Mr. G. Excuse me: whining is not allowed to a true Mussulman.
C. Some snuff, however.
Mr. G. The best to be had.
W. Take some of mine; I have cropped the flower of the shop.
J. You sneeze, C. I thought you too old a snuff-taker for that.
C. The air of the water always makes me sneeze. It’s the Persian gulf here.
W. This is a right pinch, friend C. I’ll help you at another, as you’ve helped me.
C. Snuff’s a capital thing. I cannot help thinking there is something providential in snuff. If you observe, different refreshments come up among nations at different eras of the world. In the Elizabethan age, it was beef-steaks. Then tea and coffee came up; and people being irritable sometimes, perhaps with the new light let in upon them by the growth of the press, snuff was sent us to “support uneasy thoughts.” During the Assyrian monarchy, cherry-brandy may have been the thing. I have no doubt Semiramis took it; unless we suppose it too matronly a drink for So-Mere-a-Miss.
(Here the whole Assyrian monarchy is run down in a series of puns.)
H. Gentlemen, we shall make the Tour of Babel before we have done.