_First Lesson._--Held on by instructor, a tall, muscular young man.
Thought it was so easy. Cling for dear life to handle, as beginners in
horsemanship cling to the reins. Instructor says I must not. Evidently
cannot hold on by my knees. Ask him what I am to hold on by. "Nothing,"
he says. How awful! Feel suspended in the air. That is what I ought to
be. At present am more on ground; anyway one foot down. Even when in
movement position of feet uncertain. Go a few yards, supported. Muscular
instructor rather hot and tired, but says civilly, "You're getting on
nicely, sir." At this get off unexpectedly, and, when I am picked up,
reply, "Very likely," only my feet were off the pedals all the time.
Then rest, and watch little children riding easily. One pretty girl.
Wonder whether she laughed at me. Probably. Shall have another try.
_Second Lesson._--Held on by another instructor, who urges me "to put
more life into it." Hope it won't be the death of me. Work in a manner
which even the treadmill, I imagine, could not necessitate, and get the
wheel round a few times. Painful wobbling. Instructor says I must pedal
more quickly. Can't. Rest a minute. Panting. Awfully hot. Observe little
children going round comfortably. Pretty girl here again, looking as
fresh and cool as possible. Suddenly manage to ride three yards
unsupported. Then collapse. But am progressing. Shall come again soon.
_Third Lesson._--Endeavour to get on alone. Immediately get off on other
side. Nearly upset the pretty girl. Polite self-effacement impossible
when one is at the mercy of a mere machine. After a time manage better.
And at last get started and ride alone for short distances. Always
tumble off ignominiously just as I meet the pretty girl. Instructor
urges me to break the record. Hope I shan't break my neck. Finally go
all round the ground. Triumph! Pretty girl seems less inclined to laugh.
Delightful exercise, bicycle riding! Shall come again to-morrow.
_Fourth Lesson._--High north-east wind. Hot sun. Regular May weather.
Clouds of coal-dust from track. Pretty girl not there at all. Start
confidently. Endeavour to knock down a wall. Wall does not suffer much.
Start again. Faster this time. The pretty girl has just come. Will show
what I can do now. Career over large hole. Bicycle sinks, and then takes
a mighty leap. Unprepared for this. Am cast into the air. Picked up.
Can't stand. Something broken. Doctor will say what. Anyhow, clothes
torn, bruised, disheartened. Dare not catch the eye of pretty girl.
Carried home. Shall give up bicycle riding. Awful fag, and no fun.
* * * * *
In its "Hints for Bicyclists," _Home Chat_ says: "A little fuller's
earth dusted inside the stockings, socks and gloves, keeps the feet
cool." Nothing, however, is said of the use of rubber soles as a
protection against sunstroke.
* * * * *