The Gr.  C. Ha, poor beggar!  Wash doing it any good?

The Loq.  Ass. (demurely).  That I can’t tell you, Sir; but it ’as a very agreeable perfume.

The S.A. I think I’ve taken off about as much as you can spare, Sir!

The Gr.  C. (with a note of triumph).  Look here, you know, there’s a lot more to come off here—­won’t be missed, eh?

The Loq.  Ass. No, Sir, you’ve an uncommon thick ’ed—­of ’air, I mean, of course!

The S.A. If you’ll take my advice, you’ll ’ave yours singed, Sir.

The B.C. (dejectedly).  Why, think it’s any use?

The S.A. No doubt of that, Sir.  Look at the way they singe a ’orse’s legs. [The Bald Customer yields, convinced by this argument.

The Gr.  C. No singeing or any nonsense of that sort for me, mind!

    [They are shampooed simultaneously.

The B.C. (piteously, from his basin).  Th—­that’s c-cold enough, thanks!

The Gr.  C. (aggressively from his).  Here, colder than that—­as cold as you can make it—­I don’t care!

The B.C. (drying his face meekly on a towel).  A—­a hand-brush, please, not the machine!

The S.A. No, Sir, machine-brush would about sweep all the ’air off your ’ed, Sir!

The Gr.  C. Machinery for me—­and your hardest brush, do you hear?

The Loq.  Ass.  { (together, to    {Shall I put anything on
The S.A.       {_their respective_  {    your ’ed, Sir?
{  patients.)      {Like anything on your
{     ’air, Sir?

The S.A. Well, you may as well keep what little you ’ave got, Sir.  Like to try our ’Irsutine Lotion, capital thing, Sir.  Known it answer in the most desprit cases.  Keep it in ’alf-crown or three-and-sixpenny sizes.  Can I ‘ave the pleasure of puttin’ you up a three-and-sixpenny one, Sir? (The Bald Customer musters up moral courage to decline, at which the Assistant appears disgusted with him.) No, Sir?  Much obliged, Sir.  Let me see—­(with a touch of sarcasm)—­you part your ’air a one side, I think, Sir?  Brush your ’at, Sir?  Thankee, Sir.  Pay at the counter, if you please.  Shop—­there!

The Loq.  Ass. Think your ’air’s as you like it now, Sir?  Like to look at yourself in a ’and-glass, Sir?  Thank you, Sir.

[The Bald Customer puts on his hat with relief, and instantly recovers his self-respect sufficiently to cast a defiant glare upon his rival, and walk out with dignity.  The Grizzled Customer after prolonged self-inspection, follows.  The two Assistants are left alone.

The Loq.  Ass. Pretty proud of his ’air, that party, eh?  Notice how I tumbled to him?