11 - : «y 
 
 
 * 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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CHEAP JOHN’S” 
 AUCTION : 
 
 % Ifarrafitr* ire C]p arts. 
 
 BY 
 
 MATTHEW STRADLING, ; | 
 
 i 
 
 (Author of “The Bar Sinister.” ) 
 
 “ Et ta vertu fait un vacarme 
 Qui ne cesse de in’ assommer.” 
 
 Moliere. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. 
 
 DUBLIN : HODGES, FOSTER, & CO. 
 
S-l J / 
 
 94 eC 
 A/\ ? 1 a 4~ 
 
 CHEAP JOHN’S” AUCTION. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 There was great beating of drums, together with 
 blowing of trumpets and horns, shrilly w T histles 
 and wheezy clarinets, a rapid assembling of the 
 townsfolk—attracted by excitement, as well as by 
 the inspiring outburst of music—when a huge 
 lumbering Caravan drove up the main street of 
 the town, and halted in a central position of the 
 densest thoroughfare. 
 
 It was a massive waggon, drawn slowly forward 
 by a single toiling donkey. The abject quadruped 
 was obviously overburdened by the ponderous 
 vehicle. Up-hill work indeed it seemed, for his 
 appearance was not sleek or youthful — quite 
 otherwise. Vigour had evidently departed out of 
 him long ago. His hide was coarse, unkempt. 
 Starvation stared open-eyed through those rugged 
 ribs. His straggling legs and doubtful knees were 
 seamed with many a scar; the outline of his form 
 was dislocated, irregular, and a wasting, doleful 
 expression lingered beneath those gummy, down¬ 
 cast eyelids. In truth, a pitiful specimen of an 
 
 *08041 
 
4 “Cheap John's" Auction. 
 
 humble kind, a soul-rending spectacle to look at; 
 for he was not only unequal to his laborious task, 
 but plainly sick at heart of it also. 
 
 No wonder ! he had been tackled to the shafts 
 of this machine now many a year, and the load 
 was not getting lighter with time, nor the work 
 growing easier. Age had so added to the un¬ 
 wieldiness of the vehicle, that it was sensibly 
 becoming more difficult to draw every day* The 
 wheels thereof, the pulleys, and shafts, and axles 
 were always slipping out of order or falling to 
 pieces ; and when repairs were undertaken, dis¬ 
 honest tradesmen were employed, so that the work 
 was often botched, or executed with rotten mate¬ 
 rials. By consequence, the motion of the Caravan 
 became increasingly spasmodic and irregular; 
 until, from the incessant galling of the shaft upon 
 his withers, and the excessive friction of it, the 
 poor animal was fairly worn out, and very weary 
 of his life. He would have kicked the vehicle to 
 pieces long ago, only the spirit had departed out 
 of his heels, and infirmities had beaten him down, 
 and age had broken his pride. 
 
 Yet in* youth this had been a lively and dis¬ 
 tinguished donkey, and had started in many a 
 famous race, before the monotony of incessant 
 toil had deprived him of confidence and nerve, 
 until, in the recklessness of despair, he had be¬ 
 come so accustomed to feel like a mere jade, and 
 
Introduction . 
 
 5 
 
 to lead the life of a drudge, that he had not the 
 heart to dare, nor the energy to endeavour. 
 
 The machine itself seemed also to have tasted 
 the vicissitudes of fortune. Evidently it had in 
 its time passed through the hands of various ad¬ 
 venturous shopmen and showmen, in different or 
 in rival lines of business. Each successive tenant 
 had partially decorated and upholstered it, accord¬ 
 ing to the freaks of his own invention, or the in¬ 
 terests of his trade or enterprise ; so that it was 
 disfigured with a patchwork of miscellaneous 
 colours, and with the unsightly remainder of many 
 a crazy design. The original painting of the 
 structure was quite lost. It was pasted over with 
 so many posters, and advertising sheets of obsolete 
 dates, belonging to the different mountebanks, 
 pedlars, and huxters, who had held short leases, 
 or been tenants from year to year of the property. 
 
 The glue and pasteboard of these posters served 
 to hold the structure of the worn-out wood-work 
 together, and by running the e} 7 e over these old 
 bills, you could gather an outline of the past his¬ 
 tory of the Caravan. 
 
 Pitiful reading this was for the eye of an 
 Englishman to scan; bitter the moral which it 
 preached. For the name of that great lumbering 
 imposition was the British Constitution, and the 
 abject jade tugging hopelessly between its shafts 
 —that thoroughly patient Ass—was called The 
 British Tax-payer. 
 
6 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE AUCTION. 
 
 The present tenant of the old travelling waggon 
 was of that profession which, in provincial towns, 
 villages, and fairs, is called “ Cheap-John.” 
 That is a mixture of huxter, pedlar, and travel¬ 
 ling quack, who sells worthless and dishonest 
 wares to gaping rustics and mechanics. If the 
 goods of this Cheap-John were not of sterling 
 value, they were cheap to look at; and persons of 
 narrow income could, by purchasing at his stall, 
 make-believe to furnish their homes in respecta¬ 
 bility and comfort. It was but make-believe, 
 however. The articles were mere glue and veneer, 
 pinchbeck frippery stuff, composed of worthless 
 shoddy, of every variety of cast-off material. Penny 
 penknives, and copper gold rings, and razors 
 polished to look like steel, and wooden nutmegs, 
 and tin hand-saws—silver articles that were bur¬ 
 nished lead, and frying-pans and sauce-pans made 
 of papier-mache. 
 
 Notwithstanding the trash in which he dealt, 
 this “ Cheap-John”—whose real name was Wil¬ 
 liam—William Goodman—supported a family out 
 of his business, not only procured a living for 
 himself and partners, and all their poor relations 
 and hangers-on, but also stood well with the com- 
 
The Auction . 
 
 7 
 
 pany from which he rented the concern, and was 
 considered a good, even an improving, tenant. 
 This was the result of his constant attention to 
 business, the fruit of his industry and prudence. 
 He was up early and late at the counter; and, if 
 to the world he always kept an open and honest 
 countenance, he was mindful also to provide him¬ 
 self with a working staff of ripe and practised as¬ 
 sociates, who never missed an opportunity of profit, 
 and whose eyes were unrelaxingly fixed on the 
 main chance. 
 
 But it does not follow that a man is necessarily 
 
 *j 
 
 “good,” because he happens to be a good man of 
 business. Nor even though he should have re¬ 
 ceived the name of “ Goodman” at the baptismal 
 font—names sometimes fail in conferring moral 
 qualifications. Yet there was no name which 
 this “Cheap-John” William loved better than 
 his own, no reputation which he desired more to 
 acquire than a character for “goodness.” He 
 preferred his moral character even to his business 
 character—a remarkable phenomenon in one of 
 his vocation. Therefore, in order to preserve his 
 renown untarnished, he avoided as much as pos¬ 
 sible mixing up with the discreditable practices 
 which were inseparable from his dishonest pro¬ 
 fession. He left these things mainly to the petty 
 clerks, to the underlings of the staff; and made 
 a special order, that all the necessary trading lies 
 
8 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ’ Auction. 
 
 were to be told without consulting him, without 
 his knowledge, as it were. That the invoices 
 from the knavish manufacturers of wooden nut¬ 
 megs and brass gold rings were to be hidden away 
 from under his eye altogether, so that he should 
 be able to pledge his word that the goods on sale 
 were of genuine material and honest value, and 
 there might be no hesitation of voice, or quaver¬ 
 ing in his delivery, when auctioning off the trum¬ 
 pery collection. No man should be able to sub¬ 
 stantiate charges of duplicity or deceit against 
 him, William Goodman, or cast a stain upon his 
 superfine good name. 
 
 Moreover, in order to stand better with the 
 world, he was for ever talking in the loftiest 
 strain about “principles and honour,” “the 
 higher aspirations of the species,” “the destiny 
 of human nature,” “the duties and the charities 
 of life,” and similar pulpit phrases, so that it 
 was often as good as a sermon to hear him. 
 Further, he had in hire a gang of touts, and 
 lemon-faced, pious-looking, seedy fellows, in 
 sleek hair, and drab gaiters, and dingy white 
 neckcloths, whose business was to circulate 
 amidst the public, explaining to the customers, 
 in confidential whispers, “What a kind, good 
 man William was, how honest—how religious— 
 how much better than his good name, or even 
 than his goody looks he was.” How he never 
 
 ( • ■ 
 
I 
 
 The Auction . 
 
 9 
 
 went to the public after dark, or smoked tobacco, 
 or bad other nasty habits, but always sat at 
 home in bis slippers in the evening, reading bis 
 Bible, or posting up bis books. 
 
 This system of puffery not only contributed to 
 bis spiritual and moral distinction, but was like¬ 
 wise of use in a business point of view—it helped 
 to work off the pewter coffee-pots, the sham 
 gridirons, and other doubtful wares. Frequently 
 the dupes who found on trial that the cheap spec¬ 
 tacles were only window glass, that the false luci- 
 fers would not light, nor the tin band-saws cut 
 any substance stiffer than porridge, that the over¬ 
 burnished frying-pans would invariably dissolve 
 on merely being shown the kitclien-fire—even 
 these immediate victims never thought of accus¬ 
 ing honest William of being an accessory to the 
 cheat, but would lay all the blame on the vile 
 manufacturers, who did not scruple to impose on 
 the inadvertence of a high-minded shopman with 
 their dishonest utensils. 
 
 The supreme moral position- which William 
 enjoyed was in some measure due also to his 
 physical construction. He was of that build 
 which has always been associated with a certain 
 school of spiritualism. In shape, he was lankey; 
 of complexion, sallow; his head angular and 
 bony; his legs of the very leggy type,*long and 
 irregular. At a glance you should recognize that 
 
10 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction. 
 
 he had, indeed, less of the flesh about him than 
 most other men; his waistcoats shrunk inwards, 
 searching in vain to find something to button on, 
 for apparently he was as bowelless even as that 
 transparent phantom, old Marley’s ghost. 
 
 Like master like man, all his clerks and 
 underlings were lean. The first condition appa¬ 
 rently exacted in an assistant was that he should 
 be long and fine-drawn, that in person he should 
 be modelled like the head of the firm. This gave 
 a severe anti-carnal aspect to the whole proprie¬ 
 tary, which tempted serious people to frequent 
 the counter, and led to business. 
 
 His garments were of formal cut, and in hue 
 inclined to that sacred drab, which fittingly har¬ 
 monized with his dismal countenance, also with 
 the settled gloom of his dreary disposition. But, 
 on occasions he could find spurts of temper; he 
 could, when goaded, become fierce, declamatory, 
 and overbearing. There was a lurking devil in 
 him, which sometimes leaped out through all re¬ 
 straints, and made quick havoc of adversaries, 
 whom it would have been, perhaps, better policy 
 to spare. 
 
 This turbulent sprite often did more mischief 
 in a few reckless moments than the angel 
 Hypocrisy could, wiTi all her industry and pa¬ 
 tience, manage afterwards to repair. This un¬ 
 quenchable spirit, still tenanting the gaunt and 
 
The Auction. 
 
 11 
 
 sombre tabernacle of his person, was a lingering 
 inheritance of youth, for in early clays he had 
 been full of vanity and of life like other Phili¬ 
 stines. Handsome, too, it was said; perhaps, 
 also, honest, for time alters the character as well 
 as the features of men. 
 
 However, we shall presently have an oppor¬ 
 tunity of studying his portrait in detail. 
 
 When the Caravan had secured a central posi¬ 
 tion in the street, and the donkey, released from 
 the shafts, had been turned adrift to ruminate 
 over a collection of stale fodder, then the drum¬ 
 sticks began to thwack with renewed vigor, the 
 horns, wdiistles, and clarinets to speak up, and 
 the eager crowd to gather about the platform where 
 William Goodman presently mounted, and com¬ 
 menced business—exhibiting, and puffing, and 
 duly knocking down his wares as purchasers came 
 forward. William had an immense variety of 
 stock; all sorts of incongruous and dissimilar 
 articles were there huddled pell-mell like in the 
 wallet of Antolycus, that immortal pedlar and 
 itinerant scamp, whom Shakespeare has handed 
 down to us. 
 
 “ He had ribands of all the colours in the . 
 rainbow; points more than all the lawyers in 
 Bohemia can learnedly handle—inkles, cadisses, 
 cambrics, lawns.” And those who did not come 
 to buy remained all the same to listen, pressed 
 
12 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction. 
 
 into the crowd in order to derive edification from 
 the exhortation or sermon, which William w r as 
 often in the liahit of delivering in the intervals of 
 business. For again, like Antolycus, “he had a 
 rare gift of persuasion; no bagpipe could move 
 the people faster ; he uttered his w T ords as if he 
 had eaten ballads, and all men’s ears grew to 
 his tunes.” 
 
 It was a motley assemblage which now gathered 
 at foot of the pedlar’s waggon—as incongruous a 
 collection as the miscellany of goods which the 
 showman had himself to offer. Foreigners were 
 there—of distinction, and foreigners of disrepute 
 —and grumblers of every degree, both native and 
 foreign. Malcontents, too, in numbers—persons 
 who had previously purchased goods at the stall, 
 and who now came with sullen faces to reproach 
 this irreproachable auctioneer, for having cheated 
 them of their money. 
 
 This made it an exceptionally trying occasion, 
 and William, who appreciated the temper of the 
 people, and also the danger of the situation, felt 
 ill at ease. His ordinary assurance evaporated; 
 oven his conscience gave twinges; he grew ner¬ 
 vous, hesitating in his movements, the long drab 
 legs began to have a yielding sensation at the 
 knees. Though habitually arrogant to infe¬ 
 riors and dependants, William was by no means 
 gifted with enduring physical courage. He could 
 
The Auction. 
 
 13 
 
 be audacious, resolute, uncompromising upon 
 some affair of trifling moment; but he often failed 
 simply for want of sufficient audacity at the crisis 
 of a great occasion. That fatal inconsistency was 
 either in his nature, or else it arose from the na¬ 
 ture of his occupation ; the shifty and uncertain 
 requirements of the latter kept his mind in a 
 chronic state of nervousness and instability; he 
 was ever haunted by evil presentiments, by fear 
 that an angry crowd might some day rush in—- 
 disperse his partners and his company, scatter 
 the contents of the waggon, and at a stroke de¬ 
 molish his business and his reputation. 
 
 Nevertheless, he proceeded with apparent stea¬ 
 diness this forenoon, although as it advanced mat¬ 
 ters did not improve, few real sales were effected,, 
 and sometimes jeering, uncomplimentary expres¬ 
 sions of a personal nature would burst from the 
 audience like lightning shafts from the skirts of 
 a storm-cloud. It disconcerted him considerably 
 his eager eye wandered furtively in search of a 
 policeman, with a secret hope that some member 
 of the force would be found in readiness in case 
 of emergency. But what gave him deep annoyance, 
 and caused most interruption also, was the per¬ 
 verse conduct of a Jew of foreign extraction, who 
 w T as called Ben—Ben Trovato —as if his very 
 existence was merely a party devise or invention. 
 This personage had climbed to the crosstree of a 
 
14 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction. 
 
 lamp-post, right in face of William; so that the 
 Jew’s curly head was raised to the level of his own, 
 and could be equally well seen by all present. 
 When this underbred Israelite chose to indulge 
 his impish propensities, either by making sucking 
 noises with his tongue wdiile William was speak¬ 
 ing, or by vulgar school-hoy gestures with his 
 hands, or by calling out in shrilly tones, emitting 
 harsh catcalls, as is the habit of theatrical Olym¬ 
 pians, then the people underneath and around 
 would often spitefully applaud the Jew. 
 
 Trifling as it seemed, this annoyance was hard 
 to hear, because William knew this Jew to he 
 a dishonest person, that he was merely malicious, 
 instigated by mean motives of interest, and that 
 he was jealous of him, William, as much for his 
 superior goodness as for the good business which 
 he had succeeded in establishing. 
 
 This very Jew had, indeed, at one time rented 
 the identical Caravan and tried, a short time, 
 at being a “ Clieap-John,” too; but he had no 
 high moral exterior to carry him through. He 
 could not get up the orthodox nasal tones, or in¬ 
 duce serious persons to take to him, so the spe¬ 
 culation broke down, and ended in bankruptcy. 
 It was, on this account, bad taste of him, to play 
 at dog in the manger, and try to spoil for another 
 what he could not enjoy for himself—so William 
 thought, at least. 
 
The Auction. 
 
 15 
 
 Finding the audience not disposed to be com¬ 
 plimentary, and that neither his popularity nor 
 his sales were up to the ordinary average, William 
 began to search for something with which to make 
 a lead, and win the crowd back into better temper. 
 He was lucky in finding exactly what was wanted, 
 and triumphantly produced the model of a young 
 and beautiful princess, dressed in richest satins, 
 lacquered all over with diamonds, laces, ribbons, 
 pompons, and looking so fresh and happy, that 
 the audience should, per force, soften at the 
 sight, and as he held the pretty thing on high 
 in one hand, with the other he cleverly presented, 
 at the same moment, a dashing youth in kilt and 
 philibeg, with his hair thrown back, and a bold 
 and defiant air, as is the fashion with chieftains of 
 high degree. 
 
 Probably, because it has also become the fashion 
 with youth of birth, this gentleman had one hand 
 on his heart, and the other in his pocket, which 
 attitude gave him rather an awkward and unge¬ 
 nerous air, some persons in the crowd laughed 
 broadly at the ridiculous posture of a man in a 
 kilt with a hand in his pocket. 
 
 But a strong voice exclaimed— 
 
 “ Seldom those of his nation have pockets of 
 their own at all, but are constantly thrusting 
 * their hungry paws into other men’s.” 
 
 William Goodman, not heeding, declared that 
 
 f 
 
16 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction. 
 
 the pair seemed made for each other; that he 
 would not consent to divide them; that they 
 should go off in a pair or not at all. 
 
 Whereupon the same rough voice cried out— 
 
 “Have a care ! if the Scot gets a hold of the 
 princess, perhaps he will sell her, as his country¬ 
 men once did their king to the “ Commonwealth ” 
 •for thirty pieces of silver/’ 
 
 . “ Aye ! the Scotch are far o’er canny,” ex¬ 
 claimed many tongues together. 
 
 This touched William on a sensitive point. 
 
 “ I am Scotch myself, and no man can say that 
 I am o’er canny,” he answered sharply. “I 
 think my recent speeches and my recent acts 
 prove that; yet I am of Scotch descent by both 
 parents; every drop of blood in my veins is 
 Scotch, and I glory in possessing all the distinc¬ 
 tive characteristics of my race.” 
 
 “Like enough. But have you ‘ an itching 
 palm ?’ ” inquired a gentleman in a broad- 
 brimmed hat, thrusting forward towards the plat¬ 
 form with self-asserting coolness. 
 
 “Oh! Mr. Doodle; that is scarcely polite. It 
 is not good manners to say so—at least, in pub¬ 
 lic,” exclaimed several people together, addressing 
 the speaker, hut making way for him respect- 
 
 fully- 
 
 “ I did’nt mean it literal, you illiterate cusses,” 
 exclaimed the new-comer, whose appearance and 
 
The Auction. 
 
 17 
 
 / 
 
 9 
 
 manner at once declared his nationality. “ I 
 meant nothing but Shakespeare. I say, sair,” 
 addressing the auctioneer, “ have you ‘ an itching 
 palm?’ We know for certain that you do not 
 ‘ sell and mart your offices for gold to unde- 
 servers’—although that is an uncommon strong 
 Scotch peculiarity, tew, according to my reckon¬ 
 ing.” 
 
 “ The other day, for instance, when I was on 
 a business stump in Aberdeen,” William Good¬ 
 man continued, not heeding the interruption. 
 
 “ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, and cold shoulder in 
 Dublin,” observed the Jew Trovato, in an under 
 tone. 
 
 “When I was on the stump in Aberdeen, I 
 made a speech”- 
 
 “ It was none o’ the newest, poor John’—that 
 speech—Shakespeare again, ain’t it?” said Mr. 
 Yankee Doodle. 
 
 “ I made a speech that, I flatter myself, had a 
 certain flavour”- 
 
 “ An ancient and a fish-like smell—more 
 Shakespeare,” repeated the Yankee. 
 
 “ Oh ! herrings !” ejaculated the Jew. 
 
 “ A certain flavour of sincerity and truth, and if 
 I had beep o’er canny, as you say those of my nation 
 are, I should not have made that speech. You’ll 
 all agree to that* I think,” added William, as the. 
 Jew Trovato chuckled, and the people laughed ; 
 
 B 
 
18 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction. 
 
 “but I made that speech, imprudent as it was, 
 because impelled by the promptings of conscience, 
 and by the higher impulses of my nature, to de¬ 
 clare the open truth ; because impelled to it by 
 principle, and in every matter of business, prin¬ 
 ciple and truth will be found the only forces 
 which motive the action of your humble servant, 
 William Goodman.” 
 
 “ Hear ! hear !” applauded Trovato. 
 
