As it was impossible to hand round the North Pole for the purposes of examination, a large map of the Arctic regions had been hung behind the auctioneer’s desk. Seventeen degrees above the Arctic Circle a broad red line around the eighty-fourth parallel marked off the portion of the globe which the North Polar Practical Association had brought to the hammer. According to the map, the region was occupied by a sea covered with an ice-cap of considerable thickness. But that was the affair of the purchasers. At least, no one could complain that they had been deceived as to the nature of the goods. As twelve o’clock struck, the auctioneer, Andrew R. Gilmour, entered by a little door behind his desk. He surveyed the assembly for an instant through his glasses, and then, calling for silence by a tap from his hammer, he addressed the crowd as follows:— “Gentlemen, I have been instructed by the Federal Government to offer for sale a property situated at the North Pole, bounded by the eighty-fourth parallel of latitude, and consisting of certain continents and seas, either solid or liquid—but which I am not quite sure. Kindly cast your eyes on this map. It has been compiled according to the latest information. You will see that the area is approximately four hundred and seven thousand square miles. To facilitate the sale it has been decided that the biddings for this extensive region shall be made per square mile. You will therefore understand that every cent bid will represent in round numbers 407,000 cents, and every dollar 407,000 dollars. I must ask you to be silent, gentlemen, if you please.” The appeal was not superfluous, for the impatience of the public was producing a gradually-increasing tumult that would drown the voices of the bidders. When tolerable quietness had been established thanks to the intervention of Flint, the auctioneer’s porter, who roared like a siren on a foggy day, Gilmour continued,— “Before we begin the biddings, I think it right to remind you of three things. The property has only one boundary, that of the eighty-fourth degree of north latitude. It has a guaranteed title. And it will remain the property of the purchasers, no matter what geographical or meteorological modifications the future may produce.” Always this curious observation! “Now, gentlemen,” said Gilmour; “what offers?” and, giving his hammer a preliminary shake, he continued in a vibrating nasal tone, “We will start at ten cents the square mile.” Ten cents, the tenth of a dollar, meant 40,700 dollars for the lot. Whether Gilmour had a purchaser at this price or not, the amount was quickly increased by Baldenak. “Twenty cents!” he said. “Thirty cents!” said Jansen for the Dutchmen. “Thirty-five!” said Professor Harald. “Forty!” said the Russian. That meant 162,800 dollars, and yet the bidding had only begun. The Canadians had not even opened their mouths. And William S. Forster seemed absorbed in the _Newfoundland Mercury_.