TOBACCO
in
SONG ©. STORY
By
JOHN BAIN, Jr.
New York Boston
H. M. CALDWELL CO
CT
Copyright, 1896
BY
ARTHUR GRAY
INTRODUCTION.
A GOOD book needs no eloquent pen
to etch its merits in the way of an intro-
duction.
It was evident, however, to the com-
piler of this book, that no volume treating
on Tobacco had heretofore appeared
which contained all that deserved a place
in the literature of the weed, and at the
same time avoided the scientific treatises
and exhaustive histories on the subject
which have no interest to the great army
of smokers.
This, in brief, is the object of this
anthology. All the illustrations in this
little volume have been drawn especially
for it. The binding and paper are in
keeping with the best mechanical features
ii INTRODUCTION.
of any book ; while its handy size makes
of it a book in which any smoker may
delight.
There is something in the book that
will appeal to every lover of the weed,
no matter what his station in life may be
or the grade of tobacco he consumes. It
is not meant to be any more a book for
the smoker of twenty-five cent cigars than
for the man behind the clay pipe.
It is intended to be a book of good
fellowship, in which all smokers are free
and equal.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. Sketch^ ... 7
THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO, ... so
A FEW WORDS ABOUT TOBACCO, . . 23
ORIGIN OF TOBACCO, Conte Arabe, . , 24
PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING, . . . 26-35
The Smoking Philosopher, Marryat. —
With Pipe and Book, Richard Le Galli-
enne.— Carlyle 'on Tobacco.— In Favor
of Tobacco, Samuel Rowlands.— PL Pipe
of Tobacco, Isaac H. Browne. — Bulwer-
Lytton on Tobacco Smoking. — Invoca-
tion to Tobacco, Henry James. Mellen.—
The Happy Smoker, E. Bonfils.—S&ra.
Slick on the Virtues of a Pipe. — Opinion
of St. Pierre.— Smoke Dreams, A. B.
Tucker. — Guizot. — My Pipe, German
Smoking Song.
iii
IV CONTENTS.
PAGE
POETRY OF SMOKE, 36-7°
Latakia, T. B. Aldrich.— Sublime To-
bacco, Lord Byron. — Virginia Tobacco,
John Stanley Gregson.—f^. Good Cigar,
Norris Bull.—K Poet's Pipe, Richard
Herne Shepherd.— The Happy Smoking
Ground, Richard Le Gallienne. — A
Farewell to Tobacco, Charles Lamb. —
Inscription for a Tobacco Jar, Cope.—
The Scent of a Good Cigar, Kate A.
Carrington. — In the Ol' Tobacker
Patch, S. Q. Lapius.— Motto for a To-
bacco Jar.— A Stub of Cigar, Volney
Streamer.— The Pipe You Make Your-
self, Henry E. Brown.— Smoking Away,
Francis Miles French.— Tobacco, Geo.
Wither.— A Maiden's Wish.— My Cigar-
ette, Charles F. Lummis.— Those Ashes,
R. K. Munkittrick.-H.ovf It Once Was>
New York Sun. — Beer, George Arnold.
On a Tobacco Jar, Bernard Barker.—
'Twas Off the Blue Canaries, Joseph
Warren Fabens.—ln Wreaths of Smoke,
Frank Newton Holman.—The Old Clay
Pipe, A. B. Van /^-/.—Knickerbocker,
Austin Dobson. — Ode to Tobacco, C. S.
Calver/ey.—My Friendly Pipe, Detroit
Tribune.— Choosing a Wife by a Pipe of
Tobacco, Gentleman1 & Magazine. — A
Bachelor's Soliloquy, Edmund Day.—
I Like Cigars, Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
CONTENTS. V
PAGE
SMOKERS' STORIES, 71-99
Bismarck's Last Cigar.— The Uses of
Cigar Ash. — Jules Sandeau on the
Cigar. — Tennyson as a Smoker. — To-
bacco in North America. — Shakespeare
and Tobacco. — The Etymology of To-
bacco.— Emerson and Cariyle. — Napo-
leon's First Pipe.— Mazzini's Sang-froid
as a Smoker. — A Smoker in Venice. —
Milton's Pipe. — Professor Huxley on
Smoking.— Robert Burns' Snuff-Box.—
A Smoking Empress. — An Ingenious
Smoker. — Raleigh's Tobacco-Box. —
Smoking in 1610. — Pigs and Smokers. —
The Social Pipe.
TOBACCO FACTS, 100-101
Ages Attained by Great Smokers.
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS, . . 102-116
PUFFS, 117-126
MISCELLANEOUS, 127-144
How to Keep a Pipe Good-Natured.—
The Betrothed, Rudyard Kipling.—
How to Color a Meerschaum. —To My
Pipe. Sigel Jtous&.—She, Carl Werner.
—The Dealer's Dupe, Carl Werner.—
< A Free Puff," Arthur Gray.
TOBACCO IN SONG AND
STORY.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
WALTER RALEIGH'S
name will always, among the
English-speaking races, be
linked with that of Tobacco.
Raleigh it was who, in the
sixteenth century, found tobacco en the
plantations of Virginia, and introduced
it into England and Ireland, along with
the potato. He planted both upon his
estate at Gongall, Ireland, the home
presented to him by the auburn-haired,
8 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
falcon-faced Elizabeth, England's one
great queen, for services rendered upon
the Spanish Main and in the then New
World.
Columbus was the first European to
discover tobacco. When he and his
companions saw the Indians smoking it
and blowing the smoke through their
nostrils, they were as much surprised as
they had been at the first sight of land.
But they were no more surprised than
Ben Jonson, Beaumont, Selden, Fletcher,
and Shakespeare when, one stormy night,
Sir Walter Raleigh walked into the Mer-
maid tavern and, throwing pipes and
tobacco upon the table, invited all hands
to smoke. Shakespeare thought that it
was anticipating things a little to smoke
in this world, and that Bacon should have
the monopoly of it ; while Ben Jonson —
" rare Ben," the roundest and fattest and
gruffest of men — after the first pipeful or
two, growled : " Tobacco, I do assert,
without fear of contradiction from the
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. Q
Avon skylark, is the most soothing, sov-
ereign, and precious weed that ever our
dear old Mother Earth tendered to the
use of man ! Let him who would con-
tradict that most mild, but sincere and
enthusiastic assertion, look to his under-
taker. Sir Walter, your health." Then
everyone drained his mug's contents, and
Sir Walter was happy in the conscious-
ness of having given something to civil-
ized man second only to food.
If the conversation of those master
minds that night could have been pre-
served, few books that we know would
equal in wisdom, wit, humor, and bril-
liancy, a volume made of it. But, alas !
there was no Boswell there, with his note-
book, his prying eyes and eager ears, and
that night has passed into the great sea of
oblivion, like the snow that fell, the winds
that blew, the flowers that budded, blos-
somed, faded, withered, and died, three
thousand years ago — or thirty.
Something about Sir Walter Raleigh
10 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
should here be told, not for the first time,
— nothing nowadays is ever told for the
first time, — but in our own way. A few
pages will epitomize the life of this bold,
handsome, gallant, honest and honorable,
tender and loyal, simple and courage-
ous, sixteenth-century gentleman. None
braver ever lived, loved, sang, suffered,
and died, the best he knew how, than this
jewel of a man. No more romantic life
has been chronicled than his.
He was born in the same year with
Edmund Spenser, 1552 ; and twelve years
before Kit Marlowe and the glorious
Shakespeare, both of whom came into the
world in 1564. In all the annals of liter-
ature, or in all the illimitable worlds of
illimitable space, in all the illimitable ages,
was there ever, or will there ever be such
a quartette gathered under one roof, its
one room (the Mermaid's) as that on«
composed of Raleigh, Spenser, Marlowe,
and Shakespeare.
It was at the Hayes Farm, in Devon.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. I?
shire, that Raleigh first saw the light of
day. He grew up in the country, from
babyhood to his teens, and into them, as
other boys do. He loved outdoors, play,
study. He was as adventurous as Clive
who, later on, gave England India; but
unlike Clive, he had his poetic days and
nights. Clive was all adventure, bold-
ness, recklessness, and business ; Raleigh
was all these — except the latter. More-
over, he was a student and a lover of
poetry.
Raleigh was educated at Oxford, and,
at the age of seventeen, when most Eng-
lish boys are going home for the holidays,
roast goose and apple sauce, plum pud-
ding and 'alf-an'-'alf, he began his me-
teor-like career, as a volunteer in the
cause of the French Protestants. For
more than five years he fought in the
Continental wars, and at the age of
twenty-four he joined his half-brother,
Sir Humphrey Gilbert, in a voyage to
North America. In 1578, two years
12 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
later, at the age of twenty-six, he re-
turned to England, with a Jot of — Ex-
perience. He couldn't make much of a
splurge on that, so we find him, as Cap-
tain Raleigh, a little later on, in Ireland,
fighting like a bulldog against the rebel
Desmonds. He fought so well that he was
chosen to bear dispatches from the Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland to Auburn Lizzie.
Fortune's wheel swung round, until
Raleigh stood on top of it the day he
met Elizabeth. She could make or
break any man in England in those days.
Raleigh's star was in her happiest
mood that day when she sent her gallant
prote'ge' up a certain thoroughfare, down
which the bejeweled queen was coming,
for as Lizzie paused at a particularly
muddy place with a shudder of disgust,
young Captain Raleigh whipped off his
cloak and flung it beneath her virgin feet.
She repaid him with a smile, and from
that moment Captain Raleigh was in the
saddle.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 13
In less than no time he was a knight,
Captain of the Queen's Guard, and Sen-
eschal of Cornwall ; besides receiving a
grant of twelve thousand acres of land in
Ireland, and the sole right of licensing
wine-sellers in England.
Elizabeth knew how to reward those
in whom she took a platonic interest.
She gave them something besides shawls,
portraits of her effulgent self, and grand-
motherly advice. There was no squatty
royalty about Elizabeth of England.
Nothing was too good for those who
served the state ; nothing too severe for
the state's enemies.
Raleigh now had all kinds of money :
money to burn, to throw away, to treat,
spend, and loan. He had a lot of
stranded friends among the poets and
dramatists of that day, and he helped
them all out of his large purse and larger
nature.
Then he lost more than half his fortune
in an attempt to colonize North America.
14 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
Twice he sent out expeditions to
America, but the ancestors of King
Philip and Massasoit would not allow
him to do it. The first settlers escaped
in their nightcaps and slippers, and
boarded Francis Drake's ships ; but the
second band were tomahawked and
scalped. The first expedition brought to
England tobacco, and the succulent and
necessary Murphy. Raleigh called a
State Virginia, after his Virgin Queen,
and the capital of North Carolina is
known to this day as Raleigh.
In the splendid fight of English sea-
men against the Armada of Spain — a
fleet Philip sent out to wipe England
off the map — Raleigh was a leader.
Such men as Francis Drake, John Haw-
kins, and Frobisher were his companions
in that never-to-be-forgotten Homeric
sea conflict. Then Raleigh became the
owner of the magnificent acres of Sher-
borne, in Dorsetshire ; then the disgraced
husband of Elizabeth Throgmorton ; the
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 15
daring explorer of the Orinoco ; the hero
of the siege of Cadiz and the capture of
Fayal ; and then Elizabeth died, and
James the First, with his big head, slob-
bering mouth, codfish eyes, spindle
shanks, his want of dignity, his drunk-
enness, his affectation of learning, and his
rank cowardice, came to the throne.
He had hardly filled the chair left vacant
by Elizabeth before Raleigh's star began
to sputter like a midnight candle, and
Cecil, his former chum, began to poison
the king's mind against him. Cecil did
his backcapping work so thoroughly, in
1603, when Raleigh was fifty-one years
of age, that James had the former
favorite stripped of nearly all his honors
and rewards.
The world is always full of Cecils,
Jameses, and (comparative) Raieighs.
Every man who reads this, knows
that.
But worse followed, thanks to the
reptile Cecil : Raleigh was charged with
16 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
having been at the head of a plo<i to
kidnap James and place Lady Arabella
Stuart on the throne. He was tried for
treason, in Winchester Castle. He was
sent to the Tower, and for thirteen years
kept there. During those thirteen years,
his friend, William Shakespeare, was be-
coming the Miracle of Time — the greatest
man ever cast by the tides of Time on
the shores of Life. What a world of
pities that for those thirteen golden years
to Shakespeare, Raleigh never saw one of
the great plays of England's King of
Kings, and that, in 1616, the year Ra-
leigh was released from the Tower to
find gold in America for James the First,
Shakespeare should die ! Well, two years
later, Raleigh followed him. But Shake-
speare died in bed.
While in the Tower, Raleigh wrote his
" History of the World " ; and there he
spent much of his time in chemical ex-
periments, in the course of which he
sought eagerly for the philosopher's
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. If
stone, and the elixir of life. But he
found them not. They are still with
Keely's motor, in the womb of Time.
In 1616, James the First sent Raleigh
with fourteen ships to the Orinoco after
the tons of gold he thought were there.
All Raleigh found was a bar or two of
gold, captured from a Spanish settlement
on the Orinoco River. His son Walter
was killed in the assault upon the settle-
ment, and, " with my brains broken," he
wrote his wife, he was forced to sail for
home from the grave of his son.
It would be of historic interest to have
the grave of young Walter Raleigh lo-
cated, by the way. Like Ophelia's body,
the body of a Raleigh should enrich the
soil that has received it.
The Spaniards were wild with rage at
Raleigh's acts, and Spain went yelling,
into James's audience chamber, " Pirates !
Pirates ! "
Spain demanded reparation. James
desired to please Spain, as he wished to
18 SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
marry his son Charles to the Infanta.
So he had Raleigh arrested on his return
to England, and on October 19, 1618, at
the age of sixty-six, he was beheaded, at
Westminster, upon the fifteen-year-old
charge of " treason." Because a " king "
had committed it, it wasn't called " mur-
der"; but when Cromwell cut off the
head of Charles the First— Horrors ! —
that was " murder " — to kill a worthless
" king " ; but that was " execution " to
kill a fine gentleman like Raleigh, who
was worth titty thousand kings by divine
rot.
No man could die more splendidly
than did Raleigh. He smilingly picked
up the axe on his way to the block and,
running his finger over the edge of it,
said :
" This is a sharp medicine, but it will
cure all disease/' Two blows, and a
master of the sword, the compass, and
the pen was without a head.
