SCENE 1.--_A room in_ GIANT GREATBIG’S _Castle. Rear, left, window;

fireplace, with lighted candle on the mantel, centre; door, right, rear. Bare wooden floor. Left, a big cradle, containing the_ GIANT’S _baby. A rocking-chair next the cradle. Right, a rude table, on it a drinking-mug as large as a bucket. Smoke-stained walls. At the rise, a ring-around dance is going on to lively music. Those dancing are the_ GIANT, _the_ BEAR, _the_ DEAR DRAGON, _the_ OBLIGING OGRE, _and the four lost children. The_ MOTHERLY GIANTESS _stands at right, beating time with a potato-masher on a chopping-bowl. The door bursts open. Enter the_ THREE HAPPY LITTLE GIANTS _in great excitement_.

FIRST H. L. G. O papa! papa!

(_Dance and music cease._)

GIANT. What is it, my child?

FIRST H. L. G. Why, we peeped over the edge of the bean-stalk cliff, and Jack chopped the stalk down, and it fell on his leg, and he lies there groaning!

GIANTESS. The poor fellow! Hub, what are you going to do about it?

GIANT. We must help the lad. Boys, get the rope ladder. (_They do so._)

OBLIGING OGRE. Here, give it to me. What is an ogre for if not to be obliging? Come on, everybody!

[_Exeunt all but_ GIANTESS.

_Enter through window, left, the_ FRIENDLY WITCH _and her broomstick_.

WITCH. Good-evening, Mrs. Greatbig.

GIANTESS. Goo--good-evening! How you startled me! What have you been doing to-day?

WITCH. O, sweeping cobwebs off the sky, so that it will be bright and pleasant for picnics to-morrow. I cleaned soot out of chimneys to save work for the poor little sweep-boys, and I gave old men and women diamond spectacles with gold rims so that they can read without hurting their eyes.

GIANTESS. You are a good soul indeed.

WITCH. O, no, I’m not. I’m just reporting progress. And I dropped chocolates, and caps with lavender ribbons, through the open windows of Old Ladies’ Homes.

GIANTESS. Lovely! lovely!

WITCH. But the best fun of all was giving a breath of air to fifty poor women who work in city factories. I rode them on my broomstick three or four hundred miles or so. One dear thing cracked her funny-bone on the north star. I didn’t mean to brush by so closely. (_Enter the_ OGRE _and the_ GIANT, _supporting_ JACK, _whose leg is neatly bandaged. The other people follow._ JACK _is placed in the rocking-chair, by the fire_.) I can make his leg well, quick as a wink! (_She touches_ JACK’S _leg with her broomstick. He pulls off the bandage, and capers about delightedly._)

JACK. Thank you, dear Witch. Giant Greatbig, I am more sorry than I can say that I have hounded you all this time. I never suspected that you were a good giant. You know the kind of man your uncle used to be.

GIANT (_shaking hands with_ JACK). Well, now we are good friends, aren’t we, hey?

JACK. You know I’m an orphan. I wonder if you would care to adopt me.

GIANT. A very good plan. I know you will set a good example to my boys, and make yourself useful generally.

GIANTESS (_hugging_ JACK). You dear child, you! To think that an hour ago I dreaded to hear your very name spoken! My! How muscular you are!

JACK. Dear Mr. and Mrs. Greatbig, I would like to change my name. Hereafter I wish to be known as Jack the Giant-_Lover_.

(_All cheer and clap their hands. The_ DEAR DRAGON, _after embracing_ JACK, _goes to centre and recites_):

O, once I was a Nawful Thing--a dread to man and child. I snorted and cavorted till the villagers went wild. I ate a church and steeple and three hundred pews of people, And then I waved my crinkly tail, and bellowed, bowed, and smiled.

Of course I was a favorite when July Fourth came round, For my firework and my smoke-murk were the finest to be found. Why, people paid a dollar just to hear my mighty holler, And when I breathed out ten-foot flames they fell flat on the ground.

To shorten my biography, I’ll whisper what befell. A fire-brigade it was that made me anything but well. They played the hose, and soaked me, and with their wall-hooks poked me, Until I crawled away more wet and sore than I can tell.

I took a cold, and nearly died. When I grew strong again, I could no more breathe flames, and roar from my grim mountain den. I had no great desire, sir, to scorch the fields with fire, sir, Or to make my meals of churches filled with chubby village men.

(_Loud rapping heard._)

GIANT. Come in!

_Enter the_ HONEST ROBBER.

ROBBER. Hollo, everybody. Having a tea-party, Mrs. Giantess?

GIANTESS. O, no. Hub picked up some nice lost children in the wood, and here they are. Children, this is Rob Highway, the Honest Robber.

(_The_ HONEST ROBBER _shakes hands with all the children_.)

GIANT (_drinking from his mug_). Well, Rob, my boy, how have you been making yourself useful to-day?

ROBBER. This morning I went to the dog-pound with a furniture-van, and filled it cram-full of lost puppies--cram-full, children. You never heard such a growling and yowling in your life. I drove slowly, and whenever I heard a child crying: “I want my dog! He’s lost!” I’d say, “Describe him,” and it wasn’t long, generally, before the dog and his little master were in each other’s arms.

KIT. Hurrah for you, old man!

JOSCELIN. What else did you do?

ROBBER. This evening I have chased seventeen burglars and taken away their stolen goods from them.

MAYSIE. Did you keep the things yourself?

ROBBER. Fie, fie, no! I’m an _Honest_ Robber. I restored the property, and made a hundred dollars reward.

(_A distant clock strikes twelve, and the_ GIANT’S _alarm-clock goes off in his pocket. He takes it out hurriedly._)

GIANT. Yes, I am correct. Gracious, children, it’s very late for you to be up! My dear, shouldn’t they go to sleep at once?

Giantess. Yes, by all means, hub. I’ve been so excited I forgot all about such a thing as bedtime.

[_Exit, left._

GIANT. I’ll telephone for the Sand Man. (_Goes to the telephone at the right of the fireplace._) 128 Seashore, please. Hollo, Sandy. Take the first gust of wind for Castle Greatbig. He’ll be here in a moment, children.

(_Enter_ GIANTESS, _left, with green boughs_.)

GIANTESS (_strewing boughs on the floor_). Sit right down, chickabiddies. (_The_ LORINGS _and_ STACEYS _and the children of the_ GIANT _sit down together_.)

GIANT. Good-night, children. My helpers and I have an important piece of work to do between now and sunrise. We are going to carry a dozen or two tenement-houses from the city into the country, and set them down gently in green fields.

GILLIAN. Won’t the children be surprised and happy when they wake up!

BEAR. And in place of the houses we shall lay out a beautiful playground for the poor children who are left in the neighborhood. Good night, all!

CHILDREN. Good night!

JACK. Good night!

OGRE. Good night!

CHILDREN. Good night!

