_M._ Can't I wrap them up in a sheet?

_W._ The sheet is too white.

_M._ Can't I ride up in a carriage?

_W._ You would break the stairs down.

The children then burst out from behind the Witch and they and the Mother run after her, crying out, "Burn the Old Witch." They continue chasing the Witch till she is caught, and the child who succeeds in catching her, takes the part of the Witch in the next game.-Dartmouth (Miss Kimber).

The children choose from their party an Old Witch (who is supposed to hide herself) and a Mother. The other players are the daughters, and are called by the names of the week. The Mother says that she is going to market, and will bring home for each the thing that she most wishes for.

Upon this they all name something. Then, after telling them upon no account to allow any one to come into the house, she gives her children in charge of her eldest daughter, Sunday, and goes away. In a moment, the Witch makes her appearance, and asks to borrow some trifle.

Sunday at first refuses, but, after a short parley, goes into the next room to fetch the required article. In her absence the Witch steals the youngest of the children (Sat.u.r.day), and runs off with her. Sunday, on her return, seeing that the Witch has left, thinks there must be something wrong, and counts the children, saying, "Monday, Tuesday,"

&c., until she comes to Sat.u.r.day, who is missing. She then pretends to cry, wrings her hands, and sobs out-"Mother will beat me when she comes home."

On the Mother's return, she, too, counts the children, and finding Sat.u.r.day gone, asks Sunday where she is. Sunday answers, "Oh, mother! an Old Witch called, and asked to borrow --, and, whilst I was fetching it, she ran off with Sat.u.r.day." The Mother scolds and beats her, tells her to be more careful in the future, and again sets off for the market.

This is repeated until all the children but Sunday have been stolen.

Then the Mother and Sunday, hand in hand, go off to search for them.

They meet the Old Witch, who has them all crouching down in a line behind her.

_Mother._ Have you seen my children?

_Old Witch._ Yes! I think by Eastgate.

The Mother and Sunday retire, as if to go there, but, not finding them, again return to the Witch, who this time sends them to Westgate, then to Southgate and Northgate. At last one of the children pops her head up over the Witch's shoulder, and cries out, "Here we are, Mother." Then follows this dialogue:-

_M._ I see my children, may I go in?

_O. W._ No! your boots are too dirty.

_M._ I will take them off.

_O. W._ Your stockings are too dirty.

_M._ I will take them off.

_O. W._ Your feet are too dirty.

_M._ I will cut them off.

_O. W._ Then the blood will stream over the floor.

The Mother at this loses patience, and pushes her way in, the Witch trying in vain to keep her out. She, with all her children, then chase the Witch until they catch her; when they pretend to bind her hand and foot, put her on a pile, and burn her, the children fanning the imaginary flames with their pinafores. Sometimes the dialogue after "Here we are, mother," is omitted, and the Witch is at once chased.-Cornwall (_Folk-lore Journal_, v. 53-54).

One child represents an old woman who is blind, and has eight children.

She says she is going to market, and bids her eldest daughter let no one into the house in her absence. The eldest daughter promises. Then a second old woman knocks, and bribes the daughter, by the promise of a gay ribbon, to give her a light. Whilst the daughter is getting the light, the Witch steals a child and carries it off.

The daughter comes back, and makes all the other children promise not to tell their Mother. The Mother returns and says: "Are all the children safe?"

The daughter says, "Yes." "Then let me count them." The children stand in a row, and the Mother counts by placing her hands alternately on their heads. The eldest daughter runs round to the bottom of the row, and so is counted twice.

This is repeated until all the children are gone. At the end the eldest daughter runs away, and the Mother finds all her children gone. Then the Witch asks the old woman to dinner, and the children, who have covered their faces, are served up as beef, mutton, lamb, &c. Finally they throw off their coverings and a general scrimmage takes place.-London (Miss Dendy).

At Deptford the game is played in the same way, and the dialogue is similar to the Cornish version, then follows-

I'll ride in a pan.

That will do.

The Mother gets inside to her children and says to them in turn, "Poke out your tongue, you're one of mine," then they run away home.-Deptford (Miss Chase).

In another Deptford version the children are named for days of the week, the Mother goes out, and the Witch calls and asks-

Please you, give me a match.

The minder goes upstairs, and the Witch carries a child off. The Mother comes home, misses child, and asks-

Where's Monday?

She's gone to her grandma.

Mother pretends to look for her, and says-

She ain't there.

She's gone to her aunt's.

Children own at last-

The bonny Old Witch has took her!

The Mother beats the Daughter who has been so careless, goes to Witch, and says-

Have you any blocks of wood?

No.

Can I come in and see?

No, your boots are too dirty, &c.

[Same as previous versions.]

A number of girls stand in a line. Three girls out of the number represent Mother, Jack, and Daughter. The Mother leaves her children in charge of her Daughter, counts them, and says the following:-

I am going into the garden to gather some rue, And mind old Jack-daw don't get you, Especially you my daughter Sue, I'll beat you till you're black and blue.

While the Mother is gone Jack comes and asks for a match; he takes a child and hides her up. The Mother comes back, counts her children, and finds one missing. Then she asks where she is, and the Daughter says that Jack has got her. The Mother beats the Daughter, and leaves them again, saying the same words as before, until all the children have gone.-Ipswich (_Suffolk Folk-lore_, p. 62).

I'll charge my children every one To keep good house till I come home, Especially you my daughter Sue, Or else I'll beat you black and blue.

-Hersham, Surrey (_Folk-lore Record_, v. 88).

Halliwell gives a version of this which he calls the game of the "Gipsy." He gives no dialogue, but his game begins by the Mother saying some lines to the eldest daughter, which are almost identical with those given from Hersham, Surrey. Mr. Newell gives some interesting American versions.

This game appears in the versions given above to be a child-stealing game, and it may originate from this being a common practice some years ago, but it will be found on comparison to be so much like "Mother, mother, the pot boils over" (vol. i. p. 396) that it is more probable that this is the same game, having lost the important element of the "giving of fire," or a "light from the fire" out of the house, so soon as the idea that doing this put the inhabitants of the house into the power of the receiver or some evil spirit had become lost as a popular belief. "Matches" being asked for and a "light" confirms this. It will be seen that a Witch or evilly-disposed person is dreaded by the Mother, the eldest Daughter being specially charged to keep a good look-out. The naming of the children after the days of the week, the counting of them by the Mother, and the artifice of the eldest Daughter, in the London version, who gets counted twice, are archaic points. The discovery by tasting of the children by their Mother, and their suggested revival; the catching and "burning" of the Witch in the Dartmouth and Cornish games, are incidents familiar to us from nursery tales and from the trials of people condemned for witchcraft. Of the Cornish version it is said that "it has descended from generation to generation."