However much Kentish farmers may grumble about the agricultural
outlook, their strop-and-razor colleagues, the barbers of that county,
should now replace any grief in which they also may be indulging in
reference to _their_ industry, with great gaiety, for there is every
prospect of a long and prosperous run of hirsute harvests. The High
Constable has decreed that, unless his men can grow "well regulated
beards or military moustaches," they are to be clean-shaven. Farewell
the festive "mutton-chop" whisker and the jovial goatee! Henceforth
"Bobby" will be beardless, and as he drinks the mid-day pint of that
frothing beverage whose main ingredient--more or less--is malt, the
upper-lip hops-tacle, upon which the foam was wont to find a brief
resting-place, will be conspicuous by its absence--not lost exactly,
but s(h)aved before.
[Illustration]
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