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y 


■3I3SS 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES 
ON  A  BICYCLE 


Br  KARL  KRON 

AVTHoa  OF  "FOUB  Yb*iis  at  Yalb,   bv  a  Gkaduatb  of  H^" 


PUBLISHED   BY   KARL   KRON 

THE  UNIVERSITY  BUILDING,  WASHINGTON  SQl 
NEW   YORK 
1887 


TO  THB 


9 


MENIORY 


OK 


iQS  iSulUBotg 


(thb  vbry  best  doc  wuosb  prssbncb  bvbr  blbssbo  this  planbt) 


THESE  RECORDS  OF  TRAVELS 


WHICH    WOULD    HAVE    BROKBN    HIS    HBART 


MAD    UB    EVER    LIVED    TO 


READ    ABOUT 


THEM 


ARE  LOVINGLY  INSCRIBED 


TtWMld4,  VMS. 


MntifMliind.  \U6-T, 

By  lh«  SrftiiiaviBi.*  Paiirriiia  Oohvawt, 

Bpcta(fl«U,  Umb. 


r 


1 


PREKACB. 


volume. 


Assumptions  for  a  special 
class  of  travelers. 


This  is  a  book  of  American  roads,  for  men  who  travel  on  the  bicyde.  Its 
ideal  is  that  of  a  gazetteer,  a  dictionary,  a  cyclopaedia,  a  statistical  guide,  a 
thesaurus  of  facts.  The  elaborateness  of  its  indexing  shows  that  it  is  debigaed 
less  for  reading  than  for  reference, — ^less  for  amusement  than  for  instruction, — ^and  debars  any  one 
from  objecting  to  the  multiplicity  of  its  details.  No  need  exists  for  a  weary  wading  through  the 
mass  of  these  by  any  seeker  for  special  knowledge.  The  information  which  he  wants  can  be 
found  at  once,  if  contained  in  the  book  at  all ;  and  the  pages  which  do  not  interest  him  can  be 

left  severely  alone. 

In  reporting  my  own  travels,  I  have  assumed  that  the  reader 
(as  a  bicycler  who  may  plan  to  ride  along  the  same  routes)  desires 
to  know  just  what  I  was  most  desirous  of  having  advance  knowl- 
edge of,  in  every  case ;  and  I  have  tried  to  tell  just  those  things,  in  the  simplest  language  and 
the  most  compact  form.  I  have  accounted  no  fact  too  trivial  for  record,  if  it  could  conceiv- 
ably help  or  interest  wheelmen  when  touring  in  the  locality  to  which  it  relates ;  and  I  insist  that 
no  critic,  save  one  whose  road-experience  makes  him  more  competent  than  I  am  to  predict  what 
'  such  tourists  want  to  know,  has  any  right  to  censure  me  on  this  account,  as  *'  lacking  a  sense  of 

I  penpective."    My  power  to  please  these  particular  people,  by  offering  them  these  microscopic 

I  details,  can  be  proved  by  experiment  only ;  but  I  object  in  advance  to  having^ny  one  meanwhile 

misrepresent  me  as  endeavoring  to  please  people  in  general.    **  The  general  reader  "  may  justly 
I  demand  of  the  critic  that  he  give  warning  against  a   writer-of-travels,  as  well  as  against  a  novel- 

ist or  verse-maker,  who  is  so  precise  and  exhaustive  as  to  be  tedious ;  but  a  chronicler  who 
avowedly  seeks  to  be  precise  and  exhaustive,  in  compiling  a  special  sort  of  gazetteer, — and  who 
disclaims  any  desire  of  restricting  its  scope  to  points  which  are  salient  and  notably  significant 
and  imiversally  interesting, — ^may  as  justly  demand  of  the  critic  that  he  do  not  condemn  the 
work  *'  because  unsuited  to  the  general  reader." 


Fair  loarningsfor  **  the 
general  reader^* 


*i 


As  regards  the  latter  all-powerful  personage,  I  recognize  that 
his  money  is  as  good  as  anybody's  ";  and  I  intend,  incidentally, 
to  sell  him  a  good  many  copies  of  the  book ;  but  I  am  bound  that 
be  shall  buy  it  with  his  eyes  open,  if  he  buys  it  at  all,  and  shall  have  no  pretext  for  pretending  that 
I  catered  to  his  taste  in  preparing  it,  or  relied  upon  his  patronage  in  making  it  a  success.  I  aim, 
rather,  to  pique  his  curiosity  by  proving  that  profit  may  be  gained,  in  defiance  of  him,  from  the 
support  of  a  world  of  readers  whose  existence  he  never  dreamed  of ;  and  I  expect  that,  when- 
ever his  curiosity  forces  him  to  pay  me  tribute,  in  order  to  study  the  manners  and  customs  of 
those  readers  who  inhabit  this  new  "  world  on  wheels,"  he  will  be  civil  enough  to  remember 
the  motive  which  induced  his  expenditure,  and  to  refrain  from  reviling  me  as  having  baited  him 
in  by  false  pretences,  or  failed  to  give  htm  his  money's  worth.  As  regards  "  the  general 
reader,"  then,  I  say:  "Caveat  emptor  I  Having  paid  up,  let  him  shut  up!  If  I  welcome 
him  to  my  show,  it  is  avowedly  for  no  other  reason  than  that  his  coin  may  help  fill  the  yawning 
chasm  at  my  banker's.  I  have  not  planned  the  performance  to  please  him,  nor  have  I  varied  my 
ideal  of  it  one  iota  to  avoid  the  danger  of  his  derision.  I  shall  be  glad,  incidentally,  to  win  his 
good-will ;  but,  if  his  ill-will  be  aroused  instead,  I  protest  against  his  proclaiming  it  in  such^ 
as  to  obscure  this  truth:  that  what  I  chiefly  aim  to  win  is  the  good-will  of  the  3c 
who  have  subscribed  to  my  scheme  in  advance,  and  of  the  300,000  wheelmen  wl 
saribers  represent." 

Attempts  at  verbal 


attractiveness. 


*'  Well-written  and  readable  beyond  the  common  *' 
which  the  reviewer  of  the  Times  passed  upon  my  1 


it  first  appeared,  in  a  magazine,  four  years 


deavored  to  make  any  of  my  regular  touring  reports  "  readable/'  to 


royoMg 

9 


Amusement  and  instruction 
for  non-cyclers. 


iv  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  one  caQed  "  StraigfaUway  for  Forty  Days.»»  This,  as  a  description  of  the  first  time  in  the 
earth's  history  when  its  surface  was  marked  for  as  much  as  1400  miles  by  the  continuous  trail 
of  a  bicyde,  seemed  worthy  of  exceptional  treatment,  by  reason  of  the  chance  it  gave  for  im- 
pressing the  imagination  of  the  unconverted  with  the  peculiar  charm,  and  the  magnificent  possi- 
bilities,  of  "wheeling  large."  I  do  not  assert  that  my  actual  description  possesses  any  such 
power,— but  simply  that,  in  tiiis  one  case,  I  did  endeavor  to  formulate  my  enthusiasm.  The 
305th  page,  in  tiiis  description,  has  literary  force  enough  to  bring  back  clearly,  before  my  own 
mind,  the  strangest  scene  in  my  long  tour ;  and  so,  witiiout  asserting  that  other  readers  should 
accord  it  the  graphic  quality,  I  mention  it  as  the  only  page  on  which  I  have  in  fact  attempted  to 
do  any  verbal  scene-painting. 

As  regards  my  two  extraneous  chapters  (pp.  407-472), 
"  the  general  reader  "  is  quite  as  likely  as  the  cycling  reader 
to  be  amused  by  what  I  have  said  there  concerning  the  dear 
dog  Uiat  I  loved  and  Uie  queer  house  Uiat  I  Uvc  in ;  while,  as  regards  my  statistics  of  roads,  they 
necessarily  have  value  to  U)ousands  of  people  who  know  nothing  of  the  joys  of  cycling.  Each 
year  finds  a  larger  number  of  Americans  seeking  recreation  by  pedestrian  and  equestrian  tours, 
and  by  carriage-drives  across  long  stretches  of  country ;  while  even  the  "  horsey  "  intellects  of 
hackmen  and  teamsters  (and  Uieir  fashionable  imiutors  who  laboriously  exhibit  themselves  00 
"tally-ho coaches")  may  have  power  to  recognize  some  sUtements  in  dais  book  as  worth  in. 
corporating  into  theur  stock  of  suble  knowledge.  Indeed,  as  was  said  in  the  preface  of 
"  Roughing  It,"  by  Mark  Twain,  "  information  appear*  to  stew  out  of  me  naturally,  like  the 
precious  oltar  of  roses  out  of  the  otter."  Were  cycling  destined  to  immediate  disappearance,  this 
volume  (the  only  existing  one  of  its  kmd)  would  none  the  less  deserve  a  place  in  every  American 
reference-library,  as  a  veritable  colossus  of  roads. 

As  regards  my  style  of  expression,  though  I  may  not  have  mastered 
the  difficult  trick  of  calling  a  spade  a  spade,  I  have  at  least  used  every 
efEort  to  master  it,  from  the  day  in  i860  when  I  first  took  up  the  pen  ; 
and  I  have  striven  to  win  nothing  else  of  the  literary  art.  The  putting  of  ideas  into  written  fonn 
has  ever  been  to  me  a  painful  process,  which  I  have  sought  to  shorten  as  much  as  possible.  I 
have  always  kept  quiet  unless  I  had  something  to  say;  and,  though  this  rule  may  not  always  have 
made  my  actual  words  seem  to  other  people  worth  the  saying,  it  has  certainly  prevented  me  from 
being  classed  with  "  the  mob  of  gentlemen  who  write  with  ease."  Chatterers,  for  the  mere 
pleasure  of  listening  to  the  noises  of  their  own  months,  may  perform  an  acceptable  function  in 
amusing  folks  who  are  too  stupid  even  to  chatter ;  but  that  function  is  not  mine.  I  have  about 
as  little  liking  for  "  literary  men  "  as  has  the  elder  Cameron  of  Pennsylvania,  and  am  often 
tempted  to  apply  to  them  the  same  damnatory  adjective.  In  fact,  I  hardly  know  of  a  class  of 
fellow-humans  whom  I  like  less, — except  "  the  political  machinists  "  of  the  Cameronian  type, 
and  perhaps,  also,  "  the  athletes  "  and  "  sporting  men." 


Simplicity  of  liter- 
ary ideal. 


The  bicyclers  slowness  its 
charm  for  the  elderly. 


My  book  aims  to  be  practical  rather  than  "  literary,"  and  my 
desire  to  see  it  serve  as  an  effective  instrument  for  "  setting  the 
world  on  wheels  "  forces  me  to  be  very  explicit  in  showing  that 
I  am  as  different  a  perison  as  possible  from  the  "  author  "  who  is  presumably  conjured  up  in 
the  minds  of  most  men  by  the  first  sight  of  its  titie.  I  am  not  "  an  athlete,"  and  have  never 
attempted  anything  difficult  upon  the  bic3rcle.  Whatever  tours  I  have  taken  with  it, — whatever 
pleasures  or  advantages  I  have  gained  from  it, — ^may  be  readily  taken  and  gained  anew  by  any 
man  of  average  strength  and  activity.  Whether  or  not  I  may  be  believed  to  resemble  Gold- 
smith's more  distinguished  "Traveler"  in  being  "remote,  unfriended,  solitary,"  it  is  certain 
that  I  resemble  him  in  being  "  slow."  The  restless  rush  for  the  cemetery,  which  the  English- 
speaking  men  of  to-day  seem  absorbingly  anxious  to  reach  "  in  advance  of  all  foreign  competi- 
tion," is  a  race  I  have  no  share  in.  If  my  book  were  big  enough  to  momentarily  block  the 
progress  of  the  generation  now  on  the  down-grade  of  life,  I  would  wish  it  might  in  that  moment 
aay  to  them  ;  "  Look  here  at  the  bicycle !  It  is  a  slower  and  more  comfortable  vehicle  than 
he  hearse,  into  which  you  aue  all  trying  to  crowd  yourselves,  with  such  unseemly  haste  I  '* 


Qm'et  touriits  (net  shmBy  n 


,  J         The  Kliil  ligniGcaace  el  Die  bicydc  u  i  heilih 
preiervcr,  u  4  Ircthener  and  prolonger  ol  lile  ioi 
tryt  "  iHi'sAU  of  the  vi&til.  |  ^^^  ^„jy_  „  ,  ,«„1Lbs  companioD  iDd  «i  tc 

BTvry-day  focomcrikm^^hu  been  obocurcd  in  tbe  populai  perctpEioD  by  the  dust  ibTown  up  from 
tbe  (Eivent  wbeelm  of  Ibe  ridDg  men,  in  the  grui  loumaincDlg  prcmalcd  by  "  the  Iride."  Bui 
the  ncen  are  nUbiDg  nxn  Iban  Ihe  foam  and  Irolh  on  the  lurjice  of  Niagara'!  whirlpsol 

tbe  pool  lio  hidden  u  iu  depths,  u  Ihe  Inie  gpiiit  and  perminent  chanu  of  cydiag  arc  best  tx- 
emplified  by  lb*  army  ol  quiet  ridin  who  ne«r  dijplay  tbemKlvet  upon  i  race-track.  It  la  ii 
theii  lell-appoinled  repiewnlative  that  I  prasume  tu  put  forth  Ibii  book,  and  it  is  upon  mj 
■bUity  10  lepresenl  them  acceptably  thai  it*  ancceu  depeadi.  It  nukes  no  appeal  to  "  racen 
and  aihlelei  "  any  more  than  to  "  lileiaiy  men  ";  and  such  luppon  ai  it  may  derire  irom  ihtw 


Thi  plain  story  of  at. 


