Hearing her mother express her mind so often against this "filthy weed" she learned the many arguments against its use and resolved that she would do everything in her power to prevent her friends from raising or having anything to do with it.
One thing she knew—she never, no, never would marry a man who used tobacco.
Thomas was so much older than herself she was afraid to speak to him as her heart often moved her, about certain habits she feared he was learning.
So the years went by. The great war of the Rebellion came on. Young boys were joining the army. Word came that Thomas had enlisted and with many other young persons was on his way to the front where men of the North and South were shooting each other down by the thousand.
Those were awful days. Not so much because many died on the battlefield and suffered in loathsome prisons, but because of the bad habits many of the young soldiers acquired by being among wicked associates.
Thomas passed through some dreadful experiences. He does not like to speak of them now, telling them only when he is urged.
He was in battle after battle and saw many of his comrades shot down by his side. He was also in prison.
But the war came to an end. He returned and brought with him many things, among them a great love for tobacco.
You need not wonder. Nearly all the soldiers loved tobacco; the majority, I fear, played cards and drank whiskey, and took God's name in vain.
Thomas escaped everything except tobacco, although he had seen so much of the other things.