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THE ORACLE ON 
 SMOKE 
 
 BEING A FEW UTTERANCES IN A SIM- 
 PLE AND NOT AT ALL DELPHIC 
 STYLE, WITH CERTAIN SO- 
 CALLED POEMS THERE 
 AMONG SCATTERED 
 
 ALL REPORTED AND WRIT BY 
 BERTON BRALET 
 
 Madison, Wisconsin 
 1905 
 

 A 
 
 ' LiUl^XsVY of JONGH Pr}3 
 fwo O'eoies rJeceivcu 
 
 JUN b 1^05 
 
 i/..i--.SS <*^ ^■;<:- '^Oi 
 
 Copyright 1905 
 
 BY 
 
 Berton Braley 
 
 Published by The Sphinx 
 Printed by the Parsons Printery 
 
?::j 
 
 TO 
 
 MY MOTHER, 
 
 WHOSE CURTAINS I HAVE SCENTED, 
 
 AND WHOSE 
 
 PATIENCE I HAVE TRIED 
 
 FOR 
 
 MANY YEARS 
 
 WITH 
 
 MUCH SMOKE; 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS 
 
 JOYFULLY DEDICATED. 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 AT THE THRESHOLD 
 
 Two of the Oracle's Talks (* On the Pipe ' and 'Sans 
 Nicotine ' ) as well as some of the verse, have appeared 
 in the Sphinx at divers times. The other matter herein 
 appearing has never before stood in type. 
 
 In all of it there is no purpose save to amuse the smoker 
 and give a genial word for man's devotion to the weed, 
 ** which combines the venom of the serpent with the com- 
 passion of the prophet." 
 
 And that no one may unjustly accuse me of" borrowed 
 ideas,'* I protest now that I have never read "My Lady 
 Nicotine." 
 
 B. B. 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 THE ORACLE ON CIGARS 
 
 " Undoubtedly/' said the Oracle, after he had passed 
 us all the cigar box, and was settled back in his ragged 
 Morris chair, ** undoubtedly I am fully qualified to dis- 
 sertate on the cigar in the most appreciative style, for I 
 so rarely am fortunate enough to have a fat brown weed 
 that my appreciation is enhanced by long abstinence, and 
 therefore, perhaps without warrant, I am prone to consider 
 the cigar as essentially a festive luxury, something that 
 goes with five course dinners and a feeling of contented 
 repletion. 
 
 " On such an occasion a fellow lolls lazily back in his 
 chair with his legs clear under the table, unbuttons his vest 
 and gazes on life through an aromatic, bluish haze which 
 throws a glamor over all things. The world's all right, 
 life' s worth living, success looms large through the smoke, 
 and the earth is but a plump cigar which you hold be- 
 tween strong fingers and fi-om which you draw content- 
 ment and plethoric dreams. You never noticed before 
 how kindly and genial are all the men in the room. That 
 man Brown whom you've always felt to be an ass is really 
 not half bad, and that story he's telling has a new glint 
 
6 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 of humor in it, a gleam of fun which you never noticed 
 on the ten previous occasions when Brown told it. And 
 Perkins, dissipated and profane Perkins, whom you've 
 always detested, why now that you study him through 
 the smoke, seems quite a different fellow; you feel cer- 
 tain that half the tales about him are mere venom from 
 his enemies, and you experience a certain slothflil indigna- 
 tion that so fine looking a man should be thus maligned. 
 
 ** Wrapped in the cloud of Nicotinian fragrance as you 
 are, you acquire for the time a certain easy tolerance and 
 kindly sympathy which make you kin with all mankind. 
 
 **I have seen sworn enemies, rivals in business and 
 love, society and politics, men who can say nothing bitter 
 or acrid enough about each other ordinarily, — I have seen 
 such men, when thrown together by chance in the same 
 smoke-filled room, melt from sullen silence to plastic com- 
 posure, and so finally to smiling conversation with the 
 very men they so long have tried to incinerate in the fur- 
 nace of their hatred. 
 
 Probably the next day will see them the same fleering 
 foes as usual, but that they for even a little space fore- 
 gathered in concord must be written fair for the magic of 
 the cigar. Sharp lines blur in smoke, sharp prejudices and 
 animosities soften. 
 
