Punch: Punch (100.1891)

S3 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [February 21, 1891.

HOW IT'S DONE.

(A Handbook to Honesty.)
No. VIII.—"SOLD AGAIN!"

Scene—An Auction-room, breathing an air of solid, if somewhat
Philistinish suburban comfort and respectability. Amidst a
labyrinthine accumulation of household furniture, a number
of people are dispersed, many of them substantial-looking
middle-class male and female " buyers" toith lists and lead-
pencils, on the look-out for " bargains," a sprinkling of the
ancient race, and an outer fringe of casual, lounging, lookers-
on. The gentleman in the rostrum is a voluble personage, toith a
rapidly roving eye, of preternatural quickness in picking up
"bids," Attendants, shaggy men, in soiled shirt-sleeves, icith saw-
dusty whiskers, and husky voices. A pleasant-faced Pater-
familias, and his "Good lady," are discovered inspecting a
solidly-built, well-seasoned, age-toned chest of mahogany drawers.
Paterfamilias (sotto voce). Just what you want, my dear, as far as

I can see. "What do you think ?
Materfamilias. I like the look of them much, John. None of

your new, cheap, thinly-veneered, blown-together rubbish, smelling

of shavings and French-polish. Solid ma'ogany, every bit; the
drawers run as smoothly as could be wished, and—see ! if there ain't
actually some sprigs of dry lavender still a laying in 'em!

Paterfamilias {decidedly). Just so, my dear. I shall certainly bid
for them. [Marks his catalogue vigorously.

Auctioneer {dropping his hammer smartly). Soldi Remove the
first-class feather-bed, Sam. Buyer o' that has a bargain!
{Nodding_ blandly to pleased purchaser.) Really the prices at
which things are going to-night are ruinous! 'Owever, there's
no reserve, and the lucky public gets the pull. The next article,
Ladies and Gents, No. 471, is a very superior, well-made,
fully-seasoned, solid Spanish ma'oganv chest of drawers. Chest
o' drawers, Sam ! ( To Paterfamilias.) Would you mind standing a
inch or so aside, Sir ? Thanks ! There they are, Ladies and Gentle-
men, open to hinspection, and warranted to bear it. An unusually
excellent lot, fit for the sleeping-apartment of a prince, at a price
within the means of a pork-butcher. {Laughter.) Oh, it's
righteous, Gents. No 'umbug about me. There's quality, if you
like. Well worth a ten-pun note. What shall I have the pleasure
of saying for this very superior article? 'Ow much for the chest
o' drawers ? Who bids for the ma'ogany chest ? Thirty shillings.
Thank you, Sir! Any advance on thirty shillings ? Thirty-five !
And sixl Thirty-five-and-six for this very desirable little lot!
Worth five times the amount, Ladies, as you know ! What do you
think, Mum ? [To Materfamilias, ivho smiles vaguely, and looks at
her husband.

Paterfamilias. Two pounds I [Feels he has made an impression.

Auctioneer. Two pounds! {Confidentially to P.) Your good
lady knows a good bit o' stuff when she sees it, Sir ! Two pounds
for the chest! Two pounds I Any advance on a couple o' pounds ?
All done at two pounds ? Going at two pounds ! {Meeting silence,
pretends to hear another bid.) Two-pun-ten! Quite right, Sir!
Very foolish to lose such a superior harticle for a pound or two.
Going at two-pun-ten ! Lar&t time, two-pun ten I Going—going —
g-

Paterfamilias (hastily). Two-fifteen !

Auctioneer {cheerily). Two-fifteen! {Taking other imaginary

bids.) Three-pounds! Three-five! {Thank you, Madam.) Three-
ten! Going at three-ten! Last time, three-ten! {To Pater-
familias.) Are you going to lose it, Sir? Worth double, I assure
you ! Ask your good lady !

Materfamilias {aside). Bid three-fifteen, John, but not a penny
more!

Paterfamilias {weakly). Three-fifteen!

Auctioneer. Three-fifteen! Four! Going at four! Last time at
four! All done, four! Going, going—gone! {Drops hammer.)
Sold at four pounds, Sam ! {Looks round.) Who bid four ?

[No response, as the last bid was imaginary.

Sam {huskily). Gen'l'man as bid four jest slipped bout, Sir.

Auctioneer {tartly). Tut—tut—tut! Too bad, really. Well, Sir,
then I must take your bid. Sold to this Gentleman, Sam, at Three-
fifteen !

[Paterfamilias, highly pleased, pays deposit, and arranges to
send for his bargain in the morning. As he and his "good
lady " leave, they notice close by, three men toith barrows,
each bearing a blazingly red and strongly-smelling chest of
drawers. Materfamilias complacently remarks on the mani-
fest superiority of the article they have purchased, to " that
red rubbish.'''' Next morning they receive, instead of their
own " bargain," one of those identical brand-new, badly-
made, unseasoned, thinly-veneered "shop 'uns," which are
"blown together" by the gross for such purposes. They
protest, but vainly, notwithstanding their true assertion that
the drawers they received contain "fresh shavings" instead
of the " sprigs of blooming lavender" they had observed in
those they thought they had purchased. Paterfamilias, a
week later, looking in at the Auction-room, sees what he
could swear to be the very chest of drawers he had pur-
chased being " sold again " in a similar fashion.

"MY PRETTY JANUS, OH NEVER LOOK SO SHY!"

Augustus Druriolanus is greater than ever. It is the peniten-
tial season of Lent; some excellent persons renounce all worldly
amusements; others, not quite so excellent, and both lots thinking,
it may be, no small
beer of themselves, we
may term the first lot
Treble Excellent and
the second Double Ex-
cellent—the latter
division think that con-
certs possibly, sacred
concerts certainly, and
certain other forms of
mild and non-theatri-
cal entertainments, are
of a sufficiently severe
character to constitute,
as it were, a form of
discipline. Then there
are the larger propor-
tion of those "who,"
as Mrs. Malaprop
would say, '' 1 care for
none of these things,'
like Galileo, my dear,"
and who inquire.
"What is the state of
the odds as long as we
think we're happy?"
and who would indulge
in balls and theatres,
and in every other form
of amusement, while
such pursuits afforded

them, or seemed to Janus Druriolanus.

sure"1 ToThefetsec- Suggestion for Costume at another Masked Ball.
tion, i.e., the "unco guid," Druriolanus has nothing to offer, not
even a course of sermons by popular preachers ; but to the two others
he has much to say. For these, last Saturday, he commenced the
first of his series of Lenten Oratorios at Covent Garden—it was the
14th of February, and this was his Valentine—and on the 17th, i.e.,
the Tuesday afterwards, having made, so to speak, a clean sweep of
everything serious, out he comes with his Fancy Dress and Masked
Ball. Elijah the Prophet, on Saturday, in the Covent Garden Calendar,
must be reckoned among the " minor profits," seeing that the biggest
profit would be found in the Bal Masque on Tuesday. Over
the doors should be the motto, " Festina Lente," whereof the
Druriolanian translation must be, " Keep it up in Lent." Ave
Janus Druriolanus !