The borough had the idea making, {ete of it says H. in the "Mancheste: Guardian." To yield up your alumni hnium, your shoe-trees, your pols, your soapboxes was one things to Fee them in honourable display before was another. 'They' tinguished for the first humble existence, foehn y'stand on their there were immense paix biz enough to hold a ham and thick in proportion which were. the admiration of a growing. crowd. bbeeume a festival to walla up with your offering, sq much so that You wished you hod brought. more, Of course, there was a problem, If you really gave Lord Beaverbrook. you cocking-pots what would you do with the rations that Lord Woolton pet mitted you to have? But aluminium bbeccmes junk as well as iron or tin ets, and there was much unlit for cookery and good for aeroplane The crowd stood by and common ed, It gave advice; it told 'a hand some young woman who. looked hhandsoiner in the middle of the Junk that it knew where aluminium was to be found. It gave the address of aluminium. it betrayed "hoarders of aluminium, those who had teo much, The pile of pots, coffee-makers, shoe: trees, milk-caps, and Kettles grew and grew. The crowd showed itself knowledgeable: it commented prices then and now; it admired the ugo ham saucepan, which continued not to be outdistanced by any rival, It said it wished it had not thrown its aluminium away, A There was a friendly atmosphere, all in aluminium. "The faces of the crowd gleamed as softly as the pre= cious metal, and now and again a face looked wistful as a" handsome Kettle joined the pile or a pot that could be used again. The pile rose up the Town Hall steps. It ree in a morning. By even frown immense, Bringunit out your pots had something of the heroic about It, nearly a8 Kood us presenting your wedding-ring or your nair or any of the things one gives to stop tyranny.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.