CHAPTER V.
MY TOBACCO-POUCH.
[Illustration] I once knew a lady who said of her husband that he looked nice when sitting with a rug over him.

My female relatives seemed to have the same opinion of my tobacco-pouch; for they never saw it, even in my own room, without putting a book or pamphlet over it.

They called it "that thing," and made tongs of their knitting-needles to lift it; and when I indignantly returned it to my pocket, they raised their hands to signify that I would not listen to reason.

It seemed to come natural to other persons to present me with new tobacco-pouches, until I had nearly a score lying neglected in drawers.

But I am not the man to desert an old friend that has been with me everywhere and thoroughly knows my ways.
Once, indeed, I came near to being unfaithful to my tobacco-pouch, and I mean to tell how--partly as a punishment to myself.
[Illustration] The incident took place several years ago.