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Chester blacksmith Ed Batchelder about to hitch
Sally to his buggy. Notice siding repairs.
Circa 1910. photo: Chester Historical Society

in Chester selling out the Ned Larkin estate. Included in this auction complaining about the heat, when the old man said, “Corn don’t grow
was a typewriter. Typewriters were one of the items with a ceiling price. good if the wife can’t sleep naked.”
At this sale, there were several bidders interested in the typewriter.
When the bids reached the ceiling price, the interested bidders put Ron Patch has bought and sold antiques since 1968. He specializes in
their names in a hat. A name was drawn, and that person paid the antique weapons, historical documents and artifacts, early photography,
ceiling price. and military items. Patch is a local historian, president of the Chester
Edward charged $50 for a day of auctioneering. His wife Lou got Historical Society, and a weekly columnist for The Vermont Journal and
her auctioneer’s license in 1943. Lou was the first female auctioneer The Shopper newspapers. He resides in Chester, Vermont. He can be
in Vermont. reached at 802-374-0119 or email president@chesterhistory.org.
Bus Mars was another auctioneer in Pawlet,
Vermont. Bus had an almost square dance type
chant: “And a one-dollar bid, and a two-dollar bid,
and a three-dollar bid to you … And a four-dollar The Watkins Place in
bid, and a five-dollar bid, and a six-dollar bid, back Chester, circa 1910
to you.”
I understand the Smithsonian has a recording
of Bus calling an auction.
These country auctions were a lot of fun. Some
came to visit with neighbors, or maybe buy a box
lot for 50 cents. The auctioneer knew most cus-
tomers by their first name.
One day a man named Harvey bought an
antique sword. When it sold, the auctioneer
turned and said, “Having trouble at home,
Harvey?” Everyone chuckled.
Auctioneers had clever gimmicks to induce bids.
A common ploy when trying to sell a potty chair
that no one wanted was to say, “It’ll make a great
planter on the porch.” Or if selling a chamber pot:
“Ladies, this is perfect for serving spaghetti.”
I remember an old farmer up Orwell, Vermont
way. We were upstairs of his barn on a very
hot July day. It was even hotter upstairs. I was

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