In Wisconsin we met a most unique and charming couple, both past fifty, who had lived all over the world, even in South America, a Mr. X and wife, from Washington, D. C. They were going on the same route as we were, and back to Washington, via southern California, the Yosemite, New Mexico, New Orleans, and then north. So their trip would be twice as long as ours. They loved the open, with that two-ton-equipment enthusiasm excelling all others we had met. From an over-stocked medicine chest, so carefully stowed away that they bought what they wanted en route rather than unload everything to try to find it, to a complete wardrobe for every occasion, which was never unpacked, they had every conceivable utensil that a well-furnished apartment could boast of. They even bought a small puppy, as a protection at night when camping; the poor little beast caught cold and crawled under the pile and died. They solved the lunch problem in a unique way. If they passed a good corn-field, they “procured” a few ears and stopped at the next farmhouse and calmly asked the loan of the kitchen for a short time, and cooked their corn and bought bread and milk, etc. Mrs. X remarked: “It is all so simple! We have all these things in case we should need them, but they are so well packed in the car it is really too bad to disturb them; so I live in one gown, and we buy what we need, and it is _most_ satisfactory.” Later we learned that they had camped out just three nights in several weeks. But I have digressed, and left you at the Bedford Arms, one of the most artistic, attractive inns that we found. The little touches showed a woman’s hand. Flowers everywhere, dainty cretonnes, willow furniture, and pretty, fine china; in appearance, courtesy, and efficiency, the maids in the dining-room might have come from a private dwelling. Will someone tell me why there are not more such charming places to stop at on our much-traveled main highways. Why _must_ hotel men buy all the heavy, hideous furniture, the everlasting red or green carpets and impossible wall-paper, to make night hideous for their guests--to say nothing of the pictures on their walls? It is a wonder one can sleep.