to the southward. Much of the way this ran through narrow
byways and the country generally lacked interest. We passed through
Banbury, whose cross, famous in nursery rhyme, is only modern. At
Waddesdon we saw the most up-to-date and best ordered village we came
across in England, with a fine new hotel, the Five Arrows, glittering in
fresh paint. We learned that this village was built and practically
owned by Baron Rothschild, and just adjoining it was the estate which he
had laid out. The gentleman of whom we inquired courteously offered to
take us into the great park, and we learned that he was the head
landscape gardener. The palace is modern, of Gothic architecture, and
crowns an eminence in the park. It contains a picture gallery, with
examples of the works of many great masters, which is open to the public
on stated days of the week.

On reaching London, we found that our tour of the Midlands had covered a
little less than eight hundred miles, which shows how much that distance
means in Britain when measured in places of historic and literary
importance, of which we really visited only a few of those directly on
the route of our journey or lying easily adjacent to it.

VI

LONDON TO LAND'S END

The road from London to Southampton is one of the oldest in the Kingdom
and passes many places of historic interest. In early days this highway,
leading from one of the main seaports through the ancient Saxon capital,
was of great importance. Over this road we began the trip suggested by
the Touring Secretary of the Motor Union. As usual, we were late in
getting started and it was well after noon when we were clear of the
city. At Kingston-on-Thames, practically a suburb, filled with villas of
wealthy Londoners, we stopped for lunch at the Griffin Hotel, a fine old
inn whose antiquity was not considered sufficient to atone for bad
service, which was sometimes the case. Kingston has a history as ancient
as that of the capital itself. Its name is peculiar in that it was not
derived from King's Town, but from King's Stone; and at the town
crossing is the identical stone, so says tradition, upon which the Saxon
kings were crowned. It would seem to one that this historic bit of rock
would form a more fitting pedestal for the English coronation chair than
the old Scottish stone from Dunstafnage Castle.

After a short run from Kingston, we passed down High Street, Guildford,
which, a well qualified authority declares,