Mr. Carr relates the following:—
An enthusiastic friend of the designer of a new motor tricycle eagerly sought an opportunity of personally testing the wonderful machine, which was started and stopped by raising and lowering a back wheel. Off she bounded with a scuffle, and flew round the track. All went well until the E.F. thought he had had enough, when he was seen to be busily engaged with the lever.
As he passed his friends he shouted, ' The lever won't work! ' Roars of laughter rent the air. There was nothing for it but to sit it out till the supply tank was exhausted; and this kept our friend fully occupied for the space of an hour and a half. A good non-stop record, no doubt, but apparently more enjoyed by the spectators than by the performer. Report hath it that he had to be assisted home.
Here is a confession by Mr. Sturmey:—
The engine sounded as if pulling all right, but there was manifestly something wrong, so on went the overalls followed by a dive under the car. Suddenly one of the occupants of the car remarked, 'Why, you've got your brake on!' and so I had.
My own most vivid experiences of breakdown, which strongly illustrate the truth that the blame does not often lie with the vehicle but rather with those who turn it out, or who drive it, must be told at the expense of more than one important bfficial of the Automobile Club. The scene on both occasions is the London-Uxbridge road, the driver on both occasions the secretary of the club, assisted on one occasion by the honorary secretary as honorary mechanician. Let me take the last first. Starting hopefully from Whitehall Court we careered along until, just opposite the Wellington statue, the car said 'No further.' Whether it was 'I won't ' or 'I can't' we did not know. The imperturbable Johnson said nothing, but with great presence of mind turned round and gravitated to the front of the Wellington Club. All the secretarial skill addressed itself to trace the mischief. Suddenly, the sad word of a penitent
