Among other common lies, we have the _silent_ lie--the deception which
one conveys by simply keeping still and concealing the truth. Many
obstinate truth-mongers indulge in this dissipation, imagining that if
they _speak_ no lie, they lie not at all. In that far country where I
once lived, there was a lovely spirit, a lady whose impulses were always
high and pure, and whose character answered to them. One day I was there
at dinner, and remarked, in a general way, that we are all liars. She
was amazed, and said, "Not _all_?" It was before "Pinafore's" time so I
did not make the response which would naturally follow in our day, but
frankly said, "Yes, _all_--we are all liars. There are no exceptions."
She looked almost offended, "Why, do you include _me_?" "Certainly," I
said. "I think you even rank as an expert." She said "Sh-'sh! the
children!" So the subject was changed in deference to the children's
presence, and we went on talking about other things. But as soon as the
young people were out of the way, the lady came warmly back to the
matter and said, "I have made a rule of my life to never tell a lie; and
I have never departed from it in a single instance." I said, "I don't
mean the least harm or disrespect, but really you have been lying like
smoke ever since I've been sitting here. It has caused me a good deal of
pain, because I'm not used to it." She required of me an instance--just
a single instance. So I said--

"Well, here is the unfilled duplicate of the blank, which the Oakland
hospital people sent to you by the hand of the sick-nurse when she came
here to nurse your little nephew through his dangerous illness. This
blank asks all manners of questions as to the conduct of that
sick-nurse: 'Did she ever sleep on her watch? Did she ever forget to
give the medicine?' and so forth and so on. You are warned to be very
careful and explicit in your answers, for the welfare of the service
requires that the nurses be promptly fined or otherwise punished for