"They should be romping with us, For they are only children yet; But they will not play at anything Except a cigarette. No plays will cheer the Prado In future times, for then The little boys of seven Will all be married men." Fernando, and even the graver Antonio, entered into all the childish sports with the rest, and an especial favourite was a play very much like our "London Bridge is Falling Down," called the "Gate of Alcala." Two children are chosen to head the lines, and called Rose and Pink. They form an arch with their arms held up and their fingers locked, and under this the other children pass headed by the mother. They sing gaily a little dialogue: _Rose and Pink._ "To the viper of love that hides in the flowers The only way lies here." _Mother._ "Then here I pass and leave behind One little daughter dear." _Rose and Pink._ "Shall the first one or the last Be captive of our chain?" _Mother._ "Oh, the first one runs so lightly, The last one shall remain." _Chorus._ "Pass on, oho, pass on, aha! By the Gate of Alcala." The last child, with squeals of delight, is caught in the falling arms, and chooses whether she shall follow Rose or Pink, taking her place behind the one of her choice. When all have been chosen, there is a grand tug of war, the merry party singing, meantime. _Rose and Pink._ "Let the young mind make its choice, As young minds chance to think; Now is Rose your leader, Or go you with the Pink? Let the young mind make its choice By laws the young heart knows. Now is Pink your leader Or go you with the Rose?" _Chorus._ "Pass on, oho, pass on, aha, By the Gates of Alcala." The boys enjoyed playing soldier, and would whittle toy swords out of sticks, and form in line, marching and singing: "The Catalans are coming, Marching two by two; All who hear their drumming, Tiptoe for a view, Aye, aye, tiptoe for a view; Red and yellow banners, Pennies very few. Aye, aye, pennies very few. "Red and yellow banners The moon comes out to see; If moons had better manners She'd take me on her knee. Aye, aye, she'd take me on her knee. She peeps through purple shutters; Would I were tall as she. Aye, aye, would I were tall as she. "Soldiers need not learn letters Nor any schooly thing; But, unless they mind their betters, In golden chains they swing. Aye, aye, in golden chains they'll swing. Or sit in silver fetters, Presents from the king. Aye, aye, presents from the king."