A gentleman of perhaps thirty-five years of age once called upon the
writer for advice relative to baldness, when he related the following
experience, permitting me to make a note of it at leisure.
"In 1865 my friends intimated to me that my hair was getting slightly thin
on the crown of my head. I have always had a mortal terror of being bald,
and daily examinations convinced me that my fears were about to be
realized. My first inquiry was for a remedy.
"'What shall I do to prevent its falling out?' I nervously inquired.
"'Get a bottle of Dr. ----'s Hair Restorative,' one advised; another, some
different preparation,--all advertised remedies,--till I had a list a yard
long of various washes, preventives, restorers, etc., _ad infinitum_.
"I obtained one of _the very best_. I used it as directed. It _stuck_ as
though its virtue consisted in sticking the loose hairs firmly to the
firmer-rooted ones. But alas! after a month's trial, sufficient hair had
come out of my head to make a respectable _chignon_!
"I next got some of Mrs. A. S. S. Allon's--or All--something; I forget the
rest of the name; I'm sure of the A. S. S., however,--and that was worse
than the _gum-stick-'em_ kind, for the hair came out faster than before.
"In despair, I applied to a 'respectable apothecary,' who keeps the next
corner drug store. 'For God's sake, Mr. Bilious, have you got any good
preventive for falling of the hair?' I exclaimed.
"'O, yes, just the article,' he replied, rubbing his palms vigorously. He
then showed me his stock, consisting of _thirty-nine different kinds_!
"'All very good--highly recommended,' he remarked, with commendable
impartiality.
"I selected one--with rather an ominous name, I
admit:--_Kat-hair-on_!--preferring cat's hair to none.
"I used the Kathairon according to directions."
"'Did the cat's hair grow?' I anxiously inquired.
"'Neither cat's hair nor human hair.' No. Worse and worse. I was about to
abandon all effort, when, stopping on a corner to get a young boot-black
to shine my boots, preparatory to making a call on a lady acquaintance,
before whom I was desirous of making a genteel appearance, a dirty, ragged
little urchin peered around the block, and exclaimed, 'O, mister, you're
barefooted on top o' yer head!' I had inadvertently removed my hat, to
wipe my forehead.
[Illustration: "BAREFOOTED ON THE TOP OF HIS HEAD."]
"This was the last feather. Though coming from but a dirty boot-black, it
stung me to the marrow. I kicked over the boy, box, blacking, and all, and
rushed into the nearest drug shop. I bought another new hair preparation.
Another ominous name--'_Bare-it_!'
"This I also used, as directed on the label, for a month. 'I think,' I
said, 'if I use it a second month, it will entirely _bare it_!'
"I bought a wig, and had my head shaved. I didn't lock myself up in a
coal-cellar, or hide under a tub, like Diogenes, but I felt that I would
have gladly done either, to hide myself from the eyes of the world. The
girls all cast shy glances at me as they passed; as though the majority of
_them_ did not wear false hair!
"In utter desperation, I visited a dermatologist. What a name to make hair
grow! Well, he examined my scalp with a microscope, and said the hair
could be made to grow anew. 'I discover myriads of germs, which only
require the right treatment in order to spring up in an exuberant crop of
wavy tresses.' I bought his preparations. Bill, thirty-eight dollars. They
were worthless.
"Soon after this failure, I heard of a new remedy--'a sure cure.' The
proprietor possessed a world-wide reputation, from the manufacture of
various other remedies for nearly all diseases to which we poor mortals
are subject, and there might be something in this. It was recommended to
cure baldness, and restore gray hair to its natural color. I would go and
see the proprietor of this excellent hair restorer. I hastened to Lowell.
I was ushered into the doctor's sanctum--into the very presence of this
Napoleon of medicine-makers, the Alexander of conquered worlds--of medical
prejudices!
"With hat in hand, I bowed low to the great Doctor Hair--or hair doctor.
He beheld my veneration for himself. With a practised eye, he noted my
genteel apparel. Flattered by my obeisance, and not to be outdone in
politeness, he arose, removed his tile, and bowed equally low in return to
my profound salutation, when lo! _O tempora! O mores!_ he was both bald
and gray! I retired without specifying the object of my visit."