ed and blatant; bold, daring and
sweeping; it claims everything, asserts everything, denies anything.

During the campaign this lie is a factor. Men buy papers to read it,
and go miles to hear it. The campaign lie is the greatest worker in
the canvass for votes. He pats the workman on the back and promises to
fill his pail with sirloin steak and fresh salmon, when, if the other
man is elected, he will have to carry liver and codfish. He grasps the
merchant strongly by the hand and promises him larger sales and better
profits in case his party gets into power; he enters the magnate's
office and promises him increased dividends and no strikes; he promises
everything till after election, when he has no more promises to make.

There is the polite lie, too. A very gentle affair this. A very
proper lie, clothed with the attire of an elegant etiquette and of
graceful form. It is never harsh and never rude, but smooth as oil, as
gentle as a zephyr. The number of polite lies that are told every day
are legion. It would be useless to attempt to classify them, worse
than useless to try to enumerate them. They are of all sizes, colors,
descriptions and shapes. They have much in common, but differ widely
in particular. No locality is destitute of this venerable and classic
falsehood. The ancients used it, the moderns still cling to it; the
poor find it handy, the rich could not keep house without it; it
abounds in every clime and thrives in every latitude. The polite
hostess says to the departing guest: "We have been delighted by your
visit; do us the favor to come again," when she sincerely hopes that
most any catastrophe may overtake her rather than another visit from
this same personage. There are the every-day expressions, 'Not at
home,' which the housemaid is instructed to give the caller; and a
score of other social lies which in truth deceive nobody, nine times
out of ten. Society would lose little and gain much if the polite lie
could be banished, and every man say what he thought and speak as he
felt.

Another lie I will notice is the business lie. The business lie is a
very matter of fact lie. It sounds well. There are some genuine
bankrupt sales, of course; there are a few bona fide smoke, fire and
water mark-downs undoubtedly, but there are more advertised in a week
than there are failures and fires in a year. Good, staple merchandise
will usually bring its value, and he who advertises an unheard of