Throughout this period whiskers remained in disfavour with all men of fashion, though they lingered on among the elderly and the middle-aged. Pianists, artists and literary geniuses still wore their hair long. The value of a beard in correcting an imperfect profile was admirably illustrated in Du Maurier's picture of the complacent Admiral in 1894, and naval officers, then and now, availed themselves of a privilege denied to the other Service, without any loss of trimness and smartness of appearance. The "toothbrush" moustache dates back to pre-War days, and its popularity was not impaired when early in 1914 the General commanding the Prussian Guards Corps forbade its adoption as "not consonant with the German national character." Waxed ends to the moustache were now only worn by policemen, taxi-drivers and Labour leaders. But the outstanding feature of male _coiffure_ during the latter part of this period was the adoption of the practice of liberally oiling or pomading the hair and brushing it right back over the head without any parting. Whence the practice came I do not know, but it became almost universal amongst "nuts," undergraduates and the senior boys at our public schools. _Punch_ did not admire the fashion, but it must have been a gold mine to all dealers in bear's grease, brilliantine, Macassar's "incomparable oil," and all manner of unguents simple or synthetic. [Sidenote: _Revival of Crinoline Threatened_] _Punch's_ chronicle of feminine fashion opens in 1893 with the menace of a return of the crinoline, the bare mention of which was enough to upset his equanimity, for his seven years' war against it had by his own admission been more or less of a failure:-- CRINOLINE Rumour whispers, so we glean From the papers, there have been Thoughts of bringing on the scene This mad, monstrous, metal screen, Hiding woman's graceful mien. Better Jewish gaberdine Than, thus swelled out, satin's sheen! Vilest garment ever seen! Form unknown in things terrene; Even monsters pliocene Were not so ill-shaped, I ween. Women wearing this machine, Were they fat or were they lean-- Small as Wordsworth's celandine, Large as sail that's called lateen-- Simply swept the pavement clean: Hapless man was crushed between Flat as any tinned sardine. Thing to rouse a Bishop's spleen, Make a Canon or a Dean Speak in language not serene. We must all be very green, And our senses not too keen, If we can't say what we mean, Write in paper, magazine, Send petitions to the Queen, Get the House to intervene. Paris fashion's transmarine-- Let us stop by quarantine Catastrophic Crinoline! [Illustration: FASHION "Oh, Mummy, have you been vaccinated on _both_ arms?"]