\        The  value  of  my  vork,  as  a  contribntion  to  human  kf>owlcd£i 

depends  laTgdy  upon  the  drcumMaoce  that  (being  liniply  a  slow 

""""*'  "■"■•■  I  gdng  »d  ab«mDt  traveler,  ol  no  more  than  medium  ualute  am 

per-op  ol  unconsidered  Irifcs."  Were  i  of  gigantic  ue  or  phenameiial  speed,  my  story  conk 
have  less  ugnificaoce  to  men  of  common  mold, — even  if  1  could  regist  the  temptation  lo  braf 
about  my  pToweu,  depreciate  «y  bated  rivals  and  twine  eomo  "  literary  "  laurel  around  mi 
bnw.  Knowing  no  rivals  in  wheeling  (or  in  anything  else),  I  cm  afford  to  speak  the  Iniil 
•qoarcly.  As  a  pan  of  my  plan  to  prove  that  I  am  a  ilow-wheeler,  I  have  given  many  foai 
HKcfl  showing  how othertoiiristg  on  the  same  routes  have  wheeled  Eastern  toprovc  ihaf  my  men 
riding  10,000  miles  in  five  yean  was  quite  commonplace,  I  have  given  full  details  of  (he  middle 

happening  to  be  the  earliest  man  who  pushed  a  tncyde  straight  along  ihe  earth's  surface  "1401 

pool's  boyish  phenomenon,  who  wheeled  straight  across  Great  Britain,  S6l  mites  in  five  days 


There  is,  indeed,  no  boaslfulnen  in  this  book,  and  pcecioL 

...nity.     "Painfully  egotistical  "was  the  chaiaderiialioo  applied 

tname  tgottsm.    |pa„grapher  of  a  daily  newspaper  to  some  of  my  louiing  chapters 

tbey  appeared  hi  ■  cycling  nioDthly,~aud  his  words  eipressed  a  deeper  truth  than  he  in 

for  them.    The  precise,  personal  style  of  narrative,  which  1  have  adopted  as  most  suilal 

tbe  purpose  in  hand,  is  certainly  "  painful "  in  the  sense  thai  a  rigid  adherence  toit  uext 


Saintific  ai 


the  book  lo  be  thus  "  egotistical  " — may  be  gained  from  my  preface  to  *'  Statistic 
Veterans"  (p.  501),  eihibiliog  Iheesseoiial  vanity  of  "  bashfulness."  It  is  not  beca 
uifictl  a  great  man,  that  I  feel  free  10  give  an  abundance  of  personal  details,  which, 
one,  would  interest  the  great  world  outside.  It  is  rather  because  I  think  my  person: 
■oliilely  no  account  to  that  outside  world,— because  I  think  my  details  loo  tedious  I 

nonservedly  lo  the  little  "  world  on  wheels."  It  is  because  of  the  strength  of  my  ai 
potby  with  the  inhabiUnts  thereof,  that  I  have  dared  to  disregard  the  usual  connnlio 

dearly  as  I  do  thai  my  "egotism"  has  not  been  dragged  in  fo 
It  (imply  fills  a  needed  function  in  illustrating  "the  enthus 
Remusiayi,  "it  hatter  be  derei  it's  a  patter  del  lale."  Likt 
Cnaoe, — the  blunt  straightiorwardness  of  a  uvige,— the  chasl 

upon  my  story  and  not  upnn  myself,  I  make  such  incidental 
Kcnu  to  need.     If  I  carry  the  cooSdeni  air  of  a  life  which  has 


An  autobiography  be- 
tween the  lines. 


Praise  not  sought  for ^ 
but  money. 


vi  TExW  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

regretted,  there  goes  along  with  it  the  conciliatory  notion  of  a  life  which  has  won  nothing  worthy 
of  public  boast,  and  which  expects  no  public  honor  in  the  future.  "  The  personal  element  " 
as  Professor  Sill  says,  "  need  not  be  in  the  least  an  egotistic  intrusion  of  self." 

Incidentally,  then,  the  volume  is  a  sort  of  autobiography,  and  its 
vitality  would  be  destroyed  if  "  the  personal  equation  "  could  be 
elimiuated.  The  complexity  and  far-reaching  relationship  of  mun- 
dane affairs  are  oddly  shown  by  this  example  of  how  sincerity  and  thoroughness,  even  when 
applied  to  so  remote  and  impersonal  an  object  as  reporting  the  roads  of  a  continent,  have  powel 
to  reflexively  exhibit  the  reporter's  habits  and  character.  As  regards  myself,  this  truth  became 
early  evident,  that  the  wheelmen  who  were  pleased  with  my  printed  facts  about  touring,  soon 
grew  to  have  a  feeling  of  acquaintanceship  with  the  narrator  of  them,  coupled  with  a  friendly 
curiosity.  While  at  work,  in  their  thousand  separate  ways,  men  may  hate  their  business-com- 
petitors and  feel  bored  by  non-competitors  who  insist  on  "  talking  shop  '* ;  but,  at  play,  they  are 
on  common  ground,  and  can  never  hear  too  much  said  in  praise  of  the  particular  hobby  which 
has  the  ability  to  delight  their  hearts.  Reflecting  on  this,  the  notion  gradually  possessed  me  that 
my  own  popularity,  as  a  representative  spokesman  among  those  players  whose  hobby  is  the  bicy- 
cle, might  be  great  enough  to  try  to  conjure  with.  Hence  it  happens  that— considering  how  my 
life,  with  all  its  trials  and  troubles,  has  been  a  rather  amusing  experience — I  now,  on  reaching 
the  end  of  it  (since  the  fun  of  the  thing  must  needs  be  finished  at  forty),  print  this  plain  record 
of  the  things  which  have  amused  me  most. 

I  do  it  as  a  duty, — "p<mr  encourager  les  autres  ";  but  I  do  it 
because  I  believe  "  the  others  "  will  pay  me  well  for  "  encouraging" 
them.  I  do  it  to  make  money.  Yet,  as  almost  all  books  are  written 
as  a  matter  of  vanity,  I  fear  few  people  will  believe  me  when  I  declare  that  ihis  one  is  written  as 
a  matter  of  business ;  and  that  its  chief  significance,  so  far  as  concerns  the  outside  world,  is  as  a 
unique  business  enterprise,  rather  than  as  a  literary  curiosity.  In  the  latter  category  I  think  it 
might  also  stand  alone,  as  I  am  not  aware  of  any  previous  "  autograph  edition  "  approaching  in 
magnitude  to  3600  volumes, — "  each  one  specially  numbered,  signed  and  addressed  to  nearly  that 
many  individual  subscribers," — though  possibly  the  records  of  bibliography  may  show  such  a 
phenomenon.  But  it  is  certain  that  from  the  day  when  the  crew  of  Noah  won  the  great  human 
race,  by  boating  in  the  Ark,  this  planet  of  ours  has  known  no  sport  or  pastime  of  such  absorb- 
ingly personal  interest  as  would  enable  an  obscure  and  self-appointed  representative  of  it  to  per- 
suade 3000  strangers,  scattered  all  over  the  globe,  that  they  pledge  their  money  to  him  for  con- 
structing a  monumental  record  of  their  enthusiasm. 

Though  all  the  other  pages  in  this  volume  be  judged  of  no  im- 
portance, those  serried  columns  of  subscribers'  names  (pp.  734.796) 
will  stand  as  an  everlastingly  significant  record  of  the  strength  of 
human  sympathy.  Appealing  simply  to  this  sentiment, — working  alone  and  single-handed  with 
my  pen  (literally,  left-handed,  during  the  third  year  of  the  struggle), — paying  no  money  to  the 
press  for  advertisements,  and  offering  no  premiums  or  discounts  or  rewards  of  any  sort  to  private 
canvassers,  I  have  done  a  thing  which  the  most  powerful  publishing  house  in  the  world,  resort- 
ing to  the  vast  machinery  of  the  organized  book-trade,  would  have  been  quite  unable  to  do.  No 
other  American  (with  the  possible  exception  of  the  man  who  founded  the  Pope  Manufacturing 
Company,  for  the  making  of  bicycles,  at  a  time  when  all  the  wise-heads  thought  such  conduct 
the  wildest  folly)  has  staked  as  much  as  I  have  thus  staked  upon  a  belief  in  the  permanence  and 
"potentiality"  of  cycling.  I  recognized  it  as  an  absolutely  new  thing  under  the  sun,  in  the 
sense  of  binding  its  votaries  together  by  a  stronger  personal  sympathy  than  any  sport  previously 
known  in  the  world.  The  men  who  like  yachting  and  boating  and  ball-playing  and  fishing  and 
shooting  and  horse-racing,  and  other  less  prominent  diversions,  have  an  incomparably  smaller  in- 
terest in  one  another  as  fellow-sportsmen.  No  competent  and  candid  critic  can  deny  that  I  have 
impressively  proved  this,  when  he  seriously  reflects  Ufxsn  the  utter  impossibility  of  any  other 
unknown  enthusiast's  persuading  3000  strangers  to  each  "  put  up  a  dollar,"  out  of  mere  senti- 
mental regard  for  any  other  sport. 


Unique  power  of  the  cy- 
cling- enthusicum. 


Tkr  selling  ofyyxyo  books 
less  notable  than  the  pledg- 
ing o/yyoo  subscribers. 


Business  necessity  of  my 
personal  revelations. 


PREFACE.  vii 

Hence  I  say  that  my  longest  tour  on  the  wheel  shrinks 
into  insignificance  beside  this  novel  tour  dt/orc*^ — this  strange 
showing  of  a  world*wide  brotherhood  which  gives  advance-sup- 
porters  to  an  unknown  American  book,  not  only  in  every  State 
and  Territory  of  tlie  Union,  but  400  of  them  outside  it :  in  Canada  and  Great  Britain,  in 
Australia  and  New  Zealand,  in  Continental  Europe,  in  Asiatic  Turkey,  Persia  and  Japan. 
Whether  or  not  I  shall  reap  the  expected  reward  for  this  exploit  (by  pleasing  these  3000  stran- 
gers so  well  that  they  will  quickly  force  a  sale  of  30,000  books  for  me),  experiment  only  can  de- 
cide ;  but  I  wish  now  to  record  the  opinion  that,  if  I  do  reap  such  reward,  it  will  not  seem  to 
me  so  phenomenal  a  proof  of  the  peculiarly  personal  power  of  cycling  enthusiasm  as  does  this 
preliminary  exploit  itself.  I  wish,  too,  that  before  any  critic  hastens,  off  hand,  to  condemn  this 
expectation  as  a  colossal  conceit,  he  will  carefully  consider  whether,  from  his  knowledge  of  the 
human  animal's  indisposition  to  pledge  money  for  anything  unknown,  my  scheme  for  selling 
30,000  books,  by  a  simple  appeal  to  the  friendly  sentiment  of  3000  strangers,  is  really  so  unbusi- 
nesslike and  unpromising  and  unreasonable,  as  was  my  first  step  for  proving  the  substantial  sym- 
pathy of  those  3000. 

