Indiana State Sentinel

A Friendly Game of Poker
BY SOL SMITH

On the evening of our second day out from New Orleans, I found myself seated at a card table, with three of my fellow passengers, playing at the interesting game of Poker. Card playing was a very common amusement then, (1835) and it was not unusual to see half a dozen tables occupied at the same time in the gentlemen's cabin of a Mississippi boat.

I had sat down to the game for amusement, but on rising, at 10 o'clock, I found my amusement had cost me about sixty dollars! 'This won't do at all,' said I, thinking aloud: 'I must try it again to-morrow.' 'Of course you must,' replied one of the players, who happened to be an old acquaintance of mine from Montgomery, Alabama, where he had been a jailor for several years, and where he was considered a very respectable citizen. 'You must not give it up so,' he continued, following me out on the guard; 'to-morrow you'll get even.' I entered into conversation with my old acquaintance, whose name was Hubbell, or Hubbard—I don't remember which—we'll call him Hubbard—and he advised me by all means to try another sitting on the morrow. I suggested to him that a slight suspicion had crossed my mind that some of our party might be blacklegs—in other words, gamblers. He answered that the same thought had struck him at one time, but he had come to the conclusion that all had been fair. Before leaving me, my quondam friend told me that he had become a sporting man—he felt it his duty to inform me of it—but he assured me, upon his honor, (!) he would not see me wronged. Of course I believed him, and it was agreed that we should meet again.

Next morning, soon as the breakfast things had been cleared away, I found Hubbard and a friend of his, waiting for me at one of the card tables, and I took my seat with the hope of getting even—a hope that has led many a man to irretrievable ruin. I felt quite confident of winning back my losings over night, and my playmates gave me every encouragement that I should be successful. At it we went, playing with varying luck for about two hours. At about 11 o'clock, Hubbard's friend left us for a few minutes, to 'get a drink,' and the jailor and myself were left playing single handed. When the third hand left, we were using the small cards as they were called—that is, sixes and under: but Hubbard immediately proposed that we should take the 'large cards'—tens and over—which I agreed to as a matter of course. One thing I here observed—my friend the jailor, dealt the cards without shuffling. This made me resolve to watch him closely. Taking up my cards, I was agreeably surprised to find that I had an excellent hand. 'Now,' thinks I to myself, 'now is the time, if ever, to get even: if my adversary happens to have a decent hand, I shall do well enough.'

[The reader who does not understand the game of 'bluff'—or 'poker,' as it is generally called—may as well leave off here.]

