On a table at the corner of the room lay a pack of cards, loosely
thrown together. The old gentleman reproved the man of the house
for encouraging so idle an amusement. Harley attempted to defend
him from the necessity of accommodating himself to the humour of his
guests, and taking up the cards, began to shuffle them backwards and
forwards in his hand. "Nay, I don't think cards so unpardonable an
amusement as some do," replied the other; "and now and then, about
this time of the evening, when my eyes begin to fail me for my book,
I divert myself with a game at piquet, without finding my morals a
bit relaxed by it. Do you play piquet, sir?" (to Harley.) Harley
answered in the affirmative; upon which the other proposed playing a
pool at a shilling the game, doubling the stakes; adding, that he
never played higher with anybody.

Harley's good nature could not refuse the benevolent old man; and
the younger stranger, though he at first pleaded prior engagements,
yet being earnestly solicited by his friend, at last yielded to
solicitation.

When they began to play, the old gentleman, somewhat to the surprise
of Harley, produced ten shillings to serve for markers of his score.
"He had no change for the beggar," said Harley to himself; "but I
can easily account for it; it is curious to observe the affection
that inanimate things will create in us by a long acquaintance. If
I may judge from my own feelings, the old man would not part with
one of these counters for ten times its intrinsic value; it even got
the better of his benevolence! I, myself, have a pair of old brass
sleeve buttons." Here he was interrupted by being told that the old
gentleman had beat the younger, and that it was his turn to take up