\\\f -UNIVERJ//, A\lOS-ANGElj> <2 ^\*-v v% < g %jtx> il THIRD REVERIE A Cigar Three Times Lighted " About what, pray ?" said my aunt. "About Love," said I. Page 4 Ovtr Hit Cigar FROM REVERIES OF A BACHELOR BY IK. MARVEL (DONALD G. MITCHELL) R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 18 EAST SEVENTEENTH ST., NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1907 BY R. F. FENNO & COMPANY Stack Annex Over His Cigar I DO not believe that there was ever an Aunt Tabithy who could abide cigars. My Aunt Tabithy hated them with a peculiar hatred. She was not only insensible to the rich flavor of a fresh rolling volume of smoke, but she could not so much as tolerate the sight of the rich russet color of an Havana-labeled box. It put her out of all conceit with Guava jelly, to find it advertised in the same tongue, and with the same Cuban coarseness of design. She could see no good in a cigar. " But by your leave, my aunt," said I to her, the other morning " there is very much that is good in a cigar." My aunt, who was sweeping, tossed her head, and with it, her curls done up in paper. " It is a very excellent matter," continued I, puffing. " It is dirty," said my aunt. " It is clean and sweet," said I ; "and a most pleasant soother of disturbed feelings ; and a 3 \>er Ibis Cigar ! capital companion ; and a comforter " and I stopped to puff. " You know it is a filthy abomination," said my aunt " and you ought to be " and she stopped to put up one of her curls, which with the energy of her gesticulation, had fallen out of its place. " It suggests quiet thoughts " continued I " and makes a man meditative ; and gives a current to his habits of contemplation as I can show you," said I, warming with the theme. My aunt, still fingering her papers with the pin in her mouth gave a most incredulous shrug. I " Aunt Tabithy " said I, and gave two or three violent, consecutive puffs "Aunt Tabithy, I can make up such a series of reflec- I tions out of my cigar, as would do your heart : : good to listen to 1 " "About what, pray?" said my aunt, con- temptuously. " About love," said I, " which is easy enough lighted, but wants constancy to keep it in a glow or about matrimony, which has a great deal of fire in the beginning, but it is a fire vcr 1bl0 (Hoar that consumes all that feeds the blaze o: about life," continued I, earnestly " which the first is fresh and odorous, but ends shortly in a withered cinder, that is fit only for the ground." My aunt who was forty and unmarried, finished her curl with a flip of the fingers re- sumed her hold of the broom, and leaned her chin upon one end of it, with an expression of some wonder, some curiosity, and a great deal of expectation. I could have wished my aunt had been a little less curious, or that I had been a little C less communicative: for though it was all honestly said on my part, yet my contempla- tions bore that vague, shadowy, and delicious sweetness, that it seemed impossible to them into words least of all, at the bidding^ of an old lady, leaning on a broom-handle. " Give me time, Aunt Tabithy," said I ' good dinner, and after it a good cigar, and will serve you such a sunshiny sheet of reverie, all twisted out of the smoke, as will make your kind old heart ache ! " Aunt Tabithy, in utter contempt, either of my mention of the dinner, or of the smoke, or 0ver Ibis Cigar of the old heart, commenced sweeping furi- ously. " If I do not " continued I, anxious to ap- pease her "if I do not, Aunt Tabithy, it shall be my last cigar (Aunt Tabithy stopped sweeping) ; and all my tobacco money (Aunt Tabithy drew near me), shall go to buy ribbons for ray most respectable, and worthy Aunt Tabithy ; and a kinder person could not have them ; or one," continued I, with a gen- erous puff, " whom they would more adorn." My Aunt Tabithy gave me a half-playful half-thankful nudge. It was in this way that our bargain was struck ; my part of it is already stated. On her part, Aunt Tabithy was to allow me, in case of my success, an evening cigar un- molested, upon the front porch, underneath her favorite rose-tree. It was concluded, I say, as I sat; the smoke of my cigar rising gracefully around my Aunt Tabithy's curls ; our right hands joined ; my left was holding my cigar, while in hers, was tightly grasped her broom-stick. And this reverie, to make the matter short, is what came of the contract. 6 ver tots digar LIGHTED WITH A COAL I TAKE up a coal with the tongs, and setting the end of my cigar against it, puff and puff again ; but there is no smoke. There is very little hope of lighting from a dead coal no more hope, thought I than of kindling one's heart into flame, by contact with a dead heart. To kindle, there must be warmth and life ; and I sat for a moment, thinking even before I lit my cigar on the vanity and folly of those poor, purblind fellows, who go on puffing for half a lifetime, against dead coals. It is to be hoped that Heaven, in its mercy, has made their senses so obtuse, that they know not when their souls are in a flame, or when they are dead. I can imagine none but the most moderate satisfaction, in continuing to love what has got no ember of love within it. The Italians have a very sensible sort of proverb amare, e non essere amato, e 7 Over 1bte Cigar perduto to love, and not be loved, is time lost. I take a kind of rude pleasure in flinging down a coal that has no life in it. And it seemed to me and may Heaven pardon the ill-nature that belongs to the thought that there would be much of the same kind of satisfaction, in dashing from you a lukewarm creature, covered over with the yellow ashes of old combustion, that with ever so much attention, and the nearest approach of the lips, never shows signs of fire. May Heaven for- give me again, but I should long to break away, though the marriage bonds held me, and see what liveliness was to be found else- where. I have seen before now a creeping vine try to grow up against a marble wall ; it shoots out its tendrils in all directions, seeking for some crevice by which to fasten and to climb looking now above and now below twining upon itself reaching farther up, but after all, finding no good foothold, and falling away as if in despair. But nature is not unkind ; twin- ing things were made to twine. The longing tendrils take new strength in the sunshine, 8 <>\>er Ibis Cigar and in the showers, and shoot out towards some hospitable trunk. They fasten easily to the kindly roughness of the bark, and stretch up, dragging after them the vine; which by and by, from the topmost bough, will nod its blossoms over at the marble wall, that refused it succor, as if it said stand there in your pride, cold, white wall ! we, the tree and I, are kindred, it the helper, and I the helped ; and bound fast together, we riot in the sunshine, and in gladness. The thought of this image made me search for a new coal that should have some bright- ness in it. There may be a white ash over it indeed ; as you will find tender feelings cov- ered with the mask of courtesy, or with the veil of fear ; but with a breath it all flies off ; and exposes the heat, and the glow that you are