Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel
Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel
Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel
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— 331 —<br />
refuse her lunch, it is true; and a narrowm<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ded police force<br />
might desire to secure her, and wrap her <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> a rug prelim<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ary<br />
to summ<strong>on</strong>s<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g her. But such she heeds not. Uphill and downhill,<br />
through traffic that might tax <strong>the</strong> <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>genuity of a cat, over<br />
road surfaces calculated to break <strong>the</strong> average steam roller she<br />
passes, a visi<strong>on</strong> of idle lovel<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ess; her fair hair stream<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g to<br />
<strong>the</strong> w<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>d, her sylph-like form poised airily, <strong>on</strong>e foot up<strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
saddle, <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r rest<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g lightly up<strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> lamp. Sometimes<br />
she c<strong>on</strong>descends to sit down <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> saddle; <strong>the</strong>n she puts her<br />
feet <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> rests, lights a cigarette, and waves above her head a<br />
Ch<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ese lantern.<br />
Less often, it is a mere male th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g that rides <strong>the</strong> mach<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>e.<br />
He is not so accomplished an acrobat as is <strong>the</strong> lady; but simple<br />
tricks, such as stand<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> saddle and wav<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g flags, dr<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>k<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
beer or beef-tea while rid<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, he can and does perform.<br />
Someth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, <strong>on</strong>e supposes, he must do to occupy his m<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>d: sitt<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
still hour after hour <strong>on</strong> this mach<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>e, hav<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g no work to<br />
do, noth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g to th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>k about, must pall up<strong>on</strong> any man of active<br />
temperament. Thus it is that we see him ris<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g <strong>on</strong> his pedals as<br />
he nears <strong>the</strong> top of some high hill to apostrophise <strong>the</strong> sun, or<br />
address poetry to <strong>the</strong> surround<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g scenery.<br />
Occasi<strong>on</strong>ally <strong>the</strong> poster pictures a pair of cyclists; and <strong>the</strong>n<br />
<strong>on</strong>e grasps <strong>the</strong> fact how much superior for purposes of flirtati<strong>on</strong><br />
is <strong>the</strong> modern bicycle to <strong>the</strong> old-fashi<strong>on</strong>ed parlour or <strong>the</strong><br />
played-out garden gate. He and she mount <strong>the</strong>ir bicycles, be<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
careful, of course, that such are of <strong>the</strong> right make. After that<br />
<strong>the</strong>y have noth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g to th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>k about but <strong>the</strong> old sweet tale. Down<br />
shady lanes, through busy towns <strong>on</strong> market days, merrily roll<br />
<strong>the</strong> wheels of <strong>the</strong> “Berm<strong>on</strong>dsey Company’s Bottom Bracket<br />
Brita<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>’s Best,” or of <strong>the</strong> “Camberwell Company’s Jo<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>tless<br />
Eureka.” They need no pedall<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g; <strong>the</strong>y require no guid<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g.<br />
Give <strong>the</strong>m <strong>the</strong>ir heads, and tell <strong>the</strong>m what time you want to<br />
get home, and that is all <strong>the</strong>y ask. While Edw<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> leans from his<br />
saddle to whisper <strong>the</strong> dear old noth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gs <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> Angel<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>a’s ear, while<br />
Angel<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>a’s face, to hide its blushes, is turned towards <strong>the</strong> horiz<strong>on</strong><br />
at <strong>the</strong> back, <strong>the</strong> magic bicycles pursue <strong>the</strong>ir even course.