Thomas Edison was telling Mr Cary a story one day about the way his friends,
when they came into his office, would help themselves to his pure Havana cigars.
"They just take 'em by the handful," he said. "Why don't you lock them up?"
asked Mr Cary. "Never could remember to do it," returned Edison.
"Then, Johnson, my secretary you know, did a clever trick.
He had a friend in the cigar business and promised to get him to
make me some entirely of cabbage leaves and brown paper.
I thought that was a fine scheme. But the cigars didn't come,
so I asked him one day about it when I noticed my Havanas
disappearing again. 'Why, I sent them to you,' he said.
'I left them with your manager.' I called the manager in
and asked him where those cigars were. 'Why,' he said,
'I put them in your valise when you went to California
last month. I didn't know what they were.'"
"Do you know, Cary," continued Edison,
"I smoked everyone of those damned cigars myself!"