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Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, March 3rd, 1920 by Various
page 14 of 54 (25%)
I remarked that that was most satisfactory and closed my eyes.

He drew out a yellow packet of cigarettes, selected one and held them in my
direction. I declined and again closed my eyes.

"Very good, please yourself, it's one more for little Willie. All I can say
is that you're foolish not taking a good fag when it don't cost you
nothing. You don't catch me refusing a free fag even when I don't want to
smoke. I takes it and puts it in my cap for when I do. Pounds I've saved
that way, pounds and pounds."

He lit his limp tube of paper and mystery, stamped out the match and spat
deliberately on the floor.

"See me do that?"

I nodded with as much disgust as I could contrive.

"Know what them notices say I can get for that? Fined or imprisoned."

He paused for me to marvel at his daring.

"Think I'm mad to take risks like that, don't cher? Well, I aren't neither.
They couldn't catch me out, not they."

He brushed some ash off his lap on to mine and winked sagely.

"Suppose the guard was to come in here and start fining and imprisoning me
for it, do you know what I'd do? I'd swear _you_ did it."

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