NEW YORK: 
 "WHITE FALLEN, 
 
 1888. 
 

 JAMES A. ROBINSON 
 
 s 
 
 University of California Berkeley 
 
 The Theodore H. Koundakjian 
 
 Collection 
 of American Humor 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
THE 
 
 THOMPSON STREET 
 POKER CLUB 
 
" YEZZAH FO* ACES, AN* I DONE RASSLE WIF DAT NIGGAH WIF HE FO* 
 NINES TWELL HE DRAP MORE 'N A DOLLAH *N FOHTY CENTS." 
 
THE 
 
 THOMPSON STREET 
 POKER CLUB 
 
 FROM 
 
 "L I F E" 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 YORK:: 
 "WHITE AND 
 1888. 
 
Copyright, 1884, 
 By MITCHELL AND MILLER. 
 
 Copyright, 1888, 
 By WHITE AND ALLEN. 
 
TO 
 THAT NOBLE EXPOUNDER OF THE GAME, 
 
 EGBERT C. SCHENCK, 
 
 These few reminiscences of blind, straddle, 
 raise and draw are affectionately and yet 
 eautiously dedicated, by 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 
 KEW YORK, 
 
 April 16th, 1884. 
 
POKER AMONG THE POETS. 
 
 " Thou shalt lie down with kings." Thanatopsis.. 
 
 v * * * 
 
 " I would give all my fame for a pot." Henry J . 
 
 * * * * 
 " Now might I do it pat." Hamlet. 
 
 * * * * 
 " I cannot draw." Lear. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " Straight let us seek." King John. 
 
 " Beware of entrance into a" [jack-pot] " but, being in, bear tthat 
 opposed may beware of thee." Hamlet. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 ' O for the touch of a vanished hand." Tennyson, 
 
TWO JACKS AN' A RAZZER. 
 
 THE REMARKABLE AND SUCCESSFUL HAND HELD BY MR. WILLIAMS. 
 
 THE Thompson Street Poker Club was in session, and a 
 big jack-pot had been opened. There were evidently big 
 hands out, for the bets and excitement ran high. 
 
 " Looker hyar, Gus, whuffer yo' rise dat pot ! " exclaimed 
 Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Nebber yo' mine ! Yo' call, ef you is n't 'fraid ; yes, yo' 
 call dat 's all ! " -retorted Gus, sullenly. 
 
 "I won't call! I rise you back," said Mr. WILLIAMS, 
 whose vertebrae were ascending. 
 
 "I rise yo' ag'in," retorted Gus. And so they went at 
 each other until chips, money, and collateral were gone. Mr. 
 WILLIAMS concluded to call. 
 
 " Whad yo' got, nigger, dat yo' do all dat risin' on ? Whad 
 yo' got, nohow ? " Gus laid down his hand ace, king, queen, 
 jack, and ten of clubs. 
 
 " Is dat good ? " he inquired, beginning to size up the pot. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 9 
 
 " No, dat's not good?" said Mr. WILLIAMS, reaching 
 down in his boot-leg. 
 
 "Whad yo' got den?" queried Gus. Mr. WILLIAMS looked 
 at him fixedly. 
 
 " Ise jes' got two jacks 'n' a razzer." 
 
 "Dat's good," said Gus. 
 
 The game then proceeded. 
 
 DAT'S GOOD! 
 
 MR. SMITH IS NOT TO BE BLUFFED WITH IMPUNITY. 
 
 MR. TOOTER WILLIAMS astonished the Thompson 
 Street Poker Club Saturday night by raising Mr. Gus 
 JOHNSON sixty-five cents when that gentleman opened the last 
 jack-pot of the evening. Mr. JOHNSON showed up two small 
 pair and precipitately fell out ; but the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL 
 SMITH stood the raise and drew four cards. Mr. WILLIAMS 
 stood pat. After the draw Mr. SMITH skinned his cards, 
 breathed very hard and bet a postage stamp and a battered 
 cent. Mr. WILLIAMS promptly raised him a dollar and forty 
 cents. Mr. SMITH hesitated, but finally drew forth his wallet. 
 " Look hyar, yo' coon, what yo' got dat yo'se gittin' so brash ? " 
 
 " Yo' fine out ef yo' bet dat dollah fohty jes' yo' see," 
 retorted Mr. WILLIAMS, evidently getting excited. 
 
 "Yo'se done rise de tar outen me too off en. Now what 
 yo' got ? " said the Rev. Mr. SMITH, putting his money into the 
 pot. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS looked disconcerted. "I I'se jes' got a 
 small king full," he faltered. 
 
10 
 
 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 u i HAIN'T GOT MUFFIN'." 
 
 "King full's good," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 "But I aint got it," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 "What has yo' got den ? " said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 "I'se got three queens." 
 
 "Three queens is good," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 " But I haint got 'em," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 " What has yo' got, den ? " queried the Rev. Mr. SMITH, 
 growing a little impatient. 
 
 "I'se got two par," said Mr. WILLIAMS: 
 "Dat's good," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 "But* I haint got 'em." 
 
 " Oh, come now, nigger, what has yo' got ? " 
 " I'se got one par. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. n 
 
 "But I haint got it," said Mr. WILLIAMS, whose situation 
 was growing perilous. 
 
 " Lans' stars, nigger, quit yo' foolin'! What has yo' got ?" 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS slowly skinned his cards. " I I haint got 
 miffinV 
 
 " WELL, DAT 's GOOD ! " 
 
 WHAR'S DE CASH PER DESE BEANS? 
 
 THE REV. MR. THANKFUL SMITH HAS TROUBLE WITH THE BANK. 
 
 OWING to the unfortunate fact that the chips loaned to the 
 Thompson Street Poker Club by Mr. RUBE JACKSON had 
 been garnisheed by Mr. Gus JOHNSON (see Rule 147, which 
 provides for the payment of I. O. U.'s), the members present 
 last Saturday evening were compelled to play with beans a 
 limited quantity of which had been thoughtfully secured by the 
 Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH while passing a produce store in 
 the late afternoon. 
 
 The cards ran well, and as Mr. SMITH himself was responsi 
 ble for the bank, the betting was unusually brilliant. Mr. 
 SMITH was never in better luck, nor Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS in 
 worse. Notwithstanding the heavy losses of the latter gentle 
 man, however, the supply of beans seemed never to run short, 
 and after several hours of play this excited suspicion in the 
 banker. 
 
 u Lemme jess cash up and see how de bank Stan's," said 
 that potentate, after an unusually prodigal burst of beans from 
 Mr. WILLIAMS had startled the players. 
 
 Mr. Gus JOHNSON passed in ninety-six beans and got his 
 money. 
 
12 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 Professor BRICK had thirty-nine lentils and a half ; but 
 consented, after some haggling, to call it plain thirty-nine. 
 
