Sunday and week-end which Richmond occupied in times when travelling was more difficult.  These changes are inevitable.  The “Ship” at Greenwich has gone, and Cabinet Ministers can no longer dine there.  The convalescent home, which was the undoing of certain Poplar Guardians, is housed in an hotel as famous as the “Ship,” in its days once the resort of Pitt and his bosom friends.  Indeed, a pathetic history might be written of the famous hostelries of the past.

Not far from Marlborough is Devizes, formerly a great coaching centre, and full of inns, of which the most noted is the “Bear,” still a thriving hostel, once the home of the great artist Sir Thomas Lawrence, whose father was the landlord.

[Illustration:  Courtyard of the George Inn, Norton St. Philip Somerset]

It is impossible within one chapter to record all the old inns of England, we have still a vast number left unchronicled, but perhaps a sufficient number of examples has been given of this important feature of vanishing England.  Some of these are old and crumbling, and may die of old age.  Others will fall a prey to licensing committees.  Some have been left high and dry, deserted by the stream of guests that flowed to them in the old coaching days.  Motor-cars have resuscitated some and brought prosperity and life to the old guest-haunted chambers.  We cannot dwell on the curious signs that greet us as we travel along the old highways, or strive to interpret their origin and meaning.  We are rather fond in Berkshire of the “Five Alls,” the interpretation of which is cryptic.  The Five Alls are, if I remember right—­

        “I rule all” [the king]. 
        “I pray for all” [the bishop]. 
        “I plead for all” [the barrister]. 
        “I fight for all” [the soldier]. 
        “I pay for all” [the farmer].

One of the most humorous inn signs is “The Man Loaded with Mischief,” which is found about a mile from Cambridge, on the Madingley road.  The original Mischief was designed by Hogarth for a public-house in Oxford Street.  It is needless to say that the signboard, and even the name, have long ago disappeared from the busy London thoroughfare, but the quaint device must have been extensively copied by country sign-painters.  There is a “Mischief” at Wallingford, and a “Load of Mischief” at Norwich, and another at Blewbury.  The inn on the Madingley road exhibits the sign in its original form.  Though the colours are much faded from exposure to the weather, traces of Hogarthian humour can be detected.  A man is staggering under the weight of a woman, who is on his back.  She is holding a glass of gin in her hand; a chain and padlock are round the man’s neck, labelled “Wedlock.”  On the right-hand side is the shop of “S.  Gripe, Pawnbroker,” and a carpenter is just going in to pledge his tools.

[Illustration:  “The Dark Lantern” Inn, Aylesbury 16 Aug 1902]