Cigarettes are destroying 'em.

There! I've beaten up every bit of this brush and you see that I've not been bitten.

Now I'll help you down to the ground, and you want to get a good, steadying grip on your nerves." Alf Drew permitted himself to be helped to the ground.

No sooner, however, had his feet touched the earth than there came that ominous rattling sound.
"There, you big idiot!" howled Alf.

"There it is again!" "Just your bad nerves, Alf," Tom smiled.