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When Tommy indulges in the use of the French language he abbreviates it as much as possible. One hot summer's day driving from Boulogne to Fort Mahon, half way down a steep hill we came upon two Tommies endeavouring to extract a motor cycle and a side-car from a somewhat difficult position. They had side-slipped and run into a small tree.
Up clambered the Tommies, followed by their unwelcome friend, who managed to sit on the only unbroken portion of the side-car. This was too much for Messrs. Atkins' equanimity. Limp with laughter, we watched them pass from sight amidst a chorus of "Ong!
The Roman causeway ran into the macadam high road from Harthborough to Timsdale-Horton almost on the level, with still a slight fall towards Harthborough, the smoke of whose chimneys was already visible. Half a mile ahead of them was a knot of men, gathered about what might have been a wheelbarrow. A quarter of a mile further, "Three men," said Dick. "Motor-cycle and side-car," said Amaryllis.
Three visitors had dropped in; they had motored down from London piled up on a motor-cycle and a side-car; a brother and two sisters they seemed to be, and they had apparently reduced hilariousness to a principle. The rumours of coming hockey that had been floating on the outskirts of Mr.
"Have courage, boys; 't won't be long first; this one 'll be selling them for me on the Flying Aigle, don't you forget it!" And there was a great ringing of the engine-bell a moment after, when the train started. It was many and many a long month after this that an old man and a young woman and a baby were journeying in a side-car along one of the smooth Irish roads into County Kerry.
Next Saturday he asked me to bring out The Bun in his absence, which I naturally assumed would be connected with the little maroon side-car. I was wrong. On the following Monday I glanced at The Cake at breakfast-time to make sure, as usual, of her inferiority to my beloved but unremunerative Bun.
That was all Huckley. I'm doing a "Mobiquity" on Huckley next week. Ollyett wrote the stuff with a fervour and a delicacy which I always ascribed to the side-car. His account of Epping Forest, for instance, was simply young love with its soul at its lips. But his Huckley 'Mobiquity' would have sickened a soap-boiler.
We were obliged to hire a side-car by the day, as two of our residences were over a mile apart; and the driver of that vehicle was the only person, I think, who had any suspicion of our sanity.
Francis and the work at the cabin and Pennington, with his kind, plump, rueful face, and even the O'Maras and Logan, seemed suddenly unreal and of little account. The only thing that really mattered was a chance to go somewhere and lie down and sleep. Perhaps she could lean back a little in the side-car as he took her over.
"I can't this first trip; the side-car will be full of junk that I have to get over there. But I would like to take you on my second trip, about noon to-day. Or it may be later when I get back it's quite a distance." "That will be all right," said Marjorie sedately. "I'd like to rest a little this morning, anyway."
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