No sooner said than
done; and our quondam storekeeper a few days afterward attended an
extensive sale of real estate, at the Merchants' Exchange.
There was the auctioneer, with his beautiful and inviting lithographic
maps--all the lots as smooth and square and enticingly laid out as
possible--and there were the speculators--and there, in the midst of
them, stood Monsieur Poopoo.
"Here they are, gentlemen," said he of the hammer, "the most valuable
lots ever offered for sale. Give me a bid for them!"
"One hundred each," said a bystander.
"One hundred!" said the auctioneer, "scarcely enough to pay for the
maps. One hundred--going--and fifty--gone! Mr. H., they are yours. A
noble purchase. You'll sell those same lots in less than a fortnight
for fifty thousand dollars profit!"
Monsieur Poopoo pricked up his ears at this, and was lost in
astonishment. This was a much easier way certainly of accumulating
riches than selling toys in Chatham Street, and he determined to buy
and mend his fortune without delay.
The auctioneer proceeded in his sale. Other parcels were offered and
disposed of, and all the purchasers were promised immense advantages
for their enterprise.
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