 ** Therefore, to gain the full benefit of a good cigar, one 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 7 
 
 should have eaten well and be among his kind. Thus at 
 least it runs with me; I glean no dreams of future or past 
 from a cigar; I build no castles in its smoke, but I be- 
 come instilled with a sense of loafing tenderness and warm 
 comradeship, with a glow of love and — but I am only 
 repeating myself. Not for long will this box of brown 
 beauties endure, and when they have taken to themselves 
 wings of blue smoke and fled into the circumambient ozone, 
 the gods alone are 'ware of when I shall have another 
 box. Which means in simple United States, that * Lord 
 knows when I shall get another.* 
 
 * ' Let us therefore enjoy the Gift of Fate to the utter- 
 most and waste no more smoke-scented moments in bab- 
 ble. There still remain a few cigars and I would have 
 you each take another. Here, fellows. '* 
 
 And the crowd continued, as the Oracle became, — 
 silent. 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 WHEN THE SMOKE'S A' CURLIN 
 ROUND 
 
 WHEN the ** shades of night have fallen," an' 
 the window shades have too. 
 When the radiator's hissin' as the steam goes 
 
 chuggin' through. 
 An* its comfy to be sprawln' in yer ragged 
 
 easy chair. 
 Just to lie at ease and listen to the sounds 
 
 about yuh there. 
 When ye' re sort' a kind' a drowsy and yuh 
 ain't a carin' much, 
 'Cept to lazy there a dreamin' dreams of happiness an' 
 
 such; 
 Then a feller sort' a lows he likes to be a "lazy hound," 
 An' to watch his pipe bowl gleamin' while the «moke's a' 
 curlin' round. 
 
 An' yuh lie there just a thinkin' thoughts as hazy as the 
 
 smoke. 
 Of the things yuh'd be a' doin* if yuh weren't so rotten 
 
 broke. 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 9 
 
 An' yer eyes is busy blinkin* at yer *< Castles built in 
 Spain," 
 
 Though they tumble down in ruin yuh can always build 
 again; 
 
 Then yuh get to kind a' rakin' up the things of long ago. 
 
 Things yuh thought yuh had forgotten, till yuh see them 
 come an' glow 
 
 In the bluish mist ye' re makin' — there's philosophy pro- 
 found. 
 
 In yer memories an' plottin' when the smoke's a' curlin' 
 round. 
 
 So outside yuh let men bicker, buy and sell, an' rise er fall. 
 While within yuh watch the changes in the smoke cloud 
 
 over all. 
 Watch the visions shift and flicker, see the faces form and 
 
 fade. 
 As yer foolish fancy ranges in the dreamland yuh have made. 
 Where is trouble, pain or sorrow? Here is nothing only 
 
 peace; 
 For the hosts of care must falter an' the little worries cease; 
 They may deafen yuh to-morrow but to-night they make 
 
 no sound. 
 Silenced at tobacco's alter, while the smoke's a' curlin' 
 
 round. 
 
lO 
 
 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 A PIPE TALK 
 
 *' A pipe," said the Oracle, as he filled his from a jar 
 on the table and borrowed a match from MacPherson; 
 **a pipe is the only proper smoke. To me, the essence 
 of smoking is its comradeship, and comradeship requires in- 
 dividuality. Now there's individuality to a pipe, there is 
 none to a cigar or a cigarette. A pipe gets to be an old 
 friend, it has a personality, a history, and v^hen you smoke 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE ii 
 
 it you feel as though you were talking over old times 
 with a tried and staunch old comrade. How much you 
 two have gone through together, you and that scorched 
 briar. Remember that time when you were in the log- 
 ging camp, that's when that little nick in the stem got 
 there; then the jagged scratch on the bowl came when 
 you were so nearly killed in that runaway. You look into 
 the bowl and notice for the five hundredth time the place 
 where you pried off a bit of the * cake ' to show Her how 
 much the pipe had been smoked, and you smile reminis- 
 cently as you remember how She held up Her finger at 
 you and said, < You naughty boy, Pm afraid you smoke 
 terribly.* 
 
 ** And you count the little dents in the pipe, which 
 appeared that day you threw it out of the window and 
 vowed you would quit for good, while you grin gleefully, 
 recalling how you chased out the next morning and hunted 
 for two hours until you finally found your strong old com- 
 rade and danced with joy at your success, and swore you'd 
 never quit again until you died. 
 