seeking. At the first touch, the delicate edges of the cigar crimple, a thin line of smoke rises ' doubtfully for awhile, and with a coy delay : but after a hearty respiration or two, it grows strong, and my cigar is fairly lighted. That first taste of the new smoke, and of the fragrant leaf is very grateful ; it has a bloom 9 \>er "tote Cigar about it, that you wish might last. It is like your first love fresh, genial, and rapturous. Like that, it fills up all the craving of your soul; and the light, blue wreaths of smoke, like the roseate clouds that hang around the morning of your heart life, cut you off from the chill atmosphere of mere worldly compan- ionship, and make a gorgeous firmament for your fancy to riot in. I do not speak now of those later, and man- lier passions, into which judgment must be thrusting its cold tones, and when all the sweet tumult of your heart has mellowed into the sober ripeness of affection. But I mean that boyish burning, which belongs to every poor mortal's lifetime, and which bewilders him with the thought that he has reached the highest point of human joy before he has tasted any of that bitterness, from which alone our highest human joys have sprung. I mean the time, when you cut initials with your jack- knife on the smooth bark of beech trees ; and went moping under the long shadows at sun- set ; and thought Louise the prettiest name in .the wide world ; and picked flowers to leave at her door ; and stole out at night to watch the 10 ver Ibis Cigar light in her window ; and read such novels as those about Helen Mar, or Charlotte, to give some adequate expression to your agonized feelings. At such a stage, you are quite certain that you are deeply, and madly in love ; you per- sist in the face of heaven, and earth. You would like to meet the individual who dared to doubt it. You think she has got the tidiest, and jaun- tiest little figure that ever was seen. You think back upon some time when in your games of forfeit, you gained a kiss from those lips ; and it seems as if the kiss was hanging on you yet, and warming you all over. And then again, it seems so strange that your lips did really touch hers ! You half question if it could have been actually so and how you could have dared and you wonder if you would have courage to do the same thing again? and upon second thought, are quite sure you would and snap your fingers at the thought of it. What sweet little hats she does wear ; and in the schoolroom, when the hat is hung up what curls golden curls, worth a hundred 11 ver "fete Ci^ar Golcondas! How bravely you study the top lines of the spelling-book that your eyes may run over the edge of the cover, without the schoolmaster's notice, and feast upon her ! You half wish that somebody would run away with her, as they did with Amanda, in the " Children of the Abbey " and then you might ride up on a splended black horse, and draw a pistol, or blunderbuss, and shoot the villains, and carry her back, all in tears, faint- ing, and languishing upon your shoulder and have her father (who is judge of the county court) take your hand in both of his, and make some eloquent remarks. A great many such recaptures you run over in your mind, and think how delightful it would be to peril your life, either by flood, or fire to cut off your arm, or your head, or any such trifle for your dear Louise. You can hardly think of anything more joy- ous in life, than to live with her in some old castle, very far away from steamboats, and post-offices, and pick wild geraniums for her hair, and read poetry with her, under the shade of very dark ivy vines. And you would have such a charming boudoir in some corner 12 \>er Ibis Cigar of the old ruin, with a harp in it, and books bound in gilt, with Cupids on the cover, and such a fairy couch, with the curtains hung as you have seen them hung in some illustrated Arabian stories upon a pair of carved doves. And when they laugh at you about it, you turn it off perhaps with saying " It isn't so "; but afterwards, in your chamber, or under the tree where you have cut her name, you take Heaven to witness, that it is so ; and think what a cold world it is, to be so careless about such holy emotions ! You perfectly hate a certain stout boy in a green jacket, who is for- ever twitting you, and calling her names ; but when some old maiden aunt teases you in her kind, gentle way, you bear it very proudly ; and with a feeling as if you could bear a great deal more for her sake. And when the min- ister reads off marriage announcements in the church, you think how it will sound one of these days, to have your name, and hers, read from the pulpit and how the people will look at you, and how prettily she will blush ; and how poor little Dick, who you know loves her, but is afraid to say so, will squirm upon his bench. 13 $8$j$8fet$-j8Jj Over Ibis Cigar Heigho! mused I as the blue smoke rolled up around my head these first kindlings of the love that is in one, are very pleasant ! but will they last ? You love to listen to the rustle of her dress, as she stirs about the room. It is better music than grown-up ladies will make upon all their harpsichords, in the years that are to come. But this, thank Heaven, you do not know. You think you can trace her foot-mark, on your way to the school ; and what a dear little foot-mark it is 1 And from that single point, if she be out of your sight for days, you con- jure up the whole image the elastic, lithe little figure the springy step the dotted muslin so light, and flowing the silk kerchief, with its most tempting fringe playing upon the clear white of her throat how you envy that fringe ! And her chin is as round as a peach and the lips such lips ! and you sigh, and hang your head ; and wonder when you shall see her again ! You would like to write her a letter ; but then people would talk so coldly about it ; and besides you are not quite sure you could write billets as Thaddeus of Warsaw used to 14 ver Ibis Cigar write; and anything less warm or elegant, would not do at all. You talk about this one, or that one, whom they call pretty, in the coolest way in the world ; you see very little of their prettiness ; they are good girls to be sure; and you hope they will get good hus- bands some day or other ; but it is not a matter that concerns you very much. They do not live in your world of romance ; they are not the angels of that sky which your heart makes rosy, and to which I have likened the blue waves of this rolling smoke. You can even joke as you talk of others ; you can smile as you think very graciously ; you can say laughingly that you are deeply in love with them, and think it a most capital joke ; you can touch their hands, or steal a kiss from them in your games, most imperturbably they are very dead coals. But the live one is very lively. When you take the name on your lip, it seems somehow, to be made of different materials from the rest ; you cannot half so easily separate it into letters ; write it indeed, you can ; for you have had practice very much private practice on odd scraps of paper, and on the fly-leaves of 15 - , %k ~& "*/ w& : < vcr t>is Cigar * *^ *~ ">v^ ) V. ^ geographies, and of your natural philosophy. ''You know perfectly well how it looks ; it seems to be written, indeed, somewhere behind your eyes ; and in such happy position with respect to the optic nerve, that you see it all the time, though you are looking in an oppo- site direction ; and so distinctly, that you have great fears lest people looking into your eyes, should see it too ! For all this, it is a far more delicate name to J j handle than most that you know of. Though *A it is very cool, and pleasant on the brain, it is P Very hot, and difficult to manage on the lip. ; It is not, as your schoolmaster would say a name, so much as it is an idea not a noun, but a verb an active, and transitive verb ; ,nd yet a most irregular verb, wanting the assive voice. */&$ \ ^ * s sometn i n g against your schoolmaster's trine, to find warmth in the moonlight ; but /'with that soft hand it is very soft lying within your arm, there is a great deal of warmth, whatever the philosophers may say, even in pale moonlight. The beams, too, breed sympathies, very close-running sympa- ies- not talked about in the chapters on vet Ibis dtgar optics, and altogether too fine for language. And under their influence, you retain the little hand, that you had not dared retain so long before ; and her struggle to recover it if in- deed it be a struggle is infinitely less than it was nay, it is a kind of struggle, not so much against you, as between gladness and modesty. It makes you as bold as a lion ; and the feeble hand, like a poor lamb in the lion's clutch, is powerless, and very meek and failing of escape, it will sue for gentle treatment ; and will meet your warm promise, with a kind of grateful pressure, that is but half acknowl- edged, by the hand that makes it. My cigar is burning with wondrous free- ness ; and from the smoke flash forth images o bright and quick as lightning with no thunder, but the thunder of the pulse. But will it all last ? Damp will deaden the fire of a cigar ; and there are hellish damps alas, too many that will deaden the early blazing of the heart. She is pretty growing prettier to your eye, the more you look upon her, and prettier to your ear, the more you listen to her. But you wonder who the tall boy was, who you saw walking with her, two days ago ? He was not 17 \>er Ibis a bad-looking boy ; on the contrary you think (with a grit of your teeth) that he was infernally handsome ! You look at him very shyly, and very closely, when you pass him ; and turn to see how he walks, and how to measure his shoulders, and are quite disgusted with the very modest, and gentlemanly way, with \ which he carries himself. You think you would like to have a fisticuff with him, if you ;: were only sure of having the best of it. You sound the neighborhood coyly, to find out who the strange boy is : and are half ashamed of yourself for doing it. You gather a magnificent bouquet to send her and tie it with a green ribbon, and love knot and get a little rose-bud in acknowl- edgment. That day, you pass the tall boy with a very patronizing look ; and wonder if he would not like to have a sail in your boat ? But by and by, you will find the tall boy walking with her again ; and she looks side- .< ways at him, and with a kind of grown up air, that makes you feel very boy like, and humble aud furious. And you look daggers at him when you pass; and touch your cap to her, with quite uncommon dignity ; and wonder if 18 - \>er Ibis he is not sorry, and does not feel very badly, to have got such a look from you ? On some other day, however, you meet her alone ; and the sight of her makes your face wear a genial, sunny air ; and you talk a little sadly about your fears and your jealousies ; she seems a little sad, and a little glad, together ; and is sorry she has made you feel badly and you are sorry too. And with this pleasant twin sorrow, you are knit together again closer than ever. That one little tear of hers has been worth more to you than a thousand smiles. Now you love her madly ; you could swear it swear it to her, or swear it to the universe. You even say as much to some kind old friend at nightfall ; but your mention of her, is tremulous and joyful with a kind of bound in your speech, as if the heart worked too quick for the tongue; and as if the lips were ashamed to be passing over such secrets of the soul, to the mere sense of hearing. At this stage you cannot trust yourself to speak her praises or if you venture, the expletives fly away with your thought, before you can chain it into language; and your speech, at your best endeavor, is but a succession of 19 \>er t)ie Cigar broken superlatives, that you are ashamed of. You strain for language that will scald the thought of her ; but hot as you can make it, it falls back upon your heated fancy like a cold , shower. Heat so intense as this consumes very fast ; * and the matter it feeds fastest on, is judg- ment; and with judgment gone, there is room for jealousy to creep in. You grow petulant at another sight of that tall-boy ; and the one tear which cured your first petulance, will not cure it now. You let a little of your fever break out in speech a speech which you go home to mourn over. But she knows nothing 1 o of the mourning, while she knows very much of the anger. Vain tears are very apt to breed pride ; and when you go again with your petu- lance, you will find your rosy -lipped girl taking her first studies in dignity. You will stay away, you say poor fool, you are feeding on what your disease loves best ! You wonder if she is not sighing for your re- turn and if your name is not running in her thought and if tears of regret are not moisten- ing those sweet eyes. And wondering thus, you stroll moodily, 20 \>er Ibis Ci$ar and hopefully towards her father's home ; you pass the door once twice; you loiter under the shade of an old tree, where you have some- times bid her adieu ; your old fondness is strug- gling with your pride, and has almost made the mastery ; but in the very moment of victory, you see yonder your hated rival, and beside him, looking very gleeful, and happy your perfidious Louise. How quick you throw off the marks of your struggle, and put on the boldest air of boy- hood ; and what a dextrous handling to your knife, and what a wonderful keenness to the edge, as you cut away from the bark of the beech-tree, all trace of her name ! Still there is a little silent relenting, and a few tears at night, and a little tremor of the hand, as you tear out the next day every fly-leaf that bears her name. But at sight of your rival looking so jaunty, and in such capital you put on the proud man again. You may meet her, but you say nothing of your strug- gles oh, no, not one word of that ! but you talk with amazing rapidity about your games, or what not ; and you never never give her another peep into your boyish heart ! 