A printer came to the office with a bill for approval, worded as follows:-- "Great Clearance Sale! The entire valuable and miscellaneous unredeemed stock of a pawnbroker will be sold by auction at the Central Mart, on Monday next, by Mr Hammer.

Sale to commence at twelve o'clock precisely.

Catalogues will be ready on Saturday, and may be had on application." Thus I, and one or two of my neighbours on the shelf, read as we peeped through the crack at the printer's proof-sheet.
"`Entire valuable and miscellaneous unredeemed stock!' that's a good bit of writing," observed a pair of silver sugar-tongs near me; "that means you and me and the rest, Ticker.

Who'd have thought of us getting such a grand name!" "Well, it strikes me we, at least I, have been lying here idle long enough," said I; "it's two years since I came here." "Bless you, that's no time," said the tongs.

"I knew a salt-spoon lay once ten years before he was put up--but then, you know, we silver things are worth our money any time." "Yes," said I, "we are." The tongs laughed.