RPUNCH
Presented to the
LIBRARY of the
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
MRS. GEORGE BUXTON
IN MEMORY OF HER HUSBAND
PUNCH LIBRARY OP HUMOUH
Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON
j* Designed to provide in a series
of volumes, each complete in itself,
the cream of our national humour,
contributed by the masters of
comic draughtsmanship and the
leading wits of the age to "Punch,"
from its beginning in 1841 to the
present day Jt jC jK jit
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON
jt Designed to provide in a series
of volumes, each complete in itself,
the cream of our national humour,
contributed by the masters of
comic draughtsmanship and the
leading wits of the age to "Punch,"
from its beginning in 1841 to the
present day jt jl jt jt
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
MR. PUNCH
AWHEEL
THE HUMOURS OF MOTORING
AND CYCLING
A3 PICTURED BY
PHIL MAY, L. RAVEN . HILL,
BERNARD PARTRIDGE, TOM
BROWNE, A. S. BOYD, H. M.
BROCK, C. E. BROCK, GUNNING
KING, CHARLES PEARS, G. D.
ARMOUR, G. H. JALLAND, FRED
PEGRAM, F. H. TOWNSEND, G. L.
STAMPA, LANCE THACKERAY,
AND OTHERS.
WITH 120 ILLUSTRATIONS
PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH
THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"
0 M M
THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.
THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
Twenty-fit* Volumes, crotvn Svo. 192 pojrn
fulls illustrated
LIFE IN LONDON
COUNTRY LIFE
IN THE HIGHLANDS
SCOTTISH HUMOUR
IRISH HUMOUR
COCKNEY HUMOUR
IN SOCIETY
AFTER DINNER STORIES
IN BOHEMIA
AT THE PLAY
MR. PUNCH AT HOME
ON THE CONTINONG
WITH THE
RAILWAY BOOK
AT THE SEASIDE
MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
IN THE HUNTING FIELD
MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
WITH ROD AND GUN
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
BOOK OF SPORTS
GOLF STORIES
IN WIG AND GOWN
ON THE WARPATH
BOOK OF LOVE
CHILDREN
EDITOR'S NOTE.
AMONG the characteristics which
are essentially British, is the ten-
dency to receive almost any
innovation, be it a new style of
dress or a new method of locomo-
tion, with some degree of distrust
which shows itself in satirical
criticism ; to be followed soon after
by the acceptance of the accom-
plished fact and complete approval.
In this trait of our national char-
acter, as in all others, MR. PUNCH
proves himself a true born Britisher.
When the bicycle was first coming
into popularity, he seemed rather
to resent the innovation, and was
more ready to see the less attractive
side of cycling than its pleasures
and its practical advantages. So,
too, with the automobile. Only
recently has MR. PUNCH shown
some tendency to become himself
an enthusiast of the whirling wheel.
Mr. Punch Awheel
This diffidence in joining the ranks of th« cyclists or the
motorists is due entirely to MR. PUNCH'S goodness of heart and
his genuine British love of liberty. The cycling scorcher and
the motoring road-hog are two abominations which he most
naturally holds in the greatest contempt. Against them he is
never tired of directing his most scathing satire ; but while this
is entirely praiseworthy it tends a little to give a false impression
of his attitude towards two of the most delightful sports which
modern ingenuity has invented. After all, the scorcher and the
road-hog are the least representative followers of the sports
which their conduct brings into question, and it is very easy to
over-estimate their importance.
For that reason, in the compiling of the present volume the
editor has endeavoured to make a selection which will show
MR. PONCH in his real attitude towards motoring and cycling, in
which, of course, it is but natural and all to our delight that he
should see chiefly their humours, so
largely the result of misadventure. But
as he has long since ceased to jibe at
the lady who cycles or to regard male
cyclists as "cads on castors," — in the
phrase of, Edmund Yates, — and ceased
also to view the motor car as an ingeni-
ous device for public slaughter, his
adverse views have not in the present
volume been unduly emphasised.
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
ENTERPRISING PRO-MOTOR
ONE of our special correspondents
started out to try the effect of taking
notes from his motor-car whilst proceed-
ing at top-speed. The experiment took
place in June ; but we have only just re-
ceived the following account of the result.
" Started away and turned on full head of smell
— steam, I mean. Over Southwark Bridge, fizz, kick,
bang, rattle ! Flew along Old Kent Road ; knocked
down two policemen on patrol duty (' Knocked
'em in the Old Kent Road ') ; fizzed on through
New Cross and Lewisham at awful nerve-destroy-
ing, sobbing pace, ' toot toot-ing ' horn all the
way. No good, apparently, to some people, who
would not, or possibly could not, get out of the
way. Cannoned milk-cart entering Eltham village,
ran into 'bus, but shot off it again, at a tangent, up
on to the footpath, frightening old lady into
7
Mr. Punch Awheel
hysterics. Onwards we went, leaping and flying
past everything on the road, into open country.
Ran over dog and three chickens, and saw tandem
horses take fright and bolt ; dust flew, people
yelled at us and we yelled at people. Came round
sharp corner on to donkey standing in road.
' Boosted ' him up into the air and saw him fall
through roof of outhouse ! Whirr-r-up ! bang !
rattle ! fizz-izz — Bust !
" Where am I ? — Oh, in hospital — oh, really ? —
Seems nice clean sort of place. — How long ?
Oh, been here about six weeks — have I, really ?
And what ? Oh, both arms, you say ? — and
left leg ? Ah — by the way, do you know anyone
who wants to buy a motor ? What, no motor
left?— By Jove! that's funny, isn't it? — Well,'l
think I'll go to sleep again now."
Ethel (with book}. "What's an autocrat,
Mabel ? "
Mabel. " Person who drives an auto-car, of
course, silly."
THE BEST LUBRICANT FOR CYCLES. — Castor
oil.
8
" Wouldn't yer like ter 'ave one o' them things, Liza Ann?"
"No. I wouldn't be seen on one. I don'tthink they're nice forlidies!
Mr. Punch Awheel
MOTOR QUESTIONS
WHAT rushes through the crowded street
With whirring noise and throbbing beat,
Exhaling odours far from sweet ?
The motor-car.
Whose wheels o'er greasy asphalte skim,
Exacting toll of life and limb,
(What is a corpse or so to him) ?
The motorist's.
Who flies before the oily gust
Wafted his way through whirling dust,
And hopes the beastly thing will bust ?
The pedestrian.
Who thinks that it is scarcely fair
To have to pay for road repair
While sudden death lies lurking there ?
The ratepayer.
Who as the car goes whizzing past
At such law-breaking stands aghast,
(For forty miles an hour is fast) ?
The policeman.
Who hears the case with bland surprise,
And over human frailty sighs,
The while he reads between the lies ?
The magistrate.
IN DORSETSHIRE
Fair Cyclist. " Is this the way to Wareham, please ? "
Native. " Yes, miss, yew seem to me to ha" got 'em on
all right ! "
So UNSELFISH ! — " Oh yes, I gave my husband
a motor-car on his birthday."
" But I thought he didn't like motor-cars ! "
"He doesn't.
Q. Why is the lady bikist of an amorous
disposition ?
A. Because she is a sigh-cling creature.
12
Mr. Punch Awheel
HINTS FOR BIKING BEGINNERS
1. Insure your life and limbs. The former will
benefit your relations, the latter yourself.
2. Learn on a hired machine. The best plan is
to borrow a machine from a friend.' It saves
hiring. Should the tyre become punctured, the
brake be broken, the bell cracked, the lamp missing,
and the gear out of gear, you will return it as soon
as possible, advising your friend to provide himself
with a stronger one next time.
3. Practise on some soft and smooth ground.
For example, on a lawn ; the one next door for
choice. A muddy road, although sufficiently soft
is not recommended — the drawbacks are obvious.
4. Choose a secluded place for practising. It
may at first sight appear somewhat selfish to
deprive your neighbours 01 a gratuitous perfor-
mance which would be certain to amuse them
Nevertheless, be firm.
5. Get someone to hold you on. Engage a
friend in an interesting conversation while you
14
Mr. Punch Awheel
mount your bicycle. Do you remember Mr.
Winkle's dialogue with Sam Welter when he
attempted skating? You can model your con-
versation on this idea. Friend will support you
while you ride and talk. Keep him at it. It will
be excellent exercise for him, physically and
morally. Also economical for you ; as, otherwise,
you would have to pay a runner.
6. Don't bike; trike.
A NEW TERROR.— Johnson. Hullo, Thompson,
you look peckish. What's wrong ?
Thompson. The vibration of motor-earring has
got on my liver.
Johnson. I see, automobilious !
ON THE BRIGHTON ROAD. — Cyclist (to owner oj
dog over which he has nearly ridden). Take your
beast out of my way ! What right has he here ?
Owner. Well, he pays seven and sixpence a
year for the privilege of perambulation, and you
pay nothing !
THE VERY OLDEST MOTOR-CAR. — The whirli-
gig of time.
16
r.A.
Mr. Punch Awheel
A QUESTION OF ETIQUETTE
DEAR MR. PUNCH, — Knowing you to be a past
master in the art of courtesy, I venture to submit
the following hard case to your judgment. The
other morning, being a none too experienced
cyclist, I ventured into the Park on my "wheel"
at an early hour, thinking to have a little practice
unobserved. Judge of my horror when, as I was
wobbling along, I was suddenly confronted by the
Duchess of Xminster and her daughters, all expert
riders ! Her Grace and the Ladies Wiseacre
bowed to me in the most affable way, but, afraid
to leave go of the handles of my machine, I could
only NOD in return. And I have always been
renowned for the elegance with which I remove my
chapeau I These noble ladies have since cut me
dead. I cannot blame them, but I venture to sug-
gest, for your approval, that the raising of the right
elbow, such as is practised by coachmen, gentle
and simple, should be adopted by all cyclists. I
think that I could manage the movement.
Vours in social despair,
AMELIUS AMBERGRIS
Bayswater,
18
»9
Mr. Punch Awheel
AN admirable improvement in motor-cars is
about to be introduced by one of our leading firms.
Cars are frequently overturned, and the occupants
buried underneath. In future, on the bottom of
every car made by the firm in question there will
be engraved the words, " Here lies ," followed
by a blank space, which can be rilled up by the
purchaser.
He. " Do you belong to the Psychical Society ? "
She. " No ; but I sometimes go out on my
brother's machine ! "
THE PASfeINO OF
THE HORSE.
FURTME.R. USE.
FOR.