I  have  a  right  to  insist  that  that  solid  phalanx  of  supportera 
shall  never  be  ignored  in  the  judgment  of  any  one  who  assumes 
fairly  to  judge  the  book  which  has  been  produced  by  their  en- 
couragement. While  declaring  that  so  great  a  phalanx  could  not  have  been  summoned,  by  the 
mere  push  of  a  pen,  in  behalf  of  any  other  sport  than  cjrding,  I  will  not  affect  a  mock-modest 
belief  that  even  this  phalanx  of  cyclers  could  thus  have  been  summoned,  in  the  absence  of  a  pre- 
vailing opinion  that  there  was  a  man  behind  the  pen.  I  feel,  therefore,  that  I  ought  not  to  be 
censured  or  ridiculed,  because,  as  a  mere  matter  of  business,  I  devote  considerable  fine  type,  in 
Chapter  xxxviii.  (pp.  701-733),  to  telling  them  who  this  man  is.  Unless  denial  be  made  in  advance 
that  I  have  any  right  to  persuade  these  people  to  serve  me  freely  as  book-agents,  my  mere  attempt 
to  placate  them,  by  showing  the  sort  of  person  they  are  serving,  cannot  be  condemned.  I  insist 
that  I  am  not  trying  there  to  exhibit  myself  to  other  people ;  and  that  "  the  general  reader  "  is 
not  bound  there  to  search  in  pursuit  of  something  else.  If  he  be  curious  to  study  "  the  growth 
of  an  idea  "  which  has  (by  imperceptible  gradations,  and  in  spite  of  my  hatred  of  publicity  and 
"business")  led  me  into  a  scheme  whose  success  now  demands  that  I  strive  to  make  myself 
the  most  notorious  inhabitant  of  the  "  wheel  world,"  he  can  find  the  full  details  there  given  ; 
but  he  must  remember  that  I  do  not  assume  his  curiosity  in  them,  and  do  not  give  them  for  any 
other  than  a  purely  practical  purpose.  If  I  am  to  sell  30,000  books  without  resorting  to  the  book- 
stores,— without  gp^nting  discounts  to  cycling  tradesmen  or  premiums  to  private  agents, — with- 
out paying  much  advertising  money  to  the  wheel  papers  and  none  at  all  to  the  general  press — it 
is  plainly  incumbent  upon  me  to  tell  my  prospective  assistants  exactly  what  I  want  them  to  do, 
and  exactly  why  I  hope  for  their  help  in  victoriously  violating  the  traditional  rules  of  the  book- 
business.  The  gist  of  my  endeavor  is  to  ensure  conviction  that  the  three  years  demanded  by  this 
bonk  have  been  spent  solely  in  their  interest, — that  I  have  constructed  it  with  absolute  personal 
independence  and  honesty : 

"  My  motives  pure ;  my  satire  free  from  gall ;  chief  of  my  golden  rules  I  this  install  : 

*  Malice  towards  none^  and  charity  for  edl.^  " 


Typography  and 
proof-reading. 


It  is  due  to  my  printers  to  say  that,  as  they  have  obeyed  the  contract 
calling  for  close  adherence  to  copy,  even  in  the  smallest  details  of  punctua- 
tion, I  alone  am  responsible  for  variations  in  "  style."  My  excuse  for  these, 
is,  not  simply  that  the  original  act  of  writing  has  extended  from  *79  ^^  '^1  ^"^  chiefly  that  the 
electrotyping  itself  has  extended  through  nearly  two  years.  So,  as  my  book  has  grown  farther 
and  farther  beyond  the  limits  first  set  for  it,  I  have  resorted  more  and  more  to  abbreviations  and 
condensed  forms  of  expression.  The  proportion  of  fine  type,  too,  has  been  vastly  increased,  and 
the  indexes  of  names  have  been  unpleasantly  "  jammed,"  in  a  similar  effort  to  lldiKe  the  bulk. 
£ven  "  Mr."  has  been  banished,  as  not  worth  its  room.    By  two  persrM""*  ~^  *-v 


X  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

V.  FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX,  24-34 :  My  broken  elbow  as  a  corner, 
stone  for  the  League,  24.  First  riding-lesson,  in  Boston,  25.  Early  exploration  of  New  York 
roads,  26.  First  tour  almost  coincident  with  "A  Wheel  Around  the  Hub,"  26.  Summaries  of 
mileage  (742  m.  in '79)»  ^1\  (U74n».  in '80),  28;  (1956  m.  in '81),  29;  (1827  m.  in  '82),  30. 
Separate  roadway  and  riding-days,  31.  Trips  by  rail  and  water,  31-33.  Solitude  a  necessity  of 
touring,  34.  Its  charm  shown  by  a  parody  from  Calverley,  34.  (Electro,  in  Mar.,  '85;  6300 
words.     From  the  Wkeelman^  Feb.,  '83  ;  reprinted  by  IVheel  IVorid,  of  London.) 

YI.  COLUMlilA,  NO.  234,  S5-48 :  Unique  experiences  which  makes  its  story  worth 
telling,  35.  My  disclaimer  of  mechanical  knowledge  and  of  partiality,  36.  Wear  and  tear  of 
first  1500  m.,  37.  Durability  of  tires,  38.  Spokes  injured  by  careless  polishing,  38.  Breakings 
of  backbone  and  neck,  39.  Cranks,  cone-bearings  and  new  parts,  40.  Costs  of  repairing,  of 
"  extras,"  of  clothes  and  of  transportation,  41.  Last  days  of  the  machine,  42.  New  backbone 
and  handle-bar,  43,  46.  Miraculous  escape  from  the  mules,  44.  Yain  experiment  at  spoke- 
tightening,  46.  Final  wear  of  tires  and  pedals,  47.  Plan  of  "  rebuilding  "  abandoned  in  favor 
of  "  No.  234,  Jr.,"  47.  Enshrined  as  a  monument  for  wheelmen's  homage,  48.  (Electro,  in 
Mar.,  '85 ;  8600  words,  incl.  500  of  fine  type.  First  half,  from  IVheelmaHt  Mar.,  '83  ;  second 
half,  from  Springfield  Wheelmen's  GazelUy  Apr.,  '84 ;  reprinted  by  Wheel  World,  July,  84.) 

YII.  MY  234  RIDES  ON  "NO.  234,"  49-68:  Triolet  for  peace-o£Eering.  49.  Daily 
averages,  49.  First  long  rides,  50.  List  of  50  m.  records  in  '81,  51.  Coasting,  51.  Long 
stays  in  saddle,  52.  A  blazing  strange  trial  on  Long  Island,  54.  Falls  and  headers,  55.  En- 
counters with  road-hogs,  horses  and  mules,  57.  Thefts  and  mishaps,  57.  Specimens  of  speed 
and  of  hill-climbing,  58.  Weight,  height,  leg-measurement  and  sizes  of  wheels  tried,  59.  Advan- 
tages of  an  under-size  machine,  60.  Tests  of  physique  in  ante-bicycling  days,  61.  Habits 
of  exercise,  bathing  and  eating,  61.  Long  immunity  from  illness,  62.  Sweating  and  drinking,— > 
with  some  extra-dry  rhymes  for  the  abstemious  Dr.  Richardson,  63.  (Electro,  in  Mar.,  '85; 
8800  words.     From  the  Wheelman,  Apr.,  '83  ;  verses  reprinted  by  Wheeling,  July  29,  '85.) 

YIII.  AROUND  NEW- YORK,  64-100:  Topography  of  Manhattan  Island,  64. 
Social  significance  of  localities,  65.  System  of  numbering  the  streets  and  houses,  65.  Block- 
stone  pavements  below  Central  Park,  66.  Policemen  and  children  as  obstacles  to  sidewalk- 
riding,  67.  Macadamized  roadways  around  and  above  the  Park,  68.  East-side  macadam  and 
Blackwell's  Island  paths,  69.  Momingside  Park  and  High  Bridge,  70.  Central  Bridge  and  Jer- 
ome Park,  71.  Washington  Heights  and  Kingsbridge,  72.  Fordham  and  the  Southern 
Boulevard,  72-3.  Pelham  Bridge  and  Ft.  Schuyler,  73-4.  Port  Chester,  White  Plains  and 
Tarrytown,  74-5.  Vincent  House  to  Yonkers  and  Kingsbridge,  75-7.  Riverdale  route  to 
Yonkers,  78.  Sawmill  river  route,  75,  79.  Notable  residences  along  the  Hudson,  79.  Spuyten 
Duyvil  and  Mt.  St.  Vincent,  80.  Nyack  and  Englewood,  80.  The  Palisades.  Ft.  Lee  and 
Weehawken,  81.  Ferries  to  Hoboken  and  Jersey  City,  82.  Two  routes  to  Newark,  82.  Bergen 
Hill  to  Ft.  Lee,  83.  Bergen-Line  Boulevard  and  the  Hackensack  marshes,  83.  Ferries  by 
which  to  enter  or  get  around  the  city,  84.  Route  of  Belt  line  horse-cars,  connecting  the  ferry 
and  steamboat  docks,  85.  Storage  of  wheels  at  the  ferry  baggage-rooms  or  on  Warren  St.,  86. 
The  big  bridge,  86-7.  Routes  to  and  through  Brooklyn,  87-8.  Prospect  Park  and  Coney 
Island,  89,  92.  Jamaica  and  Astoria,  90.  Ferries  on  East  river,  91.  Park  Commissioners  as 
obstructionists,  92-5.  Statistics  of  Central  Park  and  the  new  parks,  95-6.  Clubs  and  club- 
rooms,  96-7.  Fares  on  ferries  and  car  lines,  97.  The  elevated  railroads,  98.  "  Seeing  "  the 
city,  99.  Maps,  99.  Directories  and  guide-books,  100.  (Electro,  in  Apr.,  '85  ;  23.000  words, 
incl.  2000  of  fine  type.  First  half,  from  Springfield  Wheelmen's  Gaxette.  Bi.  World  and 
Wheel.  Many  corrections  of  and  additions  to  the  foregoing  were  written  in  Dec,  *86,  for  the 
"summary,"  on  pp.  582-6.     See  also  pp.  150-8,  165-6,  168,  246-7,  770-5.) 

IX.  OUT  FROM  BOSTON,  101-114 :  To  Portsmouth  and  back,  iot-2.  I^xington, 
Waltham,  Worcester  and  Springfield,  103-4.  Pembcrton  Square,  the  hotels,  club-houses  and 
other  landmarks,  104-6.  Streets  of  the  Back  Bay  district,  106.  Route  to  Rhode  Island,  107. 
Newport  rides,  loS.  Providence  to  Worcester,  109.  Springfield  to  Boston,  iio-ii.  Road- 
books and  maps,  112-13.    Day's  runs  of  zoom,  straightaway,  113-14.    (Electro,  in  May,  '85; 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS,  xi 

9600  words,  ind.  3600  of  fine  type.     First  part,  from  Bi.  JVarld,  Aug.  a6,  '81,  and  May  22,  '85. 
See  also  pp.  1 14,  208,  246,  579,  766-7.) 

X.  THE  ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD,  115-1S8:  -General  advantages  as  a 
riding-disirict,  116.  Eastward  routes,  117.  Northward  routes,  118.  Excursions  from  North- 
ampton, 1 19.  Westward  routes,  120.  Southward  routes.  122.  Chances  for  long  stays  in  the 
saddle,  without  repetition,  123-6.  Maps  and  guide-books,  126-7.  Notable  straightaway  runs, 
12S.  (Electro,  in  May,  *85 ;  9600  words,  incl.  3600  in  fine  type.  First  part,  from  Wheelman^ 
Dec,  '83.     See  "  summary  "  of  '86,  pp.  579-80 ;  also  pp.  144-8,  179-83,  i93-4.  208,  251-4, 768.) 

XI.  SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUI,  129.140:  The  Thames  and 
its  tributaries,  129.  Experiences  as  boat-race  manager  at  New  London,  130.  Along  the  shore, 
N.  L.  to  New  Haven,  131-2.  Routes  between  N.  H.  and  Hartford,  133.7.  Notable  rides  be- 
tween N.  H.  and  N.  Y.,  138-9.  Up  the  Naugatuck  valley,  139-42.  The  hills  of  Litchfield, 
143-4.  The  Farmington  valley,  145.  From  the  Hudson  to  the  hills  of  Berkshire,  146-8.  Maps, 
148.  Dr.  Tyler's  long  run,  149.  (Electro,  in  May,  '85 ;  14,400  words,  incl.  4290  in  fine  type. 
First  part,  from  Springfield  U'heelnutCs  Gazette,  June,  '85.  See  "summary  "  of  Dec,  '86, 
pp.  581-2  ;  also  pp.  122-3,  179-S0,  248-51,  253-4,  700,  769-70.)  ^ 

XII.  LONG  ISLAND  AND  STATEN  ISLAND,  150-158:  Greenport  to  Rivcr- 
head  and  the  south  shore,  150.  North  shore  route,  151.  Flushing  to  Yaphank  and  back  in 
'81,  152-3.  Long-distance  riders  of  '83-4,  154.  Maps  and  guide-books,  154-5,  158.  My  '81 
explorations  of  Staten  Island,  156.  "  B.  Bugle's"  '82  report,  157.  (Electro,  in  June,  '85;  6300 
words,  inch  2700  in  fine  type.  From  Bi.  IVorld,  Nov.  26,  *8o ;  May  ao,  '81 ;  Mar.  24  and  July 
28,  '82.     See  pp.  84,  86-92,  97,  583-6.) 

XIII.  COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  150-178:  Notable  map  by  the 
State  Geological  Survey,  159,  175-6.  Triangular  ot^tlines  of  the  Orange  riding-district,  160. 
Coasting,  161-2.  Morristown  and  the  Delaware  Water  Gap,  163-4,  i73-  Peterson,  Hackensack 
and  Ft.  Lee,  165-8.  Elizabeth  and  New  Brunswick,  167,  172.  Newark  northward  to  New- 
l>u*^>  »69-7i.  *'Z.  &  S."  tour  to  Greenwood  Lake,  170.  Somerville,  Trenton  and  Philadelphia, 
172-3.  Tow-path  from  Easton  to  Hackettstown,  173.  Basaltic  columns  of  Orange  Mtn.,  174-5. 
Maps  and  guides,  174-8.  "  '-eague  Road-book  of  Pa.  and  N.  J.,"  177-8.  (Electro,  in  June, 
'85;  13,250  words,  ind.  4850  in  fine  type.  First  part,  from  the  Wheelman,  June,  '83.  See 
"  summary  "  of  Dec,  '86,  pp.  583,  588-9;  also  pp.  80-85,  207,  776-8.) 

