"THE WHAT-DO-YOU-THINK?"

The exhibitor begins, in proper showman style: "Ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure of exhibiting to your notice the celebrated 'What-do-you-think?' or Giant Uncle-Eater. You have all probably heard of the Ant-Eater. This is, as you will readily perceive, a member of the same family, but more so! He measures seven feet from the tip of his snout to the end of his tail, eight feet back again, five feet around the small of his waist, and has four feet of his own, making twenty-four in all. In his natural state he lives chiefly on blue-bottle flies and mixed pickles, but in captivity it is found that so rich a diet has a tendency to make him stout, and he is now fed exclusively on old corks and back numbers of some daily paper. His voice, which you may perhaps have an opportunity of hearing (here the 'What-do-you-think?' howls dismally), is in the key of B fiat, and is greatly admired. People come here before breakfast to hear it, and when they have heard it, they a.s.sure us that they never heard anything like it before. Some have even gone so far as to say that they never wish to hear anything like it again,"' etc. The "What-do-you-think?"

is manufactured as follows: The performer, who should have black kid gloves on, places on his head a conical paper cap, worked up with the aid of the nursery paint box into a rough semblance of an animal's head. This being securely fastened on, he goes down on his hands and knees and a s.h.a.ggy railway rug (of fur, if procurable) is thrown over him and secured round his neck, when the animal is complete.

THE KNIGHT OF THE WHISTLE

This is a capital game for everybody but the victim, and produces much fun. Some one who does not know the game is chosen to be Knight of the Whistle, and is commanded to kneel down and receive the honor of knighthood, which the leader (armed with a light cane, the drawing- room poker, or other subst.i.tute for a sword) confers by a slight stroke on the back. While placing him in position, opportunity is taken to attach to his back, by means of a bent pin or otherwise, a piece of string about a foot in length, to which is appended a small light whistle. Having been duly dubbed, in order to complete his dignity, he is informed that he must now go in quest of the whistle, which will be sounded at intervals, in order to guide him in his search. Meanwhile the other players gather in a circle round him, making believe to pa.s.s an imaginary object from hand to hand. The victim naturally believes that this imaginary object must be the long-lost whistle, and makes a dash for it accordingly, when the player who happens to be behind his back blows the actual whistle and instantly drops it again. Round flies the unhappy knight, and makes a fresh dash to seize the whistle, but in vain. No sooner has he turned to a fresh quarter than the ubiquitous whistle again sounds behind his back.

If the game is played smartly, and care taken not to pull the cord, the knight may often be kept revolving for a considerable period before he discovers the secret.

"HE CAN DO LITTLE."

This is another "sell" of almost childish simplicity, but we have seen people desperately puzzled over it, and even "give it up" in despair.

The leader takes a stick (or poker) in his left hand, thence transfers it to his right, and thumps three times on the floor, saying: "He can do little who can't do this." He then hands the stick to another person, who, as he supposes, goes through exactly the same performance; but if he does not know the game, is generally told, to his disgust, that he has incurred a forfeit, his imitation not having been exact.

The secret lies in the fact that the stick, when pa.s.sed on, is first received in the left hand and thence transferred to the right before going through the performance.

"THROWING LIGHT."

Two of the company agree privately upon a word (which should be one susceptible of two or three meanings), and interchange remarks tending to throw light upon it. The rest of the players do their best to guess the word, but when any of them fancies he has succeeded, he does not publicly announce his guess, but makes such a remark as to indicate to the two initiated that he has discovered their secret. If they have any doubt that he has really guessed the word, they challenge him, i.e., require him to name it in a whisper. If this guess proves to be right, he joins in conversation, and a.s.sists in throwing light on the subject; but if, on the other hand, he is wrong, he must submit to have a handkerchief thrown over his head, and so remain until by some more fortunate observation he shall prove that he really possesses the secret.

We will give an example. Mr. A. and Miss B. have agreed on "bed" as the word, and proceed to throw light upon it, alternating upon its various meanings of a place of repose, a part of a garden, or the bed of a river.

Miss B. I don't know what your opinion may be, but I am never tired of it.

Mr. A. Well, for my part, I am never in a hurry, either to get to it or to leave it.

Miss B. How delightful it is after a long, tiring day!

Mr. A. Yes. But it is a pleasure that soon palls. The most luxurious person does not care for too much of it at a stretch.

Miss B. Oh, don't you think so. In early spring, for instance, with the dew upon the flowers!

Mr. A. Ah! you take the romantic view. But how would you like it beneath some rapid torrent or some broad majestic river?

Miss C. (thinks she sees her way, and hazards a remark). Or in a sauce?

Mr. A. I beg your pardon. Please tell me in a whisper what you suppose the word to be?

Miss C. (whispers) Fish! What! isn't that right?

Mr. A. I am afraid you must submit to a temporary eclipse. (Throws her handkerchief over her face.)

Mr. A. to Miss B. You mentioned spring, I think. For my own part, I prefer feathers.