What a pity, that he couldn't have had
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. IQ
a box of perfectos the night before he
left the world ! Well, maybe James the
First, tiis murderer, is compelled to
smoke " two for five " where he is.
2O THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.
THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.
A Sailor's Version.
THEY were three jolly sailors bold,
Who sailed across the sea ;
They'd braved the storm, and stood the gale,
And got to Virgin-ee.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,—
Or p'raps a bit before,—
And now these here three sailors bold
Went cruising on the shore.
A lurch to starboard, one to port,
Now forrard, boys, go we,
With a haul and a " Ho ! " and a "That's your
sort ! "
To find out Tobac-kee.
Says Jack, " This here's a rummy land."
Says Tom, " Well, shiver me !
The sun shines out as precious hot
As ever I did see."
Says Dick, " Messmates, since here we be "— •
And gave his eye a wink —
" We've come to find out Tobac-kee,
Which means a drop to drink."
Says Jack, says he, " The In jins think "
Says Tom, "I'll swear as they
Don't think at all. " Says Dick, " You're right ;
It aint thei^ «at'ral way.
THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO. 21
But I want to find out, niy lads,
This stuff of which they tell ;
For if, as it aint meant to drink,
Why, it must be meant to smell."
Says Tom, says he, " To drink or smell,
I don't think this here's meant."
Says Jack, says he, " Blame my old eyes,
If I'll believe it's scent."
"Well, then," says Dick, " if that aint square,
It must be meant for meat ;
So come along, my jovial mates,
To find what's good to eat."
They came across a great big plant,
A-growing tall and true.
Says Jack, says he, "I'm precious dry,"
And picked a leaf to chew.
While Tom takes up a sun-dried bit.
A-lying by the trees ;
He rubs it in his hands to dust
And then begins to sneeze.
Another leaf picks nimble Dick,
And dries it in the sun,
And rolls it up all neat and tight.
" My lads," said he in fun,
"I mean to cook this precious weed."
And then from out his poke
With burning-glass he lights the end,
And quick blows up the smoke.
Says Jack, says he, " Of Paradise
I've heerd some people tell,"
22 THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.
Says Tom, says he, "This here will do;
Let's have another smell."
Says Dick, his face all pleasant smiles,
A-looking through a cloud,
"It strikes me here's the Cap'n bold,
And now we'll all be rowed."
Up comes brave Hawkins on the beach ;
" Shiver my hull ! " he cries,
" What's these here games, my merrj^ men?''
And then, " Why, blame my eyes !
Here's one as chaws, and one as snuffs,
And t'other of the three
Is smoking like a chimbley-pot —
They've found out Tobac-kee! "
So if ever you should hear
Of Raleigh and them lies
About his sarvant and his pipe
And him as "Fire ! " cries,
You say as 'twas three sailors bold
As sailed to Virgin-ee
In brave old Hawkins1 gallant ship
Who found out Tobac-kee.
—Cigar and Tobacco World* London-
A FEW WORDS ABOUT TOBACCO. 23
A FEW WORDS ABOUT
TOBACCO.
ALTHOUGH Jean Nicot, a French am-
bassador to Portugal, is credited with
the greatest service in, giving tobacco its
official recognition, it was really first
introduced into Europe in 1558 by Fran-
cisco Fernandes, a physician who had
been sent by Philip II. of Spain to inves-
tigate the products of Mexico.
Nicot, however, on his return to
France in about 1560, carried it to
Catherine de Medici, the Queen ; and the
reception it met with from her and other
titled personages gave it reputation and
popularity.
From Nicot and the Queen were derived
the titles, " Queen's Heat " (Nicotiana),
and subsequently to one of its prepa-
rations, " The Powder of the Queen."
Lofty example and the sanction of high
life gave currency to any custom ; hence
tobacco became generally used.
24 THE ORIGIN OF TOBACCO.
The French give Sir Francis Drake
the credit of carrying it to England, and
there is no doubt but what Sir Walter
and Sir Francis succeeded in making
tobacco a fashionable luxury. From
there it spread. Every lover of the plant
can easily imagine the rest.
THE ORIGIN OF TOBACCO.
THE Prophet was taking a stroll in the
country when he saw a serpent, stiff with
cold, lying on the ground. He compas-
sionately took it up and warmed it in
his bosom. When the serpent had re-
covered, it said :
"Divine Prophet, listen. I am now
going to bite thee."
" Why, pray ? " inquired Mahomet.
"Because thy race persecutest mine
and tries to stamp it out."
" But does not thy race, too, make
perpetual war against mine?" was the
Prophet's rejoinder. "How canst thou,
THE ORIGIN OF TOBACCO. 25
besides, be so ungrateful, and so soon
forget that I saved thy life ? "
" There is no such thing as gratitude
upon this earth," replied the serpent,
" and if I were now to spare thee, either
thou or another of thy race would kill
me. By Allah, I shall bite thee ! "
" If thou hast sworn by Allah, I will
not cause thee to break thy vow," said
the Prophet, holding his hand to the
serpent's mouth. The serpent bit him,
but he sucked the wound with his lips
and spat the venom on the ground. And
on that very spot there sprung up a plant
which combines within -itself the venom
of the serpent and the compassion of the
Prophet. Men call this plant by the
name of tobacco. — Conte Arabe.
CLOUDS.
MORTALS say their hearts are light
When the clouds around disperse ;
Clouds to gather thick as night,
Is the smoker's universe.
—From the German of Bauernfeld.
26 THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING.
THE SMOKING PHILOSOPHER
His whole amusement was his
pipe ; and, as there is a certain in-
definable link between smoking and
philosophy, my father, by dint of
smoking-, had become a philoso-
pher. It is no less strange than true that
we can puff away our cares with tobacco,
when without it they remain an oppres-
sive burthen to existence. There is
no composing draught like the draught
through the tube of a pipe. The savage
warriors of North America enjoyed the
blessing before we did ; and to the pipe
is to be ascribed the wisdom of their
councils, and the laconic delivery of their
sentiments. It would be well introduced
into our own legislative assembly. Ladies,
indeed, would no longer peep down
through the ventilator ; but we should
have more sense and fewer words. It is
also to tobacco that is to be ascribed
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING. 27
the stoical firmness of those American
warriors who, satisfied with the pipe in
their mouths, submitted with perfect in-
difference to the torture of their enemies.
From the virtues of this weed arose that
peculiar expression when you irritate an-
other, that you " put his pipe out."
— Marry at' s "Jacob Faithful'*
WITH PIPE AND BOOK.
WITH Pipe and Book at close of day,
Oh, what is sweeter, mortal, say ?
It matters not what book on knee,
Old Izaak or the Odyssey,
It matters not meerschaum or clay.
And though one's eyes will dream astray,
And lips forget to sue or sway,
It is " enough to merely be "
With Pipe and Book.
What though our modern skies be gray,
As bards aver, I will not pray
For " soothing Death " to succor me,
But ask this much, O Fate, of thee,
A little longer yet to stay
With Pipe and BooV,
—RICHARD LE GALLIENN&
28 THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING.
CARLYLE ON TOBACCO.
"TOBACCO smoke," says Carlyle, "is
the one element in which, by our Euro-
pean manners, men can sit silent together
without embarrassment, and where no
man is bound to speak one word more
than he has actually and veritably got to
say. Nay, rather every man is admon-
ished and enjoined by the laws of honor,
and even of personal ease, to stop short
of that point ; and at all events to hold
his peace and take to his pipe again the
instant he has spoken his meaning, if he
chance to have any. The results of which
salutary practice, if introduced into con-
stitutional parliaments, might evidently
be incalculable. The essence of what
little intellect and insight there is in that
room — we shall or can get nothing more
out of any parliament ; and sedative,
gently soothing, gently clarifying, tobacco
smoke (if the room were well ventilated,
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING. 2Q
open atop, and the air kept good), with
the obligation to a minimum of speech,
surely gives human intellect and insight
the best chance they can have."
IN FAVOR OF TOBACCO.
MUCH victuals serves for gluttony
To fatten men like swine ;
But he's a frugal man indeed
That with a leaf can dine,
And needs no napkin for his hands,
His fingers' ends to wipe,
But keeps his kitchen in a box,
And roast meat in a pipe.
—SAMUEL ROWLANDS.
Knave of Clubs (i6uX
A PIPE OF TOBACCQ
LITTLE tube of mighty power,
Charmer of an idle hour,
Object of my warm desire,
Lip of wax, and eye of fire :
And thy snowy taper waist,
With my finger gently braced;
And thy pretty swelling crest,
With niy little stopper press'd,
And the sweetest bliss of blisses,
Breathing from thy balmy kisses.
3O THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING.
Happy thrice, and thrice agen,
Happiest he of happy men,
Who when agen the night returns,
When agen the taper burns ;
When agen the cricket's gay
(Little cricket full of play),
Can afford his tube to feed
With the fragrant Indian weed f
Pleasure for a nose divine,
Incense of the god of wine.
Happy thrice, and thrice agen
Happiest he of happy men.
—ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE (1736).
BULWER-LYTTON ON
TOBACCO SMOKING.
HE who doth not smoke hath either
known no great griefs, or refuseth himself
the softest consolation, next to that which
comes from heaven. " What softer than
a woman ? " whispers the young reader.
Young reader, woman teases as well as
consoles. Woman makes half the sorrows
which she boasts the privilege to soothe.
Woman consoles us, it is true, while
we are young and handsome; when we
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING. 31
are old and ugly, woman snubs and
scolds us.
On the whole, then, woman in this
scale, the weed in that. Jupiter ! hang
out thy balance, and weigh them both;
and if thou give the preference to woman,
all I can say is, the next time Juno ruffles
thee, O Jupiter ! try the weed.—" What
Will He Do with It?"
INVOCATION TO TOBACCO.
WEED of the strange flower, weed of the earth.
Killer of dullness, parent of mirth.
Come in the sad hour, come in the gay,
Appear in the night, or in the day, —
Still thou art welcome as June's blooming rose,
Joy of the palate, delight of the nose !
Weed of the green leld, weed of the wild,
Fostered in freedom, America's child,
Come in Virginia, come in Havana ;
Friend of the universe, sweeter than manna —
Still thou art welcome, rich, fragrant, and ripe.
Pride of the tube-case, delight of the pipe 1
Weed of the savage, weed of each pole,
Comforting, soothing philosophy's soul,
32 THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING.
Come in the snuff-box, come in cigar,
In Strasburgh and Kings', come from afar,— »
Still thou art welcome, the purest, the best,
Joy of earth's millions, forever caresst !
—HENRY JAMES MELLEN.
THE HAPPY SMOKER.
WHEN I am " broke," I take a smoke-
Comfort is my aim —
Likewise when "flush"— or maybe "lush,"
I gently nurse the flame.
The wreaths of smoke that round me roll,
Prom " Garcia " or from carven bowl,
Drive care away
And make the day —
If dark, all bright ; if bright, then more
Of joy is added to my store.
And so I puff, morn, noon, and night,
The gods be thanked for this sweet " light. *
— E. BONFILS.
SAM SLICK ON THE VIRTUES
OF A PIPE.
"THE fact is, squire, the moment a
man takes to a pipe, he becomes a phi-
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING. 33
losopher. It's the poor man's friend ; it
calms the mind, soothes the temper, and
makes a man patient under difficulties.
It has made more good men, good hus-
bands, kind masters, indulgent fathers,
than any other blessed thing on this
universal earth."
— " Sam Slick, the Clockmaker"
OPINION OF ST. PIERRE ON
THE EFFECT OF TOBACCO.
THE author of " Paul and Virginia "
remarks : " It is true that tobacco in some
measure augments our power of judg-
ment by exciting the nerves of the brain.
This plant is, however, a veritable poison,
and in the long run affects the sense of
smell and sometimes the nerves of the
eye. But man is always ready to impair
his physical constitution provided he can
strengthen his 'intellectual sentiment'
thereby."
34 THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING.
SMOKE DREAMS.
TOBACCO smoke ! Blue-gray in wreaths, —
Blue laurel-wreaths which float in air,
As if, invisible, serene,
A dreaming angel hovered there.
A spirit of calm kindliness, —
A touch of eyes that smile through tears,-
A mantle of forgetfulness,
Thrown on the passions of the years.
I cross my knees, 1 puff my pipe,
The gentle Summer warmth creeps in ;
The Summer warmth 'mid Winter's snows,-
For indolence shall banish sin, —
And watch the tasseled smoke-drops fall,
And note the fringed smoke-plumes rise,
And see the dreams, in legions, turn
To smoky notnings in the skies.
Tobacco smoke, like silken web,
Suspended fn the restful airs,
To me and mine, in soothing rhymes
A dainty, artless burden bears ;
Let cares rage on — let hopes renew —
The Yesterday, To-morrow be —
But we are wise, the smoke and I ;
We cease regrets and troubles flee.
—A. B. TUCKER-
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SMOKING. 35
GUIZOT.
A LADY, one evening, calling on Guizot,
the historian of France, found him ab-
sorbed in his pipe. In astonishment she
exclaimed : " What ! you smoke and yet
have arrived at so great an age ! " " Ah,
madam," replied the venerable states-
man, " if I had not smoked I should have
been dead ten years ago."
MY PIPE.
WHEN love grows cool, thy fire still warms me ;
When friends are fled, thy presence charms me.
If thou art full, though purse be bare,
I smoke and cast away all care !
—German Smoking Song.
POETRY OF SMOKE.
LATAKIA.
WHEN all the panes are hung wfth frost
Wild wizard-work of silver lace,
I draw my sofa on the rug,
Bef re the ancient chimney-plac>a
Upon th : painted tiles are mosques
And minarets, and here and there
A blind muezzin lifts his hands,
And calls the faithful unto prayer.
Folded in idle, twilight dreams,
I hear the hemlock chirp and sing,
As if within its ruddy core
It held the happy heart of spring.
Ferdousi never sang like that,
Nor Saadi grave, nor Hafiz gay ;
I lounge, and blow white rings of smoke,
And watch them rise and float away.
The curling wreaths like turbans seem
Of silent slaves that come and go—
Or Viziers, packed with craft and crime.
Whom I behead from time to time,
With pipe-stem, at a single blow.
