The Mott Street Poker Club
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The Mott Street Poker Club


The Club in Court

Showing How Justice Guffy Was Astonished


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THERE was no session of the club next day. The presence of the members was urgently required at the Tombs Police Court, where Justice Guffy had the case of the People vs. Gin-Sing in hand. All Mott Street turned out in honor of the occasion, and a select deputation from City Hall Place was headed by Signor Maccaronico, who had shaved himself for the event and put on a new green tie and yellow corduroy pantaloons. When Mr. Gin-Sing was introduced through the side-door, with bloodshot eyes and his new plug hat mashed to the semblance of a concertina, a groan of sympathy saluted him.

“Silence in the court,” commanded His Honor. “Now, then, child of Confucius, what have you been up to?”

“Me winnee plug hat,” replied Mr. Gin-Sing, in a humble voice.


Chinatown poker club


“Ah!” said His Honor, rather brisking up at this evidence of a sporting spirit, “you won a plug hat, eh; and then you had to christen it, I suppose?”

“Me chlisten him velly much heap,” replied Mr. Gin-Sing remorsefully.

Justice Guffy smiled knowingly.

“And then you fell all of a heap?” he said.

This being a joke, all the court officers laughed uproariously, while Mr. Gin-Sing’s eye gleamed with a flash of pride.

“Me chlisten. him allee samee Melican man,” he replied. “Dlink glin cockatailee, tleat evelybody, go play polkel.”

“Eh!” interrupted the Justice, becoming really interested, “hold on! Can you play poker?”

“Playee alle samee Melican man. Plenty acee in sleeve, jack pot, gloee blind, bettee muchee, takee pot.”

His Honor rubbed his nose thoughtfully, and interrupted again.

“And where do you play?”

Mr. Gin-Sing, drew himself up with dignity.

“Playee in club,” he answered.

“What club?”

“Mott Street Polkel Club.”

“They do be playin ivery afternoon in a wash-house on Mott Sthreet, your Honor,” explained the officer who had made the arrest. “And he kem in dhrunk yisterday an wanted to open a jack pot on a pair of thrays. The other washee-washees objected and he claned the place out as nate as I cud meself.”

“What’s that?” cried the Justice, indignantly. “He wanted to open a jack pot on a pair of trays?”

“Yis, your Honor.”

“My gracious!” gasped His Honor, “and yet they say the Chinese are intelligent animals.”

And he made it twenty dollars or thirty days. Mr. Gin-Sing’s friends paid the fine and took him out to buy him a new felt bat, with an umbrella brim.

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