Chapter II: Part 2

Striking the stick is similar to tip-cat which we have often seen played by boys on the streets of New York. The children mark out a square five or six feet on each side. The striker takes a position inside, with his feet spread apart as wide as possible, to give him a better command of the square. One of the others places the block in the position which he supposes will be most difficult for the striker to hit. The latter is then at liberty to twist around on one foot, placing the other outside the square, in order if possible to secure a position from which he can strike to advantage. He then throws a stick about fifteen inches long at the block to drive it out of the square. If he fails, the one who placed the block takes the stick, and another places the block for him. If he succeeds he has the privilege of striking the block three times as follows: He first strikes it perpendicularly, which causes it to bound up two or three feet, when he hits it as one would hit a ball, driving it as far as possible. This he repeats three times, and if he succeeds in driving it the distance agreed upon, which may be 20, 50, 200, 300, 500 or more feet, he wins the game. If not he brings back the block and tries again, continuing to strike until he fails to drive it out of the square. This game develops ingenuity in placing the block and skill, in striking, and is one of the most popular of all boys' games.

When they had finished striking the stick one of the smaller children went over to where Chi was standing and whispered in his ear. The expression of his face remained as unchangeable as that of a stone image, as he called out:

"Select fruit."

The boys danced about in high glee, selected two captains who chose sides, and they all squatted down in two rows twenty feet apart. Each boy was given the name of some kind of fruit, such as apples, pears, peaches, quinces or plums, all of which are common about Peking. The captain on one side then blindfolded one of his boys, while one from the other group arose and stealthily walked over and touched him, returning to his place among his own group and taking as nearly as possible the position he had when the other was blindfolded. In case his companions are uncertain as to whether his position is exactly the same, they all change their position, in order to prevent the one blindfolded from guessing who it was who left his place.

The covering was then removed from his eyes, he went over to the other side, examined carefully if perchance he might discover, from change of position, discomfort in squatting, or a trace of guilt in the face or eyes of any of them, a clue to the guilty party. He "made faces" to try to cause the guilty one to laugh. He gesticulated, grimaced, did everything he could think of, but they looked blank and unconcerned, or all laughed together, allowing no telltale look to appear on their faces. His pantomimes sometimes brought out the guilty one, but in case they did not, his last resort was to risk a guess, and so he made his selection. If he was right he took the boy to his side; if wrong, he stayed on their side. One of their side was then blindfolded, and the whole was repeated until one group or the other lost all its men. The game is popular among girls as well as boys.

"Do you have any other guessing games?" we asked Chi.

"Yes, there is point at the moon or the stars," he answered, "and blind man is also a guessing game."

By this time the boys had become enthusiastic, and had entirely forgotten that they were playing for us or indeed for any purpose. It was a new experience, this having their games taken in a notebook, and each was anxious not only that he play well, but that no mistake be made by any one. The more Chi realized the importance of playing the games properly the more solemn he became, if indeed it were possible to be more solemn than was his normal condition. He now changed to a game of an entirely different character from those already played. Those developed strength, skill or curiosity; this developed quick reaction in the players.

"What shall we play?" inquired one of the boys.

"Queue," answered Chi.

Immediately every boy jerked his queue over his shoulder and began to edge away from his companions. But as he walked away from one he drew near another, and a sudden calling of his name would so surprise him that in turning his head to see who spoke his short queue would be jerked back over his shoulder and he received a dozen slaps from his companions, all of whom were waiting for just such an opportunity. This is the object of the game--to catch a boy with his queue down his back. Some of the boys, more spry than others, would move away to a distance, and then as though all unconsciously, allow their queue to hang down the back in its natural position, depending upon their fleetness or their agility in getting out of the way or bringing the queue around in front. This game is peculiarly interesting and caused much hilarity. At times even the solemn face of Chi relaxed into a smile.

"Honor," called out Chi, and as in the circus when the ringmaster cracks his whip, everything changed. The boys each hooked the first finger of his right hand with that of his companion and then pulled until their fingers broke apart, when they each uttered the word "Honor." This must not be spoken before they broke apart, but as soon as possible after, and he who was first heard was entitled to an obeisance on the part of the other. Those who failed the first trial sat down, and those who succeeded paired off and pulled once more, and so on until only one was left, who, as in the spelling-bees of our boyhood days, became the hero of the hour.

Chi, however, was not making heroes, or was it that he did not want to hurt the feelings of those who were less agile; at any rate he called out "Hockey," and the boys at once snatched up their short sticks and began playing at a game that is not unlike our American "shinny," a game which is so familiar to every American boy as to make description unnecessary--the principal difference between this and the American game being that the boys all try to prevent one boy from putting a ball into what they call the big hole, which, like the others, tended to develop quickness of action in the boys.

