No Cure For Liars

A Michigander who took iu tbe White Sulphur Springs of Virginia on a recent trip, one day approaciied an aged negro who was loitering on the street, and confidentially informed him that he had come to the springs to be cured of the habit of lying, and he aaked the oíd man's opinión of the chances f or a cure. "How long has you bin in de habit of lyin', sah?' was the honest query. "About fifty years." "Lyin' all de time?" "Kight along, day after day.'' "Big lies?" "Yes- the worst oíd whoppers you ever heard. Give me yoar honest opinión, now, as to whether a course of baths will help me." "Well, sah," said the öld negro, as he scratched his head, "pears to me dat if you kin git de water hot 'nulï it might help you some, but de trubble is dat in sweatin' out de lies you may cook de body, an' my 'sperience wid white men am dat I kin git 'long better wid a well man who lies dan wid a parbiled man who teils de