66 THE SMELL OF ENGLAND 



head off," said my companion, and the poor driver 

 looked puzzled and hurt. 



Even at a distance from the town I received whiffs 

 of my mysterious scent, but it diminished the further 

 I went. Returning to the town it would again seem 

 universal and powerful, yet I could not find a native 

 of the place to tell me what it was. They did not 

 perceive it, they all told me, and I came to the con- 

 clusion that as they lived in it they had ceased to 

 smell it — that it was the smell of the place, of the 

 country, and I called it the Smell of England. 



Afterwards in London, then in Gloucestershire, and 

 later in Scotland, I almost lost sight or scent of the 

 Smell of England. Occasional whiffs came to my 

 nostrils, but I imagined I had, like the natives, lived 

 long enough in it to become unconscious of it. Then 

 after many months came the day when the mystery 

 was revealed. I was in London, walking thought- 

 fully up Oxford Street, when on approaching Totten- 

 ham Court Road a powerful gust of the now old 

 familiar smell came on me and brought back a vivid 

 memory of my first day in Southampton, when the 

 Smell of England was new to me. As I advanced 

 the gusts became frequent and increased in power, 

 until I was at the side of a big building from which 

 issued clouds of steam and hot air from a dozen 

 conduits, and dull rumbling noises of machinery. 

 The whole air had become a bath of the thick, 

 sweetish, warm, half-flowery and half-savoury smell. 

 And the building was a brewery, and the smell was 

 the smell of brewing! 



