And barbers will soon have to work the treadmill,
If their razors are brought to a daily stand still.
For now, with its works nearly hid from our view,
In the very same chair in which we must sit too,
While a music-box plays like a musical elf,
The High-Mettled Razor doth shave us itself!
WHYS FOR THE WISE.
Why cannot a "Constant Reader" write a letter to a newspaper without an allusion to its "widely circulated columns?"
Why can a young gentleman never take to yachting without strengthening his language with "fo'ksle" expletives?