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150
Literary Lapses
·
Stephen Leacock
121
"Put
it
back
in
the
pack.
Thanks.
(Shuffle,
shuffle,
shuffle--flip)--There,
is
that
it?"
(triumphantly).
"I
don't
know.
I
lost
sight
of
it."
"Lost
sight
of
it!
Confound
it,
you
have
to
look
at
it
and
see
what
it
is."
"Oh,
you
want
me
to
look
at
the
front
of
it!"
"Why,
of
course!
Now
then,
pick
a
card."
"All
right.
I've
picked
it.
Go
ahead."
(Shuffle,
shuffle,
shuffle--flip.)
"Say,
confound
you,
did
you
put
that
card
back
in
the
pack?"
"Why,
no.
I
kept
it."
"Holy
Moses!
Listen.
Pick--a--card--just
one--look
at
it--see
what
it
is--then
put
it
back--do
you
understand?"
"Oh,
perfectly.
Only
I
don't
see
how
you
are
ever
going
to
do
it.
You
must
be
awfully
clever."
(Shuffle,
shuffle,
shuffle--flip.)
"There
you
are;
that's
your
card,
now,
isn't
it?"
(This
is
the
supreme
moment.)
"NO.
THAT
IS
NOT
MY
CARD."
(This
is
a
flat
lie,
but
Heaven
will
pardon
you
for
it.)
"Not
that
card!!!!
Say--just
hold
on
a
second.
Here,
now,
watch
what
you're
at
this
time.
I
can
do
this
cursed
thing,
mind
you,
every
time.
I've
done
it
on
father,
on
mother,
and
on
every
one
that's
ever
come
round
our
place.
Pick
a
card.
(Shuffle,
shuffle,
shuffle--flip,
bang.)
There,
that's
your
card."
"NO.
I
AM
SORRY.
THAT
IS
NOT
MY
CARD.
But
won't
you
try
it
again?
Please
do.
Perhaps
you
are
a
little
excited--I'm
afraid
I
was
rather
stupid.
Won't
you
go
and
sit
quietly
by
yourself
on
the
back
verandah
for
half
an
hour
and
then
try?
You
have
to
go
home?
Oh,
I'm
so
sorry.
It
must
be
such
an
awfully
clever
little
trick.
Good
night!"
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