20
THE PASSING OF
THE HORSE
NO FUPJHER
WHEEL AND WOE. — A Brooklyn inventor has
patented a cycle-hearse.
UNLICENSED PEDALLERS. — Cyclists.
Mr. Punch Awheel
TO MARIE, RIDING MY BICYCLE
BRAKE, brake, brake
On my brand-new tyre, Marie !
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
O well for the fishmonger's boy
That his tricycle's mean and squalid ;
O well for the butcher lad
That the tyres of his wheel are solid I
And the reckless scorchers scorch
With hanging purple heads,
But O for the tube that is busted up
And the tyre that is cut to shreds.
Brake, brake, brake —
Thou hast broken indeed, Marie,
And the rounded form of my new Dunlop
Will never come back to me.
A SUGGESTION IN NOMENCLATURE. — The old
name of " Turnpike Roads " has, long ago, with
the almost universal disappearance of the ancient
turnpikes, become obsolete. Nowadays, bicycles
being " always with us," why not for " Turnpike
Roads" substitute "Turn-bike roads"? This
ought to suit the " B. B. P.," or " Bicycling
British Public."
" Oh did you see a gentleman on a bicycle as you came up ? "
•• No; but I saw a man sitting at the bottom of the hill mending
an old umbrella ! "
Mr. Punch Awheel
THAT BICYCLE LAMP
THE other Sunday afternoon I rode over on my
bicycle to see the Robinsons. They live seven
miles away. Tomkins and others were there.
People who live in remote country places always
seem pleased to see a fellow creature, but Robin-
son and his wife are unusually hospitable and good-
natured. After I had had some tea, and thought
of leaving, a hobnail was discovered in the tyre ol
Tomkin's bicycle. He, being very athletic, was
playing croquet, a game which requires vast
muscular strength. However, he said that his
tyres were something quite new, and that in
one minute one man, or even one child, could stick
one postage-stamp, or anything of the sort, over
that puncture and mend it. So all the rest of us
and the butler, principally the butler, who is an
expert in bicycles, went at it vigorously, and after
we had all worked for nearly an hour the tyre was
patched up, and Tomkins, having finished his
game, rode coolly away. I was going to do the
same, but Robinson wouldn't hear of it — I must
Mr. Punch Awheel
stay to dinner. I said I had no lamp for riding
home in the dark. He would lend me his. I
said I should have to dine in knickerbockers.
That didn't matter in the country. So I stayed
till 9.30.
The next Sunday I rode over again. I started
directly after lunch, lest I should seem to have
come to dinner, and I gave the butler that lamp
directly I arrived. But it was all no good, for I
stayed till 10, and had to borrow it again. " Bring
it back to-morrow morning," said Robinson, " and
help us with our hay-making." Again dined in
knickerbockers.
On Monday I resolved to be firm. I would
leave by daylight. Rode over early. After some
indifferent haymaking and some excellent lunch, I
tried to start. No good. Robinson carried me
off to a neighbour's tennis-party. After we
returned from that, he said I must have some
dinner. Couldn't ride home all those seven miles
starving. Knickerbockers didn't matter. Again
dined there and rode home at 10.30.
So I still have Robinson's lamp. Now I want
to know how I am going to get it back to his house.'
26
Vicar's Daughter. " Oh, Withers, your mistress tells me
you are saving up to take a little shop and look after your
motiier. I think it is such a sweet idea! "
Withers. " Well, yes, miss, I did think of it ; but now
I've got the money I've changed my mind, and I'm going
to buy myself one of these 'ere bicycles instead I "
•7
A STORY WITHOUT WORDS
if I have it taken by anybody else he will think I
don't care to come, which would be quite a mis-
take. Have vowed that I will not dine there again
except in proper clothes. If I cross his hospitable
threshold, even before breakfast, I shall never get
away before bedtime. Can't ride seven miles in
evening dress before breakfast even in the country.
Besides, whatever clothes I wore, I should never
be able to leave by daylight. I should still have
his lamp. Can't take a second lamp. Would
look like inviting myself to dinner. So would the
evening clothes at breakfast. What is to be done ?
38
THE INFERENCE.— Giles (who has been rendering "first
aid " to wrecked motor-cyclist). " Naw, marm, I doan't think
as 'e be a married man, 'cos 'e says this be the worst thing
wot 'as ever 'appened to un I"
SAVING THE SITUATION
Effie (to whom a motor-brougham is quite a novelty). " Oh,
mummy dear, look ! There's a footman and a big coach-
man on the box, and there isn't a horse or even a pony !
What are they there for ? "
Mummy dear (not well versed in electricity and motor-
mechanism). " Well, you see, Effie dear — the — (by a happy
inspiration) but, dear, you're not old enough to under-
stand."
THE Daily Mail has discovered that the " Motor-
Cough " is " caused by the minute particles of dust
raised by motor-cars which lodge themselves in the
laryngeal passage." If people wz'//use their gullets
as garages, what can they expect ?
3°
Mr. Punch Awheel
IN EAST DORSETSHIRE. — Cyclist (to
How many miles am I from Wimborne?
Native. I dunno.
Cyclist. Am I near Blandford ?
Native. I dunno.
Cyclist (angrily). Then what do you know ?
Native. I dunno.
[Cyclist speeds to No Man's Land in the New
Forest.
OUR BARTERERS
BICYCLE. — Thoroughly heavy, lumbering, out-of-
date machine, recently doctored up to look like
new, for sale. Cost, second-hand, six years ago, £4.
Will take £12 for it. Bargain. Would suit a
dyspeptic giant, or a professional strong man in
want of violent exercise.
SAFETY CYCLE. — Pneumatic tyres. A real
beauty. Makers well known in Bankruptcy Court.
Owner giving up riding in consequence of the
frame being thoroughly unsafe, and the tyres con-
stantly bursting. Would exchange for one of
Broadwood's grand pianos or a freehold house in
the country.
3*
THE ? OF THE DAY.— Should there be a speed (and dust) limit ?
p. A.
33
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE QUEEN'S HIGHWAY. — Infuriated Cyclist
(after a collision with a fast-trotting dog-cart). I
shall summon you to-morrow ! I've as much right
on the road as you, Jehu !
Irate Driver. And I shall summon you! This
thoroughfare's mine as well as yours, let me tell
you, Scorcher !
Pedestrian (who has been nearly killed by the
collision^ and is lying prostrate after being cannoned
on to the path, very feebly). And what about me,
gentlemen ? Have I any right of way ?
THE constant strain of driving motor-cars is said
to be responsible for a form of nervous break-down
which shows a decided tendency to increase. One
certainly comes across a number of cars afflicted in
this way.
"PIKES AND BIKES"
(By a "riding" Poet")
IN years gone by our sires would try
To abrogate the highway " pikes."
No tolls to-day, can bar the way,
But freeing of the road brought " bikes " ;
And there are many Northern Tykes,
Who would prefer the " pikes " to " bikes. '
3-4
Old Ladv (describing a cycling accident). " 'E 'elped me hup, an'
brushed the dust orf on me, an' put five shillin' in my 'and, an' so I
says, ' Well, sir, I'm sure you're hactiri like a gentleman,' I says,
' though I don't suppose you are one,' I says."
35
C 2
Mr. Punch Awheel
A MOTOR-CAR, proceeding along the High Street
the other evening, took fright, it is supposed, at a
constable on point-to-point duty, and exploded,
blowing the occupants in various directions over
the adjoining buildings. The policeman is to be
congratulated upon averting what might have been
a serious accident.
A WELL-KNOWN motorist has been complaining
of the campaign waged against motor-cars by
humorous artists, who never seem to tire of depicting
accidents. " One common and ludicrous error in
many drawings," he said, "is the placing of the
driver on the wrong side of the car." But surely,
in an accident, that is just where he would find
himself.
Sympathetic Lady. " I hope you had a good
holiday, Miss Smith."
Overworked Dressmaker. " Oh yes, my lady. I
took my machine with me, you know ! "
5". L. " What a pity ; you should give up needle
and thread when you're out for a "
O. D. " Oh, I don't mean my sewing machine!
I refer to my bicycle !"
SCENE — A remote district in the Woldi.
Driver of Motor-car (who has just pulled up in response to urgent
summons from countrywoman). "Well, what's the matter? What
is it ? " Countrywoman. '• Hi, man, look 1 You've been an'
left yer 'oss on the 'ill 1 "
37
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE CYCLING GOVERNESS
I NO longer teach my classes
Their Shakespeare and the glasses,
And the uses of the globes, as was my custom ;
But all they'll learn from me
Is to ride the iron gee —
All other lessons utterly disgust 'em I
The girls no more will meddle
With the painful piano-pedal,
They'll only touch the pedal of tl.eir '• H umber";
Like their grannies, they begin
At an early age to " spin,"
But the road it is their spinning-wheels encumber.
So wheeling now my trade is,
And finishing young ladies
In the proper kind of bicycling deportment;
7'm nearly finished, too,
And battered black and blue,
For of falls I've had a pretty large assortment I
WOE ON THE WHEEL.
THERE was a " scorching " girl, who came down an awful
purl,
And scarified her nose, and scarred her forehead.
She thought, when first she rode, biking very, very good,
But now she considers it horrid !
38
Winny (one mile an hour] to Annie (two miles an hour}.
" Scorcher !
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE FAVOURITE OF THE MOTOR-CARS. —
Petroleum.
IN England, says a French writer, motoring is
not considered a sport because it does not involve
killing anything. This is but one more example
of Continental aspersion.
As a result of his trip over the Gordon-Bennett
course, the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Dublin
now recommends the motor-car for pastoral visits.
This will be no new thing. For years past some
people have looked on the motor-car in the light
of a visitation.
CYCLING CONUNDRUM. — Q. What article of
the cyclist girl's attire do a couple of careless
barbers recall to mind ?
A. A pair of nickers.
MOTORISTS are still expressing their indignation
at a recent disgraceful incident when one of their
number, because he could not pay a fine at once,
was taken to prison, and forced to don ugly convict
garb in the place of his becoming goggles and
motor coat.
40
Mr. Punch Awheel
WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS
Dialogue between two Young Gentlemen, dressed in Knicker-
bocker Suits, Gaiters, and Golf caps. They have the
indescribable air which proclaims the votary of the
"Bike."
First Young Gentleman. Yes ; I certainly agree
with the French view of it. Cycling shouldn't be
indulged in without care.
Second Y. G. They say in Paris that no one
should become an habitual cyclist without "medical
authorisation."
