“Your barber’s? I didn’t know you had one,” said Uncle Wiggily, sort of laughing. “I didn’t know you ladies had your hair cut.”
“We don’t,” spoke Mother Goose. “But this barber is one of the friends in my story book, you know, and I’d like to give him something to do. You must have heard of him.
“‘Barber, barber, shave a pig.
How many hairs will make a wig?
Four-and-twenty, that’s enough.
Give the barber a pinch of snuff.’”
“Oh, I’ve often heard of him!” said Uncle Wiggily. “But I haven’t a pinch of snuff to give him, and besides I don’t need a wig.”
“Oh, well, you don’t have to take a wig,” said Mother Goose. “As for the snuff, tell him I’ll send little Tommie Tucker down with it later.”
“Another thing,” spoke Uncle Wiggily. “If that barber of yours is shaving a pig I don’t believe he’ll have time to shave me.”
“Oh, that will be all right,” said Mother Goose, laughing. “He doesn’t really shave a pig. I just put ‘pig’ in to make it rhyme with ‘wig.’ Hop along now, and get shaved. The barber lives down the lane, with the little boy who was given the bag of wool from Baa-Baa, the black sheep.”