HOW FRANK LOST HIS WATCH.
Play again he did accordingly; and, sure enough, he won. He brought Tucket to his last dime. The poetical and philosophic spirit in which that good-humored young man contemplated his losses, was worthy of a better cause.
"'Fare thee well, and, if forever, still forever fare thee well,'" he remarked, staking the said dime. And when it was lost,—for Frank "raked the pile,"—he added, pathetically, going from Byron to Burns, "'Fare thee weel, thou brightest, fairest; fare thee weel, thou last and dearest! Had we never loved sae kindly, had we never loved sae blindly, never met, or never parted, I had ne'er been broken-hearted.' Boys, I'm dead broke, and must quit off, without some of you that are flush will lend me a quarter."
"Ask Frank," said Ellis; "he's the flushest."
So Frank lent Seth a quarter, and with that quarter Seth won back all his money, and, in the course of two more sittings, cleaned Frank out, as the phrase is.
Then, one would say, Frank had a valid excuse to retire, if not before. He had risked his money, and lost it. Certainly nothing more could be expected of him. Seth grinned, and Jack Winch rubbed his hands with delight.
But now Frank was not content. His heart was gnawed by chagrin. He had not really wished to stop playing at all; for the sense of vacancy and craving which always, in such natures, succeeds the cessation of unhealthy excitement, is misery enough in itself. But to have left off with as much money in his pocket as he began with, would have been felicity, compared with the bitter consciousness of folly, the stinging vexation and regret, which came with his misfortunes.
"I'll lend ye, if ye like," said the good-natured Seth—perhaps in return for the similar favor he had received; or rather because he pitied the boy, and meant to let him win back his money; for, with all his mischief and drollery, this Tucket was one of the most generous and kind-hearted of Frank's friends.
The offer was gladly accepted; and Frank, praying Fortune to favor him, made a promise in his heart, that, if she would aid him to recover his losses, he would then bid farewell forever to the enticing game.
But the capricious goddess does not answer prayers. On the contrary, she delights to side with those who need her least, spurning away the supplicants at her feet.