pair of full-grown men, they had some difficulty in
keeping their saddles and working their treadles at one and the same
time. They had to part company with the latter when they went down, and
catch them flying as they came up; and the result was not always elegant
or swift. However, they managed to pass muster in some sort, as they
started off under the eye of their master, and as speedily as possible
dodged their vehicle up a side lane, where, free from embarrassing
publicity, they were at leisure to adapt their progress to their own
convenience.

It wasn't quite as much fun as they had expected. The machine was a
heavy one, and laboured a good deal in its going. The treadles, as I
have said, were very long; the brake did not always act, and the
steering apparatus was stiff. Even the bell, in whose music they had
promised themselves some solace, was out of tune; and the road was very
like a ploughed field. The gaiety of the boys toned down into sobriety,
and the sobriety into silence, and their silence into the ill-humour
begotten of perspiration, dust, fatigue, and disappointment. Their high
old time was not coming off!

At length, by mutual consent, they got off and began viciously to shove
the machine up the hill.

"They'll all be there already," said Arthur, looking at his watch.
"We've been two hours."

"I wish I'd walked with them," said Dig.

"Pity you didn't," growled Arthur, "you aren't very lively company."

"Anyhow, I've done my share of the fag. You and Marky may bring the
beast home."

This altercation might have proceeded to painful lengths, had not a
diversion occurred in their arrival at the crest of the hill.

Any ordinary traveller would have stood and admired the beautiful view--
the finest, it was said, in the county. But Arthur and Dig were in no
humour for artistic raptures. The sight of the abbey towers peeping cut
in the valley among the trees, and of the silver river which curled past
it, suggested to them no thoughts of historic grandeur--no meditations
on the pathetic beauty of ruin. It made them smell oysters and hear the
popping of lemonade corks, and reminded them they had still two long
miles to go before lunch.

"Get on, sharp," said Arthur, climbing into his saddle, "it won't take
us long to go down the hill."

It didn't! They did the distance, a mile and a half, in about three
minutes. The brake came to grief the moment they started, and they had
nothing for