back toss of her head. Had she swallowed them? Freddie stared at her in
alarm.

"Ain't you never comin' for the tobacco?" said Toby. "I can't keep all
them customers in the shop waiting all day."

Freddie followed him into the shop.

"You'll have to wait your turn, young feller," said Toby. "I can't keep
these customers waiting no longer. What'll you have, Mr. Applejohn?"

Freddie looked around for Mr. Applejohn, but so far as he could see
there was no one in the shop but himself and Mr. Littleback. The
hunchback went through the swinging gate and stood behind the counter,
and looked over it (his head and shoulders just came over the top) at
Mr. Applejohn.

"No," said Toby, "we're just out of it. Very sorry. But I have something
just as good. No? Well, then, come around tomorrow; yes, sir; between
ten and eleven. Now, then, Tom, it's your turn. You want what? No, sir,
I won't sell no cigarettes to no boy, so you can clear out. You ought to
be ashamed o' yourself, smoking cigarettes at your age. No use arguin',
I won't do it. You can get right out o' here." The big wooden-looking
head winked an eye at Freddie. "That's the way I treat 'em. Did you see
how he skipped off in a hurry? You saw him go, didn't you?"

Freddie looked at the door. He hadn't seen anybody, but after all that
talk there must have been somebody there; he couldn't be sure; probably
he had been mistaken about it; grown-up people ought to know what they
were talking about; perhaps he _had_ seen somebody. He hesitated.

"I--I think so; I believe so; yes, sir."

"Don't you fool yourself, young man. You can't smoke cigarettes if you
ever want to grow up. Look at me. Do you see this?" He turned his back
and reached over his shoulder to his hump. "Cigarettes. That's what done
it. Cigarettes. I smoked 'em along with my bottle of milk, regular, when
I was a kid, and look at me now, not much bigger than Mr. Punch out
there. Cigarettes. Maybe you might think it was the bottle o' milk done
it, instead of the cigarettes, being as they was at the same time; but
don't you never believe it. Cigarettes! You keep off of 'em. Now
pipe-tobacco! That's a different thing. If I'd only stuck to a pipe,
along with that bottle o' milk, look how high I'd 'a' been now! What
kind o' tobacco did you say your farver wanted? Housewife's Favorite?"

"No, sir," said Freddie. "My farver he wants half a pound of Cage-Roach
Mitchner."

"That's it," said Toby. "I don't see how