COLORED SECTION. SUNDAY, JANUARY 6, 1901.

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-Detroit Pre* Frees.

The poker joint was crowded at the Gulch in Skaguay When Timid Terry Madigan permission asked to play. There was miners from the Sadie Shaft and from the No. 4; Borne gamblers who had got the goods and staj-ed to get some more; Big booted chaps from off the range, and Indians a few; Prospectors to the promised land, and cowboys one or two. A wolfish looking outfit, sure, if you will take my word, With Big-Nose Jones, from Tennessee, the baddest of the herd. Now, Terry had no business there, as all the dead-games knew, for when he had his backbone* built they clean forgot the glue; As some folks say, he had no nerve, while others call it g r i t -It doesn'i matter much, except to say he wasn't "it." His eyes was weak, his chin was worse, he couldn't hold his own; He was, la short, the softest mark the camp had ever known. As Danny Deeves, from 'Frisco way, had frequently allowed, "There ain't no use inr stayin' broke when Terry's in the crowd." He couldn't play, he couldn't fight, he'd ne'er been known to bluff; He always timidly withdrew at threats of houses rough. He'd dig for, say, a week or two, clean Up a little tin, Then tote it With him to the Gulch and promptly blow it in. So when he struck the joint this night Big-Nose he stopped the deal,

' And Tatem Short made way for him a place beside the wheel; The Eagle Bird he winked in alee, but Terry passed him by; The hazard banker motioned^him, but Terry wouldn't try. He wouldn't play the keno/game or shake the dice at craps; He made his way across tHe room and joined the poker chaps. "I'll ait in for a spell," he said, and up a shout there went, And Big-Nose figured how ne had .the Terry money spent They was playing naught but jackpots and the limit was the roof; The geezer with the widest/nerve he gathered in the eof. When Terry sat him down/to play he bought a brace of stacks, And opened up his first five cards to scan a pair of jacks. "I'll break her for a ceritury," said Whitey Keneflck— As black a hearted scoundrel as had ever turned a trick. And some there stayed abd some there passed, with here a raise or tw< But Terry, when it eante his turn, allowed he'd lift a few. "I got a sort of winny reel," he then went on to say. And figured it would eost^each gent an extra stack to stay. Big-Nose he laughed behinflvhls beard, because he had the deal, And there wa'nt a chance for others when he started in to steal. At all events, the cards was run, and Terry stands 'em pat, With Big-Nose and the rest df them a-wonderin' where they're a t So Jones he throws his triplets down, and others does the same, For Terry's never known to Muff—you see, that ain't his game. There wasn't much disturbance for a full five minutes, when There domes along a monstrous pot and Terry raised again. And this time Jimmy James be swears he'll take the pot or tast But Terry raised some more and said, "You've got to win H fustf And Jimmy tried to win It and exerted every wile. But Terry stares him hard and says. "I'll tap you for your pile. And Jimmy drops, and cusses like a tout from Tanforan, The others gazing open mouthed at Terry Madigan. And so it goes, and Terry sew* the game op good and'tigit; And Big-Nose, being loser bad, fs spoiling for a fight. So just about the time that Timid Terry breaks the bank. Says Big-Nose, "You're a thlevin* dog, you blanky, blanky blank." But Terry draws a 44 and says, "I holds the ace;^ Apologize or you'll acquire a porous plaster face*'* And Big-Nose, wondering all the while, takes back the words he said, For men will do most anything toekeep from getting dead. But Aleck Overholt he says, respectful like and bland, "What's happened to you, man, that you play such a nervy handf And Terry smiled as back his thoughts reverted to a sup ,§& Of Dr. Dosem's Celebrated Tonic Nerve-Em-Up. And from that night, throughout bis life, he was a changed man; No longer Timid Terry, but the Nervy Madigan.

t'ENYOl. Now, gentlemen of manner mild, be guided by this case, For Nerve-Em-Up makes lions of the meekest of the raee. One hundred doses for a plunk will make of any one The stoutest hearted citizen that ever cocked a gun.

W. W. ATJLICK.

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Thomas M. Tryniski 309 South 4th Street Fulton New York 13069

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