Pete called to them, "That's not rouletty, that's faro, lady."
The parson added, "So called after Pharaoh's daughter."
"Who found a little prophet in the rushes on the bank," Shorty further explained.
But Faith was eagerly whispering to Hiram, "You know, Hiram, frequently people by just putting down fifty cents, or a dollar, walk out with millions." Then timidly she added, "I'd like to try it once."
"Faith Doolittle!" was all Hiram could exclaim, so great was his surprise at his wife's request. Truly, he thought, women were strange cattle. To think of Faith, so quiet, so serene all these years, and then—to see her now with flushed cheeks, hat awry, and an eager, feverish look in her mild eyes as she tried to draw him to the table.
"Oh," she pleaded, "only fifty cents' worth, Hiram. There couldn't be any harm in fifty cents' worth."
Behind his great hand Shorty convulsed the others by observing, "Mother's a sport, but father's near."
Hiram now realized that he must be firm and leave this place that was affecting so strangely his wife's conduct.
"You couldn't keep money got in that nefarious way, even if you won it," he explained; "you're a churchwoman."
"We could give some of it to the church," quickly reasoned Faith; "and, Hiram, we could do such a lot of good with a million. Just try fifty cents' worth." She made a further attempt to reach the table.