 Having come to this full stop, William slipped 
 the young prince and princess swiftly under the 
 table out of the way, for he saw there were under¬ 
 bred roughs and low radicals present, to whom the 
 sight of a beautiful princess and noble young 
 gentlemen were positive objects of aversion. 
 
 Yet it was necessary to conciliate these inferior 
 persons, whom, in his tradesman’s heart, he 
 deeply abominated ; so, in order to excite the love 
 which the vulgar experience for military display, 
 and, if possible, to reanimate sentiments of 
 patriotism amongst these proleterian classes, Wil¬ 
 liam took out many boxes of soldiers, one after the 
 other; troops of every regiment, degree, and 
 pattern : horse, foot, dragoons, marines, militia, 
 volunteers, all jumbled pell-mell, with swords 
 and bayonets to match, gunpowder, cannon ball, 
 and cartridges, like those which go to the furnish¬ 
 ing of real fighting armies. 
 
 At this martial exhibition, however, the audience 
 
The Auction . 
 
 19 
 
 perversely grew more bitterly critical than before, 
 and the Jew on the lamp-post put many awk¬ 
 ward and disrespectful queries to William, con¬ 
 cerning the merit of his forces, and their capa¬ 
 bilities for executing manoeuvres in the field. . 
 This annoyed Goodman, though he answered 
 every question in a sweet voice, and to the best 
 of his ability. But the evil-minded Jew, not 
 content, kept repeating aloud, “that what William 
 said was humbug ; that these soldiers were only 
 
 paper, and could never stand in battle array'; 
 
 * 
 
 that the plumes in the cocked hats were bunches 
 of white feathers; the cannon balls, balls of 
 wax; and that the gunpowder would not blaze.” 
 These remarks began to bear fruit; for many 
 voices addressed William in harsh tones, enquiring 
 if these were not the very soldiers which had split 
 asunder when exposed to the sun, and melted 
 wdien put under the weather—trumpery, unsub¬ 
 stantial toys, fit for the amusement of ser¬ 
 vant-maids and children, but quite useless to 
 hard-working men who expect value for their 
 money. 
 
 “How many boxes of these soldiers have you 
 lying by in stock, and how many can you find 
 ready to dispose of at a moment’s notice ?” asked 
 a voice. 
 
 William replied, mentioning a large number. 
 
 But the crowd laughed scornfully; and the Jew 
 
20 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 added, that even if true, the boxes were tied up 
 so fast in red tape, that their contents could never 
 be got at, or he unpacked in time, if they came to 
 be wanted in a hurry; that the men were in one 
 box, the horses in another, the bridles and saddles 
 and accoutrements all jumbled up in out-of-the- 
 way drawers; so that nothing under a miracle 
 could set things straight. 
 
 But William, who was losing temper, cried out, 
 that not only were the troops good soldiers, but 
 that they would he found ready ones, too, in time 
 of need—that they were fac-similes of the troops 
 which had marched under the sun through Indian 
 plains, and camped in Crimean ice, and penetrated 
 the unexplored fastnesses of Abyssinia—men who 
 could stand to their guns as well as ever—and 
 that, in addition, he had a nicely-painted assort¬ 
 ment of steam-boat models and of armour-plated 
 ships, to offer along with the troops—all sterling- 
 value. 
 
 As he let slip the word “ ships,” there arose 
 such uproar, above which, the Jew might he heard 
 calling out “ Megaera ! Captain ! Megaera !” 
 
 With the ready instinct of a tradesman, Wil¬ 
 liam recognized his blunder. So he cleverly turned 
 in the nick of time, and instead of the honey¬ 
 combed and expensive specimens of naval archi¬ 
 tecture which he was about to draw forth from 
 the basket, he, with a sudden movement, pulled 
 

 
 The Auction. 21 
 
 out a large parti-coloured flag, which was rolled up • 
 
 ,among the shavings at the bottom of an old band- 
 box filled with lumber at the back of the platform. 
 
 “ Now,” thought he, “ if any object will excite 
 their patriotism and stifle discontent, this is the 
 thing.” And without a pause—for his temper was 
 getting up—he let slip the bunting with a sort of 
 jerk out of his hand, and its heavy folds one by 
 one unfurled, and rolling down over the table, 
 where the little soldiers, and cannon, and things, 1 
 were placed, upset them in all directions. 
 
 If the military furniture which littered the 
 platform looked mean before, it appeared doubly 
 insignificant now, by contrast with the great pat¬ 
 tern of the flag, and William Goodman made 
 matters worse by crying aloud as he moved it to 
 and fro— 
 
 “ See ! There she goes—the ensign of our 
 fatherland—‘ The flag that braved a thousand 
 years,’ ” &c., &c. The quotation was not over 
 fresh, but it sounded appropriate, and the people, 
 if disposed, might have caught fire, but they were 
 not in a mood to be inflamed. Again our sales¬ 
 man had miscalculated. 
 
 A hush came over the grouped faces as they 
 stood round the platform, looking at that symbol 
 of national pride. It was their own, and they 
 loved it. An incense of old battle-smoke rose up 
 from its folds that maddened them. 
 
22 “ Cheap John's ” Auction. 
 
 Well they knew the history of that standard, 
 the traditions of its renown. Their fathers had 
 told of the glories which it had won, of the laurels 
 gathered abroad, of the bloody encounters through 
 which that brave ensign had passed. How at 
 home liberty was won beneath its folds at Pamny- 
 mede ; and abroad, how Scot and Dane, Flem¬ 
 ing and Gaul, and Spaniard, had in succession 
 gone down before it. How, in the old days, 
 wherever a keel could float, British topmasts had 
 borne it, sjunbol of England's power and pride, 
 and conquered-right to rule the sea. 
 
 How it stung the people to see that blood¬ 
 stained banner prostituted for the mean ends of 
 a pedlar’s traffic; basely used to win a cheer for 
 shams, and puff the trumpery wares of Goodman 
 and his company. 
 
 William turned pale on perceiving the mute 
 earnestness, the knitted brows, the solemn faces. 
 This was not the sort of patriotic sentiment 
 which he had expected to evoke. 
 
 But if he disliked the turn of affairs, the other 
 partners of the concern, standing by, liked it less; 
 and one of the chief of these, a doubtful charac¬ 
 ter, who had been much in Australia, and who, 
 because of certain peculiarities, was nick-named 
 Lucifer, came close to William, and whispered 
 that he had been making mistakes all the morn¬ 
 ing, but had put the finishing stroke to it now ; 
 
The Auction. 
 
 23 
 
 adding, that the drums and whistles should at 
 once strike up some lively air to divert people, 
 and prevent them from turning sullen and dan¬ 
 gerous. 
 
 William had much respect for the opinion of 
 this Lucifer, who v T as a first-rate man of busi¬ 
 ness, and, in accordance with the suggestion, 
 was about to give the order to the musicians, 
 when music of another kind suddenly startled 
 them all—a great crashing sound came from the 
 corner of a street hard by. 
 
 “ The German’s barrel-organ, as I live,” cried 
 out Lucifer; “ what luck that he should arrive at 
 such a moment.” 
 
 True enough. As he spoke, the large figure of 
 the German Diddler turned the corner of the 
 street, twirling the handle of his organ wdth such 
 vigour that all the people turned to stare, and at 
 the same moment began to bow and scrape be¬ 
 fore the musician. They had great respect for 
 this German, and opened a ready v T ay for him 
 towards the platform. 
 
 He carried a smiling countenance, and looked 
 exceedingly fat and prosperous; evidently the 
 world had been going well with him, for his organ 
 had a knack of striking up briskly at the right 
 time, which brought in abundant earnings. In 
 the hand not engaged with the organ, he held a 
 string attached to the neck of a dancing hear, 
 
24 “ Cheap John's” Auction . 
 
 that was his slave, and obeyed all his orders. 
 Whenever the string was chucked, the bear stood 
 on its head or hind legs, or else showed its 
 rows of grinning grinders, and roared lustily. 
 None of the crowd, and, least of all, the proprie¬ 
 tors of the caravan, admired those antics; yet, to 
 please the German, they laughed, saying there 
 was no harm whatever in this frolicsome bear, 
 and that it w r as an excellent beast at bottom. 
 
 When the pair neared the platform, William 
 and his associates began to uncover like the rest, 
 and gave the German good-morning, inquiring if 
 the bear felt hungry, or would take anything to 
 lunch. 
 
 The bear, obviously well inclined, sat up, and 
 sucked his paws. 
 
 Whereupon the German laughed out, saying— 
 “ From the way the animal is tugging and snuff¬ 
 ing there must be something to his taste in the 
 basket, and as the good beast is easily managed 
 by kindness, it is as w T ell to let him have what¬ 
 ever he fancies.” 
 
 William hesitated, looking doubtfully at his 
 partners, when there was a whisper, “ If we must 
 do it, let it be with apparent good grace. Don't 
 seem to be inhospitable ; the bird is tough and 
 untoothsome.” So Lucifer, thrusting his hand 
 into the lunch-basket, pulled out a well-fed, full- 
 grown turkey, and cast it to the hear. 
 

 The Auction . 25 
 
 The brute threw a somersault with glee, and 
 hugging the turkey close in his cruel paws, with 
 a gratified, contented air, looked up into his Ger¬ 
 man master’s face. The German laughed—a 
 coarse German horse-laugh it was. 
 
 “ It is pleasant,” he cried, in a rough tone, 
 “to see that we are all friends, and that you, 
 gentlemen, have been so kind to the harmless 
 hear, who has an old fancy for this unseasonable 
 morsel. As one good turn deserves another, and 
 as I never like to be under a compliment, much 
 less remain in debt, here is a trifle which I be¬ 
 lieve is honestly due to you this some time back,” 
 added the German, feeling hard in his pocket 
 for a small coin, and finding it with difficulty; for 
 the Germans are, like the Scotch, a thrifty race, 
 and rarely carry much circulating medium on their 
 persons. 
 
 “ It was the sight of the old flag which brought 
 the matter to my mind. You may remember last 
 year when I was in a capering mood, and wanted 
 a carpet to dance on ; you may remember that I 
 took the liberty of using your glorious ensign for 
 the purpose ; I was in wild spirits at the time, 
 and kicked out manfully, so fear that the nails of 
 my dancing pumps may have torn it, for the tex¬ 
 ture thereof is by no means as tough as in years 
 gone by, when the bunting was fresher. So here 
 goes, for generosity,” added the German with a 
 
26 “ Cheap John's” Auction. 
 
 flourish. “ Here is three halfpence to pay for 
 darning the holes ; and you may keep the change 
 to pay for those trumpery ships of yours which I 
 upset on the same frolicsome occasion. Perhaps, 
 I had liquor taken then, and did not quite know 
 what I was at. I’m sorry for it now, however,” 
 added the German, handing forward a threepenny- 
 hit over the heads of the people, towards the 
 elevation where William stood. 
 
 At this William’s companions cried out that 
 the German was very generous to offer a whole 
 threepenny to darn the holes in the flag, that the 
 bunting was not so much injured at all, and that 
 the balance of change would amply compensate 
 for the damage to the flag and the ships. 
 
 But Ben Trovato bawled out “ Shame!” add¬ 
 ing, “that the holes in the flag could never be 
 mended, that the German had been only sham¬ 
 ming and making fools of them all, and that they 
 were a mean and degenerated race to endure it.” 
 
 Everybody was overawed by the truculent aspect 
 of the brawny German, and pretended not to hear 
 the observations of Ben Trovato, the Jew. At 
 all events they paid no heed. Presently the 
 foreigner chucked the string of his bear, preparing 
 to move away. 
 
 It w r as amusing to notice how the crowd opened 
 a lane, and wished him all sorts of civil things 
 as he passed through smiling. He seemed, in- 
 
The Auction . 
 
 27 
 
 deed, to be in the best spirits and humour; and 
 proved himself not only a German Diddler, but 
 even a German humourist, as the Jew declared ; 
 for as he moved on jauntily, turning the handle 
 of his organ, a certain martial air burst out bravely 
 from his instrument. 
 
 An air that came like a thunder-clap on the 
 assembly. What do you suppose it was ? What 
 was the spirit-stirring strain which the German 
 Diddler selected to play ? 
 
 “ The Marseillaise ! ” 
 
 “ Die Wacht am Rhine ! ” 
 
 Neither one nor the other, but— 
 
 66 Rule Britannia .” Yes, “ Rule Britannia .” 
 “Rool, Britanny; Rool, Britanny, rool. There’s 
 a tooral-rooral flavour about it which pleases me,” 
 observed the Yankee aloud, singing the accom¬ 
 paniment at the top of his voice. “ ‘ For Breet- 
 tons niver, niver, ni—ver, shall be ’—Brayvo ! 
 I like that chune. Well done, Proosian ! It 
 comes in regular appropriate at this time o’ the 
 day, tew.” 
 
 A chuckle from the lamp-post. 
 
 “ Let poor Goodman alone, can’t you, Mr. 
 Doodle,” here whispered a man in the crowd, 
 interposing. (This was one of the touts in the 
 pay of the caravan.) “ If you don’t, you’ll drive 
 him out of his mind, and he has quite enough to 
 annoy him already if you only knew.” 
 
28 
 
 “ Cheap John’s ” Auction. 
 
 I 
 
 “ And he’ll have more, I guess, afore I’m done 
 with him,” answered the American. “ How am 
 I concerned whether he be in his mind or 
 no. His mind is his own affair, not mine or 
 yours.” 
 
 “ But he wont be able to mind his business if 
 you go on.” 
 
 “ Wal, agreed.” 
 
 “ And if he does no business, he can't earn 
 any money.” 
 
 “ A logical coon !” 
 
 “ And if no money, then it will be impossible 
 for him to settle that little account of yours, 
 which I presume you desire to balance.” 
 
 “ That last observation is to the point, Stran¬ 
 ger,” answered the American, pursing up his 
 lips. 
 
 . Here “ Little John,” the dwarf, who had been 
 on hands and knees creeping under the plat¬ 
 form, made a sudden plunge between the long 
 legs of William Goodman, and seizing the flag 
 with a snatch, furled it up out of sight in the 
 twinkling of an eye. It was now dangerous to 
 have it exposed; for at the strains of the German’s 
 ironical performance the faces of the people became 
 suddenly overcast. 
 
 As the flag was disappearing, the American 
 emitted a straight squirt of tobacco-juice from his 
 
The Auction. 
 
 29 
 
 closed teeth, which just struck it in the corner 
 of the Union Jack. 
 
 “ That institootion wants mangling up afresh. 
 You had better send it to wash, or bundle it into 
 the ole clo’ basket, anywhere out of sight, young 
 man,” he observed. “ ’Tis no longer much credit 
 to the fam’ly. And mind you have all the 
 Proosian blew washed out of the pattern, for 
 that’s no longer the pop’lar colour. An’, see ! 
 have a care the other colours don’t run at the 
 same time, as they are washy enough already. 
 Take care they don’t run as your infantry did at 
 the Battle of Dorking, as your troop-horses did 
 at the Battle of Berkshire. Have a care !” 
 
 The mocking organ continued to grind on in 
 the distance. William, darting a sour look at 
 the Yankee, nodded to the drums and whistles to 
 strike up, to drown the hateful note. 
 
 It was plain that luck was adverse; that no 
 matter how he strove, the counter receipts would 
 on that day he under an average. It was hard 
 that a well-principled tradesman, who knew his 
 business, and who minded it, as he did—who 
 was only anxious to be industrious, and to earn 
 a modest competency—should find himself the 
 innocent victim of envious and malicious men, 
 the puppet of an evil fortune. 
 
 As he made this reflection sadly, there was a 
 
 ! 
 
30 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction . 
 
 strange movement in the remote end of a street 
 opposite to that by which the German had de¬ 
 parted, and people began to collect hurriedly 
 round some central object of interest there. Pre¬ 
 sently there came the sound of a woman sobbing, 
 and the plaintive wail of an infant. 
 
PART II. 
 
 How the Auction came to he Obstructed, 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 / 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed. 33 
 
 PART II. 
 
 “ He roared so loud, and looked so grim, 
 
 His very shadow durst not follow him.” 
 
 “ What ! that woman ; she is coming clown upon 
 us again, as I live !” exclaimed Lucifer, feeling 
 about in the straw under the counter for the 
 handle of the bludgeon, which he usually kept 
 concealed there. This Lucifer was recognized as 
 the Bully of the Caravan. He was an adept in 
 the arts of garotting and knuckle-dusting, which 
 he had picked up to perfection in early life in 
 Australia, from the convicts and ticket-of-leave 
 men, who formed the society of the place. He 
 knew that this woman had been wronged by the 
 institution in which he was a partner—that she 
 had a valid claim upon it; he hated her and her 
 child accordingly. He hated her first for her 
 religion, or rather for being religious at all; then 
 for her poverty; but most of all because of the 
 persistence with which she urged her claim for 
 justice, as that interfered with the prosperity and 
 business of the Caravan. It was like the spite of 
 Shylock towards Antonio—a venom of the blood ; 
 the Jew’s horror of a Christian, intensified by a 
 hatred of the pocket; the envy which a huxter bears 
 towards a rival who lessens the profit of his traffic. 
 
34 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction. 
 
 This Lucifer, he it noted, was in some things 
 more honest than his highly respectable master. 
 He had never, for instance, striven to acquire popu¬ 
 larity by adopting any of the stock hypocrisies, ag- - 
 gressive religion, no-Popery lecturing, and nasal 
 oratory, like the head of the firm. He was no 
 pharisee. He despised these devices, as he openly 
 did also the sentiments which they were under¬ 
 stood to symbolize—so much candour was in 
 his nature. Business and profit only were his 
 gods—he made no secret of it. Beating and 
 hanging were terrors for him. As for the life to 
 come, he slept out the thought of it. “Bell, 
 book, and candle, could not hold him back, when 
 gold and silver beckoned to come on.” These 
 were his avowed principles, and he gloried therein, 
 took every opportunity of proclaiming it to the 
 world. 
 
 “ Oh! that I could meet you when nobody was 
 looking, on a dark night by a lonesome road, you 
 jade!” he muttered under his teeth, feeling be¬ 
 neath the counter for the handle of his bludgeon ; 
 but seeing the overcast faces around, he dropt 
 the weapon, and pretended to be only looking for 
 his snuff-box, which had slipped o.ut of his fingers 
 into the straw at the first sight of the woman. 
 
 Then, stepping on the ladder which reached 
 up to William’s feet, under pretence of presenting 
 a pinch of snuff to the head of the firm, he in a 
 
Hoiv the Auction came to be Obstructed . 35 
 
 whisper indicated the presence of the woman and 
 child. 
 
 “What! you don’t mean that infer-I would 
 
 say, that unfortunate person again!” William 
 exclaimed, in an eager undertone, lotting fall 
 several boxes of soft sawder, which he was about 
 to distribute gratis. “ How did she find us out ? 
 Who sent her here ? What on earth am I to do 
 with her now?” he whispered, surveying in dis¬ 
 may the woman, who presently approached the 
 outskirts of the crowd. 
 
 The scanty rags which she wore were colourless 
 and threadbare. At her languid breast clung a 
 whimpering infant. The child’s face was pinched 
 and blue with cold; it had famine in its eyes. 
 Yet those eyes were a reflection of the mother’s, 
 and hers were still beautiful, as were her features 
 and her form also, although it was thin and 
 wasted. Not years, however, but want and suffer¬ 
 ing, had dimmed the lustre of her beauty. On 
 looking again, you perceived that she was still 
 young—so young that even the vanity of girlhood 
 had not quite departed. The shamrocks woven in 
 her hair were festooned with a grace that told of 
 gentle birth; and suspended from her neck 
 shone a small medallion, a jewel of quaint device 
 and workmanship. Through all the struggles of 
 poverty she had striven to keep this jewel from 
 the clutches of the pawnbroker, and succeeded in 
 
36 “ Cheap John’s” Auction . 
 
 doing so. It was her pride to wear it—thus con¬ 
 trasting with the wretchedness of her general 
 attire, by its richness telling of departed better 
 days. Upon the medal was engraven the - 
 word “Volunteers,” and the date 45 82. On the 
 obverse, “ Faith.” Suspended from her shoulders 
 was a small harp. It was worn as an ornament, 
 or as a memory, like the locket—not for use or 
 comfort. The strings of the instrument were 
 detached and broken, it being many a year since 
 that harp had been set to joyous music—since its 
 spirit had freely spoken. 
 
 But why pursue the task of limning the con¬ 
 ventional outlines of this familiar portrait ? 
 That face and form are known to all, and each 
 one of us addresses her by the name which 
 either his prejudices, or his interest, or his 
 honesty suggests. By some she is regarded as 
 a harmless and crazy Ophelia—a subject only 
 for Christian feelings, or for the benevolent re¬ 
 straints of a lunatic asylum. By others, a fury— 
 an amazon of wild and bloody instincts, lawless 
 and fierce—a destroying Cassandra bent on fire 
 and vengeance, to whom neither quarter nor mercy 
 can be offered—towards whom coercion and cruelty 
 become, in the interests of society, imperative. 
 But by those who know her best, as a steadfast, 
 long-suffering martyr, whom neither allurements 
 nor persecution could detach from the old instincts 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed .r 87 
 
 of her race—from her dream of independence— 
 from faith in its attainment. 
 
