The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1882-09-23
A. BEAN.

1t was queer shop in a quaint little
house, about which a large city had
slowly grown. The people were quiet
folk who never hurried. SO long as the
walls stood firm and strong, and it
rented to peaceful tenants who paid
their rent promptly, it never occurred
to the owner of the old house to tear it
down. There were two rooms upstairs
which were occupied by an old tailor,
and two rooms downstairs where A.
Bean lived and kept his shop.
On one side of the shop were blocks
on which were all sorts of wigs, black,
brown and yellow, and one very funny
woolly wig for a colored person. In the
old showcase was every sort OF thing
made of hair, that people ever put upon
their heads. On the opposite side of
the room was along showcase in which
were pretty laces, real--not imitation.
In the middle of the room stood square
box stove, on the top of which was. one
big grddle.
The top of the shop door was of glass,
and across it was painted in black let
ters "A. Bean" Whenever any one
opened that door smart little bell
rang, when A. Bean would dart out of
the back room, which was at once a bed
room, store-room and kitchen. The
back room had in it besides a small bed
stead, an old lounge, two chairs, and n
small table on which A. Bean spread
his frugal meals and did his work.
There was usually huge pile of hair
upon it, and his hatchel and the other
appliances used in wig making. A few
hairs more or less did not trouble his di-
gestion. Above the table was rough
set of shelves, on which was the tin
basin in which A. Bean made his tea
and coffee. A plate, cup and saucer,
knife and fork, and saucepan, COM
pleted the list. None of these utensils
We're very clean. On the wall hung
wigs. switches and curls, in various
stages of completion.
A. Bean himself was lean, little man,
very short-sighted, equally absent
minded, and given to soliloquizing to
his wig-blocks. He also imagined HIM
self philosopher.
You'd lose your head. A. Bean" he
would often say to himself when he had
been more forgetful than usual. "You'
certainly lose your head, if it wasn't
tied on you"
just outside the door that opened into
the little back yard was curious tree.
Years before, man who had kept an
eating-room in the house had planted
there a seed which he had found in a
bag of coffee. Every June it was COW
cred with pretty blossoms, and scien-
tific men often came to see it, but as
get no one had been able to tell its
name, or where it came from, and A.
Bean felt that somehow this curious tree
Aelonged to him, and conferred distinc-
uon on his shop.
1t was early in the morning. A
theatrical company wanted some wigs
that evening, and A. Bean table was q
perfect snarl of hair. His teakettle was
singing on the box-stove in the shop,
and he had set down his cup and saucer
and the roll of bread he had bought the
night before. "A philosopher, he
said with flourish to the nearest wig
block, lis always superior to his sur
roundings, and that is the reason women
are never philosophers. How glad | an
I'm not tied to one of EN-. little or big. -
just then the shop-bell rang violently.
"What do folks mean by coming be.
fore I'm up" The little man spoke
angrily for a philosopher; but when he
saw his visitor he laughed.
"Wellp he said after minute, "What
is FTP A wig? May be you want . set
of frizzes now, or lace tichup'