Up In Smoke

She sent me a box of dainty cigars,

     And tho’ I never was known to joke,

I’ll tell you in private those dainty puffs

     Someday will go up in smoke.

She sent me a box of Christmas cigars,

     A beautiful sight to see;

They’ll go up in smoke, as I said before,

     But the smoke won’t be made by me.

Sept. 7, 1902