[English Story] Haircut

I got another barber that comes over from Carterville and
helps me out Saturdays, but the rest of the time I can
get along all right alone. You can see for yourself that
this ain't no New York: City and besides that, the most
of the boys works all day and don't have no leisure to
drop in here and get themselves prettied up.
You're a newcomer, ain't you? I thought I hadn't seen
you round before. I hope you like it good enough to stay.
As I say, we ain't no New York City or Chicago, but we
have pretty good times. Not as good, though, since Jim
Kendall got killed. When he was alive, him and Hod
Meyers used to keep this town in an uproar. I bet they
was more laughin' done here than any town its size in
America.
Jim was comical, and Hod was pretty near a match for
him. Since Jim's gone, Hod tries to hold his end up just
the same as ever, but it's tough goin' when you ain't got
nobody to kind of work with.
They used to be plenty fun in here Saturdays. This place
is jampacked Saturdays, from four o'clock on. Jim and
Hod would show up right after their supper round six
o'clock. Jim would set himself down in that big chair,
nearest the blue spittoon. Whoever had been settin' in
that chair, why they'd get up when Jim come in and at"
it to him.
You'd of thought it was a reserved seat like they have
sometimes in a theaytre. Hod would generally always
stand or walk up and down or some Saturdays, of
course, he'd be settin' in this chair part of the time,
gettin' a haircut.
Well, Jim would set there a w'ile without opening his
mouth only to spit, and then finally he'd say to me,
"Whitey,"--my right name, that is, my right first name, is
Dick, but everybody round here calls me Whitey--Jim
would say, "Whitey, your nose looks like a rosebud
tonight. You must of been drinkin' some of your aw de
cologne."
So I'd say, "No, Jim, but you look like you'd been drinkin'
something of that kind or somethin' worse."
Jim would have to laugh at that, but then he'd speak up
and say, "No, I ain't had nothin' to drink, but that ain't
sayin' I wouldn't like somethin'. I wouldn't even mind if it
was wood alcohol."
Then Hod Meyers would say, "Neither would your wife."
That would set everybody to laughin' because Jim and
his wife wasn't on very good terms. She'd of divorced
him only they wasn't no chance to get alimony and she
didn't have no way to take care of herself and the kids.
She couldn't never understand Jim. He was kind of
rough, but a good fella at heart.
Him and Hod had all kinds of sport with Milt Sheppard. I
don't suppose you've seen Milt. Well, he's got an Adam's
apple that looks more like a mush-melon. So I'd be
shavin' Milt and when I'd start to shave down here on
his neck, Hod would holler, "Hey, Whitey, wait a minute!
Before you cut into it, let's make up a pool and see who
can guess closest to the number of seeds."
And Jim would say, "If Milt hadn't of been so hoggish,
he'd of ordered a half a cantaloupe instead of a whole
one and it might not of stuck in his throat."
All the boys would roar at this and Milt himself would
force a smile, though the joke was on him. Jim certainly
was a card!
There's his shavin' mug, setting on the shelf, right next
to Charley Vail's. "Charles M. Vail." That's the druggist.
He comes in regular for his shave, three times a week.
And Jim's is the cup next to Charley's. "dames H.
Kendall." Jim won't need no shavin' mug no more, but I'll
leave it there just the same for old time's sake. Jim
certainly was a character!
Years ago, Jim used to travel for a canned goods
concern over in Carterville. They sold canned goods. Jim
had the whole northern half of the State and was on the
road five days out of every week. He'd drop in here
Saturdays and tell his experiences for that week. It was
rich.
I guess he paid more attention to playin' jokes than
makin' sales. Finally the concern let him out and he
come right home here and told everybody he'd been
fired instead of sayin' he'd resigned like most fellas
would of.
It was a Saturday and the shop was full and Jim got up
out of that chair and says, "Gentlemen, I got an
important announcement to make. I been fired from my
job."
Well, they asked him if he was in earnest and he said he
was and nobody could think of nothin' to say till Jim
finally broke the ice himself. He says, "I been sellin'
canned goods and now I'm canned goods myself.
You see, the concern he'd been workin' for was a factory
that made canned goods. Over in Carterville. And now
Jim said he was canned himself. He was certainly a card!
