atch one another suspiciously,
after the manner of Britons. The first, who is elderly,
removes his hat and displays an abundance of strong grizzled
hair, which he surveys complacently in a mirror. The second,
a younger man, seems reluctant to uncover until absolutely
obliged to do so._
_The Grizzled Customer_ (_to the_ Other Customer, _as his natural
self-satisfaction overcomes his reserve_). 'Shtonishing how fast one's
hair does grow. It's not three weeks since I had a close crop. Great
nuisance, eh?
_The Other Customer_ (_with evident embarrassment_). Er--eh,
yes--quite so, I--I daresay.
[_He takes up a back number of "Punch," and reads the
advertisements with deep interest. Meanwhile, the Loquacious
Assistant has bowed out the Sympathetic Customer, and
touched a bell. A Saturnine Assistant appears, still
masticating bread-and-butter. The Second Customer removes
his hat, revealing a denuded crown, and thereby causing
surprise and a distinct increase of complacency in the
Grizzled Gentleman, who submits himself to the Loquacious
Assistant. The Bald Customer sinks resignedly into
the chair indicated by the Saturnine Operator, feeling
apologetic and conscious that he is not affording a fair scope
for that gentleman's professional talent. The other Assistant
appears to take a reflected pride in his subject._
_The Loq. Ass._ (_to the Grizzled Customer_). Remarkable how some
parties _do_ keep their 'air, Sir! Now yours--(_with a disparaging
glance at the Bald Customer's image in the mirror_)--yours grows
quite remarkable strong. Do you _use_ anythink for it now?
_The Gr. C._ Not I. Leave that to those who are not so well protected!
_The Loq. Ass._ I was on'y wondering if you'd been applying our
Rosicrucian Stimulant, Sir, that's all. There's the gentleman next
door to here--a chemist, he is--and if you'll believe me, he was
gettin' as bald as a robin, and he'd only tried it a fortnight when
his 'ed come out all over brustles!
_The Gr. C._ Brussels, what? _Sprouts_, eh?
_The Loq. Ass._ Hee-hee! no, Sir, brustles like on a brush. But you
can afford to 'ave _your_ laugh, Sir!
_The Sat. Ass._ (_to the Bald Customer, with withering deference_).
Much off, Sir?
_The B.C._ (_weakly thinking to propitiate by making light of his
infirmity_). Well, there isn't much _on_, is there?
_The S.A._ (_taking a mean advantage_). Well, Sir, it wou
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