Sir,

display_0957d51541

• • Sir,

I read with interest the columns entitled ” Enthusiastus Extinctus ” in the February issue, and it was with much regret that I had to make myself realise the truth in every line.

Perhaps men are much too gentlemanly; the days when “knights were bold,” etc., and they drank beer before breakfast, are long since gone, A woman’s position in this world was perhaps ably defined (?) by a writer in the 15th century when he said : “Woman should be an angel in the street, a saint in the church, beautiful in the window, honest in the house, and a demon . . .” somewhere else.

When I first met the person who was to escort me down the aisle she was a ” Chrysler-type ” of enthusiast, but after much “shop talk” and hard convincing, she became the regular ballast on the bracket of my racing 350-c.c. motor-cycle. Many a stocking was ruined with ” Castro! R” from the racer, or mud from my emu p. tyred, scantily mudguarded trials iron. This sound education more than proved its worth and developed a lover of all stark, unclothed, and uncomfortable motor ears, which may prove a mill-stone around my own neck in years to come when, getting a little grey and staid, I feel the folly of it all—a woman never gets old.

J. A. Masters’s announcement re the Land’s End has gladdened her heart, as we may then introduce our not yet twoyear-old to my Magnette and her first trial.

Blow, trumpet—blow ! I am, Yours,

t-ct: Ett PEA K Stevenage.