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There is a new man, whoever he may be, that has to be hired to take Mr. Hummel‘s place. Let‘s pay him a decent salary to begin with. Let‘s raise Clerk Bourne‘s salary to the point that it should be. Don‘t let us be niggardly. Don‘t let us pride ourselves on one hand of being the "Biggest Little Town in The World", with the lowest tax rate, and still going to come lower, and on the other hand expect to have high class officials in our town office at a laboring man‘s pay You can‘t make it work. It don‘t add up. Grimsby is too big to be paying picayune salaries to our most important town offiâ€" cials.. They are the men who carry on irreâ€" spective of what councils might do. They are the men who are directly responsible to the taxpayer for the real conduction of the business affairs of the town, therefore let us keep our capable men by paying them a decent salary. What is this town going to do if "Old Geof." passes out in 15 minutes? Things like that have happened. He is the only backâ€" bone on municipal law that the present town council has. Up until this year the "Little Mayor" carried all that burden. He knew the law books (the same as "Old Geof.") frontwards, backwards, sidewards and upâ€" sideâ€"down. There is no one in the present council that knows whether the cover on the Municipal Act is red or yellow. They all run to "Geof". Therefore why shouldn‘t that man be paid for his accountant ability and his muniâ€" cipal knowledge. His assistant clerk must be paid likewise. Grimsby has today the best Town Clerk in the Dominion of Canada, and the most unâ€" derpaid man. Geoffrey G. Bourne, with all his accountant and municipal knowledge is only getting clogse to $1,800 a year. A mere pittance for the work and the hours that the man puts in. / LET°S GET AWAY FROM THE PENNY WISE, POUND FOOLISH SYSTEM Why did the Grimsby Stove and Furnace Co. hire Armand Hummel? Because they know his ability and his capabilities and were willing to pay him for them. That is why free enterprise always succeeds. Armand Hummel has given 14 of the best years of his life to the Town of Grimsby. Yet he was only getting $1,450. For all the jobs that Armand Hummel done for the town of Grimsby, he received the magnificent salary of $1,450, all told. Hours meant nothing, Sunday included Alâ€" ways at the beck and call of the citizenry. A telephone constantly ringing. Can you wonâ€" der that he accepts a position at a much greater figure in private business life, and a chance to go some place in this world. When the telephone rings it will not be somebody complaining about something that they had nothing to complain about, and had to be pacified, but it will be somebody that will be asking him how he keeps that Firemen‘s team so high up in the standing of the Men‘s Bowling league. A little private life for once, Armand B. Hummel, as the news colâ€" umns of this paper tell you, has resigned his multiferious positions of Tax Collector, Asâ€" sistant Collector of Water Rates, Relief Ofâ€" ficer and several others for which he received no dough, to accept a position as Office Manager for Grimsby Stove and Furnace Co. Why? Because the business field looks brighter, is brighter for the future, and is more remunerative. Also he will have two bosses instead of 2,000. Grimsby is losing a very capable official from the Town office. . 5 oo .. oo . nome . omm c mm .nn on c o d e e e e w True independence is never afraid of appearâ€" ing dependent, and true dependence leads always to the most perfect independence. Issued every Thursday from office of publiâ€" cation, Main and Oak Sts., Grimsby, by LIVINGSTON and LAWSON, Publishers. Subscriptionâ€"$2.00 per year in Canada and $2.50 per year in United States, payable in advance. ||) oo omm . oo mm n e o e e d BP Somebody is going to take Armand The Grimsby Independent FACTS & FANCIES Member Canadian Weekly Newspaper Association. "Lincoln County‘s Leading Weekly" Established 1885 Telephone 36 Nights, Sundays, Holidays, 539 Frank Fairborn, Jr. J. ORLON LIVINGSTON, Editor It is an old saying that the bigger the town the smaller the peonle. Whether this is the case or not, the records do show that the majority of leaders in presentâ€"day North American life come from small towns. With gasoline rationing and the crowdâ€" ing of street cars and buses, the city dwelâ€" lers‘ chances of getting home at