Each Held Five Tens

1895

And One Little Poker Coterie Has Permanently Disbanded.

Four well known gentlemen eye each other askance now and try to figure out how each managed to win from the others in the many poker games they have played together. They can't for the life of then see how any of them could have lost, because they are all assured of their individual and collective crookedness. This may sound vague and involved, but it can be easily explained.

The other night the four gentlemen in question met at the room of a fifth, who had been a steady loser at the pastime and who had begun to think that his opponents were not altogether fair in their methods. In order, therefore, to test his theory he secured 13 decks of cards having the same kinds of backs and removed the ten spots from them, making a full deck of 52 tens. Early in the game he had a good hand beaten, and said he would try a new dock to see if it would change his luck, so he tossed the pack of tens over to the man who had the deal, and watched the fun.

Of course, each man received five tens. It was worth half a physiognomist's lifetime to watch the expressions upon the faces of the four victims of the plot. Each was evidently sure that an extra ten had gotten into the deck and each determined to get rid of it. The host naturally dropped out, and the betting before the draw was fast and furious. When it was over, each man called for one card. It may be imagined what consternation there was when each found he had gotten another ten.

The game broke up without a word, and there are four men walking around Washington now who wouldn't play cards with each other again if John Jacob Astor was to give each a big fat stake. — Washington Post.


Trivia

Iron has for ages been a favorite medicine. Nearly 100 different preparations of iron are now known to the medical chemists.

There are over 2,000 miles of gas pipes underlying the London streets.

Poker Prevents Seasickness

1895

"One of the surest preventives of seasickness is draw poker," said Hugh S. Royston of St. Louis. "I have tried it and am willing to recommend it as a sovereign remedy. I came across the Atlantic in the City of Paris. We had a rough voyage, and at times it looked as though the Paris was bent on turning bottom side up. The captain, however, said he never knew of such a thing, and as his nautical experience was great the passengers were somewhat reassured. But at the very outset of the trip I joined a party of five citizens of the United States, and we played poker day and night, with only needed intervals of sleep. The game was only for a small limit, but it was jolly and interesting, and it effectually banished the mal de mer. Now and then a player would leave just for a short space to commune with the deep, but would invariably get back in time to play his hand, and the game suffered no delay. Here was a clear case of mental excitement and diversion ruling the physical man, for outside of the poker party hardly a passenger aboard escaped a very prolonged sickness." — Washington Star.

Mistook Their Man

1895

How the Game of Poker Flourished In Georgia In the Good Old Days.

Speaking about cards and card players, there was a gentleman from one of the lower counties of Georgia telling his experience in the legislature a good many years ago, when he represented his county in the general assembly.

"Poker's a mighty funny thing," he said. "You never know when you have run against a good player. Take me, for instance. I was here in the legislature some time ago, and I know I didn't appear to be what you call up to date — not a bit of it. The members from Augusta and Macon and Savannah and the other cities thought they had a soft piece of pie when they got me in the first game. Well, I was well up. I had been playing the game a little more'n they expected to see in a fellow wearing the clothes I wore.

"Well, to make a long story short, boys, I was here in the legislature the whole of that session and had sent supplies home to the folks every now and then, built and paid for a new corncrib, bought the old lady a stove and a sewing machine and hadn't touched my per diem; which Bob Hardeman paid me in a bulk at the close of the session. Them fellers were surprised in their man." — Atlanta Constitution.

Wintersmith's Royal Flush

1895

A Lamented Kentuckian's Wild Romance of the Poker Table.

A company of gentlemen assembled in an up town hotel fell to relating poker stories, and several of rare excellence, even if not of the latest vintage, were recounted.

"The late Jim Wintersmith," said one of the party, "unwittingly told the very best poker yarn I ever listened to. He was the hero of his own story and laid the scene at Hot Springs, Ark. According to Mr. Wintersmith, he had experienced extremely bad luck in a series of plays and made up his mind to try one more sitting, after which, if he failed to recoup, he would never more touch a card. Likewise if he won out enough to get even he would cease the fascinating pastime.

"He weighed in, so to speak, and there was a good big jack pot opened while the game was still young. Wintersmith observed that his own hand contained a straight flush of the kind dubbed royal, as it ran from the ten spot up to the ace. He raised, of course, both before and after the draw, only one man staying with him to the end and having the pluck to call him. Of course he won a tremendous sum of money. He vowed that since that day he had never had the slightest inclination to sit in a game of poker.

