<p class="center">[<i>Brougham falls to rear—triumph of</i> <span class="smcap">Conductor</span> <i>as Scene closes</i>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[ 19]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 85%;" />
<h2>At a Sale of High-Class Sculpture.</h2>
<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>An upper floor in a City Warehouse; a low whitewashed room,
dimly lighted by dusty windows and two gas-burners in wire cages.
Around the walls are ranged several statues of meek aspect, securely
confined in barred wooden cases, like a sort of marble menagerie. In the
centre, a labyrinthine grove of pedestals, surmounted by busts, groups,
and statuettes by modern Italian masters. About these pedestals a small
crowd—consisting of Elderly Merchants on the look out for a "neat
thing in statuary" for the conservatory at Croydon or Muswell Hill,
Young City Men who have dropped in after lunch, Disinterested Dealers,
Upholsterers' Buyers, Obliging Brokers, and Grubby and Mysterious
men—is cautiously circulating.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Obliging Broker</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Amiable Spectator</span>, <i>who has come in out of
curiosity, and without the remotest intention of purchasing sculpture</i>). No
Catlog, Sir? 'Ere, allow me to orfer you mine—that's <i>my</i> name in pencil
on the top of it, Sir; and, if you <i>should</i> 'appen to see any lot that takes
your fancy, you jest ketch my eye. (<i>Reassuringly.</i>) I sha'n't be fur off.
Or look 'ere, gimme a nudge—I shall know what it means.</p>
<p class="center">[<i>The</i> A. S. <i>thanks him profusely, and edges away with an inward
vow to avoid his and the</i> <span class="smcap">Auctioneer's</span> <i>eyes, as he would
those of a basilisk</i>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auctioneer</span> (<i>from desk, with the usual perfunctory fervour</i>). Lot 13,
Gentlemen, very charming pair of subjects from child life—"<i>The Pricked
Finger</i>" and "<i>The Scratched Toe</i>"—by Bimbi.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">A Stolid Assistant</span> (<i>in shirtsleeves</i>). Figgers <i>'ere</i>, Gen'lm'n!</p>
<p class="center">[<i>Languid surge of crowd towards them.</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[ 20]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/p20.png" width-obs="303" height-obs="600" alt=""FIGGERS 'ere, GEN'L'M'N!"" title="" /> <span class="caption">"FIGGERS 'ere, GEN'L'M'N!"</span></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[ 21]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">A Facetious Bidder.</span> Which of 'em's the finger and which the toe?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> (<i>coldly</i>). I should have thought it was easy to identify by the
attitude. Now, Gentlemen, give me a bidding for these very finely-executed
works by Bimbi. Make any offer. What will you give me for
'em? Both very sweet things, Gentlemen. Shall we say ten guineas?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">A Grubby Man.</span> Give yer five.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> (<i>with grieved resignation</i>). Very well, start 'em at five. Any
advance on five? (<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Assist.</span>) Turn 'em round, to show the back view.
And a 'arf! Six! And a 'arf! Only six and a 'arf bid for this beautiful
pair of figures, done direct from nature by Bimbi. Come, Gentlemen,
come! Seven! Was that <i>you</i>, <span class="smcap">Mr. Grimes</span>? (<span class="smcap">The Grubby Man</span>
<i>admits the soft impeachment</i>.) Seven and a 'arf. Eight! It's <i>against</i> you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Grimes</span> (<i>with a supreme effort</i>). Two-and-six!</p>
<p class="center">[<i>Mops his brow with a red cotton handkerchief.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> (<i>in a tone of gratitude for the smallest mercies</i>). Eight-ten-six.
All done at eight-ten-six? Going ... gone! <span class="smcap">Grimes</span>, Eight, ten, six.
Take money for 'em. Now we come to a very 'andsome work by Piffalini—"<i>The
Ocarina Player</i>," one of this great artist's masterpieces, and an
exceedingly choice and high-class work, as you will all agree directly you
see it. (<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Assist.</span>) Now, then, Lot 14, there—look sharp!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Stolid Assist.</span> "Hocarina Plier" eyn't arrived, Sir.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> Oh, hasn't it? Very well, then. Lot 15. "<i>The Pretty Pill-taker</i>,"
by Antonio Bilio—a really magnificent work of Art, Gentlemen.
