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Bibliographic Information
Author
Lavell, Edith
Genre
Fiction
Journal or Book
The Girl Scouts‘ Motor Trip
Publisher
A. L. Burt Company
Year of Publication
1924
Pages
Chapters 1-3
Additional information
-
Chapter 1 - A Challenge [ edit ]
Marjorie Wilkinson and Lily Andrews sauntered down the hall of the dormitory towards their rooms, humming tunes and dragging their hockey sticks along the floor behind them. They were enjoying a particularly jubilant mood, for their team had just been victorious; the sophomores of Turner College had succeeded in defeating the juniors in a closely contested game of hockey. And Marjorie and Lily both played on the team.
As they paused at the door of their sitting-room, Florence Evans, a member of the old senior patrol of Pansy Troop of Girls Scouts, and now a freshman at college, came out to meet them. She had run in for news of the game, and finding the girls away, had decided to await their return.
“Who won?” she demanded, without any ceremony.
“We did!” announced Lily, triumphantly. “Naturally—with such a captain!” She nodded proudly towards Marjorie.
“Congratulations!” cried Florence, seizing both girls by the hands and leading them back to the room. “Now—tell me all about it!”
Marjorie had scarcely begun her account of the thrilling match when she was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of Alice Endicott, another freshman who had been a Girl Scout of the same troop, looking as if she carried the most startling news in the world. Naturally vivacious, her cheeks glowed and her eyes shone with even greater brilliancy than usual. The girls stopped talking instantly, aware that her excitement was not due to any event so ordinary as a hockey game.
“Girls!” she flung out. “Guess what?”
“What?” they all demanded at once.
Alice waved an open letter before their eyes.
“The most magnificent thing has happened—”
“To you?” interrupted Florence, who always wanted to be explicit.
“To us —all of us—of the senior patrol. A plan for this summer!”
“The scouts aren’t to get together again, are they?” cried Marjorie, jumping up and going over towards Alice, as if she wanted at a single glance to learn the contents of that mysterious letter.
“Have you found a baby, or only a boot-legger?” asked Lily, laughingly. “Because it’s too late to get our tea-house back again, after the money’s all spent!”
“Neither of those things,” replied Alice. “Only a rich relation.”
“Why the ‘only’?” inquired Florence. “I think that’s almost enough. But tell us about it. How does it concern us?”
“Just wait till you hear!” laughed Alice, turning to her letter again.
“Well, do let us hear!” begged Lily, impatiently. “We’re waiting.”
Alice seated herself upon the couch and paused a moment before she started upon her explanation, as if to make the situation more dramatic. At last she began.
“Of course you know our family are all in modest circumstances, but it seems that there is this one wealthy relative—an elderly, maiden aunt on my father’s side. I have never seen her, because she has lived in California during all of my life, but naturally I had heard of her before. She never took any interest in us, however, and always said she was going to leave all of her money to her two nephews whom she is raising.
“Well, I hardly thought she knew of my existence, when suddenly, out of a clear sky, I got this letter from her with its thrilling proposition. She must have learned somewhere of the work we did last summer, and of our reason for doing it, and she was impressed. She evidently never knew any Girl Scouts before, or in fact any girls who were interested in anything so worth while as a sick mother or a tea-house. So, lo and behold, she writes to me and tells me she wants to make my acquaintance—and not only mine, but that of the whole patrol!”
“But we can’t go out west, Alice!” interrupted Marjorie, jumping at her meaning. “We couldn’t possibly afford it.”
“No,” added Florence, “I was thinking of looking for a job for the summer.”
“Wait till you hear the rest of it!” said Alice. “We won’t need any money. Aunt Emeline is offering to pay all our expenses, if we motor to California !”
“Motor!” repeated Marjorie. “We girls? By ourselves—?”
driving West
“No; we may, in fact, we must have a chaperone.”
“It would be a wonderful thing to do!” exclaimed Florence, contrasting the pleasures of such a delightful excursion with the routine duties of an office position, such as she had planned for herself. “But is it possible?”
“Why not?” demanded Alice. “Lots of girls have done it before—I’ve even read accounts of their trips in the magazines, telling all about what to take, and how much it costs.”
“But they are always older girls than we are!” objected Lily.
“Girl Scouts can do anything any other girls can do!” asserted Marjorie with pride. “I’m sure we could make the trip. Now, tell me again, please, Alice: just which of us are invited?”
“All the girls who took part in last summer’s work at the tea-house,” replied Alice. “That means us four, Daisy Gravers, Ethel Todd, Marie Louise Harris—and—Doris and Mae if they want to.”
“‘If they want to’ is good!” laughed Marjorie. “Imagine those two brides leaving their husbands for a two months’ trip!”
“Of course you could hardly expect Mae to,” admitted Alice; “she’s quite too recent a bride. But Doris will have been married a year.”
“But she and Roger are just as spoony as ever!” interrupted Lily. “No, I’m afraid we can’t count on them. But the other three girls probably will.”
“To continue,” said Alice: “you know that I told you my aunt is queer—a little ‘off’ we always considered her. Well, she goes on to add that we must make the trip inside of six weeks, follow the Lincoln Highway, not spend more than a certain sum of money she is depositing in my name, and—the last is worst of all—”
“What?” demanded two or three of the scouts at once.
“We are not to accept help of any men along the way!”
The girls all burst out laughing immediately at the absurdity of such a suggestion. Yet there was not one among them who doubted that she could fulfill the conditions.
“And what happens if we do take assistance?” asked Florence, when the merriment had subsided. “Do we have to pay for our own trip?”
“No, but the guilty girls have to go home,” replied Alice.
“Can’t you just see us dropping one by one ‘by the wayside’” remarked Lily, “because we accept masculine chivalry. Really, it will be hard—”
“Oh, we can do it!” said Marjorie, with her usual assurance. She put down her hockey stick and went over to the tea-table to make tea. The subject was too interesting to allow her guests to depart.
highway infrastructure
“Tell us more,” urged Florence.
“The best is yet to come,” said Alice, her eyes sparkling with pleasure, because of the further revelation she was about to make. “There is a reward at the end!”
“A reward!” repeated Marjorie. “As if the trip itself weren’t enough—”
“Yes, this is the marvelous part. If we fulfill all the conditions, and reach Aunt Emeline’s house by midnight of August first, each girl is to receive a brand-new runabout, for her very own!”
“What? What?” demanded all the girls at the same time, unable to believe their ears.
“Shall we accept the offer?” continued Alice.
“Shall we?” cried Florence. “As if there were any doubt!” She jumped up and gave Alice an ecstatic little squeeze.
The other girls were just as enthusiastic, and they discussed the affair from every angle, while they drank Marjorie’s tea and nibbled at some nabiscoes which Lily produced from her cake box. When they came to the selection of a chaperone, they were all unanimous in their desire to have Mrs. Remington.
“But would she leave her husband for such a long time?” asked Lily, doubtfully.
“It wouldn’t be a question of leaving him,” answered Marjorie. “Because he has to go to some sort of Boy Scout camp this summer for the months of July and August—she told me about it in her last letter. So she might be very glad of the invitation.”
“Then that settles that,” said Alice. “Marj, will you write immediately?”
“I certainly will, and I’ll write home for permission for myself at the same time.”
“Marj!” exclaimed Lily, suddenly. “What about the Hadleys? Didn’t you promise that you’d go to the seashore—?”
Marjorie blushed, remembering the time she had told John Hadley that she would spend her vacation with him and his mother, and had disappointed him to go on the ranch. Luckily, however, no definite plans had been agreed upon as yet for this summer.
“No, thank goodness I didn’t promise,” she replied. “But,” she added teasingly, “how can you ever exist all that time without seeing Dick Roberts?”
