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Updated: May 20, 2025
But, although he hasn't had the social advantages, perhaps, still he is a man of parts." Florrie sniffed and tossed her head. Virginia bit her lips and watched them. "Been smoking too many cigs, I guess, Sis," Elmer remarked apropos of the initial observation of Miss Engle which still rankled. "Got a regular cigarette fiend's cough. Gave 'em up. Hitting the pipe now."
Also at all villages where we stay, I make friends with some of the cottagers, and get lots of coffee and salads and washing done for me. I am getting quite a reputation for finding places to obtain a little meal to vary the Army rations. "Cigs are best in tins; in boxes they get very damp. Cheer on! Good luck to you. Zaidos handed back the letter with a smile. "Thank you very much," he said.
"I wonder what's keepin' him he's usually hangin' around here bawlin' for his grub like a spoiled calf, long afore cookie's got th' fire goin'." "Mebby he rustled some grub out with him I saw him tip-toein' out of th' gallery this mornin' when I come back for my cigs," remarked Hopalong, glancing at Billy. Billy groaned and made for the gallery.
Do you understand?" "Yes," mumbled the boy. "But I won't dream. I'm not nervous now. It's only when I can't get enough cigs that I'm nervous." "You should have seen him this afternoon," Tom continued, turning to his chum. "The lad and I took a walk. At every other step he kept imagining that he heard rattlesnakes rattling." "And I did, too," contended Alf stoutly. "You know I did.
If I was one of them rich young chaps that can plank down the money for a half-year's rent and a mahog'ny suite, like I do for a packet of cigs., you'd be ready to get married, Carrie?"
It can't be done. I first met the Reverend on the top of Box Hill one Saturday afternoon. Bike had punctured, and the Reverend gave me the loan of his cyclists' repairing outfit. We had our tea together. Watercress, bread-and-butter, and two sorts of jam one bob per head. He issued an invite to his diggings in the Temple. Cocoa and cigs. of an evening. Regular pally, him and me was.
Alf drew back, half-shuddering from the blackened clay pipe, filled with strong tobacco, which the cook passed him. "You're always itching to be a man," mocked the cook. "And now's your chance. A pipe is a man's smoke. Them cigs are fit only for 'sheeters." "I don't wanter smoke it," pleaded Alf, drawing back from the proffered pipe.
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