Forty Years a Gambler on the Mississippi

by George H. Devol

I gave "Duke" the word, and he got right down to business and passed Dueane so quick that he did not know what to make of the old plug. After I got about 100 feet ahead of him, I looked back and told him to come on or he would have to pay for the wine. He tried very hard to catch me, but it was no use, as "Duke" was not that kind of a horse.

I was at the lake, out of my wagon, and had the blanket on the "Duke of Orleans," when Dueane drove up. I could see that he was not in good humor. He got and hitched his horse, and then we walked over to the hotel to get the bottle of wine. I began laughing at him, and wanted to know what he thought of the "Duke" as a $50 plug, when he let drive at me. I ducked my head, and he hit it a pretty hard lick. I started for him, but some of the officers jumped in between us and put a stop to the fight, and in a little while he apologized and we were drinking together. I could have whipped him, for I was in my prime at that time; but I was glad they separated us, as I did not want to have any trouble with the police.

While we were drinking and talking about the race, a great big colonel of a New York regiment, who was pretty drunk, spoke up and said, "I can whip any man that will do anything to Dueane."

I knew he had reference to me; but the room was full of shoulder- strapped fellows, and I did not want any of his chicken pie just then, so I paid no attention to his remarks. He kept on with his abuse, and I was just itching to get at him, but knew I would not stand a fair show unless some of my friends should drop in, which I expected they would do before long, as it was a little early for the town boys.

In a short time a friend of mine, by the name of Joe Summers, and a crowd of New Orleans boys came in. Then I knew I would have a fair show, so I walked up to the big colonel and said, "You are a big lubber, and can't fight just a little bit."

Up went his hands, but before he could lead off I gave him one under the chin, and he measured his length on the floor. My friends were all around us in an instant, and Joe Summers said that it should be a fair fight. I was ready to give him my head when he got up, but the big lubber said, "That will do."

In ten minutes after I knocked him down we were drinking wine together, and no one would have though we ever had a difficulty. He was so big that he thought he could bluff me; but he did not know that I was about the worst man in that part of the country at that time to bluff at any game, more especially at the game of fight—for I would rather have fought than not, and I did not think there was a man living in those days that could whip me in a rough- and-tumble.

We had several bottles of wine on the strength of our little misunderstanding. The result was, we were all feeling pretty good and liberal, and I do believe we opened 200 bottles of wine before 2 o'clock.

There were about seventy-five teams hitched around the hotel, and I knew when their owners started home they would get to racing on the shell road, and some of the horses and buggies would get hurt; so I told a stable-boy to put my horse up, and I would wait until morning. A few of the others did the same thing, but the balance started, and some of them were so drunk that they could not see the road, although it was as white as marble. The next morning after I had eaten my breakfast I had my team brought out, and started for the city. The wine of the night previous had done its work, for I saw seven buggies, or parts of them, strewn along the road. Dueane had run into the toll-gate, and came near killing himself and his horse.

Wine is a great worker when one gets too much of it inside. It gave employment to the buggy-makers, and put me to bed on that occasion; and I was glad of it when I saw the wrecks it had made of my boon companions of the night before.