 <* But memoried joys are' not the only ones found in a 
 pipe. It gets to be almost a part of you as well as of 
 your history. How the stem settles itself comfortably in 
 its own space between your teeth, how the bowl grows 
 warm and shining in your supporting hand, and if it is a 
 
12 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 * bulldog ' how it nestles against your chin, as if it be- 
 longed there — as it does. 
 
 '* A pipe has moods, too — it is almost human in them. 
 Don't you know how it sometimes gets unaccountably 
 rank and bitter, and how, though you clean it and pet it 
 and pamper it with the mildest and sweetest of tobacco, it 
 still remains stubbornly ill-tempered? 
 
 **Then you lay it aside a bit, and behold it stops sulk- 
 ing and becomes cheery and pleasant again. And some- 
 times it takes on a glorious good humor which even the 
 worst tobacco cannot disturb, and then smoking it is verily 
 
 * the crown of pleasure,' for it soothes and caresses, and 
 warms the cockles of your heart with its rich and glowing 
 sweetness. 
 
 '* I have seen the world somewhat, my children'* and 
 the Oracle smiled benignly upon us, **I have tasted life 
 and its joys, I have known the fierce pleasure of combat 
 and the intoxicating glory of success, but at the last I find, 
 to quote my own famous verses: 
 
 I sought my heaven in books, and found but dust; 
 I sought for it in fame, and found but power; 
 I followed fortune and received a crust; 
 Love's gift to me was but a withered flower. 
 And then, my wisdom with the years grown ripe, 
 I sought my heaven and found it — in a pipe.'" 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 13 
 
 THE ORACLE SANS NICOTINE 
 
 "Dances,*' said the Oracle, reaching mechanically for 
 his pipe and then settling back into his chair as he remem- 
 bered that he had sworn off, '* are a convenient method 
 of going broke; they are — '* 
 
 **You said that last night, Oracle,'' interrupted the 
 Engineer, ** for heavens sake give us something new; it's 
 bad enough to hsten to your futile burblings anyhow, and 
 when you begin to repeat — " 
 
 " Well what if I do," said the Oracle, irritably, and 
 the gang looked startled, for the Oracle was wont to be 
 serenely oblivious to criticism, '*it's worth repeating, 
 which can't be said of the puerile twaddle you usually 
 manufacture as conversation. Now you choke off or I'll 
 hand you a good stiff one in the laths; — Dances are a 
 convenient method — hang it, Peters, quit twiddling your 
 thumbs! you'd drive a camel to drink! Bangs, can't you 
 leave your watch chain alone? You fellows get on my 
 nerves with your eternal fidgets!" 
 
 It was plain that the Oracle felt nervous and we won- 
 dered. 
 
 "Oracle," ventured the Engineer, tentatively, "why 
 
14 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 is this whichness? Whither has fled thine old time in- 
 souciance? Wherefore — " 
 
 '* Oh head in on that archaic rot and — damn it; Pet- 
 ers, if you can't keep your foot still for at least one second, 
 cut it off! You all act like a lot of uneasy angle worms! 
 Where was I at? Oh yes, dances are a con — '* 
 
 * Fidence game on the unwary bachelor,' — say that 
 for the sake of variety, Oracle, the other is somewhat 
 hackneyed and — " 
 
 ** Say, I wish you fellows would reserve your face- 
 tiousness for the eager ears of your super-educated friends. 
 I for one find my rude and undeveloped intellect unequal 
 to the strain of following your subtleties. — Ticks, why 
 the deuce don't you clean that pipe in your own room? 
 Do you think I can sit here and watch that nauseating — 
 Say Bangs, imagine you have the tetanus for ten seconds, 
 and desist from that mastication of tooth -picks; you've got 
 more senseless, foolish, childish, infantile, idiotic man- 
 nerisms than any one I ever had the misfortune to know! 
 Ugh! 
 
