Come, thou complaisant cards, and cheat me
Of a bad night, and miserable dreams.
SHAKSPEARE.
'Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat,
To peep at such a world,--to see the stir
Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.
COWPER.
There is no amusement for a town or country-house, where people like
to stay at home, so perfectly innocent and amusing as games which
require a little brain.
It is a delightful feature of our modern civilization that books are
cheap, and that the poets are read by every one. That would be a
barren house where we did not find Scott, Byron, Goldsmith,
Longfellow, Tennyson, Browning, Bret Harte, and Jean Ingelow.
Therefore, there would be little embarrassment should we ask the
members of the circle around the evening lamp to write a parody on
"Evangeline," "Lady Clara Vere de Vere," "Hervé Riel," or "The Heathen
Chinee." The result is amusing.
Amongst games requiring memory and attention, we may mention Cross
Purposes, The Horned Ambassador, I Love my Love with an A, the Game of
the Ring, which is arithmetical, The Deaf Man, The Goose's History,
Story Play, which consists in putting a word into a narrative so
cleverly that it will not readily be guessed, although several may
tell different stories with the word repeated. The best way to play
this is to have some word which is not the word, like "ambassador," if
the word be "banana" for instance, so by thus repeating "ambassador"
the listener maybe baffled. The Dutch Conceit, My Lady's Toilette,
Scheherazade's Ransom are also very good. This last deserves a
description. Three of the company sustain the parts of the Sultan, the
Vizier, and the Princess. The Sultan takes his seat at the end of the
room, and the Vizier then leads the Princess before him with her hands
bound behind her. The Vizier then makes an absurd proclamation that
the Princess, having exhausted all her stories is about to be
punished, unless a sufficient ransom be offered. All the rest of the
company then advance in turn, and propose enigmas which must be solved
by the Sultan or Vizier; sing the first verse of a song, to which the
Vizier must answer with the second verse; or recite any well-known
piece of poetry in alternate lines with the Vizier. Forfeits must be
paid, either by the company when successfully encountered by the
Sultan and Vizier, or by the Vizier when unable to respond to his
opponents; and the game goes on till the forfeits amount to any
specified number on either side. Should the company be victorious and
obtain the greater number of forfeits, the Princess is released and
the Vizier has to execute all the penalties that may be imposed upon
him. If otherwise, the Princess is led to execution. For this purpose
she is seated on a low stool. The penalties for the forfeits, which
should be previously prepared, are written on slips of paper and put
in a basket, which she holds in her hands, tied behind her. The owners
of the forfeits advance, and draw each a slip of paper. As each
person comes forward the Princess guesses who it is, and if right, the
person must pay an additional forfeit, the penalty for which is to be
exacted by the Princess herself. When all the penalties have been
distributed, the hands and eyes of the Princess are released, and she
then superintends the execution of the various punishments that have
been allotted to the company.
Another very good game is to send one of the company out, and as he
comes in again to address him in the supposed character of General
Scott, the Duke of Wellington, or of some Shakspearean hero. This,
amongst bright people, can be very amusing. The hero thus addressed
must find out who he is himself,--a difficult task for any one to
discover, even with leading questions.
The Echo is another nice little game. It is played by reciting some
story, which Echo is supposed to interrupt whenever the narrator
pronounces certain words which recur frequently in his narrative.
These words relate to the profession or trade of him who is the
subject of the story. If, for example, the story is about a soldier
the words which would recur most frequently would naturally be
uniform, gaiters, _chapeau bras_, musket, plume, pouch, sword, sabre,
gun, knapsack, belt, sash, cap, powder-flask, accoutrements, and so
on. Each one of the company, with the exception of the person who
tells the story, takes the name of soldier, powder-flask, etc., except
the name accoutrements. When the speaker pronounces one of these
words, he who has taken it for his name, ought, if the word has been
said only once, to pronounce it twice; if it has been said twice, to
pronounce it once. When the word "accoutrements" is uttered the
players, all except the soldier, ought to repeat the word
"accoutrements" either once or twice.
These games are amusing, as showing how defective a thing is memory,
how apt it is to desert us under fire. It is very interesting to mark
the difference of character exhibited by the players.
Another very funny game is Confession by a Die, played with cards and
dice. It would look at first like a parody on Mother Church, but it
does not so offend. A person takes some blank cards, and counting the
company, writes down a sin for each. The unlucky sinner when called
upon must not only confess, but, by throwing the dice, also confess as
many sins as they indicate, and do penance for them all. These can,
with a witty leader, be made very amusing.
The Secretary is another good game. The players sit at a table with
square pieces of paper and pencils, and each one writes his own name,
handing the paper, carefully folded down, to the secretary, who
distributes them, saying, "Character." Then each one writes out an
imaginary character, hands it to the secretary, who says, "Future."
The papers are again distributed, and the writers forecast the future.
Of course the secretary throws in all sorts of other questions, and
when the game is through, the papers are read. They form a curious and
heterogeneous piece of reading; sometimes such curious bits of
character-reading crop out that one suspects complicity. But if
honestly played it is amusing.
The Traveller's Tour is interesting. One of the party announces
himself as the traveller. He is given an empty bag, and counters, with
numbers on, are distributed amongst the players. Thus if twelve
persons are playing the numbers must count up to twelve,--a set of
ones to be given to one, twos to two, and so on. Then the traveller
asks for information about the places to which he is going. The first
person gives it if he can; if not, the second, and so on. If the
traveller considers it correct information or worthy of notice he
takes from the person one of his counters as a pledge of the
obligation he is under to him. The next person in order takes up the
next question, and so on. After the traveller reaches his destination
he empties his bag and sees to whom he has been indebted for the
greatest amount of information. He then makes him the next traveller.
Of course this opens the door for all sorts of witty rejoinders,
according as the players choose to exaggerate the claims of certain
hotels, and to invent hits at certain watering-places.