XIV.  LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON,  179-108:  Hartford  to  Springfield, 
179-S1.  Up  the  Conn,  valley  to  Bellows  Falls,  182-4.  Rutland  to  Whitehall  and  the  lake,  184-5. 
Maps  and  guide-books,  with  statistics  and  verses,  185-7,  i9^-  1'cn  days  in  the  Catskills,  187-9. 
From  the  lake  down  the  valley  to  Hudson,  189-90.  Outline  for  a  round  trip,  191.  "  Z.  &  S." 
tour  to  the  lake,  192-3.  Poughkeepsie  to  N.  Y.,  194.  Fishkill  to  Hudson,  195.  Swift  records 
along  the  river,  197.  "  Big  Four  "  tour,  198.  The  Wallkill  and  Ramapo  valleys,  i^S.  (Electro, 
in  June,  '85 ;  13,250  words,  incl.  4850  in  fine  type.  First  part,  from  Bi.  World,  Oct.  7,  Nov. 
II,  '81.     See  pp.  74,  81,  586.7,) 

XT.  THE  ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE,  109-208 :  Initiation  on  the  tow-path 
at  Schenectady,  199.  The  Mohawk  valley,  200.  Canandaigua,  202.  Niagara  to  Buffalo,  203. 
The  Ridge  road  along  Lake  Erie,  204-6.  Binghamton  to  Great  Bend,  207.  Port  Jervis  to  Del. 
Water  Gap  and  across  New  Jersey,  207.  W.H.Butler's  ride,  Saratoga  to  Olean,  208.  (Electro. 
in  Junc,*85  ;  6450  words,  incl.  1350  of  fine  type.     From  Bi.  Worlds  May  27,  June  3,  10,  17,  '81.) 

XVI.  NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS,  200-228:  Uiica  to 
Trenton  Falls,  209-10.  Suggestions  for  the  Adirondacks,  210-11.  Syracuse  to  Seneca  Falls, 
212.  Geneva  Lake  to  Avon  Springs,  213.  The  Genesee  valley  and  the  falls  at  Portage,  213-14, 
217.  Reports  from  Niagara,  215.  "  Big  Fo  ir"  route,  Buffalo  to  Rochester,  215.  Verses  on 
the  Genesee  Falls  and  the  Kaaterskill,  216.  Rochester  to  Portage  and  Niagara,  216-17.  Along 
the  Erie  r.  r..  Corning  to  Binghamton,  218-19.  Along  the  Susquehanna,  Towanda  to  Wilkes- 
barre,  219-20.  Weather,  hotels  and  b.ipgagemen  of  this  400  m.  tour,  221.  Abstract  of  "  West- 
em  New-York  Road-Book,"  221-3.  (Electro,  in  Jui^  '85;  xo,8oo  words,  incl.  5400  of  fine 
type.     From  the  Wheelman,  Jan.  '83.    See  pp.  586-8.) 


xii  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

XVII.  KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMxMOTH  CAVE,  224-287  :  How  the  B'.ue 
Grara  Region  welcomed  me,  on  the  first  summer-day  of  '82,  224.  Covington,  Georgetown  and 
Lexington,  225-6.  The  midnight  moon  lights  my  way  to  Harrodsburg,  227.  Crawford's  Cave 
and  the  battle-field  of  Perryville,  228.  Rain,  mud,  and  brook-fording,  for  a  grocery-store  sup- 
per at  Lebanon,  229.  Springfield,  Bardstown  and  New  Haven,  229-30.  Across  the  clay 
gulches;  the  hardest  day's  journey  in  four  years,  230-31.  By  train  and  wagon  to  Mammoth 
Cave,  231.  An  escort  out  from  Louisville,  232.  Frankfort,  Georgetown,  Paris  and  Millersburg, 
233.  Blue  Lick  Springs  to  Maysville,  233-4.  General  advice  and  special  praise  for  the  limestone 
pikes  of  the  Kentucky  hills,  234.  J.  M.  Verhoeff's  summary  of  450  m.  of  road  explored  by 
him  (5  counties  of  Indiana  and  9  of  Kentucky)  in  brief  trips  from  Louisville,  257.  (Electro,  in 
June,  '85;  9200  words,  incl.  2500  of  fine  type  in  the  V.  report.  From  the  Wheelman^  Oct., 
'83.     See  "  summary  "  of  Dec,  '86,  p.  590 ;  also  pp.  486,  783.) 

XVIII.  ALONG  THE  POTOMAC,  2$8-24o  :  Centennial  inspiration  of  this  '81  tour, 
238.  Frederick,  Hagerstown  and  Williamsport,  239,  243.  Benighted  among  the  bed-bugs  of 
*'  the  brick  house,"  239.  By  canal-boat  through  the  tunnel,  240.  Tramping  the  muddy  tow- 
path  (with  hunger,  solitude,  fog  and  darkness  as  attendants)  to  Cumberland,  240.  A  path  of 
pain,  also,  in  returning  :  Harper's  Ferry  to  Washington,  241.  Description  of  the  Chesapeake 
&  Ohio  canal,  242,  243-4.  W.  H.  Rideing's  sketch  of  "  The  Old  National  Pike,"  242-3.  An 
'83  tour  of  1000  m.  by  a  pair  of  Southern  cyclers,  244.  Ohio  men's  ride  to  Washington,  245. 
"Picturesque  B.  &  O.,"  245.  (Electro,  in  June,  '85;  5850  words,  incl.  2850  of  fine  type. 
From  the  Bi.  Worlds  June  23,  July  14,  '82.      See  pp.  384,  497,  590,  782.) 

XIX.  WINTER  WHEELING,  246-254:  Its  general  advantages,  246.  New  York 
to  Port  Chester,  246-7.  Across  Connecticut,  248-51.  My  6oooth  mile  finished  in  a  snow-storm, 
251.  Christmas  excursions  around  Springfield,  252.  Blown  to  Hartford  in  January,  253.  Brad- 
ley's chart  of  the  Springfield  riding-district,  254.  (Electro,  in  June,  '85  ;  4900  words,  incl.  500 
of  fine  type.     From  the  Wkeelmariy  May,  '83.) 

XX.  IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS,  265-281 :  Independence  the  distinctive  charm 
of  bicycling,  255.  Why  I  once  sacrificed  it  for  the  pleasure  of  the  discomforts  which  belong  to 
"  touring  iji  a  crowd,"  256.  Elwell's  glowing  prospectus,  257.  The  three  dozen  "  participants  " 
in  this  earliest  of  cycling  excursions  on  a  large  scale,  257-S.  Steamboat  ride  from  Portland, 
259.  Start  of  the  cavalcade  at  Eastport,  and  "  first  blood,"  260.  Good  dinner  and  bad  rain  at 
Robbinston,  261.  Alone  I  wheel  to  Calais,  262.  Fascination  of  conquering  the  mud  and  storm, 
263.  Humors  of  "personal  journalism  "  on  the  border,  263-4.  A  day's  halt  in  the  rain  and 
fog,  265.  The  making  of  boots  and  language  in  New  Brunswick,  265.  Dancing  through  the 
stormy  night,  266.  Adieu  to  Calais  and  its  charmers,  from  the  steam-tug's  foggy  deck,  266. 
Second  dinner  at  Robbinston,  and  a  ghostly  return-ride  to  Eastport,  267.  Steaming 
through  the  mists  to  Lubec,  268.  Voting  for  Grand  Manan  and  getting  Campo- 
bello,  269.  An  agreeable  afternoon  on  that  island,  270.  Blazing  sunshine,  at  last,  for 
the  ride  to  Machias,  271-2.  The  pleasures  of  I-told-you-so  and  of  Sunday  loitering,  272-3. 
My  only  "  square "  headers  in  eight  years'  riding,  273-4.  Scenes  from  the  homeward 
steamer*s  deck,  274.  Mt.  Desert  as  a  place  for  gratifying  the  "  club-run  ideal,"  by  a  long  and 
tiresome  scramble  for  "  mileage  "  over  the  rocks,  275.  Details  of  our  actual  scramble,  illus- 
trative of  the  general  report,  "  Six  bent  handle-bars  out  of  a  possible  ten,"  276-8.  Morning 
jaunt  to  "  the  Ovens,"  278.  Happy  finale  of  the  tour,  279.  Pictures  of  its  scenes  and  of  the 
"  participants,"  279.  Explanation  of  my  own  rule  against  giving  away  my  likeness,  280.  The 
discomforts  of  notoriety,  280-Si.  A  personal  photograph  worth  publishing,  281.  Map  and 
guide  to  Mt.  Desert,  281.  'Electro,  in  June,  '85  ;  16,900  words,  incl.  2100  of  fine  type.  Pp. 
275-9  aJ'c  from  \\i^'  Springfield  Wheelmen^ s  Gazette,  July,  '85,  and  pp.  2*0- 1  from  the  Bi. 
World,  May  22,  '85.     See  "  summary  "  of  Dec,  '86,  pp.  573-5  ;  also  pp.  765-6.) 

XXI.  NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND,  282-294  :  Mysteries  of 
the  customs  rules  and  the  express  business,  282.  Yarmouth  to  Weymouth  in  the  rain,  282-3.  A 
moist  picnic  of  the  Acadian  French,  283-4.  Digby,  Annapolis  and  Kentville,  2^4-5.  Grand  Pr^ 
and  Windsor,  286.     A  rainy  ride  thro^h  the  forest  to  Halifax,  287.     Environs  of   H.,  and 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS,  xiii 

statistics  of  the  coast  route  to  Yarmouth,  288,  293.  Sliort  spins  on  the  island  of  Caj^e  Breton, 
2S8.  Description  of  Prince  Edward  Island,  290.  Two  days  of  pleasant  struggling  with  its 
winds  and  rutty  roads,  291.  Impressions  of  Halifax  and  its  "  English  atmosphere,"  291.  Sum- 
mary of  the  fortnight's  tour  and  its  varied  enjoyments,  292.  Sweetser's  guide-books,  293. 
(Electro,  in  June,  '85;  8000  words,  incl.  700  of  fine  type.  From  Outing^  Apr.,  '84;  reprinted 
in  part  by  "  Canadian  W.  A.  Guide,"  Apr.,  '84,  and  Mar.,  '87.     See  pp.  330,  636,  790.) 

XXII.  STRAIGHTAWAY  FOR  FORTY  DAYS,  294-809 :  The  down-grade  from 
middle-age,  394.  Long-distance  touring  as  a  cure  for  malaria,  295.  Sympathy  with  the  Indian's 
longing  to  "  walk  large,"  395.  Gradual  growth  of  the  idea  that  I  might  make  a  monumental 
trail  "  from  Michigan  to  Virginia,"  296.  Mileage  statistics  of  the  actual  tour,  296-7.  Summary 
of  the  weather-changes,  297-300.  Four  rain-storms  during  my  Canadian  fortnight,  with  adverse 
winds,  297.  Mud  and  moisture  in  cr(»sing  New  York,  29S.  Picturesque  snow-squalls  in  Penn- 
sylvania, 299.  Indian-summer  haze  in  Virginia,  300.  My  surprise  on  being  credited  with  "  the 
first  long  trail  in  cycling  history,"  300.  Swift  riding  in  Ontario  not  a  hindrance  to  scenic  enjoy- 
ment, 301.  Outline  of  the  object-lessons  which  instructed  me  between  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the 
Potomac,  302.  Distinctive  intellectual  charm  of  conquering  Nature  herself,  303.  Scenes  and 
circumstances  amid  which  I  completed  "  the  first  American  trail  of  a  thousand  miles  straight- 
away," 304.  The  sensation  of  triumph,  as  voiced  in  the  verses  of  "  H.  H.,"  304.  The  strangest 
scene  in  aU  my  travels  (and  the  only  one  which  this  book  attempts  to  reproduce  by  "  word-paint- 
ing"), 305.  Falls,  night-riding  and  mishaps  of  the  forty  days,  306-7.  Pathological  observations, 
306-7.  Clothes,  shoes  and  baggage-supplies,  30S.  Malaria  completely  cured,  but  the  love  of 
touring  insatiable,  307.  My  compliments  to  the  players  at  national  politics,  and  my  praises  of 
continental  wheeling  as  an  equally  respectable  game  for  the  elderly,  309.  The  ideal  of  a  quiet 
life,  as  portrayed  by  paraphrase  of  George  Arnold's  verses,  309.  (Electro,  in  Oct.,  '8$  ;  10,600 
words,  incl.  600  of  fine  type.  First  half,  from  Springfield  Wheelnun^s  Gazetiey  Nov.,  '85; 
second  half,  from  Wkeel  IVorld,  of  London,  Dec,  '85.) 

