The Animal Game, inextinguishable

The jogo do bicho (animal lottery), strictly speaking, began with the flowers. This was more or less at the beginning of Floriano's government, whose austerity and energy compromised with the gamblers so that there would be more peace for an administration concerned, above all, with public order.
Floriano understood that while the game was being played, there was no need to plot.
A certain Manuel Ismael Zevala, a Mexican citizen, appeared here in 1892 with a flower game. He himself ran it, in an upper floor of a building on Ouvidor Street. It seems that the success was not great. Zevala, who knew Baron Drummond, sought him out. The baron – João Batista Viana Drummond – a friend of Dom Pedro II, had created the Zoological Garden here, on land he owned in the Vila Isabel neighborhood. The monarch gave him a subsidy, since the Garden had been open to the public since 1888. The imperial aid was 10 contos per year. But in 1889 the Republic came and the subsidy was cut. The baron, with his personal fortune invested in the animals of the Garden, found himself in a very difficult financial crisis. It was then that Zevala told him of the advisability of replacing the flower game, then with precarious business, with the animal game. At the beginning of 1893, the season began. Each visitor to the Garden, upon purchasing an entrance ticket, received a ticket with an animal indicated on it, which signified the possibility of a prize twenty times greater than the sum spent on the ticket. Each ticket cost one thousand réis, and the visitor was in a position to win twenty thousand réis.
The game was simple. There was a huge painting hoisted on a mast planted at the foot of the garden gate. On that painting, in figure and name, was the animal drawn and colored that was the winner, rigorously covered by a blindfold. That's how it was during the day. The blindfold was locked. Honesty came first. The painting of surprise was inviolable. In the afternoon, before the crowd of curious onlookers and gamblers, the secret was revealed. In a few hours, the ingenious invention channeled money in abundance into the pockets of the baron and the Mexican. The game lasted, becoming increasingly profitable, until the police decided to prohibit it. As entertainment, it was doing well. As an exploitation of vice, it urgently needed to end. But it didn't end. It had its vacation. At the dawn of this century, with the audacious surge of lotteries, the jogo do bicho (animal game) became associated with them. It is no longer the baron's painting, nor the fauna of his park that attracts. The game thrills the city. The rich, the middle class, the poor play, bosses and employees alike. The game is commonplace, but it's also mundane within the social mechanism. Everyone offers their opinions. Some are absurd and unbelievable. Newspapers maintain specialized sections. The most extravagant resources are used. The game has taken over society. Mascote, a daily newspaper, both news and literature, was its official organ.
At José do Patrocínio's funeral, at dusk, there was a large gathering and many speakers addressed the graveside of the journalist-tribune of the Abolitionist movement. Among those present was the poet Guimarães Passos, a close friend of the deceased and his former assistant in Rio de Janeiro. Patrocínio was known for being late in paying his editors and reporters. Guimarães Passos, one of them, found himself owing tens of thousands of réis to the deceased. He was the last to leave the cemetery, not without carefully noting the grave number. The following morning, Guimarães Passos played the numbers (thousands, hundreds, tens, and groups) in the thousands, hundreds, tens, and groups. He surrounded the lottery from all sides. He won. For him, an inveterate bohemian always plagued by debt and need, what he received was a small fortune. With his pockets full of money, already drunk, he ran to José Mariano's notary office and told the illustrious parliamentarian, liberal leader and abolitionist figure, who had also been at the funeral, how his happiness had come about. The cemetery deserted, he approached Patrocínio's tomb and made a plea to him. “Oh! Zé do Pato, my friend! You, who for so many years asked me for work without paying me, give me your prediction for tomorrow's lottery. Have pity on me, for I have never failed you!”
Suddenly, as if moved by a hidden force, he fixed his gaze on the number engraved on the tombstone. Nervously, he copied it. All night, without sleeping, he spent his time thinking, wandering the streets and drinking. He played the game the next morning. He hit the jackpot. He was embracing José Mariano, dancing with joy in the registry office.
The animal, prosperous, opulent, and radiant with prestige, unfolded. It multiplied. Within a single game system, the systems multiplied. One played in the Old, the Modern, the Salted, the Rio, the American Agave, the Buraco, the Charity, the Popular, the Elephant, the Modern Lotto, the Nascente, the Ocidente, the Carioca, the Garantia, the Ajuda de Nossa Senhora, the Talisman, etc. etc.
The police had periods of absolute tolerance and periods of relentless persecution. The periods of tolerance were lean times. The police were bored. The periods of persecution, however, were times of plenty. Persecution was a sure, infallible way to extort money from the illegal gambling operators.
Once, the delegate of the 14th Police District was Dr. Parreiras Horta, a poor man, somewhat of a philosopher, eternally dressed in his worn black frock coat. The Chief of Police was Leôni Ramos, who would later become a minister of the Supreme Federal Court. Parreiras Horta, a stern authority, whose goatee, marked by a gruff demeanor, added even more seriousness, had filed a report in the office for the illegal gambling operation known as "jogo do bicho." Hours later, he was summoned to the chief's office. He went. Leôni Ramos made him see that the offender was a friend and close associate of a congressman who was a relative of the future President of the Republic, already elected. This congressman, a person he did not wish to displease, was working to have the report dismissed.
Parreiras Horta remained unperturbed, agreeing:
– It's easy for Your Excellency to order the arrest warrant to be torn up. Appoint my replacement immediately, because I'm no longer the delegate.
