Then came work--hard and exceedingly fruitless work--in looking for
something to do. Then Nature began paying attention to George Henry
Harrison personally, in a manner which, however flattering in a general
way, did not impress him pleasantly. His breakfast had been a failure,
and now he was as hungry as the leaner of the two bears of Palestine
which tore forty-two children who made faces at Elisha. He thought first
of a free-lunch saloon, but he had an objection to using the fork just
laid down by another man. He became less squeamish later. He was
resolved to feast, and that the banquet should be great. He entered a
popular down-town place and squandered twenty-five cents on a single
meal. The restaurant was scrupulously clean, the steak was good, the
potatoes were mealy, the coffee wasn't bad, and there were hot biscuits
and butter. How the man ate! The difference between fifteen and
twenty-five cents is vast when purchasing a meal in a great city. George
Henry was reasonably content when he rose from the table. He decided
that his self-imposed task was at least endurable. He had counted on
every contingency. Instinctively, after paying for his food, he strolled
toward the cigar-stand. Half-way there he checked himself, appalled.
Cigars had not been included in the estimate of his daily needs. Cigars
he recognized as a luxury. He left the place, determined but physically
unhappy. The real test was to come.

The smoking habit affects different men in different ways. To some
tobacco is a stimulant, to others a narcotic. The first class can
abandon tobacco more easily than can the second. The man to whom
tobacco is a stimulant becomes sleepy and dull when he ceases its use,
and days ensue before he brightens up on a normal plane. To the one who
finds it a narcotic, the abandonment of tobacco means inviting the
height of all nervousness. To George Henry tobacco had been a narcotic,