foot-warmer. A pair of ancient
bellows was the last article found in the box, but the leather was so dry
and old that pieces fell out when Polly tried to make the bellows work.

"I must go right down and tell that clerk about these wonderful things.
They must have overlooked them when they listed all the other articles in
the house," said Mrs. Fabian.

Eleanor held her back and said: "You'd better not tell him the news in
that excited manner. He'll understand at once, that these things are
desirable, and then we'll have to pay well for them."

"You're right, Nolla!" laughed Nancy, and her mother admitted as much.

"Why couldn't we just take them down to the kitchen and pile them on the
table. No one will know that we want them, and should anyone ask what we
were doing up here and by what right we carried them down from the attic,
we can honestly say that Abner said we could go over the house and see if
there was anything we liked to buy," said Polly, with a collector's
instinct for not paying extortionate prices for what she wanted.

The girls laughed, but each one caught up some object, and having
gathered all safely in their arms, they started down. The kitchen, being
the least desirable room to visit in the farmer's wife's judgment, no one
was there when Mrs. Fabian and the girls returned to it. Their
discoveries were piled on the old drop-leaf table, and they grouped
themselves at the doorways to keep guard over the prizes.

A loud voice was shouting at the open front door, saying: "This are the
terms of the sale: Everything bid on 's got to be paid fer the same day
and removed from the premises in twenty-four hours--all but th'
barn-stock. You'se kin take forty-eight hours fer them. I expecks
everyone to pay cash fer anything they buy, 'cause I got enough trouble
at that last sale at Hubbells' when a lot of you folks bid on stuff an'
then went home an' left it on my hands. Hubbell's son had to give 'em
away at last, and I lost all that commission. So, none of that, at this
vendue!"

Some of the assembled people looked guilty, and the auctioneer rode
rough-shod over their feelings. "Anudder thing: Don't haggle on a cent!
When I call out a decent bid on a thing, raise it a nickel, at least, if
you wants it. This cent business--and at Hubbell's vendue, some of you'se
even bid half a cent at a time--makes me tired! If a thing ain't wuth a
cent more to yeh, then let it go to the other feller what wants it!"

Th