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Show LIGHTS OF NEW YORK Sw tmbi. John Golden, in years gone by, made many courageous efforts to do his own shaving. Had he put a notch in the handle of the razor to mark every time he cut himself, it would have resembled re-sembled the butt of a western bad man's gun. Mr. Golden had a face which nicked easily. For years after that he was a patron of one shop. Finally, that barber went out of business. busi-ness. On the closing day, Mr. Golden said to him : ' "Isn't there an agency where you get these men of yours? Could I go there and hire a barber?" The man said he could and gave him the address. Mr. Golden proceeded proceed-ed to the place mentioned and there found some three dozen men, fair and dark, short and tall. "Are all you fellows barbers?" he said. "All right. Give me your attention. at-tention. I want," said Mr. Golden in the voice he uses to address a cast at rehearsals, "a barber. I want a barber bar-ber who will shave me as I tell him to, quietly and efficiently, removing the beard while permitting the epidermis epider-mis to remain. I want a man who use a razor in one band without having to hold a block of alum in the other; a man who hates the sight of blood. Who wants the job?" "I'll take that job," said a little volunteer, vol-unteer, stepping from the ranks. "You are hired," said Mr. Golden. "Bring your props." .Together they repaired to John Golden's office. . The barber shaved him, with never a nick. Mr. Golden was delighted but felt there was something lacking. "We should have a barber chair," he said. The barber said that he would get a chair. He knew where a very fine chair could be purchased second-hand. It could be obtained at small cost. "Splendid," said John Golden. "Buy the chair and buy all those little bottles bot-tles you barbers use. We may as well do this this right." So the bottles were purchased, and the chair was purchased, and they were installed in the room off Mr. Golden's office the room where the shower bath is and there they stand until this day. On one occasion Mr. Golden was showing a friend his outfit. He was about to be shaved and all was in readiness. The friend congratulated him. "You have the best one-man barber shop I have ever seen," he said. "It seems to be absolutely complete, except ex-cept for one thing. You should have a pole." The little barber spoke quietly from his lather mixing! "It is complete, sir," he said. "I was born in Warsaw. I am the Pole." A man of considerable wealth and importance met a young fellow and was so impressed by him that he decided de-cided he would try him out on some business. Instead of telephoning or asking the young fellow to call on him, the man stopped in at his office. But in the outer room the young chap had a secretary who believed in emphasizing em-phasizing his importance. She did not recognize the visitor's name and, when he asked that her employer be told he was there, said firmly: "What did you want to see him for?" "You are right," said the visitor. "What did I want to see him for?" And he walked out, closing the dooi behind him. Jimmy Walker, Gene Tunney, George Olvaney, Emil Fuchs and Sam Breadon are among those born in New York's Greenwich village. They all appear to have got a good start and to have done pretty well. A mayor, a heavyweight heavy-weight champion, a political leader and judge, and two owners of major league baseball clubs that's a fair output for one neighborhood. (. 1932. Bell Syndicate.) WNU Service. |