Morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven [Conn.]) 1848-1894, 1891-06-27

pr1e6 0t your oDstf0perousness. tne8o arc
locked, or open only upon repelling gloom.
Determined TO secure relief, you timidly
seek the coffee Room" fhuman various
Everybody there Is snoring. Then you at
tempt to descend stairs which you think
must lead to where the servants ought to
be. After you crash against sharp angles
and fall in unexpected turns this attempt
is abandoned. In desperate hope and
courage you begin scaling the ascents. to
upper mysteries. You are more success
full here, for, by following the stair railing
you can at least for some little time pro-
ceed. You 90 pretty high this way.
Doubtful of where you are, you return q
flight or two. Then you move stealthily
through a dark, stuHy hall. Like sneak
thief you try every door you find, listen
ing with beating heart for movements of
vengeance from suppositious occupants.
Your strained hearing catches the sound
of footsteps. You suddenly pounce upon
"Goody Blake" was cfutched by "Harry
GILL;" The man says, "Lord bless us!"
but does not seem very frightened. He
probably knows what it is to be frequent
ly surprised in the dark by desperate peo-
pie. You demand with suppressed emo
ton to be led to your room. Lord bless
us, yes, certainly; but you do, not loosen
your grip upon the individual. By and
by you have penetrated the somewhere,
and you find yourself in room that must
be your room because you recognize some
features of your baggage when falling
over it.
But there you are at last, and what a
room! Shades of past ages, how thy
kindly wraiths are insulted by what is
here in pretension, patching, mold and de-
cay! One fears to use a drawer lest the
furniture will crumble in pieces and dolo-
rous spirits be unloosed. The washstand
is propped; the bowl is cracked; the towel
is as SHREDDED as a politicians record. You
can only sit in safety on the floor. You
"tip" the man you have caught out of all
reason, and shiveringly ask for light and
a fire. Lord bless us, yes, certainly; as to
a light; but there must be consultation
about the fire. He departs and you stand
black atmosphere for a good half hour.
He never returns. Another man does.
This one brings one tiny candle family
limiting of light, and disclosing the extra
ordinary 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, GER
tain1y; 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 remote but
strong toned bell By and by smother
man comes, as if in doubtful attentive
ness, and 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 fell
1ow!" and s'There's man!'' and other
| friendly things. This one goes and stays,
| like the rest. You begin on the bell again,
OF. thoroughly reckless and desperate,
rush to your door and yell; yell as one will
yell 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 un-
mistakable language. They are surprised,
panied, humiliated, at your extraordinary
| conduct. But by frank statement thai
unless fire of Goals is put in your CRATE
you will utilize the unjointed sections o.
furniture for that purpose, and unless yor
are furnished enough candles you will
make a pyre of the inn itself for igh
with which to get out of it, you are even
tually provided with what you want-by
two or three other people who have beer
lying in wait for this very denouement
these only submitting to accommodate yol
after their palms have been crossed will
silver, like the bad old witches of the sto
ry-books.
In every other act or fact about tn
British inn there is the same hopeles
stubbornness. Once within it you mus
| 1><Ix - -,
bable delay, inattention and every con
ceivable affront and incivility. The CUES
is creature to be plucked, bullied an,
pillaged. To these beings with woode
heads and straw hearts, who do no
"keep" them, but are kept by them, civil
ty is unknown; comfort is unheeded; in
novation is treason; and dynamite lurk
. in all suggestion of improvement.
1t would be captious and dishonest
assert that there are no pleasant exceI
tions; but any one who has travelled niue
, in England and Scotland knows that til
above picture is true one of nineteenth
of those inns the average wanderer fine
in the average English and Scottish tow
, or village. Acquaintance in every plat
a | visited would no doubt reduce ones pc
centage of misery. But as you are con
, | PEELED to know it, in passing rapidly fro
place to place, the entire system is one
+ grab and pluck. The bar is the Britis
innkeeper's god. He has no pride in h
y house and the entertainment he migl
0 | give. If your bill for liquors is likely
1 | four or five times exceed that for bed an
i board, you are tolerated and even coddle
= If you have something to do besides gu
q zle, you may as well understand first
a last that you are not wanted, and will n
a be decently treated. In nine-tenths of G
a British inns there is not q public room
q and they are all notoriously tiny and clio
n where the fumes and smoke of liqu
and tobacco do not form dense and a,
r full pillar of cloud and fire by night al
,. day. The inn is absolutely the bar ann
e here.
n But there is hope for the traveller
] England and Scotland in two direction
"a If one will make rule of patronizil
A. only the temperance hotels, or of huntil
n out the humblest and most insignifca
A. inn that can be found in the place of ar
a val, my word for it, clean bed, fair
a comfortable room and the best attentit
+ and service to be had in this country W
n in nearly oil cases be secured. The tel
a perance hotels of our own country are q
a rule only fit places for Standardization
a suicide. Here they are the only plat
a where one can secure any manner of az
IA quate entertainment.
,r In WaleS, In the EngllSh lake district,
az some portions of the sleepy old hamlets
of the English midland shires, and in ma
n of the characterful villages of Scotlar
"a you will come upon little hostels that
g. half inn and half home. They are str,
Va Cling, story structures with with sw,
ia back, moss-covered roofs and huge ea'
a. and chimneys, and are nearly always h
an hidden beneath ivy, roses and fowl
n. vines. They are rich in that sweet q
~ unctuous reminicential life of the
a. stage-coaching days; and, provided w
N numberless hooks, crannies, cupbosl
~ and delightful corners, are each lsl
,v rynth of quaintness and repose. Perst
~ ally, in my wayside tramp iags, this 81
% "a of dreamful old Scottish ness has be
II. found the most delightful. By the p
ut blaze of its cavernous fireplace, in
~ presence of econes white as a doves vii
oa bacon crisp and brown, an omeIet as J
nt low as frost painted beect-1eaf, jug
90 cream sweet as nut Kernel, fragr,
nr brewing of tea in the DELPHI pot under
~ "cosey," and guidwife bustling about
cb sort of CHEEKY frenzy to make You "
"a come, you have reason to thank Brit
M Conservatism" that these few -olden q
or tie places still remain.
no EDGAR L. WAKEMAN
up
of HERE AND THERE.