Phineas and the Motor Car

Phineas used to wonder, sometimes, just when it was that he began to

court Diantha Bowman, the rosy-cheeked, golden-haired idol of his

boyhood. Diantha's cheeks were not rosy now, and her hair was more

silver than gold, but she was not yet his wife.

And he had tried so hard to win her! Year after year the rosiest apples

from his orchard and the choicest honey from his apiary had found their

way to Diantha's table; and year after year the county fair and the

village picnic had found him at Diantha's door with his old mare and his

buggy, ready to be her devoted slave for the day. Nor was Diantha

unmindful of all these attentions. She ate the apples and the honey, and

spent long contented hours in the buggy; but she still answered his

pleadings with her gentle: "I hain't no call to marry yet, Phineas," and

nothing he could do seemed to hasten her decision in the least. It was

the mare and the buggy, however, that proved to be responsible for what

was the beginning of the end.

They were on their way home from the county fair. The mare, head

hanging, was plodding through the dust when around the curve of the road

ahead shot the one automobile that the town boasted. The next moment the

whizzing thing had passed, and left a superannuated old mare looming

through a cloud of dust and dancing on two wabbly hind legs.

"Plague take them autymobiles!" snarled Phineas through set teeth, as he

sawed at the reins. "I ax yer pardon, I'm sure, Dianthy," he added

shamefacedly, when the mare had dropped to a position more nearly

normal; "but I hain't no use fur them 'ere contraptions!"

Diantha frowned. She was frightened--and because she was frightened she

was angry. She said the first thing that came into her head--and never

had she spoken to Phineas so sharply.

"If you did have some use for 'em, Phineas Hopkins, you wouldn't be

crawlin' along in a shiftless old rig like this; you'd have one yourself

an' be somebody! For my part, I like 'em, an' I'm jest achin' ter ride

in 'em, too!"

Phineas almost dropped the reins in his amazement. "Achin' ter ride in

'em," she had said--and all that he could give her was this "shiftless

old rig" that she so scorned. He remembered something else, too, and his

face flamed suddenly red. It was Colonel Smith who owned and drove that

automobile, and Colonel Smith, too, was a bachelor. What if--Instantly

in Phineas's soul rose a fierce jealousy.

"I like a hoss, myself," he said then, with some dignity. "I want

somethin' that's alive!"

Diantha laughed slyly. The danger was past, and she could afford to be

merry.

"Well, it strikes me that you come pretty near havin' somethin' that

_wa'n't_ alive jest 'cause you had somethin' that was!" she

retorted. "Really, Phineas, I didn't s'pose Dolly could move so fast!"

Phineas bridled.

"Dolly knew how ter move--once," he rejoined grimly. "'Course nobody

pretends ter say she's young now, any more 'n we be," he finished with

some defiance. But he drooped visibly at Diantha's next words.

"Why, I don't feel old, Phineas, an' I ain't old, either. Look at

Colonel Smith; he's jest my age, an' he's got a autymobile. Mebbe I'll

have one some day."

To Phineas it seemed that a cold hand clutched his heart.

"Dianthy, you wouldn't really--ride in one!" he faltered.

Until that moment Diantha had not been sure that she would, but the

quaver in Phineas's voice decided her.

"Wouldn't I? You jest wait an' see!"

And Phineas did wait--and he did see. He saw Diantha, not a week later,

pink-cheeked and bright-eyed, sitting by the side of Colonel Smith in

that hated automobile. Nor did he stop to consider that Diantha was only

one of a dozen upon whom Colonel Smith, in the enthusiasm of his new

possession, was pleased to bestow that attention. To Phineas it could

mean but one thing; and he did not change his opinion when he heard

Diantha's account of the ride.

"It was perfectly lovely," she breathed. "Oh, Phineas, it was jest like

flyin'!"

"'Flyin'!'" Phineas could say no more. He felt as if he were

choking,--choking with the dust raised by Dolly's plodding hoofs.

"An' the trees an' the houses swept by like ghosts," continued Diantha.

"Why, Phineas, I could 'a' rode on an' on furever!"

