The combing of a superfluity of hair should not be done in public, when it will annoy others. The "Seven Sutherland Sisters" were in the habit of combing and dressing their hair in a shop window; the crowds of astonished gazers who congregated in front of the exposed toilet to admire the wondrous tresses of the ladies, obstructed the entrance to the store next door. The Court was appealed to and put a stop to the exhibition. (Elias v. Sutherland, 18 Abb. (N. Y.) C. Cas. 126.)

Chemists should be careful as to the kind of hair dye or wash they sell, husbands should be chary about buying such stuff for their wives, and women should trust to nature alone. In 1869 Joseph George went into the shop of Skivington, the chemist, who professed to sell a chemical compound made of ingredients known only to him, and which he represented to be fit and proper to be used for washing the hair, which could and might be used without personal injury to the person so using, and to have been carefully and skillfully and properly compounded by him, the said Skivington, the chemist; and Joseph George bought of Skivington, and Skivington sold to George at a certain price a bottle of the said compound to be used by George's wife Emma for washing her hair, as the chemist then knew, and on the terms that the same was fit and proper to be used, and could be safely used by her for the purpose aforesaid, without personal injury to her, and had been skilfully, carefully and properly compounded by the said chemist; yet the chemist had so unskilfully, negligently and improperly conducted himself in and about making and selling the said compound that by the mere unskilfulness, negligence and improper conduct of the chemist the said compound was not fit or proper to be used for washing the hair, nor could it be so used without personal injury to the person using the same; and by reason of all this Emma, who

used the said compound for washing her hair pursuant to the terms upon which the same was sold by the chemist, was by using the same injured in health, etc. Thus, Mr. and Mrs. George told their story when they sued the chemist, Skivington. Skivington said, in effect, "What if I did?" But Chief Baron Kelly and three other Barons, considered that there was a duty on the vendor Skivington to use ordinary care in compounding this wash for the hair and gave judgment for the Georges, holding that their declaration contained a good cause of action. (L. R. 5 Exch. 1.)

What the compound was we are not told, what it did we know not. But all legal students know what the effect of the Cyanochaitanthropopoion and the Tetaragmenon Abracadabra of the fashionable perfumer and perruquier of Bond street in turning the red hair of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse, by way of green and purple, into black; those who don't know will find the whole story in the report of the case by Sir Samuel Warren.

That great lawgiver of the far East, Manu, in his directions as to the choice of a wife, lays it down that a Hindoo of the upper classes must not marry a woman that has thick hair on her body, or one who has reddish hair, or one whose head has less or more than the usual quantity of locks. Another, Pundit, Vyasa, says that a man must not marry a girl who shows signs of an incipient beard, or whose eyebrows hang low, or who has too much hair.

Short hair has often been regarded as a symbol of chastity. Every Buddhist novice has to cut off his locks to prove that he is willing to give up the most beautiful and highly prized of his ornaments for the sake of a religious life; and in ancient Mexico both men and women who adopted such a life had their hair cut. In Sparta and Athens, as well as among the Anglo-Saxons, the newly married wife had her locks shorn. On the other hand one of the charges

against poor Joan of Arc was her cutting and wearing her hair short. The Apostle, her adversaries contended, had forbidden such a thing. She pleaded that she acted thus by the command of God; but the Canonists of the University of Paris decided that in wearing men's clothes and short hair, taking the sacrament while in them and asserting that God so commanded, she was blaspheming God, despising his sacraments, transgressing the Divine law, holy writ and canonical ordinances; that she, accordingly, savored ill in the faith, boasted vainly and was suspect of idolatry, and condemned herself in not. being willing to wear her sex's garments and in following the customs of the heathen and the Saracen.

Some such an idea of the wickedness of long locks must have influenced the Roundheads and their fellow Puritans..

The Council of Agde ordered the priests. to refuse absolution to any penitent who would not cut off his hair. The Council of Toledo decreed that "anyone desiring penance was first to be polled, then made to change his habit to sackcloth and ashes, and so admitted to penance."

Saint Ambrose, writing to a virgin, who had committed fornication bid her cut off her hair, which, through vain glory, had given her occasion to sin.

One of the primitive Christian customs on the occasion of a first marriage was the loosening or untying of the bride's hair.

In 1634 the General Court of Massachusetts enacted, inter alia, that if any man should judge the wearing of long hair to be uncomely or prejudicial to the common good and the party offending reformed not on notice given, then that the next assistant, being informed thereof, should have power to bind the party so offending to answer at the next Court, if the case so require. In 1649 Governor Endicott and the magistrates issued a declaration against men wearing long hair, prefaced by these words: "Foras

much as the wearing of long hair, aiter the manner of the ruffians and barbarous Indians, has begun to invade New England," and declaring "their dislike and detestation against wearing of such long hair as a thing uncivil and unmanly, whereby men do deform themselves and offend sober and modest men, and do corrupt good manners."

The records of the Bay Colony show that in 1676 thirty young men were presented"some for wearing silk, some for long hair and other extravagances."

