The Newtown bee., 1902-08-22
JcrOfuLd


,prightlys piece entitled "The Old Home Week." Fred Pierce recited a welcome from South Britain, a poem of his own composition; Currence Hecock recited piece, 1.-The Minuet;" Lillian Dittus of Danbury gave a selection, 'sThe Railroad Accident" 'sAuld Lang Syne" was then sung by all present. Rev MT Williams was called upon for the closing speech, which was very brief. after which the joined in singing, "Blest be the tie that binds" There were large number of people present from out of town and several people from distance. Mrs Clark came all the way from Obeflin, o. The day was filled in with a ball game between the mar ried men and the single men. South Britain has been the first of the towns in this section to celebrate 'Old Home Week." May her sister towns, when they see her success, follow her ex- ample and have an "Old Home Week." MT Pierce's poem was as follows: Ye children of our mother town
 Who here to-day are meeting, Old Mother Britain speak ks through us
 To give you all greeting. With her best bib and tucker on
 This pleasant summer weather, Her blood is beating4rher veins old Mother Britain, there she stands A@ost tWo ofs hundred years Have passed Almost two hundred years have gone Since first she left old southbary's s arms
 T9 start the her own houtsekesepi1ag tsdss gi,,.,+
 As when her fife was new. Save that shes grown some larger now' The children that she used to nurse
 When summer days were sunny
 For fame or love or money.
 But WhereSOever they may roam,
 She ne'er can wholly lose em. Some hidden feeling draws draws them all Not that she's perfect, God forbid!
 Of all meath our inspection
 There's nothing we hate quite so much
 As absolute perfection;
 But hers that hospitable charn
 And just enough of wickedness
 To make you feel at home.
 shsS Mi;h had her fits of eiIeaning house
 Improvement, village order leagues,
 And things beyong recalling;.
 And then she'd swing the legal broom
 And mak great ado
 While we in agony of soul
 f. Sat wishing she was through.
 Just like the godly Quakers.
 And merely seem to sit and dream
 And then again she'd lay aside This mood so cool and proper, Ana get on SuCl 8 SOCIAL craze That nothing seemed to stop her. And underneath the elOQuence
 Of many preachers chiding, And also of backslfding.
 BSf spita of al! her moods And virtues, faults and follies punched, We love her altogether. Our infancy she coddled, Our baby feet have todd!ed, | Here first her daughters dressed their dolls l And wrought in fancy stitches. Here first her sons have shed their skirts | To don the manly brooches, And here in days of childhOOd'S school By turns we've loved and wrangled, | And down these dreary benches long i Our little legs have dangled. And oft the school ma'a called us up
 For drawing goblins On our slate And pictures labeled Teacher" The old trees keep in hiding Of voices heard in other years When friendship grew confiding. l And lots of whispered statements too, Of feelings quite eternal, W hich the recording angel now Keeps locked up in his journal. And he, way up in heaven ajoft Turns OCT it's leaves to cheer him, When, poor old bachelor that he is, 1 He feels the blues draw near him. | We've made the hearth fires crackle,
 And spread the Christmas dinner out l And memories all around us here | Amid the sun and shadows l Come sprOuting of their own accord Like daisies in our meadows. | When we were only little tots And played among the calves. We used to think the universe 1 Divided into halves. We thought Flat Hill was twice as high As Himalaya's ranges. And Pomperaug was full as broad As Amazon or Ganges.
 We SH3o% thought with 5 e6lidhood's simple faith, SOnth Britain the hiup2r hal The rest Of earth the other. We'll, we've grown older some since then And seen our whiskerS bristle. And learned some geographic facts That fairly made us whistle; But still, in roaming round the world Amid it's greed and dangers, We've often found rod of home Worth continents of strangers. Hearts have their own geography For places that they treasure, And memories. not statute miles,
 Are their surveyors measure. And still within our heart of hearts We make our low confessions: This little spot is more for us Than all the Czar's possessions. Though now we know that there are streams Beside whose mighty torrent The Pomperaug, in fullest flow Would seem gutters current. Yet often there is scarce d thought Those rivers bring before us Except streak along the map And names that sound SOnOrouS, But Pomperaug, along it's banks As boys we've gone a-tShing; we Ve dreamed our uay -ufeamS on It's shores For future glory wishing; We've had our picnics at it's side, Its waves have washed our dishes And now and then we've tumbled in And frightened all the fishes
 It keeps our childhood life for us Unchanged amid our changes; It means ten times much for us As IndiaS sacred Ganges.
 So leave the great stern world outside
 Eight thousand leagues it stretches
 To kings and mathematic cranks,
 ID 4. And such unhappy wretches;
 We bid you welcome hither
 To jolly homes and jolly food
 And friendship altogether,
 These awe-inSpiring little hills,
 This great big little river,
 This great big world of half q mile
 And may it live forever!- T.
 And when you pass away from here,
 And all is done and written,
 Bear kindly memories back with you
 Of good old Mother Britain.
 For al! that's best in you yourself
 Her loving care assisted,
 And if she hadn't been on earth
 You might have ne'er existed.