penalties it is advisable to exact: if they do so consult, they lose their right i.e., to demand any penalty; and if either of them, with or without consent of his partner, demand a penalty to which he is entitled, such decision is final." The argument, therefore is, that the decision is only final where the penalty demanded is one to which the claimant is entitled. If this Law were to be construed in its letter and not in its spirit, probably, most people would agree that it had special reference to "the option of two penalties." But if this were so, I know of no law which would deprive the adversaries of the right of exacting one penalty, if they consulted over that one penalty, and yet I presume, no Whist player would contend that he had a right to consult with his partner over one penalty. The spirit of the law is clearly against any consultation in the infliction of penalties.

Under this law, one party may act independently of the other in demanding a penalty to which he is entitled, or the partners may agree, apart from consultation, which of them may demand it. Now what is the meaning of the words, "to which he is entitled?" If they had been omitted from the law it would have been clear that the demand of any penalty was final, and that no other demand could be made by either partner. Does the presence of these words make any difference? I construe them to mean, a penalty which he is entitled to demand by the Laws of Whist. The Law does not say, a penalty to which he is entitled under the circumstances, but only to which he is entitled. This in my judgment, means a legal penalty, that is some penalty provided by the Laws of Whist, and if the penalty demanded is one which could be exacted for an offence at Whist, though not the one appropriate to the particular occasion, in my opinion such decision is final.

The following question seems to involve the same principle:-X. "A leads out of his turn the Ten of Trumps. X plays a winning card, and calls upon A to pass it has the penalty been paid, and can A take up his card?"

Yours, &c.,

FREDERIC H. LEWIS.

[The points involved in the two cases above referred to have caused much discussion during the last month, and the majority of the best players are of Mr. Lewis's opinion. Personally we had a different opinion. We thought that if a player called a penalty in any way recognised by the laws of Whist, although it was a penalty not recognised under the circumstances, then that this irregular call would be a bar to any other call, but if a player asked for a penalty ultra the laws, as if he said "Put sixpence into the poor box," this not being a Whist penalty, or if he said "Pass it," a penalty unknown in this form to the laws of Whist, we should have been inclined to say that the player in neither case asked for a penalty at all. But "pass it " may mean play your lowest, and if that be so, then a penalty has been demanded, and the card is released.—ED W. P.]

VICISSITUDES OF WHIST.

Lost a bumper in two deals, held one trump each hand, and cut out.

Cut in again-same partner-same seats-same cards. Won a bumper in two hands, and again held one trump each hand, King and Queen.

HOW TO PLAY POKER PROFITABLY.

[San Francisco Chronicle.]

First. Don't buy but half as many chips at the start as the other players. The expectation is that you will win, and if you lose it is better that you borrow or owe up."

Second. Never" ante up" until some one tells you to, and then say that you have, and stick to it, which will generally persuade some one else to "come in " twice. This rule, though an excellent one, must be followed with discretion. If practised too often it is liable to produce unpleasant feelings.

Third. Toward the end of the evening it is always better to "owe up" your ante "for a minute" than to "put up," as the winner of the pot frequently forgets to charge up the debt, and none of the other players will remind him, as they may wish to do the same thing.

Fourth. When the credit system begins to creep in, as it generally does about the middle of the game, you should "owe up" if possible, and bet chiefly against those who always "put up." This is one of the most important rules. To win in cash and lose on credit is the great secret of successful poker playing.

Fifth. In dealing, always observe the bottom card, which you can easily do before the cut. Then, by noticing how thick a cut is made, you can tell whether that card goes out. This may help you in that

draw.

Sixth. Keep a sharp eye on the discards.
Seventh. When you are "in luck," watch

They may be of service if your draw is not satisfactory. your opportunity from time to time to put some of your checks in your pocket without being seen. This will enable you to "owe up" if luck turns, and will prevent the others from borrowing from you.

Eighth. When any one wants to buy more checks and you have plenty get him to buy of you, if possible

in preference to the bank. It enables you to conceal the amount of your winnings, and besides the bank may not

be able to pay up.

Ninth. When you are chipping out" for drinks, etc., put a cigar in your pocket every once in a while. You are sure to be so much ahead of the game, and they come in very handy even when you don't smoke.

Tenth. Never permit anything to make you forget for a moment that the whole object of the game is to save your own money and secure somebody else's, and let everything you do, however trifling, tend to this desirable end.

Eleventh. When the game is over, if you are winner, deny it entirely or fix the figure as low as possible; if you are loser declare that you have lost twice as much as you really have. This rule is never departed from. The money lost at a game of poker always foots up four times as much as the money won.

