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Updated: June 3, 2025
So now, you just take my advice, and whenever you find yourself drunk about bedtime, you just take a good shampoo, and you'll find the investment will pay a big dividend in the morning. But walk into the saloon, gentlemen; walk in. The girls are in there taking a rest and a smoke, after the arduous duties of the evening. Walk in.
He thought of waiting, but to stop the powerful system of the Pompeian was inconceivable, and he was instantly wafted into a chair. About him was luxury, rich and delicate. One votary was having a violet-ray facial treatment, the next an oil shampoo. Boys wheeled about miraculous electrical massage-machines.
"`Find it fresh'ning, sir? I says. "`Heavenly, he says. "`You want a good shampoo, sir, I says. `There's a deal o' dandruff in your head. "`That's what the hairdresser said, says he, an' he sighs again. "`Oh, yes; I know, says I; `they allus do, and wants you to buy bottles o' their tintry-cum-fuldicus. You leave it to me, sir.
One day when Doty was engaged in the duty of cooking flap-jacks another frolicsome fellow came up and took off the cook's hat and commenced going through the motions of a barber giving his customer a vigorous shampoo, saying: "I am going to make a Jayhawker out of you, old boy."
Then he suggested a shampoo, and said my hair needed it badly, very badly. I observed that I shampooed it myself very thoroughly in the bath yesterday. I "had him" again. He next recommended some of "Smith's Hair Glorifier," and offered to sell me a bottle. I declined. He praised the new perfume, "Jones's Delight of the Toilet," and proposed to sell me some of that. I declined again.
Nothing centers on him in the city, where he thinks by "mental massage" through the scalp with laying on of hands, as by benediction or shampoo. But for the busy man, say of forty, are the hills of Hingham with their adventure possible? The man of forty has a right to so much of the Promised Land as a hill in Hingham.
He's sending in a cart by a groom, and I'm to tak' Bobby out and fetch him hame after a braw dinner on gowd plate. The bairns meant weel, but they could no' give Bobby a washing fit for a veesit with the nobeelity. I had to tak' him to a barber for a shampoo." Mr. Brown roared with laughter. "Man, ye hae mair fule notions i' yer heid.
Slop about in slipperslappers for fear he'd wake. Then getting it ready. Laying it out. Molly and Mrs Fleming making the bed. Pull it more to your side. Our windingsheet. Never know who will touch you dead. Wash and shampoo. I believe they clip the nails and the hair. Keep a bit in an envelope. Grows all the same after. Unclean job. All waited. Nothing was said. Stowing in the wreaths probably.
"It's easy to keep your hair looking pretty," said the girl, as she worked. "I'm going to give you a little box of my nice sweet-smelling soap-powder that I use to shampoo my hair. You take it home and wash your hair with it every two or three weeks and you'll see it will make a difference in a little while. You just haven't taken time to take care of it, that's all.
"Shampoo" comes from a verb "champna," to press or squeeze, and the imperative, "champo," as often happens, was the form in which it became English. Forbes, in his Oriental Memoirs, writes of "the effects of opium, champoing and other luxuries indulged in by Oriental sensualists."
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