With the dance hall burned to the ground by causes unknown the membership of the Friendly Circle Club of the First Church of the United Brotherhood could get back to focusing on their previous number one priority–that den of iniquity–the card parlor.  The meeting follwoing Alva Johannsen’s funeral was held at Lulu Thorenson’s house where fresh biscuits were served with her blue ribbon peach preserves and coffee.

Helen Bishop wiped a crumb off her double chin and suggested, “If God saw fit to torch that blasted dance hall you’d think He could do something about that card joint.”

“Card playin’ is the devil’s hand tool, that’s th’ truth with my hand up,” chimed in Joyce Millet, wife of the town board’s president.  “Takes menfolk away from hearth and family, that’s what it does for sure and certain.”  She glanced around the room seeking confirmation and saw a bevy of nodding heads.  “Why, Harold plays cards four and five nights a week…even conducts town business right there at the card table.  I don’t even think that’s legal.  Maybe we could close it down on that account ‘though I don’t want to get my man in trouble…nor your’n neither, Marcie.  He sits on the board, too.”

Now, Chippy, the parlor’s proprietor, started letting me play cards for money when I turned 14 and it didn’t take me long to figure out that more of the town’s women attended church than men.  In fact, some of the men dropped their wives off at church on Sunday morning and then played cards until it was time to pick them up when the preaching was over.  Most all of the men sided with their wives on the question of dancing but card playing was a different breed of cat.

The wives had tried a couple of tactics over the years to discourage what they considered their husbands’ wayward practice through their weekly club meetings.  One was to withhold certain bedtime wifely duties if you get my drift.  These were hard working men–dead tired at bedtime.  Then they tried avoiding preparing favorite foods.  Husbands simply picked at their suppers, left early, ate at the diner and then played cards.

It apparently had something to do with the Bible, this dislike for the card parlor–the gambling part of it, perhaps since Roman soldiers cast lots over Jesus’ garb when He was crucified.  Gambling didn’t amount to much…just a nickel per player per game.  Assuming four players to the table the winner received 20 cents worth of chips good for merchandise at the parlor and the loser forked over two dimes to Chippy.   The exception was the pinochle table which was a 15-cent game since only three men in town knew how to play pinochle.