ccupant, while in
the rear the standing room was filled by the overflow. Upon the
counter of the bar were seated a dozen or more men, including the
schoolmaster, an itinerant pedagogue who "boarded around" and received
his pay in farm products, and the village lawyer, attired in a
claret-colored frock coat, who often was given a pig for a retainer,
or knotty wood, unfit for rails.

From his place, well to the front, the owner of the private equipage
surveyed the audience with considerable amusement and complacency. He
was fastidiously dressed in double-breasted waistcoat of figured silk,
loosely fitting trousers, fawn-colored kid gloves, light pumps and
silk hose. Narrow ruffles edged his wristbands which were fastened
with link buttons, while the lining of his evening coat was of
immaculate white satin. As he gazed around upon a scene at once novel
and incongruous, he took from his pocket a little gold case, bearing
an ivory miniature, and, with the eyes of his neighbors bent
expectantly upon him, extracted therefrom a small, white cylinder.

"What may that be, mister?" inquired an inquisitive rustic, placing
his hand on the other's shoulder.

The latter drew back as if resenting that familiar touch, and, by way
of answer, poised the cylinder in a tiny holder and deliberately
lighted it, to the amazement of his questioner. Cigarettes were then
unknown in that part of the state and the owner of the coach enjoyed
the dubious distinction of being the first to introduce them there.
"Since which time," says Chronicler Barnes in his memoirs, "their use
and abuse has, I believe, extended."

The lighting of the aboriginal American cigarette drew general
attention to the smoker and the doctor, not a man of modern small
pills, but a liberal dispenser of calomel, jalap, castor-oil and
quinine, whispered to the landlord:

"Azeriah, who might he be?"

"The heir of the patroon estate, Ezekiel. I found the name on his
trunks: 'Edward Mauville.'"

"Sho! Going to take possession at the manor?"

"He cal'lates to, I guess, ef he can!"

"Yes; ef he can!" significantly repeated the doctor. "So this is
the foreign heir? He's got wristbands like a woman and hands
just as small. Wears gloves like my darter when she goes to
meeting-house! And silk socks! Why, the old patroon didn't wear
none at all, and corduroy was good enough for him, they say.
Wonder how the barn-burners will take to the silk socks? Who's the
other stranger, Az