By Carolyn Wells
With illustrations by Frederick Strothmann
To the crank that
makes the machine go
Wake! For the “Honk”, that scatters into flight
The Hens before it in a Flapping Fright,
Drives straight up to your Door, and bids you Come
Out for a Morning Hour of Sheer Delight!
Come, fill the Tank, adjust the Valve and Spring,
Your Automobile Garments 'round you Fling;
The Bird of Time wants but to get away;
(I think that name’s a rather Clever Thing!)
And as the Corkscrew drawing out the Cork,
I crank my Car and try to make it work.
You know how little while we have to Ride;
And once departed, may go to New York.