Mr. Dooley—in the Chinese number of Harper's Weekly— has given
a description of Chinese lying which is unsurpassed even in that great humourist's repertory of magnificent audacities. In answer to Mr. Hennessy's remark that he did not believe one word of what was in the papers about China, Mr. Dooley explains to him that in reality a grand contest is going on between the Western and Eastern civilisations in the matter of lying. Bat the Western is hopelessly handicapped. "How in th' wurruld can we compete with a counthry where ivry lab'rer's cot- tage projooces lies so delicate that th' workmen iv th' West can't undherstand thim ? We make our lies be machinery ; they tur-rn out theirs be hand. They imitate th' best iv our canned lies to deceive people that likes that kind, but f'r artists they have lies that appeals to a more refined taste. Sure, I'd like to live among thim an' find out th' kind iv bouncers they tell each other. They must be gr-rand. I on'y know their export lies now—th' surplus lies they can't use at home. An' th' kind they sind out ar-re betther than our best. Our lies is no more thin a conthradiction iv th' thruth; their lies appeals to th' since iv honesty iv anny civilized man." Mr. Hennessy, as usual, refuses to be beaten, and declares "They can't hurt us with their lies; we have th' guns, an' we'll bate thim yet." But Mr. Dooley, as usual, has the last word, and it is full of shrewd philosophy. "Yes, an' 'twill be like a man who's had his house desthroyed be a cyclone gettin' up an' kickin' at th' air."
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