A Smoke of Manila by Rudyard Kipling — Read

The man from Manila held the floor. "Much care had made him very lean and pale and hollow-eyed. " Added to which he smoked the cigars of his own country, and they were bad for the constitution. He foisted his Stinkadores Magnificosas and his Cuspidores Imperiallissimos upon all who would accept them, and wondered that the recipients of his bounty turned away and were sad. "There is nothing," said he, "like a Manila cigar. " And the pink pyjamas and blue pyjamas and the spotted green pyjamas, all fluttering gracefully in the morning breeze, vowed that there was not and never would be.[4]

"Do the Spaniards smoke these vile brands to any extent? " asked the Young Gentleman travelling for Pleasure as he inspected a fresh box of Oysters of the East. "Smoke 'em! " said the man from Manila; "they do nothing else day and night. " "Ah! " said the Young Gentleman travelling for Pleasure, in the low voice of one who has received mortal injury, "that accounts for the administration of the country being what it is. After a man has tried a couple of these things he would be ready for any crime."