had been taken by the tailor, the garments had been basted and tried on, and Hans was standing at his door in a state of feverish excitement, awaiting their arrival in a completed condition (as there was to be fete on the morrow, at which Agnes was to be present), when a stranger requested to be shaved.  Hans wished him at the ——­ next barber’s; but there was something so unpleasantly positive in the visitor’s appearance, that he had not the power to object, so politely bowed him into the shop.  The stranger removed his cap, and discovered two very ugly protuberances, one on each side of his head, and of most unphrenological appearance.  Hans commenced operations—­the lather dried as fast as he laid it on, and the razor emitted small sparks as it encountered the bristles on the stranger’s chin, Hans felt particularly uncomfortable, and not a word had hitherto passed on either side, when the stranger broke the ice by asking, rather abruptly, “Have you any schnapps in the house?” Hans jumped like a parched pea.  Without waiting for a reply, the stranger rose and opened the cupboard.  “I never take anything stronger than water,” said Hans, in reply, to the “pshaw!” which broke from the stranger’s lips as he smelt at the contents of a little brown pitcher.  “More fool you,” replied his customer.  “Here taste that—­some of the richest grape-blood of Rheingau;” and he handed Hans a small flask, which the sober barber respectfully declined.  “Ha! ha! and yet you hope to thrive with the women,” said the stranger.  “No wonder that Agnes treats you as she does.  But drink, man! drink!”

The stranger took a pipe, and coolly seated himself again in his chair, hung one leg over the back of another, and striking his finger briskly down his nose, elicited a flame that ignited his tobacco, and then he puffed, and puffed, till every moth in the shop coughed aloud.  The uneasiness of Hans increased, and he looked towards the door with the most cowardly intention; and, lo! two laughing, dimpled faces, were peeping in at them.  “Ha! how are you?” said the stranger; “come in! come in!” and to Hans’ horror, two very equivocal damsels entered the shop.  Hans felt scandalised, and was about to make a most powerful remonstrance, when he encountered the eye of his impertinent customer; and, from its sinister expression, he thought it wise to be silent.  One of the damsels seated herself upon the stranger’s knee, whilst the other looked most coaxingly to the barber; who, however, remained proof to all her winks and blinks, and “wreathed smiles.”

“’Sblitzen!” exclaimed the lady, “the man’s an icicle!”

“Hans, you’re a fool!” said the stranger; and his enamorata concurred in the opinion.  The flask was again proffered—­the eye-artillery again brought into action, but Hans remained constant to pump-water and Agnes Flirtitz.

The stranger rubbed the palm of his hand on one of his head ornaments, as though he were somewhat perplexed at the contumacious conduct of the barber; then rising, he gracefully led the ladies out.  As he stood with one foot on the step of the door, he turned his head scornfully over his shoulder, and said, “Hans, you are nothing but—­a barber; but before I eat, you shall repent of your present determination.”