the route accordingly; he will even speculate whether a given
bridge will support the extraordinary load.

Once we were directed to go miles out of our way over a series of
hills to avoid a stretch of road freshly covered with broken
stone, because our solicitous friends were sure the stones would
cut the rubber tires.

On the other hand, in Michigan, a well meaning old lady sent us
straight against the very worst of sand hills, not a weed, stone,
or hard spot on it, so like quicksand that the wheels sank as they
revolved; it was the only hill from which we retreated, to find
that farmers avoided that particular road on account of that
notorious hill, to find also a good, well-travelled road one mile
farther around. These instances are mentioned here to show how
hazardous it is to accept blindly directions given.

"Is this the road to--?" is the chauffeur's ever recurring shout
to people as he whizzes by. Four times out of five he gets a blank
stare or an idiotic smile. Now and then he receives a quick "Yes"
or "No."

If time permits to stop and discuss the matter at length, do so
with a man; if passing quickly, ask a woman.

A woman will reply before a man comprehends what is asked; the
feminine mind is so much more alert than the masculine; then, too,
a woman would rather know what a man is saying than watch a
machine, while a man would rather see the machine than listen;--in
many ways the automobile differentiates the sexes.