When we got into the street our party was divided against itself; two were for going home at once and getting to bed.  They gave as a reason that we were to get up early and look for jobs.  I think the real reason was that they had each lost several dollars in the game.  I lived to learn that in the world of sport all men win alike, but lose differently; and so gamblers are rated, not by the way in which they win, but by the way in which they lose.  Some men lose with a careless smile, recognizing that losing is a part of the game; others curse their luck and rail at fortune; and others, still, lose sadly; after each such experience they are swept by a wave of reform; they resolve to stop gambling and be good.  When in this frame of mind it would take very little persuasion to lead them into a prayer-meeting.  Those in the first class are looked upon with admiration; those in the second class are merely commonplace; while those in the third are regarded with contempt.  I believe these distinctions hold good in all the ventures of life.  After some minutes one of my friends and I succeeded in convincing the other two that a while at the “Club” would put us all in better spirits; and they consented to go, on our promise not to stay longer than an hour.  We found the place crowded, and the same sort of thing going on which we had seen the night before.  I took a seat at once by the side of the piano player, and was soon lost to everything except the novel charm of the music.  I watched the performer with the idea of catching the trick, and during one of his intermissions I took his place at the piano and made an attempt to imitate him, but even my quick ear and ready fingers were unequal to the task on first trial.

We did not stay at the “Club” very long, but went home to bed in order to be up early the next day.  We had no difficulty in finding work, and my third morning in New York found me at a table rolling cigars.  I worked steadily for some weeks, at the same time spending my earnings between the “crap” game and the “Club.”  Making cigars became more and more irksome to me; perhaps my more congenial work as a “reader” had unfitted me for work at the table.  And, too, the late hours I was keeping made such a sedentary occupation almost beyond the powers of will and endurance.  I often found it hard to keep my eyes open and sometimes had to get up and move around to keep from falling asleep.  I began to miss whole days from the factory, days on which I was compelled to stay at home and sleep.

My luck at the gambling table was varied; sometimes I was fifty to a hundred dollars ahead, and at other times I had to borrow money from my fellow workmen to settle my room rent and pay for my meals.  Each night after leaving the dice game I went to the “Club” to hear the music and watch the gaiety.  If I had won, this was in accord with my mood; if I had lost, it made me forget.  I at last realized that making cigars for a living and gambling for a living