This is my yellow and black Austin when I was in the 10th grade at about age 15. We lived on Ninth Avenue N, which my father said was too dangerous for me as the street I would take to St. Pete High (on a bicycle). It was small compared with other cars back then.
I believe the Austins were built in England. They had 12-inch glass side windows and a well-designed cloth top made of canvas and held up by rods when needed. My father gave me 18 cents every Monday morning for gasoline — 1 gallon for the week (this gives an idea what the economy was then). I never ran out of fuel and never had any problem with the engine that I recall. Finally, I had to give up my beloved little car when it was time to enter Florida State University. It was a sad day for me when I heard that Dad had sold my car but "all good things must come to an end," they say. I had a wonderful marriage for 64 years. No complaints. It was a wonderful, happy life!