Life — February 14, 1884 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

VOL. I IL. FEBRUARY 14TH, 1884. NO. 59. 1155 Broapway, New York. Published every Thursday, $5 a year in advance, postage free, Single copies, 10 cents, Back numbers can be had by applying to this office. Vol. I., 20 cents per copy; Vol. II., at regular rates. THE editor begs to announce that he cannot undertake to re- turn rejected contributions. ‘OR three weeks, until last Saturday, the Thompson Street PoKER Civs had had no session. This was partly due to the fact that the proprietor of the building had sordidly closed the room and kicked Mr. Gus. JoHNsON, the treasurer, down stairs on learning that, owing to some inexplicable phenomenon not understood by the Club, the kitty had not yielded enough to pay for the kerosene, much less the rent. As a regular rake on two pairs and upward had been made, for a month, this delinquency amazed the Club. Various scien- tific theories were advanced, among them one involving a search of Mr, JouHNson’s private pockets and bootleg, but investigation had shown them to be false. An inspection of the table drawer was then made. It was shown that a knot-hole existed in the bottom thereof, large enough to admit of the insertion of two fingers or the abstraction of three dollars, which was the amount of the missing kitty. It was also demonstrated that the knot- hole had been in perihelion, so to speak, with Mr. TooTER WIL- LIAMS. Therefore, while it was clear that the money was hope- lessly gone, it was impossible to account for its absence upon any other theory than that offered by Mr. WILLIAMS himself that “de mice done smell dat las’ welch rahbit offen Mr. JoHNson’s fingahs on de bills, an’ run off wid it.” This explanation was received in lieu of a better; the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH paid the rent and assumed charge of the kitty until he should be reimbursed ; Mr. JOHNSON magnanimously forgave the gentle- man who had kicked him down-stairs. Mr. Toorer WILLIAMS expressed his belief in Mr. Jounson’s integrity as Treasurer, and all was again harmony. Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES, for a moderate percentage, had volunteered to steer his brother-in-law against the game, and, to use a technical expression, blow him in for all he was worth. The gentleman in question was a Hoboken barber with a steady income, a total ignorance of draw-poker, a child-like confidence and other advantages of mind and person which impressed Mr. Wiu1aMs favorably. The Rev. Mr. SMITH instructed the neophyte in those fund- | amental principles known as “coming in,” “straddling,” | “rising,” and ‘‘ sweetnin’ de jacker,” and by tacit consent he was allowed to win some small successive pots and thus got him- self into a glorious humor. Then Mr. WILLIAMS winked at Mr. Gus Jounson, and that gentlemen dealt. ‘S\Mr. WittiaMs had straddled the blind and the Rev. Mr. SirH straddled him. All came in, and drew three cards apiece except the stranger, Mr. HIGHLAND Ditsey, who only wanted one. Mr, WILLIAMS bet a dollar. Mr. SMITH raised him two. Professor Brick called, as did also Mr. WHIFFLEs. All eyes were upon Mr. Ditsey, and the silence was so profound that Mr. JOHNSON could hear his hair grow. “Does yo’ jess— jess call, Mistah Ditsey,” inquired Mr. WILLIAMS with a sweet smile, ‘‘ or does yo’ rise it?” Mr. Ditsey passed his cards in review, hesitated, and said : “Kin I rise it?” “Certainly,” replied Mr. WILLIAMS, who had a great deal of benevolence and also three kings. ‘‘ Rise it all yo’ want.” Thus encouraged, Mr. Ditsry raised the pot six dollars, Everybody breathed hard with suppressed excitement, and Mr. Jounson’s eyes might have served fora hat rack. Mr. WIL- LIAMS raised back and Mr. SMITH raised him. The others, ac- cording to previous agreement, fled. Mr. Diisey called. Whad yo’ got to beat two par?” he inquired. “ Ts sev'ral big, fat smilin’ kings any good?” asked Mr. Wit- LiaMs, kindly. ‘Kin a spade flisk, queen high, do nuffin?” queried the Rev. Mr. SMITH. **Shome up,” said Mr, Ditsey, apparently nursing his left foot. 2 Mr. WILLIAMs unfolded his private collection of royalty, and Mr. SMITH exhibited a panorama of spades which reflected great credit upon Mr. JoHNson’s dealing. “Ise sorry, Mistah Ditsey,” observed Mr. WILLIAMS. “Dad's de way wif cyards,” remarked the Rev. Mr. SMITH, sententiously. ‘‘ Gamblin’s onsartin.” Mr. Ditsey spoke not, but began to count up the pot. ““ Wha—whad yo’ doin’ wif de spondles?” asked Mr. WiL- LIAMS. “Leggo my pot !” commanded Mr. SMITH, Mr. Ditsey coolly rolled up the bills and inserted them in an abyss under his vest, and then swept the coppers and Mr. WuiFF Les’ plated watch chain into his pocket. > “ Look hyar, niggahs,” he said, in a tone which made Mr. Jounson feel like a refrigerator, ‘ I’se from Hoboken, an’ I'’se abarbah, When a Hoboken barbah comes ter Thoms’n street, he kerries his profession wif him. Ise got bofe boot legs an’ a hip pocket full er de implements ob de craff. Yo’ hear me?” All signified by silence that they heard. Then Mr. Ditsey laid down three jacks and a pair of sixes, and coldly jammed Mr. WuiFFLes’ hat down over his eyes and quitted the room. The Club sat striken for three minutes. Then the door slowly reopened and Mr. DiLsey’s voice sounded sepulchrally : “Dar’s no suckahs in Hoboken.” "With that, he vanished. comicbooks.com