THE FAMILY COACH.

Did you ever hear of the game called Family Coach?

No?--Well, then, as it is very amusing, I will tell you how to play it, but you must promise not to quarrel, not to knock each other about, not to tread on one another's toes, and not to make more noise than you can possibly help!

So now, take your seats, every Jack and Jill among you.

Are you all seated? And all comfortable? Very well, then; but we must just have one more seat than is being used-you will see why, presently—and so I take grandmamma's armchair and place it in this corner. And next I find a seat for myself.

Now, before we have a coach, we must agree upon the persons to whom it shall belong. I say it shall be Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin's coach, but who will be Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin?

You, Georgie Aylmer, shall be Mr. Fitzwiggin, and you, Bessie Seymour, shall be his wife. Don't giggle! It's all make-believe, you know.

You, Frank Martin, shall be their portly Butler, and you, Tom Brown, their Footman. Then, as a coach is of no use without a Groom, Charlie Brown shall be he, and a very dapper groom he would make, no doubt.

Next we want a pair of horses-black and brown.

be black horse? You, Ned Martin?

Who will

horse?

Willie Seymour?

Don't gallop too fast!

Nothing can be better. Gee ho!

Now for the different parts of the coach, which I will give you

out one by one.

You, Edward Aylmer, will be-Whip.

You, Ellen Aylmer, will be-Reins.

You, Walter Brown, will be-Steps.

You, Fanny Brown, will be-Axle. You, Caroline Robinson, will be-Box. You, Harry Johnson, will be-Rumble. There, that will do, I think. have all got something tacked on to your name. How many are there? Thirteen? Well, that's all of us, but if there had been half a dozen more we could have found characters for them. That's

Just count and see whether you

the best of the game. It can be played by ten, twenty, thirty-I should not wonder but a hundred might manage it, if they had Hyde Park or Wimbledon Common to play in.

The Rules of the Game are these:

Each person, when I name the article he represents, will get up and turn round once, or will pay a forfeit.

All of you, when I say FAMILY COACH! will get up and change places, taking care not to sit down in the seat last occupied by me-the worshipful Story-teller-or else the person doing so must also pay a forfeit.

I will now tell you a rigmarole of a story in order to see if you can understand the nature of the game. Remember the rules, and each one of you look out! lest you get a forfeit, and have to bite

an inch off a poker, blow opportunity through a keyhole, or do some other equally dreadful thing.

Once upon a time there lived in Montmorency Square a very respectable couple of the name of Fitzwiggin—that is, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin. [That's right: Georgie and Bessie both turned round.]

They were very well to do, for they had no children—noisy brats they called them-while they had two thousand pounds ayear, a large house, a larger garden, a fine conservatory, a great parrot all red and green, a dog that barked at everybody, a fat wheezy butler, and a tall slender footman, with the longest legs you ever saw off a spider.

[Ha, ha, Tom Brown!

turn.

While laughing at me he forgot to

Put him down for a forfeit.]

But not only had they a footman [turn again, Tom], and a butler [turn again, Frank], but they had a not so fast, ladies and gentlemen; do you want to take the story out of the storyteller's mouth ?-they had a-what do you think?-why, a whip [that's for you, Master Ted], and a pair of reins [look out, Ellen Aylmer], and, of course, whip and reins would have been of no use without a FAMILY COACH. [Now you have got it; change places every one of you! There; Bessie has sat down in the chair I was sitting in! A forfeit, Bessie ! A little less noise, ladies and gentlemen, and I will continue my exciting history.]

What would be the use of possessing a FAMILY COACH [all

change places; hurrah! this is capital exercise; you are sitting in

my

chair again, Bessie; another forfeit !]-if you never went out in it! So Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin determined, one fine summer day, that they would have out this superb vehicle-it was almost large enough to have held a company of soldiers !—and go for a

drive into the country.

Mr. Fitzwiggin, therefore, rang for the footman, and told him to inform the coachman of his intention, and order it-I mean the FAMILY COACH [take care, Charlie, or you'll send Tom into the fireplace]-to be got ready immediately.

Mrs. Fitzwiggin rang for the butler, and gave him directions to put a bottle of wine into the carriage, "because," said she, "I am troubled with the spasms, and a drop of good port will comfort my poor-poor-poor-" I am ashamed to repeat what she said "poor, poor, poor"-yes, that was the word, Frank"stomach !"

You may fancy what a hurrying to and fro there was in Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin's establishment. The butler was as busy as

a bee; the footman ran to the coachman, and the coachman ran to the groom; the groom brought out the black horse, and the coachman brought out the brown horse; while the footman stood looking on and whistling [quite right to turn round, Tom Brown, but you need not have whistled]. As soon as the horses were put to in the carriage, the coachman examined the axle, while the groom let down the steps, and the footman, as proud as a peacock, took his place in the rumble. Then the coachman gave another look at the axle to make sure it was safe [ah, Fanny, I have

caught you! you did not turn round; Fanny Brown, a forfeit !], and mounted his box, gathering the reins up in his hand, and flourishing his whip in the air.

Away went the butler to inform Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin that the FAMILY COACH was ready!

[Ned Martin is sitting in my chair! A forfeit, Ned!]

Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin, escorted by the butler, descended the stairs, opened the street door, and there, drawn up close to the pavement, they found their FAMILY

[Ha, ha, ha, Tom!

That's a false start! You wanted to get

a-head of me ;] their Family

VEHICLE! You see I am not obliged to call it

A FAMILY COACH! -[Run, Fanny; run, Caroline !]

-unless I choose. Well; the groom opened the carriage door and flung down the steps with a jerk, while the footman raised his hat, and the coachman gave a touch to the black horse with his - whip to keep him quiet, taking care at the same time to pull up the brown horse's head with the reins, just, as he said, to let him know who was behind him. Then, as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwiggin were seated, and the door was closed, the groom mounted the box by the side of the coachman, and the butler got up into the rumble along with the footman, and with a flourish of the whip, and a pull of the reins, away went black horse and brown horse, dragging with all their might the

FAMILY COACH!

[There's Harry Johnson in my place now; he must pay a forfeit.]