hat earlier period--though perhaps from concentration of
another kind. People staked and lost their last dollar with a calm
solemnity and a resignation that was almost Christian. The oaths,
exclamations, and feverish interruptions which often characterized more
dignified assemblies were absent here. There was no room for the lesser
vices; there was little or no drunkenness; the gaudily dressed and
painted women who presided over the wheels of fortune or performed on
the harp and piano attracted no attention from those ascetic players.
The man who had won ten thousand dollars and the man who had lost
everything rose from the table with equal silence and imperturbability.
I never witnessed any tragic sequel to those losses; I never heard of
any suicide on account of them. Neither can I recall any quarrel or
murder directly attributable to this kind of gambling. It must be
remembered that these public games were chiefly rouge et noir, monte,
faro, or roulette, in which the antagonist was Fate, Chance, Method, or
the impersonal "bank," which was supposed to represent them all; there
was no individual opposition or rivalry; nobody challenged the decision
of the "croupier," or dealer.

I remember a conversation at the door of one saloon which was as
characteristic for its brevity as it was a type of the prevailing
stoicism. "Hello!" said a departing miner, as he recognized a brother
miner coming in, "when did you come down?" "This morning," was the
reply. "Made a strike on the bar?" suggested the first speaker. "You
bet!" said the other, and passed in. I chanced an hour later to be at
the same place as they met again--their relative positions changed.
"Hello! Whar now?" said the incomer. "Back to the bar." "Cleaned out?"
"You bet!" Not a word more explained a common situation.

My first youthful experience at those tables was an accidental one.
I was watching roulette one evening, intensely absorbed in the mere
movement of the players. Either they were so preoccupied with the game,
or I was really older looking than my actual years, but a bystander laid
his hand familiarly on my shoulder, and said, as to an ordinary habitue,
"Ef you're not chippin' in yourself, pardner, s'pose you give ME a
show." Now I honestly believe that up to that moment I had no intention,
nor even a desire, to try my own fortune. But in the embarrassment of
the sudden address I put my hand in my pocket, drew out a coin, and laid
it, with an attempt at