"Shall I not take mine ease at mine inn?" In dealing with the Old Inns of England, one is first met with the great difficulty of classification, and lastly with the greater of coming to a conclusion. There are-let us be thankful for it-so many fine old inns. Some of the finest lend themselves to no ready method of classifying. Although they have existed through historic times, they are not historic, and they have no literary associations: they are simply beautiful and comfortable in the old-world way, which is a way a great deal more keenly appreciated than may commonly be supposed in these times. Let those who will flock to Metropoles and other barracks whose very names are evidence of their exotic style; but give me the old inns with such signs as the "Lygon Arms," the "Feathers," the "Peacock," and the like, which you still find-not in the crowded resorts of the seaside, or in great cities, but in the old English country towns and districts frequented by the appreciative few.