"When Mr. Wintersmith had ended his story here, one of the group to whom he was narrating it innocently inquired, `What did the other fellow hold?'

" 'Four jacks,' replied Wintersmith. Then everybody broke into a laugh, and the gentleman from Kentucky had to own up that he had indulged in romance." — Washington Post.

A Lesson in Stud Poker

1895

It Cost the Tenderfoot All He Had to Learn That Four Aces Couldn't Be Beaten.

"Tell you what," said the passenger in the slouch hat and buckskin leggings, "this here country ain't what it used to be. Why, year before last I made $400 one night down in Denver in less than three hours."

"How was that?" inquired the nervous passenger.

"Playing stud poker," drawled the ex-gambler. "You see," he added, "it was just this way: The luck was all my way. I couldn't lose if I tried.

"Now, there is something queer about luck. I can almost always tell the minute I get in sight of a game whether luck is going to favor me or not. If luck is my way, I play for all I'm worth, but if it isn't then I quit.

"But about this particular night. Well, the luck, as I said before, was all my way. Twice I held four aces, and the last time I had three aces in sight and one down. The rest all dropped out but one tenderfoot chap. He had three jacks up and one down.

"I know the game was mine, of course, but I didn't want to scare him, so every time he boosted the pot for $5 I just h'isted it $1. Finally he shoved up $50, and I pushed out my pile.

"He said, 'You don't bluff me that way,' and pushed out his."

"Well, and what then happened?" asked the nervous one, with eager interest.

"Oh," replied the other carelessly, "I ran across him in a pawnshop next day. He had left his gold ticker in his room or I'd a-had that too." — New York Herald.

The True Poker Flat

1901

In 1852 Poker Flat produced $700,000 in gold bullion in a single month and celebrated the event with a triple hanging. Then came the public spasm of virtue which caused the John Oakhursts and the "outcasts of Poker Flat" to depart from thence and die of cold and starvation on the snow bound road to Sandy Bar. There are no "Oakhursts" nor "Uncle Billys" in Poker Flat today, and when the stranger makes the slow descent and suddenly by a sharp turn in the trail comes upon the famous camp he finds in that huddle of cabins little to remind him of the Poker Flat of 1852.

The famous slope presents almost a picture of utter ruin. There are but eight persons living in the old town, while a hundred dead ones sleep in the cemetery. Some of the graves are marked with wooden headboards, some with stakes, but many have nothing above them. Nearly all of them were laid to rest without religious rites save a Bible reading by old Charlie Pond, who, though a professional gambler, was selected for the religious office owing to his excellent voice and oratorical ability.

In 1853 and 1854 there were 2,000 souls in Poker Flat and 15 stores, 5 hotels. 3 dance halls and 7 gambling houses. There is but one man left today of that original company. He is an old and grizzled veteran, who delights to tell how in 1856 a circus came to town and sold 1,500 tickets of admission at $20 each. — W. M. Clemens in Bookman.

Film Star Called as Poker Witness

1920

Norma Talmadge to Testify in Peculiar Case

New Yorker Arrested, Accused of Cheating Celebrities Out of $350,000 at Cards

NEW YORK, N, Y., March 18. — The last card in Broadway's sensational stud poker season was turned down by Justice Kernochan in the Court of Special Sessions.

It was a warrant for the arrest of Louis Krohnberg, wealthy manufacturer of women's wear, at whose home Norma Talmadge and other New York celebrities are said to have lost approximately $350,000 by the use of marked cards.

Discovery of cheating, it is said, was made during the final game of the series played at the home of Joseph Schenck, husband of Norma Talmadge.

Exposed by Actress

Guests at the party, which was held on New Year's Eve, ascribe most of the credit for the detection to Miss Talmadge, whose husband brought about a dramatic denoument by betting wildly into Krohnberg's pair of aces with a pair of kings, and then kicking Krohnberg into the street on the show down.

At the hearing Jacob Silverman, who appeared as complainant, testified that he had lost $7,300 at Krohnberg's home, and, suspecting dishonesty, had taken away one of the decks used in the game. The cards, he said, were later found to be "readers," the fleur-de-lis on their backs being marked in such a way that the player in the secret could recognise them.