First Y. G. Yes. Quite right. Then, when
you are permitted, you ought to travel at a moderate
pace. About five miles an hour is quite enough for
a beginner.
Second Y. G. Enough ! Why, too much ! You
can't be too careful ! Then, if you break off fora
time, you ought to begin all over again. You
should "gradually acquire speed " ; not rush at it !
First Y. G. Certainly. I read in the Lancet
only the other day that merely increasing the pace
of a bike a couple of miles an hour was sufficient
to send up the normal pulse to 150 !
42
43
Mr. Punch Awheel
Second F. G. Most alarming ! And yet I can
see from your costume you are a cyclist.
First Y. G. Not at all. I am pleased with the
costume, and, like yourself, have adopted it. Now
do not laugh at me. But, between ourselves, I have
never been on a bicycle in my life !
. Second Y. G, No more have I ! \Curtain.
THE provincial journal which, the other day,
published the following paragraph : — " Private
letters from Madagascar state that two cyclists have
visited the island, causing the loss of 200 lives and
immense damage to property," and followed it up
with a leader virulently attacking motor-cyclists,
now informs us that the word should have been
"cyclones." The printer has been warned.
" ANTI-MOTOR" writes to point out that one
advantage of holding motor races like those that
have just taken place in Ireland is that after each
race there are fewer motors.
THE TRAIL OF THE MOTOR.—" COLLECTOR.
Young man wants collecting." — Advt. in Provincial
Paper.
OW Farmer Jones (who has been to a local cattle-show, and seen a
horseless carriage for the first time). " Mosher carsh may be all very
well— (hie .')— but they can't find 'er way home by 'emshelvesl "
45
Mr. Punch Awheel
SHOULD MOTORISTS WEAR
MASKS ?
["Plus de lunettes speciales pour MM. les chauffeurs.
Us devront conduire comme les cochers ordinaires a yeux
nus ou avec les lunettes ordinaires de myopes ou de
presbytes. Nos sportsmen declarent que ces lunettes
de motoristes favorisent 1'anonymat. Ces lunettes sont
de v6ritables masques. On fait sous ce masque ce qu'on
n'oserait pas faire a visage decouvert. En France il est
defendu de se masquer en dehors du temps de carnaval . . .
si le masque tombe, la vitesse des motors deviendra fatale-
ment normale." — M. N. de Noduwez in the " Times."]
MR. PUNCH has collected a few brief opinions
upon the subject of the above-quoted letter.
Mr. KIPLING writes : " Through dirt, sweat,
burns, bursts, smells, bumps, breakdowns, and
explosions I have attained to the perfect joy of
the scorcher. I have suffered much on the southern
British highways. My Tibetan devil-mask shall
therefore add to their terrors. Besides, I wore
gig-lamps at school. What do they know of
Sussex who only Burwash know?"
Mr. BEERBOHM TREE telephones; "The most
46
47
Mr. Punch Awheel
beautiful of all arts is that of make-up. We cannot
all resemble Caliban, but why should not the
motorist aspire in that direction ? Life is but a
masque, and all roads lead to ' His Majesty's.' "
Miss MARIE CORELLI telegraphs : "I am all for
anonymity and everything that tends to the avoid-
ance of advertisement. If people must ride in
motors, let them have the decency to disguise
themselves as effectually as possible, and shun all
contact with their kind."
Mr. JEM SMITH, cabdriver, in the course of an
interview, said : " Masks ? Not 'arf ! Let 'em
out on the Fifth of November, and throw a match
in their oil-tanks — that's what I'd do ! I'd anony-
mous the lot of 'em ! "
POLICEMAN XX. (in the relent a labourer behind
a hedge on the Brighton road) : " 'Oo are you
a-gettin' at ? Do you see any mote in my eye ?
If you want to know the time. I've a stop-watch!"
Enthusiastic Motorist (to Perfect Stranger). I
swear by petrol, sir ; always use it myself. Now
what, may I ask, do you use ?
Perfect Stranger. Oats !
4S
P.A.
49
D 2
Mr. Punch Awheel
THERE WAS A NEW WOMAN
(Neo- Nursery Rhyme)
THERE was a New Woman, as I've heard tell,
And she rode a bike with a horrible bell,
She rode a bike in a masculine way,
And she had a spill on the Queen's highway.
While she lay stunned, up came Doctor Stout,
And he cast a petticoat her " knickers" about,
To hide the striped horrors which bagged at the knees.
When the New Woman woke, she felt strange and ill at
ease ;
She began to wonder those skirts for to spy,
And cried, "Oh, goodness gracious! I'm sure this
isn't I !
But if it is I, as I hope it be,
I know a little vulgar boy, and he knows me ;
And if it is I, he will jeer and rail,
But if it isn't I, why, to notice me he'll fail."
So off scorched the New Woman, all in the dark,
But as the little vulgar boy her knickers failed to mark,
He was quite polite, and she began to cry,
" Oh ! Jimmy doesn't cheek me, so I'm sure this isn't 1 1 "
THE PACE THAT KILLS
HAVE a care how you speed 1
Take the motorist's case :—
On his tomb you can read,
" Requiescat in pace."
52
53
Mr. Punch Awheel
WONDERS ON WHEELS
(By an Old Beginner)
WONDER if my doctor was right in ordering me
to take this sort of exercise.
Wonder whether I look very absurd while
accepting the assistance of an attendant who walks
by my side and keeps me from falling by clutches
at my waistbelt.
Wonder whether it would have been better to go
to Hyde Park instead of Battersea.
Wonder whether the policeman, the postman,
the nurse with the perambulator, the young lady
reading the novel, and the deck passengers on the
passing steamboat are laughing at me.
Wonder whether I shall keep on now that my
attendant has let go.
Wonder whether the leading wheel will keep
straight on until we have passed that lamp-post.
Wonder whether the next spill I have will be
less painful than the last.
Wonder why mats are not laid down by the
54
Mr. Punch Awheel
County Council in the roads for the comfort of
falling cyclists.
Wonder why the cycle suddenly doubled up and
landed me in the gutter.
Wonder whether the pretty girl in the hat,
whose face is hidden by a novel, smiled at my
misadventure.
Wonder whether the person who has just come
to grief over yonder is using good language or
words of an inferior quality.
Wonder whether my attendant is right in urging
me to remount and have another try.
Wonder whether I look well wobbling.
Wonder whether the elderly spinster with the
anxious manner and air of determination is really
enjoying herself.
Wonder whether, when I have completed my
first hour, I shall want another.
Wonder whether the irnp of a boy will run with me.
Wonder whether my second fall in five minutes
beats the record.
Wonder, considering the difficulty of progressing
half a dozen paces in as many minutes, how those
marvellous feats are performed at Olympia,
56
FLATTERY— WITH AN OBJECT
Jocasta (with an axe of her own to grind, ingratiatingly).
" Oh yes, papa, it does suit you. I never saw you look so
nice in anything before ! "
57
Mr. Punch Awheel
Wonder if I shall ever advance upon my present
rate of speed, i.e., three-quarters of a mile an hour.
Wonder, finally, if the placards warning cyclists
in Battersea Park against the dangers of " furious
riding " can possibly be posted for my edification.
THE SCORCHER
HE travels along at the top of his speed,
You might think that his life was at stake ;
To beauties of nature he never pays heed,
For the record he's trying to break.
He stiffens his muscles and arches his back
As if he were still on the cinder-path track.
He races regardless of life and of limb,
Caring naught for the folk in his way ;
For chickens and children are nothing to him,
And his mad career nothing can stay ;
So wildly he wheels as if urged by a goad ;
By coachmen he's christened " the curse of the road."
He'll pass on the left and he'll ride on the right,
For the rules of the road caring naught ;
His lamp he will not take the trouble to light
Till a pretty smart lesson he's taught. •
But lecture and fine him as much as you will,
The trail of the scorcher is over him still.
RHYME FOR RECORD-MAKERS
RATTLE-IT, rattle-it, " Biking " man ;
Make us a " record " as fast as you can ;
Score it, and print it as large as life,
And someone will " cut " it ere you can say knife !
58
MEMS FOR MOTORISTS.— If your car suddenly appears to drag
heavily, you may be sure there is something to account for it.
59
"Have you ever tried riding without the handles? It'
delightfully easy, all but the corners."
60
So it seems 1
Mr. Punch Awheel
BROKEN ON THE WHEEL
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
62
Mr. Punch Awheel
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 up-
set the pretty girl. Polite self-effacement im-
possible 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
64
SHOULD THE HAI« Of tou» ORIVINC
COAT1 SuteiNL? iTANO EXtCr, IT
mOICATC.* TH£ CtjOSt ftOtlMirr cf
A umr of ponce, i
MOTORING PHENOMENA— AND HOW TO READ
THE SIGNS
P.A.
Mr. Punch Awheel
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. Un-
prepared for this. Am cast into the air. Picked
up. Can't stand. Something broken. Doctor
will say what. Anyhow, clothes torn, bruised, dis-
heartened. 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.
OVERHEARD AT A MOTOR MEETING. — Inquirer.
" I wonder what they call those large, long cars ? "
Well-informed Friend. " Those ? Oh, I believe
those are the Flying Kilometres, a French make."
PEOPLE who are in favour of increasing the
rates — Motorists.
66
E 2
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE MORAL BIKE
Truth has discovered that temperance is pro-
moted, and character generally reformed, by the
agency of the bicycle — in fact, the guilty class has
taken to cycling.
That is so. Go into any police-court, and you
will find culprits in the dock who have not only
taken to cycling but have also taken other people's
cycles.
Ask any burglar among your acquaintance, and
he will tell you that the term Safety Bicycle has a
deeper and truer meaning for him, when, in pur-
suit of his vocation, he is anxious not to come in
collision with the police.
Look, too, at the Scorcher on his Saturday
afternoon exodus. Where could you have a more
salient and striking example of pushfulness and
determination to " get there " over all obstacles ?
He is, in fact, an example of Nietzsche's " Ueber-
mensch," the Over-man who rides over any
elderly pedestrian or negligible infant that may
cross his path.
68
Mr. Punch Awheel
Then the Lady in Bloomers. She is a great
reforming agent. She looks so unsightly, that if
all her sisters were dressed like her flirtation would
die out of the land and there would be no more
cakes and ale.
Think also of all the virtues called into active
exercise by one simple puncture : Patience, while
you spend an hour by the wayside five miles from
anywhere ; Self-control, when " swears, idle swears,
you know not what they mean, swears from the
depth of some divine despair rise in the heart and
gather to the lips," as Tennyson has so sym-
pathetically put it ; Fortitude, when you have to
shoulder or push the Moral Agent home ; and a
lot of other copy-book qualities.
