luck of the cards was
not in favour of the smartest-looking players--an inducement to other
plain people to try a hand.

I began to feel sympathy for the elegant gentleman, his losses were so
severe. I could not help admiring the composure with which he bore
them.

At length he looked up, and scanned the faces of those who stood around.
He seemed desirous of giving up the play. His eye met mine. He said,
in a careless way--

"Perhaps, stranger, _you_ wish to take a hand? You may have my place if
you do. I have no luck. I could not win under any circumstances
to-night. I shall give up playing."

This appeal caused the rest of the players to turn their faces towards
me, and among others the pork-dealer. I expected an ebullition of anger
from this individual. I was disappointed. On the contrary, he hailed
me in a friendly tone.

"Hilloa, mister!" cried he, "I hope you an't miffed at me?"

"Not in the least," I replied.

"Fact, I meant no offence. Did think thar war a some 'un overboard.
Dog-gone me, if I didn't!"

"Oh! I have taken no offence," rejoined I; "to prove it, I ask you now
to drink with me."

The juleps and the late reaction from bitter thought had rendered me of
a jovial disposition. The free apology at once won my forgiveness.

"Good as wheat!" assented the pork-dealer. "I'm your man; but,
stranger, you must allow me to pay. You see, I've won a trifle here.
_My_ right to pay for the drinks."

"Oh! I have no objection."

"Well, then, let's all licker! _I_ stand drinks all round. What say
you, fellars?" A murmur of assent answered the interrogatory.

"Good!" continued the speaker. "Hyar, bar-keeper! drinks for the
crowd!"

And so saying, he of the white-hat and jeans coat stepped forward to the
bar, and placed a couple of dollars upon the counter. All who were near
followed him, shouting each out the name of the beverage most to his
liking in the various calls of "gin-sling", "cocktail", "cobbler,"
"julep", "brandy-smash," and such-like interesting mixtures.

In America men do not sit and sip their liquor, but drink standing.
_Running_, one might say--for, be it hot or cold, mixed or "neat," it is
gone in a gulp, and then the drinkers retire to their chairs to smoke,
chew, and wait for the fresh invitation, "Let's all licker!"

In a few seconds we had all liquored, and the players once more took
their seats around the table.

The gentleman who had proposed to me to bec