"I know it," said the Indian; "but I was put next only an hour
ago--hence the delay. The bay rum, please!"

"You want it for the hair?" inquired the barber.

"No, I want it for a souse," said the Indian.

"Get in the chair, please!" said the barber.

"Man-Behind-The-Snip-Snap speaks foolish," said the Indian. "I am not
for a hair cut; I am for that bay rum idea. Heap thirst! Don't keep me
waiting!"

The barber turned pale as the awful truth flashed across him.

"What is your name?" he said painfully.

"Man-Afraid-Of-A-Shampoo," said the Indian, sullenly.

"Nice Indian! pretty Indian! good Indian! You are not compelled to get
your hair cut, you know!" said the barber, wishing to avoid bloodshed.

"Paleface give me heap pain," said Man-Afraid-Of-A-Shampoo, fiercely.

Sniffles, the barber, trembled and believed him.

"Ugh!" said the Indian.

"Ugh!" has the same meaning in Indian as the word "Oof!" has in English.

"When I came in paleface said I was next," said Man-Afraid-Of-A-Shampoo.
"Well, I am next to this business. You have bay rum and I have a
thirst--let us get together!"

"But the bay rum is used only on the outside of the head," said the
barber.

"I have original ideas about bay rum," said the Indian, "therefore I
have decided to use it on the inside of my neck!"

"But bay rum is five cents extra with a hair cut," whispered the barber.

It was his last whisper in that shop.

Shouting the battle cry of the Cherokees, the Indian, grabbed the bay
rum bottle and poured it carefully over his thirst.

[Illustration]

This was followed by a bottle of hair tonic, which seemed to go to his
head.

Then the Indian swallowed a bottle of whisker dye and all seemed to grow
black before him.

The barber groaned in agony.

It was thrilling.

When last seen the Indian was drinking a bottle of dry shampoo and
foaming at the mouth, while he blessed the White Father at Washington
for inventing the barber shop.

That afternoon Sniffles, the barber, and Mike, his under secretary,
walked back to Washington and handed in their resignation to the
Interior Department.

[Illustration: "J--The Tip End of the season."]

Jolly not that you be not jollied.

Justice is blind for the reason that some lawyers would give her a pain
if she could see them.

Journeys end in porter tippings.

Just as you value yourself justly just that much are you valuable.

* * * * *

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