Irishman, and inconsistent with the spirit, life, and animation that should be characteristic of youth. Old as we are, we think of taking to quizzing again, but we shall never fall into such a solemn absurdity as smoking for applause. It would not suit our temperament. But we have said that we had made the discovery that the practice of cigar-smoking is any thing but a pleasant one in itself, and that it is indulged in solely from ambitious motives, and an amiable love of applause. Yes, reader, and we shall induct you into our knowledge of the matter, by a true and faithful narrative of the incident which enabled us to ascertain the fact. We were lately coming along that favourite lounge of the cigar-smokers, Sackville Street, when, arriving near Mitchell’s, two young well-dressed, moustached, and imperialled dandies, stept out from that intellectual emporium, each with a Havannah in his mouth, his hands in his “Dorsay” pockets, and looking as grave as possible, evidently impressed with the pleasing idea that they were the admiration and envy of all passers. They proceeded before us in solemn slinge in the direction of the Rotunda, we following in their wake, observant yet not observed; and before they reached Earl Street, they were met by a mutual friend, with whom they linked, putting him between them, to allow them the greater facility to spit out, when the following colloquy ensued:-- _Friend._ Well, Tom, how goes the world with you? and, Dick, my boy, how is every bit of you? _Tom and Dick._ Puff---- Puff---- Well. _Friend._ Are you long in town--eh? _Tom and Dick._ Puff---- Puff---- No. _Friend._ How did you leave them all in the country?--how is the old fellow? _Tom and Dick._ Puff---- Puff---- Puff---- Well. _Friend._ Oh, damn ye! there’s no getting a word out of you but a monosyllable. _Tom and Dick._ Puff---- Puff---- (And then each of them spat out.) _Friend._ Why, Tom, you’ve become a great smoker. _Tom._ Puff---- Puff---- Yaws. _Friend._ And you too, Dick? _Dick._ Puff---- Puff---- Ees. (The imperfect vocable being squeezed out through his teeth at the left corner of his mouth.) _Friend._ And do you find it agree with you, Tom--is it pleasant? Tom here, after a few puffs, slowly draws one hand out of his pocket, and taking the cigar out of his mouth, spits out, draws his breath, and after a minute replies: “No, _blast_ it; it always makes me sick.” He then restores the cigar to his mouth and his hand to his pocket, while his friend puts a similar interrogatory to Dick. “And does it always make you sick too?” Here Dick, having in like manner indulged in a few puffs, takes the cigar out of his mouth, spits out at the other side, and drawing breath and looking very pale, answers: “Infernally!” _Friend._ In the name of heaven, then, what do you both smoke for?