"Why, instead of all the fine things loomin out in the wind as I expected for such great marchants, I found nothing but a long empty store, and no shelves even, and there sat two or three starched lookin dogs, on so many old rum bar'ls; I swear I thought in a minute about our old still-house, and the school-master, and the miller, and the blacksmith, and the stiller, talkin politics over the bar'ls, and takin a swig every now and then out of the old proof-vial."
"Well! you presented your draft," said Lamar, "and what then?"
"No I did'nt—I got a straddle of a bar'l too; I thought I would take a dish of chat, for that was about the most I expected to get. Rat me! but I began to feel a little particular about the gizzard in thoughts of sellin old Pete to get home on; I put on a long face. It's everlastin dull times for business, said I. 'O sir, you are quite mistaken, business is taking a look up—it's getting very brisk indeed.' And he rubbed his hands, and looked as glad as if he had had a drink of that hot punch. So, thought I, I'm off the trail; but I thought I would tree him next time. 'The best horses, said I, will stumble sometimes.' 'Sir?' said he, I said 'the honestest men sometimes make bad speculations.' 'Oh!' said he, 'I understand you! but I hope business is brisk and money plenty this season in the west.' Now, thought I, he's got the boot on the wrong leg this time; 'yes, said I, we can't complain, but I must say I thought it looked a little dull hereabouts.' 'O, you western men are such driving fellows, that you can't put up with our slow way of makin money.' He's feedin me on soft corn, thought I. 'We do a little now and then, but getting the money afterward is all our trouble,' said I. 'Why, sir, you have hit the nail upon the head; that's the difficulty everywhere,' said he. I thought I would run him into a stand 'fore long; but he hoisted his tail and flung me clean off the trail agin. 'Can't I sell you half a dozen bar'ls of cognac brandy to-day,' said he. I snapped my fingers and jumped up, and by the long Harry I was near raisin the whoop; for I thought old Pete and the money was all safe, and so it was. 'O! the hunters of Kentucky! old Kentucky;' and he began to sing and caper round the table.
"Did he pay the money?" asked Chevillere.
"Not exactly; these city chaps keep their money buried, I believe, for you never see none of it; I reckon they're 'fraid it'll spile; howsomever, he gave me an order on the bank for the eel-skins."
"Then you took your leave," said Lamar.
"No; he asked me if I had ever seen an auction of a ship's cargo; I said no, I had never seen more nor a Kentuck vendue: he asked me to go along; I'm your man, said I, for I expected there would be smashin work if a whole ship-load was to be sold, for I have seen some very clever little skrimmages at a vendue; well, when we got there, there was boxes and bags all laying in rows, and little troughs laying under them, like them we catch sugar-water in. Some had little long spoons made on purpose to suck sugar with, and some had little augers for boring holes; presently the crier began. 'Seven, seven, seven—eight, eight, eight cents a pound, going, going,' and smash went the little mallet; 'how many do you take, sir? twenty, or the hundred boxes?' said he. 'Take the hundred,' said a man, that looked like he wasn't worth the powder that would blow him up."
"Could you always tell who bid?"
"No; they mostly did it by winkin, I believe; sometimes one fellow would grunt this side and another that side; I kept my head bobbin after them first one side and then the other; but whenever I looked in their faces their eyes looked as sleepy as a dog in fly-time, just waitin to snap a fellow that was buzzin about his ears."
"Did you find out at last who were the bidders?"