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Show Real Auto Poem. Arthur Riddle, the old-time philosopher, philoso-pher, made a poem out of the automobile, automo-bile, as follows: "I like the smell of the gas so well and the smell of the gasoline, and 1 like the purr and electric whirr of the buzzmobile machine. What a Joy to ride o'er the countryside with a gal? tearing by your ears, as you flj through space at a wicked pace with never a thought of fears. Clear out of mind is the town behind, for nothing noth-ing is real, indeed, but your meteoi red, and the road ahead and the dizzj delight of speed till the sudden shoe when a cruel rock destroys your dream with a jerk. The car breakg down and you walk to town, half a day laU to work." Atlanta Constitution. |