Authors, American -- 19th century -- Biography; Humorists, American -- 19th century -- Biography; Twain, Mark, 1835-1910
He began again, and played more carefully, but still with too much
lightsomeness; he couldn't seem to learn to take the situation
seriously. He made about a dozen caroms and broke down. He was irritated
with himself now, and he thought he caught me laughing. He didn't. I do
not laugh publicly at my client when this game is going on; I only do it
inside--or save it for after the exhibition is over. But he thought he
had caught me laughing, and it increased his irritation. Of course I
knew he thought I was laughing privately--for I was experienced; they
all think that, and it has a good effect; it sharpens their annoyance
and debilitates their play.
He made another trial and failed. Once more he was astonished; once more
he was humiliated--and as for his anger, it rose to summer-heat. He
arranged the balls again, grouping them carefully, and said he would win
this time, or die. When a client reaches this condition, it is a good
time to damage his nerve further, and this can always be done by saying
some little mocking thing or other that has the outside appearance of a
friendly remark--so I employed this art. I suggested that a bet might
tauten his nerves, and that I would offer one, but that as I did not
want it to be an expense to him, but only a help, I would make it
small--a cigar, if he were willing--a cigar that he would fail again;
not an expensive one, but a cheap native one, of the Crown Jewel breed,
such as is manufactured in Hartford for the clergy. It set him afire all
over! I could see the blue flame issue from his eyes. He said,
"Make it a hundred!--and no Connecticut cabbage-leaf product, but
Havana, $25 the box!"
I took him up, but said I was sorry to see him do this, because it did
not seem to me right or fair for me to rob him under our own roof, when
he had been so kind to us. He said, with energy and acrimony:
"You take care of your own pocket, if you'll be so good, and leave me to
take care of mine."
And he plunged at the congress of balls with a vindictiveness which was
infinitely contenting to me. He scored a failure--and began to undress.
I knew it would come to that, for he was in the condition now that Mr.
Dooley will be in at about that stage of the contest on Friday
afternoon. A clothes-rack will be provided for Mr. Dooley to hang his
things on as fast as he shall from time to time shed them. George raised
his voice four degrees and flung out the challenge--
"Double or quits!"
"Done," I responded, in the gentle and compassionate voice of one who is
apparently getting sorrier and sorrier.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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