"Your servant will not disturb the minutest pimple," said the barber.
With wonderful celerity, the artist went to work.
In less than two minutes the cranium of Mark Antony Figgins was as smooth and destitute of hair as a bladder of lard.
Then followed the process of shampooing, which was very soothing to the orphan's feelings.
At length, the operation being completed, the barber bade the orphan put on his hat—which from the loss of his hair went over his eyes and rested on his nose—and left the shop.
His friends—the mob and the dogs—had waited for him outside very patiently.
If his appearance had been interesting before, their interest was now greatly increased.
A loud shout welcomed him, and he proceeded along the street under difficulties, holding his hat in one hand, with the crowd at his heels.
Straight to the bazaar he went.
Here he found a venerable old Turkish Jew, who seemed to divine by instinct what he wanted.