The Bold Bad Bicycle. 229

him to go home. Every bicycle, like every dog,
must have his day, and he felt that he had had
his; but now, he longed to tell them all at home
about his travels. ‘“I must wait till darkness

 

comes,” he said, ‘so that I may get into the shop
without being seen.’’ So when night came, back
he crept, meeting scarcely anyone on the way.
When he reached the shop, he found, alas, that it
was closed for the night. This possibility he had
quite forgotten. Creeping up in the doorway, he