52 TOBACCO. 



CIGAB-MAKING. 



The New York Tribune informs us that five 

 eighths of the cigars sold in the metropolis are 

 made in east-side tenements by Bohemian families, 

 the work being done in the room where they eat 

 and sleep. The tobacco, wet and spread on the 

 floor, is trodden down by the family while about 

 their domestic employment. In the morning, 

 damp and dirty, it is stripped from the stems by 

 the children, the women making the fillers, and the 

 men rolling and finishing at the rate of seven hun- 

 dred a day. A choice foreign brand is affixed, and 

 they are ready to go forth on their errand of de- 

 struction. Day and night these children exist — 

 not live — in this dreadful atmosphere. Will not 

 the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Chil- 

 dren interfere in their behalf ? 



A German smoker in New York, while using a 

 razor, slightly cut his lip. In a few days the 

 wound assumed the appearance of an ulcer, which 

 the medical attendant knew to be scrofulous. The 

 whole lower lip became affected with a repulsive 

 outgrowth, while the gums were greatly swollen, 

 and the teeth loose, ready to drop out. Learning 

 where the German purchased his cigars, the doctor 

 called at the tenement. The mystery was solved. 

 The man was finishing, "with a lick and a stick" 

 a bundle of fresh leaves, while on his lip was a 

 scrofulous sore. His son, too, working by his side, 

 had a similar sore. Nor was this instance ex- 



