xtent of believing that
there is nothing harmful or indecent about an automobile, and let it
live in the coach-house like a respectable dog-cart or the orthodox
brougham, all would be well, and we should save our tempers and a
vast lot of gray matter in attempting to show a conservative landlord
how far he is behind the times.

One other very important demand the automobilist makes of the hotel,
and that is the possibility of being supplied with his coffee at any
time after five in the morning. The automobile tourist, not of the
butterfly order, is almost invariably an early bird.

Without question the Continental hotel of all ranks is vastly
superior to similar establishments in Britain. The inferiority of the
British inns may be due to tardiness and slothfulness on the part of
the landlords, or long suffering and non-complaining on the part of
their guests. It is either one or the other, or both, of these
reasons, but the fact is the hotel-keeper, and his establishment as
well, are each far inferior to those of Continental Europe.

Perhaps the real reason of the conservatism of the British
hotel-keeper is yet to be fathomed, but it probably starts from the
fact that he does not travel to learn. The young Swiss serves his
apprenticeship, and learns French, as a waiter at Nice, just as he
learns Italian at San Remo. Ten years later you may find him as the
manager of a big hotel at home. He has learned his business by hard,
disagreeable work. How many English hotel-keepers have imitated him?
Another cause of backwardness in England is the "license" system,
with its artificial augmentation of the value of all premises where
alcoholic refreshment is provided. This tends to make the landlord
look upon it as his chief, if not his sole, source of profit. Even if
he serves meals at a fair price, he looks to the accompanying, or
casual, drinks to pay him best. This results in indifferent and
slovenly food-catering. The public bar, with its foul-mouthed
loafers,--there seems to be an idea that one can talk in an English
tavern as one would not in an English street,--is often within
ear-shot of the dining-room. This is one of the great defects of the
English hotel system, in all but the largest towns, and even there it
is not wholly absent.

This is how the facts strike a foreigner, the Frenchman, the
Dutchman, the Belgian, and the German, whose hotels and restaurants
are, first of all, for quiet, ordinary guests, and only s