You Should Worry Says John Henry Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  YOU SHOULD WORRY ABOUT AN AUTOMOBILE

  Say! did you ever have to leave the soothing influence of your ownrattling radiators in the Big City and go romping off to a richrelation's for the week-end?

  Well, don't do it, if you can help it, and if you can't help it get backhome as soon as possible.

  When Uncle Gilbert Hawley sent us an invitation to run up toHawleysville for a day or two I looked at Peaches and she looked atme--then we both looked out the window.

  We knew what a wildly hilarious time we'd have splashing out small talkto the collection of human bric-a-brac always to be found at UncleGilbert's, but what is one going to do when the richest old gink in thefamily waves a beckoning arm?

  I'll tell you what one is going to do--one is going to take to one'so'sullivans, beat it rapidly to a choo-choo, and float into UncleGilbert's presence with a business of being tickled to death--that'swhat one is going to do.

  You know Nature has a few immutable laws, and one is that even a richold uncle must in the full course of time pass on and leave nephews andnieces. Leave them what? Ah! that's it! Where's that timetable?

  Hawleysville is about forty miles away on the P. D. & Q., and it is someburg. Uncle Gilbert wrote it all himself.

  Uncle Gilbert has nearly all the money there is in the world. Every timehe signs a check a national bank goes out of existence. He tried tocount it all once, but he sprained his wrists and had to stop.

  On the level, when he goes into a bank all the government bonds get upand yell, "Hello, Papa!"

  When he cuts coupons it's like a sheep shearing.

  He has muscles all over him like a prizefighter just from liftingmortgages.

  When Peaches and I finally reached the Hawley mansion on the hill wefound there a scene of great excitement. Old and distant relations werebustling up and down the stone steps, talking in whispers; servants withscared faces and popping eyes were peeping around the corner of thehouse, and in the roadway in front of a sobbing automobile stood UncleGilbert and Aunt Miranda, made up to look like two members of the Pearyexpedition at the Pole.

  After the formal greetings we were soon put hep to the facts in thecase.

  "You see, John," bubbled Aunt Miranda, while a pair of green gogglesdanced an accompaniment on her nose, "your Uncle Gilbert loaned themoney to a man to open a garage in Hawleysville. But automobilistsnever got any blowouts or punctures going through here because thereisn't a saloon in the town, so the garage failed and the man left townin an awful hurry, and all your Uncle Gilbert got for the money heloaned was this car. We've been four years making up our minds to buyone and now we have one whether we want it or not."

  "Fine!" I said; "going out for a spin, Uncle Gilbert?"

  "Possibly," he answered, never taking his eyes off the man-killer infront of him, which stood there trembling with anger.

  "What car is it?" I inquired politely.

  "It's a Seismic," Uncle Gilbert said.

  "Oh, yes, of course; made by the Earthquake Brothers inPowderville--good car for the hills, especially coming down," Ivolunteered. "Know how to run it?"

  "I guess so; I was always a good hand at machinery," Uncle Gilbertanswered.

  "Don't you think you should have a chauffeur?" Peaches suggested.

  "Chauffeur! Why?" Uncle Gilbert snapped back; "what do I want with oneof those fellows sitting around, eating me out of house and home."

  Now you know why he has so much money.

  "We'll be back in a little while," Aunt Miranda explained; "just makeyourselves at home, children."

  Uncle Gilbert continued to eye the car for another minute, then heturned to me and said, "Want to try it, John?"

  "Nix, Uncle Gilbert," I protested; "what would the townspeople say? Youwith a new motor car, afraid to run it yourself, had to send to New Yorkfor your nephew--nix! Where's your family pride?"

  "My family pride is all right," answered Uncle Gilbert; "but there's alot of contraptions in that machine I don't seem to recognize."

  "Oh, that's all right; you're a handy little guy with machinery," Ireminded him. "Hop in now and break forth. Don't let the public thinkthat you're afraid to blow a Bubble through the streets of your nativetown. The rubber sweater buttoned to the chin and the Dutch awning overthe forehead for yours, and on your way!"

  Finally and reluctantly Uncle Gilbert and Aunt Miranda climbed into thekerosene wagon and I gave him his final instructions.

  "Now, Uncle Gilbert," I said, "grab that wheel in front of you firmlywith both hands and put one foot on the accelerator. Now put the otherfoot on the rheostat and let the left elbow gently rest on thedeodorizer. Keep the rubber tube connecting with the automatic fogwhistle closely between the teeth and let the right elbow be in touchwith the quadruplex while the apex of the left knee is pressed over thespark coil and the right ankle works the condenser."

