THE MONEY-GRUBBERS AT MONTE CARLO.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 144357, 23 March 1914, Page 8

THE MONEY-GRUBBERS AT MONTE CARLO.

By G. VALENTINE WILLIAMS. t Monte Carlo. * I have been striving to classify the 1 look which almost all the regular habi- * tues of the tables at Monte Carlo seem 3 to wear in common—an expression of 3 forlorn and rather puzzled contenipla- ■ tion. t Looking as some of the quaint scarecrows who sit for hours at the ! roulette table nibbling their pencil or making cabalistic signs on dirty sheets 3 of paper covered with ciphers, one has ■ no difficulty in believing the tales that 1 are told of some of those folk who como regularly lo Monte Carlo year after ' vear, take a cheap room for the season f in an unfashionable quarter of the ' town, and manage, by dint of careful, : systematised play, to live practically * for nothing in this delightful spot, and 5 often take away with them a little surpins as a bonus. lam not referring 3 to the wealthy folk for whom tho tables arc the principal attraction on their annual visits to Monto Carlo, hut to lho queer, frowsy customers, men and women, eccentric in their ways as in their clothes, of age and nationality alike indefinable, who occupy the bulk of the chairs at the tables all through the hours of play, staking continuously but seldom high. COMPLICATED CALCULATIONS. They are as full of tricks as a wag gon-lond of monkeys. One man, apparently a German, getting towards middle age. whose game is to follow series of red or black, when stakes are called for, selects with tho inmost de- | liberation two lonis tram the pile be- ] fore him, places them in their turn on - a five-franc piece so that Jus stake is : forty-five francs (why forty-live franca ! Heaven knows!’), neatly arranges the i little idle, then, with tlio rake, very : gently pushes it always to exactly the I same spot on the red or black square. | Whether lie wins or loses lie never | shows the least emotion nor does his stake vary, but when tho number is called he becomes absorbed in the most complicated calculations on long sheets of paper before him. Others keep tho 1 record of the numbers that turn up with such a variety of cryptic dots and dashes, asterisks. ‘ circles, and crosses that their notes look like the table of abbreviations at the beginning of a German railway guide. They ploy in profound silence. One would think they must, most of them, he acquainted with one another at least by sight, but they never seem to give the least sign of recognition among themselves. An invisible bond of sympathy seems to unite them with the croupiers, who deftly scoop their stakes, when they j fall short of their destined spot, into the desired position on the cloth, and invariably smooth away any iittio “breezes” which occasionally break out, THE HOUR BEEORE DINNER. It seems to me that the people who put their money on the green baize at the Casino of Monte Carlo fall into throe categories. There are the system plavers of whom I have just spoken, the Kazy players who come in for an hour or two and who know enough about tlio intricacies of the game to systematise their play to some extent, and, lastly, tho punters. One sees so many of the last class. They hover about .from tabic to table, risking a lout's hero and a lonis there, getting move and more crestfallen as their pockets empty, then, their last lonis gone. making a resolute bolt for the door. A caricaturist would find it well worth bis while to make some sketches of “Lcs Sorties dn Casino.” Tlio whole gamut of tho human emotions is to bo seen depicted on the faces of tlio people emerging from the swing doors into the brilliant Riviera sunshine. The Casino is always interesting, but I think its most attractive time is in the afternoon hours before dinner. When the sunshine begins to fail tho crowds which have been taking a leisurely after-luncheon stroll on the terrace of tho Casino, watching the pigeons falling to the “pop-pop” of the gnus at the Gun Club beneath, come flocking to the tables. The tronte-ot-qunrante table and additional roulette tables are thrown open, and attendants push their way through the throng bearing chandeliers of oil lamps which, hooked on to the heavy gilded chains suspended over each table, throw a yellow light on tlio impassive, mask-like laces of tho croupiers. It is astonishing how little talking there is among these hundreds of people; the chanting erv of the game is heard above all other sounds, and the rustle of feet and tho frou-frou of frocks pass almost unnoticed, AFTER THE CASINO IS CLOSED. Tho real pictnresquoness of gaming at Monte Carlo, however, 1 have found in the luxurious establishment whither it is the chic thing to proceed after the Casino is closed. Hero are the rich furniture, tho elegant surroundings, tho beautiful frocks, the hectic i atmosphere bred of high stakes, to meet , tho demand of tho most blase of Rakes as a setting for his “Progress.” Tho ' voice raised above a whisper is silenced . by reproachful glances, piles of golden j lonis, of large hundred-franc gold , pieces or flat green hundred-franc f counters and wads of pinkish-blue ] bank-notes are scattered over the smooth green baize, and there is a grim intensity about tho proceedings which acts like a tonic on jaded nerves. The croupiers are majestic and dignified, the , waiters soft-footed and discreet in , their movements; the band in the ad- ( joining supper-room is pianissimo. The j men are all in evening clothes, the 1 women in decollete, and I doubt if \ the bank could nay for even one or j two of the necklaces that glitter on , the necks of some of tho women round ( tho table. <