Lastly, the adventurer who proceeds without a
light within curfew hours, the sportsman who
steals a march on the side-walk, and the novice
who tries a fall with the first omnibus encountered
— are all bright instances of British independence,
and witnesses to Truth.
Truly, the bike is an excellent substitute for the
treadmill and the reformatory I
70
THE MILTONIC CYCLIST
Mr. Punch Awheel
WAKE UP, ENGLAND !
[" British lady motor-drivers," says Motoring Illustrated,
"must look to their laurels. Miss Rosamund Dixey, of
Boston, U.S.A., invariably has her sweet, pet, fat, white
pig sitting up beside her in the front of her motor car."]
WE are losing our great reputation,
Our women are not up-to-date ;
For a younger, more go-a-head nation
Has beaten us badly of late ;
Is there nowhere some fair Englishwoman
Who'd think it not too infra dig.
To be seen with (and treat it as human)
A sweet — pet — fat — white — pig ?
There is no need to copy our Cousins,
A visit or two to the Zoo
Will convince you there must be some dozens
Of animal pets that would do,
With a " grizzly " perched up in your motor,
Just think how the people would stare,
Saying, " Is that a man in a coat or
A big — grey — tame — he— bear ? "
Think how chic it would look in the paper
(Society's Doings, we'll say),
«' Mrs. So-and-so drove with her tapir,
And daughter (the tapir's) to-day.
Mrs. Thingummy too and her sister
Drove out for an hour and a half,
And beside them (the image of Mr.)
A dear — wee — pink — pet — calf I "
72
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE MOTORS' DEFENCE UNION
A PEDESTRIANS' Protection League is being
formed to uphold the rights of foot-passengers on
the highways. As no bane is without its antidote,
an opposition union is to be organised, having in
view the adoption of the following regulations : —
1. Every pedestrian must carry on his front and
back a large and conspicuous number as a means
of easy and rapid identification.
2. No foot passenger shall quit the side-walk,
except at certain authorised crossings. In country
lanes and places where there is no side-walk the
ditch shall be considered equivalent to the same.
3. Each foot-passenger about to make use ot
such authorised crossings shall thrice sound a
danger-signal on a hooter, fog-horn or megaphone ;
and, after due warning has thus been given, shall
traverse the road at a speed of not less than twelve
miles an hour. The penalty for infringement to
be forty shillings or one month.
4. Any pedestrian obstructing a motor by being
run over, causing a motor to slow down or stop, or
74
Mr. Punch Awheel
otherwise deranging the traffic, shall be summarily
dealt with : the punishment for this offence to be
five years' penal servitude, dating from arrest or
release from hospital, as the case may be.
5. Should the pedestrian thus trespassing on the
highway lose his life in an encounter with a motor-
car, he shall not be liable to penal servitude ; com-
pensation for shock and loss of time, however,
shall be paid from his estate to the driver of the
car, such amount being taxed by the coroner.
6. All cattle, sheep, pigs, swine, hares, rabbits,
conies, and other ground game, and every goose,
duck, fowl, or any animal whatsoever with which
the motor shall collide shall, ipso facto> be con-
fiscated to the owner of the motor.
7. Any comment, remark, reflection, sneer or
innuendo concerning the shape, speed, appearance,
noise, smell, or other attribute of a motor-car, or
of its occupants, shall be actionable ; and every
foot-passenger thus offending shall be bound over
in the sum of £"500 to keep the peace.
THE Scotchman who tumbled off a bicycle says
that in future he intends to " let wheel alone."
76
77
HOW NOT
Bikist, " Now then, Ethel, see me make a spurt round
this corner."
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."
78
TO DO IT
First Villager. " What's up, Bill ? "
Second Villager. " Oh, only a gent awashin' the dust oft
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| h.-p., equal to 3^ h.-p."
— Provincial Paper.
Discount of J h.-p. for cash?
79
Mr. Punch Awheel
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, without stopping, whilst, frightened and flop-
ping.
My elderly victims like ninepins are dropping, —
" So long ! "
The elderly bobby, who's stuffy and cobby,
Ain't got arf a chance with a scorcher on wheels ;
Old buffers may bellow, and young gals turn yellow,
But what do I care for their grunts or their squeals ?
No, when they go squiffy I'm off in a jiffy,
The much-abused " scorcher " is still going strong.
And when mugs would meddle, I shout as I pedal —
"So long!"
Wot are these fine capers perposed by the papers ?
These 'ints about lassos and butterfly nets ?
To turn scorcher-catchers the old pewter-snatchers
In 'elmets must take fewer stodges and wets !
Wot, treat hus like bufflers or beetles I The scufflers
In sofir, silent shoes, turn Red Injins ? You're wrong I
It's all bosh and bubble 1 I'm orf— at the double ! —
" So long !
80
Owner (as the car insists upon backing into a dike). " Don't be
alarmed I Keep cool I Try and keep cool I "
[Friend thinks there is every probability of their keeping VERY cool,
whether they try to or not I
P.A.
81
Mr. Punch Awheel
SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL TAXATION
£ s. d.
For every Motor Car , „ ,440
If with smell . . . • 5 5 o
Extra offensive ditto . . .660
Motor Car proceeding at over ten
miles an hour, for each addi-
tional mile . . . i i o
For every Bicycle used for " scorch-
ing" o 10 o
THE ORIGINAL CLASSICAL BICYCLIST. — "Ixion;
or, the Man on the Wheel."
MY STEAM MOTOR-CAR (see p. 85).
(i) Monday. — I buy a beautiful steam motor-car. Am
photographed. (2) Tuesday. — I take it out. Pull the
wrong lever, and back into a shop window. A bad start.
(3) Wednesday morning. — A few things I ran over.
(4) Wednesday afternoon. — Took too sharp a turn.
Narrowly escaped knocking down policeman at the corner.
Ran over both his feet. (5) Thursday morning. — Got
stuck in a ditch four miles from home. (6) Thursday
evening. — Arrive home. Back the car into the shed. Miss
the door and knock the shed down. (7) Friday. — Ran
over my neighbour's dog. (8) Saturday. — Silly car
breaks down three miles from home. Hire a horse to tow
it back. (9) Sunday. — Filling up. Petrol tank caught
fire. Wretched thing burnt. Thank goodness !
84
MY STEAM MOTOR-CAR (see p. 84).
Mr. Punch Awheel
MODERN ROMANCE OF THE
ROAD
[" It is said that the perpetrators of a recent burglary
got clear away with their booty by the help of an automobile.
At this rate we may expect to be attacked, ere long, by
automobilist highwaymen."— Pan's Correspondent of Daily
Paper.]
IT was midnight. The wind howled drearily over
the lonely heath ; the moon shone fitfully through
the driving clouds. By its gleam an observer
might have noted a solitary automobile painfully
jolting along the rough road that lay across the
common. Its speed, as carefully noted by an
intelligent constable half-an-hour earlier, was
41*275 miles an hour. To the ordinary observer
it would appear somewhat less. Two figures
might have been descried on the machine ; the
one the gallant Hubert de Fitztompkyns, the other
Lady Clarabella, his young and lovely bride.
Clarabella shivered, and drew her sables more
closely around her.
" I am frightened," she murmured. " It is so dark
and cold, Hubert, and this is a well-known place
for highwaymen ! Suppose we should be attacked ? "
86
Mr. Punch Awheel
"Pooh ! " replied her husband, deftly manipulat-
ing the oil-can. " Who should attack us when 'tis
common talk that you pawned your diamonds a
month ago ? Besides, we have a swivel-mounted
Maxim on our machine. Ill would it fare with
the rogue who — Heavens ! what was that ? "
From the far distance sounded a weird, unearthly
noise, growing clearer and louder even as Hubert
and his wife listened. It was the whistle of another
automobile !
In a moment Hubert had turned on the
acetylene search-light, and gazed with straining
eyes down the road behind him. Then he turned
to his wife. "'Tis Cutthroat giving us chase," he
said simply. "Pass the cordite cartridges, please."
Lady Clarabella grew deathly pale. " I don't
know where they are ! " she gasped. " I think —
I think I must have left them on my dressing-
table."
" Then we are lost. Cutthroat is mounted on his
bony Black Jet, which covers a mile a minute —
and he is the most blood-thirsty ruffian on the road.
Shut off steam, Clarabella ! We can but yield."
" Never ! " cried his wife. " Here, give me the
88
89
Mr. Punch Awheel
lever; we are nearly at the top of this tre-
mendously steep hill — we will foil him yet ! "
Hubert was too much astonished to speak. By
terrific efforts the gallant automobile arrived at the
summit, when Clarabella applied the brake. Then
she gazed down the narrow road behind her. "Take
the starting-lever, Hubert," she said, " and do as I
tell you."
Ever louder sounded the clatter of their pursuer's
machine ; at last its head-light showed in the
distance, as with greatly diminished speed it began
to climb the hill.
" Now ! " shrieked Clarabe) la. " Full speed astern,
Hubert! Let her go!"
The automobile went backwards down the hill
like a flash of lightning. Cutthroat had barely time
to realise what was happening before it was upon
him. Too late he tried to steer Black Jet out of
the way. There was a yell, a sound of crashing
steel, a cloud of steam. When it cleared away, it
revealed Hubert and Clarabella still seated on
their machine, which was only slightly damaged,
while Cutthroat and Black Jet were knocked into
countless atoms !
90
/
- Al
£>
a < / .<•; • •
^x^/"
The Owner (after five breakdowns and a spilt). " Are y-you k-keen
on r-riding home ? " His Friend. " N-not very." The Owner.
" L-let's 1-leave it a-and u/flZA, s-shall we ? "
*£>
SUNDAY MORNING. — Cyclist (to rural policeman). " Nice crowd
out this morning 1 " Rural Policeman (who has received a tip).
" Yes, an' yer can't do with 'em * If yer 'oilers at 'cm, they honly
turns round and says, ' Pip, pip ' ! ' '
Rustic (to beginner, who has charged the hedge). " It's no
good, sir. They things won't jump 1 "
THE UNIVERSAL JUGGERNAUT. — " Anyone,"
says the Daily Telegraph, "who has driven an
automobile will know that it is quite impossible
to run over a child and remain unconscious of the
fact." Any one who has driven an automobile I
Heavens ! what a sweeping charge 1 Is there
none innocent ?
