644 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



July 15 



ited power and speed under my control. 

 When I say "unlimited " I mean the ma- 

 chine would go faster than I dared to ride. 

 And this speed was ready at any minute by 

 simply pressing my toe on a lever. Faster, 

 faster, faster — until I was afraid to go 

 faster — still. It was an easy matter to keep 

 up with the street-cars that ran along by 

 my side. And this machine, too, was a 

 special "hill-climber."* 



It is really worth something in a lifetime 

 to be able to rush things, and with the 

 power that shows no fatigue. One can 

 hardly comprehend that there is no danger 

 of overtasking the horse, or that the hot 

 weather does not make any difference. 

 This was all very nice until we came to the 

 end of the brick pavement. My companion, 

 Mr. Auble, sat by my side, telling me which 

 lever to push or pull, constantly repeating 

 the command to keep my eyes on the road 

 ahead. Said he, "Commence at the very 

 outset to make j'our fingers find the levers, 

 without a glance from your eyes, especially 

 when you are on high speed." 



Well, when I came in sight of the clay 

 roads, with holes full of muddy water, and 

 great chunks of dry mud almost as large 

 as a cook-stove, I said, " Mr. Auble, it cer- 

 tainly is impossible to run this machine 

 over that road. We shall just smash it to 

 pieces, and never get there." 



I wish I could give you a picture of the 

 twinkle in his eye as he said, " You just do 

 my bidding; have faith in me and the ma- 

 chine, and we shall get to Medina all right 

 before very late bedtime." 



I confess to a great inclination to tell him 

 to take my seat and manage; but that was 

 not according to the contract. I wish you 

 could have heard his quick crisp directions, 

 perhaps something like this: 



"Now pick out your road; put on 3'our 

 power; pull up the spark-lever; now off 

 with your power; put on the brake; ease 

 down at that mudhole; straddle the one 

 ahead of you; put on the slow gear, and the 

 minute she climbs over that obstruction let 

 her down easy with the brake; now get up 

 a little speed for that next bad place — here 

 we go." 



Thus we hobbled along, having hard 

 work sometimes to keep our seats, until 

 chtig we went down into the mud. The 

 thing was stuck, and would not move. 



" There, I told you. Now we shall have 

 to get some horses to pull us out." 



" No, we won't have to have any horses. 

 I never yet had a horse to pull me out, and 

 I don't expect to very soon. Put on 3'our 

 slow motion; back up; swing off to the left 

 with your other power — that's right, here 

 we go. ' ' 



Well, I kept on in this way until I had 

 made a mile. I began to get a glimpse of 

 what is possible with such a machine in 

 the hands of an expert. The work was not 

 very hard, but some way it got me into a 



*One like this designed for sand or heavy grades must 

 necessarily make a slower speed on the level than the 

 regular machine. 



perspiration. The mental strain was 

 ahead of any thing I had ever had on my 

 bicycle, and I was tired enough to be glad 

 to acquiesce when he said, "There, Mr. 

 Root, you could run us home all right, 

 without any doubt; but I think j-ou will 

 learn as much now to watch me, perhaps, 

 as to try it yourself; and I can make quite 

 a liltle better time and not boil the water 

 quite so furiously." 



It was not the water alone that was boil- 

 ing, but it was the blood in my veins from 

 the excitement and enthusiasm. Oh how I 

 did admire the skill with which he made 

 that machine get over that bad roadl Just 

 after dark, sure enough the machine began 

 to get feeble, and it got tired and would not 

 go at all. I think a full half-hour was 

 spent in darkness trying to locate the diffi- 

 cultjs and I felt a little proud to think that 

 I m5'self got hold of it. There was a defect 

 in the make of the spark-plug. The porce- 

 lain insulator was loose. Just as we had 

 concluded we would have to stay over night 

 at the hotel we got at the trouble. A new 

 spark-plug was put in, and we went on our 

 way merrily. 



A few minutes later we struck a piece of 

 better road. It went down hill, winding 

 about through a piece of woods; and it 

 seemed to vay inexperienced vision just 

 frightful the way that thing rushed on in 

 the darkness, and turned the corners. The 

 exhilaration was such that I shouted and 

 swung my cap. Some optical illusion seem- 

 ed to sa5^ we were going down the side of a 

 great mountain. In fact, I could not com- 

 prehend how any thing should go at that 

 terrific speed unless it was down hill. 



We arrived home all right a little after 

 ten. Mr. Auble was going to the hotel; 

 but I insisted he should take his sleep in 

 our home. I will tell you why. I knew I 

 should be up by daylight, or a little after. 

 The whole neighborhood would be still and 

 quiet, and I just hungered for the privilege 

 of getting that machine out on a good road 

 and having fun with it without any one to 

 bother or hinder, or give advice. I had a 

 notion I could master the mechanism after 

 a little study, equal to an3'body else. Yes, 

 I will tell you confidentially that I had a 

 sort of notion that I might be able to make 

 it go a little bette^ than any other live man 

 or woman. I told Mr. Auble what I pro- 

 posed to do, and he said all right. Shall I 

 tell j'ou how I did it? I was up, sure 

 enough. In fact, my fingers just tingled 

 all night long to get hold of those levers 

 and test that new revelation (what I really 

 want to say is that newwonderful and gra- 

 cious gift from the great Father above). I 

 just ached to make that wonderful piece of 

 mechanism respond to my will. I remem- 

 bered the directions. It backed out of its 

 stable all right. It ran the length of our 

 stone road, and behaved itself beautifully. 

 Of course, I went slowl3% because I was a 

 little afraid of it. As there was no living 

 being in sight — of course the road was clear 

 — I thought on the waj' home I would just 



