To a young man who stood smoking a cigar the other day there approached
the elderly and impertinent reformer of meek and mild reputation.
“How many cigars do you smoke a day?” asked the meddler.
“Three,” answered the youth, as patiently as he could.
“How much do you pay for them?”
“A shilling each,” confessed the young man.
“Don’t you know, sir,” continued the sage, “that if you saved that money,
by the time you are as old as I am you could own that big building over
the way?”
“Do you own it?” inquired the smoker.
“No.”
“Well, I do,” replied the young man.