I used to go to a little restaurant on the south coast near Worthing and all the tables were singer tables still with the treddle but no sewing machine. I had somewonderful meals in there and I can't remeber it's name. Old age.
Years ago - in another life - I was checking out a building with a view to converting it into an IT centre for a major brewery company. They were using it as a store-house for what they referred to as 'junk'.
It was stuffed with old pub furniture, amongst which were dozens and dozens of old cast-iron 'Britannia' bar tables with Mahogany tops. They were coated with rust and the tops were in various stages of decay, and when I mentioned them someone said, 'Oh, don't worry, we'll get all those dumped.'
I wish I could get my hands on them now.
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