One need not be a showman, or have any personal need of
a tent, in order to become a bidder. Whoever buys this tent to-day
will be able to realize handsomely on his investment by selling
this big-top tent in turn to some showman in need of a tent.
Who will start the bidding at three hundred dollars?"
No one started it. After the auctioneer had talked for five minutes
without getting a "rise" out of any Gridley citizen, he mournfully
declared the tent to be outside of the sale.
"Has anyone here any choice as to what he wants me to offer next?"
questioned the salesman of the afternoon.
There was no response.
"Come, come, gentlemen!" rebuked the auctioneer. "Don't let the
July sun bake your intellects, or the first cool day that comes
along will find you all filled with unavailing regrets. Hasn't
some one a choice as to what should be offered next?"
Still receiving no reply, he heaved a sigh, then added:
"I see that we shall have to start action in some way. Therefore
we'll bring out something that is action personified, with grace
mingled. Bring out the ponies. Gentlemen, I am now going to
offer you your choice of eight of the handsomest ponies you ever-----"
"But there are forty ponies and thirty-two good wagon horses,"
piped up a business man in the audience.
"There were," corrected the auctioneer, mournfully. "But most
of the live stock was rented. Colonel Grundy had hoped to buy
the stock gradually out of the receipts of the show.
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