San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1923-01-14


". banging in the doorwoy. ITS
somebody on the telephone. Are you
lying down, are you taking a bath,
or are you downtown shopping?"
His neither, suddenly stricken, looked
at him aghast. He was but seven years
old; he was considered in the family
singularly truthful, because a singularly
unimaginative, child.
Yet here he was, swinging cheerfully
on the knob, his small hands clasping
the door he was conscious of no wrong
doing. And he had just offered his own
mother the choice CT three lies!
The mother was working hard, an in
terruption was tragedy just then. She
had tried several expedients before this /;
she had blocked her telephone, she had
employed a tactful secretary to excuse
her, she had asked her intim1tes not to
disturb her during morning hours.
Discourtesy-Or Lies.
No use. She was driven to discour-
tesy or to lies. When the maid or Sec
rotary came to say regretfully, "1ts
Mrs. Bull, and she says she is sure you
will speak to her," what could she say?
Mrs. Bull is a neighbor, an old friend.
1t takes great courage t. bear amiably
her reproaches when next they meet,
ssSIrs. Bulls annoyed, II tried to get you,
because the printer was waiting for our
club program. 1t meant had to stay
in town, l couldn't go to Clara's-no
matter. Your secretary took my name,
too"
Or perhaps Mrs. Bull jumps into her
car and comes over in person.
Il know you're the busiest person in
the world." she says sunnily, intrud-
ing. She chats for twenty minutes.
and departs saying:
Then you'll call Jane. anc try to get
to that meeting tomorrow? I'm not a
bit sorry / came in. You work too
hard !"
MARY" says the desperate writer,
musician, actress, artist, the portrait
photographer, when Mrs. Bull is gone.
Tomorrow morning / will be busy. l
don't care who it is, you'll have simply
to say I'm not here"
Seven. gravely listening. takes notes.
1t is lie about the candy, and about
hitting Bruce. But il isn't lie when n
big lady says it.
More Lies at Lunch.
There are more lies at lunch.
III write her some excuse" says
Mother, running through NAL, I'll say
you're out OF town dear. And do send
Lillian the flowers, explain that Papa
was i'll, or say something!
81 told Sally I couldn't go on her
committee, that / wasn't well enough
fits partly true. / told the man we'd be
back to look at the house this after
noon-but | knew l couldn't possibly
make it, l Just didn't want TO seem
unappreciativc.
You'll want to 60 to the Fosters
birthday party-they don't want us, and
we hate it, but well have TO go. I'll
;ive her one of those candlesticks we
smugsled through the customs last year.
never will get over my sensations when
l thought he was going TO open Bellies
trunk He said, What's in there? AMI
Belle simply said, old summer
clothes.'"
Il told Foster we'd be delighted, and
we were looking forward to it," says
lsSSSd. as n matter Of course. Major
Smith has gotten some more of that
whiskey-I might give Foster bottle,
81 wish you could run in and see
Bates paintings-they'rn rotten, but
he'll ask me about them.
Il was talking to Judge Brown this
morning-the old thief about that oe:
cision. I felt like knocking the old
cut-throat down, but of course | Lad
to say that they had their point OF
view, etc. :"
Lies, and Lies. and Lies.
Lies. and lies, and lies. Yet how
virtuous Mother feels when she has
confused and excited Seven up on her
Garnet and is addressing him thus:
"No, it isn't taking Dads razor
that was naughty. But when my own
boy tells his mother that he didn't
touch the razor, then that just breaks
my heart! Why, my darling. don't you
know that good and honorable men and
women would die before they would tell
a lie? You see Grandma's lovely pic
ture in the dining room"
And so forth and so forth. One won
ders what Seven, sniffliI 6 and sulping
really thinks?
For what is the cure? Can we-dare
we tell the truth? Who does?
Why. most of us don't even know
the truth when We meet it
"Ah. well. business lics-everybody
expects 'em." say the men.
Social lies? You couldn't get very
far without them" say the women.
"I didn't do it! :" sobs the baby, and
is PROMPTLY punished.
We live in sea OF perfumed and
tactful lies. We wallow in superlatives
You and I would probably lose con-