BARGAINS FOR ALL.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 282, 28 November 1929, Page 26

BARGAINS FOR ALL.

LOST LUGGAGE SALE. FORGETFUL PASSENGERS. ARTICLES OF EVERY KIND. Just how many of the hundred or so people who packed J. R. Robertson's auction mart at the sale yesterday of "luggage left in trams," recognised offerings as having once been their own property, it is impossible to say; but from the half-whispered remarks that could occasionally be heard (in the rare moments of silence) from different points in the room, it was obvious that several persons had noticed articles which they had, at one time, possessed, perhaps even cherished. "There it is!" or "That's it!" was breathed secretly from one -to another, and one woman even went so far as to claim publicly a coat which was put up. "That's mine!" she announced. "I left it in a tram." But her eagerness to regain it could not be satisfied. "Sorry. Too late now. It's up for auction, but you may bid for it," was the only consolation she received.

Such was the variety of articles offered that the collection might have stocked a shop. Jewellery, umbrellas and walking sticks by the score, bags, cases, bundles, caps, gloves and coats —an accumulation to meet the demands of the most cosmopolitan purchasers. And the purchasers themselves! There were young wives obviously bent on securing bargains; dealers who would later hand on whatever they bought at a profit; Inen who had been drawn merely through curiosity; and mothers seeking provisions for families which had reached almost unmanageable proportions —a mustering of types as strange and assorted as the collection of articles they were buying. Some there were who supported the walls; others who stood alert in the centre of the throng, allowing nothing to pass their watchful eyes; a few who wandered roui*d the fringe of

the crowd, leisurely inspecting the purchases of others and frequently grinning at the singularity of articles clutched in firm hands; and here and there, young mothers who, when they were not bidding, did their best to satisfy the insistent demands of whimpering and struggling infants. A Humorous Gathering. Under the surface the atmosphere would probably be one that would call for pity, but outside the cloak of happiness in which all wrapped their troubles, was humour far more real than could be found by probing into prepared comedy. The wit of the .officials, for whom anyone in the crowd was a foil, kept buyers and interested watchers alike liberally entertained.

It was a sale that would have delighted Sir Harry Lauder. Walking sticks were selling two and three shillings for a bundle of six. There were sticks of the most eccentric designs—shapes which even he could not have conceived —and they were ridiculously cheap. Bundles of gloves were thrown out at three shillings, a pair of boys' coats fetched half-a-crown, and a man's coat only a shilling. One "lot" (a basket and two attache cases) was well worth the florin that a woman passed ov6r for it;, none of the three was empty, and for her two shillings the buyer might have picked up anything worth a few pounds, or a collection of rubbish for which she would not get a sou. "Not the price of one." said the auctioneer, Mr. J. Baker, when 3/6 was the best offer he could get for three fountain pens. Whether the nibs were of cheap metal or of fourteen carat gold, the purchaser had made a bargain. "I can see through this," was a remark that brought a good laugh after two pairs of gold-rimmed spectacles had brought four shillings.

Umbrellas Useless Without Rain. "There's rain overhead," said one of Mr. Baker's assistants encouragingly, when half a dozen umbrellas were brought forward. His information was answered with: "Go on. It ain't gonna rain no too'," from the middle of the throng. Iv, there was an atom of truth in the superstition that it is unlucky to open an umbrella indoors, Mr. Baker and his assistants were prepared to defy it. "Put it down, George. I can't see the bidder," pleaded the auctioneer, when "George" paraded on the platform, displaying a faded overcoat, a lady's hat, and a sunshade.

Half a dozen boys' caps, which were sold for a song, went to a willing buyer. "I've got enough sons to wear them all, but I'd have to send each one to a different school," lamented one woman. She would not bid for them, and they went to a man who told Mr. Baker that he had "nephews living in all parts of the city."

"Are they wedding rings? There's a gent here wants to know," inquired an "agent" when a tray of jewellery, with gems the size of walnuts, was offered. "There are two wedding rings among them," informed Mr. Baker. "Perhaps he can use them both." The lot, including the two rings, and brooches with the overgrown "diamonds" and "rubies," were bought for ten shillings. And so it went on, from midday to 5 o'clock, until over 2000 unclaimed articles, from which the Transport Board will reap about £100, had been sold.