Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 January 1884 — Mr. Williams’ Sof' Spec. [ARTICLE]

Mr. Williams’ Sof' Spec.

At the Thompson Street Poker Club Rev. Thankful Smith was relating the experiences of the previous meeting, when, with the saddened air of one who had lost liis grip on his reputation. Mr. Tooter Williams and tlie odor of a Bowery cigar entered together. “What de madder, Toot?” inquired Mr. Smith, with the easy familiarity of a man in luck. “Y'ou looks ’spondent.” “I done loss dat sixty-fo’ dollahs 1 winned on de boss race,” responded Mr. Williams, gloomily. The deepest, interest having been aroused, Mr. Williams proceeded to enlighten the members as follows: “I was standin’ in a do'on Sixth avenyou, on’ np comes a wite man in a ping iiat, an’ sezee, ‘Why, heel-10, Mr. Robinson, how is yO?’ ” “Bunko!” remarked Mr. Smith, with the ail - of one who had had experience. “Dat’s wkad I thought,” said Mr. Williams, “but I kept sliet. So I sez to him, ‘How is yo?’ ” “I’se a -stranger yar, Mister Robin- . sofr,’ sezee, ‘an’ I mus’ say I never did see so many mokes togidder as dev is on Sixth auenyou, Dey’s mo’ mokes dan wite pussons.’ ‘Oh, no,’ sez I, ‘dey’s ms’ wite pussons dan mokes.’ Til bet yo’ two to one dev isn’t,’ «ezee. ‘All right,’ sez I. So off he goes an’ comesback wid a fren’ who weighed bout two hundred a bad eye/’ “Y'ou had a soP spec," obscfved'iMf/Smitli.

“Den,” continued Mr. Williams, not noticing the interruption, “sezee, ‘Now we’ll bofe put up a humled dollalis vis dis genelman, an’ stan’ yar in de do’, Every wite man passes he’ll give yo’ two dollahs, an’ every moke passes he’ll give me a dollak.’ ” “Well,” said Mr. Smith, who was growing excited. "Well, fust dey comes along two wite men, an’ de man wif debad eye says dat was fo’ dollahs to my credit. Den comes six wite men an’ he say dat’s twelve dollahs mo’ fo’ me. Den comes along along a buck niggali and den I lose a dollak. Den fo’ wife men mo; den one niggali; den two niggahs; den seven wite men, an’ de man wif de bad eye he say I was 1 fohty-dollahs ahead.” De sofes’ lay I ever hear,” said Mr. Smith, w hose eyes were glistening over Mr. Williams’ winnings. “Den comes along fo’ white meli,” said Mr. Williams, “an’ de man wif a bad eye he say dat was eight dollahs mo’, and den —” here Mr. Williams paused as if his recollections had overpowered him. “An’ den?” echoed everybody, wildly excited. “Why, den,” said Mr. Williams, desperately, “dey comes around de cornah—” “De cops?” breathlessly asked Mr. Smith. “A niggali fnner’l,” said Mr. Williams.