} P| VAAL OH, RII ge Semone encore: Semmes NAAnA > D =) 2 S389 3 THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Two Copies Received | AUG 6 1903 Copyright Entry .b-/G403 CLAS O— XXe. No, etre a COPY B. Copyright, 1903 By H. M. CaLpDWkELL COMPANY 03-19050 Colonial Press Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, Mass. U.S. A. e IN MEMORY OF SManp Smokes On sea and land — From corn silk to divine perfectos In the wood-shed and on promenade decks To many pipes over the mountains and around the camp-ire | THESE LEAVES ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED INTRODUCTION Toxzacco and its uses have contributed to so many phases of human nature and the social life of centuries, that it is not strange indeed that it should inspire in each new generation of smokers and writers, much new thought in the form of prose and poetry and philosophy. : No other plant has blossomed forth to such good offices. No other plant has stimulated the activities of the world in so many channels. True, it has been and is being prostituted by commercial pirates and tricksters who would debase anything for the dull yellow god of gold. In spite of this, however, tobacco has had for its 9 INTRODUCTION associates so many of the master-minds of the world who have spoken and written in its praises, that it is evident to any one that this “* great plant,” rightly used, is a power for physical, mental, and even moral well-being. So much of the literature of tobacco has been collected in book form, that the editor of this anthology would feel some misgivings in attempting to bring forth another volume on the subject were it not for the fact that the influence of tobacco and the growth of its cultivation have de- veloped new features and vital relations with our modern civilization. That this deserves consideration (not alone from the lover of tobacco and literature, but also from him who loves to watch the sidelight of the world’s progress) I feel confident. While some of the interesting items dis- cussed in this little book have been touched upon and even considered seriously in the 10 INTRODUCTION past, they have been scattered through so many publications, that it makes their accessibility in this volume welcome. In addition to this, many aspects and con- ditions — curiously related to the above — have since arisen as to render their embodi- ment by contemporaries in this book, if not original, at least fresh in treatment and in accord with the times. The other chapters, treating as they do of tobacco topics, of which little has been publicly known, but which have, nevertheless, a bearing upon the whole, it is felt will be found readable and in- forming. The Poetry of Smoke, contained in this volume, has been selected with great care, and, so far as can be found, has not to any degree ever appeared between perma- nent covers before, and very little of it is now “in print ” in any current work. That it deserves as high a place as the 11 INTRODUCTION poetry in the companion volume to this, **'Tobacco in Song and Story,” is assured to its readers by the sentiment it possesses, and the fact that most of it is the product of the pens of graceful and recognized writers who would not sign anything un- less it was up to their standard. 12 TOBACCO LEAVES U UY THE TOBACCO GARDEN OF THE | WORLD One hundred miles as the crow. flies southwest from Havana, one hundred and thirty miles by the railroad, is Pinar del. Rio (Pine of the River) in the province of Pinar del Rio, a city located in the to- bacco garden of the world. It is the heart of the famous Vuelta Abajo (lower turn) district of Cuba. Little perhaps does the critical smoker realize, apart from the personal discom- fort and deprivation it would cause him, 13 TOBACCO LEAVES what a loss to the world of commerce it would be if the Vuelta Abajo district were suddenly wiped off the map. To the matchless soil of this province are due its industrial wealth, its commer- cial value, and its world-wide fame. Other lands are as fertile, other climes as salu- tary, other landscapes as beautiful, but nowhere on the round earth is there a soil like unto that of the Vuelta Abajo. To that fair district the Cuban turns with deep affection, and every lover of good tobacco with reverence and gratitude. Pinar del Rio, the extreme western prov- ince of Cuba, has been aptly compared to a high-heeled boot, which separates the Gulf of Mexico on the north from the Caribbean on the south. The winds which sweep across its hills and valleys have been tempered by the surrounding seas, and give the land a climate so mild and benefi- 14 TOBACCO LEAVES cent that earth and air seem to smile in perpetual delight. Although the dusky Carib grew the gentle herb in every province, and doubt- less knew that Pinar del Rio produced the best, his Castilian conqueror was not as wise. | So far as the records run, the Spanish Conquistadores were satisfied at first with tribute from the captive race in the shape of dried tobacco leaves. Not until 1580, when the Caribs had become half extinct, did they attempt the culture of the plant themselves. Two hundred years rolled by in which Havana, Matanzas, Santa Clara, and Santiago supplied tobacco to the Spanish world. Not until 1790 does the noble name of Vuelta Abajo appear upon the records. Since then it has held un- challenged the first place among the to- bacco-growing districts of the globe. The province of Pinar del Rio is, roughly : 15 TOBACCO LEAVES speaking, 170 miles long and 50 miles wide. ‘The tobacco districts comprising the middle and middle-western sections of the province are about 80 miles long and 30 wide. The heart of the Vuelta lies be- tween the small mountain range which fringes the northern shore of the province and the southern coast. The centre of the heart is the city of Pinar del Rio. The finest leaf is grown in the sections skirted by the Guaniguanico Mountains. There frequent rains down its slopes water the way to numberless streams, feeding and nourishing the earth. Here we find a soil of peculiar richness, containing a com- bination of mineral properties, which, with the stimulation of strong suns, are the chief contributors to the flavour of this tobacco. The tobacco farms are generally lo- cated in the lowlands on both sides of the many rivers of the district, or in the val- 16 TOBACCO LEAVES leys, or are found between the low and rolling hills. The planting takes place usually in November and December. Very rarely it happens as late as January. In all cases, the land is in a high state of cultivation. The growing plant is given the most constant and careful attention. All weeds are removed, and every plant is examined daily for the purpose of removing all in- sects, which, if left undisturbed, would destroy every leaf on the farm. If the weather has been favourable, in December beautiful five-pointed pink flowers sur- mounting vivid green leaves begin to add colour to the land. But not for long, for these flowers are picked off soon after making their appearance. All the strength of the plant is thus thrown into the se- - lected leaves, the female plant being the larger and better adapted for fine wrap- pers. By TOBACCO LEAVES. The leaf is bright green until the cut- ting season, which usually occurs in De- cember. ‘The cutting is done at different periods, according as the leaves ripen. In gathering the crop, the stalk is cut into short lengths with two leaves on each. The leaves now are slightly withered, but not dry or brittle enough to break. They are hung on poles, each of which holds ~ about 420 leaves of wrappers, and they are carried to the curing-house, where they remain about five weeks. They are then ready to be assorted and baled, — a work requiring not only long experience, but also great skill. During the curing opera- tion, the leaves are often so dry that the lightest touch would convert them into powder. When in this condition the tobacco is never handled. But after a heavy rain, or a period of high hygrom- eter, the leaves absorb moisture from the 18 TOBACCO LEAVES atmosphere, and regain their softness and elasticity. In assorting the tobacco, the leaves are divided into piles graded according to their commercial value. ‘These piles are made up of first and second grade wrap- pers and fillers. ‘The tobacco is then tied up into “hands.”? Four of these hands bunched together constitute a “ carot,” which is shaped like a fat bottle. It is held together by narrow strips of cactus _ fibre, vulgarly known as “ majagua.” had “ caught” me in the act about five hundred times, by appearing at absolutely uncalled-for hours, in the office, for about nine years. ) I answered in the affirmative, and he said: ‘Well, here’s a present for you,” and he handed me the box, then went up to the Western Union Building to attend a meet- ing of the directors, and I lit up. There was a broker that had cheated me out of a commission, in an office across Broadway, and to him I hurried with that box of cigars, after I had smoked one of them for a minute and a half. I presented the box to him. 40 TOBACCO LEAVES From that day, I have never seen that broker. One morning, early in 1893, I was walk- ‘ing up Tremont Street, in Boston, when, just opposite to the Boston Museum, I saw a gentleman approaching. We had the sidewalk to ourselves, as it was so early. He carried a grip. He was so tall, and such a grand-looking man, with such a divine face and great, dark, sympathetic eyes, with the fire of genius in them, that I looked, and looked, and looked, feeling sure that he must be Somebody. After I had passed, I turned to look again, and I found him looking my way. I started to go to him, and speak, but I lost my nerve, and he turned into Beacon Street, and was lost to view. Some months after, I stood in line at Trinity Church, in Boston, for an hour, in order to drop a flower on the coffin of Phillips Brooks, whom I had never heard preach, but whose sermons and good Al TOBACCO LEAVES deeds had gone to