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- 4614
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- 2026-01-28T17:35:34.205Z
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- 4523
- text
- smoked anything before but cigars made of grapevine, and they “bit” the
tongue, and were not considered manly anyway.
Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff,
charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant taste,
and they gagged a little, but Tom said:
“Why, it’s just as easy! If I’d a knowed this was all, I’d a learnt long
ago.”
“So would I,” said Joe. “It’s just nothing.”
“Why, many a time I’ve looked at people smoking, and thought well I wish
I could do that; but I never thought I could,” said Tom.
“That’s just the way with me, hain’t it, Huck? You’ve heard me talk just
that way—haven’t you, Huck? I’ll leave it to Huck if I haven’t.”
“Yes—heaps of times,” said Huck.
“Well, I have too,” said Tom; “oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the
slaughter-house. Don’t you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and
Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don’t you remember,
Huck, ’bout me saying that?”
“Yes, that’s so,” said Huck. “That was the day after I lost a white
alley. No, ’twas the day before.”
“There—I told you so,” said Tom. “Huck recollects it.”
“I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day,” said Joe. “I don’t feel
sick.”
“Neither do I,” said Tom. “I could smoke it all day. But I bet you Jeff
Thatcher couldn’t.”
“Jeff Thatcher! Why, he’d keel over just with two draws. Just let him
try it once. _He’d_ see!”
“I bet he would. And Johnny Miller—I wish could see Johnny Miller tackle
it once.”
“Oh, don’t I!” said Joe. “Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn’t any more
do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch _him_.”
“’Deed it would, Joe. Say—I wish the boys could see us now.”
“So do I.”
“Say—boys, don’t say anything about it, and some time when they’re
around, I’ll come up to you and say, ‘Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.’
And you’ll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn’t anything, you’ll
say, ‘Yes, I got my _old_ pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain’t
very good.’ And I’ll say, ‘Oh, that’s all right, if it’s _strong_
enough.’ And then you’ll out with the pipes, and we’ll light up just as
ca’m, and then just see ’em look!”
“By jings, that’ll be gay, Tom! I wish it was _now_!”
“So do I! And when we tell ’em we learned when we was off pirating,
won’t they wish they’d been along?”
“Oh, I reckon not! I’ll just _bet_ they will!”
So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and
grow disjointed. The silences widened; the expectoration marvellously
increased. Every pore inside the boys’ cheeks became a spouting
fountain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tongues
fast enough to prevent an inundation; little overflowings down their
throats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings
followed every time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable,
now. Joe’s pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom’s followed. Both
fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with might and
main. Joe said feebly:
“I’ve lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it.”
Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance:
“I’ll help you. You go over that way and I’ll hunt around by the spring.
No, you needn’t come, Huck—we can find it.”
So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome,
and went to find his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, both
very pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if they had
had any trouble they had got rid of it.
They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look,
and when Huck prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare
theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well—something they ate
at dinner had disagreed with them.
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