Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1891-07-23

sorG OF thing, or else | guess she'd
strike for the begum's shawl, too"
Printed circulars relating the east
ern treasure were tackled up on all
the corner stores and upon the trees
in front ofthe school houses, churches
and toll gates. and when at last the
all important day arrived, there was
a crowd almost equal to that which
was wont to assemble on the occa-
sion OF camp meetings and circuses.
Squire Samuel Gripps had author
lied Bella Smith to bid on his behalf.
Mr. Ostrom, unwilling to be identi-
fed by his wife. engaged little Miss
Peck, the dressmaker, to represent
his interests.
Other householders, maidens and
matrons, were there assembled, each
and all determined to possess them
selves of the scented Oriental treas
ure, which they then beheld for the
first time.
A visible thrill passed through the
throng as Jethro DumbIeby, the vii
lage auctioneer, held up the richly
hued fabric.
"Come, genelmen an ladies'" bawl-
ed Jethro, ':here's shawl worn by
the lady of the president O. them
eastern kentries an worth it's weight
in gold! Here's the Begun Radjee's
shawl! Look at it-feel it. Come,
genelmen an ladies, who'll start the
begum's shawl as it orter be start
ed"
"Fifty dollars!'' bawled DR.. Drum
mond, who was supposed to have
made fortune in natural gas in
Pennsylvania.
'Sixty!" hoarsely shouted Mr..
Nudge, the dry goods man.
"Seventy!' piped Miss Peck.
"Eighty!' yelled Bella Smith.
From this the bidding ran up, after
a most spirited fashion, to two
three-four hundred dollars. There
it stood for awhile, until DR.. Drum
mond, with'a desperate effort, raised
it to five hundred.
Mr.. Nudge whispered with his wife,
and nodded to the auctioneer to make
it six.
Miss Peck withdrew, in obedience to
dispirited signal from Mr.. Ostrom.
"Seven hundred" said the squire in
bold defiance of Mrs. Gripps' mega
tive shakes of the head.
Seven hundred and fifty" said Mr..
Jenkins of Jenkins Hall.
"One-thou-sand'' bawled Nico-
demus Slote, q recently prosperous
resident, who had built rubber fac
tory in the ravine under the hill.
A dead silence fell on all the crowd.
With one accord they stared at Mr..
Slote, who stood there sleek, smooth
shaver and smiling, his hat on the
back of his head, his hands thrustin-
to his pockets-Midas in a Nineteenth
century costume.
"One thousand dollars is bid for
this priceless treasured" said Jethro
Dumbleby. "Who'll give me more!
It's given away at one thousand dol
lars, actually given away. Pm
waitin to hear some one say eleven
hundred?"
Butno one uttered the magic words.
The begun s shawl was knocked down
to Nicodemus Slote at $1,000. Its
rich dyes and sandal wood scented
folds were extinguished in a quaint
eastern box, fastened together by
odd ivory rings, and carried off by
Mr.. Slote in a ponderous close car
riage, drawn by two shining horses.
II declare, it is too bad" said
Squire GriDps.
Mr.. Ostrom sighed and turned
away.
"A thousand dollars is a thousand
dollars,' said he, ''but would have
admired to see Lucy wearin' of that
SHAWL
Mrs. Slote appeared in church the
next Sunday wrapped in the historic
garment. Her strut was that of an
overfed turkey hen: her aquiline nose
seemed to pillow the air like the bow
of some aerial boat.
Mrs. Ostrom had on her faded black
beaver jacket, worn shiny at the
seams. She was rather low spirited
when she returned home.
"Mrs. Slote did look lovely in that
shawl said she.
"Humph!" remarked Mr.. Ostrom,
ri can't fancy Lovisy Slote lookin'
lovely in anything"
"Would you like a shawl, Lucy?"
asked Capt. Ezekiel, looking with a
kindly regard at his niece.
Mrs Ostrom admitted that she
would. .
The captain went upstairs to his
trunk, and brought down a fiat par
eel.
"Well,' said he, "here's the ginoo-
inc begum's shawl for you, Lucy.
T'other shawl was one got of a
dealer in the Punjee valley-no great
account, anyway, although | allow
it was cheap at a thousand dollars.
This 'ere's wuth five if it's with q
cent, and it's the real begun shawl,
Lucy, my gal. And it's yourn!''
Mr.. Ostrom put on his spectacles
to stare at it. Mrs. Ostrom burst
into tears.
"Why," cried she, "it's beautiful /!
Az, C1o+os, ao,,f hold a 40 pd1a tn itto