A number of children place their closed fists on top of one another in a pile. The leader asks, pointing to the topmost fist, “What’s in that sack?” Answer, Potatoes, or anything the child chooses. The leader tips it off with her finger, saying, “Knock it away,” and so to the very undermost fist, when she asks, “What’s in this sack?” The answer must be, “Bread and cheese;” and then the following dialogue takes place:— Where’s my share? The mouse eat it. Where’s the mouse? The cat killed it. Where’s the cat? The dog worried it. Where’s the dog? The cow tossed it. Where’s the cow? The butcher killed it. Where’s the butcher? Behind the door. And who ever speaks the first word shall get a sound round box on the ear.—Co. Cork (Mrs. B. B. Green). Saddle the Nag An equal number of players is chosen on each side. Two chiefs are chosen by lot. One of the chiefs takes his stand by a wall, and all his party bend their backs, joined in a line. One of the opposite side leaps on the back of the one farthest from the one standing at the wall, and tries to make his way over the backs of all the stooping boys, up to the one standing. Those stooping move and wriggle to cast him off, and if they succeed in doing so, he stands aside till all his side have tried. When all have tried and none succeed in crowning the one standing, the sides change. If one or more succeed, then each such has a second chance before the sides change. Each side commonly has six chances. The side that succeeds in oftenest touching the chief’s head wins the game.—Dyke (Rev. W. Gregor). See “Skin the Goatie.” Saggy A game with marbles [undescribed].—Dickinson’s _Cumberland Glossary_. Sailor Lad A sailor lad and a tailor lad, And they were baith for me; I wid raither tack the sailor lad, And lat the tailor be. What can a tailor laddie dee Bit sit and sew a cloot, When the bonnie sailor laddie Can turn the ship aboot. He can turn her east, and he can turn her west, He can turn her far awa’; He aye tells me t’ keep up my hairt For the time that he’s awa’. I saw ’im lower his anchor, I saw ’im as he sailed; I saw ’im cast his jacket To try and catch a whale. He skips upon the planestanes, He sails upon the sea; A fancy man wi’ a curly pow Is aye the boy for me, Is aye the boy for me; A fancy man wi’ a curly pow Is aye the boy for me. He daurna brack a biscuit, He daurna smoke a pipe; He daurna kiss a bonnie lass At ten o’clock at night. I can wash a sailor’s shirt, And I can wash it clean; I can wash a sailor’s shirt, And bleach it on the green. Come a-rinkle-tinkle, fal-a-la, fal-a-la, Aboun a man-o’-war. —Rosehearty (Rev. W. Gregor).