Obliging Broker (to Amiable Spectator, who has come in out of curiosity, and without the remotest intention of purchasing sculpture). No Catlog, Sir?  ’Ere, allow me to orfer you mine—­that’s my name in pencil on the top of it, Sir; and, if you should ’appen to see any lot that takes your fancy, you jest ketch my eye. (Reassuringly.) I shan’t be fur off.  Or look ’ere, gimme a nudge—­I shall know what it means.

    [The A.S. thanks him profusely, and edges away with an
    inward vow to avoid his and the Auctioneer’s eyes, as he
    would those of a basilisk.

Auctioneer (from desk, with the usual perfunctory fervour).  Lot 13, Gentlemen, very charming pair of subjects from child life—­“The Pricked Finger” and “The Scratched Toe”—­by BIMBI.

A Stolid Assistant (in shirtsleeves).  Figgers ’ere, Gen’lm’n!

    [Languid surge of crowd towards them.

A Facetious Bidder.  Which of ’em’s the finger, and which the toe?

Auct. (coldly).  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?

A Grubby Man.  Give yer five.

Auct. (with grieved resignation).  Very well, start ’em at five.  Any advance on five? (To Assist.) 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 you, Mr. GRIMES? (The Grubby Man admits the soft impeachment.) Seven and a ’arf.  Eight!  It’s against you.

Mr. Grimes (with a supreme effort).  Two-and-six!

    [Mops his brow with a red cotton handkerchief.

Auct. (in a tone of gratitude for the smallest mercies).  Eight-ten-six.  All done at eight-ten-six?  Going ... gone!  GRIMES, Eight, ten, six.  Take money for ’em.  Now we come to a very ’andsome work by PIFFALINI—­“The Ocarina Player,” one of this great artist’s masterpieces, and an exceedingly choice and high-class work, as you will all agree directly you see it. (To Assist.) Now, then, Lot 14, there—­look sharp!

Stolid Assist. “Hocarina Plier,” eyn’t arrived, Sir.

Auct. Oh, hasn’t it?  Very well, then.  Lot 15. “The Pretty Pill-taker,” by ANTONIO BILIO—­a really magnificent work of Art, Gentlemen. ("Pill-taker, ’ere!” from the S.A.) What’ll you give me for her?  Come, make me an offer. (Bidding proceeds till the “Pill-taker” is knocked down for twenty-three-and-a-half guineas.) Lot 16, “The Mixture as Before,” by same artist—­make a charming and suitable companion to the last lot.  What do you say, Mr. MIDDLEMAN—­take it at the same bidding? (Mr. M. assents, with the end of one eyebrow.) Any advance on twenty-three and a ’arf?  None?  Then.—­MIDDLEMAN, Twenty-four, thirteen, six.