Life — January 4, 1912 — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

-LIFE- The Ultimate Purchase BY BURGES JOHNSON OBIAS mounted his front steps, two at a time, and violently rattled the door knob, too impatient to remove his glove and search for the key. - The door was opened by a stalwart young man clad in red plaid smoking robe and carpet slippers, who barred ingress by holding the door slightly ajar. In one hand he held a yacht- ing magazine, a finger marking the interrupted story. “ Ahoy there, Tobias,” he drawled. “ What's the rush? Anything afire?” “Let me in,” Tobias panted. “It's O. K. Where's Letty?—Ames sold that Meadowhurst lot—we can do it!” The front door was released with some alacrity. “ Jove, are you going to do it now?” “As soon as possible,” said Tobias. Letty came through the dining room dusting her hands on her apron,, As she approached, she grasped the import of her husband’s reply. “Oh, Tobias,” she shrilled. “Are you really going to, and right away?” and throwing her arms about him she stamped the imprint of two floury hands upon his back. “Well, I shall do it as soon as we are sure of our- selves and have given the matter fair consideration,” said Tobias, assuming now a dignified judicial expression. “ By the way, where are those ads.?” “TI gave them to Jack,” said Letty. Brother Jack acquiesced a bit sheepishly. “I’ve got ’em,” he said. “I think you are making a mistake, but if you're going to do it I thought you’d want some sane, dis- interested advice from an outside expert.” He fussed through a little pile of magazines on the library table while his brother-in-law laid aside coat and hat. “Here they are,” said Jack, discovering a little pack of torn magazine pages held together by a clip. “There's some enticing reading there, all right,” he added. “But I wish you'd go in for a good yawl with that money. I know of a bird—and you could put in auxiliary power if you're so stuck on gasoline.” Letty looked at him grievedly. “You know Jack, I couldn't take the children to school every day in a yawl.” “You could if you lived nearer the canal,” said Jack, in feeble self-defense. “And if the school lay in the right direction,” he added lamely. “Boats aren’t even thinkable,” said Tobias emphati- cally. “ What's that advertisement you put on top?” “That,” said Jack—‘“oh, that’s the ‘Go-mobile.” She sounds good and I like the cut of her jib—floats on an even keel, trim looking aft, with rakish lines on the foremast and wheel.” “Do you mean the bias effect on those front things?” asked Letty, much interested. “I like that, too, but it can’t be very important. And I do like more trimming—it looks so plain. Some of them have such nice hems and ruching and insertion along the edges.” “You're right to a certain extent, my dear,” said Tobias approvingly. “ We must consider size and price and adapt- ability to our requirements. The appearance comes after- ward. I suggest that we group them first according to price and durability.” He took the pages and began sort- ing them. “Dear me,” he murmured a moment later, “so far all of these say they are the cheapest. Here is the “Hurryup,’ for instance, Let me read it. ‘Can you afford ahorse? If so, you can better afford a‘ Hurryup. If you cannot afford a horse, you must have a‘ Hurryup! It eats no oats, A thorough trial of strength between an average horse and our car, killed the horse. It cost us during the trial one-half a cent per mile to run our machine. Think what it cost the horse! Order to-day or you will be too late!’” “Oh, dear!” said Letty, “that sounds so savage. Aren't there any gentle machines advertised?” “This next is a motor truck,” said Tobias, passing it over casually. “Oh, wait,” Letty stopped him, “let me see. It looks so roomy. What does ‘the trip, the truck and the trophy’ mean?” “Oh, it seems to have carried things from somewhere to somewhere else at such a low cost it won a prize.” “But why should it cost anything to go somewhere in your own machine? Do you have to put a cent into some slot every mile you go? I don’t want that kind. It must be like a taxicab.” “You don’t understand,” said Tobias, gently. “Any machine costs to maintain and operate even after you have bought it.” “1 suppose it’s all right if you say so,” Letty sighed confidingly, “and I like that truck. You could put the baby’s icebox and carriage on it for long trips and have a stove to heat up the milk.” “We couldn’t expect to do all that on a machine,” remonstrated Tobias. “Why not,” championed Jack. “Look for that one in there, with a galley amidships. There she is. She ain't so bad. ‘The Halmars Harlemette—the last word in tour- ing cars. Combination folding-bed seats and complete kitchenette, with hot and cold water. Why rent a flat and move once a month when you can live in your car and move all the time? 1918 Model now ready.’” “Impossible,” said Tobias firmly, checking the evident enthusiasm of the other two. “I'd be ashamed to go to the office every morning in my car with Letty making up beds in the back seat.” “Well, it’s very hard to chose from just reading about them,” said Letty wearily. “What is a carburetor any- way, and a clutch, for instance?”