“You do, sir; I tell you, you do! and what's more, I wish the same to you--transported, at any rate! But as two sailors, when a boat's a-sinking, though they hate each other ever so much, will help and bale the boat out; so, sir, let US act: let us be the two sailors.” “Bail, sir?” said Eglantine, as usual mistaking the drift of the argument. “I'll bail no man! If you're in difficulties, I think you had better go to your senior partner, Mr Woolsey.” And Eglantine's cowardly little soul was filled with a savage satisfaction to think that his enemy was in distress, and actually obliged to come to HIM for succour. “You're enough to make Job swear, you great fat stupid lazy old barber!” roared Mr. Woolsey, in a fury. Eglantine jumped up and made for the bell-rope. The gallant little tailor laughed. “There's no need to call in Betsy,” said he. “I'm not a-going to eat you, Eglantine; you're a bigger man than me: if you were just to fall on me, you'd smother me! Just sit still on the sofa and listen to reason.” “Well, sir, pro-ceed,” said the barber with a gasp. “Now, listen! What's the darling wish of your heart? I know it, sir! you've told it to Mr. Tressle, sir, and other gents at the club. The darling wish of your heart, sir, is to have a slap-up coat turned out of the ateliers of Messrs. Linsey, Woolsey and Company. You said you'd give twenty guineas for one of our coats, you know you did! Lord Bolsterton's a fatter man than you, and look what a figure we turn HIM out. Can any firm in England dress Lord Bolsterton but us, so as to make his Lordship look decent? I defy 'em, sir! We could have given Daniel Lambert a figure!” “If I want a coat, sir,” said Mr. Eglantine, “and I don't deny it, there's some people want a HEAD OF HAIR!” “That's the very point I was coming to,” said the tailor, resuming the violent blush which was mentioned as having suffused his countenance at the beginning of the conversation. “Let us have terms of mutual accommodation. Make me a wig, Mr. Eglantine, and though I never yet cut a yard of cloth except for a gentleman, I'll pledge you my word I'll make you a coat.” “WILL you, honour bright?” says Eglantine. “Honour bright,” says the tailor. “Look!” and in an instant he drew from his pocket one of those slips of parchment which gentlemen of his profession carry, and putting Eglantine into the proper position, began to take the preliminary observations. He felt Eglantine's heart thump with happiness as his measure passed over that soft part of the perfumer's person.