Our Aunt Esta had cakes in a box. They seemed to be very good cakes. "Now in about ten minutes," read our Aunt Esta from her book, "you will all begin to feel very queer." "Oh--Lordy!" said my Father. "I knew it!" said the Rich Man. "I knew it all the time! From the very first mouthful--my stomach----" "Is there no antidote?" cried my Mother. Our Aunt Esta took off her horn-rimmed spectacles. She sniffed. "Sillies!" she said. "This is just a Game, you know!" "Nevertheless," said the Rich Man, "I certainly feel very queer." "When you all feel equally queer," said our Aunt Esta coldly, "we will proceed with the Game." We all felt equally queer just as soon as we could. Our Aunt Esta made a speech. She made it from her little book. "Poor helpless Captives (said the Speech). You are now entirely in my power! Yet fear not! If everybody does just exactly as I say, all may yet be well!" "Hear! Hear!" said my Father. The Rich Man suddenly seemed to like my Father very much. He reached over and nudged him in the ribs. "Shut up!" he whispered. "The less you say the sooner it will be over!" My Father said less at once. He seemed very glad to know about it. Our Aunt Esta pointed to a boxful of little envelopes. "Foul Menial," she said. "Bring the little envelopes!" The Rich Man brought them. But not very cheerfully. "Oh, of course, it's all right to call _me_ that," he said. "But I tell you quite frankly that my daughter Posie's maid will never stand for it! _Her_ name is Elizabeth Lou!--Mrs. Jane--Frank--Elizabeth Lou--even!" Our Aunt Esta looked at the Rich Man. Her look was scornfuller and scornfuller. "_All_ Witch's servants," she said, "are called 'Foul Menial!'--From the earliest classical records of fairy tale and legend down to----" "Not in our times," insisted the Rich Man. "I defy you in any Intelligence Office in New York to find a--a----" Our Aunt Esta brushed the contradiction aside. She frowned. Not just at the Rich Man. But at everybody. "We will proceed with the Rehearsal--as written!" she said. She gruffed her voice. She thumped her wand on the floor. "Each captive," she said, "will now step forward and draw a little envelope from the box." Each captive stepped forward and drew a little envelope from the box. Inside each envelope was a little card. Very black ink words were written on each card. "Captives, stand up very straight!" ordered our Aunt Esta. Every captive stood very straight. "Knock your knees together with fear!" ordered our Aunt Esta. Every captive knocked his knees together with fear. "Strain at your chains!" ordered our Aunt Esta. "But not too hard! Remembering they are paper!" Every captive strained at his chains but not too hard! Remembering they were paper! Our Aunt Esta seemed very much pleased. She read another poem from her book. The poem said: