The Fly Leaf, No. 3, Vol. 1, February 1896 / A Pamphlet Periodical of the New - the New Man, New Woman, New Ideas, Whimsies and Things

THE GAMBLERS.

The rain splashed in his face, soaked through his garments, ran down his back and trickled through his wide sleeves in an almost vindictive manner. But he shambled on indifferently, slowly and heavily, apparently totally unconscious of physical discomfort. Looking into that bald face one could not penetrate its placidity, and even the eyes seemed expressionless. The small, well-shaped hands did not look as if they were accustomed to manual labor; nevertheless his clothing consisted of the ordinary blue blouse and pantaloons of a working Chinaman, and it was a very dilapidated Yankee hat around which he had wound his queue. The peculiar means by which he prevented the last mentioned part of his costume from being blown off by the wind and rain attracted some little attention from the passers-by; but to jocose remarks and amused smiles he paid no heed.

Ah Lin was proceeding to a gambling resort, and his thoughts were not with the scenes and faces about him.

When he reached his destination, he slipped a key from out of his sleeve and admitted himself into a large low room furnished with a long table, a couch and some wooden chairs. Two men sat on the couch, and about a dozen were grouped around the table—all Chinamen. There was but one small window in the place, and the day being dull, the gloom of the room seemed to be made palpable and visible by the light of two oil lamps. On the window ledge was a pipe, a small lamp and a tiny porcelain cup full of jellified opium.

One of the Chinamen arose, took the pipe, dipped a pin into the opium, turned it around until a quantity of the sticky drug adhered to it, then inserted it into the pipe, held the pipe over the flame of the lamp, and drew two or three long breaths. Here was peace and a foretaste of oblivion—a vapor was seen to exhale out of his mouth and nose.

Ah Lin walked up to the smoker, and the two held a short confab.

“Well,” said Ah Lin at length, “I have fifty cents left; with twenty-five cents I can draw a lot, and with the balance I will see if I can win half a dollar on a red cord stick.”

“All right,” returned the smoker, “and I’ll do the same; but first let us worship the tiger.”

In a corner of the room on a small table stood a wooden image of a tiger with wings grasping an immense cash between its paws.

Ah Lin and Hom Lock lighted some sticks of incense and bowed themselves before the image—the Chinaman’s gambling god.Some one of those who were at the head of the centre table called to Ah Lin, and tried to prevail upon him to stake some money in a game which was played by means of a round board with a hole in the centre through which a slender stick was passed and fastened underneath to a larger board. The top piece of wood was designed to be moved around like a wheel; it was marked off into many parts upon which cabalistic figures were painted. Ah Lin had no inclination to spin the wheel, and turned to another man who sat near holding three sticks in his hand. Those three sticks were three lots; three ends projected outwards; three ends were grasped and hidden by the man’s hand, hanging down from which was a red tassel or string professedly attached to one of the sticks. The sport consisted in guessing which stick had the red string.

Ah Lin ventured twenty-five cents on one of the lots or sticks, but lost. The head gambler pocketed the twenty-five cents and Ah Lin moved silently away. If he had won he would have received his quarter back with another quarter added.

At the other end of the table was a deep earthen vessel, and around it were grouped the major part of the men in the room. One man was tying up small bundles containing sums of money from one cent up to twenty-five dollars. Each package was marked with a sign word. When his task was completed, the man cast all the bundles into the vessel, and in a loud voice announced that all who wished could cast lots and for twenty-five cents have the chance of making twenty-five dollars.

A number, including Ah Lin, paid twenty-five cents and marked their names on a list of signs. Then the vessel and its contents were shaken up. All in turn were then invited to take at hazard from its portentous belly, the parcel for which they had staked. As he opened his, Ah Lin’s face turned grey; it contained but one cent.

“What have you got?” asked Hom Lock, in an excited whisper, leaning over Ah Lin’s shoulder. “Just one cent, eh? Well, I have the twenty-five dollars—the Tiger favors me—he’s a great God.”

There was a crash; the lamps were knocked down and extinguished. Ah Lin had leapt across the table and was dragging the Gambling God around the room, striking it repeatedly with a stick.

“It’s a great God, isn’t it,” he yelled. “See how it likes to be insulted. Oh, it’s a big God.”

“It’s a great God,” shouted Hom Lock; there was a knife in his hand; he pressed close to Ah Lin.Ah Lin saw the knife, and something slipped from his sleeve and two knives gleamed—then disappeared.

Some one struck a light. The owner of the place picked up the fallen God and placed it on the table. It calmly looked down upon two dead men.

Sui Seen Far.

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