Surreys rumbled lightly by, with the plod-plod of honest old
horses, and frequently there was the glitter of whizzing spokes from a
runabout or a sporting buggy, and the sharp, decisive hoof-beats of a
trotter. Then, like a cowboy shooting up a peaceful camp, a frantic
devil would hurtle out of the distance, bellowing, exhaust racketing
like a machine gun gone amuck--and at these horrid sounds the surreys
and buggies would hug the curbstone, and the bicycles scatter to
cover, cursing; while children rushed from the sidewalks to drag pet
dogs from the street. The thing would roar by, leaving a long wake of
turbulence; then the indignant street would quiet down for a few
minutes--till another came.
"There are a great many more than there used to be," Miss Fanny
observed, in her lifeless voice, as the lull fell after one of these
visitations. "Eugene is right about that; there seem to be at least
three or four times as many as there were last summer, and you never
hear the ragamuffins shouting 'Get a horse!' nowadays; but I think he
may be mistaken about their going on increasing after this.
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