“Very good,” answered Uncle Wiggily, politely. So along he hopped, to the barber shop, which he soon reached. Out in front was a red, white and blue-striped pole, like the rabbit gentleman’s rheumatism crutch, and inside the shop was the barber man, a little chap, not much larger than the bunny uncle himself.
“Shave? Hair cut? Shampoo? Massage? Manicure?” asked the barber, clicking his scissors.
“Just a shave and hair cut,” answered Uncle Wiggily, getting in the chair, while the barber tucked an apron under the bunny’s chin.
“Fine weather we’re having,” said the barber, as he began to cut Uncle Wiggily’s hairy fur.
“Very,” said Uncle Wiggily. “To-morrow is the first day of Spring, and that’s why I’m getting a hair cut, to be ready for warmer weather.”
“Good!” said the barber. Then, when he had Uncle Wiggily’s hair half cut, the barber stopped and began to mix up some soap suds lather in a cup.
“What are you doing?” asked Uncle Wiggily. “Why don’t you finish cutting my hair before you shave me?”
“Because my scissors are too dull. They would pull. I’ll send them to the scissors-to-grind man to be sharpened, and, while I’m waiting for them to come back I’ll shave you.”
So he began to shave the bunny uncle’s whiskers, talking all the while about the weather and what a hard Winter it had been, and how much carrots cost and all of that.
Then, all of a sudden, when Uncle Wiggily was half shaved, there was a whistling sound out in front of the barber shop, and a voice sang: