I am often this way. It will
pass in a moment. It comes from smoking too much."
My injured lord was up, wild-eyed with terror, and trying to hobble
toward the door. I could hardly breathe, I was so wrought up. My aunt
wrung her hands, and said:
"Oh, I knew how it would be; I knew it would come to this at last!
Oh, I implore you to crush out that fatal habit while it may yet be time!
You must not, you shall not be deaf to my supplications longer!"
My struggling Conscience showed sudden signs of weariness! "Oh, promise
me you will throw off this hateful slavery of tobacco!" My Conscience
began to reel drowsily, and grope with his hands--enchanting spectacle!
"I beg you, I beseech you, I implore you! Your reason is deserting you!
There is madness in your eye! It flames with frenzy! Oh, hear me, hear
me, and be saved! See, I plead with you on my very knees!" As she sank
before me my Conscience reeled again, and then drooped languidly to the
floor, blinking toward me a last supplication for mercy, with heavy eyes.
"Oh, promise, or you are lost! Promise, and be redeemed! Promise!
Promise and live!" With a long-drawn sigh my conquered Conscience closed
his eyes and fell fast asleep!
With an exultant shout I sprang past my aunt, and in an instant I had my
lifelong foe by the throat.
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