94
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95
Mr. Punch Awheel
URBS IN RURE
[" When every one has a bicycle and flies to the suburban
roads, the suburban dwellers will desert their houses and
come back to crowded London to find quiet and freedom
from dust." — Daily Paper.]
Time was desire for peace would still
My footsteps lure to Richmond Hill,
Or to the groves of Burnham I,
Much craving solitude, would fly ;
Thence, through the Summer afternoon,
' Mid fragrant meads, knee-deep in June,
Lulled by the song of birds and bees,
I 'd saunter idly at mine ease
To that still churchyard where, with Gray,
I 'd dream a golden hour away,
Forgetful all of aught but this —
That peace was mine, and mine was bliss.
But now should my all-eager feet
Seek out some whilom calm retreat,
" Pip, pip !" resounds in every lane,
" Pip, pip ! " the hedges ring again,
" Pip, pip ! " the corn, " Pip, pip 1 " the rye,
" Pip, pip ! " the woods and meadows cry,
As through the thirsty, fever'd day,
The red-hot scorchers scorch their way.
Peace is no longer, Rest is dead,
And sweetest Solitude hath fled ;
And over all, the cycling lust
Hath spread its trail of noise and dust.
Q6
97
Mr. Punch Awheel
So, would I woo the joys of Quiet,
I see no more the country's riot,
But the comparatively still
Environment of Ludgate Hill.
There, 'inongst the pigeons of St. Paul s,
I muse melodious madrigals,
Or loiter where the waters sport
'Mid the cool joys of .Fountain Court,
Where, undisturbed by sharp " Pip, pip ! "
My nimble numbers lightly trip,
And country peace I find again
In Chancery and Fetter Lane.
VEHICULAR PROGRESSION. — Mr. Ikey Motor
(to customer). Want a machine, sir ? Certainly,
We've all sorts to suit your build.
Customer, It isn't for me, but for my mother-in-
law.
Mr. Ikey Motor. For your mother-in-law ! 1 low
would a steam roller suit her ?
[Mr. I. M. is immediately made aware that the
lady in question has overheard his ill-timed
*est, while the customer vanishes in bine
fire.
ExPERTO CREDE. — What is worse than raining
cats and dogs ? — Hailing motor omnibuses.
98
G 2
SIMPLE ENOUGH
(in pursuit of escaped bull, to Timmins, who is " teach-
ing himself"). "Hi, Mister! If yer catch hold of his
leading-stick, he can't hurt yer ! "
ANTI-BICYCLIST MOTTO. — Rather a year of
Europe than a cycle of to-day.
MOTTO FOR THOSE WHO "BiKE." — " And wheels
rush in where horses fear to tread."
100
A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY.— Major Mustard (who has been
changing several of his servants). " How dare you call yourself a
chauffeur?" Al/onsoe. " Mais non I Non, monsiaur I Je ne suis
pas 'chauffeur.' J'ai dit que je suis le chef. Mais monsieur com-
prehend not I "
:IOX
Mr. Punch Awheel
CYCLES ! CYCLES ! ! CYCLES ! ! !
SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY NEW
THE LITTLE HANDLE-BAR SPRING
No MORE ACCIDENTS! No MORE STOLEN CYCLES!
ALL our bicycles are fitted with the Little Handle-
Bar Spring, which, when pressed, causes the
machine to fall into 114 pieces.
Anyone can press the spring, but it takes an
expert three months to rebuild it, thus trebling the
life of a bicycle.
We are offering this marvellous invention at the
absurd price of
50 guineas cash down,
or 98 weekly instalments of I guinea. [Special
reductions to company promoters and men with
large families.]
We can't afford to do it for less, because when
once you have bought one you will never want
another.
ADVICE TO PURCHASERS
Don't lose your head when the machine runs
away with you down the hill ; simply press the
spring.
10*
'03
Mr. Punch Awheel
Don't wait for your rich uncle to die ; just send
him one of our cycles.
Don't lock your cycle up at night ; merely press
the spring.
Don't be misled by other firms who say that their
machines will also fall to pieces ; they are only
trying to sell their cycles ; we want to sell YOU.
NOTE. — We can also fit this marvellous Little
Spring to perambulators, bath-chairs, and bathing
machines.
We append below some two out of our million
testimonials. The other 999,998 are expected
every post.
July, 1906.
DEAR SIRS, — I bought one ol your cycles in
May, 1895, and it is still as good as when [
received it. I attribute this solely to the Little
Handle-Bar Spring, which I pressed as soon as I
received the machine.
P.S. — What do you charge for rebuilding a
cycle ?
Aug • tst} 1906.
GENTLEMEN, — Last month I started to ride to
Barnet on one of your cycles. When ascending
105
Our own Undergraduate (fresh front his Euclid), " Ha ! Two
riders to one prop."
Muswell Hill, I lost control of the machine, but I
simply pressed the spring, and now I feel that I
cannot say enough about your bike. I shall never
ride any other again.
P.S. — I should very much like to meet the
inventor of the "Little Handle-Bar Spring."
1 06
167
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE PERFECT AUTOMOBILIST
[With acknowledgments to the Editor of " The Car "]
Who is the happy road-deer ? Who is he
That every motorist should want to be ?
THE Perfect Automobilist thinks only of others.
He is an Auto-altruist.
He never wantonly kills anybody.
If he injures a fellow-creature (and this will
always be the fellow-creature's fault) he voluntarily
buys him a princely annuity. In the case of a
woman, if she is irreparably disfigured by the
accident, he will, supposing he has no other wife
at the time, offer her the consolation of marriage
with himself.
He regards the life of bird and beast as no less
sacred than that of human beings. Should he
inadvertently break a fowl or pig he will convey it
to the nearest veterinary surgeon and have the
broken limb set or amputated as the injury may
require. In the event of death or permanent
damage, he will seek out the owner of the dumb
animal, and refund him fourfold.
To be on the safe side with respect to the legal
limit, the Perfect Automobilist confines himself to
1 08
Obliging Horseman (of riverside breeding,. " Ave a tow up. miss?'
tog
Mr. Punch Awheel
a speed of ten miles per hour. He will even dis-
mount at the top of a steep descent, so as to lessen
the impetus due to the force of gravity.
If he is compelled by the nature of his mission
to exceed the legal limit (as when hurrying, for
instance, to fetch a doctor in a matter of life or
death, or to inform the Government of the landing
of a hostile force) he is anxious not to shirk the
penalty. He will, therefore, send on a swift
messenger to warn the police to be on the look-
out for him ; and if he fails to run into any trap
he will, on returning, report himself at all the
police-stations on his route, or communicate by
post with the constabularies of the various counties
through which he may have passed.
At the back of his motor he carries a watering-
cart attachment for the laying of dust before it has
time to be raised.
Lest the noise of his motor should be a cause of
distraction he slows down when passing military
bands, barrel organs, churches (during the hours of
worship), the Houses of Parliament (while sitting),
motor-buses, the Stock Exchange, and open-air
meetings of the unemployed,
na
Mr. Punch Awheel
If he meets a restive horse he will turn back and
go down a side road and wait till it has passed. If
all the side roads are occupied by restive horses
he will go back home ; and if the way home is
similarly barred he will turn into a field.
He encourages his motor to break down fre-
quently ; because this spectacle affords an innocent
diversion to many whose existence would other-
wise be colourless.
It is his greatest joy to give a timely lift to
weary pedestrians, such as tramps, postmen,
sweeps, and police-trap detectives ; even though,
the car being already full, he is himself compelled
to get out and do the last fifty or sixty miles on
foot.
He declines to wear goggles because they conceal
the natural benevolence of the human eye divine,
which he regards as the window of the soul ; also
(and for the same reason he never wears a fur over-
coat) because they accentuate class distinctions.
Finally — on this very ground — the Perfect Auto-
mobilist will sell all his motor-stud and give the
proceeds to found an almshouse for retired
socialists.
112
Middle-aged Novice. " I'm just off for a tour in the country —
' biking ' all the way. It'll be four weeks before I'm back in my flat
again." Candid Friend. " Ah ! Bet it won't be four hours
before you're flat on your back again 1 "
P.A.
113
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE LAST RECORD
(The Wail of a Wiped-out Wheelman)
AIR—" The Lost Chord "
READING one day in our " Organ,"
I was happy and quite at ease.
A band was playing the " Lost Chord?
Outside — in three several keys.
But I cared not how they were playing,
Those puffing Teutonic men ;
For I'd " cut the record " at cycling,
And was ten-mile champion then !
It flooded my cheeks with crimson,
The praise of my pluck and calm ;
Though that band seemed blending " Kafoozleum
With a touch of the Hundredth Psalm.
But my joy soon turned into sorrow,
My calm into mental strife ;
For my record was " cut " on the morrow.
And it cut me, like a knife.
A fellow had done the distance
In the tenth of a second less !
And henceforth my name in silence
Was dropt by the Cycling Press.
I have sought — but I seek it vainly —
With that record again to shine,
Midst crack names in our Cycling Organ,
But they never mention mine.
It may be some day at the Oval
I may cut that record again,
But at present the Cups are given
To better — or luckier — men 1
114
THE MOTOR-BATH
Nurse. " Oh, baby, look at the diver ! "
H 2
Mr. Punch Awheel
A SONG OF THE ROAD
TINKLE, twinkle, motor-car,
Just to tell us where you are,
While about the streets you fly
Like a comet in the sky.
When the blazing sun is " off,"
When the fog breeds wheeze and cough,
Round the corners as you scour
With your dozen miles an hour —
Then the traveller in the dark,
Growling some profane remark,
Would not know which way to go
While you're rushing to and fro.
On our fears, then, as you gloat
(Ours who neither "bike" nor "mote"),
Just, to tell us where you are —
Tinkle, twinkle, motor-car.
" MOTOR BODY." — " One man can change from a
tonneau to a landaulette, shooting brake, or
racing car in two minutes, and, when fixed, cannot
be told from ANY fixed body." — Advt. in the
"Autocar?
The disguise would certainly deceive one's
nearest relations, but as likely as not one's dog
would come up and give the whole show away
by licking the sparking plug.
116
FACILIS
Bikist (gaily). " Here we go down I down ! down 1
down ! "
118
DESCENSUS!"
The same (very much down). " Never again with you,
my bikey ! "
119
Mr. Punch Awheel
SHOULD MOTORS CARRY MAXIMS ? — UNDER
the title "Murderous Magistrate," the Daily Mail
printed some observations made by a barrister
who reproves Canon Greenwell for remarking from
the Durham County Bench that if a few motorists
were shot no great harm would be done. The
same paper subsequently published an article
headed, " Maxims for Motorists." Retaliation in
kind is natural, and a maxim is an excellent retort
to a canon. But why abuse the canon first ?
