dwindled away from his side, leaving the poor fellow without a soul
to countenance him in sipping his liquor, nor indeed any liquor to
sip. Not that this was quite the true state of the case; for I had
observed him at a critical moment filch a bottle of fourth-proof
brandy that fell beside the bonfire and hide it in his pocket.

The spirituous and fermented liquors being thus disposed of, the
zeal of the reformers next induced them to replenish the fire with
all the boxes of tea and bags of coffee in the world. And now came
the planters of Virginia, bringing their crops of tobacco. These,
being cast upon the heap of inutility, aggregated it to the size of
a mountain, and incensed the atmosphere with such potent fragrance
that methought we should never draw pure breath again. The present
sacrifice seemed to startle the lovers of the weed more than any
that they had hitherto witnessed.

"Well, they've put my pipe out," said an old gentleman, flinging it
into the flames in a pet. "What is this world coming to? Everything
rich and racy--all the spice of life--is to be condemned as useless.
Now that they have kindled the bonfire, if these nonsensical
reformers would fling themselves into it, all would be well enough!"

"Be patient," responded a stanch conservative; "it will come to that
in the end. They will first fling us in, and finally themselves."

From the general and systematic measures of reform I now turn to
consider the individual contributions to this memorable bonfire. In
many instances these were of a very amusing character. One poor
fellow threw in his empty purse, and another a bundle of counterfeit
or insolvable bank-notes. Fashionable ladies threw in their last