The little engine roared and then stopped. Adam sat back for a moment, limp but proud, before he got out. The postmaster looked out between the bars of his golden grill. "I see you've got one of the damn things," he said. "Have to keep up with the times," said Adam. "I predict there'll come a time when you can't find a horse, Mr. Trask.""Maybe so."They'll change the face of the countryside. They get their clatter into everything," the postmaster went on.
-John Steinbeck
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