So many accidents have occurred lately through
the ignition of petrol that a wealthy motorist, we
hear, is making arrangements for his car to be
followed, wherever it may go, by a fully-equipped
fire-engine, and, if this example be followed
widely, our roads will become more interesting
than ever.
ARE there motor-cars in the celestial regions?
Professor Schaer, of Geneva, has discovered what
he describes as a new comet plunging due south at
a rate of almost 8 degrees a day, and careering
across the Milky Way regardless of all other
traffic.
120
1*1
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE MOTOCRAT
I AM he : goggled and unashamed. Furred also
am I, stop-watched and horse-powerful. Millions
admit my sway — on both sides of the road. The
Plutocrat has money : I have motors. The
Democrat has the rates ; so have I — two — one for
use and one for County Courts. The Autocrat is
dead, but I — I increase and multiply. I have
taken his place.
I blow my horn and the people scatter. I stand
still and everything trembles. I move and kill
dogs. I skid and chickens die. I pass swiftly
from place to place, and horses bolt in dust storms
which cover the land. I make the dust storms.
For I am Omnipotent ; I make everything. I
make dust, I make smell, I make noise. And I
go forward, ever-forward, and pass through or over
almost everything. " Over or Through " is my
motto.
The roads were made for me ; years ago they
were made. Wise rulers saw me coming and
made roads. Now that I am come, they go on
T22
123
Mr. Punch Awheel
making roads — making them up. For I break
things. Roads I break and Rules of the Road.
Statutory limits were made for me. I break
them. I break the dull silence of the country,
Sometimes I break down, and thousands flock
round me, so that I dislocate the traffic. But I am
the Traffic.
I am I and She is She — the rest get out of the
way. Truly, the hand which rules the motor
rocks the world.
MOTOR CAR-ACTERISTICS
(By an Old Whip)
JERKING and jolting,
Bursting and bolting,
Smelling and steaming,
Shrieking and screaming,
Snorting and shaking,
Quivering, quaking,
Skidding and slipping,
Twisting and tripping,
Bumping and bounding,
Puffing and pounding,
Rolling and rumbling,
Thumping and tumbling.
Such I've a notion,
Motor-car motion
124
125
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE RECKLESS ONE
Wife of Injured Cyclist (who, having found, considerable
difficulty in getting on his bicycle, and none whatever in coming
off, has never ventured to attempt more than three miles in the
hour}. " Well, I do believe he's had a lesson at last ! I
warned him about ' scorchin?.' I said to him, what have
you got to do with the ' record ' ? "
126
AN INOPPORTUNE TIME
Jones, while motoring to town to fulfil an important
engagement, has the misfortune to get stuck up on the
road, and has sent his chauffeur to the village for assis-
tance. In the meantime several village children gather
around and sing, " God rest you, merry gentleman, let
nothing you dismay," etc.
THE GREAT MOTOR MYSTERY. — At Lancaster
two motorists were fined, according to the Man-
chester Evening News, " for driving a motor-car
over a trap near Carnforth, at twenty-nine and
thirty-four miles per hour respectively." We are
of the opinion that the action of the second gentle-
man in driving at so high a speed over the poor
trap when it was already down was not quite in
accordance with the best traditions of English sport,
127
P.A,
129
Mr. Punch Awheel
CRAZY TALES
THE Duchess of Pomposet was writhing, poor
thing, on the horns of a dilemma. Painful position,
very. She was the greatest of great ladies, full of
fire and fashion, and with a purple blush (she was
born that colour) flung bangly arms round the neck
of her lord and master. The unfortunate man was
a shocking sufferer, having a bad unearned incre-
ment, and enduring constant piin on account of
his back being broader than his views.
" Pomposet," she cried, resolutely. " Duky
darling ! "
(When first married she had ventured to apos-
trophise him as " ducky," but His Grace thought it
infra dig., and they compromised by omitting the
vulgar " c.")
"Duky," she said, raising pale distinguished
eyes to a Chippendale mirror, "I have made up
my mind."
" Don't," expostulated the trembling peer.
" You are so rush ! "
" What is more, I have made up yours."
" To make up the mind of an English Duke,"
130
I 2
Mr. Punch Awheel
he remarked, with dignity, " requires no ordinary
intellect; yet I believe with your feminine hydraulics
you are capable of anything, Jane."
(That this aristocratic rib of his rib should have
been named plain Jane was a chronic sorrow.)
" Don't keep me in suspense," he continued ;
" in fact, to descend to a colloquialism, I insist on
Your Grace letting the cat out of the bag with the
least possible delay."
" As you will," she replied. " Your blood be
on your own coronet. Prepare for a shock — a
revelation. I have fallen ! Not once — but many
times."
" Wretched woman ! — I beg pardon ! — wretched
Grande Dame ! call upon Debrett to cover you ! "
" I am madly in love with "
" By my taffeta and ermine, I swear "
" Peace, peace ! " said Jane. " Compose your-
self, ducky — that is Plantagenet. Forgive the
slip. I am agitated. My mind runs on slips."
The Duke groaned.
" Horrid, awful slips ! "
With a countenance of alabaster he tore at his
sandy top-knot.
»33
Mr. Punch Awheel
" I have deceived you. I admit it Stooped to
folly."
A supercilious cry rent the air as the Duke
staggered on his patrician limbs.
With womanly impulse — flinging caste to the
winds — Jane caught the majestic form to her
palpitating alpaca, and, watering his beloved
features with Duchessy drops, cried in passionate
accents, " My King ! My Sensitive Plant !
Heavens ! It's his unlucky back ! Be calm,
Plantagenet. I have — been — learning — to —
bike ! There ! On the sly ! "
The Duke flapped a reviving toe, and squeezed
the august fingers.
" I am madly enamoured of — my machine."
The peer smoothed a ruffled top-knot with
ineffable grace.
" Likewise am determined you shall take lessons.
Now it is no use, duky. I mean to be tender but
firm with you."
The Potentate gave a stertorous chortle, and,
stretching out his arms, fell in a strawberry-leaf
swoon on the parquet floor, his ducal head on the
lap of his adored Jane.
QUITE RESPECTFUL
tV Cyclist. " Is that the incumbent of this parish ? "
Parishioner. " Well, 'e's the Vicar. But, wotever some
of us thinks, we never calls 'im a hencumbrance ! "
Gipsy Fortune-teller (seriously). " Let me warn you.
Somebody's going to cross your path.
Motorist. " Don't you think you'd better warn the other
chap ? "
THE SCORCHER
(After WMiam Watson)
I DO not, in the crowded street
Of cab and " 'bus " and mire,
Nor in the country lane so sweet,
Hope to escape thy tyre.
One boon, oh, scorcher, I implore,
With one petition kneel,
At least abuse me not before
Thou break me on thy wheel.
136
A motorist wishes to point out the very grave danger
this balloon -scorching may become, and suggests a speed
limit be made before things go too far.
137
Mr. Punch Awheel
THE MUGGLETON MOTOR-CAR ;
OR, THE WELLERS ON WHEELS
A Pickwickian Fragment Up-to-date
As light as fairies, if not altogether as brisk as
bees, did the four Pickwickian shades assemble
on a winter morning in the year of grace, 1896.
Christmas was nigh at hand, in all its fin-de-siccle
inwardness ; it was the season of pictorial too-
previousness and artistic anticipation, of plethoric
periodicals, all shocker-sensationalism sandwiched
with startling advertisements ; of cynical new-
humour and flamboyantly sentimental chromo-
lithography.
But we are so taken up by the genial delights
of the New Christmas that we are keeping Mr.
Pickwick and his phantom friends waiting in the
cold on the chilly outside of the Muggleton Motor-
car, which they had just mounted, well wrapped up
in antiquated great coats, shawls, and comforters.
Mr. Weller, Senior, had, all unconsciously,
brought his well-loved whip with him, and was
greatly embarrassed thereby.
138
139
Mr. Punch Awheel
"Votever shall I do vith it, Sammy?" he
whispered, hoarsely.
" Purtend it's a new, patent, jointless fishing-rod,
guv'nor," rejoined Sam, in a Stygian aside.
" Nobody 'ere '11 'ave the slightest notion vot it
really is."
" When are they — eh — going to — ahem — put the
horses to?" murmured Mr. Pickwick, emerging
from his coat collar, and looking about him with
great perplexity.
"'Osses?" cried the coachman, turning round
upon Mr. Pickwick, with sharp suspicion in his
eye. " ' Osses ? d'ye say. Oh, who are you
a-gettin' at ? "
Mr. Pickwick withdrew promptly into his coat-
collar.
The irrepressible Sam came immediately to the
aid of his beloved master, whom he would never
see snubbed if he knew it.
" There's vheels vithin vheels, as the bicyclist
said vhen he vos pitched head foremost into the
vatchmaker's vinder," remarked Mr. Weller,
Junior, with the air of a Solomon in smalls. "But
vot sort of a vheel do you call that thing in front
140
MOTOR MANIA. — The Pott (deprecatingly). "They say
she gives more attention tc her motor-cars than to her
children." The Butterfly. "Of course. How absurd you
are 1 Motor-cars require more attention than children "
141
Mr. Punch Awheel
of you, and vot's its pertikler objeck ? a top of a
coach instead o' under it ? "
" This yer wheel means Revolution," said the
driver.
" It do, Samivel, it do," interjected his father
dolorously. " And in my opinion it's a worse
Revolution than that there French one itself. A
coach vithout 'osses, vheels instead of vheelers, and
a driver vithout a vhip ! Oh Sammy, Sammy, to
think it should come to this ! ! ! "
The driver — if it be not desecration to a noble
old name so to designate him — gave a turn to his
wheel and the autocar started. Mr. Winkle, who
sat at the extreme edge, waggled his shadowy legs
forlornly in the air ; Mr. Snodgrass, who sat next
to him, snorted lugubriously ; Mr. Tupman turned
paler than even a Stygian shade has a right to do.
Mr. Pickwick took off his glasses and wiped them
furtively.
" Sam," he whispered hysterically in the ear of his
faithful servitor, " Sam, this is dreadful ! A — ahem !
— vehicle with no visible means of propulsion
pounding along like — eh — Saint Denis without his
head, is more uncanny than Charon's boat.'
