The shilling grew, so to speak, black in the face.
“I won’t be called a Bob! I’m not a Bob! Who dares call me a Bob?”
“I do, Bob; there, Bob. What do you think of that, Bob? What’s the use of you, Bob, eh? Can you tell the time, Bob, eh, Bob, Bob, Bob?”
And we all took up the cry, and from that moment until the time of our sale every sound, for us, was drowned in a ceaseless cry of “Bob!” in the midst of which the unlucky Queen Anne’s shilling crawled under his watch, and devoutly wished he were as undoubtedly dead as the illustrious royal lady whose image and superscription he had the misfortune to bear.
In due time the sale began. Among the earliest lots I recognised my acquaintance the solid silver sugar-tongs, which went for very nearly his full value, thus confirming me in my belief that, after all, there’s nothing like the genuine thing all the world over.
After the disposal of the silver goods—for which comparatively few people bid, and that with little or no competition—the real excitement of the auction began.
“I have here, ladies and gentlemen,” said the auctioneer, “a remarkably fine and superior lot of silver watches, all of which have been carefully cleaned and kept in order, and which, I can safely say, are equal to, if not better than, new. In many cases the watches are accompanied by chains of a very elegant and chaste description, which appendages considerably enhance their value. When I inform you that we value the contents of this tray, at the very lowest, at £90, being an average of £4 per watch, you will see I am not presenting to you any ordinary lot of goods. I will put up the watches singly in the order in which they are described in the catalogue.”
Some of the company looked as if they were not sure whether they ought not to say “Hear, hear!” after this very elegant and polished speech, but they restrained their admiration, and reserved their energies for the bidding.
As I was last on the list I had full opportunity of noticing how my fellows fared, and was specially curious to see how the three or four watches whose acquaintance I had chanced to make went off.
The common-looking watch with the unlucky “Bob” attached to its chain was knocked down for £3 5 shillings, which, on the whole, was a triumph to the mortified coin, for it is certain without him the lot would not have fetched nearly so much, and his triumph was further enhanced by the fact that the hunter with whom he had had his altercation fetched only £2 17 shillings 6 pence. However, there was no time for jeers and recriminations at present, we were all too deeply absorbed in watching the fate of our fellows and speculating on our own.