When Ernest asked me to take a run in his car I took advantage of the
invitation because there are times when I think that life is less joyful
without a car and that one day I shall slip out and buy one. I should
love to grip the wheel and sweep the countryside and listen to the soft
purr of the engine. So we started sweeping the countryside, Ernest and
I; but we had not swept very much of it before the soft purr developed a
kind of cough and the car stopped.
Ernest coaxed and petted her. He tried kindness, while I helped him with
sarcasm. He tried hauteur and then a little bad temper.
Eventually he decided to send for the local motor engineer, and it was
when this gentleman arrived with his mate that I decided that motoring
was not for me and that I should have to fall back on fretwork or tame
mice for my recreation.
"Here, Bill," said Overalls-in-Chief, "just hold up the Ding-dong."
His mate did as instructed and up went the Ding-dong.
"Now hand me the Doo-dal," he went on; "and while I tune up the old
Jig-jig you get the Pipety-pip and clean it out.
"Now get the Tick-tick and just give me a tap here with the Ooh-jah,
while I give the Thing-a-me-tight a couple for his nob.
"See that?" he shouted at me. "Would you believe it? Easy as
winking. See, it was like this. The What's-a-name here, as kept the
Tiddley-um-tum in place, was sort of riding on the Squeak-box, so as the
Tiddley-om-pom and the other Jigger sort of gave the half-seas-over
to the Thing-a-me-bob and missed the Rum-ti-tum. Simple, ain't it,
Guv'nor?"
"Yes," I answered, "quite simple."
But I have decided to give up all idea of buying a car. I should never
learn the language.
* * * * *