O DEAR! SHALL WE EVER BE DONE LYING?
An honest old gentleman, in telling us his troubles, gave great prominence to the necessity he was frequently under of disappointing his customers, whose work could not be finished as soon as he had promised. After explaining the difficulty, he looked up with great earnestness, and exclaimed, “O dear! shall we ever be done with this lying?”
We have often wondered ourselves whether such a consummation would ever take place. “Your boots shall be done on Saturday night without fail.” Nevertheless, you have to go to church with gaping shoes for want of them. “Your coat shall be sent home by nine o’clock on Saturday night;” and you get it, in fact, the Wednesday after. “Will you lend me your wheel-barrow? I will return it to-night.” You wait for it till next week, and then send for it. My carpenter solemnly agreed to finish my house by November; but it was July before I could get the key. My wood was to be split on Saturday afternoon—enough for the Sabbath; so it was—but I had to do it. My money was to be paid me the next week; and then, next week; and then, NEXT week—and then, as soon as he could get it; he did get it and spent it; and then it should be paid when he got it again—he got it again, and paid another debt because the man treated him more savagely than I would. The strength laid out in running for this money, if it had been economically applied to labor, would, nearly, have earned the whole debt. The fellow never paid me at last; but Death came along, and he paid him promptly. “O dear! shall we ever get done with this lying?” It is one of the few domestic manufactures which need no protection, and flourishes without benefit either to the producer or consumer.