Her room-mate only laughed good-naturedly at the thrust; she was used to being taunted about the frequency of this young man’s visits.
“I can get along very well without any young man,” she replied, boastfully. “I’m not Doris—or Mae Van Horn!”
“Mae Melville, you mean,” corrected Alice, for they all had difficulty in calling the girl by her new name, of which she had been in possession only a month. “Wasn’t it funny,” she added, “that Mae caught Doris’s bouquet at the wedding, and sure enough was the first to get married! Just as if there were something to the old superstition after all!”
“It was, and it wasn’t, odd,” reasoned Marjorie; “because after all it was very natural for Doris and Mae to be the first girls married from our patrol. They didn’t have so much to keep them occupied as we college girls have—and they had more time to think about such things.”
“Implying,” remarked Florence, “that if you weren’t busy here, you’d be marrying John Hadley, and Lily, Dick Roberts, and—”
“That will do, Flos!” remonstrated Marjorie. “You don’t have to apply every generalization personally. But, seriously, it is a fact that college girls usually marry later in life than those who just stay at home like Doris.”
“But Mae didn’t stay home! She had a job.”
“Now don’t let’s have an argument on a college girl’s chances versus those of a business woman!” protested Lily. “And by the way, wasn’t it too bad that we couldn’t any of us be at Mae’s wedding to see who would catch the bride’s bouquet! We won’t know who will be the next victim!”
“Maybe we’ll all be old maids,” laughed Marjorie. “At any rate, I don’t think any of us will be running off soon, since we’re all six in college. And that reminds me, haven’t we four been mean to go on talking about this marvelous proposition, and not make any attempt to go get Daisy—”
“I’ll go for her this instant!” volunteered Alice, jumping immediately to her feet. “It is a shame—”
She was off in a moment, skipping down the hall like a happy child.
It was not long before she returned with Daisy Gravers, another Girl Scout of the patrol, and the subject was discussed all over again with a thoroughness that omitted no details. The girls’ only regret was that Ethel Todd, a junior at Bryn Mawr, could not be present to hear all about it.
“I’ll write to her,” said Alice. “Then, if we can all six go—and Mrs. Remington—”
“And maybe Marie Louise,” put in Daisy.
“We’ll need several cars,” concluded Lily, who always did things sumptuously.
“Two ought to be enough,” said Florence. “But say, girls, why couldn’t we leave our planning until Doris’s house-party? Then we’ll all be together, and will know definitely whether or not we can go.”
“But the boys will be such an interruption!” sighed Lily. “You can’t get a thing done with them around.”
“Oh, we’ll shut them out of our conferences,” announced Marjorie, coolly. “We must accustom ourselves to getting along without the opposite sex if we are to make a success of our trip.”
“And yet it is a pity,” remarked Alice, “after all they did for us last summer at the tea-house!”
“Yes, maybe if it weren’t for them we wouldn’t have become famous and received this scrumptious invitation,” surmised Daisy.
car
“What I can’t understand,” mused Florence, who had been carefully considering every aspect of the offer, “is why your aunt should want us to make the trip independent of all masculine assistance. Especially when, as you say, Alice, she shows such preference for her two nephews.”
“Oh, it’s just an idea of hers—a notion that she’s taken, I suppose,” replied Alice. “When you’re awfully rich and awfully old, you sometimes do crazy things just for the novelty of it.”
“My, what a philosopher you are!” joked Florence. “You sound as if you had been both old and rich!”
“My theory,” put in Marjorie, “is that it has something to do with the nephews. She has probably boasted of our work last summer, and perhaps the boys belittled it. So I think this might be a kind of wager.”
“That sounds plausible!” exclaimed Lily. “Well, let’s do all in our power to make the old lady win.”
“And yet,” interposed Florence, “she may be on the other side, hoping we don’t live up to the conditions. It would certainly be cheaper for her if we fell down—”
“Girls, I think you’re all wrong,” said Daisy. “I think she is just a lovely old lady, who has read about our work, and wants to reward us. But she thinks we’ll appreciate our cars more if we earn them, and that’s the reason she put on all these conditions.”
“Come, we’re not getting anywhere!” interrupted Florence, “and the time’s passing.” A glance at her watch assured her that the supper hour was imminent.
“Meet here day after tomorrow,” suggested Marjorie, as the girls rose to take their leave; “and try to have your parents’ permission by then.”
“We’ll have it!” cried two or three of the girls. “We wouldn’t miss this chance for the world!”
Chapter 2 - Together Again [ edit ]
Two weeks after Alice Endicott had received her startling invitation to visit her aunt at the latter’s expense, Doris Harris sat in the living-room of her cozy little Philadelphia house, awaiting the arrival of all the girls concerned. The party was to be a week-end one, half of the girls staying at her house, and half at the home of her sister-in-law, Marie Louise Harris, with whom they had lived during the preceding summer while conducting the tea-room.
Doris looked about the attractively furnished room, with its shining white paint and snowy curtains, its delft blue hangings and upholstery, and smiled contentedly to herself. It would have been pleasant, she thought, to go to college, along with the majority of the girls of the senior patrol; but it could not have been nearly so wonderful as to be married to the best man in the world, and to possess such a dear little home of her own. And, after all, there would always be occasions like this when she could manage to be with the girls again.
She heard a light step on the porch but she did not put down her fancy work to go to the door, for she recognized it as belonging to her sister-in-law. The girls were so intimate that neither considered stopping to ring the bell at the other’s home. A moment later Marie Louise opened the door.
“Anybody here yet?” she asked, crossing the room to give Doris her customary kiss.
“No, not yet,” replied her hostess. “I sort of expect that the five girls from Turner College will come together. But Ethel Todd will come by herself.”
Marie Louise disappeared into the dining-room for a minute and returned carrying a vase of roses, which she had arranged most artistically in a wide blue china bowl. She set it down upon the table, hardly listening to Doris’s thanks for the flowers, so eager was she to talk of the latest development.
“Tell me more about this new idea—is it Alice’s or Marjorie’s?—I haven’t got the gist of it yet. Ethel Todd called me up on the telephone, but the connection was so poor—”
“I really don’t know myself,” replied Doris; “except that it is a trip of some sort, and Alice’s aunt is paying the expenses. None of the girls wrote to me in detail, because they all assumed that I couldn’t go.”
“Well, you wouldn’t, would you?”
“No, of course not,” replied Doris, laughingly. “I’d be too homesick. But how about you, Marie Louise?”
“Unfortunately I’ve arranged to go on studying all summer. You know I spoke of some such plan—well, I had already made my arrangements before Ethel called me up. But I am crazy to see the girls and hear all about it.”
She seated herself upon the wide window-sill so that she might catch the first sight of her friends when they arrived. But she did not have long to wait; in less than ten minutes Ethel Todd put in an appearance. Both girls jumped up joyfully and hurried to the door.
“Aren’t the others here yet?” asked Ethel, as soon as the greetings had subsided.
“No, not yet,” replied Doris. “But they won’t be long and they’re all coming together. Now—come on upstairs, Ethel, and put your hat and coat away, for I want you to stay here. You know,” she explained laughingly, “I have only room enough to put up three of the girls, so three will have to stay at Marie Louise’s.”
She led the way up the mahogany and white staircase to the dainty little guest room at the rear of the second story, a boudoir such as any girl would love, furnished in cream-colored painted furniture, with pink floral decorations and pink and cream curtains at the windows. Ethel admired it profusely.
“And did you work that bed-spread yourself?” she asked, examining closely the applique work in a flower design, upon unbleached muslin. “It’s simply too pretty to sleep on.”
