- end_line
- 10176
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:57.726Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 10111
- text
- notification," again pointing to it with his brush; "but, dear me, while
I sit chatting here, the water boils over."
With which words, and such a well-pleased, sly, snug, expression, as
they say some men have when they think their little stratagem has
succeeded, he hurried to the copper vessel, and soon had his cup foaming
up with white bubbles, as if it were a mug of new ale.
Meantime, the other would have fain gone on with the discourse; but the
cunning barber lathered him with so generous a brush, so piled up the
foam on him, that his face looked like the yeasty crest of a billow, and
vain to think of talking under it, as for a drowning priest in the sea
to exhort his fellow-sinners on a raft. Nothing would do, but he must
keep his mouth shut. Doubtless, the interval was not, in a meditative
way, unimproved; for, upon the traces of the operation being at last
removed, the cosmopolitan rose, and, for added refreshment, washed his
face and hands; and having generally readjusted himself, began, at last,
addressing the barber in a manner different, singularly so, from his
previous one. Hard to say exactly what the manner was, any more than to
hint it was a sort of magical; in a benign way, not wholly unlike the
manner, fabled or otherwise, of certain creatures in nature, which have
the power of persuasive fascination--the power of holding another
creature by the button of the eye, as it were, despite the serious
disinclination, and, indeed, earnest protest, of the victim. With this
manner the conclusion of the matter was not out of keeping; for, in the
end, all argument and expostulation proved vain, the barber being
irresistibly persuaded to agree to try, for the remainder of the present
trip, the experiment of trusting men, as both phrased it. True, to save
his credit as a free agent, he was loud in averring that it was only for
the novelty of the thing that he so agreed, and he required the other,
as before volunteered, to go security to him against any loss that might
ensue; but still the fact remained, that he engaged to trust men, a
thing he had before said he would not do, at least not unreservedly.
Still the more to save his credit, he now insisted upon it, as a last
point, that the agreement should be put in black and white, especially
the security part. The other made no demur; pen, ink, and paper were
provided, and grave as any notary the cosmopolitan sat down, but, ere
taking the pen, glanced up at the notification, and said: "First down
with that sign, barber--Timon's sign, there; down with it."
This, being in the agreement, was done--though a little
reluctantly--with an eye to the future, the sign being carefully put
away in a drawer.
"Now, then, for the writing," said the cosmopolitan, squaring himself.
"Ah," with a sigh, "I shall make a poor lawyer, I fear. Ain't used, you
see, barber, to a business which, ignoring the principle of honor, holds
no nail fast till clinched. Strange, barber," taking up the blank paper,
"that such flimsy stuff as this should make such strong hawsers; vile
hawsers, too. Barber," starting up, "I won't put it in black and white.
It were a reflection upon our joint honor. I will take your word, and
you shall take mine."
"But your memory may be none of the best, sir. Well for you, on your
side, to have it in black and white, just for a memorandum like, you
know."
"That, indeed! Yes, and it would help _your_ memory, too, wouldn't it,
barber? Yours, on your side, being a little weak, too, I dare say. Ah,
barber! how ingenious we human beings are; and how kindly we reciprocate
each other's little delicacies, don't we? What better proof, now, that
we are kind, considerate fellows, with responsive fellow-feelings--eh,
barber? But to business. Let me see. What's your name, barber?"
"William Cream, sir."
- title
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