The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1906-06-30
ON WALKING TRIP.
Where the Pedestrian Takes His Ease
At English Inn

3Iu ndIIDMIlS LII at Inc lOp l4lC ollSNl y
light of the sky above is seen through
a chink.
And in the corner of the fireplace
there is a hoblike seat, where one may
sit down and watch the play of the
flames. The inn is only twenty miles
away from the roar and the boom and
the mystery of London. but as far as
you are concerned, it might be thous-
ands upon thousands of miles off. Nay
London might be off in some other
world AS you sit here in the corner of
the great fireplace you think of 1t. II
you think of it at all, as some inn
menset confused place seen years ago
in a dim stream. For you London is
dead It's roar is stilled. 1t is Ssne.
Here before you is the great fireplace
Of the old inn. Here are the strange,
pickering, dying and rising flames You
are dreaming of the old inn.
The landlord brings you ale. How
delicious is the flavor! Where is the.
wine that is to be compared with it?
This good, honest ale! You take
drink from the mug. It's flavor Is at
once soft and sharp-and inclosing this
flavor is an aroma not to be described.
You drink deep. land then you set the
mug slowly down. All here is an after
flavor. How delicious i&is! Fine, old
toasty ale! Perhaps you give the ale.
that title, too, yourself. Old, toasty
4 ale,! 1t is worth all the wine you have
ever tasted Perhaps you are one who
/ has roughed it, one who has smoothed
! 1t here and there. You may have trav-
| elled over the oceans and over the
world, but l defy you to say that you
( have never drunk anything half SO
good as this ale This good old deli
cious ale out Of mug! 1t would not
do to drink it out of glass The es-
rence Of its flavor would then be gone.
| You must drink it out of mug.
The landlord comes to talk to you.
For While he interests YOU and then
you thoghts go off. This strange old
inn Is a place for one to dream in.
What is that you hear? 1t comes to
you clearly and distonctly as you sit
here by the fire. "A clear far off rising
note. Yes, it is lark, Its song comes
to you as you sit here by the fire. The
inn is now silent and quiet. The land
4 lord has left you. You are alone, and
listening to the outside wonderful song.
| The song rises and rises and dies away,
| and rises again. You hear the deep
undernote, and the glorious, thrilling
song. How quiet the inn is! The song
| comes nearer and nearer, and then 1t
goes off. And it dies family away
Here is the great rough table where
the laboreres sit when they come to the
| inn in the evening to get their ale
And here are the benches where they
sit. Over yonder on the wall is the
target with hooks, at which they play
the game of rings. They stand off and
| pitch rubber onto the hooks.
1t Is now O'clock in the afternoon.
They will be here in an hour Perhaps
you will wait and see them.
You 20 to the door of the inn and
look out. The sun is shining full along
the straight country road. Altar, away
down on the left side Of the road are
70 be seen the tops Of the trees in the
great undulating park. You saw the
deer browsing in it as you walked up
the road something over an hour ago.
And over there is the little village
church. And behind 1t is an ivy clad
cottage.
And up on the other side of the road
from the church the houses of the vii
lage stretc. Smoke wreathes softly
from the chimneys. Off in front of
you is a great field. A man is working
at the far end Of it with a horse and
plough. He is ploughing it slowl
along in the shadows that are cast by
great trees. He goes slowly along till
at last he energies from the shadows
into the golden light of the sun. Horse
plough and man. They are doing rome
of the real work of the world.
A light wind is blowing. There is in
it toucht Of cold, but it is pleasan.
You go back into the inn and sit by
the fire.
Six o'clock, You seem to have been
here long time, but it is a time that
you would like to so on forever Ia
time of haze and dreams. You have
been sitting in silence drinking and
watching the flames of the Gre.
The sound of the lifting of the lacth
Of the inn door comes to YOU, and you
hear slow, heavy step. A man is
standing at the end. of the great rough
table. You look at him and he looks
at you, and then you lok away again
into the fire With you is the picture
of a sturdy awkward looking man. He
| gives to you a curious impression of
| color-the color of the earth. of clay.
You heat him sit heavily down on the
| bench. You look at him again His
face is of red4brown color His cap
is of the color of the clay His coat Is
of the color of clay His is a labbrer.
One who earns the only honest bread
that is earned in the world. He sits,
resting his arms on the great table.
The days work is done and he is tired.
Yes, give him a mug Of ale, landlord.
He deserves it, To-day he has done
the work of a man. 1t is well that he
should come to this old inn and sit and
rest.
Another laborer comes in, and an
other, and soon the space around the
great table Is filed with men drinking
from mugs of ale. They become wamed
up and rested, and they talk and chat
about what happened during their
DAYS work. At first it Is hard to
understand them, because of the odd,
rough way they have of pronuncfng
their words. Their sentences have
blunt. abrupt endings and turnings.
But the ear son becomes used to their