"Now, then, who'll be scissorized first?"
"I! I! I!" cried a chorus of voices.
"Can't do every one at once; come, Freddy, you're the commander-in-chief, suppose you set the example."
"Here goes, then!" exclaimed Freddy; and down he sat on the spring board.
Snip! went the long scissors, and off came a beautiful curl. Snap! more demolition on the other side, and in five minutes such a worn-out old scrubbing brush as his head looked like, never was seen anywhere, even on a Zouave; George, of course, running out his tongue so far at every snip of the scissors, that it was a mercy it didn't get cut off, too.
"FIRE AWAY OLD CHAP!"
"Jolly! what a fright you look!" shouted Peter. "I say Freddy, I expect you'll scare General Beauregard into the cholera the first time he sees you. Now, then, it's my turn; fire away old chap!"
My conscience! what hair cutting that was! Some parts were scratched nearly bald, while in others, little bunches of hair were left standing up like stubble in an autumn cornfield. Their heads looked as if they had been gnawed by the mice or dug up in spots by the roots; and I am sure their own mammas would scarcely have known them again.
"Come, number three's turn now!" exclaimed George, flourishing his scissors.