"Mr. Blackdeed, and you too, Mr. Crucible, you are both perfectly aware that such conversation is not to be tolerated in the club. I am surprised and grieved to be obliged to remind two such old members of our society of their duty, and in order to put a check upon such lamentable want of discipline, I condemn you Mr. Blackdeed to recite one of your own tragedies at full length, and you Mr. Crucible to be ready with a story when next called upon."
Both of the gentlemen addressed looked abashed, and muttered something in the shape of an apology. Having conscientiously discharged his duty, Mr. Oldstone re-settled himself on his chair, and the operation proceeded.
Master Suds was the first to endeavour to restore equanimity.
"A fine day, sir," he said, "for this time of the year."
"Humph!" grunted the antiquary, who was soaped up to the eyes, and was forced to keep his mouth shut to avoid having the lather rubbed down his throat.
"Yes, sir," continued the barber, "as you say, sir, it be fine weather surely, but it be still finer t'other side of the channel, à Paris; that is to say, where I have been staying for the last six months. Fine city Paris, sir, very. Mon Dieu, what streets! what shops! What a treat it be of a morning to rise early and take a promenade on the Bullyvards!"
"On the what?" inquired his customer.
"On the Bullyvards. Ah! I see, sir, you do not understand what that means. Well that is the name the French give to those streets as has trees a running alongside of 'em. Ah! sir, fine people the French, in their way—understand more of barber-craft than they do in this country. Why, an English barber who has never been out of his own country is quite an ignoramus alongside a French barber. But I could teach a trick or two to some of my countrymen in the line that would astonish them, having been over there long enough to get into the manners and customs of the natives. But I say, sir, what a nation they be for quarrelling amongst themselves, to be sure! There's this here revolution still going on. What it will all end in goodness only knows. What do you say, sir?"
"I don't know, and I don't care," replied Mr. Oldstone, irritably. "They may all go to——"
A fresh rub of the lather over his mouth prevented the antiquary from finishing his sentence. The pertinacious barber was not to be put down.