Evening star., 1946-04-24

ner reward.
Her passing was peaceful. She
turned over just once, gave a slight
sputter, and expired.
The "old girl" was Miss Lotta
Rattles, our four-door sedan.
Miss Rattles was born in Detroit,
year before F. D. r. began his
second term in the White House,
and came to work for us In New
York the same year. She was a
pretty thing then-gay, young, alive,
and dressed In bright-blue dress
with lots of silver trim. remember
as if it were yesterday the after
noon we went down to the finance
company to arrange for her adop-
ton. She stood outside, radiant in
the sunshine of Columbus Circle,
while I signed the papers that
would some day make her our very
own.
Almost Everywhere.
What good times We had together!
We went to California, to Arizona,
to New Orleans, to Canada, to
Florida, to almost everywhere. 1t
seemed then that Miss Rattles
would never even be Ill, much less
die. The steepest mountain was
a delight for her to climb. She
liked to run and play In the rain,
and neither the sun Of the desert
nor the cold of the North bothered
her.
And she asked for so little, was
so accomplishing. A few patches
for her dress now and then, and
that was about all
But, around 1910, we began to
notice a change in Miss Rattles. 1t
began to get bit difficult to arouse
her in the morning. and she de-
veloped an alarming wheeze. She
began to become careless of how she
looked, too. The answer. Of course,
was drink. Too much drink. She
was hitting the gasoline and oil in
earnest now. When she first came
to us, Miss Rattles would pass fill
ing station pub after filling station
pub without wanting to stop. But
every few miles or so.
Alarmed, we did everything we
knew how to do for her. We called
in specialists and had her simon
lied, alemited, and even anti
sludged. But she wouldn't or couldn t
seem to straighten up. She was al
ways staggering in and out Of Tex
AGO. Sunoco, Amoco and Standard
bars. And she chased the stuff with
quarts and quarts of high-grade oil.
Bright Look in Eyes.
Then, in 1912, she temporarily
Strengthened up and, without saying
a word to us, joined A-Cards Anony-
nous. She worked for the Red Cross
and joined the motor pool. When I
went of to the Army she was there
to say good-by, and there was a
bright look in her eyes when my
train pulled out that night.
When I came home from the wars
she was there to greet me. wasn't
prepared for the shock. She looked
like a slattern. Her blue dress was
faded and dirty. Her shoes were
worn thin. Her hood was awry, and
the matching accessories Of which
she had once been 50 proud were
battered and torn. Her wheeze had
become a wracking cough, and she
shook so going down the street that
even used-car dealers turned their
eyes from the unpretty sight.
But she was game. She tried to
carry on, even though she was now
drinking almost twice as heavily
as when I went away. For the
past year she had been previously
i'll. There were days when she
wouldn't move st all. but would just
stand in her concrete room. I
hate to admit it, but we sometimes
lost patience with Miss Rattles
and showed her around the streets,
trying to fan life into her fast
failing body.
Today, her long life came to an
end. A specialist who has treat
ed members Of her family for many
years filled in the death certificate
He said that not even Detroit's 8
famed doctors could restore her to
life.
She left a will, leaving every
thing to us. We get it all, includ-
ing the pennies and nickels she
had boarded under her cushions
for so many years.
Please omit flowers.
distributed by MeNausht Syndicate, Inc.)