spare between the cart and a solid stone post opposite. Ruth was as white as death but uttered no sound. The silence was broken by the voice of the child who had been so near death. But what he said seemed inadequate. It was: "Oh, I say!" James Freeman Clarke attributed the profanity of the kindly boatmen on the Ohio River to a lack of vocabulary. Perhaps that was the reason the boy did not swear! Well, the longest lane has a turning and the steepest hill a bottom, so at length the car began to slow down as it struck the opposite rise, and finally came to a full stop. Then Ruth spoke. But, angel as she is, all she said was: "Don't you think, dear, that was a little fast?" I said I thought it was, and that I would go slower hereafter! I could not imagine what had happened. The brakes were new, and while the chauffeur at the "Beeches" had warned me that they were too light, I thought that was because he did not understand the difference there is in weight between an English and an American car. As I say, I could not understand it. The car had behaved as if it were alive--like a high-spirited horse, "full of beans," who had taken the bit into its teeth and bolted. I descended and took a good look at every part of the machine. I found that the foot-brake was in order, _but the emergency brake had not been touched_. I have no doubt that such a student of the "subconscious" as yourself has already discovered the answer to the riddle. Yes, you are right! It was Sir Thomas's foolishness in talking about the "fourth speed," as I was leaving, that had lodged in my subconscious mind and led me to pull, not the emergency brake, but the fourth-speed lever! I asked a laborer, plodding home to his dinner, the name of the little hamlet at the top of the hill. He answered: "Sawley." "Why, that can hardly be," I replied. "I passed Sawley soon after leaving Ripon." "Ay," he replied, "there be two of 'em." "Well, one is enough for me," I answered. He made no reply; simply stared at me as if he thought I was a fool. I guess he was right! The motor-car has completed the work begun by the bicycle of breaking down "the middle wall of partition" which divided Englishmen from strangers. The motor is a letter of introduction to every owner. At the inn where we stopped for lunch were a young couple who, like ourselves, were making a trip, and when I asked some question about roads they opened their maps and not only gave us the desired information but also a valuable "tip," from which I learned on authority what otherwise I could have learned only by experience--that is, by loss of time and labor.