Leôni Ramos was startled. He hadn't expected that. And he responded politely, trying to reconcile: – No, that's not the case. On the contrary. You deserve all the trust.
"Yes," Parreiras Horta calmly summarized, before saying goodbye and leaving. "I know. But you no longer deserve my trust."
He resigned from his post.
There were bookmakers who achieved remarkable success. They became rich. They traded the numbers game for other businesses. Some even became wealthy gentlemen with high social standing.
In 1915 or 1916, Senator Érico Coelho, a man of talent and originality, wanted to legalize the jogo do bicho (a Brazilian lottery game). He studied the problem thoroughly. He discovered the origins of this game in Cambodge. He presented a bill to the Senate regarding it. Érico argued that if one could bet on the hooves of only one of the twenty-five animals, the horse, it was natural and coherent to bet on the other twenty-four, since the horse was no more noble, nor more useful to man than, for example, the dog, the donkey, the bull, the sheep, the pig, the rooster, the turkey, and the cow.
Erico's bill stalled in the Senate. When he was a congressman some time before, he had presented another one to establish divorce. That too was shelved in the Chamber of Deputies.
The congressman's projects were unlucky. And the numbers game is no different. Let's find out what the project number was?
(1951)
(BANDEIRA, Manuel; ANDRADE, Carlos Drummond de. Rio de Janeiro in prose and verse)
THE LIZARDS OF THE ANIMAL GAME
We all know these improvised pastoral challenges in a line or point called "calangos," which have even invaded national radio.
For the sake of curiosity, we will transcribe two lizards from the popular jogo do bicho (animal game), collected in Divisa, Guaçuí, Espírito Santo, by Miguel Rodrigues Faria.
They belong to the 'ão' and 'ado' lines.
1nd Lizard
Number 1 is the ostrich.
The collection has begun.
Number 2 is the eagle,
That which taps its beak on the ground.
Number 3 is the donkey.
That which walks beneath the top.
Number 4 is the butterfly,
That flies and brings summer.
Number 5 is the dog,
Which brought the name of dog.
Number 6 is the goat,
That gives milk to the pagans.
Number 7 is the ram,
That provides wool for the mattress.
Number 8 is the camel,
A creature that walks with a thumping gait.
Number 9 is the snake,
The cursed beast.
Number 10 is the rabbit,
That's what fools a good dog.
Number 11 is the horse,
The one who gives a saddle to the boss.
Number 12 is the elephant.
That the trunk drags on the ground.
Number 13 is the rooster,
That has a crest and a spur.
Number 14 is the cat,
That which catches rats by treachery.
Number 15 is the alligator.
That beats the drums in the back of the room.
16 is the number of the king of the animals.
What is Lion?
17 is the monkey,
Jumping from one place to another.
Number 18 is the pig,
That which cooks in a cauldron.
Number 19 is the peacock.
A creature full of sprapão [rough skin on the foot].
Number 20 is the turkey,
That which is called in the function.
Number 21 is the bull,
That pulls cars and trailers.
Number 22 is the tiger.
The one who slaps and hides their hand.
Number 23 is the bear,
Someone who plays games to earn a penny.
Number 24 is the deer,
Who lives on the plateau.
Number 25 is the cow,
And that's the end of the collection.
2nd Lizard
1 is the ostrich,
The numbered game has begun.
2 is the eagle,
Creature with a turned-up beak.
3 is the donkey,
That accepts saddle and punch.
4 is the butterfly,
That flies in the Cerrado.
5 is the dog,
The king of well-behaved animals.
6 is the goat,
That gives milk to the poor things.
7 is the ram,
That provides wool for the quilt.
8 is the camel,
Having a hunched back.
9 is the snake,
Cursed beast.
10 is the rabbit,
That's a suspicious creature.
11 is the horse,
That which does not walk unshod.
12 is the elephant,
Sleeping leaning against a tree trunk.
13 is the rooster,
That sings while perched.
14 is the cat,
That catches the rat in a tight spot.
15 is the alligator,
That which lives in both dry and wet conditions.
16 is the Lion,
King of the animals, respected.
17 is the monkey,
That which jumps from branch to branch (or from one branch to another).
18 is the pig,
That provides lard for the market.
19 is the peacock,
Having rough, calloused feet [rough skin].
20 is the turkey,
Which is separate on the table.
21 is the bull,
He's trapped in the enclosure.
22 is the tiger,
Mean-looking creature.
23 is the bear,
Someone who plays games to earn a few coins.
24 is the deer,
Who lives in the Cerrado.
25 is the cow,
And that's the end of the numbered section.
In addition to these, there are several other lines.
It should be noted that before each number the caller says very seriously No. 1, No. 2, etc.
Also worthy of note are the observations made about animals foreign to our fauna: the camel, an animal that walks with a hunched back… the elephant, whose trunk drags on the ground… the lion, the respected king of animals… the peacock, which has calloused feet, that is, rough skin… the bear that plays to earn a penny, perhaps an allusion to the bears that dance in circuses.
As a final note, I want to clarify that we had already heard these two songs adapted for the radio, but without the simplicity of the songs sung by the people.
This is because these games serve to liven up the parish's religious festivals, where a raffle is held using a 25-number roulette wheel, which has adapted to the promotion of the popular yet persecuted jogo do bicho (animal game), of very noble origin…
[1949] (PACHECO, Renato José Costa. Folklore, November and December 1949)