"Bully," added Nat, "but don't worry that you've laid aside nursing,
Yule, I have not been well myself. Ahem! Just finish off on me!"

"There comes our barber shop," called Ned, as a striped pole appeared in
view. "Now for the artistic clip-the-clip. Mike is a genius, blushing
unseen here. But I mean to set him up some day. Tried to get him out to
camp but he shied when we told him there were no 'cops.' Mike loves
'cops,' when the fellows get busy with his tonsorial apparatus."

"Don't faint this time," Dorothy cautioned Tavia with a merry smile,
thinking that those two boys would likely dip her in the brook at the
side of the shop should she attempt anything like that.

"Indeed I know where and when to faint," responded Tavia. "Mr. French
has a way about him--"

"But you never tried me," said Nat, making a funny move as if to catch
an armful of thin air. "I am an authority on faints. Every girl at
school says I'm a perfect dear, for catching falls at commencement time.
They all keel over then."

They were in front of the barber shop now. Mike opened the door with
such a bow Tavia could scarcely repress a smile.

Ned made the arrangements, and Tavia mounted the high chair, allowed
Mike, the Italian, to tuck the apron around her neck, then all she could
see was a very queer looking girl in the glass in front of her.

"Just trim it evenly," said Dorothy, walking up to the chair, and
feeling it was hardly safe to trust the boys with the order.