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In winter when automobiling
was impractical, we depended on horses for transportation. During this
period Eddie Green over-hauled the motors and I often watched him with
great interest. What little mechanical knowledge I have was gained from
these observations. Hundreds of little parts and nuts and bolts were all
systematically lined up on a bench beside the car, and you won-dered how
he could find homes for all of them, but somehow
he managed to, and come next spring, everything would be
running smoothly.
After Eddie left us to start his own garage we went through a
series of chauffeurs — good, bad and indifferent. First there was Jack,
who seemed to have plenty of time on his hands and welcomed an excuse to
drive the young fry around. Wherever we wanted to go he was willing to
take us. At first there were jaunts down town or to Wayland, but
gradually our horizons widened and we went to such far away places
as the dam at Clinton. The grand climax of these excursions was a trip
to Revere Beach where we rode roller coasters and scenic railways, went
through the tunnel of horror in a boat, and took in many of the other
attractions offered by the fascinating resort. This was the most
exciting day I had ever spent — and the last as far as Jack was
concerned. News of where we had been somehow managed to leak out. When
my parents heard about it there was the devil to pay and Jack was soon
replaced, much to our disappointment.
Jack's successor, Frank, was no fun at all. One day I heard
the self starter grinding away ineffectively on our Peerless
limousine and I was unhappy about the way he was draining the battery.
It was a chilly morning — one of those days when prim- ing an automobile
by putting a few drops of gasoline into each |
