The Deceitful Cuss.—An open enemy, a hearty hater, a bold dead-beater, an imperious friend, a phoolish chum, a reckless companyun, anything in shape ov human, or ov brute, and even aul things devlish, are mince pies with raizins in them, compared tew a slipping, sneaking Deceit, who, under the guize and garments ov being in love with you, chaws tobbaker out ov yure box, and lies tew yu evry time he tells yu the truth.
Theze human polecats are thick in this world, their eyes are like the kats, made tew see in the dark, they hav the face ov a sheep, and the heart ov a snaik, they kan kry at an impromptu christening, they are az full ov cunning az a she opposum, and would rather fail in an enterprise than to do it honestly.
These critters, az awkward as it may seem, are full ov vanity and ambishun, and their vanity and ambishun iz tew play lion under a sheep’s skin.
It iz a strange ambishun that a man will cultivate wisdum only for the sake ov being cunning, that he will perfect himself in the art and imagery of love and friendship for the sake ov counterfitting them, that he will studdy pitty for gain, that he will work hard for the devil at 2 shillings a day, and finally, that he will practiss the rudiments ov awl the virtews ov soshul life, simply for the sake ov doing with a good grace what iz shameful and wicked to do at all.
I hav known men ov this brand, who where not wholly malishus, who would aktually dew yu a good turn to-morrow if they could cheat yu to-day, who deceive not entirely for gain, but tew keep their tools whet, who hav sum excellent traits, which sumtimes drop out seemingly by mistake.
But a natral crook toward deception iz like the bight ov a mad dogg, it may sleep for a long time in the veins ov its viktim, very well behaved pizen, watching for a good time, but sooner or later, when least expekted, the virus begins tew play dorg by asserting its dredful prerogative.
It don’t cure theze vermin tew ketch them, if they waz rats, which we could drown in the trap, it would be bully, but letting them go only makes them the more cunning.
Deception iz one ov the sciences, it haz its deakons, elders and hod carriers, the world swarms with them, all ov the pimps among them, such az the wodden nutmeg makers, and the small beer-cheats, we kan punish enuff by dispising, but what reward, short ov the gibbet, or at least the whipping post, iz equal tew the villainous cuss who creeps on hiz body into yure confidense, a subdued and shivering snake, and warms up into a viper.
Ingratitude iz one ov them diabolikal crimes that awl men hate, but leave the punishment to heaven.
The Domestik Man iz ov a maskuline and feminine tendency—half and half—and sumtimes more so.