This spontaneity , this sudden method without rules and regulations , letters , telegrams and references , struck the officials into gaping speechlessness , until a bright underling announced that he had seen a caravan at a farm down the road , and away I went in search of this hopeful lieu .sx I soon came to one of those odd , untidy pieces of ground on which gipsy people manage to settle .sx There was no tenant to be seen , but only an amazing mess of old iron , and mud , and wheelless carts and cartless wheels , tins , boxes , chickens and improvised fireplaces .sx Doubtless it explained the surly manner of the first farmer , and possibly of the second one , too , a good mile on the way .sx He was a miserable , wizened , miserly fellow , who surveyed me suspiciously , asked what I had to sell , and came out into the road to inspect the vehicle .sx That settled him .sx He decided with alacrity that all his fields were occupied with stock .sx And it decided me , too .sx I had had quite enough of this polite asking and being passed on , and I pulled the truck up a by-lane , hoping that the police would not come along and shift me just as I was falling asleep .sx A very uncomfortable evening , and very provoking that I , the most harmless idiot on earth , should be treated as an undesirable .sx And for the next day it was the same wandering along the level road over the plain .sx A heavenly English road with broad grass verges not yet stolen by motorists , and immense trees of oak and elm , each a miracle of interlacing boughs and compacts of leaves , bright beings against a radiant sky .sx The immaculate wild rose was there in profusion , and campions and clovers in the grass .sx A carter hauled the truck up a bit of a hill , and I sheltered from rain under a bush in company with a workman , who described to me how he had to get up in the middle of the night sometimes and wander off among the fields , or tramp the roads in the dark simply because he felt that he wanted to .sx He liked best to walk by the river in the dark .sx But anywhere would do if he could get a road or some grass beneath his feet .sx It was a thrill in the afternoon to sight through the trees the distant towers of York Minster , which , all those miles away and only a dot on the landscape , were yet impressive with dignity and grandeur .sx Then came the silly bungalows , the petrol stations , and the vulgar omnibuses , and I turned to a by-road for Hesleton , hoping to find a pitch on the outskirts of York .sx And I nearly pitched under a ruined windmill , but the boss , whose permission was necessary , had gone off to buy a cow and his " missus " couldn't say , so I got directions from a cattle drover , walked through Heseltine to the policeman's new house , and turning up the lane there pitched the tent on a tennis lawn .sx at the farm under the groves of ash trees .sx There were two villages very convenient for a performance , but I was so amazed to see the farmer's prize pigs enjoying their daily wash that I quite forgot the little matter of collecting up some pennies .sx XI .sx IN THE CITY OF YORK .sx I WENT into York for the purpose of collecting letters , and transacting various affairs , and also with the idea that , in between posting the letters and buying sixpenn'orth of cheese , I might see something of the old city .sx Oh , horrible flippancy , and shameful ignorance !sx What abasement for thee , 0 showman , to be confronted here with greater matter than thou could'st ever understand in all thy life !sx It was , of course , a mistake to enter the place without the show .sx I was unarmed , unprotected by the accustomed shell , and York picked me up and transformed me into a tourist unhesitatingly , collecting sixpences and shillings off me in a very expert manner .sx As everyone must know York is a sort of open-air museum , and if I were an American magnate I would buy it , set it up in the garden , and on fine mornings have a band playing , and investigate those charming narrow streets at leisure .sx Only of course there are no streets - they are all " gates " - Micklegate , Skeldergate , Monkgate , Goodramgate , Jubbergate , names which make a sort of poem of the olden days , and fill the imagination with a pageantry of Ancient Britons , Romans , Saxons and Normans who have all contributed to these stones .sx You take your morning coffee in a Tudor cafe , and buy your fruit tarts from a wooden-framed house and feel like Hansel and Gretel in the fairy tale .sx A prosaic half-pound of cheese is discovered in a witches' cottage , a leaning , drunken affair with overhanging stories .sx You tumble down some steps into a low , dark shop for a paper , and are reminded of Queen Elizabeth as you buy some socks .sx And so you shop and wander , with a jumble of red roofs at every corner , and old grey stones at every step .sx Then you emerge suddenly into the wide and open Duncombe Place , and before you is the great Minster , grey and ethereal like a vision , rising tremendously , with an irresistible power of grandeur and grave dignity above all this clamour of picture postcards and old brass .sx You gaze at these solid stones soaring lightly heavenwards , and say to yourself it is immense , without knowing quite what you are talking about .sx You wander round the extraordinary pile , marvelling at the towers , the buttresses , the pinnacles , and the carvings which compose without one single discordant note this gigantic symphony of stone .sx From the streets , and the lawns under the trees in the Minster grounds , you take your survey , until you notice all the little black people , who leap out of the arriving charabancs , and rush immediately up the steps to disappear , like so many ants , into the little door under the great arch .sx It is sacrilege , of course , to enter this temple without first confessing all your sins , and dedicating the rest of your