“This is the poetry of motion,” said Mrs. Tucker. “I don’t believe you’ll ever find an automobile that can run like this.” “I’ll admit that I wouldn’t wish one to go better. Are you all right back there, James?” “All right, sir.” “Why, how queer James’ voice sounds! I never noticed that squeak in it before.” “It’s the exhilarating effect of our fast driving. Do you think that you could stand a faster pace?” “Why, if you’re not afraid of tiring the horse. He seems to be going like the wind now.” “Oh, he won’t mind. Faster, James.” “Why do you say that to James? Did you think _he_ was driving, you absent-minded dear, you?” “I did, for the moment.” James was _sure_ he was driving, and at this command from his employer he put on almost the full force of the electricity. The wagon gave a leap forward, and turning into a macadamized road at this point, they went along at the rate of twenty miles an hour. Mrs. Tucker clutched her husband’s arm. “John, his speed is uncanny. We seem to be going like an express-train!” “It’s the smoothness of the road and his perfect breeding, my dear. Do you notice that this furious gait does not seem to affect his wind at all?” “No, I hadn’t noticed it; but isn’t it queer how regular his hoof-beats are? and they do not seem to quicken their rate at all.” John had noticed this, too, and he had regretted not having told the manufacturer to arrange the mechanism so that the hoof-beats would become more or less rapid according to the gait; but he answered quickly: “That, my dear, is because he reaches farther and farther. You know some breeds of horses gain speed by quickening their gait. This horse gains it by a lengthened reach. He is a remarkable animal. Actually, my dear, we are overtaking a locomobile.” “Oh, John, is he used to these horrid steam-wagons?” “Nothing will frighten this horse, Martha. You can rest assured of that.” A minute later they passed the locomobile. If Mrs. Tucker could have seen the codfish eyes of the occupant of the vehicle when he saw a hobby-horse going by at the rate of twenty miles an hour, she would have questioned his sanity. If she could have seen the scared looks and the scared horse of the people in the approaching buggy she would have begun to wonder what possessed her new possession. But her goggles saved her from present worry, and the buggy was passed in a flash. “Oh, I do wish I could take off my glasses for a minute so that I could enjoy this rapid motion to the full! How the trees must be spinning by!” “Don’t touch your glasses,” said Mr. Tucker, hurriedly. “If a speck of dust or a pebble were to get into your eye, you might become permanently blind. Positively, you are like a child with a new rocking-horse. This turn-out will keep until your eyes are fully recovered, and I hope we may enjoy many a spin in this easy carriage, with or without this horse.”