Our family was not one for the world of mystic card games.\u00a0 I doubt if they had ever heard of the tarot.\u00a0 If any precognition was expressed, it was in terms of tea leaves clinging to a cup, or of the fortuitous designs of chop bones left on the plate.\u00a0 We were well up on bridge; auction, not contract \u2013 and poker.\u00a0 Not that there was much money in it.\u00a0 Even on the wildest night of gambling, hardly more than a half crown would change hands.<\/p>\n
Emmy and Otto, who made a reasonable living out of playing at the Sydney Bridge Club, used to observe and abide by the modesty of stake money.<\/p>\n
Occasionally when Norman B and mother were fed-up with two handed gambling I was allowed to sit in.<\/p>\n
I remember the sitting-in in a traumatic kind of way. Sitting under the silk beaded and dusty lamp shade losing all my message money.\u00a0 I was suddenly dealt a sting.\u00a0 It couldn\u2019t have been purposeful on my part because when I shuffled or sprayed the cards they all fell on the floor.<\/p>\n
Perhaps Norman jiggled it for me \u2013 maybe he wanted a quick end to my company, or had suddenly come into riches.<\/p>\n
We were not on brain bridge \u2013 just simple poker \u2013 and he dealt me a ROYAL ROUTINE FLUSH.<\/p>\n
It was his mistake of course.<\/p>\n
Something which he should have dealt himself.\u00a0 Anyway I collected them for a whole ten pence and was sent to bed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Our family was not one for the world of mystic card games.\u00a0 I doubt if they had ever heard of the tarot.\u00a0 If any precognition was expressed, it was in terms of tea leaves clinging to a cup, or of the fortuitous designs of chop bones left on the plate.\u00a0 We were well up on … <\/p>\n