CHARADE, or " syllable-puzzle" as the Germans call it, is an amusement which con sists in dividing a word of one or more syllables into its component syllables, or into its component letters, predicating something of each; and then, hayloft reunited the whole, and predicated something of that also, the reader or listener is asked to guess the word. As a specimen of the C. depending upon syllables, we adduce the following: " My first is plowed for various reasons, and grain is frequently buried in it to little purpose. My second is neither riches nor honors, yet the former would generally be given for it, and the latter are often tasteless without it. My whole applies equally w spring, summer, autumn, and winter: and both fish and flesh, praise and censure, mirth and melancholy, are the better for being in it. Ans. Sea-son." As a specimen of the second class of charades, we take the following happy example from the French: " Quatre membres font tout mon bien, Mon dernier vaut mou tout, et mon tout ne vaut rien." The word is zero. It is composed of four letters, of which the last—viz., o, is equal to zero; the whole, zero itself, being equal to nothing.
But besides charades of this nature, there is another kind rather popular at evening parties—the acted C.: the character of which is entirely dramatic. Half a dozen or so
of the company retire to a private apartment, and there agree to select a certain word, as the subject of the C.; let us suppose INNKEEPER. The next thing done is to take the first syllable, INN, and arrange a little scene and dialogue, each member taking a certain part. This being accomplished, the amateur actors return to the drawing-room, and commence their performance, the rest of the company constituting the spectators. Care is taken to mention conspicuously, and yet not obtrusively, in the course of the dialogue, the word INN, which is the subject of the scene. On its conclusion, they again retire, and devise a new series of incidents for the word KEEPER, generally something in connection with a menagerie or a madhouse. This being also represented, they retire for a third time, to contrive the final scene, into which both words, or rather the whole word, Innkeeper, must be dexterously introduced at an odd moment when the spec tators are thought to be off the scent. The company are then asked to guess the word. In order to the effective performance of a C. of this sort, the actors must possess a good share of inventiveness, self-possession, and ready talk, as the greater portion of the dia logue has to be extemporized.