to think it's because I don't feel friendly, but what I feel is: The first time you meet a guy, you ought to show you know your social onions by giving him his proper handle—shows you aren't one of these roughnecks—and then after that you can call him Pete or Pootch or Fat-ear or whatever his regular name is.
But's I was saying:
You remember that Simms was dealing. And do you know what I got? Well, I'll tell you: When I looked at my hand, I had the deuce of diamonds, the seven of spades, the king of clubs, the nine of hearts, and the six of—
Now by golly I can't remember—and I'm ashamed of myself—but I can't remember whether the fifth card was the trey of hearts or the trey of diamonds. But anyway, be that as it may, the point that I wanted to make clear is: I didn't have so much as one single solitary little pair in my whole hand.
So, thinks I, "Well, Low, you certainly got one swell-elegant grove of lemons here."