21 For a week, you do not see her nor for a month nor two months nor three. Puff puff once more ; there is only a little nauseous smoke ; and now my cigar is gone out altogether. I must light again. ver Die Cigar WITH A WISP OF PAPER THERE are those who throw away a cigar, when once gone out; they must needs have plenty more. But nobody that I ever heard of, keeps a cedar box of hearts, labeled at Ha- vana. Alas, there is but one to light ! But can a heart once lit, be lighted again ? Authority on this point is worth something; yet it should be impartial authority. I should be loth to take in evidence, for the fact how- ever it might tally with my hope, the affidavit of some rakish old widower, who had cast his weeds, before the grass had started on the mound of his affliction ; and I should be as slow to take, in way of rebutting testimony, the oath of any sweet young girl, just becom- ing conscious of her heart's existence by its loss. Yery much, it seems to me, depends upon the quality of the fire : and I can easily con- ceive of one so pure, so constant, so ex? 23 vcr Ibis Cigar hausting, that if it were once gone out, whether in the chills of death, or under the blasts of pitiless fortune, there would be no rekindling; simply because there would be nothing left to kindle. And I can imagine too a fire so earnest, and so true, that what- ever malice might urge, or a devilish ingenuity devise, there could no other be found, high or low, far or near, which should not so contrast with the first, as to make it seem cold as ice. I remember in an old play of Davenport's, the hero is led to doubt his mistress ; he is worked upon by slanders, to quit her altogether though he has loved, and does still love passionately. She bids him adieu, with large tears dropping from her eyes (and I lay down my cigar, to recite it aloud, fancying all the while, with a varlet impudence, that some Abstemia is repeating it to me) : Farewell, Lorenzo, Whom my soul doth love; if you ever marry, May you meet a good wife: so good, that you May not suspect her, nor may she be worthy Of your suspicion : and if yon hear hereafter That I am dead, inquire but my last words, And you shall know that to the last I loved yon. 24 ver Ibis And when you walk forth with your second choice, Into the pleasant fields, and by chance talk of me Imagine that you see me thin, and pale, Strewing your path with flowers ! Poor Abstemia ! Lorenzo never could find such another there never could be such another, for such Lorenzo. To blaze anew, it is essential that the old fire be utterly gone ; and can any truly-lighted soul ever grow cold, except the grave cover it? The poets all say no : Othello, had he lived a thousand years, would not have loved again nor Desdemona nor Andromache nor Medea nor Ulysses nor Hamlet. But in the cool wreaths of the pleasant smoke, let us see what truth is in the poets. What is love mused I at the first, but a mere fancy ? There is a prettiness, that your soul cleaves to, as your eye to a pleasant flower, or your ear to a soft melody. Pres- ently, admiration comes in, as a sort of balance wheel for the eccentric revolutions of your fancy ; and your admiration is touched off with such neat quality as respect. Too much of this, indeed, they say, deadens the fancy ; and so retards the action of the heart 25 <>\>er Ibis Cigar machinery. But with a proper modicum to serve as a stock, devotion is grafted in ; and then, by an agreeable and confused mingling all these qualities, and affections of the soul, become transfused into that vital feeling, called love. Your heart seems to have gone over to an- other and better counterpart of your human- ity ; what is left of you, seems the mere^husk of some kernel that has been stolen. It is not an emotion of yours, which is making very easy voyages towards another soul that may be shortened, or lengthened, at will ; but it is a passion, that is only yours, because it is there; the more it lodges there, the more keenly you feel it to be yours. The qualities that feed this passion, may in- deed belong to you ; but they never gave birth to such an one before, simply because there was no place in which it could grow. Nature is very provident in these matters. The chrysalis does not burst, until there is a wing to help the gauze-fly upward. The shell does not break, until the bird can breathe ; nor /iocs the swallow quit its nest, until its wings f are tipped with the airy oars. 26 <>\>er Ibis Cigar This passion of love is strong, just in pro- portion as the atmosphere it finds, is tender of its life. Let that atmosphere change into too great coldness, and the passion becomes a wreck not yours, because it is not worth your having nor vital, because it has lost the soil where it grew. But is it not laying the reproach in a high quarter, to say that those qualities of the heart which begot this passion, are exhausted, and will not thenceforth germi- nate through all of your lifetime ? Take away the worm-eaten frame from your arbor plant, and the wrenched arms of the despoiled climber will not at the first, touch any new trellis; they cannot in a day, change the habit of a year. But let the new support stand firmly, and the needy tendrils will presently lay hold upon the stranger ! and your plant will regain its pride and pomp; cherishing perhaps in its bent figure, a memento of the old ; but in its more earnest, and abounding life, mindful only of its sweet dependence on the new. Let the poets say what they will; these affections of ours are not blind, stupid creatures, to starve under polar snows, when 27 vcr Ibis Cigar the very breezes of Heaven are the appointed messengers to guide them towards warmth and sunshine ! And with a little suddenness of manner, I tear off a wisp of paper, and holding it in the blaze of my lamp, re-light my cigar. It does not burn so easily perhaps as at first : it wants warming, before it will catch ; but presently, it is in a broad, full glow, that throws light into the corners of my room. Just so thought I the love of youth, which succeeds the crackling blaze of boyhood, makes a broader flame, though it may not be so easily kindled. A mere dainty step, or a curling lock, or a soft blue eye are not enough ; but in her, who has quickened the new blaze, there is a blending of all these, with a certain sweetness of soul, that finds expression in whatever feature or motion you look upon. .Her charms steal over you gently, and almost imperceptibly. You think that she is a pleasant companion nothing more: and you find the opinion strongly confirmed, day by day ; so well confirmed, indeed, that you be- gin to wonder why it is, that she is such a delightful companion ? It cannot be her eye, 28 Nelly -Page 28 Over His Cigar ver Ibis Cigar for you have seen eyes almost as pretty as Nelly's ; nor can it be her mouth, though Nelly's mouth is certainly very sweet. And you keep studying what on earth it can be that makes you so earnest to be near her, or to listen to her voice. The study is pleasant.. You do not know any study that is more so ;: or which you accomplish with less mental' fatigue. Upon a sudden, some fine day, when the am is balmy, and the recollection of Nelly's voice; and manner, more balmy still, you wonder if you are in love? When a man has such a; wonder, he is either very near love, or he is very far away from it ; it is a wonder, that is; either suggested by