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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 15, January, 1859"

I don't think
you should meddle with such things; they are too big for you. Let the
rich fools gamble, if they want to; if _they_ lose, they can afford it,
and nobody cares but to laugh at them. Oh, John, you promised me you
wouldn't gamble any more."
"Well, I don't gamble. I haven't been to a faro bank for a year. I stay
away just to please you, although I know all the chances, and could
break the bank as easy as falling off a log."
"You don't gamble, you say, but you are uneasy till you put all your
money at risk on those paper things. I don't see the difference."
"You _needn't_ see the difference; nobody asked you to see the
difference. Gamble, indeed! there isn't a man on the street that
doesn't keep an eye on the paper things, as you call them."
"You see what I told you. You are cross. You like anything better (_a
sob_) than your poor (_another_) neglected wife."
The sobs now thickened into a cry, and, with streaming eyes, she picked
up the puny child and declared she was going to bed. To this proposal
the moody man emphatically assented. But as Mrs. Fletcher passed near
her husband, the child reached out its slender arms and caught hold of
him by his cravat, screaming, "Papa! papa! I stay, papa!"
"Let go!" roughly exclaimed the amiable father.


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