Mr. Punch Awheel: The Humours of Motoring and Cycling by J. A. Hammerton (android e book reader TXT) 📗
- Author: J. A. Hammerton
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[Cover]
[Pg 2]
Owner of violently palpitating motor car. "There's no need to be alarmed. It will be all right as soon as I've discovered the what-d'ye-call-it!"
[Pg 3] MR. PUNCH AWHEEL. THE HUMOURS OF MOTORING AND CYCLING. AS PICTURED BYPHIL 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" THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD. [Pg 4] The Punch Library of Humour Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages fully illustrated.
Among the characteristics which are essentially British, is the tendency to receive almost any innovation, be it a new style of dress or a new method of locomotion, with some degree of distrust which shows itself in satirical criticism; to be followed soon after by the acceptance of the accomplished fact and complete approval. In this trait of our national character, 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.
[Pg 6]This diffidence in joining the ranks of the 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. Punch 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 ingenious device for public slaughter, his adverse views have not in the present volume been unduly emphasised.
[Pg 7] 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 proceeding at top-speed. The experiment took place in June; but we have only just received 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-destroying, 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[Pg 8] 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, I 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.
[Pg 9]"Wouldn't yer like ter 'ave one o' them things, Liza Ann?"
"No. I wouldn't be seen on one. I don't think they're nice for lidies!"
[Pg 10] MOTOR QUESTIONSWhat 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.
[Pg 11]"And only yesterday I was fined five pounds for driving at excessive speed!"
[Pg 12]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. But I do!"
Q. Why is the lady bikist of an amorous disposition?
A. Because she is a sigh-cling creature.
[Pg 13]Crowded Out.—Stage-struck Coster (to his dark-coloured donkey). "Othello, Othello, your occupation 'll soon be gone!"
[Pg 14] HINTS FOR BIKING BEGINNERS1. 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 of a gratuitous performance 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[Pg 16] mount your bicycle. Do you remember Mr. Winkle's dialogue with Sam Weller when he attempted skating? You can model your conversation 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 peekish. What's wrong?
Thompson. The vibration of motor-carring has got on my liver.
Johnson. I see, automobilious!
On the Brighton Road.—Cyclist (to owner of 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 whirligig of time.
[Pg 15]"Hi! Whip behind!"
"Yah! 'E ain't got none!"
[Pg 17]Adding Insult to Injury.—Tramp Photographer. "Now, sir, just as you are for a shillin'!" [And little Binks, who prides himself upon his motor driving, is trying his best to get his wife to promise not to tell anyone about the smash.]
[Pg 18] A QUESTION OF ETIQUETTEDear 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! These noble ladies have since cut me dead. I cannot blame them, but I venture to suggest, 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.
Yours in social despair,
Bayswater.
[Pg 19]Cow-boy (to young lady who has taken refuge). "Would you mind openin' the gate, miss? They're a-comin' in there."
[Pg 20]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
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