DRAGON. Happy dreams!

CHILDREN. Good night!

ROBBER. Good night!

CHILDREN. Good night!

WITCH. Good night!

[_Exit by the window._

GIANT. I’ll be back in the morning to see that you get home safely. Good night!

CHILDREN AND GIANTESS. Good night!

_Enter_ SAND MAN, _softly, by door, right, without rapping_. GIANTESS _nods to him, then blows out all but one candle. The_ SAND MAN _waves his hand. The children sink back on the boughs. He then casts a little imaginary sand from his bag into each eye, and goes out as softly as he came._ GIANTESS _takes up her baby from the cradle, left. It squalls. She hushes it, seats herself in a rocking-chair, centre, and sings this lullaby:_

B-a, ba, b-o, bo, B-i, bi, baby bye. Mamma’s little Giant is tired of all his play, Tired of all the mischief he has done to-day; Tired of pulling pine-trees clear up by the roots. Go to sleep, my Giant, my six-foot Tootsy-Woots!

(_Children snore._)

CURTAIN.

Orange Social.

Have bunches of yellow flowers pinned to draperies and in other places where the romping will not cause breakages. All the other decorations, as far as possible, should be of the same cheerful hue. Some one may give a brief talk describing “The Children that Live where Oranges Grow,” illustrated by stereopticon or by some of the Perry Pictures. This, if carefully prepared, can be made very interesting to children of colder climates than those of sunny Italy and our own South. Missionary features may be introduced if desired.

After the talk have the decks cleared for action. Did you ever see, or participate in, a game of orange croquet? If not, you have missed a great deal of fun. It is merely parlor croquet, with oranges for balls, umbrella-handles for mallets, and big books placed tent-wise upon the floor for wickets. An umpire could be improvised out of an orange, a squash, and four or five sticks or clothes-pins. Cut the features in the orange-peel with a penknife, fasten the orange head and the squash body together with a short stick whittled sharp at the ends, insert the clothes-pins for arms and legs, and your umpire is complete.

Following the croquet may be the game of “Mr. Woodenhead.” A strip of orange-colored cambric is stretched on the floor, across the room, to form a race-course. At one end place a large tray of oranges, at the other an empty basket. The game is to see who in a given time can carry the most oranges safely across the room, from tray to basket, with the aid only of a wooden spoon. A jolly face painted or carved on the outside of the bowl of the spoon, and a large yellow bow tied on for a cravat, turns the spoon into “Mr. Woodenhead.” He may be presented as a souvenir to the winner of the race.

Refreshments may be sandwiches, lemonade, and orange squares, or other plain cake with orange icing. As the children are about to go home, they may be given each a missionary mite-box in the form of an orange, to fill for the benefit of some mission field; or, if it has not been a missionary social, a souvenir that would please any child is a little basket cut out of the peel of an orange, using half, with a strip of peel from the other half left on for a handle, the basket so made to be filled with candies.

A Flower Show.

Each boy or girl represents a flower. Every one jots down the names of the other guests and the names of the flowers which he supposes they are. The reward for the most names might be a dozen roses, and for the least a pair of sunflowers, or a bunch of squash-blossoms, or a geranium growing in a bright-colored tin can. Here are some hints for costumes:

1. Pennyroyal. An English penny hung from the neck by a ribbon.

2. Oxeye. A target painted on a card. An arrow is sticking through the “bull’s-eye.”

3. Monk’s-hood. A boy wearing a monk’s cowl, or perhaps the complete dress of a monk.

4. Goldenrod. The boy or girl carries a brass curtain-rod.

5. Hop. The boy or girl must occasionally hop on one foot.

6. Four-o’clock, or Thyme, either one. A clock hung from the neck is set at four o’clock.

7. Elder. A boy is made to appear like an old man. His hair is dusted with flour, and wrinkles are painted on his face. He should lean on a staff, and wear spectacles.

8. Broom. A girl dressed like a housekeeper carries a tiny broom.

9. Rocket (rock it). A girl is rocking her doll in a cradle.

10. Sage. A solemn, wise-looking boy in spectacles, top hat, and long trousers. He must frequently peep into a large book.

11. Sweet-william. A boy named William should wear a necklace made of lumps of sugar.

12. Jonquil. A boy named John, wearing quills in every available place.

When the guessing and refreshments are over, a floral game which might be added is that of “Red and White Roses.” Sixteen can play. Tie a narrow strip of cloth to one sleeve of each Junior, eight of the strips white and eight red, to distinguish the Red from the White Roses. Appoint a captain from each side, or let one be chosen by “counting out.” Determine in the same way which side shall move first. Spread a sheet on the floor; mark it off with black crayon in sixteen squares, four on a side; and you are ready. The object of each division is to get four players of its own color in a row, either straight or diagonally. The first captain begins by placing himself on any square he chooses. The captain from the other side does the same, and the other players follow, one from each side moving alternately and trying to secure the row of red or white roses as the case may be. This game, believed to be a new one, is likely to prove a favorite.

An Evening with “Ads.”

Set the Juniors to collecting clever pictorial advertisements, omitting, of course, the liquor and tobacco ones. Each might learn what facts he can, of general interest, regarding the trade-mark chosen or the business represented in connection with the pictures he has selected. Then the Juniors invite their friends, young and old, to a social “evening with ads.”

The pictures are pinned by the Juniors to a large sheet previously fastened to the wall. After they have been thoroughly examined by the guests, they are taken down and distributed by the Juniors. One picture, together with paper and pencil, is given to each guest, who is then requested to write, in verse, a few lines to fit the picture. After this all are called upon to read what has been written. For example, a shirt-maker has an advertisement showing the picture of the back of a man’s head labelled, “This is Tom; meet me face to face,” with the question, “Am I Irish or Scotch?” written above it. The rhyme produced to fit it was as follows:

“Can this be Tom, the piper’s son, Of pork-abstracting fame? If so, he must be Irish, sure, The pig could prove that same! And Irish linen shirts, you know, Must be the very best; So buy your goods henceforth of Tom; You’ll find they stand the test.”

The papers are collected and put in a safe place, after which a vote is taken on the merits of the various effusions.

The pictures are then again distributed, this time to their owners among the Juniors, who have been making them a special study, and each Junior who is prepared tells a fact or two in regard to one of the pictures. The trade-mark of a certain popular brand of cocoa originated in Holland more than two hundred years ago, and no doubt the way in which it came to be chosen would make an interesting story. These incidents will bring out still other similar facts which the guests may happen to know regarding the advertisements, and a half-hour or so will thus pass pleasantly and instructively to all.

Refreshments may consist of some of the articles advertised, or of sandwiches, apple salad, small cakes, and lemonade, or, if in the proper season, hot maple syrup and biscuit at a charge of twenty cents a plate. If so voted, a more or less extended report of the evening’s entertainment may be sent to the newspaper; and a marked copy may be sent to the firm whose unique picture advertisement won the popular vote. This should be accompanied by a letter of explanation.

