MOCK AUCTION'S.
The day of mock auctions has gone by, but there are still one or two of these establishments lingering in the city. These are managed in various ways.
At some of these establishments a lot of pencil cases, watches, or other goods, is offered for-sale. The lot generally contains a dozen or a gross of articles. Bids are started by the "decoys" of the proprietor, who are scattered through the crowd, and strangers are thus induced to make offers for them. Each man supposes he is bidding for a single lot, and is greatly astonished to find the whole lot knocked down to him. He is told he must take the entire lot, that his bid was for all. Some are weak enough to comply with the demand, but others resist it.
Admiral Farragut, during the war, made a bid for a penknife at one of these places, and was astonished at being told he must take the whole gross of the article. The old hero was not to be caught in this way, however, and he quietly called in a policeman, and gave the auctioneer in charge for attempting to swindle him.
[Illustration: A Mock Auction—Kicked Out After Being Fleeced.]
A well-known Broadway auctioneer was brought before the Mayor, some time ago, on the following complaint. A gentleman, who appeared against the auctioneer, stated that he had attended his last sale. The auctioneer put up a box containing twelve silver pencil-cases, and the gentleman, supposing from his manner and language, that he was selling them fairly, bid two dollars and fifty cents for the lot. To his surprise, he was told that he had bid two dollars and fifty cents for each pencil-case, and that he must pay thirty dollars for the whole lot. The money had been paid and the auctioneer refused to return it, insisting that the gentleman should take one pencil-case or nothing. The Mayor compelled the scamp to refund the money, and warned him that he would revoke his license if a similar complaint were again made against him.
In some of these establishments, a stranger who attempts to remonstrate against the swindle fares badly. He is hustled out by the confederates of the proprietor, and if he attempts to defend himself, is handed over to the police on a charge of attempting to create a disturbance.
Other establishments sell watches and cheap jewelry. A really good article is put up, and passed around through the crowd as a sample. It draws bids rapidly, and is knocked down to the highest bidder. It has by this time been handed back to the auctioneer, and when the purchaser demands it, he is given some worthless article, which the dealer and his assistants swear was the one exhibited to the crowd. Remonstrances are useless. The bogus article must be taken or the money lost, unless the victim calls in the police. The city authorities have recently stationed a policeman at the door of one of these establishments, to warn strangers of its true character.
A friend of the writer—a "verdant countryman," too—once attended one of these auctions. A magnificent hunting-case watch was put up, and knocked down to John, as we shall call him, at the low price of ten dollars. As the announcement of the sale was made, John, who had his money in his hand, stepped briskly to the desk.
"Will you let me see that watch a minute?" he asked.
"Certainly, sir," said the auctioneer, handing him the watch.
"That's a magnificent watch," said John, admiringly, "and I think I got it pretty cheap!"
"Yes," replied the man, "that's the cheapest watch I ever sold."
"Well," said John, putting the watch in his pocket, and laying his ten dollars on the desk, "I'm very well satisfied with my bargain."
The auctioneer, alarmed for the repeater, which was his own, exclaimed quickly,
"We generally give a case with our watches, sir; let us fit one on that."
"No," said John, quietly, as he turned away, "I'm satisfied with the watch—I don't want a case!"
He walked leisurely away, but the auctioneer sprang after him.
"That watch is not for sale," said the man, angrily.
"It's bought and paid for," said John, coolly, buttoning his coat across his breast.
"I don't want your money, I want my watch!" shouted the man.
"It was a fair sale!" said John. "Gentlemen," he exclaimed, turning to the crowd, "I appeal to you. Was not it a fair sale?"
"Yes!" "Yes!" "Keep the watch!" cried the spectators, delighted that, for once, the sharper had met his match.
[Illustration: How a Countryman "Bought a Watch.">[
A policeman now approached, and John, stating the circumstances of the case to him, placed himself under his protection. The officer and the crowd accompanied him to his hotel, which he reached in safety. He left for home the next morning, taking his prize with him, and to this day boasts that he was "rather too much for New York, if he was from the country!"