Wiggle-Waggle

Here is a poor widow who is left alone,And all her children married and gone;Come choose the east, come choose the west,Come choose the one you love the best.Now since you’ve got married, I wish you joy,Every year a girl and boy;Love one another like sister and brother,I pray you couple come kiss together.

Here is a poor widow who is left alone,And all her children married and gone;Come choose the east, come choose the west,Come choose the one you love the best.

Now since you’ve got married, I wish you joy,Every year a girl and boy;Love one another like sister and brother,I pray you couple come kiss together.

—Perth (Rev. W. Gregor).

III.

One poor widow was left alone,Daughter, daughter, marry at home;Choose the worst, or choose the best,Choose the young gentleman you love best.Now you are married, I wish you joy,Father and mother, you must obey,Love one another like sister and brother,And now, young couple, come kiss together.

One poor widow was left alone,Daughter, daughter, marry at home;Choose the worst, or choose the best,Choose the young gentleman you love best.

Now you are married, I wish you joy,Father and mother, you must obey,Love one another like sister and brother,And now, young couple, come kiss together.

—Bexley Heath (Miss Morris.)

IV.

One poor widow is left all alone, all alone, all alone,Choose the worst, and choose the best,And choose the one that you like best.Now she’s married I wish her joy,Her father and mother she must obey,Love one another like sisters and brothers,And now it’s time to go away.

One poor widow is left all alone, all alone, all alone,Choose the worst, and choose the best,And choose the one that you like best.

Now she’s married I wish her joy,Her father and mother she must obey,Love one another like sisters and brothers,And now it’s time to go away.

—Suffolk County Folk-lore, p. 67.

One poor widow was left alone,She had but one daughter to marry alone;Come choose the worst, come choose the best,Come choose the young girl that you like best.

—Maxey, Northants (Rev. W. D. Sweeting).

VI.

Here’s a poor widow she’s left alone,She has got nothing to marry upon;Come choose to the east, come choose to the west,Come choose the one that you love best.Now they’re married, we wish them joy,Every year a girl and a boy;Seven years old, seven years to come,Now kiss the couple, and that’s well done.

Here’s a poor widow she’s left alone,She has got nothing to marry upon;Come choose to the east, come choose to the west,Come choose the one that you love best.

Now they’re married, we wish them joy,Every year a girl and a boy;Seven years old, seven years to come,Now kiss the couple, and that’s well done.

—Auchterarder, N.B. (Miss E. S. Haldane).

(b) The children form a ring by joining hands. One player stands in the centre. The ring dance round singing the first verse; the widow then chooses one player from the ring, who goes into the centre with her, and the ring dances round singing the second part. The one first in the centre then joins the ring, and the second player becomes the widow and chooses in her turn.

This belongs to the marriage group ofKiss in the Ringgames. Northall (English Folk Rhymes, p. 374), gives a version similar to the above.

See “Kiss in the Ring,” “Poor Widow,” “Sally Water,” “Silly Young Man.”

The players sit round a table under the presidency of a “Buck.” Each person has his fingers clenched, and the thumb extended. Buck from time to time calls out as suits his fancy: “Buck says, Thumbs up!” or, “Buck says, Thumbs down!” or, “Wiggle-waggle!” If he says “Thumbs up!” he places both hands on the table, with the thumbs sticking straight up. If “Thumbs down!” he rests his thumbs on the table with his hands up. If “Wiggle-waggle!” he places his hands as in “Thumbs up!” but wags his thumbs nimbly. Everybody at the table has to follow the word of command on the instant, and any who fail to do so are liable to a forfeit.—Evan’sLeicestershire Words.

See “Horns.”

“Shoeing the Wild Boar,” a game in which the player sits cross-legged on a beam or pole, each of the extremities of which is placed or swung in the eyes of a rope suspended from the back tree of an outhouse. The person uses a switch, as if in the act of whipping up a horse; when being thus unsteadily mounted, he is most apt to lose his balance. If he retains it, he is victor over those who fail.—Teviotdale (Jamieson).

