Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 103, November 12, 1892 by Various


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Page 2

_Miss D._ (_with secret delight_). I won't advise any more. What are
you going to back?

_Mr. C._ We really ought to be dancing--but I'll try my luck once more
on No. 4. I shall put on _two_ francs this time.

_Miss D._ Shall you? How reckless! I heard someone say just now that
No. 1 hasn't won for a long time.

_Mr. C._ I took your advice once too often. There--4's going to
win--see how he's going round--no, he's passed.

[_A horse with a yellow flag, labelled No. 1, stops close to
the post._

_Croupier._ L'As, impair, et jaune!

_Miss D._ Didn't I tell you so?

_Mr. C._ You only said _I hadn't_ won--not that he _would_. If you had
spoken more plainly--! I don't think much of _this_ game--I've dropped
four francs already. How about that dance?

_Miss D._ (_ironically_). It would be rather a pity to go away without
getting all that money back, wouldn't it?

_Mr. C._ (_seriously_). Perhaps it would. You're sure you're in no
hurry about this dance?

_Miss D._ On the contrary!

_Mr. C._ Well, look here, I'm going to put on a five-franc piece this
time--so be careful what you advise.

_Miss D._ Oh, I really couldn't undertake such a responsibility.

_Mr. C._ I shall follow this man then, and back five. (_He does; the
horses spin round, and the race is won by a horse with a tricoloured
flag labelled No._ 5.) There, I've done it without you, you see.
(_The Croupier pushes a heap of ivory counters towards him, which
he takes up with trembling hands._) I say, I scooped in thirty-five
francs over that! Not bad, is it? I'm glad I waited!

_Miss D._ Yes, it's better fun than dancing, isn't it?

_Mr. C._ Oh, lots--at least I didn't mean _that_ quite--

_Miss D._ Didn't you? _I_ did. What are you going to back next?

_Mr. C._ Well, I must just have one more turn, and then we'll go and
get that dance over. I'm going to plunge this time. (_He spreads his
counters about the board._) There, I've put five francs on each colour
and ten each on 8 and 9. You see, by hedging like that, you're bound
to pull off _something_!

_Miss D._ (_as the horses spin round_). All the yellow flags are out
of it.

_Mr. C._ Doesn't matter, 9's red, and he's going first-rate--nothing
to beat him!

_Miss D._ Unless it's 5, and then you lose. (_No._ 5 _wins again._)
How unfortunate for you. 5 generally _does_ win twice running,
somehow.

_Mr. C._ (_with reproach_). If you had thought of that a little
sooner, I shouldn't have lost twenty francs! (_A player rises, and_
Mr. C. _secures the vacant chair._) More comfortable sitting down. I
must get that back before I go. I've got about twenty francs 'left,
I'll put five on yellow, and ten on 9. (_He does._ Croupier. "_Deux,
pair, et rouge!_") Only five left! I'll back yellow again, as red won
last. (_He does._ Croupier. "_Quatre, pair, et rouge!_" _He turns to_
Miss D. _for sympathy._) I say, did you ever see such beastly bad--?
_A Frenchman_ (_behind him_). Pla�t-il? _Mr. C._ (_confused_). Oh,
rien. I wasn't speaking to _you_, M'soo. (_To himself_.) Where
on earth has that girl got to? She might have waited! She's gone
back to the balcony! (_He goes out in pursuit of her._) Oh, I say,
Miss--er--DAINTREE, if you're ready for that "_Pas de Quatre_," I am.
Hope I haven't kept you waiting.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Fri 29th Mar 2024, 13:31