"'How long since he--since it occurred?' I asked. "'About an hour, I guess,' says the old man. I was glad of that because corpses always shave better before they get good and cold. I went in the room and turned up the lamp. The man was laid out on the bed. He was warm yet and he had about a week's growth of beard on. I got to work and in half an hour I had given him a nice clean shave that would have done his heart good if he had been alive. Then I went downstairs and saw the old man. "'What success?' he asked. "'Good,' says I. 'He's fixed up all right. Who's to pay?' "'He gave me $30 to send his folks in Alabama yesterday,' says the old man. 'I guess your fee will have to come out of it.' "'It'll be five,' I said. "The old man handed me a five dollar bill and I went home very well satisfied." Here the barber seized the chair, hurled it upright, snatched off the cloth, buried his hands in the Post Man's hair and tore out a handful, bumped and thumped his head, shook it violently and hissed sarcastically: "Bay rum?" The Post Man nodded stupidly, closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to recall a prayer. "Next day," said the barber, "I heard some news. It seems that a man had died at 1908 Piney Street and just a little while before a man in the next house had taken poison. The folks in one house sent for a doctor and the ones in the other sent for a barber. The funny part is the doctor and I both made a mistake and got into the wrong house. He went in to see the dead man and found the family doctor just getting ready to leave. The doctor didn't waste any time asking questions, but got out his stomach pump, stuck it into the dead man and went to work pumping the poison out. All this time I was busy shaving the man who had taken poison. And the funniest part of it all is that after the doctor had pumped all the other doctor's medicine out of the dead man, he opened his eyes, raised up in bed and asked for a steak and potatoes. "This made the family doctor mad, and he and the doctor with a stomach pump got into a fight and fell down the stairs and broke the hat rack all to pieces." "And how about your man who had taken poison?" asked the Post Man timidly. "Him?" said the barber, "why he died, of course, but he died with one of the beautifulest shaves that ever a man had.--Brush!" An African of terrible aspect bore down upon the Post Man, struck him violently with the stub of a whisk broom, seized his coat at the back and ripped it loose from its collar. "Call again," growled the barber in a voice of the deepest menace, as the scribe made a rush for the door and escaped. (_Houston Daily Post_, Sunday morning, May 31, 1896.) Barbershop Adventure When the Post Man entered the shop yesterday the chairs were full of customers, and for a brief moment he felt a thrill of hope that he might escape, but the barber's eye, deadly and gloomy fixed itself upon him.