Jim had a great trick that he used to play w'ile he was
travelin'. For instance, he'd be ridin' on a train and they'd
come to some little town like, well, like, well, like, we'll
say, like Benton. Jim would look out the train window
and read the signs of the stores.
For instance, they'd be a sign, "Henry Smith, Dry Goods."
Well, Jim would write down the name and the name of
the town and when he got to wherever he was goin' he'd
mail back a postal card to Henry Smith at Benton and
not sign no name to it, but he'd write on the card, well
somethin' like "Ask your wife about that book agent that
spent the afternoon last week," or "Ask your Missus who
kept her from gettin' lonesome the last time you was in
Carterville." And he'd sign the card, "A Friend."
Of course, he never knew what really come of none of
these jokes, but he could picture what probably
happened and that was enough.
Jim didn't work very steady after he lost his position
with the Carterville people. What he did earn, coin' odd
jobs round town why he spent pretty near all of it on
gin, and his family might of starved if the stores hadn't
of carried them along. Jim's wife tried her hand at
dressmakin', but they ain't nobody goin' to get rich
makin' dresses in this town.
As I say, she'd of divorced Jim, only she seen that she
couldn't support herself and the kids and she was always
hopin' that some day Jim would cut out his habits and
give her more than two or three dollars a week.
They was a time when she would go to whoever he was
workin' for and ask them to give her his wages, but after
she done this once or twice, he beat her to it by
borrowin' most of his pay in advance. He told it all round
town, how he had outfoxed his Missus. He certainly was
a caution!
But he wasn't satisfied with just outwittin' her. He was
sore the way she had acted, tryin' to grab off his pay.
And he made up his mind he'd get even. Well, he waited
till Evans's Circus was advertised to come to town. Then
he told his wife and two kiddies that he was goin' to take
them to the circus. The day of the circus, he told them
he would get the tickets and meet them outside the
entrance to the tent.
Well, he didn't have no intentions of bein' there or buyin'
tickets or nothin'. He got full of gin and laid round
Wright's poolroom all day. His wife and the kids waited
and waited and of course he didn't show up. His wife
didn't have a dime with her, or nowhere else, I guess. So
she finally had to tell the kids it was all off and they
cried like they wasn't never goin' to stop.
Well, it seems, w'ile they was cryin', Doc Stair come
along and he asked what was the matter, but Mrs.
Kendall was stubborn and wouldn't tell him, but the kids
told him and he insisted on takin' them and their mother
in the show. Jim found this out afterwards and it was
one reason why he had it in for Doc Stair.
Doc Stair come here about a year and a half ago. He's a
mighty handsome young fella and his clothes always
look like he has them made to order. He goes to Detroit
two or three times a year and w'ile he's there must have
a tailor take his measure and then make him a suit to
order. They cost pretty near twice as much, but they fit a
whole lot better than if you just bought them in a store.
For a w'ile everybody was wonderin' why a young doctor
like Doc Stair should come to a town like this where we
already got old Doc Gamble and Doc Foote that's both
been here for years and all the practice in town was
always divided between the two of them.
Then they was a story got round that Doc Stair's gal had
thronged him over, a gal up in the Northern Peninsula
somewhere, and the reason he come here was to hide
himself away and forget it. He said himself that he
thought they wasn't nothin' like general practice in a
place like ours to fit a man to be a good all round doctor.
And that's why he'd came.
Anyways, it wasn't long before he was makin' enough to
live on, though they tell me that he never dunned
nobody for what they owed him, and the folks here
certainly has got the owin' habit, even in my business. If
I had all that was comin' to me for just shaves alone, I
could go to Carterville and put up at the Mercer for a
week and see a different picture every night. For
instance, they's old George Purdy--but I guess I
shouldn't ought to be gossipin'.
Well, last year, our coroner died, died of the flu. Ken
Beatty, that was his name. He was the coroner. So they
had to choose another man to be coroner in his place
and they picked Doc Stair. He laughed at first and said
he didn't want it, but they made him take it. It ain't no
job that anybody would fight for and what a man makes
out of it in a year would just about buy seeds for their
garden. Doc's the kind, though, that can't say no to
nothin' if you keep at him long enough.
