e dice box produced, and the crowd drew round. "Number
one!--who holds number one?" inquired the keeper, arranging the paper,
and sucking the end of his pencil. A young gentleman in a blue jacket
and white trousers owned the lot, and, accordingly, led off the game.
The lottery-keeper handed the box, and put in the dice--rattle, rattle,
rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, plop, and lift up--"seven and four are
eleven"--"now again, if you please, sir," putting the dice into the
box--rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, plop, and
lift up--a loud laugh--"one and two make three"--the youth bit his
lips;--rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, plop--a
pause--and lift up--"threes!"--"six, three, and eleven, are twenty."
"Now who holds number two?--what lady or gentleman holds number two?
Pray, step forward!" The Sunflower drew near--Green looked confused--she
fixed her eye upon him, half in fear, half in entreaty--would he offer
to throw for her? No, by Jove, Green was not so green as all that came
to, and he let her shake herself. She threw twenty-two, thereby putting
an extinguisher on the boy, and raising Jemmy's chance considerably.
"Three" was held by a youngster in nankeen petticoats, who would
throw for himself, and shook the box violently enough to be heard at
Broadstairs. He scored nineteen, and, beginning to cry immediately, was
taken home. Green was next, and all eyes turned upon him, for he was a
noted hand. He advanced to the table with great sangfroid, and, turning
back the wrists of his coat, exhibited his beautiful sparkling paste
shirt buttons, and the elegant turn of his taper hand, the middle finger
of which was covered with massive rings. He took the box in a _neglige_
manner, and without condescending to shake it, slid the dice out upon
the table by a gentle sideway motion--"sixes!" cried all, and down the
marker put twelve. At the second throw, he adopted another mode. As soon
as the dice were in, he just chucked them up in the air like as many
halfpence, and down they came five and six--"eleven," said the marker.
With a look of triumph Green held the box for the third time, which he
just turned upside down, and lo, on uncovering, there stood two--"ones!"
A loud laugh burst forth, and Green looked confused. "I'm so glad!"
whispered a young lady, who had made an unsuccessful "set" at Jemmy the
previous season, in a tone loud enough for him to hear. "I hope he'll
lose," rejoined a fema