And now and then a lingering cloud
Takes gracious form at my desire,
And at my side my lady stands,
Unwinds her veil with snowy hands —
A shadowy shape, a breath of fire I
Oh, Love ! if you were only here,
Beside me in this mellow light,
POETRY OF SMOKE. 37
Though all the bitter winds should blow,
And all the ways be choked with snow,
'TwouJd be a true Arabian night I
— T. B. ALDRICH.
SUBLIME TOBACCO.
SUBLIME tobacco ! which, from east to west,
Cheers the tar s labor or the Turkman's rest ,
Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides
His hours, and rivals opium and his brides ;
Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,
Though not less loved, in Wapping on the
Strand ;
Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe,
When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and
ripe;
Like other charmers, wooing the caress
More daz/Jingly when daring in full dress/
Yet thy true lovers more admire, by fai\
Thy naked beauties — give me a cigar !
—LORD BYRON,
The Island^ Canto //, Stanza /V
38 POETRY OF SMOKE.
VIRGINIA TOBACCO.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two
Together long had dwelt ;
Neither, alas ! of love so true
The bitter pang had felt.
But age comes on, they say, apace,
To warn us of our death,
And wrinkles mar the fairest face, —
At last it stops our breath.
One of these dames, tormented sore
With that curst pang, toothache,
Was at a loss for such a bore
What remedy to take.
"I've heard," thought she, "this ill to cure,
A pipe is good, they say.
Well, then, tobacco I'll endure,
And smoke the pain away."
The pipe was lit, the tooth soon well.
And she retired to rest,
When then the other ancient belle
Her spinster maid addressed,—
" Let me request a favor, pray "—
•' I'll do it if I can "—
" Oh ! well, then, love, smoke every day,
You smell so like a man / "
—JOHN STANLEY GREGSON.
POETRY OF SMOKE.
39
A GOOD CIGAR.
OH, 'tis well enough
A whiff or a puff
From the heart of a pipe to get ;
And a dainty maid
Or a budding blade
May toy with the cigarette ;
But a man, when the time
Of a glorious prime
Dawns forth like a morning star,
Wants the dark-brown bloom
And the sweet perfume
That go with a good cigar.
To lazily float
In a painted boat
On a shimmering morning sea,
Or to flirt with a maid,
In the afternoon shade,
Seems good enough sport to be }
But the evening hour,
With its subtle power,
Is sweeter and better far,
If joined to the joy,
Devoid of alloy,
That lurks in a good cigar.
When a blanket wet
Is solidly set
O'er hopes prematurely grown ;
40 POETRY OF SMOKE.
When ambition is tame,
And enargy lame,
And the bloom from the fruit is blown-.
When to dance and to dine,
With women and wine,
Past poverty pleasures are, —
A man's not bereft
Of all peace, if there's left
The joy of a good cigar.
— NORRIS BULL.
A POET'S PIPE.
From the French of Charles Baudelaire.
A POET'S pipe am I,
And my Abyssinian tint
Is an unmistakable hint
That he lays me not often by.
When his soul is with grief o'erworn,
I smoke like the cottage where
They are cooking the evening fare
For the laborer's return.
I enfold and cradle his soul
In the vapors moving and blue
That mount from my fiery mouth ;
And there is power in my bowl
To charm his spirit and soothe,
And heal his weariness too.
—RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD.
POETRY OF SMOKE. t
THE HAPPY SMOKING
GROUND.
WHEN that last pipe is smoked at last
' And pouch and pipe put by,
And smoked and smoker both alike
In dust and ashes lie,
What of the smoker ? Whither passed ?
Ah, will he smoke no more ?
And will there be no golden cloud
Upon the golden shore ?
Ah ! who shall say we cry in vain
To fate upon his hill,
For, howsoe'er we ask and ask,
He goes on smoking still.
But, surely, 'twere a bitter thing
If other men pursue
Their various earthly joys again
Beyond that distant blue,
If the poor smoker might not ply
His peaceful passion too.
If Indian braves may still up there
On merry seal pings go,
And buried Britons rise again
With arrow and with bow,
May not the smoker hope to take
His "cutty" from below?
So let us trust ! and when at length
You lay me 'neath the yew,
Forget not, O my friends, I pray,
Pipes and tobacco too !
—RICHARD LE GALLIENNE,
42 POETRY OF SMOKE.
A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO
MAY the Babylonish curse
Straight confound my stammering verua
If I can a passage see
In this word-perplexity,
Or a fit expression find,
Or a language to my mind
(Still the phrase is wide or scant)
To take leave of thee, Great Plant 1
Or in any terms relate
Half my love or half my hate :
For I hate yet love thee so,
That, whichever things I show,
The plain truth will seem to be
A constrain'd hyperbole,
And the passion to proceed
More from a mistress than a weed.
Sooty retainer to the vine
Bacchus' black servant, negro-fine ;
Sorcerer, thou makest us dote upon
Thy begrimed complexion,
And for thy pernicious sake,
More and greater oaths to break
Than reclaimed lovers take
'Gainst women ; thou thy siege dost lay
Much too in the female way,
While thou suck'st the laboring breath
Paster than kisses or than death.
POETRY OF SMOKE. 43
Thou in such a cloud dost bind us
That our worst foes cannot find us,
And ill fortune, that would thwart us,
Shoots at. rovers, shooting at us ;
While each man, through thy height'ning
steam
Does like a smoking Etna seem,
And all about us does express
(Fancy and wit in richest dress)
A Sicilian fruitfulness.
Thou through such a mist dost show us
That our best friends do not know us,
And for those allowed features,
Due to reasonable creatures,
Liken'st us to fell Chimeras-
Monsters that, who see us, fear us ;
Worse than Cerberus or Geryon
Or, who first loved a cloud, Ixion.
Bacchus we know, and we allow
His tipsy rites. But what art thou,
That but by reflex canst show
What his deity can do,
AS the false Egyptian spell
Aped the true Hebrew miracle,
Some few vapors thou may'st raise,
The weak brain may serve to amaze,
But to the reins and nobler heart
Canst not life nor heat impart.
Brother of Bacchus, later born,
The old world was sure forlorn
44 POETRY OF SMOKE.
Wanting thee ; thou aidest more
The god's victories than before
All his panthers and the brawls
Of his piping Bacchanals.
These as stale, we disallow,
Or judge of thee meant : only thou
His true Indian conquest art ;
And, for ivy round his dart,
The reformed god now weaves
A finer thyrsus of thy leaves.
Scent to match thy rich perfume
Through his quaint alembic strain,
None so sovereign to the brain.
Nature that did in thee excel,
Framed again no second smell.
Roses, violets but toys
For the smaller sort of boys,
Or for greener damsels meant;
Thou art the only manly scent.
Stinking'st of the stinking kind,
Filth of the mouth and fogs of the mind ;
Africa, that brags her foison,
Breeds no such prodigious poison,
Henbane, nightshade, both together,
Hemlock, aconite-
Nay, rather,
Plant divine, of rarest virtue ;
Blisters on the tongue would hurt you.
'Twas but in a sort I blamed thee,
None e'er prosper'd who defamed thee :
Irony all and feign'd abuse,
fcuch as perplexed lovers use
POETRY OF SMOKE. 45
At a need when, in despair,
To paint forth their fairest fair,
Or in part but to express
That exceeding comeliness
Which their fancies doth so strike,
They borrow language of dislike,
And, instead of Dearest Miss,
Jewel, Honey, Sweetheart, Bliss,
Call her Cockatrice and Siren,
Basilisk, and all that's evil,
Witch, Hyena, Mermaid, Devil.
Ethiop, Wench, and Blackamoor,
Monkey, Ape, and twenty more :
Friendly Traitress, Loving Foe —
Not that she is truly so,
But no other way they know
A contentment to express,
Borders so upon excess,
That they do not rightly wot
Whether it be pain or not.
Or as men, constrain'd to part
With what's nearest to their heart.
While their sorrow's at the height,
Lose discrimination quite,
And their hasty wrath let fall
To appease their frantic gall,
On the darling thing whatever
Whence they feel it death to sever,
Though it be, as they, perforce,
Guiltless of the sad divorce.
For I must (nor let it grieve thee,
Friendliest of plants, that I must) leave
thee.
POETRY OF SMOKE.
For thy sake, Tobacco, I
Would do anything but die,
And but seek to extend my days
Long enough to sing thy praise.
But as she who once hath been
A king's consort is a queen
Ever after, nor will bate
Any tittle of her state
Though a widow, or divorced,
So I from my converse forced.
The old name and style retain,
A right Katherine of Spain ;
And a seat, too, 'mongst the joys
Of the blest Tobacco Boys ;
Where, though I, by sour physician,
Am debarr'd the full fruition
Of thy favors, I may catch
Some collateral sweets, and snatch
Sidelong odors, that give life
Like glances from a neighbor's wife ;
And still live in the by-places
And the suburbs of thy graces ,
And in thy borders take delight
An unconquer'd Canaanite.
—CHARLES LAMB.
INSCRIPTION FOR A TOBACCO
JAR.
KEEP me at hand ; and as my fumes arise,
You'll find a. jar the gates of Paradise.
— Cope ' s Tobacco Plant.
POETRY OF SMOKE. 47
THE SCENT OF A GOOD
CIGAR.
WHAT is it comes through the deepening
dusk,—
Something sweeter than jasmine scent,
Sweeter than rose and violet blent,
More potent in power than orange or musk ?
The scent of a good cigar.
I am all alone in my quiet room, •
And the windows are open wide and free
To let in the south wind's kiss for me,
While I rock in the softly gathering gloom,
And that subtle fragrance steals.
Just as a loving, tender hand
Will sometimes steal in yours,
It softly comes through the open doors,
And memory wakes at its command, —
The scent of that good cigar.
And what does it say ? Ah ! that's for me
And my heart alone to know ;
But that heart thrills with a sudden glow,
Tears fill my eyes till I cannot see,—
Prom the scent of that good cigar.
— KATE A. CARRINGTON.
48 POETRY OF SMOKE.
IN THE OL' TOBACKER
PATCH.
J JESS kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know
what to do,
When I think about them days we used to
spend
A-hoein' our tobacker in th' clearin'— me an'
you —
An' a-wishin' that the day was at an end.
For the dewdrops was a-sparklin' on the
beeches' tender leaves
As we started out a-workin' in the morn ;
An' th' noonday sun was sendin' down a shower
of burnin' leaves
When we heard the welcome-soundin' dinner-
horn.
An' th' shadders round us gathered in a sort of
ghostly batch,
'Fore we started home from workin' in that
ol' tobacker patch.
I'm a-feelin' mighty lonesome, as I look aroun*
to-day,
For I see th' change that's taken place since
then.
All th' hills is brown and faded, for th' woods
is cleared away,
You an' me has changed from ragged boys
to men ;
POETRY OF SMOKE. 49
You are Hvin' in th' city that we ust to dream
about ;
I am still a-dwellin' here upon the place,
But my form is bent an' feeble, which was once
so straight and stout,
An' there's most a thousand wrinkles on my
face.
You have made a mint of money ; I perhaps
have been your match,
But we both enjoyed life better in that ol'
tobacker patch.
— s. Q. LAPIUS.
MOTTO FOR A TOBACCO JAR.
COME ! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid,
But woo the goddess through a yard of clay ;
And soon vou'll own she is the fairest maid
To stifle pain, and drive old Care away.
Nor deem it waste, what though to ash she
burns,
If for your outlay you get good returns!
A STUB OF CIGAR.
You ask what it means, and a look of scorn
Mars your fair face, dear Lady Disdain ;
But to me it recalls a bright summer morn
When cherries were red down a long country
lane!
JO POETRY OF SMOKE.
I close my eyes, and a. rustle of wheat
Comes borne on a. breeze whose breath is a
balm;
A breeze heavy with sweet clover-bloom at my
feet,
. Which brings to my spirit an infinite calm.
And once more I see, though my eyes are
closed fast,
A face kindly tender, and manly, and true —
A friendship once vowed that was given to
last,
And eyes that reflected the heaven's own
blue.
As two sailing ships in mid-ocean meet.
Salute, and pass on to far distant lands,
We met, to find only friendship was sweet,
When we were compelled to clasp parting
hands.
And the voice of that comrade who strolled by
my side
Comes again to my ear, thro' days vanished
afar,
And that's why I cherish it, almost with pride,
This poor, little, wasted, sad stub of cigar !
— VOLNEY STREAMER.
July .,1889.
POETRY OF SMOKE. 5!
THE PIPE YOU MAKE YOUR-
SELF.
THERE'S clay pipes an' briar pipes and meer-
schaum pipes as well ;
There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes— things jest
made to sell ;
But any pipe that can be bought fer marbles,
chalk, or pelf,
Aint ekal to the flaver of the pipe you make
yourself.
Jest take a common corn cob an* whittle out
the middle,
Then plug up one end of it as tight as any
fiddle ;
Fit a stem into th' side an' lay her on th' shelf,
An' when she's dry you take her down— that
pipe you made yourself.
Cram her full clar to th' brim with nachral
leaf, you bet —
'Twill smoke a trifle better for bein' somewhat
wet —
Take your worms and fishin' pole, and a jug
along for health ;
An' you'll get a taste o' heaven from that pipe
you made yourself.
—HENRY E. BROWN.
POETRY OF SMOKE.
SMOKING AWAY.
FLOATING away like the fountain's spray,
Or the snow-white plume of a maiden,
The smoke-wreaths rise to the starlit skies
With blissful fragrance laden.
Chorus.— Then smoke away till a golden ray
Lights up the dawn of the morrow,
For a cheerful cigar, like a shield, will
bar,
The blows of care and sorrow.
The leaf burns bright like the gems of night
That flash in the braids of Beauty ;
It nerves each heart for the hero's part
On the battle plain of duty.
In the thoughtful gloom of his darkened room,
Sits the child of song and story,
But his heart is light, for his pipe burns bright,
And his dreams are all of glory.
By, the blazing fire sits the gray -haired sire,
And infant arms surround him ;
And he smiles on all in that quaint old hall,
While the smoke-curls float around him.
In the forest grand of our native land,
When the savage conflict ended,
The " Pipe of Peace " brought a sweet release
From toil and terror blended.
POETRY OF SMOKE. 53
The dark-eyed train of the maids of Spain,
Neath their arbor shades trip lightly,
And a gleaming cigar, like a newborn star,
In the clasp of their lips burns brightly.
It warms the soul, like the blushing bowl,
With its rose-red burden streaming,
And drowns it in bliss, like the first warm kiss,
From the lips with love-buds teaming.