 Mr. RUBE JACKSON had seventy-two beans, but owed the 
 bank seventy-five. He settled the difference with coin. All 
 accounts had now been squared except that of Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH emptied the beans into his hat, put 
 the pack into his pocket, and made away with the stuffed 
 wallet. Every eye was fixed on Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Look hyar, niggah ! whar 's de cash fer dese beans ? " 
 asked that gentleman of the banker. 
 
 By way of reply Mr. SMITH emptied the bank upon the 
 table and desired the Committee of the Whole to count it. The 
 return was nine hundred and seventy-two beans. Then said 
 Mr. SMITH, impressively : 
 
 " I only had fo' hundred an' sixty beans ter start ; I 'se 
 winned all de jackers and mos' ob de stray tussels, an' yet I 'se 
 a dollah fohty-two out. Dis bank 's solven' as long 's de bettin' 
 's squar' ; but de debbil himse'f caw 'nt cash agin de man wat 's 
 got a umbreller-case full o' beans dribblin' from his sleeve. 
 No, sah ! Dis bank am 'spended." 
 
 The Club adjourned. 
 
 A NIGGAH FUNER'L. 
 
 THERE was no game at the Thompson Street Poker Club 
 on Saturday evening. Mr. Gus JOHNSON was engaged 
 to sing at a revival in Hoboken ; Professor BRICK wrote a note 
 to the effect that his coal man had prevented his recuperating 
 sufficiently to play on the cash system ; and Mr. RUBE JACK 
 SON, who had promised to call upon Elder Boss JONES, of Flor 
 ida, and steer him against the game, failed to put in an appear 
 ance. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
i< ^HE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUE 
 
 The Rev. THANKFUL SMITH was relating the experiences of 
 the previous meeting, when, with the saddened air of a man 
 who had lost his grip on his reputation, Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS 
 and the odor of a Bowery cigar entered together. 
 
 " Whad de madder, Toot ?" inquired Mr. SMITH with the 
 easy familiarity of a man in luck. " Yo' looks 'spondent." 
 
 " I* done loss dat sixty-fo' dollahs I winned on de hoss 
 race," responded Mr. WILLIAMS gloomily. 
 
 "Sho !" exclaimed everybody present. 
 
 "Yezzah," continued Mr. WILLIAMS, addressing himself 
 exclusively to Mr. SMITH, " an' I done loss it in bettin' agin' 
 mokes, too. Dat's whad makes de remorse bite." 
 
 The deepest interest having been aroused, Mr. WILLIAMS 
 proceeded to enlighten the members as follows : 
 
 " I was stannin' in a do' on Sixth Aveyou, an' up comes a 
 wite man in a plug hat, an' sezee, * Why heel-\o, Mister ROBIN- 
 son, how is yo' ?' ' 
 
 "Bunko," remarked Mr. SMITH, with the air of one who 
 had had experience. 
 
 " Dat 's what /thought," said Mr. WILLIAMS, "bud I kept 
 shet. So I sez to him, 'How is yo' ?' " 
 
 " ' I 'se a stranger yar, Mister ROBINSON,' sezee, ' an' I mus' 
 say I never did see so many mokes togidder as dey is on Sixth 
 Aveyou. Dey 's mo' mokes dan wite pussons.' 'Oh no,' sez 
 I, ' dey 's mo' wite pussons dan mokes.' ' I '11 bet yo' two to 
 one dey is n't,' sezee. 'All right, 1 sez I. So off he goes an' 
 comes back wid a fren' who weighed 'bout two hunded, an' 
 had a bad eye." 
 
 " Yo' had a sof ' spec," observed Mr. SMITH. 
 
 "Den," continued Mr. WILLIAMS, not noticing the inter 
 ruption, " sezee, ' Now, we '11 bofe put up a hunded dollahs 
 wif dis genelman, an* stan yar in de do'. Every wite man 
 passes, he '11 give yo' two dollahs, an' every moke passes, he '11 
 give me a dollah.' " 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
16 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 "Well !" said Mr. SMITH, who was growing excited. 
 
 " Well ! fust dey comes along two wite men, and de man 
 wif de bad eye says dat was fo' dollahs to my credit. Den comes 
 six wite men an' he say dat 's twelve dollahs mo' for me. Den 
 comes along a buck niggah and den I lose a dollah. Den fo' 
 wite men an' I win eight. Den fo' wite men mo' ; den one 
 niggah ; den two niggahs, den seven wite men, and de man wif 
 de bad eye, he say I was fohty-two dollahs ahead." 
 
 " De soifes' lay I ever hear/' said Mr. SMITH, whose eyes 
 were glistening over Mr. WILLIAMS' winnings. 
 
 " Den comes along fo' wite men," said Mr. WILLIAMS, 
 '* an' de man wif a bad eye he say dat was eight dollahs mo', 
 
 an' den " here Mr. WILLIAMS paused, as if his recollections 
 
 had overpowered him. 
 
 " An' den ?" echoed everybody, wildly excited. 
 
 " Why, den," said Mr. WILLIAMS, desperately, " dey comes 
 around de cornah " 
 
 " De cops ?" breathlessly asked Mr. SMITH.. 
 
 "A niggah funer'l," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 < I BROKE YO' ALL UP." 
 
 THE regular monthly meeting of the Thompson Street 
 Poker Club occurred last Saturday evening, and as Mr. 
 RUBE JACKSON had succeeded in steering the Reverend Dr. 
 JEFF COOPPULLER against the game, the members were in high 
 spirits. 
 
 Under Section 5, Rule IV., visitors and guests are allowed 
 to settle with the bank at the end of the game, and in accord 
 ance with this hospitable privilege, the reverend gentleman 
 had drawn so heavily as to make Mr. Gus JOHNSON'S eyes stand 
 out like a crab's with excitement. 
 
 Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS was in luck. It had been already 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
IS THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 secretly remarked by older members of the Club that whenever 
 the Club played with an old pack, Mr. WILLIAMS' luck was in 
 variably stea'dier and more brilliant, but on this occasion it 
 rose to such majestic proportions that every one but Lhe Club's 
 guest fled precipitately on his slightest symptom of showing 
 fight, and the battle was mainly between these two. 
 
 The Rev. THANKFUL SMITH was banking, as usual. He 
 honored his reverend friend's cal 7 for chips with cheerfulness 
 and alacrity for four straight hours. Then Mr. WILLIAMS 
 pleaded an engagement, passed in his topplin j Dile, and received 
 $14, even, which was the biggest winning on the Club's record. 
 He then left. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. COOPPULLER made another liberal draft on 
 the bank, and began losing to Mr. Gus JOHNSON. The Rev. 
 Mr. SMITH was beginning to have his suspicions. At last he 
 said : 
 
 " Sposen we jess cash in, an' squar wid de bank." 
 
 Mr. Gus JOHNSON handed in his winnings and received 
 
 $3-4^. 
 
