HIDE-AND-SEEK.
It is still a question among the players of this game in France, whether one should say hide, hide, Mitoubat, or hide, hide, Nicholas? The frolicksome group whose plays we are describing, did not care a jot which was most proper; in fact, they seldom gave themselves the trouble to reason either upon the names or the choice of their diversions. They were induced to engage in this, from a circumstance which we are about to mention. The amusements which were practised at the castle of D’Hernilly, were very much talked of in the neighbourhood, and the fame of their sports drew a number of youthful visitors to the family. We have before observed, that young ladies alone were admitted; among those who presented themselves were several new-married ladies, who did not blush to join again in the innocent diversions of their childhood. The young ladies and their visitors passed a whole day in juvenile sports, without feeling a moment’s uneasiness, except when the hour came which by summoning them to partake of a repast, interrupted their games.
There are several ways of playing at Hide-and-Seek: sometimes one of the children went and hid herself in a dark corner, as far as she could from the others, but always within a certain distance; the others then ran about in every direction within this space to find her, and the one who succeeded in doing so, concealed herself in her turn in the best hiding-place she could find. The ladies’-maids, and some of the other female domestics, exerted their skill to aid those who wished to hide, in discovering the most secret corners; but care was always taken to avoid all dangerous places, as, for example, steep stairs, from whence they might have been precipitated at the moment when they were on the point of being seized.
Another way of playing at hide-and-seek, is to form a circle, and to set a person to seek through it for a particular object, which each of the others contrives to conceal from her view; a pocket-handkerchief, a snuff-box, or, in short, any toy or trinket, will serve for this purpose. Formerly they used to make use of a slipper, but always upon the express condition, that it should be very clean: this is, however, a shabby sort of expedient, and ought to be proscribed in good company: when it is adopted the game is called Hunt-the-Slipper.
Our readers will readily conceive, that the Misses D’Hernilly and their companions, did not condescend to hunt the slipper: but when they were tired of hide-and-seek in the way we have described, they seated themselves in a semi-circle upon the grass, in a very picturesque part of the garden, where flowers, of the most varied and beautiful hues, at once delighted the eyes, and gave a delicious fragrance to the air.
Mademoiselle Valeria, one of the new comers, voluntarily offered to play the dull part of the seeker. A young lady went round the circle holding up the drapery of her shawl, in order that Mademoiselle Valeria, who held her hand before her eyes, promising at the same time not to cheat, might not see to whom she gave the handkerchief.
As soon as she had given it, she cried aloud, “It is done;” at this cry, Mademoiselle Valeria began the round; the pocket-handkerchief which she pursued with ardour, circulated rapidly from hand to hand, and was concealed by the players in the folds of their dress. It is necessary for the seeker to guess exactly who the person is who holds it, and to seize her in the act. Poor Valeria found it very difficult to do this, for at the moment that she thought herself sure of finding the handkerchief, the one who held it slily slipped it to another, and it arrived in the twinkling of an eye, at the very extremity of the circle.
After a long and vain search, Valeria succeeded at last in seizing the handkerchief in the hand of Adela, who being now obliged to become a seeker in her turn, retired to a fountain, and turning her back to her companions, waited till it was time to begin the search. She did not wait long, the signal was speedily given, and, more lucky than Valeria, she was only a few minutes before she succeeded in discovering and seizing the handkerchief. A third and a fourth speedily took her place in turn. At last, Ernestina suffered the handkerchief to be found in her possession. This was a real triumph to all the rest, because Ernestina was supposed to understand the game better than any of them, and she was, besides, very active, so that it was extremely difficult to catch her; in fact, she would have escaped then, if a mischievous neighbour had not purposely been too long in receiving the handkerchief which she passed to her.
They cried bravo on all sides, and mischievously determining to tease Ernestina, they formed a little plot against her, while she was standing on one side, waiting for the game to begin. The hour approached for leaving off play, and they quickly agreed to finish with a little cheating trick. The pocket-handkerchief for which Ernestina was to seek, was placed at a great distance under a tuft of flowers, and they made believe to pass it from hand to hand. Ernestina was completely duped by this stratagem; her young friends’ hands moved with so much rapidity that she never perceived they passed nothing; for, to render the illusion more complete, they every now and then shewed her the corner of a gown, the end of a shawl, or sometimes another handkerchief. Ernestina eagerly caught hold of what she saw; but she was soon made sensible of her error, by long and loud bursts of laughter. However, she took these disappointments very gaily, and passed rapidly on, first to the right, and then to the left, till she became fatigued and out of breath. The mirth of her young friends grew more noisy; their suppressed laughter and whisperings, and perhaps also some inadvertence on the part of the youngest players, warned her at last, that they were making game of her. “I am certain,” cried she, “that the handkerchief is at a distance from this spot, and that you only make believe to pass it, and that is not the game.” They were obliged then to confess the trick they had played her. Ernestina was half inclined to be angry; but she had been often told that ill-humour alters the prettiest features; and perhaps this idea had some share in making her quickly get the better of hers; for she immediately resumed her gaiety, and returned to the castle, saying that she should one day take her revenge. Her comrades defied her to realize her threats; when she promised them that they would be caught sooner than they expected. Perhaps, after all, she was herself the first who was caught; for at her age we are easily deceived, because the credulity, natural to youth, lays us open to imposition.
Madame D’Hernilly, to whom Ernestina related her adventure, laughed very heartily at it, and said it was not the first time people sought to discover mysteries, where there were none. She gave, as an example of this, the following singular anecdote of the celebrated Catherine II., Empress of Russia. This sovereign was one day surrounded by some of the gravest of her courtiers, and becoming tired of their pedantic dissertations, she said, “Permit me, gentlemen, to interrupt for a moment the important discussion in which you are engaged, in order to consult you about a charade which I have read in the last Mercure de France, and which I cannot solve. It is this; ‘my first is a cavity, my second is a cavity, my whole is a cavity.’”
Our statesmen, with all the suppleness of true courtiers, turned their conversation immediately from politics to the charade. Nothing could be more easy than to find hollow objects, which might be supposed to form one of its three parts; but they tried in vain to discover any term which could be applied to the whole. The Empress made a pretence to slip out of the room, leaving her counsellors profoundly occupied with their endeavours to solve the charade, which they were heartily vexed at being unable to do at last. The next day, however, they discovered that the Empress had merely been amusing herself at their expense, for they found that there was no such charade in the latest Mercure de France, which had arrived at St. Petersburgh.
This was not the only time that Catherine sought, by jokes of this kind, to divert the ennui attendant upon a throne; and to lighten the painful yoke of etiquette. We might relate more than one trick of this sort which she has played, not merely upon different persons, but very often upon the inhabitants of a whole city. On more than one occasion, the people of the capital have tormented themselves during whole days to discover the solutions of problems and enigmas, which in reality had no meaning.