 To complete the sketch, she carried, suspended 
 from the arm which supported the child, a wicker 
 basket of humble workmanship. It was filled 
 with boxes of lucifer matches, fusees, and penny 
 fireworks, such as school-boys and street vagrants 
 delight to purchase. Evidently, by the sale of 
 these simple, yet dangerous commodities, she 
 managed to eke out a precarious livelihood. 
 
 From the majority of the assemblage, the 
 woman met with glances of compassion, for her 
 story was well known. But all did not look on 
 her with such kindly eyes. Besides those con¬ 
 nected with the business of the Caravan, who, by 
 interest, disliked her, there were others, pseudo - 
 friends, and unnatural blood-relations. These 
 hated her as blood-relations usually do when in¬ 
 terest instigates them. Because their animosity 
 was well known, and also because being members 
 of her own family, they were ironically designated 
 her “Members The term “Member” grew 
 thereby to obtain an especially bitter significance. 
 In the ears of the woman, it was the most hateful 
 sound which could be uttered by the human 
 voice, for by their intrigues she had been first 
 betrayed, and by them she was still kept in 
 poverty and misery. 
 
 These “ Members” were, in part, composed of 
 
38 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction . 
 
 thriftless adventurers and nameless pretenders, 
 without either ability or training, who, precisely 
 because they were out-at-elbowed nobodies, gave 
 themselves airs, like all seedy bucks. Being . 
 mostly in bad estate themselves, they had an 
 especial underbred contempt for the monastic 
 virtue of poverty, which so grievously afflicted 
 their relative. 
 
 Since the Caravan first started in business, it 
 was surrounded by a flock of these gentry, who 
 were always either running before it, or attending 
 behind the wheels, in hope of getting a chance 
 of something to fetch or carry—to fall in for the 
 good fortune of some insignificant employment. 
 To exhibit how little sympathy they had for 
 the woman, they were always sneering at her 
 miseries; and to show their assiduity to William 
 Goodman, at all hours of the day or night, they 
 haunted the purlieus of the Caravan, lounging 
 about within call. When William appeared on 
 the public platform, it was their business to 
 applaud at the right place in his speeches, to 
 get up a clap for him, to encourage laughter at 
 his dreary jokes, and whisper puffery of the Cara¬ 
 van and its goods into the ears of the crowd. 
 
 William found them useful, and knew that they 
 were cheap. Now and then, he cast a worn-out 
 suit of livery to one or other of the gang, as a 
 sort of reward, pour encourager les autres , as it . 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 39 
 
 were, and these fits of intermittent generosity 
 
 bore good fruit. It had the effect of making the 
 
 % 
 
 body more eager and hopeful, of maintaining their 
 expectations alive, and of keeping those who had 
 yet received nothing, in a perpetual state of ex¬ 
 pectancy—always expecting, always wanting. It 
 was because of this that they first acquired the 
 name of the “ Gentlemen in Waiting A It was a 
 second nick-name, and it likewise remained with 
 them, only this difference, that the friends of the 
 woman always referred to them with horror as 
 “ Our Members A and the associates of William’s 
 Caravan with contempt, as the “ Gentlemen in 
 Waiting” 
 
 William Goodman, after whispering apart with 
 Lucifer on the platform, suddenly turned round, 
 and intimating with a lofty, rather scornful wave 
 of the hand, that he did not wish the woman to 
 come nearer, began, in a flurried way, to collect 
 the dispersed boxes of soft sawder which had 
 fallen out of his hands. Then, clearing his voice 
 with a premonitory cough, he was on the point 
 of proceeding with his business, when the woman, 
 in a few rapid steps, advanced quite close, crying 
 out— 
 
 “ I am come again, you see, Mr. Goodman. 
 You thought to get rid of me on easy terms, that 
 you had disposed of me with your usual clever¬ 
 ness, but I am here again, ready as ever to claim 
 
40 
 
 “ Cheap John's" Auction . 
 
 ray rights, to demand the redress, the justice which 
 you promised me so often with such positive as¬ 
 surance. Don't think I come out of malice or 
 envy, merely to disturb your occupation, to inter¬ 
 fere with the routine and prosperous progress of * 
 your business. It is, indeed, no pleasure for me 
 to be following you through the streets, making 
 an exposure of my distress before the world. But 
 when you promised me so much last year, and 
 performed these promises so meanly afterwards, 
 and solemnly vowed it, too, on your sacred honour, 
 in the hearing of all the people. And you, a 
 Goodman, who frequents both church and meet¬ 
 ing-house, and reads his Bradlaugh and his Bible. 
 You will see in the Bible how a good man should 
 reverence his plighted word, and sacrifice even 
 the interests of his commerce to keep it; and 
 allow everyone his just rights, nor defraud the 
 widow and the orphan.” 
 
 “My friend—my good friend—if you have a 
 claim to urge against me, there is the law r . The 
 law is there for you as well as for the greatest 
 personage in the realm,” said William, slowly 
 adjusting the set of his solemn shirt collars, and 
 staring around with a serene and dignified air. 
 
 “ You can summon me before the Court of Con¬ 
 science if you please; or, if you like it better, 
 before the police magistrate, my good woman. 
 
Hoiv the Auction came to be Obstructed. 41 
 
 But at present you really must move on. I shall 
 positively insist upon it.” 
 
 “ Court of Conscience! You talk of con¬ 
 science, you dare. You who, in defiance of 
 conscience and of law, have taken possession, 
 forcible possession, of all that I had in the 
 world, even of my little furniture and things—of 
 my little Home ,” shrieked the woman. “ The 
 home of my starving children, whom you have 
 driven naked across the wide seas to seek the 
 shelter of a roof. You who, not content with 
 levelling my cabin, and destroying my indus¬ 
 try, have even seized upon my scanty savings— 
 robbing me. Making your own of all I had in 
 the world. Hear him, good people; estimate the 
 deceit of his heart, when such a man as this ven¬ 
 tures to utter the word conscience.” 
 
 “It’s a shame. I say a darned shame, the 
 way you rich fellows have been spunging on the 
 substance of this poor woman,” here remarked 
 the Yankee, again stepping forward out of the 
 crowd. “ I happen to know something of her 
 case, and I say, it is a shame” he added with 
 emphasis, taking the quid from his mouth, and 
 putting it to keep in the pocket of his velvet 
 w ? aistcoat. 
 
 “Mind your own business you,” growled out 
 Lucifer, furious at the interference, and alarmed 
 at the effect of the woman’s eloquence on the 
 
42 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 crowd. “ Mind your own business, will you, and 
 let other folk manage tlieirs.” 
 
 “ Robert. My dear Robert, you should not, 
 on any account, address our good friend Mr. 
 Doodle in that tone of voice,” purred William 
 softly from the top of the platform. “You forget 
 yourself. You forget that he is one of our most 
 respected, most particular friends; and that of all 
 others, he is the man for whom I have, per¬ 
 sonally, a deep and genuine regard.” 
 
 “Bob! Bob, will you never learn to behave 
 yourself. How can you be so very incautious,” 
 whispered Big John, an eminent associate of the 
 firm, who happened to be standing behind the 
 counter. “If I were you, I would at once say 
 something conciliating to Mr. Doodle. It is too 
 bad you never can acquire our English manners. 
 Civility costs nothing: it is so very cheap, that 
 you, an economist, should study to make use of 
 it. Do make an effort to say something pleasant 
 to Mr. Doodle.” 
 
 “ I didn’t mean what I said then, in the heat 
 of the moment,” answered Lucifer, sulkily, “ and 
 if you wish, I suppose I’ll withdraw it. It was, 
 I admit, uncivil.” 
 
 “ It wasn’t; and you don’t withdraw the ex¬ 
 pression, not a bit,” replied the gentleman from 
 America, facing round with a brisk, well-satis¬ 
 fied air. “ What you said was much to the point, 
 
I 
 
 How the Auction came to he Obstructed. 48 
 
 my friend, I’m thankful for your advice. You 
 tell me to mind my own business—wal, I will.” 
 
 “ There ! you’ve done it, Boh ! with your con¬ 
 founded tongue,” several voices exclaimed to¬ 
 gether, in subdued tones, behind the counter. 
 “ This fellow will he wanting money of us too— 
 we shall he all beggared.” 
 
 “ It’s writ on this hit of card, my business is; 
 and ’tis quite right and regular that I should mind 
 it, and leave other folks to manage thcir’n,” added 
 the Yankee, fumbling in his waistcoat pocket, 
 and producing a frayed and dirty morsel of paste¬ 
 board, which he handed forward. “ Here, gentle¬ 
 men, my business is set forth there, and you may 
 as well lay your heads together, and decide to 
 settle it right off-hand.” 
 
 Lucifer grudgingly received the ticket, and 
 held it close up to his white eyelashes, pretend¬ 
 ing not to be able to read the writing, and then, 
 with a shrug, passed it on to his principal on the - 
 platform, as if it had been quite beyond his skill 
 to make it out. 
 
 William Goodman, too, affected to have the 
 like difficulty, for he pulled out his gold double 
 eyeglass, and peered over the card for some 
 seconds. 
 
 “Alabama is the word. There is but one 
 word on the ticket, and that word is Alabama. I 
 
44 ' “ Cheap John's” Auction . 
 
 can read it even at this distance,” bawls out the 
 Jew, laughing. 
 
 “ Quite right, my friend, Alabyma’s the ticket,” 
 chimes in the Yankee, grinning. 
 
 “ Well, Mr. Doodle, my good friend, and what 
 may I ask do you expect us to do in this matter?” 
 said William Goodman, drawing a long breath, 
 and closing up his eyeglass with a becoming air 
 of resignation. “ We were always good friends, 
 you and I; were we not ? I trust we shall always 
 continue to be so. It is right that we should, for 
 we are both of the same habit of mind ; we have 
 the same views of futurity; frequenting as we do 
 the same meeting-house, and I think we should 
 always endeavour to pull kindly together, Mr. 
 Doodle; don’t you? Now, like a good sir, say 
 what you expect us to do in this matter.” 
 
 “ Shell out!” said the Yankee. 
 
 “ You were always such a humourist. I be¬ 
 lieve if actually dying you should still stop to 
 have your joke,” said William, affecting to laugh. 
 
 “As I’ve made no arrangements for dyin’ at 
 present, it don’t concern any one whether I de¬ 
 part from this planet laughing or otherwise,” 
 answered the American, in a nasal tone. Every 
 man should mind his own business, as our friend 
 observes, and as paying at present is your busi¬ 
 ness, so receiving happens to be mine. I’d like 
 to see your money.” 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed ; 45 
 
 “JBut we haven’t any money. There isn’t as 
 much earned this morning, I protest, as would 
 suffice to purchase two pence worth of old cab¬ 
 bage-stumps for the donkey, yonder,” exclaimed 
 Lucifer, who was the treasurer and privy purse of 
 the Caravan. In matters of finance, he was 
 false from policy, and a miser by natural disposi¬ 
 tion. As he spoke he shook a few halfpence from 
 his purse out on the table; “ it is all the cash we 
 have to carry on with,” he said. “ And, as for 
 that,” he added, nodding at the Alabama ticket 
 on the counter, “ as for that, I don’t believe there 
 is so much money in the whole world.” 
 
 “ There is a five or maybe a ten pound note 
 pinned up in the bottom of that bag,” sung out 
 the Yankee, attempting to seize it. “ Turn the 
 bag inside out at once, you old jackall, and let 
 us see.” 
 
 “ Nonsense ! We can’t have this sort of work 
 going on here. We can’t permit these manners,” 
 said William, interposing with decided air. “ It 
 isn’t respectable. It isn’t right; and nothing 
 disreputable or wrong shall be permitted, with 
 my knowledge, as long as I am head of the firm. 
 I’d rather retire altogether from business. I’d 
 rather sacrifice all the property I have in the 
 world than consent to anything which is in itself 
 wrong”- 
 
 “ Gammon!” called out Ben Trovato. 
 
46 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction. 
 
 “ Than do anything of which my- conscience 
 cannot approve,” added William, not noticing the 
 interruption in extreme fright, lest the Yankee 
 should succeed in getting hold of the purse, and 
 discover the £50 note which was pinned up safe 
 in the bottom of it. 
 
 “Let us have the money,” said the Yankee, 
 “ and keep your manners and morality for your¬ 
 self.” 
 
 “I’d rather consent to almost any payment than 
 see you taking the part of this wretched woman— 
 than have this continual bickering going on,” 
 continued William, waving his hand. “ It de¬ 
 stroys confidence, stops business, and brings no 
 profit to anybody. Therefore, Mr. Doodle, we 
 shall look into this invoice of yours, and must 
 endeavour, in some way, to balance the account. 
 If you will just step across to the public-house, 
 over the way, with these gentlemen—indicating 
 the sleeping partners of the Caravan—they will 
 go over the items of the account with you, and 
 then if everything is found to be correct ”- 
 
 “Then, it shall be squared, I suppose,” ob¬ 
 served the creditor. 
 
 “ Patience ! good brother, patience,” said Wil¬ 
 liam, blandly; “ you will see it turn out best for 
 all of us in the end. Do like a sensible fellow, 
 step over to the public-house.” 
 
 “I don’t mind; that looks business, and I’ll 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed. 47 
 
 stand drink, by way of discount,” said the Ame¬ 
 rican moving away; for the prospect of getting 
 paid naturally altered the face of affairs, and put 
 him into better humour. 
 
 The poor woman’s spirit fell when the Yankee 
 disappeared. In him she had lost an ally, a pos¬ 
 sible advocate. Once he turned the corner, Lucifer 
 swiftly pulled out his famous bludgeon, laid it 
 ostentatiously on the counter; and William, bust¬ 
 ling about on the platform, declared, in peremp¬ 
 tory tones, that “ he had resolved not to put up 
 with it any longer; and that, decidedly, she must 
 move on.” 
 
 They thought it safe to be off-handed now, 
 judging that the woman had no longer friends 
 among the crowd. They were, however, mis- 
 ‘aken. 
 
 She was strong in despair that morning, neither 
 admonitions, threats, nor even force, if they had 
 ventured so far, could control her. She was elo¬ 
 quent, reckless—ultimately her persistent inter¬ 
 ruptions brought the business of the Caravan 
 again to $ standstill. Worst of all, the energy of 
 her language was beginning to produce sympa¬ 
 thetic excitement among the crowd. To employ 
 force was out of the question ; it would have been 
 highly dangerous even to threaten it. 
 
 Presently, she came quite close and struck 
 the sides of the waggon with her clenched 
 
48 
 
 “ Cheap John's" Auction . 
 
 hand, the sinews and the bone showing through 
 the skin of the wasted arm as she bared it 
 in the effort; and, though she struck with all - 
 her might, still the blow was a feeble one, and 
 scarcely resounded against the strong sides of 
 the machine. What could one woman do against 
 a society of strong men, banded together by ties 
 of interest and of avarice ? Little, apparently; 
 yet as she passed swiftly round the Caravan, heed¬ 
 less and desperate, a few of the match-boxes and 
 fire-works from her basket fell down amidst the 
 loose straw which lay scattered on every side. 
 Some of this ignited, perhaps by accident, there 
 w 7 as a sudden blaze, and several of the company 
 had to rush together to stamp it out. 
 
 Hereupon Lucifer ran up to William, white 
 with fear—“ You must do something with her,’" 
 he said. “ You must really try and manage her, 
 either with your tongue or in some other way; 
 this sort of thing cannot possibly go on without 
 bringing disaster. She'll presently end by setting 
 fire to the straw with her confounded matches, 
 and crackers, and things. She ’ll smoke us out, 
 and we ’ll have to run for our lives, and lose all 
 our property, that will be the end of it. Try if 
 you cannot think of something to say. Get up 
 on the platform again, and persuade her to keep 
 quiet, promise her anything she likes, or that you 
 like, as usual it does n’t matter—only get her to 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed. 49 
 
 be quiet anyway, until we settle Doodle’s account 
 at all events.” 
 
 As there seemed no help for it, William had 
 to step forward, and with a ghastly smile upon his 
 sallow face, addressed the woman— 
 
 “ In goodness’ name, pray, my poor creature, 
 tell me once for all what it is you mean by this 
 extravagant proceeding ? Plainly—What is it you 
 expect me to do for you further ? How is it pos¬ 
 sible for me to ameliorate your worldly condition, 
 or even carry on my own business, if you persist 
 in these ‘ reckless demonstrations ’ ? Every favour 
 in my power have I not most generously promised 
 you already ? Have you a right to expect. any 
 more ? Has any reasonable creature right to ex¬ 
 pect any more than that ?” 
 
 “I don’t want your favours,” answered the 
 woman. “I don’t want your insulting alms, or 
 your ostentatious concessions. I never sought 
 for them, nor for anything more than what 
 was justly belonging to me by right. I want 
 my own, and nothing more. Justice and my 
 natural rights. Nothing more than that. Nothing 
 less than it either. Make up your mind, and shape 
 your course accordingly. Nothing else shall ever 
 content me,” she cried aloud. “ I know what you 
 have to say about your kindness, your favours, 
 your generosity. I have heard it often enough, 
 but I am tired of that. I am not a fool. I know 
 
 D 
 
50 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 what it means. You pretend to be generous, 
 and are all the while puffing yourself in the 
 newspapers and handbills as a benefactor, with 
 my money in your pocket, my substance in your, 
 granaries, and my starving children robbed of 
 their inheritance—gone away from me over the 
 sea.” 
 
 “You hear this, good people,” William ex¬ 
 claimed, turning to address the crowd. “I can 
 hear almost anything myself, for I have wisely 
 schooled and disciplined my nature to the patient 
 practice of endurance ; but ingratitude, I confess, 
 quite overcomes me. Ingratitude, more strong 
 than traitors’ arms, as the poet tells us, vanquished 
 the noble heart. When the beloved hand of 
 Brutus struck, great Caesar fell. All of us who 
 are fathers know how sharper than serpent’s 
 tooth is the thankless child. That is why it stings 
 me, for truly I have made a child of this woman. 
 My own child, had she been so in the order of 
 nature, I could not have loved her more. I 
 have done everything for her, chastized her like 
 a father, petted her like a mother. I have been 
 both parents to her, turn and turn about, and 
 now, with your own eyes, you see how she repays 
 me.” 
 
 “ Both parents indeed ! ” exclaimed the woman 
 bitterly; “ay! both, stepfather and stepmother.” 
 
 “ It was only last year that I conferred a further 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 51 
 
 indulgence upon her,” William continued at the 
 top of his voice, so that all might hear ; “it was 
 only last year that she fancied a new play-thing 
 for her children. I gave way to her humour. I 
 then bought a most expensive toy. A beautiful 
 little model Church, with jimcrack ornaments, 
 stained windows, steeple, congregation, parsons— 
 everything complete. It cost me fully Three 
 Shillings and Sixpence of British money, and 
 she immediately handed it over to her boys, to 
 break up in wantonness, to amuse themselves by 
 
 knocking the heads off the parsons.”- 
 
 “You were tired enough of that church, and 
 wanted to get rid of it anyway,” answered the 
 
 woman. “ It was neither an ornament nor a com- 
 
 % 
 
 fort in your own house, but a nuisance and annoy¬ 
 ance, collecting flies, and moths, and caterpillars. 
 You were glad enough to find any one to take it off 
 your hands; and as I was there you made a con¬ 
 venience of me to serve yourself, as usual—that 
 is always your way. Ever since you have been 
 trading on the generosity of that Act, puffing 
 
 yourself as a great and generous man.”- 
 
 “ Afterwards when she took a, peculiar agricul¬ 
 tural freak into her head,” William went on, “I 
 myself rented a farm for her, and fenced it round 
 with deep drains and ditches, so that no landlord 
 could intrude upon her boundaries, unless for the 
 legitimate purpose of doubling the rent, nor in- 
 
52 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction. 
 
 vade lier rights, unless indeed he had a pole in 
 his hand, and determined to inconvenience him¬ 
 self or his agent, by wading through a mass of 
 gutter and slush. And to complete all,” William 
 continued, “ I had the ground surveyed and map¬ 
 ped out, so that she might fold the map safe under 
 her pillow, and sleep at night with a contented 
 mind. The drawing and surveying of this map 
 cost me quite One Shilling and Sixpence, at least, 
 which, added to the expenditure about the Church, 
 makes her stand me at this moment fully Five 
 Shillings of sterling coin. All my own money, 
 too, and expended for her benefit in the short 
 space of one twelvemonth—of one twelvemonth, 
 only,” William repeated with emphasis. 
 
 “ Of your own money ! How can it be your 
 own money,” the woman burst out with a mocking 
 laugh, “when two years ago, in the face of the 
 world, you admitted that you owed me a whole 
 pound note. How dare you talk of spending your 
 own cash for my interest,, when I have it from 
 your own mouth, on your own showing, even 
 giving credit for the payment of the Church and 
 farm, that you must still stand in my debt for 
 at least fifteen shillings.” 
 
