St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1907-03-16


may or may not have been his
fault-it certainly was not his mis-
fortune.
He had arrived two days previous
ly at the little town of Coleman, TO
recuperate after a fatiguing winter
season.
Quite what his occupation was very
few people knew. He occasionally
backed horses--to lose; knew a lew
card tricks with which he amused
strangers; and a good many more
which he neither showed to them nor
amused them with. He was larry I
good pigeon shot; and an exception
ally clever billiard player.
Coleman had been recommended TO |
him by his bosom friend, Samuel Dug
ger, who was native OF the place.
On this particular afternoon he was
gazing mildly at the "Freemason
HoteP' debating whether ne shoulo
enter or not After few minutes
cogitation he sauntered in, and maze
for the billiard room.
Calling for a scotch and soda, he lit
cigarette, and stood watching pale
faced, lanky individual awkWardly
knocking the balls about the table.
DO you play?" queried that gentle
man, catching Mr. Hardon's interest
cd look.
"You can hardly call it playing,
he replied, hesitatingly. Seeing ne
made fairly comfortable living with
his billiards, this was perhaps
fact. Besides, I'm awfully out OF
practice"
som l." confessed the young
man; 81 was Just knocking the balls
about to see If / remembered the
yame."
well, I don't mind trying my
hand" murmured Mr.. Harden.
Right" cried the young man,
briskIy. what shall it be? Fifty
up?"
FIFTY up? Oh, that means we've
got to make SO points doesn't it?'
eyes," said the young man, chalk
ing the tip of his cue industriously;
"the man who makes SO first wins"
II see! Which ball do have!
| I've almost forgotten.
About 20 minutes play, when the
game stood 10 to IL, the young man
carelessly suggested having little
something up on it.
| well, I'm not gambler" stated
Mr.. Harden, "but don't mind half
dollar"
"Go ahead, then, it's your play"
playing ping-pong?" inquired a
gentleman who had entered whilst
the game was in progress, after the
two innocents had sent their balls
on the floor half a dozen times.
At the end of an hours play Mr..
Harden raced out winner by so to
, 46; and it is doubtful If he would
have won then had not the pale-faced
Young man sent his last two balls on
the ground.
Lets have another game" sug-
gested the loser, paying over his 90
| cents.
Don't forget they close at IL, =
extensively remarked the gentleman
who had been watching the game.
81 don't mind" answered Mr. Har'
don, ignoring this individual. Same
stakes?"
Lets have a decent bit UP on II
this time, seeing we're about level
! What do you say to ten dollars?"
|. go ahead, them" said Mr.. Harden
"See here" exclaimed the specta
tor who by his greasy appearance
seemed to be butcher, addressing
a MIR. Harden, you're both pretty bat
n players, but I rather fancy the Other
. chap is bit better than you"
1 "You do, do your" answered Mr.
Harden, blandly.
eyes! And in spite Of your win
/ ming the last game I'm ready to bach
, him"
n LET me see," reflected Mr. Har
o don, 81 won the game on strangt
t table"
"Then what'll you back him for?'
he asked, suddenly.
!. Same as the stakes. Ten"
= Done with you," said Mr.. Harden
y picking up his cue.
u The pale young man and his backe
u exchanged knowing glances.
go it, cried the former as hi
:. opponent bent over the table,
q And Mr.. Harden did "go it'' to tn
q extent of making beautiful littl
"a break of %.
~ Here, what do you call this?
clustered the greasy gentleman.
billiards" said Mr.. Harden, mile
r, ly. What did you think it. was
n Ping-pong?"
xt "shut up, Barker" said the youn
ut man, irritably, you put me out"
le Gritting his teeth he surveyed tn
to table darkly. The balls were too bat
% " placed for him to make NOR
than ten.
Muttering viciously, he gave plac
as TO Mr.. Harden and watched that gel
to tleman while he handled the bal
Iii as If they were alive.
1t Playing with rare skill, he put t.
1g gether an admirable Is.
st The landlord entered the room {
this moment and stood watching tt
game.
:, KNOWS how to play he observe
- to the butcher as Mr.. Harden mad
the winning stroke.
"Knows little too much for h
~ health" was the irritable reply.
VI knows little too much for Tor
90 at any rate" said the landlord, glan
ing at the scoring board.
Dr.. Mr.. Barker made no reply: he WI