anything whatsoever from the person with
whom you play. In order to ratify the
convention which is established between the
parties at the commencement of a game, each
player takes by the end a morsel of straw, a
slip of paper, or even a blade of grass, which
is broken or torn in two between them, the
sacramental formula "Yadacé" being
pronounced at the same time. After this, the
law of the game is in full force. In some
cases, when one of the players imagines that
he has to deal with an inexperienced or
inattentive player, he immediately attempts to
catch him by presenting him with the piece
of straw or paper which has remained on his
side, under pretence of having it measured
against the other. Should the novice be
foolish enough to accept the fragment, the
terrible yadacé is forthwith thundered forth,
and the game is lost in the very outset. But
it rarely happens, save, perhaps, when one of
the players is a European, totally a stranger
to the traditions of the game, that any one is
found thoughtless enough to be caught in
this gross palpable trap. Much more
frequently a struggle of mutual astuteness,
caution, and circumspection begins, which is
prolonged for days, weeks, months, and, in
many cases, years.

As it is almost impossible that persons who
live habitually together should not sometimes
find it unavoidable to take something from
one another, it is agreed upon, in the yadacéan
hypothesis, that mutual acceptation may be
made of articles, on condition that before an
object is touched the person who accepts
should say to the person who offers, "Fi bali,"
or "Ala bali," literally, "with (or by) my
knowledge;" that is to say, I receive, with
knowledge of reception. It is also agreed
that all things appertaining to the body may
be received without prejudice to a state of
yadacé. The Moorish authorities mention
specially a kiss or a grasp of the hand, but
they say nothing of a blow. Perhaps they
think that with a Moslem such a gift could
never, under any circumstances, be received,
but must naturally be returned as soon as
given.

Yadacé may more properly be looked upon
as a game of forfeits than as one adapted to
gambling purposes; but the Algerines make
—or rather used to make—it subservient to
the good service of mammon to a tremendous
extent. Before the French conquest, in the
old times of the Dey and his jewelled fan,
with which he was wont to rap the fingers of
European consuls when they were impertinent
—when the Mussulman population of
Algiers was both numerous and wealthy,
yadacé was in the highest fashion: husbands
played at yadacé with their wives; brothers
with their sisters; friends among themselves
—and enormous sums were frequently won
and lost. Houses, gardens, farms, nay, whole
estates were often staked; and many a
wealthy Moslem saw his fortune depart from
him for having had the imprudence to accept
a pipe of tobacco, a cup of coffee, a morsel of
pilaff, without having pronounced the talismanic
words, "Fi bali." However, there
were many players at yadacé so cautious and
attentive, that they were enabled to continue
the mutual struggle for many years, in spite
of the most ingenious ruses, and the most
deeply-laid plots to trap one another. One
devoted amateur of yadacé, a venerable
Turk, carried his caution and determination
not to be taken in to such an extent, that he
never helped himself to a pinch of snuff, of
which he was immoderately fond, without
repeating to himself the formula, "Ala
bali!"

If, during the nights of the Ramadhan, you
happen to stroll into any of the Moorish
coffee-houses in Algiers, you will find yadacé
to be a favourite theme with the kawis, or
storytellers, and groups of attentive indigènes
listening to their animated narrations of feats
of intellectual dexterity in yadacé-players,
and hairbreadth escapes by flood and field in
that adventurous game. The majority of
these stories are quite untranslateable into
western language, and unsuitable for western
ears to hear. I think, however, I can find
two little anecdotes that will give you some
idea of the subtleties of yadacé.

Karamani-oglou, the son of Tehoka-oglou,
was a rich cloth-merchant of Algiers. Five
long years had Karamani-oglou been playing
at yadacé with his wife, but without success.
The wife of Karamani was young and
beautiful; but as yet Allah had not blessed their
union with children. Suddenly it occurred
to the cloth-merchant to make a pilgrimage
to the holy city of Mecca. He was absent
just two years and nine months; but you
must know that the pilgrimage was undertaken
purely with a view towards yadacé.
For the cunning Karamani reasoned within
himself thus: "When I return home after so
long an absence, my wife will be glad to see
me. She will have forgotten all about yadacé,
or at least will be thrown off her guard. She
will accept, I will wager my beard, a present
from her long-absent husband, particularly if
that present happens to be a diamond ring of
great value. Bismillah, we will see." Karamani-
oglou bought the ring—a most gorgeous
one—and returning safe and sound to Algiers,
entered the court-yard of his own house just
in the cool of the evening. Fathma, his wife,
was standing in the inner porch. She looked
younger and more beautiful than ever; but
she was dandling a sturdy, curly-headed little
boy, some two years old; and all at once a
golden arrow shot through the heart of the
cloth-merchant, and a silver voice cried,
"Karamani-oglou, you have a son!" The
delighted Mussulman rushed forward: his
face was bathed with tears of joy. "I have
a son!" he gasped. "You have, O Oglou!"
replied his blushing spouse. He held out his
arms for the precious burden ; he covered