 At this the populace began to cheer; many 
 voices cried out that they had distinctly heard 
 William make that admission about the pound 
 note. 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed . 53 
 
 “ It is not about the money—about the Fifteen 
 Shillings I care,” the woman continued, gain¬ 
 ing fresh courage. “ He is welcome to keep that 
 if he would only put a roof over my little family 
 to shelter us from the weather; that is all I seek. 
 I want a home of my own, no matter how humble 
 it be. It is the privilege of a woman to rule at 
 home. Every Englishman will admit that. Every 
 Englishman’s home is his castle.”- 
 
 “ No Irish gentleman needs a home so long as 
 he has his Cawstle to go to,” observed one of the 
 “ Members,” with a superb air. 
 
 “ Why should not a woman with children be 
 conceded the same advantages as a strong Eng¬ 
 lishman who is able to work? Justice insists 
 that I shall be allowed at least the same rights 
 as he. And I stand here, not for favours, but 
 for justice only,” declaimed the woman, not heed¬ 
 ing the interruption of the “member”—springing 
 up upon a bench. “ I appeal to this crowd, I put 
 the question to the great body of people collected 
 here—people of every religion, of all politics, of 
 every nationality. Natives and foreigners alike, 
 I ask them all, Is there any reason why I, a 
 woman, should not have domestic rule? why I, 
 a mother, should be denied the comforts of a 
 home ?” 
 
 There was applause, and loudest from the 
 Englishmen; because those present were men of 
 
54 
 
 “Cheap John's" Auction . 
 
 humble degree, who like the woman, had suf¬ 
 fered from the pressure of capital, from the 
 tyranny of class and caste, but not from the worst 
 tyranny of bigotry and prejudice, as she had. 
 It seemed to them that the woman’s claim wae 
 reasonable, and they began to gather in groups,' 
 and mutter among themselves, looking hard at 
 William on the platform. 
 
 This added to Goodman’s annoyance; as 
 amongst working Englishmen, his name had been 
 popular, and he desired to keep it so. When he 
 saw the swarthy uplifted hands of the operatives 
 and mechanics clapping away at the woman’s 
 speech, he could not bear it, but hurried off the 
 platform into the inner compartments of the 
 Caravan. His discomfiture naturally provoked ill- 
 humour. 
 
 “ Little John,” who happened to be scribbling 
 on a slate as the great man passed in, was cuffed 
 for being in the way, and when the astonished 
 little man inquired the reason of such an un¬ 
 merited assault, he was rudely reproved, and 
 despatched to bring Big John into the waggon. 
 
 Now, Big John had been screening himself 
 behind the railings at the other side of the wag¬ 
 gon, and, though present at the whole dialogue 
 between William and the woman, had not ven¬ 
 tured to open his mouth even once all the morn-1 
 ing. 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed. 55 
 
 Big John and Little John were men of very 
 different calibre. 
 
 When the Caravan first started in business, 
 the proprietors were driven to adopt various de¬ 
 vices in order to attract attention, and make the 
 institution take with the public. In those early 
 days the Caravan partook quite as much of the 
 character of a show-box as of a pedlar’s booth— 
 tumblers, Jack-puddings, and famous boxers, 
 both white and coloured, and all sorts of show-off 
 fellows were hired by the proprietary to strut 
 about on the platform, and attract a crowd each 
 day, by exhibiting their persons before the regular 
 business of selling off the stock commenced. 
 
 Big John, amongst other members of the acro¬ 
 batic profession, was first engaged in this capacity, 
 but he increased so fast in size and bulk, under the 
 influence of the unaccustomed good living which 
 all the servants of the Caravan enjoyed, that he 
 soon became as celebrated a giant, as he had been 
 an acrobat before ; and ended by being usually 
 styled the giant of the company, as Little John 
 was fittingly designated the dwarf of it. 
 
 In front of the booth, a horizontal bar, and 
 some pulleys and ropes, and other simple gym¬ 
 nastic appliances, had been constructed for Big 
 John, to come and exhibit his tumbling tricks 
 upon. These feats of his were greatly admired. 
 But Little John never, in all his life, had been 
 
56 
 
 a 
 
 Cheap John’s” Auction. 
 
 able to do anything worth noticing, though he j 
 had abundant opportunities, and w^as always try¬ 
 ing, for he was very ambitious. His one speciality 
 and only talent was his extreme smallness. He 
 had a positive genius for every sort of littleness. 
 And as he used to swagger about with such an 
 absurdly consequential air, people called him, in 
 derision, the Little Lord—otherwise, there was 
 nothing lordly, or respectable about him. 
 
 For a time people had laughed at the sight of 
 this little person, strutting to and fro on the 
 stage, with the exaggerated air and swagger of a 
 man of decent size; but soon finding that he did 
 not know how to do anything whatever, they 
 grew tired, and when he showed himself, there 
 were hisses; so the management wisely aban¬ 
 doned the idea of taking him into the business as 
 a partner. They withdrew him altogether from 
 the public gaze, gave him no functions whatever; 
 in fact, intimated that they were not too eager to 
 retain his services, or have him seen about the 
 w T aggon at all. This hurt the vanity of the little 
 man, and to show spite, he used occasionally to 
 write letters to the newspapers, disparaging the 
 character of the business, or rather the manage¬ 
 ment of it, and by circulating spiteful handbills 
 among the crowd, endeavoured to teaze "William 
 into entertaining his pretensions to receive regu¬ 
 lar and permanent employment from the firm. 
 
Hoiv the Auction came to he Obstructed . 57 
 
 At other times* he would adopt quite an opposite 
 line, and come secretly to William, offering his 
 services gratuitously, and volunteering to write 
 out puffing placards and advertisements for him, 
 to run of messages, or do any other insignificant 
 dirty work that was wanted. 
 
 During working hours, and overtime also, he 
 was always employed writing at his desk; a sheet 
 of foolscap folded made a fit and becoming cover¬ 
 ing for his head. It was odd, notwithstanding 
 the mediocrity of his talents, that he didn’t suc¬ 
 ceed in accomplishing some of his many enter- 
 prizes, for his industry was prodigious. 
 
 Big John, the giant, was, we repeat, a very 
 different person from his little namesake, in mind 
 as well as stature. Not content with the notoriety 
 which his great size obtained, nor with his fame 
 as a gymnast—in this he was surpassed by another 
 professional attached to the waggon, Silken Tho¬ 
 mas by name, of whom, more presently—he con¬ 
 tinued to exercise his muscles, until he acquired 
 a solid proficiency in a number of new and inte¬ 
 resting tumbling and jumping feats, which, in due 
 time, he exhibited to the partners, and astonished 
 them by his agility and power. 
 
 The principals were greatly pleased, and find¬ 
 ing his new acquisitions, also, to take with the 
 public, William Goodman raised his salary to a 
 considerable figure, and had a new suit of fine 
 
58 
 
 “ Cheap Johns” Auction. 
 
 and fashionable clothes made for him, quite diffe¬ 
 rent from the Yorkshire gaiters and Quaker broad¬ 
 brim, which he had worn from his humble birth. 
 Simple-minded Big John grew to take much 
 pleasure in wearing the new suit, and when off 
 duty, or resting from the fatigues of performance, 
 he would put on his laced, ornamental coat, 
 and in hat and feather, with a gay court sword 
 dangling between his legs, strut on the platform 
 before all the people. Sometimes the sword would 
 get crosswise, and throw him awkwardly out of 
 step, and the plumes of the cocked hat flutter 
 into his eyes: it was not an imposing nor a be¬ 
 coming exhibition. 
 
 Big John grew to be an important personage 
 in the business, until, like many others, he began 
 to spoil in prosperity. The rise in fortune affected 
 his habits : he began to live too well, to work 
 negligently, and so became short-winded and 
 stout, unable to perform the tumbling feats which 
 had made him famous. He acquired airs in the 
 cocked hat and official livery, affected to disparage 
 his humble origin, to despise the profession of a 
 saltimbanco, even went so far as to assert a right 
 to sit at the same board as the partners on terms 
 of assumed equality. He became, at last, so in¬ 
 tolerably forward and familiar, that the manage¬ 
 ment decided not to endure it, but at the first 
 opportunity to get rid of him. This was duly 
 
Hoiv the Auction came to he Obstructed . 59 
 
 accomplished, and so his ambition of obtaining a 
 permanent partnership came to an end. Yet there 
 was nothing like a misunderstanding between 
 Big John and the heads of the firm. That would 
 not have suited anybody. 
 
 He still enjoyed the prestige of being associated 
 in a vague, inofficial way with the progress of the 
 business, and it was a recognized advantage to the 
 firm to have Big John’s honest face and portly 
 figure seen occasionally about the premises. 
 
 Though people had lost faith in his tumbling, 
 they still clung to the traditions about his ho¬ 
 nesty ; and the regular customers thought there 
 could not he cheating or false dealing as long as 
 Big John continued to be seen about the pre¬ 
 mises. 
 
 The public is not always clear-sighted about 
 its favourites, and in this impression it possibly 
 overshot the mark. 
 
 When Little John brought his large namesake 
 into William Goodman’s presence, the latter re¬ 
 ceived his fat friend very coldly, or literally, very 
 warmly, for he began to address him in the 
 plainest language. When annoyed, in private 
 life, when the public was not looking on, William 
 was no economist of strong language. The 
 William of the closet, surrounded by assistants 
 and underlings, and the bland and smiling Good¬ 
 man of the platform, appealing to his customers, 
 
60 
 
 “ Cheap Johns '' 1 Auction . 
 
 were two very different beings. Abroad, lie was 
 meekness itself—a lamb; but, oftentimes, at 
 home, a wild animal—a lion—all teeth and claws; 
 fierce in invective, relentless, implacable; as ar¬ 
 rogant, supercilious a martinet as ever breathed. 
 
 He had method in his anger, however. He 
 did not fly into the face of Big John as, in the 
 same crisis of bad temper, he might have done to 
 a lesser man, but he turned on him all the same, 
 with a good business-like, logical, working-ma¬ 
 jority sort of abuse. 
 
 “ You are the main cause of all the trouble this 
 woman outside is giving us,” he said, jerking off 
 his white neckcloth and flinging it on the table. 
 This was the well-known sign of battle. “ You 
 are the origin of all the mischief which she lias 
 done, is doing, to the business. It w r as you who 
 first put a false ambition into her head—gave her 
 notions above her sphere, with your confoundedly 
 indiscreet tongue, your loose talk, and your 
 street tumbling tricks at Dublin, Limerick, and 
 elsewhere.” 
 
 Though taken by surprise, Big John found an 
 answer readily enough. 
 
 “ You chiefly are to blame,” he replied. “ Your 
 volubility first deceived the poor woman. You 
 are the real author of the famous “Ideas”—those 
 false ideas of yours clothed in such fervid lan¬ 
 guage. Hot words, that the orator had so humbly 
 
How the Auction came to he * Obstructed. 61 
 
 to eat in the street afterwards,” laughed out Big 
 John ; to eat, or to quibble out of, like the liar 
 Parolles, or the braggart Pistol, while the cudgel 
 of public opinion rattled about his ears. Good! 
 to have you turn on me at this hour of the day; 
 it is your own handy-work altogether.” 
 
 William protested. 
 
 Big John totally denied. 
 
 “Between you both; half and half about,” 
 squeaked Little John, under the table, taking 
 notes. 
 
 Then William and his antagonist began to pull 
 pieces of old newspapers out of their pockets, and 
 to read each one the former speeches of the other 
 with great emphasis. Each disputant showed how 
 perversely culpable the other had been, and proved 
 it deliciously with the text of the newspaper; but 
 so eager was the contest that both spoke together, 
 and neither listened. In truth, nobody heard a 
 word except Little John, who, with an eye to 
 business, got out his scissors, and began to snip 
 off the ends of the newspapers, as they slipped 
 under the table, chuckling inwardly; for he 
 thought how these might be all pasted together, 
 and worked up into a new pamphlet. 
 
 The little man had a mania for writing pam¬ 
 phlets, which no influence could quell or extirpate. 
 His mite of a soul had years ago been possessed 
 of by a printer’s devil, and neither the sarcasms 
 
62 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction . 
 
 of critics nor the quills of reviewers could exor¬ 
 cise the fiend. 
 
 When the contention reached this point, all 
 the assistants gathered hurriedly into the room, 
 to try and prevent scandal, and put an end to the 
 dispute. 
 
 William was not displeased at the interruption. 
 He recognized that Big John was having the 
 uppermost of the argument; so abandoning the 
 discussion, sought around for some other object 
 on which to vent his temper. Big John was too 
 sizable an antagonist, and William naturally pre¬ 
 ferred selecting one not so evenly a match. The 
 company was, however, composed of mere rank 
 and file, mediocrities unworthy of notice — un¬ 
 worthy of the great anger that filled him. 
 
 Then a curtain at the aperture of the com¬ 
 partment divided, and two mighty personages 
 entered — The Great Dispencer and Phoenix 
 Apollo. 
 
 Ha ! the guilty ones—the very victims wdiich 
 his ill humour demanded. 
 
 The Great Dispencer, and Phoenix Apollo, 
 although great lords, wore partners in the busi¬ 
 ness of the Caravan, and drew no small share of 
 its profits; for in modern times great lords have 
 got over their prejudices about business, and 
 think it no stain to derive incomes by w~ay of 
 trade. Both these personages wore trustees and 
 
Hoiv the Auction came to he Obstructed . 68 
 
 managers of the principal outlying estates of 
 the Firm, which were situated at a distance. 
 It was on these estates that the angry woman 
 rested her claim, and because of the had manage¬ 
 ment there that she had become an ungovernable 
 termagant. It was an apt opportunity therefore 
 to reproach them, and demand account of their 
 bungling stewardship. 
 
 The Great Dispencer, if the highest official, 
 was second in importance to the other. They 
 both hailed direct from the Castle-yard, a locality 
 to which we shall have more distinctly to refer. 
 At this Castle, the Great Dispencer paradoxically 
 dispensed the law, and dispensed with the laws. 
 He dispensed police and detectives broadcast for 
 instance; but, with equal offiliandedness, he dis¬ 
 pensed with the liberty of the press, with personal 
 liberty, and with the Habeas Corpus. He was 
 a great Statesman—author of the cardinal maxim, 
 “ That everything is illegal which the police 
 don't like.” It w T as with that working principle 
 he always governed, and governed successfully. 
 He was a humourist too, be it noted to his credit. 
 
 He delighted to assemble honest citizens, arrayed 
 
 # 
 
 in swords and court suits, their home-spun 
 spouses in lappets and bangles. He dispensed 
 hospitably to these gentry; but he dispensed 
 also with courtesy to the gentlemen of the press, 
 who came to record the special features of his 
 
64 
 
 “ Cheap John s Auetion. 
 
 festive dispensations. To the country under his 
 care he was especially a “Messenger of Peace”; he 
 dispensed peace and prosperity—chiefly in after- 
 dinner speeches. But he also dispensed with a 
 knowledge of its people, as he did with capacity 
 or statesmanship. Seeing how many points 
 were per contra , it w r as to his credit that he 
 governed, notwithstanding. Only the country 
 was not grateful. It would have dispensed not 
 only with the peace which he brought, but even 
 with the “ Messenger of Peace ” likewise. 
 
 In this task, or puzzle, of government he w T as 
 assisted by Phoenix Apollo, the superb. Here 
 w T as a great personage. In the first place, Phoenix 
 Apollo was son to the Great Mogul. In certain 
 districts at name of the Great Mogul, people 
 drop on their knees and kiss the dust. The son, 
 true to his blood, had the air and supercilious 
 manners of all the Moguls to a marked degree. 
 He differed vastly from the Great Dispencer in 
 some essentials. For instance, the Dispencer 
 w r as sometimes ashamed of exhibiting ignorance 
 in public, but Phoenix Apollo, son to the Great 
 Mogul, thought ignorance rather becoming—even 
 bragged of possessing it in his speeches. He 
 governed awry or otherwise, as it suited his 
 humour; and when he meddled with business he 
 often marred it, but w 7 as liked all the better for 
 that. People said it was the birth-right and 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 65 
 
 privilege of the Moguls to meddle and mar— 
 an attribute of the order. Besides, in a certain 
 sense, he could not err; for, when anything 
 of importance went wrong through mismanage¬ 
 ment, there was ever found some miserable scape¬ 
 goat to step forward, and swear ’twas he had done 
 it, and not the Lord Apollo. 
 
 If His Highness should have made some fla¬ 
 grant blunder, say, issued a false proclamation, 
 it was at once announced that Bag, or Famish, 
 or Toad, or Tadpole, had composed the foolish 
 poster. If the people were bludgeoned at a 
 public meeting, it was the truculent Corporal 
 Nym, or Peto, or Bardolph, who had shed their 
 plebeian blood, and not the knight Sir John, the 
 captain of the band. Bag, or Famish, or some 
 other such spatch-cock, was incontinently placed 
 upon the spit before the flames of popular anger, 
 and deputed to roast for my lord. A supply of 
 such instruments was always ready for an emer¬ 
 gency at the Castle-yard. Victims, whose office 
 in life was to carry the weight of other men’s 
 transgressions, and perish to save the reputation of 
 the great. 
 
 “ So you, gentlemen, have condescended to 
 appear,” William bursts out, as the two entered 
 arm-in-arm, and stood apart with a high-bred, 
 conceited air. “ You arrive in time to enjoy the 
 display of fireworks which you have laboured 
 
 
 E 
 
66 “ Cheap Johns" Auction . 
 
 I 
 
 so well to provide. In truth, you are skilful 
 artists, able conjurors, excellent partners. The 
 business has every reason to be obliged for 
 your good offices—to be proud of you both.” 
 Then William began to march to and fro, striking 
 and pushing about the chairs and tables in a way 
 that resounded through the wooden structure of 
 the Waggon, shaking the whole fabric. The 
 lesser members of the company took fright at his 
 vehemence, began to creep under the forms and 
 benches, to hide out of the way behind the cur¬ 
 tains. Even Lucifer, silenced by the storm, sat 
 demurely blinking in the corner. 
 
 The two lords had edged silently away into 
 the darkest division of the apartment. William 
 stopped suddenly, and coming close up, glared at 
 them afresh. 
 
 “ Of course I shall put you both up there, as 
 soon as this row is over; make up your minds to 
 that,” he said, pointing to the topmost shelf in 
 the Waggon. “ I’ll arrange that neither of you 
 shall have another opportunity of procuring a 
 repetition of this outrage.” 
 
 “ I really did it all for the best; I have a con¬ 
 science to guide me—a character too,” mumbled 
 the Great Dispencer. “ I obtained excellent ad¬ 
 vice—‘ legal advice.’ I pledge my honour every¬ 
 thing was done for the best.” 
 
 “ Numbskull! ” 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed. 67 
 
 “ I always held, and hold still, that the infernal 
 woman outside is only to he put down by choking, 
 by plenty of it,” said Lord Phoenix, with an air 
 of defiance. 
 
 * • 
 
 “ Jackanapes !” hissed William. 
 
 “ It is my opinion, nevertheless,” said Apollo. 
 
 “ If I had only known that,” replied William, 
 mockingly making a reverence, “ if I had known 
 that in time, it would have caused an entire 
 change in my policy and method of doing busi¬ 
 ness.” 
 
 “ I’ll not endure this ; I’ll not accept such con¬ 
 temptuous treatment, such disrespectful language, 
 from any mere—mere Man,” cried out the Phoe¬ 
 nix, turning pale. “ You outrage heaven itself 
 in addressing me in such a tone. You forget 
 yourself. You forget that my nature is divine, 
 not human, like yours. It is impious.” 
 
 “Eh?” 
 
 “ If you attempt to do it again, I’ll—I’ll tell 
 my father, the Great Mogul,” urged the trembling 
 Phoenix in quivering tones. 
 
 “ Shiver the Great Mogul!” burst out William, 
 bringing his fist with a thwack upon the table. 
 Both Apollo and the Dispencer stepped backward. 
 “ Shiver the Great Mogul!” repeated William. 
 “ If you, top sawyers, venture to adopt divine airs, 
 I’ll soon hurl you from your perch—ay! the whole 
 set—or else tackle you to the shafts, make you 
 
68 
 
 u Cheap Johns" Auction . 
 
 drag the machine about for a living, like any 
 drudge—like the donkey there. Divinities, for¬ 
 sooth ! Let me catch you attempting to mount on 
 the high horse; let me discover even that you 
 dream of it.” 
 
 “ I never did, never tried to do it; the notion 
 never even entered my head,” whimpered the 
 Great Dispencer. “ I’ll apologise—I’m sorry for 
 what has happened; I’m willing to atone for the 
 past, to do anything you please, anything me¬ 
 nial—I’ll even take a broom and sweep out the 
 floor of the Waggon, if you exact it; only don’t, 
 as you are a Christian, put me to sit up there on 
 the cold shelf by myself.” 
 
 “ I never intended you to be by yourself,” re¬ 
 plied William, nodding at the Phoenix. 
 
 “ Is it me ?” inquired Apollo, with tears in his 
 eyes. 
 
 “ I’m sick of you,” said William. 
 