(<i>"Pill-taker, 'ere.!" from the</i> S. A.) What'll you give me for her? Come,
make me an offer. (<i>Bidding proceeds till the "Pill-taker" is knocked down
for twenty-three-and-a-half guineas.</i>) Lot 16, "<i>The Mixture as Before</i>," by
same artist—make a charming and suitable companion to the last lot.
What do you say, <span class="smcap">Mr. Middleman</span>—take it at the same bidding? (Mr.
M. <i>assents, with the end of one eyebrow</i>.) Any advance on twenty-three
and a 'arf? None? Then,—<span class="smcap">Middleman</span>, Twenty-four, thirteen, six.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Middleman</span> (<i>to the</i> <span class="smcap">Amiable Spectator</span>, <i>who has been vaguely
inspecting the "Pill-taker"</i>). Don't know if you noticed it, Sir, but I got
that last couple very cheap—on'y forty-seven guineas the pair, and they
are worth eighty, I solemnly declare to you. I could get forty a piece for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[ 22]</SPAN></span>
'em to-morrow, upon my word and honour, I could. Ah, and I know
who'd <i>give</i> it me for 'em, too!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The A. S.</span> (<i>sympathetically</i>). Dear me, then you've done very well
over it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> Ah, well ain't the word—and those two aren't the only lots
I've got either. That "<i>Sandwich-Man</i>" over there is mine—look at the
work in those boards, and the nature in his clay pipe; and "<i>The Boot-Black</i>,"
that's mine, too—all worth twice what <i>I</i> got 'em for—and lovely
things, too, ain't they?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The A. S.</span> Oh, very nice, very clever—congratulate you, I'm sure.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> I can see you've took a fancy to 'em, Sir, and, when I come
across a gentleman that's a connysewer, I'm always sorry to stand in his
light; so, see here, you can have any one you like out o' my little lot, or
all on 'em, with all the pleasure in the wide world, Sir, and I'll on'y charge
you five per cent. on what I gave for 'em, and be exceedingly obliged to
you, into the bargain, Sir. (<i>The</i> A. S. <i>feebly disclaims any desire to take
advantage of this magnanimous offer</i>.) Don't say No, if you mean Yes,
Sir. Will you <i>'ave "The Pill-taker,"</i> Sir?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The A. S.</span> (<i>politely</i>). Thank you very much, but—er—I think <i>not</i>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> Then perhaps you could do with "<i>The Little Boot-Black</i>," or
"<i>The Sandwich-Man</i>," Sir?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The A. S.</span> Perhaps—but I could do still better <i>without</i> them.</p>
<p class="center">[<i>He moves to another part of the room.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Obl. Broker</span> (<i>whispering beerily in his ear</i>). Seen anythink yet
as takes your fancy, Sir; 'cos, if so—</p>
<p class="center">[<span class="smcap">The A. S.</span> <i>escapes to a dark corner—where he is warmly welcomed
by</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Middleman</span>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> <i>Knew</i> you'd think better on it, Sir. Now which is it to be—the
"<i>Boot-Black</i>," or "<i>Mixture as Before</i>"?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> Now we come to Lot 19. Massive fluted column in coral
marble with revolving-top—a column, Gentlemen, which will speak for
itself.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Facetious Bidder</span> (<i>after a scrutiny</i>). Then it may as well
mention, while it's <i>about</i> it, that it's got a bit out of its back!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[ 23]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> Flaw in the marble, that's all. (<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Assist.</span>) Nothing the
<i>matter</i> with the column, is there?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Assist.</span> (<i>with reluctant candour</i>). Well, it <i>'as</i> got a little chipped,
Sir.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> (<i>easily</i>). Oh, very well then, we'll sell it "A. F." Very glad
it was found out in time, I'm sure. [<i>Bidding proceeds.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">First Dealer</span> <i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Second</span> (<i>in a husky whisper</i>). Talkin' o' Old
Masters, I put young 'Anway up to a good thing the other day.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Second D.</span> (<i>without surprise—probably from a knowledge of his
friend's noble unselfish nature</i>). Ah—'ow was that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">First D.</span> Well, there was a picter as I 'appened to know could be
got in for a deal under what it ought—in good 'ands, mind yer—to fetch.
