"Truth," said the little fellow again but with the same somewhat indistinct utterance which has always been so puzzling to the world.
"I don't understand you," said the Captain of the Angels, "but if it's between you and Sloth I'll take a chance with you. Stop at the locker room and get your harp and halo."
Now to-day even Lucifer will admit, if you get him in a corner, that Truth is the mightiest warrior of them all. The only trouble is his truancy. Sometimes he can't be found for centuries. Then he will bob up unexpectedly, break a few heads, and skip away. Nothing can stand against him. Lucifer's best ally, Beauty, is no match for him. Truth holds every decision. But the trouble is that he still keeps his cap down over his eyes, and he still mumbles his words, and nobody knows him until he is at least fifty years away and moving fast. At that distance he seems to grow bigger, and he invariably reaches into his back pocket and puts on his halo so that people can recognize him. Still, when he comes along the next time and is face to face with any man of this world, the mortal is pretty sure to say, "Your face is familiar but I can't seem to place you."
There is no denying that he isn't a good mixer. But for that he would be an excellent censor.
| Etext transcriber's note: |
| The following changes have been made from the original text: |
| Frudian=>Freudian |
| too old and two busy=>too old and too busy |
| Minnegerode=>Minnigerode [Meade Minnigerode (1887-1967)] |