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 take their ease; not that they needed much pressing to do so, for did not the worthy Dr. Johnson, when posting across country, frequently exclaim, "Here is an inn; let us rest awhile"? But that was in the leisurely days gone by when mortals had more time to call their own. I have often wondered, could he be conjured back to life again, what the worthy doctor would think of present-time ways, what he would say of the railways, but above all, what his opinion would be of the huge company hotel, where he would find his individuality merged in a mere number. I trow he would prefer his comfortable tavern, where he could have his quiet talk—and listeners.

I find, by referring to some ancient and valued road-books in my possession, that the two chief inns of the coaching age at Barnet were the "Red Lion" and the "Green Man," each patronised by rival coaches. The latter sign I imagine, judging from the frequent mention of it in the same authorities, to have been at the period a very common and popular one, though now apparently gone entirely out of favour. What was the origin of this strange sign I cannot say, but it may be remembered that green men—that is, men with their faces, arms, and hands stained that hue, and their bodies covered with skins—were frequently to be found amongst the processions and pageants of the sight-loving Middle Ages, such a "get-up" being intended to represent a savage, and constant mention of them was made in the old writings and plays. In the play of ''The Cobblers Prophecy'' (1594) one of the characters is