Scene—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.

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 sha'n'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.

Mr. Middleman (to the Amiable Spectator, who has been vaguely inspecting the "Pill-taker"). 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 'em to-morrow, upon my word and honour, I could. Ah, and I know who'd give it me for 'em, too!

The A. S. (sympathetically). Dear me, then you've done very well over it.

Mr. M. Ah, well ain't the word—and those two aren't the only lots I've got either. That "Sandwich-Man" over there is mine—look at the work in those boards, and the nature in his clay pipe; and "The Boot-Black," that's mine, too—all worth twice what I got 'em for—and lovely things, too, ain't they?

The A. S. Oh, very nice, very clever—congratulate you, I'm sure.

Mr. M. 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. (The A. S. feebly disclaims any desire to take advantage of this magnanimous offer.) Don't say No, if you mean Yes, Sir. Will you 'ave "The Pill-taker," Sir?

The A. S. (politely). Thank you very much, but—er—I think not.

Mr. M. Then perhaps you could do with "The Little Boot-Black," or "The Sandwich-Man," Sir?

The A. S. Perhaps—but I could do still better without them.

[He moves to another part of the room.

The Obl. Broker (whispering beerily in his ear). Seen anythink yet as takes your fancy, Sir; 'cos, if so—

[The A. S. escapes to a dark corner—where he is warmly welcomed by Mr. Middleman.

Mr. M. Knew you'd think better on it, Sir. Now which is it to be—the "Boot-Black," or "Mixture as Before"?

Auct. Now we come to Lot 19. Massive fluted column in coral marble with revolving-top—a column, Gentlemen, which will speak for itself.

The Facetious Bidder (after a scrutiny). Then it may as well mention, while it's about it, that it's got a bit out of its back!

Auct. Flaw in the marble, that's all. (To Assist.) Nothing the matter with the column, is there?

Assist. (with reluctant candour). Well, it 'as got a little chipped, Sir.

Auct. (easily). Oh, very well then, we'll sell it "A. F." Very glad it was found out in time, I'm sure. [Bidding proceeds.

First Dealer to Second (in a husky whisper). Talkin' o' Old Masters, I put young 'Anway up to a good thing the other day.

Second D. (without surprise—probably from a knowledge of his friend's noble unselfish nature). Ah—'ow was that?

First D. 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'. (The other nods with complete intelligence.) 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 look at it," I told him. And I run against him yesterday, Wardour Street way, and I sez, "Did yer go and see 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 shake 'ands with me over it?"

Second D. (interested). And did he?

First D. Yes, he did—he beyaved very fair over the matter, I will say that for him.

Second D. Oh, 'Anway's a very decent little feller—now.

Auct. (hopefully). Now, Gentlemen, this next lot'll tempt you, I'm sure! Lot 33, a magnificent and very finely executed dramatic group out of the "Merchant of Venice," Othello in the act of smothering Desdemona, both nearly life-size. (Assist., with a sardonic inflection. "Group 'ere, Gen'lm'n!") What shall we say for this great work by Roccocippi, Gentlemen? A hundred guineas, just to start us?

The F. B. Can't you put the two figgers up separate?

Auct. 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 Othello very finely finished, Gentlemen.

The F. B. I should ha' thought it was her who was the finely finished one of the two.

Auct. (pained by this levity). Really, Gentlemen, do 'ave more appreciation of a 'igh-class work like this!... Twenty-five guineas?... Nonsense! I can't put it up at that.

[Bidding languishes. Lot withdrawn.

Second Disinterested Dealer (to First D. D., in an undertone). I wouldn't tell every one, but I shouldn't like to see you stay 'ere and waste your time; so, in case you was thinking of waiting for that last lot, I may just as well mention—

[Whispers.

First D. D. Ah, it's that way, is it? Much obliged to you for the 'int. But I'd do the same for you any day.

Second D. D. I'm sure yer would!

[They watch one another suspiciously.

Auct. Now 'ere's a tasteful thing, Gentlemen. Lot. 41. "Nymph eating Oysters" ("Nymph 'ere, Gen'lm'n!"), by the celebrated Italian artist Vabene, one of the finest works of Art in this room, and they're all exceedingly fine works of Art; but this is a truly work of Art, Gentlemen. What shall we say for her, eh? (Silence.) Why, Gentlemen, no more appreciation than that? Come, don't be afraid of it. Make a beginning. (Bidding starts.) Forty-five guineas. Forty-six—pounds. 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 pounds—guineas! 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 you please. Oh, money? Very well. Thank you.

Proud Purchaser (to Friend, in excuse for his extravagance). You see, I must have something for that grotto I've got in the grounds.

His Friend. If she was mine, I should put her in the hall, and have a gaslight fitted in the oyster-shell.

P. P. (thoughtfully). Not a bad idea. But electric light would be more suitable, and easier to fix too. Yes—we'll see.

The Obl. Broker (pursuing the Am. Spect.). I 'ope, Sir, you'll remember me, next time you're this way.

The Am. Spect. (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'm afraid I sh'an't have very much chance of forgetting you. Good afternoon!

[Exit hurriedly, dropping the fruit, as Scene closes.