Beauty
parlours have always been for the Swell Dames and the theatre ladies, who
pink up, while their gents hump to pay the bill. You ought always take one
paper home, and _read_ it, so you know what's going on in the world. Now
from what I've read, I know that the get-a-way of the beauty parlours is
cold cream. And one of the show ladies the boys are always wild over told
the papers long ago 'bout how she used icicles on her face to pink it up.
Now if you'd a-knowed this like you should, the minute you clapped your
peepers on that, 'Chasing Wrinkles,' you'd a-knowed where your laugh came
in today, like I've told you over and over you _must_ get it. Bet Chaffner
put that there on purpose for me. Which same gives me an idea. You been
calling the Hoc de Geezer war, and the light-weight champeen of Mexico,
and 'the psychological panic' something fine; but did you sell out on
them? Not on your topknot! You lost your load on the scream. _Get the joke
of life soaked in your system good_. On this, you make yourself see the
plutes, and the magnates, and the city officials leaving their jobs, and
hiking to the beauty parlours, to beat the dames at their daily stunt of
being creamed and icicled and--it's funny! When it's so funny to you that
you just howl about it, why it's catching! Didn't you see me catch them
with it? Now go on and do it again, and get the _scream_ in.
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