It may interest your readers to learn that I, at the age of fifty-two years and three months, have just acquired an MG Midget, Mark III!
Hoping to be a grandparent in April, I didn’t want the baby to think that she or he had a stodgy granny. What a terrific thrill seeing my little car in the garage showroom, mirror-polished and rearing to go.
A short demonstration, then taking over the wheel; what a gearbox, superbly comfortable, handling perfect, and vision excellent. After driving an Austin Mini for the last five years, the gear changing might well be compared to the ease of spreading a soft brand of margarine on a new loaf, and that of a Mini to trying to use butter straight from the fridge.
Only one small problem to start with; I frequently lost the accelerator—much to the relief of the demonstrator.
To get geared up for my new lease of life I bought my first copy of your magazine, and enjoyed every page; from now on I’m going to be a regular reader. The MG is great, and so is your magazine!
M. E. Bartlett (Mrs.)
My heart bleeds for your correspondent J. B. Chapman in his quest for a motor-car which will carry him and his family in the style to which they are accustomed. As far as I can gather from sly observation, my husband’s priorities for the ideal motor-machine are these:
1. That the beast shall cost less than £100.
2. That it and its M.o.T. certificate shall expire at about the same time.
3. That it shall weigh a maximum of 30 cwt., since this (plus spouse) is the greatest weight that I have been known to push—on the day when the fuel gauge became mendacious rather than merely inoperative during the 5 p.m. rush.
Ménage Chapman doesn’t know what it is missing!
Veryan Boorman (Mrs.)