I commenced the game by bragging a dollar—my adversary went the dollar, and five better—I went that and ten—he immediately put up the ten, and laid down a twenty, keeping his pocket book out, as much as to say, 'I am ready to go any amount you choose to bet.' After a moment's reflection, (all acting!) I go that and fifty.' 'All right,' replied the jailor, 'there it is—I go that and a hundred!' I here looked at my cards again, and affected to have great and tantalizing doubts whether I should go the hundred. 'Take back your last bet,' I urged; it is too much for either of us to lose; I begin to think I have been rash; take it back, and let us show our hands for the money already down.' 'No!' said Hubbard—'if you mean sporting, put up the hundred, or back out, and give me the money.' 'Can't do that,' I replied; 'I don't come from a backing out country—so there's the hundred—and as my pocket book's out, and my hand's in, there's another C.' This new bet seemed to please my friend Hubbard mightily. He answered it without a moment's pause, and went two hundred more! I now requested my opponent to permit me to show my cards to some of the bystanders, who were crowding the table in great numbers to see the fun—all considering me most undoubtedly 'picked up.' Hubbard would not agree that I should show my hand to, or take advice from any one. 'Play your own cards,' said he, reaching over, and gently compelling me to lay my cards on the table before me. 'Then,' said I, 'you tell me if three aces and two other cards can be beat.' 'Oh, yes,' he replied, with a self-satisfied air, and using the spit box—'they can be beat, certainly, but not easy.' 'Not easy, I think myself,' replied I—'therefore inasmuch as I think you are trying to bluff me off, I go the two hundred.' 'You do!' 'Yes I do—there's the money.' 'Any thing better?' inquired my adversary, insinuatingly, and leaning over to make use of the spit box again—all the time keeping his grey eyes fixed upon my countenance. 'Why—yes,' I answered—'since you have got me excited, I'll go something better—I go two hundred better than you.' Looking me steadily in the face, he said—'Well, you're a bold fellow, any how, for a novice—it takes all I've got, by hoky, but I go it—and if you'll let me bet on a credit, I should like to go back at you.' (Spit box.) Feeling confident of winning, I consented that he might do what he liked on a credit—provided I should be allowed the same privilege. 'Well, then,' said Hubbard, a little spitefully—'I go you five hundred better—on a credit.' (Spit box again.) 'The devil you do!' exclaimed I—'this looks like gambling; but since we're in for it so deeply, I go you the five hundred—and a thousand better—on a credit.' At this stage of the game, the third hand returned, and seeing at a glance how matters stood, requested to look at Hubbard's cards. 'No sir!' interposed I—'you must play your own hand!' at the same time motioning my opponent to lay down his cards, as I laid down mine. The carpet began to suffer about this time—the spit box was disregarded. The excitement among the passengers was great, and my ears received many a whisper that I was 'licked.' Hubbard took a long and earnest look into my eyes, and said slowly, but confidently, 'I go it—and—call you.' 'I suppose I'm beat,' said I—(Hypocrite that I was! I didn't suppose anything of the kind)—but turn over your papers, and let us see what you've got.' With one hand he gracefully turned over four Kings and a Jack, and, with the other, tremblingly 'raked down' a pile of bank notes, gold and silver, while a groan burst out from the spectators, who all seemed to regret my bad luck! 'You are as lucky as a jailor,' I remarked, as my friend began to smooth down the V's, X's, L's, and C's. 'By the bye,' he inquired, again resorting to the spit box, and looking patronizingly at me, 'I forgot to ask what you had.' 'Well,' I replied calmly, 'I think you might as well see my cards.' 'Ha! ha! Oh, I reckon you're beat, my friend,' he answered, 'but let's see your hand, at all events.' 'Here are the documents,' replied I—'there is my hand:' and I turned over my cards, one by one—'there's an Ace—there's another—and there's another!' 'A pretty good hand,' young man, remarked Hubbard—'three Aces!' 'What else have you?' 'What else? Why here's a Queen!' 'And what else?' asked every body. 'Another Ace! Four Aces!'

I looked over the table, and discovered the face of my lately elated friend had lost all color—the tobacco juice was running out of the corners of his mouth—the V's, X's, and C's, were dropped, and amazement and stupefaction were strongly imprinted on his features. A shout went up from the bystanders, and all hands were invited to take champagne at my expense.

It is scarcely necessary to say that the money 'bet on a credit' was never paid, nor was it ever expected to be paid. My friend Hubbard recollected that he had urgent business at Vicksburg, and left the boat. It so happened that the stranger who had played with us, also disembarked at the same burgh, where they met with a singular accident—being promiscuously hung, a few days afterwards, by a mob! Hubbard died 'game,' and spat upon the excited populace.

About a month after the adventure above related, I met a gentleman at Cincinnati, whom I instantly recognized as one of my fellow passengers on the Warren. After inquiring the state of each other's health, he asked me if I had played at the game of poker lately. 'Not since you witnessed the great game on board the Warren,' I replied. 'Do not play any more,' said he, assuming a serious air—'you are liable to be fleeced.' 'I saw you were in the hands of swindlers,' he continued, 'and when one of the fellows left the table, I noticed that he laid a pack of cards, he had been shuffling, near your adversary's elbow. As an experiment—passing by at the moment—I took the top card from the pack, and shoved it under the bottom—by which means you got the four aces intended for his partner, while he got the four kings intended for you; and thus the sporting gentlemen were caught in their own trap!'

Moral: Poker is decidedly a dangerous game to play at—particularly with a stranger—but when you find yourself in possession of four aces, go it with a rush!