250 pounds to 300 pounds a year is an ample sum for necessary first class chess competitions, but nothing like that has been raised under present auspices in this great Metropolis since 1883, or on the average for many years.  There are some who will buy chess books who would not care to play at least in a public room on any conditions; there are, on the other hand, some who drop their shillings freely at chess without the slightest instruction or improvement who would scorn to buy a chess book.  Even “California” who greatly desired to improve and apparently cared little about expense, and with his double or quits propensity in play would not deign to notice a chess book.  One said that this amateur possessed all the requisites of a loser playing very fastly, very badly and risking very rashly.  One morning about twelve before chess hours at the Cafe International, New York, whilst writing I was accosted by a tall and fashionable looking American whom I had seen once or twice before playing with Mackenzie or Mason, but had never spoken to.  “I see you are busy,” said he.  “It is not particularly pressing for the moment,” said I, placing my work aside.  He then commenced to interview me concerning Morphy, asking my opinion and description of him in every conceivable manner; Staunton, Buckle, Anderssen, Steinitz and Blackburne followed in rapid succession.  All things temporal have an end and a welcome pause came in this case.  Taking up a chess book lying by my side which happened to be a gilt copy of Chess Masterpieces, just out, he said, “How much might that book be?” “Oh! about a dollar,” said I. He replied, “I guess that’s a pretty tall book, but times are bad and I guess I cannot invest a dollar on that ere book.”  I found he was one of the non-purchasing class but had the gambling element.  “I will play you a game for a dollar if you will give me the odds of a Rook.”  “I cannot give it you,” said I, “but will try the Knight for the usual quarter.”  He would take nothing less than a Rook and for half-a-dollar, so I made the attempt and he seem’d to play far too well for the odds, kept his advantage for a time well and my prospects or the prospects of my half-dollar were not encouraging, the game toughened, however, and I got a passed Pawn.  It was as Monsieur would say “nothing,” but it seem’d to bother him immensely.  He brought four pieces to stop that poor little Pawn when one would have done, utterly ignoring the policy of economy of force, his game consequently got disarranged and he lost, after about an hour’s fighting, No. 1.  He proposed another, played wretchedly, and lost No. 2; worse and worse he played always wanting to increase his stake, but I remained true to the classics and would not deviate from the time-honoured stake.  As it was I had to draw seven dollars which my opponent parted with most pleasantly, asked me to have a cigar and a nerver, and said I was a wonderful player.  He felt that he had a fair look in.  Had he bought