warning, when he once more paused, and leaning forward, bent a look of pitying incredulity upon the faces before him. "Gentlemen," he asked in an accent of soft reproach, "is this Boston?"
His audience again roared their pleasure, and the auctioneer, leaving his place, stepped forward and personally approached several gentlemen of the group in a conversational tone. "Mr. Wetherall, am I going to have nothing more from you? Mr. White, what do you say? You know this house is worth more than thirty thousand, and whoever buys it will have a dozen people after him to-morrow offering to take his bargain off his hands at an advance. Mr. Merritt, we haven't heard from you at all yet, I believe. You've been enjoying the show for nothing: it isn't your custom to dead-head yourself on these occasions. And you, sir,—I can't call your name, but I know your face; I've seen it in State Street often—can't I get a bid out of you?" The gentleman addressed colored, and shrank further back in the crowd. The auctioneer smiled in perfect good-humor, and turned away for another word with Captain Butler in private.
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