 ** Well, to continue — dances are useful and democratic 
 institutions; that as a general statement, requires elucida- 
 tion, and my arguments based upon this postulate unfold 
 much as follows — " 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 15 
 
 The Oracle paused, malignantly gazed at the Engineer 
 who was drawing tit-tat-toe marks on a calling card, and 
 then reached for his pipe, filled it, lit a match, but remem- 
 bering his vow, laid the companion of his heart aside, and 
 wearily sank back in his chair. 
 
 '*Fellows,'* said the Oracle, ** smoke up! I may have 
 quit, but I want to catch the old homely whifF of Durham 
 again, for I have been marooned on the altar of self-sac- 
 rifice overlong. I guess maybe that's why everything 
 makes me jump like a hair-spring charged with electricity/' 
 
 The scent of burning tobacco from three pipes and two 
 cigarettes floated across the room to the immolated Oracle, 
 and his eyes closed in beatific peace. Then he reached 
 guiltily for his pipe and put it in his mouth. *< Just a dry 
 smoke, boys," he said in an unconvinced sort of tone, and 
 the gang winked portentously, ** Let's see, where was 1} 
 oh yes; arguments unfold as follows — " 
 
 There was the rasp of a match and Bangs held the 
 blazing bit of pine just above the Oracle's pipe; the Oracle 
 shook his head, but his eyes hungrily watched the flame 
 eat along until only an inch of the match was left, and 
 then his left eyelid slowly slid down over that eager orb 
 and he drew deeply and joyously on the battered mouth- 
 piece of the pipe as Bangs dropped the still burning match 
 
1 6 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 on the charred bowl. The Oracle blew a cloud of smoke 
 at the pipe rack just above his chair. 
 
 ** Smoking,'* said the Oracle, with a luxurious sigh, 
 " is the habit of Philosophers." 
 
 "But go on with your dissertation upon Dances" said 
 the Engineer, graciously. 
 
 ** Dances" quoth the Oracle, *<are to be danced, not 
 philosophised upon." 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 17 
 
 WHIFFS FROM THE ORACLE'S 
 CIGARETTE 
 
 
 ** As a man of the world,'* said the Oracle, rolling his 
 ninth after-supper cigarette, ** I am aware that a prejudice 
 against these dainty tubes exists, but as a scientist and a 
 
1 8 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 cigarette smoker I believe it my duty to defend the much- 
 attacked *cofSn-nails.' 
 
 *< And in doing this I shall disregard all the puerile ac- 
 cusations so often burbled forth, and expatiate only on the 
 / virtues of the * dude stick,* as crack-brained adversaries 
 vapidly term it. There come times in every man's life 
 vv^hen a short smoke is a thing most avidly to be desired, yet 
 when a pipe w^ould be a reeking offense and a cigar a 
 riotous extravagance; what then? shall the hankering mortal 
 still hank or shall he take the * making's' or his case from 
 his pocket and inhale a few heaven-savoring whiffs? Surely 
 the latter, for thus shall he save himself from the nervous 
 grouchiness of self denial, or the folly of a cigar four-fifths 
 wasted. 
 
 *< Then for the man who rolls his own smokes there is 
 a certain pride of workmanship in creating them when he 
 is alone, and a certain time filling pause in constructing 
 them when he is in the throes of * frissing,' which com- 
 pensate for many ills whose parentage is laid to these * boy 
 killers.' 
 
 *< And when She, with dainty but unskilled hands, 
 strives to roll a real cigarette for you, what a smile of ab- 
 sorbed anticipation and condescension overspreads your 
 face, and ho ambrosial to the taste and aromatic to the 
 nostrils is the limp and amatuerish product of Her en- 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 19 
 
 deavor. Then you begin to roll another with consciously 
 unconscious ease and you swell up mightily when She says, 
 * Oh how cleverly you do things ! why it looks just awfully 
 easy, but I can't seem to make them at all.' 
 
 *' Of course you proceed at once to tell Her, < it's just 
 a matter of practice, you see I smoke so much that I 
 can't afford to buy made cigarettes, in fact I believe I 
 smoke too much,' proving this assertion by a display of 
 much yellowed fingers at which she inveighs n half awed 
 disapproval* 
 
 ** But after all, with me at least, it is in the 
 quiet of my room, when my brain is fagged and my pipe 
 gone foul, that I love the cigarette best. There is such 
 loUing content in merely watching the thin band of smoke 
 which streams up from the burning end, and such lazy 
 acuteness in noting how the thread like smoke from the 
 paper curls itself into intricate filigree work as it gets away 
 from its source, and how the blue from the tobacco breaks 
 from a ribbon into a formless hazy cloud and then melts 
 into nothingness. 
 
