Honus Wagner sat in the dugout. He was penning a virtuous letter to the American Tobacco Company.
I cannot allow my image to be used to hook children on the devil’s cigarette.
The voice was thick with moral authority.
Honus Wagner sealed the envelope and then tucked a baseball sized wad of chewing tobacco into his cheek. He then lit a thick cigar.
It is a disgusting habit, smoking these little paper sticks.
Honus Wagener exhaled a thick cloud of blue smoke. He leaned over and spat a dark jet of tobacco juice into a brass spittoon.
A man has to have standards.