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66 WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS LIKE?"

"Why is poetry like a toad that has been shut century in a block of marble ? "

"Because," answered Mrs. Newton, "besides their both wearing a most precious jewel in their heads, they have endured so long already, that it is fair to conclude they may last to all eternity."

"Why is cribbage like my imprisoned toad?" was the next question.

66

Because," said Mr. Harevale, "I'm sure if the toad wished to move, he'd hit his head; so that, at a hard pinch, there is 'one for his nob.'"

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Why is chess like my incarcerated toad ?"

"Because the principal object in each is, undoubtedly, an effectual 'check-mate,'" answered Mr. Rose.

"Why is a watch like my captive toad ? "

"I believe I must borrow an idea from one of Lady Morgan's clever books," said Lucy England, "where the characters are assembled at a game like this, and a like question arises; the watch and the toad in the marble are alike, because in both instances, a calm exterior conceals within its centre wondrously elaborate conformation and mechanism. In the book I have taken the hint from, the idea is succinctly expressed by an Italian device, 'cheto fuor commoto dentro,' signifying 'quiet without, active within.' I do not exactly know, however, whether I can claim exemption from a forfeit by this answer, as it is not my own."

But it was unanimously agreed, that if the merit of invention was not Miss England's at least that of candour in avowing her obligation was; and so, her ingenuousness being accepted as a still better thing than originality, Mr. Singleton went on to the next question:

"Why is fire like my toad?

"Because there is latent vitality in both," answered Mr. Alexius.

"Why is a king like my toad?

"I know of one king that may be likened to it," answered Mrs. Rose; "king Charles I and the toad were both condemned to the block."

"Why is a railway like my toad ?

"Because there is a strong pressure on the concealed sleeper," replied Mr. Warden.

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"Why is music like my toad ?

"The imprisonment of your toad is like some sorts of music-one of Sebastian Bach's fugues, for instance,” said as it is a severe strain upon a tender

Mrs. Warden;

subject."

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"Why is a hat like my toad?

"Because there's abundance of nap," answered Mr. Gathergem.

"Why is a village like my toad?

"Because there is but a confined sphere of action for any poor toad of an ambitious turn of mind," replied Humphrey Willy.

"Why is a phoenix like my toad?”

"Because they both afford a distant prospect of resusci tation," answered Griselda Gathergem.

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'Why are the stars like my toad?"

"Because there is a world of remote existence presented

to our imagination," said Mr. Broughton.

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Why is an orange like my toad ?"

"Because it's in close quarters," answered Lucy Warden. "Why is a schoolboy like my toad ?"

"Because they're both longing for breaking-up day," replied little Mary.

"Why is a donkey like my toad ?"

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66

FORFEIT-GAMES.

'Because, if he's being beaten, (as he most likely is)," said Alfred Newton, "it is patient merit in a hard case.' 'Why is mesmerism like my toad ? "

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"Because there is insensibility to external circumstances," answered Mrs. Broughton.

"Why is Buonaparte like my toad ?"

"Oh dear, I can't possibly think of any likeness," said little George, who was now finishing his own dessert; "I've been trying to find out one, but it's impossible, and I shall have to give a forfeit !"

His sister Lucy whispered to him.

'Oh, yes, thank you, Lucy, that will do. Because he possessed a marble exterior," said George.

"I know why you yourself at this moment, eating away at that marmalade with such hearty good will are much more like my toad," said Mr. Singleton, laughing; “you are both of you alarmingly jammed in-I feel inclined to exclaim Ohe jam satis! But," proceeded he; "why is an author like my toad ?"

"Because (if he's a bad writer, at least)," said William, "there's a decided want of inspiration in both of 'em."

6

"Respiration, you mean," said his sister Lucy, laughing; "but 'inspiration' may pass, I suppose, without a forfeit." "For the mere sake of collecting forfeits," said Mr. Warden (the round of the game having concluded), "there are many better games than these two of Bob' and 'What are my thoughts like?' Earth, air, and water,' for instance, in which a handkerchief is held by an appointed person in the midst of the circle, and thrown suddenly to any one, accompanied by the exclamation of one of these three elements, and a rapid enumeration of one, two, three, etc., as far as ten, during which the person thus abruptly accosted is to reply by naming an appropriate inhabitant

of the particular element cited; but should he fail to do this before the word ten is uttered, or name an incongruous creature, such as 'dog' in answer to 'air,' 'eagle' in reply to 'water,' or imply that he has met a 'salmon' walking in the fields, by blurting out that fish's name when 'earth' is the word called-then he gives a forfeit."

"In crying the forfeits, there is scope for a great deal of ingenuity and entertainment," said Mrs. Warden; "in such penances, for example, as going the round of the company with the question' If I were a sheet of white paper, what would you write upon me?' in which case many a sly rebuke, or neatly insinuated compliment, may be conveyed by the stated script; and again, where each person is privileged to ask the penitent a question, to which he is compelled to answer 'Twas I.' Besides, there is frequently occasion, in the course of these penances, to obtain the favour of a song, or a recitation of some beautiful poetical passage. But," added she, "the dew is beginning to fall; what do our friends say to removing now to the drawing-room, where we shall find some tea and coffee ? "

6

Enigmas, Riddles, &c.-Magic-Legerdemain, or Sleight of HandMusic-Dancing-Recitation-Private Theatricals-DeclamationOratory-William's Supper Speech, forming the Conclusion.

"ALTHOUGH I do not go so far as Molière's young lady in the 'Précieuses Ridicules,' who proclaims that she is 'terribly fond of enigmas," said Lucy England, "yet I own that those amusing trifles, in all their specific varieties of the riddle, the charade, the conundrum, and the rebus, have their attractions for me; they afford an agreeable pastime, and even an exercise for ingenuity and quickwittedness, in the attempt to discover their solution." "And still more the endeavour to frame them," rejoined Mrs. Warden. "Our young friend here, Griselda Gathergem, sometimes tries her hand at a riddle in verse; and the other day she wrote a rhyming one for the children which your namesake will repeat for you."

"This is it," said Lucy Warden :