SALE-going should be fun, a half-day out, half the chance of a bargain at least that's my attitude. Scarborough the pleasantly faded "Queen of the North" is attractive even on a bitter winter's day.

David Duggleby has established his firm as the premier Scarborough saleroom and I was in town to see the 600 lots he had on offer, 600 lots that were to realise a total of £170,000. That's about £300 a lot, which is good considering that the sizes of the lots were reasonably small.

The catalogue cover displayed a Runswick Bay scene, an 1894 oil by James Watson. The loosely-worked painting showed a nice angle on the village's cascade of cottages with their backdrop of steep cliffs and blue sea. That would have been enough to take it past the conservative estimate of £700-£1,000.

However, generally pictures with people make higher prices, and this one was blessed with a pair of dour and ancient fishermen, glued like fixtures to a bench. The bench is sited on what is the Cockpit at Runswick, which, if the work is historically accurate, was in those days a picturesque plinth of rock overlooking an unmetalled road. The scene was probably unromanticised, the fishermen were undoubtedly genuine, indeed the whole canvas had the same splattering of nicotine, pub-thick.

I only mention the veracity of the figures because I recently heard two dealers bemoaning the current scam of adding personal interest to otherwise people-less landscapes, a pathetic but probably profitable practice. So beware fake chocolate-box girls or repro-rustics on mid- to low-range Victorian and Edwardian works.

The painting made £2,700, and a similar one by the same artist made the same, despite also needing of a good wash. The buyer for both was local.

Top price was for a handsome mahogany chest on chest which fetched £3,550 against an estimate of £800-£1,200 (it did need repair). An Art Deco diamond and platinum ring enticed a bid of £2,700 and longcase clocks ran to a couple of thousand each.

Still on clocks, a very pretty and asymmetric wall clock in black papier-mache and mother of pearl made £240.

Mantle clocks were in abundance. Most were of the very ornate gilt type and these seem out of fashion, and did not sell well, if at all, nor did a barking mad version featuring a snarling alsatian.

However, one by Robert Thompson ran to over £1,000, a crazy price for a little mouse and a Smiths movement. More sensibly, a most beautiful Liberty & Co pewter mantel timepiece with the copper dial enamelled in green and blue ticked up to £1,200, twice expectations.

The precursor of the laptop, a Victorian travelling lap desk by Asprey managed £180. "Erotica - 4.5 inches long ... probably a tooth" was expected to reach £50-£100, but rose to £500, which, said Jane Duggleby, was "a lot per inch".

From probably the same era but definitely more decorous, and the precursor perhaps of the text message, were the card cases; for the cards you would give to the servant when visiting. One of tortoise shell fetched £130, of mother of pearl £140, and of silver £160.

The saleroom is in Vine Street and appropriately there is a tasty Italian restaurant at its end, and over the road an Italian caf and deli. I can vouch for both.