My Lady Nicotine

I am much better without tobacco, and already have a difficulty in sympathizing with the man I usedto be. Even to call him up, as it were, and regard him without prejudice is a difficult task, for we forgetthe old selves on whom we have turned our backs, as we forget a street that has been reconstructed. Does the freed slave always shiver at the crack of a whip? I fancy not, for I recall but dimly, and withoutacute suffering, the horrors of my smoking days. There were nights when I awoke with a pain at myheart that made me hold my breath. I did not dare move. After perhaps ten minutes of dread, I wouldshift my position an inch at a time. Less frequently I felt this sting in the daytime, and believed I wasdying while my friends were talking to me. I never mentioned these experiences to a human being;indeed, though a medical man was among my companions, I cunningly deceived him on the rareoccasions when he questioned me about the amount of tobacco I was consuming weekly. Often in thedark I not only vowed to give up smoking, but wondered why I cared for it. Next morning I wentstraight from breakfast to my pipe, without the smallest struggle with myself. Latterly I knew, whileresolving to break myself of the habit, that I would be better employed trying to sleep. I had elaborateways of cheating myself, but it became disagreeable to me to know how many ounces of tobacco I wassmoking weekly. Often I smoked cigarettes to reduce the number of my cigars.