 “ But—but I’ll eat humble pie too, if you 
 like!” exclaimed the Lord Phoenix, blubbering— 
 “ humble pie, notwithstanding my great paren¬ 
 tage.” 
 
 “By Jupiter! you shall, both of you. Ha!” 
 Here a volley of stones from the mob outside 
 rattled against the sides of the Caravan. One of 
 the missiles burst through the window near the 
 Dispencer’s head, and, grazing it, fell in the 
 middle of the floor. 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 69 
 
 “Lucky your brains escaped,” sneered Wil¬ 
 liam ; ‘‘ we never could have repaired such a loss. 
 What a pair ! Look each other in the face, and 
 say what you think of it, now. Hearken to the 
 turmoil you have raised. To think, after my care 
 and trouble, my manoeuvring—to think of a disas¬ 
 ter brought about by such agents. ’Tis enough 
 to make one throw down the drumsticks, and give 
 it up. I have a mind,” he added, “I have a 
 mind to let the woman and the mob batter the 
 Caravan to pieces—destroy the business, and the 
 whole concern. It would be only serving you 
 out to suffer it.” 
 
 Here Lucifer interposed. Business was busi¬ 
 ness, he said; and, considering things from a 
 commercial point of view, he did not think that 
 at such a time to be wrangling amongst them¬ 
 selves was the right or best way of doing busi¬ 
 ness. 
 
 “ ’Tis a relief to one’s feelings,” said William. 
 
 “But there is no money made by it,” an¬ 
 swered his clever partner. 
 
 “ The problem is to silence or pacify the woman 
 outside,” said Big John ; “ until that is done we 
 can have no hope of a prosperous trade; and I 
 confess I don’t see my way at present to go about 
 doing that.” 
 
 “ The only way is for you to try your hand at 
 it,” said Lucifer. “It is the only thing,” he 
 
 i 
 
70 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction . 
 
 added, in reply to the grimace with which Big 
 John received the proposal.” 
 
 “ Do ! ” said William, softening in tone ; “ Do 
 us this good turn for ‘ auld lang syne.’ She knows 
 the sound of your pleasant honest voice, and ’tis 
 said that she liked you once.” 
 
 “ She wont listen to me now,” said Big John, 
 uneasily. 
 
 “ Try all the same. You only forgot your fine 
 promises. You left them unperformed, nothing 
 more. You did not tie her up—stifle and strangle 
 her, or flog her with beneficent coercion stripes, 
 for venturing to remember those awkward pro¬ 
 mises, as we, as some of us did—ahem!” said 
 William, dryly. 
 
 “ Like a man, like a big man as you are, like 
 a man of business, perform this little job for us,” 
 urged Lucifer. There are whole basketsful of 
 stuff to he sold off before sunset; and we never 
 will accomplish it, or get through our business, 
 if you don’t succour us.” 
 
 Very reluctantly, Big John went out to liar- 
 rangue the mob, and, if he might, to pacify the 
 woman. 
 
 An audible commotion arose without, as the 
 big man stepped upon the platform ; hut he re¬ 
 entered the Waggon precipitately. He had not 
 been well received outside. They had even 
 thrown things. One miscreant struck him with 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 71 
 
 some degraded object, and liis honest face was 
 flushed—indignant— stained. Faugh ! He had 
 
 to retire to the inner cabinet. 
 
 \ 
 
 “ What do you think now?” he said, reappear¬ 
 ing in a few moments, composedly addressing 
 William; “ I trust \ou are convinced that she 
 wull not attend to me any more than yourself.” 
 
 “I don’t know what on earth to do,” said 
 William. 
 
 “ It never was so serious before, in my time at 
 least,” chimed in Lucifer, gloomily. 
 
 “We must send for Silken Thomas,” said Big 
 John, demurely; “he is the man for the occasion.” 
 
 William started at this suggestion, but his 
 countenance fell. 
 
 “ Silken Thomas might do it, perhaps success- 
 fully; I agree with you there. He should be able 
 to extricate us from this dilemma, but its an un¬ 
 pleasant office, and I doubt if Silken Thomas 
 volunteers for it,” he monologued. 
 
 “ He is one of us,” observed Lucifer. 
 
 “ I fear he has forgotton his obligations to us, 
 though,” answered William, with an injured ex¬ 
 pression of countenance. “ Silken Thomas has 
 already had so much, that he has little more to 
 expect, and he is clever enough to understand 
 that. There are no more favours to come, and, 
 therefore, no gratitude to be expected from Silken 
 Thomas,” added William, ruefully. He is a very 
 
72 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction . 
 
 good man, doubtless, and would never perhaps do 
 wrong except under pressure; but he would, I fear, 
 rather commit even a sin than commit himself/' 
 
 “Anyway we must have him—there is no one 
 else,” said Big John. 
 
 So Little John was sent out the back way to 
 find Silken Thomas, and he was cautioned to be 
 brisk, and not to loiter at the newspaper offices 
 and bookshop windows, cogging extracts for his 
 pamphlets. 
 
 A more accomplished artist than Silken Thomas 
 did not exist. He was by original profession an 
 acrobat, like Big John, and no gymnast in any 
 circus understood the tumbling business better. 
 He could stand equally w T ell on his head or on his 
 hands, and twist and writhe in every direction 
 with consummate ease. It was by his early prac¬ 
 tise at “ the Bar” that he acquired such extraor¬ 
 dinary suppleness of limb. No conceivable con¬ 
 tortion was beyond his powers. He could spring 
 up into the air, from perch to perch, like Lulu ; or 
 w T alk the tight rope like Blondin ; or suspend from 
 the trapeze like Leotard. He could spin round 
 on the point of his toe so fast that no eye might 
 determine in what direction he was twirling; and, 
 notwithstanding the cervical vertebrae, twist and 
 jerk his head backward and forward so fast that 
 it seemed as if he had two or three different faces 
 at the same time. That he possessed many dif- 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed. 73 
 
 ferent kinds of voice was certain; indeed so 
 excellent was he at ventriloquism that no varia¬ 
 tion of tone or sound of any kind was difficult 
 for him to imitate. In this way he was often 
 able to catch and control the mood or temper of 
 an audience, no matter how hostile or ill-disposed 
 its elements were. No wonder, therefore, that 
 his services were in much request, and that every 
 show-box in the kingdom was anxious to strike a 
 bargain with him—not only an agile tumbler, 
 but a clever and successful actor to boot. 
 
 The most remarkable professional feat which 
 Silken Thomas ever achieved, and which most 
 contributed to make his fortune, was the very 
 difficult one of sitting on two stools together 
 at the same time. All the leading muscular fel¬ 
 lows of the day had been at this trick again and 
 again, and had failed in it, covering themselves 
 with ridicule, provoking the derision of every 
 audience, by the absurd position which each suc¬ 
 cessive failure had left them in. For if either of 
 the stools yielded ever so slightly, or stirred even, 
 while the performer was in a critical position 
 poised between them, then the main support, 
 either on the right hand or on the left, gave 
 suddenly, and he fell between the two stools, 
 often with broken ribs or a dislocated back, or 
 otherwise so seriously incapacitated or damaged, 
 that his posturing days were over for ever. 
 
74 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction. 
 
 The trick of the “ Two Stools,” therefore, came 
 to be regarded as a philosopher's stone, a delu¬ 
 sion, a fantastical impossibility, by “the acro¬ 
 batic profession"’—a delusive though very seduc¬ 
 tive temptation—a thing to dream of, if impos¬ 
 sible to attain, and, therefore, constantly inviting 
 fresh victims among the ambitious “juniors” to 
 make the attempt. It looked so easy, that those 
 only who had a personal trial of the difficulty 
 could believe in it. 
 
 When Silken Thomas first notified his inten¬ 
 tion of hazarding the “Two Stools” problem, 
 William Goodman became alarmed, lest his 
 favourite should fall down between and break 
 his back, or become a cripple for life. Natu- 
 rallv he did his best to dissuade him from the 
 enterprise; but finding that neither arguments 
 nor remonstrance prevailed, and feeling what a 
 loss it would be to the business if an accident 
 were to overtake such a valuable member of the 
 Firm, William, in the interest of the establish¬ 
 ment, determined to provide a resource against 
 the chance of a catastrophe. He obtained a sack 
 fashioned like a cushion, and had it stuffed with 
 the softest wool, and so arranged it in the middle 
 between the two stools, that if either of them 
 were to slip or give way, the cushion would he in 
 the right spot to receive the shock, and break the 
 fall of the performer. 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed. 75 
 
 This was done in secret; hut Silken Thomas 
 kept his eyes on the alert, and detected the de¬ 
 vice. It suggested an easy way of making his 
 fortune at a stroke, with small risk to his hones; 
 and this was how he managed—When the day 
 fixed for the exhibition arrived, and the crowd 
 was all agape, and Silken Thomas was apparently 
 in the midst of his difficulty, balancing between 
 the two creaky and very ricketty supports, while 
 the excitement of the spectators was at the high¬ 
 est—all at once, instead of struggling to avoid 
 the yawning gulf between the stools, as other 
 artists had, Silken Thomas, with a hand firmly 
 placed upon either support, of his own accord let 
 himself drop swiftly and noiselessly down between 
 them both. There was a scream from the specta¬ 
 tors when this occurred, and a general rush to 
 see what had become of the popular favourite. 
 People could scarcely believe their eyes when 
 they saw him safe, not broken or mangled, or 
 even damaged, but sitting upon the Woolsack, 
 and smiling up at them all. 
 
 It was then perceived that no accident had 
 occurred, but that this was a new rendering of 
 the “ Two Stool trick”—his own exclusive in¬ 
 vention—and people clapped hands, as they 
 always do at any successful achievement, no 
 matter how selfish and vulgar its nature he. 
 They were delighted with the craft and cleverness 
 
76 
 
 “ Cheap Joints” Auction . 
 
 displayed, and Silken Thomas became, if pos¬ 
 sible, more popular than before. From that 
 moment be was declared the only successful 
 executant of the “ Two Stools and Woolsack 
 Trick;” and William, in order to commemorate 
 the event, and also to advertise the feat with a 
 view to business, got a sign-painter to execute a 
 portrait of bis favourite, to ornament the front of 
 the Waggon. He was painted sitting upon the 
 Wool-sack, with a crown upon bis brow—a brand- 
 new Britannia metal one. This was the crown 
 of victory, which be bad gained, by the “ Two 
 Stool” achievement. His eyes w T ere directed 
 heavenwards, with a pious and tearful expression 
 —the tearful effect was conveyed by the white 
 handkerchief in bis band. In the background, the 
 “ Two Stools,” by which be bad conquered for¬ 
 tune, were gracefully arranged, festooned with 
 
 wreaths of the “ Wild flowers of Tullahogue,” 
 
 % 
 
 which are said to exhale an excellent fragrance. 
 In the foreground, rows of aspiring young gentle¬ 
 men in wigs and gowns were on their knees, ar¬ 
 ranged as votaries or worshippers, offering prayers 
 and incense to the image. To the right, an English 
 minister pointed to the “Two Stools,” with this 
 legend issuing from his mouth, “ Pour encourager 
 vous autres.” It was very picturesque. 
 
 When the populace saw the picture, and under¬ 
 stood its meaning, they were more pleased than 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed. 77 
 
 ever; and declared that the crown sat becomingly 
 upon his brow, that he was one of nature’s noble¬ 
 men, and should he distinguished by a title. To 
 which whim of the people, clever William Good¬ 
 man readily consented; and from henceforth, in 
 all the puffing notices and trade advertisements 
 connected w r ith the concern, Silken Thomas was 
 set down as a “ Lord,” and was designated, in 
 full style and title, as Lord Silken Thomas of the 
 Silver Tongue. 
 
 They had aptly selected the style of “ Silver- 
 Tongue ” for my Lord, because of the perfec¬ 
 tion to which, through culture, he had brought 
 that susceptible organ. Marvellous, indeed, 
 was the care which he had devoted to the 
 education of his tongue in early life. Incessant 
 the pains expended in the rudimentary balancing 
 and modulation of it. He had commenced to 
 practise betimes, and looked a long way a-head, 
 as his habit was in all things. It was with a 
 view to the perfect training of his tongue that he 
 first simulated delicacy of health. 
 
 He pretended to have a bad chest; and, by 
 way, for the benefit of his lungs, used to dose 
 himself morning and evening with quantities of 
 cod-liver oil. This was merely to keep his tongue 
 smooth by virtue of the unctuous fluid, and, also, 
 that his whole system might become impregnated 
 
78 “ Cheap John’s” Auction. 
 
 / 
 
 with the characteristic qualities of that hsh 
 whence the oil was extracted. 
 
 One result of this treatment was to make him 
 extremely popular. The effect of this medicine 
 upon his manners attracted a multitude of friends. 
 In a word, he was not only a great and success¬ 
 ful man, but an irreproachable one likewise, for 
 in all his life he had never committed—a 
 blunder. 
 
 If he had original views or stern principles of 
 his own, he was not always flaring them up into 
 everybody's eyes, as is the habit with some silly 
 people. He rarely disagreed, never disputed, 
 with his neighbour. Like Polonius, he possessed 
 the useful faculty of being able to distinguish 
 either a camel or a whale in the sky at the bid¬ 
 ding of a social superior, or of a loftier intelli¬ 
 gence. He was kind, good, benevolent, tepid— 
 a running fountain of cordiality, which kept well¬ 
 ing up in perpetual overflow. He had a beaming 
 eye, like the lady in the melody, and beams of 
 flattery and compliment were the rays which it 
 emitted. In the art of shaking hands he excelled. 
 At the first squeeze an impression of warmth 
 and genuine sympathy was conveyed; when the 
 gentle pressure of his tepid fingers relaxed, you 
 felt as if bearing off a blessing in your palm. 
 
 Lord Silvertongue was in the hands of his 
 French valet when Little John arrived, all eager 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed. 79 
 
 with the message from his master, William Good¬ 
 man. His hair was being curled for a court ball, 
 some of the ringlets were still stiff in curl-papers. 
 It was plain, therefore, that even in this great 
 emergency the duties of his toilet could not be 
 interrupted. So Little John had to return, with 
 all haste, to the Caravan, to report that, as my 
 Lord was having his hair curled, William Good¬ 
 man and his friends would have to come look for 
 Lord Silvertongue if they wanted him. 
 
 “ That petit monsieur, Leetle John, is not im¬ 
 proving in his looks, milor,” the valet exclaimed, 
 breathing on his curling irons, as the excited 
 messenger departed with a bound. “ Quel petit 
 dr ole. It looks as if he never could manage to 
 get any clothes whatever to fit. However small 
 the tailor makes his coat, the leetle man always 
 shrinks smaller, until at length no garment can 
 be got to look as if it belonged to or was made 
 for him.' Un peu a cote, milord; je m’en vais 
 vous coller un vrai accroche-cceur sur la tempe. 
 Again, he has the ambition to dress himself like 
 some man of stature. Fantaisie de petit homme. 
 Now, long ago he seized himself of a suit belong¬ 
 ing to feu Sir Robert, le Ministre celebre. It 
 was amusant to survey le petit singe draped in 
 the large habits de ce colosse. It was most 
 ridicule; the great hat coming down on his 
 shoulders, and the skirts of his long coat trailing 
 
80 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 by the ground. Everybody laughed. No matter; 
 Leetle John went strutting about all the same; 
 and was very happy. He fancied himself another 
 Sir Robert. Shall I make you the toupet, milord? 
 We are now at the crisis, and must decide. 
 Le toupet est de fort bon genre. Many lords 
 illustres comme, milord, have worn the toupet. 
 
 It is intellectual—it is respectable—it is sober 
 —at the same time that it is courtly, becoming, 
 and de grande politique. 
 
 “I doubt if it be at present quite a la mode, * 
 Louis ; and you know it is for me of all things 
 essential to be a la mode.” 
 
 “Naturally—since milord has married himself 
 a la mode.” 
 
 “Louis!” 
 
 “Pardon, milord! Ce nest qu’ une plaisan- 
 terie. But assurement, I believe the toupet to 
 be de bon gout; it is now of renaissance. I have 
 studied the subject from the best authorities, and 
 can speak also fortified by experience. I find, on 
 consulting the highest references—on reading 
 carefully the last month’s number of Le Vieux 
 Gague —I find that the toupet is at present worn 
 at Paris and Versailles. Monsieur Thiers has 
 adopted it, on dit out of compliment to Messieurs 
 les Princes de la maison d’Orleans, with whom it 
 is a pious heir-loom, derived from le bon et bien- 
 heureux King Louis Philippe de sainte memoire. 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 81 
 
 The toupet is especially adapted to adorn the 
 brow of genius. It will blend admirably with the 
 caprices of the arts. Painting and sculpture would 
 revel in the treatment of this ornamental detail; 
 and in the interests of posterity, milord will have 
 to consider the claims, the legitimate claims of 
 the arts upon his person—upon the contour of his 
 figure. However, if milord prefers une mise plate 
 a la Tartuffe, ou tombante a la Don Basile ou flot- 
 tante a la Borneo, I can arrange his clievelure 
 equally in these manners. If, indeed, milord would 
 permit me to make him a little suggestion, I 
 should venture to say that a mise a la Borneo 
 would be the most becoming for him. It would 
 certainly be most en caractere with his carriere 
 distingue. Helas ! Quel liomme exceptionel que, 
 milord. How many of our grands farceurs poli- 
 tiques of to-day, after having made the round of 
 the circle of fame, like milord, are capable of 
 re-commencing life successfully a la Borneo. A 
 la Borneo cette role si difficile. Sapristi! quel. 
 Courage ! quel tour de force.” 
 
 “ Nonsense, Louis. I am long past the pow T - 
 dered gallantries of youth. I have aged, or else 
 care and excessive study are insensibly producing 
 the effect of age upon me.” 
 
 “If milord will permit me to say it, milord 
 cruelly calumniates himself. For instance, mi¬ 
 lord’s figure faithfully preserves its form. The 
 
 F 
 
82 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction. 
 
 ceinture of milord is deux bonnes ponces less 
 tlian it was last year. I have noted it liere in my 
 album. It is a taille parfaite. The taille de 
 guepe is all very well in an ecolier, but it no 
 longer convient a Thomme illustre. Milord has 
 the torse virile vigoureux bien fait—mais tres 
 bien fait.” 
 
 “ Ah, Louis, you are partial—too partial. I 
 feel, indeed, that time is telling on me. I have a 
 presentiment that I cannot last long.” 
 
 “ Comment done. Yous plaisantez, milord. 
 Les grands homines vieux sont toujours jeunes.” 
 
 “ Emotions are wearing me out, Louis. I feel 
 that I am too sensitive ; I cannot control my 
 feelings. Anyone so much the victim of emotions 
 as I, must wear out.” 
 
 “ Crocodiles attain to a great age et cependant, 
 milord; they are most sensitive. 
 
 “ But crocodiles cry from nature, not by art; 
 it comes easy to them; and though I possess as 
 much nature in me as any crocodile, still it demands 
 an effort. Hence the strain of the effort, the diffi¬ 
 cult practice of the art, thereby double exhaustion. 
 I have invariably tried to cry, and have indeed 
 succeeded in crying at nearly all great Trials .” 
 
 “ Quelle seigneurie pleureuse. Tiens voila des 
 Messieurs qui arrivent. Ce grand cidevant fameux, 
 Big John, et ce fort respectable Guillaume le 
 Bon. II faut qui je m’esquive, heureusement la 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 83 
 
 besogne is all but accomplished However, I 
 will return tantot pour y’retouclierand snatch¬ 
 ing up the instruments of his art, the valet dis¬ 
 appeared through a side door, as Big John and 
 William Goodman entered the chamber. 
 
 It was the first visit they had paid Lord Silver- 
 tongue since the advancement of his fortunes, 
 and William was surprised at the richness of the 
 apartment, as well as interested by the quaint 
 and original devices displayed in the upholstery, 
 and in the fashion of its furniture. So much did 
 these decorations please his taste, and harmonize 
 with the qualities of his mind, that William 
 secretly resolved to have just such a retreat fitted 
 up for his own enjoyment, as soon as relaxation of 
 business afforded him leisure to indulge in fancies. 
 
 The walls of the room shone with a moral 
 splendour. It was illuminated in many colours, 
 and tapestried with exalted sentiments and reli¬ 
 gious mottoes, borrowed from the headings of 
 
 / 
 
 copy-books, and other respected sources of au¬ 
 thentic morality. These were shaped in every 
 variety of character, and painted in all hues. 
 Sometimes they were pasted under the portraits 
 of distinguished worthies of faultless reputation ; 
 sometimes cut in fantastical shapes on gilt card¬ 
 board, and suspended from brass nails or gaudy 
 ribbons; or tastefully worked in sealing-wax and 
 shell-work by some of the legions of ladies who, 
 
84 “ Cheap Jolm's'’ Auction . 
 
 from time to time, had humbly adored Lord 
 
 ' «/ 
 
 Silvertongue. 
 
