“But what of the pleasures, doctor?”
“True, I had forgotten them,” I replied.
* * * * *
We sat for some time, young Smith and I, silently gazing into the fireplace. My cigar having gone out, I relighted it and began puffing vigorously, with the result of blowing some dense clouds of smoke in the direction of my visitor. A sharp cough, followed by a decided sputter, reminded me of my unintentional discourtesy.
“Pardon me, my boy, but I forgot that you are not used to tobacco.”
The wise child smiled, and with a humorous twinkle in his bright eyes replied:
“Well, doctor, you haven’t given me much opportunity to become inured to it this evening—save by proxy, and there are some things that cannot be done by proxy with any degree of satisfaction.”
“Good heavens, boy! You don’t mean to say that you smoke?”
“Don’t I, though? Just try me and see.”
Amazed though I was, I politely extended my cigar case. With the air of a connoisseur, my visitor selected one, bit off the end, and, taking my proffered match, lighted the weed and began smoking, with all the sang froid of an old timer.