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THIS ENGLAND

COUNTRYSIDE RESEMBLES HUGE PARK SOFTLY CURVED AND HILLY ROADS. MELLOW CITIES AND TOWNS. To be accurate, the English countryside is not like the “country” we are accustomed to. Rather does it resemble a huge park, immaculately kept, and pierced by marvellous softly curved and hilly roads. Here and there are dotted mellow cities and towns with curious gabled houses and criss-cross streets of rare charm, states Elizabeth Pink, in a recent article in the "Sydney Morning Herald.” Sometimes in this fascinating setting a beautiful Gothic cathedral juts a spire into the sky; sometimes rolling moors and old grey castles with gardens of lush greenness emerge. And in spring the whole landscape is aglow with bluebells which, so far as I know, do not grow on the Continent. Ancient inns, scattered everywhere, were a source of special attraction both to English people and foreigners, mosfly Americans, before the war. Now children from the coastal areas and French poilus are enjoying their beauty, and that hospitable “atmosphere” which is so strongly suggestive of gentility and tradition. A hand-painted signboard set into a beaten iron frame advertises the “Lyons Arms,” a large hostelry built in Tudor style. A hall where a fire is kept blazing all day and till late in the evening; authentic period furniture; a lovely inlaid parquet floor shining like a mirror; and long red pointed candles in iron candlesticks are the highlights of the “Lyons Arms.” For myself, I could not resist trying to blow one of the copper posthorns. It sounded as I imagine the archangel Gabriel’s trumpet would blast! In a corner stood a row of clay pipes in an iron frame. Once upon a time this frame was put in front of. the fire so that the nicotine in the pipes could be burned out. Though you looked in vain for modern comfort, though the staircase leading to the guest rooms was narrow and steep, and running hot water was certainly not to be found in every bedroom, spaciousness and perfection of furnishing made each visitor feel at home at once. The waxed floor breathed cleanliness, and the huge soft beds were impregnated with a faint smell of old lavender like a chest of drawers in grandmothers time. And, of course, a guest from overseas was given, if at all possible, one of several rooms which in the course of three centuries have sheltered statesmen, poets, and painters of renown (though this was one place at least in which Queen Elizabeth did not sleep). Whereas the front looks over the street, the back leads into a charming wall garden, as old as the house, and as well kept. Here are lawns (unbelievably green), vivid flowers, and shrubs. Roses are in bloom until Christmas. “THE SHIP” AND THE “STAR. Though the table in the dining-room might not be laid with any of the lovely old china that one could glimpse in a glass case by the wall, ale is still poured from big pewter jugs that were used for the same purpose two hundred years ago. And despite its profusion of old furniture, the inn by no means hinted that it was a museum piece—everything that belonged to the past seemed to harmonise with the needs o the present. Before the war. young people m sportive cars delighted to “explore” tne English countryside. They waxed enthusiastic, for example, about the ageold thatched “Ship Inn,” where in a corner by the fireplace the poet Southey wrote some of the poems that glorified his beloved England. They also knew of the “Star" in Alfriston built in the sixtenth century. . The entrance door of the "Star inn is guarded by a huge lion, carved from the wood of a Dutch ship wrecked long ago on the coast of Sussex. , The "White Swan” in Shakespeare f Stratford-on-Avon, has its upper part adorned with exquisite woodwork. 1. was naturally one of the best-known rural attractions. Buses from London used to pour out admiring masse; every Sunday—crowds who spoiled Lie scene for persons who did not share the herd instinct. . Before the great migration Irom i.ie country to London, many a rural town was a centre of gay social life. Tne elegant Adam ballroom in the "Lion a< Shrewsbury, for instance, was once the frame of festivals and “routs m the early Georgian times. One little inn by a roadside <1 haw forgotten its name) still keeps the old mahogany glass showcase which solved as a plastic and impressive ‘ menu card” in years gone by. Travellers bj express coach were able to see n once what they could order and dicl not have to waste one minute of the 15 that were needed to change the horses. , ~, . In such quaint hostelrips hidden away in many a remote village, the century-old tradition of simple beauty and excellent fare stoutly preserved. In them one sees the English spirit is at its best, and happiest.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAITA19400724.2.76

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Wairarapa Times-Age, 24 July 1940, Page 6

Word count
Tapeke kupu
821

THIS ENGLAND Wairarapa Times-Age, 24 July 1940, Page 6

THIS ENGLAND Wairarapa Times-Age, 24 July 1940, Page 6

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