The New Yorker, August 20, 1932 P. 7
Taxicabs grow weedlike in the streets of Manhattan but in lesser cities they are often as scarce as orchids. We were recently standing with luggage at the curb in a certain frontier town waiting to get to the station. A peanut vendor came along with an old Ford loaded down with peanuts, popcorn, and pop, but we got aboard and reached our destination.
