124. Coarse hair indicates good nature; fine hair quick temper. Northern Ohio. 125. Red hair indicates a spit-fire. Massachusetts and Chestertown, Md. 126. Beware of that man, Be he friend or brother, W... Read more of Hair at Superstitions.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...



THE OLD CLAY PIPE.








There's a lot of solid comfort
In an old clay pipe, I find,
If you're kind of out of humor
Or in trouble in your mind.
When you're feeling awful lonesome
And don't know just what to do,
There's a heap of satisfaction
If you smoke a pipe or two.

The ten thousand pleasant memories
That are buried in your soul
Are playing hide and seek with you
Around that smoking bowl.
These are mighty restful moments:
You're at peace with all the world,
And the panorama changes
As the thin blue smoke is curled.

Now you cross the bridge of sorrows,
Now you enter pleasant lands,
And before an open doorway,
You will linger to shake hands
With a lithe and girlish figure
That is coming through the door;
Ah! you recognize the features:
You have seen that face before.

You are at the dear old homestead
Where you spent those happy years;
You are romping with the children;
You are smiling through your tears;
You have fought and whipped the bully
You are eight and he is ten.
Oh! how rapidly we travel,--
You are now a boy again.

You approach the open doorway,
And before the old armchair
You will stop and kiss the grandma,
You will smooth the thin white hair;
You will read the open Bible,
For the lamp is lit, you see.
It is now your hour for bed-time
And you kneel at mother's knee.

Still you linger at the hearthstone;
You are loath to leave the place.
When an apple cut's in progress:
You must wait and dance with Grace.

What's the matter with the music?
Only this: The pipe is broke,
And a thousand pleasant fancies
Vanish promptly with the smoke.

A.B. VAN FLEET.





Next: PERNICIOUS WEED!

Previous: THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.



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