But I was goin' to tell you about a poor boy we got here
in town-Paul Dickson. He fell out of a tree when he was
about ten years old. Lit on his head and it done
somethin' to him and he ain't never been right. No harm
in him, but just silly. Jim Kendall used to call him
cuckoo; that's a name Jim had for anybody that was off
their head, only he called people's head their bean. That
was another of his gags, callin' head bean and callin'
crazy people cuckoo. Only poor Paul ain't crazy, but just
silly.
You can imagine that Jim used to have all kinds of fun
with Paul. He'd send him to the White Front Garage for a
left-handed monkey wrench. Of course they ain't no such
thing as a left-handed monkey wrench.
And once we had a kind of a fair here and they was a
baseball game between the fats and the leans and
before the game started Jim called Paul over and sent
him way down to Schrader's hardware store to get a key
for the pitcher's box.
They wasn't nothin' in the way of gags that Jim couldn't
think up, when he put his mind to it.
Poor Paul was always kind of suspicious of people,
maybe on account of how Jim had kept foolin' him. Paul
wouldn't have much to do with anybody only his own
mother and Doc Stair and a girl here in town named Julie
Gregg. That is, she ain't a girl no more, but pretty near
thirty or over.
When Doc first come to town, Paul seemed to feel like
here was a real friend and he hung round Doc's office
most of the w'ile; the only time he wasn't there was
when he'd go home to eat or sleep or when he seen
Julie Gregg coin' her shoppin'.
When he looked out Doc's window and seen her, he'd
run downstairs and join her and tag along with her to
the different stores. The poor boy was crazy about Julie
and she always treated him mighty nice and made him
feel like he was welcome, though of course it wasn't
nothin' but pity on her side.
Doc done all he could to improve Paul's mind and he
told me once that he really thought the boy was getting
better, that they was times when he was as bright and
sensible as anybody else.
But I was goin' to tell you about Julie Gregg. Old man
Gregg was in the lumber business, but got to drinkin' and
lost the most of his money and when he died, he didn't
leave nothin' but the house and just enough insurance
for the girl to skimp along on.
Her mother was a kind of a half invalid and didn't hardly
ever leave the house. Julie wanted to sell the place and
move somewhere else after the old man died, but the
mother said she was born here and would die here. It
was tough on Julie as the young people round this
town--well, she's too good for them.
She'd been away to school and Chicago and New York
and different places and they ain't no subject she can't
talk on, where you take the rest of the young folks here
and you mention anything to them outside of Gloria
Swanson or Tommy Meighan and they think you're
delirious. Did you see Gloria in Wages of Virtue? You
missed somethin'!
Well, Doc Stair hadn't been here more than a week when
he came in one day to get shaved and I recognized who
he was, as he had been pointed out to me, so I told him
about my old lady. She's been ailin' for a couple years
and either Doc Gamble or Doc Foote, neither one,
seemed to be helpin' her. So he said he would come out
and see her, but if she was able to get out herself, it
would be better to bring her to his office where he could
make a completer examination.
So I took her to his office and w'ile I was waitin' for her
in the reception room, in come Julie Gregg. When
somebody comes in Doc Stair's office, they's a bell that
rings in his inside office so he can tell they's somebody
to see him.
So he left my old lady inside and come out to the front
office and that's the first time him and Julie met and I
guess it was what they call love at first sight. But it
wasn't fifty-fifty. This young fella was the slickest lookin'
fella she'd ever seen in this town and she went wild over
him. To him she was just a young lady that wanted to
see the doctor.
She'd came on about the same business I had. Her
mother had been doctorin' for years with Doc Gamble
and Doc Foote and with" out no results. So she'd heard
they was a new doc in town and decided to give him a
try. He promised to call and see her mother that same
day.
I said a minute ago that it was love at first sight on her
part. I'm not only judgin' by how she acted afterwards
but how she looked at him that first day in his office. I
ain't no mind reader, but it was wrote all over her face
that she was gone.
Now Jim Kendall, besides bein' a jokesmith and a pretty
good drinker, well Jim was quite a lady-killer. I guess he
run pretty wild durin' the time he was on the road for
them Carterville people, and besides that, he'd had a
couple little affairs of the heart right here in town. As I
say, his wife would have divorced him, only she couldn't.
But Jim was like the majority of men, and women, too, I
guess. He wanted what he couldn't get. He wanted Julie
Gregg and worked his head off tryin' to land her. Only
he'd of said bean instead of head.
