Later in my saunterings I went into a kind of restaurant, where I saw a number of Chinese men and boys playing cards and dominoes and dice. They went on with the games as if they were oblivious to us. I noticed there were Chinese coins of small value on the tables, and some of the players were apparently winning while others were losing. The latter, however, gave no indication that they were in the least degree disappointed. Of course, as a rule they play after their own fashion, having their own games and methods. Minister Wu, of Washington, when asked recently if he liked our American games, replied that he did not understand any of them. No doubt this is true of the majority of Chinamen in the United States. In thinking of the Chinese and gambling one always recalls Bret Harte's "Plain Language From Truthful James of Table Mountain," popularly known as "The Heathen Chinee," one of the best humorous poems in the English language. You can fairly see the merry eyes of the author of the "Argonauts of '49" dancing with pleasure as he describes the game of cards between "Truthful James," "Bill Nye" and "Ah Sin." "Which we had a small game, And Ah Sin took a hand; It was euchre: the same He did not understand; But he smiled as he sat by the table With a smile that was childlike and bland. "Yet the cards they were stacked In a way that I grieve, And my feelings were shocked At the state of Nye's sleeve, Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, And the same with intent to deceive. "But the hands that were played By that heathen Chinee, And the points that he made. Were quite frightful to see-- Till at last he put down the right bower, Which the same Nye had dealt unto me. "Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me: And he rose with a sigh, And said, 'Can this be? We are ruined by Chinee cheap labour'-- And he went for that heathen Chinee." There are all kinds of jugglers in Chinatown and among them are numerous fortune-tellers. This kind of pastime is as old as the human race, and you find the man who undertakes to reveal to you the secrets of the future among all peoples. The Orientals are always ready to listen to the "neby" or the necromancer or the fakir or the wandering minstrel, who improvises for you and sings for you the good things which are in store for you. We see this tendency among our own people who would have their destiny pointed out by means of a pack of cards, by the reading of the palm of the hand, in the grounds in the tea-cup, and by other signs. It was with some interest then that we glanced at the mystic words and signs which adorned the entrance to Sam Wong Yung's fortune-teller's place.