“Ortermobiles” ses Mr. Wolley tying his horse up feercely to the veranda post “is a meniss to our prisint civilisashun. Nowadays” ses he, “its impossible for a gintleman to drive in quite peece in aven the most seclooded porshun of the woods. The gratest evil which these damnible veehicles have brot” ses he “is its maleevilint effect upon the conshunse and disposition of modun peeble. Peeple who own these infernul evil smelling noysy cursed cars are like the victims of some orful drug—devoyed of dacinsy—of rispict—of consideration and proper mercy tord there feller beings. There shud be a lor passed making it a criminal offinse punishible by the pinnytensherry to ride the dammed masheen on the public hyways at all. Rodes and highways are the legitimut proppety of horses and pedestryians. Its a disgrace to our modun civilysashun that we have cum to such a sorry pass—a week-need trimbling fritened lot afrade to vinchure forth for feer of having our lives cut aff widout warning by these infernal veehicles.”

Wid that he mops his brow, and sets down widout looking on the shteps. I was swaping down the verandahs wid a pale of water, and had driven the family at the poynt of me broom to the lons below. Whin the auld gintleman found himself sated in a pool of the water he shoots up wid a yell. Miss Claire runs forward and trys to squaze the water out from his cote tales—larfing as her father swares.

“Poor old daddy!” ses she “I’m afrade if I let you go arfter the male much longer you’ll be a pray to nerviss prosperation.”

“Do you imagine” ses the auld gintleman feercely “that I’m to be robbed of me daily drive by a parcel of godless hairbrained—damnible——”

“Papa” ses little Billy, bringing over his pale from his sandpile. “I loves the oretermobiles?”

“Why bless me hart!” ses the auld man melting “and what do you know of them you raskill” ses he.

“I had a ride in one yistiday” ses Billy.

“What!” ses the hole family at wance.

“Yes” ses Billy, nodding his little hed, “Theres a grate big wan in that place there” ses he poynting, “and yistiday when Claire was digging her old flours there cum a yung man who luked over the fince, and he sed—he sed——”

Miss Claire wint first crimson thin wite. Then crimson agin.

“Billy deerie” ses she, “cum and let me swing you in the hammick.”

“Go on Billy” airges Mr. James, guving his sister a quare look.

“He sed good morning to Claire, and she was very rood and jest wint on wid her digging and then he sed he was sorry and he cudent help himself becoz he herd what she sed about honting her, and then he seen me and said hello yung wan, come over here, and then I went and he reeched down and lifted me up and tuk me over to his place. And he guv me a ride in his nortemobile and on a donkey’s back, did’nt he Claire?”

She sed, widout looking up.

“I suppose he did, Billy, but I” ses she “was too bizzy. I—I d-didnt look” ses she.

Mr. James bounces up. “Claire” ses he “that hidge of yours is taking a jolly long time to dig.”

Mrs. Wolley looked turribly alarmed.

“He was probably sum gardiner or groom” ses she “Did you spake to him Claire deer?”

“No!” ses Miss Claire wid emfasis.

“Yet you let him take little Billy?” ses Mr. James.

“Am I me brother’s kaper?” ses she flushing round on thim all.

“I won’t have Claire badgered” ses the auld gintleman. “Is she rayspunsible for the silly thricks of the yung ass in there? He’s the very one who whin I refoosed to move out of the rode to let his infernal masheen go by drove it rite under me horse’s nose, almost upsetting me. Billy” ses he, “if I heer of your taking any more rides or spaking to the man over there I’ll whip you. You under stand sir?”

“Yessir” whimpered the preshus lamb and flew to me arms for comfut.