Vignettes of San Francisco by Almira Bailey
page 28 of 86 (32%)
page 28 of 86 (32%)
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Oh, dear me, I hope I'm able, All day long to keep my cable. These hilly-cum-goes are not run by electricity at all, but just pretend. They are run by three things - black magic, white magic and a sense of humor. Black magic takes them up the hills, white magic restrains them down, and the sense of humor is in the Irish conductors. You may hear, if you listen, the magic coming out of the ground, "Kibble-kable, kibble-kable," only fast as anything. At noon time it goes "Putter, putter, putter," and at bed-time, "Kuddle-kiddie, kuddle-kiddie." This magic is very, very important. Especially going down hill. Did you ever, my dears, descend that precipice at the end of the Fillmore street line? What is it that keeps you from landing flat on your nose on Union street? Nothing but white magic. What is it that keeps you from shooting from the Fairmont, straight down into the St. Francis? White magic. The sense of humor is also very important. Suppose a stout person gets on, the conductor hops immediately to the opposite side for ballast. That takes a sense of humor. If the hilly-cum-go is full of young people, especially sweethearts, the Uncle jiggles the hilly-cum-go horribly, but if old people are on it goes - "See-saw, Marjory Daw," just gently. I trust, dear children, that all these facts will make you appreciate more the hilly-cum-go, and when you sit on it so cosy, so intimate with the street, riding along looking at the scenery, you will be thankful, that poor old horses do not have to tug you up hill, and that you have |
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