A “Jap” Social.

Have you ever seen the pretty little Japanese cottages in Jackson Park, Chicago, with their quaint decorations looking as if they had been transported in some really magical way from the land of the lotus blossom? It was looking at these that gave me the idea of a “Jap social” for the Juniors.

Arrange Japanese fans, parasols, and lanterns about the room, lay down strips or rugs of Japanese matting, and partition off various cosey nooks with Japanese screens. Have no chairs, but plenty of cushions instead. As to flowers, they can be chosen from a long list--chrysanthemums, white lilies and roses, purple Canterbury bells, cherry blossoms, clematis, yellow and white water-lilies; the pink lotus and white feathery orchid are not so easy to procure, but might be imitated, perhaps, with paper. At one such social the walls were entirely covered with branches of trees sprinkled thickly with cherry blossoms made of pink paper, representing the beautiful gardens of Tokyo.

This would be a good occasion for the Juniors to entertain strangers and “grown-ups,” and charge an admission fee, as it can be made very pretty and interesting.

Costumes for the Juniors can be improvised from flowered silk or cotton draperies with a little basting, a twist here, and a pin there, such as deft fingers can give. Do not forget the _obi_, or broad sash, the flowing sleeves, and the fans, for the little girls. One of the boys might wear a straw rain-coat, which is strictly Japanese, and is made as shown in the picture. Another boy might be a water-carrier, dressed in dark-blue cotton and bearing a yoke on his shoulders, from each end of which hangs a wooden water-pail.

The bells of Japan have a remarkably musical, silvery tone; tradition says that the finest have much silver in their composition, which may account for their deep and wonderful sweetness. Whether this be true or not, they are much more musical than Japanese music itself. They are not sounded by a clapper within, but are struck from the outside, by a sort of wooden arm or battering-ram. This might be imitated, by a little experimenting.

Tables should be placed around, containing curios and Japanese ware for sale, including blotters and other small articles decorated in Japanese designs, some of which can be prepared by the Juniors themselves; also real Japanese boxes and trays; the fine Japanese colored photographs procured from the United Society of Christian Endeavor; and the quaint Japanese dolls. Coins from Japan, if procurable, will be of interest.

Among the articles for sale should be the toy called by Japanese children “Daruma San,” or “Mr. Daruma.” It is a strong pasteboard figure of an old man in a squatting position, and is so rounded and weighted at the bottom that it will always bob up in a sitting posture, no matter how often one may knock it over. Another toy still more interesting is the “Ukibara.” These perfectly plain-looking little paper sticks are magical in their possibilities, for when placed in water they act as if they were alive, unfolding and floating around in the form of brightly colored fishes, flowers, fruits, animals, and many other pretty and curious things. Children, and older people, too, will watch them a long time without tiring of the amusement. They come in envelopes. An outfit costs fifteen cents, and can also be procured from the United Society.

Stories and recitations about Japan are in order. A fan drill by a number of girls would be a pretty feature to introduce, if desired, even though not new enough to claim space for description here.

Refreshments might include tea for the grown-up guests, sandwiches for all, small bowls of rice to be eaten with chopsticks, hot ears of roasted sweet corn on a pretty Japanese tray, and a variety of sweet cakes. All should be served on tiny square individual tables about six inches high; and, if any one complains at being obliged to fold himself up like an umbrella in order to partake of these delicacies, tell him that his complaints cannot be understood unless he will consent to express them in Japanese. But, as every one is extremely polite in Japan, there will probably be no trouble of this kind.

Sky-Parlor Reception, No. 1.

AN attic is usually a wonderland of delight to any normal child, whether a reader of Sara Crewe’s charming adventures or not; but it is a wonderland too little explored. A large, clean, light, old-fashioned attic may be utilized in turn for a reception-hall, curiosity-shop, library, work-room, dramatic recital, and romping-ground. Its possibilities are great, and would fill several afternoons. One such occasion might be as follows:

Let the Juniors be received with more or less ceremony by the committee of large or small folk who are acting as hosts and hostesses. If old-fashioned costumes are worn by those receiving, it adds to the fun. After the arrival in the “sky-parlor,” the guests are privileged to have a sight of any antique relics that have curious stories connected with them. If a nice grandma can be found to tell the stories, so much the better; but it is to be hoped that she will not prove too fascinating if there is to be any work done.

Tables are placed around in light portions of the attic, spread with piles of old papers and magazines, and a pair of scissors and a chair for each child. The Juniors look through the periodicals, and clip pictures, and perhaps stories also, that they think would be good for future scrap-book use, placing them in boxes, to be sorted next time. Rosy apples, nuts, and pop-corn will be acceptable after their arduous labors, and the Juniors will go home quite ready to come again the very next Saturday afternoon.

Sky-Parlor Reception, No. 2.

This time a corner of the attic is transformed into a representation of Sara Crewe’s odd little room, so cleverly and mysteriously changed from dismal bareness to cosey luxury by the East Indian friend next door. There should be a cot, cushions, rugs, draperies, quaint Oriental ornaments, and last, but not least, the three essentials--Sara herself, her long-suffering doll, and the monkey. A toy monkey will do. The story may be read--and more or less acted, if desired--for the entertainment of the children.

Either before or afterward some of the clippings may be sorted ready for scrap-books; and a few such afternoons of mingled work and play will be among the brightest experiences of the Juniors.

A Pastery Party.

Be very mysterious in your remarks about what is to go on at this party, answering all questions by whispering in the ears of your friends: “Why, don’t you know what a pastery party is like? I’m really surprised!”

There is pastry and pastry. A pastery party, to keep the secret no longer, is a scrap-book party, nothing more. O, but it’s fun! Try it. Get hold of a lot of illustrated periodicals; the more guests you have, the more magazines you need. If you can find colored picture cards besides, all the better. Ask your mother to make enough flour paste to fill several cups. Fifteen or twenty guests are not too many. A sheet, an old table-cloth, or neat pieces of wrapping-paper should be spread on the table or tables. There must be plenty of elbow-room for scrap-booking.

A pastery party need not be an expensive affair. I once had three dozen scrap-books made for about two dollars and fifty cents. This is the way I went about it: Down at the wholesale wrapping-paper store I bought a good-sized pile of sheets left over from a large order. The paper was manila, smooth, and not too thin or too thick. I cannot remember the exact measurements. At any rate, the old binder up-town cut them into two sizes, and the smaller size, eight by fifteen inches, is the best for a pastery party. There should not be more than twenty pages in a book. My covers were of terra-cotta cartridge-paper. Any medium heavy paper will do. If you wish to be economical, you can stitch each book with a single piece of string, punching the holes with a scissors-blade. The books should be numbered.

