Property:Has text
From Off the Road Database
This is a property of type Text.
T
<div class="poem">
<p>There are hill roads and dale roads,<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">And roads that bind and twist;</span><br />
Some wide roads and cramped roads<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">Which many souls have missed.</span><br />
There are blind roads and night roads<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">That lead to where we fall.</span><br />
The long road's a hard road<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">But the best road after all.</span>
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>There be ten million ears in this little city alone...<br />
How many have heard the rocks, the hills and the stars?<br />
Not I, not I, as I hurried uptown and downtown!<br />
I heard the wheels of the cars, the chatter of many mouths,<br />
I was in the opera house when it seemed almost to burst with music,<br />
I heard the laughter of children, and the venom of mixed malicious tongues,<br />
But neither the stars I heard nor the muted rocks nor the hills!
</p>
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R
<div class="poem">
<p>There came to us a vision of life’s perpetual dream,<br />
We made our decision to follow up the gleam.<br />
We could build a fortune big and doubly sure,<br />
Raising market rabbits if the breed was pure.
</p>
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T
<div class="poem">
<p>There is joy in a limited fast express,<br />
If a first class ticket you possess.<br />
But you'll better enjoy an evening meal,<br />
From holding a Six Studebaker wheel.
</p>
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A
<div class="poem">
<p>There is nothing more to tell. We left Mill City that night and rode into Winnemucca on a freight train. The machine, aided by its own power, had been hauled from its bed by horses and returned to Mill City, where arrangements were made to load it for Cleveland. We left Winnemucca May 30, at 2:40 P.M. on a Southern Pacific passenger train, and arrived in Cleveland June 2, at 7:35 P.M.
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F
<div class="poem">
<p>There is some way, I think, to touch<br />
Those hands of yours that count the nights<br />
Stippled with pink and green advertisements.<br />
And now, before its arteries turn dark,<br />
I would have you meet this bartered blood.<br />
Imminent in his dream, none better knows<br />
The white wafer cheek of love, or offers words<br />
Lightly as moonlight on the eaves meets snow.
</p>
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C
<div class="poem">
<p>There was a copper mine in the mountains back of the hotel which gave this place considerable patronage and kept it in existence. We enjoyed the quiet and rest we had there, and were better fitted when we left to continue our trip. One day an Indian woman who was cleaning windows got up the courage to ask, "Where you come? Where you go?" I could not make her understand, and after a long look from her beady eyes she merely snorted, "humph!" The Chinese cook was very happy this same day, laughing when he saw me, saying, "We have chicken on the fence tonight."
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>There was a fair road with a telegraph line to follow, and a full moon overhead. Many times we thought we saw a light but it faded away before our eyes, leaving us bewildered and uncertain. About eleven o'clock, Fred stopped the car and asked me if I saw anything or if there was an optical illusion. It looked like an iron bridge a little to one side of the road, but it appeared so fairy-like in the moonlight that we doubted our eyes, so we stopped the car and walked over to see if it was a real bridge or a mirage. It was real.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>There was little travel on the road and he was forced to remain in a crouched position for some time. Finally he hailed a tramp walking on the railroad and, after much persuasion, got him to leave the tracks and come to the car. He directed him how to turn off the ignition, put the car in reverse gear, then crank the engine, thus turning the sprocket and chain backward and releasing his hand. He reflected later that he might have been caught for hours; as it was, the flesh on his hand was cut through to the bone. Fortunately he had a box of salve in the car, and the tramp helped dress and wrap his injured hand.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>There was no room for a camping outfit, and we were forced to run the risk of finding accommodations along the way as best we could, though we carried an emergency hamper containing bacon, skillet, canned meat, crackers, coffee, chocolate, raisins, matches, medicines, and other items.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>There was no sign of civilization for miles, and the area wasn't a nice place in which to break down or run out of gas. I doubt if we would have found the proper road if this man hadn't been working on the road on this particular day, and so was fortunately in a position to direct us.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>There was utter silence between us as we started down the steep road in Currant Creek, and when we dared look at each other, we saw that each was white as a sheet. We passed one house on our way down into a level valley which had a hazy mountain range on the farther side. That day we saw only one man, and he was raking rocks out of the road. He seemed quite out of place, but we decided he had come from a mine in the hills. We stopped to ask him directions and, as we were eating fruit for lunch, we gave him an apple. He asked more questions than we did, but he told us to keep straight down the valley until we came to a road that turned directly toward the mountain, fifty miles across the valley, and that by going across this valley we could come to Twin Springs ranch, where we could stay for the night.
</p>
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M
<div class="poem">
<p>There were only about a hundred teams on Main Street in a day,<br />
And twenty or thirty people, I guess, and some children out to play.<br />
And there wasn't a wagon or buggy, or a man or a girl or a boy<br />
That Main Street didn't remember, and somehow seem to enjoy.
</p>
</div> +
C
<div class="poem">
<p>There were two ranch houses where we could stay overnight, and he advised us to carry all the gasoline possible when we left Ely. We greatly appreciated his help and in consequence we took extra precautions, laying in food and fruit, looking over the car to see that everything was in good condition, filling the tanks with gas and carrying on each running board a five-gallon tin can of gasoline for use when needed. In all, we carried 26 gallons.
</p>
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T
<div class="poem">
<p>There's a love road and a hate road;<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">And this last road trails to hell.</span><br />
There's a cool road; a clean road<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">That leads by friendship's well.</span><br />
But the best road is the west road<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">That calls us one and all.</span><br />
'Tis a bright road—a right road<br />
<span class="mw-poem-indented" style="display: inline-block; margin-inline-start: 1em;">And—the one road after all.</span>
</p>
</div> +
S
<div class="poem">
<p>There's a strident call in the Open Road<br />
Where the Spring's glad message lies,<br />
And the motor sings me a joyous song<br />
With a lilt of the azure skies.
</p>
</div> +
Q
<div class="poem">
<p>There's no haphazard in this world of ours.<br />
Cause and effect are grim, relentless powers.<br />
They rule the world. (A king was shot last night;<br />
Last night I held the joker and both bowers.)
</p>
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T
<div class="poem">
<p>There’s a pleasure here that our fathers knew<br />
At the pull of the dappled greys,<br />
Or the Roman lord with his Arab steed<br />
As he basked in the public gaze.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>There’s a subtle lure in the summer air,<br />
Wherever the road may lead,<br />
And a power that throbs with the pulsing gears—<br />
What a joy in the Age of Speed!
</p>
</div> +
<div class="poem">
<p>There’s not a man who doesn’t know,<br />
To pay is better as you go.<br />
You'll find if you do not keep up,<br />
You'll be forever on the jump.
</p>
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