At a bal masqué in San Francisco a young lady appeared attired to represent _Nicotine_. Her dress was made of Tobacco leaves, her necklace was formed of cigars, and she carried a fan and a parasol constructed of the weed. My liver’s out of order, oh! Nicotina! A cloudy gloom doth o’er me flow, Nicotina! When blossoms fall as white as snow, I think of her of “Francisco,” Nicotina! I wriggle in my bitter woe, Nicotina! When the dark to light was growing, Nicotina! And the cock left off a crowing, Nicotina! Thin ones “oh”-ing, fat ones blowing, All unto the ball were going, Nicotina! I, too, went, to my o’erthrowing! Nicotina! In the ball-room fill’d with light, Nicotina! (Some were downstairs getting tight, Nicotina!) While thine eyes entranced my sight, Underneath the gay gaslight, Nicotina! I engaged you; you said “Right!” Nicotina! We danced in the whirling ball Nicotina! She loved my mask ’mong them all, Nicotina! She saw me slip, she heard me fall, When out stepp’d a rival tall, Nicotina! He kicked me hard, and made me bawl, Nicotina! The villain dragg’d thee on one side, Nicotina! The bitter beast, he went aside, Nicotina! The darn’d brute, he glanced aside, And took thee oft, my love, my bride, Nicotina! Thy dress, thy fan, and thee beside, Nicotina! Oh! narrow, narrow was the place, Nicotina! I call’d out as a donkey brays, Nicotina! Oh! dreadful looks were dealt apace, There was no room for dancing ways, Nicotina! And flat I went upon my face! Nicotina! They tried to smash me where I lay, Nicotina! I couldn’t rise and get away, Nicotina! No more I thought to see the day, They tried to smash me where I lay, Nicotina! They nearly turn’d my dust to clay, Nicotina!