He wondered, indeed, if delivering ice were not as loose a trade as typesetting had been, and whether his father would approve of it.

It was pleasanter than sitting in a dusty printing office, and the smells were less obtrusive.

Also, Bill Bardin went about bareheaded and clad above the waist only in a sleeveless jersey that was tight across his broad chest and gave his big arms free play.

He chewed tobacco, too, like a printer, but cautioned his young helper against this habit in early youth.

He said if indulged in at too tender an age it turned your blood to water and you died in great suffering.