I was familiar with the fact that there are certain games which tend to develop the parental or protective instinct in children, while certain others develop the combative and destructive, as for instance playing with dolls develops the mother-instinct in girls; tea-parties, the love of society; and paper dolls teach them how to arrange the furniture in their houses; while on the other hand, wrestling, boxing, sparring, battles, and all such amusements if constantly engaged in by boys, tend to make them, if properly guided and instructed, brave and patriotic; but if not properly led, cause them to be quarrelsome, domineering, cruel, coarse and rough, and I wondered if the Chinese boys had any such games.

"Chi," I asked, "do you have any such games as host and guest, or games in which the large boys protect the small ones?"

"Host and guest," said Chi.

The boys at once arranged themselves promiscuously over the playground, and with a few peanuts, or sour dates which they picked up under the date trees, with all the ceremony of their race, they invited the others to dine with them. After playing thus for a moment, Chi called out:

"Roast dog meat."

The children gathered in a group, put the palms of their hands together, squatted in a bunch or ring, and placed their hands together in the centre to represent the pot. The boy on the left of the illustration represents Mrs. Wang, the guest of the occasion, while Chi himself stands on the right with his hand on the head of one of the boys. Chi walked around the ring while he sang:

Roast, roast, roast dog meat,
The second pot smells bad,
The little pot is sweet,
Come, Mrs. Wang, please,
And eat dog meat.

He then invited Mrs. Wang to come and partake of a dinner of dog meat with him, and the following conversation ensued.

I cannot walk.
I'll hire a cart for you.
I'm afraid of the bumping.
I'll hire a sedan chair for you.
I'm afraid of the jolting.
I'll hire a donkey for you.
I'm afraid of falling off.
I'll carry you.
I have no clothes.
I'll borrow some for you.
I have no hair ornaments.
I'll make some for you.
I have no shoes.
I'll buy some for you.

This conversation may be carried on to any length, according to the fertility of the minds of the children, the excuses of Mrs. Wang at times being very ludicrous. All these, however, being met, the host carries her off on his back to partake of the dainties of a dog meat feast.

"What were you playing a few days ago when all the boys lay in a straight line?"

"Skin the snake."

The boys danced for glee. This was one of their favorite games.

They all stood in line one behind the other. They bent forward, and each put one hand between his legs and thus grasped the disengaged hand of the boy behind him.

Then they began backing. The one in the rear lay down and they backed over astride of him, each lying down as he backed over the one next behind him with the other's head between his legs and his head between the legs of his neighbor, keeping fast hold of hands. They were thus lying in a straight line.

The last one that lay down then got up, and as he walked astride the line raised each one after him until all were up, when they let go hands, stood straight, and the game was finished.

"Have you any other games which develop the protective instinct in boys?" we inquired of Chi.

"The hawk catching the young chicks," said the matter-of-fact boy, answering my question and directing the boys at the same time.

The children selected one of their number to represent the hawk and another the hen, the latter being one of the largest and best natured of the group, and one to whom the small boys naturally looked for protection.

They formed a line with the mother hen in front, each clutching fast hold of the others' clothing, with a large active boy at the end of the line.

The hawk then came to catch the chicks, but the mother hen spread her wings and moved from side to side keeping between the hawk and the brood, while at the same time the line swayed from side to side always in the opposite direction from that in which the hawk was going. Every chick caught by the hawk was taken out of the line until they were all gone.

One of the boys whispered something to Chi.

"Strike the poles," exclaimed the latter.

As soon as they began playing we recognized it as a game we had already seen.

The boys stood about four feet apart, each having a stick four or five feet long which he grasped near the middle. As they repeated the following rhyme in concert they struck alternately the upper and lower ends of the sticks together, occasionally half inverting them and thus striking the upper ends together in an underhand way. They struck once for each accented syllable of the following rhyme, making it a very rhythmical game.

Strike the stick,
One you see.
I'll strike you and you strike me.
Strike the stick,
Twice around,
Strike it hard for a good, big sound.
Strike it thrice,
A stick won't hurt.
The magpie wears a small white shirt.
Strike again.
Four for you.
A camel, a horse, and a Mongol too.
Strike it five--
Five I said,
A mushroom grows with dirt on its head.
Strike it six
Thus you do,
Six good horsemen caught Liu Hsiu.
Strike it seven
For 'tis said
A pheasant's coat is green and red.
Strike it eight,
Strike it right,
A gourd on the house-top blossoms white.
Strike again,
Strike it nine,
We'll have some soup, some meat and wine.
Strike it ten,
Then you stop,
A small, white blossom on an onion top.

Chi did not wait for further suggestion from any one, but called out:

"Throw cash."

The boys all ran to an adjoining wall, each took a cash from his purse or pocket, and pressing it against the wall, let it drop. The one whose cash rolled farthest away took it up and threw it against the wall in such a way as to make it bound back as far as possible.