his hope, or by that en- tanglement, of feeling which blunts all his perceptions. But if not in love, you have at least a strong fancy so strong, that you tell your friends carelessly, that she is a nice girl nay, a beau- tiful girl ; and if your education has been bad,s you strengthen the epithet on your own tongue, with a very wicked expletive of which the mildest form would be " deuced fine girl ! " Presently, however, you get beyond this ; and 29 \>er Ibie your companionship, and your wonder, relapse into a constant, quiet habit of unmistakable love not impulsive, quick, and fiery, like the first ; but mature and calm. It is as if it were born with your soul, and the recognition of it was rather an old remembrance, than a fresh passion. It does not seek to gratify its ex- uberance, and force, with such relief as night- serenades, or any Jacques-like meditations in the forest ; but it is a quiet, still joy, that floats on your hope, into the years to come making the prospect all sunny and joyful. It is a kind of oil and balm for whatever was stormy, or harmful : it gives a permanence to the smile of existence. It does not make the sea of your life turbulent with high emotions, as if a strong wind were blowing but it is as if an Aphrodite had broken on the surface, and the ripples were spreading with a sweet, low sound, and widening far out to the very shores of time. There is no need now, as with the boy, to bolster up your feelings with extravagant vows: even should you try this in her presence, the words are lacking to put such vows in. So soon as you reach them, they fail you : and the 30 ver Ibis Cigar oath only quivers on the lip, or tells its story by a pressure of the fingers. You wear a brusque, pleasant air with your acquaintances, and hint with a sly look at possible changes in your circumstances. Of an evening, you are kind to the most unattractive of the wall- flowers if only your Nelly is away ; and you have a sudden charity for street beggars, with pale children. You catch yourself taking a step in one of the new polkas, upon a country walk ; and wonder immensely at the number of bright days which succeed each other, without leaving a single stormy gap, for your old mel- ancholy moods. Even the chambermaids at your hotel, never did their duty one-half so ^ well ; and as for your man, Tom, he is become v| a perfect pattern of a fellow. My cigar is in a fine glow ; but it has gone out once, and it may go out again. You begin to talk of marriage; but some obstinate papa, or guardian uncle thinks that it will never do that it is quite too soon, or that Nelly is a mere girl. Or some of your wild oats quite forgotten by yourself shoot up on the vision of a staid mamma, and throw a very damp shadow on your character. Or 31 ver Ibis the old lady has an ambition of another sort, which you, a simple, earnest, plodding bach- elor, can never gratify being of only passable appearance, and unschooled in the fashions of the world, you will be eternally rubbing the elbows of the old lady's pride. All this will be strangely afflicted to one who has been living for quite a number of weeks, or months, in a pleasant dream-land, where there were no five per cents., or reputa- tions, but only a very full, and delirious flow of feeling. What care you for any position, except a position near the being that you love? What wealth do you prize, except a wealth of heart, that shall never know diminu- tion ; or for reputation, except that of truth, and of honor ? How hard it would break upon these pleasant idealities, to have a weazen- faced old guardian set his arm in yours, and tell you how tenderly he has at heart the hap- piness of his niece ; and reason with you about your very small, and sparse dividends, and your limited business ; and caution you for he has a lively regard for your interests about con- tinuing your addresses ? - The kind old curmudgeon I \>er 1bt0 Cigar Your man Tom has grown suddenly a very- stupid fellow ; and all your charity for withered wall-flowers, is gone. Perhaps in your wrath the suspicion comes over you, that she too wishes you were something higher, or more famous, or richer, or anything but what you are ! a very dangerous suspicion : for no man with any true nobility of soul can ever make his heart the slave of another's condescension. But no you will not, you cannot believe this of Nelly ; that face of hers is too mild and gracious ; and her manner, as she takes your hand, after your heart is made sad, and turns away those rich blue eyes shadowed more deeply than ever by the long and moistened fringe ; and the exquisite softness, and mean- ing of the pressure of those little fingers ; and the low, half sob; and the heaving of that bosom, in its struggles between love, and duty all forbid. Nelly, you could swear, is ten- derly indulgent, like the fond creature that she is, towards all your short-comings; and would not barter your strong love, and your honest heart, for the greatest magnate in the land. What a spur to effort is the confiding love of 2) 33 ver 1bi0 Cigar a true-hearted woman! That last fond look of hers, hopeful and encouraging, has more power within it to nerve your soul to high deeds, than all the admonitions of all your tutors. Your heart, beating large with hope, quickens the flow upon the brain; and you make wild vows to win greatness. But alas, this is a great world very full, and very rough: all up-hill work when we would do ; All down-hill, when we suffer. 1 Hard, withering toil only can achieve a name ; and long days, and months, and years, must be passed in the chase of that bubble reputation ; which when once grasped, breaks in your eager clutch, into a hundred lesser bubbles, that soar above you still ! A clandestine meeting from time to time, and a note or two tenderly written, keep up the blaze in your heart. But presently, the lynx-eyed old guardian so tender of your in- terests, and hers forbids even this irregular and unsatisfying correspondence. Now you 'Festus. 34 A clandestine meeting from time to time." -Page 34 Over His Cigar ver Ibis Cigar can feed yourself only on stray glimpses of her figure as full of sprightliness and grace, as ever; and that beaming face, you are half sorry to see from time to time still beautiful. You struggle with your moods of melancholy, and wear bright looks yourself bright to her, and very bright to the eye of the old cur- mudgeon, who has snatched your heart away. It will never do to show your weakness to a man. At length, on some pleasant morning, you learn that she is gone too far away to be seen, too closely guarded to be reached. For awhile you throw down your books, and aban- don your toil in despair thinking very bitter thoughts, and making very helpless resolves. My cigar is still burning ; but it will require constant and strong respiration to keep it in a glow. A letter or two dispatched at random, re-/ lieve the excess of your fever ; until with prac- tice, these random letters have even less heat in them, than the heat of your study, or of your business. Grief thank God ! is not so progressive, or so cumulative as joy. For a time, there is a