When the guests, seated at the tables, are waiting for the pie (or something) to be brought on, you and your assistants should enter, dressed in chefs’ aprons and caps, from the kitchen, first with a trayful of paste-cups, which you should set on the table in a very dignified manner, one cup for each guest. Maybe the guests will peer into their cups, and wonder whether they are expected to eat their custard without any spoons! As soon as they catch sight of the mucilage-brushes--which can be procured cheaply at the stationer’s--and the scissors, they will begin to suspect what is meant by the word “pastery.” Bring on next the scrap-books and the magazines, and tell your friends that at the end of an hour of “scrapping” rewards will be given by three grown-up judges for (1) the neatest and best-arranged book, (2) for the book containing the largest number of pictures, and (3) for the book which is filled first.

The time-limit should be exact. Every person should write down on a piece of paper the number marked on the cover of his book, and next to the number his own name. The books should be carried to the judges, who are seated up-stairs in a room with closed doors. Not until they have announced the winning numbers will they be furnished with the slips of paper containing the names to which the numbers belong. By taking these precautions the contest will be absolutely fair. The scrap-books should be given next day to the children’s ward of a hospital, or to the children’s room in a library. Each pastery-cook’s name should be written in his book, and under the names of the successful competitors should be set down what rewards they won.

The rewards might be these: A handsome scrap-book, a bottle of library paste, and a pair of scissors. While the judges are deciding, the company might play “Jenkins up!” or cut paper dolls. The refreshments might be miniature apple-pies, the size of a small saucer, for each guest. After the party is over ask those guests who did not have time to paste their books full kindly to do so at home and return them to the hostess as soon as possible.

A Pillow-Fight.

To prepare for this, the Juniors will be busy collecting “ammunition” for some time, from all quarters--woods and fields, garden and lawn, library and sewing-room. When there is enough, they can have their pillow-fight. In fact, they may need to have several of them.

First, the various pillows, or cushions, must be made. The girls can first make the plain, square, muslin foundation bags, and then embroider covers for them, or they can make the covers by sewing bright ribbons together in strips, or by crocheting them, or in various other ways to suit their own taste. Each Junior girl, from the oldest to the youngest, will want to make one.

Meanwhile, both boys and girls can collect, prepare, and sort the materials for filling them. Some can be filled with cotton, with a little sachet-powder sprinkled in; others, with paper torn into small pieces; others, with pine needles; others, with dried rose-leaves--or the rose-leaves, if not very plentiful, may be mixed with bits of paper, or used with cotton instead of sachet-powder. The clean, fine inner husks of corn, torn into shreds, and dried, make excellent ones; and a recent fancy is for pillows filled with dried autumn leaves. I would not advise feathers; they are not so inexpensive, and are usually too much trouble when flying about in a room full of people. The other materials named above are all easy to manage, and still other good ones will be likely to occur to the Juniors and their friends.

When the foundation pillows are filled and sewed up, which in itself will be both fun and work for the whole society, and before the decorated covers are put on, is the time to have the pillow-fight. Divide the Juniors into two companies; line them up across the room from one another, with their ammunition; and if they are normal children they will need no instructions how to proceed. The pillows are “fired” merrily back and forth until one company or the other is driven from its stronghold or has had all its ammunition confiscated by the opposing forces. It is a good test of the sewing, too; for, unless the stitches are secure, there _may_ be a sudden shower of rose-leaves, paper snowflakes, or autumn treasures, when least expected.

Nuts and apples, or other simple refreshments, will be welcome when the battle is over. The outside covers are then put on the pillows, and the last bit of sewing--the one seam left open in the pretty cover--may be finished if there is time, or taken home by the Juniors to be completed there. The pillows, when done, may be either sold at a fair or given to some home for invalids, where there never can be too many or too great a variety. If the latter plan is adopted, a cheering message, either a comforting verse from the Bible--the health promises are the best, and will often do what the doctor’s medicine cannot--or a bit of sunshine from some bright or restful poem may be written on a slip of paper and pinned to each pillow. Selecting, writing, and attaching these will make more pleasant work for the Juniors, which may be done separately or together.

A Good-Luck Social.

For a late October social, perhaps for a Hallowe’en frolic, this will be liked by many; but it is good at any time of the year.

A good-luck fairy, or witch, in a long red cloak and high pointed hat, should be mistress of ceremonies. If the time is Hallowe’en, the rooms may be lighted with Jack-o’-lanterns. One doorway may have a portière of apples hung on strings of different lengths. The tallest Juniors are to stoop and “bite” for those hanging on the longest strings; the shorter ones reach for those above, in the same way. In the middle of this portière hangs a horseshoe, and for the first game let the Juniors each try to throw three tiny apples between the prongs of the horseshoe. Those successful in doing so are supposed to have good luck throughout the coming year.

Another game that might be played is apple-shooting. Place apples of distinctive colors, red, yellow, and green, afloat in a tub of water, and let the Juniors shoot at them with toy bows and arrows. To fire an arrow into a red apple assures one of good health; to shoot a yellow one means wealth; and those who succeed in hitting the green ones are to have some especial piece of great good luck.

Arrange the chairs in the form of a horseshoe, and seat the Juniors, all except two--one who goes out of the room, and one who acts as “reporter,” and must have a good memory. This is the game of “wishes and compliments.” Each player makes a remark or wish concerning the one out of the room. For instance, one says, “She wears a wig.” Another, “I wish she would sing a song.” A third, “She can’t sing a note.” A fourth, “She can recite beautifully.” A fifth, “I wish she may go to Africa as a missionary.” A sixth, “She is dreadfully conceited.” A seventh, “She is the best scholar in her class,” etc. The “compliments” will not all be of the most flattering kind, and the wishes will be either sensible or nonsensical ones, as occur to the wishers. Then the reporter calls in the absent one, tells her that one person has said so-and-so about her, and asks her to guess from the remark who the person is. She has only one guess for each remark. As soon as she guesses one correctly, the one thus discovered must take her place; and so on throughout the game.

This game might be followed by a number of “good-luck stories,” each Junior telling the best piece of good luck, as he considers it, that ever happened to him.

A hunt for four-leaf clovers, of which there may be a hundred or more made of green paper and hidden about the rooms, will be enjoyed. The one who finds the most may be rewarded either by some trifle like a pin-tray or by a stick-pin in the form of a four-leaf clover or horseshoe; or, if he is one of the younger Juniors, by a copy of that charming little book for children, by Mrs. Annie Rix Militz, “The Wonderful Wishers of Wishing-Well.”

Again the Juniors may be seated in their horseshoe row, and play the game of “wishes and results,” which is quite different from the other wishing game. Each is given a slip of paper and a pencil, and is asked to write his greatest wish. These slips are then collected and others passed, on which each player answers the question, “What do you think would happen if you should have your wish?” These “results” are collected as were the wishes, and after thoroughly mixing the slips, but keeping the two sets separate, each set is numbered from one up, and the wishes and results are then read in pairs, according to number; the results, as might be expected, often proving amusingly inappropriate to the wishes.

