"I can 'elp!" persisted Albert. "Got a cigaroot?"
"Do you smoke, child?"
"When I get 'old of a cigaroot I do."
"I'm sorry I can't oblige you. I don't smoke cigarettes."
"Then I'll 'ave to 'ave one of my own," said Albert moodily.
He reached into the mysteries of his pocket and produced a piece of string, a knife, the wishbone of a fowl, two marbles, a crushed cigarette, and a match. Replacing the string, the knife, the wishbone and the marbles, he ignited the match against the tightest part of his person and lit the cigarette.
"I can help yer. I know the ropes."
"And smoke them," said George, wincing.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing."