"Have a weed?" asked Murray, producing his cigar-case.
"I am obliged to you, but I don't smoke."
"You don't use tobacco or liquor in any form, do you?"
George replied that he never had and never would.
"I wish from the bottom of my heart that I could say the same thing," said Murray. "I am a total abstainer now so far as liquor is concerned, but tobacco gets me. It would be useless for me to make any pretensions to goodness in your presence, for you know more about my habits than I wish you did. You saw the company I kept on board the Quitman; and I don't mind telling you, confidentially, that I came pretty near getting myself into a row by it. If I could only keep away from the bar, I should soon be better off in the world than I am now."
"Then, why don't you do it?" asked George.
"Ah! That's just it. Why don't I? How shall I go to work?"
"Begin by throwing away that cigar," said George promptly.
"There she goes!" exclaimed Murray; and as he spoke, the cigar left his hand and went over into the barge among the coal.
"Now," continued George, "say that you will never go near the bar again, and stick to it. That's all there is of it."