noon have worsened. That noon nap, which appears more important as the national heart â€"ailâ€" ment curve mounts. has become for many nearly an impossibility. _ Small towns have tended to decline in population during the war, unless they have had an airfield or some such war operation nearby. The cities have grown, some of them vastly. One of the advantages of living in a small town is that you can get home for luncheon and have a nap afterwards. City people usually live so far from their work that they can‘t get home at noon. They have to spend the midâ€"day period standing in line at a restaurant or eating at their desks or on their laps. (Only a few very resourceful city folk manage to get a nap after luncheon. Usually there are too many other people around, and anyway, the general bustle disâ€" courages sleep. Wait a moment! There‘s good news. As we go to press there comes a dispatch stating that a new process has been developed which will eliminate runs in silk hosieryâ€"another gain for progress. THAT NOON NAP But we are in a hurry, too great a hurry! We want the millennium tomorrow morning â€"5.30 daylight saving time. It won‘t come â€"‘till we earn it. There are times when the hurry hinders rather than helps. Think of this : If the national income could be increasâ€" ed one and twoâ€"thirds per cent per year it would double in 50 years â€" gain as much in the next fifty years as in the previous 1944â€" what a triumph that would beâ€"can we make it? Nor should we ignore the steady imâ€" provement in the quality of products producâ€" ed. ~It is in evidence everywhere. The bread we eat, the meat and eggs we buy, the milk we consume, has been standardized at a highâ€" er quality. There is here, an improvement in the standard of living, which price indexes fail to record but which represents a material change for the better, in the things we buy and use. All this was evolved under a system of production for the masses, not for the few. It gave to the workers more of the things they wanted for steadily decreasing amounts of effort. Nor should we forget the leader of them all, the motor car. It too might have been confined to the luxury class. The men who developed it had a greater problemâ€"they had to find a wider market for a higher priced product. Fortunately, they had the larger vision. They planned for mass production. They moved towards lower prices. Year by year, they built more serviceable cars, bringâ€" ing them steadily within the buying range of more and more of the people of the nation. They carried out, in their plants, the idea of great production per man and with greater production went higher payâ€"they brought to the minds of men the fact that higher earnâ€" ings are the fruit of increased production, there is no other way. Take, for instance, the telephone. It was, at first, regarded as a toy, few dreamed of the part it would play in business. It is a great labor saving device. Then moving picâ€" tures and radio, from small beginnings, they have grown tremendously, bringing joy, hapâ€" piness, and wider knowledge to millions. The household refrigerator is now common equipâ€" ment! Progress was slow at first. Now there are over 20,000,000 on the continent of America. Who can measure the help and health this gives to millions of people. Capâ€" italism brings to the world, more goods, betâ€" ter quality for steadily decreasing amounts of effort. Industry might have taken a different road. The economic system could have proâ€" vided more things for people of great wealth, but capitalism meant a system of mass proâ€" duction, production for the people, at low prices, prices they could pay. on volume production, increased purchasing powerâ€"it cannot be succeessful without it. Joseph Schumpeter, a widely known and disâ€" tinguished economist has put the situation in these words : The luxuries of today are the necessities of tongorrow. Our industrial system is based Queen Elizabeth, who reigned in Engâ€" land from 1558 to 1603, was the proud posâ€" sessor of silk hosiery. That in, itself, is an interesting fact, but the story it tells is of far greater significance. Hummel‘s job. Let‘s hope that Town counâ€" cil sees that that man gets a living wage, alâ€" so that he is a Veteran of the First or the present war. PROGRESS AND SILK HOSIERY "‘The capitalist achievement does not consist of providing more silk stockings for queens, but in