Pwomise, Jack. You
don't know how much better you'll feel."

"I'm not strong on signing pledges and that sort of thing," said Skippy
cautiously.

"Oh no, juth pwomise."

"For how long?"

"Until you're twenty-one."

"I think it's better to promise what you're sure you can carry out,
don't you? It has a better effect," said Skippy craftily. "Tell you what
I'll do. I'll make a promise for a year. Only there's one thing."

"What's that?"

"I'll promise to try and cut out the smoking, but it will have to be
little by little."

"Jack!"

"My nerves won't stand it," said Skippy, bringing forth the
nicotine-splotched hand. "I'll do my best. I will, I'll do it for you.
I'll cut down to a box a day."

"A box?"

"Ten cigarettes, only ten, but I must have ten," said Skippy hungrily.
"But Jennie, you'll have to help a lot."

"You'll pwomise then?"

"I pwomise," said Skippy, falling into the lisp.

He extended his hand and profiting by the solemnity of the moment held
it with the softest and gentlest of thrills, while he said slowly:

"Ten cigarettes a day. No more. That's my solemn promise."

"But the gambling?" said Miss Jennie, disengaging her hand.

"That's another promise," said Skippy, taking her hand again. "I promise
for the space of one year, never to sit in a game of poker for money,
never to shoot craps with Tacks Brooker or Happy Mather. . . ."

"Ith thith nethethawy?" said Miss Tupper blushing and seeking to free
her hand from the not too painful embrace.

"I want to be sure of everything," said Skippy retaining tight hold.
"Never to frequent race tracks, that's a promise too, or to bet on the
ponies, or to go into pool rooms."

"That's quite enough," said Miss Tupper, glancing nervously up towards
the veranda.

"But I haven't promised to give up drinking and all that sort of thing,"
said Skippy enthusiastically.

Miss Tupper, in whom a slight suspicion was beginning to grow as to the
exact motives back of the sudden conversion, hesitated, but finally put
forth her hand a third time.

"I promise," said Skippy, drawing a deep breath and sailing away on
perfumed clouds to an invisible choir. "I want to make this something
terrific; it's the most important you know. I promise for the space of
one year,--so long as you care enough to answer my letters, that's only
fair you know--I promise never to touch a drop of beer or ale, or
whiskey, or rum, or brandy, or sherry, or port, or . . ."

"Alco