But this is the result of their own folly.

This happens because they will persist in riding a machine of an inferior make.

Were they riding a "Putney Popular" or "Battersea Bounder," such as the sensible young man in the centre of the poster rides, then all this unnecessary labour would be saved to them.
Then all required of them would be, as in gratitude bound, to look happy; perhaps, occasionally to back-pedal a little when the machine in its youthful buoyancy loses its head for a moment and dashes on too swiftly.
You tired young men, sitting dejectedly on milestones, too spent to heed the steady rain that soaks you through; you weary maidens, with the straight, damp hair, anxious about the time, longing to swear, not knowing how; you stout bald men, vanishing visibly as you pant and grunt along the endless road; you purple, dejected matrons, plying with pain the slow unwilling wheel; why did you not see to it that you bought a "Britain's Best" or a "Camberwell Eureka"?
Why are these bicycles of inferior make so prevalent throughout the land Or is it with bicycling as with all other things: does Life at no point realise the Poster?
The one thing in Germany that never fails to charm and fascinate me is the German dog.

In England one grows tired of the old breeds, one knows them all so well: the mastiff, the plum-pudding dog, the terrier (black, white or rough-haired, as the case may be, but always quarrelsome), the collie, the bulldog; never anything new.

Now in Germany you get variety.
You come across dogs the like of which you have never seen before: that until you hear them bark you do not know are dogs.