s, seven loses;' and so on, every other card alternately
winning and losing, till all the pack was dealt but the last card.

The LAST card turned up was, by the rules of the game, for the advantage
of the talliere; although a player might have one of the same sort,
still it was allowed to him as one of the dues of his office, and he
paid nothing on it.

The bold player who was lucky and adventurous, and could push on his
couch with a considerable stake to sept-et-le-va, quinze-et-le-va,
trente-et-le-va, &c., must in a wonderful manner have multiplied his
couch, or first stake; but this was seldom done; and the loss of the
players, by the very nature of the game, invariably exceeded that of the
bank; in fact, this game was altogether in favour of the bank; and yet
it is evident that--in spite of this obvious conviction--the game
must have been one of the most tempting and fascinating that was ever
invented.

Our English adventurers made this game very different to what it was in
France, for there, by royal edict, the public at large were not allowed
to play at more than a franc or ten-penny bank,--and the losses or gains
could not bring desolation to a family; but in England our punters could
do as they liked--staking from one guinea to one hundred guineas and
more, upon a card, 'as was often seen at court,' says the old author,
my informant. When the couch was alpieued, parolied, to sept-et-le-va,
quinze-et-le-va, trente-et-le-va, &c., the punter's gains were
prodigious, miraculous; and if fortune befriended him so as to bring his
stake to soissante-et-le-va, he was very likely to break the bank,
by gaining a sum which no talliere could pay after such tremendous
multiplication. But this rarely happened. The general advantage was
with the bank--as must be quite evident from the explanation of the
game--besides the standing rule that no two cards of the same sort
turning up could win for the players; the second always won for the
bank. In addition to this there were other 'privileges' which operated
vastly in favour of the banker.

However, it was 'of so bewitching a nature,' says our old writer, 'by
reason of the several multiplications and advantages which it seemingly
offered to the unwary punter, that a great many like it so well that
they would play at small game rather than give out; and rather than
not play at all would punt at six-penny, three-penny, nay, a twopenny
bank,--so much did the hope of winning the q