LEARNING TO RIDE A BICYCLE.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 255, 27 October 1928, Page 2 (Supplement)

LEARNING TO RIDE A BICYCLE.

(By Doris Brown, Fen ton Street. Stratford, age 14.) "Just balance the thing up against that stone fence," said, big brother, standing with leg* astride and hands in pockets. I obediently leant my new bicycle against our stone wall. "Now cock your leg over and sit on the seat." "Over what? the wall!" I inquired. "Haven't you any eammon sense t" he asked politely. I cocked my leg over, but alas! when I did sit on the seat 'twas on the ground as well. Ruefully I picked up my bike, and noted with pain that about half a square ineh of shining enamel had been removed. I also noted, though with greater pain that about hall a ton of gravel had been removed, chiefly by my legs and arms. I stood the bicycle again in unstable equilibrium, and this time kept the centre of gravity in its proper position.

"Balance yourself and pedal," said Ben.

I pedalled for dear life, but unfortunately I pedalled backwards, and brought the back pedal brake into action. "Yon idiot," complimented Ben, "you're using the back-pedal brake."

' I pedalled hard; the bike made no move.

"Just like a girl, of course you won't go if you don't stop holding the wall." I let go, the hike tottered forward about six inches and then gave a lurch. I grabbed franctically at the handle bars. The bicycle apparently received such at shock that it polled up abruptly. 1 subsided ungracefully and uncomfortably cm to the path. "You aw," sail Ben scornfully, "what d'you wast to put the brake on for?" "Brake I* queried I, amazed, *1 pedalled forwards all the time.* "Yes, but you used the front brake when yon grabbed the handle bars. Regardezl" said he, demonstrating. I almost fell over in surprise at his sudden condeseencion. After a quarter of an hour he left me to my own devices, telling me to break my neck and other flattering remarks. I determined not to oblige him. In twenty or thirty bruises I could keep on for five minutes (if lucky), and conld steer rather erratically.

"Com© inside," said mother, handing me a bottle of iodine. "Tea will be ready in half an hoar." I was very stiff, but I persevered valiantly after school. One night I was speeding along at two miles per hour when I chanced to spy old Mr. Johnson's cow sitting right in the middle of the road. I think that I've mentioned I

was not too good at steering. I rang my bell loudly and lustily, but still that cow sat on. To avoid the animal I swerved to one side, inadvertently putting on the back brake. The bike seemed to run away from under me, and the next moment I was sitting on a Scotch thistle, while my bike, having almost succeeded in jumping a ditch, had buried itself in a heap of boxthorn cuttings. What I said about that cow I would not care to repeat, sufficient it is to know that 1 gave it a good hard kick afterwards.

Sadly I picked up my bike and rode slowly homeward. The road seemed rather queer. It was certainly very bumpy; every stone seemed magnified at least five times. When I was telling the family about my adventures I mentioned that the road was very bad. "Bad?" said Ben, who had just come in. "It's a perfect road, as smooth as anything." "Well, you try riding it on my bike," I answered heatedly. "Did you say you went into some boxthorn cuttings t" inquired mother gently. "You silly goat, your tyre's punctured," said the lordly Ben. "It's not the only thing either," I replied sadly. "Well, you can jolly well mend it yourself," said Ben. "You made an idiot of yourself over the bike riding, so you can mend your own puncture."

"That's what I'm going to do," I smiled, 'Til use Zambuk."

The next Saturday, then, behold me working like a Trojan to take the cover off the tyre. I bunted for hours for the tyre-levers, but as Ben had used than last I gave up the attempt, and made off with two of mum's spoons. After breaking one and bending the other, I heard mother coming bade from town, so I hurried along to the back garden and neatly buried the damaged utensils beneath the trailing pumpkins. By using a file I at last managed to get the cover off. I examined the tube, closely, but I didn't seem to be able to find any holes. Ben came along just then.

"What on earth are you doing?" he demanded. , "Looking for punctures* I replied dolefully. "But I don't seem to be able to find any."

He laughed. I dont know why, do you.?

"Leave this to me," be said.

I went into the house and used up two cakes of soap. On looking out the window I saw mum digging among the pumpkins. She stooped down and brought up the spoons from their graves.

* "I wonder who had these." I heard her say. I did not wait for more, seizing my tennis racquet I left by the front door. It served Ben right anyhow, but it's my birthday next month.