For these bungalows are for the most part designed without knowledge or taste, without regard to the tradition of English architecture or the claims of the English landscape. They are generally built of flimsy machine-made materials, largely imported from abroad. Yet they have satisfied a perfectly legitimate demand for accommodation, they have been erected honestly by builders and paid for by their owners, and they have so far complied with the laws of the land that they have earned a Government “subsidy” towards their cost. Hence the bungalow, which many of us regard as the motorist’s least acceptable gift to the countryside, constitutes a topic which must be criticised with extreme tact and caution. There must be many beauty-spots in England that have been spoilt by motorists and charabancs since the War, but as a fair case one may cite X---- in Romney Marsh. A few years ago this was an artists’ paradise and a haven of peace. It has now become a glorified bus-park, where one is surrounded by petrol-pumps, garages, blatant exorbitant cafés run by loud-voiced aliens, “souvenir” shops full of Brummagem and German products, ice-carts, and innumerable direction-posts to “ladies’ cloak rooms.” All the charm of the place has gone in bribes to the tripper, and when he tires of it the ugliness will remain. When one sees a beautiful village or landscape prostituted to such ends, one wishes that the petrol-engine had never been invented. But is ugliness an inevitable concomitant of motoring? Last April it was my good fortune to travel some 200 miles over the main roads of Tuscany. In that considerable distance I saw not a single petrol-station, and hardly a poster or a hoarding. The petrol-pumps must have been there, but at any rate they were not obtrusive enough to attract notice. Some people may say that the apparent absence of these accessories of civilisation furnishes an additional proof of Italian backwardness, others that the iron hand of Mussolini prevents progress; but to me, as a lover of Italy, it is a satisfaction that she has contrived to reconcile the legitimate needs of to-day with the beauty of her countryside. V THE FUTURE The first part of this little book described rural England as it existed in its unsullied perfection, the second part the regrettable changes due mainly to the use of coal and petrol, and now we have to consider what prospect there is of saving the best of the old and making the best of the new. If “Rusticus” desires to preserve the remainder of his heritage, he must adopt some bolder policy than that of gazing at the flowing stream. Nor will the tactics of Canute serve his purpose: the tide of “civilisation” will not stop for him. There is every indication that it will flow with undiminished velocity in the coming years.