Litchfield enquirer., 1872-07-25
From Harper's Magazine. EXPERIENCES OF ( GAMBLER.

Rfou aafP0rs $ MaSAAAo.
 ExPERlEMCES OF 4 GAMBLER.
 The London season of l343 was drawing rapidly to close.@ Already many sated votary of fashion, and many 8 jadsd mem Der of Parliament had escaped from the heated town, to seek, in the .repose of aa English country hoine, renewal of that stock of health and strength upon which London draws, annually such remorseless drafts. Happily for themselves, the English well understand how these drafts are to be honored when presented for payment; and. instead of transferring London, with its habits and fashions, to the sea-coast, and migrating thither in g body, they spread themselves through the length and breadth of their fair island; and in the privacy of a thousand happy homes they seek-not in vain-for those refreshing influences which contributerso largely to their lon gevity both in mind and body, and mould, in no slight degree, their national charac- ter.
 'sNow don't forget, Edward dear, that you have faithfully promised to take me into the country on next Saturday." said my young wife to me, as we sat at break fast in Belgravia, one bright July morn ing. "What between those horrid Law Courts and the House of Commons, I de- clare might as we'll have been. a widow, for all that have seen of my husband these last few months!''
 ''No, darling, won't forget" said 1, without lifting my eyes from the columns of the Times, which I was devouring with the keen appetite of business man. "But, merciful Heaven! what do I see here?''
 This exclamation, and the look of hor- TOT which accompanied it, soon brought my wife scampering round the breakfast table, and looking over my shoulder.
 "What is it?" +-
 ''There," said I, pointing mechanically to the announcement which had so much disturbed me. '.Read!'
 ana dh1 read aloud. in q tone wherein % sur, prise and modification struggled faintly for the mastery:
 "On the 2Oth of June, at Pesth, in Hungary, ceived at the storming of Buda, Major Arthur Leslie, of the Hungarian Army, aged twenty eight
 "And pray, Edward" asked my wife, gently, "who is this Arthur Leslie, whose death affects you so deeply, but whose very name is unknown to me? Has he anything to do with that dear old Mrs. Leslie who is so fond of you, but about whom you are always so reserved and mysterious?"
 "He was her only child was my greatest benefactor," I answered, solemn ly. "Annie, dearest, forgive me for hay ing had secret to the knowledge of which I could not admit even yOu. This evening you shall know the whole of poor Arthur's story. It is too long to tell you now, and my first and most pressing duty is to see Mrs. Leslie without moments delay. Heaven grant that she may already have heard this dreadful news, and that may be spared the misery of having tQ break it to her!''
 It was past eight o'clock in the evening when I returned to my snug home. The bright July morning had, with the prov erbial fckleness of the English summer climate, changed into a rainy and chilly evening, A ray of comfortable first I had that day experienced-shoc into my heart as opened the door of my library, and was salured by the bright light of a fire burning cheerfully on the hearth, and by the still brighter light of my wifes welcoming smile as she ran forward to greet me. She was anxiously expecting me. But saw that she endeavored, with the tact and innate delicacy of a woman, to conceal from me the curiosity which the event of the morning had so powerful ly awakened in her. She remembered only the deep emotion which I had be- trayed, and she left it to me to approach the subject of that emotion at the time and in the manner least painful to, my self. did not keep her long in suspense.
 We hurried with American rapidity through that meal which in London is called "dinner," but to which the wisdom of every other country has given the more appropriate name of "supper. Quickly escaping from the dining room, we drew our chairs close to the fire in my cheerful library, our favorite haunt; and I proceed ed at once with my tale. l.. .....-...
 s'It is now more than seven years since. made Arthur Leslie's acquaintance. Be- fore II tell you where I first met him, I must detain you for while among some scenes of my own early life and history, to knowledge of which have never be- fore admitted you, and to which never revert in my own thoughts without pain and humiliation.
 "You are aware that was educated at Cambridge, and that graduated there not without distinction. Shortly after ward I was called to the bar, and inn mured myself in some dingy chambers in the Temple. Like many a young lawyer, I dattered myself that I was in love with my profession, and that it would cost me little to scorn delights, and live laborious days;' and absolutely terrified my poor dear mother with the picture which I drew of the savage ferocity of my intend ed studies, My old Cambridge friends laughed at my threats; for they knew that had competency, than which nothing is supposed to be more fatal to success ct the bar; and they recollected that at .col- lege I had always been famous for lov- ing whist better than comic sections, and that I had astonished the world, and no one more than myself, by the position which I gained upon the list of wranglers.
 However, I began pretty we'll, and avoided many of the snares to which young lawyers in London are exposed not from any merit of my own, but chiefly because they were not temptations to me. How little strength I had in the presence of real temptations I shall soon be com pelled to confess
 sT stuck closely to law-calf during one winter, and during the whole London sea- SOu Wu4Cu 4OAOWcA, Uut W1cu tu6 OT08fY autumn set in began occasionally to look round my lonesome chambers, and to ask myself whether should ever get brief, and if so. whether I should do justice to the solemnity of the occasion. Before long became less and less constant to my uninviting chambers, and more and more alive to the Oxford and Cambridge Club, where met the cheerful faces of old college friends and of pleasant men of the world.
 ''I have already hinted that I had been Q keen whist-player in my Cambridge days. I had that natural liking and apti- tude for the game without which no man ever becomes first-class player; and long before left college had the reputation (which I own that deserve6 of playing better hand at whist than any of my contemporaries. Such fascination did the game possess for me, that many time have sat for hours in my room, with mathematical books and instruments lying neglected before me, while played oyer in fancy the ruhbers of the night be