Polly in New York. Roy Lillian Elizabeth

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СКАЧАТЬ Mrs. Stewart was about to whisper to Anne that they had better go when Eleanor spoke up fearlessly.

      “I saw a four-poster in the show-window before I came in. Is it for sale?”

      Her three companions felt the shock that is experienced when one does an unusual or unexpected thing. But they each felt thrilled, too, at the courage of that one.

      “I regret exceedingly, my dear young lady, that that particular set of antique mahogany cannot be sold until day after to-morrow. In fact, only the contents of this vast room is for sale to-day. We take them in turn, you see. To-morrow the adjoining room goes, and the day following that everything is sold and cleared out of the third room – where the bed is.”

      “But we have a four-poster in this sale, Mr. Winters,” quickly said one of the floor-men.

      “Ah, indeed! Perhaps the young lady will like it as well as the other one. Bring it forward, Joe.”

      Without the slightest delay, the floor-men then pulled and pushed a very elaborately carved four-posted bed out upon the dais. It was similar to the one in the window but it was smaller, this one being four feet wide while the one on exhibition for Friday’s sale was full sized.

      The auctioneer spoke of all the points about this particular piece of furniture, and then began to offer it for sale. The four visitors in the front row sat as if hypnotized at his manner.

      “What, no one here to appreciate this marvelous work of other days, now to be sold for three hundred dollars?”

      Not a sound encouraged him, so he sighed and said: “Well, is there anyone who will give two hundred for it?”

      Eleanor’s heart thumped. She was willing to give it but she found her tongue cleave to the roof of her mouth at the very idea of securing the bed at such a price.

      “Too bad! Then I shall have to ask if anyone will pay me one hundred dollars? Is this bed not worth that to you, young lady – or perhaps you need a full-sized bed?” The auctioneer looked at Eleanor but failed to see the dazzling glint that shot into her eyes when he offered the bed for one hundred. He really had no hope of starting it at that figure so he over-did it that time.

      “All right, friends, I am perfectly willing to have you set your own price on this magnificent piece of carving that is no less than a hundred and fifty years old. Now what is your pleasure? Fifty, forty, thirty – what? did I hear a bargain-hunter say twenty-five? Oh, impossible?”

      Eleanor almost fainted at such a dreadful sacrifice, and would have stood up to offer him the hundred, had not a man in the rear called out “Fifty.”

      “Ah, that is better – thank you. Now, fifty, fifty, fifty – who says seventy-five? I want seventy-five – fifty, fifty, fifty, fif – fif-tee, tee, t-e-e – what, no one here willing to pay more than fifty dollars for this bee-u – utiful bit of antique mahogany? Fif-fif-fif – Ah!”

      Eleanor swallowed hard, half-stood up, and the auctioneer caught her eye at last. He smiled, acknowledged her expression, and now called:

      “Seventy-five! I now have seventy-five, seven, seven, sev-sev-seventy – seventy-fi-ifvvve! I have seventy-five dollars for this wonderful mahogany bed that is really worth seven hundred dollars in any store to-day. And I only have seventy-five dollars bid. Seven-tee – ”

      Again Eleanor half-stood up and this time she managed to say “One hundred, please!”

      “Thank you, young lady – you certainly understand fine furniture. I am now offered one hundred dollars by one who knows the value of this bed – one hundred, one hundred – hundred – one, h-u-ndred dollars offered – who will give a hundred and ten – only ten more gets it?”

      Polly was so amazed when Eleanor said “One hundred dollars” that she giggled hysterically; but not wishing to have her friend brag how “she bid at this auction and her friends were too shy,” Polly looked anxiously at the auctioneer. He saw that look and understood.

      “Don’t hesitate, young lady. You know ‘he who hesitates is lost’ – in this case, loses a great bargain. If you wish to bid, never fear competing with a friend. In this business there are no friends – all men are strangers. Shall I say one hundred and ten for you?”

      Polly nodded eagerly and smiled broadly at Eleanor. The two girls were so delighted with themselves at daring to speak out so bravely in a city like New York that they failed to realize the auctioneer had knocked down the bed to Polly.

      “This young lady in front. I must say she appreciates fine furniture!” declared the suave auctioneer to everyone in general.

      “W-h-y, Pol – le-ee! Is that your bed?” gasped Mrs. Stewart.

      “I’m sure I don’t know. Is it, Nolla?” laughed Polly.

      Just then a brusque voice said: “Name and address please – and twenty-five per cent deposit money.” The girls looked up in bewilderment. Who was the man?

      He seemed to read their thoughts, for he smiled. “I am the cashier. Everyone has to pay down a cash deposit on their bids. Everything you buy has to be removed by Saturday, or we are not responsible for it after that.”

      “Oh!” Polly and Eleanor looked at each other. They were trying to figure out how much money he wanted.

      “Here – I’ll pay the deposit. About thirty dollars, isn’t it?” said Anne, in a business-like tone.

      “Yes, thank you. Now name and address, please?”

      “What’s the number of our stable, Anne?” laughed Eleanor.

      When Anne gave the address the cashier looked surprised. “Oh, have you rented the Studio down the street?”

      The girls bowed wonderingly, and he added: “The artist who lived there for a number of years, used to drop in here every week just for the entertainment of picking up curios. In fact, I saw him here a few minutes ago. He told me he would give fifty percent advance to the tenant who leased that place. Here’s a chance for you to make money if you want to give up the Studio.”

      “We want a home more than money, mister!” declared Polly.

      “You’ve said it, Poll! If we give up this studio we may have to go back and live in our gold mine, because New York hasn’t any homes left, this year,” laughed Eleanor.

      The cashier had not missed the mention of “our gold mine” and determined to do his utmost to please these ladies. Hence he whispered: “I’ll look after everything you buy here, and don’t worry about moving it away on Saturday. Next week will do, if you are not ready to get things out this week.”

      “Polly, Polly! There goes a high-boy that matches the bed you got!” cried Eleanor, at this moment.

      “They are pieces of the same set. Strange to say, they came from the very place you rented. The artist has to sell out because he cannot find an apartment, and there is no storage room for his furniture,” explained the cashier.

      So Polly secured the high-boy for sixty dollars and felt very proud of her purchases. Eleanor bought a pair of brass fire-dogs and irons, and Anne bid on a large etching. When it was knocked down to her, she turned to her mother and said: “I really do not want it. What under the sun did I get it for?”

      And Mrs. Stewart laughed. СКАЧАТЬ