“All the Wild Birds in the Air,” the name of a game in which one acts the dam of a number of birds, who gives distinct names of birds, such as are generally known to all that are engaged in the sport. The person who opposes tries to guess the name of each individual. When he errs he is subject to a stroke on the back. When he guesses right he carries away on his back that bird, which is subjected to a blow from each of the rest. When he has discovered and carried off the whole, he has gained the game.—Jamieson. Jamieson adds that this sport seems only to be retained in Abernethy, Perthshire; and it is probable, from the antiquity of the place, that it is very ancient.

See “All the Birds in the Air,” “Fool, Fool.”

Willie, Willie Wastell,I am on your castle,A’ the dogs in the tounWinna pu’ Willie doun.Like Willie, Willie Wastel,I am in my castelA’ the dogs in the tounDare not ding me doun.

Willie, Willie Wastell,I am on your castle,A’ the dogs in the tounWinna pu’ Willie doun.

Like Willie, Willie Wastel,I am in my castelA’ the dogs in the tounDare not ding me doun.

—Jamieson.

A writer in theGentlemen’s Magazinefor 1822, Part I. p. 401, says that the old distich—

“Willy, Willy Waeshale!Keep off my castle,”

used in the North in the game of limbo, contains the true etymon of the adjective “Willy.”

The same game as “Tom Tiddler’s Ground.” It is played in the same way. Jamieson says the second rhyme given shows that the rhyme was formerly repeated by the player holding the castle, and not, as now, by the opposing players.

See “King of the Castle,” “Tom Tiddler’s Ground.”

[Play]

Tune Wind up the Bush FaggotNote.—(1)The simplicity of time and nodottednotes, alsochangeof key for2⁄4music.(2)The game unites common and triple time very successfully.(3)Notwithstanding the injunction it is bestnotto wind up tootight.—Essex (Miss Dendy).

—Essex (Miss Dendy).

In the Essex game all the players join hands and form a long line. They should stand in sizes, the tallest should bethe first, and should stand quite still. All the rest walk round this tallest one, singing—

Wind up the bush faggot, and wind it up tight,Wind it all day and again at night,

to the first part of the tune given—that in three-eight time. This is to be repeated until all the players are wound round the centre or tallest player, in a tight coil. Then they all sing—

Stir up the dumplings, the pot boils over,

to the second part of the tune in 2-4 time. This is repeated, all jumping simultaneously to the changed time, until there is a general scrimmage, with shrieking and laughter, and a break up. The players should look somewhat like a watch spring.SpringAs soon as the last one is wound up, no matter in what part of the 3-8 time music they may be, they leave off and begin to jump up and down, and sing to the 2-4 music.—Essex (Miss Dendy).

This game is called “Wind up the Watch” in Wolstanton, North Staffordshire Potteries, and is played in the same manner. The words are only, “Wind up the Watch,” and are said. When all the players are wound up they begin to unwind, saying, “Unwind the Watch.”—Miss Bush. Called “Wind up Jack” in Shropshire. It is the closing game of any playtime, and was played before “breaking-up” at a boys’ school at Shrewsbury, 1850-56. The players form a line hand in hand, the tallest at one end, who stands still; the rest walk round and round him or her, saying, “Wind up Jack! Wind up Jack!” (or at Ellesmere, “Roll up the tobacco-box”), till “Jack” is completely imprisoned. They then “jog up and down,” crying, “A bundle o’ rags, a bundle o’ rags!”—Berrington, Ellesmere (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 521).

In Scotland the game is known as “Row-chow-Tobacco;” a long chain of boys hold each other by the hands: they have one standing steadily at one of the extremities, who is called thePin. Round him the rest coil like a watch chain round the cylinder, till the act of winding is completed. A clamorousnoise succeeds, in which the cry Row-chow-Tobacco prevails; after giving and receiving thefraternal hug, they disperse, and afterwards renew the process. In West of Scotland, it is Rowity-chow-o’-Tobacco, pronounced,rowity-chowity-bacco, and as the first syllable of each word is shouted, another hug or squeeze is given. The game is not so common as formerly. The same game is played in West Cornwall by Sunday-school children at their out-of-door treats, and is called “Roll Tobacco.”

