sort I remember: cards, not. As to calculation and inferences, I give
it up. I just first play out all my kings, then all my aces, I lead
trumps, if I have a bunch of them, and then it is my partner's turn
to make his little points. I return his lead when I happen to think
of it, which is not often. That is all _I_ have to confess, but I
have a friend, a brilliant player _I_ call him, and he permits me to
contribute his experiences, as mine are short and simple. To my mind,
Whist would not be a bad game, if the element of skill were excluded;
but give me Roulette. If foreign ladies would not snatch up my
winnings, I should be a master at Roulette, where genius is really
served, for I play on inspiration merely. But let me turn to the
confessions of my friend, my Mentor, I may call him, a man who is a
Member of the Burlington itself, one who has had losses, go to! Hear
him speak:--

"I have always sympathised," he says, "with _Mr. Pickwick_, in regard
to his experiences at Whist; that is to say, his experience on the
second occasion narrated in his history. The first time, it will be
remembered, all went well, when, owing to unfortunate lapses on the
part of 'the criminal Miller,' who omitted to 'trump the diamond'
and subsequently revoked, he and the fat gentleman were worsted in an
encounter with _Mr. Wardle's_ mother and the immortal hero.

"But at Bath there was a different tale to tell, the _Dowager Lady
Snuphanuph_ and _Mrs. Colonel Wugsby_, proved too able for him and
_Miss Bolo_, who when he played a wrong card, which, like me, he
probably did every other time, looked a small armoury of daggers,
and subsequently in a beautiful instance of the figure known to the
grammarian as Hendiadys, went home in tears and a Sedan chair."