said that his cut was as magnificent as that of any man in the
profession. Woolsey and Eglantine were rivals in many ways--rivals
in fashion, rivals in wit, and, above all, rivals for the hand of an
amiable young lady whom we have already mentioned, the dark-eyed
songstress Morgiana Crump. They were both desperately in love with
her, that was the truth; and each, in the absence of the other,
abused his rival heartily. Of the hairdresser Woolsey said, that as
for Eglantine being his real name, it was all his (Mr. Woolsey's)
eye; that he was in the hands of the Jews, and his stock and grand
shop eaten up by usury. And with regard to Woolsey, Eglantine
remarked, that his pretence of being descended from the Cardinal was
all nonsense; that he was a partner, certainly, in the firm, but had
only a sixteenth share; and that the firm could never get their
moneys in, and had an immense number of bad debts in their books.
As is usual, there was a great deal of truth and a great deal of
malice in these tales; however, the gentlemen were, take them all in
all, in a very fashionable way of business, and had their claims to
Miss Morgiana's hand backed by the parents. Mr. Crump was a
partisan of the tailor; while Mrs. C. was a strong advocate for the
claims of the enticing perfumer.

Now, it was a curious fact, that these two gentlemen were each in
need of the other's services--Woolsey being afflicted with premature
baldness, or some other necessity for a wig still more
fatal--Eglantine being a very fat man, who required much art to make
his figure at all decent. He wore a brown frock-coat and frogs, and
attempted by all sorts of contrivances to hide his obesity; but
Woolsey's remark, that, dress as he would, he would always look like
a snob, and that there was only one man in England who could make a
gentleman of him, went to the perfumer's soul; and if there was one