my heart. He lay on his side, as if asleep, and he and the stranger of the early morning in Tremont Street were one. Bishop Brooks, I understand, — used to smoke eighteen and twenty cigars a day. He had the Milmore-Booth nico- tine complexion and eyes. He overdid, too, poor man, and robbed the world of one of its most lovely souls by so doing. Colonel Ingersoll was a smoker who knew when to stop. He smoked just so many cigars a day, and beautiful brown ones they were, and they never hurt him. General Grant was a chain smoker; that is, one cigar lit another the day long when he was preserving the Union, and for years after. Mr. N. C. Goodwin, our best comedian, smokes only cigarettes, with “ N. C. G.” printed on each cigarette. In the many years that I have known him, I have not seen him smoke a pipe or cigar. His 42 ‘TOBACCO LEAVES cigarettes are made for him, and cost him about ten cents apiece. He smokes pretty constantly in his dressing-room, holding the cigarette in a_ beautiful all-amber holder, with a good rim at its mouth. The holder must be half a foot long. It is a pleasure to watch Mr. Goodwin smoke, as it is to see him act, for his methods are dainty and thorough, in smoking as well as acting. The fiercest smoker whom I have ever known was the late Francis Saltus, the marvellous linguist, musician, composer, writer, and traveller. He would smoke (surely) fifty cigarettes a day. You talk about fellows smoking in bed and between courses at a dinner? Well, Frank Saltus would smoke between mouthfuls. I have seen him smoke fifty cigarettes in a day, while turning off two or three hundred dialogues (‘‘ squibs,” he called them) for 43 TOBACCO LEAVES the papers and magazines. He was a wonder, look at him how you will, and some day the world will know it. 1 A A Cotontat volunteer officer, Captain Brown —in times of peace, Butcher Brown — ordered a sentry found smoking to consider himself a prisoner. ‘* What!” exclaimed the volunteer soldier, ‘* not smoke on sentry? ‘Then where on earth am I to smoke?” ‘The dignified captain reiterated his first remark. Then did the sentry take his pipe from his mouth-and confidentially tap his officer on the shoul- der. ‘* Now, look here, Brown,” said he, ‘don’t go and make a fool of your- self. If you do, Pll go elsewhere for my meat!’? Dignity went to a thousand to three, and no takers. 44, POETRY OF SMOKE To My Pirz Come down, old friend, from off the mantel-tree, Where loving fingers placed thee yester- eve; Come down, and hold communion now with me, Thou art a friend who never did deceive. A friend who never fails in time of need, A friend who ever lends his potent might, When Care upon the weary mind would feed, Or Melancholy’s gloomy spell would blight. | A5 TOBACCO LEAVES Thy brown and polished bowl I’ll fill with care, And then, with lips pressed close unto _ thine own — No lover drinks a sweeter draught, I swear I’m happier than a king upon his throne! For in the wreaths of smoke which from thee rise No perfume sweeter from the rarest rose ; No greater joy this side of Paradise! Thou sweet and mighty antidote of woes! Ah, often have I come with care-worn mind, And placed thee to my lips in fretful mood ; In thy companionship relief I’d find, Thy touch would calm the fever in my blood. 46 TOBACCO LEAVES The wrinkled brow would smooth itself in peace, The troubled breast forget its care and pain. Yea, thou wilt give from Sorrow sweet surcease, | Bring cherished dreams of happiness again. And ever in my home thou’lt be abiding, A cherished friend whose counsels never fail; While I to thee my inmost thoughts con- fiding, Upon the seas of fancy oft will sail. And not until the last sweet puff has van- ished, And naught but ashes lies within thy bowl; Then, not till then, are all my visions ban- ished, A] TOBACCO LEAVES Yet still sweet peace doth linger with my soul! Epwin Carte Litsry, m Gentleman’s Magazine. My Arter - Dinner Croup Some sombre evening, when I sit And feel in solitude at home, Perchance an ultra bilious fit | Paints all the world an orange chrome. When Fear and Care and grim Despair Flock round me in a ghostly crowd, One charm dispels them all in air — I blow my after-dinner cloud. Tis melancholy to devour The gentle chop in loneliness. I look on six —my prandial hour — With dread not easy to express. 48 TOBACCO LEAVES And yet, for every penance done, Due compensation seems allowed. My penance o’er, its price is won; I blow my after-dinner cloud. My clay is not a Henry Clay — I like it better, on the whole; And when I fill it, I can say I drown my sorrows in the bowl. For most I love my lowly pipe When weary, sad, and leaden-browed ; At such a time behold me ripe To blow my after-dinner cloud. As gracefully the smoke ascends In columns from the weed beneath, My friendly wizard, Fancy, lends A vivid shape to every wreath. Strange memories of life or death, Up from the cradle to the shroud, Come forth as, with enchanter’s breath, I blow my after-dinner cloud. 49 TOBACCO LEAVES - What wonder if it stills my care To quit the present for the past; And summon back the things that were, Which only thus in vapour last? What wonder if I envy not | The rich,.the giddy, and the proud, Contented in this quiet spot To blow my after-dinner cloud? — Fun. To THE VIRGINIAN LEAF Tuov grateful leaf, soul-soothing friend, While to my brain thy fumes ascend, Do thou thy inspiration lend, That I may sing What splendid thinkings have been penned, Borne on thy wing. The noble Raleigh, who first bore The kindly opiate to our shore, Through thee loved dearly to explore The realms of thought; 50 “TOBACCO LEAVES And on thy clouds with freedom soar, When chains his lot. Shakespeare thy powers would doubtless know, | And many a cloud would skyward blow, Causing his teeming brain to glow With grand conceit; Whose “ airy nothings ” finely show A form complete. Milton oft felt thy soothing power Redeem the darkness of the hour, Making imagination shower A rain of light; Gifting him with a heavenly dower Of “second sight.” Newton from thee drew thoughtful fire, When listening to the angels’ choir, Chanting the wonders of their Sire, Hidden from man; 51 TOBACCO LEAVES From lower cause divining higher, In God’s great plan. Then who dare ’gainst thy virtues rail? May more and more thy power prevail! Unwise are those who dare assail Thee, friend in need. And doubly blest those who inhale Thee, fragrant weed. The greatest good may turn to ill, When right and wrong lie with the will; Thou use may bless, abuse may kill; Let manhood ripe, With prudent moderation, fill The soothing pipe. Tue Dominie. 52 SMOKERS I HAVE NEVER MET BY JOHN ERNEST MCCANN Ir is not certain that Sir Walter Ral- eigh was the man who introduced tobacco to the English people, for King James says in his works (1616), page 215, that it was not brought in by a worthy, virtu- ous personage, but by two or three In- dians, arriving from America, who died shortly after. Cause and effect. But whoever it was, Sir Walter will always have the credit for it, for it will be as impossible to rob him of it, as it is, and ever will be, to deprive Shakespeare of his ever green laurels to place them on the head of Francis Bacon. 53 TOBACCO LEAVES Raleigh must have been the first man to smoke in London; and Ben Jonson one of the first men, for his plays are full of smoking, entire scenes being devoted to it. Shakespeare never mentions tobacco or smoking. ‘That seems to be one of the mysteries of that most mysterious of all the men that ever lived; for what else escaped his falcon eye and magic pen in the England of his time? How was it possible for him to keep Trinidado, smok- ing and smokers out of his comedies, which were all written while his beard was young? What chances he had of making Sir John Falstaff philosophically hold forth on the virtues of tobacco and pipe! In “* Twelfth Night,” as it is played, Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek smoke long ** churchwardens,”’ and have a very funny scene, in which Sir Andrew tries, while drunk, to light his long pipe held by the drunken: Sir Toby; but it is not in the 54 TOBACCO LEAVES written play, nor were “ churchwardens ” known in Shakespeare’s time. Yet there was smoking, as well as drinking, at The Mermaid, The Devil and Apollo, The Boar’s Head, and all the other London taverns which Shakespeare frequented; for you may be sure that, like Dickens, this great reporter knew every tavern, church, public house, and street in the town, for which he has done more than all its rulers put together; for Shake- speare is the real king of England — the king of all her kings. It is quite easy to see that great group around the table in The Mermaid, smok- ing, drinking, and exchanging verbal coins of the realm: the truculent Jonson, send- ing clouds to the ceiling, or into an adver- sary’ face; the reserved and aristocratic Raleigh, reflectively drawing the smoke that cheers, but not inebriates; the bitter Marston, the biting Cyril Tourneur, the | 55 TOBACCO LEAVES excellent, but too serious, Ford, the learned Chapman, who finished (in more than one way) Kit Marlowe’s lovely poem, ‘ Hero and Leander,” after Kit’s death; Web- ster, Fletcher, Heywood, Middleton, Essex, Drake, Southampton, and the scores of others who dropped in nights to the ban- quets of humour and wars of wit; and Shakespeare, the quiet, unobtrusive mas- ter of them all, a little in the background, taking it all in; for Shakespeare (like Dickens) had no ambition to be a street, club, or tavern wit, or a master of argu- ment, except in his plays. He cared not what opinions a man held, so long as he held fast to the fact, you may be sure. His favourite volume was Man, and every one of its thousand and one leaves he had read until they were in rags. Did Shakespeare smoke? History turns away without replying. But such an inves- tigator must have smoked; at least, tried 56 TOBACCO LEAVES the weed; and, for all we know to the contrary, he may have been an _ honest smoker, — one