  Uncle Gilbert grunted. "Why don't you put my left shoulder blade towork," he muttered; "it's the only part of my anatomy that hasn't got ajob."

  "John," whispered the nervous Aunt Miranda, "do you really think yourUncle Gilbert knows enough about the car?"

  "Sure," I answered, and I was very serious about it. "Now, UncleGilbert, keep both eyes on the road in front of you and the rest of yourface in the wagon. Start the driving wheels, repeat slowly the name ofyour favorite coroner, and leave the rest to Fate!"

  And away they started in the Whiz Wagon.

  Before they had rolled along for half a mile through town the machinesuddenly began to breathe fast, and then, all of a sudden, it choked upand stopped.

  "Will it explode?" whispered Aunt Miranda, pleadingly.

  "No," said Uncle Gilbert, jumping out; "I think the cosmopolitan hasbuckled with the trapezoid," and then, with a monkey wrench, he crawledunder the hood to see if the trouble was stubbornness or appendicitis.

  Uncle Gilbert took a dislike to a brass valve and began to knock it withthe monkey wrench, whereupon the valve got mad at him and upset a pintof ancient salad oil all over his features.

  When Uncle Gilbert recovered consciousness the machine was breathingagain, so he jumped to the helm, pointed the bow at Tampico, Mex., andbegan to cut the grass.

  Alas! however, it seemed that the demon of unrest possessed thatCoal-oil Coupe, for it soon began to jump and skip, and suddenly, with asnort, it took the river road and scooted away from town.

  Uncle Gilbert patted it on the back and spoke soothingly, but it was nouse.

  Aunt Miranda pleaded with him to keep in near the shore, because shewas getting seasick; but her tears were in vain.

  "You must appear calm and indifferent in the presence of danger,"muttered Uncle Gilbert as they rushed madly into the bosom of a flock ofcows.

  But luck was with them, for with a turn of the wrist Uncle Gilbertjumped the machine across the road, and all he could feel was the sharpswish of an old cow's tail across his cheek as they rushed on and out ofthat animal's life forever.

  Aunt Miranda tried to be brave and to chat pleasantly. "How is WallStreet these days?" she asked, and just then the machine struck a stoneand she went up in the air.

  "Unsettled," answered Uncle Gilbert when she got back, and then therewas an embarrassing silence.

  To try to hold a polite conversation, on a motor car in full flight isvery much like trying to repeat the Declaration of Independence whilefalling from a seventh-story window.

  Then, all of a sudden, the machine struck a chord in G, and started forNewfoundland at the rate of 7,000,000 miles a minute.

  Aunt Miranda threw her arms around Uncle Gilbert's neck, he threw hisneck around the lever, the lever threw him over, and they both threw afit.

  Down the road ahead of them a man and his wife were quarreling. Theywere so much in earnest that they did not hear the machine sneakingswiftly up on rubber shoes.

  As the Benzine Buggy was about to fall upon the quarreling man and wifeUncle Gilbert squeezed a couple of hoarse "Toot toots" from the horn,whereu
pon the woman in the road threw up both hands and leaped for theman. The man threw up both feet and leaped for the fence.

  The last Aunt Miranda saw of them they were entering their modest homeneck and neck, and the divorce court lost a bet.

  Then the machine began to climb a telegraph pole, and as it ran down theother side Aunt Miranda wanted to know for the tenth time if it wouldexplode.

  "How did John tell you to handle it?" she shrieked, as the Rowdy Cartbit its way through a stone fence and began to dance a two-step over astrange man's lawn.

  "The only way to handle this infernal machine is to soak it in water,"yelled Uncle Gilbert as they hit the main road again.

  "I don't see what family pride has to do with it; there isn't a soullooking," moaned Aunt Miranda.

  "Oh if I could only be arrested for fast riding and get this thingstopped," wailed Uncle Gilbert as they headed for the river.

  "Let me out, let me out," pleaded Aunt Miranda, and the machine seemedto hear her, for it certainly obliged the lady.

  I found out afterwards that in order to make good with Aunt Miranda themachine jumped up in the air and turned a double handspring, during thecourse of which friend Uncle and his wife fell out and landed in themost generous inclined mud puddle in that part of the state.

  Then the Buzz Buggy turned around and barked at them, and with anexcited wag of its tail scooted for home and left them flat.

  Late that evening Uncle Gilbert explained that there would have been notrouble at all if he had removed a defective spark plug.

  But I think if Uncle Gilbert would go to Dr. Leiser and have hisparsimony removed he'd have more fun as he breezes through life.

  Peaches thinks just as I do, but she won't say it out loud--she's a fox,that Kid.