"I'll do it, while you girls keep on poking about as if to find other things," declared Mrs. Fabian. "Here, Polly, let us fix this frame up exactly as it was before, and I'll take four out of the pile and place them, one on top of the other, upon this dresser, and then call the man out to quote me a price on the lot." This was carefully done, dust being shaken out of the old curtain so that the glass was again coated, and then dust was shaken over the back where the board had been removed and cleaned. A dreadful lithograph showing a string of fish, framed in a wide gilt affair, was one that was chosen for the group. An oval frame with a woman's photograph in it, was another selected. Then the four were arranged: The large engraving at the bottom, the fish next, then the little old relic, and on top, the oval frame. All four appeared dirty and insignificant as they lay on the top of the dresser; and to finish the work, Polly used the chenille rag to gather up as much dust as possible from the filthy floor, and shook it vigorously over all the frames. Such a choking and coughing as ensued made them separate in haste, for fear the noise would make the auctioneer come out to enquire. But he was too deeply concerned with some pleasant dream to awake to business, before his usual time for the afternoon siesta had ended, so Mrs. Fabian went out to rouse him. "Eh, what did you say?" exclaimed he, jumping up. "I want you to tell me how much are a few picture-frames which we found in a corner." "Oh, anything you like. How much do you think they are wuth?" was his reply. Mrs. Fabian smiled pleasantly. "That is not what I said. You are the salesman and I the buyer. You should state a price." "Um--ah!" yawned Mr. Van Styne at this, and stretched his arms out over his head. "I s'pose that ends my nap, eh?" He shuffled out of the office after Mrs. Fabian and went into the store-house. When he saw the girls poking about amongst the old chairs, bureaus, and motley collection of furniture, he laughed, and said: "That's right! Find all the old bargains you can. I'm your man to sell them cheap to you." Had he but known what he was about to do! Mrs. Fabian led him down to the corner where the pile of four pictures were waiting on the dresser, and said: "These are the four I want a price on. The frames are all in good order and the glasses are not cracked at all." Mr. Van Styne took a pair of old steel-rimmed specs from the vest-pocket over his heart, and pushed them upon his thin nose. He picked up the top oval frame, blew off the dust and laughed at the homely face that stared out at him. He turned to Mrs. Fabian with a twinkle in his eyes and said, jokingly: "Now, if that gal was your relation and you wanted her ugly photograph that bad, I'd say the hull thing was wuth a dollar to you. But seein' it's fifty year old, and you ain't near that, yet, I will sell her fer a quarter. The glass is wuth that, I reckon."