of his ambitious friend, that he immediately dismounted. I looked back but no signs of the young man. I rode on to the top of Bread and Cheese Hill and sat down when ^^{ten minutes later} again I heard the puff puff of the motor, much slower now, and our friend the acid eater, looking anything but pleasant, behind. I smiled sweetly at him as he passed but he didn’t seem to appreciate it somehow. Well I hope the lesson would do him good and make a better man of him.

A large percentage of English riders have the habit of trying to "put it through him" strangers, which is a thing I never do myself, as I can always find plenty to try the game on me.

On another Sunday I was returning from Grays 30 miles out, and had just reached the bottom of the long slope approaching Bread and Cheese Hill, and was riding slowly behind some children, when I heard the whizz of wheels and looking round I saw three young men plugging along at a fair pace. I suppose they noticed my racy looking machine, for the second one with ginger hair, looked at me, or stared I should say, with such a jeering leer on his face, that I told him to go ahead and not stare so much. He gave a sort of war whoop and yelled to the leading man to “put it through him”. I darted onto his back wheel, cutting out the third man, and saved my breath for I was approaching a long and terrific hill. Three hundred yards of the gentle slope knocked both the first and last men, and No1 fell out to the left, and the last I heard from him was “Go on Bill burst him But I was determined to burst Bill, and I was riding at least twelve inches bigger gear which doesn’t conduce to hill climbing. We now approached the steepest part of the hill, at the top of which was 150 yards of flat then another steep part for 100 yards. I kept within a yard of him till the flat was reached