BATTLING BARBERS.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXII, Issue 59, 5 March 1912, Page 8

BATTLING BARBERS.

WAR ON THE WINDOWS. (Sydney Sun.) Two people in the same line of business, whose shops are located almost next door to one another seldom agree. They are on very friendly relations for a while, but when o ae endeavours to undersell the other then the healthy rivalry that is good for any class of business suddenly and surely disappears, and its place is taken by a hatred the bitterness of which is as pronounced as a red patch in a pair of tennis trousers. All this has reference to two people who carry on the 'trade of hairdressers and tobacconists not far from the Central Railway Station. Their shops would have been next door to one another had not a tailor dumped his claim down between them. (And as tilings have turned out it is perhaps just as well that tailor did insert his business between the houses of tho tonsorial artists.

Until a little while ago, so the story runs, these two men who are the subject of tins discussion were bosom friends. Be tin’s as it may, the two barbers are no longer chums. Rather they are deadly enemies.

“Cigarettes 2.U1 per packet.” That was what started it, and one “Tag has led to another. Yesterday the climax was reached, and war lias nowbeen openly declared.

Tho reason for this is that from Monday the master hairdressers and file employees ’union agreed upon an increase in prices. No. 1 is a member of the masters’ association, but No. 2is not. Therefore, when No. 1 declared his intention of falling into line with the other members of the association, No. 2 regarded it as necessary that he should take up and fight for the other side. That side happens to be the minority, but that doesn’t concern No. 2 in the least.

When No 2 came outside to sweep his footpath yesterday morning lie saw No. 1 doing good business at tho increased rate. Ten minutes later bis window was turned inside out. Instead of a display of shaving mugs and 2Jd cigarettes No. 2’s windowcontained a miniature battle ground. There wore desert stretches, deep trendies, and rugged hills, with every conceivable weapon of warfare, from toy cannons to old-fashioned sabres that had seen livelier days. Across the window in flaring red ran tlie intimation “War declared,” and just underneath hung a photograph of the proprietor holding a huge revolver, depicting that it was “Bill taking ,up arms to defend the workers.” That riled the man lower down— No. 1. With the aid of some powdered rhalk he set about decorating his -window. His first specimen of handwriting was “Uni/tod we stand. This shop is manned by loyal union labour only.”

No. 2 returned to the attack with another sign. “Don’t argue—Bill’s cheaper. Bill pays union wages.” But if “Bill” thought that this was going (to lie the knock-out lie was sajdly disappointed. No. 1 became a little personal by announcing on his shopfront, “For a square deal this shop every time.”

The fight by this time was so interesting that a policeman had all lie could do to keep the ever-increasing crowd on the move. '“Bill” was not to be out-done. Fresh matter for signs same rushing into Ids head like wildfire, and it was all his assistants could do to keep pace with supplies of powdered chalk. “This is not a tied house,” he insinuated, and this he followed with “Why should the increased price ho home by the workers? Bill will not raise the prices.” No. 1 either ran out of chalk or his brain was in too much of a whirl to permit him to think out any replies 'to these challenges. Whatever the cause, he did not participate in the battle further. This was No 2’s opportunity. “Bill” seemed to be flowing over with tilings to paint on his window. All his hands were working, In it they could not keep pace with him. He called in the tailor from next door, and by concerted action they succeeded in painting such things as “Bill’s motto—reduce rents, tobacco, cigarettes, shaving, and haircutting,” and “Who was the shop assistants’ delegate who fought for higher wages? Who pays union wages always? Why, Bill.”

Bill’s snop-front is not as big as the Cricket Ground scoring board, and even if it were it stands to reason that it could not hold everything that was written on it without getting completely covered. And as William had yet another dig for his rival it seemed only right that it should see the light of day. Where was he to put it? His own window was full of lettering of a more or less artistic character. Ah, the tailor next door has shown partiality by holding his ladder earlier in the day. Why not ask him for the loan of his window? The tailor man was happy to lie of service. Why should he pay 9d to get his hair cut if “Bill” would do it for Gd? Tes, Bill could h ave his window, but there was one difficulty. The sign could not he painted right across or 'the workers might think he was supporting higher prices, and then where would his trade go? The difficulty was submitted to “Bill.” He soon overcame such a trifling matter. A fresh supply of whitewash was procured, and with an agitated hand this was written on the side of the tailor’s window next to “Bill’s” shop: “Masters’ increased profits, on shaving 33 1-3 per cent, on haircutting 50 per cent; total, 83 1-3 per cent.” And so the war waged all day , long.