“Oh, it will wash!” laughed Doris. “Yes, I did make it myself. I love to do fancy-work.” Then, in the same breath, “Now tell us all about the trip. I’m tremendously interested.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know a whole lot myself—just the bare facts that you know. But wait till Marj and Alice get here—they’ll tell us everything. By the way, is everybody coming?”
“Everybody but Mae,” replied Doris. “You could hardly expect so recent a bride. In fact,” she added, “I didn’t even invite her. I knew it would be of no use.”
“And she’s too far away-way out there in Ohio,” said Ethel. “I’m afraid we won’t see much of her any more.”
They descended the staircase just in time to see, through the glass door, a taxi stop in front of the house. A moment later five merry, laughing girls jumped out of the machine and skipped up the porch steps. Marjorie Wilkinson, the last to enter the house on account of the delay in paying the driver, decided to make up for lost time, and seized Ethel, Doris, and Marie Louise all at once in one inclusive hug.
taxi
“We’re all here!” she cried, joyfully. “Together now—and together all summer! Isn’t it marvelous?”
“Yes, if only Mae were here,” said Lily, who never could forget the absent members.
“And if Doris and I could go with you,” sighed Marie Louise.
“You can’t go?” asked Alice, her face clouding. “Oh, why not, Marie Louise? Are you going to get married too?”
“No, indeed,” replied the other girl, laughingly. “But I am keeping on at art school this summer.”
“What a shame!” cried several of the others at once. They were all genuinely fond of this girl who was the latest addition to their number.
Without even removing their hats, the girls all dropped into chairs in the living-room and continued to talk fast and furiously about their proposed trip. It seemed that all of the college girls were planning to go; and Marjorie’s announcement of Mrs. Remington’s acceptance added another cause for rejoicing. Their only regret was that their two hostesses and Mae Melville could not go.
“I honestly feel sorry for you married people!” teased Florence. “To think that you have to miss all the fun—”
“But there are compensations,” Doris reminded her. “Maybe we feel sorry for you!”
“Now Doris, we won’t stand for that!” retorted Alice. “And anyhow—”
“Anyhow what?” demanded the other, as Alice paused in the middle of her remark.
“Anyhow some of us may have gone over to your side by the time we come back. I expect some of the girls to fall for my cousins—”
But Marjorie put an end to their bantering by a call to the practical.
“That makes seven of us to go,” she said, using her fingers for the calculation. “I should think that two machines would really be enough.”
“Yes,” answered Alice, “because we are to travel light. I forgot to tell you that one of my aunt’s stipulations is that we wear our Girl Scout uniforms all the time. We can express our trunks ahead, packed with the clothing we want to wear after we get to California.”
“Then everybody will know we’re scouts?” asked Florence.
“Yes; you don’t mind, do you?”
“I’m proud of it!” replied the other, loyally.
“If you take a big seven-passenger car,” said Lily, “wouldn’t it be possible to take my Rolls as a second? It really runs wonderfully.”
“It would do beautifully,” answered Marjorie; and all the others approved her decision.
“Do we camp along the way, or do we expect to stop at inns and hotels?” asked Ethel.
“Both,” replied Alice. “You see we have to be a little bit economical because Aunt Emeline is only allowing us a certain amount for our trip; and if we spend any more, even though it is our own money, we forfeit our reward. So we must be rather thrifty.”
car car model West
“I think it’s more fun to camp, anyhow,” said Marjorie. “Imagine Girl Scouts running to hotels all along the way! Though it will be nice to stop every once in a while and get a real bath!”
“Oh, you’ll have to go to a hotel in the big cities,” put in Doris, who took as much interest in the affair as if she were going herself.
“The funniest thing is going to be refusing any help from men we happen to meet along the road,” remarked Daisy. “I’m afraid some of them may think we’re terribly rude.”
“And suppose we get in such a tight place we simply can’t get out,” suggested Ethel. “What are we to do?”
“Walk miles to a garage, or trust to some women tourists to give us a lift,” answered Marjorie, firmly.
“Trust us! Girl Scouts don’t give up easily.”
“But remember,” put in Daisy, who was still a little dubious as to the success of the undertaking, “that we always had our own Boy Scouts to help us before. And now we’ll be miles away!” she sighed regretfully.
“We wouldn’t call on them if they were right behind us!” asserted Marjorie. “Oh, it’s going to be great fun—so much more than if we were all wealthy, and could just take the trip as we pleased, without any terms being dictated! It means that we’ve got one more chance to show what Girl Scouts can do!”
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“Well, your aunt certainly must be a queer one to think up all these conditions,” observed Doris.
“Oh, she hasn’t much to do,” said Alice, “except to think about those two nephews who are her heirs. I guess we’ve given her a new interest.”
“What does she look like?” asked Florence.
“I don’t know; the only picture we have is one of those old-fashioned things in a family album. She was eighteen then, and looked thirty-eight. You know the kind that I mean. But I have always imagined that she resembled that fake lieutenant those boys we met on the train fixed up for our benefit the summer we went on the ranch.”
“Speaking of boys,” interrupted Doris, “they will soon be here. And you girls won’t even have your hats off—let alone be dressed. Don’t you think we had better adjourn to our rooms, especially the girls who have to go over to Marie Louise’s?”
“Right you are, Doris!” exclaimed all of her guests, hastening to carry out her suggestion.
But if Doris thought that the presence of the boys at dinner that evening would put a damper upon the discussion of the project, she was mistaken. The boys, among whom were Jack Wilkinson, John Hadley, and Dick Roberts—all intimate friends of the girls—already knew something of the plans and showed their interest by a succession of questions. John and Dick both looked anything but pleased.
“Why couldn’t you do something in Philadelphia?” asked Dick, sulkily. “We had such a bully time last summer!”
“Why don’t you take a motor trip to the coast?” returned Florence. “Last year we came to you—this year you come with us! Turn about is fair play!”
“Don’t suggest it!” protested Alice, alarmed at the very mention of such a thing. “We’d never earn our cars with the boys following in our trail.”
“People!” exclaimed Marjorie, suddenly struck by an inspiration. “I know something fine! It has just occurred to me that Mae lives in a town on the Lincoln Highway—the way we will undoubtedly go to the coast. And she has urged us all to visit her—so couldn’t we stop on our way out, and maybe you boys join us for a week-end?”
“Where does she live?” asked Jack, doubtfully. He was not sure of being able to get away from the office whenever he desired.
“Lima—in Ohio,” replied Doris. “It isn’t awfully far.”
“But would it be right for a big crowd like this to descend upon her all at once?” inquired Daisy.
“Mae wouldn’t mind,” Doris hastened to assure her. “You know she has a rather large house—and two servants—for Tom Melville has plenty of this world’s goods. In fact, I think she may be a little lonely, and would be overjoyed to see you.”
“Then that settles it!” cried Marjorie. “I’ll write tomorrow and invite ourselves.”
“But how do you know when to set the date for?” asked Florence.
“We’ll have to work it all out by mathematics,” replied the latter. “There’s a lot of planning to be done, and equipment to be bought. We’ll have to name a committee.”
“I propose you as chairman,” said Lily, immediately. “Because you’re our lieutenant—and you can pick your own committee.”
“I second that motion!” exclaimed Ethel.
highway infrastructure West
Just at this point Marjorie’s brother commenced to chuckle to himself, as if he were enjoying some private joke.
“Tell us, Jack, so we can have some fun,” suggested Ethel.
“Oh, it’s nothing!” replied Jack. “Only—well, I don’t want to be a kill-joy, or anything like that, you know; but I just couldn’t help but think how funny it would be if somebody were playing a practical joke on you all.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Marjorie.
