"Waiter! bring a pack of cards." "What's that ye're wantin' ?" asked Mr.Bishopriggs, doubting the evidence of his own senses.
"A pack of cards," repeated Arnold.
"Cairds ?" echoed Mr.Bishopriggs.

"A pack o' cairds?
The deevil's allegories in the deevil's own colors--red and black! I wunna execute yer order.

For yer ain saul's sake, I wunna do it.

Ha' ye lived to your time o' life, and are ye no' awakened yet to the awfu' seenfulness o' gamblin' wi' the cairds ?" "Just as you please," returned Arnold.

"You will find me awakened--when I go away--to the awful folly of feeing a waiter." "Does that mean that ye're bent on the cairds ?" asked Mr.Bishopriggs, suddenly betraying signs of worldly anxiety in his look and manner.
"Yes--that means I am bent on the cards." "I tak' up my testimony against 'em--but I'm no' telling ye that I canna lay my hand on 'em if I like.