 Mr. RUBE JACKSON owed the bank 92 cents, and paid it 
 with a trade dollar. All eyes were now fixed upon the guest 01 
 the evening. 
 
 "Yo' owes de bank, brudder, 'bout $19.79," said Mr. 
 SMITH, with an effort to be calm. 
 
 '"Dat's all right," said Mr. COOPPULLER, putting on his 
 gloves. 
 
 "Wha whad 's all right ?" inquired Mr. SMITH, who was 
 beginning to realize the worst. 
 
 "Dat $19.79," answered Mr. COOPPULLER, drawing on 
 his coat. 
 
 " Whar 's de cash ?" inquired Mr* SMITH. 
 
 " Yo' gin it ter Toot, did n' yoV" asked Mr. COOPPULLER. 
 
 " He winned it !" asseverated Mr. SMITH. 
 
 " Dat 's not my fault," said Mr. COOPPULLER. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. iq 
 
 " I broke yo' all up, ef yo' doan squar dat 'count," said 
 Mr. SMITH, shucking off his coat and assuming a terrible posi 
 tion. 
 
 Mr. COOPPULLER smiled. " I was jess jess foolin', brud- 
 der. Yar 's a check fo' twenty-fo' dollahs. Gin me de 
 change." 
 
 " Mr. SMITH counted out four dollars and twenty-one 
 cents, and shook hands with Mr. COOPPULLER, who beamed 
 with a benevolence only exceeded by the caution with which 
 he smuggled a wink to Mr. RUBE JACKSON. Then he and that 
 gentleman left together. There was silence. Mr. Gus JOHN 
 SON was examining the cheque. He handed it back to Mr. 
 SMITH with a smile. 
 
 " Dat 's all right ?" asked Mr. SMITH. 
 
 " All right ; 'ceptin'" 
 
 " 'Ceptin' whad ?" 
 
 " Dat bank busted mo 'n a y'ar ago." 
 
 " DAT BANK BUSTED MO' N A YAR AGO. 
 
20 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 SCRAPED TRAY. 
 
 MR. TOOTER WILLIAMS was late at the meeting of the 
 Thompson Street Poker Club, Saturday evening ; but 
 as he had Elder Boss DICKERSON in tow, the secretary remitted 
 the usual fine. It was confidentially learned that the Elder had 
 just received $17.50 on an extensive kalsomining contract, and 
 was probably good for as much more, and as Mr. WILLIAMS had 
 already played with the deck of cards now upon the table, and 
 Mr. RUBE JACKSON had consented for a small percentage not 
 to play, but to sit in a sociable way behind the Elder's chair, 
 the game promised to be one of extraordinary interest. 
 
 Having been introduced to the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH, 
 Mr. Gus JOHNSON and Professor BRICK, the Elder shucked off 
 his ulster, produced a corpulent wallet, purchased $1.79 worth 
 of blues and red, and opened up the game with an expression of 
 determination and a thumping blind, which made the excitable 
 Mr. JOHNSON'S eyes stand out like those of an apoplectic crab. 
 Seven hands were played, and as Mr. JACKSON, who sat behind 
 the Elder, had evidently forgotten the code of signals to the 
 extent that he winked with his right eye when he should have 
 winked with his left, Mr. WILLIAMS was already out ninety- 
 seveii cents, and was correspondingly mad. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 21 
 
 At last, however, Mr. JACKSON was made aware of his error 
 by a searching kick delivered beneath the table, and a new 
 deck, which had been thoughtfully placed on ice by the Rev. 
 Mr. SMITH before the company assembled, was produced. It 
 was Mr. JOHNSON'S deal, and the Elder's blind. 
 
 Everybody came in. 
 
 The Elder raised the blind 65 cents. 
 
 The decisive moment had come. 
 
 "I rise datrise a dollah," said the Rev. THANKFUL SMITH, 
 with the calmness of one who expects to fill a bobtail. 
 
 " I sees yo' dat, and I liff yo' a dollah mo'," ventured Mr. 
 WILLIAMS. 
 
 " I calls," said the Elder. 
 
 Mr. SMITH also called, and the three proceeded to draw 
 cards. Mr. WILLIAMS wanted two cards ; the Rev. Mr. SMITH 
 guessed he 'd take one, and the Elder concluded to play what 
 he had. 
 
 Mr. SMITH led out with a two dollar stack. Mr. WILLIAMS 
 slowly pulled out a corpulent wallet, fixed a belligerent glare 
 apparently on Mr. SMITH, banged the wallet heavily on the 
 middle of the table, and said, impressively : 
 
 " I goes yo' dat two, an' six dollahs rise." 
 
 " I rise yo' six," said the Elder, but without putting up chips. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Smith dropped out. Mr. WILLIAMS pointed 
 to the wallet, and said : 
 
 " I goes yo' six mo'." 
 
 The Elder raised one foot, and placed it neatly on top of 
 Mr. WILLIAMS' wallet, and said : 
 
 " I rise dat ten." 
 
 "Whar 's de money?" inquired Mr. WILLIAMS, with a 
 polite smile. 
 
 " Whar 's yo' money ?" retorted the Elder, as sweetly. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS pointed to the wallet underneath the Elder's 
 iiceL 
 
22 
 
 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 23 
 
 " Dat 's all right, den," said the Elder ; " I 'se got jess as 
 much leather on dis yar table as yo' has." 
 
 " Whad yo' mean by dat ?" asked Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Put up er shet," said the Elder. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS drove his knife through his cards, pinning 
 them to the table, and called out the Rev. Mr. SMITH for a con 
 sultation. The Elder thoughtfully whistled a tune, drew a 
 razor, and seemed to be trying its edge on the surface of his 
 bottom card. Mr. JACKSON watched Mr. WILLIAMS' hand to 
 see that nothing got away, and Mr. JOHNSON kept his eye on 
 the pack. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS returned triumphantly, and counted out 
 thirty dollars, which he had evidently borrowed from Mr. 
 SMITH. 
 
 "I calls, "he said. 
 
 The Elder put up his razor, shook $29 out of his wallet, 
 made up a dollar more with mutilated coin, some pennies and 
 a postage-stamp, and said, briefly : 
 
 " Whad yo' got ?" 
 
 "Fo' kings," said Mr. WILLIAMS, with a deadly gleam in 
 his eye. 
 
 " Not good," said the Elder. 
 
 " Wha whad ?" faltered Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Fo' aces." With this the Elder showed four aces, swept 
 the pot into his hat and left the room. The five sat dazed. 
 
 " I done guv him three aces an' two trays, sho," said Mr. 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 " I put dat han' up mysef," asseverated Mr. SMITH, be 
 wildered. 
 
 " I seed bofe dem trays in he hand," observed Mr. JACK 
 SON. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS said nothing, but silently examined the 
 Elder's hand. Finally he inquired, hoarsely : 
 
 " Did he hev a razzer ?" 
 