142
143
Mr. Punch Awheel
" Let's get down, Sammy, let's get down at
once," groaned Mr. Weller the elder. "I can't
stand it, Samivel, I really can't. Think o' the
poor 'osses, Sammy, think o' the poor 'osses as ain't
there, and vot they must feel to find theirselves
sooperseeded by a hugly vheel and a pennorth o'
peteroleum, &c. ! "
" Hold on, old Nobs ! " cried the son, with frank
filial sympathy. " Think of the guv'nor, father,
and vait for the first stoppage. Never again vith
the Muggleton Motor ! Vhy, it vorse than a
hortomatic vheelbarrow, ain't it, Mr. Pickwick ? "
"Ah, Sammy," assented Mr. Weller, Senior,
hugging his whip, affectionately. " Vorse even
than vidders, Sammy, the red-nosed shepherd, or
the Mulberry One hisself ! "
A BEAR in a motor-car attracted much attention
in the City last week. It had four legs this time.
THE Motor Car declares, on high medical
authority, that motoring is a cure for insanity.
We would therefore recommend several motorists
we know to persevere.
'44
M5
Pedestrian. " I hear Brown has taken to cycling, and is
very enthusiastic about it ! "
Cyclist. " Enthusiastic ! Not a bit of it. Why, he
never rides before breakfast I "
146
GROTESQUERIES
Words wanted to express feelings
When your motor refuses to move, twenty miles from the
nearest town,
K2
SO INCONSIDERATE
" Jove I Might have killed us ! I must have a wire screen
fixed up."
BROWNING ON THE ROAD
ROUND the bend of a sudden came 213,
And I shot into his front wheel's rim ;
And straight was a fine of gold for him,
And the need of a brand-new bike for me.
148
"IF DOUGHTY DEEDS MY LADY PLEASE"
" Mamma 1 Mr. White says he is longing to give you your
first bicycle lesson T"
Mr. Punch Awheel
A WISH
(By a Wild Wheelman. A long way after Rogers)
MINE be a " scorch " without a spill,
A loud " bike " bell to please mine ear ;
A chance to maim, if not to kill,
Pedestrian parties pottering near.
My holloa, e'er my prey I catch,
Shall raise wild terror in each breast ;
If luck or skill that prey shall snatch
From my wild wheel, the shock will test.
On to the bike beside my porch
I'll spring, like falcon on its prey,
And Lucy, on her wheel shall " scorch,"
And " coast " with me the livelong day.
To make old women's marrow freeze
Is the best sport the bike has given.
To chase them as they puff and wheeze,
On rubber tyre — by Jove, 'tis heaven !
THE BIKER BIKED
HENPECK'D he was. He learnt to bike.
" Now I can go just where I like,"
He chuckled to himself. But she
Had learnt to bike as well as he,
And, what was more, had bought a new
Machine to sweetly carry two.
Ever together now they go,
He sighing, " This is wheel and woe."
150
"WHERE IGNORANCE IS BLISS," &c.
£>y f/te erratic steering). " Er — and have you driven
much ?" She (quite pleased with herself). " Oh, no — this is only
my second attempt. But then, you see, I have been used to a
bicycle for years! "
MISUNDERSTOOD
Donald (who has picked up fair cyclist's handkerchief). " Hi !
Woman I Woman 1 "
Fair Cyclist (indignantly), " ' Woman ' 1 How dare
you "
Donald (out of breath). " I beg your pardon, sir 1 I
thought you was a woman. I didna see your trews"
AUTOMOBILE dust-carts, says the Matin, are to
be used in Paris henceforth. We had thought every
motor-car was this.
152
RUB-BISH
MAY BE
SHOT HERC
ENGLISH DICTIONARY ILLUSTRATED. — " Coincidence." The
falling or meeting of two or more lines or bodies at the same point.
Mr. Punch Awheel
REFLECTIONS OF A MOTOR-
RACER
Two A.M. ! Time to get up, if I'm to be ready
for the great Paris-Berlin race at 3.30. Feel very
cold and sleepy. Pitch dark morning, of course.
Moon been down hours. Must get into clothes, I
suppose. Oilskins feel very clammy and heavy at
this hour in the morning. Button up tunic and
tuck trousers into top boots. Put on peaked cap
and fasten veil tightly over face, after covering
eyes with iron goggles and protecting mouth with
respirator. Wind woollen muffler round neck and
case hands in thick dogskin gloves with gauntlets.
Look like Nansen going to discover North Pole.
Or Tweedledum about to join battle with Tweedle-
dee. Effect on the whole unpleasing.
Great crowds to see us off. Nearly ran over
several in effort to reach starting post. Very care-
less. People ought not to get in the way on these
occasions. Noise appalling. Cheers, snatches of
Marseillaise^ snorts of motors, curses of com-
petitors, cries of bystanders knocked down by
Mr. Punch Awheel
enthusiastic chauffeurs, -shouts of gendarmes clear-
ing the course. Spectators seem to find glare of
acetylene lamps very confusing. Several more or less
injured through not getting out of the way suffi-
ciently quickly. At last the flag drops. We are off.
Pull lever, and car leaps forward. Wonder if
wiser to start full speed or begin gently ? Decide
on latter. Result, nearly blinded by dust of com-
petitors in front, and suffocated by stench of
petroleum. Fellow just ahead particularly objec-
tionable in both respects. Decide to quicken up
and pass him. Can't see a foot before me on
account of his dust. Suddenly run into the stern
of his car. Apologise. Can't I look where I'm
going? Of course I can. Not my fault at all.
Surly fellow ! Proceed to go slower. Fellow
behind runs into me. Confound him, can't he be
more careful ? Says he couldn't see me. Idiot !
Put on speed again. Car in front just visible
through haze of dust. Hear distant crash. Con-
found the man, he's run into a dray! Just time to
swerve to the right, and miss wreck of his car by
an inch. Clumsy fellow, blocking my road in that
• way. At last clear space before me. Go up with
156
157
Mr. Punch Awheel
a rush. Wind whistles past rny ears. Glorious I
What's that ? Run over an old woman ? Very
annoying. Almost upset my car. Awkward for
next chap. Body right across the road. Spill
him to a certainty.
Morning growing light, but. dust thicker than
ever. Scarcely see a yard in front of me. Must
trust to luck. Fortunately road pretty straight
here. Just missed big tree. Collided with small
one. Knocked it over like a ninepin. Lucky I
was going so fast. Car uninjured, but tree done
for. Man in car just ahead very much in my way.
Shout to him to get out of the light. Turns round
and grins malevolently. Movement fatal. He
forgets to steer and goes crash into ditch. What's
that he says ? Help ? Silly fellow, does he think
I can stop at this pace ? Curious how ignorant
people seem to be of simplest mechanical laws.
Magnificent piece of road here. Nothing in
sight but a dog. Run over it. Put on full speed
Seventy miles an hour at least. Can no longer see
or hear anything. Trees, villages, fields rush by
in lightning succession. Fancy a child is knocked
down. Am vaguely conscious of upsetting old
158
THE INTERPRETATION OF SIGNS
Custodian. " This 'ere's a private road, miss I Didn't yer see the
notice-board at the gate, sayin' ' No thoroughfare ' ? "
Placida. " Oh yes, of course. Why, that's how I knew there was
a way through I "
159
Mr. Punch Awheel
gentleman in gig. Seem to notice a bump on
part of car, indicating that it has passed over
prostrate fellow citizen, but not sure. Sensation
most exhilarating. Immolate another child.
Really most careless of parents leaving children
loose like this in the country. Some day there
will be an accident. Might have punctured my
tyre.
Chap in front of me comes in sight. Catching
him up fast. He puts on full speed. Still gaining
on him. Pace terrific. Sudden flash just ahead,
followed by loud explosion. Fellow's benzine
reservoir blown up apparently. Pass over smoking
ruins of car. Driver nowhere to be seen. Probably
lying in neighbouring field. That puts him out of
the race.
Eh? What's that? Aix in sight? Gallop,
says Browning. Better not, perhaps. Road ahead
crowded with spectators. Great temptation to
charge through them in style. Mightn't, be
popular, though. Slow down to fifteen miles an
hour, and enter town amid frantic cheering. Most
interesting. Wonderfully few casualties. Dis-
mount at door of hotel dusty but triumphant.
160
P.A.
161
QUITE A LITTLE HOLIDAY
Cottager. "What's wrong, Biker? Have you had a
spill?"
Biker, " Oh, no. I'm having a rest I "
162
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
OW G«tf (/a^/y 6t««» wi//j £/« craze). " And that confounded
man sold me the thing for a safety ! "
Motoring Illustrated suggests the institution of a
Motor Museum. If we were sure that most of the
motor omnibuses at present in our streets would
find their way there, we would gladly subscribe.
163
Mr. Punch Awheel
PROTECTION AGAINST MOTOR-CARS
SIR, — I recently read with interest a letter in the
Times from "A Cyclist since 1868." In it he
announced his intention of carrying a tail-light in
order to avoid being run into from behind. The
idea is admirable, and my wife and I, as Pedestrians
since 1826 and 1823 respectively, propose to wear
two lamps each in future, a white and a red.
We are, however, a little exercised to know
whether we should carry the white in front and the
red behind, or vice versa. For in walking along the
right side of a road we shall appear on the wrong
side to an approaching motor-car. Would it not
therefore be better for us to have the tail-light in
front. Your most humble and obedient servant,
Lux PR^POSTERA.
p.S. — Would such an arrangement make us
" carriages " in the eye of the law ? At present we
appear to be merely a sub-division of the class
" unlighted objects."
CURE FOR MOTOR-SCORCHERS (suggested as
being even more humane than the proposal of Sir R.
Payne-Gallwey). — Give them Automobile Beans !
164
I65
Mr. Punch Awheel
HOW THE MATCH CAME OFF
A HARMONY ON WHEELS
(Miss Angelica has challenged Mr. Wotherspoon to a race on
the Queen's highway.)
Fytte i.
Mr. W. Fine start !
(Faint heart!)
Miss A. Horrid hill!
(Feeling ill !)
Fytte 2.
Mr. W. Going strong 1
Come along 1
Fytte 3.
Miss A. Road quite even I
Perfect heaven !
Fytte 4.
Mr. IV. Goal in view 1
Running true !
Miss A. Make it faster 1
Spur your caster I
Fytte 5.
Mr. W. Fairly done 1
Miss A. Match is won 1
[They dismount. Pause.
Mr. W. What ! Confess 1
Miss A. Well then— yes!
