Saturday Snippet: That There Advert, It’s a Right Hoot

Today's Saturday Snippet is taken from

Mail-Order Barber

Mail-Order Husbands-Hopeful Husbands, Book 29

by Zina Abbott 

 

... “Excuse me, sir, but do you mind if I take a quick look at your newspaper?”

          The man spun around and eyed Baird like he was something found at the bottom of a trash barrel. “Not finished with it yet.”

          “I’m not asking to have it. If you don’t mind, I’d like to read a few headlines to see if it would be worthwhile to buy my own copy.” Baird pushed his spectacles higher on his nose.

          The man’s gaze shifted from Baird’s eyeglasses, to the shirt he wore that needed a good scrubbing, to the glass of sarsaparilla. “Yeah, you can take a look-see until I’m ready to go. Just make sure you don’t walk off with it.”

          “Thanks.” Baird picked up the newssheet and began to peruse the headlines. Like most editions he’d read, the advertisements were intermingled among the articles—as if the editor used them to fill the empty spaces in each column. He turned the paper to the inside pages and then took another sip of the drink that reminded him of licorice and managed to be both sweet and bitter at the same time.

          “Look for the advert for a barber to take over a shop. Too high an asking price, as far as I’m concerned.” The man on the opposite side of Baird chuckled as he tapped the paper. Then he lifted a full glass of beer to his lips.

          Annoyed about the man possibly tearing or wrinkling the borrowed newspaper—which might cause trouble with the owner—Baird turned toward him with a furrowed brow. Then the words struck his awareness. Barber to take over a shop? “What do you mean, too high of a price?”

          “What I said.” The man drank another swig of his beer. “From what I recollect, a barber up in Columbia got himself killed about a month ago. My guess is, the advert is by the widow looking for a new husband.” He turned to look Baird full in the face. “You remember that? It was all the talk for a week or so. Wasn’t even his fight. Now, I could understand someone trying to hold the gent up while he still had his deposit on him. But, he was walking home from the assay office and the bank when he got caught in the crossfire.”

          “First I’ve heard about it. I don’t get to town all that often.” Baird turned his gaze back to the page. “Now she’s advertising for a new husband?” He began to focus on the smaller advertisements, the ones that looked like personals.

          “Yep. Got to be able to cut hair, though. Either that, or if a man’s a silver-tongued devil, maybe he can convince her she don’t need a barber to remarry. Me, I don’t like the parts about it being a marriage of convenience and her already having a brat.”

          “Most widows do already have a child or two.” As he searched, Baird tamped down his annoyance at the man’s self-serving attitude. He finally found it at the bottom of the second page. He read it twice. “Reputable widow with child…” He wondered how old the child was. For that matter, how old was the widow? She could be twenty-five, or she could be forty. “…marriage of convenience to last up to ten years…” He blinked. That is enough to make a man pause.

          Like many men who had not allowed their character and sense of morals to sink to that less than most animals, if Baird ever did wed, he preferred a fully committed marriage with a family-minded wife—not one who planned to end things within a matter of years.

          Baird continued reading. “…must be willing to train widow’s son to someday take over his father’s barber business.” He shook his head. If there was any part of that advertisement designed to make the entire prospect unappealing, that was it. Why on earth would any man wish to work at a business he did not own—would not even eventually own—in order to train someone’s son to one day take over?

          “That there advert, it’s a right hoot, ain’t it?” The saloon patron on Baird’s right offered another chuckle. “New widow or not, can’t believe some woman was addlebrained enough to put out an offer like that.”

          Baird turned in time to see the man shake his head as he lifted his beer glass to his lips. “I don’t know that she is the one who placed the advertisement in the newspaper. It ends with 'Interested parties please respond to M. Delaney, Esq., Columbia Post Office.' Isn’t e-s-q short for esquire, the title lawyers call themselves by?”

          The beer-drinker shrugged. “Don’t know. Never had no use for the likes.”

          The thought did prompt Baird to consider the advertisement in a new light. Whoever this woman was, she was being guided by an attorney. He again read the requirements—including the specific manner of man—she sought for the marriage of convenience. “…an experienced barber in exchange for his use of established barber shop, equipment, and living quarters.” He leaned back and wiped his palm across his mouth. I qualify.

 

My most recent release, Mail Order Barber,  is the final book in the Hopeful Husband's series. It is currently available as an ebook for purchase or at no additional cost with a Kindle Unlimited subscription. To find the book description and purchase options, please CLICK HERE

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Hal's Lucky Escape is now available for sale as an ebook or at no additional cost with a Kindle Unlimited subscription. To find the book description and purchase options, please CLICK HERE

 

 

 

 

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