"Mr Pigtop,
pray do--do, do, sir, try the razors yourself. My heart bleeds, sir,
more than your face--do try, sir, for I think the captain's servant is
now coming down the hatchway to tell you dinner is ready."

In despair, the hungry depilator seized the razors: and, being
exasperated with hurry, he made a worse job of it than Joshua. Where
Josh had made notches, Pigtop made gashes. The ship's barber was then
sent for, and he positively refused to go over the bloody surface.

But Joshua Daunton was the true friend, the friend in need. With Mr
Pigtop's permission, he would go and borrow one of Dr Thompson's
razors. The offer was gratefully accepted. In the meantime, dinner was
actually announced. It is just about as wise to attempt to keep the
hungry tiger from his newly-slaughtered prey, as for a mid to make the
captain of a man-of-war wait dinner. Reud did not wait.

However, the fresh razor did its work admirably, in the adroit hand of
Joshua. The hitherto intractable beard flew off rapidly, and Joshua's
tongue moved more glibly even than his razor. Barbers in the act of
office have, like the House of Commons, the privilege of speech. They
are not amenable afterwards for what they say. In the act they are
omnipotent, for who would quarrel with a man who is slipping a razor
over your carotid artery? Not, certainly, Mr Pigtop. Thus spoke
Joshua, amid the eloquent flourishes of his instrument:--

"Mr Pigtop, I've a great respect for you--a very great respect indeed,
sir. If you have not been a good friend to me yet, you will--I know it,
sir; you are not like the other flighty young gentlemen. I have a
respect for years, sir--a great respect for years, and honour a
middle-aged gentleman. Indeed, sir, it must be a great condescension in
you to permit yourself to be only a master's--mate of a frigate, seeing
that you are quite an elderly gentleman--"

"Da--!"

"There!--that was very imprudent indeed, sir, of you to open your mouth.
It was not my fault, you know, that the brush went into it: indeed,
some people like the taste of soapsuds--wholesome, I assure you--very.
A stubble of your growth, sir, always requires a double lathering--don't
speak. Oh, sir, you are a happy man--exceeding. Your face will be as
smooth as a man's borrowing money. You, boy, just run up the
after-hatchway, and tell the captain's steward that Mr Pigtop will be
in the cabin in the flourish of a razor, or before a white ho