XVIITHE HON. GASOLENE

San Francisco, July 5th.

To Editor New York Newspaper, celebrated for its Nationality and nice printing.

Dear Sir—What say Hon. Galileo when enjoying execution by ax? He say, “This World do move!” Then neck-chop ensue to interrupt that great thought at wind-pipe. If Japanese Boy was there he would enquire to know, “What do move this World, please?” Answer for this reply is: “Hon. Gasolene do!”

One quaint American proverb say, “Where there is Smoke there is Blazes.” This is especially truthful about Pittsburgh. Yet how much more proverbial it would be to say it, “Where there is Smell there is Speed.” I know because!

Mr. Editor, I do not possess of my ownership any automobiles, but my cousin Nogi gave me acquaintance to Hon. G. W. Yosho, celebrated coachman for all tour-cars. This Yosho wear rubber uniform of Japanese Field Marshal. He appear to look like Marquis Oyama, but is much more important about it. I reverence himbecause he have killed several Americans and some Christians.

“Hon. Yosho,” I collapse with Japanese salute, “nobody not yet have invited me to ride in one.”

“Maybe so it might,” he subdivide with forgetful expression.

“Do automobiles make persons civilized?” I require for answer.

“Ask the Motor Man!” signify this Hon. Yosho making buzz-buzz of machinery and disappear with considerable odour. Soonly I hope to become a dear acquaintance to this Yosho who would be a very nice friend for chumb.

Next I go to livery stable where automobiles is kept. There I met Motor Man who suspect me of being Japanese Count ambitious to buy one. I become immediately deceptive. He suffocate me with international courtesy. He show me several tour-cars of delicious machinery.

“How much for price of red automobile?” I enquire to know.

“Red automobile is $8,000 by price, Mr. Count,” he collapse with politeness.

“How much for price of green automobile?” I ask for haughty reply.

“Green automobile is $2,000 for price, Hon. Sir,” he dictate for reverence.

“There I meet Motor Man who ... suffocate me with international courtesy”

“Quite well,” I retrograde. “Then paint red automobile green and Japanese Boy will take it for $2,000.”

This Motor Man hesitate to do. So he donate to me one cigar of value 25c and we enjoy a very elaborate interview about Hon. Gasolene which is a wonderfully civilized drug. By ancient history, say this Motor Man, Hon. Gasolene was a very hummbel medicine. It was principally useful for removing raspberries from gloves and could be employed in cook-stoves for explosions. Gasolene was next discovered to be one nice chemical for insurance. This gave it publick interest which made it necessary for all forms of motor. (“What is home without a motor?” require little Annie Anazuma, who have a flashy mind for 9 year age.)

Gasolene is so easy to distinguish from cologne that it appear deceptive. “Though lost to sight to memory strong” and “Gone, but not forgotten” was once fashionable for funerals. Them remarks is now mostly heard at automobile races.

Hon. Gasolene will make great civilization for future, say Motor Man. Niagara Falls will be runned by this fuel, machinery of Congress will go by gasolene-motor, farmers will turn horse-stable into garage and gather hay by gasolene.Warfare of future, say Motor Man, will be shot off by Hon. Gasolene. Japanese imperial Horse Guards on prancing motor-cycles will make desperation of charge on Gen. Kouropatkin with light runabout division on left wing while automobile batteries from hills will make considerable banzai with Shimose powder & fireworks. By shot & shell, shout-call, enjoyment of death & wounds, long red line of touring-cars will charge from trenches while all day long them commissary-buggies will make hurry-up trip to firing-line to bring more gasolene from Army Canteen. Japanese air-navy of fly-machines will do something, too, probably, with them 1,000 horsepower aromatic engines. O such delightful banzai! Fierce honking from all sides, sharp report of punctuated tires—Nippon forever! On, men of Nagasaki! Let us shed last drop of gasolene for home & garage.

This is future warfare by Hon. Gasolene. What say Hebrew Prophet? “He smelleth the battle from away off and he yelleth ‘O my!’”

This Motor Man tell me some serious truth about Hon. Gasolene when took internally by victims. It is a very habitual drug like cocktails, cocaine, opium-smoke and Peruna. When continually enjoyed by human interior it make result of one very nervous disease what hon.doctor-book calllocomobile ataxia. When you have got this sickness, Mr. Editor, you will know it by following course of symptoms:

1—When tour-carring on roadway you suddenly find out you are too slow.2—You mortgage on home to buy something of swift red colour.3—You are greedy to break it. You break record, speed-law & crank-shaft in short period. Then you break neck and quit it.4—You go to hospital to forget wife & child.5—You deceive doctor by honking yourself to death.

