"NOT FOR SALE?"

Evening Post, Volume LXXXIX, Issue 7, 9 January 1915, Page 11

"NOT FOR SALE?"

A REBUFF FOR MOTORING MONEY PLEASANT WELSH PICTURE. I turned back. I could not fly or ride; neither could I walk far enough really Jo taste that country northward, the angry sea of bare mountains, waves behind waves, greater and lesser, which tha sun, out of the one window a>nong the clouds, seemed to be counting, for a pale band of light fell upon now one and now another. I should like to have ridden on ov«r them for a day and a night, and since that was impossible, I turned back and went down (writes Edward Thomas in the Westminster Gazette). It was tha time when the brown bent stalks- of the foxgloves were tipped with their last flowers. Up there I had only swallows about me, but as I went rapidly down I came to where the grass was dotted by very white sheep; then to the grey ruins of a cottage, and another, and another, each one watched over by an ash tree ; and so to the brook. And at length a road crossed the brook, and by the bridge stood the Red Lion, with one aspen beaide it. The inn had a plain stone, front and a simple pillared porch; the tree was tall and beautiful, though trimmed far up, almost to its triple fork. Thus the inn suffered no shadow. In fact, at that moment the sun shone full into the porch and upon the collie asleep upon the step. The river and the bridge, the tree and the inn, at the edge of that village under the mountains, were worthy of a more heroic arrival. However, I stepped over the dog and entered the cool taproom. It was silent, except for the aspen shaking. It was empty. I seemed to have come too late, years, perhaps centuries, too lateA WHIFF OF OLD TIMES. The- worn was floored with slabs of slate, rough and smooth, and so largo that about a dozen of them covered the whole. At the end opposite the door was an. open fireplace of raised aton« under a long low beam. The hearth had been supplanted, a huge iron plate embossed with a figure of Michael the Arch- m angel, winged and very majestical, blow- - ing an up-lifted trumpet. The brick oven had been converted into a cupboard. An oak bench jutted out on either aid© of the grate, but no fixe was burning. A long table and a long bench, ttood under tha windows, several pots of fuchsias on the aills. The wall opposite had a door leading into tho bax, and above the door and along the whole length of the wall, two shelves holding scores of many coloured jugs of plain and fantastic shapes. Tho bare epace under them was adorned by an* advertisement of Allsopp and a picture of about a. thousand Welsh bards. Next to the door where I had entered was ft vast dresser, and tier above tier, of pale willow-pattern platea and odd jugs of aU shapes, sizes, and colours. A grandfather's clock was atill ticking in ft corner and showing * quarter to three; » sewing-machine oalancod it on tho other side of the fireplace. A brass lamp hung from the. centre of the ceiling, sur-< rounded by hams. ' HISTORIC LOOK. In short, the room had. the look of an historic room, such -asi an Academic ■dan uses for the scene of Alfred and; the Cakes or King John isigning the Charter; and a& nobody appeared I did not disturb the silence. After glancing at the Welsh bards, I sat down by the window and looked out up at the hills whence I had come. But not many minutes passed before a. motor car etop. ped by the aspen. Tho gentleman driving it cam© in loudly and was soon asking for a bottle of Bass and a fetone gingexbeer. A girl had transpired from somewhere. While she wae getting the drinks, the gentleman stared about him loudly. He was, for » motorist, benevolent looking, end although he must have been very rich, had remarkably few teeth and no hair. His loudness' was the effect of his large boots and awkward" legs, which, hi fact, can have served no purpose except as opportunities to use those large boots. A BEAMING MOTORIST. Evidently he liked the room; above all, the hams. He beamed about them. He beamed to the girl as he said he would like to buy on© of the hams. " I am sonry, sir," she said, in a pretty aocent of Welsh mixed with Cockney, and showing large, bright teeth, "but these are for our own, use." He fetched in the lady to help him. H© pointed with pride to his discovery, and she agreed with him. But when he asked again he gob the same answer. Whereupon the lady, who was scarcely benevolent at all, even through her veil, said to the girl, " Oh, nonsense, I wish you would ask." The girl strummed a little on the trays boForei answering, " I am sorry, but the hams are ours." " And you won't sell them?" "I can't. They are aU our own pigs, and we haven't any to spare even for our friends." " But don't you think you could persuade your husband? I am sure he won't refuse you anything." This was tho gentleman's stroke. She put down the tray and folded her arms, but not for long. For while the gentleman, was finishing his glass and the lady examining the willowpattern, a carter called for a pint, and I for mine ; and hostess and carter began talking in Wehih ; and the motorists departed. THE PATRONISING TOURIST. "Those hams," said I after the carter had gone out, "look better up there, missus, than in a motor-car.' She laughed. "We have a lot to put up with from that class of person, Tiiey think they do us a favour by paying for what they drink, and they expect favours *n return. If they have a horse shod at the smithy, now and then, they expect the blacksmith to put big hands under his apron and admire their children, blowing away his fire and mislaying his tools, so long as they have nothing better to do. Be- j cause the blacksmith is patient they j think be likes it. I am civil when they press me for a favour, but they don't think so. But there, these rich people | that get about don't understand anything but money. They are a lot of children, and they think the people are, too. You wouldn't" catch them doing that sort of thing in London. But they are on their holidays, and they think wo are all in a picture book, like the old dog out on the step." Perhaps I laughed oxcesßively. and made her feel that she had been talking too much. For with "This will never do for me," she disappeared through tho bar, and again I heard the aspen shaking. So I slipped out over the collie and set forth again, with my back to the mountains, DISORDERED LIVER. "For disorders of the liver and stomach there is no better medicine than Chamberlain's Tablets," writes Mrs. Margaret J. Watson, Emerald, Q. "I suffered with bad headaches, caused by a disordered liver. Hearing my customers speak so highly of Chamberlain's Tablets, I thought I would try what they would do for me. After the first few doses I noticed an improvement, and after I had taken a couple of boxes found myself quite relieved of headache*, which have not returned,"— Advt,,

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