his last match from his gust.
But once alight--his holy joy
No blast from Heaven can destroy!

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

APRIL

Lady April, it is clear,
Is the spoilt child of the Year.
See her tears about to start--
Thus she melts old Winter's heart.
Now the gay deceiving thing
Turns and plays the deuce with Spring.
Winter lingers at her gate;
Spring grows chilly and irate.
I'd go home if I were he--
It is just such girls as she
Make a fellow thank his stars
For the solace of cigars.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

MAY

Like Brunhilda, May is won
By the kisses of the Sun.
Siegfried like, the maid he takes
In his arms and she awakes
To the tender piping sound
Of the birds--while all around
In a magic fire ring
Purple flames of Crocus spring.
Now I fill my fragrant briar,
Lo! it glows with gentle fire,
Wafting scented wreaths of love
To the little leaves above.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

JUNE

"What so rare as a day in June?"
Thus I heard the poet croon,
To the month of roses sweet,
His song with barometric feet.
Perfect days I own are rare--
All depends on how you fare.
Can a day be perfect to
The rose that has not sipped the dew?
Can the Bee, do you suppose,
Hum, that has not sipped the rose?
Can there be for Man, I say,
Without a smoke, a perfect day?

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

JULY

Red rockets skyward rush pell-mell
And fill the night with noise and smell.
The stars of Heaven look down, and say:
"So this is Independence Day!
Poor earth-born stars, it makes us sad
To see your fire work like mad
To make a Human Holiday.
Where is _your_ independence, pray?"--
Whereat I woke--my fire was low,
My pipe was out. Said I: "Heigho!
I never thought of it that way,
I'll give them both a holiday."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

AUGUST

Drowsing o'er my sainted briar,
Dreaming dreams of Heart's Desire,
Dreaming 'neath the August sun,
Thus my meditations run--
What if that great Ember bright
Were a monster Pipe alight,
Or the glowing from afar
Of some Fire-God's cigar?
If the Smoker's Peace abide
In that sun fire, multiplied
By its vastness, I will be
Henceforth a devout Parsee.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

SEPTEMBER

As the smoker