"Oh, it's something you sign," and Betty, offering no further explanation, wrote her pledge. Having never seen a temperance pledge, this was not an easy thing to do. Betty tried many times, and destroyed nearly all her best tablet before she decided upon the correct form. All this scribbling she did in the presence of the impatient Billy.
"Now read it," he begged, when Betty folded several sheets of paper instead of destroying them.
"I am afraid you won't understand it, Billy," she said, doubtfully, "but it means, 'I won't drink any more whiskey and things.' Now listen, Billy; I'd like to hear how it sounds myself: 'When in the course of human events it becomes necessary to touch not, taste not, handle not, look not upon the wine when it is red, give me liberty or give me death before I ever touch another drop.'"
"Oh, Betty, that's good; course I understand it. Why, it sounds just like the Fourth of July last year!"
"There now, Billy, I shall have to read it all over again if I find out how it sounds, because that's only the short beginning."
"Why, Betty, but that's enough! If he signs that and promises that he won't drink another drop, why, why, that's the place to stop, Betty."
"I don't know but you're right, Billy, but lawyers put in lots of words they don't need when they write things, and they never stop when they get through. You see, I haven't read you the 'whereas' and 'now therefore' part. I wanted this pledge to sound as if a lawyer made it. You see, Billy, I know, because I read everything."
"I don't care," Billy maintained, "you might get him mixed."
"That's so," admitted Betty.
"And then, too, Bet, why don't you say 'before I drink another drop—of whiskey,' in big capital letters."