Judge — June 13, 1914 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

HE OTHER day in Ho- nolulu I was shaved for the first time in my life by a Japanese barber. I stopped at Honolulu on my way, to the Orient, went into a Japanese barber shop, and called for a shave. The barber waved me to a chair, broke it in the middle, and left me hanging at the ends. Gingerly he dipped a brush in a cup of lather and began touching me up here and there deftly, as though re- storing old masters. When he finished, just a few of the more prominent eleva- tions had been flecked. Naturally I ex- pected him to reach for his razor and go to work; but instead of that, he picked up a pair of scissors and began trimming the edges of my hair, while the lather on my face crinkled and itched. When he was satisfied, he put his razor into the hardened lather and began haul- ing and shoving. His razor had seen Shaved by a Japanese Barber By HOME “KOY much service and should have been re- tired long ago, but he kept right on with it, as though the price mark still showed. The barber was a small fellow, but he was strong; otherwise he could not have been a barber. His right arm was won- derfully developed—I could see that he had been in the barber business for a long time. Leaning heavily on his razor, he went to work, climbing gradually hand over hand up the side of my face to my ear; then, taking my face in his hands, he turned it over on the other cheek and let himself down the other side. Putting away his razor, he touched a spring in the chair and tossed me into the middle of the floor. ENJOYING HIS VACATION I “‘Washie,"’ he explained, motion- ing for me to bend over with my head under a faucet. After he felt that I had enough water down my neck, he motioned me back to the _ chair again and gave a towel a swing or two over my face. While my face was still dripping with water, he began throwing on powder. I thought that the first layer would surely be enough, but that seemed only to whet his desire, and when he sat me up, there was only an occasional feature visible through the drifts. Suddenly he grabbed an atomizer and began spraying my hair. “What’s that for?” I gasped, waving away the disinfectant. “For perfume,”’ giving the bulb a vig- orous squeeze. “Stop!"’ I ordered, trying to shelter myself from the mange remedy. “Oh, so well all right!"’ he said, with a sweep of his hand, as if there were no accounting for tastes, and handed me a domino. On the back of the block I found scratches, and through a hole in the partition which divided the grocery from the tonsorial parlor, I saw his wife waiting to do cashier duty. Paying the fifteen cents which covered the trim, the powdering, the spraying and the scraping, I started out, while his wife stepped around the partition into the barber shop, either to speak to her husband or to get the razor to prepare the noonday meal. I don’t know which, but I have my surmise. This Week's Six Best Sellers “Bread."’ “Meat.” “*Potatoes.’” “Salt.” “Butter.”” “Sugar.”” oS Still at Large Though petty criminals are caught, On Justice still I call To make of Cupid a report, The greatest rogue of all! comicbooks.com