Refreshments may be apples roasted and corn popped by the Juniors themselves, to which may be added nuts, lemonade, and cookies in the shape of horseshoes and four-leaf clovers. Just before the close, the good-luck fairy or some other “grown-up” should give a short talk clearly explaining the truth that every person really controls his own “luck,” and saying that a magical recipe will be given to each Junior on starting for home, which, if followed, will keep him always fortunate. This “recipe,” typewritten and handed to each in an addressed envelope labeled “Good-Luck Recipe,” is the definition of “luck” given by Max O’Rell, as follows:

“Luck means rising at six o’clock in the morning, living on a dollar a day if you earn two, minding your own business, and not meddling with other people’s. Luck means the appointments you have never failed to keep, the trains you have never failed to catch. Luck means trusting in God and your own resources.”

Making Valentines.

If some of the Juniors wish to surprise their friends, or the inmates of their pet charitable institutions, with kind thoughts in the form of valentines, those made by themselves are sure to be most acceptable; and then, too, it is such fun to make them!

The materials needed are white and colored paper, including gilt and silver paper, also paste and scissors. One has first to cut the colored paper into squares, which may then be folded into quarters and the quarters into triangles; then cut these into all kinds of intricate tracery, and they will be pretty when unfolded, for the repetition gives beauty to the most awkward cutting. Next paste them on a background of white, and decorate them with mottoes or with tiny doves and hearts, in gold.

One little girl even attempted to cut out a Cupid for a very special valentine, to be given to her grandma; and, although the Cupid was a little lop-sided, it was still quite imposing. Another wee girl, the little sister of one of the Juniors, made good use of her kindergarten skill by _sewing_ a valentine! Her sister prepared it for her by cutting a heart about three inches across, from a piece of folded paper; using this as a pattern, she marked around it on a piece of cardboard, made a small oblong in the centre, for a picture-frame, and pricked the outline for the five-year-old to sew with blue silk. This was accomplished with much delight, and with a stamp picture of the giver pasted in the centre of the oblong was as pretty a valentine as need be.

One favorite kind, the “window” valentine, was made by taking a square of paper, doubling it and cutting one straight slit half-way across from centre to the outside; then folding it once the other way--into quarters--and cutting off the corner so as, when unfolded, to make a square opening in the centre, with its corners opposite the sides of the larger square. While the paper was folded in quarters, a third slit was cut, parallel with the last one. When unfolded, this brought strips each side, which were folded back on the outside of the valentine; a picture was pasted back of the opening, and the valentine looked like this:

Another was made to represent the front of a house, with a “Welcome” door-mat and a door that opened and disclosed a photograph of the giver. On the door was inscribed,

“Open this door, and you will find One who would be your valentine.”

Still another represented a dainty lady on horseback just ready to jump through a paper hoop held by a clown. Underneath was the verse,

“Jump through this paper hoop of mine, And find your own true valentine.”

The paper in the hoop concealed a photograph. Of course it should be explained to the children that valentines containing photographs are supposed to be for relatives.

One of the prettiest surprises of all on the occasion of which I am speaking, was a wonder-box, made from a piece of heavy paper six inches across. Fastened securely in a most mysterious way, and with bits of candy rattling tantalizingly inside, it was a delightful, but not an easy, task, to open it, even to those who knew how.

The diagram shows by dotted lines exactly where the paper squares must be folded, and the heavy lines show where it must be cut. The holes are for the corners, folded small, to be put through, and then straightened out again.

This is the way the wonder-box looks when done:

It would be as good for a Christmas present as for a valentine.

A New Kind of Dinner-Party.

This was one of the invitations:

DEAR BERTOL:

I hope you will not think it odd if I ask you to be either a table-furnishing or something to eat at my dinner-party. Will you be kind enough to be served at my house two weeks from to-night; that is, Tuesday, October sixth, nineteen hundred and three, at half-past seven? And, if you accept, will you not please let me know what you choose to be?

Hungrily your friend, L. BETTINA ARNED.

_45 Muscovy Street, Tuesday, September twenty-second._

About thirty children came. Of course there were more girls than boys (there always are); still, the boys could be discovered without a microscope. Some of the guests were these:

1. Mock Turtle (soup). A boy with green cloth slippers on hands and feet, and a green oval cardboard shield on front and back. He wore green trousers and stockings, green tissue-paper hair, and green goggles.

2. Black Bass. A boy in burnt cork dressed like a negro singer. On a card hung about his neck was drawn a bar of music showing “bass” notes.

3. Duck. A little girl in a white duck dress.

4. Turkey. A boy in a fez and Turkish clothes--orange sash, baggy red jacket and trousers, and pointed shoes. He wore an immense burnt-cork mustache.

5. Game. A girl carried a checker-board under one arm and a pachisi board under the other.

6. Hare. A girl with her “hair” worn long.

7. Pear. Two girls kept hold of hands all the evening.

8. Sole (the fish). A girl wearing a card on which was pasted the picture of a shoe-sole.

9. Whitebait. A boy dressed in white (not duck, however). He carried a short bamboo fish-pole. The hook end of the line was fastened about his neck.

10. Chinaware. A girl in Chinese clothes.

As soon as a guest arrived he was given a numbered sheet and a pencil, and was told to guess--without exchanging hints with his neighbors--what everybody else was supposed to be. The reward for the longest list was an angel-cake, and for the shortest a stick of barber-pole candy, tied with bright green ribbon. Really, there were two dinner-parties that evening, for while the lists were being counted Mrs. Arned served lemonade and crackers.

Jack-Knife and Scissors Party.

The boys all bring their jack-knives, of course, and the girls their scissors. Other tools and materials, provided by the committee, are a pile of white pine boards knocked from old boxes; a bundle of tissue-paper and crape paper; some cardboard; a pot of glue; some wire, pins, tacks, small nails, and hammers. Rewards are offered to the boy and the girl who at the end of two hours have made the most useful or ingenious articles.

There is a wide range. Wooden spoons, plates, toothpicks, paper-cutters, dolls, toy boats and sleds, statuettes (!), window-sash supporters, and tabourettes; tissue-paper lanterns, mats, valentines, bouquets, and dresses for some of the wooden dolls; these form only a partial list of the result of one such contest. Ingenious Juniors will delight in inventing new and astonishing effects in both paper and wood. “The American Boy’s Handy Book” and “The American Girl’s Handy Book” would be suitable rewards. After their arduous toil the workers will appreciate a lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and lemonade. The articles made may be either given to some charitable institution or saved for a Christmas tree or fair given by the Juniors. The latter plan will generally prove more desirable, as only a few of the articles would be as suitable for inmates of any one institution as they would be for those of private homes.

Reception at Curlycue Castle.

