"NO HAWKERS"

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 88, 15 April 1939, Page 4 (Supplement)

"NO HAWKERS"

By--Marie Mayhew

For Women

I CAN'T help it; I have done it again. Once more I have bought from a hawker at my back door something which 1 shall never use, paying for it about three times as much as it is worth. You are" wrong; I do not lack "salesresistance." I can go to town and resist quite firmly the lure of shop windows dressed with all the skill of an expert in temptation. I can enter a shop and resist, just as firmly, the wiles of the most persuasive salesman who tries to make me spend nineteen and six when I am only prepared to spend sixteen and nine. But turn a hawker loose at my back door and I am helpless. I evidently suffer from some peculiar complex, which only comes over me in that neighbourhood. What is needed is a course of lessons, for persons of any sort, on the art of "hawker-resistance." Perhaps some day a man may come round selling little booklets on'the subject. Shall I be able to resist him ? I mean to say, think how sad it would be if everybody were hawker-resistant. Really I suppose that's my whole trouble —I am so sorry for them. It must be an awful thing to have to trudge from door to door selling things, or failing to sell them, more probably. Everyone of my friends tells me she "never buys from those men," so apparently I am an exception. (Unless, of course, my friends are ashamed to confess to such weakness.) But let us :-}

suppose I am an exception. I picture the poor man returning to his garret, weary and disheartened, and by the light of a candle stuck in a bottle (or do you think "a dismal oil lamp" sounds better? I do; it sounds gloomy. And don't point out that even garrets now have electric light, because this is meant to be a moving little scene, and there is nothing moving about electricity—at least there is, but it doesn't concern us just now.) Where did we leave our man ? By the light of a dismal oil lamp counting up the few pence gathered during the day, while from his battered suitcase there leers up at him the same old stock-in-trade. How horribly "shopsoiled" and familiar the once bright "novelties" are looking! I picture how he • will recall the image of his only customer (myself) and bless me for my kind heart. Or perhaps he has a little motherless child. "Did you sell anyfmg, daddy? May I have a, chocolate fish to-morrow?" And he will promise her the little treat, and teach her to lisp a baby blessing on my head. I may be wrong. Perhaps he will be counting his takings in the bar of an hotel (brilliantly lit by as much electricity as the proprietor cares to pay for) and remarking, with a sullen light Jn his ey'es, "If that woman at eightythree had bought the nutmeg-grater as well I could have had five bob on 'No

Thank You' in the two-thirty." Well, I can't help it; how can one differentiate between sheep and goats ? And if one can, should I have the courage, I wonder? I remember one of my purchases. A most marvellous powder which, with the addition of an egg and some cold water, would make creamy sweets of such a smoothness and delicacy that the family would call my name blessed. It would have had to be a smooth concoction indeed to match the tones of him who sang its praises. Did I know Mrs. Jones? No? What a pity! Because she would have told me how delicious it was; she had ordered a regular supply. And to prove the seller's faith in this delicacy he would let me have a two-shilling packet for one and three. I was not to thank him for this reduction; he knew I should be a regular customer, and what was ninepence between people of vision ? I tried that powder. I wasted an egg and some perfectly splendid cold water on it. Perhaps I am not a good cook. The man never came back. He probably forgot that he had been sure I should be a regular customer. If only he had returned, no doubt he would have explained why the sweet was a failure. I don't think I have ever used any of my other back-door purchases. There was a lampshade, the colour of which tones with nothing in the house, and I hope never will. A face cream which would give me a milk and roses complexion, if I used it. It might, of course. By using that queer-smelling stuff in the pink pot I should have hands like those beloved beside the Shalimar. A

toothbrush with limp, discouraged bristles; let it take heart, however. I must have been inspired when I bought that—it will do for cleaning the typewriter. I must not omit the ointment which, will cure all chest troubles. Curiously enough my family is heartlessly indifferent to the benevolent designs of the maker of this stuff; we are all free from chest troubles, but the ointment is splendid for greasing the lawnmower. Then, too, I have bought tapes, buttons and envelopes, and none can deny their usefulness. And, after all, even if they did cost more than they do in the shops, well, one can't 'have things brought to the very door for nothing. Suppose I needed tape suddenly, and it was raining, or the shops were closed. To be quite honest, I have been firm once. I happened to see a man coming in the gate, bearing in his arms something large and vividly coloured. I think it was half a kerosene tin, painted and ornamented and designed to hold the aspidistra. I reminded myself that we had no aspidistra, had never had an aspidistra, and, with luck, never would have an aspidistra. Then I sat' quite still and waited while he knocked and went away again. I firmly refrained from peeping to see if the poor man looked very disheartened. I might, perhaps, have a "No Hawkers" notice on the side gate, but it seems so crueL Imagine the poor soul stepping blithely up the path, his finger ready on the catch of his suitcase so that it will be open, and the lure of his stock before my eyes before I have time to say "No, thank you." He has heard from members of his fraternity that I am "easy." Then that notice! Like a slap in the face! Besides, suppose he had something to sell which I really needed." Was that a knock ? Excuse me. I had better answer the door. It may be some poor man selling something.