Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 November 1891 — A Game Without a Name. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A Game Without a Name.

Here is it new game for you. It can be played only in a family where there are several children and some grown-up person who knew all the children when they were little. This person may be the mother. If 1 she is busy an aunt will do very well.' This is the way the game was "played in one family. An aunt and live children played' it. The aunt was called Aunt Addie. Tho names of the children were Minnie, Alice, Jimmie, Bobby and- Archie. The aunt sat by the window and' embroidered while she played, and the children stood in a row-before hen “One of you,” said- Aunt Addle, “when you were a baby, used to 'Cry when- you heard slow, sad tunes like the ‘Old Hundred’ and' ‘Old Dog Tray..’ When we sang somethinglively, like ‘Captain Jinks,’ you would laugh. Now, which one was it?” “Bobby,” shouted two children) “that’s the kind he likes now.” “That was an easy one,” said tlie aunt; “here is another; One of you hated to wear hats. You would cry whenever one was put on, ami after; you had ridden a little way in your carriage you would pull It off 1 and throw it away. The nurse would pick it up when she saw It, but sometimes she did not see it, and several hats and caps were lost. Which of you was it?” “Jimmy’s always losing his things,” said Minnie. “I guess it was Jimmy." “No,” said the aunt; “it is your turn for the other guess, Jimmy. Only twQgucsset each time.” “It was Minnie,” said Jimmy. “No,” said Aunt Addie; “Now here is another. There was one of you—only one-—who was always good and only cried when he felt sick.” “Archie,” guessed all the children at once. And they were right. These children and the aunt played a long time that day, but I have told you enough to show you how. Try It and see If you can think of a name for the new game.

Porpo'sen. * The gregarious porpoise, or Phociena communis, is one of the most jolly and careless fishes in the sea. He is hardly ever found alone, but delights to join great roaming parties, and scour the fishing coasts, running into all the coves and bays along the route and sometimes entering the mouths of tidal rivers, in pursuit of other fishes. But even when a great herd of porpoises is In pursuit of a “school” of capelan, herring, tomcod, sea trout, or other, fish, it will stop Its march to play. The gregarious porpoise Is known by various names along the coast of Labrador, Newfoundland, the maritime provinces of Canada and New England. The best known, of these names are puffing-pigs, herring hogs, sea hogs, and round-heads. The nor poise is from four to six feet long, with a thick round body, and black, shining, hairless skin. When he is above water for some time, with the hot sun shining upon him, his bare hide fairly glistens with oil, and if you pass to leeward of him in a boat you catch his strong oily smell. Like the whale, he is obliged to rise to the surface regularly to breathe,, and he sends his breath through a blow-hole situated on the top of his head. When breathing through this curious funnel he makes a puffing, labored sort of noise, which accounts for one of his names. If you should, see him alone on a fine day in some little oove, he would look exactly like a big black pot, turned bottom up, bobbing up and down. He has from forty to fifty teeth, a wide mouth, and an astonishing stomach. But he has the smallest ear to be found, I suppose, on any beast of his size. It is no bigger than a pinhole, and is placed just about an inch behind his eye. But small as it is, no fish that swims the sea has sharper hearing, and none will more quickly take the alarm at the slightest touch.—Harper’s Young People. Our Nutting Party. . It was a crisp morning. The sun was shining brightly as we started on our nutting expedition. Our party consisted of my brother Ted, his , friend Bob White (the two were inseparable companions and had been nicknamed Damon and Pythias,) Daisy and Boss Jones, Polly White and myself. The rattle of the spring wagon and

the chuckle of Frisby; our faithful servant and driver, helped to make the party merrier than grigs, and the trip was made with much hilarity and many jokes. How happy' all - nature seemedt" The birds chirped in the trees, t.he little brown squirrel who sat on t&g log chattering to hlm§eij looked fit us curiously, and t-hon scampered away wliCtt wo got too close, After going up and down hill several times, passing a descried satt-El!! and several farm-houses, we arrived at our de£ ttrtaiion and found to our delight that tile chestnut burrs had been opeued by the frost or Ul6 hlgiij hefoie. Frisby and the boys secured the horseft, Sod then climbed the chestnut trees, and shook the brown beauties down on onr heads. With cries of delight we scrambled for them, each one trying to get her basket tilled first.

When we had gathered nuts until ire were tired, the boys went for milk to a neighboring farm-house, while we girls spread the lunch. The work In the open air had made us hungry, and all did ample justice to the meal. Sandwiches, cake, pie, and apples disappeared as if by magic. The boys then started to search for shellbarks. After a while we heard shouting for us to crane on, for they had found bushels on the trees. So we started with our baskets and on tho way encountered a cow, which was a little frisky and scared several of the girls, but did us no harm. When we arrived at the trees we did not find busheis, but all we wanted. We gathered uastll we were tired, after which we had a gamo of hide and seek, “to rest upy" as one of the boys cheerfully remarked. It warn- hard to start) for home;- bat we had' t»do it. On the way one of the girte sug-gested't-liiiij we should 1 sing, and Fred 1 lifted llis- voice in “Annie Rooney.” ,Polly quiettjtf handed him a chestnut, and the singing instantly ceased. After riding in silence for some distance we all united our voices-in singing “Home, Sweet Home," as we drove down the mountain Into the volley and saw the lights twinkling iu

the different houses. We wero a tired bat jolly crowd, I can assure you. This winter, as we sit around the fire eating our nuts, we will recall with pleasure “Our Nutting Party." Eddjio came walking in one morning with a very solemn face and a large rent in his little kilt skirt, and, sidling up to his mother, he asked, “Mamma, will you please glue my dress together?”