I had gone to the "Holland," which Ruth scorns, and I must say that, in my frame of mind at the time, I did not find the voices of my fellow countrymen soothing! A number of people were gathered in the great room under the glass dome, having afternoon tea, when a small boy appeared in the doorway and called out in a shrill voice: "Mummer, pop says can't you get a move on?" Mummer was fat and slow, but she did get the move on, and, what must have been a relief to the rest of the company, her son did the same! I thought with regret of the dear little children at Llandino, and wished we might devote a little more time to voice culture. At that moment a page passed through, saying very quietly--so different from our "paging" at home: "Mr. Dobson, if you please; Mr. Dobson, if you please," and when he came opposite where I was sitting, I did "please," and he handed me a telegram. It was from Ruth, saying that she and her sister were at a small hotel in Kensington, and asking me to join them. But of what Ruth told me when I reached there I will tell you after I have finished the story of the self-starter. Three anxious days passed, and I again presented myself at the garage. I noticed that every one who saw me grinned, which did not make me feel better disposed toward the company. When the manager appeared--he, too, was smiling--I said: "Have you found the trouble?" "Oh, yes," he said, "the battery had run down." "So I suppose," I replied, with biting sarcasm. "Have you found the leak?" "Yes, the engineer found it as soon as we told him that the battery ran down forty-eight hours after charging." "Will it work now?" "Like new; would you like to try it?" "Yes," I replied, but without enthusiasm. But I no sooner pressed the pedal than the cheerful hum which had first attracted me was heard, and the engine began to turn over. "How do I know that it will work twenty-four hours from now?" I asked. "You don't, but we will guarantee it, with reasonable care." "All right," I said. "And now what do I owe you?" "That depends upon you," said the cheerful manager. "If you will let us publish this story in our trade journal, and sign your name to it, we will gladly remit the bill." "I don't think I understand," said I, with considerable dignity. "What story?" "The story of the car that was charged five times in two weeks, and ran down each time forty-eight hours later." "Well, what of it?" "This of it. That I suppose it is the first time in the history of motoring, in which _the headlights have been left on for three weeks, burning night and day_!" Yes, that is what had happened. The weather being continuously rainy in Ireland, I had covered the headlights so snugly that no light seeped through the covers, and then must carelessly have touched the button which lights them, and so had been exhausting the current as fast as it could be generated!!! I paid my bill and kept the story for you!