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Updated: May 20, 2025
"It seems to me," interrupted a grave man, who twirled his thumbs in that slow, deliberate way in which a contemplative man smokes "it seems to me that there's no more truth about the great sea-serpent than there is about the golden fleece. I don't believe in either of them." "Don't you?
After breakfast the Major smokes a cigarette and looks meditatively at the barometer, the captain gets his old accordion and squeezes out the Russian National Hymn, while Bush and I go on deck to inhale a few breaths of pure fresh fog, and chaff the second mate about his sea-serpent.
Two months before, by ruling out a schedule, noting down the hour and minute of each smoke, and ecstatically increasing the intervals between smokes, he had brought himself down to three cigars a day. Then he had lost the schedule. A week ago he had invented a system of leaving his cigar-case and cigarette-box in an unused drawer at the bottom of the correspondence-file, in the outer office.
Mr. Moses, the man of the eagle face, who keeps the record of death, as the neighbors call it, sits opulently in his door, and smokes his cigar; while his sharp-eyed daughters estimate exactly how much it is safe to advance on the last rag some lean wretch would pledge.
Parker flushed and was plainly ill at ease. Farrel turned to Kay. "I do not know yet where you folks came from, but I'll make a bet that I can guess in one guess." "What will you bet, my erudite friend?" the girl bantered. "I'll bet you Panchito against a box of fifty of the kind of cigars your father smokes." "Taken. Where do we hail from, Don Mike?" "From New York city." "Dad, send Mr.
I will tell you all when we meet. She leaves next Tuesday, and it half breaks my heart to see her go. Oh, Charley! Charley! why need she go at all?" He reads this letter as he smokes his cigar very gravely, very thoughtfully, wondering a great deal, but not in the least moved from his steadfast purpose. Parted on their wedding-day! he has heard that before, but hardly credited it.
Why should their apparitions content themselves with announcing the decease, at the Antipodes, of profoundly uninteresting relatives? Alas! I begin to perceive that spirits of the right kind, of the useful kind, have yet to be discovered. Our present-day ghosts are like seismographs; they chronicle the event after it has happened. Now, what we want is "The Signore smokes, and smokes, and smokes.
With the first jolt he was in daylight; they had left the gateways of King's Cross, and were under blue sky. Tunnels followed, and after each the sky grew bluer, and from the embankment at Finsbury Park he had his first sight of the sun. It rolled along behind the eastern smokes a wheel, whose fellow was the descending moon and as yet it seemed the servant of the blue sky, not its lord.
The Maalem smokes kief in furtive manner, as though orthodox enough to be ashamed of the practice, while M'Barak prepares plates and dishes for the evening meal. Around, in a semicircle, some ten yards away, the men and boys of the village sit observing us solemnly. They have little to say, but their surprise and interest are expressed quite adequately by their keen unfailing regard.
His impulsive dislike of Mrs. Sprockett caused him to leave her alone on the porch with his mother while he retired to the living room to read. The window to the porch was open. "Isn't it terrible?" he heard Mrs. Sprockett say. "They tell me that she had been married three times and smokes cigarettes right in front of everyone.
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