but--like the bar--are no longer used.
The brass name plates on the bedroom doors--Washington, Lafayette,
Howe, and so on--have no significance, but were put on by the
present proprietor simply as reminders that those great men were
once beneath the roof; but in what rooms they slept or were
entertained, history does not record.
The automobile will bring new life to these deserted hostelries.
For more than half a century steam has diverted their custom,
carrying former patrons from town to town without the need of
half-way stops and rests. Coaching is a fad, not a fashion; it is
not to be relied upon for steady custom; but automobiling bids
fair to carry the people once more into the country, and there
must be inns to receive them.
Already the proprietor was struggling with the problem what to do
with automobiles and what to do for them who drove them. He was
vainly endeavoring to reconcile the machines with horses and house
them under one roof; the experiment had already borne fruit in
some disaster and no little discomfort.
The automobile is quite willing to be left out-doors over night;
but if taken inside it is quite apt to assert itself rather
noisily and monopolize things to the discomfort of the horse.
Stables--to rob the horse of the name of his home--must be
provided, and these should be equipped for emergencies.
Every country inn should have on hand gasoline--this is easily
stored outside in a tank buried in the ground--and lubricating
oils for steam and gasoline machines; these can be kept and sold
in gallon cans.
In addition to supplies there should be some tools, beginning with
a good jack strong enough to lift the heaviest machine, a small
bench and vise, files, chisels, punches, and one or two large
wrenches, including a pipe-wrench. All these things can be
purchased for little more than a song, and when needed they are
needed badly. But gasoline and lubricating oils are absolutely
essential to the permanent prosperity of any well-conducted
wayside inn.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN RHODE ISLAND AND CONNECTICUT
CALLING THE FERRY
Next morning, Sunday the 8th, we left the inn at eleven o'clock
for Providence. It was a perfect morning, neither hot nor cold,
sun bright, and the air stirring.
We took the narrow road almost opposite the entrance to the inn,
climbed the hill, threaded the woods, and were soon travelling
almost due south through Framingham, Holliston, Medway, Franklin,
Here's a piece of wisdom on driving or cute car quote to study:
Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
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