AUCT. Now 'ere's a tasteful thing, Gentlemen. Lot. 41. "_Nymph eating Oysters_" ("_Nymph 'ere, Gen'lm'n!_"), by the celebrated Italian artist Vabene, one of the finest works of Art in this room, and they're _all_ exceedingly fine works of Art; but this is a _truly_ work of Art, Gentlemen. What shall we say for her, eh? (_Silence._) Why, Gentlemen, no more appreciation than _that_? Come, don't be afraid of it. Make a beginning. (_Bidding starts._) Forty-five guineas. Forty-six--_pounds_. Forty-six pounds only, this remarkable specimen of modern Italian Art. Forty-six and a 'arf. Only forty-six ten bid for it. Give character to any gentleman's collection, a figure like this would. Forty-seven _pounds_--_guineas_! and a 'arf.... Forty-seven and a 'arf guineas.... For the last time! Bidding with you, Sir. Forty-seven guineas and a 'arf--Gone! Name, Sir, if _you_ please. Oh, money? Very well. Thank you. PROUD PURCHASER (_to Friend, in excuse for his extravagance_). You see, I must have something for that grotto I've got in the grounds. HIS FRIEND. If she was mine, I should put her in the hall, and have a gaslight fitted in the oyster-shell. P. P. (_thoughtfully_). Not a bad idea. But electric light would be more suitable, and easier to fix too. Yes--we'll see. THE OBL. BROKER (_pursuing the_ AM. SPECT.). I 'ope, Sir, you'll remember me, next time you're this way. THE AM. SPECT. (_who has only ransomed himself by taking over an odd lot, consisting of imitation marble fruit, a model, under crystal, of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and three busts of Italian celebrities of whom he has never heard_). I'm afraid I sh'an't have very much chance of forgetting you. _Good_ afternoon! [_Exit hurriedly, dropping the fruit, as Scene closes._ At the Guelph Exhibition. IN THE CENTRAL HALL. A THRIFTY VISITOR (_on entering_). Catalogue? No. What's the use of a Catalogue? Miserable thing, the size of a tract, that tells you nothing you don't know! HIS WIFE (_indicating a pile of Catalogues on table_). Aren't _these_ big enough for you? THE THR. V. Those? Why they're big enough for the _London Directory_! Think I'm going to drag a thing like that about the place? You don't really want a Catalogue--it's all your fancy! MR. PRATTLER (_to_ MISS AMMERSON). Oh, _do_ stop and look at these _sweet_ goldfish! Pets! Don't you _love_ them? _Aren't_ they tame? MISS AMMERSON. Wouldn't do to have them _wild_--might jump out and _bite_ people, you know! MR. P. It's _too_ horrid of you to make fun of my poor little enthusiasms! But really,--couldn't we get something and feed them?--_Do_ let's! MISS A. I dare say you could get ham-sandwiches in the Restaurant--or chocolates. MR. P. How unkind you are to me! But I don't care. (_Wilfully._) I shall come here all by myself, and bring biscuits. Great big ones! Are you determined to take me into that big room with all the Portraits? Well you must tell me who they all are, then, and which are the Guelphiest ones.