24 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 '* Yezzah," said Mr. JACKSON ; "he done play with he 
 razzer de whole time yo' was outen de room." 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS rose with a withering look, and put on his 
 coat. 
 
 " Whad 's de matter, TOOT ?" inquired Mr. SMITH. " How 
 yo' splain hit ?" 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS pointed to the ace of diamonds, lately in 
 the Elder's hand. " Gin any niggah de tray er diamonds an' a 
 razzer an' tree aces, and whad kin fo' kings do ? Gwuffum 
 lieah. He done played me outen thirty dollars on er scraped 
 tray. Dad 's what makes me 'spise pokah." 
 
 With this, Mr. WILLIAMS left the room. 
 
 DAT'S GAMBLIN'. 
 
 AT the regular meeting of the Thompson Street Poker 
 Club, on Saturday evening, owing to the fact that both 
 his eyes had that morning accidentally collided with the 
 knuckles of the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH, after a slight 
 financial misunderstanding, and that for two hours he had lost 
 every jackpot he had opened, Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS presented 
 somewhat the aspect of gloom. Mr. Gus JOHNSON was one 
 dollar and forty-nine cents ahead, having had an unusually 
 steady two-pair streak ; Mr. RUBE JACKSON had sixty-nine 
 cents' worth of velvet before him ; Professor BRICK was a few 
 coppers and a postage stamp on the right side ; and Mr. WIL 
 LIAMS, who was banking, was the only loser. It being his 
 deal, three kirgs wandered into his hand, and might have proved 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 "DEM NINES 'LL WIN, SHO'." 
 
 effectual but for the sad fact that everybody noticed the expres 
 sion of his eye and fled. A jack-pot was then in order, and 
 after it had climbed to aces the players braced up and knew 
 that the event of the evening hed come. At that moment the 
 door opened and the Rev. Mr. SMITH, accompanied by a slight 
 odor of hiccoughs, entered, took his seat behind Mr. JACKSON'S 
 chair, and glared a renewal of the morning's hostilities at Mr. 
 WILLIAMS. That gentleman haughtily refused to notice it, 
 however, but opened the pot with a burst of chips which scared 
 Mr. JOHNSON half to death. Professor BRICK came in. 
 
 "Rise dat," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH to Mr. JACKSON. 
 Then he whispered audibly : " Dem tree nines '11 win dat pot, 
 sho." 
 
 Mr. JACKSON elevated the bet as directed. Mr. WILLIAMS 
 was delighted, for he had three jacks. He returned the raise, 
 
 " Rise him agin," commanded the Rev. Mr. SMITH, and 
 then whispered as before : " Doan leggo dem nines." 
 
 Back came Mr. WILLIAMS, and then the Rev. Mr. SMITH 
 counseled Mr. JACKSON to " jess call," and "and see what dem 
 nines '11 ketch in the draw." 
 
26 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 Mr. JACKSON wanted two cards, and caught a pair of 
 trays. Mr. WILLIAMS held up a king and drew one card> 
 which, after elaborately combing his hand, he discovered to be 
 another king. The battle was then resumed. 
 
 " I '11 back dem nines for all I'se wuff," said Mr. SMITH, 
 slipping his wallet into Mr. JACKSON'S hand. And so they 
 went at each other until even Mr. WILLIAMS' new collar button 
 was up, and he was forced to call : 
 
 " What yo' got, niggah ? " 
 
 " Whad yo' got yo'se'f ?" retorted Mr. JACKSON. 
 
 "I'se got er jack-full dat's what / got," said Mr.. 
 WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Shome down," said Mr. SMITH, imperturbably. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS proudly skinned out three jacks and a pair 
 of kings, and inquired rather superciliously, was " dat good ?" 
 
 "We'se loaded fer bar over yar," retorted Mr. SMITH^ 
 evasively. 
 
 "Whad?" asked Mr. WILLIAMS, astonished ; for, as dealer,, 
 he was certain he had not given Mr. WILLIAMS a fourth nine. 
 
 "We'se jess jess loaded fer bar." 
 
 " Whad's dat ?" reiterated Mr. WILLIAMS, turning as pale 
 as he could. " Shope dem nines ! " 
 
 Mr. SMITH'S only reply was to spread Mr. JACKSON'S hand 
 out. It consisted mainly of queens, with a flavor of trays to 
 give it strength. He then gathered in the pot and, with Mr. 
 JACKSON, quitted the room. Mr. WILLIAMS sat in deep 
 thought. After a little he said : " I like de game for fun jess, 
 jess to pass away de time. But dat" here Mr. WILLIAMS 
 waved l.is hand towards the debris of the recent encounter, 
 with the air of one inculcating a lofty moral "dat 's gamblin'!'* 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
28 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 BAR 'S NO SUCKAHS IN HOBOKEN. 
 
 THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE DEMEANOR OF MR. DILSEY. 
 
 FOR three weeks, until last Saturday, the Thompson Street 
 POKER CLUB had had no session. This was partly due to 
 the fact that the proprietor of the building had sordidly closed 
 the room and kicked Mr. Gus JOHNSON, the treasurer, down 
 stairs on learning that, owing to some inexplicable phenomenon 
 not understood by the Club, the kitty had not yielded enough 
 to pay for the kerosene, much less the rent. 
 
 As a regular rake on two pairs and upward had been made, 
 for a month, this delinquency amazed the Club. Various 
 scientific theories were advanced, among them one involving a 
 search of Mr. JOHNSON'S private pocket and bootleg, but inves 
 tigation had shown them to be false. An inspection of the 
 table-drawer was then made. It was shown that a knot-hole 
 existed in the bottom thereof, large enough to admit of the in 
 sertion of two fingers or the abstraction of three dollars, which 
 was the amount of the missing kitty. It was also demonstrated 
 that the knot-hole had been in perihelion, so to speak, with Mr. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 29 
 
 TOOTER WILLIAMS. Therefore, while it was clear that the 
 money was hopelessly gone, it was impossible to account for its 
 absence upon any other theory than that offered by Mr. WIL 
 LIAMS himself that de mice done smell dat las' welch rahbit 
 offen Mr. JOHNSON'S fingahs on de bills, an' run off wid it." 
 This explanation was received in lieu of a better ; the Rev. 
 Mr. THANKFUL SMITH paid the rent and assumed charge of 
 the kitty until he should be reimbursed ; Mr. JOHNSON mag 
 nanimously forgave the gentleman who had kicked him down 
 stairs. Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS expressed his belief in Mr. 
 JOHNSON'S integrity as Treasurer, and all was again harmony 
 
 Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES, for a moderate percentage, had 
 volunteered to steer his brother-in-law against the game, and, 
 to use a technical expression, blow him in for all he was worth. 
 The gentleman in question was a Hoboken barber with a steady 
 income, a total ignorance of draw-poker, a child-like confidence 
 and other advantages of mind and person which impressed Mr. 
 WILLIAMS favorably. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH instructed the neophyte in those 
 fundamental principles known as " coming in," "straddling," 
 " rising," and " sweetnin' de jacker," and by tacit consent he 
 was allowed to win some small successive pots and thus got 
 himself into a glorious humor. Then Mr. WILLIAMS winked 
 at Gus JOHNSON, and that gentleman dealt. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS had straddled the blind and the Rev. Mr. 
 SMITH straddled him. All came in, and drew three cards 
 apiece except the stranger, Mr. HIGHLAND DILSEY, who only 
 wanted one. Mr WILLIAMS bet a dollar. Mr. SMITH raised 
 him two. 
 