It is known as “The Old Oak Tree” in Lincoln, Kelsey, and Winterton, and is played in the same manner. When coiling round, the children sing—

Round and round the old oak tree:I love the girls and the girls love me.

When they have twisted into a closely-packed crowd they dance up and down, tumbling on each other, crying—

A bottle of rags, a bottle of rags.

In the Anderby and Nottinghamshire version of the game the children often sing—

The old oak tree grows thicker and thicker every Monday morning.

—Miss M. Peacock.

In Mid-Cornwall, in the second week in June, at St. Roche, and in one or two adjacent parishes, a curious dance is performed at the annual “feasts.” It enjoys the rather undignified name of “Snails Creep,” but would be more properly called the “Serpent’s Coil.” The following is scarcely a perfect description of it:—“The young people being all assembled in a large meadow, the village band strikes up a simple but lively air and marches forward, followed by the whole assemblage, leading hand-in-hand (or more closely linked in case of engaged couples), the whole keeping time to the tune with a lively step. The band, or head of the serpent, keeps marching in an ever-narrowing circle, whilst its train of dancing followers becomes coiled round it in circle after circle. It is now that the most interesting part of the dance commences, for the band, taking a sharp turn about, begins to retrace the circle, still followed as before, and a number of young men, with long leafy branches in their hands as standards, direct this counter movement withalmost military precision.”—W. C. Wade (Western Antiquary, April 1881).

From this description of the “Snail Creep,” it is not difficult to arrive at an origin for the game. It has evidently arisen from a custom of performing some religious observance, such as encircling sacred trees or stones, accompanied by song and dance. “On May Day, in Ireland, all the young men and maidens hold hands and dance in a circle round a tree hung with ribbons and garlands, or round a bonfire, moving in curves from right to left, as if imitating the windings of a serpent.”—Wilde (Ancient Cures, Charms, and Usages of Ireland, 106).

It is easy to conjecture how the idea of “winding up a watch,” or “rolling tobacco,” would come in, and be thought the origin of the game from the similarity of action; but it is, I think, evident that this is not the case, from the words “a bundle o’ rags,” the mention of trees, and the “jogging” up and down, to say nothing of the existence of customs in Ireland and Wales similar to that of “Snail Creep.” It is noticeable, too, that some of these games should be connected with trees, and that, in the “Snail Creep” dance the young men should carry branches of trees with them.

See “Bulliheisle,” “Eller Tree.”

The wind, the wind, the wind blows high,The rain comes pouring from the sky;Miss So-and-So says she’d dieFor the sake of the old man’s eye.She is handsome, she is pretty,She is the lass of the golden city;She goes courting one, two, three,Please to tell me who they be.A. B. says he loves her,All the boys are fighting for her,Let the boys say what they willA. B. has got her still.

—Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire (Miss Matthews).

II.

The wind, wind blows, and the rain, rain goes,And the clouds come gathering from the sky!Annie Dingley’svery, very pretty,She is a girl of a noble city;She’s the girl of one, two, three,Pray come tell me whose she’ll be.Johnny Tildersleysays he loves her,All the boys are fighting for her,All the girls think nothing of her.Let the boys say what they will,Johnny Tildersley’sgot her still.He takes her by the lily-white handAnd leads her over the water,Gives her kisses one, two, three,Mrs.Dingley’sdaughter!

Johnny Tildersleysays he loves her,All the boys are fighting for her,All the girls think nothing of her.Let the boys say what they will,Johnny Tildersley’sgot her still.

He takes her by the lily-white handAnd leads her over the water,Gives her kisses one, two, three,Mrs.Dingley’sdaughter!

—Berrington, Eccleshall (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 510).

III.

