An illustration will, perhaps, best explain our meaning. We will suppose the word _Christmas_ to have been chosen. If so, the performer might first begin by waving his stick aloft, then he must commence writing, as if with great care, on the ground, at the same time remarking, "_C_ome quickly, fellow-worker, and prepare for thy duty." Here must be a slight pause, followed by the second sentence. "_H_ow difficult thy task will be, I dare not tell." Another pause, then the third sentence. "_R_emember, nothing can be really well done without labour." We have now got C H R. _I_ being the next letter, is represented by three loud thumps with the stick. The conjuror here, assuming a puzzled air, might observe, "_S_urely we shall not be baffled." A pause, and then, "_T_rust me, I will help all I can." After another pause, "_M_ark my wand with care." The letter _A_ coming now, one good thump is given on the floor; then, with the words "Speak quickly, friend, say the word," followed by one good thump, the mysterious business is concluded, the accomplice, no doubt, easily detecting that _Christmas_ was the word chosen.
This is a game that is played alphabetically, in a manner somewhat resembling "Cupid is coming" and "I love my love." The first player begins by saying, "The minister's cat" is an "ambitious cat," the next an "artful cat," and so on, until all have named an adjective beginning with A. The next time of going round the adjectives must begin with B, the next time C, and so on until the whole of the alphabet has been gone through.
A great amount of fun may be obtained from this game of mixing up poetry, which is nothing more than selecting lines from different authors, and arranging them so as to make rhyme. The specimen below, prepared by Kitty Carrol, will illustrate our meaning:--
There was a sound of revelry by night, Away down south where I was born; Let dogs delight to bark and bite, Cows in the meadow and sheep in the corn.
A chieftain to the Highlands bound, His father's hope, his mother's joy, Found something smooth and hard and round, John Brown's little Indian boy.
Man wants but little here below, Oats, peas, beans, and barley; This world is all a fleeting show, Over the water to Charley.