University of Virginia Library


82

THE BARBER.

Nick Razor-blade a barber was,
A strapping lad was he;
And he could shave with such a grace,
It was a joy to see!
And tho' employ'd within his house,
He kept like rat in hole;
All those that pass'd the barber's door,
Could always see his pole!
His dress was rather plain than rich,
Nor fitted over well;
Yet, tho' no macaroni Nick,
He often cut a swell!
And Nick was brave, and he could fight,
As many times he proved;
A lamb became a lion fierce,
Whenever he was moved!

83

Like many of his betters, who
To field with pistols rush,
When Nicky lather'd any one,
He was obliged to brush!
Some say Nick was a brainless block,
While those who've seen him waving
His bright sharp razor, o'er soap'd chins,
Declare he was a shaving!
His next door neighbour, Nelly Jones,
A maid of thirty eight,
'Twas said regarded Nick with smiles,
But folks will always prate.
'Tis known in summer-time that she,
(A maid and only daughter)
To shew her love for Razor-blade,
Kept Nicky in hot water!
For politics Nick always said,
He never cared a fig;
Quoth he:—“If I a Tory were,
“I likewise wear a wig!

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No poacher he, yet hairs he wired,
With skill that made maids prouder;
And though he never used a gun,
He knew the use of powder!
He never took offence at words,
However broad or blunt;
But when maids brought a front to dress,
Of course he took a front!
Beneath his razor folks have slept,
So easy were they mown;
Yet (oh! most passing strange it was!)
His razor was his own!
Nick doubtless had a tender heart,
But not for Nelly Jones;
He made Miss Popps ‘bone of his bone,’
But never made old bones!
He died and left an only son,
A barber too by trade;
But when they ope'd his will, they found
A cruel will he'd made.

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And doubtless he was raving mad,
(To slander I'm unwilling)
For tho' a barber, Nicky cut
His heir off with a shilling!