"Who are you?" I heard a sharp voice say. Looking round, I saw a
creature with a great eye in the middle of his face, and a long, lanky
hand spinning round and round over his visage.
"Who are _you_, rather?" I replied.
It was evidently what he wanted, for he began at once: "I'm all the
latest improvements--compensation balance and jewelled in four holes;
perfect for time, beauty, and workmanship; sound, strong, and accurate;
with keyless action, and large full-dial second hand; air-tight, damp-
tight, and dust-tight; seven guineas net and five per cent, to
teetotalers. There, what do you think of that?"
"I think," said I, with a laugh, in which a good many others joined,
"that if you're so tight as all that teetotalers had better do without
you."
It will be observed the scenes and company I had been in of late years
had tended to improve neither my temper nor my manners.
In this way we spent most of the day before the auction, and it was
quite a relief early next morning to find ourselves being removed to the
"Central Mart."
It was impossible, however, to resist the temptation of another quarrel
in our tray while we were waiting for the sale to begin. The culprit in
this instance was a certain Queen Anne's shilling attached to the chain
of an insignificant-looking watch.
"What business has that ugly bit of tin here?" asked a burly hunter.
"Who calls me an ugly bit of tin?" squeaked out the coin.
"I do; there!" said the hunter; "now what have you got to say?"
"Only that you're a falsehood. Why, you miserable, machine-made,
wheezing, old make-believe of a turnip--"
"Draw it mild, young fellow," said the hunter.
"Do you know that I was current coin of the realm before the tin mine
that supplied your carcass was so much as discovered? I'm a Queen
Anne's shilling!"
"Are you, though? And what good are you now, my ancient Bob?"
The shilling grew, so to speak, black in the face.
"I won't be called a Bob! I'm not a Bob! Who dares call me a Bob?"
"I do, Bob; there, Bob. What do you think of that, Bob? What's the use
of you, Bob, eh? Can _you_ tell the time, Bob, eh, Bob, Bob, Bob?"
And we all took up the cry, and from that moment until the time of our
sale every sound, for us, was drowned in a ceaseless cry of "Bob!" in
the midst of which the unlucky Queen Anne's shilling crawled under his
watch, and devoutly wished he were as undoubtedly dead as the
illustrious royal lady whose image and superscription he had the
misfortune to bear.
In due time the sale began. Among the earliest lots I recognised my
acquaintance the solid silver sugar-tongs, which went for very nearly
his full value, thus confirming me in my belief that, after all, there's
nothing like the genuine thing all the world over.
After the disposal of the silver goods--for which comparatively few
people bid, and that with little or no competition--the real excitement
of the auction began.
"I have here, ladies and gentlemen," said the auctioneer, "a remarkably
fine and superior lot of silver watches, all of which have been
carefully cleaned and kept in order, and which, I can safely say, are
equal to, if not better than, new. In many cases the watches are
accompanied by chains of a very elegant and chaste description, which
appendages considerably enhance their value. When I inform you that we
value the contents of this tray, at the very lowest, at £90, being an
average of £4 per watch, you will see I am not presenting to you any
ordinary lot of goods. I will put up the watches singly in the order in
which they are described in the catalogue."
Some of the company looked as if they were not sure whether they ought
not to say "Hear, hear!" after this very elegant and polished speech,
but they restrained their admiration, and reserved their energies for
the bidding.
As I was last on the list I had full opportunity of noticing how my
fellows fared, and was specially curious to see how the three or four
watches whose acquaintance I had chanced to make went off.
The common-looking watch with the unlucky "Bob" attached to its chain
was knocked down for £3 5 shillings, which, on the whole, was a triumph
to the mortified coin, for it is certain without him the lot would not
have fetched nearly so much, and his triumph was further enhanced by the
fact that the hunter with whom he had had his altercation fetched only
£2 17 shillings 6 pence. However, there was no time for jeers and
recriminations at present, we were all too deeply absorbed in watching
the fate of our fellows and speculating on our own.
The compensation balance, keyless, air-tight, seven-guinea grandee was
the next to be put up, and the first bid for him was £1 10s.
"That I should have lived to hear that!" I heard the poor creature
gasp.
"And if he's a teetotaler," I murmured, by way of encouragement, "that
only means £1 8 shillings 6 pence!"
"Scoffer! be silent and leave me to my misery," said the keyless one, in
a solemn tone.
The bidding improved considerably. He was run up to £2, £2 10
shillings, £3, £3 10 shillings, and finally to £4.
"Nothing more for this very magnificent watch?" said the auctioneer; "I
positively cannot let him go for a song."
No answer.
"I wish gentlemen would take the trouble to look at it," continued the
persevering official; "they could not fail to see it was worth twice the
money bid."
Still no answer.
"Did I understand you to bid four five, sir?" said the auctioneer to an
innocent-looking stripling near the door. "Thank you."
The stripling, however, disclaimed the soft impeachment, and looked very
guilty as he did so.
"Well, there seems no help for it. I wish I were down among you
gentlemen. I'd take good care not to lose this chance."
No answer.
"Then I must knock it down. Going, going, gone, sir; it's yours, and
dirt cheap, too."
All this was encouraging for me. If a seven-guinea watch goes for four
pounds, for how much will a three-guinea one go?
This was a problem which I feebly endeavoured to solve as I lay waiting
my turn.
It came at last. I felt myself lifted on high, and heard my merits
pronounced in the words of the catalogue.
"Lot 68. London made, lever, open-face watch, capped and jewelled, in
very fine order."
"Look for yourselves, gentlemen."
The gentlemen did look for themselves, and complimented me by a
preliminary bid of 15 shillings.
The auctioneer laughed a pleasant laugh, as much as to say, "That is a
capital joke," and waited for the next bid.
It was not long in coming, and I advanced rapidly by half-crowns to
thirty shillings. Here I made sure I should stop, for this was the
figure at which the pawnbroker himself had valued me. But no; such are
the vagaries of an auction, I went on still, up to £2, and from that to
£2 10 shillings. Surely there was some mistake. I looked out to see
who they were who were thus bidding for me, and fancied I detected in
that scrutiny the secret of my unexpected value.
It was a countryman bidding--endeavouring in his downright way to become
my possessor, and wholly unconscious of the array of Jews against him,
who bid him up from half-crown to half-crown until I had nearly reached
my original value.
"Three pounds," at last said one of the Jews.
The countryman had evidently come to the end of his tether, and did not
answer the challenge.
"Three pounds," said the auctioneer; "you're not going to stop, sir?"
The countryman said nothing.
"Try once more," said the auctioneer; but the rustic was silent.
"Three pounds; no more? Going, going--"
"Guineas!" roared the countryman, at the last moment.
"Thank you, sir; I thought you were not going to be beaten. Three
guineas, gentlemen; who says more? Nobody? Going, then, to you, sir;
going, going, gone!"
And so, once more, I changed masters.