When the wind blows high,When the wind blows high,The rain comes peltering from the sky.She is handsome, she is pretty,She is the girl in all the city.She [He?] comes courting one, two, three,Pray you tell me who she be.I love her, I love her,All the boys are fighting for her.Let them all say what they will,I shall love her always still.She pulled off her gloves to show me her ring,To-morrow, to-morrow, the wedding bells ring.

—Cowes, Isle of Wight (Miss E. Smith).

IV.

The wind, the wind, the wind blows high,The rain comes falling from the sky.She is handsome, she is pretty,She is the girl of London city.She goes a courting one, two, three,Please will you tell me who is he?[Boy’s name] says he loves her.All the boys are fighting for her.Let the boys do what they will,[Boy’s name] has got her still.He knocks at the knocker and he rings at the bell,Please, Mrs. ——, is your daughter in?She’s neither ways in, she’s neither ways out,She’s in the back parlour walking about.Out she came as white as snow,With a rose in her breast as soft as silk.Please, my dear, will you have a drop of this?No, my dear, I’d rather have a kiss.

—Settle, Yorks. (Rev. W. G. Sykes).

The wind, the wind, the wind blows high,The rain comes sparkling from the sky,[A girl’s name] says she’ll dieFor a lad with a rolling eye.She is handsome, she is pretty,She is the flower of the golden city.She’s got lovers one, two, three.Come, pray, and tell me who they be.[A boy’s name] says he’ll have her,Some one else is waiting for her.Lash the whip and away we goTo see Newcastle races, oh.

—Tyrie (Rev. W. Gregor).

[Another version after—

—— says he’ll have her,

is—

In his bosom he will clap her.]

[Another one after—

She has got lovers one, two, three,

continues—

Wait till [a boy’s name] grows some bigger,He will ride her in his giggie.Lash your whip and away you goTo see Newcastle races, O!]

—Pittulie (Rev. W. Gregor).

[And another version gives—

—— says she’ll dieFor the want of the golden eye.]

—Fochabers (Rev. W. Gregor).

VI.

The wind blows high, and the wind blows low,The snow comes scattering down below.Is not —— very very pretty?She is the flower of one, two, three.Please to tell me who is he.—— says he loves her,All the boys are fighting for her.Let the boys say what they will,—— loves her still.

—Perth (Rev. W. Gregor).

A ring is formed by the children joining hands, one player standing in the centre. When asked, “Please tell me who they be,” the girl in the middle gives the name or initials of a boy in the ring (orvice versa). The ring then sings the rest of the words, and the boy who was named goes into the centre. This is theForest of Deanway of playing. In theShropshire game, at the end of the first verse the girl in the centre beckons one from the ring, or one volunteers to go into the centre; the ring continues singing, and at the end the two children kiss; the first one joins the ring, and the other chooses in his turn. The other versions are played in the same way.

Northall (English Folk-Rhymes, p. 380) gives a version from Warwickshire very similar.

Elworthy (West Somerset Words) says—When a nest is found boys shout, “Let’s play ‘Wink-egg.’” An egg is placed on the ground, and a boy goes back three paces from it, holding a stick in his hand; he then shuts his eyes, and takes two paces towards the egg and strikes a blow on the ground with the stick—the object being to break the egg. If he misses, another tries, and so on until all the eggs are smashed. In Cornwall it is called “Winky-eye,” and is played in the spring. An egg taken from a bird’s nest is placed on the ground, at some distance off—the number of paces having been previously fixed. Blindfolded, one after the other, the players attempt with a stick to hit and break it.—Folk-lore Journal, v. 61.

See “Blind Man’s Stan.”

This game is played by nine children. One is chosen as Mother, seven are chosen for her children, and the other is a Witch. The Mother and Witch stand opposite the seven children. TheMotheradvances and names the children by the days of the week, saying—

Sunday, take care of Monday,Monday, take care of Tuesday,Tuesday, take care of Wednesday,Wednesday, take care of Thursday,Thursday, take care of Friday,Friday, take care of Saturday.Take care the Old Witch does not catch you, and I’ll bring you something nice.