whose pipe never went out until the bowl was full of ashes. In Shake- speare’s time, men were Spartan smokers, for the tobacco was rank stuff in his day, yet the smoke was inhaled from pipes, and sent in volumes from the nostrils. That way would kill the smokers of the present day. That brings us to this logical con- clusion, that Shakespeare, who must have been the most delicately organized of mor- tals, could not have been a smoker, for the smoke of vile tobacco sent through his lungs and nostrils would have killed him. We must not be too hard on King James the First, for his “* Counterblast ” against tobacco, when we bear in mind its vileness. Napoleon tried to smoke — once. Some- body gave him a box of Turkish cigar- ettes, and it nearly did for him what Europe had been trying to do to him for | 57 TOBACCO LEAVES years — killed him. He is the only illus- trious man whom I have never met who gave up trying to learn to smoke after one trial. Mr. Russell Sage is the only man whom I have met who did the same thing. He told me that he once tackled a cigar, and that the cigar then tackled him. The rest is silence. | Edward VII., England’s king, is an- other gentleman whom I have never met who is a smoker of the first rank. His cigars have been made especially for him for many years, and are worth ninety cents apiece, or nine hundred dollars a thousand. As Prince of Wales, when he offered a cigar to one of his “ set,” 1t was etiquette to refuse it, and social suicide to accept it, though I think Mr. John L. Sullivan took one from his divine hand without losing caste. Another great man whom I have yet to meet is Carlyle, the London Diogenes. 58 TOBACCO LEAVES Carlyle was born in 1795, and died in 1881, at the age of eighty-six. For about seventy of those eighty-six years Carlyle smoked, and made most of his contempora- ries smoke. ‘The trouble with him was that he was too fond of smoking a rank pipe on an empty stomach. That gave him stomach pains, and his contemporaries par- ticular — pains; for puir auld Carlyle was as savage as a meat-house dog all the time. He cared for but two men in the world, — Tennyson and Dickens. All the rest were puir, feckless, reekless, intem- perate bladders and gas-bags, and all be- cause Tom did not know how to clean his pipe, and keep it clean, and would smoke before breakfast. Alfred Tennyson did not know how to smoke, either; for he would smoke a long clay pipe once and then break it. A new pipe is a most unpleasant thing to draw, and sometimes when his pipe was not in 59 TOBACCO LEAVES tune with his muse, Tennyson was brusque. But it is easy to forgive a genius, espe- cially if he is beset with all sorts and con- ditions of men, as Tennyson was. It is said that Tennyson was often offensive to Americans. We cannot blame the English poet for refusing to receive a certain type of American who is persona non grata even in his own country. At any rate, Tennyson was not insensible to American beauty, for he treated Miss Mary Ander- son nicely, and even allowed her to fill his pipe for him. * Bismarck was one of the greatest smok- ers that ever lived, and him I have never met. He would require a chapter, but it is impossible in the space allotted to me to speak of all the smokers whom I have yet to meet; still, Charles Lamb must be mentioned. At the “ smokers ” in his house I have often been, in spirit; particularly on one great night, when, over their pipes, 60 “TOBACCO LEAVES Hazlitt, Coleridge, Lamb, and a few oth- ers discussed Shakespeare’s genius, and a layman gave it out, after lingering for two hours, that, in his opinion, “ That Shakespeare was a very clever man!” Then Charles arose, with a lighted candle, and gravely examined that chap’s bumps. Lamb was a great jo— smoker. But the greatest smoker that I have yet to meet was Nero. He smoked a city. 61 POETRY OF SMOKE AN INTER WHIFF Here on my back on the bank I lie, With a pipe in my mouth, and watch the sky; And well do I know, beyond a joke, That nature, like me, delights to smoke. The little zephyrs down here in the grass Puff at the weeds as they swiftly pass; While the breeze of the ether is not too proud — Though almost too lazy — to blow a clove Every bird has a pipe of its own, And each has its * bird’s eye” views, tis known. 62 TOBACCO LEAVES The trees rejoice in a stem and bole, For the King of the Forest’s like old King Cole; And the hedges as well the practice suits, For they all of them boast their briar roots. Smoking, in short, is loved by all The works of nature both great and smal] — | Down to the very small grub, to be brief, — Youll find he is given to rolling a leaf. So why shouldn’t I, — As here I lie On my back to the bank — all those defy Who fain would the pleasant plant decry? | — Fun. 63 TOBACCO LEAVES Tur Universat Flower Piant of the world! Cosmopolite, Whose fragrance gives us pure delight And peace of mind! When friends desert, and fortune frowns On peasant head or kingly crowns, It joy can find. The universal flow’r, whose leaves expand, Whose branches spread o’er every land And every creed. In thee do all believe, and bless the Giver, And on the banks of life’s dark river We sow thy seed. Deist, Christian, Turk, or Jew, Brahmin, Fakir, and Dervish, too, All thee adore. The soldier, sailor, king, or prince, Thou hast no trouble to convince Of thy great pow’r. 64 TOBACCO LEAVES Whate’er opinions they profess, Whate’er their tenets, numberless, Orthodox or heretic, Thy incense offer to the skies, Thy glorious fumes from all arise, For thou art Catholic. None doubt thee, for thy religion’s good, For centuries thy fame hath stood, This is the test. It suits all men; for, understand, Each thinks his own peculiar brand ‘The very best.” The strongest will their voices raise, And lift on high their meed of praise To pungent Cavendish. The languid swell, who hates exertion, His off’ring tends to glorious Persian, Or dreamy Turkish. 65 TOBACCO LEAVES So we all smoke, all have our choice, Yet all, without dissentient voice, Thy fame proclaim, And laud thy virtues ev’rywhere, From land to land, from year to year, All sing the same. The glorious weed from sunny lands, In varied form and beauteous brands, To England’s shore It wends its way, unconquered still, Bending the strongest, mightiest will, And will for evermore. W. H. W., in Cope’s “ Tobacco Plant.” NarotEon No SMOKER Tue great Napoleon knew to conquer kings, But there was one thing that he could not do; 66 TOBACCO LEAVES He could not smoke; he never saw the blue Clouds curl about his brow in airy rings; The opiate power “ divine tobacco ” brings To rest both body and mind he never knew ; Friend of the weak, the strong man it o’erthrew, Who all the pleasure missed that from it springs. ’Tis said he once a splendid pipe would try, A Sultan’s gift. He could not learn to puff. _ Then Constant for his master lighted it. Choked by a whiff, the Emperor loud did ery, | **It makes me sick, the abominable stuff ! | Only for fools and sluggards it is fit.” W. L. SHoEMAKER. 67 TOBACCO LEAVES Time(s) To SMOKE AG Meppe lat Ee el laa ey ON Is always fine. AMUN yah moo.) ee. oy se: Is none too soon. A eoncha:’? iat threes ee eee The thing for me. Another) ab ved sci. VO On which to thrive. A pertecto 7 iat Seven. .\..4 6 4. An aroma to heaven! A Breve? ab mines ls va eee Is half divine. A ‘*boquet” before slumber. .X.? or XI.? Makes just the right number. ARTHUR GRAY. 68 EARLY LITERATURE OF TOBACCO Looxine backward over the ages and pages of history, the student and enthusi- ast is always surprised and delighted at the mine of matter on subjects dealing with the delights of the senses, the luxuries of the mind, and the comforts of the body. Painters and poets have pictured and sung of the beauty, sublimity, and nobility of nature in all her varying moods. Apart from this, every fruit of the soil in the scheme of creation has been given its proper setting in song and story and writ- ten record. Among all the offerings of the earth, however, no leaf, plant, berry, bean, flower, 69 TOBACCO LEAVES or tree can compare with tobacco in amount, variety, and excellence of the lit- erature devoted to the growth, develop- ment, and use of this plant. No other product has so pronounced a place, so definite a claim upon the thoughts and feelings of the human race as tobacco. There is—as every smoker knows —a reflective fragrance, a certain sentiment in the use of this weed that cannot be applied to any other blessing of nature connected with our existence. Little won- der is it, then, that tobacco-smoking has to itself, of itself, and by itself inspired the pens and brushes, footsteps and fin- gers of some of the world’s greatest writ- ers, artists, discoverers, and artisans. It is in its literature, however, that to- bacco can claim its greatest distinction. What real writer has not written of the delights of smoking? ‘Those who have not were not smokers, or, if they were, they 70 TOBACCO LEAVES could never have known a “heart to heart ” smoke. But let that pass. What of the poets and philosophers who have puffed the praises of the plant divine? Long life to their ashes — past, .present, and future. | In looking over the literature of smok- ing, we can go back almost to the day of its introduction as a civilized article of consumption. Of course, tobacco had its ill wishers and enemies; but of them we have no account to settle. They are all below the clouds, so to speak. Perhaps the first literary effusion, ac- cording to the Overland Monthly, wholly devoted to the * Nicotian weed ”’ is Nash’s ** Lenten Snuffe,”? an octavo tract, of date anterior to a.p. 1600. It is dedicated to Humphrey King; a London _ tobacconist and poor pamphleteer. Nash was an in- veterate Bohemian, and, as might be ex- pected, was extravagant in his praise of 71 TOBACCO LEAVES what Spenser called “divine tobacco.” This was followed by a larger and better work, in mock heroic verse, entitled the “Metamorphosis of Tobacco,” and dedi- cated to Drayton. Although