“I’ll tell you. I don’t mind the young generation smelling of gasoline the way it does — ”

Cries and protests drowned Dick out for a moment.

“I know I smell of it myself,” he went on. “But you’ve all failed to learn the good old modes of locomotion. There isn’t a girl of you that Paula can’t walk into the ground. There isn’t a fellow of you that Graham and I can’t walk into a receiving hospital. — Oh, I know you can all crank engines and shift gears to the queen’s taste. But there isn’t one of you that can properly ride a horse — a real horse, in the only way, I mean. As for driving a smart pair of roadsters, it’s a screech. And how many of you husky lads, hell-scooting on the bay