IN THE BARBER'S CHAIR

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9092, 23 November 1907, Page 4

IN THE BARBER'S CHAIR

No. XI. IMPROVING ON NATURE

(Written for tho " Star.")

I walked into the Barber's in a new suit, looking, I fear, as- 1 felt. I was shamefully conscious of that suit, partly owing to the fewness of such events in my quiet round, and partly owing to the suit itself. It was not one of those nice, shiny serges that usually covers my body, serving alike to protect me from cold and the world at large from astonishment, but it was, I' am afraid, a somewhat ill-advised check in differentiated greys, picked out of the pattern-book in some i_a_te, and destined never to receive its moneys worth of wear. The Barber choked clown a slightly pained look, and assumed an air of polite appreciation. He congratulated me in the proper form for such occasions.

" I like that suit, sir, if you don't mind me sayin' so. ' Time was when we .used to take a good pinch of each other when that happened to us, but it wouldn't be beoomin' in me to you as a customer of the establishment. -And Lord, these prosperous days I'd get my fingers tired pinchin' all the fellows that comes in here with new suits on. Tailorin' must be a grand trade, with all th© demand there is for clothes. Course, I don't know if they all get their money or not ; it's a popular fancy that they don't. I mind when the old man that used to build, my clothes used to think no end of me and allow me discount liberal because I paid Him cash. He said I was tho only one he had that did, l and he couldn't have got cash very often, seem' a new suit was a bit of a treat them days. Course, we've got out of the times when folks used to buy solid cloth things that'd wear till your stomach got out of hand, and then do for the family for a long time. My old man, he had one of them that his father had had left to him. But he couldn't never wear it, cause it was too stumpy for him, and out of fashion a long way. These is the days of advance, and a man mustn't wear the same s,uit any longer than he can help, and the tailors is reapin' th 6 benefit. And they're turnui' out young .-follows as gorgeous las tho young fellows dare to be, though that ain't much. Personally I'd like to see more colour. Nobody objects to men wearin' the old-, fashioned clothes made of cretonne on the stage, and they could surely stand a bit in the street. They do go in for fancy wesscoats a bit, and ties, and that's the spike end of the nail. A bit of colour goes a long way to set a man off. See how the women recognise that. A plain woman can easily make herself look nice with some fancy clothes, and the prettiest girl in the world can look a guy if she don't dress nice." At this stage the Barber demanded certain -irections as to how he should proceed with his operations «' on my hair, volunteering the information that the tonic, he himself had supplied did not seem to have done much good and adding that as a matter of fact nothmg was much good for. foiling hair. *

Somethmg'll have to be done to overcome the great demand for wool soon. I don't think there'll be enough sheep about to supply all the wool that's wanted. Sheep-farms are all very well, but they're big places with mighty few sheep on a bit as big as a back-yard. Japanese want an awful lot by all accounts now, though what tliey used to dress in before passes me. I s'pose they used silk, like what they make dustcoats of. I think they ought to try and do something to get another animal to give wool. There doesn't seem to be anything but the sheep now, only the Angora goat, and he isn't much, and, what'® more, he isn't natural. He's a product of human ingenuity. One day, they tell me, a man saw a goat and. a sheep grazin' together, and a happy idea struck him. He says '.Now, this here sheep's got horns, and that there goat's got horns. This here sheep's got. wool, and that there goat hasn't. Why shouldn't they mix up?' And so he got to work and mixed them up, and got the Angora goat. Nice woolly beast, with sheep's wool and all the natural smell of the goat. Well, they can go a bit further. Yon know that follow Burbank, what monkeyed about with flowers and cherries and made the Lord knows what out of them. He found out you could cross anything that belonged to the same family, like the cabbage and the cauliflower, or the sheep and the goat, or anything like that. Well, I don't see why somebody can't Burbank a sheep on. to a cow, and rais 0 some cattle with fleeces. That'd keep up the supply of wool, if it was done judicious and too many wasn't killed. Course there'd be difficulties. It'd be an awful job shearin' them, 'cause they wouldn't lie still. You'd havo to take them standing up, and get at the wild ones with shears on long handles, but it'd be got over all right. Then it'd be another job to get a good nam© for them, but they could have a competition like they did for the New Zealand flag, and give a prize for the beat name, and use another one after all. That's how they generally do them things. And while I'm makin' these here brilliant suggestions I min.iias well go all the way, and suggest that they -oould breed the beasts, whatever they called them, so that they'd drop their wool at the right time every year and save an awful lot of trouble, ready dyed different colours and sorted out." I felt that the Barber's imagination was getting too much of a good thing. As I went out I co far forgot myself as to make some remark about the weather, which is used by us only Avhen there is a dearth of topics. He looked pained, and I went home in my new suit. All the way I had my doubts about the origin of the Angora goat, and when I arrived I looked it up in a book. I found that the Barber's imagination was* even worse than I liad thought.