Well, Jim's habits and his jokes didn't appeal to Julie and
of course he was a married man, so he didn't have no
more chance than, well, than a rabbit. That's an
expression of Jim's himself. When somebody didn't have
no chance to get elected or somethin', Jim would always
say they didn't have no more chance than a rabbit.
He didn't make no bones about how he felt. Right in
here, more than once, in front of the whole crowd, he
said he was stuck on Julie and anybody that could get
her for him was welcome to his house and his wife and
kids included. But she wouldn't have nothin' to do with
him; wouldn't even speak to him on the street. He finally
seen he wasn't gettin' nowheres with his usual line so he
decided to try the rough stuff. He went right up to her
house one evenin' and when she opened the door he
forced his way in and grabbed her. But she broke loose
and before he could stop her, she run in the next room
and locked the door and phoned to Joe Barnes. Joe's
the marshal. Jim could hear who she was phonin' to and
he beat it before Joe got there.
Joe was an old friend of Julie's pa. Joe went to Jim the
next day and told him what would happen if he ever
done it again.
I don't know how the news of this little affair leaked out.
Chances is that Joe Barnes told his wife and she told
somebody else's wife and they told their husband.
Anyways, it did leak out and Hod Meyers had the nerve
to kid Jim about it, right here in this shop. Jim didn't
deny nothin' and kind of laughed it off and said for us all
to wait; that lots of people had tried to make a monkey
out of him, but he always got even.
Meanw'ile everybody in town was wise to Julie's bein'
wild mad over the Doc. I don't suppose she had any idea
how her face changed when him and her was together;
of course she couldn't of, or she'd of kept away from
him. And she didn't know that we was all noticin' how
many times she made excuses to go up to his office or
pass it on the other side of the street and look up in his
window to see if he was there. I felt sorry for her and so
did most other people.
Hod Meyers kept rubbin' it into Jim about how the Doc
had cut him out. Jim didn't pay no attention to the
kiddie' and you could see he was plannin' one of his
jokes.
One trick Jim had was the knack of changin' his voice.
He could make you think he was a girl talkie' and he
could mimic any man's voice. To show you how good he
was along this line, I'll tell you the joke he played on me
once.
You know, in most towns of any size, when a man is
dead and needs a shave, why the barber that shaves him
soaks him five dollars for the job; that is, he don't soak
him, but whoever ordered the shave. I just charge three
dollars because personally I don't mind much shavin' a
dead person. They lay a whole lot stiller than live
customers. The only thing is that you don't feel like
talkie' to them and you get kind of lonesome.
Well, about the coldest day we ever had here, two years
ago last winter, the phone rung at the house w'ile I was
home to dinner and I answered the phone and it was a
woman's voice and she said she was Mrs. John Scott
and her husband was dead and would I come out and
shave him.
Old John had always been a good customer of mine. But
they live seven miles out in the country, on the Streeter
road. Still I didn't see how I could say no.
So I said I would be there, but would have to come in a
jitney and it might cost three or four dollars besides the
price of the shave. So she, or the voice, it said that was
all right, so I got Frank Abbott to drive me out to the
place and when I got there, who should open the door
but old John himself! He wasn't no more dead than, well,
than a rabbit.
It didn't take no private detective to figure out who had
played me this little joke. Nobody could of thought it up
but Jim Kendall. He certainly was a card!
I tell you this incident just to show you how he could
disguise his voice and make you believe it was
somebody else talkie'. I'd of swore it was Mrs. Scott had
called me. Anyways, some woman.
Well, Jim waited till he had Doc Stair's voice down pat;
then he went after revenge.
He called Julie up on a night when he knew Doc was
over in Carterville. She never questioned but what it was
Doc's voice. Jim said he must see her that night; he
couldn't wait no longer to tell her somethin'. She was all
excited and told him to come to the house. But he said
he was expectin' an important long distance call and
wouldn't she please forget her manners for once and
come to his office. He said they couldn't nothin' hurt her
and nobody would see her and he just must talk to her a
little w'ile. Well, poor Julie fell for it.
Doc always keeps a night light in his office, so it looked
to Julie like they was somebody there.
Meanw'ile Jim Kendall had went to Wright's poolroom,
where they was a whole gang amusin' themselves. The
most of them had drank plenty of gin, and they was a
rough bunch even when sober. They was always strong
for Jim's jokes and when he told them to come with him
and see some fun they give up their card games and
pool games and followed along.
