Sale Day

New Zealand Listener, Volume 11, Issue 281, 10 November 1944, Page 11

Sale Day

(Written for "The Listener’ by

B.

HARPER

and bellowing in the yards, or the auctioneers, yelling and gesticulating beside them, which make Sale Day; but the hilarity; the salutations and the hand clasps, the beaming faces; the fluttering mass of humanity resembling a flock _of chirping birds suddenly let loose from an aViary. It is a social adventure for mien and women who, during the intérvening weeks, are tied to their farms by economics and domestic chains which it takes careful forethought to release. It may seem absurd to those wha live and work in a town taking luncheons, teas, cinemas, and "after work’ meetings in their daily stride that such: little things should excite us, but they do. It is partly of course the anticipation -the hurry and scurry to get away, the scrambling ahd squeezing into the cars and trucks, the companionship, the chatter and the laughter. Then the "curfew" strikes five, and each chime sounds a note of anxiety for someone-the cows, the h , the sheep, the hens, the children. For they. all have to be fed and atténded to, even on Sale Day. So there is a scamper in the shops,’ and a hurried renewal of friendships amidst the scampering, until the bewildered assistants hardly know what they are selling’ and to whom. Then the half-hour strikes, abruptly and rather mournfully, as much as to say, "Well, I reminded you all before." Cars and trucks puff and purr, screech and squeal as they start on their homeward journey. The shopkeepers close their doors, draw the blinds, extinguish the lights, and the little town is left desolate, except for two solitary cars. From one, a wife toots a horn impatiently. In the other, a harassed-faced woman waits in silence gazing forlornly through the window. eeu not the sheep and cattle, bleating