GARIBALDI IN AMERICA.
After wandering about Italy as an exile for some months, the bold
patriot came to America and opened a cigar shop. The writer
remembers entering his shop one day to purchase a genuine
meerschaum, and discovering, afterwards, that it was made of
plaster of Paris, and smelt--when heated--like ancient sour-krout
flavored with lamp-oil. Garibaldi also sold the finest Habana
cigars ever made on Staten Island, one brand of which was so strong
in its integrity that it once defeated dishonesty, thus:
One night, while Garibaldi was praying for his beloved Italy, at
the house of a friend, a burglar broke into his store, with the
intention of robbing it. The scoundrel broke open the till, took
out all the city money (he refused to take anything but current
funds), and then broke open a box of the cigars strong in their
integrity, intending to have a quiet smoke before he left. Alas!
for him.
When Garibaldi opened the store in the morning, he found the
burglar laying on his back, with a cigar in his mouth, and _too
weak to move_! In the attempt to smoke the cigar, he had drawn his
back bone clear through until it caught on his breast bone, and the
back of his head was just breaking through the roof of his mouth,
when the patriot found him. He was taken to the police-office, and
discharged by the first alderman that came along. Such is life!
When the Emperor of France commenced his war with Austria,
Garibaldi suddenly appeared at one of the elbows of the Mincio, and
having passed around the Great Quadrilateral, headed a select body
of Alpine shepherds, and charged the Austrians more than they could
pay. All the world knows how that war ended. The emperors of France
and Austria signed a treaty by which each was compelled to go back
to his own country, tell his subjects that it was "all right," and
set all the wise men of the nation to discover what he had been
fighting about. Sardinia was not asked to give an opinion. About
this time Garibaldi was left out in the cold.