three men on the bummel-第29节

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anxiety；　slumber　upon　a　water…bed　cannot　compare　with　bicycle…
riding　upon　a　hilly　road。　　No　fairy　travelling　on　a　summer　cloud
could　take　things　more　easily　than　does　the　bicycle　girl；　according
to　the　poster。　　Her　costume　for　cycling　in　hot　weather　is　ideal。
Old…fashioned　landladies　might　refuse　her　lunch；　it　is　true；　and　a
narrowminded　police　force　might　desire　to　secure　her；　and　wrap　her
in　a　rug　preliminary　to　summonsing　her。　　But　such　she　heeds　not。
Uphill　and　downhill；　through　traffic　that　might　tax　the　ingenuity
of　a　cat；　over　road　surfaces　calculated　to　break　the　average　steam
roller　she　passes；　a　vision　of　idle　loveliness；　her　fair　hair
streaming　to　the　wind；　her　sylph…like　form　poised　airily；　one　foot
upon　the　saddle；　the　other　resting　lightly　upon　the　lamp。
Sometimes　she　condescends　to　sit　down　on　the　saddle；　then　she　puts
her　feet　on　the　rests；　lights　a　cigarette；　and　waves　above　her　head
a　Chinese　lantern。

Less　often；　it　is　a　mere　male　thing　that　rides　the　machine。　　He　is
not　so　accomplished　an　acrobat　as　is　the　lady；　but　simple　tricks；
such　as　standing　on　the　saddle　and　waving　flags；　drinking　beer　or
beef…tea　while　riding；　he　can　and　does　perform。　　Something；　one
supposes；　he　must　do　to　occupy　his　mind：　　sitting　still　hour　after
hour　on　this　machine；　having　no　work　to　do；　nothing　to　think　about；
must　pall　upon　any　man　of　active　temperament。　　Thus　it　is　that　we
see　him　rising　on　his　pedals　as　he　nears　the　top　of　some　high　hill
to　apostrophise　the　sun；　or　address　poetry　to　the　surrounding
scenery。

Occasionally　the　poster　pictures　a　pair　of　cyclists；　and　then　one
grasps　the　fact　how　much　superior　for　purposes　of　flirtation　is　the
modern　bicycle　to　the　old…fashioned　parlour　or　the　played…out
garden　gate。　　He　and　she　mount　their　bicycles；　being　careful；　of
course；　that　such　are　of　the　right　make。　　After　that　they　have
nothing　to　think　about　but　the　old　sweet　tale。　　Down　shady　lanes；
through　busy　towns　on　market　days；　merrily　roll　the　wheels　of　the
〃Bermondsey　Company's　Bottom　Bracket　Britain's　Best；〃　or　of　the
〃Camberwell　Company's　Jointless　Eureka。〃　　They　need　no　pedalling；
they　require　no　guiding。　　Give　them　their　heads；　and　tell　them　what
time　you　want　to　get　home；　and　that　is　all　they　ask。　　While　Edwin
leans　from　his　saddle　to　whisper　the　dear　old　nothings　in
Angelina's　ear；　while　Angelina's　face；　to　hide　its　blushes；　is
turned　towards　the　horizon　at　the　back；　the　magic　bicycles　pursue
their　even　course。

And　the　sun　is　always　shining　and　the　roads　are　always　dry。　　No
stern　parent　rides　behind；　no　interfering　aunt　beside；　no　demon
small　boy　brother　is　peeping　round　the　corner；　there　never　comes　a
skid。　　Ah　me！　　Why　were　there　no　〃Britain's　Best〃　nor　〃Camberwell
Eurekas〃　to　be　hired　when　WE　were　young？

Or　maybe　the　〃Britain's　Best〃　or　the　〃Camberwell　Eureka〃　stands
leaning　against　a　gate；　maybe　it　is　tired。　　It　has　worked　hard　all
the　afternoon；　carrying　these　young　people。　　Mercifully　minded；
they　have　dismounted；　to　give　the　machine　a　rest。　　They　sit　upon
the　grass　beneath　the　shade　of　graceful　boughs；　it　is　long　and　dry
grass。　　A　stream　flows　by　their　feet。　　All　is　rest　and　peace。

