Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-02-25
HIS MEAN REVENGE

Her hair was neutral in tint or tints-or,
rather, it was vari-hued.
That is to say, there were strands of dark
yellow, a heavy under-stratum of indeci-
sive brown and a number of scattered wisps
of bronze red.
All of the hair was naturally wavy, and
it was rather attractive and fetching on
account of the oddly of the color scheme
of it.
Her husband liked (which, under old
fashioned domestic canons. ought to have
been enough-and he called her the rain
bow-headed" and the "prismatic-haired'
and the ''crazy-quilt -hirsuted"-not at all in
a mean, coarse, masculine way of jlbins.
but in a manner of affection. because he
really liked his wife's hair as 1t was.
But she didn't like 1t.
Its variety of tints worried her.
She wanted one-color hair, and this one
color was bronze.
weeks ago, I'm going to have my hair
touched up"
joe let his pipe fall out of his hands
and got ashes all over his new $2.4S fancy
vest
"Y'are, hey?' said he. You only think
dreaming of, anyhow"
Just this she replied, in a matter-of-
fact, H's-all-off tone. There's a bit of
every color known to science in my hair
except blue and green and purple. YOU
yourself, call me 'chameleon-topped.' I'm
tired of having all sorts and conditions of
hair. Moreover, I've got a fair, liy-white
skin and bee-yu-tiful hazel eyes-Im only
quoting you, and you know you used to
tell me they were the gorgeousest eyes on
the map-and bronzy hair would just suit
me- Wherefore, 1 remark again, in tone
OF mingled yearning and settled decision,
Joseph, I'm going to have my hair touched
up"
Well I'll tell you one thing he replied.
gazing at her steadfastly, IF you do that
it'll let me out. It'll be the finish. I'll go
to sea. I'll go to New York take some
other equally short route to the demnition
bow-wows. You hear me a-talking?''
But, joe" she said-and she addressed
him now from no greater distance than his
own knee-"1 just want to have my hair
touched up, see?"
You're a pretty fancy wheed1er. but it
don't go, see?" was his retort. Il don't see
anything the matter with your hair as it
stands. What's the matter with your hairY
You've got bully hair. I'd rather toy with
that hafr-here, femme alone-I can't get
my breath Who's been putting such stuff
into your head? Who dye want to look
like-Mrs. zaza Carter, or Lydia Pinkham
at the age of ia? Drop it, my dear Your
hairs good enough for me- Wait till you
get me under the sod, and then you can
nave 1t painted ultramarine if you want
But" she persisted. cant 1 just have 1t
touched up at the sides and around the
front and top-5ust little, teeny weeny bit
Nope, you can't he replied with deci-
sion. Its all off. I have spoke. And say,
would you mind letting me read my even
ing paper in peace for about four consecu-
tive seconds without interrupting me with
such fooIishness?
That the matter wasn't settled, of course
anybody reading this will know in advance
without looking down the page.
She got very swagger blue tailor-made
dress about ten days ago, and the idea of
bronze hair in combination with the blue
dress took possession of her.
Joe she said to him on the evening the
blue dress was delivered to her, with refer
ence to my about-to-be- bronzed hair"
Il have the honor to inform you that
there isn't going to be any bronzing,' inter-
rupted joe carrying out her business
letter form of conversation. Whereat she
ceased.
'Tll just go down and have it done. any,
way" said she to herself the next morning
Hell be delighted with the way it looks
that he'll just fall upon my neck and weep
She had it done Not touched UP. All
over Dead bronze.
When the job was done, and she saw her
self in the glass, she didn't admire herself
SO much as she had anticipated she would.
Nor was she quite so confident that when
her husband her transformed head he
would fall upon her neck and, etc, etc.
"Uh-huh,' he said, when he came in that
evening. you've done it, see"
Like it, Joeyboy?'
Her tone was airy, but it was bluff.
He dldn say word A gloomy silence
brooded over the fiat for the remainder Of
the evening.
When he went to his Office the next morn
ing steely light glttered in his eye.
He tugged at his straw, red brown and
auburn-mixed mustache savagely.
| Then he repaired to a Motel barber shop
and had his straw, red. brown and auburn
mixed mustache dyed a deep, dull, I'M
fashionable, Stygian black.
When he emerged from the hotel barber
shop the hrsute fringe on his upper lip
was the blacklist thing ever seen on land
or sea.
1t was so black that it made him look
like a photograph taken after his decease.
He endured the guying of his friends and
associates for the remainder of the day, and
then he went home and burst into the fiat
with grisly attempt at a CHEEKY grin and
a bluff manner.
His wife met him in the fat hall.
'h ''Well, how dye like it?" he inquired of
her. Great isn't it? Real thing, hey?
Thought I'd have it fixed up as a sort Of
contrast to you, yknow. Now we're both
ornamental around the house. You look
like an orange padded tabouret, and 1 look
like a cross-section of an oil stove. Oh,
but were the lovely bunch!'' and he chuc-
Killed. gloomily.
Then he caught sight of himself in the
mirror over the mantel, and fell into a
chair and howled mirthlessly.
After several hours of pleading she in
duced him to sneak around to late-clos-
ing barber shop, where he had the Gimme
Hanback, mustache shipped off.
She cannot, in return, have her queer
bronze hair shaved close TO her head, but
he has her solemn promise, in typewriting.
that she will let the bronze wear off, never
in this life to be renewed
When that it-for-tat thing is tried in the
matrimonial relationship it's the man who
generally gets the worst of it.
e-