The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1885-10-22
"THE GOOD OLD TIMES"
Good Undoubtedly, But Behind the Times
of the Present in Some Respects.

Good Undoubtedly, But Behind the Times
of the Present in Some Respects.
Yes, ''the good old times" undoubted-
had much to boast of, but in one regard
they were wofully behind the present
times, be the latter good, bad or indif-
erent. We refer to mendacity. Not
that there is any less lying now than
there was in ages gone, but rather that
the practice is looked upon with
larger spirit of charitableness than
formerly, and that mankind is more
willing to condone his brothers excur-
sions from veracity than he was in those
good old times aforesaid.
We read in sacred writ of the quick
and terrible visitation upon Ananias
and Sapphira, not because they lied, but
simply because they kept back part of
the truth. If the precedent established
in their case were strictly followed to-
day, what an epidemic of sudden deaths
the newspapers would be called upon to
record! The Asiatic cholera and his
twin destroyer, Yellow Jack, together
with all their cousins and their sisters,
and their aunts, would be forced to shut
up shop and go out of business, mas
much as there wouldn't be enough of
humanity left for them to work upon
and pay running expenses, while con-
sumption, fever and diseases of the
kidney, heart, brain ct al, would long
ago have gone into hopeless bank
ruptcy. Possibly even the medical fra
ternity might ere this have become dis
couraged and become reputable mem
bers of society.
Why, look about you, and you viii
not fail to discover an Ananias or
Sapphira in every other man or woman
whom you meet in your daily walk.
Here is the real-estate dealer, for ex-
ample. He takes you to look at the
piece of property he wishes to sell. He
points out the beautiful prospect, but
says nothing of the raw winds which
roar about the place from November to
June; he speaks of the fine elevation,
but is silent in regard to the ice-covered.
slippery hill you must climb, if you can,
next winter; he explores with you the
commodious cellarage and comments
upon its roominess in eloquent terms,
but he strangely forgets to mention
that it is afioat two-thirds of the year;
he shows you the fine we'll of water and
asks you, with assurance born of per-
sonal knowledge, if you ever tasted
better, but it does not occur to him to
remind you that in summer. when the
well isn't as dry as a Sunday-school
discourse, the water tastes almost
as bad as it smells and smells
almost as bad as it tastes; he
takes you into the ehamber-not syl-
liable about the leaky roof he points
out the external beauties of the house
the fact that there is nothing but
faith between the clapboards without
and the plastering within entirely es-
capes him i he dilates upon the splen-
d neighbors, but fails to refer to the
neighburs' hens. And SO on, to the end
of the chapter. What he tells you is
true. He does not lie. He only keeps
back part of the truth. Should he die
suddenly, nobody would be so unchari-
table as to intimate that his taking-off
was punishment for constructive men
dacity, especially if he be rich. 1t
would be apoplexy or heart disease, or
some other respectable malady. and the
stain which still hangs about the
memory of Ananias and Sapphira would
never cause his heirs, administrators
and assigns to hang their heads and
blush.
The landlord of the summer hotel ad.
vertises his finely appointed house, its
extensive views and its well-appointed
table; but advertising costs money, and
he can not afford to pay for space in
which to tell of the malaria which rises
from the swamps down there in the
hollow, or of the mosquitoes which
throng the air and bleed the guests
with persistency almost equal to his
own, or of the fact that his fresh
vegetables are fresh only in the sense
that they are fresh from the can in
which they have been imprisoned a
twelvemonth. or of the diphtheretic con-
dition of the outbuildings, or of any one
of the many ''offs'' and ''outs' with
which he is only too familiar. He keeps
back part of the truth. He does moth
ing more. nothing worse. And he reads
the story of the Biblical fibbers with
complacency, if not with contempt.
The doctor feels of your pulse and
gives you dose. He does not tell you
you are better off without medicine.
Perhaps he goes so far as to not tell
you candidly that he doesn't know
what's the matter with you. At all
events, he keeps back part of the truth.
The fate of his Scriptural prototypes
has no terrors for him.
But why waste words over a matter
that is apparent to all? In every pro-
fession, art, craft, trade and occupation
you will find the same thing. Every
body, everywhere. no matter what he
be doing, or whether he be doing moth
ing at all, is engaged, more or less con-
stantly, in keeping back part of the
truth. And whoever hears Of 'death
by lying?'' You will search the NOR
tuary reports in vain for it among the
causes of deaths.
To be sure. there is one exception,
namely, the newspaper writer; but he
is the exception which proves the rule.
Boston Transcript.
The commencement exercises at
the various colleges of the country show
that the disposition on the part of
a1I1noni tn rally aho1lt their raSnaefive