He ought to tap his clay on the palm of his hand, but he seldom does so, and I am strongly of opinion that when he does, it is only because he has forgotten that this is not the meerschaum.

Were he to tap the clay on the walls or on the ribs of the fireplace he would smash it, so he taps it on a coal.

About this there is something contemptible.

I am not complaining because he has little affection for his clay.

In face of all that has been said in honor of clays, and knowing that this statement will occasion an outcry against me, I admit that I never cared for clays myself.