American literature -- Humor; American wit and humor
"Why, Captaing," drawled out the wood merchant, with a sort of leer on
his yellow countenance, which clearly indicated that his wood was as
good as sold, "wood's riz since you went down two weeks ago; besides,
you are awar that you very seldom stop going _down_--when you're going
_up_ you're sometimes obleeged to give me a call, becaze the current's
aginst you, and there's no other woodyard for nine miles ahead; and if
you happen to be nearly out of fooel, why--"
"Well, well," interrupted the Captain, "we'll take a few cords, under
the circumstances," and he returned to his game of brag.
In about half an hour we felt the _Caravan_ commence paddling again.
Supper was over, and I retired to my upper berth, situated alongside and
overlooking the brag-table, where the Captain was deeply engaged, having
now the _other_ pilot as his principal opponent. We jogged on
quietly--and seemed to be going at a good rate.
"How does that wood burn?" inquired the Captain of the mate, who was
looking on at the game.
"'Tisn't of much account, I reckon," answered the mate; "it's
cottonwood, and most of it green at that."
"Well Thompson--(Three aces again, stranger--I'll take that X and the
small change, if you please. It's your deal)--Thompson, I say, we'd
better take three or four cords at the next woodyard--it can't be more
than six miles from here--(Two aces and a bragger, with the age! Hand
over those V's)."
The game went on, and the paddles kept moving. At eleven o'clock it was
reported to the Captain that we were nearing the woodyard, the light
being distinctly seen by the pilot on duty.
"Head her in shore, then, and take in six cords if it's good--see to
it, Thompson; I can't very well leave the game now--it's getting right
warm! This pilot's beating us all to smash."
The wooding completed, we paddled on again. The Captain seemed somewhat
vexed when the mate informed him that the price was the same as at the
last woodyard--_three and a quarter_; but soon again became interested
in the game.
From my upper berth (there were no state-rooms _then_) I could observe
the movements of the players. All the contention appeared to be between
the Captain and the pilots (the latter personages took it turn and turn
about, steering and playing brag), _one_ of them almost invariably
winning, while the two passengers merely went through the ceremony of
dealing, cutting, and paying up their "anties." They were anxious to
_learn the game_--and they _did_ learn it! Once in a while, indeed,
seeing they had two aces and a bragger, they would venture a bet of five
or ten dollars, but they were always compelled to back out before the
tremendous bragging of the Captain or pilot--or if they did venture to
"call out" on "two bullits and a bragger," they had the mortification to
find one of the officers had the same kind of a hand, and were _more
venerable_! Still, with all these disadvantages, they continued
playing--they wanted to learn the game.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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