Mr. D. (rashly concludes, from the combination of "spring" and "feathers," that spring chickens must be referred to). Surely you would have them plucked?

Mr. A. (looks puzzled). I think not May I ask you to name your guess?

Oh, no, quite out. I must trouble you for your pocket handkerchief.

Miss B. It is curious, isn't it, that they must be made afresh every day?

Mr. A. So it is; though I confess it never struck me in that light before. I don't fancy, however, that old Brown, the gardener, makes his quite so often.

Miss B. You may depend that he has it made for him, though.

Miss C. (from under the handkerchief). At any rate, according as he makes it, his fate will be affected accordingly. You know the proverb?

Mr. A. (removing the handkerchief). You have fairly earned your release.

By the way, do you remember an old paradox upon this subject, "What n.o.body cares to give away, yet n.o.body wishes to keep?"

Miss E. Ah! now you have let out the secret. I certainly don't wish to keep mine for long together, but I would willingly give it away if I could get a better.

Miss B. Tell me your guess. (Miss E. whispers.) Yes, you have hit it.

I was afraid Mr. A.'s last "light" was rather too strong.

And so the game goes on, until every player is in the secret, or the few who may be still in the dark "give it up" and plead for mercy.

This, however, is a rare occurrence, for, as the company in general become acquainted with the secret, the "lights" are flashed about in a rash and reckless manner, till the task of guessing becomes almost a matter of course to an ordinarily acute person.

CHAPTER VII

CHURCH AND SCHOOL SOCIALS

CHARADES: "CICERO"--"ATTENUATE"--SUGGESTED WORDS--"METAPHYSICIAN"-- CHARADES ON THE GRECIAN ISLANDS

ACTING CHARADES

In some form or other the game of charades is played in almost every country under the sun. In acting charades the characters and situation are made to represent a play upon a word or words by portraying some feature which vividly brings such word or words to the mind.

Here is a popular one: Send one-half the company out of the room, into another which may be separated by double doors; portieres are best for the purpose. The party in the inner room think of some word which can be represented entire, in pantomime or tableau, and proceed to enact it. After they have made up, the door opens, and discloses half a dozen girls standing in a line, while one of the acting party announces that this striking tableau represents the name of a famous orator. The others failing to guess are told that Cicero (Sissy-row) is the orator represented.

Again, just as the clock strikes ten, the doors opening reveal a lady eating an apple or any convenient edible, while a gentleman who stands near points to the clock and then at her. This being correctly guessed to represent "attenuate" (at ten you ate), the other side goes from the room and the previous performers become the audience.

There are a host of words which with a little ingenuity may be turned to account. For example:

Ingratiate. (In gray she ate.) Catering. (Kate. Her ring.) Hero. (He row.) Tennessee. (Ten, I see.) The following are also good charade words: Knighthood, penitent, looking-gla.s.s, hornpipe, necklace, indolent, lighthouse, Hamlet, pantry, phantom, windfall, sweepstake, sackcloth, antidote, antimony, pearl powder, kingfisher, football, housekeeping, infancy, s...o...b..ll, definite, bowstring, carpet, Sunday, Shylock, earwig, matrimony, cowhiding, welcome, friendship, horsemanship, coltsfoot, bridegroom, housemaid, curl-papers, crumpet.

We will take the word "windfall," as affording a ready ill.u.s.tration of the pantomime charade. "Wind" may be represented by a German band, puffing away at imaginary ophicleides and trombones, with distended cheeks and frantic energy, though in perfect silence. "Fall" may be portrayed by an elderly gentleman with umbrella up, who walks unsuspectingly on an ice slide and falls. The complete word "windfall"

may be represented by a young man sitting alone, leaning his elbows on his hands, and having every appearance of being in the last stage of impecuniosity. To produce this effect, he may go through a pantomime of examining his purse and showing it empty, searching his pockets and turning them one by one inside out, shaking his head mournfully and sitting down again, throwing into his expression as much despair as he conveniently can. A letter carrier's whistle is heard; a servant enters with a legal-looking letter. The impecunious hero, tearing it open, produces from it a roll of stage banknotes, and forthwith gives way to demonstrations of the most extravagant delight, upon which the curtain falls.

In another the curtain rises (i.e., the folding-doors are thrown open), and a placard is seen denoting, "This is Madison Square," or any other place where professional men congregate. Two gentlemen in out-door costumes cross the stage from opposite sides and bow gravely on pa.s.sing each other, one of them saying, as they do so, "Good morning, doctor."

The curtain falls, and the audience are informed that the charade, which represents a word of six syllables, is complete in that scene.

When the spectators have guessed or been told that the word is "met-a-physician," the curtain again rises on precisely the same scene, and the same performance, action for action, and word for word, is repeated over again. The audience hazard the same word "metaphysician"

as the answer, but are informed that they are wrong--the word now represented having only three syllables, and they ultimately discover that the word is "metaphor" (met afore).