“He is a little diplomat, that I see from your story,” commented one of the group of ladies who had gathered about.
“Boys are dears,” offered a little old lady, dressed in quiet gray that matched the silver of her waving hair and brought out the wonderful blue of her beautiful eyes, still alight with youthful fire. “Of course I never had a son, nor a daughter either, for that matter, but years ago I lived next to a little girl named Alice, and then I decided that girls were really nicer than boys.
“Alice was the brightest child, and it was my delight that she came to my home for a daily call.
“I always kept a jar of cookies in the kitchen cupboard, just in easy reach for her, for Alice was passionately fond of cookies, and especially if they boasted a raisin in the center. She always visited that cupboard as soon as she came in, and always found the jar was waiting for her with its store.
“But one day her mother told me the habit must not be allowed to grow, and so I promised faithfully to do my part.
“It was not long until Alice, her curls bobbing and her eyes dancing with fun, came running in to see me. Straight to that cupboard door she went, and opening it, was about to reach for the sweet cake when she discovered the jar empty—empty for the first time in weeks and months!
“Looking at me out of the corner of her eye, she tapped on the jar and inquired:
“‘Any tookies at home to-day?’”
“And you?” asked one of the bystanders, eager for the rest of the incident.
“Well, I—I didn’t keep my promise to help break her of the habit that day.”