“Promises are cheap and slippery,” sez I. I spoze it wuz that tree that put me in mind of that simely. “She shan’t be led away by ’em agin, by my consent.”
“If I don’t drink for a year will you help me to have my wife back again?”
His voice trembled.
“That is beginnin’ to talk like a human creeter,” sez I, and I looked down from the ellum sort o’ benignantly. And I sez in a more warmer axent, but not too warm—jest about milk warm—
“You stop drinkin’ for a year. You git another home for her as good as you took her to at first, and I’ll advise her to talk with you about goin’ back, and not one minute before!” sez I.
“Can I see her one minute?” sez he.
Annie wuz to home. Josiah wuz away. All devolved on me, and I riz up to the occasion.
“No!” sez I, “you can’t; you can’t see her to-day for a minute, or a secont!”
(I knew putty wuz hard in comparison to her heart, and I wouldn’t run the resk.)
“You stop drinkin’ for six months,” sez I, “and you may see her for one-half hour in my presence, and not a minute longer,” sez I, as resolute as iron. “I’ll take care of her, and when you’ve earnt the right to have her agin with you, I’ll give her up to you and not a minute before,” sez I—“not a minute!”