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Updated: June 18, 2025
In our railroad cars smokers have to separate themselves from wives, children, and friends and go by themselves into a smoking-car or apartment, and why? simply because tobacco smoke is unpleasant to every man, woman, and child who is not accustomed to it; and the smoker's breath often smells so strong of the smoke when his cigar is gone that it is exceedingly unpleasant to sensitive persons.
A stranger entered. Sherlaw Kombs did not change his lounging attitude. "I wish to see Mr. Sherlaw Kombs, the detective," said the stranger, coming within the range of the smoker's vision. "This is Mr. Kombs," I remarked at last, as my friend smoked quietly, and seemed half-asleep. "Allow me to introduce myself," continued the stranger, fumbling for a card. "There is no need.
It was actually touching the foremost feature on the smoker's countenance. I expected to see it grip the wretched Bob, when it began to oscillate from side to side. Its oscillations increased in violence. It fell to the floor. That same instant the narcotic prevailed. Bob slipped sideways from the chair, the pipe still held tightly between his rigid jaws. We were silent. There lay Bob.
Shoot her t'other husband and take his scalp den she come into my wigwam." "The wretch!" exclaimed Margery. But this was a word the savage did not understand, and he continued to puff at the newly lighted tobacco, with all of a smoker's zeal. When the fire was secured, he found time to continue the subject. "Yes, dat good war-path got rifle; got wife; got TWO scalp! Don't do so well, ebbery day."
"Velly special chop!" He passed from bunk to bunk, and presently came to a comatose Chinaman from whose limp hand, which hung down upon the floor, the pipe had dropped. This pipe Ah-Fang-Fu took from the smoker's fingers and returning to the box upon which the tin lamp was standing began calmly to load it. "Good heavens!" muttered Stuart "he is short of pipes! Pah! how the place reeks!"
Some carried what might be called the smoker's complete outfit, a pipe, tobacco, a pricker with which to clean the tube, a silver net for protecting the bowl, and a box of the strongest of brimstone-matches. A true Dutchman, you must remember, is rarely without his pipe on any possible occasion. He may, for a moment, neglect to breathe; but, when the pipe is forgotten, he must be dying, indeed.
A dozen torches were stuck into the ground above the crumbling ledge; she saw the flames as one sees a burning match cupped in a smoker's hands, shedding light upon nothing save that which stands immediately behind it. She choked a little. Her eyes smarted. Her lips were slightly cracked, and cold-cream seemed only to provide a surer resting place for the impalpable dust.
"Calling the guard, I told him what had occurred, and demanded that the smoker's name and address be taken. "'Yes, sair, said the guard, and hurried away. In a little while he returned. He seemed rather awed and, bending over me, said apologetically: "'Do you know, sir, if I were you I would not prosecute that gent. He has just given me his card. Here it is. He is Mr. Andrew Carnegie."
Doubtless there is some courage required in learning to smoke, and so much, but it is not much, is to the smoker's credit; but for the rest, smoking and drinking are simply forms of self-indulgence, and though they are doubtless very excusable and are often practised by splendid men, they are of no virtue in themselves.
The five men dropped their tools. They gathered their lunches together and fell to a voracious feeding. At last, pipes appeared. They stretched themselves to the smoker's ease. For a while, the silence was unbroken. Then, here and there, somebody dropped an irrelevant remark. Nobody answered it. They lay in one corner of the big space which had been cleared from the jungle chaos.
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