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