The Mt. Sterling advocate. (Mt. Sterling, Ky.) 1890-current, 1897-02-09
HIS LAST GAME.
IL Wa Deaths Play. and the Move Wa
Never Made.

1
champion checker player of that
country, and he had downed every
man, stranger or citizen, who came
along. There was something about
this stranger which made Uncle
Brill suspect that he was a good
player. So he DOTTED his hat and
said:
II begs your pardon, but mebbe
you play game of checkers now
and then to pass away the timer"
! "Mebbe / do when kin find any
body as knows the noble game, re-
piled the stranger.
Didn't you ever hear of Uncle
Brill of this towns"
mo, never did. Is he jumper
or what2"
His best holt is checkers, sir He
hasn't lost a game in the last 20
years.
"Mebbe you might be the critter
yourself2" queried the stranger as
he looks the old man over
"Mebbe / ar. Yes, sub, that's
my name, though I'm not generally
alluded to as a 'critter. -
'And you know how to play
checkers2"
Il reckon / dew"
THAT'S good. I've got week off,
and I'm glad to find somebody to
amuse me. Come to the tavern after
supper.
When Uncle Brill left home that
evening, he told his wife he might
be gone two hours. The stranger
was waiting for him, lot of oilers
had gathered, and the game began
at once. After two or three moves
had been made each player saw that
he had an old hand to deal with and
began to hedge. There was no hurry
about playing The stranger lay
back in his chair and told about the
celebrated games he had played with
celebrated people, and Uncle Brill
followed suit, and when mid
night came only four or five moves
had been made. AS the spectators
all departed the man said to Uncle
Brill:
"Mebbe your wife will be anxious
about you, and mebbe you want to
go home and give this game to me2"
''Mebbe l sot down here to sot fur
three days if necessary" replied
the old man, and the game went on.
The pair were left alone in the
barroom, and at daylight neither of
them had king. At 10 o'clock in
the forenoon the stranger got the
first one. Neither had stopped for
breakfast, but after every move the
stranger would lie back and tell a
story which consumed the next
hour. At noon Uncle Brill got a
king, but night had come before
each had pair. The game went
right on through the evening up to
right on into another day,
and both were as watchful and Wig
liant as ever. At noon word was
brought to Uncle Brill that his COW
had died, but he would not abandon
the game. AT night he got word |
that his old woman was very sick,
but he still stuck. At midnight,
when they were left alone again,
the stranger said:
"Old man, you'd better give it up |
and go home. It'll be ag'in your
reputation, of course, but you'll hey |
to make the best of it," Fl
I've sot out to sot here till win |
this game or der was the reply, !
and the game went on.
An hour after daylight the first |
corners found Uncle Brill bending
over the checker board, with his
hand on king as if preparing for
move. The stranger was. leaning
back in his chair and telling story
OF how he once played a game which
lasted seven straight days. The Wis
ltors came and spoke to the old
champion, but he made no answer.
Then they laid hand on his shout
der and found that he was dead.
Dead, eh 2" queried the patent
gate man. well, I've been wonder
ing for the last hour why he didn't
move his king, but there was no
hurry about it-no hurry. / figured |
that it would take three days more
20 play the game, and I'd hev to
beat him for sure Philadelphia
Press.