would
every now and then run in there too. When you go away, they embrace ye,
and part with you with as much Affection, as if you were their own
Brothers, or near Kinsfolks.
_Bert._ This Mode perhaps may become the _French_, but methinks the Way
of the _Germans_ pleases me better, which is more manly.
_Will._ I never have seen _Germany_; therefore, pray don't think much to
tell how they entertain a Traveller.
_Bert._ I can't tell whether the Method of entertaining be the same
every where; but I'll tell you what I saw there. No Body bids a Guest
welcome, lest he should seem to court his Guests to come to him, for
that they look upon to be sordid and mean, and not becoming the German
Gravity. When you have called a good While at the Gate, at Length one
puts his Head out of the Stove Window (for they commonly live in Stoves
till Midsummer) like a Tortoise from under his Shell: Him you must ask
if you can have any Lodging there; if he does not say no, you may take
it for granted, that there is Room for you. When you ask where the
Stable is, he points to it; there you may curry your Horse as you please
yourself, for there is no Servant will put a Hand to it. If it be a
noted Inn, there is a Servant shews you the Stable, and a Place for your
Horse, but incommodious enough; for they keep the best Places for those
that shall come afterwards; especially for Noblemen. If you find Fault
with any Thing, they tell you presently, if you don't like, look for
another Inn. In their Cities, they allow Hay, but very unwillingly and
sparingly, and that is almost as dear as Oats. When you have taken Care
of your Horse, you come whole into the Stove, Boots, Baggage, Dirt and
all, for that is a common Room for all Comers.
_Will._ In _France_, they appoint you a separate Chamber, where you may
change your Cloaths, clean and warm your self, or take Rest if you have
a Mind to it.
_Bert._ There's nothing of that here. In the Stove, you pull off your
Boots, put on your Shoes, and if you will, change your Shirt, hang up
your wet Cloths near the Stove Iron, and get near it to dry yourself.
There's Water provided for you to wash your Hands, if you will; but as
for the Cleanness of it, it is for the most Part such that you will want
another Water to wash that off.
_Will._ I commend this Sort of People, that have nothing of Effeminacy
in them.
_Bert._ If you come in at four a-Clock in the Afternoon, you must not go
to Supper till nine,
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