life to holiness and loveliness .sx Surely , some vestment is called for , to put off the shoes or hide one's reach-me-downs in some flowing silk of red and gold ;but in you go , helter-skelter , with the motley crowd .sx You follow the verger , and listen to far-away dates and ancient names ; you forget the guide in a sudden enthusiasm for the pure and stately lines of stone , or out of the general immensity you discover a surprisingly live , medieval stone figure actually smiling at you .sx You come back to the verger and wander over spacious floors under the high roofs .sx Virtue begins to steal upon you as you traverse the aisles , the nave , and the transepts , and then we all clatter into the choir , and hear of the stained glass and how the secrets of its good colour are lost .sx And so we go on , in our blatant machine-made clothing and our conceited modernness , gaping at this wonder of art and handicraft .sx There was a foreign gentleman in our party who , not always understanding the verger , would repeatedly put his hand behind his ear and say anxiously , " Vot's dat ?sx Vot's dat ?sx " The bright ladies were amused , and the young people nudged one another and giggled ; and there was a fat , jovial fellow who winked at me whenever this occurred .sx It was , of course , amusing , and after all perhaps our childish behaviour only served , by contrast , to add a greater dignity and solemnity to the edifice .sx And yet it is hardly good enough ; we should be marched round with music and the singing of anthems .sx Heaven help us !sx If we cannot build churches like it nowadays , but only look at the work of our backward and ignorant ancestors , surely there might be a little more ceremony about it than the guide-book and the little camera .sx It was a painful descent to come out of the great cathedral into the trafficking of the modern world , to .sx light upon the feeble etchings , the washy watercolours , and smudgy picture postcards of this powerful structure .sx I hesitate to confess to what low depths I descended , to lunching to the hurdy-gurdy strains of canned music , and eating tinned fruits , and sucking the machine-made cigarettes which did not draw at all well .sx And through it all I was haunted by the hand-made work of our unscientific ancestors whom we look upon as a species of ignorant children .sx And yet they had the power to raise this perfect and glorious building , all rightly and strongly built , in every part stately and beautiful , a miracle of unadulterated loveliness .sx There is no end to archaeological York , and on top of it all there is William Etty , R.A. , and the Fine Art Exhibition .sx A cerebral dizziness was soon the most apparent thing in the city , until I came upon the city walls and found there a powerful and sustaining influence .sx They were deserted ; all the world was down in Vanity Fair , and I walked alone on the silvergrey stones , all rounded and softened with the weathering of years .sx Here was no artistic effort , and yet , on that Saturday afternoon , in the midst of the seething town , the walls stood out with austere , aesthetic beauty .sx The builders had set their mark upon it - it was all firmness and justice , a direct and deliberate going to the sturdy heart of the job .sx Below the walls lies the town , the railway station , the sidings , gaunt factories , and untidy workshops , not very fair to see ; and the old white walls weave their way through it all like a gleaming thread of virtuous and honest work .sx The combination of being a tourist and countryman in the uncustomary excitement of the city was curiously exhausting .sx I saw the sights , feasted , and was jostled about in the jolly , crowded streets until cerebrospinal weakness set in , and I escaped from the tyrannical beauty of York by way of tram to Fulford , and walked along the road to the camp .sx What a relief it was to get back into the country , to walk under the gracious trees , radiant with sunset , and to breathe the quantities of air , fragrant with the new mown swathes of grass .sx York is old , but this country and the fresh air were older still .sx The city is instructive if it makes plain to us that human activities are getting exceedingly ugly , but when I got back to the farm we all agreed together , as good countrymen , that it was a tiresome business having to visit the town .sx The farmer had some children , as well I know , for the youngest of them patted my tent affectionately with a sharp tent-peg and delighted himself by making a hole in it - an accident which kept me busy patching all the Sunday morning .sx But , as to the children , father announced that they wanted to see the show , and asked if they could have a " do " in the afternoon .sx Of course , it was but a thin excuse putting it on the children the farmer was dying to see a performance himself , and having a telephone he soon called up various relations and friends , who all promised to come across the fields to the farm .sx In consequence I lunched with the family , and felt very civilised with my legs under a table , a china plate before me , and father , in his shirt sleeves , carving an enormous joint at the end of the table .sx " Eh ?sx tha' woan't tak' any sparrib ?sx Weel , tha's a reet to do as tha' likes .sx Give him plenty of pudden , ma .sx " The farmer pointed from the pudding to my plate with the carving knife , and that was all his comment upon vegetarianism , a very practical comment , and I received sufficient Yorkshire pudding to nourish me for a week .sx It was so good that I ate it all , and being unwary enough to praise it soon found an enthusiastic second cut on the plate .sx It was not so very difficult to eat too much of a pudding so good , but for a mere southerner I considered that I had done extremely well .sx Ah , how excellent is this golden Yorkshire pudding when discovered in its native state !sx