"But, O wherefore, dearest father, Are you ever, ever smoking This bad poisonous tobacco? I am frightened when I see you Sitting there in clouds enveloped As in times of fog the Eggberg. And I'm sorry for the gilded Picture-frames hung on the walls there, And the pretty snow-white curtains. Don't you hear their low complaining, How the smoke from your red-clay pipe Makes them faded, gray and rusty? 'Tis most truly a fine country, That America which once the Spanish admiral discovered. I myself take great delight in The gay plumage of the parrots, And the pink and scarlet corals; Dream at times also of lofty Graceful palm-groves, lonely log-huts, Cocoa-nuts, gigantic flowers, And of mischievous wild monkeys. I wish almost it were lying In the sea still undiscovered; All because of this tobacco Which has been imported hither. I can grant a man forgiveness, Who more often than is needed Draws his red wine from the barrel, And could get, if necessary, Reconciled unto his red nose; Never to this horrid smoking." Smiling had the Baron listened, Smiling he puffed many smoke-clouds From his clay-pipe, and then answered: "Dearest child, you women always Thoughtlessly do talk of many Things beyond your comprehension. It is true that soldiers often Take up many evil habits, Not adapted to the boudoir. But my daughter finds with smoking Too much fault; for through this habit I have won my wife and household. And because to-day so many Old campaign tales through my head run, Do not read to-night. Sit down here; I will now relate thee something Of this much-abused tobacco, And of thy blest angel mother." Sceptically, Margaretta With her large blue eyes looked at him, Took her work up to embroider, Coloured worsted and her needle, Moved her stool then near the Baron's Arm-chair, and sat down beside him. Charming picture! In the forest, Round the knotty oak thus climbeth The wild rose in youthful beauty. Then the Baron at one swallow Drank his wine, and thus related: