THOSE CHRISTMAS SHOPPERS!

Manawatu Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 2674, 20 December 1923, Page 1

THOSE CHRISTMAS SHOPPERS!

BY THE MAN BEHIND THE COUNTER. There is ji little tract in my room which says: “Love thy neighbour.” I always do my best to live up to it, and succeed fairly well during eleven months of the year. But in December, when the Christmas crash is on I confess T am sometimes hard put to it. A lady approaches you just as you were hoping for a five seconds’ respite after three frenzied hours. She regards you with an T-don’t-tliink- much- of-you-but-T -expect you-re-necessar.v glare and then asks you whether you have any toy wheel-barrows. You tell her you have some very nice toy wheelbarrows. You risk your life getting one down for her from a high shelf. She pushes it aside when she hears the price, murmurs something about profiteers and demands beads. \on show her beads. Box after box. Finally she upsets one, exclaims, “Did I do that ?—-well. [ don’t suppose I’m the first!” smiles acidly, and fades away. While von are picking up those beads, you find it exceedingly diffi- < nil to love her. Another type of shopper you do not feel any special desire to die. for is what 1 may Term the jusf-a-nio-ment lady. She stands behind a queue of seven, and suddenly slides forward with the breathless exclamation : “Oh, just a moment. { just wanted to know if you had any photograph frames.” You tell her you have, and will serve her “Could you just tell me what price they are?” You tell her, and add that you will serve, her “Oh thank you. I’ll just take one off the counter. Would you just do it up?” You do it up meekly, while seven pairs of eyes glare at you, and off she sails as serenely as a queen! I don’t know wliat Christmas means to you. To me it means an endless succession of such people—fussy ladies who are always losing their bags, confiding ladies who imagine you will take a personal interest in the doings of all their relatives, worried men who dodge helplessly about wondering what to buy for their aunts, scrambling kids sheepish swains, rush, tumble, and hurry.

One good dame gave me a detailed deecription of her brother-in-law in Canada, even to the colour of his hail 1 , and then asked me if I thought he’d like a pipe. Another, after informing me that her little boy, aged five, had simply everything, asked me to suggest something quite fresh! But, when all is said and done, I cannot get over my affection for Christmas. It may tire one out. All we can do is to grin and bear it.