published anonymously, the authorship is credited to Sir John Beaumont. It has since been reprinted in England, but there are prob- ably no copies of this literary curiosity in America. ** Looke to It for Ile (I'll) Stabbe Ye ” is the threatening title of a sixty-four- paged quarto published in London about A.D. 1604, and written by Samuel Row- lands. ‘The merit and tone of the whole may be judged from the following quota- tion : — “There is a humor us’d of late By every rascall swaggering mate To give the Stabbe: Ile stabbe (says he) - Him that dares take the wall of me. G2 : TOBACCO LEAVES If you to pledge his health denie Out comes his poinard — there you lie. If his Tobacco you dispraise, He swears a stabbe shall end your daies.” The author then continues to threaten all classes, dagger in hand. In another pam- phlet by the same writer, published a few years later, he assumes a more peaceful attitude. It is a satire called “ A Whole Crew of Kind Gossips, All Met to be Merry,” and in it he shows up the man- ners of the time by imaginary crimina- tions and recriminations between six hus- bands and their wives. ‘“‘ Good tobacco, sweet and strong,” 1s spoken of as one of the allurements to public resorts. Perhaps the husbands did not dare or care to smoke in the home then, and that was the cause of the trouble. How times have changed ; tobacco has come to its own in these regen- erate days. 73 TOBACCO LEAVES ‘Laugh and Lie Downe, or the World’s Folly,”’ is a quarto of 1605 a. p., London. This little book describes a fop of the day, and shows how indispensable the pipe had become to complete the outfit of a ‘ man of fashion.” ; “'The next was a nimble-witted and glib-tongued fellow, who having in his youth spent his wits in the Arte of Love, was now become the jest of wit; but his looks were so demure, his words so in print, his graces so in order, and his conceits so in time, that he was — yea iwis (I wis) so was he, such a gentleman for a jester that the Lady Folly could never be better fitted for her entertainment of strangers. The pick-tooth in the mouth, the flower in the eare, the kisse of the hand, the stoupe of the head, the leer of the eye, and what not that was unneedful, but he so perfecte at his fingers endes, that every she was my Faire Ladye, and scarce a Knight but was TA | TOBACCO LEAVES Noble Sir: the tobacco-pipe was at hand, when Trinidado' was not forgotten — why all things so well agreed together that at this square table of people, or table of square people, this man made by rule, could not be spared for a great sommee.”’ “The Gull’s Horne Book” (the “*Green- horn’s Hand Book’) was a well-known pamphlet of a.p. 1609. It was a satire made up of advice as to proper city beha- viour. Of the table in the inn it says: ** Before the meate comes smoaking to the board, our Gallant must draw out his tobacco-box, the ladle for the cold snuff into his nosthrill, the tongs and the prim- ing iron. All this artillery may be of gold or silver, if he can reach the price of it; it will be a reasonable, useful pawn at all times when the current of his money falles 1Trinidado was the name given to a favourite brand of tobacco, and by ‘‘square people’’ was meant in those times simply ‘‘ blockheads.’’ 75 TOBACCO LEAVES out to runne low. And here you must ob- serve to know that what state tobacco is in town better than the merchants, and to discourse of the potecaries where it is to be sold as readily as the potecary himselfe.” Here we see it suggested that the new luxury was an expensive one. Further proof of this is shown in a comedy called “The Sun’s Darling,’ published about the - same time as the above. . you have in your mouth, you ought to be able to offend and defend yourself against the whole world.” 135 TOBACCO LEAVES Smoxine on shipboard is made impera- tive, for does not the captain “ pipe all hands ” on deck? oe One of the most interesting sights to be seen in the prominent cigar factories in Havana is the tobacco artists at work on the expensive cigars for the European markets. ‘The number of men qualified to manipulate the tobacco put into these high-priced smokers is small, and most of them work only a few hours at a time. They earn big wages, and can afford to take things easy, for the demand for la- bour as skilled as theirs is always greater than the supply. The writer recently sat for an hour, watching one of these nico- tian artists working on a difficult shape for one of the European courts. After his long, tapering fingers had. finished the work of putting the wrapper on the cigar, 136 TOBACCO LEAVES he held it up before him, and viewed it with as much admiration as a_ painter would a picture after he had put the last touch of the brush to the canvas. The cigars which this man was making cost wholesale $1,500 a thousand, packed in inlaid cabinets. a a: Dap tells me my pipe will take all the fire of youth out of me. Nonsense; it puts fire in, for the old maxim says, “Where there is smoke there is fire.” Ue To smoke a fine cigar, after a real din- ner, with a good friend, is about as near “heaven on earth” as the average man will ever find south of the stars. Li es THERE are two things a man seldom for- gets — his first love and his first smoke. 137 TOBACCO LEAVES Learn to smoke slow. The other grace is to keep your smoke from other people’s faces. — Punch. a At the battle of Minden, where the French were signally defeated, the grena- diers of France were exposed to the fire of a battery, which made terrible havoc in their ranks. M. de Saint-Pern, who com- manded them, tried to make them as pa- tient as he knew them to be brave. He therefore made his horse go up and down in front of them at the very slowest pace, as if he were coolly trainmg it. His snuff-box he held in his hand, and from time to time he took a pinch with the greatest deliberation. Seeing the grena- diers startled and alarmed by murderous crash on crash, he said to them: ‘ What is the matter, my children? Do the can- non-balls disturb you? Doubtless they kill; but that is all.” 138 TOBACCO LEAVES CHARACTER IN SMOKING The Ideas of a Woman Who Has Been Sizing Up the Other Sex Unawares Accorpine to a man’s manner of smok- ing you shall know him, is the opinion of a keen observer of habits and characteristics. Let him gnaw at the end of his cigar and roll it between his lips, and you may depend he is cynical, likely to look always on the wrong side of human nature, and not to trust any one completely. The man who smokes with his cigar tilted upward has the traits that make for success, 1s brisk, aggressive, and likely to triumph over interference with his wishes. The smoker who guards his cigar jeal- ously, and will smoke it almost up to the point of charring his moustache or burn- ing his nose, is a tactician, scheming, self- 139 TOBACCO LEAVES seeking, and with an intense desire for power. The cigar tilted toward the chin de- notes the day-dreamer, the person who may have ideas and ambitions but seldom the practicality to carry them out. The cigar held steadily and horizontally indicates a callous, calculating nature, strong traits, but poor principles, the sort of man who could be brutal with indiffer- ence, should occasion arise. Men who let their cigar go out, and then try to relight it, also those who, after smoking for awhile, let the cigar go out and then throw it away, are likely to be irrational and without the capacity to put their powers to use. Men of quick, vivacious temper hardly touch the tip of their cigar with their teeth, and after taking two or three whiffs will remove it and hold it in their hand in absent-minded fashion. ‘They are men 140 TOBACCO LEAVES who change their opinions and ambitions often, and require the spur of novelty or necessity to make them exert their best powers. | The man who, after lighting his cigar, holds it not only between teeth and lips, but with two, three, or four fingers of his left hand, is fastidious and possessed of much personal pride. Such a smoker will often remove the cigar and examine the lighted end to see if it is burning evenly and steadily. Such actions indicate care- fulness, sagacity, and a character worthy of confidence and esteem. The smoker who sends forth smoke from both corners of the mouth in two divergent puffs is crotchety and hard to get along with, though he may have good mental faculties. The spendthrift, sometimes the adven- turer, is declared by the act of biting off the end of a cigar. Lack of judgment, 141 TOBACCO LEAVES dislike to pay debts, and not overniceness of habits are declared by this practice. The pipe smoker who grips his pipe so firmly between his teeth that marks are left on the mouthpiece is mettlesome, of quick, nervous temper, and likes to be tenacious of his opinions one way or an- other. The pipe held so that it hangs some- what toward the chin indicates the listless. ambitionless person, who might stand up to such responsibilities as come to him, but would never seek them or strive for high place. The man who fills his pipe hastily, hap- hazard fashion, and emits irregular puffs of smoke is of incautious, generous im- pulses, the sort of man who is a good comrade and has powers of entertaining, but whose friendship is not likely to be lasting nor to warrant implicit confidence. The man who fills his pipe slowly and 142 TOBACCO LEAVES methodically and smokes mechanically and regularly is likely to be reserved, prudent, and a good, dependable friend, while not of showy exterior. Many smokers, no matter how many cigar-cases they have, carry their cigars in the upper left-hand waistcoat pocket. This habit indicates a love of self-indul- gence and disinclination to make the slight- est exertion other than absolutely neces- sary. These observations, it should be remem- bered, are those of a woman who has been observing men who smoke. — New York Sun. Do’s, Don’ts, Nevers, AND REMEMBERS FOR SMOKERS Give your last cigar away occasionally. It will make you feel better. Don’t light a cigar in the