Each did this in turn. The one whose cash bounded farthest, then took it up, and with his foot on the place whence he had taken it, he pitched or threw it in turn at each of the others. Those he hit he took up. When he missed one, all who remained took up their cash and struck the wall again, going through the same process as before. The one who wins is the one who takes up most cash.

This seemed to call to mind another pitching game, for Chi said once more in his old military way:

"Pitch brickbats."

The boys drew two lines fifteen feet apart. Each took a piece of brick, and, standing on one line pitched to see who could come nearest to the other.

The one farthest from the line set up his brick on the line and the one nearest, standing on the opposite line, pitched at it, the object being to knock it over.

If he failed he set up his brick and the other pitched at it.

If he succeeded, he next pitched it near the other, hopped over and kicked his brick against that of his companion, knocking it over. Then he carried it successively on his head, on each shoulder, on back and breast (walking), in the bend of his thigh and the bend of his knee (hopping), and between his legs (shuffling), each time dropping it on the other brick and knocking it over.

Finally he marked a square enclosing the brick, eighteen inches each side, and hopped back and forth over both square and brick ten times which constituted him winner of the game.

Chi had become so expert in pitching and dropping the brick as to be able to play the game without an error. The shuffling and hopping often caused much merriment.

"What is that game," we inquired of Chi, "the boys on the street play with two marbles?"

Without directly answering my question Chi turned to the boys and said:

"Kick the marbles."

The boys soon produced from somewhere,--Chinese boys can always produce anything from anywhere,--two marbles an inch and a half in diameter. Chi put one on the ground, and with the toe of his shoe upon it, gave it a shove. Then placing the other, he shoved it in the same way, the object being to hit the first.

There are two ways in which one may win. The first boy says to the second, kick this marble north (south, east or west) of the other at one kick. If he succeeds he wins, if he fails the other wins.

If he puts it north as ordered, he may kick again to hit the other ball, in which case he wins again. If he hits the ball and goes north, as ordered, at one kick, he wins double.

Each boy tries to leave the balls in as difficult a position as possible for his successor; and here comes in a peculiarity which leaves this game unique among the games of the world. If the position in which the balls are left is too difficult for the other to play he may refuse to kick and the first is compelled to play his own difficult game--or like Haman--to hang on his own gallows. It recognizes the Chinese golden rule of not doing to others what you would not have them do to you.

The boys spent a long time playing this game--indeed they seemed to forget they were playing for us, and we were finally compelled to call them off.

Chi had turned the marbles over to the others as soon as he had fairly started it, and stood in that peculiar fashion of his with one leg wound around the other, and when we called to them, he simply said as though it were the next part of the same game:

"Kick the shoes."

The boys all took off their shoes--an easy matter for an Oriental--and piled them in a heap. At a given sign they all kicked the pile scattering the shoes in every direction, and each snatched up, and, for the time, kept what he got. Those who were very agile got their own shoes, or a pair which would fit them, while those who were slow only secured a single shoe, and that either too large or too small. It was amusing to see a large-footed boy with a small shoe, and a boy with small feet having a shoe or shoes much too large for him.

The game was a good test of the boys' agility.

On consulting our watch we found it would soon be time for the boys to enter school, but asked them to play one more game.

"Cat catching mice," said Chi.

The children selected one of their company to represent the cat and another the mouse.

The remainder formed a ring with the mouse inside and the cat outside, and while the ring revolved, the following conversation took place:

"What o'clock is it?"
"Just struck nine."

"Is the mouse at home?"
"He's about to dine."

All the time the mouse was careful to keep as far as possible from the cat.

The ring stopped revolving and the cat popped in at this side and the mouse out at the other. It is one of the rules of the game that the cat must follow exactly in the footsteps of the mouse. They wound in and out of the ring for some time but at last the mouse was caught and "eaten," the eating process being the amusing part of the game. It is impossible to describe it as every "cat" does it differently, and one of the virtues of a cat is to be a good eater.

The boys continued to play until the bell rang for the evening session. They referred to many different games which they had received from Europeans, but played only those which Chi had learned upon the street before he entered school. This was repeated day after day, until we had gathered a large collection of their most common, and consequently their best, games, the number of which was an indication of the richness of the play life of Chinese boys.

Another peculiarly interesting fact was the leadership of Chi. The Chinese boy, like the Chinese man is a genuine democrat and is ready to follow the one who knows what he is about and is competent to take the lead, with little regard to social position. It is the civil service idea of a genuine democracy ingrained in childhood.

