e had to put up at the first place that
offered itself. A proposition to stop at one of the so-called inns along
the road was received with alarm by the good woman who attended the
bar. She could not possibly care for us and she was loud in her praises
of the Saracen's Head at Cerrig-y-Druidion, only a little farther on,
which she represented as a particular haven for motorists.

The appearance of our car with its rapidly vibrating engine and glaring
headlights before the Saracen's Head created considerable commotion
among the large family of the host and the numerous guests, who, like
Tam-O'-Shanter, were snug and cozy by their inglenook while the storm
was raging outside. However, the proprietor was equal to the occasion
and told me that he had just come from Liverpool to take charge of the
inn and that he hoped to have the patronage of motorists. With
commendable enterprise he had fitted up a portion of his barn and had
labeled it "Motor Garage" in huge letters. The stable man was also
excited over the occasion, and I am sure that our car was the first to
occupy the newly created garage, which had no doubt been cut off from
the cow-stable at a very recent date.

The shelter of the Saracen's Head was timely and grateful none the less,
and no one could have been kindlier or more attentive than our hostess.
We had a nicely served lunch in the hotel parlor, which was just across
the hallway from the lounging room, where the villagers assembled to
indulge in such moderate drinking as Welshmen are addicted to. The
public room was a fine old apartment with open-beamed ceiling--not the
sham with which we decorate our modern houses, but real open beams that
supported the floor--and one end of the room was occupied by a great
open fireplace with old-time spits and swinging cranes. Overhead was
hung a supply of hams and bacon and on iron hooks above the door were
suspended several dressed fowls, on the theory that these improve with
age. We were given a small but clean and neat apartment, from which I
suspicion the younger members of the landlord's family had been
unceremoniously ousted to make room for us. The distressing feature was
the abominable beds, but as these prevailed in most of the country
hotels at which we stopped we shall not lay this up too strongly against
the Saracen's Head. I noticed that on one of the window-panes someone
had scribbled with a diamond, "Sept. 4, 1726," which would seem to
indicate that the or