pleasure in the mood, with 35 Over Die which you recall your broken hopes ; and with which you selfishly link hers to the shattered wreck : but absence, and ignorance tame the point of your woe. You call up the image of Nelly, adorning other and distant scenes. You see the tearful smile give place to a blithesome cheer ; and the thought of you that shaded her fair face so long, fades under the sunshine of gayety ; or at best, it only seems to cross that white forehead, like a playful shadow, that a fleecy cloud-remnant will fling upon a sunny lawn. As for you, the world with its whirl and roar, is deafening the sweet, distant notes, that come up through old, choked channels of the affections. Life is calling for earnestness, and not for regrets. So the months, and the years slip by ; your bachelor habit grows easy and light with wearing ; you have mourned enough, to smile at the violent mourning of others ; and you have enjoyed enough, to sigh over their little eddies of delight. Dark shades, and de- licious streaks of crimson and gold color lie upon your life. Your heart with all its weight of ashes, can yet sparkle at the sound of a fairy step ; and your face can yet open into a round 36 \>er Ibis Cigar of joyous smiles, that are almost hopes in the presence of some bright-eyed girl. But amid this, there will float over you from time to time, a midnight trance, in which you will hear again with a thirsty ear, the witching melody of the days that are gone; and you will wake from it with a shudder into the cold resolves of your lonely, and manly life. But the shudder passes as easy as night from morn- ing. Tearful regrets, and memories that touch to the quick, are dull weapons to break through the panoply of your seared, eager, and ambi- tious manhood. They onlj 7 venture out like timid, white- winged flies, when night is come ; and at the first glimpse of the dawn, they shrivel up, and lie without a flutter, in some corner of your soul. And when, years after, you learn that she has returned a woman, there is a slight glow, but no tumultuous bound of the heart. Life] and time have worried you down like a spent hound. The world has given you a habit of easy and unmeaning smiles. You half accuse yourself of ingratitude and forgetf ulness ; but the accusation does not oppress you. It does not even distract your attention from the morn- 37 vet 1bfs Cigar ing journal. You cannot work yourself into a respectable degree of indignation against the old gentleman her guardian. You sigh poor thing ! and in a very flashy waistcoat, you venture a morning call. She meets you kindly a comely, matronly //f dame in gingham, with her curls all gathered under a high-topped comb ; and she presents to you two little boys in smart crimson jack- ets, dressed up with braid. And you dine with madam a family party ; and the weazen-faced old gentleman meets you with a most pleasant shake of the hand hints that you were among his niece's earliest friends, and hopes that you are getting on well ? Capitally well ! And the boys toddle in at dessert Dick to get a plum from your own dish ; Tom to be kissed by his rosy-faced papa. In short, you are made perfectly at home ; and you sit over your wine for an hour, in a cozy smoke with the gentlemanly uncle, and with the very courteous husband of your second flame. It is all very jovial at the table, for good wine is, I find, a great strengthener of the bachelor heart. But afterwards, when night 38 \>er Ibis Cigar has fairly set in and the blaze of your fire goes flickering over your lonely quarters, you heave a deep sigh. And as your thought runs back to the perfidious Louise, and calls up the married, and matronly Nelly, you sob over that poor dumb heart within you, which craves so madly a free and joyous utterance ! And as you lean over with your forehead in your hands and your eyes fall upon the old hounds slumbering on the rug the tears start, and you wish that you had married years ago ; and that you too had your pair of prat- tling boys, to drive away the loneliness of your solitary hearthstone. , My cigar would not go ; it was fairly out. But with true bachelor obstinacy, I vowed that I would light again. vcr "tots Cigar LIGHTED WITH A MATCH I HATE a match. I feel sure that brimstone matches were never made in heaven ; and it is sad to think, that with few exceptions, matches are all of them tipped with brimstone. But my taper having burned out, and the coals being all dead upon the hearth, a match is all that is left to me. All matches will not blaze on the first trial ; and there are those, that with the most indefatigable coaxings, never show a spark. They may indeed leave in their trail phos- phorescent streaks ; but you can no more light your cigar at them, than you can kindle your heart, at the covered wife- trails, which the infernal, gossiping, old match-makers will lay in your path. Was there ever a bachelor of seven and twenty, I wonder, who has not been haunted by pleasant old ladies, and trim, excellent, good-natured, married friends, who talk to 40 Ibis Cigar him about nice matches " very nice matches," matches which never go off ? And who, pray, has not had some kind old uncle, to fill two sheets for him (perhaps in the time of heavy postages), about some most eligible connection " of highly respectable parentage ! " "What a delightful thing, surely, for a withered bachelor, to bloom forth in the dignity of an ancestral tree ! What a precious surprise for him, who has all his life worshiped the wing-heeled Mercury, to find on a sudden, a great stock of preserved, and most respect- able Penates ! In God's name thought I, puffing vehe- mently what is a man's heart given him for, if not to choose, where his heart's blood, every drop of it is flowing ? "Who is going to dam these billowy tides of the soul, whose roll is ordered by a planet greater than the moon and that planet Yenus? "Who is going to shift this vane of my desires, when every breeze that passes in my heaven is keeping it all the more strongly, to its fixed bearings ? Besides this, there are the money matches, urged upon you by disinterested bachelor friends, who would be very proud to see you 41 ver 1>i0. Cigar at the head of an establishment. And I must confess that this kind of talk has a pleasant jingle about it ; and is one of the cleverest aids to a bachelor's day-dreams, that can well be imagined. And let not the pouting lady condemn me, without a hearing. It is certainly cheerful to think for a con- templative bachelor that the pretty ermine which so sets off the transparent hue of your imaginary wife, or the lace which lies so be- wltchingly upon the superb roundness of her form or the graceful bodice, trimmed to a line, which is of such exquisite adaptation to her lithe figure, will be always at her com- mand nay, that these are only units among the chameleon hues, under which you shall feed upon her beauty ! I want to know if it is not a pretty cabinet picture, for fancy to luxuriate upon that of a sweet wife, who is cheating hosts of friends into love, sympathy and admiration, by the modest munificence of her wealth? Is it not rather agreeable, to