—FRANCIS MILES FINCH.
TOBACCO.
THE Indian weed, withered quite,
Green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay ; all flesh is hay.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.
The pipe that is so lily-white
Shows thee to be a mortal wight ;
And even such, gone with a touch.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.
And when the smoke ascends on high,
Thinke thou beholdst the vanity
Of worldly stuffe, gone with a puffe.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.
And when the pipe grows foul within.
Think on thy soule defil'd with sin,
And then the fire it doth require.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.
54 POETRY OF SMOKE.
The ashes that are left behind
May serve to put thee still in mind,
That unto dust return thou must.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.
—GEORGE WITHER, i6«x
A MAIDEN'S WISH.
THE following is derived from a New
York paper : "A thoughtful girl says
that when she dies she desires to have
tobacco planted over her grave, that the
weed nourished by her dust may be
chewed by her bereaved lovers." Stein-
metz has suggested the lines given below
as a suitable epitaph for this tobacco-
loving maiden :
" Let no cold marble o'er my body rise,
But only earth above and sunny skies.
Thus would I lowly lie in peaceful rest,
Nursing the Herb Divine, from out my breast.
Green let it grow above this clay of mine,
Deriving strength from strength that I resign.
So in the days to come, when I'm beyond
This fickle life, will come my lovers fond,
And, gazing on the plant, their grief restrain
In whispering, ' Lo ! dear Anna blooms againl* *
POETRY OF SMOKE. 55
MY CIGARETTE.
MY CIGARETTE ! The amulet
That charms afar unrest and sorrow,
The magic wand that, far beyond
To-day, can conjure up to-morrow.
Like love's desire, thy crown of fire
So softly with the twilight blending ;
And ah ! meseems a poet's dreams
Are in thy wreaths of smoke ascending.
My cigarette ! Can I forget
How Kate and I, in sunny weather,
Sat in the shade the elm-tree made
And rolled the fragrant weed together?
I at her side, beatified,
To hold and guide her fingers willing ;
She rolling slow the paper's snow,
Putting my heart in with the filling.
My cigarette ! I see her yet,
The white smoke from her red lips curling
Her dreaming eyes, her soft replies,
Her gentle sighs, her laughter purling i
Ah, dainty roll, whose parting soul
Ebbs out in many a snowy billow ;
I, too, would burn, if I could earn
Upon her lips, so soft a pillow.
Ah, cigarette ! The gay coquette
Has long forgot the flame she lighted;
56 POETRY OF SMOKE.
And you, as I, unthinking by,
Alike are thrown, alike are slighted.
The darkness gathers fast without,
A raindrop on my window plashes ;
My cigarette and heart are out,
And naught is left me but the ashes.
—CHARLES F. LUMMP
THOSE ASHES.
UP to the frescoed ceiling
The smoke of my cigarette
In a sinuous spray is reeling,
Forming flower and minaret.
What delicious landscape floating
On perfumed wings I see ;
Pale swans I am idly noting,
And queens robed in filigree.
I see such delicious faces
As ne'er man saw before,
And my fancy fondly chases
Sweet maids on a fairy shore.
Now to bits my air-castle crashes,
And those pictures I see no more;
My grandmother yells : " Them ashes
Don't drop them on the floor ! "
— R. K. MUNKITTRXCK-
POETRY OF SMOKE. 57
HOW IT ONCE WAS.
RIGHT stout and strong the worthy burghers
stood,
Or rather, sat,
Drank beer in plenty, ate abundant food ;
For they to ancient customs still were true,
And smoked, and smoked, because they surely
knew
What they were at,
William the Testy ruled New Amsterdam—
A tall man he —
Whose rule was meant by him to be no sham,
But rather like the stern parental style
That sways the city now. He made the while
A rough decree.
He ordered that the pipes should cease to
smoke,
From that day on.
The people took the order as a joke ;
They did not think, who smoked from child-
hood up,
That one man such delight would seek to stop,
Even in fun.
But when at last it dawned upon their minds
That this was meant,
They closed their houses, shut their window*
blinds.
58 POETRY OF SMOKE.
Brought forth tobacco from their ample hoard,
And to the governor's house with one accord
The Burghers went.
They carried chairs, and sat without a word
Bef re his porch,
And smoked, and smoked, and not a sound was
heard,
Till Kieft came forth to take the morning air,
With speech that would have burned them
then and there,
If words could scorch.
But they, however savagely he spoke,
Made no reply.
Higher and thicker rose the clouds of smoke,
And Kieft, perceiving that they would be free,
Tried not to put in force his harsh decree ;
But let it die.
— New York Sun.
POETRY OF SMOKE. 59
BEER.
[By George Arnold, New Yorb^ 1862.}
HERE,
With my beer,
I sit,
While golden moments flit.
Alas!
They pass
Unheeded by »
And as they fly, I,
Being dry,
Sit, idly sipping here
My beer!
Oh, finer far
Than fame or riches are
The graceful smoke wreaths of this free cigar.
Why
Should I
Weep, wail, or sigh ?
What if Luck has passed me by?
What if my hopes are dead,
My pleasures fled ;
Have I not still
My fill
Of right good cheer-
Cigars and beer?
Go, whining youth.
Forsooth !
Go, weep and wafl.
Sigh and grow pale,
60 POETRY OF SMOKE.
Weave melancholy rhymes
On the old times,
Whose joys, like shadowy ghosts, appear:
But leave to me my beer !
Gold is dross,
Love is loss,
So, if I gulp my sorrows down,
Or see them drown
In foamy draughts of old nut-brown,
Then do I wear the crown,
Without the cross !
SIR WALTER RALEiorf f name of worth,
How sweet for thee to know
King James, who never smoked on earth,
Is smoking down below.
ON A TOBACCO JAR.
THREE hundred years ago or soe,
One worthy knight and gentlemanne
Did bring me here, to charm and chere,
To physical and mental manne.
God bless his soule who filled ye bowle,
And may our blessings find him !
That he not miss some share of blisse
Who left soe much behind him.
—BERNARD BARKER*
POETRY OF SMOKE. 6l
'TWAS OFF THE BLUE
CANARIES.
'TWAS off the blue Canary Isles,
A glorious summer day,
I sat upon the quarter-deck,
And whiffed my cares away ;
And as the volumed smoke arose,
Like incense in the air,
I breathed a sigh to think, in sooth,
It was my last cigar.
I leaned upon the quarter rail,
Aud looked down in the sea ;
E'en there the purple wreath of smoke
Was curling gracefully ;
Oh ! what had I at such a time
To do with wasting care ?
Alas I the trembling tear proclaimed
It was my last cigar.
I watched the ashes as it came
Fast drawing to an end ;
I watched it as a friend would watch
Beside a dying friend ;
But still the flame swept slowly on ;
It vanished into air ;
I threw it from me, — spare the tale,—
It was my last cigar.
62 POETRY OF SMOKE.
I've seen the land of all I love
Fade in the distance dim ;
I've watched above the blighted heart.
Where once proud hope had been ;
But I've never known a sorrow
That could with that compare,
When off the blue Canaries
I smoked my last cigar.
—JOSEPH WARREN FABENS.
IN WREATHS OF SMOKE.
IN wreaths of smoke, blown way wardwise,
Faces of olden days uprise,
And in his dreamer's reverie
They haunt the smoker's brain, and he
Breathes for the past regretful sighs.
Mem'ries of maids, with azure eyes,
In dewy dells, 'neath June's soft skies,
Faces that more he'll only see
In wreaths of smoke.
Eheu, eheu ! how fast time flies, —
How youth-time passion droops and dies,
And all the countless visions flee !
How worn would all those faces be,
Were not they swathed in soft disguise
In wreaths of smoke !
—FRANK NEWTON HOLMAN.
POETRY OF SMOKE. 63
THE OLD CLAY PIPE.
THERE'S a lot of solid comfort
In an old clay pipe, I find,
If you're kind of out of humor
Or in trouble in your mind.
When you're feeling awful lonesome
And don't know just what to do,
There's a heap of satisfaction
If you smoke a pipe or two.
The ten thousand pleasant memories
That are buried in your soul
Are playing hide and seek with you
Around that smoking bowl.
These are mighty restful moments ;
You're at peace with all the world,
And the panorama changes
As the thin blue smoke is curled.
Now you cross the bridge of sorrows,
Now you enter pleasant lands,
And before an open doorway
You will linger to shake hands
With a lithe and girlish figure
That is coming through the door {
Ah ! you recognize the features :
You have seen that face before.
Vou are at the dear old homestead
Where you spent those happy years ;
POETRY OF SMOKE.
You are romping with the children ;
You are smiling through your tears ;
You have fought and whipped the bully—
You are eight and he is ten.
Oh ! how rapidly we travel—
You are now a boy again.
You approach the open doorway,
And before the old armchair
You will stop and kiss the grandma,
You will smooth the thin white hair j
You will read the open Bible,
For the lamp is lit, you see.
It is now your hour for bedtime
And you kneel at mother's knee.
Still you linger at the hearthstone ;
You are loath to leave the place ;
When an apple cut's in progress
You must wait and dance with Grace.
What's the matter with the music ?
Only this : the pipe is brokev
And a thousand pleasant fancies
Vanish promptly with the smoke.
—A. B. VAN FLEET.
KNICKERBOCKER.
SHADE of Herrick, Muse of Locker,
Help me sing of Knickerbocker !
Boughton, had you bid me chant
Hymns to Peter Stuy vesant.
POETRY OF SMOKK.
Had you bid me sing of Wouter,
He, the onion head, the doubter !
But to rhyme of this one — Mocker!
Who shall rhyme to Knickerbocker?
Nay, but where my hand must fail,
There the more shall yours avail ;
You shall take your brush and paint
All that ring of figures quaint,—
All those Rip Van Winkle jokers,
All those solid-looking smokers,
Pulling at their pipes of amber,
In the dark-beamed Council Chamber
Only art like yours can touch
Shapes so dignified— and Dutch ;
Only art like yours can show
How the pine logs gleam and glow,
'Till the firelight laughs and passes
'Twixt the tankards and the glasses,
Touching with responsive graces
All those grave Batavian faces,
Making bland and beatific
All that session soporific.
Then I come and write beneath :
Boughton, he deserves the wreath ;
He can give us form and hue —
This the Muse can never do !
—AUSTIN DOBSON,
66 POETRY OF SMOKE.
ODE TO TOBACCO.
THOU who, when fears attack,
Bidst them avaunt, and black
Care, at the horseman's back
Perching unseatest ;
Sweet, when the morn is gray ;
Sweet, when they've cleared away
Lunch, at the close of day,
Possibly sweetest :
I have a liking old
For thee, though manifold
Stories, I know, are told.
Not to thy credit ;
How one (or two at most)
Drops make a cat a ghost-
Useless, except to roast-
Doctors have said it :
How they who use fusees
All grow by slow degrees
Brainless as chimpanzees.
Meager as lizards,
Go mad and beat their wives J
Plunge (after shocking lives)
Razors and carving knives
Into their gizzards :
POETRY OF SMOKE.
Confound such knavish tricks !
Yet know I five or six
Smokers who freely mix
Still with their neighbors •
Jones (who I'm glad to say,
Asked leave of Mrs. J.)
Daily absorbs a clay
After his labors':
Cats may have had their goose
Cooked by tobacco juice ;
Still why deny its use
Thoughtfully taken?
We're not as tabbies are :
Smith, take a fresh cigar !
Jones, the tobacco jar !
Here's to theet Bacon !
— C. s. CALVERLEY,
MY FRIENDLY PIPE.
LET sybarites still dream delights
While smoking cigarettes,
Whose opiates get in their pates,
Till waking brings regrets ;
Oh, let them cloze, devoid of woes
Of troubles, and of frets.
And let the chap who loves to nap
V, ith his cigar in hand
68 POETRY OF SMOKE.
Pursue his way, and live his day,
As runs Time's changing sand ;
Let him delight, by day and night,
In his peculiar brand.
But as for me, I love to be
Provided with a pipe ;
A rare eld bowl, to warm my soul,
A meerschaum, brown and ripe —
Not good plug cut, no stump or butt,
Nor filthy gutter snipe.
My joys increase ! It brings me peace,
As nothing else can do ;
From all the strife of daily life,
Here my relief is true.
I watch its rings ; it purrs and sings —
And, then, it's cheaper, too !
—Detroit Tribune.
CHOOSING A WIFE BY A PIPE
OF TOBACCO.
TUBE, I love thee as my life ;
By thee I mean to choose a wife.
Tube, thy color let me find,
In her skin, and in her mind.
Let her have a shape as fine ;
Let her breath be sweet as ti ;ne ;
Let her, when her lips I kiss,
Burn like thee, to give me bliss ;
POETRY OF SMOKE. &
Let her in some smoke or other.
All my failings kindly smother.
Often when my thoughts are low,
Send them where they ought to go ;
When to study I incline,
Let her aid be such as thine ;
Such as thine the charming power
In the vacant social hour.
Let her live to give delight,
Ever warm and ever bright ;
Let her deeds, whene'er she dies,
Mount as incense to the skies.
— Gentleman's Magazine.
A BACHELOR'S SOLILOQUYc
MY oldest pipe, my dearest girl,
Alas ! which shall it be ?
For she has said that I must choose
Betwixt herself and thee.
Farewell, old pipe ; for many years
You've been my closest friend,
And ever ready at my side
Thy solace sweet to lend.
No more from out thy weedy bowl.
When fades the twilight's glow,
Will visions fair and sweet arise
Or fragrant fancies flow.
No more by flick'ring candlelight
Thy spirit I'll invoke.
7O POETRY OF SMOKE.
To build my castle? in the air
With wreaths of wav'ring smoke.
And so farewell, a long farewell —
Until the wedding's o'er,
And then I'll go on smoking thee,
Just as I did before.
—EDMUND DAY,
In the Dramatic Mirror.
I LIKE cigars
Beneath the stars,
Upon the waters blue.
To laugh and float
While rocks the boat
Upon the waves — don't you t
To rest the oar
And float to shore, —
While soft the moonbeams shine,—
To laugh and joke
And idly smoke,
I think is quite divine.
—ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
&MOKERS' STORIES. >ji
BISMARCK'S LAST CIGAR.
