The Texan Star | Page 8

wrong with his physical system. You have lost many
pounds, and if this keeps on I do not know what will happen to you. I
shall not ask for more liberty for you, but you must have a doctor at
once."
"I do not want any doctor, Uncle Steve," said the boy. "He cannot do
me any good, but there is somebody else whom I want."
"Who is he?"
"A barber."
"A barber! Now what good can a barber do you?"
"A great deal. What I crave most in the world is a hair-cut, and only a
barber can do that for me. My hair has been growing for more than
three months, Uncle Steve, and you've seen how extremely thick it is.
Now it is so long, too, that it's falling all about my eyes. Its weight is
oppressing my brain. I feel a little touch of fever now and then, and I
believe it's this awful hair."
He ran his fingers through the heavy locks until his head seemed to be
surrounded with a defense like the quills of a porcupine. Beneath the

great bush of hair his gray eyes glowed in a pale, thin face.
"There is a lot of it," said Mr. Austin, surveying him critically, "but it is
not usual for anybody in our situation to be worrying about the length
and abundance of his hair."
"I'm sure I'd be a lot better if I could get it cut close."
"Well, well, if you are taking it so much to heart we'll see what can be
done. You are ill and wasted, Edward, and when one is in that
condition a little thing can affect his spirits. De Zavala is a friendly sort
of young fellow and through him we will send a request to Colonel
Sandoval, the commander of the prisons, that you be allowed to have
your hair cut."
"If you please, Uncle Steve," said Ned gratefully.
Mr. Austin was not wrong in his forecast about Lieutenant de Zavala.
He showed a full measure of sympathy. Hence a petition to Colonel
Martin Sandoval y Dominguez, commander of prisons in the City of
Mexico, was drawn up in due form. It stated that one Edward Fulton, a
Texan of tender years, now in detention at the capital, was suffering
from the excessive growth of hair upon his head. The weight and
thickness of said hair had heated his brain and destroyed his appetite. In
ordinary cases of physical decline a physician was needed most, but so
far as young Edward Fulton was concerned, a barber could render the
greatest service.
The petition, duly endorsed and stamped, was forwarded to Colonel
Martin Sandoval y Dominguez, and, after being gravely considered by
him in the manner befitting a Mexican officer of high rank and pure
Spanish descent, received approval. Then he chose among the barbers
one Joaquin Menendez, a dark fellow who was not of pure Spanish
descent, and sent him to the prison with de Zavala to accomplish the
needed task.
"I hope you will be happy now, Edward," said Mr. Austin, when the
two Mexicans came. "You are a good boy, but it seems to me that you

have been making an undue fuss about your hair."
"I'm quite sure I shall recover fast," said Ned.
It was hard for him to hide his happiness from the others. He felt a thrill
of joy every time the steel of the scissors clicked together and a lock of
hair fell to the floor. But Joaquin Menendez, the barber, had a Southern
temperament and the soul of an artist. It pained him to shear
away--"shear away" alone described it--such magnificent hair. It was so
thick, so long and so glossy.
"Ah," he said, laying some of the clipped locks across his hand and
surveying them sorrowfully, "so great is the pity! What señorita could
resist the young señor if these were still growing upon his head!"
"You cut that hair," said Ned with a vicious snap of his teeth, "and cut
it close, so close that it will look like the shaven face of a man. I think
you will find it so stated in the conditions if you will look at the permit
approved in his own handwriting by Colonel Sandoval y Dominguez."
Joaquin Menendez, still the artist, but obedient to the law, heaved a
deep sigh, and proceeded with his sad task. Lock by lock the abundant
hair fell, until Ned's head stood forth in the shaven likeness of a man's
face that he had wished.
"I must tell you," said Mr. Austin, "that it does not become you, but I
hope you are satisfied."
"I am satisfied," replied Ned. "I have every cause to be. I know I shall
have a stronger appetite to-morrow."
"You