“One seventy-five,” came from another.

“Too much,” the auctioneer cried.  “The parish can’t stand that.”

“One fifty, then.”

“That’s better, Joe.  Try again.  You’re a long way off yet.”

“I’ll take the critter fer one hundred dollars, and not a cent less.”

At these emphatic words all turned and stared hard at the speaker.  A perceptible shiver passed through the bystanders, while several muttered protests were heard.

“Oh, I hope he won’t get him, anyway,” Mrs. Munson whispered to a neighbour.  “Jim Goban isn’t a fit man to look after a snake, and if he gets Crazy David in his clutches may God have mercy upon the poor old man.”

“One hundred dollars I am offered,” again the voice of the auctioneer rang out.  “Can any one do better than that?  One hundred dollars.  Going at one hundred dollars.  I shan’t dwell.  One—­hundred—­dollars—­and—­sold to Jim Goban for one hundred dollars.”

This inhuman traffic did not seriously affect the people who had gathered for the auction.  When it was over, they quickly dispersed, to discuss with one another about the life Jim Goban would lead Crazy David.  It was an incident of only a passing moment, and mattered little more to them than if it had been a horse or a cow which had been sold instead of a poor feeble old man.

It was the custom which had been going on for years, and it was the only way they could see out of the difficult problem of dealing with paupers.

When Jim Goban reached home with his purchase, dinner was ready.  There were five young Gobans who stared curiously upon David as he took his seat at the table.  Mrs. Goban was a thin-face, tired looking woman who deferred to her husband in everything.  There was nothing else for her to do, as she had found out shortly after their marriage what a brute he was.

David was pleased at the presence of the children and he often turned his eyes upon them.

“Nice children,” he at length remarked, speaking for the first time since his arrival.

“So ye think they’re nice, do ye?” Jim queried, leaning over and looking the old man in the eyes.

“Why, yes,” David replied, shrinking back somewhat from the coarse face.  “All children are nice to me, but yours are especially fine ones.  What nice hair they have, and such beautiful eyes.  I suppose the oldest go to school.”

“Naw.  They never saw the inside of a school house.”

“You don’t say so!” and David looked his astonishment.  “Surely there must be a school near here.”

“Oh, yes, there’s a school all right, but they’ve never gone.  I don’t set any store by eddication.  What good is it to any one, I’d like to know?  Will it help a man to hoe a row of pertaters, or a woman to bake bread?  Now, look at me.  I’ve no eddication, an’ yit I’ve got a good place here, an’ a bank account.  You’ve got eddication, so I understand, an’ what good is it to you?  I’m one of the biggest tax-payers in the parish, an’ you, why yer nothing but a pauper, the Devil’s Poor.”