GRANT and Bismarck, the one
the European, and the other the
American "man of blood and
iron," were equally famous for their
devotion to a good cigar. No cari-
caturist who drew Grant without
a cigar in his mouth could hope to rise
in his profession. Bismarck once told
a group of visitors the following story :
44 The value of a good cigar," said he,
proceeding to light an excellent Havana,
"is best understood when it is the last
you possess, and there is no chance of
getting another. At Koniggratz I had
only one cigar left in my pocket, which I
carefully guarded daring the whole of the
battle, as a miser guards his treasure. I
did not feel justified in using it. I painted
in glowing colors in my mind the happy
hour when I should enjoy it after the
victory. But I had miscalculated my
72 SMOKERS' STORIES.
chances. A poor dragoon lay helpless,
with both arms crushed, murmuring for
something to refresh him. I felt in my
pockets, and found that? I had only gold,
which would be of no use to him. But
stay — I had still my treasured cigar ! I
lighted it for him, and placed it between
his teeth. You should have seen the
poor fellow's grateful smile! I never
enjoyed a cigar so much as that one
which I did not smoke."
THE USES OF CIGAR ASH.
ClGAR ashes, mingled with cam-
phorated chalk, make an excellent tooth-
powder; or, ground with poppy-oil, will
afford for the use of the painter a varied
series of delicate grays. Old Isaac Ostade
so utilized the ashes of his pipe, but had
he been aware of Havanas, he would
have given us pictures even more pearly
in tone than those which he has left for
the astonishment and delight of mankind.
SMOKERS' STORIES. 73
JULES SANDEAU ON THE
CIGAR.
THE cigar is one of the greatest
triumphs of the Old World over the New.
It would be curious to trace the origin of
the cigar, to watch its gradual develop-
ment, and to observe its rapid growth and
wide distribution. We might study, too,
all the transformations it has undergone
in passing from the homely lips of the com-
monalty to the rose-colored lips of our
dandies. Indeed, its history would not
be wholly devoid of interest, for no epoch,
perhaps, can show an example of fortune
so rapid as that of the cigar. The cigar
is ubiquitous ; it is the indispensable com-
plement of all idle and elegant life ; the
man who does not smoke cannot be re-
garded as perfect. The cigar of to-day
has taken the place of the little romances,
coffee, and verses of the seventeenth cen-
tury. I am not talking of the primitive
cigar, whose poisonous odor and acrid
74 SMOKERS' STORIES.
and repulsive flavor reached one's mar-
tyred lips through the tube of a straw.
Civilization has truly altered such early
simplicity. Spain, Turkey, and Havana
have yielded up to us the most precious
treasures of their smoke-enwrapt dream-
land ! and our lips can now filter the per-
fumed vapor of odoriferous leaves which
have crossed the sea at our summons.
Do not ask me to describe the charms of
the reverie, or the contemplative ecstasy
into which the srnoke of our cigar
plunges us. Words are powerless to ex-
press or define these " states "; they are
vague and mysterious, as unseizable as
the sweetly scented clouds which are-
emitted from your " Mexico " or your
" Panatella." Only let me tell you that
if you have ever found yourself extended
upon a divan with soft and downy
cushions, on some winter's evening, be-
fore a clear and sparkling fire, enveloping
the globe of your lamp or the white light
of your wax-candle with the smoke of a
SMOKERS' STORIES. 75
well-seasoned cigar, letting your thoughts
ascend as uncertain and vaporous as the
smoke floating around you, let me tell
you, I repeat, that if you have never yet
enjoyed the situation, you still have to
be initiated into one of the sweetest of
our terrestrial joys. Casanovia, the im-
modest Venetian who wrote his own
memoirs, so that no one should be able
to discover any eccentricities he had not
committed, pretends that the smoker's
sole pleasure consists in seeing the smoke
escape from his lips. I think, O
Venetian ! that you have touched a false
note here. The smoke of the cigar pro-
duces the same effect as opium, in that
it leads to a state of febrile exaltation, a
perennial source of new pleasures. The
cigar deadens sorrow, distracts our en-
forced inactivity, renders idleness sweet
and easy to us, and peoples our solitude
with a thousand gracious images. Soli-
tude without friend or cigar is indeed in-
supportable to those who suffer. . ,
76 SMOKERS' STORIES.
TENNYSON AS A SMOKER.
THE Poet Laureate was a great smoker.
He never, with Charles Lamb, praised
"Bacchus' black servant, negro fine,"
nor with Byron hymned the delights of
" sublime Tobacco " ; but he dearly loved
the weed for all that. Poet and dweller
in the empyrean though he was, he knew
nothing of Mr. Ruskin's scorn for those
who " pollute the pure air of the morning
with cigar smoke." But he did not affect
the Havana in any of its varied forms.
His joy was in a pipe of genuine Virginia
tobacco. A brother poet, who spent a
week with him at his country-seat, says
that Partagas, Regalias, and Cabanas had
no charm for him.
He preferred a pipe, and of all the pipes
in the world the common clay pipe was
his choice. His den was at the top of
the house. Thither he repaired after
breakfast, and in the midst of a sea of
SMOKERS' STORIES. 77
booKS on the shelves, tables, chairs, and
floor, toiled away until he was fatigued.
These hours of labor were as absolutely
sacred as were Richter's. No human
being, unless upon an errand of life or
death, was allowed to intrude upon him
then ; but when his morning's work was
done, he was glad to see his friends— sent
for them, indeed, or announced by a little
bell his readiness to receive them. As
soon as they entered, pipes were lighted.
Of these pipes he had a great store,
mostly presents from admirers and friends.
The visitor had his choice, be it a
hookah, narghile, meerschaum, or dhu-
deen. Tennyson was familiar with all
grades of smoking tobacco, and the guest
could select at will Latakia, Connecticut
leaf, Perique, Lone Jack, Michigan, Killi-
kinick, Highlander, or any of the English
brands. The poet himself followed the
good old plan of his forefathers, from
Raleigh downward. At his feet were a
box full of white clay pipes. Filling one of
78 SMOKERS' STORIES.
these, he would smoke until it was empty,
break it in twain, and throw the fragments
into another box prepared for their recep-
tion. Then he pulled another pipe from
its straw or wooden inclosure, filled it,
lighted it, and destroyed it as before. He
would not smoke a pipe a second time.
Meanwhile, high discourse went on, inter-
rupted not seldom by the poet's reading
select passages from the manuscript which
was as yet scarcely dry. So the hours were
whiled delightfully away until it was time
to stroll on the cliffs or dress for dinner.
TOBACCO IN NORTH
AMERICA.
MR. FAIRHOLT gives the following
version of the Indian tradition as to its
first appearance in North America : " A
Swedish minister who took occasion to
inform the chiefs of the Susquehanna
Indians, in a kind of sermon, of the prin-
cipal historical facts on which the Chris-
SMOKERS' STORIES. 79
tian religion is founded, and particularly
the fall of our first parents, was thus
answered by an old Indian orator: 'What
you have told us is very good ; we thank
you for coming so far to tell us those
things you have heard from your mothers ;
in return we will tell you what we have
heard from ours. In the beginning we
had only flesh of animals to eat ; and if
they failed, we starved. Two of our
hunters having killed a deer and broiled
a part of it, saw a young woman descend
from the clouds, and seat herself on a
hill hard by. Said one to the other : " It
is a spirit, perhaps, that has smelt our
venison ; let us offer some of it to her."
They accordingly gave her the tongue.
She was pleased with its flavor and said :
" Your kindness shall be rewarded ; come
here thirteen moons hence, and you shall
find it." They did so, and found maize
growing; where her left hand had been,
kidney beans; and where she had sat
they found tobacco? "
8o SMOKERS' STORIES.
We are told that the Indians were
so constant in their devotion to the pipe
that they used it as Europeans use a
watch, and in reckoning the time any-
thing occupied would say: "I was one
pipe (of time) about it." When circum-
stances have prevented him from pro-
curing an ordinary pipe, the Indian has
been known to dig a small hole in the
ground, light his tobacco in it, and draw
the smoke through a reed. If they fall
short of provisions when on a long jour-
ney, they mix the juice of tobacco with
powdered shells, in the form of little balls,
which they keep in their mouths, and the
gradual solution of which serves to coun-
teract the uneasy craving of the stomach.
SMOKERS' STORIES. 81
SHAKESPEARE AND TOBACCO.
IT is a curious fact that no allusion to
" divine Tobacco," as Spenser calls it, is
to be found in the works of Shakespeare,
though Ben Jonson and his contem-
poraries indulge in jests at the expense
of the lately imported weed, which was
smoked under the very noses of the
players by the gilded youth of the period,
who were wont to take up their positions
upon the stage where stools were placed
for them, ahd smoke incessantly during
the whole performance.
Shakespeare being the favorite play-
wright of James I., whose hatred of smok-
ing is well known, it is not surprising that
he failed to notice it favorably in the days
of that monarch ; but that the companion
of Raleigh and Bacon at the " Mermaid "
should have nothing to say upon the sub-
ject is an enigma which some future Shake-
spearean scholar may perhaps unravel.
82 SMOKERS' STORIES.
WHAT "TOBACCO" MEANS.
I MUST beg leave to dissent from some-
body who has written very unfavorably
of smoking tobacco as bad for the lungs,
etc. If he means to say that the frequent
practice of smoking* and such a1 habit of
doing it as that a man cannot be happy
without it, is a prejudicial thing, I agree
with him. Tobacco smoke is a stimulant,
and therefore the frequent and immoder-
ate use of it must tend to weaken the con-
stitution in the same way, though in a
much smaller degree, that dram-drinking
or anything else that excites the nervous
system does. But against the moderate
and occasional use of it there exists no
rational objection. It is a valuable article
in medicine. I have known much good
from its various cases, and have myself
been recovered by it, at times, from a
languor which neither company nor wine
was able to dissipate.
SMOKERS' STORIES. 83
Although, therefore, I shall not decide
on the justness of the etymology, I must
clearly assent to the truth of the fact
asserted by that critic who found its
name to be derived from three Hebrew
words which, if I recollect aright, were
70£-Bonus,^r/*-Fumus, ^4-Ejus, " Good
is the smoke thereof."
— Gentleman's Magazine (1788).
EMERSON AND CARLYLE.
THE friendship formed by these two
men at Craigenputtock lasted during
their lives. There is an unpublished
legend to the effect that on the one
evening passed at Craigenputtock by
Emerson, in 1833, Carlyle gave him a
pipe, and, taking one himself, the two
sat silent till midnight, and then parted,
shaking hands, with congratulations on
the profitable and pleasant evening they
had enjoyed.
SMOKERS* STORIES.
NAPOLEON'S FIRST PIPE.
CONSTANT relates the following anec-
dote of the great NAPOLEON, who once
took a fancy to smoke, for the purpose of
trying a very fine Oriental pipe which
had been presented to him by a Turkish
or Persian ambassador.
" Fire having been brought, it only
remained to communicate it to the tobacco,
but that could never be effected by the
method which his Majesty adopted. He
contented himself with alternately open-
ing and shutting his mouth, without
attempting to draw in his breath. ' Oh.
the devil ! ' cried he at last, ' there will be
no end of this business.' I observed to
him that he did it half-heartedly, and
showed him how he ought to begin. But
the Emperor always returned to his
yawning. Wearied by his vain efforts, he
at last desired me to light the pipe. I
obeyed, and gave it to him. But scarcely
SMOKERS' STORIES. 85
had he drawn in a mouthful than the
smoke, which he knew not how to expel,
turned back into his palate, penetrated
into his throat, and came out by his nose
and blinded him.
"As soon as he recovered his breath,
he ejaculated, • Take that away from me !
What abomination ! Oh ! the swine ! —
my stomach turns.' In fact, he felt him-
self so incommoded for at least an hour,
that he renounced forever the pleasure of
a habit which he said was only fit to
amuse sluggards."
MAZZINI'S SANG-FROID AS A
SMOKER.
THIS famous Italian exile was fore-
warned that his assassination had been
planned and that men had been dis-
patched to London for the purpose, but
he made no attempt to exclude them from
his house. One day the conspirators
86 SMOKERS' STORIES.
entered his room and found him listlessly
smoking. " Take cigars, gentlemen,"
was his instant invitation. Chatting and
hesitation on their part followed. " But
you. do not proceed to business, gentle-
men," said Mazzini. " I believe your in-
tention is to kill me." The astounded
miscreants fell on their knees, and at
length departed with the generous par-
don accorded them.
Mazzini's last years in England were
spent at Old Brompton. The modest
chambers he occupied in Onslow Ter-
race-were strewed with papers and the
tables provided with cigars, that friends
who called might select their brands and
join him. He always kept a cigar burning
while he wrote. Canaries flew free about
the room. Lord Montairy, in " Lothair,"
smoked cigars so mild and delicate in
flavor that his wife never found him out.
Mazzini surely must have had some Mon-
tairy cigars, for his canaries did not find
him out, or object to him if they did !
SMOKERS' STORIES. 87
A SMOKER IN VENICE.
THE late Earl Russell once gave a
large party to which the Poet Laureate
(Tennyson) was invited, and during the
evening his lordship, sauntering up and
down his magnificent halls, happened to
recognize Tennyson.
"Haul Mr. Tennyson, how d'ye do?
glad to see you. Hau ! you've been
traveling lately, I hear. How did you
like Venice, hau? Fine thing to be in
Venice! Did you visit the Bridge of
Sighs, hau? "
«• Yes."
" " And saw all the pictures, hau ! and
works of art in that wonderful city, did
you not, hau?"
" I didn't like Venice ! "
"Hau! Indeed! Why not, Mr.
Tennyson ? "
" They had no good cigars there, my
lord ; and I left the place in disgust."
88 SMOKERS' STORIES.
MILTON'S PIPE.
MlLTON was a smoker. When com-
posing on " Paradise Lost," he portioned
out each day in the following manner :
As soon as he rose, a chapter of the
Bible was read out to him (he was then
blind). He afterward studied till twelve,
taking an hour's exercise before he dined.
After dinner, he devoted himself to
music, playing on the organ, and he then
resumed his studies till six o'clock.
Visitors were received from six till eight,
at which hour he supped, and having
had his pipe of tobacco and glass of
water, he retired for the night.
PROFESSOR HUXLEY ON
SMOKING.