Huge Penalty Possible

All the participants in the games, including Miss Talmadge, will be required to testify when Krohnberg is brought to trial. In the event that Krohnberg is found guilty, five times the amount of the players' losses may be collected and distributed among charities designated by the State.

There is some dispute concerning the amount lost by the players. Mr. Silverman says $530,000 is an approximate estimate. Krohnberg's attorneys deny all the charges and display checks aggregating $68,000 indorsed by Mr. Schneck and others as payees, which, they say, represent losses suffered by their client.

She Swallowed 1,446 Pieces of Hardware

1911

Editorial Quips on the News

A post-mortem examination of a Missouri lady who had a mania for heavy diet resulted in the discovery of 1,446 separate articles of hardware in her little inside. If there is any truth in theosophy the lady was either a goat or an ostrich in her previous existence. (See note below and photo here. Click the photo for bigger version.)

A New York woman says she lost her respect for her husband when she caught him with five aces in his hand. She is perfectly right. A man who allows himself to be caught that way deserves no respect.

If that Buffalo man who would not give up a counterfeit bill to an agent of the government were to get the full penalty of $100 and a year's imprisonment he might think he had committed some real crime.

We have it from a Germany economist that American women will soon be forced to labor on farms like men. Here we have an outlet for the surplus energy of those fair damsels who seek "careers" in preference to husbands.

Most of those who tell about rearing a family and saving money on $1,000 a year do not have to and hence are better able to theorize in the abstract.

A florist in New Jersey turns his hennery into a summer garden with all sorts of flowers and is getting eggs of delicate flavor and various tints, violet, rose and carnation flavors being in the lead. A hen garden of this kind might be a handsome and useful addition to the combination clubhouse for the Ananias members and the nature fakers.

Note: The item about the Missouri lady with a mania for a heavy diet recalls someone who must have been another Missouri lady with the same problem, who I heard about while touring the psychiatric museum at St. Joseph, Missouri. At this site there's a small photo of the items, said to be more than 1,400, which were taken from the patient in 1929. Since I'm pretty sure my article is from 1911, and it specifically says "post-mortem," obviously this would have to be a different Missouri lady. The photo at the top is a photo I took of all the screws and things they said she had ingested. If you're ever in the area of St. Joseph, the museum is worth going to! Just don't let them keep you, which was what I was legitimately most afraid of.

Had Sure Thing at Stud Poker

Feb. 1920

Playing with Marked Cards, New Yorker Cleaned Up an Immense Sum

New York.—-A group of screen magnates and music publishers along Broadway has been fleeced out of $350,000 by a wealthy manufacturer with a deck of marked cards, whom they admitted to their private games. He was finally detected and thrown out of the house of the man who caught him. The World prints the story, calling the fleecer Mr. Trimmer and the other man Mr. Screen. It asserts it has their real names.

For a considerable time a group of twelve or fourteen men, all of ample means, have been playing stud poker. There were Mr. Screen, a big picture promoter and the husband of one of the prettiest and most talented stars; Mr. Flickers, of equal rank in celluloid productions; Mr. Circuit, who owns a flock of theaters; Mr. Ragg, who receives immense royalties from his song compositions, and others quite as well known in their respective fields.

Last summer, at Far Rockaway and Arverne, their ranks were augmented by Mr. Trimmer. He is a manufacturer on an immense scale of a certain article of women's wear, and is generally known as a millionaire.

They Thought It Was Luck

Mr. Trimmer's "uncanny luck," as the other players called it, was noticeable from the very start. In one session, for instance, which began on a Saturday night and continued into Sunday, he cleaned up more than $40,000.

The daring of Mr. Trimmer's play was what interested the others more than anything else. He would make bets against seemingly impossible odds — and win them.

Mr. Trimmer always knew what the other fellow's secret card was, when he was the dealer, and he always won. Also he always knew, when he held the deck, what card his opponent would get next, and what card he (Trimmer) was going to get next, for his cards were what is known to gamblers as "readers."

The design on the back of them — which meant nothing to others — told him exactly what denomination each pasteboard was.

At last, suspicion intruded, and one of the other men at a party which Trimmer had arranged pocketed a deck of Trimmer's cards and took them to a professional gambler for examination.

