"But my hair is my own, and I'm going to keep it." "Now, that's not fair, after what I've told you," said the nettled barber.

"You see, Marty, as you are in the same parish, and in one of her cottages, and your father is ill, and wouldn't like to turn out, it would be as well to oblige her.

I say that as a friend.

But I won't press you to make up your mind to-night.

You'll be coming to market to-morrow, I dare say, and you can call then.