1 66
Mr. Punch Awheel
MOTOROBESITY
(A Forecast)
IN the spring of 1913 St. John Skinner came
back from Africa, after spending nine or ten years
somewhere near the Zambesi. He travelled up to
Waterloo by the electric train, and the three very
stout men who were in the same first-class com-
partment seemed to look at him with surprise. On
arriving at his hotel he pushed his way through a
crowd of fat persons in the hall. Then he changed
his clothes, and went round to his Club to dine.
The dining-room was filled with members of
extraordinary obesity, all eating heartily. In the
fat features of one of them he thought he recognised
a once familiar face. " Round," said he, " how are
you ? "
The stout man stopped eating, and gazed at
him anxiously. "Why," he murmured, after a
while, in the soft voice that comes from folds of
fat, " it must be Skinner. My dear fellow, what is
the matter with you ? Have you had a fever ? "
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Mr. Punch Awheel
" I'm all right," answered the other ; " what
makes you think I've been ill ? "
" 111, man ! " said Round, " why you've wasted
away to nothing. You're a perfect skeleton."
" If it's a question of bulk," remarked Skinner,
" I'm much more surprised. You've grown so stout,
every fellow in the Club seems so stout, everyone
I've seen is as fat as — as— as you are."
" Heavens ! " exclaimed Round, "you don't mean
to say I've been putting on more flesh ? I'm the
light weight of the Club. I only weigh sixteen
stone. No, no, you're chaffing, or you judge by
your own figure."
" Not a bit," said the other ; " you and I used to
weigh about the same. What on earth has happened
to you all ? "
" Well," said Round, " perhaps you're right. It's
very much what the doctors say. It's the fashion-
able complaint, motorobesity. Sit down, and dine
with me, and I'll tell you what the idea is. You
see, it's like this. For ten years or so everybody
who could afford a motor of some sort has had one.
We've all had one. Not to have a motor has
been simply ridiculous, if not disreputable. So
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Mr. Punch Awheel
everybody has ridden about all day in the fresh
air, never had any exercise, and got an enormous
appetite. Besides, in the summer we've always been
drinking beer to wash down the dust, and in the
winter soup, or spirits, or something to warm us.
My dear fellow, you can't think what an appetite
motoring gives you. I had an enormous steak for
my lunch at Winchester to-day, and a great lump
of plum cake with my tea at Aldershot, and my
aunt, the General's wife, made me bring a bag of
biscuits to eat on the way up, and yet I'm so hungry
now that I should feel quite uncomfortable if the
thirst those biscuits, and the dust, gave me didn't
make me almost forget it. I suppose everyone is
really getting fat. One notices it when one does
happen to see a thin fellow like you. Why, in all
the Clubs they've had to have new arm-chairs,
because the old ones were too narrow. However,
I've talked enough about motoring. So glad to
see you again, old chap. Of course you'll get a
motor as soon as possible."
" Well," said Skinner, " I rather think I shall
buy a horse."
" My dear fellow," cried Round, " what an idea !
172
Tu QUOQUE.— Cyclist (a beginner who has just collided with
freshly -painted fence). " Confound your filthy paint I Now, just
look at my coat!" Painter. " 'Ang yer bloomin' coat I 'Out
about my paint ? "
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Mr. Punch Awheel
Horse-riding is such awfully bad form. Besides,
you can't go any pace. Look at me. I wouldn't
get on a horse, and be shaken to pieces."
" I should think not," said Skinner, " but I think
I should prefer that to motorobesity."
AN advertisement in The Motor quotes the testi-
mony of a gentleman from Moreton-in-the-Marsh,
who states that he has run a certain car " nearly
412,500 miles in four months, and is more than
pleased with it." As this works out (on a basis of
twenty-four hours' running per diem] at about 143
miles per hour, we have pleasure in asking what
the police are doing in Moreton-in-the-Marsh and
its vicinity.
NOTICING an advertisement of a book entitled
" The Complete Motorist," an angry opponent of the
new method of locomotion writes to suggest that
the companion volume, " The Complete Pedestrian,"
had better be written at once before it becomes
impossible to find an entire specimen.
MAXIM FOR CYCLISTS. — " TVj-cycle before you
NOTE TO THE SUPERSTITIOUS
It is considered lucky for a black cat to cross your path.
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Mr. Punch Awheel
WAITING FOR
A Study of Rural
" W'y, I remembers the time w'en I'd 'ave stopped that
for furious drivin', an' I reckon it's only goin" about a paltry
fifteen mile an hour 1 "
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Mr. Punch Awheel
BIGGER GAME
Police Methods
"Ar! Now them cyclists is puttin* on a fairish pace!
Summat about twenty mile an hour, I s'pose. But 'tain't
no business o' mine. I'm 'ere to stop motor-caws. Wot ho ! "
P.A.
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Mr. Punch Awheel
LOVE IN A CAR
[" I have personal knowledge of marriages resulting trom
motor-car courtships." — The HON. C. S. ROLLS. — Daily
Express.]
WHEN Reginald asked me to drive in his car
I knew what it meant for us both,
For peril to love-making offers no bar,
But fosters the plighting of troth.
To the tender occasion I hastened to rise,
So bought a new frock on the strength of it,
Some china-blue chiffon — to go with my eyes —
And wrapped up my head with a length of it.
" Get in," said my lover, " as quick as you can ! "
He wore a black smear on his face,
And held out the hand of a rough artisan
To pilot me into my place.
Like the engine my frock somehow seemed to mis-fire,
For Reginald's manner was querulous,
But after some fuss with the near hind-wheel tyre
We were off at a pace that was perilous.
" There's Brown just behind, on his second-hand brute,
He thinks it can move, silly ass! "
Said Reggie with venom, " Ha! Ha ! let him hoot,
I'll give him some trouble to pass."
My service thenceforth was by Reggie confined
(He showed small compunction in suing it)
To turning to see how far Brown was behind,
But not to let Brown see me doing it.
178
Miller (looking after cyclist, who has a slight touch of motor mania),
" Well, to be sure ! There do be some main ignorant chaps out o1
London. 'E comes 'ere askin' me 'ow many 'orse power the old mill
ad got."
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Mr. Punch Awheel
Brown passed us. We dined off his dust for a league —
It really was very poor fun —
Till, our car showed symptoms of heat and fatigue,
Reggie had to admit he was done.
To my soft consolation scant heed did he pay,
But with taps was continually juggling,
And his words, " Will you keep your dress further away ? "
Put a stop to this incipient smuggling.
" He'd never have passed me alone," Reggie sighed,
" The car's extra heavy with you."
" Why ask me to come ? " I remarked. He replied,
" I thought she'd go better with two."
When I touched other topics, forbearingly meek,
From his goggles the lightnings came scattering,
" What chance do you give me of placing this squeak,"
He hissed, " when you keep up that chattering ? "
At that, I insisted on being set down
And returning to London by train,
And I vowed fifty times on my way back to town
That I never would see him again.
Next week he appeared and implored me to wed,
With a fondly adoring humility.
" The car stands between us," I rigidly said.
" I've sold it ! " he cried with agility.
His temples were sunken, enfeebled his frame,
There was white in the curls on his crest ;
When he spoke of our ride in a whisper of shame
I flew to my home on his breast.
By running sedately I'm certain that Love
To such passion would never have carried us,
Which settles the truth of the legend above —
It was really the motor-car married us.
180
/
Smart Girl (to keen motorist}. " My sister has bought a
beautiful motor-car." Keen Motorist. " Really ! What
kind ? " Smart Girl. " Oh, a lovely sage green, to go
with her frocks."
189
.... — .. (
Mrs. Binks (who has lost control of her machine). " Oh, oh, Harry
Please get into a bank soon. I must have something soft to fall on I '
183
Afiss Heavytopp. " I'm afraid I'm giving you a lot of bother, but
then, it's only my first lesson ! " Exhausted Instructor (sotto voce).
" I only hope it won't be my last I "
SORROWS OF A "CHAUFFEUR"
Ancient Dame. "What d'ye say? They call he a
' shuvver,' do they ? I see. They put he to walk behind
and shove 'em up the hills, I reckon."
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Mr, Punch Awheel
A CYCLE OF CATHAY. — The Yorkshire Evening
Post, in reporting the case of a motor-cyclist charged
with travelling at excessive speed on the highway
at Selby, represents a police-sergeant as stating
that " he timed defendant over a distance of 633
years, which was covered in 64 sees. The conten-
tion of the defendant that he had been "very
imperfectly timed " has an air of captiousness.
" MANY roads in the district are unfit for
motorists," is the report of the Tadcaster surveyor
to his council. We understand the inhabitants
have resolved to leave well alone.
AT a meeting of the Four Wheeler's Association,
a speaker boasted, with some justification, that a
charge which is brought every day against drivers
of motor-cars has never been brought against
members of their Association, namely, that of
driving at an excessive speed.
RUMOUR is again busy with the promised appear-
ance of a motor-bus which is to be so quiet that you
will not know that there is one on the road until
you have been run over.
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Mr. Punch Awheel
MY MOTOR CAP
[Motor-caps, we are informed, have created such a vogue
in the Provinces, that ladies, women and factory girls
may be seen wearing them on every occasion, though
unconnected, in other respects, with modern methods of
locomotion.]
A MOTOR car I shall never afford
With a gay vermilion bonnet,
Of course I might happen to marry a lord,
But it's no good counting on it.
I have never reclined on the seat behind,
And hurtled across the map,
But my days are blest with a mind at rest,
For I wear a motor cap.
I am done with Gainsborough, straw and toque,
My dresses are bound with leather,
I turn up my collar like auto-folk,
And stride through the pitiless weather ;
With a pound of scrag in an old string bag,
In a tram with a child on my lap,
Wherever I go, to shop or a show,
I wear a motor cap.
I don't know a silencer from a clutch,
A sparking-plug from a bearing,
But no one, I think, is in closer touch
With the caps the w^men are wearing ;
I'm aufait with the trim of the tailor-made brim,
The crown and machine-stitched strap ;
Though I've neither the motor, the sable- lined coat, nor
The goggles — I wear the cap.
190
No, this isn't a collection of tubercular microbes
escaping from the congress ; but merely the Montgomery-
Smiths in their motor-car, enjoying the beauties of the
country.
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Mr. Punch Awheel
LINES BY A REJECTED AND DEJECTED
CYCLIST
You do not at this juncture
Feel, as I, the dreadful smart,
And you scorn the cruel puncture
Of the tyre of my heart !
But mayhap, at some Life-turning,
When the wheel has run untrue,
You will know why I was burning,
And was scorched alone, by you !
BKADBU1T, AGNEW, ft CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIOGE.
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