But they're dirty things, and
they keep getting out of order, so that you're always lying down on
your back in the mud, and--"
"Oh, no," she interrupted eagerly. "Haven't you noticed? You don't
see nearly so many people doing that nowadays as you did two or three
years ago, and, when you do, Eugene says it's apt to be one of the
older patterns. The way they make them now, you can get at most of
the machinery from the top. I do think you'd be interested, dear."
George remained indifferent. "Possibly--but I hardly think so. I
know a lot of good people are really taking them up, but still--"
"But still' what?" she said as he paused.
"But still--well, I suppose I'm a little old-fashioned and fastidious,
but I'm afraid being a sort of engine driver never will appeal to me,
mother. It's exciting, and I'd like that part of it, but still it
doesn't seem to me precisely the thing a gentleman ought to do. Too
much overalls and monkey-wrenches and grease!"
"But Eugene says people are hiring mechanics to do all that sort of
thing for them.
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