opinion on this weed of fabled size and merit. [Illustration] When the evening and company had come, he was rather staggered at beholding the dimensions of the pseudo-cigar; but, rashly judging that to express surprise would be to betray ignorance, Mr. Verdant Green inspected the formidable monster with the air of a connoisseur, and smelt, pinched, and rolled his tongue round it, after the manner of the best critics. If this was a diverting spectacle to the assembled guests of Mr. Bouncer, how must the humour of the scene have been increased, when our hero, with great difficulty, lighted the cigar, and, with still greater difficulty, held it in his mouth, and endeavoured to smoke it! As Mr. Foote afterwards observed, "it was a situation for a screaming farce." "It doesn't draw well!" faltered the victim, as the bundle of rubbish went out for the fourth time. "Why, that's always the case with the Barbadoes baccy!" said Mr. Bouncer; "it takes a long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull all together to get it to make a start; but when once it does go, it goes beautiful--like a house a-fire. But you can't expect it to be like a common threepenny weed. Here! let me light him for you, Giglamps; I'll give the beggar a dig in his ribs, as a gentle persuader." Mr. Bouncer thereupon poked his pen-knife through the rubbish, and after a time induced it to "draw;" and Mr. Verdant Green pulled at it furiously, and made his eyes water with the unusual cloud of smoke that he raised. "And now, what d'ye think of it, my beauty?" inquired Mr. Bouncer. "It's something out of the common, ain't it?" "It has a beautiful ash!" observed Mr. Smalls. "And diffuses an aroma that makes me long to defy the trainer, and smoke one like it!" said Mr. Blades. "So pray give me your reading--at least, your opinion,--on my Magnifico Pomposo!" asked Mr. Foote. "Well," answered Mr. Verdant Green, slowly--turning very pale as he spoke,--"at first, I thought it was be-yew-tiful; but, altogether, I think--that--the Barbadoes tobacco--doesn't quite--agree with--my stom--" the speaker abruptly concluded by dropping the cigar, putting his handkerchief to his mouth, and rushing into Mr. Bouncer's bedroom. The Magnifico Pomposo had been too much for him, and had produced sensations accurately interpreted by Mr. Bouncer, who forthwith represented in expressive pantomine, the actions of a distressed voyager, when he feebly murmurs "Steward!" [Illustration]