As Uncle Bobbie stood listening to the lonely sounds
and looking at the young man, with his corn-cob pipe and pack of dirty
cards, he thought of his own cheery fireside and of his waiting wife.
"To-be-sure," he said at last, carefully placing his umbrella in a
corner near the door, and as carefully removing his coat and hat;
"To-be-sure, I quit smokin' sometime ago--'bout a month, I reckon--used
to smoke pretty nigh all the time, but wife she wanted me to quit--I
don't know as there is any use in it." A long pause followed, as he
drew a chair to the stove and seated himself. "To-be-sure, I don't
know as there's any great harm in it either." There was another pause,
while Dick also placed his chair near the stove--"and I git so plaguey
fat every time I quit."
Dick tilted back and lazily blew a soft cloud into the air. Uncle
Bobbie arose and placed the coal bucket between them. "Told mother
last night I was gettin' too fat again--but it made me sick last time
I tried it--I wonder if it would make me sick now."--A longer pause
than usual followed--then: "It's really dangerous for me to get so
fat, and smokin' 's the only thing that keeps it down. D'ye reckon it
would make me sick again?" He drew a cigar from his pocket, almost as
big as a cannon fire-cracker and fully as dangerous. "I got this t'day.
Looks like a pretty good one. It didn't use to make me sick 'fore I
quit the last time." Dick handed him a match and two minutes later the
big cigar was burning as freely as its nature would permit.
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