Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1891-06-28

L
morse1essly as ever ssGoody Blake" wa.
clutched by "Harry Gill" The man says
Lord bless u.s." but does not seem very
frightened. He probably knows what it is
| to be frequently surprised in the dark by
desperate people. You demand with sur
pressed emotion to be led to your room.
Lord bless US, yes, certainly; but you dc
not loosen your grip upon the individual.
! BY and by you have penetrated the some.
where, and you find yourself in room that
must be your room because you recognize
some features Of your luggage
| WHEN FALLING OVER IT.
| But there you are at last, and what a
| kindly wraiths are insulted by what is here
In pretension, patching, mold and decay
| One fears to use drawer lest the furni-
| ture will crurnble in pieces and dolorous
| spirits be Embossed. The washstand is
propped; the bowl is cracked; towel is as
shredded as politicians record. You can
only sit in safety on the floor. You ''tip''
and shiveringly ask for light and lire.
Lord bless you, yes, certainly;-as to a
| light; but there must be consultation about
| the fire. He departs and you stand
| there supported by hope and compact,
black atmosphere for good half hour. he
| never returns. Another man does. This
one brings one tiny candle family limiting Of
necessity for light. You suggest that you
will need more. He is appalled,. But you
pledge your ability to pay for two, or even
three, candles, if all are burned together.
That may be admitted, but the innovation is
too much. You fee this new man. Lord
bless us, yes, certainly; he will see. He
goes away and never returns. You take
your candle and make little trip around
the echoing halls, but you find no one.
Then you return to your room, find the
bell-cord, and enliven the hostelry for a
long time with doleful tollings, janglings
and impetuouS staccatOS Of q remote but
strengthened bell By and by another man
seems anxious to know if you have really
rung. You endeavor to make it clear that
you have, and why you have; and you fee
him and say, "My good fellow!'' and
There's a manl' and other friendly
things. This one goes and stays like the
rest. You begin on the bell again,
or, thoroughly reckless and desperate, rush
when the limit of human patience is
reached. In moment they are all there;
all the pack of prosecutors who first gave
you welcome You address them in unmis-
taxable language. They are surprised,
panied, Inundated, at your extraor-
binary conduct, But by frank state
the unjointed sections OF furniture
for that purpose, and unless you are
furnished enought candles you will make
pyre of the inn itself for light with which
to get out of it, you are eventually pro-
vided with what you want-by two or
three other people who have been lying in
wait for this very donouement; these only
submitting to accommodate you after their
palms have been crossed with silver, like
the bad old witches of the story books.
In every other act or fact about the Brit
ish inn, there is the same hopeless stub
bornness. Once within it you must resign
yourself soul and body to the indescribable
affront and incivility. The guest is crea-
ture to be plucked, bullied and pillaged. To
these beings with wooden heads and straw
hearts, who do not ''keep' them but are
kept by them, civility is unknown, comfort
is unheeded, innovation is treason, and dy-
Mantle turks in
ALL SUGGESTION OF IMPROVEMENT.
1t would be captious and dishonest to as
sert that there are no pleasant exceptions;
but any one who has travelled much in Eng
land and Scotland knows that the above
picture is q true one OF nine-tenths of those
inns the average wanderer finds in the
average English or Scottish town or village.
Acquaintance in every place visited would
no doubt reduce ones percentage of misery.
passing rapidly from place to place, the en-
tire system is one of grab-and-pluck The
bar is the British innkeeper's god. He has
no pride in his house and the entertainment |
he might give. If your bill for liquors is
likely to four or five times exceed that for |
coddled. If you have something to do be- |
sides guzzle, you may as well understand |
first as last that you are not wanted, and |
will not be decently treated. In nine-tenths |
of all British inns there is not public |
room-they are all VIGOROUSLY tiny and |
ELSEWHERE the fumes and smoke of liquor |
and tobacco do not form a dense and awful |
pillar of cloud and fire by night and day. |
The inn is absolutely the bar annex here.
But there is hope for the traveller in |
England and Scotland in two directions. If |
one will make rule of patronizing only the
temperance hotels, or of hunting out the |
humblest and most insignificant inn that
can be found in the place of arrival, my
word for it, a clean bed, fairly COM
Portable room and the best attention and
service to be had in this country will, in
nearly all cases, be secured The temper
ance hotels of our own country are as |
rule only fit places for Standardization or
suicide. Here they are the only places
where one can secure any manner of ade-
quate entertainment.
In Wales, in the English lake district, in
some portions of the sleepy old hamlets of I
the English midland shires, and in many of
the characterize villages of Scotland, you
will come upon little hotels that are half
inn and half home. They are struggling,
one-story structures with sway-back, moss
covered roofs and huge caves and chimneys,
and are nearly always half hidden beneath
ivy, roses and Towering vines. They are
rich in that sweet and unctuous reminiscent.
.ial life of the old stage-coaching days: and,
provided with numberless hooks, crannies,
cupboards and delightful corners, are each
4 labyrinth Of quaintness and repose. Per-
;onally, in my wayside trampings, this sort
If dreamful old Scottish nest has been
found the most delightful. BY the peat
blaze of its cavernous fireplace, in the
presence of scenes white as doves wing,
bacon crisp and brown. an omlet Us yellow
IS frost-painted beech-leaf, Jug of cream
sweet as a nut-kernel, fragrant brewing Of
ea in the DELPHI pot under the ''cosey." and
/ guidwife bustling about in o sort of
,heery frenzy to make you welcome, you
lave reason to thank British ''conserva-
ism" that these few olden gentle places
till remain. EDGAR l. WAKEMAN.