Book_____JLi_ 
 
/ 
 
 TOBACCO 
 
 JN >^ >^ ^ ^ 
 SONG AND STORY 
 
 COMPILED BY 
 
 JOHN 'BAIN, Jr. 
 
 
 ' It may be weeds Pve gathered^too : 
 But even weeds may be as f7'agr4tnt 
 As the fairest fiower with so7ne 
 Sweet memory.'^ 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 ARTHUR GRAY & CO 
 
 1896 
 
 /^^M 
 
 .\>- 
 
\^ 
 
 
 
 nfi 
 
 w ^? 
 
 Copyright, 1896, 
 
 BV 
 
 ARTHUR GRAY. 
 
 THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS, 
 RAHWAY, N. J. 
 
I* 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh. Sketch, ... 7 
 
 The Discovery of Tobacco, . . .20 
 
 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.—Ca.Tlyle 'on Tobacco.— In Favor 
 of Tobacco, Samuel Rowlands.— K Pipe 
 of Tobacco, Isaac H. Brozune.—Bulwev- 
 Lytton on Tobacco Smoking.— Invoca- 
 tion to Tobacco, Henry James Mellen. — 
 The Happy Smoker, E. Bonfils.—^^XQ. 
 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, 36-70 
 
 Latakia, T. B. Aldrich.—^MhMvcL^ To- 
 bacco, Lord Byron.— Yirginia, Tobacco, 
 /o/in Stanley Gregson.—K Good Cigar, 
 Norris Bull.— A Poet's Pipe, Richard 
 Heme Shepherd.— TYiq 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 OV 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.— ^vaokvag Away, 
 Francis Miles Blench. — Tobacco, Geo. 
 Wither.— A Maiden's Wish.— My Cigar- 
 ette, Charles F. Lumm is. —Those Ashes, 
 R. K. Munkit trick.— lAoyv It Once Was, 
 New York Sun.— Beer, George Arnold. 
 On a Tobacco Jar, Bernard Barker.— 
 'Twas Off the Blue Canaries, Joseph 
 Warren Fabetts.—ln Wreaths of Smoke, 
 Frank Newton Holman.— The Old Clay 
 Pipe, A. B. Van /^^^^/.— Knickerbocker, 
 Austin Dobson. — Ode to Tobacco, C. S. 
 Calverley. — My Friendly Pipe, Detroit 
 Tribune.— Choosing a Wife by a Pipe of 
 Tobacco, Gentleman'* s 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 Carlyle.— 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, loo-ioi 
 
 Ages Attained by Great Smokers. 
 
 Some Salesmen and Others, . . 102-116 
 
 Puffs, 117-126 
 
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 Hfe 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. 
 
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 on 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. 9 
 
 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 
 
lO 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 Olimitable ages, 
 was there ever, or will there ever be such 
 a quartette gathered under one roof, in 
 one room (the Mermaid's) as that one 
 composed of Raleigh, Spenser, Marlowe, 
 and Shakespeare. 
 
 It was at the Hayes Farm, in Devon- 
 
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. II 
 
 shire, that Raleigh first saw the h'ght 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 lot 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 
 protege 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. I3 
 
 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. 1 5 
 
 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) Raleighs. 
 
 Every man who reads this, knows 
 that. 
 
 But worse followed, thanks to the 
 reptile Cecil : Raleigh was charged with 
 
1 6 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 having been at the head of a plot 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. 1 7 
 
 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 
 
1 8 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 marry his son Charles to the Infanta. 
 So he had Raleigh arrested on his return 
 to England, and on October 19, 161 8, 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 fifty 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. 
 
 19 
 
 a box of perfectos the night before he 
 left the world ! Well, maybe James the 
 First, his murderer, is compelled to 
 smoke ** two for five " where he is. 
 
20 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 Injins think " 
 
 Says Tom, "I'l! swear as they 
 Don't think at all. " Says Dick, " You're right ; 
 
 It aint their nat'ral way. 
 
THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO. 21 
 
 But I want to find out, my 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 rae 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 merry men ? " 
 
 And then, " Why, blame my eyes 1 
 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 Hawkins' gallant ship 
 
 Who found out Tobac-kee. 
 
 —Cigar and Tobacco Worlds 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 " {Nzcotzana)^ 
 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 v^as taking a stroll in the 
 country w^hen he saw a serpent, stiff with 
 cold, lying on the ground. He compas- 
 sionately took it up and v^armed 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. 2$ 
 
 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," s:aid 
 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 
 pecuHar expression when you irritate an- 
 other, that you ** put his pipe out." 
 
 — Marryafs ''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 Book. 
 
 —Richard Le Gallienne. 
 
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 incalcukble. 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. 29 
 
 open atop, and the air kept good), with 
 the obligation to a minhnum 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 (161 1). 
 
 A PIPE OF TOBACCO. 
 
 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 my little stopper press'd. 
 And the sweetest bliss of blisses. 
 Breathing from thy balmy kisses. 
 
30 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 ; 
 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. 3I 
 
 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 field, 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 ! 
 
 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. 
 From " 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 Slicky the ClockmakerJ' 
 
 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 nothings in the skies. 
 
 Tobacco smoke, like silken web. 
 
 Suspended in 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 PH'ILOSOPHY 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. 
 
36 
 
 POETRY OF SMOKE. 
 
 LATAKIA. 
 
 When all the panes are hung with frost, 
 
 Wild wizard-work of silver lace» 
 I draw my sofa on the rug, 
 ,. Before the ancient chimney-place. 
 Upon the 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 ! 
 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 .• 
 'Twould be a true Arabian night ! 
 
