Cupido is a regular busybody and you can get all the latest news in his barbershop.
His dignity as a party leader forbade his entering that barbershop where the walls were papered with copies of "Revolution" and where a picture of Pi y Margall reigned in place of the King's.
Twice he walked up and down in front of the striped window-panes of the barbershop, without mustering the courage to raise the latch.
Every weakness, every foible of the city's celebrities was made public by him in his barbershop, to the delight of the Opposition, whose members gathered there to read their party organ.
The gentlemen of the Ayuntamiento feared the barber more than any ten newspapers combined, and whenever some famous Conservative minister referred in parliament to a "revolutionary hydra" or a "hotbed of anarchy," they pictured to themselves a barbershop like that of Cupido, but much larger perhaps, scattering a poisonous atmosphere of cruel gibe and perverse effrontery all through the nation.
One day ex-president Taft, then Secretary of War, and Congressman Longworth sallied into a barbershop.