A man was driving his Healey through Wyoming one spring evening. The
road was deserted
and he had not seen a soul for what seemed like hours. Suddenly his
car
started to cough and splutter and the engine slowly died away, leaving
him
sitting by the road in total silence.
He popped the hood and looked to see if there was anything that he
could do
to get it going again. Unfortunately, he had a limited knowledge of
British cars, so
all he could do was look at the engine, feeling despondent.
As he peered by the gradually fading light of his flashlight, he
cursed that
he had not put in new batteries, like he had promised himself.
Suddenly, through the inky shadows, came a deep voice, "It's your fuel
pump." The man jumped up quickly striking his head on the underside of
the
bonnet. "Who said that?" he demanded.
There were two horses standing in the field alongside and the man was
amazed
when the nearest of the two horses repeated, "It's your fuel pump, tap
it
with your flashlight, and try it again."
Confused, the man took the rear jump seat out, tapped the fuel pump
with his flashlight, turned the key
and sure enough, the engine roared into life. He muttered a short
thanks to
the horse and screeched away.
When he reached the next town, he ran into the local bar. "Large
whiskey,
please!" he said.
A rancher sitting at the bar looked at the man's ashen face and asked,
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"It's unbelievable," the man said and recalled the whole tale to the
rancher. The rancher took a sip of his beer and looked thoughtful. "A
horse,
you say? Was it by any chance a white horse?" The man replied to the
affirmative. "Yes it was! Am I crazy?"
"No, you ain't crazy. In fact, you're lucky," said the rancher
"because the
black horse don't know nothing about cars".
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