Schiller was a cattle trader by profession, and he made a lot of money.
He was incidentally a Jew by birth, an Austrian by accident, a
hairdresser by training, and a soldier of fortune when occasion offered.
He was quite illiterate.
Although he could neither read nor write he yet kept accurate enough
accounts of all his many transactions with the natives. He once showed
me his accounts. They consisted of notches on tally sticks. I couldn't
make head or tail of them, but Schiller knew to a shilling how much each
ox had cost him and how many cattle he had.
One Sunday morning he came over to my bungalow and told me all the
gossip of the country-side. Incidentally he remarked that my hair wanted
cutting, and asked if he might have the pleasure of operating.