Japanese Barber (Continued from Page 7) Once over wasn't good enough. Instead the same process was repeated twice more until it gave my face a nude feeling. I had never been so clean in all my life and never had my face been quite so sore. The haircut that followed was not quite so extravagant as the shave, although it took a long, long while. I would just begin to think that the barber was finished when he would detect an uncut hair and pounce upon it like a cat on a mouse. After he had decided that not a single hair had been left untouched, he took a large bottle from the shelf and emptied half the contents onto my head. His fingers massaged my scalp until it felt as if my head had been put into a cement mixer. Water was then drawn into a basin near the bottom of the coal stove. Half blinded with soapsuds, I was, with the aid of the family, led to this container for the head bath. I was suddenly ducked and came up spluttering, quite upsetting the traditional politeness of my audience, the younger members of the Among Those Present George Craemer. Newcomer to Ogden. Works as railroad telegrapher. From Imperial Valley, California. "Craemer" is pen name. Doesn't like to go by his real one. Might be that he has a friend in Los Angeles (Badge No. 714) still looking for him. Has not yet decided on a major. Wanders here and there through curriculum. Thinks night classes much easier than day classes. Audri Montgomery. Also known as "Little Aud" or "Lou". Is freshman majoring in general, journalism, nursing (one each quarter). At Weber High was editor of trivia in News Notes. Is now editor of Signpost at Weber College. Lived most of young life "up in the mountains" in North Ogden. Wants to get the facts by marrying an F.B.I, man. Belongs to Sharmea social club. Favorite hobby "just goofing off." Favorite classes are "my free hours and noon hour." Tom Wardle. Is Scribulus editor this year mainly because does slick job at it. Prepared as grease monkey at Rulan's gassery, 27th and Grant. He is a native of Ogden and a graduate of Ogden High, where he spent a lot of time doing nothing and R.O.T.C. Heard the song "Strange Things Are Happening"? Tom showed up a week before "test week" with a broken "pen" hand. Could have used it as type hand on Scrib. Loves figures, hates math, has no plans. Says general is higher than a major anyway. Leonard Evans. A reb from Davis High. Majored in everything that would be of no value whatever in college. Saw the flags waving just after high, joined the Air Force. After military vacation with all expenses paid, registered here and has been one of us ever since. Ambition is to become a philosophical philanthropist with no work thrown in. Kitty Moore. "Bawn in Texas back in Thutty-five." Attended high schools in five different states, finally managed to graduate from Ogden High in '53. Was on the editorial staff of Ogden High's yearbook. Loves dogs, cats, Texas, people (especially male), Texas, baseball, and Texas. De Ette Matchan. Born in Redwing, Minnesota. Has also lived in Texas, South Carolina, Germany. A world traveler, has been in Rome, Mainz (Germany), even the U. S. Once made four trips through a champagne factory. Is a freshman this year, maybe next. Chuckles when she types. family laughing outright. Eventually I was led back to my chair and laid out to dry. During these odd moments, the barber re-appeared with his shears and made discoveries. Noticeable hairs in my nose and ears were done away with. Then from a sealed envelope he took a tiny bamboo splint curved like a spoon and another one with a small brush on the end of it. My ears were de-waxed, after which the brush polished the interiors. I was just thinking to myself that he must be nearly done when the chair was let down and I was given a complete massage. Except for this massage and the application of several sweet-smelling lotions, it was all over. My hair was combed and parted and then I caught my first glimpse of myself in the mirror. Not even my mother would have recognized me at the first look. "How much?", I asked a little fearfully, because of all the work that had been done. "Ten yen," the barber replied, obviously hoping that the price would be agreeable to me. I was very much surprised, as I thought such services would surely cost 100 yen. My shoes that I had taken off upon entering had been all polished. I felt as though I wouldn't need a shave or haircut for quite some time. And I was confident my ear passages were not blocked by even a shadow. It all made me feel good, although my face was sore for several days. And so, of one thing I am certain: the Japanese barber is really an "artist" I should know. DAY IS DONE Photo by Joyce Killpack. Twenty-eight THE COLLEGE INN SERVES YOU.