Before the ecstatic rapture in Diantha's face Phineas went down in

defeat. Without one word he turned away--but in his heart he registered

a solemn vow: he, too, would have an automobile; he, too, would make

Diantha wish to ride on and on forever!

Arduous days came then to Phineas. Phineas was not a rich man. He had

enough for his modest wants, but until now those wants had not included

an automobile--until now he had not known that Diantha wished to fly.

All through the autumn and winter Phineas pinched and economized until

he had lopped off all of the luxuries and most of the pleasures of

living. Even then it is doubtful if he would have accomplished his

purpose had he not, in the spring, fallen heir to a modest legacy of a

few thousand dollars. The news of his good fortune was not two hours old

when he sought Diantha.

"I cal'late mebbe I'll be gettin' me one o' them 'ere autymobiles this

spring," he said, as if casually filling a pause in the conversation.

"_Phineas_!"

At the awed joy in Diantha's voice the man's heart glowed within him.

This one moment of triumph was worth all the long miserable winter with

its butterless bread and tobaccoless pipes. But he carefully hid his joy

when he spoke.

"Yes," he said nonchalantly. "I'm goin' ter Boston next week ter pick

one out. I cal'late on gettin' a purty good one."

"Oh, Phineas! But how--how you goin' ter run it?"

Phineas's chin came up.

"Run it!" he scoffed. "Well, I hain't had no trouble yet steerin' a

hoss, an' I cal'late I won't have any more steerin' a mess o' senseless

metal what hain't got no eyes ter be seein' things an' gittin' scared! I

don't worry none 'bout runnin' it."

"But, Phineas, it ain't all steerin'," ventured Diantha, timidly.

"There's lots of little handles and things ter turn, an' there's some

things you do with your feet. Colonel Smith did."

The name Smith to Phineas was like a match to gunpowder. He flamed

instantly into wrath.

"Well, I cal'late what Colonel Smith does, I can," he snapped.

"Besides"--airily--"mebbe I shan't git the feet kind, anyhow; I want the

best. There's as much as four or five kinds, Jim Blair says, an' I

cal'late ter try 'em all."

"Oh-h!" breathed Diantha, falling back in her chair with an ecstatic

sigh. "Oh, Phineas, won't it be grand!" And Phineas, seeing the joyous

light in her eyes, gazed straight down a vista of happiness that led to

wedding bells and bliss.

Phineas was gone some time on his Boston trip. When he returned he

looked thin and worried. He started nervously at trivial noises, and his

eyes showed a furtive restlessness that quickly caused remark.

"Why, Phineas, you don't look well!" Diantha exclaimed when she saw him.

"Well? Oh, I'm well."

"An' did you buy it--that autymobile?"

"I did." Phineas's voice was triumphant. Diantha's eyes sparkled.

"Where is it?" she demanded.

"Comin'--next week."

"An' did you try 'em all, as you said you would?"

Phineas stirred; then he sighed.

"Well, I dunno," he acknowledged. "I hain't done nothin' but ride in 'em

since I went down--I know that. But there's such a powerful lot of 'em,

Dianthy; an' when they found out I wanted one, they all took hold an'

showed off their best p'ints--'demonstatin',' they called it. They raced

me up hill an' down hill, an' scooted me round corners till I didn't

know where I was. I didn't have a minute ter myself. An' they went fast,

Dianthy-powerful fast. I ain't real sure yet that I'm breathin'

natural."

"But it must have been grand, Phineas! I should have loved it!"

"Oh, it was, 'course!" assured Phineas, hastily.

"An' you'll take me ter ride, right away?" If Phineas hesitated it was

for only a moment.

"'Course," he promised. "Er--there's a man, he's comin' with it, an'

he's goin' ter stay a little, jest ter--ter make sure everything's all

right. After he goes I'll come. An' ye want ter be ready--I'll show ye a

thing or two!" he finished with a swagger that was meant to hide the

shake in his voice.

