and it was decided to inaugurate a small jack-pot for the benefit of the mother. All went well until about the fourth hand, when Bok began to bid higher than had been originally planned. Kipling questioned the beginners knowledge of the game and his tactics, but Bok retorted it was his money that he was putting into the pot and that no one was compelled to follow his bets if he did not choose to do so. Finally, the jack-pot assumed altogether too large dimensions for the party, Kipling called and Bok, true to the old idea of beginners luck in cards, laid down a royal flush! This was too much, and poker, with Bok in it, was taboo from that moment. Kiplings version of this card-playing does not agree in all particulars with the version here written. Bok learned the game of poker, Kipling says; had the deck stacked on him, and on hearing that there was a woman aboard who read The Ladies Home Journal insisted on playing after that with the cabin-door carefully shut. But Kiplings art as a reporter for The Tonic was not as reliable as the art of his more careful book work.
Bok derived special pleasure on this trip from his acquaintance with Father Kipling, as the party called him. Rudyard Kiplings respect for his father was the tribute of a loyal son to a wonderful father.
What annoys me, said Kipling, speaking of his father one day, is when the pater comes to America to have him referred to in the newspapers as the father of Rudyard Kipling. It is in India where they get the relation correct: there I am always the son of Lockwood Kipling.