THE BETTING-YOUNG-MAN.—ONE OF THE TERRORS OF A VOYAGE ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3216, 20 October 1881, Page 4

THE BETTING-YOUNG-MAN.—ONE OF THE TERRORS OF A VOYAGE ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.

We had on board, as a matter of course, the betting young man. No Bteamer ever sailed across the Atlantic that did not have this your.g fellow aboard, and there are enough of them to last for a great many years. He knew everything that everybody thinks they know, but do not, and his delight was to propound a query, and, when you had answered it, to very coolly and exusperatingly remark :— ' Bet yer bottle of wine you're wrong.' The matter would be so simple, and one of so common repute, that immediately you accepted thn wager, only to find that in some minute particular you were wrong, and that tbe Knowing youth had won. For instance : — ' Thompson, do you know how many St-tes there are in the TJnioD ?' Now any citizen in the United States who votes and is eligible to the Presidency ought to know how many States thera are in his beloved country without thinking, but how many are there who can say offhand ? And so poor Thompson answered : — ' What a question! Of course I know.' ' "Rpr yor bottle ye don't!' 'Done.' 'There are—' And then T hompson would find himself figuring the very important problem as to whether Colorado has been admitted, and Nevada and Oregon, and he would decide that one had and the other hadn't, and finally state the number, with great certainty that it was wrong. The betting man's crowning bet occurred the last day out. The smoking-room was tolerably full as Tere the occupantß, and everybody was bored, as everybody is on the last day." The betting man had been silent fo- mi hour, when suddenly he broke out: — 1 Gentlemen '— 'oli, no more bets,' was the exclamation of the entire party. ' Give us a rest.' ' I don't want to bet, but I can show you something curious.' ' Well ?' ' I say it and mean it. I can drink a glass of water without it going down my throat.' ' And get it into your stomach ?' ' Certainly.' There was a silence of considerably more than a minute. Every man in the room had been victimised by this gatherer up of in considerable trifles, and there was a general disposition to get the better of him in some way, if possible. Here was the opportunity. How could a man get a glass of water into his stomach without its going down his throat ? Impossible ! And so the usual bottle of wine was wagered, and the betting man proceeded to accomplish the supposed impossible feat. It was very easily done. All he did was to stand upon his head on the seat that runs around the room and swallow a glass of water. It went to his stomach, but did not go down his throat. It went up his throat. And so his last triumph was greater than all his previous ones, for every man in the room had been eager to accept his wager. From that time out had he offered to wager that he would swallow his own head he would have got no takers. —Toledo Blade.