THE BARBER OF STOCKSBAWLER.

A TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL.

At the little town of Stocksbawler, on the Lower Rhine, in the year of
grace 1830, resided one Hans Scrapschins, an industrious and close-shaving
barber. His industry met with due encouragement from the bearded portion
of the community; and the softer sex, whose greatest fault is fickleness,
generally selected Hans for the honour of new-fronting them, when they had
grown tired of the ringlets nature had bestowed and which time had
frosted.

Hans continued to shave and thrive, and all the careful old burghers
foretold of his future well-doing; when he met with a misfortune, which
promised for a time to shut up his shop and leave him a beggar. He fell in
love.

Neighbours warned Hans of the consequences of his folly; but all
remonstrance was vain. Customers became scarce, wearing out their patience
and their wigs together; the shop became dirty, and winter saw the flies
of summer scattered on his show-board.

Agnes Flirtitz was the prettiest girl in Stocksbawler. Her eyes were as
blue as a summer's sky, her cheeks as rosy as an autumn sunset, and her
teeth as white as winter's snow. Her hair was a beautiful flaxen--not a
_drab_--but that peculiar sevenpenny-moist-sugar tint which the poets of
old were wont to call golden. Her voice was melodious; her notes in _alt_
were equal to Grisi's: in short, she would have been a very desirable,
loveable young lady, if she had not been a coquette.