Twelfth. When it is inconvenient to avoid paying your poker debts entirely, use discrimination in the matter. Debts to persons whom you are not likely to meet very often, you can avoid. Many players feel a delicacy about asking for a poker debt; these are safe ones not to pay.

SINGLE DUMMY.

The following suggestive letter on the subject of Single Dummy, from the pen of Mr. F. H. Lewis, we take from the Field of the 15th ult. :

SIR,-The above game has only a limited number of votaries in this country. It is much played in France under the name of "Le Mort," and in Germany under the name of "Der Blinde;" in fact, in the latter country, more especially in private society, it is preferred to whist; and it is no uncommon thing to find a fourth player cutting in in his turn, one of the players at the table of course being cut out for the time.

The capacity for the game involves mental qualities different from those exhibited at Whist. Whist, when scientifically played, is essentially a game of inferences, rapidly drawn, from adherence to recognised leads or enforced deviations; as, however, in Single Dummy one hand is open, the necessity for drawing inferences is obviated, and the play of both adversaries is determined accordingly as one or the other has the lead. The theory of the game is for one player to lead up to weakness, and the other to lead through the strength. The advantage which dummy's partner has consists in his knowledge of the combined power of himself and dummy. The disadvantage of the adversaries lies, per contra, in starting in ignorance of the power of each other. It is for this reason more especially that inferences cannot be drawn from the play on either side. Dummy's partner, who is under no responsibility to give dummy information, can constantly deceive the adversaries in relation to a suit in which dummy is weak, and dummy's right-hand adversary, except where there is a certain finesse upon the table, has only a limited power of finesse against dummy. I say "limited," because, where there is no certain finesse, he is only finesssing against his partner. The cross play of the adversaries in leading through strength and up to weakness, very frequently by the power of deception, which ought to be the strategy of dummy's partner, enables him to bring in a long suit, and deprives the adversaries of such opportunity. The adversaries are at this further disadvantage, that they may have the entire strength of the suit between them; in which dummy is weak; and, acting upon the theory of the game in not returning such suit, but leading through any possible strength, the element of time, which is so important at whist, is lost. I think, therefore, no reasonable man will deny that dummy's partner, with equal cards, has a manifest advantage, even against equal play. But Clay has written that, if dummy were to deal always, the advantage of dummy's partner would cease. If he had written "If dummy's hand were for the most part weak, he would have been nearer the truth. What presumption is there, in dealing out four packets of cards, that one hand is weaker than the other? Between equal players the odds are slightly in favour of the dealer, arising from the chance of turning an honour, and from the chance also of the possession of the thirteenth trump. The deal, therefore, qua deal, is another advantage to dummy, to be counterbalanced only, as far as dummy's hand is concerned, by manifest weakness in some suit. But if dummy has only average strength, say an honor in each suit, where is the disadvantage of the deal? where is the advantage of the adversary's lead? If it were a disadvantage for dummy to deal, it would be an advantage for the adversaries to allow him always to deal. Do you think, in practice, that the adversaries would consent to such a course? If they would not, it is because they see compensating advantages in dummy and his partner leading in their turn according to the deal. If dummy has to lead, he cannot lead from his strength in suits in which he can finesse, unless his partner has corresponding strength (in which event it would be immaterial who led), and he has to wait for the finesses; and if he leads from weakness, unless it be his partner's suit, or his partner has two honours in it, he has little chance of finessing, and may sacrifice the only good card his partner has in the suit. If dummy's partner leads to the strength of dummy, in a suit in which he himself is weak, he has to take the chance of his finesses coming off. The lead of dummy or his partner is, as most players know, sometimes ruinous, where with the same cards, the adversaries leading, the game might easily be saved-and this not only notwithstanding, but because of, the knowledge of their combined power, which makes it a necessity to save the game with such and such cards, and to lead for such purpose. But dummy may be strong, and dummy's righthand adversary may have to lead up to suits with ace, queen, or with ace, knave. A lead under such circumstances is a manifest disadvantage, increasing in proportion to the weakness of the hand of the leader. If these views are right, it seems to me to be clearly wrong to say that dummy's deal is a penalty, and that it is a manifest advantage to lead up to

dummy, and that the odds in dummy's favour would decrease if the right-hand adversary had always the lead at the comencement of the game. The lead at whist is utilised in the selection of a particular suit, played for its strength, and played in the hope of bringing it in. The lead up to dummy is determined by no such consideration and the adversaries lose the immediate power of the suit if their strength in it should be joint, by the non-return. From a consideration of all these points, it seems to me that in framing the law "dummy deals at the commencement of a rubber," the intention was, as the deal would be undoubtedly either with dummy or his partner, to give the lead, to start with, up to any possible weakness, rather than chance should determine that the lead should be more disadvantageously through any possible strength. FREDERIC H. Lewis. Temple.