AT a debate upon " Smoking" among
the members of the British Association,
many speakers denounced and others ad-
SMOKERS' STORIES. 89
vocated the practice. Professor Huxley
said, " For forty years of my life, tobacco
has been a deadly poison to me. \Loud
cheers from the anti-tobacconists.] In
my youth, as a medical student, I tried to
smoke. In vain ! at every fresh attempt
my insidious foe stretched me prostrate
on the floor. [Repeated cheers.] I en-
tered the navy ; again I tried to smoke,
and again met with a defeat. I hated
tobacco. I could almost have lent my
support to any institution that had for its
object the putting of tobacco-smokers to
death. [ Vociferous applause] A few
years ago I was in Brittany with some
friends. We went to an inn. They
began to smoke. They looked very
happy, and outside it was very wet and
dismal. I thought I would try a cigar.
[Murmurs.] I did so. [Great expecta-
tions.] I smoked that cigar — it was de-
licious ! [Groans] From that moment
I was a changed man ; and I now feel
that smoking in moderation is a comfort-
go SMOKERS' STORIES.
able and laudable practice, and is produc-
tive of good. [Dismay and confusion of
the anti-tobacconists. Roars of laugh-
ter from the smokers.} There is no
more harm in a pipe than there is in a cup
of tea. You may poison yourself by/
drinking too much green tea, and kill
yourself by eating too many beef-steaks.
For my own part, I consider that to-
bacco, in moderation, is a sweetener and
equalizer of the temper." [Total rout
of the anti-tobacconists and complete
triumph of the smokers}
ROBERT BURNS' SNUFF-BOX.
ROBERT BURNS was never happier
than when he could "pass a winter
evening under some venerable roof and
smoke a pipe of tobacco or drink water
gruel." He also took it in snuff. Mr.
Bacon, who kept a celebrated posting-
house north of Dumfries, was his almost
I
SMOKERS' STORIES. 91
Inseparable associate. Many a merry
night did they spend together over their
cups of foaming ale or bowls of whisky
toddy, and on some of those occasions
Burns composed several of his best con-
vivial songs. The bard and the innkeeper
became so attached to each other that,
as a token of regard, Burns gave Bacon
his snuff-box, which for many years had
been his pocket companion.
The knowledge of this gift was con-
fined to a few of their jovial brethren.
But after Bacon's death, in 1825, when
his household furniture was sold by
public auction, this snuff-box was offered
among other trifles, and someone in the
crowd at once bid a shilling for it.
There was a general exclamation that it
was not worth twopence, and the auc-
tioneer seemed about to knock it down.
He first looked, however, at the lid, and
then read in a tremendous voice the fol-
lowing inscription upon it : " Robert
Burns, officer of the Excise." Scarcely
92 SMOKERS' STORIES.
had he uttered the words, says one who
was present at the sale, before shilling
after shilling was rapidly and confusedly
offered for this relic of Scotland's great
bard, the greatest anxiety prevailing;
while the biddings rose higher and
higher, till the trifle was finally knocked
down for five pounds. The box was
made of the tip of a horn, neatly turned
round at the point ; its lid is plainly
mounted with silver, on which the in-
scription is engraved.
A SMOKING EMPRESS.
THE Empress of Austria is, perhaps,
the only royal or imperial lady of the
present age who may be regarded from a
nicotian point of view with entire satis-
faction. When at home she is generally
very tired, and having little taste for read-
ing, lolls back in a deep, soft armchair,
or lies on a sofa, puffing cigarettes. She
has an album by her, with photographs
SMOKERS' STORIES. 93
of her horses, her favorite dogs, her chil-
dren, and her grandchild. She hates
brilliant assemblies, and thinks parlia-
ments contemptible. Very capricious
and strong-willed in carrying out her
whims, she can, in the German fashion,
put rank aside, and be very charming to
those who surround her, if such is her
good pleasure. Captain Middleton, who
is her esquire in the hunting-fields of
England and Ireland, has never had a
harsh word from her Majesty. With the
circus-girl Elsie, who was a year or two
ago the idol of the Parisian boulevardiers,
her Majesty is almost motherly. The two
smoke cigarettes together, and talk gayly
on equestrian subjects — the only subjects,
indeed, which interest the Kaiserin.
AN INGENIOUS SMOKER.
THE famous Bishop Burnet, like many
authors of later days, was very partial to
tobacco, and always smoked while he was
94 SMOKERS' STORIES.
writing. In order to combine the two
operations with perfect comfort to himself,
he would bore a hole through the broad
brim of his large hat, and putting the
stem of his long pipe through it, puff and
write, and write and puff, with learned
gravity.
This singular device, however, did not
originate with the English divine, since
Heine concludes some ponderous joking
on those who have liked and those who
have disliked tobacco (among the latter
he himself being included), with the re-
mark that the great Boxhornius also Joved
tobacco, and that " in smoking he wore a
hat with a broad brim, in the fore part of
which he had a hole, through which the
pipe was stuck, that it might not hinder
his studies."
This famous scholar and critic, who
died at Leyclen in 1653, was wont, with
the modesty of genuine erudition, to
say:
"How many things there are that we
SMOKERS' STORIES. 95
do not know ! " Whereupon someone
has remarked that there was one thing
certainly that Boxhornius did not know,
and that was how to moderate himself in
the use of tobacco, inasmuch as by smok-
ing incessantly he shortened his life.
RALEIGH'S TOBACCO-BOX.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH was no nig-
gard of his tobacco, if we may judge
from the size of his box. In 1719 this
relic was preserved in the museum of
Mr. Ralph Thoresby of Leeds. It was
cylindrical in form, about seven inches in
diameter and thirteen inches high ; the
outside was of gilt leather, and in the
inside was a cavity for a receiver of glass
or metal, which would hold about a
pound of tobacco. A kind of collar, con-
necting the receiver with the case, was
pierced with holes for pipes.
SMOKERS' STORIES.
SMOKING IN 1610.
FROM the following passage in Ben
Jonson's play, "The Alchemist," first
acted in 1610, we gather some curious
particulars respecting the business of a
tobacconist of that period. It occurs in
the first act, where Abel Drugger is in-
troduced to Subtle :
" This my friend Abel, an honest fellow ;
He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not
Sophisticate it with sack-lees or oil,
Nor washes it in muscadel and grains,
Nor buries it in gravel, underground,
Wrapped up in greasy leather, . . .
But keeps it in fine lily pots that, open'd,
Smell like conserve of roses, or French beans.
He has his maple block, his silver tongs,
Winchester pipes, and fire of juniper $
A neat, spruce, honest fellow. . ."
The Virginian tobacco was usually im-
ported in the leaf, and had to be rubbed
small for smoking. The Spanish tobacco
was manufactured into balls about the
size of a man's head, and was also im-
ported m the form of what the French
SMOKERS' STORIES. 97
term carottes, which were known in Eng-
land by an obscene name, hardly yet
obsolete among sailors. Not fifty years
ago a story was current in the West In-
dies, of a facetious reply given by a sailor
to his captain's wife, who, happening to
see him employed about some tobacco,
asked him what he was going to make of
it : " Penem volo fabricart, domtna , sed
vereor ne ex illo coleos faciam." This
carotte and ball tobacco was cut as re-
quired into small pieces on a maple block
with a knife, and the pipe — shorter and
straighter in the stem and more upright
in the bowl than those of our own day —
being filled, was lighted by embers of
Juniper wood, taken from a kind of
chafing dish by silver tongs.
PIGS AND SMOKERS.
" BROTHER G.," said one clergyman to
another, " is it possible you smoke to-
bacco ? Pray, give up the unseemly prac-
98 SMOKERS' STORIES.
tice. It is alike unclerica! and uncleanly.
Tobacco ! Why, my dear brother, even
a pig would not smoke so vile a weed ! "
Brother G. delivered a mild outpouring
of tobacco-fumes^nd then as mildly said,
" I suppose, Brother C, you don't smoke ? "
" No, indeed ! " exclaimed his friend, with
virtuous horror. Another puff or two,
and then Brother G., who prefers the so-
cratic method of argument, rejoined,
" Then, dear brother, which is more like
the pig — you or I ? "
THE SOCIAL PIPE.
HONEST men, with pipes or cigars in
their mouths, have great physical advan-
tages in conversation. You may stop
talking if you like, but the breaks of
silence never seem disagreeable, being
filled up by the puffing of the smoke;
hence there is no awkwardness in resum-
ing the conversation, no straining for
effect — sentiments are delivered in a
grave, easy manner. The cigar harmo-
SMOKERS' STORIES. 99
nizes the society, and soothes at once the
speaker and the subject whereon he con-
verses. I have no doubt that it is from
the habit of smoking that the Turks and
American Indians are such monstrous
well-bred men. The pipe draws wisdom
from the lips of the philosopher, and shuts
up the mouth of the foolish ; it generates
a style of conversation, contemplative,
thoughtful, benevolent, and unaffected;
in fact, dear Bob, — I must out with it,
— I am an old smoker. At home, I have
done it up the chimney rather than not
do it (the which I own is a crime).
I vow and believe that the cigar has
been one of the greatest creature-com-
forts of my life — a kind companion, a
gentle stimulant, an amiable anodyne, a
cementer of friendship.
—THACKERAY.
100 TOBACCO FACTS.
AGES ATTAINED BY GREAT
SMOKERS.
INVETERATE smokers have reached
very great ages. Hobbes, who smoked
twelve pipes a day at Chatsworth, at-
tained the age of 92 ; Izaak Walton, 90;
Dr. Carr, 78; all devoted lovers of the
pipe ; and Dr. Isaac Barrow called tobacco
his " panpharmacon."
In 1769, died Abraham Favrot, a Swiss
baker, aged 104; to the last he walked
firmly, read without spectacles, and al-
ways had a pipe in his mouth.
In 1845, died Pheasy Molly, of Buxton,
Derbyshire, aged 96 ; she was burned to
death, her clothes becoming ignited while
lighting her pipe at the fire.
In 1856, there died at Wellbury, North
Riding of Yorkshire, Jane Garbutt, aged
no; she retained her faculties and en-
joyed her pipe to the last, She had
smoked " very nigh a hundred years."
TOBACCO FACTS. IOI
Wadd, in his Comments on Corpulency,
mentions an aged Effendi, " whose back
\vas bent like a bow, and who was in the
habit of taking daily four ounces of rice,
thirty cups of coffee, three grains of
opium, besides smoking sixty pipes of
tobacco." Mr. Chatto, in his amusing
Paper of Tobacco, relates that some time
ago there was living at Hildhausen, in
Silesia, a certain Heinrich Hertz, aged
142, who had been a tobacco-taker from
his youth and still continued to smoke a
pipe or two every day.
Although the lovers of smoking have
pressed Old Parr into their evidence in
its favor, they must yield to the authority
of Taylor, the Water-Poet, who in his
Old, Old, very Old Man ; or, the Age
and Life of Thomas Parr, says :
" He had but little time to waste,
Or at the ale-house, huff-cap ale to taste ;
Nor did he ever hunt a tavern fox ;
Ne'er knew a coach, tobacco" etc.
IO2 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
SOME SALESMEN AND
OTHERS.
THE typical traveling man knows hew
to wear good clothes, and will converse
upon any subject from protoplasm to the
rearing of children. He will " josh " a
baby up and down to relieve a tired
mother on a long journey, and is willing
at any time to usurp from the landscape
the pretty girl's attention to himself and
his deeds of prowess, from "delightful
trips " and " car load lots " to the " best
room in the house."
It is not his fault if the pretty girl
suffers from ennui. If she will only give
him a fair show he will surely hit upon
something to make her journey pleasant.
He knows everybody and everything
worth knowing. Her name may be
Smith. One of his very best customers —
an " elegant gentleman," is named Smith.
Or " you remind me very much of a
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. IO3
friend in New York." " Never been to
New York ? " " We will have to look
into your case."
And then he draws a very graphic
picture " of the only town in the country."
She is charmed — nay, fascinated. Per-
haps he invites her to have a little lunch
on the train. They dine en route, and he
owns the car. How the waiter hustles
for him. What graceful table manners
he affects. What fascinating " noth-
ings " he pours into her ears. Her heart
is no longer in the country town. It is
traveling at the rate of forty miles an
hour and beating very fast. If she were
a possible customer now what a bill of
goods he would sell. But alas, she is
only a trusting maiden. He knows it,
and regrets he has charmed her so. He
is a gentleman, as most of his kind are.
Then he assumes the brotherly role, and
when her station is reached her heart is
back again in the country town. She has
a pleasant memory to feed on for some
104 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
time to come, and he has had the satis-
faction of making what might have been
a tiresome ride a pleasant time for the
maid at least.
Gallant and chivalrous as the " typical "
generally is, he is just as accomplished in
other ways. Versatile to his finger tips,
he is perfectly capable of running the
train \should the conductor suddenly
die) or holding up the passengers, for
that matter, if he found he was
"broke."
But there is a class of traveling men
who possess all of the above qualities, and
some others.
They are the unique creatures who are
known as CIGAR SALESMEN.
" And the wonder of it is there are no
two of them alike."
In fact, there are so many different
kinds of them that if one hundred were
assembled together in one room it would
be impossible to classify them in bunches
of five as " Exhibit A," " B," etc.
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. IO5
There are four distinct types, however,
which stand out prominently on the land-
scape. They are like a certain brand of
bicycle — " you see them everywhere," and
they don't have to be labeled. For that
reason it is easier to draw a pen picture
of them.
We will call type No. i.
Jimmy Smirk to the front. This
gentleman is the most beautiful specimen
of the cigar salesman now in existence.
He was discovered about fifteen years
ago — when he was twenty-five years
old — sighing and looking at some laven-
der " pants " in a tailor's window. How
he got where he is, is too long a story, but
he is at present representing a big cigar
manufacturer in the West.
It is said that he is only ten hours
behind the latest London and Paris styles.
Leading tailors of both these places
always have a copy of his route before
them so that if any new style is adopted
he is cabled to at once. Perhaps this
106 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
may not be strictly true, but it is given as
a fact that last winter he received the
following cable from London :
" Prince of Wales' new overcoat is
without pockets."
And Jimmy immediately wired back :
" Charming innovation. I'll take the
same." And so Jimmy was seen once —
just once — in Denver, Salt Lake City,
San Francisco, and other points with the
pocketless overcoat.
Some people thought it a rather giddy
coat, and began to make inquiries about
the wearer. When they found he was a
cigar salesman their admiration was great.
Jimmy got into the papers. Smokers
began to ask their retail dealer what
house he represented. There were so
many inquiries, that out of self-protection
the retailers had to buy some of Jimmy's
cigars. People wanted to know him.
