Life — September 3, 1925 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

ae * LIVE : The Sunday Auto Ride By H. I. Phillips HE household of Amos Q. Pipp T= for want of a better hori- zontal word in four letters, agog. Mrs. Emma Pipp, her face as red from exertion as a cluster of picture- house exit bulbs, was filling a thermos bottle with hot coffee and incidentally scalding “Rajah,” the Pipp puppy. Prunella Pipp, the twelve-year-old daughter, was lathering rye bread with pimento cheese and wrapping the result in oil-paper. Patricia Pipp, nine, was packing hard-boiled eggs and bananas intu a shoebox already congested with sardine tins, pickle bottles and a jelly roll. Prentice Pipp, five, was running around in circles carrying a gorgeous tin pail and shovel and registering a keen desire to be on the wing. Pa Pipp, radiant but rattled, was dividing his time between issuing gen- eral directions to the whole Pipp fam- ily and darting to the front window to see if the new Pipp flivver was still at the curb where he had left it in all its vernal elegance. Pa Pipp was beset by a nervous dread that somebody would back into that car, scratch a match on its glossy surface, or swoop down and carry it off the moment his back was turned, It was Sunday Morning. To the Pipps it was the Sunday Morning that would bring emancipa- tion from cramped apartments, crowded subway trains, congested city sidewalks and teeming parks. For the Pipps had their first automobile. Pa Pipp had just tooled the bus from the garage and was anxious to get the family aboard and be on the way to the beach. “You're a great big dear for buying it,” exclaimed Mrs. Pipp, with a smile of gratitude, as she closed a shoebox full of delicatessen products. “Now we can really enjoy our Sundays.” “It took a lotta income-tax cheatin’ an’ one thing 'nd another, but I fig- ured you was entitled to it,” answered Amos, drawing himself to his full five feet four. “ man owes it to his family to own a car these days!" “You darling!” exclaimed Mrs. Pipp. “It's health insurance!” went on Amos, “It means taking the wife and kiddies from the stuffy, cramped con- fines of the city out through the flow- ered countryside to the breeze-swept, sun-kissed mountains and beaches!” “Ain't it so?” cried Mrs. Pipp. “It means rest, contentment, recrea- tion, peace of mind, health and happi- ness,” continued Amos with fitting ges- ticulations. “It means a happy trans- ition from the congestion of the city to the freedom of God's own open country, out where the fragrance of the fields and streams—the odor of the balsams and the tang of the salt sea air smite the nostrils.” ‘You read that in the folder!” ac- cused Mrs, Pipp. “What of it?” demanded Amos. “It’s the truth, ain't it? “Take this box, Prunella,” com- manded the mother,“and be careiul to carry it right side up. There's a cus- tard pie ir Patricia, you carry the hamper! Amos, take the big basket! THE POLICEMAN MOTIONED AMOS To STOe. Everything's ready, I think. Goodness m Phew!" ‘Snap into your hat and coat, Ma!” ordered Mr. Pipp as he led the way out of the Pipp apartment, whistling a syPsy song. “How about the dog?” called Mrs. Pipp. “He wants to go, don’t you, pupsy-upsy? Ess, him does.” “Bring him along, but don't let him put his paws on the varnish!” called back Pipp. As Amos reached the streets, some seconds ahead of the family, he emitted a shrill note of alarm at the discovery of two boys playing baseball close to the new flivver. He inspected the car minutely for any indication that it had been hit by a passing ball, His heart beat very rapidly at the thought of such a calamity. “Hurry up!" he cried to Mrs. Pipp and the Pipp progeny. “Let's get aboard before anything happens.” The family piled aboard joyously, if nervously, Mrs, Pipp looked up at the windows to see if any neighbors were “paul!” ROARED THE STRANGER, comicbooks.com