lady of rank?"
"That's not fair," objected Patty, "because I don't know the Dutch
alphabet."
"That doesn't matter," said Mabel, "you can guess it just as well
without."
"Indeed I can't, and besides I don't know the names of all the English
ladies of rank."
"That doesn't matter either," said Sinclair, smiling; "it spells a title,
not a name; and one you know very well."
"I can't guess it, anyway," said Patty, after a few moment's thought. "I
give it up; tell me."
"Why, Dutch S," said Bob, and Patty agreed that it was a good catch.
"Now, I'll catch you," said Patty. "You all know your London pretty well,
I suppose, and are familiar with the places of interest. Well, Mabel, why
is your nose like St. Paul's?"
Mabel thought hard, and so did the boys.
"Is my nose like St. Paul's, too?" asked Bob, thoughtfully, stroking his
well-shaped feature.
Patty looked at it critically. "Yes," she said, "and so is Sinclair's.
But why?"
At last they gave it up, and Patty said, triumphantly, "Because it is
made of flesh and blood."
They all screamed with laughter, for they quickly saw the point, and
realised that it was the historic character referred to, and not the
cathedral.
"Here's one," said Sinclair: "Where did the Prince of Wales go on his
eleventh birthday?" But Patty was quite quick enough for this. "Into his
twelfth year," she answered promptly. "And now listen to this: A man
walking out at night, met a beggar asking alms. The man gave him ten
cents. He met another beggar and gave him fifteen cents. What time was
it?"
"Time for him to go home," declared Bob, but Patty said that was not the
right answer.
"Springtime," guessed Mabel, "because the man was in such a good humor."
"No," said Patty, "it was quarter to two."
Her hearers looked utterly blank at this, and, suddenly realising that
they were not very familiar with American coins, Patty explained the
joke. They saw it, of course, but seemed to think it not very good, and
Sinclair whimsically insisted on calling it, "a shilling to Bob," which
he said was equally nonsensical.
"Give us one of your poetry ones, Grandy," said Bob to Mrs. Cromarty, who
sat by, quietly enjoying the young people's fun.
"Miss Fairfield may not care for the old-fashioned enigma, but I will
offer this one," and in her fine, clear voice the old lady recited her
verse with elocutionary effect:
"Afloat upon the ocean
My graceful form you see;
The protector of the people,
The protector of a tree.
I often save a patient,
Though a doctor I am not;
My name is very easy,
Can you tell me, children? What?"
The others had heard this before, and when Patty promptly guessed "Bark,"
Mrs. Cromarty was distinctly pleased with her quick-wittedness.
Then lemonade and wafery little cakes were brought in, that the puzzlers
might refresh themselves.
The atmosphere of the Hartley household was very pleasant, and Patty felt
much more at home than she had ever expected to feel among English
people. She made allusion to this, and Bob said: "Oh, this place isn't
homey at all, compared with our real home. You must come to see us down
in the country, mustn't she, mother?"
"I should be very glad to welcome you there, my dear," said Mrs. Hartley,
smiling at Patty, "and I trust it may be arranged. We have this apartment
for only a few weeks longer, and then we shall go back to Leicester."
"I'm in no haste to go," declared Mabel. "I love Cromarty Manor, but I
want to stay in London a little longer. But when we do go, Patty, you
surely must visit us there."
"Indeed I will, if I can manage it. My parents want me to go with them to
Switzerland, but I'd much prefer to spend the summer in England. I have
ever so many delightful invitations to country houses, and they seem to
me a lot more attractive than travelling about. I suppose I ought to care
more about seeing places, but I don't."
"You're quite young enough yet," said Mrs. Hartley, "to look forward to
travelling in future years. I think some experiences of English life
would be quite as advantageous for you."
"I'll tell father you said that," said Patty. "Then perhaps he'll let me
have my own way. But he usually does that, anyway."
"You'd love Cromarty Manor," said Bob, enthusiastically. "It's so
beautiful in spring and early summer."
"But not half as grand as other houses where Patty's invited," said
Mabel, and again the shadow crossed her face that seemed always to come
when she spoke of her country home.
"Grandeur doesn't count in the country," declared Bob. "That belongs to
London life. Other places may be larger or in better condition than ours,
but they _can't_ be more beautiful."
"That is true," said Mrs. Cromarty, in her quiet way, which always seemed
to decide a disputed point. And then it was time to go home, and Mrs.
Hartley sent Patty away in her carriage, with a maid to accompany her.
The woman was middle-aged, with a pleasant voice and a capable manner.
She chatted affably with Patty, and dilated a little on the glories of
the Cromarty family.
Patty realised at once that she was an old family servant, and had earned
a right to a little more freedom of speech than is usual to English
domestics.
"Oh, yes, Miss," she said; "it's a wonnerful old place, that it is. And
if the dear lady only 'ad the money as is 'ers by right, she'd keep it up
lordly, that she would."
Patty wondered what had become of the money in question, but Sarah said
no more concerning it, and Patty felt she had no right to ask. "You live
with them, then, in the country?" she said.
"Yes, Miss, I've allus lived with them. My mother was housekeeper at the
Manor when Miss Emmeline married Mr. 'Artley. Oh, he was the fine
gentleman. Dead now, this ten year come Whitsuntide. Master Bob, he's the
image of his father. Are you warm enough, Miss?"
Sarah's quick transit from reminiscences to solicitude for her comfort
almost startled Patty, but she was getting used to that peculiarity of
the British mind.
"Yes, thank you," she said, "and anyway, we're home now. Here's the
Savoy."
Mr. Fairfield and Nan had not yet arrived, so the good Sarah attended
Patty to her own apartment and gave her over to Louise, who awaited her
coming.
Louise helped her off with her pretty frock, and brought her a beribboned
negligee, and Patty curled up in a big armchair in front of the fire to
think over the evening.
"These wood-fires are lovely," she said to herself, "and they do have
most comfortable stuffed chairs over here, if they only knew enough to
put rockers under them."
Patty was a comfort-loving creature, and often bewailed the absence of
the rocking-chairs so dear to her American heart. Soon her parents came
in and found her sound asleep in the big chair.
She woke up, as her father kissed her lightly on the forehead.
"Hello, Prince Charming," she said, smiling gaily at the handsome man in
evening clothes who stood looking down at her.
"I suppose you want a return compliment about the Sleeping Beauty," he
said, "but you won't get it. Too much flattery isn't good for a baby like
you, and I shall reserve my pretty speeches for my wife."
"Oh, I'll share them with Patty," laughed Nan, "but with no one else."
"Tell us about your evening, girlie," said her father. "Did you have a
good time?"
"Fine," said Patty. "The Hartleys are lovely people; I like them better
than any I've met in London, so far. And they do puzzles, and ask
riddles, and they're just as clever and quick as Americans. I've heard
that English people were heavy and stupid, and they're not, a bit."
"You mustn't believe all you hear. Are they a large family?" "Not very.
Two sons, one daughter, and the mother and grandmother. Mabel's father
has been dead for years. And they want me to visit them at their home in
Leicester this summer. Can't I go?"
"Desert your own family for foreigners!"
"Yes; I do want to go there and to some other country places while you
and Nan go touristing about. Mayn't I?"
"We won't decide now. It's too near midnight for important matters to be
discussed. Skip to bed, chickabiddy, and dream of the Stars and Stripes,
lest you forget them entirely."
"Never!" cried Patty, striking a dramatic attitude.
"Though English people may be grand,
My heart is in my native land!"
And humming the Star-spangled Banner, she went away to her own room.