bringing them within the reach of factory girls for steadily decreasing amounts of effort." THBE GRIMSBY INDEPENDEN T Cheerfulness is an excellent wearing quality. It has been called the bright weathâ€" er of the heart. It gives harmony to the soul, and it is perpetual song without wordsâ€"it is tantamount to repose. It enables nature to recruit its strength, whereas worry and disâ€" content debilitate it, involving constant wear and tear. 3 A recipe refers to mock turkey. Some of the stuff served as turkey is certainly mockery. A wedding ring is like a tourniquet; it stops your cireulation. "They damn well have," answered the Divisional Officer Commanding. At this point, one of the privates noticed a rather elderly patient waiting in a corner of the room and asked : "Gee, they damn well ought to have made you a general by now." ‘"When I get out of this, nobody‘ll ever get a uniform on me again," said a third. "I don‘t see how the regulars stick it." "I say, Pop, how long have you been in the army ?" ‘"You‘re right, chum," said another. "It was the same in the last war, and it‘ll be the same in the next." : The seene was outside the Xâ€"ray room, where a number of patients in hospital dressâ€" ing gowns were awaiting their turn. The conversation among the waiting patients soon developed into the usual grouse. ‘"Nothing but waiting in line in the blanketyâ€"blank army," said one of them. Respect for the censorship and for good order and discipline in the armed forces reâ€" quires that names be suppressed in the folâ€" lowing anecdote, reported recently from a Canadian military hospital. Of course when they get to be leaders they usually move into a city and presumably fail to contrive their noon nap. This probâ€" ably one more of nature‘s compensations, giving the younger people from the back country a chance of capturing the big jobs. HOME FRONT STORY Bob, the third man, spoke up "I always said it was colder in this part of Ontario seventyâ€"five years ago than anywhere else. Out West, it wasn‘t anyâ€" thing like it, One day when I was farming in Alâ€" berta, I drove into town with my fast team in the sleigh and the collie dog trotting along behind. â€" Beâ€" fore I was ready to go home they said that there was a Chinook wind coming up, so I got my team and galloped back.. We rode on the snow all the way, but the dog was running on dry ground beâ€" hind me all the time." mlllllllllllmllllllllllIlnllllllmlIln""ullllllcumll:aimnmmmmnmmmmmmmmn:o} ‘"‘That was the house that used to be so cold in winter," Joe recalled. ‘"I mind the day I was havâ€" ing supper with you and the cat jumped up by the wash basin.. Your wife threw the tea out of her cup at the cat and it froze solid in the air and killed the cat when itshit the beastie." ‘"Well," Dave went on, "the day I cut that one down, I had time to go into the house, cook myself some bacon and eggs and eat them before it hit the ground." "He wanted me to cut down a tree for him," said Dave, "but these little trees they have nowadays are too dangerous. They dont take long enough to fall. You mind that big elm tree that used to stand behind my old log house on the 4th of Garry, Joe?" Perhaps that was just as well. Old Dave, a reâ€" tired farmer from Garafraxa, was telling a story and paid no attention to me as I entered. _ I was driving slowly along a township road, reâ€" membering that all four tires were old, when one of them went flat. A little service station stood at the next corner, so I walked there. The owner said he could fix it; I could wait in the office while he lookâ€" ed after the tire, but he cautioned me not to believe all I heard. That man may have been born on a farm but he must have lived in the city for a long, long time. Crackers haven‘t come in barrels for a generation or more; the oldâ€"timers no longer congregate in the country store; they prefer the comfort of the front office of the little garage which used to be a blackâ€" smith shop; and they don‘t talk politics except at election time. More likely, they will be trying to outdo each other in telling tall stories, an art which still survives in the rural parts of Ontario. S Cool tm c amg 1c e m m on c . e c n . m : e . e 1 e . e 1 > THE DAYS OF LONG AGO WHEN MEN WERE MEN AND COLD WAS COLD A political commentator, speaking in Toronto the other day, said that anyone who wanted to feel the pulse of the nation should join the crowd sitting around the crackerâ€"barrel in a country store, writes Hugh Templin in The Fergus Record. NIR.g:g!