“Now he are ready to do anything,” collapse Hon. Mrs dragging me to seat besides her. I set here holding on to my soul.
“Observe my antics if possible,” she commit with extreme dexterity of thumbs, heels, hands & elbows while she poke 6 buttons, jerk 1 doz handles, inflame electricity and make goose-cry by horn.
I sat gast to see her. WHOOSH!! We commence onward.
“That are way to start ottomobile,” holla Mrs Seth Hopp while avoiding death on road & wheeling corners with aviator expression.
“It are easy like astronomy,” I rejoint, holding on to my hair to keep him from blowing off. And so forth.
At R. R. station we stop up and load on Hon. Mr. Hopp, one large, portable man of important fat.
“Togo are learning to chaff this car so he can drag you back & forth,” decry Hon. Mrs.
“He do not look very powerful,” contuse him cattishly.
How could he realise?