NOT THAT KIND OF A MAN.

Patea Mail, Volume II, Issue 164, 4 November 1876, Page 3

NOT THAT KIND OF A MAN.

The Rev. Dr P., the other day, found a pack of playing cards in the possession of his eldest boy, and, after giving +-ho lad a thrashing for owning such-engines of Satan, the Doctor placed the cards in his oWn pocket, intending to destroy them at the first opportunity. But lm forgot about them, and subsequently while in the cars on the way to the city he pulled out his handkerchief and the ‘cards fell on the floor. The Doctor gathered them up, with a very red face, hud while he was arranging them in his hand he saw a rough looking man in Ids seat, opposite to hinij while at him. He turned his head away, but upon looking around a moment later the man winked at him again. Then he winked several times, and finally ho entile over, and sitting down by the side of the Doctor) he said ; i( I say, pardner, what’s your little game ?” “ I do not understand you sir,” replied the Doctor. “ Oh, you needn’t mind mb,” said the man, “ I am doing a little of that thing myself. Now, how do you work It ?” “ What do you moan ? How do I work what ?” “ Ah, yon know Well enough. What do You skin ’em on ?” “ Bkin them ? Skin who ?” Really, sir, your remarks arc incomprehensible to me.” “ Now see here, I understand the Whole thing. You are hunting Up somebody to play seveu-up with, ami you intend to beat ’em out cf their money. Now don’t you ?” “ You don’t know who yon are talking to.” “ Now, I'll tell You what I’ll do. There’s uo man on this earth that kin turn jacks fastcr’n I kin ; and let’s you and me start up a game on some of these fellers, ami I'll run three or four jacks up my sleeves, with a collple of aces maybe, ami when we got to town we’ll divide the.profits and go down and getting roaring drunk at the tavern. Is It a bargain ?” “ Yolt are a scoundrel, sir!” exclaimed the Doctor. “ Let me change Piy scat if you please.” “ Won’t do it ? Won’t club in with mo ami try a few games ?” Certainly not, sir.” “ Won’t lend me them jacks to put in my sleeve ?” “ You seem to forget that I am a clergyman, sir ?” t, Acler‘“——; oh, uo. You don’t moan to say that—that—-you ain’t a preacher • how, honest, arc yon ?” “ Yes, sir ; I am. I am the Rev. Dr P.” “ Too bad ! too bad I Blame me, if I didn’t think you were one of those fellers who play cards on the cars to gouge greenhorns out of their xnoUey. You’re like one, anyway; now, don’t you ? And what are yon doing with that pack’ old man, hey ? Would yon mind if 1 showed you how to run ’er over, so’s When yon play they can’t feel you ? I’ll do it for nothing.” Then Dr Potts wellt into the wind car and got off at the next station. When be got home he gave that boy a couple of extra floggings, in order to ease his feelings.—“ Detroit Free Press.”