Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 October 1885 — Remedy Against Barbers. [ARTICLE]

Remedy Against Barbers.

Barbers will talk. There is no help for that. Their jaws have to keep time with the movement of the scissors. It is not the mere talking that is annoying, but it is what they say, and their manner of saying it, that nearly drives a strong man crazy. If, for instance, a barber were only to make such remarks as: “What a noble brow you have!” or “Your dome of thought reminds one of Daniel Webster;” or if they were to abuse some man you did not like, the sitter would listen very complacently, and some bald-headed people we know of would want to have the ends of their locks trimmed four or five times a week, just to hear what the confounded fool of a barber had to say. The trouble with barbers is that they do not say what you want to listen to. The barbers will persist in discovering that your hair is falling out, and there is nothing in Heaven above, or on earth below that will arrest the fugitive hair, except a bottle of each particular barber’s magic lotion. Another thing that worries the barber more than it troubles its legitimate owner is dandruff. As nine persons in ten have more or less dandruff in their heads, the barber has a fine field to work in, as it were. Dandruff is another dread malady that is hurrying the unfortunate man into his grave, unless he is willing to shell out a reluctant half-dollar for a bottle of the same vile stuff that the aforesaid barber is willing to part with for the consideration above mentioned. As it is about the season of the year when most of the people have their hair mowed off, and as they all have to go through the ordeal we have described, we propose to give our readers a few sngg stions as to how to stand off the fiend. Of course, the eloquence of the barber cannot be closed off entirely, as the gas is shut off s but the colored barber can be temporarily discouraged. He will run his fingers through his hair and say:— —'"i:.

“Boss, I kin gib yer a remedy for fifty cents, what will knock dat ar ssurff in yer head cold.” Then you say to the barber:— “Look here, you have got one foot in the grave. Your liver is out of order. I can tell it by your complexion. Your complexion is too yellow. You had better get a bottle of Carter’s Liver Pills, or Reed’s Gilt Edge Tonic.” He will be surprised, if not shocked. We tried that game on a barber, and his reproachful look will never be forgotten as long as memory holds her seat. Usually one application is sufficient, but he occasionally rallies towards the close of the matinee, his system jteacts, and he says, timidly:— “Yer hasn’t answered my question yet, boss, about de bottle of magic lotion for de seurff.” All you have to do is to ask him if he has read Dr. Philkins’ Treatise on Dandruff. He will reply that he has not. Then you say:— “Dr. Philkins is of the opinion that dandruff is produced by activity of the brain. People who have torpid Brains, or n o brains at all, are never troubled with dandruff. What you need is some dandruff. If you colored folks had more dandruff in your heads, there would be more of you in Congress. If you don’t quit curing white people’s heads of dandruff, their brains will dwindle away, and they will set up barber shops, and then you will have more competition than you want” This last dose will cure the barber of dandruff, falling out of the hair, and whatever else troubles him. After the above remedy has been applied, you can get your hair cut ten times a day, and he will never again venture to prescribe for “de seurff in yer head.” Try it.— Texas Siftings.