Don't leave your bicycle in the lower hallway of your flat-house for the other tenants to fall over in the dark.
Don't believe the farmer boy who says that it is "two miles to the next town." It may be two, four, six or twelve.
Don't be more than an hour passing a given point, although wheeling on a dusty road is honestly conducive to thirst.
Don't smile at the figure others cut astride their wheels, as it is not given you to see yourself as others see you.
Don't coast down a strange hill with a curve at its bottom. There is no telling what you will meet when it is too late.
Don't ride ten miles at a scorching pace, then drink cold water and lie around on the grass, unless you are tired of life.
Don't try to carry your bike downstairs under your arm. Put it on your shoulder, or you will come to distress.
Don't laugh the watchful copper to scorn because your lamp is burning brightly. He can afford to wait his time to laugh.
Don't dress immodestly or in the costume of a track sprinter. Sweaters worn like a Chinaman's blouse are almost indecent.
Don't forget that the modern law of the road requires you to turn out to the right in passing another bicycle or other vehicle.