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II.
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II.

The Barber's Shop.
Barber.
Cut short, sir? Have you heard the sad event?

Customer.
Poor Betsy's mother; that distress for rent?
And Betsy, such an open-handed one!

Barber.
With that the story was but just begun:
There is much more. Do you know Faith?

Customer.
Strange girl!

Barber.
Ah, true, sir! Will you have your hair in curl?

Customer.
Yes; but don't burn my scalp.

Barber.
Oh dear, sir, no;
We never do it here. Over the way,
No doubt, my stupid, clumsy rival may;
No art, no science in that man!

Customer.
Pooh, pooh!

Barber.
Well, sir, you know old Hunks?


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Customer.
Of course I do:
His is the shop to burn your fingers at;
Buys up old iron, rags, and bones, and that;
“The very best prices given—money to lend.”

Barber.
Well, sir—

Customer.
You have said that before, my friend.

Barber.
Well, sir, when Faith heard of poor Betsy's trouble,
She set off for old Hunks's, at the double—

Customer.
At what?

Barber.
Oh, very quick. Well, sir, next thing,
For the back rent, she changed a diamond ring;
At least it was a diamond ring.

Customer.
We hear
The rent was very little in arrear.

Barber.
Well, sir, old Hunks declares that ring was dear
At any price—no diamond ring at all.

Customer
(laughs).
What, old Hunks taken in? Now, that I call
A joke indeed! Don't pull my hair so tight.

Barber.
'Pardon, I'm sure, sir! Well, sir, right is right,

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And law is law; and so our constable
Takes up the girl, and puts her in a cell;
She is locked up—

Customer.
What, Faith in prison? Why?

Barber.
I thought I said, but I again will try—
For passing a sham jewel—

Customer.
But the Act—

Barber.
Oh, sir, our constable is most exact;
He knows the law—

Customer.
How does he prove Faith knew
The diamond ring was not of diamond true?
And what is done to Hunks for giving less
Than what he thought the ring was worth?

Barber.
I guess
That was a bargain. Don't you see, sir?

Customer.
Well,
But that cuts both ways. Faith has this to sell;
And Hunks gives her so much. 'Tis his affair
To see the jewel is a jewel. There!
Now you have done! Please don't blow down my back.

Barber.
Beg pardon! 'Tis our rule—we have a knack—


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Customer.
Well, I don't like it. None of all you fellows
Has got the sense to keep a pair of bellows.
So, good day, barber!

[Exit.
Barber.
That is gratitude,
Because I told him all the news. How rude!

[Exit.