Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1929-04-25

house. At the eastern end Of the Whit
ney house Veranda is a barber shop
In the first chair of this shop its
proprietor laborS-spring, summer, aut-
umn, winter.
His name is Charles Fisk.
Charley Fisk has been our towns
head barber for twenty-eight of the
forty years of that shops existence
He has become a local character anc
his stand an institution. AS l sat anc
watched him trim the superfluous al
Ialfa from Uncle Joe Folders southern
exposure this afternoon while await
ing my turn in his chair, l took out
my pencil and figured if Charley has
"sllcked up" an average Of twenty
males a day, six days a week, for the
number of years he has piled his tools
in that shops front window, some
thing like n hundred and seventy
five thousand masculine exhibits have
climbed into that red-leathered swivel
in the guise of anarchists, to step down
later as civilized citizens.
Charley clipped and shaved me the
first week of my arrival in Paris tC
acquire a half interest in the towns
evening paper. He vas young in those
dayS-as young as I like to think ]
was, when I let myself consider it al
all. The paunch was not grown that
he now carries IN him; he was slen-
der, lean-faced, nervous in his move
ments. Jet black hair arose from q
well shaped head in a shock. His eyes
were laughing gray. He wore Of
the flowing brown mustacheS of the
period and the chin beneath it revealed
a deep dimple. He prided himself or
keeping up a running fire of sporting
talk with the younger element, yet
turning 'em out" faster than any
migratory journeyman.
He was unmarried then, yet frugal
and thrifty. And he had small inten-
tons of being only a barber" all his
life. He had bought the shop because
it had been for sale and owning il
assured him of steady employment
while counting Eva Bede-with whom
as Uncle Joe often phrased it, he was
blind staggers" in love. Eva was the
only daughter of old Aaron Bede, fol-
thirty years contractor and builder
throughout Paris county. Meanwhile
along with laying suit to Eva's heart
he was saving money and reading law
nights with Judge Amos Farmer.
Today the fellow who once aspireo
to become a great corporation attorney
is a square shouldered, podgy little mar
with iron gray hair combed over q
bald spot, frost on his eyebrows, thick
lensed spectacles that make his eyes
mere pin points, a ragged mustache
almost hiding his dimple, and pain ir
his feet where his arches have fallen.
He has long since given up trying te
turn EN- out" faster than his Journey
man; the talk in his shop is no longer
in character with the pink police peri
odicals that once cluttered his chair
seats, for invariably ladies are present
and sometimes small children. Trif-
ling bits of mountain locked gossip now
engage his attention. He is given tC
long, long moments of watching the
strangers who descend from the Whit
ney house bus, or mapping in the back
Of his shop with last nights copy of my
newspaper covering his head to thwart
the bluebottles.
Going back TO first causes, it was ar
accident that kept Charley a barber
all his life. And / never see an elder
ly man trudging about a swivel chair
shipping cowlicks and shaving turkey
necks, that l do not think of old mar
Fisk and wonder If there is a similar
dramatic episode hidden away in the
archives of all BARRIERS lives, making
them-as a lady editor once expressed
herself to me-so ordinary"
Eva Bede, as I remember her ovel
a quarter century ago, vas a willowy
brunette with flashing black eyes anC
a complexion S % exquisite it was whis.
pered she used rouge. Only actresse.
and ladies of scandal we're addicted t.
rouge at the period I mention. Blu
Eva did not use rouge. A supple CIR
Of superhealth, she taught the thirs
grade in the Union Street school ant
report had 1t she was willing to MARI,
Charley when he quit acting as thu