LITTLE SLAM

The poker face club is at it again with a vehemence which threatens to break up the party, but it probably won't, worst luck. No one knows who dealt the first hand. It may have been a partner of Mr. Hultman, well known in these parts as a stuffed club, who acted as host of the occasion when he presented an invitation ticket to Mayor Curley.

The burgomaster, loathe to be counted out of a deal, doubled Mr. Schwarz, whose aversion to the rules of Work has been fostered by the police commissioner. The mayor then proceeded to trump his own ace by refusing to play with those notorious experts from La Grange Street, forgetting that their highest stake has never been but a few coppers.

Still intent on a grand slam, the curley-haired man of Pemberton Square struck from the tally the score of Lieutenant Governor Youngman. The Lieutenant-Governor withdrew from the game gracefully, merely acknowledging that he is not in the mayor's class. The mayor will therefore be able to drink his Japanese tea without a Kibitzer.

Who has the cards? And whose play is it? Mr. Conry who usually bluffs his opponents with more garrulity, has been silent. But now that his double Canfield with Mr. Hultman has become so boring to both of them, there is no doubt but that he will produce a tray of clubs, nicely grafted to those who deal in the traffic. The deuce of it is that there seem to be too many knaves in the pack, and no one seems to be ready to call a spade a spade.