Life — July 17, 1884 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Ee i ae *- LIFE: GOOD LORD DELIVER US. s WENT to church and with my aunt Knelt where the richest people kneeled ; I listened to the rector’s chant Oft broken as the organ pealed— “Good Lord deliver us.” Stained glass, and gilt, and velvet stools, With many a saint in fresco work I saw, and thought (O fool of fools !) “ Of our plain, white-washed village kirk— Good Lord deliver us.” I whispered, “ Who is yonder man Gray-haired and praying so devout ?” Quick glanced my aunt, as woman can, And said, scarce turning head about, “Good Lord deliver us.” “ Director—bank !” she, whispered me ; “ Defaulted—millionedollars, dear— Heads every public charity.” 1 clutched my purse and gasped in fear, “Good Lord deliver us.” “But he, dear aunty, over there, Who worships with such pious look ; The one with apostolic air, Who chants so sweetly from his book— Good Lord deliver us ?” “Stock-broker, love—a Croesus, too— Appropriated funds, they say— He'd make a splendid catch for you.” I hid my country face to pray, “Good Lord deliver us.” I glanced around. There must be one Good.man amongst these wicked men. “Pray what has that fair Christian done?” If such a face knows thieving, then Good Lord deliver us. “He's no one, pet. I’m half afraid The fellow keeps a bucket-shop.” “ At least,” quoth I, “an honest trade.” My aunt quite out of place let drop, “Good Lord deliver us !” S. CONANT FOSTER. DIFFERENCE between the House of Lords and the House of Commons—all the difference between ability and nobility. Doctor (engaged six months after the death of his first wife, soliloguising over a letter)—* This is better. She ad- dresses me as ‘You dear, darling duck.’ My first wife used to speak of me as ‘ That nasty old quack.’” THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. SOME SAD EXPERIENCE WITH A CHUMP. Foe two hours, at the regular meeting of the Thompson street Poker Club, Saturday evening, there was ex- hibited what the lamented Mr. DELSARTE calls “suppressed power.” The only episode worth noting was when Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES accidentally managed to pull three tens to a pair of kings. When Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS then ran up against him with a maudlin bluff, he exhibited a strength of character and a stack of chips which made that gentleman wish he were dead. It was Mr. WHIFFLES’ deal when the Rev. Mr. THANK- FUL SMITH opened the first jack-pot, which he did with such a withering look as to lead crafty Mr. WILLIAMS to secretly size him up for about the queens required to open, Mr. GUS JOHNSON hadn't either queens or sense enough to stay out, so he came in on two trays and his last stack of chips. Professor BRICK was playing close to his third vest button, and concluded to lay down his one-end straight. Then all eyes naturally centered on Mr. WILLIAMS. The Rev. Mr. SMITH broke the silence. ‘“ Whad yo’ "flectin’ bout, Toor? ’Pears like yo’ haint gottum dis time?” A sniff was Mr. WILLIAMS’ only rejoinder. After two minutes more of delay, the Rev. Mr. SMITH shut his eyes, snored once or twice feebly, and sarcastically requested Mr. JOHNSON to “woke him when dat Toor done made up he mine.” This had the desired effect. Mr. WHIFFLES’ three nines looked very large, and as he was still suffering from the intoxication of his success with Mr. WILLIAMS, he promptly bounced the bet to the extent of two dollars. This filled the Rev. Mr. SMITH with the agonies of a dilemma. His practised eye had detected a dog’s ear on the top’ card in the pack, which signified his third queen. On the other hand Mr. WILLIAMS had the air of a man who was sitting behind a flush, and in case this was true, previous experiences had taught a third queen might be unpleasant. But Mr. SMITH’s warlike blood was up. He lifted Mr. WHIFFLES six dollars. If Mr. JOHNSON’s trays had suddenly become red-hot they could not have been dropped more quickly. Professor BRICK’S respiration was like that of a broken air brake. Mr. WILLIAMS assumed an expression of sad surprise : “Whad yo’ do dat risin’ on, BRER THANKFUL?” he in- quired softly. “ Quid yo’ triflin’ ’n call, ef yo’ wanter know,” said Mr. SMITH. Mr. WILLIAMS sighed, and called. Mr. WHIFFLES called, and took up the pack with a view of supplying the gentle- men with cards. “Gimme de top cyard,” said the Rev. Mr. SMITH, who had concluded to act like a two-pair man. “Gimme de nex’ cyard,” said Mr. WILLIAMS, with the half-sad air of a man who is laying low. Mr. WHIFFLES then helped himself to two cards. The Rev. Mr. SMITH led out with one chip. “T sees dat an’ rises it two dollahs,” said Mr. WILLIAMS. —— comicbooks.com