The laugh was against her and I was glad of it, for I didn't consider
it either kind or polite to call us "saucy little thieves."
We were amused one morning when, flying over a piece of pretty country,
we saw a lady moving rapidly along on the red sandy path below. She
seemed to be neither exactly riding nor walking, as she was not on foot
nor had she a horse. On closer inspection it was seen that she was
propelling a strange-looking vehicle. Two of her carriage wheels were
gone, and between the remaining two the lady was perched. At sight of
it I was immediately reminded of the queer thing that Johnny Morris
rode which the admiral had described to us and called a "wheel." I
felt sure that this was the same kind of a machine. The lady looked
neither to the right nor to the left, but her glance was fixed intently
on the road before her.
Farther along another lady leaned against the fence awaiting her
approach. As she bowled along the friend asked enthusiastically: "Is
it not splendid?"
The rider called back to her: "It is grand! It is almost as if I were
flying. I know now how a bird feels."
Think of comparing the sensation produced by moving that heavy iron
machine, with the rider but three feet from the ground, to the
exhilaration felt by a bird spurning the earth and soaring on delicate
wing through the fields of heaven! It was truly laughable!
Our amusement was cut short, however, when we noticed that the lady's
hat was decorated with a dead dove.
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