"It's not a thing I would put in my drawing-room," said Mrs. Mawmsey,

audibly, for the warning of the rash husband. "I wonder at Mrs.

Larcher. Every blessed child's head that fell against it would be cut

in two. The edge is like a knife."

"Quite true," rejoined Mr. Trumbull, quickly, "and most uncommonly

useful to have a fender at hand that will cut, if you have a leather

shoe-tie or a bit of string that wants cutting and no knife at hand:

many a man has been left hanging because there was no knife to cut him

down. Gentlemen, here's a fender that if you had the misfortune to

hang yourselves would cut you down in no time--with astonishing

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celerity--four-and-sixpence--five--five-and-sixpence--an appropriate

thing for a spare bedroom where there was a four-poster and a guest a

little out of his mind--six shillings--thank you, Mr. Clintup--going

at six shillings--going--gone!" The auctioneer's glance, which had

been searching round him with a preternatural susceptibility to all

signs of bidding, here dropped on the paper before him, and his voice

too dropped into a tone of indifferent despatch as he said, "Mr.

Clintup. Be handy, Joseph."

"It was worth six shillings to have a fender you could always tell that

joke on," said Mr. Clintup, laughing low and apologetically to his next

neighbor. He was a diffident though distinguished nurseryman, and

feared that the audience might regard his bid as a foolish one.

Meanwhile Joseph had brought a trayful of small articles. "Now,

ladies," said Mr. Trumbull, taking up one of the articles, "this tray

contains a very recherchy lot--a collection of trifles for the

drawing-room table--and trifles make the sum _of_ human things--nothing

more important than trifles--(yes, Mr. Ladislaw, yes, by-and-by)--but

pass the tray round, Joseph--these bijoux must be examined, ladies.

This I have in my hand is an ingenious contrivance--a sort of

practical rebus, I may call it: here, you see, it looks like an elegant

heart-shaped box, portable--for the pocket; there, again, it becomes

like a splendid double flower--an ornament for the table; and now"--Mr.

Trumbull allowed the flower to fall alarmingly into strings of

heart-shaped leaves--"a book of riddles! No less than five hundred

printed in a beautiful red. Gentlemen, if I had less of a conscience,

I should not wish you to bid high for this lot--I have a longing for

it myself. What can promote innocent mirth, and I may say virtue, more

than a good riddle?--it hinders profane language, and attaches a man to

the society of refined females. This ingenious article itself, without

the elegant domino-box, card-basket, &c., ought alone to give a high

price to the lot. Carried in the pocket it might make an individual

welcome in any society. Four shillings, sir?--four shillings for this

remarkable collection of riddles with the et caeteras. Here is a

sample: 'How must you spell honey to make it catch lady-birds?

Answer--money.' You hear?--lady-birds--honey money. This is an

amusement to sharpen the intellect; it has a sting--it has what we call

satire, and wit without indecency. Four-and-sixpence--five shillings."




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