SIMPLICITAS, THE BARBER

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2894, 5 October 1916, Page 6

SIMPLICITAS, THE BARBER

A PHILOSOPHIC HAIR-CUT Nino barber's assistants out of ten supply their vocal obbligati from the denouements at the last race meeting, or the prospects of the next. Tho tenth is.apt to break out in an unexpected place. The other day—this also is a true story—l had my hair cut by a man who discoursed upon tho simple life. His philosophy was somewhat prude, rather impracticable, but, as an indication of primitive longings, quite interesting. 1 felt that I had had a glimpse of his soul. His opening remark, as he'tucked tho towel under my chin, was commonplace, but, as it happened, appropriate. Ho said that it was a "boiscar" day. I agreed. will you have it. sir?" 'Machine back and sides, and just enough in front to keep me out of the Police Court," said I, as I settled myself for tho ordeal. Ho gently pushed my head forward till my oyes wero focussed upon my top wai6t-button, and began. "Thisisn't my. idea of livin' at all," he said. "M-mm," said I. 1 "It 'ud be all right if wo cnuld go back a bit, live anyhow, and have to catch what wo wanted to eat." "Caviare, for example," I suggested. "What's that?" he asked. I told him. " "No, I don't mean that'oxactly," be said. "If wo could live in huts, catch fish for breakfast, trap a Tabbit. or something, for dinner, and things like that." \ , . ■ "I see." said I. ' "You want the simnlo life?" "Well," be said, "if I could live out in the fresh :n'r all the timo, and hunt for n. livin', it 'ud do nie." "But you wouldn't be satisfied to leave it at that," I said. "Ob. yes, I would," he said. ■ "Well," said I, "your wife wouldn't." "I haven't got one," ho said. "But you might have, yon know." "Well." said he, "she'd have to bo like me." I smiled. "You might find that sort rather scarce." "Oh, well, I'd go without," he said, philosophically. "And that wouldn't be the only objection." I resumed. ' , "No?" "You'd have'to buy a section, to begin with—something with trees on it, and birds and rabbits; and you'd havo to bo handy to tho fish, and all that sort of thing." . ' "But if everybody like, that there wouldn't be any sections. ' Just one great big "'island, with everybody goin' about all over tho shop, fishing an' hunting, an' bavin' the, timo of their lhes. Of course, thero'd havo to be enough fish and things to'go round, or else it wouldn't pan'out." "Some might catch nioro than the others," I suggested. "I- supposo-they'd start .tradin' then to those that wero short?" "Quito so. You would have the capitalist amongst you before you knew where you were. You might bo one yourself." ] "That's 60," lie admitted. "Then your wife would want a swank hut, and before you knew where you were you would be putting in porcelain baths, electric light, and buying a motor-car.-'' He came round to the front and pushed my head back. "Reminds me of something I read in a book ,-tho othor day—by the chap that "wrote about the war in tho air." "H. G. Wells?" "Yes—that's him. There's a follow in the book, Tom Smallways, he calls him. Bit of a rummy, he-is.-.-Well, this chap, he says, 'This here Progress, it keeps on,' he says. And then ho goes on: 'You'd hardly think it could keep on,' he says." "But it does," said I. \ . ' ' "Marvellous thing, isn't it?" "It goes on," I 6aid, "because we're never satisfied with what we've got. If I stuck you on a beautiful island? with fish and game galore, you wouldn't be satisfied." " - ' "I don't know so much about that," he said. '"T anyrate, I'd be willing to risk it." • "I'd like to lead the simple life myself," I said, "but I'd want Jive thousand a year to do it with." "How d'ye make that out?" "Well," said I, "to begin with, l I couldn't go hunting and fishing all over the country on land that didn't belong to me." "We've started wrong," said ; the barber's assistant.-' "If we'd started rfeht we'd finish wrong," I said. /Then I'd have to buy a block of 'hand, plant things, put stock on, so's I could kill ..a beast when. I felt hungry, and so on. It takes money to live the simple life these days." "Well," said he, "if I-had fivo thousand a year, I .wouldn't exactly loaf, mind you, but I'd just work when I felt inclined. ' I'd get up out of bed when I liked, go down town and look around. Then I might see a. man mending his motor-car. I'd stop, give him a hand with the job, and when I got tired of that I'd knock off, and try something else. I'd like to havo the feelin'' that I could start when I liked, and knock off when I liked." "But," said I, "that feeling wouldn't work in your simple lifo idea.'' "Wliv wouldn't it?" "Well," said I, "if .vou wanted a fish for breakfast, you'd.have to stick at tho job of catching it till you landed ono. Otherwiso you'd go hungry." "I see." "Man never is, but* always to be blest," I remarked, sontcntiously. "Seems like it A little bay rum or a dry brush?" And the barber's assistant at this staee descended to earth and to things eartldy.-"Wi."