reminded him. "Hop in now and break forth. Don't let the public think
that you're afraid to blow a Bubble through the streets of your native
town. The rubber sweater buttoned to the chin and the Dutch awning over
the forehead for yours, and on your way!"

Finally and reluctantly Uncle Gilbert and Aunt Miranda climbed into the
kerosene wagon and I gave him his final instructions.

"Now, Uncle Gilbert," I said, "grab that wheel in front of you firmly
with both hands and put one foot on the accelerator. Now put the other
foot on the rheostat and let the left elbow gently rest on the
deodorizer. Keep the rubber tube connecting with the automatic fog
whistle closely between the teeth and let the right elbow be in touch
with the quadruplex while the apex of the left knee is pressed over the
spark coil and the right ankle works the condenser."

Uncle Gilbert grunted. "Why don't you put my left shoulder blade to
work," he muttered; "it's the only part of my anatomy that hasn't got a
job."

"John," whispered the nervous Aunt Miranda, "do you really think your
Uncle Gilbert knows enough about the car?"

"Sure," I answered, and I was very serious about it. "Now, Uncle
Gilbert, keep both eyes on the road in front of you and the rest of your
face in the wagon. Start the driving wheels, repeat slowly the name of
your favorite coroner, and leave the rest to Fate!"

And away they started in the Whiz Wagon.

Before they had rolled along for half a mile through town the machine
suddenly began to breathe fast, and then, all of a sudden, it choked up
and stopped.

"Will it explode?" whispered Aunt Miranda, pleadingly.

"No," said Uncle Gilbert, jumping out; "I think the cosmopolitan has
buckled with the trapezoid," and then, with a monkey wrench, he crawled
under the hood to see if the trouble was stubbornness or appendicitis.

Uncle Gilbert took a dislike to a brass valve and began to knock it with
the monkey wrench, whereupon the valve got mad at him and upset a pint
of ancient salad oil all over his features.

When Uncle Gilbert recovered consciousness the machine was breathing
again, so he jumped to the helm, pointed the bow at Tampico, Mex., and
began to cut the grass.

Alas! however, it seemed that the demon of unrest possessed that
Coal-oil Coupe, for it soon began to jump and skip, and suddenly, with a
snort, it took the river road and scooted away from town.

Uncle Gilbert patted it on the back and spoke soothingl