I myself knew one Count Cog, an eminent gamester, who was a person so far from being of a credulous disposition, that he was an unbeliever in several points of religion, and the next door to an infidel; yet, as much as he was a stranger to faith, he was mastered and overpowered so far in his incredulity by the strange events which he had seen come frequently to pass from the predictions of this child, that he had commonly daily access to this boy to learn his more adverse and more prosperous hours of gaming. At first indeed he would try, when the child foretold him his ill fortune, whether it would prove true, and relying upon the mere hazard and turn of the die, he had always, as he observed, a run of ill luck on those forbidden days, as he never failed of good if he chose the fortunate hours directed by the boy. One time above all the rest, just before he was departing from Edinburgh, and when the season of gaming was almost over--most persons of wealth and distinction withdrawing for pleasure to their seats in the country--he came to young Duncan Campbell to consult, and was extremely solicitous to know how happily or unluckily he should end that term, as we may call it, of the gamester's weighty business, viz., play, there being a long vacation likely to ensue, when the gaming table would be empty, and the box and dice lie idle and cease to rattle. The boy encouraged him so well with his predictions on this occasion, that Count Cog went to the toyshop, brought him from thence a very fine ivory T totum, as children call it, a pretty set of painted and gilded little ninepins and a bowl, and a large bag of marbles and alloys; and what do you think the gamester got by this little present and the prediction of the boy? why, without telling the least tittle of falsehood, within the space of the last week's play, the gains of Count Cog really amounted to no less than 20,000_l_. sterling neat money.