The Passing Show The village garage is a sort of
centre for the youths of the place when they find time dragging on a Sunday afternoon and they sit along the wall, kicking their heels and idly watching the traffic or any car that is being filled up with petrol. Now and again an old car pulls in and the proprietor of the garage, who is petrol salesman and mechanic as well, gets down and examines the back axle or the sagging springs. The interest of the audience increases. They exchange a word or two in Welsh that is amusingly punctuated with such English nouns as " clutch-housing " and " shock absorber " and when the old car recovers and goes limping on its way, they bombard its owner with advice about steep hills and high speed. The garage proprietor watches the old crock's departure, kicks a bit of grit over the patch of oil it has left and smiles at his audience sitting there waiting. foi the next thing to turn up. Meanwhile, a clock strikes somewhere, marking an hour nearer the evening service in the chapel down the road.
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