The midland journal., 1886-07-16
THE MIDLAND JOuRNA i

nearly Ell 900, and sat at the table with o
huge pile of notes, gold and / o Us in
front of him, looking the very picture of
despair.
"Cheer up, general" said the duke;
"well get it all back another nlght.
never fear"
"I'm afraid not" gronned the ancient
warrior. 81 wish 1 had never begun
this. ought to have known how it
would end"
blessed il ever saw a man make as
much fuss over losing as old Barnabas
does over winning!" said Sir Hector to
his friend in private. 81 wonder if he
would lend me bit. if he's so precious
shy about keeping it ?"
Weeks passed by, and the general
made several gallant efforts to lose the
money he had won, but without success.
Before the old man came" Buttershaw
would lament, sit was bad enough. I
used to lose a hundred or so o night;
but now, I assure you. I've lost over
FL, 500 to him within the last fortnight.
Why, he must have won thousands !"
One fine day Mr.. Punter Glanced to
be walking somewhat moodily down st.
James's street, when he was accosted by
friend whom he had not seen for some
weeks. and who happened to be men,
Der of n club called the Parthian, situated
within the immediate neighborhood.
"Come into my pothouse and have
drink, said Punter's friend, and Mr..
Punter assented.
Anything been going on here lately
in the card Liner" inquired the latter
gentleman.
"Not much here: but we've played
once or twice in Buttershaw's rooms. and
there's an old chap, pal of bus. WHO
wins like the very dewitt"
Really"
"4es; he's an admiral something
sounded like Burnaby, but it wasn't.
Used to be in the Chilian navy. White
haired old chap-we RS spectacles."
"You don't say so ?" said Mr.. Punter.
feeling very singular sensation.
"Why What do you mean ?"
"Nothingl nothing ! I'll have another
split, please"
Mr.. Punter left the Parthian. meditat-
ing much more gloomy than before. On
his way to Greville he met another
friend.
In
look previously solemn. Been losing
money!"
eyes, confound it !" replied Punter.
"Hows luck with you?"
mighty bad. Nearly broke. Met
chap in Buttershaw's rooms who cleaned
the whole lot of us out"
Mr.. Punter grasped at lamp-post for
support. "What was his uame I" lie
feebly gasped.
Barabbas. or something like il.
Ought to be Judas Iscariot An old
sinner. Says he's been Peruvian consul
at Odessa; don't believe there is any
Peruvian consul at Odessa, but I'm
going to q chap in the foreign office who
can find out. Ta-ta; you look mighty
bad; take care of yourself"
Mr.. Punter, in fact, felt very bad
indeed. Was it possible that, after all
his vast and varied experience, he had
been sharped and swiudled like a guile
less schoolboy?" The very idea was
torture, and he rushed on toward the
Greville; but before he arrived there
he remembered that Buttershaw had
invited him to dinner that very even
ing. and hs determined to do nothing
rash. He would consult the duke
Sir Hector and the rest and warn But
tershaw that he had been cherishing
viper. But perhaps Butershaw vas
In the plot himself, and Mr. Punter's
very brain began to reel with perplexity.
There was no one particular in the club,
so he spent the afternoon i'll n fever of
impatience. appeared at Mr.. Butter
shaw's chambers punctual to the minute.
He was the first to arrive, and lost no
time in questioning his host about their
mutual friend, the general.
Its very odd thing that old Rarna-
bas should always win," he began.
Eyes; isn't it ?" said Buttershaw.
innocently. IL can't understand il ut
ALL"
81 met two men today who have lost