LIARS


There are three kinds of liars:



1. The man whom others can't believe. He is harmless. Let him alone.



2. The man who can't believe others. He has probably made a careful

study of human nature. If you don't put him in jail, he will find out

that you are a hypocrite.



3. The man who can't believe himself. He is a cautious individual.

Encourage him.





Two Irishmen were working on the roof of a building one day when one

made a misstep and fell to the ground. The other leaned over and called:



"Are yez dead or alive, Mike?"



"Oi'm alive," said Mike feebly.



"Sure you're such a liar Oi don't know whether to belave yez or not."



"Well, then, Oi must be dead," said Mike, "for yez would never dare to

call me a liar if Oi wor aloive."





FATHER (reprovingly)--"Do you know what happens to liars when they die?"



JOHNNY--"Yes, sir; they lie still."





A private, anxious to secure leave of absence, sought his captain with a

most convincing tale about a sick wife breaking her heart for his

absence. The officer, familiar with the soldier's ways, replied:



"I am afraid you are not telling the truth. I have just received a

letter from your wife urging me not to let you come home because you get

drunk, break the furniture, and mistreat her shamefully."



The private saluted and started to leave the room. He paused at the

door, asking: "Sor, may I speak to you, not as an officer, but as mon to

mon?"



"Yes; what is it?"



"Well, sor, what I'm after sayin' is this," approaching the captain and

lowering his voice. "You and I are two of the most iligant liars the

Lord ever made. I'm not married at all."





A conductor and a brakeman on a Montana railroad differ as to the proper

pronunciation of the name Eurelia. Passengers are often startled upon

arrival at his station to hear the conductor yell:



"You're a liar! You're a liar!"



And then from the brakeman at the other end of the car:



"You really are! You really are!"





MOTHER--"Oh, Bobby, I'm ashamed of you. I never told stories when I was

a little girl."



BOBBY--"When did you begin, then, Mamma?"--_Horace Zimmerman_.





The sages of the general store were discussing the veracity of old Si

Perkins when Uncle Bill Abbott ambled in.



"What do you think about it, Uncle Bill?" they asked him. "Would you

call Si Perkins a liar?"



"Well," answered Uncle Bill slowly, as he thoughtfully studied the

ceiling, "I don't know as I'd go so far as to call him a liar exactly,

but I do know this much: when feedin' time comes, in order to get any

response from his hogs, he has to get somebody else to call 'em for

him."





A lie is an abomination unto the Lord and an ever present help in time

of trouble.





An Idaho guide whose services were retained by some wealthy young

easterners desirous of hunting in the Northwest evidently took them to

be the greenest of tenderfoots, since he undertook to chaff them with a

recital something as follows:



"It was my first grizzly, so I was mighty proud to kill him in a

hand-to-hand struggle. We started to fight about sunrise. When he

finally gave up the ghost, the sun was going down."



At this point the guide paused to note the effect of his story. Not a

word was said by the easterners, so the guide added very slowly, "_for

the second time_."



"I gather, then," said one young gentleman, a dapper little Bostonian,

"that it required a period of two days to enable you to dispose of that

grizzly."



"Two days and a night," said the guide, with a grin. "That grizzly died

mighty hard."



"Choked to death?" asked the Bostonian.



"Yes, _sir_," said the guide.



"Pardon me," continued the Hubbite, "but what did you try to get him to

swallow?"





When by night the frogs are croaking,

Kindle but a torch's fire;

Ha! how soon they all are silent;

Thus Truth silences the liar.



--_Friedrich von Logan_.





_See also_ Epitaphs; Husbands; Politicians; Real estate agents; Regrets.



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