LARES AND PENATES.

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 151, 29 June 1927, Page 11

LARES AND PENATES.

. goODS UNDER THE HAMMER. QUEER AUCTION ROOM SCENE. CHATTELS AXD SENTIMENT. It was almost like looking into a jnan's private diary. Surely he never could have thought all those intimate , jtt )e details would he spread out and to the vulgar gaze. Advertise:! a- "luggage, poods and chattels" thorp were whole chapters of domestic history in the weird collection o f belongings auctioned this morning by jj ri George. Walker on behalf of the £ e ff Zealand Express Company in Porter's old building in Queen Street. After ue warning in the Press, over one hundred cases of unclaimed good? were put up to public auction for unpaid storage charges. It took several men several davs to sort out the heterogenous collection, and the queer things the public gaw this morning were the pick—the residue had been consigned to the flames. "What on earth did the man collect all these things for, and why in the name of goodness did he treasure them'" must have been the question mO re than one bidder asked himself as he strolled round the piled shelves and tables. But the strange thing about human nature is that probably the person asking himself the question has an equally strange lot of household goods stowed away in drawers and oddcorners. Host of us have a rooted objection to throwing away things that have been in our possession for years. Decrepit China. One collection at this strange auction typified the sort of junk that is collected during the lifetime of that odd person, "the man in the street." He is ■ strangely sentimental sort of individual, and even clings to a broken liqueur glass minus a foot. An old piece of willow pattern china has been carefully treasured up, though it is in ieveral pieces, and one end is reinforced \rith a brown paper backing to keep it together. A clock that has not gone since 1800 and evi so few. Odds and ends of a semi-chemical nature sugi gested a professional person, and as a matter of fact the owner was a chemist. Bundles of bedding, clothing, a bath, « clock face, all manner of household furniture in various stages of repair and decrepitude, piles of music, a knifedeaner, a mangle, fenders of several shapes, sewing machines, a milk pump, and so on—it was the queerest jumble that was ever collected under one roof. Perhaps the oddest lot was "five eases of peat." How it found its way to Auckland the missing owner alone knows. Perhaps he was a sentimentalist, and wanted to remind himself in his adopted home of the "reek of the peat" which he knew since he was a boy in Ireland or Scotland—more likely the former. A hideous picture of Aunt Maria or some other relative draws the smile, and one felt sorry that her admiring family had not consigned her counterfeit to the flames before storing the family treasures. No doubt nine out of ten of the pt«ople who smiled at her grim features also have their "Aunt Marias" at home. - Jus£.Like Your Own. •"-'■-• Yes, most people would recognise the counterpart of some of their own possessions in the strange,assortment that passed under Mr. Walker's hammer this morning, and it is only when you see them under another ownership that you realise what an incurable sentimentalist man has grown since he bega.n to live under a roof instead of in a cave. Watching the strange scene this morning one was reminded of a characteristic passage in that rather charming book, "Walden, or Life in the Woods," by that rather odd crosspatch, Thoreau. You may remember how he gibes at people for being the slaves of their furniture and other useless household goods, and how he wishes we would imitate a certain tribe of Indians, who every year got new pipkins and things, and made a great bonfire of their old utensils, clothes, and made a sort of religious festival of it with feasting and dancing. Souvenirs. But all the Thoreaux in the world *on't cure man or his better half of this strange weakness for clinging to Aunt-Maria's severe image execrably reproduced, to the liqueur glass minus a foot, to the broken piece of willowpattern earthenware, and even to cases of peat. Memories of the past, sentimental associations of which the ribald fcidder knows nothing, and cares less, novered round each of the million and one' articles that were heaped up on the shelves and tables. One could not help wondering what had happened to the owners. Why had the hundred cases been abandoned ? When the family packed their treasures away, did they ever dream that their most intimate belongings would one day oe exposed to the quizzical gaze of Tom, Dick and Harry? Even with such a slick auctioneer as Mr. Walker, the auction promises to last over several days. He announced "this "morning that he would continue selling to-morrow and Friday, but not on Saturday, and would resume on Monday if necessarv.