“Why, suppose you went ahead and made all your plans and bought a lot of things, and then found out in the end that the letter was all a joke—”
“You mean that you don’t believe that I have an Aunt Emeline?” interrupted Alice.
“No, not that. With due respect to your aunt, you must admit it’s a mighty unusual proposal for her to make to a bunch of girls she never saw, no matter if she is as rich as all get out. The proposition’s wild enough, but the idea of her giving each girl a runabout as a reward if she wins through—that’s what gets me.”
“Anyone rich enough and crazy enough to pay our expenses would be crazy enough to do anything,” said Alice.
“And she probably doesn’t expect us to win,” put in Florence.
“Well, I’d wait till I saw a check for those expenses, if I were you; then, if it turned out to be a joke, you wouldn’t be so much out of pocket. That’s what I mean!”
“Silly! As if we haven’t thought of those things!” exclaimed his sister. “I’ve been pinching myself every day, expecting to wake up from a dream—until Alice wrote a letter saying we could go, and then received that check by return mail. Think up some other excuse to keep us home, Jackie; that one won’t work.”
“You needn’t worry about the money, Jack,” explained Alice. “It’s safely deposited in bank to my account!”
“Well, anyway,” Jack replied, “I object to this party’s being turned into a business meeting. Let’s forget it—and dance!”
“Jack is right,” agreed Doris. Then, turning to her husband, “Put on a record, Roger, and let’s begin.”
The remainder of the evening passed entirely to the boys’ satisfaction.
Chapter 3 - Planning The Trip [ edit ]
If talking about the summer’s excursion could have hastened the date of the event, the weeks would have passed in rapid succession, for the Girl Scouts never grew tired of discussing its every aspect. Whenever two or three of them were together the conversation drifted inevitably to this one all important topic; at other times, when lessons were put aside for the evening or a Sunday afternoon offered an opportunity for rest, the five scouts would gather together in Marjorie’s sitting-room to talk of their plans. Sometimes they would discuss the country through which they were to motor, and read descriptions from books about the scenery; at other times they would be concerned with the actual problems of the trip; but invariably they would end up with the contemplation of their reward, giving expression to their dreams of owning motor-cars of their own. To the poorer girls the idea was too entrancing ever to lose its novelty; Florence and Daisy would talk for hours of the trips they meant to take, the people they would invite to go riding with them, the pleasure and the service they intended to give. Had it not been for these hours of happy anticipation the time would have seemed to pass slowly; all of the girls—even Marjorie, who was usually too busy to be bored—grew impatient of the months that intervened.
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But at last the college term neared its close, and the scouts began to make definite preparations for their excursion. Marjorie selected her committee and planned to buy the equipment in Philadelphia, a week or so before the time to start.
She had commissioned John Hadley to order the other automobile—a seven passenger touring car—and had thereby won an invitation for herself and Alice and Lily (the other two members of her committee) to stay with Mrs. Hadley while they were in Philadelphia. Recalling the pleasure and the convenience of a similar visit the preceding summer, when she was buying equipment for the tea-room, she accepted the invitation gratefully for herself and her companions.
“I’m so glad I’m a member of this committee,” remarked Lily as their train pulled into Philadelphia; “so that we will have this week together. For I think it is going to be lots of fun.”
“If it’s anything like last year it will,” returned Marjorie.
“Ah, but remember that we had the boys then to make things lively,” observed Alice.
“Well, we have them now. Aren’t we staying at John’s home—and isn’t my brother Jack working right here in Philadelphia—and ready to help us at any minute? And—” Marjorie glanced slyly at Lily—“I dare say Lil might be able to locate Dick Roberts if we needed him!”
“It’s time to get our gloves on!” was all the reply her jest drew from Lily. “We’re slowing up already.”´
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Five minutes later the girls were seated in John Hadley’s Ford, driving through the city to the suburbs where his mother’s home was located. Marjorie as usual was in high spirits, but again John experienced that intangible sensation of jealousy because her happiness seemed to be caused rather by her bright expectations than by his mere presence. While she was asking him about the new car, he suddenly sighed audibly; somehow he felt that as long as the Girl Scouts continued to plan these novel undertakings, he would never hold anything but second place in Marjorie’s interest. The girl noticed the sigh, and asked him whether she were boring him.
“Of course not!” he declared emphatically. “As if you ever could—”
“Then what is it?” she asked sympathetically.
“Only that I wish that I were a Girl Scout—to merit more of your attention.”
Marjorie laughed merrily; she did not believe that the young man was in earnest.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she persisted. “Has the car come yet?”
“Yes; it’s in our garage.”
“Oh, goody! Drive fast then, John. It seems as if I can’t wait a minute to see it!”
Obedient to her command he put on all his power, in defiance of the speed laws in the city, and reached home in an incredibly short time for a Ford. Marjorie waited only to pay her respects to Mrs. Hadley; then without even removing her hat, she followed John’s machine out to the garage. There she found the new possession, shining and bright and handsome with its fresh paint and polished metal.
affect car car model city driver driving garage law passenger scenery speed
“Let’s get in and drive it immediately!” she cried. “I think it’s the most beautiful car I ever saw!”
“Not the most beautiful,” corrected Lily. “At least I wouldn’t admit it could compare with my Rolls-Royce—”
“Or my Ford!” put in John, and the girls all laughed.
“It will be great to drive into town every day to do our shopping,” remarked Alice. “Won’t we feel grand—?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be very satisfactory,” said John. “On account of the parking rules. You can’t leave a machine alone, you know; you would have to put it into a garage.”
“We can easily do that,” remarked Alice, airily. “Money is scarcely a consideration with us now!”
“Doesn’t that sound fine?” laughed Marjorie. “I guess it’s the first time in our lives that we were ever able to say that.”
“And probably the last time,” added Lily. “Unless some of us marry those rich heirs of your aunt, Alice!”
John glanced up apprehensively at this suggestion.
“What’s this about rich heirs?” he asked, with so much concern that all three of the girls burst into laughter.
“You’ll probably never see Marjorie again!” teased Alice. “When we meet these two cousins of mine who are destined to inherit all of Aunt Emeline’s money, Marj will just fall for them. And of course they’ll fall for her!”
“Oh, of course!” said Marjorie, sarcastically.
“Maybe some of us fellows had better take the trip in my tin Lizzie after all,” observed John.
“Nothing doing!” protested Marjorie, emphatically. “We’d be sure to break our rule not to accept help from men along the way. And then we’d forfeit our trip, and our reward at the end, too.”
“Well, I hope you don’t have any accidents along the way,” said John. “Though I do hate to think of you girls all by yourselves, so far away!”
“Oh, you needn’t worry,” Alice reassured him. “Don’t forget we’re not just ordinary girls. We’re Girl Scouts!”
affect car car model driving garage law parking
By dint of much persuasion, Marjorie was induced to leave the garage and go into the house. Here she found new sources of interest; Mrs. Hadley had collected catalogues of sporting goods and books of advice upon motoring and crossing the country, and had piled them all upon the table in the living-room. The girls literally dived for them as soon as they realized what they were.
“Of course we’ll need tents,” said Marjorie, turning immediately to the fascinating displays that were shown by the various dealers represented in the catalogues.
“And look at these cunning little folding stoves!” cried Lily, pointing to an illustration that captured her eye.
“Don’t forget dishes!” put in Alice. “They ought to be tin or aluminum—”
“You better carry a revolver apiece,” cautioned John.
“I don’t know about that,” remarked his mother. “The books and articles that I have read on the subject say that it is not necessary to carry that sort of protection. There is usually an unfailing courtesy to be found along the road, particularly in the west.”
“But we have to go through the east to get to the west,” sighed Lily; “and it will be just our luck to encounter all sorts of obstacles—ghosts, or bootleggers, or bandits—just because we want so desperately to get there safely.”