Invite the Juniors to a reception at Curlycue Castle, giving date, hour, and street address, but no other particulars. When they arrive, they are introduced to the Queen--or King--of the Curlycues. This important personage is dressed in a more or less fantastic costume, in which the most conspicuous feature is profuse ringlets made of lovely light golden shavings; and carries a sceptre or wand, which in explaining the games, etc., is waved about in a style full of curves and curls, peculiarly its own.

The Juniors are suitably welcomed, and in a brief address the habits and customs of the singular, newly discovered race of people called Curlycues are explained to them, and they are informed that for the next two or three hours they are to consider themselves as belonging to the same race. Each is furnished with a long shaving curl, which badge of honor the newly made Curlycue, whether girl or boy, is expected to wear throughout the occasion.

Tell them the Curlycues are expert in shooting at a mark--whether they always hit it or not; that they have been much troubled by certain small wild animals called “excuses” which are found in the woods about the castle; and that occasionally these animals become so bold that they make themselves great nuisances, creeping into the castle itself, and hindering the Curlycues about their work and study. Then call all the Curlycues to an excuse-hunt.

In a large unfurnished room have a target almost half covering one side of the room. Have it prepared in advance with drawings of a number of comical faces, each plainly labelled with the name of some foolish excuse, such as “I didn’t think,” “He dared me to,” “Just this once,” “No one will know,” “She did it first,” “He began it,” “I don’t want to,” “I’m afraid,” “Wait till to-morrow,” “In a minute,” “By and by,” “I forgot,” “I can’t.” Truly a formidable array! Of course it should be explained that the most of these are entire strangers to the Juniors, but as Curlycues they are privileged to hunt them out and shoot them on the spot.

Each hunter is supplied with a bow and three arrows, and is told to see how many excuses he can dispose of. Some excuses count more than others in the score. This may be arranged at the discretion of the Junior superintendent. For instance, each excuse might count five, except “I forgot” and “Wait till to-morrow,” each of which might count ten. If a hunter has shot a certain excuse, it does not debar the rest from having a try at the same one if they wish. As in real life, each excuse may have to be killed several times over. The Curlycue who scores the most with his three trials is the winner.

After all have had a chance, and the excuses are pretty well disposed of, the children will enjoy a “Curlycue drawing-contest.” Give them paper and pencils, and tell them each to draw a Curlycue; that is, it must be explained, a single line about two inches long containing one or more crooks or curves. Exchange the papers, and let each draw a picture, using in it the line already drawn. Twenty minutes, or a half-hour, if preferred, may be the time-limit. A small reward may then be given for the best drawing.

A lively piano march now calls the Curlycues to their feet. They form in single file, and follow their leader in a very whimsical and circuitous march, finally bringing up at the dining-room, where crullers or other “curly” cakes are served, with milk or lemonade. Or the cakes might be flat, with chocolate, pink, or white icing decorated with “Curlycues” in another color.

“Polly Pitcher” Social.

This is a missionary “jug-breaking” in which the mite-boxes, in the form of tiny gilded jugs or pitchers, are all fastened to various portions of an imposing rag or pillow doll, the size of a grown person, if possible, named “Polly Pitcher.” Polly is fond of jewelry, and wears bracelets, necklace, earrings, and even a nose-ring, all composed of the mite-boxes.

As the Juniors know well for what purpose they have been saving, this is a time for rejoicing and merrymaking rather than for set speeches. After “Polly” has been despoiled of her treasures there may be, in another room, a game of “Polly Pitcher bean-bag.” This is the way it is arranged:

Have three bean-bags, two of them four inches; the other, five inches, square; a hoop fifteen inches in diameter, wound with ribbon; suspend this hoop from the ceiling by a ribbon loop tied to one side, from which you are to hang a small bell so that it will swing in the centre of the hoop.

Each Junior in turn is the “pitcher,” and in this case the bell is “Polly.” The player takes the three bags, and throws them successively through the hoop, trying not to disturb “Polly,” who will be sure to protest every time that she is hit. The two smaller bags are thrown first, then the larger one. Whenever the player succeeds in throwing a bag through the hoop without disturbing “Polly” it counts ten; that is, if the bag is one of the smaller ones. If it is the large one, it counts twenty. Whenever Polly lets it be known that she is disturbed, it takes off five from the pitcher’s score.

If there is time, other favorite games of the Juniors may be introduced. But usually it will be found that la belle Polly is fascinating enough to divide the honors about equally with her bejewelled namesake, and that by the time the refreshments are over and the size of the missionary fund is announced, the social may close with a few of the Juniors’ brightest songs.

House-Book.

When my sister was a little girl, she had one play that always gave her unfailing delight. It was her “house-book” as she called it, and I am sure the Juniors, especially the younger ones, would enjoy the fascinating play-work as much as she did, and the “houses” thus concocted might be given to a children’s hospital, where they would serve as fairy palaces for the tired little sufferers to dwell in.

The brown cover of Daisy’s house-book was nothing ornamental; in fact, the book, to begin with, was a more or less blank one that had already served its purpose in some commercial capacity. But that did not matter. You opened it to the first page, and saw the front of the house, outside, with its piazza and lawn. A hammock was swung somewhere,--I forget whether it was on the lawn or the piazza,--and some very distinguished-looking paper-doll people were going up the steps. Then you turned over the leaf, and found yourself in the parlor, with rug, chairs, and little tables, a piano, and all complete. Each page was a room. Going on, you visited in turn the library, dining-room, kitchen, and, I think, hall and stairs; then you took a peep into several sleeping-rooms, and of course the most important room in the house was the playroom, with two children in it, and toys of various kinds and sizes, scattered about. Generally speaking, the furnishings were in remarkably good proportion and well arranged; but the house lacked a cellar. Perhaps it was in Florida, where cellars are seldom indulged in.

A house-book can be made as simple or as elaborate as one desires. Pantries, cellar, china-closets, linen-closets, and attic might all be included; and one could put a cheery-looking cook in the kitchen and a trim maid with a ruffled apron in the dining-room, besides a large family of children and the father and mother, and, if you like, the grandfather and grandmother too. With such a wealth of pictures to choose from as can be found in the different papers and advertising sheets, very little need be left to the imagination. By all means set the Juniors to making house-books, and by the time they have real houses of their own to furnish, or even before, they will have acquired a very good idea of what is needed and where to put it.

A Parlor Athletic Meet.

Send the Juniors an invitation reading somewhat like this:

“You are invited to enter one or all of the athletic events of the Parlor Athletic Club, on Wednesday evening, November third, at 65 Sycamore Street. Everybody will break training at the end of the meet.

“BERTRAND C. FROST, _Field Marshal_.