 "The dreams and reveries that come to me with a 
 cigarette are those only of past delights and folhes, of 
 dances and flirtations, of whispered nothings and easily 
 won and hghtly given kisses, of frivolous and fickle maids 
 
20 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 whose eyes have sparkled for me, and of all the airy frip- 
 peries that have sprightlified existence. 
 
 *< With a pipe I will dream of comradeship and work 
 and sorrow, of pain borne patiently and joy won through 
 toil and struggle, — a cigarette brings back only the dreams 
 that are trivial, though smile-sufFused. 
 
 **But the final canonization of the cigarette, the most abso- 
 lute fitness in its use, is when it gleams in a woman's 
 hand or between her lips. 
 
 ** No Puritan I. Let the woman be piquant, pert and 
 pretty, let her be gowned in taking wise, and let her 
 smoke only the best Egyptians with her monogram in gold 
 thereon, and I will fall down and worship. If it please 
 her Majesty to blow fragrant rings and aureolize her beauty 
 in a mist of smoke, I will respect her none the less, and if 
 she wafts graceful exhalations fi-om temptingly pursed up 
 hps and with a languorous deftness I will proclaim her the 
 apotheosis of the smoker. 
 
 **As my friend Horatio Winslow says, a little too 
 rakishly perhaps, 
 
 * She hates conventionality. 
 
 She' s different from the rest. 
 
 She scorns a mere formahty. 
 She likes a piquant jest. 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 21 
 
 She knows a thing 
 
 or two or more. 
 You needn't say it 
 
 twice. 
 Perhaps you've met 
 
 that sort before — 
 She's naughty, but 
 
 but she's nice! 
 
 " 'Her feelings are 
 devotional 
 
 Toward Turkish 
 cigarettes, 
 y Impulsive and emo- 
 tional. 
 
 She loves and 
 smokes and bets, 
 
 She's played most every sort of game 
 She doesn't take advice. 
 
 And people say — but just the same. 
 She's naughty, but she's nice! 
 
22 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 * ** There isn*t much satiety 
 
 When you're around with her. 
 She's brimming with variety. 
 
 She's different as it were; 
 And here's to her, the patron saint 
 
 Of cigarettes and dice. 
 She's not demure nor shy nor quaint. 
 
 She's naughty — but she's nice.' " 
 
 The Oracle looked at the row of "butts" on the ash 
 tray before him, sighed dubiously, then turned to the En- 
 gineer, — 
 
 « " A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure, 
 it is exquisite and it leaves you unsatisfied,' lend me the 
 materials, will you, McPherson? " 
 
 LofC. 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 23 
 
 An <f^ j^e AC t /"fi /^ e Wo rfj '/ -f «jn^ 
 
 An J T w4 /c~X //■ Aujf'/c ^y 
 
24 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 MY OLD COB PIPE 
 
 You may talk about your cigarettes and fifty cent cigars. 
 Your water pipes and briars, and your meerchaums and the 
 
 rest. 
 With your extra blend tobacco and your silver mounted 
 
 jars. 
 But just and old-time corn cob pipe is what I love the best. 
 With some double charged tobacco that is strong and old 
 
 and ripe. 
 And I'll get a whiff of heaven from my old cob pipe. 
 
 When the winter winds are shrieking and the snow drift 
 
 blocks the door, 
 I take my old companion, and we settle by the fire. 
 And I tell my pipe my troubles, till they trouble me no 
 
 more. 
 For he speaks a silent language and his sayings never tire. 
 He's a comforter and helper of a rare and valued type. 
 And the world has seemed the sweeter for my old cob pipe. 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 25 
 
 Oh he loves the books I care for, and I sometimes think 
 
 he knows 
 How my Kipling stirs the spirit, how my Dobson warms 
 
 the heart. 
 And the faithfiil spark within him like a distant camp fire 
 
 glows. 
 When the masters swinging rhythm sings of field and town 
 
 and mart. 
 Yes my pipe and I are comrades of a most congenial stripe 
 So I love and loaf and labor with my old cob pipe. 
 
