Australian Tales - Setis

“Stone Blind.”
SOME years ago, a fine vessel owned by my friend Simon Guldman,
was stranded, in a gale of wind, within a hundred miles of Sydney. She
was laden with flour and maize, and was uninsured. Though much
strained, the vessel held together; and when the weather had sufficiently
moderated, my friend succeeded, with much labour and expense, in
hauling a considerable portion of the cargo through the surf on to the seabeach,
and eventually in getting the vessel afloat and safely moored in an
adjacent harbour.
Mr. Guldman had camped near to the wreck for several nights and had
undergone no small amount of hardship, as well as annoyance from
volunteer helpers, some of whom were most anxious to spare him the
pain of ever again beholding such mementos of his misfortune as were
not too heavy for them to carry away. He therefore resolved upon
offering the vessel and salvage of cargo for sale, while any salvage
remained; so he employed a respectable auctioneer; and, at the time
appointed, a crowd assembled on the Queen's Wharf, where samples of
the damaged cargo were exhibited, and opposite to which the battered
ship lay moored, with the crew on board singing cheerily, as they worked
at the pumps.
Mr. Guldman soon discovered that the majority of those present were
neither bidders nor buyers, but were perhaps attracted to the spot by the
craving desire, which is almost everywhere manifested by a certain class
of persons, to investigate disasters; generally with a keen eye to
contingent personal advantages.
“Now, gentlemen,” said the auctioneer, “you have heard the terms and
conditions of sale, and you must admit they are very liberal; favour me
with an offer to commence with, at per bushel, for all the maize now
spread on the ship's sails, on Misery Beach. At per bushel, favour me
with a bid, gentlemen. Don't delay now; what shall I say? Start me a bid,
gentlemen, at per bushel.”
“If you please, sir, do you warrant it sound corn?” enquired a lisping
little man in spectacles, whose occasional waggish winks and
whisperings to his neighbours, made my jaded friend doubt if the little
oddity were really as simple as he appeared to be. “I'm very particular
about my pig's diet. Is it sound, sir, do you think?”
“There it is, Mr. Spikes,” replied the auctioneer. “You ought to be able