ABSTRACT
There was at this time in Boston a learned barber, William Bogle by name. He had a store in front of his workroom, and in it perfumery and cosmetics were sold. The place had a conspicuous position on the east side of Washington street, perhaps half way between Milk and Summer streets, and here Mr. Bogle also dispensed a hair dressing, known as Hyperion Fluid. The barber was, as I have said, a scholarly man. The fact is testified to by records that show him to have been an active member, and at one time president, of a Boston literary club, known as the Burns Society. His manner was dignity personified. He was courteous, but very susceptible to annoyances; and under favoring conditions irascible. Nothing would sooner excite his scholarly criticism than the mispronunciation of a word; more particularly if that word, as was not infrequently the case, happened to be his own name. Horace Dodd used to tell of a wag who had met the barber at the literary club, and learned something of his peculiarities; who one day made his way to the shop where a conversation took place about as follows:
