Off tumbles the bowl.
"Oh," she exclaims, "see what I have done! I am so sorry!" I pull myself together.

"Madame," I reply calmly, and bowing low, "what else was to be expected?
You came near my pipe--and it lost its head." She blushes, but cannot help being pleased; and I set my pipe for the next visitor.

By the help of a note-book, of course, I guarded myself against paying this very neat compliment to any person more than once.

However, after I smoked the Arcadia the desire to pay ladies compliments went from me.
Journeying back into the past, I come to a time when my pipe had a mouth-piece of fine amber.

The bowl and the rest of the stem were of brier, but it was a gentlemanly pipe, without silver mountings.