They cannot for shame come, that's heaw it is; so we lose'n their custom till sich times as summat turns up at they can raise a trifle to pay up wi'.

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He has nobbut one razzor, but it'll be like to do." Hearken this, oh, ye spruce Figaros of the city, who trim the clean, crisp whiskers of the well-to-do! Hearken this, ye dainty perruquiers, "who look so brisk, and smell so sweet," and have such an exquisite knack of chirruping, and lisping, and sliding over the smooth edge of the under lip,--and, sometimes, agreeably too,--"an infinite deal of nothing,"-- ye who clip and anoint the hair of Old England's curled darlings! Eight chins a penny; and three months' credit! A bodle a piece for mowing chins overgrown with hair like pin-wire, and thick with dust; how would you like that?
How would you get through it all, with a family of four, and only one razor?
The next place we called at was what my friend described, in words that sounded to me, somehow, like melancholy irony,--as "a poor provision shop." It was, indeed, a poor shop for provender.