Morning journal and courier., 1886-01-22
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 Whehetet tisit Pafis, ttB fie# e9iffeHf, #ith t Fia# 6f stealing his ideaaj If he hHs anF: fhis is H9t etten, as iHBat e8iffeHfs afe faf fnare intent Hp8n seitins tAeif Wates thAA pP9H stna{iHs lhe shaFe af heaaa. tifet tAeE sigh 9Eer YaHr hail. It is t99 leHg er tag shprt, tQQ thin, tpe thick, pr tao same
 lining What YoH need is 2 braid. The more expensive the better. WithqHt lt, life Is an aching void. They pour so much oblQquy on your poor head that in a moment of weak ness you listen to the voice of the tempter and find yourself sole possessor of another woman's hair Coiffeurs are miserable at the sight of thick hair Their occupation Is gone, and am persuaded that the majority of preparations for the scalp are devised for the purpose of injuring it. A woman, a great artist in hair, who makes all the wigs for the leading Parisian actresses, frankly confessed to me that she rejoiced in no-halr ed swomen. They inspire me to produce works of art. Hair growing on the head is d bother q assure you," she continued ear nestly, ''that nature disgusts me. It never grows in the right places. I can put false hair wherever I like, and behold a chef d'euvre!" I am forced to admit that this woman's wigs lovely. "Pardon me, mademoiselle," says the present coiffeur, ''but it is impossible to produce the desired effect with your hair-it is too short" Here he gives my head dig and looks ineffable contempt. As I've gone through this per formance before, I not crushed. ''You need very long braid like this have here.'' elf you need braid here are half dozen" I replied, opening box in which are slowed the remains of former folly Figaro starts Regaining cOmposure he dresses my hair with my own braid, making big-headed as I ought not to be. ''Don't you see that won't dol" I say. ''Parfaitement, made moiselle You do not need long braid. Your hair has a breeze in it. You require short curls and frizzes-voila. Just your color" ''Here are curls and frizzles," I re- tort, opening another box. Figaro gaspel smiled sickly smile, and taking down the long, braided mountain builds an editice that takes two inches off my height. When it is finished turn upon Figaro, "You know I look like fright. I cannot bear mass of false hair. Take it off and dress my own hair simply. "Vous avez raison, mademoi- selle, vous entrez dans le vrai. Now that ! study your head perceive it's requirements. Attendez." I attendez, and Figaro turns nature into excellent art. "There," he ex- claims, after the final touch, s'that is noble example of the haute ecole. Few of my freres can approach, none can equal it." Lo, at last conquer coiffeur and get an idea. Figaro is not the only clever Frenchman who offers what is false until his patrons demand what is true. According to Paris, all foreign CTS are barbarians in taste, whose only claim to tolerance is money, which is most readily extracted by judicious applications of fattery. Human nature is always frail, particularly when it visits Paris. There all weaknesses break out, and, like the measles, come to the surface. Many saints would be full grown sinners, given the opportunities Paris affords.