"They're readers," said the professional. At the corner of each card, on the back, was a design composed of four fleur-de-lis — the three leafed flower of France.

If the right hand petal of the flower at the upper right hand of the group was heavily shaded the card was an ace; if the center petal of that particular flower was accentuated, it was a king; if the shading was on the left hand petal it was a queen.

There were four flowers, each with three petals. The shadings, therefore, stood for 12 different cards, according to where they were placed, these cards ranging down from the ace to the deuce. If no petal was shaded the card was the deuce.

An exposure was planned at Screen's house. There were eight players. Trimmer, on a few hands off square cards, lost $650. Then he produced a deck of his sort. As soon as Screen saw the marked cards he exposed the cheat to his guests and proceeded to beat Trimmer up, winding up by throwing him out of the house.

"Auto Poker" New Form of Gambling

1906

"Automobile poker," a new form of gambling in public, has struck this city and is spreading from the sea to the Yonkers line. Along the avenues approaching the Sheepshead Bay race track men and boys in groups are playing "automobile poker." On Fifth avenue, Broadway, Madison avenue, and all auto favored thoroughfares, automobile poker is indulged in, evidencing that the new "bug" has taken hold, for the time being, at least,

The game is played thus: Stationing themselves on an auto haunted thoroughfare, the "bookmaker" and the players lay bets on the highest possible hand to be found in the next devil wagon which may come honking along. The auto comes and passes in a cloud of dust. The number, say, is 11,651. One equals an ace, so the hand showed is three aces. Those who guessed nearest to the value of that hand win. If the auto number is 27,244, the hand is two pair, four high. In the same way the number may reveal three or four deuces, trays, or fours.

The bookmaker takes all bets on any old number, but pays off only to the holder of the highest hand.

But the game is destined to put the bookmakers out of business, for the chauffeurs and their friends are "next," and the game is being already plugged by them. Knowing the number of their own automobile, they send their friends along the line to get down a bet, and then comes the automobile, the number prominently displayed, the wiley chauffeur sitting with apparent unconcern at the tiller.

Asleep on Card Table, Man Has Coughing Fit, Dies

Iowa, 1901

DIES ON A CARD TABLE

WILLIAM HANNAH'S DEMISE IN DELMONICO CLUB ROOMS

So Sudden Was His Passing That Those In the Room With Him Knew Nothing of It Until the Man Was In His Death Struggles — Leaves the Text of a Sermon Written In His Note Book

Several men were gathered in the club room over the Delmonico early yesterday morning. One was lying asleep on the table. Several others had just been out for a lunch, and on returning to the room one of them had brought in with him a very large Newfoundland dog, the big shaggy animal making himself at home near the stove. Suddenly a loud coughing or choking was heard, and Osborn Reynolds cried "Put that dog out. This room is too warm for him."

"It's not the dog; it's 'Ditch,' answered one of the men.

"Wake him up, boys," and two or three of them hurried over to the table to do so.

"My God! He's dead," they cried and the limp form was allowed to fall back. The face was of chalky whiteness, and it was not necessary to call a physician to learn that life had fled, though, of course, a physician was speedily, but uselessly called.

Thus, lying on a card table in a saloon club room, William Hannah died. Not the slightest warning had he; probably not a moment of conscious suffering. His heart had filled up with blood and then refused to work. It was all so sudden that the men about the corpse could hardly realize what had happened.

There was considerable difficulty yesterday in identifying the dead man. He was known to several people but only as "Ditch," this peculiar nickname coming from the fact that he worked at laying tile when he worked at all. The remains were taken to the Boies' undertaking parlors and during the forenoon Coroner Fred Lambach conducted an autopsy. In the afternoon the coroner's inquest was held and a verdict was rendered that William Hannah came to his death by cardiac paralysis. The coroner's jury consisted of M. J. Scandrett, William Schwarnweber, and O. K. Wilson.

A Dead Man's Sermon

"There's no fool like an old fool," wrote Hannah in his note book not long ago, and the quotation is the text of a sermon that the dead man is preaching to his fellow creatures. The rest of his sermon is found in the story of his life. It developed at the inquest that not many months ago William Hannah had come into the possession of some money, inherited from an eastern relative. He came to Davenport and spent most of his time about a card table. At first he was successful. He did not play heavily, but he won, and he grew to love the game. Men who knew him say it was a study to watch the face of "Ditch" when he was handling the pasteboards. It often made them forget their own game. But there came a time when "Ditch" didn't win. Every bit of his money was gone. He had been known to the police for the past two weeks as "broke," and when Dr. Lambach examined his stomach at the autopsy yesterday morning it was learned that no food had been eaten in the last 24 hours. It was probably during this period that the text was written in the note book.

