They wouldn't do for my type, standin' where the brook and river meet up.

I hate a cigarette worse'n anything.

You--I bet you'd give up food first." "I hate 'em, too," he muttered grudgingly, glad to be able to say this, even though only to one whose attentions he meant to discourage.

"If I have to smoke one more it'll finish me." "Now, ain't that the limit?
Too bad, Kid!" "I didn't even have any of my own.

That Spanish girl gave me these." The Montague girl glanced over his shoulder at the young woman whose place she had usurped.