The barber.
Lettering continues: Here's a mop! They say we've had a good harvest, and if our farmers have had such a crop at this, they've had no reason to complain ; and he must have it cut 'fashionable,' too. He's a stupid looking rascal, and yet nobody can say he's got "nothing" in his head. Folks say there s "Wisdom in a wig;" but after all there s something more lively in a head of hair. Come forward, barber! show your phiz! / Clear stage we'll give you, and no favour; / For you have prov'd, without a quiz, / A very close and cutting shaver. / [W]e know you are a busy prig / And patriot. Barbers, one and all, / Are strict adherents to the wig,/ And always ready att is caul./ But, Whig or Tory, what care I? / We greet you as a hearty soul; / And in these times, who dare deny, / Your zeal and merit at the poll? / And well you love a social glass, / Though now and then it makes you mellow; / Dear to the girls! for every lass / Is partial to strapping fellow fellow!
