To us children he (Mr Ewing) was our very own ‘Mr Chips’ and invariably we would each receive half a crown whenever we encountered him on his afternoon walk. If we were particularly lucky, he would send us to the ‘Big House’ for ice-cream – a rare treat in the early 1950s.

On Saturday mornings Mr Ewing would make his rounds, giving each tradesman £1 and the apprentices, ten shillings. Needless to say, we were all peeping around corners awaiting his arrival!

The story of Andrew Ewing is partly one of rags to riches – but there is more to it than that, since his business success was combined with a generosity of spirit that led him to give away a fortune in pursuit of his ultimate ambition to die a poor man.

The sparkle and morning-freshness of the shop, and the butter-conjuring girl, formed a mind-picture which accompanied the whole of my youth.(about the Buttercup Dairy).