File:Busyman's Magazine, July-December 1906 (1906) (14597199958).jpg

Identifier: busymansjuldec1906toro (find matches)
Title: Busyman's Magazine, July-December 1906
Year: 1906 (1900s)
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Publisher: Toronto
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: Algoma University, Trent University, Lakehead University, Laurentian University, Nipissing University, Ryerson University and University of Toronto Libraries

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boy. My means prohibit such luxuries. He tore the band off the cigar, andit occurred to Mr. Parslow, who kepthis on, that he had seen gentlemenwho ought to know better do thesame thing. A Murias, said the boy, rollingit critically between his fingers. Agood smoke, though I prefer a Larra-naga on the rare occasion I indulge.You wont take that unkindly, 1know. Mr. Parslow inclined his head gra-ciously ; he was waiting for thematches. The other knocked his pipe out andput his hand in his trouser pocket fora knife. That useful article, however. MB. PARSLOWS FELLOW-TRAVELLER 65 appeared to be missing, and in thesearch for it he disclosed some of thecontents of his pockets. Amongst other articles of youthfulacquisition, Mr. Parslow observedwith increasing bewilderment several as for foreign stamps, he knew boysof fifty who collected ; the coin, too,was probably off a watch-chain. Butthe marbles and jumping frog he wasquite unable to reconcile, unless—andthe thought came to him with some-
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1 U.l.-X. Abstracting a pennyworth of chocolate. pieces of string, some foreign stamps,a perforated silver coin, two glassmarbles and a jumping frog. String was useful—Mr. Parslow in-variably carried a piece himself ; andE thing like a shock—unless he was tak-ing them home for his children. Th-e object of these speculations re-turned the various articles to hispockets, anfl, biting the end of his 66 THE BUSY MANS MAGAZINE cigar, put it between his teeth andlit it. Yau will oblige me with a lightnow, said Mr. Parslow, holding outhis hand. I have already given my reasonfor not doing so, said the boy, put-ting the match-box away again. But after accepting my cigar yousurely cant refuse, said the out-raged Mr. Parslow. Ive no compunction on thatscore, replied the other, rolling thesmoke with his tongue and watchingit float up to the roof of the car-riage. I know perfectly well whyyou gave it me—you hoped it wouldmake me ill. My dear sir, protested Mr. Pars-low, artfully, why should

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