“Please, mister, give me a cigar!”
The request was made by Tolomeo, but was not granted by the person
addressed. Tolomeo had seen men smoking. They seemed to enjoy it. He
wished to smoke too. His income as a news-boy was not large enough to
buy cigars, so he had never smoked.
While he was wishing for a cigar, he saw a man throw away the one he was
smoking. It was quite a large piece, and Tolomeo ran for it. He felt
very grand as he thrust one thumb into his trousers and held the cigar
just as he had seen men hold theirs. He drew the smoke into his mouth,
then let it out, trying to form little rings. He did not know how,
exactly, but he tried to learn, feeling like a big man.
His attention was presently called from his smoking to a queer feeling
in his mouth and stomach. There was trouble all along the line between
the two, and Tolomeo was miserable. The stump of the cigar was
forgotten. He only knew about his dreadful feelings.
“Hello, old fellow, what’s the matter?” A voice in his ears and a thump
on his back, showed the presence of a friend.
“I’m sick!”
“Seems to me I smell smoke. I say Tolomeo have you been making a chimney
of yourself?”
Tolomeo did not answer.
“That’s what’s the matter; you’ve been smoking.”
“I guess smoking don’t make fellows sick.”
“Don’t it though. Tried it before?”
“I can’t say, I have.”
“Ha-ha, ha-ha” laughed the friend.
“Keep quiet will you. Men wouldn’t smoke if it made them feel as I do.”
“Don’t you make a mistake. Most of them have just such a time at first.”
Tolomeo was amazed. He wondered how anybody could get enough fun out of
smoking to pay for such bad feelings. He didn’t try again although he
was told if he smoked often enough he would feel all right. “What’s the
use any way?” he said. “If I grew to like smoking, I’d buy cigars and
have less money for clothes than I have now. Besides I want to save
enough to go to the ball-game. I want my money for lots of things more
fun than smoking.”