As they came into the central and older part of the town, however, even John was forced to admit that it was "different," after all. Along Stratford's narrow, clean little streets stand many old houses adorned with great oak timbers, quaint inscriptions, and carvings; and quicker than all else, the sight of these, remaining here and there between the more modern structures, makes one feel the antiquity of the place. These houses totter a little, and lean their upper stories over the street,--perhaps with a kind of curiosity to see better the strange and more and more startling scenes which the centuries bring forth. For instance, what must these ancient houses, which perchance witnessed the passing of some splendid pageant of the "spacious times of Queen Elizabeth," think of the bustle and prosperous commercial air which the town has gradually taken on? What of the sight-seers whose automobiles go tearing along, uttering weird and frightful sounds? No wonder the old houses stand on tiptoe and bend farther and farther over the street in their amazement and horror! The young people were delighted with the odd little Red Horse Hotel. As it was market-day, the wide street before it was crowded with people, and down the middle was a row of queer, covered wagons, in which the farmers bring their produce, and which are used as stalls on arrival at the market-place. The little hotel is severely plain and square, and has a passage leading into an old-time court-yard. Inside, it has quaint little rooms filled with antique furniture, narrow corridors, and uneven floors, with here a step up, and there two steps down. Leaving their luggage in the rooms assigned to them, the party immediately set out for "the Birthplace," as all Stratford people invariably call the famous Shakespeare house on Henley Street. "Is that it!" gasped John, as they stood on the opposite side of the way and gazed across at the first home of the great Poet. "Why, I didn't suppose it was as big as that! And it doesn't look old a bit!" Shakespeare's birthplace has been too often pictured, and is far too familiar to all to need any description given it here. Perhaps it does seem rather larger than we imagined, and the outside certainly looks surprisingly strong and new. [Illustration: "WHY I DIDN'T SUPPOSE IT WAS AS BIG AS THAT!"--_Page 140._] "But you know it now belongs to the nation," Mrs. Pitt explained, "and is always kept in perfect condition. The last restoration was finished only about fifty or sixty years ago. Although the house was so completely renewed, the greatest care was used to make it look as nearly as possible as it did at the time of Shakespeare's birth in 1564. That window above the entrance, with the little diamond panes, is the original, and is in the room in which the Poet was born."