United States or Dominica ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He imagines he's an artist, because he plays the guitar; and besides he has a Republican grouch, and was a great admirer of her father's. He's the only one in town who followed all she was up to, in the papers. They say she doesn't sing under her own name, but uses some prettier sounding one foreign, I believe. Cupido is a regular busybody and you can get all the latest news in his barbershop.
Jerry brushed off bits of gravel from his Sunday dinner. Red's teeth marks didn't show unless you looked very closely. Jerry wrapped the leg of lamb in the torn paper bag. It was a lucky thing he had come out of the barbershop before Red had run off with it. "That dog is getting to be a nuisance," he thought.
The truth of the matter was that in the neighborhood were two villages so small that the apothecary and barbershop in one of them had to serve for both. The village barber had just been summoned to shave and bleed a patient in the adjoining community, so he mounted his ass, armed with a brass basin for the bleeding, and set off. He had got about half-way, when it commenced to rain.
Billfinger stepped to the door to call a carriage, and then the doctor said: "Well, the guide goes with the barbershop, with the billiard-table, with the gasless room, and may be with many another pretty romance of Paris.
He had another thought, too. "What time is it?" Barby consulted her watch. "Five before eight. Why?" "The barbershop doesn't open until nine. I think it might be useful to have someone call on the houseboaters and try to pump them a little. It might be interesting to hear why they chose to anchor in North Cove." Barby's eyes got round. "Would you do it?" Rick shook his head.
"Hey, this is a barbershop, and it's closed for the night." Rick looked, then switched on the dome light. He compared the letterhead number and the number on the door. Clearly, it was 5022, unless they had mistaken threes for twos. The only difference between the two numbers was an extra squiggle in the upper line of the three. He checked the letter again. No, they were twos. He said so.
Why, I thought by now you'd have the barbershop wired for sound." Rick stared at him. Wired! Why not? And it wasn't too late, if Jerry would help. "Will you do something more for me?" Jerry looked martyred. "Might as well. I'm in this up to my neck, anyway." Scotty joined them. He had parked the car around the corner. "What's happening?" "Just had a brain storm," Rick told him.
The folks had been friendly, but he thought they were a little nervous, and anxious to get rid of him. He had no other information of value. At midafternoon Jerry went on a brief sortie, came back, and reported business was slow in the barbershop, which was not unusual for a Tuesday. The barber was reading a magazine. Rick and Scotty were restless.
After the royal and military procession began, the patient Johnnies, with their sisters, sweethearts, wives, mothers, grandmothers, and great-grand-mothers, stood for five hours to see it go by. The Englishman does not tire when he is honoring his country. At the close of this parade we dropped into a barbershop for a shave. The gentleman seemed to understand that I was a long ways from home.
The gentlemen of the Ayuntamiento feared the barber more than any ten newspapers combined, and whenever some famous Conservative minister referred in parliament to a "revolutionary hydra" or a "hotbed of anarchy," they pictured to themselves a barbershop like that of Cupido, but much larger perhaps, scattering a poisonous atmosphere of cruel gibe and perverse effrontery all through the nation.
Word Of The Day