presence of 143 TOBACCO LEAVES a respected friend or acquaintance, unless you give him one. This does not apply to employees, fellow boarders, or any one with whom you come in daily contact. Never refuse a light to any smoker. If you haven’t a match to give him, let him borrow some of your fire, even if it spoils your cigar. Remember that all smokers are equal — when smoking. Do keep a fresh pipe —if he is a pipe smoker — for your friend. Do the “ nice thing ”’ — once in awhile. If you have more than one cigar, and no- tice a man looking sadly out of the smok- ing-car window, proffer him one of your smokes, with the understanding that there have been times when you were short on smokes and long on loneliness yourself. Give your friend your best cigar. You’ll have lots of fine future smokes coming to you if you do. | 144 TOBACCO LEAVES Remember you can display more broth- erly feeling in the way you proffer a cigar than in a world of nice words or small loans. | Remember that the hospitable smoker is one of nature’s choicest creations. Never play a joke on a smoker. Don’t give the meanest of them a loaded cigar. It’s a brutal, dangerous, and stupid thing to do. Don’t be a cigar or cigarette “ sponge.” It’s a low down habit. You can lose your self-respect and the respect of your friends more in this way than any other. | Don’t be a strutting, nose-tilting smoker. It’s tough. Never smoke in the presence of ladies, unless you know it is not offensive. If you don’t know, ask them. If they object, don’t smoke. In spite of Kipling, any good woman is far finer than any cigar ever dreamed of. 145 TOBACCO LEAVES ‘‘ Life is too short for poor food, poor company, poor clothes,” and poor smokes. Remember that silence and a good cigar are two of the finest things on earth. Even a hermit can be an angel under these cir- cumstances, and a man of the world a man of the other world. Puff your smoke heavenward, and pitch your thoughts toward the clouds. (Oy Orie) CoFrFrEE without tobacco is like meat without salt. — Persian Proverb. A Many an after-dinner party, although above suspicion, has been “ under a cloud.” A cloud of contentment, a brand of har- mony, and an aroma of good-fellowship always good to look upon. 146 TOBACCO LEAVES Tue Dean of Carlisle has been denounc- ing tobacco smoking as pestiferous. Well, we prefer a cloudy atmosphere to a close one. — Fun. Re ie WiTH many men, cigars supply the in- tellectual vacuum which others ingeni- ously (?) fill up with sighs, shrugs, slan- der, shuffling, silly schemes, vagaries, vicious thoughts, whistling, weeping, wail- ing, beering, and bawling. [os RN Tuat I won’t smoke enny more cigars, only at somebody else’s expense. — Reso- lution by Josh Billings. Josh represented a very numerous and respectable body of smokers. OU U The Memory of the Past — The first cigar. 147 TOBACCO LEAVES My Lapy Nicotine anp How SHE SE- DUCED ME Sur is a common wench, this well- beloved mistress o’? mine. ‘There is no roystering blade, no gallant courtier, no ragged tramp, no rollicking sailor boy, who is not welcome to her close embrace, her sweet, perfumed kiss, and the languor- ous, delicious content that follows a brief hour’s dalliance with her charms. And yet I love her! Even as she is not nice in her choice of those to whom she gives her favours, so she is by no means fastidious as to the time or place of her assignations. Revel she will, it is true, in the daintiest boudoir, leaving the perfume of her presence on silken hangings, soft couches, and even in the costly rugs her lovers trample. Yet she speeds as joyously to the meanest hovel or den, where lurks some burly ruffian, 148 TOBACCO LEAVES who eagerly turns to her for solace after a day of toil or a night of crime. She is as ready to grant a stolen, hasty kiss to the tired, wet sentry on his guard, who perils a heavy punishment for the fleeting favour, as to linger on the lips of some puissant prince or potentate, it may be, of the Church itself. Wanton she is in her reckless, bound- less lust of conquest, not delicate of selec- tion, as even a Messalina might be, but robustious and all-devouring, as one of Smollett’s trolls. And yet I love her passing well. How dearly I remember the hour of my seduction. Hardly more than a mere lad, I had yet maintained for years a Puritan’s contempt for the riotous libertines who surrendered themselves to the strenuous sway of the Circean sorceress. Filled I had been with orthodox lies about the swin- ish transformations she wrought in her vic- 149 TOBACCO LEAVES tims, polluting their bodies, enervating their wills, and depraving their souls till they should be fit for all the nameless law- lessness from which I held myself so scorn- fully aloof. For it is unhappily true that even as her lovers love her, so do those hate her who have not tasted of her deyghts. And, as if in retribution for their folly, there comes upon these poor creatures a sort of madness, so that they rage and imagine vain things. Whereby it happens that they tell, and tell, one to another, grotesque fictions which they come to believe. And they utter these grievous fictions even to credulous youth, believing them only be- — cause they will believe anything against my Lady Nicotine. Whereas, God knows no worse need be said than I say, who speak the truth barely, and who do truly love her. But I was not then as one who knoweth 150 TOBACCO LEAVES good from evil, for I had not yet tasted the forbidden joy. For me there was Puri- tan asceticism on the one hand — the witch- ery of the world on the other. And I was still young. Witchery stood for sin. Pleasure, that had pleasure for its own sole excuse, was voluptuousness — a snare and a wile and a device of the Evil One with two capital letters; not the benevolent indulgence of an all-loving Father. And the jade tempted me and I fell. It was of a Sunday afternoon, a long summer day. Sick to desperation with heimweh; with nothing to read in the camp; scruple-bound too fast and _ too hard to join in the pursuit of the only game to be found at that hour of the day —draw-poker. I watched with empty and longing soul my comrades’ calm con- tent as they puffed their pipes, and dream- ily traced the smoke wreaths lazily and gracefully floating upward. 151 TOBACCO LEAVES Despite the wearisome longings of heimweh, despite the perils and discom- forts of the lonely camp, the spell of the lotus-eaters was upon me. ‘The old song rang with the subtle charm of unheard music to my inner ear: “Death is the end of life. Ah! Why should life all labour be? ” Vague desire, tempered with dread, and struggling with growing might against the old Puritan principle of self-denial for self-denial’s sake, kindled the flame that brought my Lady Nicotine to me, warm with her lascivious pleasing. ‘The bashful, virgin lips on which she had not yet left the ineffaceable trace of her touch, were half-reluctantly, half-willingly parted. A few tremulous, hesitant gasps of doubt- ing, fearsome yielding and I was hers. Not for me was any sickening revul- sion; I had no qualms of pain, scarcely a pang of regret. I was the predestined 152 TOBACCO LEAVES slave of the common mistress of the multi- tude. Since then, how she has comforted me! I have never wavered in my devotion — though, alas, I share her favours with un- numbered rivals. What measureless Joy might be mine, I dare not imagine, could I but selfishly keep her all my own. Gar- gantua’s most enormous thrill of gigantic ecstasy would seem a throb of pain beside the rapture of such magnificent, illimitable egoism. It is too great for even a dream. *T would be an eternal ecstasy. _ Save for this wild fantasy of desire, however, born of a fancy as hopeless as it is iridescent, I can have no fault to find with my Lady Nicotine. She has never failed me, never refused me, never disap- pointed me. She has soothed me in trouble, eased me in pain, even calmed my racked nerves when my heart was wrung with sor- row. She is an indulgent mistress, jealous 153 TOBACCO LEAVES of none, tender, and always sympathetic, even faithful in the sense that she is true to all her lovers. Does she not deserve my praise? Davip A. CurRTIS. Mininec MEErscHaum IN TuRKEY At present there are four districts in Turkey in which any one who so desires may enter into the business of meerschaum mining simply by paying the Ottoman government the sum demanded for a li- cense, namely, five piasters. These dis- tricts, as described by the Révue Scienti- fique, are Sari-Sou, Sepetdji, Geikh, and Menlon. The five thousand miners already engaged in this industry are Kurds and Persians, and all of them work according to the most primitive methods. ‘The work is carried on night and day by means of petroleum lamps, the blocks of meerschaum 154 TOBACCO LEAVES being brought to the surface still imbedded in their matrix. On the weekly sale day the workmen meet and sell their goods toa the “ luledjis,” or pipe manufacturers of Eskichehir. The blocks are then taken to the town and washed, after which they are cut into suitable pieces while the matter is still very soft. Sorting and classing is then proceeded with, and the “ luledjis ” in their turn sell their purchases to the larger dealers, who export the meerschaum, carefully enveloped in cotton wadding. Meerschaum is composed of about 70 per — _cent. of carbonate of magnesia, 0.25 of silex, and 0.05 of aluminum. A Cicar Heures THovenr E1rnv Root thinks that a cigar after breakfast is the smoke of the day, and there are many smokers who will agree with him. He is reported as saying: “ My 155 TOBACCO LEAVES breakfast is a very simple meal, and con- sists of a cup of coffee or chocolate and a roll. When I have finished it, I hght my cigar. I find that it assists me in my work. It does not aid me in the creation of ideas so much, nor in reading or actual writing; but when I want to prepare my plans for the day, when I want to arrange and put in shape the work I have before me, I find that smoking is a valuable assistant. I never smoke a large cigar in the morn- ing, and usually do not prolong the smoke beyond the time it takes me to arrange my day’s programme. Altogether I should say that I smoke five cigars a day. I have smoked steadily for the past thirty years, and during the first ten years I smoked a pipe. It has been my experience that smoking relieved me at any time when I felt overworked. Consequently, if I find at any time of day that my brain is get- ting tired, and that my ideas are getting 156 TOBACCO LEAVES muddled, I stop and light a cigar. I don’t think that smoking has a sedative effect upon me, but it composes my thoughts and soothes me to some extent.” A Betrer Man ror SMOKING Wuewn the Bishop of Manchester lived in Melbourne, Victoria, his open-air study and smoking den was in his garden, under the shade of a giant blue-gum-tree. A lady visitor having once suggested that tobacco was of Satanic origin, Bishop _Moorhouse replied: ‘* Pardon me, madam, I smoke, and I am a better Christian for doing so. Do you read my letters in the papers?’’