FIRST ‘BUSS’ HEAD

"O’Grady says," "Baissez down for the sake of the pumpkin baissez down," "I lost my glove on Saturday night and found it on Sunday morning," "Little Sandy "Girl and "See the robbers passing by" were a few more.

One song-game, the parents did not like was "In a fine castle / Do you hear my Si-sie O." There was one person outside the ring bargaining for someone in the ‘castle’ and offering all sorts of gifts. That outside ‘character’ was equated with the ‘devil’ trying to capture the souls of children when he said, "I want Mary. Do you hear my Si-sie O." Parents thought that was a diabolical call foretelling the death of an offspring.

My brother and I liked "We are the Roman Soldiers" because it ended with a friendly fight but we also liked those games that gave us an opportunity to have physical contact with the fairer sex. After all they were "made of sugar and spice and every thing nice". For example, "In and out the dusty blue bell" was one where you had to weave through the ring, tapping the girl you liked on the shoulder when you heard - "Tippy tap me on my shoulder, I love you."

"The farmer in the dell" started with a boy as the farmer and he selected a wife when he heard the words. "The farmer takes a wife." Then the wife took the child who in turn took the nurse. And so it went on with the nurse - the dog - the cat- the rat and finally- the cheese which stood alone.

The game that brings back the most memories is "The Brown Boy in a ring."

One moonlight night after I had shown my motion, the song commanded, "Boy hug and kiss your partner." Just as I was about to select this pretty little girl like Shirley Temple who was loved by all the boys, a big bone hit me in the head. That was followed by endless missiles of stones and other objects from an upstairs gallery.

It was mayhem. There were cries, screams and shrieks all round with the children running madly to their homes. My mother used cotton to mop up the blood from my burst or ‘buss’ head as most people say, and parents were rushing from their verandahs to see what was the cause of the commotion. The culprit was that old killjoy — a big guy called Artie who seemed to be mentally deranged and was not allowed to play with anybody. He suffered from ‘malkadee,’ really epilepsy, and would get mad every now and then and pelt stones at children when they were having fun.

That night, Artie’s mother was frantic. With a thick leather belt, she beat him like a ‘bobolee’ until she was completely exhausted.

Mothers had to beg her to stop beating the boy. Artie screamed out repeatedly "I beg pardon Mammy, I won’t do it again!"

At eight or nine years, that was the first of three ‘buss’ heads I have had to endure in my life but I would like to assure everyone that the other two did not occur just as I was about to hug and kiss a woman.

And there is this story of a young man who was seen kissing a girl by her little brother. The man asked, "What can I give your brother to keep his mouth shut?" The girl replied, "He usually gets five dollars."