In due time the man and the automobile arrived, but Diantha did not have

her ride at once. It must have taken some time to make sure that

"everything was all right," for the man stayed many days, and while he

was there, of course Phineas was occupied with him. Colonel Smith was

unkind enough to observe that he hoped it was taking Phineas Hopkins

long enough to learn to run the thing; but his remark did not reach

Diantha's ears. She knew only that Phineas, together with the man and

the automobile, started off early every morning for some unfrequented

road, and did not return until night.

There came a day, however, when the man left town, and not twenty-four

hours later, Phineas, with a gleaming thing of paint and polish, stood

at Diantha's door.

"Now ain't that pretty," quavered Diantha excitedly. "Ain't that awful

pretty!"

Phineas beamed.

"Purty slick, I think myself," he acknowledged.

"An' green is so much nicer than red," cooed Diantha.

Phineas quite glowed with joy--Colonel Smith's car was red. "Oh, green's

the thing," he retorted airily; "an' see!" he added; and forthwith he

burst into a paean of praise, in which tires, horns, lamps, pumps,

baskets, brakes, and mud-guards were the dominant notes. It almost

seemed, indeed, that he had bought the gorgeous thing before him to look

at and talk about rather than to use, so loath was he to stop talking

and set the wheels to moving. Not until Diantha had twice reminded him

that she was longing to ride in it did he help her into the car and make

ready to start.

It was not an entire success--that start. There were several false moves

on Phineas's part, and Diantha could not repress a slight scream and a

nervous jump at sundry unexpected puffs and snorts and snaps from the

throbbing thing beneath her. She gave a louder scream when Phineas, in

his nervousness, sounded the siren, and a wail like a cry from the

spirit world shrieked in her ears.

"Phineas, what was that?" she shivered, when the voice had moaned into

silence.

Phineas's lips were dry, and his hands and knees were shaking; but his

pride marched boldly to the front.

"Why, that's the siren whistle, 'course," he chattered. "Ain't it great?

I thought you'd like it!" And to hear him one would suppose that to

sound the siren was always a necessary preliminary to starting the

wheels.

They were off at last. There was a slight indecision, to be sure,

whether they would go backward or forward, and there was some hesitation

as to whether Diantha's geranium bed or the driveway would make the best

thoroughfare. But these little matters having been settled to the

apparent satisfaction of all concerned, the automobile rolled down the

driveway and out on to the main highway.

"Oh, ain't this grand!" murmured Diantha, drawing a long but somewhat

tremulous breath.

Phineas did not answer. His lips were tense, and his eyes were fixed on

the road ahead. For days now he had run the car himself, and he had been

given official assurance that he was quite capable of handling it; yet

here he was on his first ride with Diantha almost making a failure of

the whole thing at the start. Was he to be beaten--beaten by a senseless

motor car and Colonel Smith? At the thought Phineas lifted his chin and

put on more power.

"Oh, my! How f-fast we're goin'!" cried Diantha, close to his ear.

Phineas nodded.

"Who wants ter crawl?" he shouted; and the car leaped again at the touch

of his hand.

They were out of the town now, on a wide road that had few turns.

Occasionally they met a carriage or a wagon, but the frightened horses

and the no less frightened drivers gave the automobile a wide

berth--which was well; for the parallel tracks behind Phineas showed

that the car still had its moments of indecision as to the course to

pursue.

The town was four miles behind them when Diantha, who had been for some

time vainly clutching at the flying ends of her veil, called to Phineas

to stop.

The request took Phineas by surprise. For one awful moment his mind was

a blank--he had forgotten how to stop! In frantic haste he turned and

twisted and shoved and pulled, ending with so sudden an application of

the brakes that Diantha nearly shot head first out of the car as it

stopped.

"Why, why--Phineas!" she cried a little sharply.

Phineas swallowed the lump in his throat and steadied himself in his

seat.

"Ye see I--I can stop her real quick if I want to," he explained

jauntily. "Ye can do 'most anythin' with these 'ere things if ye only

know how, Dianthy. Didn't we come slick?"

"Yes, indeed," stammered Diantha, hastily smoothing out the frown on her

face and summoning a smile to her lips--not for her best black silk gown

would she have had Phineas know that she was wishing herself safe at

home and the automobile back where it came from.

