“I picked it up the other day,” Harry explained, “and this is how it is: They call it 'snuff-dipping' in the South,” he continued, “and it is very much the fashion among the middle and lower-class whites down in the cotton states, but not much in Missouri as yet. They take a little stick and chew the end until it's soft like a brush; then they dip this moist brush in snuff and rub it on the gums and around the mouth generally, and in this way they use up a good deal of snuff in the course of a year. It is said to produce a pleasant sort of mild intoxication, and after using it a little while a woman gets as much addicted to snuff-dipping as a man does to chewing tobacco or smoking. It's the same sort of vice, and I can't say I blame the women much, when all the men around them are chewing or smoking tobacco.”
“Do they all use it?” queried Jack; “I mean do the young women dip snuff the same as the older ones?”
“I did n't think to ask that question,” Harry responded; “but the man who told me said the women who dipped snuff mostly did it 'on the sly,' at any rate in the beginning of it. Probably they get bolder about it in time, just as boys do when they learn to smoke. After a while they get accustomed to snuff, and don't get the excitement out of it that they want, and then they take to smoking pipes just like men.”
Later observation convinced Jack that Harry had been correctly informed. The further they went in the South the more they found the use of tobacco prevailing among the women, and in several instances they found little concealment practiced in the custom of snuff-dipping. At one house where they called a middle-aged woman held her snuff-stick in her mouth all the time she was talking with them, just as a man might hold a cigar there, and an older woman sat by the fireplace smoking a corn-cob pipe with the utmost indifference to the presence of the young visitors.
They did not stop again until early in the afternoon, when they called at a house and asked if they could have dinner. There was a man about the premises, in addition to the woman and the usual complement of tow-headed children. He promptly said they hadn't much to offer, but the boys should be welcome. He had nothing but hog and hominy, and he reckoned that was all they would find anywhere on the road.
Jack took the lead as spokesman, and assured him that hog and hominy was good enough for anybody, and was all they wanted; and he further said that cold hog was just as good for them as hot, and if there was any cold in the house it would make them a first-rate dinner.
This avowal of democratic principles smoothed the way at once, and in a little while dinner was ready. Fried bacon and cornbread constituted the repast, which was washed down with milk, the boys intimating that they preferred it to any other beverage, partly for the reason that it was nutritious and partly because of the general scarcity of tea and coffee through all the war-stricken region. The host was not inclined to be talkative on the topics that were just then the most absorbing, probably for the reason that he did n't know exactly who and what his visitors might be, and preferred to remain neutral. Many men in Missouri tried to adopt this course, but sooner or later most of them were drawn into the war on one side or the other; neutrality was next to impossible where a man was able to bear arms or contribute in any way to the contest which involved the existence or the destruction of the nation.
When the meal was over Jack asked how much they owed for it. The man said he did n't want anything, but if they had fifty cents to spare for the children it might come handy. Accordingly Jack gave twenty-five cents to one of the children, Harry gave the same amount to another, and everything was satisfactory.
Just as they arose from the table there was the sound of hoofs outside, which drew everybody to the door. The hearts of the youths beat a little faster than usual when they saw eight or ten horsemen riding up to the house and ranging themselves in front of it.