? The lady answered that she did, with pleasure. ‘* Do you ever see anything discourteous or unkind in them? ” “Certainly not; I often remark how well you keep your temper.” Well, madam, the first drafts of these letters contained | 157 TOBACCO LEAVES the most cutting things I could think of. Then I would go and sit on the butt of that old gum-tree, ight my pipe and have a quiet smoke. After that I would return to the house and strike out every line that might give pain to others. So you see smoking makes me a better Christian.” 7 The Smoker’s Paradise — Puftin Island. age Bae} WueEen your favourite cigar does not taste good, do not put it away for ever. You may not be in condition. Give it another trial. If its light burns low re- peatedly, bury its ashes among the mem- ories of dead friendships, and — try an- other brand. 158 TOBACCO LEAVES Topacco AND THE HEART Tue New Orleans Times-Democrat gives the following interesting interview on the above subject: “I don’t like to upset a cherished tradition,’’ said a doctor who is himself a devotee of the weed, “‘ but the talk one hears of nicotine saturating the system of smokers is mostly rot. Nicotine is a deadly poison. One drop of it will make a good-sized mastiff turn up his toes, if injected subcutaneously, and it would take precious little of it to kill a man. The truth is that very little is absorbed, even by the most confirmed smokers. Now and then you read of men who die from excessive tobacco using, and are found on autopsy to be literally reeking with nico- tine. All rubbish. Nothing of the kind ever happened. “ Again, it’s a favourite experiment to blow smoke through a handkerchief, and 159 TOBACCO LEAVES the stain that is produced is popularly supposed to be made by nicotine. It is really oil of tobacco, which is a horse of quite a different colour. No, the chief harm done by smoking is the stimulus which it gives to the heart. This is par- ticularly true where ‘inhaling’ is prac- tised. Each time the smoke is inhaled it acts as a slight spur to the heart, and, needless to say, there is sure to be a reac- tion. If the smoker is in good general health, he will probably never feel it; but if he isn’t, there will be periods of pro- found depression, and, not knowing the cause, he is apt to try to brace up on a drink, which makes matters just that much worse. If he has organic heart trouble — valvular weakness, I mean — it’s quite possible that he will tumble over some day and put his angel plumage on. Those are the cold facts about smoking — none oth- ers are genuine.” | 160 TOBACCO LEAVES To a young man who stood smoking a cigar the other day there approached the elderly and impertinent reformer of im- memorial legend. ‘“‘How many cigars do you smoke a day?” asked the meddler. *“‘'Three,”” answered the youth, as pa- tiently as he could. ‘** How much do you pay for them?” ** Ten cents,” confessed the young man. **Don’t you know, sir,’ continued the sage, ** that if you would save that money, by the time you are as old as I am you could own that big building over the way?” ** Do you own it? ” inquired the smoker. as No.” * Well, I do,” said the young man. ee It’s an ill weed that nobody can smoke. 161 TOBACCO LEAVES Went Away SATISFIED He had asked for a certain brand of cigars and was reaching in his pocket for a coin, when something near the window attracted his attention and caused him to look around. When he faced the cigar counter again, he saw the cigar girl do an awful thing. She had his cigar on her tongue and was pasting back the loose wrapper. When she saw him, she blushed and tried to stammer an apology. “I prefer my cigars unlicked, if you please,” said the young man, in icy tones. She looked up and answered humbly and sweetly: ‘* But I don’t lick cigars for — every one. Have you thought of it in that way?” Evidently he hadn’t, for he insisted on taking the repaired cigar, and went away with a smile of satisfaction. — Kansas City Star. 162 TOBACCO LEAVES GrRANT’s CIGARS “My father,”? said General Frederick D. Grant, “ tried to smoke while at West Point, but only because it was against the regulations; and then he didn’t succeed very well at it. He really got the habit from smoking light cigars and cigarettes during the Mexican war, but it wasn’t a fixed habit. When he left the army and lived in the country, he smoked a pipe — not incessantly. I don’t think that he was very fond of tobacco then, and really ‘there was always a popular misconception of the amount of his smoking. ** But he went on as a light smoker, a casual smoker, until the day of the fall of Fort Donelson. ‘Then, the gunboats hav- ing been worsted somewhat and Admiral Foote having been wounded, he _ sent ashore for my father to come and see him. Father went aboard, and the admiral, as 163 TOBACCO LEAVES is customary, had his cigars passed. My father took one and was smoking it when he went ashore. There he was met by a staff officer, who told him that there was a sortie and the right wing had been struck and smashed in. Then my father started for the scenes of operations. He let his cigar go out, naturally, but held it between his fingers. | ‘“* He rode hither and yonder, giving or- ders and directions, still with the cigar stump in his hand. The result of his ex- ertions was that Donelson fell after he sent his message of ‘ unconditional sur- render’ and ‘I propose to move imme- diately upon your works.’ ‘The message was sent all over the country that Grant was smoking throughout the battle, when he only carried this stump from Foote’s flag-ship. But the cigars began to come in from all over the Union. He had eleven thousand cigars on hand in a very short 164 TOBACCO LEAVES time. He gave away all he could, but he was so surrounded with cigars that he got to smoking them regularly. But he never smoked as much as he seemed to smoke. He would light a cigar after breakfast and let it go out, then light it again, and then let it go out and light it; so that the one cigar would last until lunch-time.” — McClure’s Magazine. ~ A: CE Tue Briar - Root Inpustry Mr. Carmicuaret, British Vice-Consul at Leghorn, devotes an interesting section of the report on his district for the past. year to an account of the briar-root in- dustry. ‘The wood, he says, from which briar pipes are made is not the root of the briar rose, but the root of the large heath known in botany as the Erica arborea. 165 TOBACCO LEAVES Our “briar” is but a corruption of the French bruyére — broom, or heath. The briar-root industry has had a somewhat curious history. First begun in the Pyr- enees some fifty years ago, it travelled along the French Riviera and the Ligu- rian coast, taking Corsica by the way, to the Tuscan Maremma, and it has now reached Calabria in the south, which is at present its most flourishing centre. Nat- urally, when a district has been exhausted of all its roots, the industry must come to an end there, and the opinion has been expressed that the Italian branch of it can- not last much more than another ten years. Leghorn has always been the centre of the export of Tuscan briar-root since the Maremma industry came into existence, but, as the South Italian briar is of su- perior quality, a large quantity of the Calabrian root is also imported into Leg- horn for selection and subsequent export. 166 TOBACCO LEAVES The total export from Leghorn is esti- mated at 50,000 cwt. per year, valued at about £28,000. Fully half the export is Calabrian root. All the root that arrives in Leghorn has already been cut on the spot into the shape in which it is exported to the pipe-manufacturing centres, which are principally, as regards Italian briar, St. Cloud, in France, Nuremberg, in Ba- varia, and various towns in Rhenish Prus- sia and Thuringia. The roots, which are sometimes of a circumference of two feet or more, are cut into blocks and then boiled. If there is any defect in the root which has not been discovered before the boiling process, the blocks will split sooner or later. Briar-root blocks are cut into about twenty-five different sizes and three prin- cipal shapes. ‘The shapes are “ Marseil- laise,” ‘“‘releve,”’ and ‘“ Belgian.” The first two are the more usual shapes; from 167 TOBACCO LEAVES the first are cut the ordinary briar pipes, which have bowl and stem at right angles; ‘“‘ releve ’? blocks are cut into a shape for hanging pipes, and “ Belgian ” blocks, for which there is but small demand, are shaped to fashion into pipes which have bowl and stem at an obtuse angle. The minimum size of “ Marseillaise ’’ blocks is about three inches long, two inches thick, and one and a half inches broad. The Calabrian blocks, selected at Leg- horn and exported thence, seem to be in favour with the trade, as they remain so long on the dealer’s hands that they would be almost certain to split before export if they were defective. A Leghorn dealer who does his own cutting in Calabria has first to send the roots by wagon to his