In Scotland the game is called “Hinnie Pigs,” and is played as follows. The boys sit down in rows, hands locked beneath their hams. Round comes one of them, the honey merchant, who feels those who are sweet and sour, by lifting them by the arm-pits and giving them three shakes. If they stand these without the hands unlocking below they are then sweet and saleable, fit for being office-bearers of other ploys.—Mactaggart’s _Gallovidian Encyclopædia_. In Ross and Stead’s _Holderness Glossary_ this is described as a girls’ game, in which two carry a third as a pot of honey to market. It is mentioned by Addy (_Sheffield Glossary_) and by Holland (_Cheshire Glossary_). Mr. Holland adds, “If the hands give way before twenty is reached it is counted a bad honey pot; if not, it is a good one.” In Dublin the seller sings out— Honey pots, honey pots, all in a row, Twenty-five shillings wherever you go— Who’ll buy my honey pots? —Mrs. Lincoln. The game is mentioned by a writer in _Blackwood’s Magazine_, August 1821, p. 36, as being played in Edinburgh when he was a boy. Hood A game played at Haxey, in the Isle of Axholme, on the 6th of January. The Hood is a piece of sacking, rolled tightly up and well corded, and which weighs about six pounds. This is taken into an open field on the north side of the church, to be contended for by the youths assembled for that purpose. When the Hood is about to be thrown up, the Plough-bullocks or Boggins, as they are called, dressed in scarlet jackets, are placed amongst the crowd at certain distances. Their persons are sacred, and if amidst the general row the Hood falls into the hands of one of them, the sport begins again. The object of the person who seizes the Hood is to carry off the prize to some public-house in the town, where he is rewarded with such liquor as he chooses to call for. This pastime is said to have been instituted by the Mowbrays, and that the person who furnished the Hood did so as a tenure by which he held some land under the lord. How far this tradition may be founded on fact I do not know, but no person now acknowledges to hold any land by that tenure.—Stonehouse’s _Isle of Axholme_, p. 291.