Show Real Auto Poem I 4 Arthur Riddle the time old-time Ph pher made a poem out of the au bile as follows I I like the smell Emell of oC the gas gas gas' so 80 oJ and the smell of the gasoline an ai like the tho purr and md electric whirr of ci of machine What What a aride Jo ride oer o'er the countryside a l m- m tearing by your ears as y you through space at a wicked pace Jp j never a thought of fears tears Clear I of mind Is the town behind for Cor foring 1 Ing is real indeed but your me net red and the road ahead and the df di delight of speed till speed till the sudden Ih when a cruel rock destroys your dr with a jerk The car breaks don doc and you walk to town half halt a darji to work Atlanta Atlanta Constitution 11 |