TOBACCO LEAVES 



a splinter off of him before closing trade 

 and see that he is sure enough wood." 



The gentleman who undertook this in- 

 teresting and delicate mission had a vague 

 idea that he could encounter a wooden 

 Indian on almost any corner in the busi- 

 ness district. What, therefore, was his 

 amazement to learn that wooden Indians 

 had long since disappeared from the haunts 

 of commerce. 



" You might as well look for a plesiosau- 

 rus in Lake Pontchartrain," said a scien- 

 tific friend. " The wooden Indian has be- 

 come entirely extinct." 



However, after a long and patient 

 search, one lone survivor was discovered. 

 He was found guarding the entrance of 

 a tobacco store on Camp Street, and it 

 needed no second glance to determine that 

 he was a relic from the remote and legend- 

 ary past. In spite of fresh war paint and 

 varnish, he carried abundant evidences of 



188 



