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Three Elephant Power and Other Stories by A. B. (Andrew Barton) Paterson
page 6 of 124 (04%)
"No, I don't."

"'E got a ninety," said Alfred slowly, giving time for the words
to soak in.

"A ninety! What do you mean?"

"'E got a ninety -- a ninety-horse-power racin' engine wot was made
for some American millionaire and wasn't as fast as wot
some other millionaire had, so he sold it for the price of the iron,
and Henery got it, and had a body built for it, and he comes out here
and tells us all it's a twenty mongrel -- you know, one of them cars
that's made part in one place and part in another, the body here
and the engine there, and the radiator another place.
There's lots of cheap cars made like that.

"So Henery he says that this is a twenty mongrel --
only a four-cylinder engine; and nobody drops to what she is
till Henery goes out one Sunday and waits for the big Napier
that Scotty used to drive -- it belonged to the same bloke wot owned
that big racehorse wot won all the races. So Henery and Scotty
they have a fair go round the park while both their bosses is at church,
and Henery beat him out o' sight -- fair lost him -- and so Henery
was reckoned the boss of the road. No one would take him on after that."

A nasty creek-crossing here required Alfred's attention. A little girl,
carrying a billy-can of water, stood by the stepping stones,
and smiled shyly as we passed. Alfred waved her a salute quite as though
he were an ordinary human being. I felt comforted. He had his moments
of relaxation evidently, and his affections like other people.
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