The Waterbury Democrat., 1940-01-25

Ira Hawkins and Charley Man vile went fox-hunting one day. Over in Roxbury, they found post ed lands and Charley backed up, but MT. Hawkins ordered him for ward. After they had crossed the last meadow and entered a pas ture where no signs ordered them off, a seR-important chap yelled at them, "Are those your tracks across that meadow?" MT. Haw- kins stopped, looked back over the fence and said, "I dunno. If they are, you can have 'em." flaw kins and ManviNe went on, in pursuit of foxes.)
 There's more to hunting than the trophies of the chase. Ira Hawkins got bigger lift out of some of the foxes that got away than from many he bagged.
 There's another thing about this kindly gentleman who once ruled South Britain with kindly hand. Hawkins always used to fill ms ice-house, and he never charged a dime for the ice. When anybody in Britain wanted to chill off a case of beer or freeze a mess of ice cream, he was welcome. MT. Hawkins figured that ice was a gift straight from Nature, just like good fox hunting, and he believed that Natures gifts should be free. If we had more men like Ira Hawkins, we'd have fewer labor unions and haywire social uplift- CTS. Organizers and social 1m- provers always passed by this'yil- lage when Ira Hawkins lived here. There was nothing for them to do.
 Dell Chandler keeper of the wa ters, maker of steam, and general ton maintenance man at the trap shop, has been suffering with boils for a few days but the smoke goes up the chimney just the same and the sluice gates are free. It takes more than bOils and zero weather to hold good man down.
 A motor meat market was seen cruising through Britain the other day, and cruising was about all It. did. With the hills full Of deer' and most pork barrels overfioWing, there's no market for store meat that we cannot supply locally. Week end meat markets, travelling ration carts, and chainstore ad- vertisers should save their cash if they are pointing at this village.
 Democratic Town Chairman Gregory Cassidy gave the Buick a shot of Larry Condon's high test motor fuel on Saturday and made a discovery. Ethyl is a lively lady on sub-zero mornings. She packs a wallop like Bridget Barry and has more power than Devon bull.
 When people kept sheep there was less pnuemonia. Mutton tal- low, rubbed into boot leather kept feet dry and the doctors bills down. Woolen underwear, wool mittens, and honest jackets of home grown fabric kept people warm and comfortable. The Brad- ley Hoyt & Company plant wove a special high grade woolen cloth here for several years and encour- aged sheep raising on large scale. Henry M. Post, a local sales genius, made small fortune Sell- ing Weeds Sewing Machines and Vandemarks Shoulder Locking portable Fence. We had hotel, an academy and several stores, not to mention a 40-acre pond maintained by the South Britain Water Power Co. where fish, ing was good and the kids could go skating. Beside the Pomperaug. a red sand stone quarry turned out under -pinning and doorsteps for those who could afford them. George Garfield made saddles and harness for sheep growers who bought locally. and s. L. Futile ran a store where you could buy
 hardware, dry goods, groceries z and shoes to rub mutton tallow on. x. '. Those were the good old days, before people bought Nancy Gold Mine stock and subscribed to Sage's Creamery. Bob Platt now runs the best sheep in town, but he has no local market for wool.
 Rooters waved fans violently dur-