 In the selection of these moral decorations, 
 My Lord had been careful to provide for the fan¬ 
 cies of every changing caprice, of every variety of 
 mood. Evidently he had studied the requirements 
 of his own character in choosing the moral sen¬ 
 tences which sanctified his retreat. It was as if 
 portions of the man’s self had been cut out and 
 pasted on the walls, like the interior of those 
 Parisian apartments where the sides, the floor, the 
 ceiling are so lined with mirrors that, whatever way 
 the inmate turns, whatever attitude he assumes, 
 the reflection of some portion of his person is pre¬ 
 sented to view. This room w r as a chamber mirrored 
 with moral reflectors. While seated in his chair, 
 Lord Silvertongue could sustain the standard of 
 his virtue or excite his impulses, by seeing some 
 portion of his own faultless moral nature reflected 
 in complimentary colours from the walls. 
 
 There was prudence, forethought, artifice exem¬ 
 plified, not only in the selection, but even in the 
 arrangement and position of these various quota¬ 
 tions. Occasionally, one was placed merely as 
 a foil, to give edge, as it were, to emphasize 
 the meaning of a proximate sentence. Here a 
 “ semper eaclem there a “ tempora mutantur .” 
 Under the same glass-case, a weathercock of gilt 
 sealing-w 7 ax beside a sheet anchor in papier- 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed . 85 
 
 mache. Yonder a portrait of an Evil Genius, 
 arrayed in the robes of a Lord Justice, and under¬ 
 neath, engraven in flaming Vermillion characters, 
 the fierce curse of Shylock, “I hate him, for he 
 is a—CHRISTIAN” 
 
 Glancing to the right, you read a doubtful ex¬ 
 tract from Swift on the “ Art of Political Lying 
 (( Whether Us better to contradict a Lye by Truth, 
 or by another Lye but on turning over the left, 
 you were reassured to discern that “ Honesty was 
 the best policy .” This was over the left. Beyond 
 by the fire-place, was a large piece painted on the 
 w r all itself. This was an allegorical representa¬ 
 tion of the “ Judgment of Solomon,” wherein 
 the bony figure of Legal Theology was repre¬ 
 sented as cutting the souls of two children in 
 twain, to content the conflicting claims of rival 
 relatives. In the background, the Demon of Pro- 
 selytism stood grinning. Big John admired this 
 piece very much ; and standing before it in an 
 attitude, declared it to be a fiasco, meaning a 
 fresco, whereupon there was a laugh both at his 
 ignorance of Italian and at his evident unacquain¬ 
 tance with the terms of art. 
 
 An effigy of the patron saint of the Silver- 
 tongues, stood in a shrine in a corner of the room. 
 This was the fine old English Conservative worthy, 
 “St. de Gammong.” A lamp burned before the 
 shrine. Lord Silvertongue himself was painted 
 
86 
 
 “ Cheap John V’ Auction. 
 
 as a votary at the foot of the image, robed in 
 the motley colours of the saint. These were 
 orange and green. By a coincidence, it happened 
 that these colours were also those of My Lord’s 
 own noble family. They might be observed in 
 heraldic blazonry in the reverse corner of the 
 chamber, where the family arms were freshly 
 carven: a tight-rope dancer poised. Motto, “ Ba¬ 
 lances Langue cV Argent A For Crest —A Phoenix 
 crowned with a wideawake. 
 
 On a pier table stood a large smelling-bottle, 
 labelled “Essence of Self.” When Lord Silver- 
 tongue rose to receive William Goodman and 
 Big John, this essence, which scented his hair, 
 and impregnated his whole person, being dis¬ 
 turbed by the movement, suddenly pervaded the 
 room. William knew the perfume well, hut Big 
 John was overpowered by its effect, and felt un¬ 
 well. 
 
 Lord Silvertongue advanced to shake hands 
 with each of his friends together; then with one 
 after the other. When they related the immediate 
 and pressing object of their visit, his Lordship 
 started up afresh, and shook hands with them all 
 over again with fervour, with vigour—protesting, 
 in language tremulous with emotion, “ that there 
 was nothing, if in his power, which he would not 
 
 do for them both, for all belonging to them ; and 
 
 # 
 
 that his good friend, Big John, and his benefactor, 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed . 87 
 
 William, might command his humble services to 
 the death. 
 
 Here he pulled out a cambric pocket-hand¬ 
 kerchief, and dropped a tear of gratitude. 
 
 “ Then out with you at once, and send her 
 about her business,” blurts out Big John, in his 
 blunt, plebeian fashion; “ apparently no tongue 
 hut yours will have any effect.” 
 
 “ But my tongue is rather out of order at this 
 moment. I have just now a very had sore throat, 
 and you know my chest is far from strong,” re¬ 
 plied Silken Thomas ; “ and the doctor has espe¬ 
 cially cautioned me against speaking much in the 
 open air while the delicacy lasts, as he says it 
 may shorten my days—but that I would not 
 mind. I would not suffer considerations of mere 
 health to weigh a moment when your welfare and 
 interests are at stake. I hn sure you must both 
 feel that—(pause)—But, I have some difficulty 
 in believing that you are both serious in asking 
 me to do this thing,” added his Lordship, making 
 a longer pause; “or else, if you be, that you 
 have carefully reflected on the peculiar circum¬ 
 stances which personally affect me in this matter 
 —on the impropriety, for instance, which might 
 result from my interference.” 
 
 “ How is that ?” inquired William. 
 
 “ I don’t understand,” observed Big John. 
 
 “ I mean my own close relationship to that un- 
 
88 
 
 u Cheap John's’ Auction . 
 
 happy, abandoned female creature in the street,” 
 answered Thomas Lord Silvertongue. “You 
 must have forgotten that. What influence can I 
 have with her, except through my blood-relation¬ 
 ship ? and it would, you will agree—it w T ould be 
 dastardly if I were to turn on my own relative 
 merely because she is in poverty. Blood, you 
 will admit, is thicker than water—’tis thicker 
 than wine.” 
 
 “’Tis even thicker than cod-liver oil,” sneers 
 Big John. 
 
 “You were not always so sensitive. Your 
 susceptibility upon this point seems to be newly 
 awakened,” answered William, tartly. “ Long 
 ago, when I put the woolsack between the two 
 stools for you, and crowned you with the coronet, 
 and made you a partner of the firm, your con¬ 
 science w r as then little disturbed by those warm 
 claims of blood-relationship. You found a way 
 of setting aside the unpalatable claims of your 
 vagrant kindred, then. But 'tis just as I expected, 
 and had foreseen. You are like all the rest. 
 There is no such thing as gratitude, unless it in¬ 
 deed be, gratitude for favours to come.” 
 
 “ ’Tis downright shameful,” cried Big John, 
 with his big voice. “I have n’t had anything 
 like your share of the plunder out of the concern. 
 I have n't had a penny for your pound out of it; 
 yet I ’d scorn to abandon the head of the firm 
 
How the Auction came to be Obstructed. 89 
 
 at such a crisis. I could not bring myself to do 
 such a thing. ’Tis all fine to talk about your 
 blood-relationship, but I consider that your duty, 
 that the first duty of all of us, is to the owner of 
 the Caravan.” 
 
 “ ‘ Shameful ! 9 ‘ Ingratitude ! ’ These epithets 
 were never before applied to Thomas Lord Silver- 
 tongue, even by the malice of his enemies. Never 
 in my hearing, at least,” observed his lordship, 
 with a deeply-offended air. 
 
 “It is too bad that at this hour of need you 
 positively decline to help us. I did not expect 
 such treatment,” said William. “ I must repeat 
 that it looks rather like ‘ ingratitude’—I regret 
 being compelled to employ the term.” 
 
 “ I decline to assist you ! I never did, I pro¬ 
 test,” answered Silken Thomas, warmly. 
 
 “ Why don’t you, then ? Why don’t you step 
 over the way, and send her off, instead of wasting 
 time, talking here?” said Big John. 
 
 “ Because it would be a false move. Because 
 I refuse to make fools of you, and a show of my¬ 
 self before all the people, without either necessity 
 or profit,” answered Lord Silvertongue, rising. 
 “Do you suppose she would go away so readily 
 for my telling ? Do you think it such a simple 
 feat—so easy to accomplish ? You tried it at one 
 time yourself, and did not find it so easy, I ima¬ 
 gine.” 
 
90 
 
 “ Cheap John s” Auction . 
 
 “ My voice is out of practice. I have been so 
 long in retirement that she has forgotten all about 
 me this long time,” said Big John. “Besides, 
 I am not her blood-relation, and have not your 
 claims upon her.” 
 
 “ You took her part more decidedly than I 
 ever did, though,” replied his Lordship, readily. 
 “ I did not pursue her with attentions, nor adopt 
 her claims, nor make my own of her case, as you 
 did; nor constitute myself her advocate, as you 
 did; nor puff her up with big talk. Nor either 
 fill her with false notions with the intoxication of 
 native ideas, like Mr. William here, who so readily, 
 and I may add, so grossly, in a manner altogether 
 unbecoming, unwarranted, ventures to brand me 
 with the stigma of ingratitude.” 
 
 Big John and William Goodman looked puz¬ 
 zled ; neither could find a syllable to utter, as 
 Silken Thomas glanced triumphantly from one to 
 the other in expectation of a reply; wdien oppor¬ 
 tunely the door burst open, and Little John 
 arrived breathless in the middle of the room. 
 
 Lucifer had sent him to announce that the 
 woman was raising the whole street—that she 
 had twice tried to fire the straw underneath the 
 flooring of the Waggon, with her matches and 
 fusees ; that the crowd, inflamed by her language, 
 was getting dangerous—stones had been torn up, 
 
Hoiv the Auction came to he Obstructed. 91 
 
 and hurled at the Caravan. The faithful Lucifer 
 was quite in terror of his life. 
 
 “ I don’t know what on earth to do/’ said 
 William Goodman. 
 
 “ I am at my wits’ end quite/’ said Big John. 
 
 “ Shall we send for the gentlemen-in-waiting ? ” 
 asked William; “ ’tis perhaps the best thing to 
 do.” 
 
 “ Send for the Gentlemen in Black, boobies 
 both !” said Silken Thomas, briskly. “ Your 
 stupidity is shameful. Send for the Gentlemen 
 in Black; they’ll arrange everything; it is the 
 only thing to be done.” 
 
 The faces of William and Big John brightened, 
 and Little John, jumping up, screamed out that 
 it was a famous suggestion. He was for running 
 off at the instant to summon Lucifer, and all the 
 other proprietors of the Caravan, to form a depu¬ 
 tation to interview the gentlemen alluded to. 
 
 But Silken Thomas was quite against it. 
 
 “ Had we not better put our best leg forward ?” 
 said Little John. 
 
 “ If you do, you’ll put your foot in it,” replied 
 Lord Silvertongue ; “ it is necessary to be circum¬ 
 spect—to select with care those who are to be 
 members of the deputation ; for the Gentlemen in 
 Black are touchy, suspicious, stand-off, and diffi¬ 
 cult to manipulate ; and have become very ex¬ 
 acting and curious about the antecedents and 
 character of the persons with whom they associate. 
 
92 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction . 
 
 Lucifer they can’t abide, because of his false face, 
 and no wonder,” added Lord Silvertongue ; “ and 
 Little John, because of his antecedents, they na¬ 
 turally abominate; and even Big John here, for 
 being such a strong dissenter, I doubt if they 
 will consent to receive. In a w T ord,” his lordship 
 added, “ there is no one amongst you fit to ap¬ 
 proach ‘ the Gentlemen,’ except, perhaps, William 
 Goodman and myself.” 
 
 “ You'll want a third man, though,” said Little 
 John, who was dying to be asked to join. 
 
 “We shall, and I have him—the very one!” ex¬ 
 claimed Lord Silvertongue, triumphantly “ Will- 
 o’-the-Whisp is the man. They have great con¬ 
 fidence in him, and he has a solemn, conscientious 
 face. Besides, he is a humourist, and will enjoy 
 the joke, and he understands them best of any of 
 us. He’ll do.” 
 
 So Little John, sorely disappointed, was sent 
 off to find Will-o’-tlie-Whisp. 
 
 “ Tell him we shall assemble in the ‘ Low 
 Castle-yard .’ Let him meet us sharp up to 
 time,” called out Lord Silvertongue, as Little 
 John was running off. And at the same moment 
 my lord despatched another messenger, with an 
 invitation to “ the Gentlemen” to meet him there 
 as soon as possible. 
 
 Now, the Low Castle-yard was a very low 
 haunt, where pickpockets, thieves, perjurers, in¬ 
 formers, detectives, crown prosecutors, and all 
 
How the Auction came to he Obstructed . 98 • 
 
 varieties of scamps and out-at-elbow adventurers, 
 were wont to assemble waiting for hire. N 
 
 It surprised William Goodman that Lord 
 Silvertongue should think of inviting the gentle¬ 
 men to assemble in such a slum of evil repute. 
 
 “I understood that they particularly disliked the 
 name of that place. The air of it, I know, does 
 not agree with them; and I doubt if they will 
 consent to be seen there at all,” he observed aloud. 
 
 “ Once they learn that Will-o’-the-Whisp and 
 myself are of the party, they will go anywhere, 
 they are so very fond of us; they have such 
 confidence in us,” answered Lord Silvertongue. 
 “Especially in him—naturally so ; for he has 
 never yet done anything but make use of them 
 for his own objects, any more than myself—ahem. 
 When they learn that he is coming, they will 
 have no sort of suspicion.” 
 
 “You know them best,” answered Goodman; 
 “ for my part, they always puzzled me.” 
 
 “ Yes; you never understood them, and, more¬ 
 over, never will. Therefore, I think you had 
 better allow Will-o’-the-Whisp and myself to 
 manage this our own way, and don’t you spoil 
 things by meddling and interfering, otherwise it 
 will result in mischief, and you’ll regret it.” 
 
 To this, Goodman readily enough consented ; 
 so presently he and Lord Silvertongue set forth 
 for the Castle-yard, leaving Big John alone to find 
 his way back to the Caravan. 
 
94 
 
 “ Cheap John's” Auction . 
 
 It was melancholy to see the solitary Big Man 
 returning through the streets, with a downcast 
 air. It was not the neglect of former associates, 
 nor the decline of his powers, that w T as hard to 
 bear, but his conscience was burdened and ill 
 at ease. The vulgar feelings of common huma¬ 
 nity were closely interwoven with his nature, 
 and w T ould not depart out of him. He had re¬ 
 morse. The past w T as a reproach. He dreaded 
 to meet his old friends, the people; to encounter 
 that poor confiding woman whom he had at one 
 time so ostentatiously taken under protection. 
 Ah! the past, the mocking past. Limerick— 
 Dublin! That court suit that fitted so ill; the 
 unbecoming finery of which he had been so vain. 
 The famous “ old songs” of other days, that he 
 could not now attune his big voice to sing. No 
 wonder he was ashamed to look the outcast woman 
 in the face. 
 
 Lord Silvertongue, however, was not ashamed 
 to meet the glance of any human being—his con¬ 
 science gave no twinges. At the Castle-yard, 
 Will-o’-the-Whisp was duly found in waiting. 
 Lord Silvertongue shook him by the hand, 
 offered his arm; and, with William Goodman on 
 the other side, my Lord jauntily led the way to 
 meet the Gentlemen in Black, well pleased with 
 himself and all the world, gaily whistling his 
 favourite air, “ The Groves of Blarney.” 
 
PART III. 
 
 How the Obstruction came to be removed, 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 V. 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 97 
 
 PART III. 
 
 HOW THE OBSTRUCTION CAME TO BE REMOVED. 
 
 “ Motley’s your only wear.” 
 
 Will-o’-the-Whisp was, in the opinion of Wil¬ 
 liam Goodman, a man of irreproachable recti¬ 
 tude, of uncompromising principle—a knight, 
 such as Bayard sans peur; a phrase that was 
 translated by Oppositionists into Bavard sans 
 peer — Bavard, because he was always fetching 
 and carrying stories about, earwigging Ms friends. 
 From this habit, his sobriquet of “ Will-o’-the- 
 Whisper” was first derived. It was afterwards 
 shortened into “ Will-o’-the-Whisp.” This con¬ 
 traction suited in every way : first, because the 
 light of his intelligence was fitful and uncertain ; 
 next, because he would never have ranked as a 
 luminary at all, but for the unwholesome char¬ 
 acter and diseased political atmosphere of the 
 haunts which he frequented. 
 
 He had already acquired considerable reputa¬ 
 tion as a go-between, and was regarded as quite 
 a confidential person. He was always giving ad¬ 
 vice on difficult problems of government. Wil¬ 
 liam Goodman believed that this advice was of 
 
 G 
 
98 
 
 C6 Cheap Johns ” Auction . 
 
 advantage both to the country and to the Cara¬ 
 van, but other persons were of a different opinion. 
 At all events, Will-o’-the-Whisp was now securely 
 fixed in office as one of the elect; and justly so, 
 for before the event of his final election, he had 
 displayed considerable merit, or considerable abi¬ 
 lity. When at that time, he went- to the country, 
 he explained to his rustic friends and supporters 
 a new form of the old trick called “ trick-o’-the- 
 loop.” “ The Home-Rulers ” were not quick 
 enough to understand it then, but they have 
 become more intelligent since. They do now 
 thoroughly, although the more they puzzle, the 
 more puzzled they became over it. Still, they 
 perfectly understand, at present, the trick which 
 he played them. 
 
 “ Will-o’-the-Whisp,” hopes to succeed Phoenix 
 
 % 
 
 Apollo in office. He hopes that the latter may 
 be presently turned adrift, as he so well deserves. 
 He hopes, also, that the day of judgment may 
 not arrive—that the bottom may not fall out of 
 the Caravan before all this happens. 
 
 Although he commenced life as a vagrant poli¬ 
 tician, he is now established in the safe position 
 of a man of letters. He is very attentive and 
 punctual at his “Post” Being but a recent 
 partner, he is anxious to show that he has regular 
 business habits ; and as he dreams of obtaining 
 a crown and title, perhaps, like Lord Silvertongue, 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 99 
 
 by-and-by, he is most anxious to please the heads 
 of the firm, and faithfully serve his master, Wil¬ 
 liam Goodman. 
 
 He is in high favour with the “ Gentlemen in 
 Black,” who have fast confidence in him. They 
 like him even better than Silken Thomas, who, 
 since his elevation, has rather declined in favour. 
 
 However, upon this occasion, the “ Gentlemen 
 in Black” received the visit of Will-o’-the-Whisp 
 and his friends with a degree of coolness which 
 reached freezing point. When the object of the 
 deputation was fully explained, many of “the 
 gentlemen” declared that the complaint of the 
 poor woman against Goodman’s establishment 
 was founded on justice, that her claim was valid, 
 and that if they were to interfere, it would be to 
 take her part, while others refused point-blank 
 to meddle in the matter. 
 
 Then, Will-o’-the-Whisp, who had been the 
 spokesman, coming to a full stop, with a puzzled 
 face, looked at Lord Silvertongue. 
 
 But Silken Thomas only turned on his heel, 
 as if to look out of the window, humming an air. 
 As he turned, however, he skilfully dropped a 
 word into Goodman’s ear. 
 
 William immediately came forward, bowing to 
 the earth, and addressed the “ Gentlemen in 
 Black.” 
 
 “He was but a poor pedlar,” he said, “who 
 
100 
 
 cc Cheap John’s ” Auction . 
 
 had to work for a living, and had come to the 
 town solely to obtain their venerable patronage. 
 If they would but look kindly upon him, step 
 across the street to inspect the stock, they would, 
 he ventured to hope, be interested by the inspec¬ 
 tion. For not only were his goods the best value, 
 but also the cheapest hitherto exhibited by any 
 house in the trade; and, moreover, he had been 
 careful to provide a particular package of trinkets 
 to supply the special needs and comforts of “ the 
 gentlemen” themselves, and these he pledged his 
 honour should be offered at the invoice price, 
 without a penny profit to himself.” 
 
 At this one or two of “ the gentlemen” looked at 
 him with kindly eyes. 
 
 “In truth, my motive is that you might see 
 the good things which I have in stock,” added 
 William, boldly. “ It is on that account chiefly 
 that I ask you to preserve me from the scandalous 
 interference of that reckless and unfortunate fe¬ 
 male. The parcel intended for you has been 
 unfortunately packed in the bottom of the ham¬ 
 per, so that the articles which are uppermost must 
 first be sold off before we can reach down to where 
 your things are lying snug at the bottom. You 
 will perceive that, unless this woman be con¬ 
 trolled, the auction cannot proceed, and I shall be 
 unable to reach those valuable commodities which 
 I believe you would be well pleased to obtain.” 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 101 
 
 At this a few of “ the gentlemen” answered 
 civilly, that they were not unwilling to trade with 
 William and his firm—not in principle—as they 
 had ever regarded him personally as a respectable 
 tradesman, although the company he frequented 
 was not always the best. Then it was asked di¬ 
 rectly, what kind of goods he had to offer. 
 
 William replied evasively, that the varieties 
 of these goods were manifold, but that they all 
 were cheap. 
 
