I stepped to the glass and wiping the cipher off, made a 5 in its place. Our customer quickly asked what that meant. I replied: "That means that this shop has changed hands, and from this time on, prices on all work done here will be sufficient to warrant success." He jumped to his feet, declaring that he would not allow any man to come such a game on him, and that he'd never pay fifteen cents for a shave. He left the shop in high dudgeon, and the barber declared I'd ruin the business in less than ten days. I kept the price up, however, and after hiring a man to run it, made it a paying investment. A few months later I sold out to the man who now runs it. About a week after my experience in the barber shop, my horses and carriage had been driven around in front of my place of business, and myself and wife were about to take a drive. Two or three acquaintances happened along, and we conversed with them for a few moments before driving away. I noticed my late victim standing on the sidewalk staring at me with all the eyes he had. We drove away, leaving him still staring. Not long after this, one of these friends just referred to came to my office, and asked if I had anything to do with a barber shop at Woodlawn Park. With apparent surprise, I asked the meaning of the inquiry. He said the day we went out for a drive a strange gentleman stepped up to him and asked what that man's name was, and what he was doing with such a team. My friend answered, "Why, that is Johnston, the wholesale jeweler, and he owns that team." "Wholesale nothing!" was the reply. "He is the barber at Woodlawn, or thinks he is, at least, and I'll bet he never owned a dog, to say nothing of a team like that." He was assured that he was mistaken. He became excited, and offered to bet any amount that that fellow was the barber at Woodlawn, and he guessed he knew what he was talking about, and that he would know that fellow among a million. * * * * *