 Professor BRICK called, as did also Mr. WHIFFLES. All 
 eyes were upon Mr. DILSEY, and the silence was so profound 
 that Mr. JOHNSON could hear his hair grow. 
 
 " Does yo' jess jess call, Mistah DILSEY," inquired Mr. 
 WILLIAMS, with a sweet smile, " or does yo' rise it ?" 
 
30 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 Mr DILSEY passed his cards in review, hesitated, and said: 
 
 "Kin I rise it?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mr. WILLIAMS, who had a great deal 
 of benevolence and also three kings. " Rise it all yo' want." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Mr. DILSEY raised the pot six dollars. 
 Everybody breathed hard with suppressed excitement, and Mr 
 JOHNSON'S eyes might have served for a hat rack. Mr. WIL 
 LIAMS raised back and Mr. SMITH raised him. The others, ac 
 cording to previous agreement, fled. 
 
 Mr. DILSEY called. " What yo' got to beat two par ?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 " Is sev'ral big, fat, smilin' kings any good ?" asked Mr. 
 WILLIAMS kindly. 
 
 " Kin a spade flisk, queen high, do miffin' ?" queried the 
 Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 
 " Shome up," said Mr. DILSEY, apparently nursing his left 
 foot. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS unfolded his private collection of royalty, 
 and Mr. SMITH exhibited a panorama of spades' which reflected 
 great credit upon Mr. JOHNSON'S dealing. 
 
 "I 'se sorry, Mistah DILSEY," observed Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Dat 's de way wif cyards," remarked the Rev. Mr. SMITH, 
 sententiously. " Gamblin"s onsartin." 
 
 Mr. DILSEY spoke not, but began to count up the pot. 
 
 " Wha whad yo' doin' wif de spondles ?" asked Mr. WIL 
 LIAMS 
 
 " Leggo my pot ! " commanded Mr. SMITH. 
 
 Mr. DILSEY coolly rolled up the bills and inserted them in 
 an abyss under his vest, and then swept the coppers and Mr. 
 WHIFFLES' plated watch-chain into his pocket. 
 
 " Look hyar, niggahs," he said, in a tone which made Mr. 
 JOHNSON feel like a refrigerator, " I 'se from Hoboken, an' I 'se 
 a barbah. When a Hoboken barbah comes to Thoms'n Street, 
 he kerries his profession wif him. I 'se got bofe boot-legs an' 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 31 
 
32 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUE. 
 
 a hip-pocket full er de implements ob de craff. Yo' hear me ?'*" 
 
 All signified by silence that they heard. Then Mr. DILSEY 
 laid down three jacks and a pair of sixes, and coolly jammed 
 Mr. WHIFFLES' hat down over his eyes and quitted the room. 
 
 The Club sat stricken for three minutes. Then the door 
 slowly reopened, and Mr. DILSEY'S voice sounded sepulchraKy: 
 
 " Dar 's no suckahs in Hoboken." 
 
 With that he vanished. 
 
 DE SEVEN CENTS. 
 
 PROCEEDS OF AN ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE BARTHOLDI 
 PEDESTAL FUND. 
 
 A SPECIAL meeting of the Thompson Street Poker Club 
 was held last Saturday evening for the purpose of dis 
 cussing the ways and means of aiding the Bartholdi Pedestal 
 Fund. Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS, who had unfortunately not en 
 tirely recovered from an acute attack of malaria contracted on 
 New Year's Day, was found to be too unparliamentary and up 
 roarious to occupy the Chair, so that power was conferred upon 
 the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH, who, though evidently con 
 valescing from the same malady, was drowsy but dignified, and 
 banked as usual. 
 
 Mr. RUBE JACKSON opened the question and the jack-pot 
 by remarking that he had seen a photograph of the statue, and 
 thought that its complexion should strongly recommend it to 
 the zeal of the colored race. 
 
 Mr. Gus. JOHNSON passed out with the remark that he never 
 did n't have no luck on packers nohow, and wanted to hear the 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 33 
 
 Barthoidi matter more fully discussed before venturing an 
 opinion. 
 
 Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES came in without remark. 
 
 Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS woke up and said he would open 
 the pot for a dollar and a half. Mr. RUBE JACKSON, who saw 
 there was trouble coming, hastened to mildly assure him it had 
 already been opened for thirty-five cents. Then said Mr. 
 WILLIAMS in a voice of war : 
 
 " I rise dat two dollahs, 'n I '11 knock de tar outen de 
 niggah wot doan' rassle." 
 
 This definite proposition had the effect of scaring Mr. 
 JACKSON half to death, and of recalling the Rev. Mr. SMITH 
 from the temporary state of coma into which he had lapsed. 
 He drowsily ran over his hand, inquired who had opened the 
 pot, and on being informed of Mr. WILLIAMS' belligerent burst 
 of chips, electrified all present by drawing forth the honorable 
 wallet and slapping it on the table with great violence. He then 
 said to Mr. WILLIAMS : 
 
 " Look hyar, TOOT ; what yo' doin ?" 
 
 " I jess jess rised dat pot," faltered Mr. WILLIAMS, who 
 had not forgotten past experiences with that wallet. 
 
 " Yo' rised it, did yer ?" sarcastically inquired Mr. SMITH : 
 " yo' rised it ?" Here he opened the wallet and shook out a 
 roll of bills. " I see dat rise 'n I swole dat pot ten, twonny 
 fohty dollahs." Here he leaned back and smiled reassuringly 
 on Mr. JACKSON, who had begun to breathe again. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS ran his hand over. It somehow did n't 
 seem to be as large as before. He then said : 
 
 " I I 'sidered dis pot was fer fer de fun'." 
 
 " Wot fun' ?" asked Mr. SMITH. 
 
 " De pedestal fun' ?" 
 
 *' Dat 's why you swole de jacker ?" 
 
 " Ye yes." 
 
34 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 "BRER JACKSON 'LL TAKE DE SEBEN CENTS." 
 
 " Well, den, for de sake ob de pedestal fun', I jess swole it 
 fohty dollahs." 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS respiration was labored for a few minutes, 
 during which time he ran his hand over again. 
 
 " I'se a patriot," he said, "an' I '11 do anyt'ing in de 
 cause." 
 
