I know nothing better

Sunday, January 17th., Comarques, Thorpe-le-Soken.

Six hours uninterrupted sleep last night. I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked at the clock. Oddly, because I am not used to it I suppose, I felt more tired than usual this morning until I had a good wash. But I had more real energy. Barber's yesterday at Frinton. My chauffeur, Read, recommended it to me. He said it was smart and clean, but lacked things. He was half right! 

No antiseptic arrangements as far as I could see. Room cold. Man doing shaving. No greeting from the barber. Dirty apron and coat hanging up on the wall. Array of mugs with sponges. Place looked clean but wasn't. Thick dust on gas shades and many cobwebs. Chair too high, a modern chair which required a footstool. I commented on the height. The barber said, ""It's not high enough for me as it is. I always have to stoop." I asked if business was good? "No, very short season". A nice mild man, tall, badly shaven, baggy worn knees. But decent. No energy. Parted my hair on the wrong side, and badly. Shoved his sleeve in my eye. Didn't show me the back of my head. Doubtful towels. Indiarubber sponge. Price 10d. Apart from that, all went well! Be careful what recommendations you take!

May be potential for an article. I might describe Paris barbers, and insist on the inferiority of English barbers, with general reference to slackness and efficiency. That sort of thing is calculated to cause a bit of a stir.

I finished the third act of "Don Juan"n Friday night after fairly huge labours. I have read a little in John Mitchell's "Jail Journal". It is a good browsing book. Much of the nalysis and self-description is tedious. It could be usefully cut down and made manageable.

Lastly, Conrad's "Chance" came today and I have already read 150 pp. This is a discouraging book for a writer, because he damn well knows he can't write as well as this. The episode of the arrival of the news of de Barral's bankruptcy at his house in Hove, where his daughter and her superb friend of a governess are living is simply sublime. I know nothing better than this, and precious little as good.