BELOW THE BELT

The announcer's patent-leather voice was gliding over the air-waves. He spoke in a voice that was hushed with respect. "Music by Chopin . . arranged by Liszt . . . played by Paderewski!" And then the Master began to let his fingers ripple up and down the keyboard with a technique and tone that captivated the countless thousands of Harvard men tuned in at the moment. But many a listener heard at one time or another during the program a slowly increasing buzz. Was the immortal Paderewski executing a deft tremolo with the lower tones? Was the discord a modernistic tone-poem? Was the piano out o tune? Most emphatically not! It was simply that certain unnamed but fuzzy-bearded individuals were engaged in peeling hair off their respected chins with (O shame of shames) electric razors!

It would be utterly useless to recommend the enactment of a parietal rule abolishing electric razors. The lobby of Messrs. Shick, Remington, Rand, and Sunbeam et al, would forestall that measure. Nor is it possible to require suppressors on all razors, for such regimentation is obviously impossible. Better to suppress the shavers themselves. Careful consideration, however, leads but to one conclusion; owners of electric razors must to all costs read their daily radio programs with great care. Let them learn when Paderewski, Artie Shaw, Bob Benchley, Bea Wain, Information Please, and other necessities of life are due; ten let them rap the daily harvest accordingly.