At this moment, with the poodle sporting the rubber about fifteen feet ahead of them, they beheld an Italian barber lolling in the doorway of his shop, as profoundly bored by himself as they affected to be in conjunction. "Fine dog," said the barber with a critical glance. "Sure," said McNab, halting at once. The poodle, for whatever reason, likewise halted and looked around. "Looka better, cutta da hair." "You're right there, Columbus," assented Buck Waters. "His fur coat looks as though it came from a fire sale." "He ought to be trim up nice, good style." "Right, very, very right!" "Give him nice collar, nice tuft on da tail, nice tuft on da feet." "Right the second time!" "I clip him up, eh?" said the barber hopefully. "Why not?" said McNab, looking into the depth of Buck Waters's eyes. "Why not, Beecher?" said Waters, giving him the name of the President of the College Y. M. C. A. "I think it an excellent suggestion, Jonathan Edwards," said McNab instantly. With considerable strategic coaxing, the dog was enticed into the shop, where to their surprise he became immediately docile. "You see he lika da clip," said the barber enthusiastically, preparing a table. "He's a very intelligent dog," said McNab. "You've done much of this, Columbus?" said Waters with a business-like air. "Sure. Ten, twenta dog a day, down in da city." "Edwards, we shall learn something." The dog was induced to come on the table, and Waters delegated to hold him in position. "Something pretty slick now, Christopher," said McNab, taking the attitude a connoisseur should take. "Explain the fine points to us, as you go along." "Sure." "I like the way he handles the scissors, Beecher--strong, powerful stroke." "He's got a good batting eye, too, Edwards." "My, what a nice clean boulevard!" "Just see the hair fly." "It'll certainly improve the tail." "Clip a little anchor in the middle of the back." "Did you see that?" "I did." "He's a wonder." "He is." "Columbus, a little more off here--oh, just a trifle!" "First rate; shave up the nose and part the whiskers!" "Look at the legs, with the dinky pantalets--aren't they dreams?" "I love the tail best." "Why, Columbus is an artist. Never saw any one like him." "Would you know the dog?" "Why, mother wouldn't know him," said McNab solemnly. "All in forty-three minutes, too." "It's beautifully done, beautifully." "Exquisite!" The barber, perspiring with his ambitious efforts, withdrew for a final inspection, clipped a little on the top and to the side, and signified by a nod that art could go no further. "Pretta fine, eh?" "Mr. Columbus, permit me," said Waters, shaking hands. McNab gravely followed suit. The dog, released, gave a howl and began circling madly about the room. "Open the door," shouted McNab. "See how happy he is!"