A certain high military character sat down to play with a Russian prince, who introduced loaded dice. The travelled Englishman lost every bet; for the Russian never missed his seven or eleven, and modestly threw only ten times. The supposed pigeon then took up the box with fair dice; and, having learned to 'secure,'(33) called different mains at pleasure; threw sixteen times; won all the aristocrat's money, and wished him good night. Such is the effect of not knowing your man!

(33) This term means making sure of what you throw.

A BLIND GAMESTER.

John Metcalfe, much better known by the nickname of blind Jack of Knaresborough, was a celebrity at Harrowgate during the first quarter of the present century. This extraordinary man had been deprived of his eyesight at so early a period that he retained no idea of either light or vision; but his remaining faculties were so actively employed that few persons in the full enjoyment of sight have surpassed him in the execution of undertakings, which seemed particularly to require the exercise of that faculty. He traversed the neighbourhood without a guide or companion; surveyed tracts of country to plan and lay down roads, where none had ever been before; contracted for the building of bridges, and fulfilled his contracts without the assistance of another person, either as architect or superintendent of the work; became a guide to those who, possessing sight, could not find their way across the neighbouring moors when covered with deep falls of snow and impenetrable fogs; rode well, and followed the hounds with a zeal and spirit equal to that of the most dashing horseman in the field, and, finally, played at many games of chance, or skill, with a knowledge and ingenuity that enabled him to come off victorious in many contests with persons eager to try his ability or to prove their own.

Such a man was sure to attract notice in any place or neighbourhood, but particularly at a place of general resort. Besides, he possessed a facetious mode of talking, and on several occasions exercised a practical sort of wit, which was equally certain of gaining patronage. Visitors of the highest rank treated him with kindness, and even familiarity; and as he never forgot himself, or trespassed upon those who thus favoured him, he continued in fashion as long as he lived, and terminated his singular career at more than 80 years of age.

Among his many exploits was the following. Various trials of his skill and activity were proposed by gentlemen who offered to support their opinions with their money. But Metcalfe had a determination of his own, and refused taking a share in any of the ingenious proposals urged upon him, until a country squire, the Nimrod of a neighbouring district, submitted a plan which he expected would baffle all his manoeuvres. He asked the blind man if he was willing to run 100 yards against his favourite mare. The offer was immediately accepted—provided he might CHOOSE THE GROUND, which should be an open space on the adjoining moor. The stakes were deposited the same evening; and a fine level space being selected, and the distance marked out with great exactness early the following morning, the decision followed with little delay. The party selected to ride against the blind man was much admired for his horsemanship; and at the appointed time, every preparation being completed, the signal was given and the race commenced. The horseman was instantly far ahead, but before he could finish his stipulated distance the fore feet of his hunter sank deep in a bog, from which, being unable to extricate them, he came completely over, treating his rider with a tremendous somerset. The loud shouts of the spectators announced to the blind man that his expectations were realized. The turf showed no apparent difference, and was sufficiently strong to carry a man with safety,—perhaps it would have borne a horse going only at a moderate pace, but at full speed his feet pierced the sod, and entangled him in the hidden danger. Metcalfe passed his extended rival, terminated his career, and won the race before those who had run to the prostrate horseman could render him any assistance. Indeed, it was too late for that purpose, he had finished his earthly course having ruptured a vessel near the heart in his fall!

A NOBLE LORD AND A COMMONER, IN 1823.

A young and wealthy commoner, who seemed to vie with the pea-green in the desperate folly of getting rid of a suddenly obtained fortune of L130,000 in ready money, as fast as possible, and whose relish for the society of legs, bullies, and fighting men was equally notorious, went to the Fishmonger's Hall Club late one morning, much flushed with wine. The well-lighted avenues directed him to the French Hazard table. There was no play going on at the time, but at the entrance of this PIGEON, who before had been DRAWN of a good round sum, the box and dice were soon put in motion, and 'seven's the main, seven,' was promptly the cry. A certain noble lord, who had been for years an experienced NURSE of the dice, and who knew how to NICK the MAINS or THROW CRABS, as well as the best leg in England, held the bow. The commoner commenced by backing the noble lord IN. The noble lord threw OUT. He then backed the noble lord OUT, and the noble lord threw in. He backed the noble lord OUT again, who threw five to the main. The commoner betted the odds deeply at the rate of three to two. The noble lord threw the FIVE. The commoner, uneasy, changed about, and backed the noble lord IN for a large stake,—the noble lord then threw OUT. The commoner now rose in a rage, and insinuated broadly that he was cheated, robbed, and it could not be fair play. Of course much indignation was shown by the noble lord, and it was with difficulty that a fight was prevented; but his lordship, nevertheless, condescended to demonstrate that he played his own money at the time, and what he lost found its way into the bank, with which 'he was not at all connected.' This reasoning satisfied the suspicious young commoner (poor easy man!); an apology was given; and peace was restored.

DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.

A party of players were assembled to throw for a stake, which was enormous. It was, however, agreed that the LOWEST throw should win. The players threw until one of them turned up two aces. All but one had thrown, and shouts of applause greeted the lucky caster, when the last who was to throw exclaimed—'Hold! I'll try and beat that.' . . .