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I am still under lasting obligations to a man who, at a boarding-house in which I sojourned for but three days, forced on me a pipeful of an extremely choice and luxurious kind of tobacco, to dilate on the properties of which he came and smoked about a quarter of a pound of it in my room that very evening, and far on into the morning light.
He played "Little Drops o' Brandy" three times, right through, without variations, blinking solemnly the while; then he put the violin carefully back in its box, and started to cut up another pipeful. "You should have gone, Johnny," said the haggard little woman. "Rackin' the horse out a night like this," retorted Johnny, "and startin' ploughin' to-morrow. It ain't worth while.
By-and-bye, without any relevancy at all, he said abruptly, "If a little sooner she had come aho!" For a moment I could not think what he meant; but soon I saw. "The palace would have been burnt if the girl in scarlet had come sooner eh?" I asked. "She would have urged the people on?" "And Bigot burnt, too, maybe," he answered. "Fire and death eh?" I offered him another pipeful of tobacco.
I find myself without the requisite for my normal bedtime solace; and I am unusually wakeful. Could you spare me a pipeful of tobacco?" "Certainly! Why did n't you mention it before? I had no idea you were a smoker. I feel really vexed at your reticence." "Well, Mr. Thompson kindly lent me a supply this morning; but, unfortunately, I had a hole in my pocket that I was not aware of, and Thanks.
If we had but a cup of sack, now, or a glass of good ale, and a pipeful of tobacco? "What! you have an abundance of the fragrant weed in your pouch? Sir, I thank you very heartily! You entertain me like a prince.
"I knew a man once who smoked one little pipeful of it, and, while under its influence, sat down at his table and wrote a story of the supernatural order that was so good that everybody said he must have stolen it from Poe or some other master of the weird, and now nobody will have anything to do with him. Tobacco, however, in the sane use of it, is a good thing.
Looking over when he had finished that pipeful I had not drawn my curtain he caught my eyes on him. He smiled, but said nothing only lit another pipeful, and kept on smoking. I fell asleep watching him fell asleep and woke again. He must have been watching me, for his eyes were on mine when I looked for him again. He smiled and shook his pipe out, and made as though to turn in.
"Oh, yes," cried the Lad scornfully, "she'll take me when she can't get a man!" The Skeptic's shoulders heaved as he turned away to cough violently. Evidently he had swallowed a pipeful of smoke. The Philosopher abruptly removed his hand from the Lad's shoulder and dropped down on the porch step, where his face was hidden from the bright young eyes above him. I shook my head at Lad.
This old native had been several times seen in the vicinity of the camp, but he never seemed to speak to any one, and he looked so harmless that the police did not even trouble to ask him for the written pass which all natives are obliged by law to carry when they move about the country. The old man saluted Langley and asked in his own language for a pipeful of tobacco.
A kind of herb tobacco is made of the dried leaves, mixed with a little rosemary to prevent nausea, and a pipeful is smoked in the evening before going to bed. The practice should be continued for some time, or as often as asthma returns, and it will afford very sensible relief.
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