nts, shall be actionable; and every
foot-passenger thus offending shall be bound over in the sum of L500
to keep the peace.

* * * * *

The Scotchman who tumbled off a bicycle says that in future he intends
to "let wheel alone."

* * * * *

Illustration: _Mabel's three bosom Friends_ (_all experts--who have run
round to see the Christmas gift_). "Hullo, Mab!. Why, what on earth are
you doing?"

_Mab_ (_in gasps_). "Oh--you see--it was awfully kind of the Pater to
give it to me--but I have to look after it myself--and I knew I should
_never have breath enough to blow the tyres out_!"

* * * * *

Illustration: AN ACCOMMODATING PARTY.--_Lady Driver._ "Can you show us
the way to Great Missenden, please?"

_Weary Willie._ "Cert'nly, miss, cert'nly. We're agoin' that way. 'Op
up, Joe. Anythink to oblige a lady!"

* * * * *

Among the correspondence in the _Daily Mail_ on the subject of "The
Motor Problem," there is a letter from a physician, who exposes very
cynically a scheme for improving his practice.

"I am," he says, "a country doctor, and during the last five years have
had not a single case of accident to pedestrians caused by motor car....
As soon as I can afford it I intend to buy a motor."

* * * * *

Illustration: HOW NOT

_Bikist._ "Now then, Ethel, see me make a spurt round this corner."

* * *

Illustration: TO DO IT

_First Villager._ "What's up, Bill?"

_Second Villager._ "Oh, only a gent awashin' the dust off his bike."

* * * * *

It is a bad workman who complains of his tools, yet even the best of
them may be justly annoyed when his spanner goes completely off its nut.

* * * * *

"Motor cycle for sale, 2-3/4 h.-p., equal to 3-1/4 h.-p."

_--Provincial Paper._

Discount of 1/2 h.-p. for cash?

* * * * *

SONG OF THE SCORCHER.

(_After reading the Protests and Plans of the Cyclophobists_)

I know I'm a "scorcher," I know I am torcher
To buffers and mivvies who're not up to date;
But grumpy old geesers, and wobbly old wheezers,
Ain't goin' to wipe me and my wheel orf the slate.
I mean to go spinning and 'owling and grinning
At twelve mile an hour through the thick of the throng.
And shout, wit