They found him a good fellow ^vho knew
how to wear clothes without being con-
scious that he was " a man apart."
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. IO7
" Clever dog ! " An advertising genius
who makes his luxurious tastes produce
sales and profits.
The Cosy Corner cigar salesman
couldn't do as Jimmy does. Beware of
him. He is as insidious as absinthe.
What a rippling, bell-like laugh he has,
and stories. It is rumored that he
carries a bottle of stuff that when in-
jected into the system produces instan-
taneous good nature. Clothes ; he'll
have none of them that he can't wear all
the time. Not even an extra pair of
trousers. He sells you a bill of goods
when you're not looking. And so easy.
You have had the best dinner for many
a day, and laughter enough to last a
month. " I told that story of yours to
fifty people, and they nearly died." In
the middle of the second bottle the
" Cosy Corner " produces cigars. By
that time you love the world. You in-
sist upon giving him a big order. He
doesn't want to sell you now, " but, if
108 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
you insist, I will book it." That's hts
way, and you like it.
The cold-blooded business man doesn't
care for small bottles. He never drinks,
and looks upon life through crackers-and-
milk and tea-and-toast spectacles. He
is the closest buyer in the business.
Prices talk with him, and nothing else.
For that reason our friend Charlie
Hustler can do business with him.
Charlie travels for a cheap cigar concern,
sells everybody he can, and when you
turn around to speak to him he is on the
train for the next town. Queer fellow,
Charlie. He is the " Electric Spark " of
the trade. Nobody ever saw him sit
down, or to be without a sample case.
If he is to take a nine o'clock train, you
will find him quoting prices at 8.40 to
some retailer. He carries his cards and
railroad ticket in his hat, makes out his
orders on the train, and foots up his sales
while waiting for the different courses at
dinner. You are wrapt in admiration for
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. IOQ
him, but for the real thing the Colonel is
the best. Not to know the " Colonel " is
to have missed
" A loyal, just, and upright gentleman."
The above quotation is the keynote of
the " Colonel's " character, for if there
ever was a courteous, chivalrous, and
picturesque human being, he is one. Of
such stuff as this is the " Colonel " made.
Is it any wonder that his success as a
cigar salesman has enabled him to retire
with all his honors flush upon him.
Ask the " Colonel " to talk about him-
self and he is silent. " Really, my dear
boy, there's nothing interesting about me.
It is true I have sold a few cigars in my
day, but plenty of others have done the
same." From another source, however,
you learn that not many others have done
" the same.'' You also learn that the
" Colonel " is modest, and when you ask
him about a twenty-five thousand dollar
IIO SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
sale he once made, he does admit it was
true.
" What was your secret in selling
cigars ? "
" Simply doing the best I know how.
Telling the truth about my goods, so that
the customer knew it was the truth, and
letting the price do the rest."
And there you have the "Colonel."
There was no secret in his way of doing
business, and since he will not talk about
himself, let us hear what he has to say in
a general way.
"A large dry goods merchant out in
Chicago used to say to his traveling
men : ' Keep down your expenses.
Remember that a cigar goes a long way.'
" This may or may not be true in
the dry goods business," continued the
" Colonel." " In the cigar trade the giv-
ing of a cigar cuts no figure. It could not
by any possible means bring about a
friendly feeling between buyer and sales-
man. If the cigar is good, and your
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. Ill
prices right, it will assist, like a sample of
anything else, to make the sale. Cigars
given away socially should go a long way,
however.
" To me it is a proof of esteem to have
a friend give me one of his cigars.
Something that he has put time, trouble,
and even study in finding to his taste, he
shares with me. Isn't that a graceful
compliment to pay a friend ?
" While on the subject, did you ever
think that a profitable school of instruc-
tion for salesmen could be started?
There's a great field here for some
ex-traveling salesmen to use his past
experience profitably.
" Take dealing with buyers, for in-
stance ; what a course of study that calls
for alone ! Of course there can be no
instruction that will teach a salesman how
to successfully approach every buyer,
but there are a few principles and laws
which every salesman ought to know,
but doesn't. For example, I believe that
112 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
after the salesman has announced the
name of the firm he travels for, he should,
without being officious, be sure that the
buyer knows his own name. Quite a
little important point, and one which is
frequently overlooked.
" After a man has been traveling for
some time, he will find out that buyers
are only human beings after all. You
have^tf/ to be a diplomat to succeed as
a salesman. Five minutes' talk with a
buyer ought to be enough. Then size
him up and proceed cautiously. How
often has a good story helped to sell a bill
of goods ! How often a word too much
or too little has killed a sale ! How
often has the knowledge (discreetly used)
of a buyer's ' pet hobby ' been the only
means of making a sale !
" To sum it all up, to be a successful
salesman you've got to be prepared to
take an interest in everything on earth.
In other words, as a newspaper man says
of his vocation, to be ' newborn every day.'
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. 113
* Some good writer will make a hit one
of these days with a series of cigar char-
acter sketches, making the cigars tell the
story of their life and adventures. For
instance, what a story a tenement-house
cigar could tell ! The people it has as-
sociated with from start to finish, and its
vicissitudes. You can easily see there's
a wealth of literary material here.
" I remember very well the first tene-
ment-house cigars which were put on the
market. The salesmen were nothing but
peddlers. They went out on the road
with their stock of cigars, and, like the
fish peddlers, didn't come home until
they had sold out.
"Salesmen for the tenement-house
concerns were versatile characters in the
early days. They had to be. A friend
of mine who travels for one of these
houses was suddenly wired to come
home when he was doing a good busi-
ness. He couldn't understand it until he
arrived at the factory. He found a red-
114 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
hot strike in progress and an excited
lot of cigarmakers outside the building
about to break in the door and attack
those working inside. Climbing through
a back window he grabbed a piece of
lead pipe and guarded the door just as
the strikers were about to force it open.
It wasn't exactly a ' lead pipe cinch ' for
him, but he stood his ground until his
employers had a chance to go for the
police.
" When they arrived on the scene his
work was over, and he walked right out
among the crowd of strikers, boarded a.
train out of town, and the next clay was
selling cigars as if nothing naa nappened.
" About the worst cigars are made in
Pennsylvania by the farmers and their
families during the winter. The tobacco
is of course grown on their own land,
and they make a good living by filling in
the winter months making these fire-
brands. They are sold to all sorts of
strange people and fakirs, and are often
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. IIJ
known as ' scheme cigars '; that is, they
are sold with clocks, cheap watches, and
pictures.
" A strong, muscular traveling man
who represented one of these scheme-
cigar concerns, told me not long ago that
he is physically unable to smoke his own
samples. He wipes out a good many
quiet old grudges with these cigars during
a year.
" Historical names are to my mind by
far the best to give cigars. They recall
so much and linger with you when other
names are forgotten. There's the flavor
of romance about them. Your favorite
heroes are carried back to your boyhood
schooldays with pleasant memories, and
in spite of yourself when you go to buy a
cigar, some historical name is on the tip
of your tongue.
" In spite of the fact that the cigar
trade is just as cold-blooded as any other
when it comes to doing business, still
no one can deny that in the poorest
Il6 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS.
and meanest cigar, there is, or ought to
be, a certain sentiment which is not as-
sociated with any other manufactured
article. From the green fields of tobacco
to the cigar in a box surrounded by
bright labels and ribbons, it is always a
picturesque creation. There is nothing
that will take its place on this earth.
And since that is so, let me offer you one
of my special brand."
The " Colonel " lit his cigar and the
writer joined him. After a few puffs, he
said, " Nothing else in the world except a
cigar could put an end to my rambling
remarks." In a few minutes he was lost
in a cloud, and the interview ended.
PUFFS. 117
PUFFS.
ABOUT four and a quarter billion
cigars were manufactured in this country
last year, and the government got the
" rake off " — over twelve million dollars.
TOBACCO in any form is good for the
teeth. (Please don't dispute this.) This
doesn't mean that it takes the place of a
tooth brush. That's a different propor-
tion altogether, as they say in Colorado.
THE famous Vuelta Abajo district
will not be very much in evidence next
year as far as producing tobacco is con-
cerned. Already at this writing the '96
crop is only one-tenth of what it usually
is, and the tobacco garden of Cuba has
been devastated to a condition of sadness
which nothing except war could accom-
plish.
But while this portion of the island is
only waiting to be permitted to breathe a
3l8 PUFFS.
little new life, it is still the same soil
and climate. And nowhere else on
" God's green acres " grows a plant equal
in fragrance and aroma to the tobacco
raised in the Vuelta Abajo (" The Lower
Turn ") district. It is the Sunset Land
of Cuba — the tail of the island — not un-
like the shape of an alligator. It is in the
province of Pinar del Rio — " The Pine
of the River" — about 150 miles long
and 40 wide, the tobacco growing portion
being only one-half of the province in
length and width.
It is a diversified country. Here a sea-
coast, there a forest, now a series of
rocky hills skirted by a valley of flat
lands where grows the beautiful plant.
HE who smokes and lays away,
Will smoke the same another day.
MME. HELENA MODJESKA, one of the
most charming of women and certainly
an actress, if there ever was one, smokes
cigarettes. And there are people who
PUFFS. 119
say that no lady will ever smoke a cigar-
ette. According to that no gentleman
will smoke a cigar, much less a pipe.
And yet we have smoked with some
very gentle-men.
A cigar is a cigar for a' that.
MOST men of talent and genius use or
have used tobacco in some form. Those
who don't, while they are none the less
great, are surely less happy. What a
round of reveries and delightful musings
they have missed ! Napoleon, for in-
stance, if he had only learned to smoke,
might have made a better record for him-
self, certainly a more humane one, and
his days of St. Helena would have been
so calm, peaceful, and reflective that he
would have given us a study of the times
(had he smoked) that would now be
among the classics of literature.
Look at the " big smokers " of to-day,
and outside of their greatness what
" good fellows " they are. Here are
130 PUFFS.
some of them — Thomas A. Edison, Sir
Henry Irving, Buffalo Bill, Bismarck,
Prince of Wales, Marion Crawford,
Richard Mansfield, Colonel Ingersoll,
Henry George, Henry Watterson, James
Gordon Bennett, Frank Work, Carl
Schurz, Speaker Reed, Francis Wilson,
De Wolf Hopper, and lots of others.
A CRITIC once discovered that the great
difference between two celebrated French
painters, Decamps and Horace Vernet,
was mainly the effect of their habits as
users of tobacco. The French Murillo,
the Oriental colorist, the sublime
D6camps, smoked a pipe. Vernet toyed
with the cigarette.
ON A BROKEN PIPE.
NEGLECTED now it lies, a cold clay form,
So late with living inspirations warm ;
Type of all other creatures formed of
clay,
What more than it for epitaph have
they?
PUFFS. 121
TOBACCO, some say, is a potent narcotic,
That rules half the world in a way quite
despotic ;
So to punish him well for his wicked and
merry tricks,
We'll burn him forthwith, as they used
to do heretics.
A GOOD name for a cigar is at any time
worth one hundred dollars per letter.
There is no other trade that uses or possi-
bly can use so many titles for its wares.
The thousands of beautiful names given
to cigars show that cigar manufacturers
are a very appreciative lot of people, and
are quite as much (if not more) advanced
in the philosophy and poetry of life as any
other class of business men.
A glance at the registrations of cigar
names will verify the above at any time.
There is scarcely a name of history,
romance, and song which could be used
in good taste but what is used on the
cover of a cigar box. A young man who
122 PUFFS.
thought he had a " good thing " recently
submitted one hundred names to the
Tobacco Leaf. He found all but four
of them had been used, and he went sadly
away, leaving the names behind.
I OWE to smoking, more or less,
Through life the whole of my success ;
With my cigar I'm sage and wise,
Without, I'm dull as cloudy skies.
When smoking, all my ideas soar,
When not they sink upon the floor.
The greatest men have all been smokers,
And so were all the greatest jokers.
Then ye who'd bid adieu to care
Come here and smoke it into air.
J. DYER BALL, ESQ., in his book
" Things Chinese," says concerning pipe
(tobacco) smoking in China : " There are
two kinds of pipes in use : the dry pipe and
the water pipe. The latter is a copy of the
Indian hookah ; it consists of a receptacle
PUFFS. 123
for the water into which a tube-like
piece, about the size of a small finger, is
inserted ; the upper end of this tube con-
tains a small cavity into which the tobacco
is put. The smoke is inhaled through
the water up the pipe part, which is a
tube about a foot long gradually narrow-
ing and bending over at the mouthpiece.
These pipes are made of an alloy of
copper, zinc, nickel, and sometimes a little
silver, and are used by ladies and gentle-
men.
" The other pipes are often made of
bamboo, as far as the stems are con-
cerned, and vary in length from a few
feet to a few inches. The bowls, of
metal, are small, holding scarcely more
than a thimbleful of tobacco ; a few whiffs
exhaust them, and, with the gentleman or
lady, a servant is ready who steps up,
takes the pipe, empties out the ashes,
refills it, sticks it into the mouth of his
master or mistress, and lights it with a
paper spill."
124 PUFFS.
IN the Quartier Latin of Paris the pipe
has ever been the great consoler in the
bachelor homes of Bohemian artists, and
has ever usurped the sway of woman,
as in the case of the artist Gavarni, who
on his deathbed is reported to have said
to a friend : " I leave you my wife and
my pipe ; take care of my pipe."
NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS.
AN Englishman and a Frenchman
were traveling together in a diligence,
and both smoking. Monsieur did all in
his power to draw his phlegmatic fellow-
passenger into conversation, but to no
purpose. At last, with a superabundance
of politeness, he apologized for drawing
his attention to the fact that the ash of
his cigar had fallen on his waistcoat, and
that a spark was endangering his neck-
erchief.
The Englishman, now thoroughly
aroused, exclaimed : " Why the devil
PUFFS. 125
can't you let me alone ! Your coat-tail
has been on fire for the last ten minutes,
but I didn't bother you about it ! "
TOBACCO AND THE PLAGUE.
WHILE the Great Plague raged in Lon-
don, tobacco was recommended by the
faculty and generally taken as a prevent-
ive against infection. Pepys records the
following on the 7th of June, 1665 : " The
hottest day that ever I felt in my life.
