l exactly right, and the street began to
rock from side to side, so that it was uncertain to us which side of the
street we were on. So we crossed over, but found ourself on the same side
that we were on before we crossed over. Indeed, we imagined that we were on
both sides at the same time, and several fast teams driving between. We met
another boy, who asked us why we looked so pale, and we told him we did not
look pale, but that he was pale himself.

We sat down under the bridge and began to reflect on the prospect of early
decease, and on the uncertainty of all earthly expectations. We had
determined to smoke the cigar all up and thus get the worth of our money,
but were obliged to throw three-fourths of it away, yet knew just where we
threw it, in case we felt better the next day.

Getting home, the old people were frightened, and demanded that we state
what kept us so late and what was the matter with us. Not feeling that we
were called to go into particulars, and not wishing to increase our
parents' apprehension that we were going to turn out badly, we summed up
the case with the statement that we felt miserable at the pit of the
stomach. We had mustard plasters administered, and careful watching for
some hours, when we fell asleep and forgot our disappointment and
humiliation in being obliged to throw away three-fourths of our first
cigar. Being naturally reticent, we have never mentioned it until this
time.

But how about our last cigar? It was three o'clock Sabbath morning in our
Western home. We had smoked three or four cigars since tea. At that time we
wrote our sermons and took another cigar with each new head of discourse.
We thought we were getting the inspiration from above, but were getting
much of it from beneath. Our hand trembled along the line; and strung up to
the last tension of nerves, we finished our work and started from the room.
A book standing on the table fell over; and although it was not a large
book, its fall sounded to our excited system like the crack of a pistol. As
we went down the stairs their creaking made our hair stand on end. As we
flung ourselves on a sleepless pillow we resolved, God helping, that we had
smoked our last cigar, and committed our last sin of night-study.

We kept our promise. With the same resolution went overboard coffee and
tea. That night we were born into a new physical, mental and moral life.
Perhaps it may be better for some to smoke, and study nights, a