Across the pawnbroker’s counter

Text 1: Monday at the Three Balls, by Agnes Pilbeam

An original diary written in a nineteenth-century voice; a period simulation, not an archival document.

Monday, 3rd March. Busy from the opening of the shutters, as every Monday. Mrs Dowd brought her husband’s Sunday coat again, as she has done every week since Christmas, and I gave her four shillings upon it, as I always do, and she will fetch it out again on Saturday night, as she always does. We neither of us mention it. She speaks of the weather and I write the ticket.

A young woman I did not know brought a wedding ring wrapped in a scrap of newspaper. She would not look at me, but kept her eyes upon the scales as if they were a judge in court. Father allowed her nine shillings. When she had gone I found I could not put the ring away directly, but sat turning it over for some minutes, wondering whose hand it had been made for.

Father says sentiment is no part of the trade, and that a pledge is only a pledge. He is right, I suppose. Yet I cannot help thinking that half the things upon our shelves are worth a great deal more to somebody than the sum written on their tickets.

Text 2: What People Bring In, by Callum Reyes

An original contemporary blog.

I have worked behind the counter of a high-street pawnbroker for six years now, and I can tell you what day of the month it is just by what comes through the door. The week before payday it’s gold chains, games consoles and power tools. The week after, the same people come back to buy them out again. There is one man who has pawned the same drill fourteen times. I say “Morning, Gary” and he says “Same again” and that’s all either of us needs.

The ones I remember are the first-timers. Last month an older lady brought in her late husband’s watch. She had polished it. She talked very fast about how it was only for a few weeks, and she kept her hands flat on the counter so they wouldn’t shake. I valued it at a hundred and twenty pounds and felt like a burglar.

My manager says the trick is to see the item, not the person. I understand why. But the price I write on the ticket is only ever what the thing would fetch. It is never what it is worth.

Both writers describe working in a pawnbroker’s shop.

What are the similarities between the writers’ thoughts and feelings about their work and their customers?

Draw on evidence from both texts to support your answer.