A CLOSE SHAVE.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2221, 30 April 1880, Page 2

A CLOSE SHAVE.

A PRISON BARBER WHO MEANT MURDER. You can readily understand why a newspaper man would be attracted to visit a State prison, but you may_ well wonder why he should seek permission for the prison barber to shave him when he knew that barber to be a murderer serving a life sentence, yet, in the composition of most men there is a yearning to tread upon the skirts of adventure — to stand, as it were, close to the edge of some abyss down which the fall would be certain destruction. All men will take chances, but some men will risk everything when this feeling is upon them. “So you want old Jack to shave you ?” repeated the Warden as a look of astonishment crossed his face. “ Yes.” “ Don’t you know that he is a murderer ?” Yes.’* “ And in for life ?” “ Yes.” “Oh! I’d sooner have a snake crawling over my face than his black fingers, which cut the throat of his wife and two children ! What is to prevent him from smashing your juglar vein?” “ Nothing!” “ Yet you will take the risk ?” “ I will. I want to be shaved by a murderer. I want the sensation of having him pass a keen razor slowly over my face and around my throat, and of knowing that I stand in the door of death!”

“Old Jack has been ugly-tempcrcd of late.” “ I don’t care.” “ There isn’nt a convict in the prison who doscn,t fear his razor.”

“So much the better. I will take all the chances.”

“ You may try it,” said the warder after a long silence, “ but ” “ But nothing. Is there a glass in front of the chair ?” “Yes.”

“ That’s all I want. Let me go into the barber’s shop alone and make my own arrangements. That’s it —open the door—so long —don’t worry.” Old Jack was one of the prison barbers. Every convict knew him as a triple-murderer. He had made awful threats he had no one to say a good word for him, but Jail dreaded and avoided him. He was a man about 50 years old, slightly gray, thick-set, and no one could find a pleasant line in his face. As to his heart he had slashed the throats of his family, and piled the corpses in a corner, and slept and ate in the next room until the horrible odor brought the police and discovery. “ Shave,” I said, as I entered his little den, threw olf hat and coat and sat down in his hard chair. He was seated on a stool behind me stropping a razor. He looked up in surprise, seemed puzzled to know who I was and why I had come in, and then tested the razor on the point of his bare thumb. I could see all this in the glass. He looked up in a furtive way, passed his razor over the strop a few times more and then slowly rose up and began preparing the lather. He didn’t like me. That was plain enough by the ugly glances from the corners of his ejms. I had no business in there in the first place, and then I had probably disturbed his reverie or broken in on his plans. He did’nt know whether he would shave me or not. Ho stopped making lather set his jaw more firmly, and the look in his eyes grow ugly-. “ Didn’t you hear mo ?” I demanded, as I turned on him of a sudden. “Go ahead and shave me.”

“ Yes, sah ! ” he growled as he lifted up the lather and advanced.

He knew I did not belong to the prison. He also reasoned that I was a stranger. It puzzled him to know why I had entered his den, as I had. been shaved the daj r previous. I could see that he was bothered, but I was glad of it. He reasoned with himself all the time he was putting on the lather, and he got iniid over it. He began to see that it was sort of an intrusion and imposition, and he picked up his razor with a spiteful grab. Yet I would aggravate and anger him. “ That was a horrible deed of your’s,” I said as I seated myself in the chair. I could not see his face, and he made no reply. The razor touched my face, and I felt that his hand trembled.

“ They ought to burn you at the stake ! ” I went on as his razor made the first cut.

I could now see his face in the glass, and his eyes fairly blazed. He clenched his hand and raised it to strike, but let it fall again after four or five seconds and wait on with his work. His hand shook, he breathed hard and fast and yet he made no reply. After he had scraped away for a minute, I said :

“ You must be a trend and worse to do such a deed as that! No wonder that all men hate and avoid you.” The hand with the razor went up into the air. His first impulse was to slash me. He could seize me by the hair with his left hand and slash my throat with his right. The idea came to him, and if 1 had made a move he would have carried it out.

“Come —hurry up!” I said, and his hand fell and he resumed his work, trembling with anger and wondering to himself why he did not wreak his revenge upon mo.

Ah ! I saw a new light shoot into his eyes like a Hash, and I knew ho had a plan. He had committed three murders. Another would bo nothing to his bad heart. He was in for life, and his sentence could not be lengthened. Yet he dared not cut my throat with a sweep of his hand,which ho easily might. What was his plan ? With eyes half shut I watched and wailed. The look in his eyes grow more crafty, he forced a smile to his ■wicked face and tried to laugh as he said ; “ Doan’ be too hard on do ole man, sah—lzc had a heap o’ trouble.” “ Yes.” “ An’ I isn’t so bad as dey try to make out, sah,” he continued as he wiped beard and lather on a piece of paper on my shoulder. “ I could’t see his face, as it was

above me, but the piece of paper fell to the floor on my left side. He had finished shaving the right cheek, and would now begin on the left. What was his plan ? It came to me in an instant. When he had his razor just right his foot would slip on that pieceof soapy paper ! He had dropped it there on purpose, and it would not be a bad excuse.” “Ho, I izn’t so very bad.” he said as he put the razor on my left cheek. I could see his jaw in the glass, and it was hard shut, as if he was terribly in earnest. “Well, perhaps not.” “ Nobody knows how much trouble Ize had sah,” he said, as the razor crept over my check towards the jugular vein, and his fingers tightened their grasp on the handle. He was ready ! “ Jack !” “Yes, sah.” “ A man will live a full minute after his jugular vein has been severed! In that time he could shoot the man who did it ! In five seconds after you cut me I’ll put six bullets into your head !” Would he? The razor shook and trembled on my neck, and he breathed like one with the asthma. His foot was all ready to go down on that paper, but he hesitated. “ Who means to cut you, sah !” he growled as he at last kicked the paper away. “ No one !” I answered as Hooked into his, eyes. He bagan his work again with a tierce scowl on his face, hurried it along and in five minutes had finished. “ Good-bye, old man!” I said as I put on my coat and tossed him a quarter. He lifted his head to give me one fierce and murderous look. The money fell to the floor and he kicked it aside in contempt. “And he didn’t even scratch your face ?” said the Warden as I returned to him. “ No, not a scratch, and it was a close shave, too !”