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’WOOMMWMW 06M” 0 N SHEPPARD 8: QM Lumber C0. We have no business bag of tricksâ€"it’s all straight dealing at this yard. There isn’t a shoddy piece of lumber to be found in the place. It all mea- sures up man fashion to what is expected of it. i HERES ONE THINE WU \NILL LEARN REMGQKK- WE NEVER PLAY A Go I- BUSINESS TRKSK A THURSDAY, JULY 30th, 1942 The dependability in the quality of Hall’s Service Station gas and oil explains why so many motorists of Richmond Hill are using this reliable motor fuel and lubrication. OPPOSITE ORANGE HOME “Be Ready With Reddy Power” WATKINS PRODUCTS Specializing in, Fly Spray Dust for Garden Pest Control Richvale P.O. Phone Maple 64r4 RICHMOND HILL ERNIE DURIE Bath folk‘must have rubbed their eyes sometimes in the old days, I’m sure. For instance, when we were to be seen. Baily on a chilly morning, running in a batch through the beautiful little park, training for our forthcoming paperchase â€" with me, not to bc outarone, panting along be- side the six-footers. I expect they thought we were all mad. Then they were forever coming upon us crouch- ed on sketching-stools, our eamest faces smudged with paint or charâ€" coal, perpetuating tnose old monu- ments. We were so untidy, too, I‘ remember. There wasn’t much time1 or chance to be very tidy, what with working twelve hours a day, strugâ€" gling feverishly for scholarships, [ Yet it gives one a queer, unhappy stab this kind of news, quite apart from worry about friends. It all seems too outrageously improbable. I know York; I’ve lived near Exeter, and I spent my growing up years in Bath. Who could have dreamed of such things happening? Bath: prim, demure and comfortable, lying there in that green cup of the hills. It's queer: there is no place I can think of as ‘home’. I was trying to do so the other night, but that place doesn't exist. Perhaps it never will. though I‘m still hoping! But Bath, perhaps, comes a little near it, for I was a student there. We were happy and miserable in turns; we worked and played hard; We beâ€"i ‘gan to form our ideas there; our arguments, our points of view. We made all sorts of pictures in our minds about the future...but never a picture like "Bath today, with its air scars. Nobody ever thought of that. So how pleased I was to learn that Bath, like those other bombed towns, could ‘take it’ and as well as any! A trace of civic pride there,‘ I think, don"t you? Old Days in Bath a sentimental people on the quiet, but we aren‘t insanely sentimental, I hope. And- somehow, in my more fanciful moments, I can almost hear ,them saying â€" Exeter Cathedral, and the Roman Baths and York Min- ster â€" “Look here, peeple, don’t mind us. You go ahead. We never expected to stand for ever, you know. And there will be chunks of us left, no matter what they do.” Written specially for The Liberal By Margaret Butcher Reading, England â€" So the Enemy is taking a new line with us now: Baedeker Bombing. How futile it is! Somebody's psychology has gone wrong over there, I’m thinking. We love our old buildings, but I can’t imagine us calling ‘Halt!’ just in order to retain a certain established arrangement of stones and bricks and timber, can you? We may be Can’t Make British Quit by Bombing Old Buildings-Iron Fences Disappearing The Allotment is awake again, with‘things pushing through the crusty earth. The biting northeast wind has fallen â€"â€" at last â€" and the Gardening Partner, in an aura of furious grumbling, is enjoying I Now, with the coming of spring, [there come the ‘Alerts’. Once again, at bedtime, one puts out the thick coat, the gas-mask, the ready-pack- ed suit-case, near at hand; and those who have shelters have made them all ready. And those shelters are no longer ugly bumps of sand and earth and stones, for flowers are growing on them. People feel that if they must see humps in the gar- den they may as well be decorative. And why not? Sometimes there are noises and vibrations; sometimes the searchlights, swinging round, pierce the blackout and make the room almost as light as day; but with all these disquieting things there are lovely things as well. At ‘last there is sunshine and warmthâ€" and one had almost forgotten what‘ the cosiness of bodily warmth was like. During the day the blackbirds sing: a couple of sturdy lads, tree- top high, shouting defiance to each other across the gardens. And to- day ‘Gran’ called me down to the garden, where we had tea on the lawn, with the sheepâ€"dog whinnying with pleasure. At the end of a day like this one’s last bedtime thought is, Well, if it’s the last day I ever have it’s been a good one. And can one feel more than that? I hardly think so. A relative of mine, living near Bath, writes and tells me that she is sheltering three homeless people. She doesn’t moan about it, or even make any comment. She simply states the fact, and finishes: ‘Must stop now. In great haste. Very busy, naturally.’ I am quite sure that she, in her quiet country seclu- sion, with her nice house and placid garden, never imagined that her life would take such a turn; but she’s risen to it grandly, bless her. | We shall build monuments of our 4an when “this is over; and in a few Ehundred years’ time, maybe, humans will stare up at them and think of ‘us in this most strenuous age of 'ours. As far as that goes, We could even rebuild some or the old "ones, for we have this great advantage over the past â€" we have our photo- graphs. Nobody knows quite what a Saxon village looked like, and we ‘are worse than vague about what stood on ”the site of St. Paul’s ’Cathe- dral, centuries ago; but, if We wish- ed, we could copy most of the things we’ve treasured up to now. Yet I hope we shall first of all think oi ‘bu‘flding things typical of our own age; why not? For thus is history made â€" and appreciated. .1 Real England Yes, think of the most peaceful place you know, and then imagine it torn by horrors in the night. Then you will have some, niea of the be- wilderment, one feels in remember- ing these old scenes, these quiet squares and gentle green parks and primrose-spattered lanes. I said we were sentimental, didn’t I? But not too sentimental to put first things first. E‘xeter has romantic associations. There was a certain young man”: Ah well! He must be a. middle-aged old dear by now; and I must con- fess that, till this happened, I had not thought of him in a long while. Then Exeter: real England, that town. I wonder how my friends have fared, poor dears? We so of- ten wonder that, these past two years. But so often they are all right, and we take comfort from that. 