The barber’s basin certainly ranks next in importance to the pole. The basin of the proper form had the usual semi-circle cut out of the brim, that it might fit into the neck; and, in another part, a hollow place, like a little dish, to hold the soap: its office was two-fold, and was in requisition both for bleeding and shaving. To the disturbed vision of Don Quixote the brass basin glittered like burnished gold. His adventure with the village barber, mounted on his dappled grey ass, the renowned helmet, and the part it played in the astounding feats of that flower of chivalry, are known the world over, and are among the most pleasant associations connected with the barber’s trade. At a public festival in Holland, in honour of the Earl of Leicester, Holinshed says a barber set up some three score of bright copper basins on a wall, with a wax candle burning in each, and a painting of a rose and crown, and an inscription in Latin, “this made a faire shew, and was a pretie deuise.” If the fellow were an honest patriot, he deserved a pyramid of brass basins for a monument. Punning inscriptions and quaint devices outside of the shop were frequently adopted as alluring bait for the lovers of odd whims and fancies, who thought none the worse of the man for having some spice of humour in his composition. Over a barber’s shop Hogarth has set up this inscription, “Shaving, bleeding, and teeth drawn with a touch, ECCE SIGNUM.” Bat Pigeon, of whom honourable mention is made by both Steele and Addison, had a curious device of a bat and a pigeon, which, in its day, attracted much attention. The wig-maker’s sign of Absalom hanging from the oak by his hair, and the darts of Joab fixed in his side, is probably of French origin. The story is told of a barber at Troyes, and the inscription runs thus: “Passans, contemplez la douleur D’Absalon pendu par la nuque: Il eût évité ce malheur S’il avait porté la _perruque_.” The English version is more concise: “O Absalom, unhappy sprig, Thou shouldst have worn a perriwig.”