"Look out where you're going, Stan."
"Henry, if you don't slow down I'm going to get out and take the train back home."
If this is accompanied by a clutching gesture at the driver's arm it is sure to throw him into a good humor for the rest of the trip, so that a good time will be had by all present.
Although guests are not so prone to make suggestions on the running of the car as are those who, through the safety of family connection, may do so without fear of bodily assault from the driver, nevertheless, a guest may, according to the code, lean over the back of the seat and slip little hints as to the route. Especially if one of them be entrusted with a Blue Book does this form of auto-suggestion become chronic.
"It says here that we should have taken that road to the right back there by the Soldiers' Monument," informs the reader over your shoulder. Or—
"Somehow this doesn't seem like the right road. Personally, I think that we ought to turn around and go back to the cross-roads."
If it is Mrs. Wife in the tonneau who has her own ideas on the route, you might as well give in at her first suggestion, for the risk that she is right is too great to run. If she says that she would advise taking the lane that runs around behind that school-house, take it. Then, if it turns out to be a blind alley, you have the satisfaction of saying nothing, very eloquently and effectively. But if you refuse to take her suggestion, and your road turns out to be even halfway wrong, you might as well turn the wheel over to your little son and go South for the winter, for you will never hear the ultimate cry of triumph. Your season will practically be ruined. I can quote verbatim from the last affair of this kind:
(Voice from the tonneau): "Albert, I think we ought to have taken the road at the left."
"No, we hadn't."