of a friendly contest, which he feels very much like having
one, since he can be pushed just so far; but Cora says gambling has
brutalized him.

Then she sees the cards on the table and asks again about this game
where you play cards with yourself and mebbe win a thousand dollars
cold. She wants to know if you actually get the thousand in cash, and
Egbert says:

"Sure! A thousand that any bank in town would accept at par."

She picks up the deck and almost falls, but thinks better of it.

"Could I play with my own cards?" she wants to know, looking suspicious
at these. Egbert says she sure can. "And in my own home?" asks Cora.

"Your own house or any place else," says Egbert, "and any hour of the
day or night. Just call me up when you feel lucky."

"We could embellish our little nook with many needful things," says
Cora. "A thousand dollars spent sensibly would do marvels." But after
fiddling a bit more with the cards she laid 'em down with a pitiful
sigh.

Cousin Egbert just looked at her, then looked away quick, as if he
couldn't stand it any more, and says: "War is certainly what that man
Sherman said it was."

Then he watches Sandy Sawtelle cashing in his chips and is kind of
figuring up his total losses; so I can't resist handing him another.

"I don't know what us Mes-dames would of done without your master mind,"
I says; "and yet I'd hate to be a Belgian with the tobacco habit and
have to depend on you to gratify it."

"Well," he answers, very mad, "I don't see so many of 'em getting
tobacco heart with the proceeds of your fancy truck out in them booths
either!"

"Don't you indeed?" I says, and just at the right moment, too. "Then you
better take another look or get your eyes fixed or something."

For just then Sandy stands up on a chair and says:

"Ladies and gents, a big pile of valuable presents is piled just at the
right of the main entrance as you go out, and I hope you will one and
all accept same with the welcome compliments of me and old Jerry, that I
had to take eleven stitches in the hide of. As you will pass out in an
orderly manner, let every lady help herself to two objects that attract
her, and every gent help himself to one object; and no crowding or
pulling I trust, because some of the objects would break, like the
moustache cup and saucer, or the drainpipe, with painted posies on it,
to hold your umbrels. Remember my words--every lady two objects and
every gent one only. There is