GAMES PLAYED BY GIRLS

After having made the collection of boys' games we undertook to obtain in a similar way, fullest information concerning games played by the girls. Of course, it was impossible to do it alone, for the appearance of a man among a crowd of little girls in China is similar to that of a hawk among a flock of small chicks--it results in a tittering and scattering in every direction, or a gathering together in a dock under the shelter of the school roof or the wings of the teacher. One of the teachers, however, Miss Effie Young, kindly consented to go with us, and a goodly number of the small girls, after a less than usual amount of tittering and whispering, gathered about us to see what was wanted. The smallest among them was the most brave, and Miss Young explained that this was a "little street waif" who had been taken into the school because she had neither home nor friends, with the hope that something might be done to save her from an unhappy fate.

"Do you know any games?" we asked her.

She put her hands behind her, hung her head, shuffled in an embarrassed manner, and answered: "Lots of them."

"Play some for me."

This small girl after some delay took control of the party and began arranging them for a game, which she called "going to town," similar to one which the boys called "pounding rice." Two of the girls stood back to back, hooked their arms, and as one bent the other from the ground, and thus alternating, they sang:

Up you go, down you see,
Here's a turnip for you and me;
Here's a pitcher, we'll go to town;
Oh, what a pity, we've fallen down.

At which point they both sat down back to back, their arms still locked, and asked and answered the following questions:

What do you see in the heavens bright?
I see the moon and the stars at night.
What do you see in the earth, pray tell?
I see in the earth a deep, deep well.
What do you see in the well, my dear?
I see a frog and his voice I hear.
What is he saying there on the rock?
Get up, get up, ke'rh kua, ke'rh kua.

They then tried to get up, but, with their arms locked, they found it impossible to do so, and rolled over and got up with great hilarity.

This seemed to suggest to our little friend another game, which she called "turning the mill." The girls took hold of each other's hands, just as the boys do in "churning butter," but instead of turning around under their arms they turn half way, put one arm up over their head, bringing their right or left sides together, one facing one direction and one the other; then, standing still, the following dialogue took place:

Where has the big dog gone?
Gone to the city.
Where has the little dog gone?
Run away.

Then, as they began to turn, they repeated:

The big dog's gone to the city;
The little dog's run away;
The egg has fallen and broken,
And the oil's leaked out, they say.
But you be a roller
And hull with power,
And I'll be a millstone
And grind the flour.

As soon as this game was finished our little friend arranged the children against the wall for another game. Everything was in readiness. They were about to begin, when one of the larger girls whispered something in her ear. She stepped back, put her hands behind her, hung her head and thought a moment.

"Go on," we said.

"No, we can't play that; there is too much bad talk in it." This is one of the unfortunate features of Chinese children's games and rhymes. There is an immense amount of bad talk in them.

She at once called out:

"Meat or vegetables."

Each girl began to scurry around to find a pair of old shoes, which may be picked up almost anywhere in China, and putting one crosswise of the other, they let them fall. The way they fell indicated what kind of meat or vegetables they were. If they both fell upside down they were the big black tiger. If both fell on the side they were double beans. If one fell right side up and the other on its side they were beans. If both were right side up they were honest officials. (What kind of meat or vegetables honest officials are it is difficult to say, but that never troubles the Chinese child.) If one is right side and the other wrong side up they are dogs' legs. If the toe of one rests on the top of the other, both right side up and at right angles, they form a dark hole or an alley.

The child whose shoes first form an alley must throw a pebble through this alley--that is, under the toe of the shoe--three times, or, failing to do so, one of the number takes up the shoes, and standing on a line, throws them all back over her head. Then she hops to each successively, kicking it back over the line, each time crossing the line herself, until all are over. In case she fails another tries it in the same way, and so on, till some one succeeds. This one then takes the two shoes of the one who got the alley, and, hanging them successively on her toe, kicks them as far as possible. The possessor of the shoes, starting from the line, hops to each, picks it up and hops back over the line with it, which ends the game. It is a vigorous hopping game for little girls.

The girls were pretty well exhausted when this game was over and we asked them to play something which required less exercise.

"Water the flowers," said the small leader.

Several of them squatted down in a circle, put their hands together in the centre to represent the flowers. One of their number gathered up the front of her garment in such a way as to make a bag, and went around as if sprinkling water on their heads, at the same time repeating:

"I water the flowers, I water the flowers,
I water them morning and evening hours,
I never wait till the flowers are dry,
I water them ere the sun is high."

She then left a servant in charge of them while she went to dinner. While she was away one of them was stolen.

Returning she asked: "How is this that one of my flowers is gone?"

"A man came from the south on horseback and stole one before I knew it. I followed him but how could I catch a man on horseback?"

After many rebukes for her carelessness, she again sang:

"A basin of water, a basin of tea,
I water the flowers, they're op'ning you see."

Again she cautioned the servant about losing any of the flowers while she went to take her afternoon meal, but another flower was stolen and this time by a man from the west.

