Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-01-05
"Old January"

Ira Jcnree, the veteran gambler who
died of old age and general debility at
the Gedney House on Monday. saws the
New York Tribune, was known to the
sporting fraternity throughout the
Union as ''Old January" He began
his career as a gambler about 1854,
previous to which he was card writer
at the st. Nicholas Hotel His first
experience as the proprietor of
gambling-house was at Broadway and
Fulton streets. His partner was Ed
ward Kline, who died years ago leav-
ing fortune of $500, 900. ''Old Jam
uary amassed a snug sum here and
afterward opened an esta blishment at
No. 3fS Broadway, which was extern
sIYely patronized by southern lovers
OF faro. Later he opened a game at
No. Barclay street, which fiourished
for long time. He was also inter-
ested in house in Twenty-eight
street.
In the course of his gambling career
he ma lie and lost six or seven fortunes.
At one time his wealth was estimated
at 100000. He was over 20, and died
almost destitute. Many gamblers of
this city knew him when he was a
''high roller" and more than one
| helped him when he was actually in
need of a meal and place to sleep.
| He leaves a wife.
''Old January swore by the code of
honor, yet his notoriety was gained by
q desperate shift which the most I'M
scrupulous gambler of to-day would
scarcely have the courage to try. The
~ of fol 81 !,
self and the late John Morissey
youched for its truthfulness.
1t was the winning of fortune on
the wager of q lozenge that made him
famous among his kind. He had
risked and lost his last dollar at Nor
rissey & Dancers combination game
| in Broadway, near Bond street, and
the dealer was waiting to go on with
the play.
Il was lost for bit, "Old January"
used to say in telling the story. land
was about to shell out for home when
something like an inspiration came to
me. While fumbling in my pocket /
found a lozenge. l pulled it out in
thoughtless kind of way, and when
my eye lit on it l saw that it looked
like a check. Without saying a word
L laid the lozenge on a card and cop
pered it, The dealer thought it was
all right and the game went on. Luck
was my way; [ won, and the dealer
showed a dollar check to me across
the table. l wagered the check and
won again, and when left the table [
had $4,000. Next day it grew to S.
900, and before the end of the week it
was $40, 000-every dollar won on the
wager of that lozenge."
When asked if he was nervous while
the lozenge was doing duty as a check,
he said:
sit was the greatest trial of my life,
| think. Excitement and dread of
losing made me perspire and tremble
all over. If had lost my reputation
might have suffered seriously, you
see"
The old gambler had no respect for
the value of money. Dollars were
mere playthings to him, and ne
wagered fortune with as much indif-
ference as an amateur wagers beans.
He gambled with one foot in the grave.
Though i'll and almost destitute he
visited his old haunts until two weeks
before his death, "bucking the tiger"
with his last cent. He paid his debts
with scrupulous prohptness. At the
Gedney House, where he breathed his
last, he did not owe dollar.