 This, “the gentlemen” said, would not do at all; 
 he should be more explicit. An exact and specific 
 list of the wares should be furnished, should be 
 written out in a legible hand, before they could en¬ 
 tertain, or even take the subject into consideration. 
 
 To this William was about to reply, when 
 several “ Gentlemen” put forth their hands and 
 stopped him. They would have nothing more 
 from him, they said; they could not place perfect 
 reliance on his word ; but if his two partners 
 would speak privately upon the subject, they were 
 prepared to listen. Whereupon William, nothing 
 loth, withdrew out of hearing into a distant 
 window, and Will-o’-the-Whisp and Lord Silver- 
 tongue advanced to the centre of the group. 
 
 Then “the Gentlemen” gathered round, asking 
 what it was that Goodman had stored in the 
 bottom of the basket, adjuring them both, in a 
 solemn manner, to tell the entire and perfect truth. 
 
102 
 
 “ Cheap John’s ” Auction. 
 
 “ I never told even a white lie in all my life, 
 that I can remember—that is”—said Will-o’-the- 
 Whisp. 
 
 “ Persons of my order don’t swear, hut I give 
 you my word of honour,” said his lordship, Sil- 
 vertongue, with an offended air. 
 
 “ So !” said “the gentlemen.” “ Go on—we’ll 
 believe you. You were both at the packing of 
 the hamper; tell us what he put into it. Tell us 
 everything without reserve.” 
 
 “ The first thing which I saw put into the 
 basket,” said Will-o’-the-Whisp, endeavouring to 
 keep a serious countenance—“ the first thing 
 which I saw put into the basket was a new game, 
 an educational puzzle, which will be found of 
 much advantage to the children under your care. 
 A very ingenious and creditable, although an 
 intricate piece of workmanship. Besides, there 
 was a supply of primers, hooks, maps, and things 
 connected with the game.” 
 
 “ Anything else ?” 
 
 “ Also, a model of a college—don’t he alarmed, 
 not a ‘ model school,’ nothing like it, quite a 
 different sort of thing—a model of a college of a 
 new construction, the doors and windows of which 
 open and shut of themselves.” 
 
 “ But shall we be able to open and shut them 
 from the inside ?” 
 
 “ Certainly. The key of the hall-door will be 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 1G3 
 
 given up to you, so that you may fast lock all the 
 doors, and bolt down all the windows, and keep 
 out any poisonous atmosphere or influence you 
 don’t like, or any body you don’t like.” 
 
 At this “the Gentlemen” looked quite pleased. 
 One of them, in a timid voice, enquired if the 
 college was empty ? 
 
 “ Quite !” was the answer. “ Quite empty; so 
 that you will be free to furnish it according to 
 your fancy.” 
 
 “But is there nothing whatever in it?” per¬ 
 sisted “the Gentleman.” “Does it not contain 
 any precious and necessary thing?” 
 
 Silken Thomas answered—“ The most precious 
 and necessary intellectual thing which a college 
 can contain is- 
 
 “ I did not say intellectual,” replied the “Gen¬ 
 tleman,” interrupting. “I did not refer to that; 
 I meant something more substantial.” 
 
 “But surely the most substantial thing which 
 a college can contain is knowledge,” reiterated 
 Silken Thomas. 
 
 “Perhaps you will understand my meaning 
 better,” continued the. querist, addressing Will- 
 o’-the-Whisp, point blank. “ Did you see any¬ 
 thing more substantial even than knowledge 
 placed inside the college?” 
 
 “ I did. I did see something else placed safe 
 inside the college,” answered Will-o’-the-Whisp, 
 
104 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 emphatically. “ You need not refer to it. I 
 understand your meaning—quiet your anxiety. 
 It is there.” 
 
 “ That will do,” answered one of “the Gentle¬ 
 men,” rubbing his hands. 
 
 “ And in addition to that, I saw a Royal 
 Charter attached to the college,” continued Will- 
 o’the-Whisp. 
 
 “Is not that a ship? A bad omen. Is not 
 ‘ Royal Charter ’ the name of a ship which went 
 down with everybody?” nervously asked another 
 of “the Gentlemen,” addressing his brethren. 
 
 “But this Royal Charter is certain not to go 
 down with anybody—there is the difference,” 
 whispered Will-o’-the-Whisp into the ear of 
 Silken Thomas. 
 
 “ What is it you say ?” asked one of the “Gen¬ 
 tlemen,” who was quick of hearing. 
 
 “ I was observing that this Royal Charter, 
 unlike its foundered namesake, will swim to the 
 end of the voyage, and also float the whole system 
 with which it is associated,” answered Will-o’- 
 the-Whisp, hardily. “ I am satisfied about that. 
 Let cavillers talk, I have as little doubt about 
 the inherent buoyancy of the whole project, or 
 speculation, with which this Charter is associated, 
 as I have of—of—the honesty of William Good¬ 
 man. As little doubt of either-” 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 105 
 
 “ As I have myself, perhaps,” said Lord Silver- 
 tongue. 
 
 “Exactly so,” said the other, at fault for a 
 word. “ As Lord Silvertongue has himself-” 
 
 This was the finishing stroke. At this, the 
 body of gentlemen went over to where William 
 Goodman was standing alone. 
 
 They expressed themselves now satisfied about 
 the goods he had to sell, and declared that they 
 were ready to go over to his Waggon as 
 customers; also, to arrange that there should 
 he no further obstruction from the woman. 
 
 “And for my part,” added Goodman, “I 
 will endeavour to sell off all the top things 
 quickly, so as to get to the bottom of the basket 
 before evening, and you will then obtain those 
 articles which you want so badly—which you 
 ought to have had long ago, and which can only 
 be obtained genuine at my counter. The Educa¬ 
 tional Puzzle, College, and Eoyal Charter.” 
 
 “ Et caetera ,” added one of “the Gentlemen.” 
 “ Don’t forget.” 
 
 “ Et caetera of course,” added William, colour¬ 
 ing. 
 
 “The Gentlemen” promptly fulfilled their pro¬ 
 mise. In a short time, almost before William 
 could reach the Caravan, they were in the middle 
 of the disturbed street, quelling the riot, remon¬ 
 strating with the mob, whom the woman’s 
 
106 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 eloquence had now excited to fury, causing the 
 ringleaders to fall into the background, and strik¬ 
 ing the poised missile from many a willing hand. 
 At their approach the most active partizans of 
 the woman dispersed. She sat upon a door-step, 
 and began to cry bitterly when the peace-makers 
 drew near. Well she appreciated their influence 
 and power. Her memory was keen enough. 
 “The Gentlemen” had performed a similar con¬ 
 siderate office before for some of Goodman’s pre¬ 
 decessors in the Caravan business; and as she had 
 lived to regret their action then, so had they lived 
 to repent it likewise. 
 
 But people are always slow to learn from the 
 experience of others—from the teaching of politi¬ 
 cal events: otherwise how could history repeat 
 itself as it does. 
 
 Yet “the Gentlemen” did not address her in 
 harsh or unkindly terms. Quite otherwise. They 
 did not deny the existence of her grievous wrongs, 
 the justice of her complaint. They did not at¬ 
 tempt to condemn her efforts to obtain redress 
 
 had a true compassion 
 for her condition; but (this was their only argu¬ 
 ment) the time was at the moment inopportune, 
 they said. It would give scandal to the neigh¬ 
 bourhood if she continued to agitate at present, 
 and they should prevent any sort of scandal. 
 There was a time for fiddling, a time for fighting, 
 
 and deliverance. They 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 107 
 
 a time for dancing, a time for being at rest, and 
 now it was time for her to be quiet. There had 
 been rioting enough; and now, if she were not 
 disposed to attend to remonstrance, and observe 
 order, they must exercise their authority—their 
 legitimate authority. 
 
 That was the whole of it. However pressing 
 her case, they would not suffer it to interfere with 
 the prosecution of their own affairs, which were 
 no less important than hers. They had come to 
 this auction determined to do business, to pur¬ 
 chase certain precious articles at William’s coun¬ 
 ter. They believed him to be an honest trades¬ 
 man, and knew that he had on sale the very 
 peculiar things which they so particularly wanted. 
 Therefore the auction must be suffered to proceed ; 
 they desired—they insisted that it should; and 
 concluded by saying, that if she attempted to 
 raise her voice again, they would order her off 
 out of the street altogether. 
 
 At this the creature only sobbed. It was hard, 
 cruel, unfair treatment, she moaned. But it did 
 not cross her mind to disobey or dispute the 
 mandate of “ the Gentlemen;” for she had not 
 only a great reverence and respect for them, but 
 much sincere affection beside. So she huddled 
 into the door-way, drawing her ragged draperies 
 about, the starved and peevish child, moaning the 
 while. 
 
108 “ Cheap John's" Auction. 
 
 Alongside on the door-flag stood the basket of 
 matches: it was all she had in the world to live 
 by—her whole stock in trade. 
 
 Some of the “ Gentlemen in Black,” noticing 
 the basket of matches, whispered among them¬ 
 selves. 
 
 It was plainly dangerous, they said, to allow a 
 person of her excitable temperament to be carry¬ 
 ing such combustible things about the open 
 streets, especially in the neighbourhood of Good¬ 
 man’s Caravan, filled as that was with light straw, 
 waste paper, and all sorts of inflammable mate¬ 
 rials. A catastrophe might occur at any moment; 
 and if the Waggon were by chance to catch fire, 
 what a calamity to the nation at large—to every 
 one. As a measure of precaution, therefore, one 
 of ‘ ‘ the Gentlemen ’ ’ went to a pump which was 
 close by, and fetching a vessel of water, poured it 
 deliberately into the woman’s basket, wetting all 
 the lucifers, fusees, and crackers, so that they 
 could never catch fire, or do any harm again. 
 
 At this the outraged woman started erect. 
 “ Take care !” she cried; “ you did this before— 
 you did the same thing in ’98. At that time it 
 was not some miserable boxes of matches which 
 I had for sale, but real cartridges, powder and 
 ball, and bomb-shells. Yet you damped them on 
 me—you destroyed them. You thought you were 
 acting wisely then, as you probably think at pre- 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 109 
 
 sent. Take care ! you may find out the mistake 
 when it is too late. You may repent when the 
 opportunity is past. Lucifer matches are things 
 which it may come to your own turn to want, and 
 before long.” 
 
 But Lucifer, who had been all this time peep¬ 
 ing through the blind from one of the back win¬ 
 dows of the Waggon, gave a great laugh when he 
 saw the cold water poured on the basket of lucifer 
 matches. “ Although matches are things for 
 wdiich I have personally a fondness, still I am 
 well pleased at the destruction of this basketful,” 
 he cried, running off to tell William Goodman of 
 the turn affairs had taken. 
 
 William was lying in a state of coma. The 
 noises in the street, the demeanour of the people, 
 and the fatigues of the morning, had quite un¬ 
 nerved and upset him. But he jumped up bright 
 and refreshed when Lucifer arrived with this 
 welcome item of news. 
 
 Silken Thomas, refreshing himself with a 
 sherry-cobbler on the sofa, was suddenly en¬ 
 veloped in the eager embrace of the head of the 
 firm, who began to utter compliments on his 
 cleverness and tact, declaring that he had saved 
 the Caravan—that he was an example for them 
 all to follow, and a credit to his country. 
 
 “ I knew the ‘ Gentlemen in Black’ could do it 
 if they would ; they have performed the same 
 
110 “ Cheap John's ’’ Auction . 
 
 thing so often, they know how to go about it,” 
 said Lord Silvertongue, modestly blushing at the 
 compliments. “ But what are we do about those 
 goods ‘ the gentlemen’ want,” he added, looking 
 straight into William’s face—“the Puzzle, the 
 Charter, and those other little things ? We have 
 pledged our word, or our honour, or something 
 of the sort; have n’t we ?” 
 
 “ But these wares are such a long w^ay down in 
 the bottom of the basket, and are very difficult to 
 get at. And there are so many other articles 
 which will fetch more money for the concern, 
 which must he sold off first,” said William Good¬ 
 man, drooping his eyelids; “besides, they have 
 spoiled the woman’s matches and fusees, and she 
 cannot do us any more harm now.” 
 
 “ Of course. Naturally, one can understand 
 that, and you are certainly the best judge,” 
 answered Lord Silvertongue, hastily. “ It would 
 be better, however, if you kept those details 
 of business from my knowledge altogether. I 
 have a character to lose; and it would look more 
 creditable, more respectable and be more use¬ 
 ful for all of us—Perhaps it would be wiser for 
 me not ‘to be seen behind the counter to-day; 
 so I will just step back across the street again, if 
 you please, and finish having my hair curled,” 
 added Silken Thomas, going off quickly with his 
 silver tongue in his cheek. 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. Ill 
 
 Then William ordered the kettle-drums and 
 whistles to strike up afresh, to attract the crowd, 
 which had somewhat thinned because of the delay 
 and interruptions; and in a while, when a re¬ 
 spectable number had re-assembled, he took his 
 hammer out of his pocket, mounted the plat¬ 
 form, and began to puff and praise his wares, in 
 his usual clear and confident tone. People re¬ 
 turned to buy, a little slowly at first, but gradually 
 with more spirit; for business confidence was 
 returning, and the goods looked cheap. 
 
 All traces of the recent confusion presently 
 disappeared under the action of the healthy com¬ 
 mercial spirit which begun to develop. The 
 sales went on briskly, but the eyes of “ the Gentle¬ 
 men ” were fixed on the auctioneer. 
 
 They stood apart in a group by themselves, not 
 heeding that neither Goodman nor the public 
 were pleased by their exclusive and resolute de¬ 
 meanour. A large hamper had been placed upon 
 the platform, and William began to draw forth 
 the different objects out of it, to sell them off* 
 with such rapidity that it must soon be emptied. 
 “ The Gentlemen” calculated that it should, and 
 evidently it was their intention to remain until 
 the bottom was reached. Not a movement of the 
 salesman escaped their attention. 
 
 William began to recognize the growing diffi¬ 
 culties of his position. The problem was to keep 
 
112 
 
 “Cheap John's ” Auction. 
 
 “the Gentlemen” in a passive state until it was 
 too late to continue business ; and this without 
 at the same time losing his essential popularity 
 with his customers and the public. 
 
 This was not easy. 
 
 At length, annoyed by the sort of magnetic 
 influence which this constant watchfulness was 
 beginning to exercise on his mind—anxious to 
 divert their attention if hut for a moment—Good¬ 
 man drew out a crackling parchment of great 
 length, garnished with official seals and tapes, and 
 held it up, inviting with his eye the attention of 
 the group. , 
 
 Somebody murmured the word “Royal Char¬ 
 ter.” The eyes of “the Gentlemen” began to 
 sparkle. 
 
 “Is it really the thing you know at last?” 
 asked some one, in an audible whisper. 
 
 William nodded, but immediately corrected 
 himself. 
 
 “Not exactly, I believe,” he observed aloud, 
 holding the document close up to his eyes, as if 
 not quite sure of its character. “ Not exactly 
 that, hut something marvellously like it—some¬ 
 thing that you will he almost as well pleased to 
 obtain, and which you may lock up in your ar¬ 
 chives, and leave as a memento to your children.” 
 
 “ The title of it. Name it at once,” exclaimed 
 
 a voice. 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 113 
 
 i 
 
 “ You have hit it off exactly,” replied William. 
 “ Title is the title of it. The Titles Act.” 
 
 “ What on earth is the use of that?” inquired 
 one of “ the Gentlemen,” in a tone of disgust. 
 “ That document is quite out of date, now. No¬ 
 body cares whether you sell or keep it. Wliat do 
 you expect us to do with it ?” 
 
 “As one of the curiosities of literature, I 
 thought you might wish to become possessors of 
 it,” answered William, blandly. 
 
 “I object to the term,” exclaimed the Jew 
 Trovato. “It is a libel. That ‘ Curiosity of 
 Literature/ gentlemen, is not the work of any 
 member of my family, or of any of my friends”— 
 
 “We are aware of that.” 
 
 “ You may guess the author by the handiwork. 
 It is the sole achievement of a very small person 
 with a large mind, ffull of liberal ideas—very! A 
 literary man, and very learned, too,” sneered the 
 Jew. 
 
 Little John slipped under the platform out of 
 sight. 
 
 “ The Gentlemen” regarded the offer of the 
 Titles Act in the light of an insult. Some of 
 the body addressed William in loud tones of re¬ 
 monstrance. 
 
 But he did not heed. It was plain that the 
 people were becoming impatient at the continued 
 presence of “ the Gentlemen” there ; so, taking 
 
 n 
 
114 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 advantage of the hostile spirit of the populace, 
 our Cheap John assumed a defiant and offensive 
 air towards them. The end was very near, now, 
 and it was the only policy open for him to adopt. 
 
 “ They are an ungrateful set. Ungrateful!” 
 he repeated, addressing the crowd, and solemnly 
 waving his hand in the direction of the group. 
 “ After all that I have done for them, and all that 
 I intended to do still, to manifest such a temper.” 
 
 Then folding up the Titles Act into a bundle, 
 he cast it contemptuously into the crowd, saying, 
 rudely— 
 
 “ You may take or leave it as you please. I 
 have my business to attend to, and cannot afford 
 to waste more time, humouring your moods and 
 caprices.” 
 
 Having uttered these caustic words, William 
 turned his back on the astonished “ Gentlemen,” 
 and with a rapid, business-like air, began to pull 
 things out of the basket to offer them for sale, 
 and to knock them down with the speed of light¬ 
 ning. The people seeing that business was in¬ 
 tended, began to bid in earnest, so the basket was 
 visibly becoming empty. 
 
 However, “ the Gentlemen in Black” did not 
 take prompt offence, as William intended they 
 should, nor either depart in anger, as he had 
 hoped that they might. 
 
 After the first moment of surprise, they endured 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 115 
 
 tlie insult in silence. They did not break the 
 peace—they simply held their own, but they also 
 held their ground. 
 
 This was a disappointment to the Cheap John, 
 who desired only to get rid of them, in order to 
 close sales, and finish the prosperous business 
 of the day. He was indifferent to the account 
 which “the Gentlemen” might demand of him 
 afterwards, so that he could escape at the moment 
 from the annoyance of their surveillance. But 
 it was in vain that he desired it. They would 
 not go. It became plain that they had no inten¬ 
 tion whatever of stirring. Their eyes were fixed 
 steadily as ever upon the basket. They measured 
 the degree of its emptiness by the excessive 
 stooping which William had to execute in order 
 to reach to each successive object. In a while, it 
 was evident that if the hamper yet contained any¬ 
 thing at all, it could only be the College, the 
 Charter, and the other things, which had been so 
 patiently waited for. The bottom must be reached 
 at last, and accordingly the general excitement 
 gathered to a point. A crisis was imminent. 
 The eyes of “ the Gentlemen ” were inexorably 
 expectant. 
 
 What was honest William to do to save his 
 honour and reputation ?—what possible device 
 adopt ? 
 
 A ray of inspiration visited him. 
 
116 
 
 “Cheap John's ” Auction. 
 
 All at once he uttered a cry—a piercing scream, 
 that hurst through the heart of the crowd, caus¬ 
 ing everyone to start into attention. Then he 
 lifted up the now light and empty basket by both 
 handles, and holding it high aloft, over the heads 
 of the people, let every one see that the bottom 
 had been cut out of it. 
 
 “ Some villain—a scoundrel has done this!” 
 William exclaimed, at the top of his voice. 
 “ The bottom of my basket has been removed. 
 See! the twigs have been cut away by the knife 
 of some assassin — some moral assassin. The 
 goods and pretty things, which I had keeping for 
 those “Gentlemen” some outcast, irreverent re¬ 
 probate has stolen—made away with. It’s enough 
 to make the blood boil; enough to make one go 
 into a monastery, and retire from business alto¬ 
 gether—such depravity in our poor human nature,” 
 he added, dropping his face in his hands, pretend¬ 
 ing to be overwhelmed with emotion. 
 
 “ The Gentlemen,” taken by surprise, stood 
 gaping helplessly into each other’s faces. 
 
 “ It is a shame!” exclaimed William, recover¬ 
 ing slowly from the first violence of his feelings, 
 and searching for his pocket-handkerchief. “It 
 is a shame!” he added, blowing his nose very 
 hard. 
 
 “ It is very clever indeed—very,” cried out the 
 Jew, on the crosstree of the lamp-post. 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 117 
 
 “ The Gentlemen” looked up at the sound. 
 The Jew was grinning at them from his perch. 
 
 “ Sold again!” he said, clicking his tongue. 
 
 “ Such a fraud on a respectable tradesman,” 
 William continued, whimpering. “ I shall cer¬ 
 tainly hand the matter over to the authorities. 
 I shall place it in the hands of the police, and 
 publish it in the daily papers.” 
 
 “ Oh, dolts ! How long will you continue to 
 be gulled in this open fashion? Can you not re¬ 
 cognise another form of the old basket trick, which 
 he originally acquired from your smooth friend, 
 Silken Thomas,” said the Jew, sliding down the 
 lamp-post, and landing right in the middle of 
 the group. “ Can you not see that he never had 
 any bottom to the basket at all.” 
 
