So I got up, adjusted my crutches and went down to the road; where I found my bicycle (I didn’t know I had one) in the same place must have left it. Which enables me to remark that, crippled though I was, I was no mean cyclist, at that period. This is how I went about it. I fastened my crutches to the cross bar, one on either side, I propped the foot of my stiff leg (I forgot which, now they’re both stiff) on the projecting front axle, and I pedalled with the other. It was a chainless bicycle, with a free wheel, if such a bicycle exists. Dear bicycle, I shall not call you bike, you were green, like so many of your generation.