I like to smoke a good deal, but it wounds my sensibilities to see one of these stub-hunters watching me out of the corners of his hungry eyes and calculating how long my cigar will be likely to last.
It reminded me too painfully of that San Francisco undertaker who used to go to sick-beds with his watch in his hand and time the corpse.

One of these stub-hunters followed us all over the park last night, and we never had a smoke that was worth anything.

We were always moved to appease him with the stub before the cigar was half gone, because he looked so viciously anxious.

He regarded us as his own legitimate prey, by right of discovery, I think, because he drove off several other professionals who wanted to take stock in us.
Now, they surely must chew up those old stubs, and dry and sell them for smoking-tobacco.

Therefore, give your custom to other than Italian brands of the article.
"The Superb" and the "City of Palaces" are names which Genoa has held for centuries.