One day Parsley was out for a ramble when he nearly ran over a motor car.

It was that way round because the car was stationary at the time and very badly parked – right across one of the paths leading to Dill’s kennel. On a corner as well, so that Parsley didn’t see it until it was too late.

It was a very unusual sort of car. Not a bit like the ones he’d sometimes seen speeding along the road outside the Herb Garden. Although it had all the normal bits and pieces they somehow looked different. Even the horn was distinctly odd. Instead of working it from a button in the middle of the steering wheel, or even on a stalk sticking out from underneath, it consisted of a large black bulb joined to a curly brass object, not unlike a trumpet.

It worked too! Parsley tried it several times. He put his mouth to it and squeezed. ‘Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk!’

The third time he squeezed it he not only got a ‘Honk! Honk!’ but something else happened as well.

A strange-looking figure rose from behind the far side of the car. It was wearing a cloth cap and a silk scarf and it spoke.

‘Good afternoon, sir,’ it said. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Er … good afternoon,’ said Parsley, playing for time. ‘I … er … I was just browsing.’

‘Are you interested in this model, sir?’ asked the figure. ‘It’s a fine old specimen. You won’t find another like it in a hurry.’

Parsley took a closer look at the salesman. It not only looked like Dill. It sounded like him as well. In fact, it was Dill.

‘Where on earth did you get this?’ he asked.

‘My Uncle Mortimer left it to me,’ said Dill. ‘He passed on, you know.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Parsley. ‘I didn’t even know he’d been ill.’

‘Oh, he wasn’t,’ said Dill. ‘He just passed on. He left me the car because the back wheel fell … er … ahem …’ He hurried round to the back of the car and placed himself alongside one of the rear wings. ‘Pardon me,’ he exclaimed. ‘Just an attack of my old complaint. I say, are you really interested?’

Parsley pricked up his ears. ‘You mean – it’s for sale?’

‘If I can find a big enough … er … that is, someone big enough to appreciate the finer points of this magnificent specimen,’ said Dill. ‘This example of all that’s best in mechanical engineering …’

While he was talking Dill ushered Parsley towards the front of the car and leant on one of the headlamps.

‘The detachable headlamps …’ he added hastily as one of them clattered to the ground.

‘How much?’ asked Parsley.

‘Make me an offer!’ exclaimed Dill eagerly. ‘I can do easy payments if you like. Ten bones down and the rest over fifty years. You’ll have many happy hours … meandering through the countryside … listening to the radio …’

Parsley peered at the dashboard. ‘The radio?’ he said. ‘I can’t see any radio.’

‘You don’t see radio,’ said Dill. ‘You listen to it.’ He led the way back round the car and lifted up a lid at the back. ‘It’s here in the seat – behind the cocktail cabinet.’

Parsley gazed over his shoulder. ‘Cocktail cabinet?’ he exclaimed. ‘I don’t call a tool box with a chicken feather inside a cocktail cabinet.’

‘This is the Mark I model,’ said Dill. ‘I tell you, sir, if you buy this you won’t just be buying a motor car – you’ll be purchasing a work of art.’

‘Does it go?’ asked Parsley suspiciously.

‘Does it go?’ repeated Dill. ‘Does it go?’ He gave a hollow laugh.

‘Well,’ said Parsley. ‘Does it?’

‘This car,’ said Dill, ‘has an engine like a sewing machine.’

He pressed the starter. ‘Listen.’

‘It sounds more like a threshing machine to me!’ shouted Parsley above the roaring and the clanging and the banging. ‘How about the tyres?’

‘The tyres?’ cried Dill. He jumped down from the seat and hastily planted himself at the back of the car again. ‘I’m glad you mentioned those, sir. Very glad indeed. They’re the latest treadless variety. No rough edges to slow you down on corners. They’re so smooth you just carry straight on. You’ll glide along on these tyres, sir.’

A dreamy expression came over Parsley’s face as he listened to Dill talking. ‘I must say the idea’s very tempting,’ he began.

‘You’ll never regret buying it, sir,’ said Dill. ‘You have my word.’

‘That,’ said Parsley, ‘is the one thing that bothers me.’

‘Why not try sitting in the driving seat for a moment, sir,’ said Dill. ‘Familiarise yourself with the controls. I’ll just pop into my office and complete the formalities. Fill in the guarantee form …’

‘By Jove!’ said Parsley as he settled himself down. ‘This is the life.’ He pressed the horn bulb. ‘Honk! Honk!’

He’d hardly finished his first honk when Dill came rushing back with a piece of paper and a pen in his mouth.

‘Perhaps you’d just like to put your mark on here, sir,’ he announced.

‘That was quick,’ said Parsley.

‘Service with a laugh,’ said Dill brightly.

‘Don’t you mean a smile?’ asked Parsley.

Dill shook his head. ‘I know what I mean,’ he exclaimed knowingly.

‘Hullo, hullo!’ The familiar tones of Constable Knapweed rang out. ‘What’s going on here?’

He took out his notebook. ‘I suppose you realise this is a serious offence? ’Aving charge of a vehicle what is in an unroadworthy condition. To whit, minus a rear wheel!’

Parsley jumped out of the car in alarm. ‘Minus a rear wheel?’ he repeated.

‘I shall expect to see this put right before I get back,’ intoned Constable Knapweed, ‘or else …’

‘Fancy selling me a car without a rear wheel!’ said Parsley bitterly as Constable Knapweed went on his way.

‘You should have asked me about the optional extras,’ replied Dill primly.

‘I’ll give you optional extras!’ exclaimed Parsley. ‘What about my guarantee?’

‘I’m afraid it expired two minutes ago,’ said Dill. ‘I wish you’d come to me sooner. I’d take it back but there’s no call for this sort of car just now. The bottom’s dropped right out of the market.’

As he spoke he leant on the car and it fell over with a crash.

‘It sounds as though the bottom’s dropped out of my car as well,’ said Parsley. ‘Talk about a bone-shaker!’

‘A bone-shaker?’ Dill pricked up his ears. ‘Uncle Mortimer didn’t tell me it was one of those.’

He began running round and round in circles.

‘Shall we go for a quick spin?’ he asked excitedly. ‘I’ll get the spare wheel … It won’t take a moment …’

‘Isn’t it amazing!’ exclaimed Parsley, addressing the world in general as Dill busied himself with a hammer. ‘Just mention the word “bone” and he’s off like a shot.’

‘Right!’ called Dill. ‘I’ve got the spare wheel on. All set?’

Parsley climbed into the driving seat. ‘All set,’ he called. ‘Jump in. I’ll press the starter. Ready?’

‘Steady,’ called Dill.

‘Go!’ cried Parsley.

Bracing himself, he took his paw off the clutch and leant forward ready to move away. He wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but instead of going forward he found himself shooting backwards, only to end up seconds later against a nearby tree with a crash that seemed to jar every bone in his body.

‘That’s something else I forgot to mention,’ said Dill sadly as he clambered out. ‘You know that knob thing on top of the gear lever? The one that’s got forward and reverse written on it?’

Parsley held up a small black object. ‘You mean this?’ he asked.

‘It was on the wrong way round,’ said Dill. ‘You were in reverse.’

Parsley stared at him. ‘I’ll tell you something now,’ he growled. ‘Cars bring out the worst in people … and lions!’

‘Do they really?’ said Dill with interest. ‘Fancy that!’

‘Yes,’ said Parsley. ‘Normally quiet, inoffensive lions like me, for instance. They go right off dogs … especially dogs who set themselves up as car dealers! Grrrrrrdnight!’