who possess them, or who may be provided from the stock of paper-cut flowers by the teacher, and a flag here and there would not be out of place.

Game 30. Oxford and Cambridge.

The game is one of pure amusement. It is introduced by reference to boats and boating. In one part of the room a group of children are engaged in paper-cutting and folding, viz., in the making of paper boats, they being designated the "boat builders," and their premises the "boatyard." The remainder of the children are arranged in two parallel lines several yards apart, and seated so that the children of one line face those of the other. Some few feet within the ranks of children, boundary lines of chalk are drawn upon the floor. Different children are provided with paper-made boats, to the stems and sterns of which strings are attached. With these boats it is the children's purpose to hold contentions. The children of one line draw the boats across the open space by means of one of the attached strings, viz., from within one boundary line to within the other, the boat first passing the latter line being declared victor. All boats are of course started simultaneously. Many of the boats will be overturned during their passage. Such a catastrophe is known as a wreck, and all boats which thus unfortunately capsize, are returned and bound to make a new start. Thus the game proceeds until several boats succeed in crossing the space without misfortune. It depends greatly on the construction of the boats whether or not much difficulty is experienced, so in order to maintain a keen interest in the game, obstructions are created as soon as the trans-journeys appear to be easily and quickly accomplished. These obstructions are compared to rocks, sandbanks, and other obstacles to navigation, and here consist of lines stretched longi. tudinally along the floor. The rising of the paper boats over the lines of string may, for purposes of illustration, be compared to boats riding the

waves.

The children who take part in this game wear the distinctive colours of dark blue and light blue.

Game 31. The shadow on the wall.

Although gaslight is not absolutely necessary, the exercises of this game would be more effectively practised, if sunlight were excluded and substituted by gas and candle flame. The success of the game depends upon getting well-defined shadows of forms on a comparatively light background. It is for the purpose of having the shadows more clearly defined, that the use of artificial light is recommended. A single flame only is preferable, and the object or form to be outlined, and the surface on which the shadow is to be cast, should hold their relative positions as near to each other as is convenient, in order to minimize the size and intensity of penumbræ, which without care would prove troublesome obstacles to the success of the game. The objects and forms to be pourtrayed may consist of the smaller school utensils with geometrical forms in wood or cardboard, and such symmetrical designs as may have been executed during some previous paper-folding and paper-cutting occupation." A slate-board would be a suitable ground.

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During the practice of the game, children work in pairs, viz., one holding the object in the desired position, and the other outlining in chalk the shadow cast on the board.

Not being a game of skill, the above is one in which the younger children only may be allowed to participate.

Game 32. The shadow on the blind.

Again, skill is no qualification, and children should take part in the game merely for the sake of the amusement which it creates.

For the complete success of the game, a semi-darkened room is a necessity. The room should then be divided by a white sheet or curtain stretching from side to side, and artificially lighted on one side of the curtain only.

These preliminaries have been arranged beforehand, the class is divided into two sections, these being located one on each side of the curtain. Children on the illuminated side pass in turn between the light and the curtain, and those on the other side recognise them by the forms of their shadows.

The introduction of fantastic forms and various comicalities of position and motion may follow; indeed, an occasional amateur magic lantern entertainment may be given, and if not very successful, it would be no less appreciated by the infants on that account.

Game 33. See-saw.

In this game all the children of the school may take part simultaneously; in fact, the progress of any other work that may be going on would be positively impeded by the march and song, if such an arrangement were not adopted. It is another application of the musical drill, now so much and so satisfactorily practised in many infants' schools.

The game is commenced by arranging the children in two or four parallel lines, the smaller children being in front and the taller ones behind. Each child clasps the hand of its neighbour on each side, and the joined hands of the children of each line are raised and lowered simultaneously with the bodies-but the front and rear ranks in alternate order, i.e., those of the front row or rows will rise, while those behind fall, and vice versa— keeping time to the popular see-saw waltz, or other substitute, played by the teacher, and sung by the children.

Following this, the children are arranged in single file; if necessary, three or four deep, and facing to the right or left, i.e., as for marching. The drill is continued by the odd and even members of each line swaying their bodies or nodding their heads to the right and left alternately, in time to the music which is being repeated.

Counter-marching, and marching in concentric rings are successively exercised in, the rings, like the lines, moving in opposite directions.

A great variety of drill is practicable, the above forms being given as examples. Clever organization is required to prevent confusion, and work an expeditious change from one form of drill to another.

A story of light.

STORIES.

I have neither legs nor wings, and yet I can travel quicker than any creature that ever lived. I have never been seen, nor have I ever seen anybody or anything, yet if I did not exist all creatures would be blind. I am large enough to cover half the whole earth at once, and yet I can pass through keyholes and the smallest cracks without hurting myself. They may let me live within prison wall, or they may shut me out, but all the bolts and bars in the world couldn't fasten me in. I am always about my own business, and am never found listening in dark corners or peeping round them, and yet I help most people to get on with their business better, quicker, and more comfortably than they could do without me. am here, there, and everywhere, constantly moving about, and yet I never make the least noise. Without me flowers would lose their colours, and the whole world would be devoid of beauty. Some clever men have professed to pull me to pieces, and to discover in me colours as plentiful and beautiful as those of the rainbow, yet they have never been able to preserve any part of me. I am both old and young, useful and beautiful. Now what is my name, and where was I born?

Heat.

