THE CHILDREN'S POLITICAL PARTY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18889, 12 October 1929, Page 18 (Supplement)

THE CHILDREN'S POLITICAL PARTY.

Because a general election is forthcoming, Elsie Mae decided to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a “Political Party” of her own. A popular party it proved to be. The invitations typewritten on ordinary newspaper stock were in the form of a rhyme: “I’m having a Political Party And you’ve been elected to come. We’ll inaugurate Joy for our leader; We’ll win on a platform of fun, Wear on your brow the symbol Of a man or woman great. Come to my house on (date) We’ll begin making history at eight” Impersonating a great character by a sign on the forehead proved exciting. Almost as much fun as a masquerade, with not nearly as much effort, it was an effective ice-breaker for that stiff first half-hour. Elsie Mae used a very thoughtful way to keep our interest through all the games. When we arrived each one of us received a “voting” slip arranged like a tally card with every game listed. Winners received a certain number of votes to be entered on the sheet opposite the event. In “Great Impersonations”, the first game, five votes were received for every one guessed rightly. We were eager for the next game then and more votes. We were divided into four parties, and became Conservatives. Liberals. Labour or Prohibitionists, according to the letter which we drew. Each party named a political candidate to be entered in this race. On a side wall of the room was hung a picture of the House of Commons and from the door emerged four long, winding roads. In reality, these were strips of paper fifteen or twenty feet long and three* quarters of an inch wide. Each candidate was given a small pair of scissors and, amid the cheers of his followers, made his way to the door as rapidly as he could cut the narrow strip of paper lengthwise. The Socialist nominee, being a girl, handled the scissors with greater speed and arrived at the Parliament doorstep two feet ahead of the Liberal. She and every member of her party received twenty votes each while every Liberal was allowed ten. “Taxing knowledge”, the next stunt, did that very thing, and many of us lost some votes. The guests sit in a circle. The leader in the centre points quickly to one and says Sussex (or any county in England), then counts to ten. The person addressed must answer “Augusta” (or the capital of the county called) before ten counts are finished or he loses five votes and becomes leader. The person who is “It” dares not name a county of which he does not remember the capital, and may be challenged to name the city by the person whom he has called upon. If the leader fails to name the capital at once he loses five votes and the one who challenged gets five. Pencil and paper games are always popular for parties, so Elsie Mae included some of these.

One “intellectual” game ended in shrieks of laughter. “Peace Politicians” looked anything but peaceful though done piece-by-piece. In the centre of a sheet of paper each one drew the head and neck of a politician. This much of the paper was folded over and passed to the party on the right, who added his bit by sketching the figure to the waist line, including, of course, the proper gestures with the arms. Folded and passed again, trousers or a skirt were attached while number four drew the feet and signed the composition. They were then unfolded, posted, examined and judged. A new form of the popular game of “Consequences”. “Campaigns” read the next stunt title. An outline map of England about three feet across was hung on the side of the room. Several darts had been prepared—a pin in one end of a stick and paper wings fastened in slits in the other end. The player stood six or eight feet (depending on the size of the dart) from the wall, pitching the dart at the map in an attempt to hit the sections carrying the largest number of votes. A small heart in the centre of the map represented the Heart of England, and a hit there counted twenty-five votes. A band around the heart gave twenty. Two sections were labelled “Neutral Territory—No votes”. Another head. “Opposition Lose Ten Votes”. Some areas in the far corners counted fifteen votes, others five or ten. Around the map was a “ten-mile limit” and hitting anywhere beyond that, ten votes were lost. Each person threw three darts.

“Platform Policies” was an adaptation of our old friend, charades. We were arranged in groups of six. A rug became the platform and each group presented a charade which had to be some historical or political event. How realistic it was when John, as Sir Walter, knelt before the approaching Queen, spread his handkerchief in the path and said, “Step on it, Lizzie!” “Stuffing the Ballot Box”. Well, we wondered about that. What could it be but refreshments! These were carried out in patriotic colours, and every dish of cream flew a tiny silk flag as a favour. Red, white and blue striped crepe paper used as lunch cloth gave a colourful air to the tables. Each cover was marked by a tiny candle and holder, the holder made from toffee—a mint and three life savers. A flat red mint became the base, two life savers (the kind with holes) were placed on top and another placed at right angles for the handle. These were held in place with fondant. A small blue candle placed in the holder completed the charming little favour. During tea-time our score cards were added and prizes were awarded to those having highest scores. On the whole our political party was a great success.

FOOTBALL FUN. Taking my customary charitable view I suppose many football players who* get sent off the field are really more shinned against than shinning