"I guess I was in great luck," said Jimmieboy. "I might have had a much harder time than I did."
"I should say so," said the bicycle. "A scratch and loss of appetite, when you might just as easily have had your whole personal appearance changed, is getting off very cheap. But, I say, why didn't you turn aside instead of trying to ride over that lawn mower? Didn't you know you'd get yourself into trouble?"
"Of course I didn't," said Jimmieboy. "You don't suppose I wanted to commit soozlecide, do you? I heard papa talking to mamma about the rheumatic tires on his bicycle, and he said they were great inventions because they made the wheel boy—boy—well, boy something, I don't remember what."
"Boyant?" asked the little bicycle, scratching its cyclometer with its pedal.
"Yes—that was it," said Jimmieboy. "He said the rheumatic tires made the thing boyant, and I asked him what that meant. He said boyant was a word meaning light and airy—like a boy, you know, and that boyancy in a bicycle meant that it could jump over almost anything."
"That is so," said Bikey. "That's what they have those tires for, but they can't jump over a lawn mower—unless"——Here Bikey paused and glanced anxiously around. It was evident that he had some great secret in his mind.
"Unless what?" asked Jimmieboy, his curiosity at once aroused.
"Unless a patent idea of mine, which you and I could try if you wanted to, is good."
Bikey's voice sank into a whisper.