EX-MILLIONAIRE NOW PENNILESS

Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 170, 15 April 1939, Page 7

EX-MILLIONAIRE NOW PENNILESS

Says He Is Happier WIFE COOKS AND CLEANS IN 20-ROOM HOUSE Mr. Henry Fenton, teetotal, nonsmoking, one-time millionaire, now penniless, is happy in his wife’s 20roonied house in Dewsbury with his old hobby—tinkering with cars. A few years ago, when he controlled three of Dewsbury’s biggest mills, with a capital of £2,000,000, it was highpowered touring cars. Now it is a 10-years-old 12h.p. one, which his neighbours call “the rattle trap.” Writing the other day to the Dewsbury magistrates offering to pay 10/from the fine of £2 for a motor offence, Mr. Fenton, former wool “king,” said he was now dependent on the charity of friends. Although he confesses that he has no money, he says he is happier than when he was wealthy. Works For Fuu. “I don’t work for money now, I work for fun—and I enjoy it,” he stated. “I do not mind not having holidays. You see, I never had one in my life.” Oil painting is another of Mr. Fenton’s hobbies, but mainly he can be found with a spanner and screwdriver working at the engine of his car—and whistling to himself. Grey-haired Mrs. Fenton, at one time hostess at dinner-parties noted throughout the North, now dons an overall and does her own housework and cleaning with a charwoman to help her. The house and car belong to her. She and her husband seldom go out. They speak of Mr. Fenton with respect in the mills. Towns round about talk of his skill as a manufacturer of woollens. They also tell stories of his business life. Offer Declined. Typically outspoken, he did not mince words to those with whom be came iu contact. Said an old business associate of Mr. Fenton: “There were no half measures about him. Once he wished to present a cup to a golf course. They declined it. “He quietly made arrangements to purchase a farm and land which cut the course in two, bought them, and then sat back and chuckled at the rage of the members.” Many other stories are told of Mr. Fenton. He would travel in the days of his business deals third-class to London, talk broad Yorkshire iu the train—and then stay in private suites In the city’s most expensive hotels. Once, when driving with his wife after a dispute as to who would open the gates at his home, he said: “Well, we will get through somehow,” accelerated, and crashed through the ornamental ironwork, leaving piles of wreckage behind.