Hair must not be used as an alarm clock. A divorce has been granted to a man because his wife pulled him out of bed by his whiskers; and in another case a poor husband was granted similar relief because his wife heaved a teapot at him and jerked out quite a quantity of his hair. (This latter was duly produced in court, filed and marked exhibit A.)

May the color of a woman's hair be legal ground for a divorce? And what is an improper red for a woman's head? These were the important questions that came up in a New York court not long ago.

Beards suggests barbers; originally thesemen were the assistants and dressers to the ecclesiastics when those godly men pract sed surgery; when, in 1163 the Council of Tours forbade any cleryman or monk to undertake any bloody operation, the art of surgery fell into the hands of the barbers and smiths -the latter were soon ousted by the former, and the barbers became so important that in 1461 the freemen of "The Mystery of Barbers, using the mystery or faculty of Surgery," obtained a charter from Edward IV., and were incorporated under the name of "The Company of Barbers in London," and none were allowed to practise the art except those admitted by the company. though this charter was several times amended by subsequent kings, yet side by side with the regular barber-surgeons there grew up a body of men who practised pure surgery, and

A

who actually formed a company called "The Surgeons of London." In 1540 by an act passed under his most gracious majesty, King Henry VIII., these rival companies were united and named "The Masters, or Governors, of the Mystery and Commonalty of the Barbers and Surgeons of London." The third section of this act provided that "no manner of person within the city of London, suburbs of the same and one mile compass of said city of London, after the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord God then next coming, using barbery or shaving within. the said city, etc., he nor they, nor none of them, to his, her, or their use, shall occupy any surgery, letting of blood or any other thing belonging to surgery, drawing of teeth only excepted; and furthermore, in like manner, whosoever that useth the mystery or craft of surgery, shall in no wise occupy nor exercise the feat or craft of barbery or shaving, neither by himself, nor by any other for him, to his or their use." In 1745 this union was dissolved.

In Scotland at an early day the barbers and the chirurgeons were united and enjoyed many rights and privileges; in 1505 the crafts of "Surregeury and Barbouris" were formed into a college or corporation by the town council of Edinburg and became one of the fourteen incorporated trades of the city. In Ireland the "Fraternity of Barbers and Chirurgeons of the Guild of S. Mary Magdalene" was incorporated by Henry II. The style of the barber's pole was fixed by statute in the olden time and still recalls the days when barbers lawfully drew blood; the spiral ribbons representing the two bandages used, the one twisted round the arm before bleeding, the other for binding afterwards. Lord Thurlow, speaking in the House of Lords in 1797, said that by a statute then in force barbers and surgeons were each to use a pole as a sign. The barbers were to have theirs blue and white, striped, with no other appendage; but the

surgeons, which was the same in other respects, was likewise to have a galley-pot and a red rag, to note the peculiar nature of their avocation.

In Rastell's Entries there is an interesting precedent of a declaration in an action on the case against a barber for having shaved a beard "inartificially": "R. S. nuper de N. attach fuit in respondendum H. B. de placito, quod cum idem R. ad barbam ipsius H. bene ct artificialiter сит novacula munda et salubri radere apud N. assumpsisset, predictus R. barbam ipsius H. cum quadam novacula immundi et insalubri tam negligenter et inartificialiter hasit, quod facies ipsius H. morbosa et scabiosa devenit ad damnum ipsius H. 40s ut dicitur."

When the Portugese admiral, Juan de Castro borrowed a thousand pistoles from the city of Goa, he left in pledge one of his whiskers, saying, "All the gold in the world cannot equal this natural ornament of my valor." We are not told whether the worthy captain ever returned to redeem his precious pledge, or how the city was satisfied with the security.

The ministers of the Church of Scotland in the seventeenth century used to enforce discipline on the unruly sons of the church by cutting the half of their hair or shaving their beards.

Lord Mansfield tried a man for assault, he was convicted; the Court thought imprisonment an unsuitable punishment under the circumstances; an affidavit was produced in which the offender stated he was wholly unable to pay a pecuniary fine. While this was being read the man stood proudly erect, his face adorned with enormous whiskers and mustaches, the pride of his heart, his boast in his cups. Mr. Dunning, for the prosecution, suggested to the judge that "as the prisoner had very fine moustachios and whiskers, perhaps his lordship would take the punishment out of these, and order him at once to be shaved."

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Ta recent bar dinner, in responding to the toast, "Stories of By-gone Days," Judge Edward Higbee of Schuyler County, Missouri, tendered this evidence:

This occurred in the days of the late Judge John W. Henry, then a jurist well advanced in years and fame. The yarn I will relate is a matter of record, but so as not to disturb the sleep of the dead, or occasion heart pangs to the living, some of the names used will be fictitious.