When the mistress returned, she again scolded the servant, after which she sang:

"A basin of water, another beside,
I water the flowers, they're opening wide."

This was continued until all the flowers were gone. One had been taken by a carter, another by a donkey-driver, another by a muleteer, another by a man on a camel, and finally the last little sprig was eaten by a chicken. The servant was soundly berated each time and cautioned to be more careful, which she always promised but never performed, and was finally dismissed in disgrace without either a recommendation, or the wages she had been promised when hired.

The game furnishes large opportunity for invention on the part of the servant, depending upon the number of those to be stolen. This little girl seemed to be at her wit's end when she gave as the excuse for the loss of the last one that it had been eaten by a chicken.

This game suggested to our little friend another which proved to be the sequel to the one just described, and she called out:

"The flower-seller."

The girl who had just been dismissed appeared from behind the corner of the house with all the stolen "flowers," each holding to the other's skirts. At the same time she was calling out:

"Flowers for sale,
Flowers for sale,
Come buy my flowers
Before they get stale."

The original owner hereupon appeared and called to her:

"Hey! come here, flower-girl, those flowers look like mine," and she took one away.

The flower-seller did not stop to argue the question but hurried off crying:

"Flowers for sale," etc.

The original owner again called to her:

"Ho! flower-seller, come here, those flowers are certainly mine," whereupon she took them all and whipped the flower-seller who ran away crying.

As the little flower-seller ran away crying in her sleeve, she stumbled over an old flower-pot that lay in the school court. This accident seemed to act as a reminder to our little leader for she called out,

"Flower-pot."

The girls divided themselves into companies of three and stood in the form of a triangle, each with her left hand holding the right hand of the other, their hands being crossed in the centre.

Then by putting the arms of two back of the head of the third she was brought into the centre (steps into the well), and by stepping over two other arms, she goes out on the opposite side, so that whereas she was on the left side of this and the right side of that one, she now stands on the right side of this and the left side of that girl. In the same way the second and third girls go through, and so on as long as they wish to keep up the game, saying or singing the following rhyme:

You first cross over, and then cross back,
And step in the well as you cross the track,
And then there is something else you do,
Oh, yes, you make a flower-pot too.

By this time the girls had lost most of their strangeness or embarrassment and continued the flower-pot until we were compelled to remind them that they were playing for us. Everybody let go hands and the little general called out,

"The cow's tail."

One girl with a small stick in her hand squatted down pretending to be digging and the others took a position one behind the other similar to the hawk catching the chicks. They walked up to the girl digging and engaged in the following conversation:

"What are you digging?"
"Digging a hole."
"What is it for?"
"My pot for to boil."
"What will you heat?"
"Some water and broth."
"How use the water?"
"I'll wash some cloth."
"What will you make?"
"I'll make a bag."
"And what put in it?"
"A knife and a rag."
"What is the knife for?"
"To kill your lambs."
"What have they done?"
"They've eaten my yams."
"How high were they?"
"About so high."
"Oh, that isn't high."
"As high as the sky."

"What is your name?"
"My name is Grab, what is your name?"
"My name is Turn."
"Turn once for me."

They all walked around in a circle and as they turned they sang:

"We turn about once,
Or twice I declare,
And she may grab,
But we don't care."

"Can't you grab once for us?"
"Yes, but what I grab I keep."

She then ran to "grab" one of the "lambs" but they kept behind the front girl just as the boys did in the hawk catching the chicks. After awhile however, they were all caught.

Why this game is called "cow's tail" and the girls called "lambs," we do not know. We asked the girls why and their answer was, "There is no reason."

The girls were panting with the running before they were all caught and we suggested that they rest awhile, but instead the little leader called out:

"Let out the doves."

One of the larger girls took hold of the hands of two of the smaller, one of whom represented a dove and the other a hawk. The hawk stood behind her and the dove in front.

She threw the dove away as she might pitch a bird into the air, and as the child ran it waved its arms as though they were wings. She threw the hawk in the same way, and it followed the dove.

She then clapped her hands as the Chinese do to bring their pet birds to them, and the dove if not caught, returned to the cage. This is a very pretty game for little children.

By this time the girls were all rested and our little friend said:

"Seek for gold."

Three or four of the girls gathered up some pebbles, squatted down in a group and scattered them as they would a lot of jackstones. Then one drew her finger between two of the stones and snapped one against the other. If she hit it the two were taken up and put aside.

She then drew her finger between two more and snapped them.

If she missed, another girl took up what were left, scattered them, snapped them, took them up, and so on until one or another got the most of the pebbles and thus won the game. Our little friend was reminded of another and she called out:

"The cow's eye."

Immediately the girls all sat down in a ring and put their feet together in the centre. Then one of their number repeated the following rhyme, tapping a foot with each accented syllable.