The Mother then goes away, and the Witch advances saying—

Sunday, your mother sent me for your best bonnet, she wants to get one like it for Monday. It is up in the top long drawer, fetch it quick.

Sunday goes away, and the Witch then seizes Saturday and runs off with her.

The Mother re-enters, and names the children again, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, misses Saturday, and says—

Where’s Saturday?

The children all cry and say—

The Old Witch has got her.

This part is then repeated until the Witch has taken all the children and put them in a corner one by one, and stands in front to guard them. The Mother sets out to find the children, she sees the Old Witch, and says to her—

Have you seen my children?

Witch.Yes, I saw them walking down High Street.

Motherthen goes away, does not find them, and comes back asking—

Have you seen my children?

W.Yes, I saw them going to school.

Motherthen goes away, does not find them, and comes back asking—

Have you seen my children?

W.Yes, they are gone to church.

Motheragain goes away, does not find them, and comes back asking—

Have you seen my children?

W.They are having dinner—you can’t see them.

Motheragain goes away, does not find them, and comes back asking—

Have you seen my children?

W.They are in bed.

M.Can’t I go up and see them?

W.Your shoes are too dirty.

M.Can’t I take them off?

W.Your stockings are too dirty.

M.Can’t I take them off?

W.Your feet are too dirty.

M.Can’t I cut them off?

W.The blood would run on the floor.

M.Can’t I wrap them up in a blanket?

W.The fleas would hop out.

M.Can’t I wrap them up in a sheet?

W.The sheet is too white.

M.Can’t I ride up in a carriage?

W.You would break the stairs down.

The children then burst out from behind the Witch and they and the Mother run after her, crying out, “Burn the Old Witch.” They continue chasing the Witch till she is caught, and the child who succeeds in catching her, takes the part of the Witch in the next game.—Dartmouth (Miss Kimber).

The children choose from their party an Old Witch (who is supposed to hide herself) and a Mother. The other players are the daughters, and are called by the names of the week. The Mother says that she is going to market, and will bring home for each the thing that she most wishes for. Upon this they all name something. Then, after telling them upon no account to allow any one to come into the house, she gives herchildren in charge of her eldest daughter, Sunday, and goes away. In a moment, the Witch makes her appearance, and asks to borrow some trifle.

Sunday at first refuses, but, after a short parley, goes into the next room to fetch the required article. In her absence the Witch steals the youngest of the children (Saturday), and runs off with her. Sunday, on her return, seeing that the Witch has left, thinks there must be something wrong, and counts the children, saying, “Monday, Tuesday,” &c., until she comes to Saturday, who is missing. She then pretends to cry, wrings her hands, and sobs out—“Mother will beat me when she comes home.”

On the Mother’s return, she, too, counts the children, and finding Saturday gone, asks Sunday where she is. Sunday answers, “Oh, mother! an Old Witch called, and asked to borrow ——, and, whilst I was fetching it, she ran off with Saturday.” The Mother scolds and beats her, tells her to be more careful in the future, and again sets off for the market. This is repeated until all the children but Sunday have been stolen. Then the Mother and Sunday, hand in hand, go off to search for them. They meet the Old Witch, who has them all crouching down in a line behind her.

Mother.Have you seen my children?

Old Witch.Yes! I think by Eastgate.

The Mother and Sunday retire, as if to go there, but, not finding them, again return to the Witch, who this time sends them to Westgate, then to Southgate and Northgate. At last one of the children pops her head up over the Witch’s shoulder, and cries out, “Here we are, Mother.” Then follows this dialogue:—

M.I see my children, may I go in?

O. W.No! your boots are too dirty.

M.I will take them off.

O. W.Your stockings are too dirty.

M.I will take them off.

O. W.Your feet are too dirty.

M.I will cut them off.