That　is　ever　the　idea　the　cycle　poster　artist　sets　himself　to
conveyrest　and　peace。

But　I　am　wrong　in　saying　that　no　cyclist；　according　to　the　poster；
ever　works。　　Now　I　come　to　reflect；　I　have　seen　posters
representing　gentlemen　on　cycles　working　very　hardover…working
themselves；　one　might　almost　say。　　They　are　thin　and　haggard　with
the　toil；　the　perspiration　stands　upon　their　brow　in　beads；　you
feel　that　if　there　is　another　hill　beyond　the　poster　they　must
either　get　off　or　die。　　But　this　is　the　result　of　their　own　folly。
This　happens　because　they　will　persist　in　riding　a　machine　of　an
inferior　make。　　Were　they　riding　a　〃Putney　Popular〃　or　〃Battersea
Bounder；〃　such　as　the　sensible　young　man　in　the　centre　of　the
poster　rides；　then　all　this　unnecessary　labour　would　be　saved　to
them。　　Then　all　required　of　them　would　be；　as　in　gratitude　bound；
to　look　happy；　perhaps；　occasionally　to　back…pedal　a　little　when
the　machine　in　its　youthful　buoyancy　loses　its　head　for　a　moment
and　dashes　on　too　swiftly。

You　tired　young　men；　sitting　dejectedly　on　milestones；　too　spent　to
heed　the　steady　rain　that　soaks　you　through；　you　weary　maidens；
with　the　straight；　damp　hair；　anxious　about　the　time；　longing　to
swear；　not　knowing　how；　you　stout　bald　men；　vanishing　visibly　as
you　pant　and　grunt　along　the　endless　road；　you　purple；　dejected
matrons；　plying　with　pain　the　slow　unwilling　wheel；　why　did　you　not
see　to　it　that　you　bought　a　〃Britain's　Best〃　or　a　〃Camberwell
Eureka〃？　　Why　are　these　bicycles　of　inferior　make　so　prevalent
throughout　the　land

Or　is　it　with　bicycling　as　with　all　other　things：　　does　Life　at　no
point　realise　the　Poster？

The　one　thing　in　Germany　that　never　fails　to　charm　and　fascinate　me
is　the　German　dog。　　In　England　one　grows　tired　of　the　old　breeds；
one　knows　them　all　so　well：　　the　mastiff；　the　plum…pudding　dog；　the
terrier　（black；　white　or　rough…haired；　as　the　case　may　be；　but
always　quarrelsome）；　the　collie；　the　bulldog；　never　anything　new。
Now　in　Germany　you　get　variety。　　You　come　across　dogs　the　like　of
which　you　have　never　seen　before：　　that　until　you　hear　them　bark
you　do　not　know　are　dogs。　　It　is　all　so　fresh；　so　interesting。
George　stopped　a　dog　in　Sigmaringen　and　drew　our　attention　to　it。
It　suggested　a　cross　between　a　codfish　and　a　poodle。　　I　would　not
like　to　be　positive　it　was　NOT　a　cross　between　a　codfish　and　a
poodle。　　Harris　tried　to　photograph　it；　but　it　ran　up　a　fence　and
disappeared　through　some　bushes。

I　do　not　know　what　the　German　breeder's　idea　is；　at　present　he
retains　his　secret。　　George　suggests　he　is　aiming　at　a　griffin。
There　is　much　to　bear　out　this　theory；　and　indeed　in　one　or　two
cases　I　have　come　across　success　on　these　lines　would　seem　to　have
been　almost　achieved。　　Yet　I　cannot　bring　myself　to　believe　that
such　are　anything　more　than　mere　accidents。　　The　German　is
practical；　and　I　fail　to　see　the　object　of　a　griffin。　　If　mere
quaintness　of　design　be　desired；　is　there　not　already　the
Dachshund！　　What　more　is　needed？　　Besides；　about　a　house；　a　griffin
would　be　so　inconvenient：　　people　would　be　continually　treading　on
its　tail。　　My　own　idea　is　that　what　the　Germans　are　trying　for　is　a
mermaid；　which　they　will　then　train　to　catch　fish。

