Already the proprietor was struggling with the problem what to do with automobiles and what to do for them who drove them.  He was vainly endeavoring to reconcile the machines with horses and house them under one roof; the experiment had already borne fruit in some disaster and no little discomfort.

The automobile is quite willing to be left out-doors over night; but if taken inside it is quite apt to assert itself rather noisily and monopolize things to the discomfort of the horse.  Stables—­to rob the horse of the name of his home—­must be provided, and these should be equipped for emergencies.

Every country inn should have on hand gasoline—­this is easily stored outside in a tank buried in the ground—­and lubricating oils for steam and gasoline machines; these can be kept and sold in gallon cans.

In addition to supplies there should be some tools, beginning with a good jack strong enough to lift the heaviest machine, a small bench and vise, files, chisels, punches, and one or two large wrenches, including a pipe-wrench.  All these things can be purchased for little more than a song, and when needed they are needed badly.  But gasoline and lubricating oils are absolutely essential to the permanent prosperity of any well-conducted wayside inn.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN RHODE ISLAND AND CONNECTICUT CALLING THE FERRY

Next morning, Sunday the 8th, we left the inn at eleven o’clock for Providence.  It was a perfect morning, neither hot nor cold, sun bright, and the air stirring.

We took the narrow road almost opposite the entrance to the inn, climbed the hill, threaded the woods, and were soon travelling almost due south through Framingham, Holliston, Medway, Franklin, and West Wrentham towards Pawtucket.

That route is direct, the roads are good, the country rolling and interesting.  The villages come in close succession; there are many quaint places and beautiful homes.

In this section of Massachusetts it does not matter much what roads are selected, they are all good.  Some are macadamized, more are gravelled, and where there is neither macadam nor gravel, the roads have been so carefully thrown up that they are good; we found no bad places at all, no deep sand, and no rough, hard blue clay.

When we stopped for luncheon at a little village not far from Pawtucket, the tire which had been put on in Boston was leaking badly.  It was the tire that had been punctured and sent to the factory for repairs, and the repair proved defective.  We managed to get to Pawtucket, and there tried to stop the leak with liquid preparations, but by the time we reached Providence the tire was again flat and—­as it proved afterwards—­ruined.

Had it not been for the tire, Narragansett Pier would have been made that afternoon with ease; but there was nothing to do but wire for a new tire and await its arrival.