“But that only makes it so much more fun!” returned Marjorie.
“Yes, I know you love danger, Marj. But one day you’ll love it too much. Sometimes it seems as if you almost court difficulties.”
“Still, we always gain by them in the end!” she replied, triumphantly.
“I’m more concerned about the little troubles—something going wrong with the car, for instance,” said Alice. “And I’m so afraid we’ll some of us be weak, and accept help, and—”
“And be sent home like bad children!” supplied Marjorie.
“Wouldn’t it be funny,” observed John, “if you would come home one by one until only Alice was left to return the car to her aunt! I’m afraid that I would just have to laugh!”
“Well, if you did, you never need come around us again!” snapped Marjorie. “Girl Scouts wouldn’t want to see you—”
“Then I promise to shed tears!” interrupted the young man, hastily.
“However, nothing like that is going to happen,” said Marjorie, conclusively. “We’re going across the continent with flying colors, as all Girl Scouts could, if they had the chance. It’s the opportunity of a life-time!”
car East risk West equipment
The girls turned again to their catalogues, and made long lists of articles, stopping every few minutes to discuss flash-lights, spare-tires, khaki breeches, in fact anything that came into their minds or to their notice. Alice’s aunt had told them that she would stand the expenditures for the equipment, and they were only afraid that they would buy more than they could comfortably carry.
Nor did this danger grow any less during the next few days when they actually beheld the things themselves in the stores. Alice and Lily both wanted to spend lavishly; it was Marjorie who laid the restraining hand upon them.
At the end of three days their purchasing was completed; there yet remained the more difficult task of mapping out the trip. Authorities seemed generally to recommend the Lincoln Highway as a good route across the continent, so the girls were glad that their benefactor had stipulated this road.
They planned to start from Philadelphia on the fifteenth of June, aiming to reach their destination by the first of August.
highway infrastructure navigation
“Provided we traveled one hundred miles a day, which really is not a tiring distance, we ought to be able to make the trip in thirty days,” Marjorie estimated. “And that will give us fifteen days surplus.”
“We can surely afford three days at Mae’s,” announced Lily. “And perhaps we could visit some other school or college friends along the way.”
But Marjorie shook her head decidedly.
“No,” she said; “I am willing to visit Mae, but nobody else. We shall need every one of those twelve remaining days. Suppose we have to stop for repairs, or get lost, or are held up by a bad storm—”
“That will do, Calamity Jane!” exclaimed Alice, putting her hand over Marjorie’s mouth. “We don’t expect any misfortunes at all!”
“No, we don’t expect them, but we don’t want to lose our cars just because we didn’t allow enough time.”
“Marj!” exclaimed John, suddenly. “I have it! If you get in trouble, wire for us, and we’ll put on skirts! We used that disguise effectively last year—why not now?”
The girl gazed at him mournfully.
“Too bad, John, but it couldn’t be done! Unfortunately we’ll be on our honor now, and we’d know you were boys. Unless—” she smiled at the idea—“unless you were clever enough to deceive us!”
“Nobody’s clever enough to deceive you, Marjorie! Not that I want to, but—”
“Speaking of deception,” interrupted Alice, “I have been wondering how my aunt is going to be sure that we do live up to her conditions. She doesn’t know us, or anything about our characters.”
“Maybe she wrote to college for references,” suggested Marjorie. “Or maybe she knows the high standards of all Girl Scouts.”
“Let us hope so!” said John. “But perhaps she knows about Alice, and judges you all from her.”
“Anyhow,” concluded Marjorie, “we’ll send her a detailed plan of our trip, so she can check us up if she wants to. Then we’ll go ahead, with the motto of ‘do or die’!”
car driving
Bibliographic Information
Author
Oppenheim, James
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Songs for the New Age
Publisher
The Century Co.
Year of Publication
1914
Pages
90-91
Additional information
-
city urban
Where may she of the hall bedroom hold the love-hour?
In what sweet privacy find her soul before the face of the belovéd?
And the kiss that lifts her from the noise of the shop,
And the bitter carelessness of the streets?
Neither is there garden nor secret parlor for her:
And cruel winter has spoiled the shores of the sea;
The benches in the park are laden with melting snow,
And the bedroom forbidden...
But ah, the love of a woman! She will not be cheated!
Up the stoop she went to the vestibule of the house,
And beckoned to me to come to that darkness of doors:
Here in a crevice of the public city the love-hour was spent...
Outside rumbled the cars between drifts of the gas-lit snow,
And the footsteps fell of the wanderers in the night...
Within, the dark house slept...
But we, in our little cave, stood, and saw in the gleaming dark
Shine of each other’s eyes, and the flutter of wisps of hair,
And our words were breathlessly sweet, and our kisses silent...
car sound night snow
Where is there rose-garden,
Where is there balcony among the cedars and pines,
Where is there moonlit clearing in the dumb wilderness,
Enchanted as this doorway, dark in the glare of the city? +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Oppenheim, James
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Songs for the New Age
Publisher
The Century Co.
Year of Publication
1914
Pages
83-84
Additional information
-
You and I in the night, spied on by stars...
You and I in the belovéd night...
You and I within these walls.
A breath from the sea is kissing the housetops of the city,
Kissing the roofs,
And dying into silence.
Earth and stars are in a trance,
They dream of passion, but cannot break their sleep.
They pass into us, and we are their passion, we are their madness,
So shaped that we can kiss and clasp...
One kiss, then death, the miracle being spent.
Watchman, what of the night?
Sleep and birth! Toil and death!
Now the light of the topmost tower winks red and ceases:
Now the lonely car echoes afar off...
Helen looked over the wine-dark seas of Greece, and she was young.
But not younger than we, touching each other, while dawn delays...
car sound night intertext
Dare we betray this moment?
Dare we die, missing this fire?
Whither goes massive Earth tonight, flying with the stars down eternity?
We are alive: we are for each other. +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Oppenheim, James
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Songs for the New Age
Publisher
The Century Co.
Year of Publication
1914
Pages
23
Additional information
-
Of old the psalmist said that the morning stars sing together,
He said the rocks do sing and that the hills rejoice...
There be ten million ears in this little city alone...
How many have heard the rocks, the hills and the stars?
Not I, not I, as I hurried uptown and downtown!
I heard the wheels of the cars, the chatter of many mouths,
I was in the opera house when it seemed almost to burst with music,
I heard the laughter of children, and the venom of mixed malicious tongues,
But neither the stars I heard nor the muted rocks nor the hills!
urban car car part sound
David, of Asia, I do hear now...
I do hear now the music of the spheres—
I have stepped one step into the desert of Loneliness,
I have turned my ear from the world to my own self...
I have paused, stood still, listened. +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Reynolds, Elsbery Washington
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
AutoLine o'Type
Publisher
The Book Supply Company
Year of Publication
1924
Pages
17
Additional information
-
When we view the mountains all around,
From their vast stillness not a sound,
They seem just like some silent friend
On whom we safely can depend.
They rise to proud and lofty height,
Forbidding and dark are they at night.
Their summits kiss the heavens high,
They ever remind us God is nigh.
If the mountains were never stationed there,
We would not have the purified air,
Nor would flowing rivers be sustained,
If in the mountains it never rained.
On mountain height both east and west,
For every living mortal there is rest.
We view the peaks in contemplation
Of God's great plan for all creation.
The clouds in glory round them spread,
The sun in grandeur settles on their head.
Winter stays to chill the month of May,
The lightning fondly choose them for their play.
The mountains grim forever stand,
While men will roam about the land.
Men are fond of other men to greet,
Mountains never have been known to meet.
Of the peaks around both high and low,
The one we favor most is San Antonio.
