
"Bill on Tobacco" opens with the narrator smoking his pipe on the porch with Bill at evening, watching the hens, chickens, poults, and Zony bringing in the milk. The narrator enjoys his tobacco, noting Bill never smokes, chews, or dips, though he has long wondered why Bill denies himself this pleasure. After blowing smoke rings, Bill remarks on the smell of the narrator's tobacco, calling it "Dago's Joy" and joking that it smells like a buffalo robe on fire. The narrator takes offense but cools down, accusing Bill of knowing nothing about tobacco, claiming even a rabbit knows more about it than Bill. Bill answers that he once smoked and chewed more than anyone, from the time he rose until bed, until his wife Laury complained his mouth was like a sewer, and food lost its taste. He sought ever stronger tobacco, up to Black Twist Nigger Head, strong enough to sicken or kill a hog; he once gave a piece to a mule, which went wild, kicked out the barn door, and ran off like the Gadarenian swine, never seen again. Bill grew sallow and nervous but still could not satisfy his craving, scouring the country stores for stronger brands. Laury secretly fed him pills from a pedlar guaranteed to cure tobacco habits, but it made no difference since Bill didn't know she was dosing him. Bill explains that when the narrator first arrived at the depot smoking the same shag tobacco, one whiff did what thirty years of nothing else could: he has not chewed or smoked since. By the time the narrator recovers from this revelation, Bill has slipped away to bed.
By Payson Sibley Wild · Genre: Narrative Poetry, Rural/Rustic Literature, Dialect Literature · 2,061 words
I lit my pipe, an' set with Bill a spell / Out on the porch. The sun hed jes' went down; / The hens an' chickens, 'thout no 'parent aim, / Was gravitatin' towards the hen-house door; / The poults was floppin' int' the apple tree, / An' Zony come acrost the dewy yard / A-bringin' in the evenin' mess o' milk. / 'Twas peaceful like, an' I was tuckered out, / An' thet thar corn-cob tasted pow'ful good. / I hedn't hed a smoke sence noon, an' co'se / I'd be'n a-cravin' on't sence supper's over, / An' kind o' grudged ter hev ter gwout an' feed / The colts 'fore settin' down an' lightin' up. / But now the work was done, an' thar I was / Ez comf'tabul an' ca'm ez I could be, / Suckin' an' blowin' great big gobs o' smoke, / An' strangulatin' three four hundred flies / Thet got the'rsel's all settled fer the night. / Bill picked 'is teeth ez quiet ez a lamb, / An' didn't make no sound, 'cept 'cazhnully, / When one my puffs would veer agin 'is face, / He'd cough an' bresh the smoke off with 'is hand. / I'd never saw Bill smoke, or chaw, or "dip," / Sence I hed knowed 'im, tho' I'd offen wondered / Jes' why it was thet he denied hisself / About the bigges' comfort they is goin'.
tobacco · addiction · smoking · rural America · farm life · evening setting · nineteenth century · addiction recovery · temperance · self-denial · habit and craving · moral lesson
Bill on Tobacco is listed on Textopian as a short story by Payson Sibley Wild, dated Date unknown.
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