"Has anyone here any choice as to what he wants me to offer next?"
questioned the salesman of the afternoon.

There was no response.

"Come, come, gentlemen!" rebuked the auctioneer. "Don't let the
July sun bake your intellects, or the first cool day that comes
along will find you all filled with unavailing regrets. Hasn't
some one a choice as to what should be offered next?"

Still receiving no reply, he heaved a sigh, then added:

"I see that we shall have to start action in some way. Therefore
we'll bring out something that is action personified, with grace
mingled. Bring out the ponies. Gentlemen, I am now going to
offer you your choice of eight of the handsomest ponies you ever-----"

"But there are forty ponies and thirty-two good wagon horses,"
piped up a business man in the audience.

"There were," corrected the auctioneer, mournfully. "But most
of the live stock was rented. Colonel Grundy had hoped to buy
the stock gradually out of the receipts of the show. All that
he owned in the way of live stock consisted of eight ponies.
And here they come! Beauties, aren't they?"

Despite the heat of the day it was as though a frost had settled
down over the scene. Many of the men present were butchers, grocers
or others who had hoped to pick up cheap horses to be used in
their business.