feed your hopeful soul upon that abundance, which, while it supplies her need, will give a jange to her loving charities which will keep from her brow the shadows of anxiety, and 42 ver Ibis Cicjar will sublime her gentle nature, by adding to it the grace of an angel of mercy ? Is it not rich, in those days when the pestilent humors of bachelorhood hang heavy on you, to foresee in that shadowy realm, where hope is a native, the quiet of a home, made splendid with attractions ; and made real, by the presence of her, who bestows them ? Upon my word thought I, as I con- tinued puffing such a match must make a very grateful lighting of one's inner sym- pathies ; nor am I prepared to say, that such associations would not add force to the most abstract love imaginable. Think of it for a moment what is it, that we poor fellows love ? We love, if one may judge for himself, over his cigar gentleness, beauty, refinement, generosity, and intelligence and far above these, a returning love, made up of all these qualities, and gaining upon your love, day by day, and month by month, like a sunny morning, gaining upon the frosts of night. But wealth is a great means of refinement ; and it is a security for gentleness, since it re- moves disturbing anxieties ; and it is a pretty 43 <>ver Ibis Cigar promoter of intelligence, since it multiplies the avenues for its reception ; and it is a good basis for a generous habit of life ; it even equips beauty, neither hardening its hand with toil, nor tempting the wrinkles to come early. But whether it provokes greatly that returning passion that abnegation of soul that sweet trustfulness, and abiding affection, which are to clothe your heart with joy, is far more doubtful. Wealth, while it gives so much, asks much in return ; and the soul that is grateful to mammon, is not over ready to be grateful for intensity of love. It is hard to gratify those, who have nothing left to gratify. Heaven help the man who having wearied his soul with delays and doubts, or exhausted the freshness, and exuberance of his youth by a hundred little dallyings with love consigns himself at length to the issues of what people call a nice match whether of money, or of a family ! Heaven help you (I brush the ashes from my cigar) when you begin to regard marriage as only a respectable institution, and under the advices of staid old friends, begin to look about you for some very respectable wife. You may 44 Ovir Hit Cigar " Her dress is elegant and tasteful." ver Ibis Cigar admire her figure, and her family ; and bear pleasantly in mind the very casual mention which has been made by some of your pene- trating friends that she has large expecta- tions. You think that she would make a very; capital appearance at the head of your table ;. nor in the event of your coming to any public; ^ honor, would she make you blush for her breed- ing. She talks well, exceedingly well ; and: her face has its charms ; especially under % little excitement. Her dress is elegant, andy tasteful, and she is constantly remarked upon by all your friends, as a " nice person." Some good old lady, in whose pew she occasionally sits on a Sunday, or to whom she has some- time sent a papier mache card-case, for the show-box of some Dorcas benevolent society, thinks with a sly wink that she would make a fine wife for somebody. She certainly has an elegant figure ; and the marriage of some half dozen of your old flames, warn you that time is slipping and your chances failing. And in the pleasant warmth of some after-dinner mood, you resolve with, her image in her prettiest pelisse drifting across your brain that you will marry. Now comes 45 ver Ibis Cigar the pleasant excitement of the chase ; and whatever family dignity may surround her, only adds to the pleasurable glow of the pur- suit. You give an hour more to your toilette, and a hundred or two more, a year to your tailor. All is orderly, dignified, and gracious. Charlotte is a sensible woman, everybody says ; and you believe it yourself. You agree in your talk about books, and churches and flow- ers. Of course she has good taste for she accepts you. The acceptance is dignified, ele- gant, and even courteous. You receive numerous congratulations ; and your old friend Tom writes you that he hears you are going to marry a splendid woman ; and all the old ladies say what a capital match ! And your business partner, who is a married man, and something of a wag " sympathizes sincerely." Upon the whole, you feel a little proud of your arrangement. You write to an old friend in the country, that you are to marry presently Miss Charlotte of such a street, whose father was something very fine, in his way ; and whose father before him was very distinguished ; you add, in a postscript, that she is easily situated, and has 46 ver Ibis Cigar " expectations." Your friend, who has a wife that he loves, and that loves him, writes back kindly " hoping you may be happy " ; and hoping so yourself, you light your cigar one of your last bachelor cigars with the margin of his letter. The match goes off with a brilliant marriage ; at which you receive a very elegant welcome %>:. from your wife's spinster cousins and drink a great deal of champagne with her bachelor uncles. And as you take the dainty hand of your bride very magnificent under that bridal wreath, and with her face lit up by a brilliant glow your eye, and your soul, for the first time, grow full. And as your arm circles that elegant figure, and you draw her towards you, feeling that she is yours there is a bound at your heart, that makes you think your soul- life is now whole, and earnest. All your early dreams, and imaginations, come flowing on your thought, like bewildering music ; and as you gaze upon her the admiration of that crowd it seems to you, that all that your heart prizes, is made good by the accident of marriage. Ah thought I, brushing off the ashes 47 <>\>er Ibis Cigar again bridal pictures are not home pictures ; and the hour at the altar, is but a poor type of the waste of years ! Your household is elegantly ordered ; Char- lotte has secured the best of housekeepers, and she meets the compliments of your old friends who come to dine with you, with a suavity, that is never at fault. And they tell you after the cloth is removed, and you sit quietly smoking in memory of the olden times that she is a splendid woman. Even the old ladies who come for occasional charities, think raadame a pattern of a lady ; and so think her old admirers, whom she receives still with an easy grace, that half puzzles you. And as you stand by the ball-room door, at two of the morning, with your Charlotte's shawl upon your arm, some little panting fellow will con- firm the general opinion, by telling you that madame is a magnificent dancer ; and Monsieur le Comte, will praise extravagantly her French. You are grateful for all this ; but you have an uncommonly serious way of expressing your gratitude. You think you ought to be a very happy fellow ; and yet long shadows do steal over 48 ver Ibis Cigar your thought ; and you wonder that the sight of your Charlotte in the dress you used to admire so much, does not scatter them to the winds; but it does not. You feel coy about putting your arm around that delicately robed figure you might derange the plaitings of her dress. She is civil towards you; and tender; towards your bachelor friends. She talks with dignity adjusts her lace cap and hopes you will make a figure in the world, for the sakev of the family. Her cheek is never soiled withf| a tear ; and her smiles are frequent, especially^ when you have some spruce young fellows at " your table. You catch sight of occasional notes, per- haps, whose superscription you do not know ; and some of her admirers' attentions become so pointed, and constant, that your pride is stirred. It would be silly to show jealousy ; but you suggest to your " dear " as you sip your tea the slight impropriety of her action. Perhaps you fondly long for some little V scene, as a proof of wounded confidence ; but ' no nothing of that; she trusts (calling you " my dear "), that she knows how to sustain the dignity of her position. 