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Ill.u.s.tration: LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES.--
_Motorist._ "Conductor! How can I strike the Harrow road?"
_Conductor._ "'Arrer road? Let's see. Second to right, third to--it's a good way, sir. I tell 'ee, sir. Just follow that green bus over there; that'll take you right to it!"
WONDERS ON WHEELS
(_By an Old Beginner_)
Wonder if my doctor was right in ordering me to take this sort of exercise.
Wonder whether I look very absurd while accepting the a.s.sistance of an attendant who walks by my side and keeps me from falling by clutches at my waistbelt.
Wonder whether it would have been better to go to Hyde Park instead of Battersea.
Wonder whether the policeman, the postman, the nurse with the perambulator, the young lady reading the novel, and the deck pa.s.sengers on the pa.s.sing steamboat are laughing at me.
Wonder whether I shall keep on now that my attendant has let go.
Wonder whether the leading wheel will keep straight on until we have pa.s.sed that lamp-post.
Wonder whether the next spill I have will be less painful than the last.
Wonder why mats are not laid down by the County Council in the roads for the comfort of falling cyclists.
Wonder why the cycle suddenly doubled up and landed me in the gutter.
Wonder whether the pretty girl in the hat, whose face is hidden by a novel, smiled at my misadventure.
Wonder whether the person who has just come to grief over yonder is using good language or words of an inferior quality.
Wonder whether my attendant is right in urging me to remount and have another try.
Wonder whether I look well wobbling.
Wonder whether the elderly spinster with the anxious manner and air of determination is really enjoying herself.
Wonder whether, when I have completed my first hour, I shall want another.
Wonder whether the imp of a boy will run with me.
Wonder whether my second fall in five minutes beats the record.
Wonder, considering the difficulty of progressing half a dozen paces in as many minutes, how those marvellous feats are performed at Olympia.
Wonder if I shall ever advance upon my present rate of speed, _i.e._, three-quarters of a mile an hour.
Wonder, finally, if the placards warning cyclists in Battersea Park against the dangers of "furious riding" can possibly be posted for my edification.
THE SCORCHER
He travels along at the top of his speed, You might think that his life was at stake; To beauties of nature he never pays heed, For the record he's trying to break.
He stiffens his muscles and arches his back As if he were still on the cinder-path track.
He races regardless of life and of limb, Caring naught for the folk in his way; For chickens and children are nothing to him, And his mad career nothing can stay; So wildly he wheels as if urged by a goad; By coachmen he's christened "the curse of the road."
He'll pa.s.s on the left and he'll ride on the right, For the rules of the road caring naught; His lamp he will not take the trouble to light Till a pretty smart lesson he's taught.
But lecture and fine him as much as you will, The trail of the scorcher is over him still.
RHYME FOR RECORD-MAKERS
Rattle-it, rattle-it, "Biking" man; Make us a "record" as fast as you can; Score it, and print it as large as life, And someone will "cut" it ere you can say knife!
Ill.u.s.tration: Unwilling to give up horses altogether, Captain Pelham effected a compromise. His first appearance in the park created quite a sensation.
Ill.u.s.tration: FLATTERY--WITH AN OBJECT
_Jocasta_ (_with an axe of her own to grind, ingratiatingly_). "Oh yes, papa, it does suit you. I never saw you look so nice in anything before!"
Ill.u.s.tration: MEMS FOR MOTORISTS.--If your car suddenly appears to drag heavily, you may be sure there is something to account for it.
Ill.u.s.tration: "Have you ever tried riding without the handles? It's delightfully easy, all but the corners."
Ill.u.s.tration: !!! So it seems!
BROKEN ON THE WHEEL
_First Lesson._--Held on by instructor, a tall, muscular young man.