The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-12-06
SOUTH BRITAIN BRIEFS
BY BILL GARRIGUS

A stranger stopped at IllllllB station and inquired for directions to the residence of newly-arrived countryman. What's he do?" the gas station man asked. Don't do anything. He's retired. Made his money In shoe-blacking," the stranger replied. -. Then he don't live here, mister. All we got in this town is actors, artists, and writers; and they mostly work at their trade, too"
 The dry goods wagon arrived in the village on Saturday night. rolled up Main street, turned around at the church and drove away. Not so long ago. when the zoning and pcddlar license regulations were taken more seri- cusly. the proprietor of this wheeled fashion emporium ran afoul of the law. The trial caused a big turnout but everything has quieted down. On this trip, even The Lone Ranger seems to have overlooked the coming of outside competition.
 January Connecticut Circle takes note of the rugged individuallsm in the Pomperaug Valley running a story and pictures Of George Holmes, president of the United Americans
 One of the largest apple grow CTS fin Connecticut has expressed intense interest in the Purchase Hill recipe for felt-boot cider. Forced to develop the domestic market due to the failure of ex- ports this year, this orchardist may press a few thousand gallons of extra vigorous cider for the Connecticut trade.
 Tony, The Barber, has viewed the recent patent suits about electric razors with considerable satisfac- ton. If Tony had his way, all the industry would be concentrated in one plant, with an extremely limited production schedule. Tony says that 1t doesn't make sense to regulate agricultural production and encour- age mass manufacture of razors.
 Since the game bird season cl0ced. all the pheasants in the lot behind the barbershop have dust ed off their wings and taken to foraging in lusher fields. Those birds had sense. They knew that nobody would shoot them in the confines of the village.
 Fiddlers aren't as artistic as they used to be. We had a fiddler in this village who always made his own instruments. claiming that store vio- lins never had quite the right tone or endurance. One day when he had finished an especially fine job, he sat in the hammock in the back yard and sawed out Irish Washer woman" with extra zeal. A touSle- haired urchin stood nearby, mouth open, eyes wide, apparently over- come with the melody. The fiddler watched the youngster for awhile, then tucked his violin under his arm and hurried next door to in- terview the child's mother. Do you know, Mrs. Jones' he beamed, i've never had such a compliment in my years of musical effortl All the while I played this beautiful in- strument. that child stood enthrall- ed, utterly wrapped up in the tonal glory" Mrs. Jones stopped churn- ing for a minute, moved the pan of fresh doughnuts Out of reach and grunted, "Shucksl That youngun weren't enthralled; she were just plain scared!".
 Now the evenings are longer, we expect to hear more about that home -trained orchestra that fOr- merly worked out in Bob Platt's kitchen. If we could develop a good local dance band, perhaps our dances in the Community hall would be more profitable. If we should happen to line up one or two real artists, either with the fiddle or the accordion. perhaps we could start a music festival and make Rattlesnake another Music Mountain.
 
 TUITION FEES INCREASED