MARKET DAY.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 114, 15 May 1936, Page 5

MARKET DAY.

A MOTLEY CROWD. CITY'S PRODUCE POOL. PROFITS UNDER THE HAMMER They have only one thing in common —they all wear the same style of hats. Sorted into groups, they differ considerably, this-' cosmopolitan crowd which gathers daily at the city markets. There are the home-grown products with their white skins and faces; there are sons of China with their not so lilywhite skins, and again there are the even darker-skinned Indians. These are t e men who, third hand, supply the people j with vegetables and fruit, and to a smaller degree flowers, eggs, butter an grain. They may be shopkeepers, hawkers, or barrowmen, but all are working in tomraon and with one objec —to do business that will show a profit. At least on five days of the week busi ness is carried along on top gear. Auctioneers jabber —that seems t e appropriate word —and knock down en less bags of vegetables or whatever 1 happens to be, to men who, to the pn looker, take no part whatever m the proceedings. The Übiquitous Truck. The whole floor space it covered with sacks of vegetables cases of fruit, while the ex e shelves here and there are loaded witn bunches of carrots and turnips, ail spectator, to go from one spot o other, has to do something resemblin,, Scots sword dance to move betwee bags and cases. Men pushing 1 dart hither and thither; they pairy hooter, and rely upon their inces call, "Please." , , The sale is on. Men with hamnieis are ripping the tops off cases an playing the top layer of tomatoes, oranges, or whatever the cases contain,

to the critical and suspicious gaze of shopkeepers, hawkers and barrowmen. The buyer is determined as far as possible to get value for his money, of which he desires to part with little as possible. "Break a couple open, says the auctioneer, and his storeman, with a twist of the wrists, divides an apple or two in halves just to show it is clean all through and free from brown rot. Silent Bidding. Nobody says anything, hut the auctioneer begins to talk about threes, fours, fives and perhaps sixes, then changes to eighths, quarters, halves and finishes up mentioning three-quarters. ■ Apparently somebody has been bidding, but only the auctioneer is aware of it, because nobody but himself speaks. A few minutes later a Chinese or Indian who, at the most, could have moved only an eyelid, picks his way to the office, gets his invoice, and a storeman selects the cases purchased, and away they are taken 011 a m-otor truck. And so it goes on day after day. week after week, year after year. Supines and goods vary according to the seasons, but the crowd at the city markets alters little. New buyers come along, old ones fade out, but to the onlooker they are the same mixed crowd. Market buying is. an industry of its own. The public must he supplied with vegetables and fruit, and the greater portion of it is drawn from the one big pool at the city markets.