One, two, three, and an old cow's eye,
When a cow's eye's blind she'll surely die.
A piece of skin and a melon too,
If you have money I'll sell to you,
But if you're without,
I'll put you out.

The foot on which her finger happened to rest when she said "out" was excluded from the ring. Again she repeated the rhyme excluding a foot with each repetition till all but one were out.

Up to this point all the children were in a nervous quiver waiting to see which foot would be left, but now the fun began, for they took the shoe off and every one slapped that unfortunate foot. This was done with good-natured vigor but without intention to hurt. It was amusing to see the children squirm as they neared the end of the game.

This game finished, the little girl called out:

"Pat your hands and knees."

The girls sat down in pairs and, after the style of "Bean Porridge Hot," clapped hands to the following rhyme:

Pat your hands and knees,
On January first,
The old lady likes to go a sightseeing most.
Pat your hands and knees,
On February second,
The old lady likes a piece of candy it is reckoned.
Pat your hands and knees,
On March the third,
The old lady likes a Canton pipe I have heard.
Pat your hands and knees,
On April fourth,
The old lady likes bony fish from the north.
Pat your hands and knees,
The fifth of May,
The old lady likes sweet potatoes every day.
Pat your hands and knees,
The sixth of June,
The old lady eats fat pork with a spoon.
Pat your hands and knees,
The seventh of July,
The old lady likes to eat a fat chicken pie.
Pat your hands and knees,
On August eight,
The old lady likes to see the lotus flowers straight.
Pat your hands and knees,
September nine,
The old lady likes to drink good hot wine.
Pat your hands and knees,
October ten,

The old lady, you and I, may meet hope again.

This we afterwards discovered is very widely known throughout the north of China.

The foregoing are a few of the games played by the children in Peking. In that one city we have collected more than seventy-five different games, and have no reason to believe we have secured even a small proportion of what are played there. Games played in Central and South China are different, partly because of climatic conditions, partly because of the character of the people. There, as here, the games of children are but reproductions of the employments of their parents. They play at farming, carpentry, house-keeping, storekeeping, or whatever employments their parents happen to be engaged in. Indeed, in addition to the games common to a larger part of the country, there are many which are local, and depend upon the employment of the parents or the people.

THE TOYS CHILDREN PLAY WITH

One day while sitting at table, with our little girl, nineteen months old, on her mother's knee near by, we picked up her rubber doll and began to whip it violently. The child first looked frightened, then severe, then burst into tears and plead with her mother not to "let papa whip dolly."

Few people realize how much toys become a part of the life of the children who play with them. They are often looked upon as nothing more than "playthings for children." This is a very narrow view of their uses and relationships. There is a philosophy underlying the production of toys as old as the world and as broad as life, a philosophy which, until recent years, has been little studied and cultivated.

Playthings are as necessary a constituent of human life as food or medicine, and contribute in a like manner to the health and development of the race. Like the science of cooking and healing, the business of toy-making has been driven by the stern teacher, necessity, to a rapid self-development for the general good of the little men and women in whose interests they are made.

They are the tools with which children ply their trades; the instruments with which they carry on their professions; the goods which they buy and sell in their business, and the paraphernalia with which they conduct their toy society. They are more than this. They are the animals which serve them, the associates who entertain them, the children who comfort them and bring joy to the mimic home.

Toys are nature's first teachers. The child with his little shovels, spades and hoes, learns his first lessons in agriculture; with his hammer and nails, he gets his first lessons in the various trades; and the bias of the life of many a child of larger growth has come from the toys with which he played. Into his flower garden the father of Linnaeus introduced his son during his infancy, and "this little garden undoubtedly created that taste in the child which afterwards made him the first botanist and naturalist of his age, if not of his race."

No experiments in any chemical laboratory will excite more wonder or be carried on with more interest, than those which the boy performs with his pipe and basin of soapy water. The little girl's mud pies and other sham confectionery furnish her first lessons in the art of preparing food. Her toy dinners and playhouse teas offer her the first experiences in the entertainment of guests. With her dolls, the domestic relations and affections.

No science has ever originated and been carried to any degree of perfection in Asia. There is no reason why this statement should cause the noses of Europeans and Americans to twitch in derision and pride, for there is another fact equally momentous in favor of the Asiatics,--viz., no religion that originated outside of Asia has ever been carried to any degree of perfection.

The above facts will indicate that we need not hope to find the business of toy-making, or the science of child-education in a very advanced state in China--the most Asiatic country of Asia. Child's play and toy-making have been organized into a business and a science in Europe, as astronomy, which had been studied so long in Asia, was developed into a science by the Greeks. And so we find that what is taught in the kindergarten of the West is learned in the streets of the East; and the toys which are manufactured in great Occidental business establishments, are made by poor women in Oriental homes, and the same mistakes are made by the one as by the other.

