"'At first he's plumb inflex'ble that a-way, an' is goin' to deny
himse'f to faro-bank. He waxes quite heroic about it, our sport
does; a condition of sperits, by the way, I've allers noticed is
prone to immejetly precede complete c'llapse.
"'These yere reform thoughts of our sport consoomes a hour. About
that time, however, he engages himse'f with the fifth drink of nose-
paint. Tharupon faro-bank takes on a different tint. His attitoode
towards that amoosement becomes enlarged; at least he decides he'll
prance over some an' take a fall out of it for, say, a hundred or so
either way, merely to see if his luck's as black as former. An' over
capers our sport.
"'It's the same old song by the same old mockin'-bird. At second
drink time followin' midnight our sport is broke. As he gets up an'
stretches 'round a whole lot in a half-disgusted way, he still can't
he'p exultin' on how plumb cunnin' he's been. "I don't say this in
any sperit of derision," he remarks to the dealer he's been settin'
opp'site to for eight hours, an' who manoovers his fiscal over-
throw, as aforesaid, "an' shorely with no intent to mortify a wolf
like you-all, who's as remorseless as he's game, but I foresees this
racket an' insures for its defeat.
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