"Hold on, old Nobs!" cried the son, with frank filial sympathy. "Think of the guv'nor, father, and vait for the first stoppage. Never again vith the Muggleton Motor! Vhy, it vorse than a hortomatic vheelbarrow, ain't it, Mr. Pickwick?"
"Ah, Sammy," assented Mr. Weller, Senior, hugging his whip, affectionately. "Vorse even than vidders, Sammy, the red-nosed shepherd, or the Mulberry One hisself!"
A bear in a motor-car attracted much attention in the City last week. It had four legs this time.
The Motor Car declares, on high medical authority, that motoring is a cure for insanity. We would therefore recommend several motorists we know to persevere.
Gentle Satire—"I say, Bill, look 'ere! 'Ere's a old cove out record-breaking!"