 " Den yo' call dat rise ?" 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS threw up his hand. The Rev. Mr. SMITH 
 raked in the jack, counted it over twice, and said : 
 
 " De gross proceeds of dis entertainment am five dollahs 'n 
 seventy-two cents. Five from thirteen, nine, carry one ; six 'n 
 four 's nine dat leaves jis seven cents profit fer de fun'. Brud- 
 der Jackson will take charge ob de seven cents," he concluded, 
 passing that sum over in coppers. 
 
 " Bud whar whar 's de res' ob de money goin'," inquired 
 Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " The res' of de money," said Mr. SMITH, impressively, " is 
 absorbed by de 'spenses ob de entertainment. Brudder JACK 
 SON will now pass around de aces." 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 35 
 
 TRIFLIN' WIF PROV'DENCE. 
 
 THE Thompson Street Poker Club met as usual last Satur 
 day evening, the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH in the 
 chair. There were present Professor BRICK, Mr. CYANIDE 
 WHIFFLES and Elder JUBILEE ANDERSON, whom Mr. TOOTER 
 WILLIAMS, as an act of courtesy, had volunteered to steer 
 against the game. A note of regrets was received from Mr. 
 Gus. JOHNSON. Owing to a slight misunderstanding in rela 
 tion to the ownership of an overcoat, he had a temporary en 
 gagement with the municipal authorities. 
 
 The game was spirited, the jack-pots frequent and excit 
 ing, and the luck for two hours ran steadily against the Elder. 
 
 Mr. TOOTER WILLIAMS had been to a stag dinner in the 
 early evening, and the heating influence of the maccaroni com 
 pelled him about every fifth hand to seek the outer air and 
 cool himself. Each time he returned, however, he would in 
 dulge in such a reckless burst of chips and flushes as to mislead 
 his guest into the supposition that it would be wiser for him to 
 go home and sleep it 'off. But as he steadily won it was useless 
 to make the proposition. 
 
 At eleven o'clock the Elder had lost six dollars and drew 
 out of the game. Mr. WILLIAMS was nine dollars and Mr. 
 WHIFFLES' ulster ahead. The Rev. Mr. SMITH was gloomy 
 
36 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 and Professor BRICK seemed to be deliberating what form of 
 suicide would be cheapest and most effective. Mr. WILLIAMS, 
 from being musically uproarious, had become incoherent and 
 abusive. He drew three cards against Mr. WHIFFLES' pat flush 
 and got him four dollars in debt, and he bounced the Rev. Mr. 
 SMITH out of a jack-pot with two miserable fives, which he 
 gleefully showed down. He was then again attacked by mac- 
 caroni and vanished for a breath of fresh air. 
 
 " Kin I play yo' ban', Toot ?" inquired the Elder, as M*. 
 WILLIAMS rose. 
 
 "Cern'ly," replied that gentleman. "An' when yo' ketch 
 'em, kyarve Smith kyarve 'im !" With two lurches and this 
 truculent request, he quitted the room. 
 
 The Elder smiled across at the Rev. Mr. SMITH, and that 
 gentleman winked at Mr. WHIFFLES, who dealt. 
 
 " I bets yo' a dollah," observed the Elder. 
 
 " I rises dat fo'," retorted the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 
 " I calls. Gimme a cyard," said the Elder. 
 
 " Me too," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 
 " Fo' dol'ahs," said the Elder, making a cavern in Mr. 
 WILLIAMS'S pile. 
 
 " Fo' mo'," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 
 At that moment a door slammed, and Mr. WHIFFLES knew 
 that trouble and Mr. WILLIAMS was coming. 
 
 " Fo' mo 'n yo'," was the Elder's reply, as he shoved up 
 the last of Mr. WILLIAMS' chips and Mr. WHIFFLES' ulster. 
 
 "Rise dat fo',". replied the Rev. Mr. SMITH. At that 
 moment Mr. WILLIAMS entered. His practised eye took in the 
 situation at once. 
 
 "Wha whadjer doin' ?" he asked the Elder. 
 
 " Playin' yo' han'," replied that gentleman, giving him the 
 cards. 
 
 "Who who done all dat risin' ?" was Mr. WILLIAMS* 
 next inquiry. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 37 
 
38 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 "/ did ; dad's who,' said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS ran his hand over. It held two trays, a. 
 pair of nines, and a king. 
 
 "Spose sposen I rise yo' back ?" he said to the Rev. Mr. 
 SMITH, in tones which he hoped would fill him with terror. 
 
 " Rise away," was that gentleman's imperturbable reply. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS, for a moment, was plunged in profound 
 thought. Then he threw up his hand. The Elder slowly 
 drew in the pot, buried it in his pocket, tried the fit of Mr. 
 WHIFFLES' ulster, found it too small, gave it back to its owner, 
 and then with the Elder and a somewhat fiendish chuckle, 
 quitted the room. There was silence for a minute, and then 
 Mr. WILLIAMS said, impressively : 
 
 "Niggas, dad's what er genelman gits for takin' his eye 
 offen de pack. Dad speeyunce done cos' me jess jess six 
 dollahs a minit dat fresh air was jess sixty cents a breff, while 
 I was outen de room. Dad 's not pokah. Dad 's triflin wif 
 prov'dence." 
 
 "WHARJER GIT DEM JACKS?" 
 
 MR. WILLIAMS AND MR. SMITH HAVE A SLIGHT MISUNDER 
 STANDING. 
 
 R. TOOTER WILLIAMS had a bad eye and several 
 kings when the Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH opened the 
 first jack-pot at the regular meeting of the Thompson Street 
 Poker Club, Saturday evening. Mr. Gus JOHNSON saw that a 
 powerful brew of mischief was at hand, and prudently laid 
 down two pair ; while Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES, who had a. 
 severe cold, a pair of eights, and very little horse sense, came in. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 39 
 
 "I rise dat two dollahs," said Mr. WILLIAMS, quietly, but 
 with truculence of intent. 
 
 "Yo's gittin' too brash," rejoined the Rev. Mr. SMITH, 
 testily. " Ef yo' tinks yo' 's de Vandybilk er dis pahty, jess 
 jess stack 'em up. I rise yo' six dollahs." 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS considered for a moment, during which 
 time he thoughtfully examined the cards which with great fore 
 sight he had previously pinned to the leg of the table. 
 
 " I calls," he said, at length. " Gimme two cyards." 
 
 Mr. WHIFFLES fled. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH dealt Mr. WILLIAMS two cards, and 
 conscientiously helped himself to the last ten-spot remaining in 
 the pack. He then banged the honored wallet on the table and 
 said : 
 
 " 'Leven dollahs." 
 
 " I calls yo'," said Mr. WILLIAMS, secretly unpinning the 
 hidden hand, and counting out the money. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH swept the pot into his pocket. 
 
 " Wha whadjer doin'?" gasped Mr. WILLIAMS, aghast at 
 this unparliamentary proceeding. 
 
