Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1906-11-02
ONE HOUR IN A TOURING CAR.
Motor Has brought the Countr,
House Very Ncnr to TOWN..

House Very Near to Town.
Grandmother'S diary is full of the
merry sleigh rides of her days, but it
is doubtful If they had the excitement
and charm of n modern motor dash at
twenty miles an hour through the
spring night, says the New York Post.
a half century ago the box slciglIs
swept over the whitc-cOvcred roads
from Marmaroncck and Rye to neigh
boring townships. carrying loads Of fun
makers to huSking bees, weddings. barn
dances and other rural diversions, al
most under the shadow of the rapidly
growing metropolis seldom, however,
venturing as far as the city. But now
when it is a matter of only an hour
from the lights of Broadway, cXcur
sions may be of greater length, and the
country amuSements ave almost diSap-
peared.
The touring car shoots frCm the porte
cochere, taking the road along the
ridge. Below lies some lost tributary
of the Bronx, illumined by the White
glare of the lamps where the water
drops over the low par0pet. The
brakes grind as the car deScends to the
sandy roadbed. On all sides are the
black, empty tree pillared aislcs of the
wood. 1t does not seem possible that
less than twenty miles away lies New
York, with its teeming millions, that
prosperous townships surrounded US on
every side. The chauffeur touches the
high-speed lever, and the mCtor. culver
Ing, cuts into the night. The wind rises
= ,,n,p -.h;,{1D 20 J-,F x;,
roar. a log lying in the middle of the
way we skim as lightly as a bird and
we swing into jerome venue. The
macadam gives splendid opportunity
for speeding, and, bit by bit, our driver
shaves the seconds down, until the
motor Is hurrying through the darkness
at thirty miles IN hour. Far ava Il
huge, fiery glow is spread over the
southern sky, wavy and blurred. 1t is
the reflection of the lights Of New
York.
AS we near the city traffic thicRens.
A lone trolley car is passed as if it
were standing still, and delivery wag-
ons seem to be dropped a block at a
jump; fellow motors appear, and the
hoarse 'honk'' of the auto horns is
deafening. This leg" of the course is
eaten up as quickly as the preceding
one. The silhouette of the city is more
distinct. Here and there, some great
apartment hotel shoots its light
speckled bulk into the dusk, while,
nearer at hand, the lamps IN bridges
and shipping in the Harlem form a
dazzling network. Our speed decreases
to 4 modest twelve miles an hOur Fur
Their up the river, as We rumble over
the bridge, 4 train-the same that left
the suburban station with us-whistles
for the draw. We will beat it to 43u
street by several minutes.
Over into Seventh avenue we roll,
slowly threading our way out of the
ruck Tito more open ground, where, at
medium speed, we fash past the Gle
waited pillars. A policeman holds up a
warning hand as we rush past 3Oth
street, but before he can say a word
we are past and two blocks away. Now
we are at Central Park West. The
rough native rock of the park and the
dressed granite cliffs opposite cast puz-
cling shadows across the asphalt At
61st street a mounted officer dasheS out
from the curb, pulling his horse to his
launches, and lifts two warning fingers.
You can't pass here after 6 O'clock
he calls, and we slip down 4 side street
into the Circle, where stands the great
discoverer on his pedestal. Swinging
into Broadway, we mutely obey the sig
nails Of numerous tall bluecoats and
regulate our speed accordingly. A few
blocks further on the lights of Long
Acre square CLEAN warmly, and a clock
strikes the half hour as the car whirrs
to a standstill beside the curb. We
have done it in less than sixty minutes