bitterly.
I object to having my head look like a real-estate development with an
opening for a new street going up each side and an ornamental design in
fancy landscape gardening across the top. If I permit this I won't be
able to keep on saying that I was twenty-seven on my last birthday, with
some hope of getting away with it. So I insist that he put my front
hair right back where he found it. He does so, under protest and
begrudgingly, it is true, but he does it. And then, watching his
opportunity, he runs in on me and overpowers me and roaches it up some
more.

If I weaken and submit he is happy as the day is long. If he gets it
roached up on both sides that will make me look like a horizontal-bar
performer, which is his idea of manly beauty. Or if he gets it roached
up on one side only there is still some consolation in it for him I'm
liable to be mistaken anywhere for a trained-animal performer. But once
in a very great while he doesn't get it roached up on either side, but
has to stand there and suffer as he sees me walk forth into the world
with my hair combed to suit me and not him. I can tell by his look that
he is grieved and downcast, and that he will probably go home and be
cross to the children. He has but one solace--he hopes to have better
luck with me next time. And probably he will.

The last age of hair is a wig. But wigs are not so very satisfactory
either. I've seen all the known varieties of wigs, and I never saw one
yet that looked as though it were even on speaking terms with the head
that was under it. A wig always looks as though it were a total stranger
to the head and had just lit there a minute to rest, preparatory to
flying along to the next head. Nevertheless, I think on the whole I'll
be happier when my time comes to wear one, because then no barber can
roach me up.

HANDS AND FEET

Nearly every boy has a period in his life when he is filled with
an envious admiration for the East India god with the extra set of
arms--Vishnu, I think this party's name is. To a small boy it seems a
grand thing to have a really adequate assortment of hands. He considers
the advantage of such an arrangement in school--two hands in plain view
above the desk holding McGuffy's Fourth Reader at the proper angle for
study and the other two out of sight, down underneath the desk engaged
in manufacturing paper wads or playing crack-a-loo or some other really
worth while employment.

Or for robbing bi