We like to go up there whene'er we can,
It's easy in a Studebaker Six Sedan.
mountain car model
—The Car with Character. +
Bibliographic Information
Author
McKay, Claude
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Harlem Shadows: The Poems of Claude McKay
Publisher
Harcourt , Brace and Company
Year of Publication
1922
Pages
55
Additional information
-
No engines shrieking rescue storm the night,
And hose and hydrant cannot here avail;
The flames laugh high and fling their challenging light,
And clouds turn gray and black from silver-pale.
The fire leaps out and licks the ancient walls,
And the big building bends and twists and groans.
A bar drops from its place; a rafter falls
Burning the flowers. The wind in frenzy moans.
The watchers gaze, held wondering by the fire,
The dwellers cry their sorrow to the crowd,
The flames beyond themselves rise higher, higher,
To lose their glory in the frowning cloud,
Yielding at length the last reluctant breath.
And where life lay asleep broods darkly death.
engine night death +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Reynolds, Elsbery Washington
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
AutoLine o'Type
Publisher
The Book Supply Company
Year of Publication
1924
Pages
25
Additional information
-
nostalgia
Nothing can make our heart so warm,
As visions of where we first were born,
As the memory of that first Christmas tree,
Where the old homestead used to be.
The smile and song and the merry laughter,
That rang from the cellar clear to the rafter,
Each loved one's face we yet can see,
Where the old homestead used to be.
The fires were burning the coals were glowing,
From all of our hearts affection was flowing,
In honor of Him was our Christmas tree,
Where the old homestead used to be.
Pictures of those long passed away,
Hung on the walls and watched our play,
They shared with us in all our glee,
Where the old homestead used to be.
Those hearts of the long ago we treasure,
In the memory with unstinted measure,
All gathered around that Christmas tree,
Where the old homestead used to be.
The beauty that gathered in that dominion,
Was though it had dropped from angel pinion,
For the birth of Him who made us free,
Where the old homestead used to be.
The place to us was one of splendor,
And cherished yet in our memory tender,
And the glory of that first Christmas tree,
Where the old homestead used to be.
Some day again we will see the place,
And, too, in our memory each one's face,
In a Six Studebaker so easy and free,
Where the old homestead used to be.
car model
—The Car with Character. +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Aldington, Richard
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Some Imagist Poets: An Anthology
Publisher
Houghton Mifflin Company
Year of Publication
1915
Pages
10-11
Additional information
-
tree
Why do you always stand there shivering
Between the white stream and the road?
river roadside temperature
The people pass through the dust
On bicycles, in carts, in motor-cars;
The waggoners go by at dawn;
The lovers walk on the grass path at night.
dust bicycle car road scenery
Stir from your roots, walk, poplar!
You are more beautiful than they are.
I know that the white wind loves you,
Is always kissing you and turning up
The white lining of your green petticoat.
The sky darts through you like blue rain,
And the grey rain drips on your flanks
And loves you.
And I have seen the moon
Slip his silver penny into your pocket
As you straightened your hair;
And the white mist curling and hesitating
Like a bashful lover about your knees.
tree
I know you, poplar;
I have watched you since I was ten.
But if you had a little real love,
A little strength,
You would leave your nonchalant idle lovers
And go walking down the white road
Behind the waggoners.
tree anthropomorphism road pedestrian
There are beautiful beeches down beyond the hill.
Will you always stand there shivering? +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Johnson, Helene
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Opportunity: A Journal of Negro Life
Publisher
-
Year of Publication
1926
Pages
225
Additional information
-
Ah, little road all whirry in the breeze,
A leaping clay hill lost among the trees,
The bleeding note of rapture streaming thrush
Caught in a drowsy hush
And stretched out in a single singing line of dusky song.
road wind tree topography
Ah little road, brown as my race is brown,
Your trodden beauty like our trodden pride,
Dust of the dust, they must not bruise you down.
Rise to one brimming golden, spilling cry!
dust road African American +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Sandburg, Carl
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Chicago Poems
Publisher
Henry Holt and Company
Year of Publication
1916
Pages
99
Additional information
-
I shall foot it
Down the roadway in the dusk,
Where shapes of hunger wander
And the fugitives of pain go by.
I shall foot it
In the silence of the morning,
See the night slur into dawn,
Hear the slow great winds arise
Where tall trees flank the way
And shoulder toward the sky.
metaphor pedestrian road sound sky tree wind
The broken boulders by the road
Shall not commemorate my ruin.
Regret shall be the gravel under foot.
I shall watch for
Slim birds swift of wing
That go where wind and ranks of thunder
Drive the wild processionals of rain.
metaphor roadside scenery animal wind rain
The dust of the traveled road
Shall touch my hands and face.
road road condition dust +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Jamison, Roscoe C.
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Negro Soldiers (“These Truly are the Brave”) and other poems by Roscoe C. Jamison
Publisher
Press of the Gray Printing Company
Year of Publication
1918
Pages
-
Additional information
-
metaphor metaphysics
Along the Road of Human Life,
So very near, on either side,
With winds and storms and billows rife,
There is a sea that's wide;
And woe to him who trips and falls
Into that darkening tide.
road
Oh! it is all that Hope can do
To keep lifted our eyes
And day by day our strength renew
With visions and dream-lies;
To lead us by that awful flood
From which no soul may rise.
Despair! Despair! That is the sea
Which ever is at our feet,
Seeks to envelop you and me,
In ruin full, complete,
Cause us to deem this life a curse
And make death's name sound sweet.
Work, Laugh and Love! Thus only can
The trembling spirit hold,
Its journey true across the span
Of years that doth unfold,
Amid earth's barren scenery
Until life's tale is told! +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Reynolds, Elsbery Washington
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
AutoLine o'Type
Publisher
The Book Supply Company
Year of Publication
1924
Pages
38
Additional information
-
religion
We know a good old Missouri town,
Where "niggers" a-plenty live all around.
On a little hill down near the mill,
The "nigger" church is standing still.
When we were there some years ago,
This church each night gave quite a show.
To enter the house we had to strive,
For the building was packed to all revive.
The snow outside the church was deep,
Inside were shouts while some did weep.
The preacher's voice above the din,
Proclaimed to all their awful sin.
He said, "I's read de Good Book thro',
I's fahmiliar with all de ol' an' new.
Now you's all bette' believe in dis story,
If you's a gonna get yo' a home in glory."
Just then a gal, big, black and tall,
Shouted, "Fo' de story I sho' does fall.
With de dev'l I's fightin' both day an' night,
But with yo' story I's winnin' de fight."
The preacher replied, "My siste' host,
You's get on de side o' de Holy Ghost.
He'll look down deep in yo' po' ol' heart,
You'll sho' beat de dev'l if yo' do yo' part."
"lf yo' read de Book fo' to get yo' light,
Yo' can dodge de ol' dev'l an' keep out o' sight.
Jus' read fo' to keep from makin' colleesions,
'Bout Paul with his 'pistle after the 'Phesians."
"If yo' faith go to shakin' an' yo' go to slippin',
Jus' read de Good Book without no skippin',
De dev'l am swif', but yo' stick to yo' Maker,
Yo' can beat him to glory in de Six Studebaker."
car model
—The Car with Character. +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Jones, Joshua Henry
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Poems of the Four Seas
Publisher
Books for Libraries Press
Year of Publication
1921
Pages
3
Additional information
-
There are hill roads and dale roads,
And roads that bind and twist;
Some wide roads and cramped roads
Which many souls have missed.
There are blind roads and night roads
That lead to where we fall.
The long road's a hard road
But the best road after all.
road road condition metaphor
Some good roads, some bad roads
Are roads of dust and grime;
Some rest roads and toil roads,
Then some that lead to crime.
