Ten minutes later Parsifal came to and looked over his shoulder at
us with a smile as serene as the morning and once more resumed his
mad career onward, ever onward.

We were now about two miles from home, and suddenly we came across
a big red Bubble which stood in front of a road-house, sneezing
inwardly and sobbing with all its corrugated heart.

Parsifal saw the machine before we did.

We knew there must be an automobile somewhere near, because he
stopped still and quietly passed away.

I jumped out and tried to lead him by the Coroner's Delight, but he
planted his four feet in the middle of the road and refused to be
coaxed.

I took that horse by the ear and whispered therein just what I
thought about him, but he wouldn't talk back.

I told him my wife's honor was at stake, but he looked my wife over
and his lips curled with an expression which seemed to say,
"Impossible."

It was all off with us.

Parsifal simply wouldn't move until that sobbing Choo Choo Wagon
had left the neighborhood, so I went inside the road-house to find
the owner.