"I knew, by the smoke that so lazily curled
From his lips, 'twas a loafer I happened to meet;
And I said, "If a nuisance there be in the world,
'Tis the smoke of cigars on a frequented street."
"It was night, and the ladies were gliding around,
And in many an eye shone the glittering tear;
But the loafer puffed on, and I heard not a sound,
Save the sharp, barking cough of each smoke-stricken dear."
[Illustration: THE SMOKER.]
Here is a "blow" from Horace Greeley. "I do not say that every chewer or
smoker is a blackguard; but show me a blackguard who is not a lover of
tobacco, and I will show you two white blackbirds." Good enough for
Horace.
Now, admitting that there are gentlemen who smoke and chew on the streets,
how are ladies, or the people, to know that they are such, since the
loafer, the blackguard, the thief, the pickpocket, the profaners of God's
name (all), the blackleg, the murderers bear the same insignia of their
profession? At one time, every man incarcerated in the Connecticut state
prison was a tobacco-user; nearly all, also, at the Maine, Vermont, and
Massachusetts prisons.
It is quite lamentable to see how liable tobacco-using is to convert a
thorough gentleman into a selfish, dirty blackguard, who will promenade
the streets, chatting with some boon companion, while the pair go
recklessly along, blowing their offensive smoke directly into ladies'
faces, their ashes into their beautiful eyes, and spitting their filthy
saliva directly or indirectly over costly dresses, thinking only of self!