An' in his clumsy blunderin' the b'ar is goin' to select his execootioner himse'f.
That's a fact; the party who downs the b'ar, final, ain't goin' to pick the b'ar out; the b'ar's goin' to pick him out.

An' it's the same about wealth; one gent gets the b'ar an' the other nineteen--an' they're as cunnin' an' industr'ous as the lucky party--don't get nothing--don't even get a shot.

I repeats tharfore, that you-all settin' yere this evenin', firin' off aimless observations, don't know whether you'll quit rich or not." At the close of his dissertation, my talkative companion puffed a cloud which seemed to hang above his venerable head in a fashion of heavy blue approval.

I paused as one impressed by the utter wisdom of the old gentleman.

Then I took another tack.
"Speaking of wealth," I said, "tell me concerning the largest money you ever knew to be won or lost at faro--tell me a gambling story." "Tell you-all a gamblin' tale," he repeated, and then mused as if lost in retrospection.