

NEW CROP OF TOBACCO POETRY. 143 



A FREE PUFF." 



Do you remember when first we met ? 

 I was turning twenty well ! I don't forget 

 How I walked along 

 Humming a song, 

 Across the fields and down the lane 

 By the country road and back again 

 To the dear old farm three miles or more 

 And brought you home from the village store. 

 Summer was passing don't you recall 

 The splendid harvest we had that fall, 

 And how when the autumn died sober and 



brown 

 We trudged down the turnpike, and on to the 



town ? 



Sweet black briarwood Pipe of mine ! 

 If you were human you'd be half divine, 

 For when I've looked beyond the smoke, into 



your burning bowl. 

 In times of need, 

 You've been, indeed, 



The only comfort, sweetest solace, of my over- 

 flowing soul. 

 We've been together nearly thirty years, old 



fellow ! 

 And now, you must admit, we're both a trifle 



mellow. 

 We have had our share of joys and a deal of 



sorrows ; 

 And while we're only waiting for a few more 



to-morrows, 





