INSCRIPTIONS ON INN WINDOW-PANES.
SHENSTONE’S, AT HENLEY.
Whoe’er has travelled life’s dull round,
Where’er his journeys may have been,
May sigh to think he still has found
His warmest welcome at an inn.
A gentleman who stopped at an inn at Stockport, in 1634, left this record of his bad reception on a window of the inn:—
If, traveller, good treatment be thy care,
A comfortable bed, and wholesome fare,
A modest bill, and a diverting host,
Neat maid, and ready waiter,—quit this coast.
If dirty doings please, at Stockport lie:
The girls, O frowsy frights, here with their mistress vie.
Yet Fynes Moryson, in his Itinerary, thus speaks of English inns in the olden time:—
As soon as a passenger comes to an inne, the servants run to him, and one takes his horse and walkes him about till he be cool, then rubs him down, and gives him meat; another servant gives the passenger his private chamber and kindles his fire; the third pulls off his bootes and makes them cleane; then the host and hostess visit him, and if he will eate with the hoste or at a common table with the others, his meale will cost him sixpence, or in some places fourpence; but if he will eate in his chamber, he commands what meat he will, according to his appetite; yea, the kitchen is open to him to order the meat to be dressed as he likes beste. After having eaten what he pleases, he may with credit set by a part for next day’s breakfast. His bill will then be written for him, and should he object to any charge, the host is ready to alter it.
“Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis!”
ON A WINDOW-PANE OF THE HOTEL SANS SOUCI, BADEN-BADEN.
Venez ici, sans souci. Vous
Partirez d’ici sans six sous.
THREE TRANSLATIONS WHICH FOLLOW.
You come to this city plumed with felicity,
You’ll flutter from this city plucked to mendicity.
With plenty of tin, purse-proud you come in.
You’ll go a sad ninkum from outgo of income!
Not a bit pensive, you come here expensive.
Soon you’ll go hence with a curse the expense.