The Apache Trail

The Psalm of the Motor

As wine is to a bibber, As a chorus girl is to a business man, And gum to a stenographer, So is new oil to my inwards.

It quieteth my gears And stoppeth the clacking of my valves. Yea verily it giveth me a new lease on life And sootheth my blistered bearings.

It maketh my cylinder's cool, And addeth pep to my pistonsIt lowereth my motormeter And stoppeth the boiling in my radiator.

Blessed is he that reneweth my oil, For unto him will I sing a mechanical song of harmonyUnto him will I be an eternal blessing Yea verily unto him will I give much pleasure, Like unto that of a fat pocketbook Or a loving wife.

Boastingly will he speak unto his friends of me, Yea even of my mileage will he talk, And of my pep and pickup will he rave.

But woe unto the man that neglecteth my oil, For verily in his hour of need will I forsake him; When he calleth unto me for speed I will stop; When he asketh for power I will miss; When he taketh me to a far country then will I be revenged, For I will throw my conn-rods and gnash my gears. Yea verily will I go dead in the midst of a desert. Better for that man had he never been born.WOE unto him that neglecteth my oil, But blessed is he that reneweth it.