‘A middle-aged man dashed down Poole High Street on an unsually tall penny farthing cycle on Saturday morning. Calmly smoking a pipe, he rode quickly and skilfully through the crowded street as though it were his daily custom.
‘He did not wear fancy costume, he was not visibly advertising anything; he may have been qualifying for a wager; no one knew. Shoppers and other passers-by stood aghast, motorists almost lost control of their steering; what few horses there were about tossed their heads and showed the whites of their eyes. But the penny farthing rode swiftly , smoothly and skilfully on. Who was he? What was his idea?’