THE sun is slowly sinking in the west;
The balmy air floats lazily around;
The trees are rustling with a soothing sound:
Delicious peaches, blushing at the gaze
Of the warm sun-light's last departing rays,
Hide their red cheeks amid the foliage green,
Leaving their breasts of downy white half-seen,
While their rich lips in softest touches meet,
Each stealing from the other kisses sweet:
The pear-trees shower their fulness on the plain
In luscious drops of autumn's golden rain.
So let the memories which these scenes recall
Ripen in idleness, and thickly fall;
For twilight lulls each drowsy sense
In deep, delicious, dreamy indolence.

THOUGHTS, gushing like some fountain-stream,
As stars float up the heaven's deep blue,

The past comes back in swift review,
Bright pictures of the dear home band,

Far, far away, in Eastern land,

(One now walks Heaven's sapphire strand :)
Then let the day, so still and calm,

Die in a dreamy vesper psalm,

While o'er me comes the gushing joy
Which filled my spirit when a boy.

Mission Garden, Mission San José, Oct. 1857.

Kino:

OF THE CRESCENT CITY.

A MYSTIFICATION

BY CHARLES DESMARAIS GARDETTE.

I SPENT part of the winter of—in the city of New-Orleans for my health's sake.

My life there was generally monotonous and devoid of incident, as the life of a valetudinarian would naturally be—with one extraordinary exception: an adventure so strange, and even fearful, that if the reader will bear with my perchance tedious style of narration, I shall faithfully relate it herein, convinced that the matter will prove of interest to the curious and reflective, in spite of the faults of manner in its historian.

The Franco-American population of New-Orleans retain many curious customs and habits of their father (or rather mother) land, scarcely influenced by the lapse of time, the differences of the government and institutions under which, or the essentially antagonistic race among whom, they dwell, and of which they are properly part and parcel.

The tenacity with which they have adhered to their mothertongue, in the midst of the most intimate relations of every kind with a people of totally different speech, is one-perhaps the most curious instance of this.

Another is their peculiar mode of passing the Sabbath: with open bazaars, race-courses, theatres, and all the haunts of everyday life, buzzing in unison with the chimes of the church-going bells.'

They have also their special festal observances, religious and patriotic: their games, entertainments, social codes and habits, methods of educating their children, cooking, wines, hours of meals; ay, even their dress, the cut of their beards, and the fashion of their salutations-their 'yea and nay are all decidedly foreign, as well in the families whose living heads were born beneath the skies of France, as among those whose Frankish or Gallic ancestors sleep for three generations in the funereal vaults of the Crescent City.

I have said that their games are peculiar. There is one particularly, with which my story is intimately connected, that demands in consequence a special notice.

There is the game known, on a limited scale, by children every where in Christendom, as 'Loto;' but among the French Creoles of New-Orleans, played publicly for money (especially by the lower classes) under the name of Kino;' and the modus operandi of Kino being patent to my narrative, I beg the reader's indulgence while I attempt a description of the only establishment

of the kind I ever saw (?) (The reason of the interrogation will be seen anon.)

First, a long room, dirty, dimly lighted, and redolent of beer, tobacco-smoke, et id omne genus of associate odors, is furnished (?) with rows of common deal tables, (say eight feet by three each,) polished and grimy by constant use, placed up and down the apartment, so as to leave passage-ways around them, and having a backless bench screwed to the floor, (as are the tables also,) on either side of each.

About the centre of one of the lateral walls is stationed the counter and apparatus of the banker, consisting of a square table, divided into compartments for holding the pool,' the numbered Kino-balls, (of ivory,) the register, cards, etc., together with a large box of horn buttons for markers; and last, most important. of all, the pretty piece of mechanism by which the fiat of the fateful balls is governed.

This is a hollow globe of mahogany, revolving easily upon a horizontal axis, suspended upon two perpendicular poles, with a mouth-piece opening downward, (from motives of specific gravity,) contrived with a spring, which, pressed by the operator's finger, gives passage to a single ball at a time, dropping it into his dexterous hand. It has also another opening, on the trap-door principle, whereby the said balls are deposited within its cavity.

The thing is a most neat and graceful one, innocent of harm in general, I dare say; but to me, alas! it proved as full of unnumbered woes' as the Grecian horse did to the unsuspicious Trojans. The modus operandi is as follows: (I assume the reader's acquaintance with the prototype game of 'Loto :') Each guest on entering takes his seat at a table, and a Kino-card, for which he pays five, ten, or twenty cents, according to the size thereof. He may, on the same terms, increase his chances by taking as many cards as he chooses.

The money thus collected is put into the 'pool;' and when the concourse of guests is sufficient to make said pool' respectably remunerative, the game commences thus: Stop! I omitted to mention a general, generous, preliminary, and gratuitous distribution of buttons, by a satellite :

The banker places the ivory balls in the magic globe, shuts the 'trap,' and gives the machine a rapid rotary motion. For a few seconds it whirls swiftly round, till the momentum becoming less and less, it gradually comes to a stand-still, mouth downward, of course, when click! the operator touches the spring, catches the liberated ball, glances at its numeral, holds it aloft, and cries, first in French, then in English, Ten! Fifty!' or whatever may be the figures upon its circumference.