DRAMATIC NOTES.

OUR Muse may well be able to sing the decline and possible fall of pantomime when it has proved a broken reed for Mr. Chatterton at Drury Lane. The abrupt closing of that establishment not only marks the end of a management which, though not meritorious from an artistic point of view. was very long-lived for Old Drury, but is also a sign that pantomime, on which Mr. Chatterton annually relied for his chief profits, is beginning to lose its magic power. The difficulties in which Mr. Chatterton was involved would no doubt have necessitated his giving up the theatre sooner or later; but had his pantomime enjoyed the same amount of success as those of past years the catastrophe might have been postponed. It has been said that the Drury Lane pantomime of this season was dull in story, shabbily mounted, that the Vokes' family were monotonous, and that in consequence the public would not patronise the theatre. We can easily believe that the pantomime was as bad and stupid as it was declared to be; but has the Covent Garden pantomime, which was gorgeous and expensive in the extreme, fared much better than that at Drury Lane? The Messrs. Gatti found it expedient to bring it to an end on the 22nd of February, and on the last nights members of benefit societies who held tickets for Drury Lane were allowed to use them for Covent Garden. This does not look like profitable business, and it is fair to assume that for the present, at least, pantomime has, in its own season, been outpaced in popularity by the Lyceum, Court, Prince of Wales', and other less important theatres. We fear, however, that it is the dulness and pointless business of pantomime that has palled the public taste, not its vulgarity and bad taste. With regard to Mr. Chatterton, although no true lover of the best interests of the stage can see matter for regret in his failure, it is only fair to him to note that he has conducted Drury Lane with some success for a longer period than any manager of recent years; that he has always been ready to lend his theatre for the cause of charity, and that he has never, so far as we know, prostituted it to the worst influences, as other managers have done at other theatres, with pecuniary profits. At the same time, it is idle to ascribe this failure to Shakespeare and the legitimate drama in general and to the short Shakespearian season of 1878 in particular. The amount of Mr. Chatterton's liabilities, stated at some £40,000, disposes at once of the last charge, and rather goes to show that seeing Shakespeare to be profitable elsewhere, Mr. Chatterton, in his despair, made a desperate but futile clutch at the bard to save himself from ruin. But to make Shakespeare successful at Drury Lane, a feat well nigh impossible, through no fault of the poet, it required something more than the services of Mr. Dillon, who has neither the talent nor the popularity necessary for the purpose. For the rest, Shakespeare and the legitimate drama have had very little to do with Mr. Chatterton's management throughout its whole course. Spectacular melodrama, in which the ballet master and the machinists were more prominent than the actors, has been the staple entertainment at Drury Lane for some years, and when occasionally a play of Shakespeare was produced, it was so vulgarised, as for instance in the case of Antony and Cleopatra, as to become identical with mere spectacle. In fact, Shakespeare, melodrama and pantomime, being all treated from one point of view at Drury Lane, became indistinguishable from each other, and in one and all, the principal figures were those of Mr. Beverley and Mr. Cormack. The future of this unfortunate theatre is dark and uncertain. We suppose that its name, fame, and past glory prevent it from becoming an institution after the fashion of the Alhambra, for which, perhaps, it is best adapted. That speculators think there is room for another Alhambra is clear from the fact that an establishment called the Alcazar, also in Leicester Square, is to be erected, and conducted on the same lines, with the latest " modern improvements," in the shape of restaurants, cafés, and billiard rooms.

The collapse of Drury Lane is not the only startling theatrical event of the past month, for we have also the announcement of the last weeks of Our Boys. In the case of a play that has had a continuous run for some years the last weeks may extend to months, but it is comforting to the habitual play-goer to reflect that there is a chance of seeing a new play at the Vaudeville. In addition, there has been produced a new melodrama at the Adelphi, with Mr. Vezin, Mr. Neville, and Miss Neilson in the cast; a melodrama at the Duke's of the most pronounced East-end type; and four farcical comedies at the Gaiety, Strand, Criterion, and Royalty respectively. Besides these novelties, there have been many afternoon performances of interest, and it is evident that what are called matinées at the theatres are rapidly becoming an established institution, and, in consequence of their success, will