Doc's office is on the second floor. Right outside his
door they's a flight of stairs leadin' to the floor above.
Jim and his gang hid in the dark behind these stairs.
Well, tulle come up to Doc's door and rung the bell and
they was nothin' coin'. She rung it again and she rung it
seven or eight times. Then she tried the door and found
it locked. Then Jim made some kind of a noise and she
heard it and waited a minute, and then she says, "Is that
you, Ralph?" Ralph is Doc's first name.
They was no answer and it must of came to her all of a
sudden that she'd been bunked. She pretty near fell
downstairs and the whole gang after her. They chased
her all the way home, hollerin', "Is that you, Ralph?" and
"Oh, Ralphie, dear, is that you?" Jim says he couldn't
holler it himself, as he was laughin' too hard.
Poor Julie! She didn't show up here on Main Street for a
long, long time afterward.
And of course Jim and his gang told everybody in town,
everybody but Doc Stair. They was scared to tell him,
and he might of never knowed only for Paul Dickson.
The poor cuckoo, as Jim called him, he was here in the
shop one night when Jim was still gloatin' yet over what
he'd done to Julie. And Paul took in as much of it as he
could understand and he run to Doc with the story.
It's a cinch Doc went up in the air and swore he'd make
Jim suffer. But it was a kind of a delicate thing, because
if it got out that he had beat Jim up, Julie was bound to
hear of it and then she'd know that Doc knew and of
course knowin' that he knew would make it worse for her
than ever. He was goin' to do somethin', but it took a lot
of figurin'.
Well, it was a couple days later when Jim was here in the
shop again, and so was the cuckoo. Jim was goin' duck-
shootin' the next day and had come in lookin' for Hod
Meyers to go with him. I happened to know that Hod
had went over to Carterville and wouldn't be home till the
end of the week. So Jim said he hated to go alone and
he guessed he would call it off. Then poor Paul spoke up
and said if Jim would take him he would go along. Jim
thought a w'ile and then he said, well, he guessed a half-
wit was better than nothin'.
I suppose he was plottin' to get Paul out in the boat and
play some joke on him, like pushin' him in the water.
Anyways, he said Paul could go. He asked him had he
ever shot a duck and Paul said no, he'd never even had
a gun in his hands. So Jim said he could set in the boat
and watch him and if he behaved himself, he might lend
him his gun for a couple of shots. They made a date to
meet in the mornin' and that's the last I seen of Jim
alive.
Next mornin', I hadn't been open more than ten minutes
when Doc Stair come in. He looked kind of nervous. He
asked me had I seen Paul Dickson. I said no, but I knew
where he was, out duckshootin' with Jim Kendall. So Doc
says that's what he had heard, and he couldn't
understand it because Paul had told him he wouldn't
never have no more to do with Jim as long as he lived.
He said Paul had told him about the joke Jim had played
on Julie. He said Paul had asked him what he thought of
the joke and the Doc told him that anybody that would
do a thing like that ought not to be let live. I said it had
been a kind of a raw thing, but Jim just couldn't resist
no kind of a joke, no matter how raw. I said I thought he
was all right at heart, but just bubblin' over with
mischief. Doc turned and walked out.
At noon he got a phone call from old John Scott. The
lake where Jim and Paul had went shootin' is on John's
place. Paul had came runnin' up to the house a few
minutes before and said they'd been an accident. Jim
had shot a few ducks and then give the gun to Paul and
told him to try his luck. Paul hadn't never handled a gun
and he was nervous. He was shakin' so hard that he
couldn't control the gun. He let fire and Jim sunk back in
the boat, dead.
Doc Stair, bein' the coroner, jumped in Frank Abbott's
flivver and rushed out to Scott's farm. Paul and old John
was down on the shore of the lake. Paul had rowed the
boat to shore, but they'd left the body in it, waiting for
Doc to come.
Doc examined the body and said they might as well fetch
it back to town. They was no use leavin' it there or callin'
a jury, as it was a plain case of accidental shootin'.
Personally I wouldn't never leave a person shoot a gun in
the same boat I was in unless I was sure they knew
somethin' about guns. Jim was a sucker to leave a new
beginner have his gun, let alone a half-wit. It probably
served Jim right, what he got. But still we miss him
round here. He certainly was a card! Comb it wet or dry?