e how's everything up at East Aurora. In
short, I like it long."

"Yes, sir," said the barber, "quite so, sir; but it's very long,
particularly here in the back--it covers your coat collar."

"Indeed?" said Frisbee. "You say it covers my coat collar?"

"Yes, sir," said the barber. "You can't see the coat collar at all."

"Have you got a good sharp pair of shears there?" said Frisbee.

"Oh, yes, sir," said the barber.

"All right then," said Frisbee; "cut the collar off."

But not all of us, as I said before, have this ready gift of parry and
thrust that distinguishes my friend Frisbee. Mostly we weakly surrender.
Or if we refuse to surrender, demanding just a shave by itself and
nothing else, what then follows? In my own case, speaking personally, I
know exactly what follows. I do not like to have any powder dabbed on my
face when I am through shaving. I believe in letting the bloom of youth
show through your skin, providing you have any bloom of youth to do
so. I always take pains to state my views in this regard at least twice
during the operation of being shaved--once at the start when the barber
has me all lathered up, with soapsuds dripping from the flanges of my
shell-like ears and running down my neck, and once again toward the
close of the operation, when he has laid aside his razor and is sousing
my defenseless features in a liquid that smells and tastes a good deal
like those scented pink blotters they used to give away at drug-stores
to advertise somebody's cologne.

Does the barber respect my wishes in this regard? Certainly not. He
insists on powdering me, either before my eyes or surreptitiously and in
a clandestine manner. If he didn't powder me up he would lose his sense
of self-respect, and probably the union would take his card away
from him. I think there is something in the constitution and by-laws
requiring that I be powdered up. I have fought the good fight for
years, but I'm always powdered. Sometimes the crafty foe dissembles. He
pretends that he is not going to powder me up. But all of a sudden when
my back is turned, as it were, he grabs up his powder swab and makes a
quick swoop upon me and the hellish deed is done. I should be pleased to
hear from other victims of this practice suggesting any practical relief
short of homicide. I do not wish to kill a barber--there are several
other orders in ahead, referring to the persons I intend to kill off
first--but I may be driven to it.

Aft