The Flying Inn

BY GILBERT K. CHESTERTON
AUTHOR OF
"MANALIVE," "THE INNOCENCE OF FATHER BROWN," ETC.
NEW YORK JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMXIV
Copyright, 1914, by JOHN LANE COMPANY
First Printing, Jan., 1914 Second Printing, Feb., 1914
TO HUGH RIVIÈRE
* * *
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
A SERMON ON INNS II. THE END OF OLIVE ISLAND III. THE
SIGN OF "THE OLD SHIP" IV. THE INN FINDS WINGS V. THE
ASTONISHMENT OF THE AGENT VI. THE HOLE IN HEAVEN
VII. THE SOCIETY OF SIMPLE SOULS VIII. VOX POPULI VOX
DEI IX. THE HIGHER CRITICISM AND MR. HIBBS X. THE
CHARACTER OF QUOODLE XI. VEGETARIANISM IN THE
DRAWING-ROOM XII. VEGETARIANISM IN THE FOREST XIII.
THE BATTLE OF THE TUNNEL XIV. THE CREATURE THAT
MAN FORGETS XV. THE SONGS OF THE CAR CLUB XVI. THE
SEVEN MOODS OF DORIAN XVII. THE POET IN PARLIAMENT
XVIII. THE REPUBLIC OF PEACEWAYS XIX. THE
HOSPITALITY OF THE CAPTAIN XX. THE TURK AND THE
FUTURISTS XXI. THE ROAD TO ROUNDABOUT XXII. THE
CHEMISTRY OF MR. CROOKE XXIII. THE MARCH ON
IVYWOOD XXIV. THE ENIGMAS OF LADY JOAN XXV. THE

FINDING OF THE SUPERMAN
* * *
THE FLYING INN
* * *
CHAPTER I
A SERMON ON INNS
THE sea was a pale elfin green and the afternoon had already felt the
fairy touch of evening as a young woman with dark hair, dressed in a
crinkly copper-coloured sort of dress of the artistic order, was walking
rather listlessly along the parade of Pebblewick-on-Sea, trailing a
parasol and looking out upon the sea's horizon. She had a reason for
looking instinctively out at the sea-line; a reason that many young
women have had in the history of the world. But there was no sail in
sight.
On the beach below the parade were a succession of small crowds,
surrounding the usual orators of the seaside; whether niggers or
socialists, whether clowns or clergymen. Here would stand a man doing
something or other with paper boxes; and the holiday makers would
watch him for hours in the hope of some time knowing what it was that
he was doing with them. Next to him would be a man in a top hat with
a very big Bible and a very small wife, who stood silently beside him,
while he fought with his clenched fist against the heresy of Milnian
Sublapsarianism so wide-spread in fashionable watering-places. It was
not easy to follow him, he was so very much excited; but every now
and then the words "our Sublapsarian friends" would recur with a kind
of wailing sneer. Next was a young man talking of nobody knew what
(least of all himself), but apparently relying for public favour mainly on
having a ring of carrots round his hat. He had more money lying in
front of him than the others. Next were niggers. Next was a children's
service conducted by a man with a long neck who beat time with a little
wooden spade. Farther along there was an atheist, in a towering rage,

who pointed every now and then at the children's service and spoke of
Nature's fairest things being corrupted with the secrets of the Spanish
Inquisition--by the man with the little spade, of course. The atheist
(who wore a red rosette) was very withering to his own audience as
well. "Hypocrites!" he would say; and then they would throw him
money. "Dupes and dastards!" and then they would throw him more
money. But between the atheist and the children's service was a little
owlish man in a red fez, weakly waving a green gamp umbrella. His
face was brown and wrinkled like a walnut, his nose was of the sort we
associate with Judaea, his beard was the sort of black wedge we
associate rather with Persia. The young woman had never seen him
before; he was a new exhibit in the now familiar museum of cranks and
quacks. The young woman was one of those people in whom a real
sense of humour is always at issue with a certain temperamental
tendency to boredom or melancholia; and she lingered a moment, and
leaned on the rail to listen.
It was fully four minutes before she could understand a word the man
was saying; he spoke English with so extraordinary an accent that she
supposed at first that he was talking in his own oriental tongue. All the
noises of that articulation were odd; the most marked was an extreme
prolongation of the short "u" into "oo"; as in "poo-oot" for "put."
Gradually the girl got used to the dialect, and began to understand the
words; though some time elapsed even then before she could form any
conjecture of their subject matter. Eventually it appeared to her that he
had some fad about English civilisation having been founded by the
Turks; or,