1—When tour-carring on roadway you suddenly find out you are too slow.

2—You mortgage on home to buy something of swift red colour.

3—You are greedy to break it. You break record, speed-law & crank-shaft in short period. Then you break neck and quit it.

4—You go to hospital to forget wife & child.

5—You deceive doctor by honking yourself to death.

If you have done them symptoms, Mr. Editor, you had better worry, because you are a ill person.

One great sporty event is now approaching to Pacific Coast by inches. It is that trip of horse-racing automobiles travelling by snow-plough from New York to Paris. Them automobiles is quite international and has been froze to death in four languages already. They expects to enjoy Alaska & Siberia in the same way. Shuddering is unpleasant to such heroes.

Sydney Katsu, Jr., Japanese dentistry, desire to make bet-sum of money with me for $1. I aman entirely sporting Japanese, Mr. Editor. I am willing to risk enormous sum of money if I am sure I can be able to get it back with interest at some proper percentage. I am disagreeable about any bet what is a speculation; but I am recklus about gambling when it is a good investment. Therefore, what car will win? America car is now most patriotic about getting ahead—yet what would happen to my money if that automobile should enjoy train-wreck while going over Rocky Mountains in Pullman car?

I follow this race for one weektime by press-notice and get these excitable items to inclose for you:

Monday—American car drawn by Hon. Bill Pirkins’ tame mare “Florence” forges 101 yards through snow-drift.Tuesday—Italian-speaking car, driven by 2-mule-power borrowed from Hon. Rube Brown, make entry to Paris, Neb.Wednesday—Italian mules pass American 1-horse-power mare.Thursday—American snow-plow “Governor Hughes” set pace for all comers.Friday—Hay is distributed along racecourse by gallant American troups so that motor-power can stop for lunch.Saturday—French car “Motor-Block” discovered in Chicago speaking the language.

Monday—American car drawn by Hon. Bill Pirkins’ tame mare “Florence” forges 101 yards through snow-drift.

Tuesday—Italian-speaking car, driven by 2-mule-power borrowed from Hon. Rube Brown, make entry to Paris, Neb.

Wednesday—Italian mules pass American 1-horse-power mare.

Thursday—American snow-plow “Governor Hughes” set pace for all comers.

Friday—Hay is distributed along racecourse by gallant American troups so that motor-power can stop for lunch.

Saturday—French car “Motor-Block” discovered in Chicago speaking the language.

“How will them motoring-cars go it in Alaska where horses is scarce to find?” Sydney Katsu, Jr., enquire for tip.

“Dogs is very obliging as beast of burden in them arctick,” I relapse. “In Siberia reindeers of very high gear is pleasant for automobiling.”

“Large supplies of Hon. Gasolene is necessary for such trip,” say that light-mind Sydney.

“Large supply of Hon. Oats is more better for fuel,” I relapse with American eye-wink.

Please enjoy this poetry which I make to look like it:

O-Moto-san, O-Loco-san,My soul is agreeable tonight!Am I? It seems to be I am recliningAmong the Irish-flowers of dear Japan,Such fragral!Birds is songing from memory,Breezes is also there to some extent;Japanese Boy is there by moonlightTo naturally take it pleasantly—And yet he do not!!O why, then? Because this:Mountain Fujiyama is setting on his breastbone expecting to remain for conversation about topicks.Japanese Boy is very polite to this FujiBecause it is entirely holy.So he speak gentle,Gentle like cockroaches waltzing on Brussels carpets.“O Fuji,” dictate this Boy,“You are too elderly to mention, place of thundering climate & sacred mildew, nice peak for sublime thought, also for Hon. Tourist to pay guide make walk-up—Excuse me, please, when I express itHow I feel you was more better beenWhere you was than where you is.Therefore I hint you get from offFrom my collarbone, if convenient!”But Fuji, important hill,Make rumbling from fire in nose.“Togo,” he say,“You know what about Japan?It have got one new god to run everything!”“What called is this diety person?” I collapse.“He is called Hon. Gasolene,” say Fuji.(I make American eye-wink)“Prior gods of Japan led Simply Life,Water God turn wheel,Air God blow sail,Fire God bake potatoes—Then what say-so Japan?‘Too slow!!’Japan say, ‘Look what’s there!Why do America wheelGo buzz-around so fastly?How she do-it make Waterbury watchIncluding soap and other civilization?How she do-it which make Marquis of St. LouisSpeed-away all timeIn red chug-chug jinrikisha?’Then answer one great Japanese scientist,‘Gasolene, please!’With such result,” deject O-Fujiyama,“Japan get hurry-off-do-quickBang-up, slam-down, bust-trust excitement.Temple bells is rung by steam,Shrines of ancestors whistle like factory,Gods of Japan is buying tickets for Nirvana—So long for all them happy history,Fare-bye, times of dear gone off!Japan is getting too smartFor old fashion Volcano.”With such say-soHon. Fujiyama kick Japanese BoyOutside of his dream.Wake to dawn-rise, Japanese Boy,Eject yourself to duty of day!Morn has cameAnd hymn of praise is telling about it from 85c alarm clock and doing so quite well, thank you!