"We'll go home through the Holler," said Phineas, after she had retied

her veil and they were ready to start. "It's the long way round, ye

know. I ain't goin' ter give ye no snippy little two-mile run, Dianthy,

like Colonel Smith did," he finished gleefully.

"No, of course not," murmured Diantha, smothering a sigh as the

automobile started with a jerk.

An hour later, tired, frightened, a little breathless, but valiantly

declaring that she had had a "beautiful time," Diantha was set down at

her own door.

That was but the first of many such trips. Ever sounding in Phineas

Hopkins's ears and spurring him to fresh endeavor, were Diantha's words,

"I could 'a' rode on an' on furever"; and deep in his heart was the

determination that if it was automobile rides that she wanted, it was

automobile rides that she should have! His small farm on the edge of the

town--once the pride of his heart--began to look forlorn and deserted;

for Phineas, when not actually driving his automobile, was usually to be

found hanging over it with wrench and polishing cloth. He bought little

food and less clothing, but always--gasolene. And he talked to any one

who would listen about automobiles in general and his own in particular,

learnedly dropping in frequent references to cylinders, speed, horse

power, vibrators, carburetors, and spark plugs.

As for Diantha--she went to bed every night with thankfulness that she

possessed her complement of limbs and senses, and she rose every morning

with a fear that the coming night would find some of them missing. To

Phineas and the town in general she appeared to be devoted to this

breathless whizzing over the country roads; and wild horses could not

have dragged from her the truth: that she was longing with an

overwhelming longing for the old days of Dolly, dawdling, and peace.

Just where it all would have ended it is difficult to say had not the

automobile itself taken a hand in the game--as automobiles will

sometimes--and played trumps.

It was the first day of the county fair again, and Phineas and Diantha

were on their way home. Straight ahead the road ran between clumps of

green, then unwound in a white ribbon of dust across wide fields and

open meadows.

"Tain't much like last year, is it, Dianthy?" crowed Phineas, shrilly,

in her ear--then something went wrong.

Phineas knew it instantly. The quivering thing beneath them leaped into

new life--but a life of its own. It was no longer a slave, but a master.

Phineas's face grew white. Thus far he had been able to keep to the

road, but just ahead there was a sharp curve, and he knew he could not

make the turn--something was the matter with the steering-gear.

"Look out--she's got the bits in her teeth!" he shouted. "She's bolted!"

There came a scream, a sharp report, and a grinding crash--then silence.

* * * * *

From away off in the dim distance Phineas heard a voice.

"Phineas! Phineas!"

Something snapped, and he seemed to be floating up, up, up, out of the

black oblivion of nothingness. He tried to speak, but he knew that he

made no sound.

"Phineas! Phineas!"

The voice was nearer now, so near that it seemed just above him. It

sounded like--With a mighty effort he opened his eyes; then full

consciousness came. He was on the ground, his head in Diantha's lap.

Diantha, bonnet crushed, neck-bow askew, and coat torn, was bending over

him, calling him frantically by name. Ten feet away the wrecked

automobile, tip-tilted against a large maple tree, completed the

picture.

With a groan Phineas closed his eyes and turned away his head.

"She's all stove up--an' now you won't ever say yes," he moaned. "You

wanted ter ride on an' on furever!"

"But I will--I don't--I didn't mean it," sobbed Diantha incoherently.

"I'd rather have Dolly twice over. I _like_ ter crawl. Oh, Phineas,

I hate that thing--I've always hated it! I'll say yes next

week--to-morrow--to-day if you'll only open your eyes and tell me you

ain't a-dyin'!"

Phineas was not dying, and he proved it promptly and effectually, even

to the doubting Diantha's blushing content. And there their rescuers

found them a long half-hour later--a blissful old man and a happy old

woman sitting hand in hand by the wrecked automobile.

"I cal'lated somebody'd be along purty soon," said Phineas, rising

stiffly. "Ye see, we've each got a foot that don't go, so we couldn't

git help; but we hain't minded the wait--not a mite!"

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