St Valentine's Day.
About the beginning of October, turkeys, young and old, move from their breeding districts towards the rich bottom lands near the Ohio and the Mississippi.
So this is your birthday again. Well, bless my soul! Columbia, you will be as tall as your father soon.
The subjoined engraving, the design of which is from the graceful pencil of Rowse, is more eloquent than words.
The fairy of the enchanted realm entertains her subjects in an earthly way.

"Bet anything you've got," is the rule of the house at a faro game in Gold Hill, Neb.
"You've pretty near broke me," Jim Tuttle said to the dealer, the other night. "I'm out my roll of $200, and that wrong call gave you my watch and chain. What can I bet you now on the ace-queen?'
"Anything you've got, Jim," said the dealer. "We'll pull cards for anything we can get stuff out of. We can't risk stuff against wind, though. We must have the collateral."
"Can you get stuff out of this?' inquired the broken tiger-backer. "Here's collateral. 'Bet anything you've got,' you said. This is all I've got."
There was a rush from the table and a wild bolt from the room as Jim drew from his pocket a big rattlesnake, and stretching forth his hand laid it loose on the high card end of the layout. "It's all I've got," he said. "Let him go for a tenner, ace to the queen, dealer."
The dealer was not moved to the point of abandoning his cash drawer. He declined to turn cards for the remarkable stake offered him. He was, however, in mood to be conciliatory. He threw out a $20 note saying: "Call in your snake, Jim. That will do for to-day. Don't play any more. You couldn't win a shoestring with a thousand dollars. Take that and go home."
Jim pocketed the $20 first and his pet rattler a moment later. He went out into the night to buy a drink and struggle homeward.
"The snake is a winner, anyhow," he muttered. "I can't lay 'em down without they fly away from me. The rattler is better than I am. I'm no good. I must hang to him and play him again."
Illustrated Police News, July 26, 1890.



