His manner of using the razor showed him to be a perfect stranger to the rules of civilization. The weapon made a most bloodcurdling sound, when scraping across my cheek. As it came to the tuft of hair by the ear, the artery almost snapped. About the chin, it sported itself making a noise as of somebody crunching the frost raised ground. The most dreadful part of the story was that this barber considered himself the most skilful tonsor in the land.
Lastly, the man was well loaded with something of fairly strong flavour. Every time he said Danna, a smell accompanied the word and a gust of highly-charged gas attacked my nose. At this rate there was no telling when or where his razor might make a jaunt of its own. The man using it having no definite plan to guide him, it was impossible that I, who placed my head in his custody, should have any idea of it. I should not grumble as my head was in his hands as part of a legitimate understanding. But what, if he should change his mind and set about cutting my throat?
“It is only fellows who are not sure of their hand that use soap. But it cannot be helped, perhaps, in your case, because you are too hairy, Danna.” So protesting my man put the soap back to the shelf; but disobeying his wish, it fell to the clay floor.
“I don’t think I have seen much of you around here, Danna. You have come here lately?”
“Why, yes, I came here, only a few days ago.”
“Is that so? Where are you stopping?”
“At Shiota Hotel.”
“You are a guest at Shiota, are you? That was what I thought. To tell you the truth I came here looking for help from the old gentleman of Shiota. I used to know him, located near him as I was, while he lived in Tokyo. He is a fine old man, knowing what is what. He lost his wife last year, and he now passes most of his time in toying with his curios and things. He is said to have great things, which would bring in a good little fortune if sold.”
“Has he not got a pretty daughter?”
“Look out, there!”
“What for?”
“Why? You may not know it, but she is a divorcee.”
“So, eh?”
“You don’t seem to make much of it, Danna; but it was an affair. It was not at all necessary that she should take a divorce. … The bank busted and she left her husband, because she could no longer go in for a high living. She may be all right, as long as the old man is there; but if anything should happen to him, she would be lost in the sea.”
“You think so?”
“Of course I do, and she and her elder brother, who is now the head of the family are no friends at all.”
“The head of the family?”
“Yes, the old man is retired, and family affairs are in the charge of his son, who lives upon the hill. It is a fine place he lives in, with a most beautiful view. You should have a look at it.”
“Oh, say give me another coat of soap. It is hurting again.”
“Your skin must be very soft. It is because your beard is too tough. You must have a shave at least once in three days. If my shave hurts you, you can’t stand it anywhere else.”
“I shall do so in future. Or I may have it every day.”
“You are going to stay so long? Do you know that you are running a risk? I should say, don’t. No good will come out of it. You don’t know what trouble you will bring upon yourself by getting tangled up in a silly affair.”
“Why?”
“Ah, Danna, that woman is pretty to look at; but you must know that she is not right in the head.”
“Why?”
“Why? The villagers all say she is crazy.”
“There must be some mistake about that.”
“No, we have a proof that it is not. Don’t, Danna, it is risky.”
“I am perfectly safe. What kind of proof do you have?”
“Well, it is a queer affair. Light a cigarette and take your time, and I shall tell. … Will you have a shampoo?”
“No thanks.”
“Let me then shake off the dandruff a little.”
The barber put his ten fingers, which ended in well grown nails, loaded with goodly deposits of dirt, upon my cranium, and set them in motion most violently, forward and backward. The formidable nails ploughed the root of each hair in my head like a rake in the hand of a giant combing a field of wild grass with the power and swiftness of a hurricane. I do not know how many hundreds of thousands of hair there are in my head; I only felt that every one of my capillary growth was being uprooted, leaving the skin in wales, in addition to making the skull and the grey matter of brains vibrate most violently. So strongly did the man rummage my head.
“How do you feel, now? Wasn’t that good?”
“You went at it pretty lively.”
“Eh? Everybody feels clear in head after my scrub.”
“I feel as if my head is dropping away.”
“You are feeling so tired? It is the weather does it. Spring makes you feel lazy. Have a smoke. You must feel lonesome, Danna, stopping alone at Shiota? You must drop in