This day, much against my will, I did in
Drury Lane see two or three houses
marked with a red cross upon the doors,
and ' Lord, have mercy upon us ! ' writ
there ; which was a sad sight to me, be-
ing the first of the kind, to my remem-
brance, I ever saw. It put me into an ill
conception of myself and my smell, so
that I was forced to buy some roll to-
bacco to smell and chew, which took away
the apprehension."
Further, it was popularly reported that
no tobacconists or their households were
126
PUFFS.
afflicted by the plague. Physicians who
visited the sick took it very freely ; the
men who went round with the dead carts
had their pipes continually alight. This
gave tobacco a new popularity, and it
again took the high medical position ac-
corded to it by the physicians of the
French Court.
IF a cigar kills you it's bad.
LET him now smoke who never smoked
before,
And he who always smoked now smoke
the more.
HOW TO KEEP A PIPE. 127
HOW TO KEEP A PIPE GOOD-
NATURED.
To begin with, every smoker should
have from three to a dozen good pipes,
and besides he must be a pipe smoker.
By pipe smoker is meant not merely a
smoker of pipes nor one who uses a pipe
as a makeshift — wishing all the time he
had a good cigar — but one who thinks
this is the only form of smoke for his
fireside, his " easy-chair," and worthy to
breathe its incense upon his books.
No pipe possesses any individuality in
a store, but for such a smoker another
pipe means another child added to his
family of pipe children. Another child
that must be washed, cleaned, and gen-
erally looked after if he wants it to live
and be sweet-tempered.
There are many pipe smokers and
would-be pipe smokers, however, who
do not know how to care for their pipes
128 HOW TO KEEP A PIPE.
— for those we offer the following sug*
gestions, which will undoubtedly be of
service :
CONCERNING BRIAR PIPES.
Pipes, like people, must have good
digestions and lungs. When you buy
a pipe take a good look into the bowl.
Examine its digestion by noticing if the
entrance from the bowl into the stem is
perfectly open. Take a pull at the mouth-
piece, and if the draught is free — not too
free — and there are no cracks or flaws
anywhere to be seen, you have all the
elements of a good pipe.
Begin by handling a new pipe very
gingerly. A new pipe is like a new baby
and must be treated tenderly. Some
smokers carefully wet the inside of the
bowl before putting the tobacco in a new
pipe. This we believe to be the proper
thing as it removes any new or sticky
taste that may have been left in the pipe.
Your pipe is now ready for use. Some
HOW TO KEEP A PIPE. 121)
smokers, before inserting the tobacco,
put a piece of blotting paper in the bot-
tom of the bowl. Do not do this. It is
said that blotting paper absorbs the nico-
tine. If that is so there is very little
taste to the tobacco, for it is the nicotine
that gives the taste to the tobacco, and
(except for a very infinitesimal part that
will adhere to the pipe after each smoke)
unless the smoker creates an abnormal
amount of saliva, it can do no harm.
Put in your tobacco, but don't fill it
quite to the top of the bowl. Be careful,
in lighting your tobacco, not to burn the
rim of the bowl. Smoke very leisurely at
first, gently breaking in your pipe until
every part of it seems to be hardened to
the heat. Keep this up for five or six
smokes. Then you and your pipe can
" rough it " anywhere on earth.
In filling your pipe be careful not to
pack it in too tight, so that the bowl
becomes choked up and the tobacco re-
fuses to burn. Put your tobacco in fairly
I3O HOW TO KEEP A PIPE.
loose, and after a few puffs push it gently
down in the bowl and keep doing this at
intervals until your smoke is finished.
This prevents the pipe from going out
and creates moisture enough so that there
is no danger of it biting the tongue.
After you have finished smoking re-
move the ashes by spooning them out
with a little instrument that is made for
that purpose and which can be bought
for ten or twenty-five cents. With this
instrument you cannot only remove the
ashes, but can also remove, at the same
time, the new crust which always forms
in the bowl of the pipe. If any refuse
remains in the bowl of the pipe after that,
it can be removed by knocking the bowl
in the hand.
The original coating should never be
disturbed, for it is really the fine flavor —
the divine aroma — which clings to a pipe
and to every true smoker a delight.
This is really all that is necessary to do
with a bowl of a pipe ; no other cleaning
HOW TO KEEP A PIPE. 13!
is required and no chemicals need be
used, for if you follow these directions
your pipe will always be in good condi-
tion.
It is assumed that you are the possessor
of at least three good briar pipes. This
being the case, none of these pipes should
be smoked oftener than once in three
days. A pipe smoked on Sunday should
not be touched until Wednesday. The
next smoke day for that pipe would be
Saturday. With these three pipes, and
an occasional addition to your pipe fam-
ily of a new one once in six months, you
can defy the world, for you have solved
one of the greatest of comfort problems.
In cleaning, detach the mouthpiece,
then take either the little wire brush
used for cleaning pipes, or a chicken
feather, or a piece of string, or anything
else that will serve the purpose without
being liable to break off in the pipe.
Dip any of these articles in a little
" household ammonia " or alcohol ; run
132 THE BETROTHED.
it through the mouthpiece until it is per*
fectly clear, then attack the stem the
same way, chasing the cleaner into the
bottom of the bowl of the pipe, but no
further. Repeat this operation a couple
of times, after which give your pipe a
holiday for a few days, and the next
time it is smoked it will, somehow, taste
better than ever before.
Don't use either alcohol or "house-
hold ammonia " in the bowl of a pipe,
except what little washes the bottom of
the bowl by the cleaner.
THE BETROTHED.
" You must choose between me and your cigar"
OPEN the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways and Maggie
and I are out.
We have quarreled about Havanas — we fought
o'er a good cheroot,
And I know she is exacting, and she says I am
a brute.
THE BETROTHED. 133
Open the old cigar-box—let me consider a.
space ;
In the soft blue veil of the vapor, musing on
Maggie's face.
Maggie is pretty to look at, Maggie's a loving
lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the
truest of loves must pass.
There's peace in a Laranaga, there's calm in a
Henry Clay,
But the best cigar in an hour is finished and
thrown away.
Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe
and brown,
But I could not throw away Maggie, for fear o'
the talk of the town !
Maggie my wife at fifty, gray and dour and
old,
With never another Maggie to purchase for
love or gold !
And the light of Days that have been, the dark
of the Days that are,
And Love's touch stinking and stale, like the
butt of a dead cigar—
The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to
keep in your pocket,
With never a new one to light, tho' it's charred
and black to the socket.
C34 THE BETROTHED.
Open the old cigar-box—let me consider
awhile;
Here is a mild Manilla, there is a wifely smile.
Which is the better portion— bondage bought
with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a
string ?
Counselors cunning and silent — comforters
true and tried,
And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival
bride ?
Thought in the early morning, solace in time
of woes,
Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my
eyelids close.
This will the fifty give me, asking naught in
return.
With only a Suttee's passion, to do their duty
and burn.
This will the fifty give me. When they are
spent and dead,
Five times other fifties shall be my servants in-
stead.
The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the
Spanish Main,
When they hear my harem is empty, will send
me my bride again.
THE BETROTHED. 135
I will take no heed of their raiment, no food for
their mouth withal,
So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the
showers fall.
I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will
I temper their hides.
And the Moor and the Mormons shall envy,
who read of the tale of my brides.
For Maggie has written a letter to give me my
choice between
The wee little whimpering Love and the great
god, NICK O'TEEN.
And I have been servant of Love, for barely a
twelvemonth clear.
But I have been priest of Partagas a matter of
seven year ;
And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked
with the cheery light
Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and
Pleasure and Work and Fight.
And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie
and I must prove,
But the only light on the marshes is the Will-
o'-the Wisp of Love.
Will it see me safe through my journey, or
leave me bogged in the mire ?
Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I fol-
low the fitful fire ?
136 HOW TO COLOR A MEERSCHAUM.
Open the old cigar-box, let me consider anew —
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should
abandon you?
A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear
the yoke ;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good
cigar is a smoke.
Light me another Cuba ; I hold to my first
sworn vows,
If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no
Maggie for spouse !
— RUDYARD KIPLING.
HOW TO COLOR A MEER-
SCHAUM.
THE secret of coloring a meerschaum
is not to allow the pipe to become too
hot.
All meerschaum pipes are boiled in
wax. This wax penetrates the pores and
serves to keep the coloring matter in the
pipe. This coloring matter is the oil of
tobacco, and meerschaum being a porous
HOW TO COLOR A MEERSCHAUM. 137
clay, the oil sinks into it, but is stopped
by the wax, which retains the coloring
matter in the pipe.
The average heat produced by smoking
other pipes will prevent the coloring mat-
ter from showing by causing the wax to
run, and sink to that portion of the pipe
where it is cool — at the bottom and on
the stem — which would be the only part
of the pipe to color.
There are two ways to prevent this,
both of which are used with success in
coloring a meerschaum.
The first way is by the use of a false or
extra bowl fitted into the bowl of the
pipe. With this false bowl and ordinary
precaution you can keep your pipe at an
even, cool temperature, so that all the
coloring matter will be retained and the
pipe will be colored completely, from the
top of the bowl to the end of the stem.
The other way to color a meerschaum
is by using a perforated bottom placed in
the bottom of the bowl.
138 HOW TO COLOR A MEERSCHAUM.
This is a more comfortable way than
the false bowl, but the smoker has got to
use more care in not overheating the
pipe. This can be prevented by taking
long, slow puffs, in not filling the pipe to
the top of the bowl, and not filling again
immediately after smoking.
Here are a few other hints, however
which the smoker will do well to make a
note of :
Do not subject your meerschaum to
sudden changes of cold or heat. Meer-
schaum is susceptible to heat and cold,
expanding with one and contracting with
the other, and a sudden and decided
change of temperature may cause it to
snap to pieces.
Do not handle the pipe with perspiring
fingers, as the sweat is injurious to the
clay ; having acid in it which gives the
surface a mottled appearance which can-
not be removed.
Never cover the pipe with a coat of
chamois leather. Chamois skin absorbs
NEW CROP OF TOBACCO — POETRY. 139
the wax, and, when taken from the pipe,
is liable to leave blotches.
Remember that the bowl of a meer-
schaum should never be touched by any-
thing while it is hot or even warm.
Clean a meerschaum in the same way
as you do a briar pipe.
TO MY PIPE.
O, I love the merry gurgle of my pipe,
Brier pipe ;
When the flavor of the weed within is ripe
What a lullaby it purls.
As the smoke around me curls.
Mounting slowly higher, higher.
As I dream before the fire,
With a flavor in my mouth,
Like a zephyr from the South,
And my favorite tobacco
By my side,
Near my side,
With the soothing necromancy
Sweetly linking fact to fancy,
In a golden memory-chain
To the gurgle, sweet refrain,
Of my pipe, brier pipe,
To the fancy-breeding gurgie of my pipe.
140 NEW CROP OF TOBACCO— POETRY.
O, what subtle satisfaction is my pip*,
Brier pipe ;
Nothing mundane can impart
Such contentment to my heart ;
She's my idol, she's my Queen,
Is my Lady Nicotine ;
When in trouble how I yearn
For the incense which I burn
At her shrine.
How I pine
For the fragrance of her breath ;
Robbed of terrors e'en is death
By her harmless hypnotism ;
Healed is every mortal schism.
Foe and friend
Sweetly blend
At the burning of the brier ;
Greed, cupidity, desire
Fade away within the smoke
In the fragrant, fleecy smoke,
From my pipe, magic pipe ;
From my glowing, peace-bestowing,
gurgling pipe.
— SIGEL ROUSH in New York Sun.
"SHE."
YES, Dear,
I fear
I love another, strange to say.
Brunette,
This pet,
And I am with her night and day.
NEW CROP OF TOBACCO — POETRY. 14!
Just now,
I vow,
I pressed her fondly to my lips ;
The kiss
Was bliss
And thrilled me to my finger tips J
Don't pout!
She's out
And you are sweeter, love, by far,
Altho'
By Jo!
" She " was an awful good cigar !
—CARL WERNER.
THE DEALER'S DUPE.
[ With apologies to Rudyard Kipling and " The
Vampire."}
A FOOL there was, and he spent a dime
(Even as you and I)
For a weed that smelled like burning twine
(We called it a sin, a shame, a crime) ;
But the fool he called it Havana, fine
(Even as you and I).
Oh, the grudge we make and the smudge we
make,
Is due to the dealer bland,
Who swore that the filler was genuine " clear n
(He lied like sin, but he showed no fear),
So the fool he bought the brand.
142 NEW CROP OF TOBACCO— POETRY.
A fool there was, and his coin he blew
(Even as you and I),
'Twas one cigar for the price of two
(But that was as much as the darn fool knew),
He puffed away till his face turned blue —
(Even as you and I).
Oh, the fun he lost, and the " mon " he lost,
And the heavy head he had
Belong to the dealer who didn't care
(As long as the fool didn't smoke it there) —
Though he knew the stock was bad.
The fool was fooled and he gave up " ten "
(Even as you and I),
For Havana clear from the land of Penn
(He knows it now, but he didn't know then) —
He smoked it, too — but he won't again
(Even as you and I).
And it isn't the shame or it isn't the blame
That stings like a white-hot brand.
It's the fact that the poor man never knew
The weed |hat he smoked or the place where
it grew
(Kipling quit here, so I'll quit too),
And never could understand.
—CARL WERNER, in the Tobacco Leaf.
NEW CROP OF TOBACCO — POETRY. 143
A FREE PUFF."
Do you remember when first we met ?
I was turning twenty— well ! I don't forget
How I walked along
Humming a song,
Across the fields and down the lane
By the country road and back again
To the dear old farm — three miles or more
And brought you home from the village store.
Summer was passing — don't you recall
The splendid harvest we had that fall,
And how when the autumn died — sober and
brown —
We trudged down the turnpike, and on to the
town ?
Sweet black briarwood Pipe of mine !
If you were human you'd be half divine,
For when I've looked beyond the smoke, into
your burning bowl.
In times of need,
You've been, indeed,
The only comfort, sweetest solace, of my over-
flowing soul.
We've been together nearly thirty years, old
fellow !
And now, you must admit, we're both a trifle
mellow.
We have had our share of joys and a deal of
sorrows ;
And while we're only waiting for a few more
to-morrows,
144 NEW CROP OF TOBACCO — POETRY.
Others will come, and others will go,
And Time will gather what Youth will sow.
But we together will go down the rough
Road to the end, and to the end— puff.
—ARTHUR GRAY.
PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY
GT Bain, John
3020 Tobacco in song and story
B3
1896