Ratts. Eleven.
Jackson. Twelve.
Sunny. O, O!
Scud. [To Jackson.] Judge, my friend. The Judge is a little deaf. Hello! [Speaking in his ear-trumpet.] This gal and them children belong to that boy Solon there. You're bidding to separate them, Judge.
Jackson. The devil I am! [Rises.] I'll take back my bid, Colonel.
Point. All right, Judge; I thought there was a mistake. I must keep you, Captain, to the eleven hundred.
Ratts. Go it.
Point. Eleven hundred—going—going—sold! "No. 3, Pete, a house servant."
Pete. Dat's me—yer, I'm comin'—stand around dar. [Tumbles upon the table.]
Point. Aged seventy-two.