King of the Air

Mr. John Greatorex was very wealthy, and very obstinate. He had made a large fortune as a manufacturer of chemicals, but disclaimed any knowledge of chemistry. He had dabbled a little in mechanics, and was convinced that he possessed an accurate practical knowledge of its applications. Consequently, when his new motor-car arrived, he saw no necessity to take a chauffeur with him on its trial spin. He was like a child with a new toy, jealous of participation.
“My dear,” said Mrs. Greatorex, as she handed him his motor goggles, “are you sure you will not take Timothy? What if it breaks down?”
“My love,” said Mr. Greatorex in his emphatic way, “I do not want Timothy. It will not break down. If it does, I flatter myself I am competent to make any necessary repairs. I shall be back at seven-thirty—in good time for dinner; and I hope and trust the soup will not be cold.” 10
He gave a preliminary honk! honk! looking round with a smile that plainly said, “There! you see that everything is in order!” Then he steered the car accurately down the drive to the road.