be further developed. Already a daily afternoon theatre is established at the Aquarium, and if we may judge from the crowds of people that attend the various afternoon performances at the Court, Prince of Wales, Gaiety, Opera Comique, and other theatres, the time is not far distant when it will be found expedient and profitable to add another to the list. It is not, perhaps, surprising that, considering the immense extent of the suburbs of London, and their difficulty of access late at night, so many persons should prefer going to the theatre in the afternoon, but it is a matter of congratulation that the tastes of these play-goers seem to lie in the direction of the best sort of plays. She Stoops to Conquer, with Mrs. Stirling, Miss Litton, and Messrs. Brough, Farren, and Ryder in the chief characters is found to attract at the Aquarium, and The School for Scandal, The Love Chase, and such modern productions as Caste and The Crisis have been produced with success at other theatres. The eager interest of these afternoon play-goers extends to actors as well as plays, for it is surely rather to see Mr. Hare and the Kendals than that flimsy production, The Ladies' Battle, that the Court has been literally besieged for the last two Saturdays, to such an extent indeed that the shilling gallery has overflowed with the usual occupants of the higher-priced parts of the theatre. The Ladies' Battle, a play spread over three acts, with interest sufficient only for two, contains one character of strong interest which is well filled by Mrs. Kendal. For Mr. Hare and Mr. Kendal there is little opportunity to shine, though the latter increases his chance of being considered a successor to some extent to the late Mr. Matthews-a position which at one time the public were disposed to assign to Mr. Wyndham. The most noticeable point of the Court matinées is, however, as we have said, the audience itself, which, both by its quantity and quality, gives a plain hint to managers that the afternoon performance system is capable of being worked to much advantage. Now that the principal plays of the the evening are made to begin so late by the fashionable dinner hour of the period, it is not only the suburban playgoer that will prefer to take his pleasure in the afternoon.

The opinion that we have expressed, that the failure of pantomime is due rather to its stupidity and dullness. than to any defects in morality and taste, is strengthened when we regard the favour, more or less strong, with which the novelties of the past month have been received. Here are four plays, two of French, one of American, and one of native parentage, styled by their authors and adapters farcical comedies, but really farces, all in three acts when they should be in one, or at most two, all possessing plots so thin that, when beaten out into three acts, they become attenuated into nothing, and three out of the four dealing with the trite subject of marital peccadilloes. Of course we do not expect plays of the class of Caste, Our Boys, and the Crisis, or musical extravaganzas like Pinafore, to be produced every month; but it is a little unfortunate that such trivialities as Truth, the Snowball, A Gay Deceiver, and Uncle should all occur within a few weeks of each other. There are, however, circumstances in connection with three of these plays, which diminish their importance, for the Snowball at the Strand, and Uncle at the Gaiety, fulfil their mission when they have "played in" the audience for Baby and Fra Diavolo, whilst A Gay Deceiver at the Royalty is modestly and fitly presented at half-price. Truth at the Criterion is the main attraction of the evening, and when we consider the play itself, its shortness, and the late hour at which it begins, we are impelled to the conclusion that the Criterion is the most expensive theatre, and the Criterion audience the most foolish, and the lowest in the scale of intelligence, in London. The play, taken literally, is perfectly harmless, and relates to the adventures of four men, who have been secretly to a public fancy ball, to the discovery of this fact by a mother-in-law, who reveals it to the wives and fianceès of the men, and to the lies told by these latter to disguise the truth. There is nothing in this to please and interest, and little to offend, but the Criterion audience, which consists largely of persons of the female sex, is resolved to discover double entendre where it does not exist, and to see something behind the plot, to believe, in fact, that the men in the play have really done something worse than what they confess to in the end. The management, on its side, knowing the aptitude of its audience to discover something in nothing, provides dialogue, which might, but does not, possess double entendre, and so both parties are satisfied. Truth is a tract compared with Pink Dominoes, and what little dialogue there is of the sort we have described, is, oddly enough, put into the mouth of the estimable Mrs. Stephens, who has never before assisted in such a prostitution of her art. In The Snowball, at the Strand, which is humorously written, but which belies its name by growing smaller and thinner as it rolls on, we are fortunately confined to the doings of one married couple, and this is also, happily, the case at the Royalty; whilst in Uncle at the Gaiety we are not called upon to witness the infidelities or truancies of a husband and wife, but only their sufferings in attempting to hide their marriage from a cruel uncle. Looking at these four farces in the bulk, there is no reason to raise an outcry over their flimsiness and occasional bad taste, for there is plenty of good entertainment at other theatres, and they are not all of them the principal features of the programmes of the various theatres at which they are produced. And there is one good point common to all of them, for they are very well acted. There is an amount of good acting wasted over these plays that would be better employed with better material. Mr. Vernon and Miss Venne, at the Strand; Messrs Terry and Royce, at the Gaiety; Mr. Boyne, Miss Fowler and Miss Meyrick, at the Royalty; and the whole company, headed by Mr. Wyndham, at the Criterion, one and all display acting far superior to the the stuff they are called upon to perform. Thus further proof is afforded, if further proof is needed, that at the present moment, our actors beat the authors out of the field, and only require good plays to be forthcoming to give them adequate representation.

CORRESPONDENTS.