 At this, the “ Gentlemen in Black” looked as 
 black as thunder. 
 
 “ Don’t you perceive that, having now sold off 
 his wares—having done his business, and taken 
 a turn out of you,” added the Jew, “that he 
 snaps his fingers, and laughs at your discomfi¬ 
 ture—laughs at the solemn promises which you 
 were so imbecile as to believe in. Pay attention, 
 you shall judge.” 
 
 It was true enough, even though the Jew had 
 said it. 
 
 For no sooner had William recovered from the 
 apparent shock of the basket robbery, than he 
 
118 
 
 “ Cheap John's 1 ' Auction. 
 
 summoned the company together, and under 
 direction of Lucifer, who was an excellent 
 mechanic, they all set to work with hammers 
 and pinchers to pull the platform rapidly 
 asunder, and bundle it pell-mell into the Wag¬ 
 gon. The stones were struck from under the 
 wheels; and Little John, the Phoenix, the Great 
 Di spencer, and all the rest, began to get into 
 their top-coats and wrappers in a precious hurry, 
 laughing and chuckling amongst themselves at 
 the way the respectable “ Black Gentry" had 
 been deceived. Some said that William had 
 never acted better in all his life; that the basket 
 trick was superb; that he was one of the smartest 
 of men, equal to Barnum—to anybody on the 
 other side of the Atlantic, and that after George 
 Francis Train, he deserved to be the next Presi¬ 
 dent of America. 
 
 They all mounted on the Waggon, and got 
 under weigh with surprising speed. Lucifer took 
 charge of the reins, and began to thwack the 
 ragged back of the hungry donkey with his 
 cudgel. And William Goodman, mounting on 
 the dickey, took out his own trumpet, and began 
 to blow it triumphantly, as the machine moved 
 slowly up the street, escorted by the crowd which 
 followed in its wake. 
 
 The mob was now hearty and good-humoured. 
 A few voices called after the discomfited “ Gen- 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 119 
 
 tlemen,” in mocking tones. There were some 
 parting notes of triumph, catcalls and whistling, 
 in the distance ; and the street was deserted by 
 all but “the Gentlemen,” the woman, and the 
 Jew, Ben Trovato. “ The Gentlemen,” still 
 stupified, stood apart. 
 
 “You have no right to he astonished at this 
 occurrence,” exclaimed the Jew; “ not the least. 
 Notwithstanding your reputation for insight, you 
 frequently fail, I conceive, in astuteness; and in 
 
 this case have certainly exhibited, not the pro- 
 
 » 
 
 verbial wisdom of the serpent, but rather the 
 affected simplicity of the dove. You, my friend,” 
 he added, addressing the woman, “ they knew 
 you best, indeed, who first selected for you that 
 
 charming national colour of which you are so 
 
 • ?» 
 vain. 
 
 The woman remained moaning on the door¬ 
 step; “the Gentlemen” looked gloomily indiffe¬ 
 rent, as if they did not hear. 
 
 “ You look at each other with wondering eyes. 
 How often, alas! must you both be deceived 
 again before experience shall teach either of you 
 to open those eyes,” the Jew continued. “The 
 world may be wicked, but it would not be so 
 deceitful only for the number of fools who are 
 walking abroad. It is the abundance of fools 
 that breeds so many rogues. If people will go 
 
120 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ' Auction . 
 
 on walking out with their eyes closed, ? tis next 
 to impossible for other people to avoid setting 
 gins for them to walk into—human nature can't 
 resist ‘ doing it.'” 
 
 “ To think that he of all men—that William 
 Goodman should have been guilty of such a 
 trick,” murmured one of “ the Gentlemen.” 
 
 “ Which—the Basket Trick? It was uncom¬ 
 monly well done; capital. The most creditable 
 performance of the present management which I 
 have witnessed,” exclaimed the Jew, with enthu¬ 
 siasm. “ I scarcely thought it in Goodman, to 
 go through it so well.” 
 
 “ To think there should be a false bottom to 
 the basket!” 
 
 “False bottom! Bless you, that basket is 
 one of the properties of the Caravan—a regular 
 fixture of the office, like the hat-rack and the 
 coal-scuttle,” continued the Jew. “To each 
 successive tenant, that basket is handed over as 
 regularly as the key of the door. We never could 
 carry on the trade, and keep down Popery and 
 troublesome claimants who, like that woman, 
 attack the managers of the Caravan, but for the 
 false bottom. I thought you knew that—I thought 
 you found it out by your own wits long ago. 
 That basket is regarded as one of the bulwarks of 
 the Church by all the old Protestant ladies. It 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 121 
 
 is called the “ No Popery;” and is prayed for, 
 along with the memory of King William, regu¬ 
 larly at Exeter Hall. Half the good women of 
 London believe that but for the false bottom, 
 wooden shoes would be down upon us in a twink¬ 
 ling. When in business I thought to try it also, 
 but deemed the trick worn out. I imagined you 
 must discover it at once. Mistake !—I did not 
 suppose you so innocent.” 
 
 “ You could never have deceived us. Y T our 
 name is too notorious for that,” answered one of 
 “ the Gentlemen/’ now addressing the Jew 
 directly. “ I don’t wish to he uncivil, but you 
 must be aware that your character is already too 
 —too famous—” 
 
 “ Out with it—too infamous you would say,” 
 joined in the Jew, laughing. 
 
 u We don’t say any such thing—we don’t wish 
 to be unmannerly; but you will understand that 
 between us there never can be sympathy, never 
 even anything but hostility.” 
 
 “ Yet there ivas something else between us 
 not so long ago, you may remember.” 
 
 “ If there was we are sorry for it, and there 
 never will be again, you may rely,” answered 
 “ the Gentleman.” “ Our ways are necessarily 
 divergent; you must recognise that yourself. It 
 must be so, as we are essentially Christians, 
 
122 
 
 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction . 
 
 while, unhappily, you are—but I dislike being 
 too plain spoken.” 
 
 “ While I am, probably, a ‘ heathen Chinee 
 pray proceed/’ 
 
 “ While you are a pagan—I grieve to apply the 
 term. A pagan—that is, our declared antago¬ 
 nist.” 
 
 “ Even if it were so, better an open enemy 
 than a false friend—than a false friend like the 
 respectable, peddling personage who has just taken 
 you in so serenely, I imagine,” observed the 
 Jew. “ But if you dislike me, does it follow that 
 I must hate you back in turn ? It is not so, be¬ 
 lieve me; it cannot be. We pagans have n’t it 
 in us to hate each other, like you Christians.” 
 
 “ We Christians are all brothers,” replied se¬ 
 veral of “ the Gentlemen,” in one voice. 
 
 “ Cain and Abel were brothers, too,” rejoined 
 Trovato. 
 
 “ Your principles must for ever keep us apart. 
 There are some things which we never could get 
 over”— 
 
 “ Things, perhaps—not principles ! I never 
 encountered a principle yet that an intelligent 
 man could not get over. Principle is the ‘ Pons 
 Assinorum ’—a problem only to dunderheads— 
 none but certain quadrupeds ever stop at the other 
 side of that bridge.” 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 123 
 
 “ Shocking !—but not unnatural: the fruits of 
 paganism.” 
 
 “ Modern pagans need not profess paganism— 
 recognise that essential peculiarity,” said Trovato, 
 cheerfully. “ Why not shake hands ? If we are 
 enormously apart, yet extremes meet. Let ex¬ 
 tremists embrace. I am without prejudice of any 
 sort. I am as unfettered by prejudice as—as by 
 principle, you would probably say. Ha !” 
 
 “ When a person has no creed whatever, be¬ 
 lieves in nothing; moreover, openly practises what 
 he believes”— 
 
 “But I have several creeds, and believe in 
 every one of them.” 
 
 “For instance—instruct us.” 
 
 “ I believe, first, in—in the Asian mystery, for 
 example.” 
 
 “ Vague.” 
 
 “ Next, in British mystification. I believe in 
 that thoroughly, and it is positive enough ; plenty 
 of salvation in it, too.” 
 
 “ You associate with Philistines ; you worship 
 with them openly; you consort with Capulets, 
 and we are Montagues, all. Thereby, we cannot 
 mingle,” rejoined “ the Gentlemen,” severely. 
 
 “ But I am ready to eat both Philistines and 
 Capulets, the day after to-morrow, if only some¬ 
 body will see to the cooking. Being, as you 
 say, below principle, and, as I aver, above pre- 
 
124 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction . 
 
 judice, it necessarily follows that I am of all 
 things a”— 
 
 “Comedian,” suggested one of “the Gentle¬ 
 men in Black,” smiling. 
 
 “And Conservative, too. Don’t let us forget 
 —don’t on any account forget—that I belong to 
 a party.” 
 
 “ Swift said, ‘ Party was the madness of the 
 Many for the gain of the Few.’ ” 
 
 “ And I quite agree with the admirable Dean,” 
 answered the Jew, briskly. “ Do let us shake 
 hands. We should like each other better, if only 
 better acquainted. If our interests are not appa¬ 
 rently the same, we are nevertheless united 
 by the secret bonds of mutual instincts. Per¬ 
 haps we have different methods of obeying these 
 instincts, but we do obey them. Besides, we 
 have much in common that we cannot disguise. 
 We reverence the antique ; we venerate tradition; 
 we respect birth and culture, and abominate the 
 herd—proofs of our fine-bred Eastern origin. 
 We have a mutual contempt for that vile product 
 of Western vulgarity, personal independence. 
 We spring from the same root as the superb 
 Latin races ; and despise alike the mean indus¬ 
 tries and bourgeois affluence of these boors of 
 the West. We have each a deep respect for the 
 foibles of the other. We are sympathetic. In 
 different w T ays we are each, by conviction, reli- 
 
How the Obstruction came to he Removed. 125 
 
 gious.—Do not smile.—You, practically, solidly; 
 sentimentally, I. Wherein is the essential diffe¬ 
 rence ? Sentiment is the exaltation of the soul, 
 the fermentation of its impulses, generated by 
 the fervour of fancy, by imaginative affection. 
 Combined, these forces accomplish the transfigu¬ 
 ration of the spiritual being. Then only does the 
 immortal emit its perfect fragrance. Practical 
 religion, after that, becomes an impediment, an 
 obstructive superfluity. Arrived at this stage of 
 perfection, the spiritual essence is beyond reach of 
 contamination by earth. It is not then within the 
 scope of grosser influences to soil the ethereal, im¬ 
 palpable purity of the sentimental conscience- 
 
 But I am prepared to be depreciated—I was ever 
 incompris,” continued Trovato, observing smiles 
 on the surrounding faces ; “ when in business, if I 
 had been less sentimental and more practical, I 
 should have been less moral but better under¬ 
 stood, and better liked by you also. I was too 
 straightforward, too truthful. Alas ! ” 
 
 “ The Gentlemen” laughed out. 
 
 “It is a fact. I failed through excessive 
 candour. I exposed my hand at once, instead 
 of shamming it on audaciously to the end, 
 like Goodman. Everybody might have seen 
 that I cared for nothing from the beginning— 
 for nothing but holding on as tenant and mana- 
 
126 “ Cheap Johns ” Auction. 
 
 ger of the Caravan. No disguise was put on my 
 motives.” 
 
 “ But that was neither moral or conscientious; 
 that was not a proper spirit with which to embark 
 in business—to engage or conduct so important 
 a concern—and would be of itself sufficient to 
 keep us from having anything to do with you.” 
 
 “But it hadn’t that effect, you may remember,” 
 answered Ben Trovato, slyly. 
 
 “ Let by-gones be.” 
 
 “ Agreed, let by-gones die ; nevertheless, could 
 I have had my w T ay then, you should have had 
 everything you desired. What did I care that 
 you were chartered, endowed, pensioned. I would 
 willingly have brought everything you wanted 
 into the Waggon, and the Williamites should 
 have agreed to it, only the donkey would n’t. 
 There was the rub. The donkey got a sudden 
 return of his old spirit, kicked up his heels, and 
 refused to tug. It was quite an unexpected acci¬ 
 dent. Finding no other way of dealing with him, 
 we had to throw your little things overboard to 
 lighten the load. If I could have managed the 
 donkey, you might have managed me with ease. 
 If the brute had only been tractable, I would have 
 set up signboard with Principle, Honour, and 
 Honesty—all those things painted on it that Wil¬ 
 liam and the rest of the celestial lot are eternally 
 making such a capital out of. It is easy to be 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed. 127 
 
 respectable when a man’s position in the world is 
 safe. Becky Sharp would have turned virtuous 
 on £5000 a-year. It would have been easy for me 
 to hoist the same colours as the ‘ divine William’s 
 and if ever the chance comes again, see if I 
 don’t—see if I don’t tar myself with the same 
 brush.” 
 
 “ I ever held that you were both tarred with 
 the same brush-—I said so long ago ; only these 
 ‘ Gentlemen’ would not believe me/’ moaned the 
 woman. 
 
 The Jew turned, with an expression of whim¬ 
 sical pity; then, addressing “the Gentlemen/’ 
 said— 
 
 “ To think you should have damped off her 
 lucifers, and squibs, and things. How short¬ 
 sighted! Where are your memories? Remember 
 ’98 ! You treated her in the same way then. 
 You made the like mistake when another famous 
 William was at the head of the Caravan, and you 
 were sorry enough for it afterwards. He, the 
 Pecksniff of the hour, as usual explained that it 
 was your duty to do it. I dare say you thought 
 so then, as perhaps you do at present. He pro¬ 
 mised to reward you with emancipation, and the 
 devil knows what. Well! you got emancipation, 
 and the devil knows what—didn’t you ?” 
 
 “ Yes,” rejoined the woman. “ My family was 
 made free to emigrate or to starve at home, as 
 
128 
 
 “ Cheap John's" Auction. 
 
 they pleased. Yet it was considered a boon at 
 
 the time. These ‘ Gentlemen ’ said so at all 
 
 # 
 
 events, and I believed them.” 
 
 “ And you did right. You do right to work in 
 union together—therein lies your strength; when 
 divided, ’tis all over with both of you. Depend, 
 if ever I obtain control of the Waggon again, 
 I shall make it my business to cultivate your 
 friendship as customers; and if I can’t do that 
 successfully, I shall endeavour to excite your 
 mutual jealousies—to sunder, to destroy you.” 
 
 “ So far honest, at all events,” said a voice. 
 
 “ You flatter; I am not honest—I don’t profess 
 to be—hut I try to be wise, and such a course 
 would be my interest to pursue. Anyway, I think 
 you will find it as profitable in the end to traffic 
 even with my dishonesty as with your blessed Wil¬ 
 liam’s virtue. Will neither of you ever become 
 sharp enough to see that ? Just attend to me for 
 a moment. Give me but leisure to explain, and 
 I will show how manifestly impossible it is for 
 either of you to obtain any terms from that very 
 exalted personage. But first, let us shake hands.” 
 
 “ The Gentlemen” shook their heads. 
 
 “ Will you shake hands then, my friend?” he 
 said, turning to the woman. “ Here, I put my 
 dignity aside, and make the first advance. Here 
 is my hand.” 
 
 “Your hand—yours ! A 7 ou will be offering it 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 129 
 
 to Maryanne perhaps to-morrow/' she answered, 
 scornfully. 
 
 “ As you please. I have done my best to win 
 your confidence, but I see it is no use," said the 
 Jew, resignedly, buttoning up his coat, moving 
 away abruptly. “ I was not endowed by nature 
 with an earnest countenance, and you, who judge 
 by appearances, will not fraternize. As I’m not 
 appreciated, I must try to do without you both. 
 Good morning." 
 
 When Trovato reached the corner of the street 
 he quickened his pace to a run, and was out of 
 sight in a moment. 
 
 “ He is a bad one, but there is not much choice 
 between him and the other," said one of “ the 
 Gentlemen," the same who had poured the water 
 on the woman’s lucifers. 
 
 “ I regret what I did, my dear," he said, turn¬ 
 ing sadly towards her; “ I feel that it was a mis¬ 
 take, and I am sorry for it. These lucifer matches 
 are useful in their way, if only to strike terror 
 into the hearts of lying pedlars and itinerant 
 cheats. I am sorry for what has occurred. It 
 was very indiscreet of me," he added, as tears 
 came into his eyes—“very indiscreet!" He 
 sought for his handkerchief. It was gone. 
 
 Upon this discovery the other “Gentlemen" 
 searched their clothes, only to find that every 
 pocket had been picked. 
 
 i 
 
130 
 
 I 
 
 “ Cheap John's ” Auction . 
 
 The woman glanced at her basket of small 
 wares ; it was empty also. 
 
 The clever Jew had taken the opportunity of 
 picking all their pockets* and escaped with the 
 property. 
 
 “Yet he seemed disposed to amend. I was 
 quite thrown off my guard by his language* by 
 his appearance of penitence,’' said one. 
 
 “ A thief, too! ” 
 
 “Ay! an impenitent thief, like his obdurate 
 
 ancestor—kind for him," continued the first 
 
 % 
 
 “ Gentleman." “ Everyone connected with that 
 Caravan is indeed tarred with the same brush- 
 rogues all—false to a man. This ought to be a 
 final lesson to each of us, 5? he added, glancing at 
 the woman. 
 
 “ Is there no law? ” she inquired. 
 
 “Not for robbing people like us. See! not a 
 policeman in any direction!” 
 
 Presently “the Gentlemen” and the woman, 
 after shaking hands, parted. Her way now lay 
 in an opposite direction from theirs. As she 
 passed through the streets crying—for with her 
 matches and fusees she had lost all her property, 
 her only way of eking out a livelihood—as she 
 hurried over a crossing with the starving child in 
 her arms, a magnificent carriage, with powdered 
 footmen, and a coronet on the panels, nearly 
 drove over her. The gentleman inside reproved 
 
How the Obstruction came to be Removed . 131 
 
 the impetuosity of his coachman* observing that 
 the law was against running clown poor people in 
 the street; it was not the legal way of running 
 them down. As he turned, the woman recognised 
 Lord Silvertongue. He was going to Court in 
 full dress, with his hair curled. 
 
 The recognition was mutual. Lord Silvertongue 
 felt for a coin ; but those provoking dress-breeches 
 have no pockets; so instead, he shook hands with 
 the woman through the carriage window, and 
 
 with his kid glove blessed the child. 
 
 0 
 
 “ The creature is crying with hunger; he is 
 starving,” said the sorrowful mother. 
 
 “Not the.least matter; it will do him good- 
 make him hardy,” answered my lord; “fasting 
 is very wholesome. Bring him up a good man- 
 good and loyal. Keep him away from lucifer 
 matches, dangerous fire works, disreputable fo¬ 
 reign companions, Yankees and the like, and 
 bye-ancl-by, may be Fll do for him. Who knows, 
 if you rear him up to be a barrister he may rise 
 to be a chairman; and if a shopkeeper, perhaps 
 —perhaps—I will yet make a justice of the peace 
 of him,” added my Lord, pulling up the window. 
 
 Porteous and Gibbs, Printers, Dublin. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 I . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
BY 7 
 f 
 
 3 01 
 
 20 
 
 62293797 
 
 t 
 
 
 PRESS. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 i4 It is a caustic satire on the Irish Bar, recording its decline! 
 intellectual power and moral independence. Political ser rilitV 
 the alleged cause of this decadence. There is no promotion a 4 
 reward for legal erudition; but the barrister destitute of Lnowle 
 who can betray his party at any critical moment, and wriggle i 
 the House of Commons, is sure of the Bench and £4,000 a-yea 
 
 Echo. 
 
 “ A remarkably clever pamphlet.” 
 
 Saunders' News-letter . 
 
 “It is impossible to deny that the foregoing descrlp ion of 
 change that has taken place in Irish society since the l mon 
 true one. The fact is, Dublin, and indeed Ireland generally, 
 become plebeianized by the absence of the aristocracy, and 
 upstarting of nobodies into places of prominence.” 
 
 Evening Mail. 
 
 “ Lawyers are rapidly falling into contempt. .... 
 feelings profoundly entertained are beginning to knd hue. .« 
 and :i.*clcv?r pamphlet, in which the causes, the course, and 
 effects o f the decadence of the Bar are sketched with pang 
 truth, has beer: for some days the talk of the town.” 
 
 Nation . 
 
 “A = exposure of the shameful wrong done to 
 
 cftcse ._>r the country by the political conduct of the Irish Bar. 1 
 
 Irishman » 
 
 “It would he impossible to obtain anything ribe an need 
 idea of its good v. ngs without reading it; and whoever beg 
 
 will read it through.” 
 
 Irish Times . 
 
 “ Those wh » desire to govern Ireland by delush n ard legei 
 main, or by any other rule than that of strict Imperial justice 
 i“speetful aeV lowledgmeni of her national light;, w .1 find 
 pamphlet a new difficulty in their way.” 
 
 Evening Telegraph. 
 
 u A careful perusal of this pamphlet will Convince trie re* 
 that it ^as probably been prompted by pique with the pre 
 Administration. But we can afford to pass over this defect 
 the sake oi its undoubted ability, and for the undoubted, tho 
 unpalatable ‘.ruths which it conveys.”