RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CXIII, Issue 33189, 31 March 1973, Page 20

RANDOM REMINDER

FACING THE RED

At this time Of year clubs and organisations are looking ruefully at the state of their finances, and no doubt there will soon be a spate of money-rais-ing efforts to replenish the coffers. Jumble sales come high on the iist of possibilities, and as long as one doesn’t mind seeing a favourite garment, outdated perhaps, and slightly worn, but still cherished, sacrificed for 25 cents, the sales can be regarded as a three-way good turn —to donor, cause and customer. However, there are pitfalls. We cite the story of a lady who was helping to price clothes before such a sale. She found among the donations a very effi-cient-looking corset. She was young. It was a novelty to her. She

shrieked with laughter, holding up the garment for inspection. “Look what someone has given us.” she exclaimed. The vice-president of the club, a statuesque young matron of generous proportions, remarked mildly: “Yes. it is surprising what one finds in one’s own wardrobe.” The impact of her words did not penetrate the young woman’s merriment immediately, and she said one or two more things about the hopefulness of some people in thinking such an intimate article would find a market at the jumble sale, to which the vicepresident insisted that it was, nevertheless, amazing what people would buy. When the implications of the conversation finally were nailed home, the

young woman all but shrivelled to an embarrassed cinder, and she resolved never to comment on any donation received for a jumble sale —a resolution which, she tells us, she has kept. The experience made her sympathise with another woman who arrived late among an industrious group engaged in sorting and pricing goods for a similar function. Some elegant cups and saucers were set out on a tray. They caught her eye and she bounded up to them, picked one up and studied it closely. “These aren’t bad. How much do you want for them?” she said. The hostess snatched it back in alarm. “Those are mine. They’re for our afternoon tea,” she said.