A wondrous sketchbook from a year spent in the south of France—an artist's personal journal carried everywhere and crammed with drawings and notions and thoughts surprising and whimsical.
I am the proprietress of a colonial tavern in Delaware established in 1825. The early taverns were not opened wholly for the convenience of travelers; they were for the comfort of the townspeople, for the interchange of news and opinions, the sale of solacing liquors, and the incidental sociability; in fact, the importance of the tavern to its local neighbors was far greater than to travelers.
No comments:
Post a Comment