Classic Poem

B ALLINGTON S CHULTZ was a barber,
Loftily proud of his art,
But beneath his white coat it is worthy of note
That Ballington Schultz had a heart.

Ballington Schultz loved his razors,
His clippers, his combs and his shears,
But far and above was his passionate love
For the beautiful Barbara Beers.

Daily with doglike devotion
He worshiped the maid from afar
As she rode by his shop, never deigning to stop
In her handsome new high-powered car.

He gazed at her fervently, fondly,
As he snipped off some customer's ears,
Or put soap in his eye while with amorous sigh
He would dream of his love for Miss Beers.

" O maiden more fragrant than bay rum,
O Barbara, say I dare hope.
Thy maidenly blushes I love more than brushes,
Than towels or talcum or soap! "

One morning, oh, rapturous morning,
The fragrance of spring filled the air,
She drove to his store and she entered the door
And sat down in poor Ballington's chair.

" O maiden more lovely than talcum, "
He sighed as he gazed at her hair,
" Oh, hear my avowal there ne'er was hot towel
As warm as the love that I bear!

" Oh, I've loved you since I was a shaver,
Pray marry me, Barbara Beers. "
But the maiden just said as she leaned back her head:
" Don't trim it too close at the ears. "

Now though Ballington Schultz was a lover,
As I may have remarked at the start,
He could not put aside his tonsorial pride;
He was loftily proud of his art.

So he eagerly reached for his clippers,
And he ardently reached for his shears,
And he bobbed and he shingled with art that was mingled
With love and the passion of years.

He wooed her with ointments and lotions,
He wooed her with unguents and cream.
To show how he craved her, he lathered and shaved her,
The maid was too frightened to scream.

He wooed her with scissors and clippers,
Poor Schultz was near crazy with bliss.
Each clip at her tresses was filled with caresses,
Each snip of his clipper a kiss.

He bathed her and swathed her in towels,
He washed her and sloshed her with suds.
His passion Byronic he pleaded with tonic,
With facial massages and muds.

He bathed her and swathed her in towels,
He tried everything in his shop,
Then his love and his passion he told in this fashion:
" Your hair's getting thin on the top. "

Then at last when the job was completed
And Miss Beers took one look at her hair,
In a voice faint and weak she just uttered a shriek
And she fainted away in the chair.

She was bald as a Mexican spaniel!
She was bald as the eagle, so called!
She was hairless and shorn as a babe newly born,
She was bald — indescribably bald.


Poor Ballington still is a barber,
But he finds little joy in his art,
For beneath his white coat, it is tragic to note,
Beats a battered and bruised broken heart.