TWO SEAT COMEDY.

Southland Times, Issue 19462, 29 January 1925, Page 8

TWO SEAT COMEDY.

z CONTRAST IN VIEWS. PASSENGER AND DRIVER. Great Scott, what a narrow squeak! I do wish John would not drive so fast; but possibly I’m a little squeamish, because I’m not used to being driven by other people. “The car’s not running so well to-day.” Funny, think I, as John makes this remark and the car bounds forward still faster. Trees, houses, carts, and other obstructions float past whilst I begin to hold my breath and grip tighter the side ol the body. Really, when I come to think of it, ] ■ must be a careful driver, for I never take any risks like this when I’m at the wheel. I’ve been pretty good up to the present and have not said a word, but ] shall not be able to go many more yards without expressing my thoughts tc John or grabbing the wheel and assumin' control of the car. The makers of cars do not seem to b< at all clever. Who wants to drive ai more than 30 miles an hour? * There’i nothing like going along at a stead] “twenty-three.” and why cars aren’t madi I not to exceed a reasonable speed is beyonc I my comprehension. I “Say,” says John, “would you like to tak< i a turn at the wheel?” I begin to breath I freely again, and my heart arises from mj ' boots. Now’s my chance to show how i i car should really be driven. “Thanks J John,” say I; “I would like to see how you: ; bus feels.” The brakes are applied, th< car comes to a standstill, then John and | change places. ' Slipping her into first speed and lettinj l in the clutch, the car glides off. She’s : I beauty, and she feels in every way ; ’■ thoroughbred. Up into second, third, ant i then top. The joy of handling the whee • as she glides over the road is worth living ■ for. Up that hill she floats. How beau tifully she corners! I begin to think I shal have to offer John a price for his car. really feel I cannot live longer, without it “Steady, old chap,” calls John, whos voice brings me back to earth again “You’re driving at double the legal limit and I make a habit of never driving a much more than 30.” As I turn sharpb I see John pressing his feet hard into th floorboards and a look of fierce apprehen sion in his eyes. I chuckle quietly to myself when change places again with John and thinl of the mental discomfiture one’s dependent upon another’s skill entails.—-E.I.W.