For　your　German　does　not　encourage　laziness　in　any　living　thing。
He　likes　to　see　his　dogs　work；　and　the　German　dog　loves　work；　of
that　there　can　be　no　doubt。　　The　life　of　the　English　dog　must　be　a
misery　to　him。　　Imagine　a　strong；　active；　and　intelligent　being；　of
exceptionally　energetic　temperament；　condemned　to　spend　twenty…four
hours　a　day　in　absolute　idleness！　　How　would　you　like　it　yourself？
No　wonder　he　feels　misunderstood；　yearns　for　the　unattainable；　and
gets　himself　into　trouble　generally。

Now　the　German　dog；　on　the　other　hand；　has　plenty　to　occupy　his
mind。　　He　is　busy　and　important。　　Watch　him　as　he　walks　along
harnessed　to　his　milk　cart。　　No　churchwarden　at　collection　time
could　feel　or　look　more　pleased　with　himself。　　He　does　not　do　any
real　work；　the　human　being　does　the　pushing；　he　does　the　barking；
that　is　his　idea　of　division　of　labour。　　What　he　says　to　himself
is：

〃The　old　man　can't　bark；　but　he　can　shove。　　Very　well。〃

The　interest　and　the　pride　he　takes　in　the　business　is　quite
beautiful　to　see。　　Another　dog　passing　by　makes；　maybe；　some
jeering　remark；　casting　discredit　upon　the　creaminess　of　the　milk。
He　stops　suddenly；　quite　regardless　of　the　traffic。

〃I　beg　your　pardon；　what　was　that　you　said　about　our　milk？〃

〃I　said　nothing　about　your　milk；〃　retorts　the　other　dog；　in　a　tone
of　gentle　innocence。　　〃I　merely　said　it　was　a　fine　day；　and　asked
the　price　of　chalk。〃

〃Oh；　you　asked　the　price　of　chalk；　did　you？　　Would　you　like　to
know？〃

〃Yes；　thanks；　somehow　I　thought　you　would　be　able　to　tell　me。〃

〃You　are　quite　right；　I　can。　　It's　worth〃

〃Oh；　do　come　along！〃　says　the　old　lady；　who　is　tired　and　hot；　and
anxious　to　finish　her　round。

〃Yes；　but　hang　it　all；　did　you　hear　what　he　hinted　about　our　milk？〃

〃Oh；　never　mind　him！　　There's　a　tram　coming　round　the　corner：　　we
shall　all　get　run　over。〃

〃Yes；　but　I　do　mind　him；　one　has　one's　proper　pride。　　He　asked　the
price　of　chalk；　and　he's　going　to　know　it！　　It's　worth　just　twenty
times　as　much〃

〃You'll　have　the　whole　thing　over；　I　know　you　will；〃　cries　the　old
lady；　pathetically；　struggling　with　all　her　feeble　strength　to　haul
him　back。　　〃Oh　dear；　oh　dear！　　I　do　wish　I　had　left　you　at　home。〃

The　tram　is　bearing　down　upon　them；　a　cab…driver　is　shouting　at
them；　another　huge　brute；　hoping　to　be　in　time　to　take　a　hand；　is
dragging　a　bread　cart；　followed　by　a　screaming　child；　across　the
road　from　the　opposite　side；　a　small　crowd　is　collecting；　and　a
policeman　is　hastening　to　the　scene。

〃It's　worth；〃　says　the　milk　dog；　〃just　twenty…times　as　much　as
you'll　be　worth　before　I've　done　with　you。〃

〃Oh；　you　think　so；　do　you？〃

〃Yes；　I　do；　you　grandson　of　a　French　poodle；　you　cabbage…eating〃

〃There！　　I　knew　you'd　have　it　over；〃　says　the　poor　mi