The Smoker's Year Book

The verses written on paper by

Oliver Herford

&

The pictures drawn on stone by

Sewell Collins

The whole published by

MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY NEW YORK 1908

Copyright, 1908, by MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY
NEW YORK

All rights reserved
Published, October, 1908

JANUARY

Now Time the harvester surveys

His sorry crops of yesterdays;

Of trampled hopes and reaped regrets,

And for another harvest whets

His ancient scythe, eying the while

The budding year with cynic smile.

Well, let him smile; in snug retreat

I fill my pipe with honeyed sweet,

Whose incense wafted from the bowl

Shall make warm sunshine in my soul,

And conjure mid the fragrant haze

Fair memories of other days.

FEBRUARY

Bend you now before the shrine

Of the good Saint Valentine.

Show to him your broken heart—

Pray the Saint to take your part.

Should he intercede in vain

And the maid your heart disdain,

Call upon Saint Nicotine;

He will surely intervene.

Bring burnt off'ring to his feet,

Incense of Havana, sweet.

Then the maiden's shade invoke,

It will disappear in smoke!

MARCH

Here comes bluff March—a cross between

A Jester and a Libertine.

He loves to make the parson race

With wicked words his hat to chase;

To dye with compromising rose

The pious man's abstemious nose.

The ladies hate him, though he shows

A pretty taste for silken hose.

The smoker views him with distrust,

Shielding his last match from his gust.

But once alight—his holy joy

No blast from Heaven can destroy!

APRIL

Lady April, it is clear,

Is the spoilt child of the Year.

See her tears about to start—

Thus