HIS FIRST CIGAR.
“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.