road.

It is seldom the difficulty is such that repairs cannot be made on
the spot. The novice looks on in despair, the experienced driver
considers a moment, makes use of the tools and few things he has
with him, and goes on.

It is astonishing how much can be done with few tools and
practically no supplies. A packing blows out; if you have no
asbestos, brown paper, or even newspaper saturated with oil, will
do for the time being; if a wheel has to be taken off, a
fence-rail makes an excellent jack; if a chain is to be riveted,
an axe or even a stone makes a good dolly-bar and your wrench an
excellent riveting hammer; if screws, or nuts, or bolts drop off,
--and they do,--and you have no extra, a glance at the machine is
sure to disclose duplicates that can be removed temporarily to the
more essential places.

Then, too, no one has ever exhausted the limitless resources of a
farmer's wagon-shed. In it you find the accumulations of
generations, bits of every conceivable thing,--all rusty, of
course, and seemingly worthless, but sure to serve your purpose on
a pinch, and so accessible, never locked; just go in and help
yourself. Nowadays farmers use and abuse so much complicated
machinery, that it is more than likely one could construct entire
an automobile from the odds and ends of a half-dozen farm-yards.

All boys and most girls--under twelve--say, "Gimme a ride;" some
boys and a few girls--over twelve--say, "You look lonesome,
mister." What the hoodlums of the cities say will hardly bear
repetition. In spite of its swiftness the automobile offers
opportunities for studying human nature appreciated only by the
driver.

The city hoodlum is a most aggressive individual; he is not
invariably in tattered clothes, and is by no means confined to the
alleys and side streets. The hoodlum element is a constituent part
of human nature, present in every one; the classification of the
individual depending simply upon the depth at which the turbulent
element is buried, upon the number and thickness of the overlying
strata of civilization and refinement. In the recognized hoodlum
the obnoxious element is quite at the surface; in the best of us
it is only too apt to break forth,--no man can be considered an
absolutely extinct volcano.

One can readily understand why owners and drivers of horses should
feel and even exhibit a marked aversion towards the automobile,
since, from their stand-point, it is an unmitigated nuisan