It was a Morlan'—leastwise, it was so like you couldn't ha' told the
difference, if you understand my meanin'. (<i>The other nods with complete
intelligence.</i>) Well, I 'adn't no openin' for it myself just then, so I sez to
young 'Anway, "You might do worse than go and 'ave a <i>look</i> at it," I told
him. And I run against him yesterday, Wardour Street way, and I sez,
"Did yer go and <i>see</i> that picter?" "Yes," sez he, "and what's more, I
got it at pretty much my own figger, too!" "Well," sez I, "and ain't yer
goin' to <i>shake 'ands with me over it</i>?"</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Second D.</span> (<i>interested</i>). And <i>did</i> he?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">First D.</span> Yes, he did—he beyaved very fair over the matter, I will
say <i>that</i> for him.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Second D.</span> Oh, 'Anway's a very decent little feller—<i>now</i>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> (<i>hopefully</i>). Now, Gentlemen, this next lot'll tempt you, <i>I'</i>m
sure! Lot 33, a magnificent and very finely executed dramatic group out
of the "<i>Merchant of Venice</i>," <i>Othello</i> in the act of smothering <i>Desdemona</i>,
both nearly life-size. (<span class="smcap">Assist.</span>, <i>with a sardonic inflection</i>. "<i>Group</i> 'ere,
<i>Gen'lm'n</i>!") What shall we say for this great work by Roccocippi,
Gentlemen? A hundred guineas, just to start us?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The F. B.</span> Can't you put the two figgers up separate?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> You know better than that—being a group, Sir. Come, come,
any one give me a hundred for this magnificent marble group! The
figure of <i>Othello</i> very finely finished, Gentlemen.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[ 24]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">The F. B.</span> I should ha' thought it was <i>her</i> who was the finely finished
one of the two.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> (<i>pained by this levity</i>). Really, Gentlemen, <i>do</i> 'ave more
appreciation of a 'igh-class work like this!... Twenty-five guineas?...
Nonsense! I can't put it up at that.</p>
<p class="center">[<i>Bidding languishes. Lot withdrawn.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Second Disinterested Dealer</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">First D. D.</span>, <i>in an undertone</i>). I
wouldn't tell every one, but I shouldn't like to see <i>you</i> stay 'ere and waste
your time; so, in case you <i>was</i> thinking of waiting for that last lot, I may
just as well mention—</p>
<p class="center">[<i>Whispers.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">First D. D.</span> Ah, it's <i>that</i> way, is it? Much obliged to you for the
'int. But I'd do the same for you any day.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Second D. D.</span> I'm <i>sure</i> yer would!</p>
<p class="center">[<i>They watch one another suspiciously.</i></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Auct.</span> Now 'ere's a tasteful thing, Gentlemen. Lot. 41. "<i>Nymph
eating Oysters</i>" ("<i>Nymph 'ere, Gen'lm'n!</i>"), by the celebrated Italian
artist Vabene, one of the finest works of Art in this room, and they're <i>all</i>
exceedingly fine works of Art; but this is a <i>truly</i> work of Art, Gentlemen.
What shall we say for her, eh? (<i>Silence.</i>) Why, Gentlemen, no more
appreciation than <i>that</i>? Come, don't be afraid of it. Make a beginning.
(<i>Bidding starts.</i>) Forty-five guineas. Forty-six—<i>pounds</i>. Forty-six
pounds only, this remarkable specimen of modern Italian Art. Forty-six
and a 'arf. Only forty-six ten bid for it. Give character to any gentleman's
collection, a figure like this would. Forty-seven <i>pounds</i>—<i>guineas</i>!
and a 'arf.... Forty-seven and a 'arf guineas.... For the last time!
Bidding with you, Sir. Forty-seven guineas and a 'arf—Gone! Name,
Sir, if <i>you</i> please. Oh, money? Very well. Thank you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Proud Purchaser</span> (<i>to Friend, in excuse for his extravagance</i>). You
see, I must have something for that grotto I've got in the grounds.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">His Friend.</span> If she was mine, I should put her in the hall, and have
a gaslight fitted in the oyster-shell.</p>
<p>P. P. (<i>thoughtfully</i>). Not a bad idea. But electric light would be
more suitable, and easier to fix too. Yes—we'll see.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[ 25]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Obl. Broker</span> (<i>pursuing the</i> <span class="smcap">Am. Spect.</span>). I 'ope, Sir, you'll
remember me, next time you're this way.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Am. Spect.</span> (<i>who has only ransomed himself by taking over an
odd lot, consisting of imitation marble fruit, a model, under crystal, of the
Leaning Tower of Pisa, and three busts of Italian celebrities of whom he has
never heard</i>). I'm afraid I sh'an't have very much chance of forgetting
you. <i>Good</i> afternoon!</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />