In the very next
breath, however, he answered his own question, and declared it was
because they had been living all cooped up alone so long--so it was; and
that it was high time it was stopped, and that he had come to do it!
Whereupon the old man and the old woman smiled bravely and told each
other what a good, good son they had, to be sure!
Friday dawned clear, and not too warm--an ideal auction-day. Long before
nine o'clock the yard was full of teams and the house of people. Among
them all, however, there was no sign of the bent old man and the erect
little old woman, the owners of the property to be sold. John and Mrs.
John were not a little disturbed--they had lost their father and mother.
Nine o'clock came, and with it began the strident call of the
auctioneer. Men laughed and joked over their bids, and women looked on
and gossiped, adding a bid of their own now and then. Everywhere was the
son of the house, and things went through with a rush. Upstairs, in the
darkest corner of the attic--which had been cleared of goods--sat, hand
in hand on an old packing-box, a little old man and a little old woman
who winced and shrank together every time the "Going, going, gone!"
floated up to them from the yard below.
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