“Marbles are going out of fashion”, he says, “because they’re getting unpopular. That’s why. And I happen to know this”, says he, “because our little Percy he tells me that shopmen don’t stock them the way they did because they know that boys don’t ask for them the way they did and boys don’t ask for them the way they did because they know they couldn’t get them the way they did because shopmen don’t stock them the way they did. Which proves what I said. Trust me”, says he, “when things begin to lose their popularity, they are sure to become unfashionable sooner or later, whether it be games, or clothes, or drinks, _or_ religions. For instance”, says he, “take Nonconformity”. But I wasn’t taking Nonconformity just then, and when I tried to keep him to the point, and asked _why_ marlies, and just marlies, were getting unpopular, he scratches his chin which hadn’t been shaved for the inside of a week, and has another go at his tankard, and puts it down with a bit of a bang, emphatic-like--a sure sign, with Mr. Perkins--and then he looks at me and says: “Marbles are getting unpopular”, says he, “because they’re going out of fashion. That’s what’s the matter with marbles and with a good many other things as well. Take Nonconformity”, and when I told him I was only taking bitter that night, he has another pull at his Burton, and at last he says, casual-fashion: “Marbles are not stimulating enough for modern life. It’s the same with religions, _don’t you see_? Now take Nonconformity”--and God’s truth! I had to take Nonconformity for the better part of an hour, after all. But Mr. Perkins hit the nail on the head, all the same. For I feel sure that boys need more excitement than they did. Or perhaps I ought to say they want it. That’s it: they just want it. And thinking it over, I believe the cinematograph is to blame: it makes them want more excitement, and then it gives it them; and then it makes them want still more, and then it gives them still more; quite restless, in fact, it makes them, and I shouldn’t be surprised if sooner or later it weren’t responsible for a new kind of boy altogether. And that would mean the end of a number of these old games. Because nowadays the bigger lads, those who used to do most of the inventing--they prefer to go to picture-shows whenever they get a chance, instead of larking about the streets as they used to do. (They get some games out of the cinematograph, by the way, such as COWBOYS--INDIANS, which has lately been re-christened GERMANS--ENGLISH). So the playing-age is growing to be younger and younger, and these small boys are not so good at discovering fresh sports; it’s quite true they do make up new ones every day, but I think, on the whole, they forget more than they ought to remember; and this is the reason, if you really want to know, why I’m making up this catalogue: to see whether the next lot of children knows anything about these sports, or even their names.