“Thank you,” sitting down; “and now, pray, explain that about the broker. But look, look—what’s this?” suddenly rising, and pointing, with his long pipe, towards a gilt notification swinging among colored fly-papers from the ceiling, like a tavern sign, “No Trust?” “No trust means distrust; distrust means no confidence. Barber,” turning upon him excitedly, “what fell suspiciousness prompts this scandalous confession? My life!” stamping his foot, “if but to tell a dog that you have no confidence in him be matter for affront to the dog, what an insult to take that way the whole haughty race of man by the beard! By my heart, sir! but at least you are valiant; backing the spleen of Thersites with the pluck of Agamemnon.”
“Your sort of talk, sir, is not exactly in my line,” said the barber, rather ruefully, being now again hopeless of his customer, and not without return of uneasiness; “not in my line, sir,” he emphatically repeated.
“But the taking of mankind by the nose is; a habit, barber, which I sadly fear has insensibly bred in you a disrespect for man. For how, indeed, may respectful conceptions of him coexist with the perpetual habit of taking him by the nose? But, tell me, though I, too, clearly see the import of your notification, I do not, as yet, perceive the object. What is it?”
“Now you speak a little in my line, sir,” said the barber, not unrelieved at this return to plain talk; “that notification I find very useful, sparing me much work which would not pay. Yes, I lost a good deal, off and on, before putting that up,” gratefully glancing towards it.
“But what is its object? Surely, you don’t mean to say, in so many words, that you have no confidence? For instance, now,” flinging aside his neck-cloth, throwing back his blouse, and reseating himself on the tonsorial throne, at sight of which proceeding the barber mechanically filled a cup with hot water from a copper vessel over a spirit-lamp, “for instance, now, suppose I say to you, ‘Barber, my dear barber, unhappily I have no small change by me to-night, but shave me, and depend upon your money to-morrow’—suppose I should say that now, you would put trust in me, wouldn’t you? You would have confidence?”
“Seeing that it is you, sir,” with complaisance replied the barber, now mixing the lather, “seeing that it is you sir, I won’t answer that question. No need to.”
“Of course, of course—in that view. But, as a supposition—you would have confidence in me, wouldn’t you?”
“Why—yes, yes.”
“Then why that sign?”
“Ah, sir, all people ain’t like you,” was the smooth reply, at the same time, as if smoothly to close the debate, beginning smoothly to apply the lather, which operation, however, was, by a motion, protested against by the subject, but only out of a desire to rejoin, which was done in these words: