"Phil! Phil! throw that away!" she said, trying to snatch it from him.
He sprang nimbly aside, "No, you don't, ma! Why shouldn't I smoke as well
as my father? Ministers smoke too, and lots of good people."
"But you're too young to begin yet, and I know your Aunt Elsie would be
horrified. She'd think you a very fast boy and hurry away with her
children, lest they should be contaminated by your bad example."
"Well," he answered, puffing away, "I'll not let her or them know I ever
indulge. I'll only smoke up here and at night, and the smell will be all
off my breath by morning."
"I wish you'd give it up entirely. Where did you ever learn it?"
"Comes natural; guess I inherited the taste. But nearly all the fellows at
school do it--on the sly."
"Ah, Phil, I'm afraid you're a sad fellow!" Lucy said, shaking her head
reprovingly; but he could see the smile shining in her fond, admiring
eyes, and lurking about the corners of her mouth.
"Oh, come now, ma, I'm not so bad; not the worst fellow in the world. I
wouldn't do a mean thing."
"No, of course not," she said, kissing him good-night, and leaving him
with a parting, "Don't forget to say your prayers, Phil.
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