The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1933-07-07
ENCLAND'S INNS
ARE CHARMING
Old Hostelries Scattered All
Over the Country.

" 4
still has its sign out 1t con-
tinues a distinctly 'going con-
Germ" OF this fact many a Red Lion
or Green Dragon bears plain witness
by it's record of active hospitality dat
Ing back for hundreds of years with
out break, Should one imagine 1t at
all moribund affair in its last bloom.
highly picturesque but fated soon to
disappear along with other landmarks
of antiquity. he is greatly mistaken.
Neither is 1t holding on merely by vir-
tue of acquired impetus, as he might
possibly fancy.
The old inn is very living factor
indeed in the scheme of modern exist
ence Attracted by it's ineffable charm,
thousands habitually resort thither for
lodging or refreshment, and most inn
keepers are fully aware of the substan-
tial advantage they derive by preserv-
ing in their premises all the essentials
of ancient character.
Now and then 1t happens that an
old hostelry seems to be altogether one
of those idyllic survivals from by
gone day, so invested by mysterious,
elusive halo of romance, and so hidden
in some out-of-the-way corner that one
can come upon it only by the barest
lucky chance-a thing whose discovery
you must ever afterward cherish in the
lavender and rose petals of memory as
an experience too rare to befall one
fol fryf IN p1If q
matter of actual fact, old inns are
dotted over the whole length and
breadth of England.
Most Of the Swans and Mermaids,
the Mitres, White Harris, and Crowns.
are not concealed in remote places,
that they have to be made the objects
of special visits to be seen. No par
ticularly keen sight is required to dis
cover them.
Plenty of Inns Everywhere.
Besides all the old inns you cannot
help discovering on the main roads
and in the towns, there are those
others, Of course, on lonely heaths or
fronting peaceful village green's.
There are likewise modest "ordinaries''
by the Drinks of the little rivers where
the disciples of IZaak Walton love to
lodge. And there are inns at bridge
ends or where roads meet, to say moth
ing of seaside inns whose windows
look out to sea or command busy har-
Dor views.
In short, there are plenty Of them
Of all kinds to offer an admirable field
for the collectors. And a more fas-
cinating holiday hobby than collecting
old inns it would be hard to imagine
Time and again at an inn you will
chance upon a bit of history or ro-
nance and find the local associations
with some famous parsonage proudly
treasured by the country folk. Think,
for instance, of dropping into Dick
Turpin's birthplace, the Rose and
Crown, in the Essex hamlet of Hamp-
stead! Think of drinking toast on
the spot to the memory Of that doughty
knight of the roadi His father was
the Hampstead publican of that day,
and the people thereabout all know
Dicks story and can point out to you
his cockpit, now marked by a ring of
trees. Just across the way.
You can see, too, the knot hole In
the taproom ceiling, which is also the
floor Of the bedroom above. To this
knot hole the youthful Dick used to
glue his ear, when he was supposed
to be fast asleep In bed, and listen to
wayfaring customers below telling
tales of the latest holdups and robber-
ies. These yarns fired his Imagination
and seem to have inspired his future
career. The Hampstead folk of today
apparently have a livelier recollection
Of Dick than Of another Hampstead
celebrity, the great Doctor Harvey of
Decentralization fame.
Whether you purposely make pill
grimage to old inns, or whether you
casually seek their shelter, bear in
mind that they are neither Ritz-Carl-
tons nor Biltmores. Put aside for
little while your accustomed notions Of
Twentieth century luxury and splen-
dor. Be willing to take things as you
find them. For a day or two, forget
about the regiment of uniformed pages
you generally see in modern establish
ments-the hall porters, the bedside
telephones, and all the array of patent
electric gadgets that can be switched
on and off at will.
Pass Up the luxuries.
All or some of these adjuncts you
may be surprised to meet with in more
than one old inn where you would least
expect to find them; but IL you find
none of them, 1t will do you no harm
to walk upstairs instead of being taken
up in lift, or to go to bed by the
light of candle instead of by the
glare of 32-candle power electric bulbs.
What you are always certain to find
IN all of these old ordinaries will be
comfort Of really homely. substantial
kind, scrupulous cleanliness, genuine
courtesy, from mine host down to
BOOTS" and unfeigned hospitality
whose character none could mistake.
Not least In adding it's share to your
enjoyment will be that battling atmos-
phere that pervades well-kept hostel
ries Of long repute. IF you are at all
sensitive, you will detect 1t immedi-
ately you cross the threshold.
Atmosphere" is the only thing you
can call 1t. It is an elusive, subtle
thing that well-nigh defies attempts at
close analysis; it is not exactly an
odor o. a series of odors neither is 1t
altogether attributable to what you
subconsciously perceive with the eye.
Rather 1t is composite sense Of linen
that has lain in lavender. brasses con-
scientiously polished by generations of
tidy housemaids. floors and furniture
neatly waxed, good pictures on the