Point. I shall knock it down to the Squire—going—gone—for one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. [Raises hammer.] Judge, you can raise the hull on mortgage—going for half its value. [Knocks.] Squire Sunnyside, you've got a pretty bit o' land, Squire. Hillo, darkey, hand me a smash dar.
Sunny. I got more than I can work now.
Point. Then buy the hands along with the property. Now, gentlemen, I'm proud to submit to you the finest lot of field hands and house servants that was ever offered for competition; they speak for themselves, and do credit to their owners.—[Reads.] "No. 1, Solon, a guess boy, and good waiter."
Pete. [R. C.] That's my son—buy him, Mas'r Ratts; he's sure to sarve you well.
Point. Hold your tongue!
Ratts. [L.] Let the old darkey alone—eight hundred for that boy.
Caillou. Nine.
Ratts. A thousand.
Solon. Thank you, Mas'r Ratts: I die for you, sar; hold up for me, sar.
Ratts. Look here, the boy knows and likes me, Judge; let him come my way?