Then he hung his head as low as he could, and I believe if
that horse had been supplied with hands he would have put them over
his ears.
The people in the Bubble began to shout at us, and I began to shout
at the horse, and my wife began to shout at me, while Parsifal
stood there and scratched his left ankle with his right heel.
Then the big machine made a sudden jump to the right and hiked by
us at the rate of about a $100 fine, while the lady passengers on
the hurricane deck stood up and began to hand out medals to each
other because they didn't run us down.
Ten minutes later Parsifal came to and looked over his shoulder at
us with a smile as serene as the morning and once more resumed his
mad career onward, ever onward.
We were now about two miles from home, and suddenly we came across
a big red Bubble which stood in front of a road-house, sneezing
inwardly and sobbing with all its corrugated heart.
Parsifal saw the machine before we did.
We knew there must be an automobile somewhere near, because he
stopped still and quietly passed away.
I jumped out and tried to lead him by the Coroner's Delight, but he
planted his four feet in the middle of the road and refused to be
coaxed.
I took that horse by the ear and whispered therein just what I
thought about him, but he wouldn't talk back.
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