 But most and best I love him when amidst his smoke I see 
 The vision of the maiden who is soon to be my wife. 
 Yet a little pang of sadness even then comes over me 
 Despite the gladsome promise of a happiness for life 
 And furtively from off my cheek a trickling tear I wipe. 
 For I've promised her to quit you now — my old cob pipe. 
 
26 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 THE ORACLE ON MOODS 
 
 The room was in the usual smoke-house condition, with 
 incense ascending from a collection of Durham-fed or 
 Arcadia-filled pipes, from '* home and tailor-made cigar- 
 ettes,'* and from one lone cigar which pertained to the 
 plutocrat of the crowd. 
 
 The Oracle surveyed the gang with satisfaction, 
 
 <* Rather an intelligent audience I have tonight,'* he 
 beamed, **not quite worthy to hear my utterances, of 
 course, but fairly appreciative and not entirely obtuse; I 
 am well pleased. 
 
 *' My mood is most pleasurable tonight anyhow, and I 
 am easily pleased, my gregarious instincts are dominant 
 and it does me good to look upon the faces of both friend 
 and foe, they all look good to me, — chuck the pained ex- 
 pression, well I ken that I have no foes in this bunch, 
 you're all tolerant comrades whom I love much, — and 
 this general feeling of good will which permeates me is 
 mostly the result of my Lady Nicotine's gracious mood. 
 She has today blessed my lot with flawless smokes; my 
 pipes have been sweet and mellow, burning evenly with a 
 gentle warmth and giving forth smoke which savors of the 
 
THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 27 
 
 sunny south whence the tobacco has come. My cigar- 
 ettes have almost rolled themselves, not a paper has broken, 
 not a whiff but has been goodly. The two cigars which 
 generous friends have this day given me were fat and 
 richly satisfying, and during all the hours no match has 
 failed in its incendiary duty. I have been gorgeously happy 
 and without care. 
 
 ** Such moods come but seldom, the gods dare not 
 make them more frequent lest many such plenteous hours 
 change us all to indolent though contented dawdlers. 
 Therefore the dieties usually incite her Nicotinian Lady- 
 ship to practice many an irritating caprice; our pipes grow 
 rank and our cigarettes part and disintegrate and no kind 
 friends come nigh with portly cigars. 
 
 ** Sometimes these whims affect us not at all, or slightly, 
 and we dream our dreams or chat in utter obliviousness to 
 the guttering of ill-tempered pipes or the crumbling of 
 recalcitrant * nails.* 
 
 ** But oftenest these little rifts turn our souls bitter (I 
 know that figure is mixed), and amid the sour profanity 
 of our grouch the Lady Nicotine can soothe us not at all. 
 
 * * Tonight, as I said before, my mood is as social as my 
 discourse is wandering, and the Lady has seen fit to make 
 the day tobaccistically perfect. Tomorrow my mood may 
 be merely ruminant, in which case I shall wish only to be 
 
28 THE ORACLE ON SMOKE 
 
 alone with my visions, my reveries, my pipe and my to- 
 bacco jar, if one can be alone w^ith such a plenitude of 
 companionship; and a day or two hence the mood may 
 again shift to the gregarious or at least the * spoonarious,' 
 when I shall yearn to lounge at Her feet before the fire 
 and with no one to dispute or share my comfort, gaze up 
 at Her through the thin wreathes from my pipe. 
 
 ** These are the smoker's moods, at any rate these are 
 mine, and though in my devious discursiveness tonight my 
 .words seem without purpose, order or coherence; seem as 
 casual as the curls of smoke about our heads, nathless I 
 have spoken Truth, and if it be formless I care no jot, 
 since my day has been and is one of lazy content and idle 
 self-satisfaction. 
 
 ** Now my dictums are done and we will close the day 
 with song. 
 
 Smoke up! and care not for the past, its days are dead 
 and done. 
 
 Smoke up! nor heed the present for its skein is nearly 
 spun. 
 
 Smoke up ! nor fear the future, for little gain is there — 
 
 Smoke up! with good tobacco for it smothers all our 
 care." 
 
w 
 
 ,1905