ties,--unreserved sale,--regardless of
cost; and all that sort of thing."

"Lord bless you!" said Mr. Burrows. "Do you think he doesn't
understand how to do all that better than you can tell him? You'll
draw out the headings of the posters; won't you, Mr. Robinson?"

"And put the numbers and figures into the catalogue," suggested Mr.
Sloman. "The best way is to put 'em down at about cost price. We find
we can generally do 'em at that, if we can only get the people to
come sharp enough." And then, as the evening had fallen upon them,
at their labours, they adjourned to the "Four Swans" opposite, and
Robinson was treated to his supper at the expense of his victims.

On the next day the house was closed. This was done in order that the
goods might be catalogued and prepared for the final sale. The shop
would then be again opened for a week, and, after that, there would
be an end of Brown, Jones, and Robinson. In spite of the good-humour
which was shown by those from whom ill-humour on such an occasion
might have been expected, there was a melancholy about this which was
inexpressible. It has been said that there is nothing so exciting in
trade as a grand final sacrificial sale. But it is like the last act
of a tragedy. It is very good while it lasts, but what is to come
after it? Robinson, as he descended into the darkened shop, and
walked about amidst the lumber that was being dragged forth from
the shelves and drawers, felt that he was like Marius on the ruins
of Carthage. Here had been the scene of his glory! And then he
remembered with what ecstasy he had walked down the shop, when
the crowd without were anxiously inquiring the fate of Johnson of
Manchester. That had been a great triumph! But to what had such
triumphs led him?

The men and women had gone away to their breakfast, and he was
standing there alone, leaning against one of the counters; he heard a
slight noise behind him, and, turning round, saw Mr. Brown, who had
crept down from his own room without assistance. It was the first
time since his illness that he had left the floor on which he lived,
and it had been intended that he should never go into the shop again.
"Oh, Mr. Brown, is this prudent?" said he, going up to him that he
might give him the assistance of his arm.

"I wished to see it all once more, George."

"There it is, then. There isn't much to see."

"But a deal to feel; isn't there, George?--a deal to feel! It did
look very pretty that