They tell an anecdote of a 'cute Yankee, who won invariably and immensely at the game. There seemed to be a sort of magical or mesmeric attraction for the flies to his lump. At length it was ascertained that he touched the lump with his finger, after having smeared it with something that naturally and irresistibly attracts flies whenever they can get at it. I am told that this game is also played in England; if so, the parties must insist upon fresh lumps of sugar, and prevent all touching. The reader will probably ask--what next will gamblers think of betting on? But I can tell of a still more curious source of gambling infatuation. In the _Oxford Magazine_,(93) is the following statement:-- (93) Vol. V. 'A few days ago, as some sprigs of nobility were dining together at a tavern, they took the following conceit into their heads after dinner. One of them observing a maggot come from a filbert, which seemed to be uncommonly large, attempted to get it from his companion, who, not choosing to let it go, was immediately offered five guineas for it, which was accepted. He then proposed to run it against any other two maggots that could be produced at table. Matches were accordingly made, and these poor reptiles were the means of L500 being won and lost in a few minutes!' THE CRIMES OF AMERICAN GAMBLERS. Suicides, duels, and murders have frequently resulted from gambling here as elsewhere. Many of the duels in dark rooms originate in disputes at the gaming table. The combatants rush from play to an upper or adjoining room, and settle their difference with revolver-shots, often fatal to both. One of these was a serio-comic affair which is perhaps worth relating. Two players had a gambling dispute, and resolved to settle it in a dark room with pistols. The door was locked and one of them fired, but missed. On this the other exclaimed--'Now, you rascal, I'll finish you at my leisure.' He then began to search for his opponent. Three or four times he walked stealthily round the room--but all in vain--he could not find his man; he listened; he could not hear him breathe. What had become of him? 'Oh!' at length he exclaimed--'Now I've got you, you ---- sneak--here goes!' 'Hold! Hold!' cried a voice from the chimney, 'Don't fire! I'll pay you anything.--Do take away that ---- pistol.' In effect his adversary held the muzzle of his pistol close to the seat of honour as the fellow stood stuffed up the chimney! 'You'll pay, will you?' said the former; 'Very well--800 dollars--is 't a bargain?' 'Yes, yes!' gasped the voice in the chimney. 'Very well,' rejoined the tormentor, 'but just wait a bit; I must have a voucher. I'll just cut off the bottom of your breeches by way of voucher.' So saying he pulled out his knife and suited the action to the words. 'Now get down,' he said, 'and out with the money;' which was paid, when the above-named voucher was returned to the chimney-groper.