CHAPTER III.
Harris's one fault--Harris and the Angel--A patent bicycle lamp--The ideal saddle--The "Overhauler"-- His eagle eye--His method--His cheery confidence--His simple and inexpensive tastes--His appearance--How to get rid of him--George as prophet--The gentle art of making oneself disagreeable in a foreign tongue--George as a student of human nature--He proposes an experiment--His Prudence--Harris's support secured, upon conditions.
On Monday afternoon Harris came round; he had a cycling paper in his hand.
I said: "If you take my advice, you will leave it alone." Harris said: "Leave what alone ?" I said: "That brand-new, patent, revolution in cycling, record-breaking, Tomfoolishness, whatever it may be, the advertisement of which you have there in your hand." He said: "Well, I don't know; there will be some steep hills for us to negotiate; I guess we shall want a good brake." I said: "We shall want a brake, I agree; what we shall not want is a mechanical surprise that we don't understand, and that never acts when it is wanted." "This thing," he said, "acts automatically." "You needn't tell me," I said.

"I know exactly what it will do, by instinct.

Going uphill it will jamb the wheel so effectively that we shall have to carry the machine bodily.

The air at the top of the hill will do it good, and it will suddenly come right again.

Going downhill it will start reflecting what a nuisance it has been.