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"Hardly; but why should a man drink or smoke just because he may have been in business for some time?" "True enough," said he, "and had I always let drink alone I could have been a rich man; and I'll never take another drop." "I hope you won't," I replied.

We pulled together some half rotten lain trees. Our fire wouldn't burn hardly, and couldn't dry our things, and had to sit up all night with wet clothes on, near our fire, or rather near our smoke, as the wood being too rotten that it wouldn't burn. About two o'clock the wind turned westward, the rain ceased, but it began to snow very hard.

"Been down in Honduras all that time?" "Yes, sir." "And you live to tell it? You are my idea of a real man!" Rufus Shepley said. Shepley took a cigar from his vest pocket, bit off the end, lighted it, and puffed a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air. Rufus Shepley was a man of fifty, and looked his age.

I could see precipices looking like sides of wells, lakes that seemed to be changed into ponds, ponds that looked like puddles, and rivers that were transformed into petty brooks. To my right were glaciers upon glaciers, and multiplied peaks, topped with light clouds of smoke.

But these respites were short. A call and a crackle of fire at their elbows brought them back to business, to the grim business of purposeful and methodical killing, of wiping out that moving wall that was coming steadily at them again through the smoke and flame of the bursting shells.

For this purpose they are sent out to what is termed a bleachfield, although those who should visit such a place in hopes of seeing a verdant lawn, strewn with the white folds of muslin waving in the summer breeze, would be grievously disappointed. A bleachfield is simply a huge steam wash-house, with red brick walls and a tall chimney vomiting smoke, with not a particle of turf about it.

"I think we're goin' to have a breeze, Bob," said he, as a sharp puff of wind crossed the deck, driving the black smoke to leeward, and making the fire flare up in the try-works. "I hope it won't be a storm, then," said I, "for it will oblige us to put out the fires."

Another white puff of smoke, and another shot sent skipping after the lugger, but with what result we could not see. The firing made no difference, though, to the lugger, which continued its course towards the west, and Bigley gave me a triumphant look from time to time.

Fast as his horse galloped, the flames went faster, leaping as it were from tree to tree with a loud roar and crackle, the thick smoke forming a black cloud overhead, while kangaroos and other animals rushed out of the bush to find safety in the open country. Had Joseph been able to venture through the forest he would soon have reached his hut, but he had to make a long round to avoid it.

Actually, we may think, the "sweet society" of those four years, in comparison with which the rest of his so pleasant life "was but smoke," had touched Montaigne's nature with refinements it might otherwise have lacked. He would have wished "to speak concerning it, to those who had experience" of what he said, could such have been found.