Duck apple
A barrel full of water and apples makes for a wonderful evening for adults and children alike. Add some on a string as well and watch the unwary get an eyeful of apple instead of a bite of the delicious fruit.
Success at duck apple requires quick reflexes and a wide jaw, it often helps to have apples which are slightly smaller than usual so that small mouths get a chance to catch them too. Any you capture you can eat, if you happen to like apples that is.
Today’s writing prompt is a ‘what happened next?’ based on the picture Halloween, by Howard Chandler Christy. The picture was published in Scribner’s Magazine in January 1916 and is one of series of paintings of what is known as the Christy Girl, a picturesque and romantic type of society women.
Please feel free to leave your effort, or even a link to it if it’s on your own website, below. Alternatively, if you are time strapped share the title you might use, a first or last paragraph, or even a stanza from a poem, or some lyrics.
And here’s my effort .. please be kind 🙂
A shrill voice rang out ‘Hector’. Time slowed as every head turned to watch the unfolding disaster. Waiters rushed from all sides of the room with dishcloths, towels and mops to prevent a cascade of water flow through the gallery and onto unwary dancers in the ballroom below.
Charity turned and whispered, ‘look mama, Aunt Edith has an apple in her hair’.
I hushed her, ‘Charity you know very well that young ladies never talk about another unless it is to compliment’. I winked to show solidarity and we both chuckled quietly as Edith was led, sobbing, from the party by Uncle Hector.
(Image Halloween, 1915, Howard Chandler Christy)
Hi Linda
I love this picture and the image of Aunt Edith’s hair apple! And Charity’s mother’s very British reaction of outward sympathy but secret delight.
I’m going to give this a go – thanks for the prompt
Thanks Iain, I liked the image too
Made me smile as well, Linda. “Aunt Edith has an apple in her hair” is a great title for story or a poem.
The last time I did apple bobbing was at my housewarming party in about 2008. 20 adults all having a go at either the water version on the string version. To say it was hillarious would be an understatement Lesley and yes, there was apple everywhere, as well as water!
In England we call the game “Bobbing for Apples”…here’s my take…
~ ~ ~
The respectable ladies were dancing, daringly holding skirts above their ankles, with back-skin exposed. They danced sedately, keeping their hair piled up and those vulnerable napes and shoulder-blades glow-free.
The maids were in the hall-way, bobbing for apples. No doubt they knew the fruit floated in the finest apple-champagne, a very different thing from rustic cider, but still as free of bubbles and easier to sneak into the punch bowl. Maria, Sophia, and Eleanor, three pretty maids from school, already rosy-cheeked and egging each other on, bowed over the fountain, and made a show of it: a show for the “gentlemen” who, bored as they were of staid and stately footwork, leaned where they could ~ politely ~ leer into reflections of low-cut bodices.
Maids are never as unknowing as the gentlemen believe. And the job of the chaperone is not to shield her protegée, but to advance her cause. Eliza watched the blue corner with approval.
But at every party there would be a Becky, a Lizzie, or a Meg, no better than she ought to be, in a borrowed gown and knowledge of the back-stairs, and hair just as elegant, and speech she’d learned from ladies. And a candle, obviously. Maybe, she also had the magic learned from mothers and crones, and knew the darker ways.
This time I called myself Lily, such a pale decorous name, to lead a gentleman into the darkness with.
What can I say? It’s more fun than bobbing for apples.
~/~
Oh my, how daring you are Lily… as you say, no better than you ought to be 😉
😂😇
Clearly she didn’t have a lily white reputation Lesley.
You’ve just outlined an episode of Downton Abbey which was never made. Think they missed a trick….👏🫢
😇😂
A Total Ducking Disaster
Lady Smythe desired a world where people knew their place
An elegant Edwardian – a lady weaned on lace
She loved – and lived – to entertain, it gave her so much joy
Hosting all the upper crust, though never hoi polloi
Now Lady S loved party games – they made her spirits soar
She felt they fostered bonhomie, and esprit de corps
Hearing it was popular at Halloween themed fests
Thought apple ducking just the thing for her distinguished guests
Thus her silver punch bowl brimmed with lots of bobbing apple
Sundry types of red and green – all rather hard to grapple
If guests could only use their mouths while face down in the water
The contest got competitive, with no-one giving quarter
Now Hattie Hardy-Huffington, who always dressed in style
And thanks to her quite dazzling teeth was famous for her smile
In company she barely spoke, (‘twas said that she was shy)
Though it wasn’t till that evening that society found why
Young Hattie ducked her head down and she sank those pearly whites
Into a juicy Granny Smith (too easily, by rights)
When just about to straighten up and so display her prize
She felt a mini tidal wave come crashing in her eyes
For Bunty Bufton Tufton who had sashayed ‘cross the floor
(On hearing of some fruit-based fun and eager to see more)
Had slipped and fallen forwards and for just a girl of twenty
‘Twas often said (behind her back) she’d embonpoint aplenty
Landing face first in the bowl, she made a mighty splash
The genteel, evening ambience was shaken by the crash
The appled water thus displaced, the liquid levels rose
Heading straight to Hattie’s face and shooting up her nose
Her coiffured head withdrew at speed, on getting such a shock
Dripping from décolleté and ruining her frock
Without a chance to think at all, the lady cried out loud
Grabbing the attention of a fascinated crowd
For everyone could clearly see young Hattie’s mouth transformed
Alas, no longer non-pareil, it seemed to be deformed
As in the punch bowl water – barely floating underneath
A pristine, perfect, Snow White set of beautiful false teeth
The surreal sight was bound to be a conversation stopper
As faux pas go it must be said, that Hattie’s was a whopper
The poor girl couldn’t style it out – those gnashers weren’t her own!
She grabbed some tongs to fish them out, then made a dash for home
Through a perfect storm of mishaps – and in public – she had sinned
(It would have been less cringeworthy had she just broken wind)
For as she ran that evening Hattie heard such cruel roars
Of laughter from her erstwhile friends come bursting through the doors
The apple ducking brouhaha at Lady Smythe’s soirée
Became the stuff of legend – it’s remembered to this day
So when I got this picture prompt I wasn’t that perplexed
For Linda, it’s the gospel truth – that’s what happened next!
Oh, Iain…deep joy! Thank you. It’s brilliant.
Thanks Lesley
I still want to see the Downton Abbey episode…😀