morning's winnings,
but eight thousand francs to boot. I do not remember to have ever
seen the tables so crowded--outside it was thundering, lightening, and
raining as if the world were coming to an end, and the whole floating
population of Wiesbaden was driven into the Kursaal by the weather. A
roaring time of it had the bank; when play was over, about which time
the rain ceased, hundreds of hot and thirsty gamblers streamed out of
the reeking rooms to the glazed-in terrace, and the next hour, always
the pleasantest of the twenty-four here and in Hombourg--at Ems people
go straight from the tables to bed,--was devoted to animated chat and
unlimited sherry-cobbler; all the "events" of the day were passed in
review, experiences exchanged, and confessions made. Nobody had won; I
could not hear of a single great success--the bank had had it all its
own way, and most of the "lions," worsted in the fray, had evidently
made up their minds to "drown it in the bowl." The Russian detachment--a
very strong one this year--was especially hard hit; Spain and Italy were
both unusually low-spirited; and there was an extra solemnity about the
British Isles that told its own sad tale. Englishmen, when they have
lost more than they can afford, generally take it out of themselves in
surly, brooding self-reproach. Frenchmen give vent to their disgust and
annoyance by abusing the game and its myrmidons. You may hear them,
loud and savage, on the terrace, "Ah! le salle jeu! comment peut-on se
laisser eplucher par des brigands de la sorte! Tripot, infame, va! je
te donne ma malediction!" Italians, again, endeavour to conceal their
discomfiture under a flow of feverish gaiety. Germans utter one or two
"Gotts donnerwetterhimmelsapperment!" light up their cigars, drink a
dozen or so "hocks," and subside into their usual state of ponderous
cheerfulness. Russians betray no emotion whatever over their calamities,
save, perhaps, that they smoke those famous little 'Laferme' cigarettes
a trifle faster and more nervously than at other times; but they are
excellent winners and magnificent losers, only to be surpassed in either
respect by their old enemy the Turk, who is _facile princeps_ in the art
of hiding his feelings from the outer world.

'The great mass of visitors at Wiesbaden this season, as at Hombourg,
belong to the middle and lower middle classes, leavened by a very few
celebrities and persons of genuine distinction. There are a dozen or two