Puppets at Large Part 15

The BICYCLE. Lots. For one thing, she says she feels so absolutely safe on me; she knows that, whatever she meets, I shall never start, or shy, or rear, or anything of that sort.

BAYARD. I don't remember playing any of those tricks with her, however hard she pulled the curb.

The BICYCLE. Then she says she never has to consider whether any distance will be too much for me.

BAYARD. As for _that_----But the longer I was out with her, the better I was pleased; she might have brought me home as lame as a tree all round, and _I_ shouldn't have cared!

The BICYCLE. Perhaps not. But _she_ would; so inconvenient, you see. Now _my_ strong point is, I _can't_ go lame--in good hands, of course, and she knows exactly how to manage me, I will say that for her!

BAYARD. Does she give you carrots or sugar after a ride? she did _me_.

THE BICYCLE (_with a creak of contempt_). Now what _do_ you suppose I could do with sugar or a carrot if I had it? No, a drop or two of oil now and then is all I take in the way of sustenance. That's _another_ point in my favour, I cost little or nothing to keep. Now, your oats and hay and stuff, I daresay, cost more in a year than I'm worth altogether!

BAYARD.. I must admit that you have the advantage of me in cheapness. If I thought she grudged me my oats----But I'm afraid I couldn't manage on a drop or two of oil.

The BICYCLE. You'd want buckets of it to oil _your_ bearings. No, she wouldn't save by that! (_STUBBS re-enters._) Ah, here comes my man. I must be going; got to take her over to Pineborough, rather a bore this dusty weather, but when a lady's in the case, eh?

BAYARD. There's a nasty hill going into Pineborough; do be careful how you take her down it!

The BICYCLE. You forget, my friend, I'm not a Boneshaker, I'm a Safety.

Why, she'll just put her feet up on the rests, fold her arms, and leave the rest to me. She knows _I_ can be trusted.

BAYARD. Just tell me this before you go. Does--she doesn't pat you, or kiss you on your--er--handle-bar after a run, does she?

The BICYCLE (_turning its front wheel to reply, as STUBBS wheels it out_). You don't imagine I should stand any sentimental rot of that sort, do you? She knows better than to try it on!

BAYARD (_to himself_). I'm glad she doesn't kiss it. I don't think I _could_ have stood that!

_Same Scene. Some Hours Later._

STUBBS (_enters, carrying a dilapidated machine with crumpled handles, a twisted saddle, and a front wheel distorted into an irregular pentagon_).

Well, I 'ope as 'ow this'll sarve as a lesson to 'er, I dew; a marcy she ain't broke her blessed little neck! (_To the Bicycle._) No need to be hover and above purtickler 'bout scratchin' your enamel _now_, any'ow!

(_He pitches it into a corner, and goes._)

BAYARD (_after reconnoitring_). You don't mean to say it's _you_!

The BICYCLE. Me? of course it's me! A nice mess I'm in, too, entirely owing to her carelessness. Never put the brake on down that infernal hill, lost all control over me, and here I am, a wreck, Sir! Why, I had to be driven home, by a grinning groom, in a beastly dog-cart! Pleasant that!

BAYARD. But she--Miss Diana--was she hurt? Not--not _seriously_, eh?

The BICYCLE. Oh, of course you don't care what becomes of _me_ so long as----_She's_ all right enough--fell in a ditch, luckily for her, _I_ came down on a heap of stones. It'll be weeks before I'm out of the repairer's hands.

BAYARD (_to himself_). I _oughtn't_ to be glad; but I am--I _am_! She's safe, and--and she'll come back to me after this! (_To the Bicycle._) Wasn't she sorry for you?

The BICYCLE. Not she! These women have no feeling in them. Why, what do you suppose she said when they told me it would take weeks to tinker me up?

BAYARD (_to himself--with joy_). I think I can guess! (_To the Bicycle._) What _did_ she say?

The BICYCLE (_rattling with indignation_). Why, all _she_ said was: "How tiresome! I wonder if I can hire a decent bike here without having to send to town for one." There's grat.i.tude for you! But _you_ can't enter into my feelings about it.

BAYARD. Pardon me--I fancy I can. And, after all, your day will come, when the Vet has set you up again. _Mine's_ over for ever. (_To himself._) Oh, why, _why_ wasn't I born a bicycle!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

A DOLL'S DIARY.

_January 1._--Just had a brilliant idea--_quite_ original. I don't believe even any human person ever _thought_ of such a thing, but then,--besides being extremely beautiful and expensive, with refined wax features and golden hair--I am a very clever doll indeed. Frivolous, no doubt; heartless, so they tell me--but the very reverse of a _fool_. I flatter myself that if _anybody_ understands the nature of toys, especially _male_ toys--but I am forgetting my idea--which is this. I am going this year to write down--the little girl I belong to has no idea I can write, but I _can_--and better than _she_ does, too!--to write down every event of importance that happens, _with the dates_. There! I fancy _that_ is original enough. It will be a valuable dollian doc.u.ment when it is done, and _most_ interesting to look back upon. Now I must wait for something to happen.

_January 6._--Went to Small Dance given by the Only Other Wax Doll (a dreadful old frump!) on the Nursery Hearthrug. Room rather nicely illuminated by coloured fire from grate, and a pyramid nightlight, but floor poor. Didn't think much of the music--a fur monkey at the Digitorium, and a woolly lamb who brought his own bellows, make _rather_ a feeble orchestra. Still, on the whole, enjoyed myself. Much admired.

