CHAPTER II.
AUCTIONS.
"Going, going, gone." Next came the excitement of auctions, great occasions, and of vital importance to me, as I was ambitious to furnish the entire house for one hundred dollars.
When the head of a family dies a settlement of the estate seems to make an auction necessary.

I am glad of the custom, it proved of invaluable service to me, and the mortality among old people was quite phenomenal at Gooseville and thereabouts last year.

While I deeply regretted the demise of each and all, still this general taking off was opportune for my needs.
There were seventeen auctions last season, and all but two were attended by me or my representatives.
A country auction is not so exciting as one in the city; still you must be wide-awake and cool, or you will be fleeced.

An experienced friend, acquainted with the auctioneer, piloted me through my first sale, and for ten dollars I bought enough really valuable furniture to fill a large express wagon--as a large desk with drawers, little and big, fascinating pigeon holes, and a secret drawer, for two dollars; queer old table, ten cents; good solid chairs, nine cents each; mahogany center-table, one dollar and sixteen cents; and, best of all, a tall and venerable clock for the landing, only eight dollars! Its "innards" sadly demoralized, but capable of resuscitation, the weights being tin-cans filled with sand and attached by strong twine to the "works." It has to be wound twice daily, and when the hour hand points to six and the other to ten, I guess that it is about quarter past two, and in five minutes I hear the senile timepiece strike eleven! The scene was unique.

The sale had been advertised in post-office and stores as beginning at 10 A.M., but at eleven the farmers and their women folks were driving toward the house.