'and getting through the prolonged agony of examinations â€" and feelâ€" ‘ing just a little ill for weeks at a ltime, in our anxiety. But it was fun. In Bath â€" in a famous old building that is now largely rubble I hear -â€" I went to my first real grown-up ball. Into the room I swept (I trust) in my first real ball gown with a fishâ€"tail; secretly terri- lfied of tripping over the thing, deâ€" spite hours of secret practice! Life lseemed to open up that night, and I I I | l l l l wondered what was ahead. Well, I know now...some of it. And it's been a great game. No Enemy can take that away, at least. There were lots of parties and dances after that: for one learned how to get clean and behave like everybody else, un- der pressure. Maybe Bath, when it shakes down again, will be as cor- rect as ever. I can’t'doubt it. There are things in Bath even more monu- mental than the monuments, believel THE LIBERAL. RICHMOND HILL. ONTARIO WEDDING STATIONERY The popular Bridal- Rose Wedding stafionery, printed in correct and at- tractive style, is obtainable at The liberal Office, Richmond'HiII. See 'us {before Ming your order. a revolution of no mean order. There are no railings round the London parks now, and how well one remem- bers the time when they prickled with railings; not only on the bound- aries but in every spot where citi- zens had the temerity to walk a- cross the grass! Yet I am told (though I admit I don’t know how true it is!) that the ceremony of locking the gates at night still per- sists. . Yes, I suspect that the disappear- ance of those railings is a portent; and it’s taken a world war to bring it about. But it Would! Here's to the tearing down of more railings, the violation of mo.» smugness. We don’t mind, now that it's happened; and anybody who ‘novvs our little Island well will agree that here is It is one thing to say that an Englishman's home is his castle, but it's another (and surely ridiculous?) thing to barricade the place. Peo- ple with evil intentions, I fancy, are not to be kept out by paltry four- feet-high spikes; so what is the great thought behind these erec- tions? I suspect that it is a relic of that curious, old-fashioned, small- home notion of ‘keeping myself to myself,’ so long a cherished ideal. Personally, I’ve never been able to see much more in it than a tacit disparagement of one’s neighbours, with a flavoring of personal con- ceit. Anyway, the railings have' gone, and with them a lot of that dreadful. hideous smugness of the last century. The roads look wider, the houses humanised. True, the laurel and privet hedges remain, but there is something far more friend-I ly about a hedge. It is a living thing, and not a bristling array of half-rusty bars. him'self hugely. All the little gard- ens down the avenue are beginning to shine with flower: and â€" best of all â€" the iron railings have disap- peared. One can bless the muni- tions-law for that, at least. They always depressed me, those nasty little iron barriers and squeaking little gates. Maybe their removal has a deep significance, after all! I am hoping so. It is a diverting thought , - ”,1- V- “"4": ling the scenic wonders of the Rocky Mountains, but none more intimate or soul-satisfying than following the less-frequented trails and byways, on horseback or on foot, under the friendly guidance of two of Canada’s lead- ing alpine societies . . . the Sky Line Trail Hikers and the Trail Riders of the Canadian Rockies. Both groups have set the date and planned colorful itineraries for their annual outings which this year will cover some of the Rockies’ major scenic highlights in the vicinity of Banff, Alta. The Trail Riders will set out from Banff Springs Hotel July 24, and W111 enjoy five days in the saddle. here are many ways of enjoy- scenic wnhdarq nr Hm Hikers and Riders Invade Eagle’s Domain BOX 467 51 Petawawa Avenue Newtonbrook, Ont. Phone Win. 738 Estimates Given ELECTRICAL CONTRACTOR GENERAL REPAIRS PHONE 319 AURORA [ill yOur feed requirements Founded by J. Murray Gibbon, general publicity agent for the Canadian Pacific Railway, both organizations have world-wide SHINGLING ‘ The Sky Line Trail Hikers, whose members rely on their own legs rather than horse-power, have their annual “safari” sched- uled for July 31 to August 3. They too will start out from Banff, and armed with camera and alpenstock, will explore the district around Simpson Bass and nearby Sunshine Valley Where their main camp will be located. as well as the joys of camp life en route. Their main camp will be located at; lovely Egypt Lake about half-way on the trail. 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And when day is done, they gather around friendly camp- fires for hearty meals, sing-songs and later sleep in tee-pees or. under the stars. memberships, and continue to en- roll new members every year. Each year they take to the trail, the Sky Line Hikers on foot, and the Trail Riders mounted on sure- footed mountain-bred horses. Don’t run low JONES COAL Co. Richmond Hill Phone 188 on coal. Let us fill your bin with our RED trade marked premium coal that costs you not a penny extra. Thornhill 172W PAGE SEVEN Rich mond Hill $11.95 $49.50