thousand imperfections in this discursive story. In all truth, it
is a most garrulous and incoherent narrative. Like the automobile,
part of the time the narrative moves, part of the time it does
not; now it is in the road pursuing a straight course; then again
it is in the ditch, or far afield, quite beyond control and out of
reason. It is impossible to write coolly, calmly, logically, and
coherently about the automobile; it is not a cool, calm, logical,
or coherent beast, the exact reverse being true.

The critic who has never driven a machine is not qualified to
speak concerning the things contained herein, while the critic who
has will speak with the charity and chastened humility which
spring from adversity.

The charm of automobiling lies less in the sport itself than in
the unusual contact with people and things, hence any description
of a tour would be incomplete without reflections by the way; the
imagination once in will not out; it even seeks to usurp the
humbler function of observation. However, the arrangement of
chapters and headings--like finger-posts or danger signs--is such
that the wary reader may avoid the bad places and go through from
cover to cover, choosing his own route. To facilitate the finding
of what few morsels of practical value the book may contain, an
index has been prepared which will enable the casual reader to
select his pages with discrimination.

These confessions and warnings are printed in this conspicuous
manner so that the uncertain seeker after "something to read" may
see at a glance the poor sort of entertainment offered herein, and
replace the book upon the shelf without buying.