STUBBS (_enters, carrying a dilapidated machine with crumpled handles, a twisted saddle, and a front wheel distorted into an irregular pentagon_). Well, I 'ope as 'ow this'll sarve as a lesson to 'er, I dew; a marcy she ain't broke her blessed little neck! (_To the Bicycle._) No need to be hover and above purtickler 'bout scratchin' your enamel _now_, any'ow! (_He pitches it into a corner, and goes._) BAYARD (_after reconnoitring_). You don't mean to say it's _you_! The BICYCLE. Me? of course it's me! A nice mess I'm in, too, entirely owing to her carelessness. Never put the brake on down that infernal hill, lost all control over me, and here I am, a wreck, Sir! Why, I had to be driven home, by a grinning groom, in a beastly dog-cart! Pleasant that! BAYARD. But she--Miss Diana--was she hurt? Not--not _seriously_, eh? The BICYCLE. Oh, of course you don't care what becomes of _me_ so long as----_She's_ all right enough--fell in a ditch, luckily for her, _I_ came down on a heap of stones. It'll be weeks before I'm out of the repairer's hands. BAYARD (_to himself_). I _oughtn't_ to be glad; but I am--I _am_! She's safe, and--and she'll come back to me after this! (_To the Bicycle._) Wasn't she sorry for you? The BICYCLE. Not she! These women have no feeling in them. Why, what do you suppose she said when they told me it would take weeks to tinker me up? BAYARD (_to himself--with joy_). I think I can guess! (_To the Bicycle._) What _did_ she say? The BICYCLE (_rattling with indignation_). Why, all _she_ said was: "How tiresome! I wonder if I can hire a decent bike here without having to send to town for one." There's gratitude for you! But _you_ can't enter into my feelings about it. BAYARD. Pardon me--I fancy I can. And, after all, your day will come, when the Vet has set you up again. _Mine's_ over for ever. (_To himself._) Oh, why, _why_ wasn't I born a bicycle! [Illustration] A DOLL'S DIARY. _January 1._--Just had a brilliant idea--_quite_ original. I don't believe even any human person ever _thought_ of such a thing, but then,--besides being extremely beautiful and expensive, with refined wax features and golden hair--I am a very clever doll indeed. Frivolous, no doubt; heartless, so they tell me--but the very reverse of a _fool_. I flatter myself that if _anybody_ understands the nature of toys, especially _male_ toys--but I am forgetting my idea--which is this. I am going this year to write down--the little girl I belong to has no idea I can write, but I _can_--and better than _she_ does, too!--to write down every event of importance that happens, _with the dates_. There! I fancy _that_ is original enough. It will be a valuable dollian document when it is done, and _most_ interesting to look back upon. Now I must wait for something to happen.