workshops, where they are boiled and cut, thence again by wagon to the seacoast, where they are placed in lighters for ship- ment to Leghorn. At Leghorn they are — 168 TOBACCO LEAVES once more transferred to lighters and placed in carts for transport to the ware- houses, where they are unpacked for selec- tion. They are then repacked in bales and carted to the goods station for convey- ance abroad. Hence a considerable amount of time must elapse before they leave the hands of a merchant who does his own cut- ting in Calabria. A considerable number of blocks are sent to the United States, but, apparently, none whatever to the United Kingdom. CIGARETTES In CHINATOWN ‘Ir is my belief,” said an old resident of New York, “ that the Chinese were the first to smoke cigarettes in this part of the country. I remember the first China- men who came to New York, some fifty odd years ago. They were the curiosities of the day, and with other small boys I | 169 TOBACCO LEAVES followed them about the streets in open- mouthed wonder. They wore the long flowing robes which have characterized the garments of the race for three thou- sand years, and the shining silk, queer felt shoes, and long, dangling queues were marvellous to the American _beholders. They carried fans in their hands, and whenever the sun shone too strongly they slapped them open, as they do on the comic-opera stage, and _ shielded their faces, but never used them to create cooler air while in the street. But it was the cigarette innovation that struck us with most awe. None of the Chinamen was engaged in the laundry business as now, and the sale of tobacco — the strong Chi- nese variety, which resembles our Loui- siana Perique — and cigarettes seemed to form their sole occupation. They kept little stands on the street corners, and 170 TOBACCO LEAVES there they would stand and roll cigarettes all day long, and smoke and puff them and blow the smoke through their nos- trils, and make rings and go through all the tricks of the fancy smoker until they had gotten the more daring to purchase their wares. After that it became a fad, and the dandy of the day was the one who could sport his eye-glass, rattan cane, pointed shoes, and Chinese cigarette to ef- fect the greatest show. I won’t say that it did not make a great many of the gen- tlemen of fashion very sick. ‘They could smoke cigars, but the cigarette habit was a novelty then, and the veteran of to-day who consumes half a dozen packages in twenty-four hours would laugh at the amount of coughing and expectorating and uneasiness caused by the consump- tion of one of the slender articles brought over by our heathen friends.” 171 TOBACCO LEAVES A Dry SmMoKe Every evening the 5.10 o’clock train to Chestnut Hill from the Reading terminal carries a young lawyer to his suburban home. He always takes a seat in the smoking-car, and, pulling a cigar from his waistcoat pocket, carefully cuts off the end and places it in his mouth. Then he sits and reads his paper. Sometimes the man sharing the seat with him will offer a match or a light from his own cigar, but it is invariably declined. “When are you going to light that ci- gar? ” asked one of his fellow suburbanites the other evening. “I don’t know; pos- sibly never,” was the reply. ‘ You see, I have heart trouble, and the doctor for- bids me to smoke. It’s been over five years now since I’ve had a lighted cigar in my mouth. But I love the odour of a cigar, and that’s why I always ride in the smok- 172 TOBACCO LEAVES ing-car and indulge in a dry smoke myself. I always like to have a cigar in my mouth, and I use up a good many of them that way. I used to smoke from twenty to twenty-five cigars a day.” — Philadelphia Record. Tospacco In War Tue war in South Africa has taught many things of greater and of less im- portance. Perhaps nothing that it has demonstrated has been more marked than the important part which tobacco plays in the soldier’s existence. Whether this is to be reckoned as a great fact or a small one, there can be no doubt about the truth of it. Yet the Duke of Wellington’s ar- mies had no tobacco worth speaking of. If they did not forbid its use, at any rate the Iron Duke’s officers were directed to advise their men strongly against it. 173 TOBACCO LEAVES What a curious contrast with the cam- paigning in South Africa, where marches and privations as long and as stern as any suffered by our great-grandfathers were borne by the volunteers and soldiers of to-day, with a grumble only when their ** smokes ” failed them. We have it from many who took part in the forced marches leading to Paarde- berg, to Bloemfontein, to Pretoria, and beyond, that when rations were but two or three biscuits a day, the only real phys- ical content of each twenty-four hours came with the pipe smoked by the smoul- dering embers of a camp-fire. This pipe eased the way to sleep that might other- wise have lingered, delayed by the sheer bodily fatigue and mental restlessness caused by prolonged and monotonous ex- ertion. It is difficult, then, to believe that tobacco is anything but a real help to men who are suffering long labours and 174 TOBACCO LEAVES receiving little food, and probably the way in which it helps is by quieting cere- bration — for no one doubts its sedative qualities — and thus allowing more easily sleep, which is so all-important when semi- starvation has to be endured. -'The cases of acute mental derangement in the course of campaigns such as the present are many. ‘There have indeed been many in South Africa. It would be most profitable and interesting could medical officers have taken special note of the ca- pacity for sleep previously evidenced by those who broke down and also of their indulgence or non-indulgence in tobacco. We are inclined to believe that, used with due moderation, tobacco is of value second only to food itself when long privations and exertions are to be endured. Two features are to be noted with re- gard to the smoking practised in active service. It is almost entirely in the open 175 TOBACCO LEAVES air and it is largely on an empty stomach. The former is always an advantage; the latter we generally reckon a most unfa- vourable condition. Shall we see in the near future patients with tobacco ambly- opia or smoker’s heart, acquired while the trusting friend of tobacco thought that he was enjoying unharmed the well-earned solace of a hard day’s march? We believe not, and that the open air will have saved what might have been the untoward re- sults of smoking when unfed. — London Lancet. oe OAS He is a poor moke who can’t smoke. a we Tue older the pipe the sweeter the per- fume. Like old friends who have been tried by fire and never ‘ smoked out ” — stronger, more fragrant, more mellow. 176 TOBACCO LEAVES “ Nopopy comes whose talk is half as good to me as silence. I fly out of the way of everybody, and would much rather smoke a pipe of wholesome tobacco than talk to any one in London just now. Nay, their talk is often rather an offence to me, and I murmur to myself, — why open one’s lips for such a purpose.” Poor Car- lyle! tobacco was about the only thing in which he took comfort. bo a Wuat tHe Man with THE Briarwoop Says WHEN we see womankind taking to- bacco in the privacy of its own chamber, with its feet on the fender, and “ none to supervise;*? more particularly when we see it solacing itself with a pipe, then, but not till then, shall we be forced to admit V7 TOBACCO LEAVES ** the sex ” to the privilege of full equality with us —a state. of things which mascu- line prejudice still considers must be the highest circumstance of earthly bliss. It is but a poor, shallow devotion to to- bacco that is content with anything but a pipe. The cigarette is well enough in its way; it may suffice * between the acts,” or during similar brief escapes from a smokeless world, or for offerimg to our friends and neighbours as the best modern substitute for the elaborate civility of the snuff-box, but it rises not to the dignity of serious smoking. The cigar, too, with all its charms, leaves something to be de- sired. It is too ostentatious, too obviously a “luxury” to be really delightful. It satisfies not; for somehow, far away, 1s the Ideal cigar, not to be purchased by or- dinary mortals, and yet, according to the connoisseur, the only cigar worth smok- ing. It has, too, an overwhelming sug- wl 2 ae ale ome TOBACCO LEAVES gestion of respectability, of sparing no ex- pense and always travelling first-class, of faring sumptuously every day, of wearing a very good hat all the week through, and a still better one on Sunday. It should be reserved for special occasions ; for ordinary, every-day consumption there is nothing that can approach the familiar pipe. There are pipes and pipes. Archaic persons are still to be found who declare for the churchwarden. ‘There is, it is true, something fascinating in its — * Lip of wax and eye of fire, And its snowy taper waist With my fingers gently braced!” something also marvellously impressive in its proper manipulation by one who is a master of the art, but this is within _ the reach of few. It needs its proper sur- 179 TOBACCO LEAVES roundings — a blazing fire, a sanded floor, a group of comfortable and, if possible, capacious gentleman with a strong tend- ency to silence and punch; none of which are prominent characteristics of modern society. ‘The present-day smoker of the churchwarden is something of a poseur, as a rule; he is very young; eccentricities in pipes are the privilege of the young, being designed to impress those who are still younger. And then, when it has been successfully coloured, the labour of months is apt to be destroyed by the implacable housemaid. 