“Oh, the Engine’s on Fire!”
Meanwhile everybody in the dollsmobile was trying not to be frightened.
“Can’t you slow down a little, Father?” asked Mrs. Brave.
“The brakes won’t hold,” panted Mr. Brave, forcing both brakes on with all his might. “This is dreadful!”
“Gee whiz!” exclaimed little Ibee, looking out the rear window. “Here comes the motor police. He’ll arrest us for speeding.”
“Oh, mercy, we’re coming to Rocking Hill road,” gasped Shesa. “Father, do turn off the power!”
But Shesa spoke too late, and kerr-smash! kerr-bang! kerr-plunk! went the dollsmobile right into the rockers of the rocking chair, turning “turtle” twice, and breaking the beautiful glass windows to pieces. Out of the broken radiator the boiling hot water poured over poor Mrs. Brave’s arm where she lay just as she was thrown.
“Oh, the engine’s on fire!” shrieked little Soami, “and I’m burning to death!”
“Father, Father,” called little Ibee, “come get me out! I’m fast under the car! Come get me out, please! Oh, I’ll be burned to death! Father, oh, my arm hurts! Oh, I can’t move my arm!”