The same whistle by which the cock crows, enables the dog to bark, the baby to cry, the horse to neigh, the sheep to bleat and the cow to low, just as in our own rubber goods. The same end is accomplished in the one case as in the other. The two, three or twenty cash doll does for the Chinese girl what the two, three or twenty dollar one does for her antipodal sister,--develops the instinct of motherhood, besides standing a greater amount of rough handling. Nevertheless it usually comes to the same deplorable end, departing this world, bereft of its arms and legs, without going through the tedious process of a surgical operation.

Chinese toys are less varied, less complicated, less true to the original, and less expensive than those of the West,--more perhaps like the toys of a century or two ago. Nevertheless they are toys, and in the hands of boys and girls, the drum goes "rub-a-dub," the horn "toots," and the whistle squeaks. The "gingham dog and calico cat," besides a score of other animals more nearly related to the soil of their native place--being made of clay--express themselves in the language of the particular whistle which happens to have been placed within them. All this is to the entire satisfaction of "little Miss Muffet" and "little boy Blue," just as they do in other lands.

When the children grow older they have tops to spin that whistle as good a whistle, and buzzers to buzz that buzz as good a buzz, and music balls to roll, and music carts to pull, that emit sounds as much to their satisfaction, as anything that ministered to the childish tastes of our grandfathers; and these become as much a part of their business and their life as if they were living, talking beings. Furthermore, their dolls are as much their children as they themselves are the offspring of their parents.

Chinese toys embrace only those which involve no intricate scientific principles. The music boxes of the West are unknown in China except as they are imported. The Chinese know nothing about dolls which open and shut their eyes, simple as this principle is, nor of toys which are self-propelling by some mysterious spring secreted within, because, forsooth, they know nothing about making the spring.

There are some principles, however, which, though they may not understand, they are nevertheless able to utilize; such, for instance, as the expansion of air by heat, and the creation of air currents. This principle is utilized in lanterns. In the top of these is a paper wheel attached to a cross-bar on the ends of which are suspended paper men and women together with animals of all kinds making a very interesting merry-go-round. These lantern-figures correspond to the sawyers, borers, blacksmiths, washers and others which twenty or more years ago were on top of the stove of every corner grocery or country post-office.

When we began the study of Chinese toys our first move was to call in a Chinese friend whom we thought we could trust, and who could buy toys at a very reasonable rate, and sent him out to purchase specimens of every variety of toys he could find in the city of Peking. We ordered him the first day to buy nothing but rattles, because the rattle is the first toy that attracts the attention of the child.

In the evening Mr. Hsin returned with a good-sized basket full of rattles. Some were tin in the form of small cylinders, with handles in which were small pebbles: others were shaped like pails; and others like cooking pots and pans.

Some of the most attractive were hollow wood balls, baskets, pails and bottles, gorgeously painted, with long handles, necks, or bails. The paint was soon transferred from the face of the toy to that of the first child that happened to play with it, which child was of course, our own little girl.

The most common rattles representing various kinds of fowls and animals known and unknown are made of clay. Others are in the form of fat little priests that make one think of Santa Claus, or little roly-poly children that look like the little folks who play with them.

As the child grows larger the favorite rattle is a drum-shaped piece of bamboo or other wood, with skin--not infrequently fish skin, stretched over the two ends, and a long handle attached. On the sides are two stout strings with beads on the ends, which, when the rattle is turned in the hand, strike on the drum heads. These rattles of brass or tin as well as bamboo, are in imitation of those carried by street hawkers.

We said to Mr. Hsin, "Foreigners say the Chinese do not have dolls, how is that?"

"They have lots of them," he answered in the stereotyped way.

"Then to-morrow buy samples of all the dolls you can find."

"All?" he asked with some surprise.

"Yes, all. We want to know just what kind of dolls they have."

The next evening Mr. Hsin came in with an immense load of dolls. He had large, small, and middle sized rag dolls, on which the nose was sewed, the ears pasted, and the eyes and other features painted. They were rude, but as interesting to children as other more natural and more expensive ones, as we discovered by giving one of them to our little girl. In not a few instances Western children have become much more firmly attached to their Chinese cloth dolls than any that can be found for them in America or Europe.

He had a number of others both large and small with paper mache heads, leather bodies, and clay arms and legs. The body was like a bellows in which a reed whistle was placed, that enabled the baby to cry in the same tone as the toy dog barks or the cock crows. They had "real hair" in spots on their head similar to those on the child, and they were dressed in the same kind of clothing as that used on the baby in summer-time, viz., a chest-protector and a pair of shoes or trousers.

Mr. Hsin then took out a small package in which was wrapped a half-dozen or more "little people," as they are called, by the Chinese, with paper heads, hands and feet, exquisitely painted, and their clothing of the finest silk. Attached to the head of each was a silk string by which the "little people" are hung upon the wall as a decoration.