'The old-fashioned smoker was less susceptible to the sorrow of such a calamity as this; he was content to call, like Sir Roger de Coverley, for a “ clean pipe,” and apparently cared not for the vanities of colouring. His pipe was but _ the fortuitous companion of an evening, wedded to him by no enduring ties, “ called for” at his coffee-house as though it was 180 0 Se ae ee ae ae TOBACCO LEAVES merely a toothpick, to be used but once and then cast away. But now we desire a more permanent alliance, and so the day of the churchwarden is past, and even its humbler relation, the short clay, having the family failing of brittleness, is disappearing. There are devotees of the meerschaum ; but it is not every one who will undertake such a responsibility. Its humours and its delicacy become oppressive; it is not to be touched with the hand or smoked out- of-doors, nor too near the fire; nor to be knocked out, or otherwise roughly treated ; nor smoked too fast or too slow. And then, with all our care, we find some happy- go-lucky individual, apparently the espe- cial favourite of the Goddess of the Weed, who does all these forbidden things, and still gets his pipe to a state of perfection which the more painstaking person attains but in his dreams. There is something distinctly irrational in a meerschaum pipe; 181 TOBACCO LEAVES we may wax it, plug it, humour it in every possible way, and yet it will not go right; and then, when we set at defiance all the canons that the collected wisdom of meer- schaum smokers has formed, it will assume such colour and brilliancy as to be the marvel of all beholders. One is tempted to doubt whether the law of casualty ap- plies to meerschaum. ‘They have their charms; they may gratify the esthetic sense with eagles’ claws and negroes’ heads and skulls and other delightful and fan- tastic figures; and when brought to per- fection may inspire legitimate pride; but they demand too much of sacrifice and tender treatment. Doubtless they are good masters, but they are bad servants; it is not every one who will submit to their exactions. In the modest briar there is less poten- tiality of splendour; but still it has graces enough to win for itself the adherence of 182 TOBACCO LEAVES the great bulk of those who profess the cult of the pipe. There are some, indeed, who have no eyes for its idiosyncrasies, and, being severely utilitarian, think all pipes alike. But the connoisseur in briars is a nice and subtle critic. ‘The selection of a new pipe he considers a serious mat- ter. He will tolerate nothing but his fa- vourite grain; he can foresee the possibil- ities of colour and potash; is not deceived by meretricious pluggings and varnishing 3 and his pipes gleam and glitter in the firelight like newly shelled horse-chestnuts. It is a thankless thing to present him with a pipe; indeed, the presentation of smok- ing implements generally is a_ perilous | practice for the unwary, and one which only feminine ignorance will, as a rule, attempt. ‘The pipe of that class described as ** suitable for presents” is a frightful trap for the well-intentioned; in silver fittings and plush-lined cases it is indeed 183 TOBACCO LEAVES resplendent, but it will move the initiate in the cult almost to tears. It is disfigured by all sorts of horrible improvements; has, as a Yule, patent sanitary arrangements of the most complex and unnecessary na- ture; things which the seasoned smoker cannot tolerate. ‘The choice of a pipe is a thing to be left to the expert; and for him to delegate the office is the highest mark of confidence he can bestow. — Lon- don Globe. Re Ae SENTIMENTALISTS have frequently be- wailed the passing of the noble redman. They say that he is disappearing with the other denizens of the once free and track- less plains. Civilization is wiping them all out. The buffalo has vanished before the furbelow, and where the wild antelope once roamed, the tame cantaloupe now thrives. In a few years hence there will 184 , TOBACCO LEAVES be no more aborigines except on football teams and in Wild West shows. It is very sad. But, strange to say, nobody has seemed to notice that the wooden Indian is also becoming extinct. Time was when wooden Indians were as plentiful as pledges be- fore a primary. In those halcyon days a tobacco store without a painted warrior extending a bundle of cigars in one hand and brandishing a hatchet in the other was as incomplete as ‘*‘ Hamlet’? minus the Melancholy Dane. At present New Or- leans might be scoured from end to end without discovermg enough wooden Indi- ans to make the head set at a ghost dance. As a matter of fact there is only one gen- uine, old-time wooden Indian left in the entire city. He is the last of the Mohi- cans. ‘There are a few others, but they are fake Indians made of terra cotta. They are not the real stuff. | 185 TOBACCO LEAVES This singular discovery was made in a singular manner. Ever since Tammany Hall, in New York city, acquired national prominence, Indian names and titles have been popular among local Democratic or- ganizations. New Orleans, for example, has its Choctaw Club, and elsewhere such tribal appellations as Wyandotte, Chero-— Kee, Arapahoe, Navahoe, and even Black- foot have distinguished the societies of the faithful. Among the many Southern clubs which have followed this picturesque and pleasant custom is that of Donaldson- ville, La. It calls itself “ The Mohawk.” When the name was determined upon, not long ago, the officers of the organiza- — tion were seized with a happy inspiration, namely, to secure a large and _ robust wooden Indian and station him as a sen- try in the vestibule. Such an effigy, as they very sensibly argued, would not only form a neat and appropriate emblem of the 186 TOBACCO LEAVES order of Donaldsonville Mohawks, but would lend dignity and impressiveness to the outer portals and scare away any boozy wanderer who might seek to penetrate the inner secrets. It would be easy, they felt assured, to remove the bunch of cigars from the chieftain’s right hand and sub- stitute a ballot-box or a copy of the club’s charter. Nobody dreamed that there would be the slightest difficulty in securing a suit- able Indian in a city the size of New Or- leans, and a commission to that effect was promptly forwarded to a trusted friend who stands high in the counsels of the local Choctaws. ** Purchase for us immediately,” it ran in substance, “* one full-grown wooden In- dian of good moral character, and send per earliest freight, accompanied by draft and bill of lading. P. S.— Do not send us any cast-iron or crockery Indians. Cut 187 9 TOBACCO LEAVES a splinter off of him before closing trade and see that he is sure enough wood.” The gentleman who undertook this in- teresting and delicate mission had a vague idea that he could encounter a wooden Indian on almost any corner in the busi- ness district. What, therefore, was his amazement to learn that wooden Indians had long since disappeared from the haunts of commerce. ** You might as well look for a plesiosau- rus in Lake Pontchartrain,” said a scien- tific friend. ‘‘ The wooden Indian has be- come entirely extinct.” However, after a long and _ patient search, one lone survivor was discovered. He was found guarding the entrance of a tobacco store on Camp Street, and it needed no second glance to determine that he was a relic from the remote and legend- ary past. In spite of fresh war paint and varnish, he carried abundant evidences of 188 TOBACCO LEAVES antiquity. His Roman nose was fractured from some forgotten fall, his legs were scarred by the pocket-knives of vandals innumerable, his left arm was evidently a restoration, and from scalp-lock to moc- casin his weather-beaten frame bore heavy traces of the touch of time. His origin is enveloped in mystery, but according to tradition he has stood at his present post for more than forty years. Historical personages are said to have re- clined against his breast when overcome by fatigue on their way home from lodge; there are even stories — but let that pass. Suffice it to say he is a landmark — a red- man with a record. Nor has he figured before the public solely in the character of a curbstone sen- try. On more than one occasion he has been borrowed to lend realism toa sidewalk setting on the stage. His last appearance in that capacity was when he enacted the 189 TOBACCO LEAVES role of a cigar sign in the comedy of — “ McFadden’s Flats ” at the Tulane Thea- tre. It was thought by many that he was the best actor in the cast. But to resume the thread of the story: Overjoyed at the discovery of so unmis- takable an antique, the representative of the Donaldsonville Mohawks lost no time > in interviewing the present proprietors. His proposition was received coldly, al- most with indignation. Part with the only adult wooden Indian in New Orleans! Rob the city of a statue older and uglier than Henry Clay! Oddsblood! Perish the thought! The offer was turned down, also spurned. But the Donaldsonville Mohawks were not so easily thwarted. When advised of the situation, their yearning for a wooden Indian was, if anything, redoubled. The braves and sachems laid their heads to- 190 TOBACCO LEAVES gether and wrote their agent to make another and more tempting bid. This has been done, and whether the second prop- osition will fare better than the first re- mains to be seen. The figure is alluring, but, if accepted, New Orleans will be with- out a wooden Indian to its name. ‘That is to say, without a full-grown wooden Indian. There are others, as already stated, but they are either pigmies in stat- ure or counterfeits in material. Moreover, the art of making wooden Indians is lost. So far as can be learned, there is nobody at present in the business. It has passed into desuetude with the carving of figure- heads for ships. The only other old-time wooden effigy of heroic size now in New Orleans is the ancient admiral who has squinted through a sextant at upper Canal Street ever since the year of grace 1856. He was made in 191 TOBACCO LEAVES London, and belongs to the tribe beloved of Captain Cuttle. — New Orleans Demo- crat. THE END. 192 ae TR WL FO SME aAR ACH pee Rage eee Sho3\ ; oe es ee : ae 4 Cn a i =n ee ¢ i os ee ae ‘ Ac ee Ne ce Baw ate = oe Pan Nee ws tet oe AS moe oo ae oe ee Ao SER See ZC TTT 0 029 714 207 0