49 \>er Ibis Cigar You are too sick at heart, for comment, or for reply. And is this the intertwining of soul of which you had dreamed in the days that are gone? Is this the blending of sympathies that was to steal from life its bitterness : and spread over care and suffering, the sweet, ministering hand of kindness, and of love ? Ay, you may well wander back to your bachelor club, and make the hours long at the journals, or at play killing the flagging lapse of your life ! Talk sprightly with your old friends and mimic the joy you have not ; or you will wear a bad name upon your hearth and head. Never suffer your Charlotte to catch sight of the tears which in bitter hours, may start from your eye ; or to hear the sighs which in your times of solitary musings, may break forth sudden, and heavy. Go on counterfeiting your life, as you have begun. It was a nice match ; and you are a nice husband ! But you have a little boy, thank God, towards whom your heart runs out freely ; and you love to catch him in his respite from, your well-ordered nursery, and the tasks of his teachers alone ; and to spend upon him a little 50 ver 1bi0 Cigar of that depth of feeling, which through so many years has scarce been stirred. You. play with him at his games ; you fondle him ; you take him to your bosom. But papa he says see how you have tum- bled my collar. What shall I tell mamma ? Tell her, my boy, that I love you ! Ah, thought I my cigar was getting dull, and nauseous is there not a spot in your heart, that the gloved hand of your elegant wife has never reached : that you wish it might reach ? You go to see a far-away friend : his was not a " nice match " : he was married years before you : and yet the beaming looks of his wife and his lively smile, are as fresh and honest as they were years ago ; and they make you ashamed of your disconsolate humor. Your stay is lengthened, but the home letters are not urgent for your return : yet they are marvelously proper letters, and rounded with a French adieu. Y r ou could have wished a little scrawl from your boy at the bottom, in the place of the postscript which gives you the names of a new opera troupe ; and you hint as much a very bold stroke for you. 51 <>ver IMs Cigar Ben she says writes too shamefully. And at your return, there is no great antici- pation of delight; in contrast with the old dreams, that a pleasant summer's journey has called up, your parlor as you enter it so ele- gant, so still so modish seems the charnel- house of your heart. By and by, you fall into weary days of sick- ness ; you have capital nurses nurses highly recommended nurses who never make mis- takes nurses who have served long in the family. But alas for that heart of sympathy, and for that sweet face, shaded with your pain like a soft landscape with flying clouds you have none of them ! Your pattern wife may come in from time to time to look after your nurse, or to ask after your sleep, and ^x\ glide out her silk dress rustling upon the door like dead leaves in the cool night breezes of winter. Or perhaps after putting this chair in its place, and adjusting to a more tasteful fold that curtain she will ask you, with a tone that might mean sympathy, if it were not a stranger to you if she can do anything more. Thank her as kindly as you can, and close 52 vcr Ibis Cigar your eyes, and dream or rouse up, to lay your hand upon the head of your little boy to drink in health, and happiness, from his earnest look, as he gazes strangely upon your pale and shrunken forehead. Your smile even, ghastly with long suffering, disturbs him ; there is no interpreter, save the heart, be- tween you. Your parched lips feel strangely, to his flushed, healthful face ; and he steps about on tiptoe, at a motion from the nurse, to look at all those rosy-colored medicines upon the table and he takes your cane from the corner, and passes his hand over the smooth ivory head ; and he runs his eye along the wall from picture to picture, till it rests on one he knows a figure in bridal dress beautiful, almost fond and he forgets himself, and says aloud " There's mamma ! " The nurse puts her finger to her lip ; yo waken from your doze to see where your eager boy is looking ; and your eyes, too, take in much as they can of that figure now shadowy to your fainting vision doubly shadowy to your fainting heart ! From day to day, you sink from life : the 53 vcr Ibis Cigar phj^sician says the end is not far off; why should it be ? There is very little elastic force within you to keep the end away. Madame is called, and your little boy. Your sight is dim, but they whisper that she is beside your bed; and you reach out your hand both hands. You fancy you hear a sob a strange sound ! It seems as if it came from distant years a confused, broken sigh, sweeping over the long stretch of your life : and a sigh from your heart not audible answers it. Your trembling fingers clutch the hand of your little boy, and you drag him towards you, and move your lips, as if you would speak to him ; and they place his head near you, so that you feel his fine hair brushing your cheek " My boy, you must love your mother ! " Your other hand feels a quick, convulsive grasp, and something like a tear drops upon your face. Good God! Can it be indeed a tear ? You strain your vision, and a feeble smile flits over your features, as you seem to see her figure the figure of the painting bending over you ; and you feel a bound at your heart the same bound that you felt on your bridal 54 ver Ibis Cigar morning ; the same bound which you used to feel in the spring-time of your life. Only one rich, full bound of the heart that is all ! My cigar is out. I could not have lit it again, if I would. It was wholly burned. " Aunt Tabithy " said I, as I finished read- ing " may I smoke now under your rose- tree ? " Aunt Tabithy, who had laid down her knit- ting to hear me smiled brushed a tear from her old eyes, said " Yes Isaac," and having scratched the back of her head, with the dis- engaged needle, resumed her knitting. 66 / X > x V- UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY ACI ITY A 000 077 431 5