The best road's the west road
Which becks with quiet call.
The straight road, though hard road,
Is the best road after all.
road condition metaphor dust West affect
There's a love road and a hate road;
And this last road trails to hell.
There's a cool road; a clean road
That leads by friendship's well.
But the best road is the west road
That calls us one and all.
'Tis a bright road—a right road
And—the one road after all.
road condition metaphor affect West +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Wilson Baker, Karle
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Modern Verse: British and American
Publisher
Henry Holt and Company
Year of Publication
1921
Pages
111-113
Additional information
Wilson Baker's poem was likely published before 1921.
car personification sound
We tumbled out into the starry dark
Under the cold stars; still the sirens shrieked,
As we reached the square, two rockets hissed
And flowered: they were the only two in town.
Down streamed the people, blowing frosty breath
Under the lamps—the mayor and the marshal,
The fire department, members of the band,
Buttoning their clothes with one hand, while the other
Clutched a cold clarionet or piccolo
That shivered for its first ecstatic squeal.
We had no cannon—we made anvils serve.
Just as our fathers did when Sumter fell;
And all a little town could do, to show
That twenty haughty cities heaped together
Could not be half so proud and glad as we,
We did. Soon a procession formed itself—
Prosperous and poor, young, old, and staid and gay,
Every glad soul who'd had the hardihood
To jump from a warm bed at four o'clock
Into the starry blackness. Round the square—
A most unmilitary sight—it pranced,
Straggled and shouted, while the street-lamps blinked
In sleepy wonder.
At the very end
Where the procession dwindled to a tail,
Shuffled Old Boozer. From a snorting car
But just arrived, a leading citizen
Sprang to the pavement.
“Hallelujah, Boss!
“We's whop de Kaiser!”
“Well, you old black fraud,”
(The judge's smile was hiding in his beard)
“What's he to you?”
Old Boozer bobbed and blinked
Under the lamps; another moment, he
Had scrambled to the base about the post,
And through the nearer crowd the shout went round,
“Listen—Old Boozer's going to preach!”
He raised
His trancéd eyes. A moment's pause.
“O Lawd,
You heah dis gemman ax me dat jes' now,
'What's he to Boozer'? Doan he know, O Lawd,
Dat Kaiser's boot-heel jes' been tinglin' up
To stomp on Boozer? Doan he know de po',
De feeble, an' de littlesome toddlin' chile
Dat scream to Hebben when he tromp 'em down,
Hab drug dat Bad Man right down off his throne
To ebberlastin' torment? Glory, Lawd!
We done pass through de Red Sea! Glory, Lawd!
De Lawd done drug de mighty from his seat!
He done exalted dem ob low degree!
He sabe de spark from dem dat stomp it out!
He sabe de seed from dem dat tromp it down!
He sabe de lebben strugglin' in de lump!
He sabe de—“
Cheering, laughing, moving on,
With cries of “Go it, Boozer!” the crowd swirled
About his perch; but, as I passed, I saw
A red-haired boy, who stood, and did not move,
But gazed and gazed, as if the old man's words
Raised visions. In his shivering arms he held
A struggling puppy; once I heard him say,
“Down, Woodrow!” but he scarcely seemed to know
He spoke. The stars paled slowly overhead;
The din increased; the crowd surged; but the boy
Stood rapt. As I turned back once more, I saw
Full morning on his face. And at the end
Of our one down-town street, the laughing sun
Came shouting up, belated, but most glad.
car sound anthropomorphism night
Bibliographic Information
Author
Naylor, James Ball
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Collier’s
Publisher
-
Year of Publication
1909
Pages
22
Additional information
-
I’m the coy and ingenuous toy of the strenuous
Era of Civilized Man,
I’m the truly respectable, duly delectable
Outcome of project and plan;
And my gassy and thunderful, massy and wonderful
Shape splits the landscape in twain,
As I race where the fountain speaks grace to the mountain peaks—
Then over valley and plain.
driving mountain personification technology sound topography
Oh! it’s—“honk, honk-honk!”—is the song I sing
In the cool of the morning gray,
And it’s—“honk, honk-honk!”—is the raucous ring
Of my voice at the close of day;
And the echoes wake—and the echoes quake,
In their sylvan retreats afar;
For I am the fizzing, the buzzing, and whizzing,
Redoubtable Motor Car!
car sound onomatopoeia speed
I’m the snappiest, pluckiest, happy-go-luckiest
Work of Man’s reckless career—
The machine of divinity green asininity
Never can conquer or steer;
And there’s never a note or bar honked by the Motor Car
Rounding an angle or curve,
But it cheats the pedestrian—beats the equestrian—
Out of his poise and his nerve.
car driving sound pedestrian animal
For it’s—“honk, honk-honk!”—is the song I sing
In the blaze of the noonday bright,
And it’s—“honk, honk-honk!”—is the raucous ring
Of my voice in the starry night;
And the echoes quake and shiver and shake,
In their rocky retreats afar;
For I am the puffing, the chugging, and chuffing
And masterful Motor Car!
car sound night
Through the haze of the dreamiest days of the gleamiest
Summers I speed to and fro,
In the height of the glorious, mighty, uproarious
Tempest I come and I go;
I’m the tool and the servant, the cool and observant
Rare creature of project and plan,
And the coy and ingenuous toy of the strenuous
Era of Civilized Man.
metaphor summer technology wind personification
And it’s—“honk, honk-honk!”—is the song I sing
In the cool of the ev'ning’s hush.
And it’s—“honk, honk-honk!”—is the raucous ring
Of my voice in the morning’s blush;
And in the echoes wake—and the echoes shake,
In their woody retreats afar;
For I am the purring, the whizzing, and whirring
And marvelous Motor Car!
car sound
Bibliographic Information
Author
Unknown
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Motor Land
Publisher
-
Year of Publication
1922
Pages
23
Additional information
-
I am the Spirit of Things that Are,
Born of an urgent need,
Of the Force that lies
In a Man's surmise
In a day ere the Age of Speed.
metaphor speed
I was at hand when the primal herd
Toiled o'er the heavy sledge,
As they dragged their load
To their cave abode
By the rippling river's edge.
Mine was the thought in that early day,
Stirred for the human weal,
That inspired the sage
In that darkened age
With that vision of Life—the Wheel.
Then came the horse as the slave of man,
Carriage and coach and four,
And the years flashed by
And the time was nigh,
To reveal what the future bore.
Then came the quickening urge of Trade,
Commerce must travel far,
And my wings I gave
To this earth-born slave
With the joys of the motor car.
car metaphor pleasure sublime
I am the Spirit of Things that Are,
Born of an urgent need,
Of the Force that lies
In a Man's surmise
In a day ere the Age of Speed.
metaphor speed +
Bibliographic Information
Author
Reynolds, Elsbery Washington
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
AutoLine o'Type
Publisher
The Book Supply Company
Year of Publication
1924
Pages
240
Additional information
-
sublime technology
You may have your blooded speeding horse,
We have given him up without remorse.
The glory that all the nerves can feel,
Is in a Six Studebaker wheel.
car car model car part
The swift and silent pedal machine,
We once considered no wise mean.
O’er us its magic has ceased to steal,
Since turning a Six Studebaker wheel.
car part sound speed
The rushing of racing motor boats,
Our mind no longer on them dotes.
Flying through water has not the appeal,
Of a Six Studebaker steering wheel.
car part metaphor
There is joy in a limited fast express,
If a first class ticket you possess.
But you'll better enjoy an evening meal,
From holding a Six Studebaker wheel.
car part
Give us the still California night,
When the moon is full and shining bright.
