not smoke-laden or oppressed with grayness, but pure, bright, and buoyant, with the scent of the real country about it—an atmosphere that makes one suddenly realise that there is a pleasure in merely breathing!
HOME-BREWED ALE About two miles out we came to a little roadside inn having the sign of the "Three Horse-shoes" displayed in front. Why three horse-shoes? Four, one would imagine, would be the proper number. Here we observed a notice that the thirsty wayfarer could indulge in "Home-brewed Ale," rather a rare article in these days of tied houses, when large brewing firms buy up all the "publics" they can, so as to ensure the sale of their beer thereto, and no other. Now, it may be pure fancy on my part, for fancy counts for much, but in my opinion there is a special flavour and pleasing character about good home-brewed ale never to be found in that coming from the big commercial breweries.
A little farther on our road brought us to Little Stukeley, a rather picturesque village. Here, to the left of the way, stood a primitive old inn, with its sign let into the top of a projecting chimney-stack, an uncommon and curious place for a sign. In fact there were two signs, one above the other; the top one was of square stone carved in low relief to represent a swan with a chain round its body. The carving was all painted white (except the chain, which was black), and bore the initials in one corner of C. D. E., with the date 1676. Just below this, on a separate and oblong tablet, painted a leaden colour, was the carved representation of a fish—*
