How Some Heavy Stakes Were Won at Old Sledge.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 192, 19 February 1887, Page 8

How Some Heavy Stakes Were Won at Old Sledge.

The story is told of a great game at " old sledge " which was played in the Gonzalo saloon in New Orleans, in the old flatbottom boat days. One day a boatman who sauntered into the place was watching the play, and at the fame time had his gaze fixed on the large silver buttons which ahone on Gonzsrlo's coat. After a while the boatmen, who was recognised a8 " Bower*," challenged Gonzalo to a game of old sledge at 50, dole, a side. The two went at it, and at firet Bowers lost, but after a while be began to win. At firet every second game, then two out of every three. At three o'clock in the afternoon Bowers was 1,800 dole, ahead, and the Mexican had awakened to a decided interest in the game. He proposed to increase the bets to 100 dola., which offer was promptly accepted. At four o'clock Bowers had 4,000 dols, in gold ahead. Gonzalo was somewhat pale, but there was not a tremor in his hand. He explained that they had nearly reached the limits of his pile, but would play two more hands for scO dols. each. Bowers won both. The Mexican rose from the table and shook hands with his antagonist, and both adjourned to take a glass of wine together. The gain was the talk of the town for a number of days, and Gonzalo was teased considerably about it by his comrades. All this seemed as nothing, however, when he received a note written in a bold scraggy hand, saying— Pardner— Et's too good to keep, so I'll tell et to you. When you play with a Gringo t&ke^off that ar' green coat and Bilver buttons. I eeed every hand you held rite in those buttons, like looking inter a looking-glass. Much 'bliged for the cash, all the same.— Yours till deth, Bowers.— "New York Times."

A zealous antiquary, looking for Dryden's houee in Fetter-lane, the other day, made some inquiry of the policeman. " Drydeo, air," Baid the latter, •« Dryden? la he a man a little backward in his rent ?" •' Doctor," said a despairing patient to, his physician, "lam in a dreadful state; I can neither lay nor set. What shall I do?" "Why, then," replied the doctor, very gravely, *'I think you had better— roost." The gradual disappearance of the handorgan grinder from our streets is, perhaps, an evidence of the progress of musical taete, which, though unnoticed by our historians of music, ia none the lees significant.