“Eight guilders!” cried the echo, “who bids higher?” Then the fire opened again.
“And a quarter,” cried a voice.
“Eight and a half!”
“Eight three quarters!”
“Nine guilders!”
“Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen!”
“Thirteen guilders,” cried the auctioneer, “who bids more than thirteen?”
“I wouldn’t mind,” cried a voice, “if I only knew how to get those confounded pots home to Santjoemeh.”
“Never mind that,” shouted another, “I will take them for you in my cart.”
“Thirteen, twice!” said the auctioneer.