XXIII.  A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO,  810-882:  Chance  for  100  m.  of  swift 
riding,  from  Windsor  or  Tecumseh  to  Clearville,  310-ti.  Crying  need  of  a  change  in  Canada's 
cumbersome  customs  regulations  against  bicycling,  311-12.  My  100  m.  run  in  20  h., — London, 
Goderich  and  Mitchell,  312-14.  Pres.  Bates's  report  in  '83  of  bad  roads  near  Clearville  and 
Hamilton,  314.  C.  H.  Hepinstall's  100  m.  straightaway,  314.  Various  tourists'  reports  of  roads 
in  Western  Ontario,  3 15-16.  Summary  of  my  fortnight's  mileage,  3 17.  An  80  m.  run  to  Toronto, 
ending  in  the  frosty  moonlight  of  early  mom,  317-18.  Records  of  Toronto  road-riders,  318-19. 
Conflicting  reports  from  the  two  Chicago  touring-parties,  '84  and  '85,  as  to  roads  and  scenery 
between  Toronto  and  Kingston,  320.  Details  of  first  Amzrican  straightaway  road-race, 
C^ibouTg  to  Kingston,  321-2.  Biography  of  the  winner,  Cola  E.  Stone,  322-3.  Clerical  wheel- 
men's Canadian  tour  of  Aug.,  '85,  323-4.  Other  reports  from  Kingston,  324-5.  Rough  riding 
from  K.  to  Prescott,  to  complete  the  run  of  635  m., — the  longest  ever  made  by  me  in  14  days, 
325-6.  Routes  to  Montreal  and  to  Ottawa,  and  the  environs  of  O.,  326-7.  Tour  of  F.  M.  S. 
Jenkins,  Ottawa  to  Montreal  and  Sorel,  327-8.  Quebec  to  Metane,  329.  Excursions  from 
Quebec,  330.  The  first  bicycle  trail  in  the  Western  World  made  at  Montreal  on  "  Dominion 
Day  "  of  1874,  330.  Description  of  the  "  C.  W.  A.  Guide-Book  "  and  summary  of  its  routes, 
330-32.  Maps,  331.  (Electro,  in  Nov.,  '83;  18,900  words,  incl.  15,300  of  fine  type.  From 
L.  A.  W.  Bulletin^  Nov.  and  Dec,  '85;  enlarged  from  sketch  in  "  Canadian  W.  A.  Guide," 
Apr.,  '84.  Sec  "  summary"  of  Dec,  '86,  p.  575,  for  Quebec-to-Montreal  route  ;  see  also  pp. 
296-307,  500.636,  789-90.) 

XXIT.  THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE,  888-852:  Kingston 
as  an  objective-point  for  tourists,  333.  Ogdensburg  to  Watertown  and  Syracuse,  334-5-  S.  to 
Cazenovia,  with  reports  from  local  riders,  336.  The  Otselic  valley  and  Binghamton,  337.  A 
hote1-cIerk*s  lesson  at  Susquehanna,  338.  Over  the  mtns.  to  Honesdale,  339.  By  tow-path  to 
Purt  Jervis,  340.  Reported  routes  thence  to  the  Hudson  and  to  Scranton,  340.  From  the 
Delaware  to  the  Lehigh,  341.  The  Mahoning  valley  and  the  Schuylkill,  342.  Fast  riding 
from  Reading  to  Chambersburg,  343-4.     Poled  across  the  Potomac  at  Williamsport,  344.    Up 


xiv  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

the  noble  "  Valley  pike  "  to  Staunton,  344-6.  Topography  of  the  Shenandoah  region,  from  G. 
£.  Pond's  "  Campaigns  of  1S64,"  346-8.  Tour  of  Washington  men  in  '82,  from  Harper's  Ferry 
to  the  Natural  Bridge  and  back  to  W.,  34S-9.  My  own  pedestrian  trip  to  tlie  Bridge,  349-50. 
Suggested  combination  of  r.  r.  routes  to  the  Bridge  and  Luray  Cavern,  350-1.  Other  reported 
roads  in  Virginia,  351.  Military  maps  iu  "  The  Campaigns  of  the  Civil  War,"  352.  (Electro, 
in  Nov.,  '85;  14,200  words,  ind.  6500  of  fine  type.  First  part,  from  S^ingfigld  WfuelmerCs 
Gaseitt,  Dec,  '85.     See  pp.  298-30S,  374-90.  486,  495-8.  578,  59°) 

XXV.  THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA,  853  870:  A  winter  invitation  from 
Maine,  353.  Geography  and  topography  of  the  islands,  from  various  authorities,  354-6.  Mark 
Twain's  alluring  account  of  the  coral  roads,  356-7.  Our  arrival  at  Hamilton  on  Sunday,  358. 
Sunset  and  moonlight  along  the  North  road  to  St.  George's,  359.  The  South  road,  36a  The 
Middle  road  and  Somerset,  361.  My  race  for  the  return  steamer,  362-3.  Incidents,  expenses 
and  conditions  of  the  ocean  voyage,  364.  Pleasant  impression  of  the  blacks,  364-5.  Praise  of 
"  the  incomparable  loquot,"  365,  367.  Almanac,  maps  and  guide-books,  366-7.  Exact  details 
of  the  process  called  "  free  entry  "  at  the  New  York  Custom  House,  368-9.  My  companion 
appeals  against  our  unjust  tax,  and  wins  a  new  decision  from  the  Treasury  Department,  369-70. 
This  decision  classes  passengers'  cycles  as  "  personal  effects,"  to  be  admitted  without  duty  or 
delay,  370.  Four  names  for  wheelmen  to  hold  in  grateful  memory,  370.  (Electro,  in  Jan.,  '85, 
except  the  last  3  pp.  in  Dec. ;  11,600  words,  incl.  2900  of  fine  type.  From  Spring JUld  Wheel- 
nutCs  Gazette ^  Jan.,  '85,  except  the  last  3  pp.  from  Outing,  Mar.,  '85  ;  reprinted  in  Tricycling 
Journal,  of  London,  and  Australian  Cycling  News.  The  first  15  pp.  were  issued  as  a  pamphlet 
— 1000  in  Jan.  and  2000  in  Feb.,  '85— for  the  attraction  of  subscribers.     See  pp.  706,  710,  790.) 

XXYl.  BULL  RUN,  LURAY  CAVERN  AND  GEriTSBURG,  871-880:  An  '84 
tour,  inspired  by  my  hope  of  seeing  "  one  good  parade  of  the  League,"  371.  Through  Philadel- 
phia and  Delaware,  372.  Stuck  in  the  Maryland  mud,  373,  Ciood  riding  from  the  Susquehanna 
to  Baltimore  and  EUicott  City,  373.  By  Clarksville  pike  to  Washington,  373-4.  Fairfax  Court 
House  and  Centerville,  374.  Across  the  Bull  Run  battle-fi(?lds  to  Warrenton,  375.  Washing- 
ton's environs,  as  reported  by  W.  F.  Crossman,  376.  Baltimore's  suburbaiA  routes,  377. 
Springfield  clerks'  tour,  New  York  to  Washington,  377.  Susquehanna  tow-path,  Havre-de- 
Grace  to  Columbia,  3^8.  My  muddy  advance  from  Warrenton  and  passage  of  the  Rappahan- 
nock, 378-9.  Sweet  strawberries  at  Sperryviile  before  I  climb  the  mountain,  379.  Thunder 
and  lightning  celebrate  my  four-miles'  descent  of  the  Blue,  Ridge,  380.  Luray  and  its  Cavern 
contrasted  and  compared  to  Mammoth  Cave  and  Natural  Bridge,  381-2.  Over  the  Massanutten, 
381-2.  Broiled  frogs*  legs  at  Mt.  Jackson,  383.  Down  the  Shenandoah  to  Harper's  Ferry,  383-4. 
From  the  Antietam  to  Gettysburg,  384-5.  Sunday  morning's  reflections  in  the  National  Ceme- 
tery, 385-6.  York,  Columbia,  Lancaster,  Alhntown  and  Enston,  386-7.  The  1000  m.  circuit 
which  initiated  "  No.  234,  Jr.,"  388.  H.  S.  Wood's  swift  ride  from  Staunton  to  Columbia,  and 
other  excursions,  388.  His  summary  of  the  Philadelphia  riding-district,  including  rules  of 
Fairmount  Park,  389-90.  Artistic  and  literary  treatment  of  the  '69  viloce,  390.  (Electro,  in 
Dec,  '85;  14,400  words,  incl.  7200  of  fine  type.  First  part,  from  Springfield  IVheeimen's 
Gazette,  Jan.,  '86 ;  last  paragraph  was  crowded  out  from  p.  404  of  "  Bone-Shaker  Days."  See 
pp.  172-3,  238-45,  341-53.  486,  495-8,  578.) 

XXVII.  BONE-SHAKER  DAYS,  801-406:  How  the  Wonderful  Year,  "  1S69," 
rolled  in  on  a  velocipede,  391.  The  load  of  obligations  which  bound  me,  a  Senior  in  Yale  Col- 
lege, to  waste  no  time  in  trifling,  392.  First  experiences  at  the  rink,  and  decision  to  resist  its 
allurements,  393.  A  sidew.ilk  vision-of-bsauty  on  the  two-wheeler  scatters  my  prudence  to  the 
winds,  393.  I  submit  to  destiny  and  become  a  velocipedist,  394.  The  old  white  horse  whose 
ghost  I  sent  galloping  through  the  newspapers,  395.  Proof  that  the  undergraduate  world  forms 
the  only  real  and  universally-recognized  aristocracy  in  America,  396-7.  Trustworthiness  of 
"journalism,"  as  shown  by  eight  variations  of  the  fictitious  "  horse  story,"  397-8.  The  bone- 
shaker welcomed  at  Yale  in  1819  as  well  as  in  '69,  39H-9.  The  Yale  Lit.  Magazine* s  cat^IwX 
chronicle  of  the  three  months  which  marked  the  rise,  decline  and  fall  of  velocipeding  at  New 
Haven,  400-a.    Other  testimony,  from  Goddard's  scrappy  book  and  the  newspapers  of  '69, 402-4 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  xv 

(see  also  p.  390).  Post-collegiate  reminiscences  of  the  Pickering,  404-5.  My  final  trial  of  the 
bone-shaker,  in  '73,  at  the  Crystal  Palace  dog-show,  405.  Narrow  chance  by  which  I  failed  of 
"importing  the  first  rubber-tired  bicycle  into  the  United  States,"  when  I  came  home  from  En- 
gland in  April  of  'j^*  ¥^'  (Electro,  in  Aug.,  '85 ;  10,700  words,  incl.  3900  of  fine  type.  First 
half  from  SPgfld.  WktelmenU  Gazette^  Sept.,  '85 ;  last  half  from  Wheel  World,  of  London, 
Oct.,  *85  ;  reprinted  also  by  Tricycling  Journal,  Dec.  23,  30,  '85  ;  Australian  Cycling  News, 
Jan.  3,  '86.  Issued  as  a  pamphlet,  1000  copies,  for  the  attraction  of  subscribers,  Nov.  12,  '85.) 
XXTIII.  CURL,  THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS,  407^25:  Origin,  characteristics 
and  environment,  407.  The  gentlest  of  hearts  beneath  a  fierce  exterior,  408.  Personal  appear- 
ances and  "  points,"  409.  General  impression  made  upon  sfTangers,  as  portrayed  by  the  poet 
of  Puck,  409.  Leaping  through  the  window-glass,  with  the  cry  of  "  Out!  damned  Spot!  " 
41a  Relations  with  Black  Jack,  ostensible  and  secret,  410-ix.  The  garden  fence  as  a  pre- 
tended barrier  for  bravery,  411.  Verses  of  honor  for  "  the  outside  dog  in  the  fight,"  412. 
Ruffianism  towards  a  pair  of  canine  weakiiugs,  412.  Ears  sensitive  to  bell-ringing,  413.  The 
fatal  fascination  of  fireworks,  413.  Conventional  resentment  assumed  for  certain  noises  and 
movements,  413-14.  Winter  sport  with  snow-caves,  sledding  and  skating,  414.  Hatred  of 
boating  and  swimming,  415.  A  furtive  drinker,  415.  Assumption  of  dignified  indifference  to- 
wards the  cats,  416.  Tricks  in  food-taking,  416.  Demand  for  the  front  seat  in  every  vehicle, 
417.  Exploits  as  a  fence-jumper  and  hen-chaser,  417.  Troubles  as  a  fiy-catcher  and  candy- 
eater,  418.  Victorious  over  the  woodchuck  but  vanquished  by  the  bumble-bees,  418.  Abashed 
by  the  elephant,  4x8.  The  wicked  flea,  419.  "Circling"  as  a  conventional  diversion,  4x9. 
Religious  rites  with  the  saw-horse,  419.  A  fetich  of  wonderful  power,  420.  Canine  asceticism 
gratified  by  head-bumping,  421.  Birth  and  name,  421.  Politically  a  '*  War  Democrat  "  in  the 
stirring  times  of  '61,  422.  Rare  Lipses  from  virtue's  path,  422.  Health  and  strength  impaired 
by  poison,  422.  Dislike  of  mirrors  and  bed-chambers,  423.  Outward  signs  of  seeing  phantasms 
and  visions  in  sleep,  423.  Deliberateness  of  retiring  for  the  night,  423-4.  Waning  prestige  a 
token  of  old  age,  424.  Refusal  to  tarry  in  a  world  which  might  give  greater  esteem  to  "  cycling" 
than  to  "  circling,"  424.  Exceptional  toleration  for  the  poor  creature  who  was  fated  to  attend 
him  on  the  final  night,  425.  Dead,  at  the  post  of  honor,  425.  (Electro,  in  July,  '85  ;  11,000 
words,  incl.  325  of  fine  type.  Written,  July  27  to  Aug.  2,  '84,  and  rejecteil  by  all  the  magazine 
editors.  A  special  edition  of  1000  copies,  on  heavy  paper,  with  cover  and  heliotype  portrait,  has 
been  published  and  will  be  mailed  for  25  c.  each.) 

