The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1911-10-18
THE LOGICAL FINISH.
Another Kind Of Progressive as Told
In a Fable In Slang by
Geo. AIDE.

|haved citizen who took home a dab OF
steak, wrapped up in brown paper
nearly every evening, and found his
excitement by working on the puzzle
column in the church paper.
In order to run out to his farm and
save the expense of keeping a horse
he purchased kind of highway beetle
known as a runabout. 1t was a one
|lunger with wheel base of nearly
Itwenty-eight inches and two coal oil
lamps.
When standing still it painted like a
Newfoundland dog and breathed blue
smoke through the gills.
1t steered with a rudder, the same
as a canal boat, and every time it
started up four per cent grade it
became black in the face and tried
to lie down.
When he had recovered from the
first frenzy of his JOY over his success
full effort to exceed the speed limit
of twelve miles an hour, he began
to notice that all the large brutal
looking cars with swollen wheels all
came along and tried to ditch him,
and showed him the same courteous
consideration that would be lavished
upon a colored republican orator in
Tuscaloosa, Ala.
When he pulled up alongside the
road to adjust the buzzer and jiggle
the feed and clean the plug, the idle
spectators would stand around and re.
mark that the mixture was wrong
and the ignition was punk and the
transmission was fiiv. So he knew
he was in wrong.
He traded for dashing two-cylin-
der affair painted red, with ton
neau as wide and roomy as tele-
phone booth, and approached from
the extreme rear by a small door
as in the case of blind pig. When
he turned in the runabout he was
ALLOWED one outer casing and a jack
in exchange.
He was some motorist for about
three weeks after the delivery of Jug
gernaut number two. He wore leath-
er clothes, the same as Barney Old
field. In the absence of a speedom-
eter he told what the car could do
and got away with it.
But when he bumped up against
the owners of the big touring cars
he was just as much at home as a
one.armed man at husking bee. q
He began to discover that in the
gasoline set a man is rated by the
number of cylinders he carries.
At the beginning of the third sea-
son We find him steering long, low,
rakish chariot of fire, with clock,
Ia trunk rack, an emergency ice box
and all the other comforts of home.
He had learned to smell a constable
la mile off, and whenever he ran up
behind pewee coffee grinder he
NClIS AAtO IAC AlAGA cAu AhoAO SAAS
cheap machine look like fish.
When ever the bobbler pointed to
anything short of sixty he felt that
he was just the same as standing still.
He loved to throw open the muf-
fler and hit the high spots, never stop
ping until the wheels became clogged
with live stock and poultry.
One day while he was breezing
along the pike at the easy clip, u.s.
ually marking the schedule of the
Twentieth Century Limited, he heard
behind him a low and sullen roar,
as if the wind playing through 1000
pine trees, and something gray and
about as long wasted as a torpedo
boat shot past him and went over
the hill He fell forward on the wheel
and began to weep.
He had been shown up.
He knew that he could never look
his fellowmen in the eyes until he
traded in and got six with enough
power to jump small streams and
climb trees.
At last he appeared on the road
with the real thing. 1t had armor
plate all over it, and ten-foot COW
catcher in front, and the driver had
to sit on the small of his back and
wear helmet.
The morning he ran it out of the
garage a prominent insurance COM
pany foreclosed on ,the farm, but he
was in CHEEKY mood, for he knew
ne could cut rings around any other
balloon in the county.
One morning he went around
curve on two wheels and tried to dis
lodge new bridge turned out by the
steel trust and imbedded in solid
concrete.
A neighbOr went to the widow and
h,I