The rain that had caused the postponement of the carnival did not prevent us from leaving the hotel, however, and the entire party put in the day visiting the great gambling halls of Monte Carlo, which are today as famous on this side of the water as they are on the continent, and where the passion for gambling has ruined more people of both sexes than all of the other gambling hells of the world combined. A more beautiful spot than Monte Carlo it would be hard to imagine, the interior of the great gambling hall being handsomer than that of any theater or opera house that we had seen, and furnished in the most gorgeous manner. The work of the landscape gardener can here be seen at its best, no expense having been spared to make the grounds that surrounded the building devoted to games of chance the handsomest in the world. In its great halls one sees every sort and variety of people. Lords and Ladies, Princes and Princesses, Dukes and Duchesses, gamblers and courtesans, all find place at the table where the monotonous voices of the croupiers and the clinking of the little ivory ball are about the only sounds that break the silence. The majority of the members of our party tried their luck at the tables, as does everybody that goes to Monte Carlo, no matter how strongly they may condemn the practice when at home, and some of us were lucky enough to carry off some of the bank's money, Mr. Spalding, Mrs. Anson and myself among the number. There is as much of a fascination in watching the faces of the players around the tables as there is in following the chances of the game, and the regular habitues of the place can be spotted almost at the first glance. One day at Monte Carlo was quite enough for us and we were glad to get back to Nice and out of the way of temptation. The second day after we arrived at Nice the flower festival took place, and luckily the weather was almost perfect. All the morning for a distance of some twenty blocks the Avenue des Anglaise, where the battle of flowers is annually held, the decorators had been busy preparing for the event, and by afternoon decked in flowers and gaily-colored ribbons, bunting and flags, the scene that it presented was a brilliant one. By three o'clock it was crowded with elegant equipages filled with men, women and flowers, the two former pelting each other with blossoms to their heart's content, the spectators in the adjacent windows and on the sidewalks taking part in the mimic war. Conspicuous in the party was the Prince of Wales and his friends, among which were several of our fair countrywomen, the whole party distributing their flowers right and left with reckless-prodigality. The number of handsome women, the splendid street decorations, and the abundance of flowers that were scattered about in lavish profusion made a brilliant picture and one that it is not to be wondered that tourists journey from all parts of the continent to witness.