ely artificial, and all
partakes of the grotesque. Here flourishes that monstrous cactus-like
growth called prickly-pear, with flat flap-like leaves resembling
fingerless green hands; warped and brutal-looking stems looking like
palsied arms. The cactus is abloom in red-hot poker ends. Orange
trees and lemon trees and olive trees abound. Burlesquely-shaped
palms, swathed in their overcoats, stand on the green lawns like
waxwork figures. There is a strange field of palms, and above and
behind them the great rocks of the mountain coast, and then the
sea-serpents of green water and white foam.

You walk along the parade-ground of the Terrace where wealth and style
show themselves to themselves, and then enter the gloomy portals of the
gaming-halls, and you step at once into a new and very serious
atmosphere. You feel something of the seriousness of an animal's mind
when it has become conscious of the existence somewhere of a trap.

The Casino is like a great club. You leave your hat and stick and
coat. You go upstairs, not as a visitor, but as one at home. The
place is moving with well-dressed people, some passing one way, some
another. You show your pass-ticket, and come not without trepidation
to the actual tables. I have all my travelling expenses in my
pocket--what if I get infected and put all on to a number?

The first impression is pleasant. In a mellow, golden light, a whole
series of happy afternoon-parties have been arranged. Groups of
interesting strangers have found a common interest and are sitting side
by side in perfect good manners around tables. There is only one row
of seats round each table, no tiers of seats. It is like a party at
home. At the back of those who sit others are standing looking on--not
indifferently. Tokens--chips, as they are called--are being placed on
various numbers, on the chance of a red number, or the chance of a
black number, on the chance of an even or on the chance of uneven, pair
or Impair, _passe_ or _manque_. It is so elementary that even the
dullest of Europeans can grasp the game at a few glances.

The croupiers, with their rakes, also sit at table (among the guests),
and help see that all is in order. The ball spins round. It rattles.
It loses its clear course and will come to rest in a slot. It does.
Some have won, many have lost.

The many parties, each with its separate table and distinct stories of
chance and luck going on, are intense and pre