XXIX.     CASTLE   SOLITUDE    IN  THE   METROPOLIS,  426-473:     Rarity  of 
"  character  "  in  buildings,  426.     Chances  for  self-suppression  in  London  and  New  York  com-* 
pared,  426-7.      The  only  two  modern  cities  whose  immensity  obliterates  the  sense  of  locality 
and  renders  individual  isolation  possible,  427.     The  metropolitan  spirit  of  impersonality  illus- 
trated by  a  quotation  from   Howells,  427-*-      Lightness  of  **  social  pressure  "  in  the  most- 
secluded  Building  of  the  least-censorious  city  on  the  globe,  428.   Description  of  it,  as  "  Chrysalis 
College,"  in  Theodore  Winthrop's  novel  of  1861,  428-9.     Report  by  T.  B.  Al'drich,  in  1866,  430. 
Three  other  accounts,  in  1880,  431.     History  of  Washington  Square,  with  Henry  James's  sym- 
pathetic picture  of  it  as  "  the  most  delectable,"  432.     The  Naiion^s  accurate  description  of  the 
Square,  in  1878,  433.     Pictures  and  statistics  of  the  Building,  in  various  standard  works,  434. 
Its  comer-«tone  laid  in  1833  and  its  chances  of  endowment  destroyed  by  the  business  panic  of 
*37»  433-4-    A  more  massive  and  imposing  collegiate  pile  than  had  previously  been  known  in 
the  Western  World,  434-5.     Dream  of  the  founders  about  a  "non-sectarian  combination  "  up- 
held by  the  influence  and  cash  of  several  powerful  sects,  435.     Popular  confusion  of  identity 
between  the  "  University  of  the  City  of  N.  Y.,"  the  "University  of  the  State  of  N.  Y.,"  the 
'*  College  of  the  City  of  N.  Y."  and  that  other  and  largest  college  in  the  city  which  is  called  a 
oniversity  by  its  friends,  436.     No  hope  of  great  endowments,  but  no  fear  of  actual  starvation, 
436-7.     A  meritorious  institution,  but  dwarfed  by  the  shadow  of  a  mighty  name,  437.     How  the 
two  hundred  students  and  instructors,  who  daily  throng  Its  halls,  serve  as  a  cloak  for  the  identity 
of  the  thirty  or  forty  permanent  tenants,  438.    Di£k:ulty  of  espionage  by  day,  and  isolation  of 
the  janitor  by  night,  438.    A  peculiarity  ^tHaj^mjjkJJjj^uiAn  the  alleged  concealment  of  "  Cecil 


xvi  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Dreeme,"  438-9.  Sketch  of  Theodore  Winthrop,  439-40.  The  mystery  of  solitude  protects  the 
Building  from  the  incursions  of  the  evil-minded,  440-1.  As  regards  its  relations  to  womankind, 
441-4.  "  Castle"  and  "  Custom  "  contrasted,  444.  "  Social  pressure  "  in  England,  which  ob- 
literates individual  freedom,  445-S.  Testimony  of  Hamerton,  Borrow  and  Nadal,  446-7.  The 
latter's  showing  why  "  society  "  cannot  exist  in  America,  448-9.  Relentlessness  of  servants* 
tjTanny  over  the  wealthy,  whether  their  environment  be  aristocratic  or  democratic,  449-50. 
Evils  of  hotel-life,  450.  Disquieting  social-shadows  cast  by  the  peculiar  system  of  street-num- 
bering in  use  on  Manhattan  Island,  45«-2-  Fifth  Avenue,  as  described  in  '85  by  J.  H.  Howard, 
jr.,  453-4.  Brief  escapes  from  the  "  servitude  to  servants  "  gained  by  a  resort  to  the  woods,  or 
to  the  constant  changes  of  travel,  454.  The  only  house  in  the  world  where  the  yoke  of  con- 
formity need  never  be  worn,  454.  How  the  simple  savagery  of  the  Far  West  may  be  enjoyed, 
with  less  expense  and  discomfort,  by  the  solitary  camper-out  on  Washington  Square,  455.  An 
elegant  and  elaborate  system  of  living  also  possible,  without  abandonment  of  impersonal  con- 
ditions, 456.  The  janitor  and  his  assistants,  457-61.  Contrasts  pointed  by  "  the  mighty 
concierge"  who  tyrannizes  over  Paris,  458-9.  Lack  of  conveniences  and  of  good  business- 
management  atoned  for  by  safety  and  independence,  460-1.  The  inspiring  fiction  of  sole 
ownership,  46a.  Rarity  of  personal  contact  among  tenants,  463.  The  Nestor  of  the  Castle, 
464.  Artists  and  college-bred  men  its  chief  admirers,  465.  Pleasures  of  undergraduate  life  re- 
called without  its  labors,  466.  Peace  secured  at  the  Castle  without  the  sacrifice  of  companion- 
ship, 467.  Hamerton's  remarks  on  the  compensations  of  solitude  and  independence,  467-9. 
Bohemianism  and  Philistinism  contrasted,  469.  Visit  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  in  i860,  to  this 
"  freest  spot  in  free  America,"  469-71.  Analogy  betw^een  the  Building  and  the  Bicycle,  472. 
Poem  by  Robert  Herrick,  472.  (Electro,  in  Sept.,  '85;  31,700  words,  in cl.  11,700  of  fine  type. 
Written  in  Sept., '84,  and  Aug.,  '85  ;  see  p.  710.  A  special  ed.  of  1000  copies,  on  heavy  paper, 
with  cover  and  small  picture  of  the  Castle,  has  been  published  and  will  be  mailed  for  25  c.  each.) 

XXX.  LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS,  478-o01 :  Thomas  Stevens 
and  his  8000  m.  trail,  of  1884-5,  from  California  to  Persia,  473-4  (see  also  pp.  570-2,  for  ad- 
ventures of  *86,  in  Afghanistan,  India,  China  and  Japan,  completing  his  round-the-world  tour). 
San  Francisco  to  Boston  in  '84,  475-80.  Liverpool  to  Teheran  in  '85,  480-3.  Comparisons  be- 
tween his  three  years'  journey  and  my  own  three  years'  task  of  putting  together  this  book,  483-4. 
Hugh  J.  High's  '85  tour  of  3000  m.,  Pennsylvania  to  Nebraska  and  back,  484-6.  Long  ride  in 
'83  by  Dr.  H.  Jarvis,  486-7.  St.  Louis  to  Boston  in  '85,  by  G.  W.  Baker,  487-8.  Ohio-to-Bos- 
ton  tours  of  '80  and  '81,  488.  Illinois  to  Wyoming  in  '82,  by  Will  Rose,  489.  A  July  fortnight 
of  '84  in  California,  by  H.  C.  Finkler,  489-9»-  Yosemite  Valley  trip  of  '85,  by  the  Rideout 
brothers,  491-2.  Notable  all-day  runs  in  California,  '79  to  '85,  491-4.  W.  B.  Page's  summer 
excursions  from  Philadelphia,  '82  to  '85,  494-9  (see  also  pp.  574-8  for  1400  m.  tour  of  '86). 
Elderly  and  "  professional  "  tourists,  499-  Southern  trios'  tours  to  Springfield  in  '85  and  to 
Boston  in  '86,  500.  M.  Sheriff's  Manchester-Montreal  circuit  of  700  m.  in  '84,  500.  E.  R. 
Drew's  routes  in  Ohio,  501.  W.  P.  Cramer's  three  days'  straightaway,  501.  (Electro,  in  Jan., 
'86 ;  26,000  words,  ind.  only  250  of  coarse  type.  Stevens's  ride  to  Boston,  pp.  473-80,  was  printed 
in  Wheelmen's  Gazette,  Jan.,  '87 ;  and  the  rest  of  the  story,  pp.  480-4,  S7^2,  in  Feb.  issue.) 

XXXI.  STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS,  602-580:  Difficulty  of  persuad- 
ing  men  to  prepare  personal  records,  502-3.  C.  E.  Pratt,  503-4.  J-  G.  Dalton,  504-5.  L.  J. 
Bates,  505-6.  C.  A.  Hazlett,  506-7.  W.  V.  Oilman,  507-8.  L.  H.  Johnson,  508-9  (see  also 
530,  588).  J.  W.  Smith's  tabulation  of  20,000m.,  July,  '80,  to  Dec,  '85,  509.  R.  D.  Mead,  509-10. 
N.  P.  Tyler,  510-ix.  H.  W.  Williams,  511-12.  S.  H.  Day,  5"-»3-  T.  Midgley,  5i3-»5-  W. 
L.  Perham,  515.  T.  Rothe,  515-16.  A.  S.  Parsons,  516-17.  W.  Farrington,  5»7-"8.  E.  A. 
Hemmenway,  517-18.  B.  B.  Ayers,  518-19.  N.  H.  Van  Sicklen,  519.  F.  E.  Yates,  519-20. 
G.  J.  Taylor,  520.  T.  B.  Somers,  520-1.  J.  D.  Dowling,  521-2.  G.  F.  Fiske,  522-3.  E. 
Mason,  523.  W.  R.  Pitman,  523-4.  H.  E.  Ducker,  524.  I.  J.  Kusel,  524.  A.  Young,  525. 
E.  H.  Corson,  525  (see  also  577,  670-1).  A.  Bassett  and  J.  G.  Dean,  525-6  (see  also  663.5).  H. 
B.  Hart,  526  (see  also  660,  678).  My  unanswered  letter  to  C.  D.  Kershaw,  526.  A.  Ely  and 
W.  G.  Kendall,  526.    Greatest  American  mileage  in  '85  :    J.  D.  Macaulay's  6573  m.  and  C. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  xvii 

M.  Goodnow's  5056  m.,  527.  J.  Reynolds  and  wife,  528.  W.  E.  Hicka*s  4679  m.  as  a  news- 
gatherer  in  '85,  528-9.  J.  W.  Bell's  long  stay  in  saddle,  529.  F.  P.  Symonds,  529.  J.  V. 
Stephenson,  529-30.  L.  B.  Graves,  F.  A.  Elwell,  A.  B.  Barkman,  W.  T.  Williams  and  E.  P. 
Burabam,  530.  Tri.  record  of  5957  m.  in  '85,  by  three  merry  wives  of  Orange,  530.  (Electro, 
in  Jan.,  *86;  25,500  words,  incL  only  850  of  coarse  type.  Pp.  Soi-7»  fro™  Springfield  Wheel- 
metes  GeueUe,  Mar.,  ^86.) 

