George said: "I should not show temper over the matter, if I were you.
There will come a day, perhaps not far distant, when that bicycle, with a
couple of mountains between it and the nearest repairing shop, will, in
spite of your chronic desire for rest, _have_ to be overhauled. Then you
will clamour for people to tell you where you put the oil-can, and what
you have done with the screw-hammer. Then, while you exert yourself
holding the thing steady against a tree, you will suggest that somebody
else should clean the chain and pump the back wheel."

I felt there was justice in George's rebuke--also a certain amount of
prophetic wisdom. I said:

"Forgive me if I seemed unresponsive. The truth is, Harris was round
here this morning--"

George said: "Say no more; I understand. Besides, what I came to talk to
you about was another matter. Look at that."

He handed me a small book bound in red cloth. It was a guide to English
conversation for the use of German travellers. It commenced "On a Steam-
boat," and terminated "At the Doctor's"; its longest chapter being
devoted to conversation in a railway carriage, among, apparently, a
compartment load of quarrelsome and ill-mannered lunatics: "Can you not
get further away from me, sir?"--"It is impossible, madam; my neighbour,
here, is very stout"--"Shall we not endeavour to arrange our
legs?"--"Please have the goodness to keep your elbows down"--"Pray do not
inconvenience yourself, madam, if my shoulder is of any accommodation to
you," whether intended to be said sarcastically or not, there was nothing
to indicate--"I really must request you to move a little, madam, I can
hardly breathe," the author's idea being, presumably, that by this time