Classic Poem

“I Dree I D ROPPIT I T ” calls for a mixture of the sexes, and when the numbers are even—or as nearly as chance affords—the players are ranged in a ring, a boy and girl alternately facing inwards with a space between each. The one who is “chapped out”—say it is a girl—goes tripping round the others' backs, with a handkerchief dangling in her hand, singing the while:—

I sent a letter to my love,
 And by the way I droppit it,
 I dree, I dree, I droppit it,
 I dree, I dree, I droppit it;
I sent a letter to my love,
 And by the way I droppit it.
There's a wee, wee doggie in our cot-neuk,
 He'll no bite you, he'll no bite you;
There's a wee, wee doggie in our cot-neuk,
 He'll no bite you—nor you—nor you—nor you, and so forth, until at length she drops the handkerchief stealthily at the heel of one of the little boys, saying “but you,” and bolts round this player, round that one, in here, out there, and away! And the boy, who has first to pick up the handkerchief, gives chase, pursuing her exactly in the course which she may choose to take. If he makes a wrong turn, by that fact he is “out,” and must take her place; but if he pursues her correctly and overtakes her, he may claim a kiss for his pains, for which heroism he will receive the applause of the crowd; and the girl—suffused with blushes, as it may be—must try and try again—indeed, try until she proves herself more agile than her pursuer, whom, of course, she is always free to choose. When at length—as come it will some time—her effort is successful, she takes her victim's place in the ring, and he takes hers on the outside of it. And thus the play may go on—boy and girl about—as long as time and energy will permit.