Connecticut western news., 1920-04-22
PEASE PAUSED WHEN
 FLIVVER WOULDN'T FLIV
Spring Poets Rhythmic Tune Sang Before the First
 of June

Charlie Pease, of "Lizzy" fame, went out riding in his flivver, till the poor old beast went lame and could but stand and quiver. Charlie cussed till the air was blue and the road was mussed for a mile or two, so he scratches his head and writes this lay, of the things that happened to the fivver that day. Then to the News office Charlie hies and back of the desk the editor spies; blanks down the copy, asks how much per pound should a poet get whose "wheels" go round. Now, it is proper, if you've got some news, that you think the editor would like to use, providing it has not crumbled with age, it may find place on the first page.-Editor's Note.
 He Auto Know Better
 When the weather feels like springtime and the snow and ice are gone; when the peep-frogs sing at evening and the grass starts on the lawn; then a feller has an itching and hankerin' to go for a spin out in the country Ia Flivver-like, you know.
 Now, that is just what happened to one Canaanite last week, and all was fine and dandy and everything worked sleek, until he reached a bit of road that looked little wet, though nothing there appeared like what would make a car get wet. So MT. Driver made a dash for land the other side, but the puddle grabbed his Flivver and refused to let him ride.
 The wheels were in all over, and the differential too, and the poor cuss looked and wondered what on earth he'd ever do. Alone he was, he tried his best to figure out way to extricate his Lizzie from the wet and nasty clay. He tried to back, then go ahead, but true as we two live, that motor just refused to mote, the Flivver wouldn't fliv.
 The poor man grew discouraged, and disconsolate, and sad; to think he'd got in such scrape just made him swearing mad. Iris nice, some times, to be alone, but 'twasn't nice out there-no one to lend helping hand, no one to hear him swear.
 Now, all this happened on road that paralleled the track, where Tierney and his gang hold forth (they sometimes call him Jack), and, strange to say, about this time Jacks handcar hove in sight, propelled by four strong, husky men, who saw the autos plight. Jack called for brakes; they stopped the car, and pulled it off the track, then sauntered down across the lot to help put Lizzie back. They pushed and pulled, but Lizzie stuck, she wouldn't move a hair; then with the motors help they tried, but Lizzie stayed right there. They made one more heroic try, the engine did her bit; the wheels spun round and filled the air with water, mud and grit. It plastered nearly every man from head to foot with grime-the way those men were decorated surely was a crime; but they were all good-natured and con- sidered it joke-it only fired up their spunk to conquer or go broke. "Come onW said Jack, "grab hold the brute, we'll left her out the hole:" and sure they did, and Lizzie came up safe and sound and whole. A sorry looking sight she was, but true to rep. and name, she respond ed to the gas and crank and got there just the same.
 Now, listen! when you run amuck, you're. surely one wise guy to do it on highway near where Tierney's gang go by.
 And now, perhaps you'd like to know who twas that had this spree, and so I don't mind saying that that autoist was
 ME.
 Au,er;eap Tao;op CmoLer