A rider—usually not one of the very experienced class and seldom one of mechanical study—has observed the axle of one make, the hub of another, the saddle fastening of another, and so on; more or less justly, he approves, or fancies, these devices, and it seems to him that if he could only combine them in one bicycle he would indeed have the “topnotcher” of the year. The fallible side in his human nature is also flattered by thinking that to be able to say that his mount was “built to order” suggests that his superior discernment saw beyond what the regular market offered and was not satisfied without something better than others have, and something distinctive and “special.” Accordingly he applies to the small assembler who announces himself as builder of specially designed wheels, and this assembler, wise enough to cater to a “want” which he can turn to account, puts together the parts desired, or with accepted modifications suggested by himself, and the rider gets his “to order” mount, at a price proportioned to its specialty.

A DREAM MOTOR.

While he thinks himself fortunate and happy, let it be admitted that he is and that nobody else has a right to disturb his peace. And yet it does not necessarily follow that a combination of good things makes a good total. For he has no guaranty, although he may have written stipulation, for the real guaranty is the maker’s reputation, and in that sense he has no maker. The second consideration is that if the assembler who has made up his wheel dies or goes out of business he probably has no clue to the source from which the particular parts came and is thus liable to be put to expense and trouble if replacing any becomes necessary; it is always a good rule to deal, whenever possible, with parties who are likely to last and to be easily found should occasion arise to call on them. A nameless bicycle—that is, one without definite and responsible origin, for the mere nameplate is only a bit of stamped metal or a transfer, and is nothing in itself—may run well for a time, but is liable to plague its owner before he is through with it. The third consideration is that, even if purchased parts are of good quality (and there is always a temptation to increase the present profit by using the lowest priced), the assembler, with his few tools and comparatively small experience, cannot possibly do the work as well as the large maker, with his ample facilities. The one man, who perhaps brazes and files up and puts frames together for fastening, and makes up wheels, and performs other operations, may get a diversified practical training in mechanics for himself, but the work cannot have the certainty and accuracy obtainable, according to all rules of production, by subdivision of labor. Nor is this all. The frame shape and its angles are originally “set out” in the draughting shop with mathematical precision, and the large maker puts the parts together by means of “jigs,” all this involving a heavy outlay, but securing exactness. The “to order” workman conforms to the angles called for as well as he can; if the connections on band are not quite right, he files them or bends them, getting as nearly accurate line as he can by his eye and the rule of thumb. His work being on individual cases, it is impossible for him to have jigs and gauges for each, and quite out of his power to attain the correctness obtained by machine work and making in quantities. Hence, even if the material used is of the very highest quality, it is reasonably inferable that the “to order” bicycle, supposed by its owner to be better than regular market stock, is really somewhat inferior.

TO COAX THE WIND.

“OLD WHEELS CUT DOWN.”

Market prices, as everybody knows, are greatly below those of the last two years, and this favors buying new mounts. On the other hand, and for that very reason, such allowances as used to be made for wheels a year or more old are now impossible. Apparently one consideration might fairly offset the other, yet there are signs thus far that a larger proportion of riders than heretofore will furbish up their present mounts for another season. But as the most decided change for 1898 is shortening of head, lowering of frame, and increased drop of the hanger, this change being so marked that a 25 or 26 inch frame is now rated as quite antiquated and unfashionable, there is a tendency to make over present mounts into the more stylish cut. How far this is likely to go we cannot foresee, but as some cases of cutting down frames and advertisements of “old wheels cut down” have already come under our observation, we must condemn it in the most emphatic terms. The “to order” shop is very likely to count this change an opportunity and to stimulate the practice by offering its services; but we must warn riders that meddling with bicycle frames involves hazards. When the bicycle hater declares that to mount one of those things is to take one’s life in one’s hands, he states what is literally true, of course. The possibilities are always against us. If we step out of doors, we take chances; if we go to bed for safety, people have died in bed. Reasonable care having been used, we must trust the chances, which always expose to mishap and always give the weight of probability to the side of immunity. The most dangerous break on a bicycle is a break of frame—for example, while fracture of one side of the front fork will probably permit escape, a complete snap of fork crown or stem will almost certainly cause the rider to dive for the ground. Now, tubing has been made from the solid ingot by a series of processes and it is almost surprising that after the time the metal has survived all this torture and has been shaped and fixed into a bicycle frame, having endured the final heat of brazing, there is any “life” left in it. When the cutting down process is undertaken, there are two bad consequences probable: one is that the operation will fail to get accurate alignment, in which case the driving will be harder and the durability of wearing parts less than before; the other is that the further heating will “burn” the metal (literally) and the chances of fracture will be much increased. The tube may also be softened in one place, as well as burned in another. The original finish cannot be well restored, and the operation of smoothing up, especially for nickeling, involves further hazard to the tube. Advice as to making over frames is covered in one word—don’t do it, and don’t trust yourself, knowingly, on one which has been thus treated.