O-Moto-san, O-Loco-san,

My soul is agreeable tonight!

Am I? It seems to be I am reclining

Among the Irish-flowers of dear Japan,

Such fragral!

Birds is songing from memory,

Breezes is also there to some extent;

Japanese Boy is there by moonlight

To naturally take it pleasantly—

And yet he do not!!

O why, then? Because this:

Mountain Fujiyama is setting on his breastbone expecting to remain for conversation about topicks.

Japanese Boy is very polite to this Fuji

Because it is entirely holy.

So he speak gentle,

Gentle like cockroaches waltzing on Brussels carpets.

“O Fuji,” dictate this Boy,

“You are too elderly to mention, place of thundering climate & sacred mildew, nice peak for sublime thought, also for Hon. Tourist to pay guide make walk-up—

Excuse me, please, when I express it

How I feel you was more better been

Where you was than where you is.

Therefore I hint you get from off

From my collarbone, if convenient!”

But Fuji, important hill,

Make rumbling from fire in nose.

“Togo,” he say,

“You know what about Japan?

It have got one new god to run everything!”

“What called is this diety person?” I collapse.

“He is called Hon. Gasolene,” say Fuji.

(I make American eye-wink)

“Prior gods of Japan led Simply Life,

Water God turn wheel,

Air God blow sail,

Fire God bake potatoes—

Then what say-so Japan?

‘Too slow!!’

Japan say, ‘Look what’s there!

Why do America wheel

Go buzz-around so fastly?

How she do-it make Waterbury watch

Including soap and other civilization?

How she do-it which make Marquis of St. Louis

Speed-away all time

In red chug-chug jinrikisha?’

Then answer one great Japanese scientist,

‘Gasolene, please!’

With such result,” deject O-Fujiyama,

“Japan get hurry-off-do-quick

Bang-up, slam-down, bust-trust excitement.

Temple bells is rung by steam,

Shrines of ancestors whistle like factory,

Gods of Japan is buying tickets for Nirvana—

So long for all them happy history,

Fare-bye, times of dear gone off!

Japan is getting too smart

For old fashion Volcano.”

With such say-so

Hon. Fujiyama kick Japanese Boy

Outside of his dream.

Wake to dawn-rise, Japanese Boy,Eject yourself to duty of day!Morn has cameAnd hymn of praise is telling about it from 85c alarm clock and doing so quite well, thank you!

Wake to dawn-rise, Japanese Boy,

Eject yourself to duty of day!

Morn has came

And hymn of praise is telling about it from 85c alarm clock and doing so quite well, thank you!

Once more to speak of crime and then not to mention Gasolene again. I hear by editorial print how 12,000,000 mans has been arrested in automobiles for past year. All forms of burglary, including murder & assassination, has been much less arrested than this. Therefore it prove how sinful is automobiles.

American society is divided into two sharp classes with police between them. Them who has automobiles is called Predatory Rich, them who has not is called Propaganders. When Socialism is elected each person will have 1 automobile;but them machinery will be out of style by then-time. Such a discouraging thought to enjoy!

Yours truly,

Hashimura Togo.

S. P.—I enquire to know from my Cousin Nogi, “Why is automobiles painted blue?”

“To distinguish them from horses which is seldom found in them fast colours,” collapse that idle Japanese.

Is this scientifick fact?

H. T.

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