THE EVENING STORY ANTIQUE

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXVIII, Issue 13025, 2 May 1940, Page 3

THE EVENING STORY ANTIQUE

| Zeke knew there were certain tricks to the trade I an d that being too moder n had its disadvantages w 'ULMW'iAirr’ga JU mill i n n a Ji ll " l ."^HhT'Tr'iiii nhUJS«"'' -zmiT . —'mmmrn amitMiiiiiirt- 1 i"w Ski Mum

By Joan Markum

one by one the two turned away, either from lack of appreciation or from disapproval of the price asked. In an hour Zeke’s patience, never of the best, was at the dangerous point where it. might boil over. “I’ve showed you everything here, just about!” he said with restrained disgust. “I reckon you don’t want any of it. ’

Zeke was busy in the shaded gloom of the old farmhouse parlour when, the party line bell tinkled loudly. He left off his dusting of the Dresden ware and the Venetian glass in the old William and Mary closet and went to the phone.

“That you, Zeke?” came the cheerful voice over the singing line. “I’m glad I was able to catch you in—thought maybe you’d be out tending to some of your chores.’-’ “Chores were done hours ago,” snapped Zeke, a bit testily. “Besides, I haven’t got too many now that I sold all the livestock and let out most every bit of land except my garden patch on shares. I’m intending to be a good antique dealer, now that I’ve got on to the hang of things.” “That’s fine, uncle,” Timothy approved. “It took me long enough to convince you to sell out your farm and sell that stuff you and Aunt Mary had been collecting for 50-odd years. I never could see why you hated to let that junk go.” “You wouldn’t!” Zeke snorted. “All you can see is that crazy modern stuff you got in your furniture

“You’re mistaken, my dear fellow,” the heavy man said. “I’ve dealt with sly country people like you before. Why don’t you want to sell us that old secretary?” Zeke’s eyes squinted. “I’ll tell you why, and .honestly, too. First place, I couldn’t swear that it was genuine. Second place. right now I wouldn’t take a thousand for it, the way I feel!” , Triumph lighted in the visitor’s eyes. “Now we’re getting somewhere!” he said. “Will you tell us about the piece?” Zeke mumbled something to himself, but moved over to the secretary. “This is all real walnut, with burl walnut, no veneer, on the rolltop case. Ain’t a nail in it, cause it’s all pegged, like Victorian desks. Handmade brass hardware in it and comes in four sections fitted together

store in town. You couldn’t pay me to take a stick of it. Y’ou even fake originals!” “There’s money in it, uncle,” said Timothy. “But what I called about is this. I have a couple here in the store now who are redecorating their place in the city. They want some real antiques and I’m sending them out to you. Take good care of them, will you, uncle, and see that they get what they want?” “You can come right in, folks,” he greeted the pair who descended from th© limousine after the chauf-* feur had opened the door. He stood on the porch and attempted, in the way that Timothy had patiently outlined, to size up his customers and determine what sort of tastes they had.

with pins.” The two looked closely at the aged piece of furniture and finally Zeke had the satisfaction of seeing them depart.

“Your customers were here. . . and went!” he told Timothy as soon as he could get him on the wire. “No, I didn’t sell them a single antique piece, but 1 learned a lot about the business in just one hour,” he reported. Then he chuckled before adding. "By the way, son, if you can put together another desk in a couple of weeks like you did that one you brought here, just send it over . . . I think I could use it!”

"You’re a little off the beaten track,” the heavy man grunted in annoyance, as he opened the little, white picket fence for his companion to enter the yard. . ‘‘l suppose that’s some sort of indication that you haven’t sold all the goqfd things.”

"Maybe you’d 'better tell me what kind of things you’d like to see before we start,” Zeke said with some asperity. He didn’t look forward to any enjoyment in selling out his heritage.

"What we want,” the woman suggested, “is just enough furniture and absolutely reliable antique ware to furnish a small dining room at our country place. The old secretary here, for instance, how much is that worth?”

Zeke looked thoughtful for a moment and shook nis head. “Madam, that’s about the only thing in this room I wouldn’t sell, because'l can’t guarantee it bo he genuine. My young nephew, the dealer who sent you here, left it at my place for safekeeping. Now, this is a real William and Mary china closet which ray grandmother brought out , from Philadelphia . .

The customers looked with interest at the really fine example of cabinet work in the closet, but Zeke felt them wince at the price he mentioned. Eight hundred dollars, he decided, was a staggering sum to the pair. He tactfully called their attention to the beautiful aged table and the four chairs which yet remained to the set. "You won’t often see a grand Chippendale pedestal table like this in practically perfect condition and with four of the original chairs. There’s hardly a mark on it anywhere. My Aunt Sophronia got it from an uncle of her husband’s side. I’d only ask 650 for the whole business.” One by one, Zeke called attention to every one of his treasures, and