The Holly chieftain., 1897-09-03
THE PASSING OF
THE CIGARE t TIE.
BY BREvET- MAJOR GOTHAM.
GO % a>s>eNc

TT Is a Darhelor's room 1t does no,
require ID feminine eye TO prove this
fact. ac,-.u'rd, as It is, b, the very rvi.
dent diSdrrny OF bachelors belongings
that lay -rrrwu about.
\ shoe last looks pcnslvely ont from
beneath q PAIR of trousers dangling
from the back Of a louugiug chair that
brcathes comfort from every indenta-
tion; a set Of very much used foils,
whose uIcl,"d appearance prove many
passages, companion fOwling piece
Of the latest pattern, and together with
numbeTless canes occupy the corner
next the door; pictures that smack of
stage, track and pigeon traps cover the
deep red linCrusta Of the walls. The
center of the mauy-toned eastern rug
is occupied by an antique writing
table, which, proud Of its position. an
grily reflects on its polished legs the
mapping flames of the logs that burn
their way so checrily on the gray Hat
stones of the large, open fireplace. 1t
Is the rooms chefcst charm, and being
so, is guarded by the griffin headed and
irons, that stand like Drazen scntiurls
to the right aud left, as If it was their
mission TO guard the blaIc.
The door opens to admit the master.
who closes it hastily. rs If to shut out
some following intangible thing.
He wrcnchcs impaiieutIy at his coat,
and tosses it aside to join lis companion
garment on the chair.
I,..
and a-half years he OWNS have had
ample time to grave their lines of char
acter upon the handsome face. White,
drawn, and of reckless cast. it is turned
toward far corner OF the room where
the shadows lay darkest.
A sound. ulmosta sigh, comes from be
tween the thin lips and then he turns aud
writes; hours pass, Yet he writes on un-
til the rattle of the pen upon the table
marks that the task H. finished.
The addressed envelope Oliuks at him
from the base of the clock where lie
carefully places it, NO one can fail
to see it there" he says, softly.
Returning to the chair, he opens a
filigree case and takes from its silvern
surroundings Of metal lace work a
cigarette, the last it contains.
The only one" he muttrrs. and the
lust" then lights it.
The scented clouds roll lightly and
lazily above the silent smoker for Il
brief space, then, half-consumcd, he
tosses the cigarette into queer re
ceiver, shaped like a Sahot. 1t splntters
at the touch OF the cold metal and
goes out.
Crossing quickly to where an old cab
met leans its weight against the wall,
lie takes from one of the many drawers
something that glittcrs in the trelight.
AS if with a purpose, he walks rapidly
to a doorway, parts the curtained por-
tails, pauses moment and then is hid
den by the black shadows beyond,
Hark. What's that dread noise? y
mufiled report has sounded from the
room behind the curtains; their silkeu
folds sway by n draught and open n
trifle to admit rings of steel-hucd
smoke, and a pungent odor fills The
outside room.
Holy smoke, what's that?" cries the
Cigarette, raising its gray head from
the little heap of warm ashes that has
formed its bed.
''Eh! what's the natter" queries
the Pipe, in answer, ilAily rolling over
on its polished side.
why, you old lightweight" :" answers
the excited Cigarette, dent you know
pistol shot when you hear it?"
MY esteemed friend OF the tissue
paper coat retorts the Pipe, stirred
to action by the Others marked un-
appreciation OF the dignity chat his
sort commands, you are nervous Pts.
tol shot in this room? You ar. eyazv,
But it's all from keeping late hours.
/ suppose; you were born to be light
headed" and with n satisfied glance at
his glittering silver bands. the Pipe
turns over and prepares to resume his
rudely-interrupted nap,
~ suppose you think you are funny
Mr.. Pipe!' sniffs the Cigarette, angrily.
perhaps you thinl5 that because you
have been dug out Of the ground and
have enjoyed the benefits OF a sea voy-
age, that you can lord it over me? WHY.
you old ash-sifter, can give you cards
nnd spades and beat you in a walk.
even il am machine-made."
Speak for yourself, Kid" growls ont
the Whist Pack, from his place on the
card rack. where he had been silent
listener to the alteration. Don't get
gay with me-l only deal with kings
and queens. and know my business"
"You know your business, do you ~
gets in the Cigarette, now erect in the
Receiver. And everybody else's, too; I;
don't you talk to me: you are nothing
but an old rounder. 1 know deal
about you"
''Ha! hal" roars the Pipe. That's
where he raps you, old fifty-two!"
The Whist Pack shuffles about un-
easily, until brilliant thought strikes
him. II may be half as black as / am
painted" he remarks, calmly, but
haven't got fly in my mouth-piece."
The Pipe tiushes under his tan. This