We all gradually shook into our places.

Very soon a passenger looked me steadily in the face; he evidently was going to speak; I quailed inwardly, dreading he was going to object to the smell of smoke.

Oh, joyous sight! a cigar appeared between his fingers, and the re-assuring words came forth--"A light, sir, if you please." I never gave one more readily in my life.

Gradually, passenger after passenger produced cigars; the aroma filled the coach, and the fragrance of the weed triumphed over the foetor of the polecat.

Six insides out of nine hard at it, and four of them with knock-me-down Virginia tobacco, the single human odour could not contend against such powerful odds; as well might a musquito sneeze against thunder.