Next morning early I took leave of "mine hostess," who in the good old-fashioned manner of an earlier day, possibly a tradition of the house, came to the door to see me off, thanked me for my small custom, and wished me a pleasant journey--moreover, wished me it in a manner so hearty that showed she meant it. How pleasant these little civilities are; how they cheer the traveller on his way; how they oil the wheels of life so that they run smoothly, and yet they cost the bestower nothing! Alas, people nowadays do not seem to appreciate an article that can be had--for nothing! I like a smile of welcome when I arrive a stranger at a strange inn, though in truth I do not always get it--I expect I have to pay the penalty of many a grumpy traveller (how I despise him)--but this I will say, I seldom leave "mine inn" without the landlord or landlady, as the case may be, coming to see me off, and that with some gracious added remark or another; it is pleasant to part thus. I pay my reckonings, of course--I could not do otherwise--still, there was hardly an inn on the road, not one, in fact, but somehow I felt, on leaving it, I had received something more, and more valued, in the shape of thoughtful attentions and kind words, than what was set down on the bill. In truth, my bill mostly seemed to me more an accidental incident of my stay than a charge for accommodation and services rendered, and I fancy--it may be even more than fancy--that a gracious guest most times finds his reckoning on a modest scale. So, take it on the lowest, meanest standard, civility pays. I well remember when at an old country coaching inn--where I stayed for over a week, so pleasant a resting-place I found it, so pleased was I with mine host, mine hostess, and my surroundings--one day a coaching party on a hired coach arrived there, who blustered and fumed and gave themselves so many airs, and ordered the landlord about in so would-be a lordly manner as to make me ashamed of them, so much so that on their departure I went up to the landlord, a good sort if ever there was one, and heartily sympathised with him. I thought to ease his mind. "Bless you, sir," said he, "they didn't trouble me one bit; I saw they weren't gentle-folks; I charged them in the bill for their incivility."