would have greatly excelled, But for want of taste,
voices and ears,--now, here, my jolly companions, every one, is a working
model of a used-up old Cheap Jack, without a tooth in his head, and with
a pain in every bone: so like life that it would be just as good if it
wasn't better, just as bad if it wasn't worse, and just as new if it
wasn't worn out. Bid for the working model of the old Cheap Jack, who
has drunk more gunpowder-tea with the ladies in his time than would blow
the lid off a washerwoman's copper, and carry it as many thousands of
miles higher than the moon as naught nix naught, divided by the national
debt, carry nothing to the poor-rates, three under, and two over. Now,
my hearts of oak and men of straw, what do you say for the lot? Two
shillings, a shilling, tenpence, eightpence, sixpence, fourpence.
Twopence? Who said twopence? The gentleman in the scarecrow's hat? I
am ashamed of the gentleman in the scarecrow's hat. I really am ashamed
of him for his want of public spirit. Now I'll tell you what I'll do
with you. Come! I'll throw you in a working model of a old woman that
was married to the old Cheap Jack so long ago that upon my word and
honour it took place in Noah's Ark, before the Unicorn could get in to
forbid the banns by blowing a tune upon his horn. There now! Come! What
do you say for both? I'll tell you what I'll do with you. I don't bear
you malice for being so backward. Here! If you make me a bid that'll
only reflect a little credit on your town, I'll throw you in a warming-
pan for nothing, and lend you a toasting-fork for life. Now come; what
do you say after that splendid offer? Say two pound, say thirty
shillings, say a pound, say ten shillings, say five, say two and six. You
don't say even two and six? You say two and three? No. You shan't have
the lot for two and three. I'd sooner give it to you, if you was good-
looking enough. Here! Missis! Chuck the old man and woman into the
cart, put the horse to, and drive 'em away and bury 'em!" Such were the
last words of Willum Marigold, my own father, and they were carried out,
by him and by his wife, my own mother, on one and the same day, as I
ought to know, having followed as mourner.

My father had been a lovely one in his time at the Cheap Jack work, as
his dying observations went to prove. But I top him. I don't say it
because it's myself, but because it has been universally acknowledged by
all that has