 "Fo* tens," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH, showing down that 
 remarkable hand. " How many freckles yo' got on yo' han' ? " 
 he inquired. 
 
 "Fse I'se jess jess clum over yo' tens," said Mr. WIL 
 LIAMS, with an effort to be calm and look honest. 
 
 " Shome up," said the reverend gentleman. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS unfolded four jacks. They were all there. 
 
 " Wharjer get um ?" was the next point in the Rev. Mr. 
 SMITH'S catechism. 
 
 " Outen de pack, er course," said Mr. WILLIAMS, breathing 
 hard. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH'S reply was to reach over and weave 
 his fingers firmly through the roots of Mr. WILLIAMS' hair. 
 Then he thrashed around the room with him for a few excited 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 41 
 
 minutes and then sat down upon him. Mr. WILLIAMS still 
 breathed heavily. 
 
 " Wharjer git dem jacks ? " 
 
 "Outen de pack," again responded Mr. WILLIAMS, making 
 a feeble effort to get up. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH butted his head nineteen times against 
 the floor with great rapidity and violence, and again inquired, 
 softly : 
 
 " Wharjer gettum ? " 
 
 " Outen de pack. Leggo my kinks," urged Mr. WILLIAMS, 
 still breathing heavily. Again his head was butted violently 
 against the floor until the landlord on the floor above was im 
 pressed with the idea that the Club was refreshing itself with a 
 solo on the bass drum. 
 
 "Whar jer git dem jacks?" inquired the Rev. Mr. 
 SMITH, emphasising each word with a double butt. 
 
 " Outen de " here Mr. WILLIAMS faltered. 
 
 " Outen de what ? " asked the Rev. Mr. SMITH with a tem 
 porary cessation of hostilities. 
 
 " De bug," said Mr. WILLIAMS, doggedly. " Lemme up." 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH unloaded himself from Mr. WILL- 
 IAMS'S abdomen, arose, crossed the room and possessed himself 
 of the extra cards pinned to the table. 
 
 " Dis whadjer call de bug ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yezzah," said Mr. WILLIAMS, gloomy but respectful. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH assumed his overcoat. Then he 
 replied to Mr. WILLIAMS : 
 
 " TOOT, by the prowishuns of rule sixty-fo', yo' am sus 
 pended till de next meetin,' an' doan yo' work de bug no mo'- 
 Mistah CYANIDE WHIFFLES an' Gus JOHNSON will now come 
 down ter de s'loon an' rassle wif a sassenger an' some beer." 
 
 The Club then adjourned. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS breathed heavily. 
 
42 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 "TROD SOF'LY, NIGGAHS." 
 
 MR. TOOTER WILLIAMS opened the first jack-pot 
 with a little hesitation and four white chips, Saturday 
 evening. Deacon TROTLINE ANGUISH^ who had strayed in 
 under the chaperonage of Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES, and who 
 apparently had jacks-up and a very superficial knowledge of 
 Mr. WILLIAMS, came in. Mr. RUBE JACKSON felt a strong 
 temptation to put a plaster on the back of the wall-eyed king 
 he had caught, hold him up with the deuces and try and pull 
 something, but the studied indifference with which Mr. WIL 
 LIAMS gazed into space, made him lay down his hand and wish 
 he were dead. Mr. CYANIDE WHIFFLES borrowed a blue chip 
 from the Deacon "jess jess till de nex' han'," and came in 
 and kept the change. Then all eyes naturally centred on the 
 Rev. Mr. THANKFUL SMITH, who, in addition to a barricade of 
 chips which made Mr. WHIFFLES'S mouth water, had a four 
 flush and a cheerfulness of demeanor which boded no good. 
 
 " Ez my fren' TOOT 's done open dat jacker," he began, 
 sweetly, u I rises hit." So saying, he put up such a stack of 
 blue chips that Mr. WHIFFLES nearly fainted. 
 
 " Whad yo' go do dat for, Brer THANKFUL ?" inquired 
 the Deacon, in wild remonstrance. " Dat 's not de speret ob de 
 Gospil." 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 43 
 
 " Whar whar yo' fin' draw-poker in de Gospil ?" testily- 
 rejoined Mr. SMITH. " Does yo' tink de Possles 'n de 'Vangel- 
 ists writ de Scripter after rasslin' wid a two-cyard draw agin a 
 flush ?" he sarcastically inquired. " No, Brer ANGUISH. Less 
 ten' ter business. Dis ain't no prar meetin' ceptin' Brer WIL 
 LIAMS seems to be on de anxious seat." 
 
 " Who who 's on de anxious seat ?" asked Mr. WILLIAMS, 
 hotly. " Yo' jess come on ; I rises yo' fo' dollahs." 
 
 The Deacon sadly ran over his hand. " De Gospil, Brer 
 THANKFUL," he began ; "de Gospil." 
 
 "Cheese dat," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH. "Is yo' goin* 
 ter pray or poke ? " 
 
 " I'se gwine ter poke," he replied ; " I'se gwine ter see yo' 
 rise " here he shoved up a stack of blues " an' Brer TOOT s 
 rise" here he shoved up another stack "an' I'se gwine ter 
 rise it jess a leetle, 'cordin' ter de speret ob de good Book " 
 here he shoved up six dollars. 
 
 Mr. WHIFFLES fled. 
 
 Mr. JACKSON was breathing still, but that was all. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH glared defiance. '* I rise yo' back." 
 
 "/rise^'," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 "An' I rise TOOT," said the Deacon. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH was aghast. He was dealing, and 
 knew by intuition that he would catch his fifth club ; but there 
 was a serenity on the other side of the table which affrighted 
 him, 
 
 " I jess jess calls," he said. 
 
 " I calls," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Help de genelmen," said the Deacon, w r ith the benevo 
 lence which invariably accompanies a pat hand. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS broke his two pair and drew to his jacks. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH got his club. 
 
 " Six dollahs," said the Deacon, after Mr. WILLIAMS had 
 timidly ventured one chip. 
 
44 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 4 
 
 11 1 calls," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH, sullenly 
 
 " I rise dat six mo','' said-Mr WILLIAMS. 
 
 " I rise yo' six," said the Deacon. 
 
 " I calls," gasped Mr SMITH, shoving up his last chip 
 and his snuff-box. 
 
 " Six mo'," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Six mo'," said the Deacon. 
 
 Mr. SMITH shucked off his overcoat and added to it his 
 spectacles. " I calls," he said, as though speaking from the 
 tomb. 
 
 " Six mo'," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 "Six mo'," said the Deacon. 
 
 "I I hain't got nuffin' mo'," said the Rev. Mr. SMITH, 
 faltering. 
 
 " Shove up dat watch," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " Soak dem new boots," urged the Deacon. 
 
