Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-02-20

went to the National Theater in those
! days more TO hear that orchestra thah
| to see the stars--I must tell you this.
| Don't try to stop me. May Ellen. the
| lady doesn't mind. do you, dear?
The lady--otherwise the woman at
! the desk--expressed unbounded inter
! est:
"As | was saying. | had slrl
friend named Amelia-a brilliant and
very Jealous Christian. but who fran
tically loved to dance--and one night.
while attending a church mission she
dreamed that Judgment day had
come, with the dear Lord personally
consigning souls either to the sky or
into a deep black we'll below. She
had been condemned to the abyss or
punishment and was so terrified that
the good Lord was about to relent,
when voice called up from the
depths:
"'Come along, Amelia-we've got
Wither's Band down here.
And Amelia. dear, sweet. good lit
tie Amelia--dead these many years
was so rejoiced, in her dream. that
she curtsied to the good Lord who
was Offering her eternal salvation.
with:
Never mind, dear Father, I'd just
as lief go down below-we'n have
Wither's Band to dance to- All, my
dear. Washington may think itself far
superior to the old days when it was
only small town, with muddy streets
and cross-sweepers and horse cars
but-when / recall the dear gone days
when Wither's Band was a delight to
everybody. and realize that | am prop
ably the only resident alive to remem-
Der limit makes me sad. my dear
A,11 bnp ,Ir,x tnta d n
instructions as to reaching the prob
able grandson of the most wonderful
band leader. ever--never mind about
Sousa-or Santelmann-with the mid
dle-aged granddaughter in her role as
walking stick and guide.
A NEWS sauib let's US on to the
thrilling fact that 1.-The shaving
mug social register still exists in one
barber shop in Missouri, whose pro
prietor claims the largest collection of
gilt-edged cups to be found in the
whole State" a claim which isn't
a patch on US BARRIERS of Washington
d. G.
Why. a big feature in one local
shop is glass cabinet of classy mugs
used in the 7Os by we'll known patrons
before the safety razor ruined that
line of trade. Each mug is a story.
And each story is lather of history.
politics or romance that bubbles to
the brinl-and all of them are treas
ured as so many mileposts of the past.
Another barber. in another shop. owns
a mug that was once the exclusive
property of Allison Nailor, who, ira
ditiOn tells us. owned a most tremen-
dously beautiful black mustache. One
time he discarded a compliment from
his tonsorial artist--only they called
them BARRIERS then.
What difference does it make?-
I'll be leaving soon, and who will ever
give a thought to Allison Nailor. or
what he looked like" And, as he
told his small incident, the barber
now retired to little home of his
own-remarked with a feeling that
would touch even the shade of ALI
son. allowing it to be round:
81 have never seen a mustache to
equal it for color or style. Why, I
can see him now. ma'am, flashing
down the Avenue between that pair
Of milk-white horses that nobody ever
saw the like of-with his mustache as
perfect as when he came out of my
chair-a gay man Of the world, ma am,
but loyal to the core of his heart.
and the finest mustache I ever saw"
Incidentally, since women have
been invading barber shops, the old
trade has developed into something
new and "Sculptors of
Hair and "Beauticianers' have run
the old-time barber out OF business
put the tonsorial artist in his place,
and elevated the once shop into a
tonsorial parlor. But sentiment is in
delible-at least in the case of one
barber-man. who recalls with aprecia-
ton a once gay man of the world
with the finest mustache I ever saw"
and who was loyal to his hearts
core.
1t is a comforting thing to be re-
membered through dust-covered years.