Then life to us is never so real,
If turning a Six Studebaker wheel.
car part sky time West
With miles of road like polished floor,
At sixty per and sometimes more,
We glide with ease mid laughters peal,
Safe at a Six Studebaker wheel.
car part infrastructure pleasure road safety speed
Like a panther leaping through the air,
With plenty of power and some to spare,
For a Six Studebaker more of zeal,
You'll have when once you turn the wheel.
car model car part metaphor
We'll warrant your mind will quickly fill
With thoughts for a Six so full of thrill.
To drive the ideal Six Automobile,
Get back of a Six Studebaker wheel.
affect car car model car part metaphor
—The Car with Character.
Bibliographic Information
Author
Stoner, Dayton
Genre
Non-Fiction
Journal or Book
Science
Publisher
-
Year of Publication
1925
Pages
56-57
Additional information
Here you can find Sam Kean's 2022 article on Dayton Stoner's work.
animal death risk
We hear and read a good deal of the enormous annual toll of human life due to the mania for speed so generally prevalent among automobile drivers. On this account our city streets and country highways are dangerous places for pedestrians as well as for other and more discreet motorists. Even the widely heralded "dirt roads" of Iowa are tainted with human blood. "As a killer of men, the automobile is more deadly than typhoid fever and runs a close second to influenza. ... Up to August of this year (1924) 9,500 lives were sacrificed, chiefly in preventable accidents." Thus reads a recent account in one of our popular magazines.
accident car death driving highway infrastructure risk road speed
Not only is the mortality among human beings high, but the death-dealing qualities of the motor car are making serious inroads on our native mammals, birds and other forms of animal life.
animal death risk
This matter was most forcefully brought to my attention during June and July, 1924, when my wife and I made the journey overland from Iowa City, Iowa, to the Iowa Lakeside Laboratory, on West Lake Okoboji, Iowa, a distance of 316 miles. Parts of two days were occupied in the going journey on June 13 and 14, while approximately the same time was required for the return trip on July 15 and 16.
Within a few minutes after we had started from Iowa City and a considerable number of dead animals, apparently casualties from passing motor cars, had been encountered in the road, it occurred to us that an enumeration and actual count of those that we might yet come upon during the remainder of the tour would be of interest. Accordingly, we undertook to do this on both the going and return trip which, although not over the same routes in their entirety, were of exactly the same length.
animal car death risk road
In this count only freshly killed carcasses of vertebrate animals lying in or immediately at the side of the highway were taken into consideration, and only those forms of whose identity we were certain as we passed along were included. Since we seldom exceeded 25 miles per hour we had ample time to identify the more familiar things. Stops were made for a few of the less common and unusual finds.
animal car death driving highway infrastructure risk road road side rural slowness
Our route took us through typical Iowa farming communities, for the most part moderately thickly populated and supplied with the usual farm buildings. Prairie, marsh and woodland were also represented as were various types of soil and vegetation supported by them. All these conditions make for a diversity of animal life, and we found it well represented on the highways.
animal car infrastructure topography rural
About 200 miles of the road were graveled; the remainder was just "plain dirt," most of which had been brought to grade. Of course the surfaced roads permit of greater speed, together with more comfort to the speeder and correspondingly greater danger to human and other lives.
gravel risk road speed road surface
In general, the greatest number of casualties were encountered on the good stretches of road. By way of illustrating this point it may be noted that on the return journey between the Laboratory and Marshall town, Iowa, a distance of 211 miles, all well graveled, 105 dead animals representing 15 species were counted; of these, 39 were red-headed woodpeckers ( Melanerpes erythrocephalus ). Several other forms that could not be identified in passing were met with.
animal death gravel infrastructure Midwest risk rural
As will be seen from the appended table the mortality among red-headed woodpeckers is higher than that of any other form observed, and I believe that a combination of circumstances will account for this situation. In the first place, these birds have a propensity for feeding upon insects and waste grain in and along the roads; second, they remain as long as possible before the approaching car, in all probability not being keen discriminators of its speed; and third, they have a slow "get-away," that is, they can not quickly acquire a sufficient velocity to escape the oncoming car and so meet their death. However, I feel certain that a speed of from 35 to 40 miles an hour is necessary in order to catch these birds. Of course this is not true for some other forms such as turtles and snakes which depend upon terrestrial progression and are comparatively slow movers. In most cases all animals, if given a reasonable time to escape, will cause the hurried motorist little if any delay.
animal car death infrastructure road speed risk weapon
Further comment need not be made upon the various factors entering into the situation here discussed. It will be sufficient to point out that on a summer motor trip of 632 miles over Iowa roads, 29 species of our native and introduced vertebrate animals, representing a total of 225 individuals, were found dead as a result of being crushed by passing automobiles, and that this agency demands recognition as one of the important checks upon the natural increase of many forms of life. Assuming that these conditions prevail over the thousands of miles of improved high ways in this state and throughout the United States the death toll of the motor car becomes still more appalling.
animal car death highway infrastructure Midwest road speed risk
Bibliographic Information
Author
Fraser, Vonard
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
Motor Land
Publisher
-
Year of Publication
1922
Pages
16
Additional information
-
Through the forest aisles to the silver sea,
To the crest of the sun-kissed hills,
As the motor sings on the Open Road
And the heart of all nature thrills.
forest ocean topography music sound personification road scenery
There’s a subtle lure in the summer air,
Wherever the road may lead,
And a power that throbs with the pulsing gears—
What a joy in the Age of Speed!
car part power speed pleasure road personification haptic summer
There’s a pleasure here that our fathers knew
At the pull of the dappled greys,
Or the Roman lord with his Arab steed
As he basked in the public gaze.
animal
From the snow-clad peaks of the Siskiyous
To the warmth of the southern sun,
Over roads that wind through the marts of trade,
Does the traffic of pleasure run.
snow sunshine driving mountain scenery traffic pleasure
And we laugh at Time as the tardy Hours
In their gallop from Day’s red dawn
Are outdistanced far in the swift-sped race
By this product of brain and brawn.
animal metaphor technology car speed
lt’s the key to health and a newer life,
Where the treasures of Nature lie,
As the seasons pass from the Spring’s sweet breath
To the chill of the Winter's sigh.
health spring winter
And the dream of man is a broader dream
With the span of his life’s increase,
And the throbbing pulse of the motor car
Bears him nearer the haunts of Peace.
health agency haptic car
And the country calls to the city-bred,
"Come away from the fields of strife,
For a breath of air from the snow-clad peaks
In the traffic of Joy is Life.”
rural urban traffic
Bibliographic Information
Author
Reynolds, Elsbery Washington
Genre
Poetry
Journal or Book
AutoLine o'Type
Publisher
The Book Supply Company
Year of Publication
1924
Pages
104
Additional information
-
Every man from day to day
Should save a portion of his pay.
If what you save is only small,
Still it’s more than none at all.
There’s not a man who doesn’t know,
To pay is better as you go.
You'll find if you do not keep up,
You'll be forever on the jump.
It’s not the savings that you make
That turn into a rich man’s stake.
It’s lessons soundly learned of thrift,
That are to you a priceless gift.
Do not discouraged ever be
Because the end you cannot see.
Many possessing the lion’s part,
Had to make the poor man’s start.
If some investments have not paid,
From the savings you have made,
The gift for thrift to you He gave,
You cannot lose if still you save.
The man who says no use at all,
Because his pay is only small,
Will say the same when multiplied,
For saving he has never tried.
Just save a five and then a ten,
And when you add some more again,
You’re bound to make your saving score,
Each little makes a little more.
A motor car is like a man,
Some cannot save and others can,
The one of all that saves the most,
It’s Studebaker’s right to boast.
car car model metaphor pleasure safety
—The Car with Character. +