I

I am everybody's friend and many people's enemy. If my influences are too warm I cause displeasure, while on the other hand, if they are not warm enough I cause discomfort. I am never cold, although I wear no clothes and eat no food. I am never idle, and never still, yet my movements cannot be seen. I can make my way through a stone wall, and creep within a solid bar of iron. I can exist in water without being drowned, although I am unable to swim. I make the perspiration run down the working man's forehead. I turn solids into liquids, and liquids into gases. The snows and ice of winter weep and vanish at my approach. The flowers welcome me with their odoriferous blooms. The tea-kettle sings under my genial influence, and the waters within bubble and burst when I am most vigorous. Without me the fire would refuse to burn, the water would refuse to boil, the steam engine would cease its puffing and snorting, the rivers would cease to flow, the ocean would be converted into one solid immovable and useless mass, vegetation would wither and decay, and the animals of creation would shiver and die. Now what am I?

Frost.

Now let me give you my experience. I am only an occasional visitor, but when I come to you I am always very active. Winter is my favourite season, and the night I love much better than the day. Many of my deeds are evil, although I am not altogether useless. I am a silent worker and a keen biter. I pinch the ears and noses of boys and girls as well as of upgrown men and women, often causing great pain, and sometimes even drawing blood. I create a crust on the ponds and rivers. I frequently

cause the breaking of jugs and bottles, and the bursting of pipes and cisterns. I creep down to the roots of trees and sometimes take away their lives. I nip the early buds, and rob the gardener of his promised harvest. You may have seen fantastic traces on the window panes which by me have been produced. People are very fond of shutting me out in the cold, and leaving me to fight my own battles. I drive many on to the hearth, and cause the fingers of others to seek refuge in gloves, muffs, or pockets. The warm sun is my natural enemy, and often have I to flee before his presence. Fires I abominate, their influences always overpower me. I can stiffen the sheets of a damp bed, but I could never exist in the blankets between which children are snugly slumbering.

Wind.

man.

I am a giant of strength and activity, and both the friend and the enemy of I find my way over the tops of the highest mountains, and through the vales and low-lying plains. I enter woods and forests, and the trees bow and tremble in my presence. I am generally a noisy fellow, and often announce my existence with an angry roar. When I am noisiest I am fiercest, and travel faster than the fastest race-horse. At such times I pull trees up by their roots, or snap them close to the ground; I have even removed houses and other buildings. At other times I am calmer, and then I am not at all dangerous, although all the ropes in the world couldn't bind me fast. I am subject to death, but I have the power to take up my life again. Boys have never seen me, and yet they like me in my gentler moments, and often require me to assist them in their play. Fire.

I am both a master and a servant. I do a great deal of good and a great deal of harm. I live in most houses, and when kept in my proper place I am very useful. I help the cook to make the dinner, and the laundress to wash the clothes. I neither eat nor drink, and yet I must be fed or I should die. I am full of light, yet I cannot see, and I am full of warmth which I cannot feel. People sometimes crowd round me and I never grumble, but were they to touch me I should punish them severely. I live outside as well as inside houses. I help to drive the machinery in the factory; I assist in propelling the steamer across the ocean. The driver of a railway train couldn't do without me. Sometimes I am so large and fierce that it is dangerous to come near me. I have been known to destroy houses, churches, ships, workshops, and even human beings. When I show my power in this way, people fear me very much. When on an errand of destruction, the wind is my friend and supporter, and water is my enemy and destroyer.

Water.

I am

You have all seen me, and none of you could do without me. found in the earth, the air, and the sea. I have millions of creatures living within me, and millions more would perish if I did not come to their relief. There is not a mountain stream that does not depend entirely upon me for its existence. Noah's ark would never have been heard of

if I had been unknown. Fire cannot burn me, water cannot drown me, the sun cannot dry me, and the wind and lightning cannot destroy me, You may carry me about, but if you let me fall you cannot pick me up again. I often make long journeys, but I never climb over hills and mountains. Sometimes I make people ill, at other times I make ill people well. I am both a preserver and a destroyer of life. The cold may harden me, but it can never soften me. I exist in your tea, I am used in the cleaning of your houses, your persons, and your clothes. I neither live nor die, but I am useful both to the living and the dead.

The tongue.

I live in solitary confinement. I have many brothers and sisters, but I never see them. I am full of life and action. I never eat or drink, and yet I am very fond of good things, such as meats and sweets. I am often very talkative and unruly, and for this children are kept in at school. I take no notice of other people's business, aud yet I am very often interfering with it. I can neither see nor hear, but I am very sensitive to touch. I am a member of all the debating societies and singing classes, and I take a prominent part in all discussions and vocal concerts, and aid in the delivery of sermons, lectures, addresses, and in reading entertainments. Perhaps I am not very pretty, but I have plenty of colour, and my colour is often an index of health. Of course the doctor sometimes calls to see

me.

The hand.

I am a useful member of society, very complicated in structure, yet shapely and handsome to look upon. All you children know me, see me every day, and possess me. Without me you would be very awkward, and conduct yourselves clumsily. I am often known to be mischievous, and for the sake of convenience I am sometimes punished for the offences of others. I have frequently had to suffer pain when children's tongues have transgressed. I help to feed and clothe you, but I never eat and drink myself, although I am present and active at meal-times. I draw music from dead and silent instruments. I transfer thoughts from mind to material, and I am clever in all kinds of manufacture. I busy myself in the factory, the warehouse, the workshop, the saleroom, the office; in fact I accompany men, women, boys, and girls everywhere, and assist them in almost everything they do. I am prettiest when I am clean, for I am sometimes rough and grimy, and have to wash myself in water. I sometimes wear a leathern and at other times a woollen coat; the first is an ornament in all weathers, and the latter is useful in the winter season.

The eye.

I am very small, but full of beauty and wonder. I have no legs, but without me man walks slowly, timidly, and dangerously. I am fond of light, and love not darkness. To me the day is pleasure and the night is rest. I live in a box, and never leave it throughout my whole life. I rest upon a soft bed, and am darkened in my repose by a natural coverlet. I cannot tolerate any dirt upon my skin, and am consequently washed