ugh it
had been that of the parsimonious broker at the corner, who shaved only
when his beard was an eighth of an inch in length. Not satisfied with
this preparatory step, he resorted to the process used for particularly
hard beards, of rubbing the lather in with a towel wet in hot water;
but Andre did not smile, or by word or deed indicate that all he was
doing was not absolutely necessary in order to give his customer a
clean and an easy shave. Then he stropped his razor with zealous
enthusiasm, making the shop ring with the melody of the thin steel, as
he whipped it back and forth on the long strip of soft leather, one end
of which was nailed to the case, and the other end held in his hand.
The music was doubtless sweet to the listening ears of Mr. Wittleworth,
if not as the prelude of an easy shave, at least as an assurance that
all the customary forms had been scrupulously complied with in his
individual case.

[Illustration: MR. WITTLEWORTH GETS SHAVED.--Page 14.]

Slapping the broad-bladed razor on his soft hand, the barber approached
the young man in the chair. With a graceful movement he brought the
instrument to bear gently on the face.

"Does it pull, Fitz?" asked the tormentor in the next chair.

"Of course not; Andre always gives a man an easy shave," replied Mr.
Wittleworth.

"Certainly; but some people have tough beards and tender faces."

"If your beard is as soft as your head, it won't hurt you to shave with
a handsaw," retorted Mr. Wittleworth.

The laugh was at the expense of the tormentor, and he retreated from
the shop in the "guffaw," and Fitz was permitted to finish his shave in
peace--in peace, at least, so far as this particular tormentor was
concerned, for a more formidable one assailed him before his departure.
Andre went over his face with the nicest care; then lathered it again,
and proceeded to give it the finishing touches. He was faithful to the
end, and gave the juvenile patron the benefit of the entire length and
breadth of his art, omitting nothing that could add dignity or
perfection to the operation. It was quite certain that, if there was
anything like an imperceptible down on his face at the commencement of
the process, there was nothing left of it at the end.

Mr. Wittleworth's hair was oiled, moistened with diluted Cologne water,
combed, brushed, parted, and tossed in wavy flakes over his head, and
was as fragrant, glossy, and unctuous as the skill of Andre could make
i