 "An* dat golhedded cane," suggested Mr. JACKSON, who, 
 of course, however, had no business to speak, and was accord 
 ingly suppressed. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. SMITH hesitated. Then he sighed and threw 
 up his hand. To his great astonishment Mr. WILLIAMS did 
 the same. The elder softly hummed a hymn, tried the focal 
 length of Mr. SMITH'S spectacles, assumed Mr. SMITH'S ulster, 
 thoughtfully inserted Mr. SMITH'S watch-chain in his vest- 
 pocket, collared the bank and counted it, and then, with a 
 cheerful smile at Mr. WILLIAMS, left the room. The silence 
 for several minutes was sepulchral. Then Mr. JACKSON said : 
 
 " I 'se 'fraid 
 
 "Yo' 'se 'fraid ob what?" asked the Rev. Mr. SMITH, 
 savagely. 
 
 " Dad TOOT 's played yo'." 
 
 "Wha whad?" gasped Mr. SMITH. 
 
 " Dad was a sawbuck," said Mr. JACKSON. 
 
 " Whad 's a sawbuck ?" 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 45 
 
46 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 " Why, dad pious niggah's TOOT'S cust fuzzin TOOT'S 
 dad's nevvy," said Mr. JACKSON. 
 
 A light broke upon the Rev. Mr. SMITH. " Dey was risin' 
 an' risin ter ter knock de tar outen me?' he inquired, in a 
 voice which froze Mr. WHIFFLES' marrow. 
 
 " Yezzah," said Mr. JACKSON, keeping the table well be 
 tween them. 
 
 Mr. SMITH turned over Mr. WILLIAMS' hand. It contained 
 two jacks. He examined the Deacon's. It held just three 
 hearts, a spade and a club. He then re-examined his own flush. 
 It was still perfect. 
 
 " Niggahs," he said, with the calmness of despair, " go out 
 sof'ly, and lemme alone. I 'se been a prayin' and a-rasslin' wif 
 Satan now gwine onto thutty-fo' yar, and dis am de f us' time I 
 done got roped in by de combination er Gospil an' draw. Go 
 out, sof'ly, niggahs." I want er rassle wif de dickshunary an' 
 de angel ob wrath er while, an' den git de mos' feasible words 
 an' club I kin fine, ter spress my feelin's ter Brer TOOT and 
 Brer ANGUISH. Trod sof'ly, niggahs trod out sof'ly." 
 
 They trod. 
 
 "WHUFFER YO' RISE DAT?" 
 
 THE VERY EXTRAORDINARY HAND HELD BY MR. JOHNSON. 
 
 THE Thompson Street Poker Club had an unusually quiet 
 game, with the luck steadily against Mr. TOOTER WIL 
 LIAMS, until an unusually tough jack-pot brightened up the 
 interest. Mr. WILLIAMS glanced across the table and saw the 
 eyes of Mr. Gus JOHNSON shining with the light of something 
 very big. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS passed. 
 Mr. WHIFFLES passed. 
 
THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 47 
 
 Mr. JOHNSON opened the pot with a defiant air and forty- 
 six cents in mutilated coin. 
 
 The dealer, Mr. RUBE JACKSON, came in. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS promptly raised the bet two .punched 
 quarters and a ten-cent stamp. 
 
 "Whuffer yo' rise dat ?" asked Mr. JOHNSON, whom this 
 extraordinary action excited. 
 
 " Nebber yo' mine," said Mr. WILLIAMS, sullenly. " Jess 
 yo' put up er shut up dat 's all. 
 
 " 'Spose I'se got three jacks an' rise you back ?" suggested 
 Mr. JOHNSON. 
 
 " And 'spose I'se got a flisk, eh ? Jess 'spose I's got a 
 flisk, niggah ; whar 's yo' three jacks eh ? " Mr. WILLIAMS 
 breathed very hard and glared at Mr. JOHNSON till even that 
 gentleman's vest buttons were cold. 
 
 Mr. JOHNSON faltered, ran his hand over twice, sized up 
 the pot, and decided he'd "jess call." They then proceeded 
 to draw cards. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS thought he 'd play what he had. 
 
 Mr. JOHNSON drew two cards to three tens and caught a 
 pair of nines. This considerably reassured him. He bet 
 thirty cents with the remark : " Now jess go ahead on dat 
 flisk jess fool away yo' substance much as yo' choose." 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS thoughtfully raised him forty cents and a 
 plug of tobacco. 
 
 Mr. JOHNSON saw the raise and retaliated by wagering a 
 plated watch-guard and a pair of spectacles, borrowed from the 
 Rev. THANKFUL SMITH who sat behind him. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS raised back. And so it went until there 
 was nothing left to bet except the lamp and table, which were 
 common property, inalienable under the constitution. 
 
 " Now, niggah," said Mr. WILLIAMS, " jess show down dem 
 jacks." 
 
 " I haint got no jacks," said Mr. JOHNSON. 'I was lyin'. 
 
48 THE THOMPSON STREET POKER CLUB. 
 
 I had three ten-speckers, befo' de draw. Show down yo' flisk ; 
 dat 's what / want ter see." 
 
 "Well, I haint got no flisk," said Mr. WILLIAMS. 
 
 " What has yo' got ? Show up yo' straight ?" demanded 
 Mr JOHNSON. 
 
 " Haint got no straight." 
 
 " Show up dat two par, den." 
 
 " Haint got no two par." 
 
 "What has yo' got, den, niggah ?" Mr. JOHNSON was be 
 ginning to have his suspicions. 
 
 Mr. WILLIAMS slowly and triumphantly skinned out three 
 jacks and a pair of trays. Mr. JOHNSON rose to leave the 
 room. 
 
 " I doan mine losen my substance, an' I doan mine a squar' 
 beat ; but I doan draw no mo' cyards agin a liar." 
 
 THE CLUB ADJOURNED. 
 
3. 
 
A Companion to THE THOMPSON ST. POKER CLUB 
 
 The Ifott freet o Club. 
 
 Bret Harte tells us that " for ways that are dark and 
 tricks that are vain, the Heathen Chinee is peculiar," and 
 the Secretary's minutes prove to us the truth of this 
 assertion. 
 
 We learn from the text of this book a fact never before 
 suspected, that humor can be found in a Chinaman : and 
 Mr. Michael Woolf has proven, in his niimerous illustrations, 
 that 'Melicans can derive genuine enjoyment from a 
 perusal of its pages. 
 
 Octavo, Boards, Covers in Colors, Price, 50 Cents, 
 
 DENIS DEBEBIAN'S "RACKET" SERIES OF HAND 
 BOOKS OF POPULAR GAMES OF CARDS. 321110. 
 Bound in unique style, representing a pack of playing 
 cards. Covers in colors. Each 25 Cents. 
 
 DRAW POKER FOR POKER PLAYERS. 
 
 AMERICAN WHIST. 
 
 THE GAME OF EUCHRE. 
 
 The most concise and handy books of reference for the 
 use of card players. 
 
 (Others in Preparation.)