A Brush Hollow Tale


“He probably never would of,” responded Terminal, “but he was awalking home that night when OF Kit come by with the hog. He could just barely make out the horse, but the hog showed up real white and scary, and Paw was sure it was his second cousin going by. He figured it was a sign sent to show him the dangers of horse transportation, and the first thing next morning he went in town and bought the car.

“Course when I heard about it I knew better, but I wasn’t about to put him right. Well, I promised these boys a ride, so I can’t give you one now. But next time I get the car, look for me. I’ll give you a spin you’ll remember.”

This last was shouted over his shoulder as he drove toward the road. As though to confirm his statement that any ride with him would be memorable, he uprooted a snowball bush and bounced off a gatepost on the way.

Some time later the elder Cosgrove stopped one day to call. He had learned that the “sign” was an unusual but natural phenomenon and not of supernatural origin as he had inferred, but he proved philosophical about the whole affair.


“One thing, though,” he said. “This having a car is kind of disruptive. Soon as one boy drives in to eat or sleep, another hops in and away he goes. I never know who will be around to do the milking. I bought that car six weeks ago Saturday, and the radiator’s never stopped boiling since.

“I been reading that little book, and it sounds like it might be easy to run the thing. You just push down on a pedal, and she starts. Let up on the pedal, and away you go, maybe thirty miles an hour. Why, that’s as fast as the harness racers go out at the fairground racetrack.”

He leaned closer and lowered his voice, as one might in confiding some rather embarrassing secret to a friend. “You know what?” he said. “One of these days the boys will get careless or fed up and leave the thing where I can get my hands on it, and I’m going to climb in and give it a whirl. Who knows? By gonnies, I might get to like it.”