“_October twenty-fifth, 1903._”

As each guest enters the front door, the scorer should put down the guest’s name, number it, and pin on his back a plainly numbered card. As he enters the parlor or dining-room, a paper and pencil should be given to him. The events should be plainly listed on a blackboard. The announcer should say: “Will each competitor please write his number at the head of his sheet, and under this the numbers, but not the names, of the events which he means to enter? The more entries, the better. Hand your sheets to me.”

Four judges (grown people are the best) can quickly make lists of the people entering each event. Then the announcer should clear the field, and the events should begin as promptly as possible. The following list may be too long:

1. Taking the largest bite from an apple hung by a string. The hands of the competitor must be held behind his back.

2. Holding the breath the longest without laughing.

3. Balancing a cane on one finger the longest.

4. Throwing bean-bags into a hole cut in a board. Fifteen feet is a good distance. Each competitor should be allowed five bags.

5. Laughing in the most original manner.

6. A tickling-match. Two competitors should each be given a feather. One hand must be held behind the back. An eight-foot circle is drawn. The winner is he or she who stays the longer in the circle without making a sound.

7. Hand-wrestling. Two people stand opposite each other, with legs braced, and grasp each a hand, holding the other hand behind them. The point is to jerk or pull your opponent in such a manner that he is forced to move one of his feet.

8. Standing on one foot, on a chair, the longest. The right arm must be held up straight, and not supported.

9. Sitting down on the floor, and getting up again most gracefully. The arms must be folded.

10. Thrusting a cane through a swinging napkin-ring. The fewest thrusts count the most.

11. Running up-stairs in the quickest time. Every stair must be used.

12. “Putting” the balloon. The competitor must stand in a seven-foot circle, or come up to a line from not more than seven feet back, and “put” a toy balloon as far ahead as possible. The distance must be measured from the spot on the floor or ceiling where the balloon first strikes, to the middle of the putting-edge of the circle or of the putting-line.

13. Bending over and touching the ground with the palms of both hands. The knees must not be bent. The point is to go over as many times as possible.

Three places should be counted in each event. A first place should score three points; a second place, two points; a third place, one point. The largest reward should be given to the boy or girl having the largest total score. Be sure to give rewards that either a boy or a girl would like, for girls have a way of winning them when they have a good chance.

A Tropical Fair.

For decorations use the graceful Florida moss if it can be procured; if not, tissue-paper orange blossoms are pretty. Palms and similar potted plants may be placed here and there. Have a pond made of a large mirror with the frame covered with foliage, and in or on the pond should be a number of pond-lily needle-books and penwipers; these the Juniors can easily make of white and green cloth for petals and leaves, with bits of yellow wool in the centre. There may also be in the pond some frog-shaped and alligator-shaped boxes made of wood with the bark left on for the alligators, and finished in both cases to look as lifelike as possible.

In the centre or at one side of the room have an orange grove. The oranges are various small articles, each wrapped in a wad of cotton, made as nearly round as possible, covered with orange-colored tissue-paper and tied with a green string to the evergreen trees composing the grove. Each purchaser is to select the orange he prefers, paying a trifle for it.

Besides the pond and the orange grove there may be a lemonade-well profusely decked with foliage, a booth where real oranges and other tropical fruits are sold, another booth for cake and candies, one for fancy-work, one for flowers, and a special one for fans, all having suggestions of the tropics about them. If the orange scheme is to predominate, the fancy-work booth should be filled with articles made in shades of orange, and the cakes, candies, and ices may be flavored with orange; the booths may be draped in orange and white, and the girls in charge of them should wear white dresses with orange ribbons. In the grove should be seats and small tables where refreshments can be served as ordered.

This will be found no more trouble to prepare, on the whole, than most ordinary fairs, and is much prettier.

Washington’s Birthday.

In Miss Alcott’s “Jack and Jill” are described several good tableaux taken from scenes in the life of Washington. The cherry-tree episode is delightful; Washington crossing the Delaware, exciting; and the “Daughters of Liberty,” the “Surrender of Cornwallis,” the pathetic camp scene, “Washington at Trenton,” the Washington family, and the simulated statue of the “Minuteman,” all very effective. The detailed description would take too much space here, but the book is to be found in most libraries; and, even if it is not obtainable, the subjects may prove suggestive, and are all within the ability of children or quite young people.

Many, however, will prefer games. Did you ever play “cherry-tree blind man’s buff”? For this you will want twenty or more candied cherries, and an impromptu cherry-tree, which may be the bough of an evergreen placed upright in a flower-pot or a box. Tie the cherries to the branches with bits of silk thread a few inches long. Blindfold the Juniors one at a time; turn the blindfolded one around three times; give him a pair of scissors; and tell him to clip all the cherries he can from the tree, allowing him three minutes for the trial. He must not feel for the tree with his hands, but simply reach out with the scissors and clip where he thinks the cherries are. A little box of candied fruit is given as a reward to the one who succeeded in clipping the most cherries.

On one occasion of this kind the “yarn-spinning contest” described originally in the “spinning social” of “Eighty Pleasant Evenings” was included, the guests each trying to tell the most improbable story. But instead of the most successful story-teller’s being honored with the title of “fibmaster-general,” the reward was quite unexpectedly presented to the one who had told the _poorest_ story, on the ground that Washington was a poor hand at telling stories and to be like him is a mark of patriotism worthy of reward.

“Burying the hatchet” is suggestive of all sorts of peaceful things, but is in reality quite a lively contest. Divide the company into two sections. Have ready one of the little hatchet-shaped candy-boxes, to be had at most confectioners’ about February 22. One division of the Juniors leaves the room; the other division hides the hatchet; and the outside party returns, and tries in five guesses to locate it. If successful, their side wins a point; if not, they win nothing. The two divisions change places, the first hiders of the hatchet going out of the room and becoming the guessers. Each side has three turns, alternating in this way. The side which has then won most points receives the hatchet filled with bonbons.

A “Washington quiz” historic in character, might be included, with such questions as the following:

1. In what State was Washington born?

2. In what year was he born?

3. Did George attend any college?

4. Who sent him on his famous journey through the wilderness?

5. What position did he hold under Braddock?

6. How did he act when complimented first on his military service?

7. In what year was he made commander-in-chief of the Continental army?

8. Where did he spend the winter of 1777?

9. When was he elected president?

10. How long did he hold the presidency?

11. Where did he die?

12. Did he hold slaves?

13. Did he approve of slavery?

14. What became of his slaves after their master’s death?

15. By whom was he called “First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen”?

ANSWERS.--1. Virginia. 2. 1732. 3. No. 4. Governor Dinwiddie. 5. Aide-de-camp. 6. Blushed, stammered, and could not speak. 7. 1775. 8. Valley Forge. 9. 1789. 10. For two terms of four years each. 11. At Mount Vernon. 12. Yes. 13. No. 14. They were set free. 15. Henry Lee, in a resolution presented in the House of Representatives.

Little paper flags tinted red, white, and blue were used in one such test, the questions being written upon the reverse side.