XXXII.     BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS,  681-672 :    Request  that  English 
press^men  show  fair-play  towards  my  foreign  contributors,  531.      £.  Tegetmeier,  a  London 
journalist,  reports  10,053  m.  covered  in  '83,  and  46,600  ra.  in  13  years,  531-3.     H.  R.  Reynolds, 
jr.,  an  Oxford  graduate  of  *8o  and  a  lawyer,  rides  55,930  m.  in  9  years,  chiefly  as  an  economical 
way  of  getting  about,  533.    "  Faed,*'  a  wood-engraver,  deaf  and  near*sighted,  enjoys  a  daily 
open-air  spin  for  3  years,  with  only  75  exceptions,  and  makes  a  total  of  19,388  m.,  534-5-     H.  R. 
Goodwin,  a  Manchester  jeweler,  takes  a  19  days*  tour  of  2054  m.,  535-7.     J.  W.  M.  Brown,  a 
Lincolnshire  farmer,  rolls  up  53,343  m.  in  a  decade,  537-8.     H.  J.  Jones,  of  the  Haverstock  C. 
C,  covers  3600  m.  of  separate  road,  in  a  3  years'  record  of  16,016  m.,  538-40.    Alfred  Hayes,  a 
London  leather-dealer,  reports  30,000  m.  in  9  years,  incl.  15,000  m.  on  a  single  46-in.  bicycle  and 
more  than  160  successive  Sunday  rides,  540-1.     R.  P.  Hampton  Roberts's  16,060  ra.  of  wheeling 
in  7  years,  tabulated  by  months  and  supplemented  by  other  mileage  records  of  the  Belsiae  B.  C, 
541-3.      Reports  from  H.  T.  Wharlow,  23,325  m.  in  6^  years;   C.  W.  Brown,  17,043  ra.  in  4 
years;  and  W.  Binns,  a  Salford  draper,  22,147  m.  in  6J  years,  543.     Monthly  table  of  12  years' 
riding,  40,319  ra.,  by  Rev.  H.  C.  Courtney,  Vicar  of  Hatton,  544.   Seven  years'  record,  20,700  m  , 
by  J.  S.  Whatton,  ex-capt.  Camb.   Univ.  B.  C,  544.     F.  Salsbury's  36  monthly  tables  of 
'7.499  nt.  in  *82-'84,  544-5.     "Average  accounts  "  from  F.  W.  Brock,  of  Bristol,  and  G.  H, 
Rushworth,  of  Bradford,  545.     Inexpensive  iioo  m.  tour  in  '85  of  a  Glasgow  University  grad- 
uate, Hugh  Callan,  who  won  the  TU  Bits  prize  of  $250  in  '86,  for  best  story  of  cycling  experi* 
enoes,  and  who  intends  to  print  a  book  about  them,  545-6.     Diary  for  a  decade,  14,107m.,  of  an 
Irish  country  gentleman,  Wm.  Bowles,  546.      H.   Etherington,  projector  and  proprietor  of 
Wkeelingy  546-8  (see  also  689-90).     H.  Sturmey,  editor  of  the  Cyclist^  548-9  (see  also  690-2).    A. 
M.  Bohon.  author  of  "  Over  the  Pyrenees,"  549.    C.  Howard  and  R.  E.  Phillips,  compilers  of 
route-books,  550.    G.  L.  Bridgman,  S.  Golder  and  G.  T.  Stevens,  551.    Tour  in  '83,  London  to 
Pesth,  of  Ivan  Zmertych,  a  young  Magyar,  551.     Hugo  Barlhol's  circuit  of  2750  m.,  June  8  to 
Aug.  31,  '84,  Saxony  to  Naples  and  back,  551-2.     Road-riding  reports  from  France,  Holland 
and  Hungary,  552-3,  558.     Fadle-medal  riders  of  '84,  553.     Liverpool  long-distance  men  of  '85, 
553.     Notable  rides  in  '85  by  C.  H.  R.  Gossett,  Mrs.  J.  H.  Allen,  and  others,  554.     London- 
to-Bath  annual  winners,  '77  to  '85,  554.     Record  of  tours  and  races  to  and  from  John  O'Groat's, 
'73  to  *86,  554-7.    Wonderful  cross-cnuntry  wheeling  by  G.  P.  Mills,  556-8.    DanieKs  long  tri. 
ride  in  France,  55S.     AUSTRALASIAN   REPORTS,  668-670 :    Day's  rides  of  xoom.  in 
Victoria,  558-9.    Toun  of  the  Melbourne  B.  C,  '79  to  '84,  560.     Tours  by  Adelakle  and  Ba!- 
larat  club-men,  '84  and  '85,  560-1.    W.  Hume's  circuit  of  530  m.  in  '83  and  straightaway  of 
583  ro.,  to  Sydney,  in  '84,  561.    Day's  rides  of  100  m.,  to  close  of  '84,  561-2.    Tri.  tours  in  '85 
by  young  ladies  of  BaUarat  and  Stawell,  562.   G.  R.  Broadbent,  a  grandfather,  wheels  17,600  m. 
in  3  years,  562.    R.  O.  Bishop's  3  yeiairs'  record  of  13,352  m.  in  Victoria  and  Tasmania,  563. 
Mileage  of  T.  F.  Hallam,  P.  J.  Bowen,  and  other  riders  of  Hobart,  563-4.    J.  Copland's  '84 
tri.  tour  of  12S2  m.,  Sydney  to  Melbourne  and  back,  564-5.     S.  to  M.  bi.  rides  by  A.  Edwards, 
G.  L.   Biidds  and  J.  F.  Rugg,  565-6.     The  longest  straightaway  trail  in  Australia,  670  m., 
Stawell  to  Sydney,  made  in  Mar.,  '86,  by  M.  Thomfeldt  and  C.   H.  Lyne,  56546.     New 
Zealand's  advantages  for  cycling,  566-7,  570  (see  also  652).     J.  F.  Norris's  account  of  242  m. 
tour  in  '82,  and  of  100  m.  riders  in  '84,  567.    J.  Fitton's  700  m.  tour  at  the  close  of  '83,  567-8. 
Long  rides  from  Christchurch  by  H.  J.  Jenkins  and  F.  W.  Painter,  568-9.     W.  H.  Lang* 
down's  12  months'  record  of  8940  m.  on  a  single  bicycle,  including  a  tour  of  558  m.  in  the 
autumn  of  '85,  569-70.    Guide-books  for  the  Antipodes,  570  (see  also  695-6).     Conclusion  of  T. 

Stevens's  round-the-world  tour  :    Persia,  Afghanistan,  laiK'  ''**■• •*  Japan,  Mar.  to  Dec, 

*86,  570-a.    (Pp.  53o>5)  were  electrot)rped  in  Feb..  '*"  op.  570-2  in  Jan., 


xviii        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

^1  \  S7i35o  words,  incl.  only  300  of  coarse  type.     First  3  pp.,  in  Outings  Aug.,  '84 ;   last  3  pp. 
in  Wfuelmtn's  GazetU,  Feb.,  '87.) 

XXXIII.  SUMMARY  BY  STATES,  678-590:  Maine  index,  573.  F.  A  ElweU's 
Kennebec  and  Moosehead  Lake  parties  of  '34-5,  5;j-4-  W.  B.  Page's  '86  tour,  574-5.  Guides 
and  maps,  575.  New  Hampshire  index,  575.  Various  tourists'  reports  of  wheeling  in  the 
White  Mtns.,  '8i  to  '86,  575-7.  Guides  and  maps,  577.  Vermont  index,  578.  Various  reports 
from  the  Green  Mtns.,  Conn.  Valley  and  Lake  Charaplain,  578-9.  Massachusetts  index,  579. 
My  latest  explorations  around  Springfield,  at  end  of  '86,  579-80.  Reference-books,  581.  Rhode 
Island  and  Connecticut  indexes,  581.  My '86  ride  across  Conn.,  with  other  reports,  581-2. 
New  York  index,  582.  Corrections  and  changes  for  the  Kingsbridge  region,  582-3.  New 
ferries  and  r.  r.  lines,  583-4.  "  Long  Island  Road-Book, "  584.  Latest  reports  about  Central 
Park  and  Prospect  Park,  585-6.  Club-house  changes,  586.  Palisades  route  to  Nyack,  and 
good  road  thence  to  Suffem  and  Port  Jervis,  586-7.  Chautauqua  Lake  and  Buffalo,  587-8. 
New  Jersey  index,  588.  Recommendation  of  East  Orange  as  a  pleasant  place  for  ladies'  lessons 
in  tricycling,  588.  Best  routes  between  Newark  and  New  York,  588-9.  Pennsylvania,  Dela- 
ware and  Maryland  indexes,  589.  District  of  Columbia,  Virginia  and  Kentucky  indexes,  590. 
Scheme  for  a  straightaway  race  through  the  Shenandoah,  590.  Kentucky  routes  by  P.  N. 
Myers,  590.  Time  and  space  cut  short  my  roll  of  States,  590.  (Written,  Nov.  22  to  Dec.  31, 
'86.  Electro,  in  Dec,  '86,  and  Jan.,  '87 ;  16,000  words,  inch  only  300  of  coarse  type.  See  p.  710.) 

XXXIY.  THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX,  691-600:  Important  distinction  be- 
tween  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  baggage,  591.  Power  of  each  individual  tourist  to  resist  an  extra-baggage 
tax  on  water-routes,  591.  S.  s.  lines  pledged  by  me  to  the  free-list,  592.  League's  arrange- 
ments with  a  few  s.  s.  agents,  593.  Scheme  of  r.  r.  trunk  lines  granting  concessions  to  League, 
594.  Alphabetical  lists  of  r.  r.'s  which  seek  the  patronage  of  bicyclers,  594.  Rules  and  limits 
for  handling  bicycles  on  r.  r.  trains,  595.  Tariff-charging  roads,  596.  Liberal  policy  of  South- 
em  lines,  597.  Free  carriage  in  Canada,  598.  C.  T.  C.  table  of  r.  r.  rates  in  Great  Britain,  598. 
Practices  of  the  British  s.  s.  lines,  home  and  foreign,  599.  Customs  regulations  of  France, 
Switzerland,  Germany,  Belgium,  Holland,  Italy,  Mexico,  Canada  and  the  U.  S.,  599-600. 
(Electro,  in  July,  '86;  8900  words,  incl.  only  50  of  coarse  type.) 

XXXT.  THE  HOTEL  QUESTION,  601-614 :  My  hatred  of  the  bed-bug  and  hum- 
bug  policy  called  "reduced  rates,"  601.  Testimony  of  Wheelings  Bi.  World  and  others 
against  the  C.  T.  C.'s  cheap  device  for  securing  cold  victuals  and  contempt,  602,  604.  A  plea 
for  League  influence  in  raising  the  standard  of  country  taverns,  603.  The  special  comforts  and 
privileges  needed  by  touring  wheelmen,  602,  604,  606,  614.  Landlords'  estimate  of  patrons  who 
ask  for  "  the  leavings,"  605.  A  reformed  formula  for  hotel  certificate,  605.  Distinction  between 
city  and  country  hostelries,  606.  "  Special  rates  "  proper  for  special  occasions  only,  607. 
Analysis  of  the  "C.  T.  C.  tariff "  for  Great  Britain  and  France,  607.  Proof  that  it  is  more 
expensive  than  the  standard  $2  rate  of  America,  608.  California's  certificate  against  "  League 
hoteb,"  609.  List  of  towns  whose  hotel-keepers  (146)  have  subscribed  for  this  book,  609.  Rea- 
sons why  it  should  be  kept  for  consultation  in  the  hotel-offices  of  as  many  towns  as  possible,  610. 
Restaurants  and  lodging-places  in  New  York  City,  611.  Index  to  hotels  named  in  this  book, 
612.  A  plea  for  quiet  bed-rooms  and  portable  bath-tubs,  614.  (Electro,  in  July,  '86;  12,000 
words.    See  later  testimony  against  the  '*  danger-board  hotels  "  of  the  C.  T.  C,  pp.  639-41.) 

XXXTI.  THE  LE.AGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN,  616-688:  Organized 
at  Newport,  May  31,  'So,  to  protect  cyclers'  rights  upon  the  road,  615.  Badges,  6 16. '  Annual 
meetings;  '8x  to  '86,  616-18.  Geographical  statistics  of  membership,  617-18.  Evolution  of 
L.  A.  W.  Bulletin  irom  Bi.  Worlds  Wheel kcA  amateur  gazette,  618-20.  Facts  and  opinions 
about  this  official  weekly,  620.  Two  chief  arguments  for  the  attraction  of  members,  62 1.  Sum- 
mary of  constitution,  622-4.  Form  of  application  for  membership,  including  the  definition  of 
"  amateur,"  624.  Road-books  published  by  the  State  Divisions,  625.  Pamphlet  issues  of  the 
League,  625.  Local  election  reform  by  the  New  York  Division,  626.  Seven  annual  boards  of 
executive  officers,  1880-87,  626.  Committeemen  and  State  officers  in  service  Oct.  30,  '86,  627. 
Expulsion  of  all  the  swift  racers  for  offending  against  "  amateurism,"  628.    Powerlessness  of 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  xix 

the  wheel  and  sporting  press,  630.  Abolition  of  "  amateurism  "  needed  before  racers  can  be 
classed  on  their  merits,  630,  633.  MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS,  681-68.  "Ameri- 
can Cyclists'  Union"  formed,  to  help  the  Springfield  tournament,  631.  Definitions  and  road- 
racing  rules,  632.  Failure  of  its  "  promateur  plan  "  and  of  its  attempts  against  the  League,  633. 
*'  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association,"  633-6.  Membership  statistics  of  the  English  "  Cyclists' 
Touring  Club,"  636.  Summary  of  its  governing  rules,  637.  Uniform  and  badges,  639.  Suf- 
ferers* testimony  against  its  "  daitger-board  hotels,"  639.  Financial  standing  as  a  "  co-operative 
tailoring  concern,"  641.  Its  social  status  in  America,  642.  Alphabetical  list  of  its  councilors, 
in  Apr.,  '86,  645.  Local  and  general  officers  of  the  English  "  National  Cyclists*  Union,"  '84 
and  *86,  646.  Objects  and  mode  of  government,  647.  Financial  dilemma  caused  by  "  amateur- 
ism," 64S.  Unanswerable  logic  of  the  abolitionists,  649.  Publications,  library,  medal  and 
danger-boards,  650,  Wheelmen's  unions  in  Germany,  Holland,  Belgium,  France,  Switzerland, 
New  Zealand,  Australia  and  Ireland,  651-2.  (Electro,  in  Nov.,  '86;  34,800  words.  First  part, 
from  "Wheelmen's  Reference  Book,"  pub.  May,  '86.    See  pp.  593-9,  677,  691.) 