System Much Deranged

Though to outward appearance Hannah was a healthy man, the autopsy showed that his system was very much disordered. His stomach was what is known as a "whisky stomach," though there was no testimony to show that he was a hard drinker. His kidneys were in bad shape. His right lung had grown to his side as the result of an attack of pluerisy. His liver gave evidence of a disease from which few men recover, and all tended to weaken his heart.

At the inquest testimony was taken from Captain Fred Hitchcock, Michael Rourke, P. Phelan. Ed Neils, W. H. Costello, John Cahil, Dr. Porter, who was called at the time of Hannah's death, and Os Reynolds, the proprietor of the place where the man died. From the testimony it was learned that Hannah had been in Gallagher's place in the early evening, that he had gone to the Delmonico about 12 o'clock, and had fallen asleep upon the card table, a habit that he had been more or less regular in of late. No one took any particular notice of him until the fatal coughing fit attracted them.

Hannah had previously lived at Williamsburg, Ia., where it is understood he has a sister. He carried photographs of two men, one young and the other old. He had told some of his acquaintances that they were his brother and father, and lived in California. The dead man was about 35 years of age.

—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, Feb. 17, 1901, p. 7.

Croaking Ape-Man is Captured; Man of Mystery

Pittsburgh, 1920

Ape is Captured; Man of Mystery

Has Terrorized Greensburg and Homestead for Weeks. Will Not Talk.

Pittsburgh, Aug. 26. — The supposed ape that has terrorized Greensburg and Homestead for two weeks is believed to have been captured Wednesday in a heavy wooded thicket in Baldwin township. It is a man and, nearly nude, with matted hair on his face and head six inches long, so closely resembled an ape that the officers who came upon him unawares were in doubt for several minutes in what category to class him. When captured the man was sleeping beside a fire. On being awakened he sprang at Constable Risenbarth and attempted to sink his teeth in the officer's throat. It took several minutes to subdue him. Apparently unable or unwilling to speak, the man sits moaning in a cell in the Hays police station, occasionally giving utterance to deep guttural sounds resembling the croaking of a huge frog.

The ape-man first appeared in a section of West Virginia bordering on the Monongahela River. For several days depredations committed there were laid to his door. His next appearance was in Westmoreland county, in the vicinity of Greensburg, where he came unawares onto a quiet poker game in a small shanty and, after scaring the players away, quietly disappeared with the "kitty." After terrorizing several families in Westmoreland, the ape-man appeared in the vicinity of Homestead, where the killing of sheep and dogs and the milking of cows aroused the entire countryside. Several posses thought they had him cornered in an abandoned mine, but Tuesday the ape-man appeared near Carrick, and attacked Mrs. Netti Schaffer, who as picking elderberries near her home. Her cries for help brought aid and the ape-man fled.

—The Gettysburg Times, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, August 26, 1920, page 2.

Poker: Four Deaths Because of Five Aces

1911

FOUR DEATH DUE TO POKER

"Bad" Ace in Pack Starts Bullets Flying at Kayler, Pa.

Kittanning, Pa., May 23. — A poker deck which, it is said, held five aces is responsible for shooting which took the lives of three miners at Kayler near here. Charles Sendric, Andy Braltis and Rocco Braltis were killed instantly and Walter Spilesh was fatally injured.

The "bad" ace was seen in the hand of Dick Sendric and he was given a severe beating by the other players and thrown out of the house. Sendric later returned with an automatic gun and, it is alleged, fired its contents into the home.

Uniontown, Pa., May 23. — Frank Pecan, aged twenty-nine, was shot through the breast and killed instantly as a result of a shooting affray in connection with a poker game at the Sunshine Coke works, twelve miles south of this place. Frank Renite, aged twenty-five, was shot and seriously injured. The police are searching for three brothers named Logwabaca, one of whom, it is alleged, did the shooting.

—Indiana Evening Gazette, Indiana, Pennsylvania, May 23, 1911, page 3.