and Irish impulsiveness and recklessness on the other.

The Englishman will not budge; the Irishman cries, "Let her go."

Speaking of the future of the automobile, the Professor said,--

"Cupid will never use the automobile, the little god is too
conservative; fancy the dainty sprite with oil-can and waste
instead of bow and arrow. I can see him with smut on the end of
his mischievous nose and grease on the seat of the place where his
trousers ought to be. What a picture he would make in overalls and
jumper, leather jacket and cap; he could not use dart or arrow, at
best he could only run the machine hither and thither bunting
people into love--knocking them senseless, which is perhaps the
same thing. No, no, Cupid will never use the automobile. Imagine
Aphrodite in goggles, clothed in dust, her fair skin red from
sunburn and glistening with cold cream; horrible nightmare of a
mechanical age, avaunt!

"The chariots of High Olympus were never greased, they used no
gasoline, the clouds we see about them are condensed zephyrs and
not dust. Omniscient Jove never used a monkey-wrench, never sought
the elusive spark, never blew up a four-inch tire with a half-inch
pump. Even if the automobile could surmount the grades, it would
never be popular on Olympian heights. Mercury might use it to
visit Vulcan, but he would never go far from the shop.

"As for conditions here on earth, why should a young woman go
riding with a man whose hands, arms, and attention are entirely
taken up with wheels, levers, and oil-cups? He can't even press