He mused a few moments, and
then said slowly, "Do you know, it is a very strange thing that I have
not found anybody who can answer me either of those questions. And yet
I must have come from somewhere," said he, speculatively--"yes, and I
must be going somewhere, and I should really like to know something
about it."
"I observe," said I, "that you smoke a good deal, and perhaps you find
tobacco clouds your brain a little."
"Smoke! Smoke!" repeated he, sadly, dwelling upon the words; "why, it
all seems smoke to me;" and he looked wistfully around the deck, and I
felt quite ready to agree with him.
"May I ask what you are here for," inquired I; "perhaps your health,
or business of some kind; although I was told it was a pleasure
party?"
"That's just it," said he; "if I only knew where we were going, I might
be able to say something about it. But where are you going?"
"I am going home as fast as I can," replied I warmly, for I began to
be very uncomfortable. The old man's eyes half closed, and his mind
seemed to have struck a scent.
"Isn't that where I was going? I believe it is; I wish I knew; I think
that's what it is called, Where is home?"
And the old man puffed a prodigious cloud of smoke, in which he was
quite lost.
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