70 AN OCTOGENANIAN SMOKER. 



heart was as warm and genial as it was long, long ago ; and 

 cheerfulness, calm and chastened, marked as it had for years 

 the conversation of a man who felt that his mission in life 

 was accomplished. 'Why,' said he, addressing me, as a new 

 thought seemed to strike him, ' why, your head is growing 

 grey I I never noticed it before. It is almost as white as 

 mine. Well, well !' he continued, as he tapped the thumb 

 nail of his left hand with the inverted bowl of his pipe, knock- 

 ing the ashes from it as he spoke, ' well, well I it won't be 

 Jong until we will have smoked our last pipe. Mine, at 

 least, will soon be broken. But what of that ? Seventy- 

 eight years is a long time to live in this world. I have 

 had my share of life and of the good pertaining to it, and 

 shall have no right to complain when my pipe is broken 

 and its ashes scattered.' Such was the philosophy of an 

 almost Octogenarian smoker." 



"I move for a suspension of sentence," said Smith, 

 " Spalding's defence of the weed, induces me to withdraw 

 the indictment against it, leaving punishment only for the 

 excessive use of it." 



The motion was carried unanimously, and by way of con- 

 firming the decision, we all refilled our pipes and smoked 

 till the stars looked down in their brightness from the 

 fathomless depths of the sky. 