6

Instantly all eyes are upon the cards of their respective owners, and those who see a 'ten,' ' fifty,' or whatever it is, on the pasteboard beneath them, clap a button triumphantly over it. The banker, after sufficient pause, repeats the process of whirling, catching, and calling; the players follow suit with eye and button; and

so it continueth reciprocally, until a number is cried which finishes a row - all whose previous figures are buttoned over upon the card of some lucky individual, whereupon the lucky one raps the table loudly, and exclaims, 'Kino!' or, sometimes, to vary the monotony, Gagné!' which means won, and amounts to the same thing. The satellite immediately takes the champion's card to the banker, who examines it, compares it with his register, finds it correct, (that is, does, if he does,) and returns it to the victor, accompanied by the contents of the 'pool,' minus a small (?) percentage for the support of the establishment.'

Let me add that there is also a mysterious and invisible cavern somewhere in the most sombre corner of the apartment, whence divers and sundry glasses of many-tinted fluids are semi-continuously brought to a plurality of guests, by other satellites during the progress of things.

This is the entire poetry and mystery' of 'Kino.' Now for the mournful prose of my experience therewith.

Ir was a raw, drizzly night, and I sat, at about nine o'clock, in the office of the Saint Louis Hotel, with a fit of cerulean fiends, and the effects of a dose of sulph. morph., (given me by an old fool of a doctor-I beg the Faculty's pardon!- for a palpitation of the heart,) for company.

So I had sat, half-dozing for over one hour, until now an unwonted feeling of restlessness came upon me and very unwisely, no doubt, in a sanitary point of view, I seized my overcoat and hat, and went out, objectless, save to dissipate my ennui by a stroll in the keen night air.

·

I wandered up one street and down another in the old French quarter, without knowing or caring where I was, until the sound of a loud voice calling out in French, then in English, Forty-four!' followed by another replying, 'Gagné !' caused me to stop, and looking across the narrow street, I found myself opposite a 'Kino' establishment.

It was on the ground-floor of a low-eaved house, with a deep verandah in front, and though the night was chilly, the doors (they were large folding-doors) were flung back, leaving the entrance protected only by a huge blinded screen, which stood some six feet inside the room, (there was no hall,) giving free egress to the voices and exhalations from within.

A sudden whim prompted me to enter. I had never been in such a place, and felt at the moment, beside, a morbid desire for some excitement to rouse my torpid spirits; so I walked in, and looked round me.

The room and its furniture were such as I have described above, and at the moment of my entrance preparations were making for a new game.

Taking my seat at an unoccupied table in an extreme corner of the room, (which was scarce more than half-filled,) I called the

waiter, and asked for a card, at the same time taking out my portemonnaie to give him the requisite dime.

This porte-monnaie was a large one, of red morocco, bound with steel, heavily gilt, and contained several compartments for bills, as well as a small sack for specie, (excuse the apparent tediousness of detail, patient or impatient reader: you will see its relevancy anon,) all of which were full; for I had that morning drawn five hundred dollars in bills of various denominations, and had fifty dollars in silver and small gold therein beside.

In handling this porte-monnaie somewhat clumsily, owing to my semi-opiatic state, a roll of the bills fell out, and dropped from the bench to the floor, displaying their value partially as they unrolled in falling.

The civil waiter picked them carefully up, and returned them to me immediately, and, taking my dime, handed the card, a handful of buttons, and retired.

I placed the porte-monnaie in my right breast-pocket, inside my coat, and awaited the banker's first call, button in hand.

He called, 'Eleven!' I marked it! (how well I remember each number! their sequence upon my card was so remarkable !) Then Thirty-one!' I marked it; and on the same line! Then, Eighty!' another button, and on the same line again! Then, 'Forty-nine!' another mark, same line! Then, 'Three!' fifth mark, same line! Sixty-seven still another mark, still the same line! Twentyfive! a seventh button, upon the fated line again.

Here a momentary pause occurred, owing to a short conference between the banker and a newly-arrived guest.

I had been growing every moment aware of an increasing and strange fixity, if I may so term it, of physical sensation; (owing, no doubt, to that inf-doctor's sulph. morph., the first I had ever taken ;) a feeling of perfect inability to make a physical exertion, should it suddenly become necessary, and a sense of mental inertia, not stupidity nor drowsiness, but a sort of animal contentment with my position, an indifference to what was passing around me, though with entire cognizance of every thing, and intelligent interest in my card, upon which every number of the second line was now buttoned, save one; and I recollect thinking how extraordinary it would be if the banker should cry that number the very next time, yet thinking of it without the least anxiety or even wishfulness.

At this juncture the new guest sat down. The banker twirled the globe, caught the ball as it came to a stop, and cried, 'Fiftythree!'

It was my number, and with a very quiet tone and gesture, I said, 'Gagné.'

A murmur of momentary surprise died as suddenly away; my card was examined, proved correct, and the pool' (of about three dollars in small silver) was handed me. The usual recess of five or ten minutes succeeded, varied by libations and fresh pipe and cigar-lightings, and a new game commenced.

During this time, I kept the same card, and marked occasionally,