O. W.Then the blood will stream over the floor.

The Mother at this loses patience, and pushes her way in, the Witch trying in vain to keep her out. She, with all her children, then chase the Witch until they catch her; when they pretend to bind her hand and foot, put her on a pile, and burn her, the children fanning the imaginary flames with their pinafores. Sometimes the dialogue after “Here we are, mother,” is omitted, and the Witch is at once chased.—Cornwall (Folk-lore Journal, v. 53-54).

One child represents an old woman who is blind, and has eight children. She says she is going to market, and bids her eldest daughter let no one into the house in her absence. The eldest daughter promises. Then a second old woman knocks, and bribes the daughter, by the promise of a gay ribbon, to give her a light. Whilst the daughter is getting the light, the Witch steals a child and carries it off.

The daughter comes back, and makes all the other children promise not to tell their Mother. The Mother returns and says: “Are all the children safe?”

The daughter says, “Yes.” “Then let me count them.” The children stand in a row, and the Mother counts by placing her hands alternately on their heads. The eldest daughter runs round to the bottom of the row, and so is counted twice.

This is repeated until all the children are gone. At the end the eldest daughter runs away, and the Mother finds all her children gone. Then the Witch asks the old woman to dinner, and the children, who have covered their faces, are served up as beef, mutton, lamb, &c. Finally they throw off their coverings and a general scrimmage takes place.—London (Miss Dendy).

At Deptford the game is played in the same way, and the dialogue is similar to the Cornish version, then follows—

I’ll ride in a pan.That will do.

The Mother gets inside to her children and says to them in turn, “Poke out your tongue, you’re one of mine,” then they run away home.—Deptford (Miss Chase).

In another Deptford version the children are named for days of the week, the Mother goes out, and the Witch calls and asks—

Please you, give me a match.

The minder goes upstairs, and the Witch carries a child off. The Mother comes home, misses child, and asks—

Where’s Monday?She’s gone to her grandma.

Where’s Monday?

She’s gone to her grandma.

Mother pretends to look for her, and says—

She ain’t there.She’s gone to her aunt’s.

She ain’t there.

She’s gone to her aunt’s.

Children own at last—

The bonny Old Witch has took her!

The Mother beats the Daughter who has been so careless, goes to Witch, and says—

Have you any blocks of wood?No.Can I come in and see?No, your boots are too dirty, &c.[Same as previous versions.]

Have you any blocks of wood?

No.

Can I come in and see?

No, your boots are too dirty, &c.

[Same as previous versions.]

A number of girls stand in a line. Three girls out of the number represent Mother, Jack, and Daughter. The Mother leaves her children in charge of her Daughter, counts them, and says the following:—

I am going into the garden to gather some rue,And mind old Jack-daw don’t get you,Especially you my daughter Sue,I’ll beat you till you’re black and blue.

While the Mother is gone Jack comes and asks for a match; he takes a child and hides her up. The Mother comes back, counts her children, and finds one missing. Then she asks where she is, and the Daughter says that Jack has got her. The Mother beats the Daughter, and leaves them again, saying the same words as before, until all the children have gone.—Ipswich (Suffolk Folk-lore, p. 62).

I’ll charge my children every oneTo keep good house till I come home,Especially you my daughter Sue,Or else I’ll beat you black and blue.

—Hersham, Surrey (Folk-lore Record, v. 88).

Halliwell gives a version of this which he calls the game of the “Gipsy.” He gives no dialogue, but his game begins bythe Mother saying some lines to the eldest daughter, which are almost identical with those given from Hersham, Surrey. Mr. Newell gives some interesting American versions.