For refreshments, serve lemonade with canned cherries dropped into it, and fancy crackers or cakes in the form of little hatchets.

For the First of April.

Perhaps one of the Juniors has a printing-press; if so, this is a good chance to use it.

Print hand bills asking “all the wise people” in town to come to your entertainment to be given the evening of April 1, naming the hall and the price of admission.

Tickets should be distributed when asked for; as the hand-bills should announce, the tickets of admission are to be at a certain price, payable at the door as you go out, after the entertainment is over. This plan is in keeping with the rest of the evening, and is also partly to reassure any who suspect that an April First entertainment might be so complete a hoax as not to take place at all.

Have a poster at the entrance of the hall, warning every one, “Who enters here must leave all sense behind.”

The decorations are truly unique. Rugs, strips of carpets, and an occasional chair ornament the walls, while pictures and posters are hung up on the floor. A curtain might be gracefully draped along the floor of the platform. Everything, as far as possible, is in the place usually assigned to something else.

Programmes printed all sides up with care, and as unexpected in typographical arrangement as the furnishings, should be handed around. The announcement at the top of the page should be in small type, the rest in larger size; the margin should vary in width from line to line, each paragraph beginning at the edge of the sheet; and every sentence must begin with a period and end with a capital. The Juniors, with a little suggestion now and then, will find this part of the work great fun, and will learn some things regarding correct rules of printing in the very effort to break them.

The first thing on the programme is, of course, the good-night speech, thanking the audience for their kind attention and generous applause, and inviting them, before leaving, to partake of refreshments. The menus that are then passed may contain all sorts of possible and impossible dishes, but the refreshments themselves must be always something widely different from what was ordered. For instance, if one orders quail on toast, coffee, and layer cake, he is likely to get a cheese sandwich, a pickle, and a glass of water, with the grave assurance that these dishes were exactly the ones that he ordered.

After the refreshments the programme is rendered. “A recitation by little Edith Jones” proves to be some time-honored selection like “Mary had a little lamb,” or “You’d scarce expect one of my age,” recited in a childish lisp and high key, by the largest, tallest boy in the society; in fact, one of the seniors may have to be called upon for this honor, as he should be, if possible, more than six feet tall. “A patriotic address by General Wynhart” should be, on the contrary, a particularly captivating dialogue or duet by two pretty little girls, or a motion song by several tiny tots. “A violin solo by Signor Grateforio” is a song by a quartette. “A bass solo, ‘Rocked in the cradle of the deep,’ by Professor Rorer,” should be a little girl’s lullaby to her doll, very soft and sweet. “Grand chorus by four hundred voices” may be a violin solo. And so with the whole programme, ending with the address of welcome. Aim to have many really fine numbers, but see to it that every one is something unexpected.

As the people go out, the spirit of fun will have so thoroughly taken possession of them that it will be a wonder if there are no buttons or similar treasures offered as the price of admission, or rather of escape; but not many would be so mean, and then it need not be accepted, for, when asked, every one will be obliged to admit that he has had his quarter’s worth of fun.

Letter Social.

Label each Junior with a letter on his arrival. This may be done by having ready in advance small cards, each with a letter plainly painted on it and with a ribbon loop attached, to be pinned on the dress or hung around the neck. In preparing the letters omit V, X, and Z, and make several copies apiece of the letters in most common use.

First, the Juniors may see what words they can form by grouping themselves according to their letters. For instance, a Junior labelled with F goes and finds one with O, and together they have made one word, “of”; then these two group themselves with a third labelled R, and by rearranging the order they have “for”; then by finding successively T, H, and U, they have “fort,” “forth,” and “fourth,” etc. No group may discard a letter once accepted, nor add one that will not make a correctly spelled word, but they may rearrange the order of their letters as often as they wish. At the end of a stated time the group that has the longest word has won the game, which might be known as “word-building.”

Another letter contest, with the same labels, is perhaps still more interesting. It is called the “Alphabetical Question Game.” One of the Juniors asks another a question. The answer must begin with the letter worn by the one replying, and must be given before the questioner can count ten slowly and distinctly. If the one questioned fails to reply in time, or starts his reply with a wrong letter, the questioner takes his letter from him and adds it to his own. All players supplied with one or more letters may go about asking questions in this way, but two must not question the same player at once, and no one may give the same answer twice. A player may answer from any of the letters that he is wearing; and, if a player loses his only letter, he is supplied with another, but not more than twice. When time is up, the player having the most letters is the winner.

A game of “letter tag” is one in which the vowels all chase the consonants. Each Junior wearing a vowel is given a particular corner for his “den.” There is also a general goal. At a signal the vowels start in pursuit of the consonants, all circling the room in the same direction. Those consonants that escape to the goal without being overtaken are safe for the first run; those tagged are obliged to return with their captors to the respective “dens” and remain there until the end of the game. After a certain number of these runs the vowel that has captured the most consonants is pronounced Czar, or Czarina, as the case may be. But this is not all. The players remain where they are. Paper and a pencil are given to each vowel, and the one that can make the longest list of words, using only his own letter and his captive consonants, is the final winner, and receives the reward.

By this time both vowels and consonants will be ready for refreshments, which may consist of lemonade and fancy alphabet crackers, or cakes with lettered icing. A few songs and recitations may be introduced to add variety; and a pleasing exercise for the close would be “The Juniors’ Message to All,” given as follows:

Select eight of the Juniors who are rather slender, about the same height, and dressed in white. Take off their labels. Placing a large screen temporarily before them, or closing the sliding doors between them and their expectant audience, arrange them in front of a dark curtain or other background in such positions that they will themselves form letters of white, spelling a short word easily recognized. It is not very difficult, but you will need to experiment a little. For the first letter, one Junior stands facing the audience for the upright part, another sits on the floor just behind, facing the right; for the second letter, two Juniors curve themselves as completely as possible around a hoop which they both hold, the open part toward the audience; for the third, two stand leaning away from each other, with hands or a string tightly clasped to keep from falling; for the fourth, the same arrangement as the first except that the standing Junior reaches one arm straight out at the side, toward the right of the audience, and the seated one also reaches one arm partly out in the same direction. Remove the screen when you have them arranged to your satisfaction, and the other children will recognize, in living letters of white, the word “LOVE,” which is the Juniors’ message to all.

The Tuffet and the Web

A Fantasy in Two Acts and Two Scenes

BY VINCENT VAN MARTER BEEDE

“Little Miss Muffet Sat on a tuffet, Eating curds and whey. There came a black spider, And sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away.”

People of the Play

LITTLE MISS MUFFET, _Queen of the Meadow_. THE BLACK SPIDER. THE FLY. THE CRICKET. THE WISE MOLE. THREE FIELD-MICE. SIX LITTLE DAIRYMAIDS. THREE ELVES, _boys_. THREE SPRITES, _girls_. SIX RABBITS, _three boys and three girls_.