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Updated: May 28, 2025
I thanked my new acquaintances, but the thing was impossible, as I had never played Euchre, and therefore knew nothing about the game, beyond the few points I had picked up while watching them. "That ar awkward," said the pork-dealer. "Ain't we nohow able to get up a set? Come, Mr Chorley I believe that's your name, sir?" We can't make up a game if you do?"
Her grandfather, the navvy, had but recently become endowed with Pilgrim-Father Ancestry, and her maternal uncle was a boastful pork-dealer in Cincinnati. It was her bounden duty to ennoble the family somehow, surely, if any one had a right to be ambitious, she was that one!
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?"
"Well, then, what say you all to a game of whist?" inquired the last speaker, glancing around the table. "Don't know much about the game," bluntly answered the pork-dealer. "Mout play it on a pinch rayther than spoil sport; but whoever hez me for a partner 'll have to keep a sharp look-out for himself, I reckon." "I guess you know the game as well as I do," replied the one who had proposed it.
The pork-dealer and his partner seemed to get a little nettled. "It's the cards," said the latter, with an air of pique. "Of coorse it's the cards," repeated white-hat. "Had nothing but darned rubbish since the game begun. Thar again!" "Bad cards again?" inquired his partner with a sombre countenance. "Bad as blazes! couldn't win corn-shucks with 'em."
"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.
As it was, we continued to lose, until I felt satisfied that nearly half of my money was in the pockets of Hatcher and the pork-dealer. No doubt the whole of it would soon have found its way into the same receptacles, had not our game been suddenly, and somewhat mysteriously, interrupted.
Without any reserve of judgmemt, which could not deal with such low subjects, he looked down upon every Dissenter, every pork-dealer, and every Frenchman. What he was brought up to, that he would abide by; and the sin beyond repentance, to his mind, was the sin of the turncoat.
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