This game appears in the versions given above to be a child-stealing game, and it may originate from this being a common practice some years ago, but it will be found on comparison to be so much like “Mother, mother, the pot boils over” (vol. i. p. 396) that it is more probable that this is the same game, having lost the important element of the “giving of fire,” or a “light from the fire” out of the house, so soon as the idea that doing this put the inhabitants of the house into the power of the receiver or some evil spirit had become lost as a popular belief. “Matches” being asked for and a “light” confirms this. It will be seen that a Witch or evilly-disposed person is dreaded by the Mother, the eldest Daughter being specially charged to keep a good look-out. The naming of the children after the days of the week, the counting of them by the Mother, and the artifice of the eldest Daughter, in the London version, who gets counted twice, are archaic points. The discovery by tasting of the children by their Mother, and their suggested revival; the catching and “burning” of the Witch in the Dartmouth and Cornish games, are incidents familiar to us from nursery tales and from the trials of people condemned for witchcraft. Of the Cornish version it is said that “it has descended from generation to generation.”

Mr. Newell’s versions tend, I think, to strengthen my suggestion in “Mother, the pot boils over,” that the “fire” custom alluded to is the origin of that game and this. The fire incident has been forgotten, and the game therefore developed into a child-stealing or gipsy game.

See “Mother, Mother.”

A game among boys, which I do not remember in the South.—Brockett’sNorth Country Words. Probably the same as “Whiddy,” which see.

Sheep, sheep, come home!We dare not.What are you frightened of?The wolf.The wolf has gone home for seven days,Sheep, sheep, come home.

Sheep, sheep, come home!We dare not.

What are you frightened of?The wolf.The wolf has gone home for seven days,Sheep, sheep, come home.

—Settle, Yorks. (Rev. W. S. Sykes).

II.

Sheep, sheep, come home!I’m afraid.What of?The wolf.The wolf’s gone into Derbyshire,And won’t be back till six o’clock.Sheep, sheep, come home.

—Hanbury, Staffordshire (Miss Edith Hollis).

III.

Sheep, sheep, go out!I’m afraid.What you’re ’fraid of?Wolf.Wolf has gone to Devonshire;Won’t be back for seven year.Sheep, sheep, go out!

—Hurstmonceux, Sussex, as played about forty years ago (Miss E. Chase).

IV.

Sheep, sheep, come home!I’m afraid.What of?The wolf.The wolf’s gone to Devonshire,And won’t be back for seven year.Sheep, sheep, come home.

—Anderby (Miss M. Peacock), Barnes (A. B. Gomme).

V., VI.

Won’t be back for eleven year.

—Nottinghamshire (Miss M. Peacock).

—Marlborough, Wilts (H. S. May).

(b) One player acts as Shepherd, and stands at one side of the playground or field; another acts as Wolf. He crouches in one corner, or behind a post or tree. The other players are sheep, and stand close together on the opposite side of the ground to the Shepherd. The Shepherd advances and calls the sheep.At the end of the dialogue the sheep run across to the Shepherd and the Wolf pounces out, chases, and tries to catch them. Whoever he catches has to stand aside until all are caught. The game is played in this way in all versions sent me exceptHurstmonceux, where there is the following addition:—The Wolf chases until he has caught all the sheep, and put them in his den. He then pretends to taste them, and sets them aside as needing more salt. The Shepherd or Mother comes after them, and the sheep cover their heads with their aprons. The Mother guesses the name of each child, saying, “This is my daughter ——. Run away home!” until she has freed them all.

Versions of this game, almost identical with theAnderby version, have been collected from Sporle, Norfolk (Miss Matthews); Crockham Hill, Kent (Miss E. Chase); Hersham, Surrey (Folk-lore Record, v. p. 88); Marlborough, Wilts (H. S. May); Ash and Barnes, Surrey (A. B. Gomme). In Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire is the place the wolf is said to have gone to. Mr. M. L. Rouse sends the following fuller description of the game as played at Woolpit, near Haughley, Suffolk, which gives, I think, the clue to the earlier idea of the game:—

The game was played out of doors in a meadow. Two long parallel lines were drawn about fifty yards apart, forming bases behind them. Two boys stood some distance apart between the bases, and the rest of the players all stood within one base. One of the two boys in the centre acting as decoy cried “Sheep, sheep, come home!” The sheep represented by the boys in the base cried back, “We can’t, we’re afraid of the Wolf.” The decoy then said—

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