Half a pound of sweet almonds, which will be reduced to a quarter of a pound, when shelled and blanched. An ounce of blanched bitter almonds or peach-kernels. The whites only, of six eggs. A quarter of a pound of butter. A quarter of a ... Read more of A CHEESECAKE at Home Made Cookies.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...



MY CIGARETTE.








Ma pauvre petite,
My little sweet,
Why do you cry?
Why this small tear,
So pure and clear,
In each blue eye?

"My cigarette--
I 'm smoking yet?"
(I'll be discreet.)
I toss it, see,
Away from me
Into the street.

You see I do
All things for you.
Come, let us sup.
(But, oh, what joy
To be that boy
Who picked it up.)

TOM HALL.





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Previous: THE DUET.



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