e a business of selling orchids by auction,
flowers which at this time were beginning to be very fashionable among
rich horticulturists. This, thought I, would be the place for me to
show my treasure. Doubtless Messrs. May and Primrose--that was their
world-famed style--would be able to put me in touch with opulent
orchidists who would not mind venturing a couple of thousands on the
chance of receiving a share in a flower that, according to Brother John,
should be worth untold gold. At any rate, I would try.

So on a certain Friday, about half-past twelve, I sought out the place
of business of Messrs. May and Primrose, bearing with me the golden
Cypripedium, which was now enclosed in a flat tin case.

As it happened I chose an unlucky day and hour, for on arriving at the
office and asking for Mr. May, I was informed that he was away in the
country valuing.

"Then I would like to see Mr. Primrose," I said.

"Mr. Primrose is round at the Rooms selling," replied the clerk, who
appeared to be very busy.

"Where are the Rooms?" I asked.

"Out of the door, turn to the left, turn to the left again and under the
clock," said the clerk, and closed the shutter.

So disgusted was I with his rudeness that I nearly gave up the
enterprise. Thinking better of it, however, I followed the directions
given, and in a minute or two found myself in a narrow passage that led
to a large room. To one who had never seen anything of the sort before,
this room offered a curious sight. The first thing I observed was a
notice on the wall to the effect that customers were not allowed to
smoke pipes. I thought to myself that orchids must be curious flowers
if they could distinguish between the smoke of a cigar and a pipe, and
stepped into the room. To my left was a long table covered with pots of
the most beautiful flowers that I had ever seen; all of them orchids.
Along the wall and opposite were other tables closely packed with
withered roots which I concluded were also those of orchids. To my
inexperienced eye the whole lot did not look worth five shillings, for
they seemed to be dead.

At the head of the room stood the rostrum, where sat a gentleman with an
extremely charming face. He was engaged in selling by auction so rapidly
that the clerk at his side must have had difficulty in keeping a record
of the lots and their purchasers. In front of him was a horseshoe table,
round which sat buyers. The end of this table was left unoccupied s