The Auction Game
This is a most fascinating resource for a wet wintry afternoon, and its preparations are interesting enough to keep a whole houseful of young folk occupied and amused. A large piece of cardboard is cut into twenty-five squares, and on each is pasted a picture of some article taken from advertisements in old newspapers, magazines, or catalogues. The pictures are numbered, and on the back a price in keeping with the article is written.
The more variety there is among the stock for sale the better. It may contain anything from a thoroughbred Persian to a set of ninepins, and the prices may be copied from the catalogues, &c.
When this is done, a mint of paper or cardboard money is manufactured. The range of coin corresponds to the prices of the articles. Should the most expensive of these be marked $500, the paper money must include that amount. Upon each disc of cardboard is written its value.
The guests having arrived, the capital is divided among them in equal portions. If there has been no time to manufacture the coin, imitation money can be purchased quite cheaply, and this lends a greater reality to the game.
The first thing is to secure an auctioneer amongst the party, who possesses a ready flow of language, and is not troubled by shyness. An amiable uncle, or other grown-up relative, will do capitally.
The auctioneer stands on a chair or stool, and cries out the article before him, treating it as if it were real.
He is provided with a hammer, and the company begin an eager bidding for the thing that takes their fancy.
The players, as may be expected, are as anxious as people in a real auction to obtain what they covet at the lowest price possible.
Should a member offer more than he is able to pay, and succeed in being the last to name the highest price, he pays a forfeit of ten cents to each of the other buyers, and the article is again placed on the auctioneer’s table.
The winner is the individual who has got the best value for his money, and has the most capital in hand by the time the twenty-five articles are sold.
It is a good plan to offer prizes—a good one for the discreet and careful buyer, and a “booby” for the poor foolish spendthrift, who has nothing to show at the end of the game.
Excitement and eagerness are increased by the cry of the auctioneer, “Going, going, gone!” and the beat of his hammer.
If he is able to introduce funny narratives concerning the articles into his harangue, so much the better.
For instance, a pair of boots, fashioned from the corpse of the King of Prussia’s pet calf, and the black kid gloves which King Charles II. wore at the funeral of his great-aunt; the mouse-trap that once held prisoner a rodent of aristocratic lineage and purple blood; the ash-tray, into which the burnt cigar of Peter the Great is supposed to have fallen—all should go at a high price.