Judge — April 29, 1922 — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Drawn by Ganpxer O. REA. First Sorority Sister—I’m sorry I couldn’t have tea with you, dear; but, you see—er—I had a class. Second Sorority Sister—Yes, darling, I saw him: some class! community one pleasant autumn day an expressively dressed stranger repre- senting a lightning rod concern. He also sold fire insurance. Now that I think of it, the lightning rod on our house was a sort of bet with Provi- dence, and when we took out fire in- surance we were hedging the bet. This visiting stimulator of the gam- bling instinct stayed among us for some weeks, gradually winning a place in our highest social circle, namely, the one which gathered round the stove in the village post office. “It was one of my duties as a little boy to go regularly for the daily mail. My aunt preferred that I should not linger on the outskirts of that circle. But I gained the impression that even there the universal game of chance was played. “There was a sawdust box by the stove, and specimens of the ubiquitous household fly were wont to settle upon its rim. Our leading citizens would spare enough time from politi- cal discussion to select each for himself a particular fly and bet on which would fly away first. “It was into this circle that the stranger introduced a more elaborate game. The post- master found an empty paste- board box in the shoe depart- ment, just beyond the hardware counter of the post office. This he brought back and placed near the stove within the circle. Then, without overexertion on the part of anyone, a common or rural cockroach was captured. This was placed in the shoebox. Each citi- zen with his jackknife made a smail hole in the cover of the box, initialing the hole properly. A pool was then formed, the box was jiggled, and when the cockroach emerged through one of the holes the citizen who owned that hole took the pool. “This game superseded all other games, and as I afterwards learned from the gossip of the community, the friendly stranger after a few early losses became a consistent winner. The scandal spread throughout the vil- lage. Our leading deacon got into debt. The undertaker, who made quite an income from doctoring horses and cattle in the intervals of his regular business, had to mortgage the hearse. Then the storm broke. There “Betting which hole he would come through.” 3 was a noisy climax, and the stranger caught a freight train which was pass- ing through town at that moment, leaving a good hat behind him as the only negotiable asset. “It seems that it was his practice to hold the box, by right of being the originator of the game; and after the first few days he had regularly sub- stituted a trained cockroach for the one captured by the grocer’s boy. By a system of signals on the bottom of the box—a simple scratching with his thumbnail—he had lured the intelli- gent creature in any desired direction. It was only by accident that the trick was discovered, before still greater losses afflicted his dupes. A hurry call from a prospective lightning rod purchaser, just as the game was to commence, led the stranger to place the box on the floor for a moment while he left the circle. Every leading citizen present testifies to the fact that he saw the di- minutive but faithful insect hur- riedly leave the box, and with an affection quite as pathetic as it was unworthily bestowed fol- low his master the full length of the store, and wait for him on the front doorknob until the conversation was finished. The trick was exposed, of course, with the dramatic results indi- cated above. “Gambling?” said the Genial Philosopher after a pause— “yes, I have seen it in many subtle forms, and I doubt whether wecan evercompletelycrushit.”