ion of this phrase
is an adventure which happened to myself.

It is the boast of the bloods of the town of Rackinsack, in Arkansas,
that they are born with skins like alligators, and with strength like
bears. They work hard, and they _play_ hard. Gaming is the recreation
most indulged in, and the gaming-houses of the western part of Arkansas
have branded it with an unenviable notoriety.

One dark summer night, I lounged, as a mere spectator, the different
rooms, watching the various games of hazard that were being played. Some
of the players seemed to have set their very souls upon the stakes;
their eyes were bloodshot, and fixed, from beneath their wrinkled brows,
on the table, as if their everlasting weal or woe depended there upon
the turning of the dice; while others--the finished blacklegs--assumed
an indifferent and careless look, though a kind of sardonic smile
playing round their lips, but too plainly revealed a sort of habitual
desperation. Three of the players looked the very counterparts of each
other, not only in face, but expression; both the physical and moral
likeness was indeed striking. The other player was a young man, a
stranger, whom they call a "green one," in this and many other parts of
the world. His eyes, his nose, his whole physiognomy, seemed to project,
and to be capable of growing even still longer.

"Fifty dollars more," he exclaimed, with a deep-drawn breath, as he
threw down the stake.

Each of his opponents turned up his cards coolly and confidently; but
the long-visaged hero laid his stake before them, and, to the
astonishment of the three professionals, won.

"Hurrah! the luck has turned, and I crow!" he cried out in an ecstasy,
and pocketed the cash.

The worthy trio smiled at this, and recommenced play. The _green_ young
man displayed a broad but silent grin at his good fortune, and often
took out his money to count it over, and see if each piece was good.

"Here are a hundred dollars more," cried the sylvan youth, "and I crow."

"I take them," said one of the trio. The youth won again, and "crowed"
louder this time than he did the first.

On went the game; stakes were lost and won. Gradually the rouleaus of
the "crower" dwindled down to a three or four of dollars, or so. It was
clear that the gentlemen in black had been luring him on by that best of
decoys, success at first.

"Let me see something for my money. Here's a stake of two dollars, and I
crow!" But he spoke now