 — 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 dazzlingly when daring in full dress; 
 Yet thy true lovers more admire, by far, 
 Thy naked beauties— give me a cigar ! 
 —Lord Byron, 
 The Island^ Canto iiy Stanza iq. 
 
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 inan / " 
 
 —John Stanley Gregson. 
 
POETRY OF SMOKE. 39 
 
 A GOOD CIGAR. 
 
 Oh, 'tis well enough 
 A whiff or a puft" 
 
 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 energy 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. 4I 
 
 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 scalpings 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 verse 
 
 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 ! 
 
 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 v/ay. 
 
 While thou suck'st the laboring breath 
 
 Faster 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 heightening 
 
 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, 
 Such 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. 
 
46 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/a:r 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, — 
 
 From the scent of that good cigar. 
 
 — Kate A. Carrington. 
 
48 POETRY OF SMOKE. 
 
 IN THE OL' TOBACKER 
 PATCH. 
 
 I 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 livin' 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 you'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 I 
 
 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 ! 
 
50 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 
 afai", 
 And that's why I cherish it, almost with pride, 
 This poor, little, wasted, sad stub of cigar ! 
 — VOLNEY Streamer 
 July 2, 1889. 
 
POETRY OF SMOKE. $1 
 
 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 you^^self. 
 
 —Henry E. Brown. 
 
52 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. 
 
 Ckorus.— 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 French. 
 
 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, 1620. 
 
 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 again!' '* 
 
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 j 
 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. Lummis. 
 
 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. MUNKITTRICK. 
 
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 York^ 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 wail. 
 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 I 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh ! 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 y© bowle. 
 And may our blessings find him ! 
 That he not miss some share of blisse 
 Who left soe much behind him. 
 
 —Bernard Barker. 
 
POKTRY 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. 
 
 And 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 ! 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 waywardwise, 
 
 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. 
 
 You are at the dear old homestead 
 Where you spent those happy years ; 
 
64 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 ; 
 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 broke. 
 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 Stuyvesant, 
 
POETRY OF SMOKE. 6$ 
 
 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 ; 
 Plunge (after shocking lives) 
 Razors and carving knives 
 
 Into their gizzards : 
 
POETRY OF SMOKE. 67 
 
 Confound such knavish tricks I 
 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 thee, 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 doze, devoid of woes, 
 Of troubles, and of frets. 
 
 And let the chap who loves to nap 
 With 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 old bowl, to warm my soul, 
 
 A meerschaum, brown and ripe — 
 Nor 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 Tj'ibtme. 
 
 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 thine ; 
 Let her, when her lips I kiss. 
 Burn like thee, to give me bliss ; 
 
POETRY OF SMOKE. 6g 
 
 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. 
 
 —Ge?itlemafi's Magazi?ie. 
 
 A BACHELOR'S SOLILOQUY. 
 
 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, 
 
70 
 
 POETRY OF SMOKE. 
 
 To build my castles 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 ? 
 
 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. 
 
SMOKERS* STORIES. 7I 
 
 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 : 
 " 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 during 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 
 
 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 ! 1 
 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. 
 
 Cigar 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 a«id 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 smoke 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, sa3^s 
 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. 
 
8i 
 
 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, and 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 smoker's 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 a 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 
 Tod'Bonus, Ac A'FumuSf ^-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. 
 
84 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." 
 
 MAZZINrS 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. 
 
 Milton 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- 
 
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-tobacco?tzsts .'] 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 cheersJ] 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. 
 \Mur7nurs?^ 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. [Disfnay and confusion of 
 the anti-tobacconists. Roars of laugh- 
 ter from the smoker s,^ 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 
 
SMOKERS* STORIES. 9I 
 
 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 
 
 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 loved 
 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 Leyden 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, 
 
96 
 
 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 nae 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 in the form of what the French 
 
97 
 
 term caroiies, 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 fabrzcarz, domzna, sed 
 vereor ne ex tllo cdleos faczam." 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 
 
 tice. It is alike unclerical and uncleanly. 
 Tobacco! Why, my dear brother, even 
 a pig would not smoke so vile a v^^eed ! " 
 Brother G. delivered a mild outpouring 
 of tobacco-fumes, and 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. 
 
lOO 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, di^d 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. lOI 
 
 Wadd, in his Comments on Corpulency, 
 mentions an aged Effendi, " whose back 
 was 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 
 Oldy 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. 
 
102 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS, 
 
 SOME SALESMEN AND 
 OTHERS. 
 
 The typical traveling man knows how 
 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 en7iui. If she will only give 
 him a fair show he will surely hit upon 
 something to make her journey pleasant. 
 He knows everybody and eveiything 
 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 fivt as '* Exhibit A," " B," etc. 
 
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. I05 
 
 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 
 
I06 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 : 
 ** Char7ni7ig i^inovation. Fit 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 who knew 
 how to wear clothes without being con- 
 scious that he was " a man apart." 
 
SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. I07 
 
 " 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 stoiy 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 
 
I08 SOME SALESMEN AND OTHERS. 
 
 you insist, I will book it." That's his 
 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. I09 
 
 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 v^as 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 
 
no 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 
 w^hich 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^^/ 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. II3 
 
 " 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 day was 
 selling cigars as if nothing had happened. 
 
 " 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. II5 
 
 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 rambUng 
 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 
 
Il8 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 
 
120 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 
 Decamps, 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 b'ook 
 " 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 w^omen, 
 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 
 follov^ing 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. 
 
 LBJe12