Cigars 185 



out tearing it — a feat only accomplished quickly 

 after great experience — and passes it on to her 

 partner, who removes the mid-rib. 



The leaves are next sorted by men into capa 

 (wrappers) and tripa (filling). A single glance at a 

 leaf reveals to the escojedor whether it is suitable for 

 a wrapper, or must be condemned to form the interior 

 of the cigar. 



Around the walls of the same sorting-room are 

 about twenty small tables, standing in a good light. 

 At each table sits a torcedor, or twister, the actual 

 maker of the cigar. Before him lie two heaps, the 

 smaller of capa, the bigger being tripa. Taking up 

 a capaA&zX, he cuts it with his knife to form the out- 

 side wrapper of the cigar, making the most of the tip, 

 which is the best part, that near the stem being the 

 worst. He is an expert in everything relating to 

 tobacco, and can adjudge the virtues of a leaf at a 

 glance. Having cut the wrapper, he with mechanical 

 accuracy takes the exact quantity of tripa, twists it 

 round with the capa in his long, supple fingers, and 

 the result is a cigar. There is not a knife-cut about 

 it ; his fingers are the only instruments. Watching 

 the torcedor rolling out cigars with unerring fingers, 

 one is convinced of the fact that the process is not 

 one of skill, but art magic — a piece of magnificent 

 jugglery. A clever workman turns out three or four 

 hundred cigars a day; the twist which he gives 

 to secure the tip of the cigar is absolutely inimitable 

 by all other makers, and renders Havanas unique. 

 The escojedores, to whom the responsible and delicate 

 task of selecting the leaves is entrusted, earn from 