Way back in the seventies, Colonel John S. Wilson and Honorable Arthur Dabney were well-known lawyers of the then 27th judicial circuit. Wilson and Dabney possessed all the fire and enthusiasm that characterized the old-time barristers, and were generally on opposite sides of every important case. The colonel was tall, dignified and severe. Dabney was smaller and more active, but far less prepossessing. Outside the courtroom they were very good friends, but when in action the average spectator would be in momentary dread of bloodshed. On one occasion, however, there was a rupture between the two lawyers that extended outside, and for nearly a year they were not on speaking terms. Dabney was representing a man Comstock, who had something of a reputation as a Shylock, in a suit for rent against a delinquent tenant. When the time. came for arguments, Colonel Wilson felt justified in relating a little of Comstock's history from his personal knowledge.

He told of how the plaintiff had foreclosed a mortgage on a preacher and turned him out of house and home, with a sick wife and a half dozen or so small children. Nothing of the sort had been introduced in evidence, and everybody was astonished at Dabney for letting his opponent thus wander from the record.

The colonel, with eloquent verbal paint

brush, sketched a terrible picture of the sufferings of the preacher and his homeless flock, and the jury began to look vindictively at Comstock, who shifted in his seat and did his best to look unconcerned. The moneylender was beat when the colonel sat down, but Dabney had the close. He began by referring to the colonel's flagrant disregard of the record, but said his man had never committed an act in his life of which he was ashamed, and that he had nothing to conceal. Therefore, he had not objected to the opposing advocate's conduct except in one respect.

"My learned friend, Colonel Wilson, told you the truth, gentlemen-a part of the truth," said Dabney, with unusual impressiveness. "But he didn't go back far enough. Why didn't he tell you the reason Mr. Comstock foreclosed his mortgage on Parson Smith's home? Ah, gentlemen, he who hides a part of the truth is worse than he who misrepresents it all. It now becomes my painful duty to tell why Mr. Comstock exercised his legal rights in foreclosing that mortgage.

"You all know who occupies the place now (the jurymen tried to look as if they did, but not a one of them knew). The widow Dennis that noble, white-haired old mother of Israel, who was so foully dispossessed of it ten years ago by this same bogus preacher, Smith, in a swindling scheme by which he traded her some worthless Nebraska land that was fit only to raise rocks and blizzards on! That's what he did. For ten long years the widow Dennis and her little fatherless children toiled and suffered. And what did Comstock do? Why, he waited and waited and waited. At last the land swindler, the whited sepulchre of a preacher, the robber of the widow and orphans, needed money; he goes to Comstock-the despised money

shark, if you please. With his heart bleeding for the homeless widow, Comstock lets the reverend hypocrite have the money. The months roll by. The time for payment arrives.

He

"Comstock don't need the money, but the widow Dennis needs the home of which she has been so cruelly-so villainously deprived, if you please. Comstock tells Mr. Preacher man that he must put up or vacate. pleads for a renewal-this 'robber of the widow and the orphans.' Comstock is relentless. It is a poor, friendless woman against a great strong man, and Comstock-'the money-lender,' 'the note-shaver,' 'the userer,' as my friend Colonel Wilson would have it, takes the part of the woman in distress. The sanctimonious hypocrite is forced to leave, and the widow and her tattered children are restored to their own by this 'scheming trickster,' Comstock!

Find against him if you will, gentlemen; but I want you to remember this when you

go to your jury room to make up your verdict."

It is stated the jury was back inside of five minutes with a verdict for Comstock. They had accepted Wilson's story as true, and felt bound to accord the same respect to Dabney's sequel. As Dabney was leaving the courtroom, Judge Henry pulled him to one side and said:

"See here, both of you fellows ought to have been ashamed of yourselves for running off to the brush that way, but now that it's all over, I want you to tell me honestly, was that wind-up story of yours facts or pure imagination?"

The little lawyer's gray eyes twinkled, as they sought the ceiling, and the owner of them replied musingly:

"Your Honor, I've gone through the books pretty thoroughly, and I failed to find any rule directing a man to meet an argument outside of the record with facts."

T

HE name of a great man usually hangs like an ill-fitting garment upon a namesake. The personality of the original possessor has been so impressed upon it that he to whom it is subsequently given must be possessed of a robust individuality to escape the acting of a life-long masquerade.

Mr. Justice John Marshall Harlan began. life with such a name. The fact that undue emphasis is not laid upon his first two names is attributable to a mentality the virility of which is undiminished after more than a quarter of a century of service upon that Bench with which all of his names are now inseparably connected.

Justice Harlan was born in Boyle County,

WASHINGTON, D. C., APRIL, 1904. Kentucky, on the first day of June, 1833. His profession was an inheritance, the enjoyment of which was interrupted by the Civil War, in which he served his country, and by subsequent political aspirations which were never fully gratified. He was at one time Attorney General for his State, and, after being defeated in gubernatorial contests, he again took up his profession. Thereafter he followed, as a wise man, that legal star whose name he bears, and was led to that Court which sits at the feet of the Goddess of Liberty and watches over the law which is there given birth. On the tenth day of December, 1877, he took the oath of office which he now holds, and the reports of the