oe rar... 44! 
August 27, 1915. 
| a 
THE SONG. OF THE MOTORIST. 
OF. the mad delight of the motor’s flight 
As the world goes whirling by, 
And the rural scene is a blur of green 
On the blue of a dwindling sky ; 
When under our feet the beat, beat, beat, 
Of a heart of steel we feel, 
And the tune and time of the pulses chime 
To the song of the automobile. 
Oh, the reel and jar of the flying car 
As it leaves the dust behind 
And rocks and swerves to the dizzy curves 
Where a tangle of roads. unwind! 
By fields and farms, and the emerald charms 
Of the virgin woods we go, 
And the rustics stare as we cut the air 
Like a shaft from a mighty bow. 
Then speed, more speed, till the towns recede 
Like motes in the distance dim, 
And trees and grass, and the things we pass 
In a maelstrom of motion swim. 
The God-like dower of a centaur’s power 
Is mine as I pull the lever, 
So away, away, through the night and day, 
We will girdle the earth forever. 
X-X-X 
WENT motoring the other evening—that is if you can 
call riding in a “Ford,” motoring—on an invitation from 
niy friend the paper salesman, I always knew he was a good 
salesman, not that he is always talking shop, but because 
he has a laugh that is really wholesome, and as good as 
the paper he sells, One is always glad to see him—and 
hear him laugh anyway, and as to selling you the goods, 
well—he takes care of that. I should like to suggest to 
his firm—who by the way are one of the biggest and best 
known paper houses in America—that they institute a 
school for salesmen, with my friend as teacher. Not to 
teach them salesmanship, they probably know that or they 
would not be holding down their jobs—but just to teach 
them how to laugh, not “at” their customer, but “wath” 
him. For when the salesman comes along—like my 
friend—and you give him the glad hand at any and all 
times, well—he is some salesman. 
X-X-X 
UT I was talking about motoring, and on this trip some- 
thing happened, for I got the laugh on my friend the 
salesman, and—funny thing—he enjoyed it as much as 
I did. It happened this way. When we started it was 
quite light, but as it gradually grew dark my friend push- 
ed the button which was supposed to light the headlights, 
but no light was forthcoming, He tried again, and again. 
Still no light. Finally rather than proceed with no head- 
lichts he pulled into a garage in Salem, and with the help 
of a mechanic (at 75c. an hour) proceeded to look the 
car over. They pulled up the hood and they put it down 
again, they screwed up the insides and they screwed up 
the outsides, they started the engine and they stopped 
the engine I don’t know how many times. Tools—well 
they used enough tools to build a dreadnaught, and then 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 19 
ne 
Se Ge 4S bs ANbls A Be@Wah 7 | 
¢-—---—--—— ee 
have some left over. We waited patiently, while they 
_worked and sweated, till—along came oiic 01 those genial 
gentlemen, who are always hanging around garages, but 
never seem to be doing anything, and stepping up to my 
friend said, in the usual exasperating way: 
“Headlights don’t work?” 
“No.” snapped my friend. 
“Why don’t you put on the connections?” said he. 
And sure enough the connections which slip on the 
back of the lamps had been lifted out and left hanging. 
So that was the very good reason the lamps would not 
light. 
X-X-X 
Of course my friend had to explain at great length 
that he had just taken the car out of the garage, etc., etc., 
but—it cost him just fifty cents for cigars just the same. 
Still I know he is laughing about it yet, so probably it 
was worth it. 
X-X-X 
ALKING about lamps—what is going to be the out- 
come of this craze for battleship headlights on motor 
cars. I thought the limit had been reached when some 
motorists installed those high-powered electric lights on 
their cars, and proceeded to make motoring at night—for 
tire other fellow—about as dangerous a pastiire as there 
is going, But I saw some of the new lights the other 
meght, and I had plenty of time to see them, because when 
a car approached with a set of them, there was nothing 
to do but stop the car I was in and let them pass, for 
the dazzling glare simply blinded me for the time being. 
X-X-X 
Perhaps the motorists who have these new lights 
enjoy and need them, but it is a sure thing the other fel- 
low doesn’t, and if they ever go to the place I wished 
them the other night, they certainly: will not need any 
battleship headlights—or any other lights for that matter. 
PAL <b < 
HAT a charming motor trip it is from Nahant to 
Gloucester. Over the Nahant Speedway, along 
Lynn Shore Drive, through Swampscott over the new 
Boulevard, along Humphrey street to Lafayette street, on 
through quaint Salem, Beverly, to Pride’s Crossing, Bev- 
erly Farms, Manchester, Magnolia, the road winds on 
its way. Here and there it follows the coast line, then 
through a stretch of meadow, on whose green bosom a 
stream meanders, its borders fringed with tall grasses ‘a 
their summer bloom. Leaving the lowland it climbs a 
short rise, from the crest of which the traveller gains a 
view of the countryside, with the broad Atlantic stretch- 
ing away into the distance. Anon the road descends the 
hill and sunset light turns what little dust there is into 
gold as it falls by the wayside, And on, and on the 
motor softly glides over roads, well oiled, and as smooth 
and well kept as any in the world. 
X-X-X 
HAVE heard and read a great deal about the famous 
motor roads of Europe, but for wonderful roads and 
diversified scenery I doubt very much if you can beat the 
motor trip from Nahant to Gloucester, along the old 
North Shore of Massachusetts Bay, right here at home. 
— ‘Danny Dow.” 