Several young Ninepins, who are considered stuck-up, and keep a good deal to their own set, begged to be introduced. Sat out one dance with a Dice-box, who rattled away most amusingly. I understand he is quite an authority on games, and anything that falls from his mouth is received with respect. He is a great sporting character, too, and arranges all the meetings on the Nursery Race-course, besides being much interested in Backgammon. I _do_ like a Toy to have _manly_ tastes!

The Captain of a Wooden Marching Regiment quartered in the neighbourhood was there in full uniform, but not dancing. Told me they _didn't_ in his regiment. As his legs are made in one piece and glued on to a yellow stand, inclined to think this was not mere military swagger. He seemed considerably struck with me. Made an impression, too, on a rather elderly India-rubber Ball. Snubbed him, as one of the Ninepins told me he was considered "a bit of a bounder."

Some of the Composition Dolls, I could see, were perfectly _stiff_ with spite and envy. Spent a very pleasant evening, not getting back to my drawer till daylight. Too tired to write more.

_Mem._--Not to sit out behind the coal-scuttle another time!

_February 14._--Amount of attention I receive really quite embarra.s.sing.

The Ninepins are too _absurdly_ devoted. One of them (the nicest of all) told me to-day he had never been so completely bowled over in his whole existence! I manage to play them off against each other, however. The India-rubber Ball, too, is at my feet--and, naturally, I spurn him, but he is so short-winded that nothing will induce him to rise. Though naturally of an elastic temperament, he has been a good deal cast down of late. I smile on him occasionally--just to keep the Ball rolling; but it is becoming a frightful bore.

_March._--Have been presented with a charming pony-carriage, with two piebald ponies that go by clock work. I wish, though, I was not expected to share it with a _live kitten_! The kitten has no idea of repose, and spoils the effect of the turn-out. Try not to seem aware of it--even when it claws my frock. Rather interested in a young Skipjack, whom I see occasionally; he is quite good-looking, in a common sort of way. I talk to him now and then--it is something to do; and he is a new type, so different from the Ninepins!

_April 1._--Have just heard the Skipjack is engaged to a plaster Dairy-maid. A little annoyed, because he really seemed----Have been to see his _fiancee_, a common-place creature, with red cheeks, and a thick waist. Congratulate the Skipjack, with just a _hint_ that he might have looked higher. Afraid that he misunderstood me, for he absolutely jumped.

_April 7._--The Skipjack tells me he has _broken off his engagement_; he seems to think I shall guess the reason--but I don't, of _course_. Then he actually has the impertinence to (I can scarcely pen the words for indignation) to _propose_--to Me! I inform him, in the most _unmistakable_ terms, that he has presumed on my good-nature, and that there are social barriers between us, which no Skipjack can ever surmount. He leaves me abruptly, after declaring that I have broken the spring of his existence.

_April 8._--Much shocked and annoyed. The Skipjack found quite stiff and colourless this morning, in the water-jug! Must have jumped in last night. So _very_ rash and silly of him! Am sure I gave him no encouragement--or _next_ to none. Hear that the Dairy-maid has gone off her head. Of course it will be put down to _grief_; but we all know how easily plaster heads get cracked. Feel really distressed about it all, for the blame is sure to fall on _me_. Those Composition Dolls will make a fine scandal out of it!

_May._--The Ninepins are getting very difficult to manage; have to put them down as delicately as possible; but I am afraid, poor fellows, they are dreadfully upset. The Wooden Captain has challenged the Dice-box to a duel--I fear, on _my_ account. However, as the officer's sword will not unglue, I _hope_ nothing will come of it. All this _most_ worrying, though, and gives me little _real_ satisfaction. I find myself sighing for more _difficult_ conquests.

_June._--Went to afternoon tea with the biggest Dutch Doll. Rather a come-down, but now that there is this coolness between the Composition set and myself, I must go _somewhere_. I feel _so_ bored at times! Can see the ridiculous Dutch thing is trying to _out-dress_ me! She had a frock on that _must_ have cost at _least_ fifty beads, and I don't believe it will _ever_ be paid for! Only made her look the bigger _guy,_ though! Tea-party a stupid affair. Make-believe tea in pewter cups. Met the latest arrival, a really nice-looking Gentleman Doll, introduced as "Mr. Joseph." Very innocent face, without any moustache, and the sweetest blue eyes (except mine) I think I _ever_ saw! Seemed rather shy, but pleasant. Asked him to call.

_June 18._--Mr. Joseph has not called _yet_. Very strange! Suspect those horrid Composition Dolls have been setting him against me. Met him by the back-board and scolded him. He seemed confused. By a little management, I got it all out of him. I was right. He _has_ been told about the Skipjack. He has strict principles, and gave me to understand that he would prefer to decline my acquaintance--which was _like his impudence_! This is exciting, though. I intend to overcome these scruples; I mean him to be madly in love with me--then I shall scornfully reject him, which will serve him just _right_!

_July._--My tactics have succeeded--_at last_! To-day Joseph called, _ostensibly_ to beg me to go and see the unhappy Ball, who, it seems, is terribly collapsed, reduced to a _mere bowl_, and so exhausted that he cannot hold out much longer. However, in the course of the interview, I soon made him oblivious of the Ball. He fell at my feet. "Beautiful Gloriana," he cried, "with all your many and glaring faults, I love you!" Then I carried out the _rest_ of my programme--it was a painful scene, and I will only record that when he left me, he was completely _un-dolled_! I feel almost sorry for him--he had rather a nice face!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I see _him_ standing, on the very brink of the precipice."]

_July 4._--I don't seem able to settle to anything. After all, I think I will go and see the poor Ball. It would comfort him, and I might see _him_ there. I will order the pony-carriage.