spend the entire day in the house, and on starting, open an account with the bank, which is kept carefully posted on a pewter slab before them, and balanced at the close of the day. When the stakes are made, some are dropped from the upper gallery in a small basket attached to a cord. The teller, who conducted the vital part of the business, sat there serene and stolid, closely watched in spite of his seeming probity and hon- our. His sleeves were short, nearly up to his arm-pits; before him, on the table, lay a pile of polished cash, from this he took a handful, placed it on a clear space and covered it with a brass cup. After the stakes were made, the cup was removed, and the teller proceeded with the extreme end of an ivory wand to pick out the cash in fours, the remaining number being that which wins. Before the pile is half counted, provided there are no split coins or trickery in the game, a habitual player can always tell, with puzzling accuracy, what the remainder will be, and at this stage of the game one observes a striking pecu- liarity in the Chinese character. There are no passionate excla- mations, no noisy excitement, no outbursts of delight, no deep cursing of adverse fate. It is only in the faces of the players one can see the signs of emotion, or the sullen determination to carry on at all hazards, until Fortune smiles once more, or leaves them beggared at the board.
Native gambling is not confined to gaming-houses, it is carried on in clubs and private abodes, in the highways and at the corners of streets by labourers in their leisure moments; even children will form a ring round a vendor of sweets and stake their cash in the attempt to win a double share of his condiments. Lotteries are also in great vogue in China at all times; for these, tickets are sold on which a series of numbers are engrossed; the purchaser pays his cent and marks ten of
