THE CUSTOMER. Yes. Got to attend a meeting at three-ten.
THE BARBER. Oh! The auction up-stairs?
THE CUSTOMER. Yes. (He glances at the clock.) You'll have to cut it pretty fine.
THE BARBER. Don't worry, sir. There's lots of time.... From the country, sir?
THE CUSTOMER. (Lighting a cigar) Yes. Southerner.
THE BARBER. (Fastening the sheet) I thought so. I'm from the country myself.
THE CUSTOMER. What part?
THE BARBER. Oh, that would be difficult to say. You see, I've moved around so much that I'm neither a Southerner nor a Northerner. I'm just an American. (He mixes the lather.) I lived in a little town near Savannah for a year.
THE CUSTOMER. Did you? Why, so did I.
THE BARBER. Yes, indeed. I used to see you--quite frequently-- though you never came into my shop. Then I went to Philadelphia.
THE CUSTOMER. What year?
THE BARBER. Let me think. It was