salesgirls, brokers,
lawyers and the like, on their way downtown to their jobs, figures that
you can go to work any day, but an auto bein' fixed calls for immediate
attention and gets around us in a circle. This seemed to get Alex's
goat, but it was huckleberry pie to the mechanic. He crawls out from
under, rolls up his sleeves, ruffles his hair, looks over the crowd and
rubs his hands together.

"Gimme a cigarette!" he says. "And reach down in that tool box there
and hand me up them pliers, a couple of S wrenches, the hammer and a
screwdriver!"

The crowd sighs with delight, but Alex leaps off the seat like they was
bees in the upholstery.

"What d'ye want all them there tools for?" he yells. "Stop this monkey
business, I'm an hour late now! What's the matter with the car?"

The mechanic looks around at the crowd and shakes his head pityin'ly.
They give Alex the laugh, and a manicure tells her friend that if she
was the mechanic she wouldn't bother with it, but would make Alex fix
it himself for gettin' so bold.

"What's the matter with the car?" repeats the mechanic, waggin' his
head from side to side with a sarcastic movement. "It's been abused,
that's all! I ain't had time to go over it carefully; it'll have to be
towed down to the shop where we can git it up on jacks and take it
apart. I found a leak in the radiator, the bolts is missin' from the
muffler, there's a crack in the rear housin' and the clutch seems to
grind a bit."

Alex grits his teeth and grabs hold of the windshield.

"Is that all?" he hisses.

"Well, not _all_, no!" says the mechanic, scratchin' his chin. "They
must be a couple of pins sheered off of the differential and the--"

"They ain't no sich a thing!" roars Alex. "This here's a brand new
car, right from our factory--you wooden-headed fule! It ain't been run
a mile and they ain't a thing the matter with it, not even a scratch on
the paint! You was sent up here to drive this car, not to wreck it.
You--"

"Hey, don't git to callin' me no wooden-headed fool!" hollers the
mechanic, jumpin' around and wavin' the pliers. "That's against the
union rules, and you'll get the worst of it if I bring it before the
board. They must be some mistake here. I thought you wanted me to
look over this boat for your friend here and see what it needed. How'd
I know you only wanted me to drive? I ain't no mind-reader, I'm a
mechanic and--"

"Shut up!" says Alex; "and drive us out to