THE AXE PREMIER’S AUCTION.
Auctioneer. “Fine Chips of the Old Block, Gentlemen! Splendid specimens of the Hawarden Timber, in the Sale of which, Gentlemen, I assure you, I have ‘no Interest whatever.’” (“Hear! hear!”) “Now, Gentlemen, how much shall we say for this Chip, which I lopped off when I was leaving Hawarden—when I was ‘cutting my stick,’ in fact.” (Laughter.) “Who bids for This? Don’t be all Fagot-voting at once!” (Laughter and Cheers.) “Now then,—Fifteen Shillings, Ten Shillings, Seven, Five, Eighteenpence,—any advance on Eighteenpence? Going! Going! Going! Gone! Gone for Eighteenpence, and chip at the Price!” [Auction Continues.]