This game belongs apparently to the ball games used for purposes of divination. Mr. Newell (_Games_, p. 181) describes a similar game to this, in which the player whose name is called drops the ball; he must pick it up as quickly as possible while the rest scatter. He then calls “Stand!” upon which the players halt, and he flings it at whom he pleases. If he misses his aim, he must place himself in a bent position with his hands against a wall until every player has taken a shot at him. The idea of naming children after the days of the week occurs also in the games of “Gipsy,” “Witch,” and “Mother, Mother, the Pot boils over.” See “Ball,” “Burly Whush,” “Keppy Ball.” Moolie Pudding The game of “Deadelie;” one has to run with the hands locked and “taen” the others.—Mactaggart’s _Gallovidian Encyclopædia_. See “Chickidy Hand,” “Deadelie,” “Hunt the Staigie,” “Whiddy.” More Sacks to the Mill A very rough game, mentioned in Dean Miles’ MS., p. 180 (Halliwell’s _Dictionary_). Lowsley (_Berkshire Glossary_) says this is “a favourite game with children at Christmas-time, when wishing for one of a romping character,” but he does not describe it further. Northall (_English Folk Rhymes_, p. 354) says that in Warwickshire and Staffordshire boys torture an unfortunate victim by throwing him on the ground and falling atop of him, yelling out the formula, “Bags to [on] the mill.” This summons calls up other lads, and they add their weight. Mother, may I go out to Play? I. Mother, may I go out to play? No, my child, it’s such a wet day. Look how the sun shines, mother. Well, make three round curtseys and be off away. [Child goes, returns, knocks at door. Mother says, “Come in.”] What have you been doing all this time? Brushing Jenny’s hair and combing Jenny’s hair. What did her mother give you for your trouble? A silver penny. Where’s my share of it? Cat ran away with it. Where’s the cat? In the wood. Where’s the wood? Fire burnt it. Where’s the fire? Moo-cow drank it. Where’s the moo-cow? Butcher killed it. Where’s the butcher? Eating nuts behind the door, and you may have the nutshells. —London (Miss Dendy, from a maid-servant).