"But what are these, Mr. Hsin?" we asked. "These are not dolls."

"No," he answered, "these are cloth animals. The children play with these at the same time they play with dolls."

He had gone beyond our instructions. He had brought us a large collection of camels made of cloth the color of the camel's skin, with little bunches of hair on the head, neck, hump and the joints of the legs, similar to those on the camel when it is shedding its coat in the springtime. He had elephants made of a grayish kind of cloth on which were harnesses similar to those supposed to be necessary for those animals. He had bears with bits of hair on neck and tail and a leading string in the nose; horses painted with spots of white and red, matched only by the most remarkable animals in a circus; monkeys with black beads for eyes, and long tails; lions, tigers, and leopards, with large, savage, black, glass eyes, with manes or tails suited to each, and properly crooked by a wire extending to the tip. And finally he laid the bogi-boo, a nondescript with a head on each end much like the head of a lion or tiger. When not used as a plaything, this served the purpose of a pillow.

"Do the Chinese have no other kinds of toy animals?" we inquired.

"Yes," he answered, "I'll bring them to-morrow."

The following evening he brought us a collection of clay toys too extensive to enumerate. There were horses, cows, camels, mules, deer, and a host of others the original of which has never been found except in the imagination of the people. He had women riding donkeys followed by drivers, men riding horses and shooting or throwing a spear at a fleeing tiger, and women with babies in their arms while grandmother amused them with rattles, and father lay near by smoking an opium pipe.

From the bottom of his basket he brought forth a nuber of small packages.

"What are in those?"

"These are clay insects."

They were among the best clay work we have seen in China. There were tumble-bugs, grasshoppers, large beetles, mantis, praying mantis, toads and scorpions, together with others never seen outside of China, and some never seen at all, the legs and feelers all being made of wire.

In another package he had a dozen dancing dolls. They were made of clay, were an inch and a half long, dressed with paper, and had small wires protruding the sixteenth of an inch below the bottom of the skirt. He put them all on a brass tray, the edge of which he struck with a small stick to make it vibrate, thus causing the dancers to turn round and round in every direction.

The next package contained a number of clay beggars. Two were fighting, one about to smash his clay pot over the other's head: another had his pot on his head for a lark, a third was eating from his, while others were carrying theirs in their hand. One had a sore leg to which he called attention with open mouth and pain expressed in every feature.

From another package he brought out a number of jumping jacks, imitations as it seemed of things Japanese. There were monkey acrobats made of clay, wire and skin, fastened to a small slip of bamboo. A doll fastened to a stick, with cymbals in its hands would clash the cymbals, when its queue was pulled. Finally there was a large dragon which satisfied its raging appetite by feeding upon two or three little clay men specially prepared for his consumption.

But, perhaps, among the most interesting of his toys were his clay whistles. Some of these burnt or sun-dried toys were hollow and in the shape of birds, beasts and insects. When blown into, they would emit the shrillest kind of a whistle. In others a reed whistle had been placed similar to those in the dolls, and these usually had a bellows to blow them. Whether cock or hen, dog or child, they all crowed, barked, cackled, or cried in the self-same tone.

"What will you get to-morrow?"

"Drums, knives, and tops," said Mr. Hsin. He was being paid by the day for spending our money, and so had his plans well laid.

The following evening he brought a large collection of toy drums, some of which were in the shape of a barrel, both in their length and in being bulged out at the middle. On the ends were painted gay pictures of men and women clad in battle-array or festive garments, making the drum a work of art as well as an instrument of torture to those who are disturbed by noises about the house.

He had large knives covered with bright paint which could easily be washed off, and tridents, with loose plates or cymbals, which make a noise to frighten the enemy.

The tops Mr. Hsin had collected were by far the most interesting. Chinese tops are second to none made. They are simple, being made of bamboo, are spun with a string, and when properly operated emit a shrill whistle.

The ice top, without a stem, and simply a block of wood in shape of a top, is spun with a string, but is kept going by whipping.

Another toy which foreigners call a top is entirely different from anything we see in the West. The Chinese call it a K'ung chung, while the top is called t'o lo. It is constructed of two pieces of bamboo, each of which is made like a top, and then joined by a carefully turned axle, each end being of equal weight, and looking not unlike the wheels of a cart. It is then spun by a string, which is wound once around the axle and attached to two sticks. A good performer is able to spin it in a great variety of ways, tossing it under and over his foot, spinning it with the sticks behind him, and at times throwing it up into the air twenty or thirty feet and catching it as it comes down. The principle upon which it is operated is the quick jerking of one of the sticks while the other is allowed to be loose.

"To-morrow," said Mr. Hsin, as he ceased spinning the top, "I will get you some toy carts."