=!.2s25.2.9\2\9@.9.9\2)2==4 ‘"Thirtyâ€"four years," was the answer. I gasped a bit, but the others seemed unimpressâ€" Joe nodded. Penned and Pilfered ‘WAY BACK WHEN Frank Fairborn, Jr. I staggered out, but by the time I reached the car I had settled down enough to drive the four miles home. ‘"When we was going back to Guelph, they thought they would stop me, so they built a high ‘board fence around the park so I couldn‘t knock the ‘ball out of it. But I fooled them. The night before the game I went down with a keyhole saw and cut one of the knotholes an inch bigger than a baseball. Then the first time I came to bat, I knocked the ball through the knothole, clean as a whistle." ‘"Talking of sports," says Bob, "I used to be the best player on the old Belwood baseball team. We used to take on all the cities around here, and beat them, too. The Guelph team came to Belwood that year and we beat them by 42 to 28. I knocked out fifteen home runs myself. ‘"Well, then I started around the rock, but that deer kept on the other side, no matter how fast or slow I went. Bye and bye I got mad. I wasn‘t goâ€" ing to let no deer get the ‘best of me. I sat down and thought it over. There was a couple of little trees close together. I put the barrel of my gun beâ€" tween them and bent it carefully so the thing would shoot around a circle." "Sure it did, but that dang deer heard the shot and jumped out of the road and the bullet came around and hit me in the back. I was in bed for three months." "Well, it wasn‘t all work in those days either. There used to be quite a few deer around here, and many‘s the one I used to shoot. Some of them was pretty smart, too. One day I was chasing a big buck out by the 4th line along the Grand river. Just when I got about in range, he started around the big rock that used to be on the Mills farm. You reâ€" member ?" "Just at the foot of the hill, the wagon stuck in the mudhole that used to be there whenever it rained. The team kept pulling and buckskin traces stretched out and out, so I drove them up the hill to the mill, walked them around a big tree a couple of times and tied the traces to the tree. Couldn‘t get home that night, so I slept in the mill. In the mornâ€" ing the sun came out bright and warm, and the traces begun to dry out. When I went outside, there was the wagon load of logs coming up the bLil." Surely, I thought, that is ently not. It was Dave‘s turn "Lucky you didn‘t have buckskin harness that day," remarked Joe. "That was all I owned one year. Made it myself, go‘)d and strong it was, but it stretched like all getâ€"out when it got wet. One day I was bringing a load of logs to Black‘s mill, and I got caught in the rain. Terrible atrocity was staged on Main street last week. Some unscrupulous, Hitlerâ€"minded male or female stole the editor‘s pasteâ€"pot. Now we ask you, how can you run a newspaper without a pasteâ€"pot and its pal, a pair of scissors ? Art. Vickers, manager of The Roxy, ex that he came to Grimsby to get away from rific snow banks of Cornwall. Hasn‘t done since he arrived but shovel snow. €enmminmcemimmmecnmmmmtcreniint ETedcE NU INrE & An epidemic of head colds among the merchants and clerks, Like the crazy editor of this paper they all rushed outside, bareheaded, to watch the big bullâ€" dozer at work. Provincial Constable Hart, the Caistor and Gainsboro townships, ex editor his prowess on a pair of snowst them back in that country. "Brad" Bradford of the Village Inn discussing farm problems with his Over The Hill customers. T. R. Hunter telling Norm Nelles that there will be lots of peaches in August and September. Not to worry about them now. Too cold to pack peaches anyway. Mayor Bull finding out daily, that the Mayor‘s job is no sinecure. West, The Barber, giving Senator E. D. Smith his weekly hair and whisker trim. a The Editor has a new Devil Todd. ‘‘Sandy" to you people. Mark St. John wearing an overcoat. This must be a cold winter. The garage man stuck his head in the door. "Your car "And did it work?" I asked. Apparently they did. I had never heard of it Gordon Hannah offering Canaries for sale MAIN= SJ REET is ready now." Thursday, February 8th, 1945 the limit, but apparâ€" again. t, the custodian of ips, extolling to the snowshoes. He needs Roxy, explaining David Alexander the terâ€" a thing