XXXTU.  LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  658-700:  Argument  for  the  free 
advertising  of  all  books  and  papers  devoted  to  cycling,  653.  List  of  American  and  English 
journals,  Aug.  i,  '86, 654.  American  books  and  pamphlets  in  the  market,  Aug.  i,  '86,  655.  Atn. 
BLJournal^  IVkeeiman  and  the  less-distinguished  dead  of  the  journalistic  cemetery,  655-60. 
American  Cycling  Press  in  Aug.,  '86,  661-72.  Detailed  account  of  books,  pamphlets  and  other 
advertising  prints  in  America,  673-80.  English  books,  maps  and  papers,  681-88.  British  and 
Australian  journalism,  6S8-96.  Continental  publications,  697-700.  General  guides,  700.  (Electro, 
in  Anjr.  and  Sept.,  '86,  with  corrections  in  Dec. ;  42,750  words.    See  pp.  xciv.,  710.) 

XXXYIII.  THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT,  701-788:  Explanation 
and  warning,  701.  Unique  pecuniary  ideal,  701.  Germ  and  conception,  702.  Early  notions 
and  influences,  702.  Arrangement  with  Col.  Pope,  703.  Moral  support  of  prospectus,  703.  A 
prophecy  from  Boston,  704.  How  "  300  "  fixed  me  for  "  3000,"  704.  Success  of  preliminary 
canvass,  705.  Formal  promise  to  finish,  705.  Attraction  of  English  patrons,  706.  Gaxeite 
help  at  Springfield,  706.  Defense  of  the  WfueVs  free  adv.,  707.  Press  encouragement  at  Bos- 
ton and  elsewhere,  707.  Ineffectiveness  of  "  newspaper  talk,"  708.  Indi£Ference  of  "  the 
trade,"  709.  •  Progress  in  writing  and  elect rotyping,  710.  Work  of  the  Springfield  Printing  Co., 
710.  Col.  Pope's  reply  to  second  proposal,  711.  Condemnation  from  competent  judges,  711. 
Harmlessness  of  my  "Columbia"  adv.,  712.  Independence  of  all  Popes  and  powers,  713. 
Objections  to  gift-taking,  713.  Need  of  private  help  and  criticisms,  714.  Costs  and  conditions 
of  road-book  making,  715.  Proposals  for  "  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  716.  Request  for  per- 
sonal statistics,  717.  Hints  to  authors  and  publishers,  718.  The  cycling  press  and  its  "  free 
adv.,"  718.  The  doctrine  of  intelligent  selfishness,  719.  How  I  got  leisure  for  touring,  720. 
World  experiences  as  a  non-competitor,  721.  Elective  honors  of  college,  722.  Illustrations 
from  genealogy,  722.  Preference  for  small  and  special  tasks,  723.  Involved  beyond  my  wishes, 
724.  Anecdote  of  Gen.  Grant,  724.  Delay  and  worry  caused  by  "  side-issues,"  725.  A  polit- 
ical interruption,  726.  The  range  of  my  acquaintance,  726.  "  Literary  "  types  and  comparisons, 
727.  The  significance  of  "  society,"  728.  My  personal  relations  with  cyclers,  729.  Sincerity 
and  its  compensations,  730.  The  pleasures  of  speaking  squarely,  731.  Chances  on  the  down- 
grade, 732.  Straight  words  for  the  finish,  733.  (Written  in  Sept.  and  electrotyped  in  Oct.,  '86 ; 
19,400  words.    Special  ed.  of  500  copies  printed  Dec.  3.     See  p.  710.) 

XXXIX.  THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS,  784-764:  Alphabetical 
fist  of  3196  "  copartners  "  in  the  publication  of  this  book  :  A,  734 ;  B,  735 ;  C,  738;  D,  741 ; 
E,  742;  F,  743;  G,  744;  H,  745;  I,  J,  748;  K,  749;  L,  750;  M,  751;  N,  O,  P,  754;  R,  7S6; 
S,  757;  T,  760;  U,  V,  761 ;  W,  762  ;  Y,  Z,  764.  My  "prospectus  of  Dec.  3,  '83,"  was  first 
published  in  the  Wheel  oi  Jan.  25,  '84  ;  and  my  first  1000  subscribers  were  enrolled  on  Apr.  9 
(74  days  later),  2000  on  Oct.  18  (38  weeks),  and  3000  on  July  4,  '85  (75  weeks).  On  the  last  day 
of  Feb.,  '84,  which  was  5  weeks  from  the  opening  of  the  canvass,  the  sub.  list  stood  at  599 ;  and 
its  monthly  growth  from  that  point  may  be  shown  as  follows  :  Mar.,  273—872  ;  Apr.,  281 — 
1153;  May,  193—1346;  June,  85— 1431;  July,  1x3—1544;  Aug.,  257—1801;  Sept.,  147—1948; 


TEX  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Oct.,6s— «>»3  :  Xor.,8j — 2095;  Dec.,  177 — 1272;  Jan.,  tta — 23^;  Feb.,  113 — ^2497;  Mar., 
149—2646;  Apr.,  139— 2/S7;  May,  101—2888;  J  one,  87 — 2975;  July,  128 — ^3103;  Aug.,  46 — 
3149;  Sepc,  43—31/2;  Oa-,  37— 3229;  Not.,  35— 3264;  Dee,  54— 331S;  Jan.,  39— 3357; 
Fs'j..  25 — 33.S2 ;  Mar.,  36—3418 ;  Apr.,  108 — 3526.  From  May  i  to  Dec.  31,  '86,  there  were  50 
acceaA}V>r.«,  ax  5'-9>r  raising  the  total  of  the  "autograph  edition  ''  to  3576.  (Electro,  in  Feb., 
'36 ;  abr^x  19,000  words.     See  pp.  794-6,  for  supplementary  list  of  200  names.) 

XL.  DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN,  7«9-799.:  Names  of  3200  subscribcfs. 
g">  i^e^  according  to  residenoe-towms,  which  are  alphabetized  by  States,  in  the  following  geo> 
g'aph'cil  order :  Mc,  15  towns,  45  subscribers,  765  ;  N.  H.,  14  L,  50  s.,  766 :  Vt.,  14 1.,  47  s., 
7S6;  Mats.,  89 1,  341  s.,  766;  R-  I-,  5  t.,  20  s.,  769;  Ci.,  32  t.,  171  s.,  769;  N.  Y.,  106 1.,  671 
%  ,  770;  N.  J.,  55  L,  257  s.,  776;  Pa.,  96  t.,  382  5.,  778 ;  Del.,  2  t.,  4  s.,  781 ;  Md.,  8  t.,  81  s., 
781 ;  Di-it.  of  Col.,  2  t.,  37  s.,  782 ;  W.  Va.,  4  t.,  6  s,,  7S2 ;  Va.,  10  t.,  17  s.,  782  ;  N.  C,  2  t., 
6  %  ,  782  ;  S.  C,  2  L,  4  s.,  7S2;  Ga.,  4  t.,  11  s.,  7S2  ;  Fla.,  a  t.,2  s.,  783  ;  Ala.,  4  t.,  12  s.,  783  ; 
Miss.,  3  t.,  4  s.,  783  ;  La.,  1  t.,  5  s.,  783 ;  Tex.,  6  L,  9  s.,  783  ;  Ark.,  2  t.,  7  s.,  783 ;  Tenn.,  3  t., 
26  •.,  783 ;  Ky.,  15  t.,  53  s.,  783  ;  O.,  48  t.,  154  s.,  784  ;  Mich.,  21  t.,  66  s,,  785 ;  Ind.,  21  t,  60 
».,  785 ;  LI.,  25  t-,  116  5.,  786-7 ;  Mo.,  8  t.,  25  s.,  787  ;  la.,  14  t.,  20  s.,  7S7 ;  Wis^,  11 1.,  16  s., 
787 ;  Minn.,  13  t.,  22  s.,  787 ;  Dak.,  3  t,  5  s.,  788 ;  Neb.,  2  t.,  2  s.,  78S  ;  Kan.,  14  L,  21  s.,  788 ; 
(Ind.  Ter.,  o);  N.  Mex.,  i  t.,  i  s.,  788 ;  Col.,  4  t.,  9  s.,  788  ;  Wy.,  3  t.,  9  s.,  78S  ;  Mon.,  3  t., 
6  *.,  78S  ;  Id.,  2  t.,  14  s,,  78S ;  Wash.,  3  t,  3  s.,  78S ;  Or.,  8  t.,  28  s.,  788 ;  Utah,  2  t.,  7  s.,  788  ; 
(Ner.,  o  t.,os.,  789) ;  Ariz.,  i  t.,  i  s.,  789 ;  Cal.,  9 1.,  22  s.,  7S9 ;  Ontario,  21  L,  79  s.,  789 ;  Mani- 
toba, I  t.,  I  s.,  790;  (Quebec,  i  t.,  5  s.,  790;  New  Brunswick,  2  t.,  6  s.,  790;  Nova  Scotia,  9  t., 
37  s.,  790;  Bermuda,  3  t.,  5  s.,  790;  Mexico,  i  t.,  i  s.,  790;  England,  61  t.,  138  s.,  790;  Scot- 
laiMi,  6  t.,  12  s.,  792 ;  Ireland,  5  t.,  7  s.,  792 ;  Continental  Europe,  9  t.,  9  s.,  792 ;  Asia,  4  t., 
4  s.,  792  ;  Australia,  12 1.,  86  s.,  793  ;  New  Zealand,  5  t.,  24  s.,  794.  Suppiemeniary  List  0/ 
Subscribers  (Feb.  to  Nov.,  '86),  794-6.  Trade  Directory :  Alphabetical  list  of  122  subscribers 
in  whose  oflaces  this  book  may  be  consulted,  796-7.  Geographical  list  of  the  same,  798-9. 
(Electro.  March  to  May,  '86,  except  last  six  pages  in  Nov. ;  22,000  words.) 

XLI.  THE  L.4ST  WORD,  800:  Pinaforic  chant  at  the  League's  first  annual  ban- 
quet, Newport,  May  31,  '80.    (Electro,  in  Nov.,  '86;  100  .words.) 

A  summing-up  of  the  estimates  for  the  41  chapters  shows  a  total  of  585,400  words,  whereof 
362,400  are  in  fine  tjrpe  ("  nonpareil  ")  and  223,000  in  larger  type  ("  brevier  ").  1  have  esti- 
mated the  latter  at  600  words  to  the  page  (44  lines  of  14  w^ords  each),  and  the  nonpareil  at  900 
words  to  the  page  (53  lines  of  17  words  each),  except  that  the  66  pages  devoted  to  subscribers' 
names  have  been  credited  with  18,400  words  less  than  the  latter  estimate  would  give  them. 
The  half-dozen  blank  lines  at  the  top  of  each  chapter,  and  the  short  blanks  at  ends  of  para- 
graphs, are  fully  offset  by  the  repetitions  of  chapter-titles  at  the  tops  of  pages.  Owing  to  the 
great  number  of  abbreviations  in  last  ten  chapters,  I  think  their  number  of  nonpareil  words  ex- 
ceeds the  estimate, — for  my  actual  count  of  p.  497  revealed  1088  words.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  brevier  words  may  fall  a  trifle  short  of  the  estimate, — for  actual  count  of  p.  35S  revealed  only 
573-  ^f  y  printers  have  charged  me  with  372  brevier  pages ;  and  a  multiplication  of  that  num- 
ber by  600  shows  223,200  words,  or  almost  exactly  the  result  gained  by  adding  the  chapter  esti- 
mates. Of  the  311,600  words  in  first  29  chapters  (472  pp.),  all  but  92,600  are  in  brevier;  while, 
of  the  273,800  words  in  last  12  chapters  (328  pp.),  which  may  be  classed  as  an  appendix,  only 
4000  are  in  brevier.  My  own  road-reports  and  wheeling  experiences  are  almost  all  included  in 
the  181,000  brevier  words  of  the  first  26  chapters  (390  pp.),  which  also  contain  77,000  nonpareil 
words,  mostly  given  to  others'  reports  and  general  information.  In  Chaps.  30-33  (pp.  473-59°) 
are  104,850  words,  almost  wholly  given  to  others'  perronal  statistics ;  and  Chaps.  34-37  (PP-  59»- 
699)  contain  97*550  words  of  general  information.  Of  the  273,800  words  in  last  12  chapters,  the 
29,400  in  Chap.  38  are  the  only  ones  personal  to  myself.  Adding  these  to  the  6800  brevier 
words  of  Chap.  27,  and  the  181,000  before  specified,  gives  a  total  of  217,200  words  which  refer 
in  some  way  to  my  own  wheeling.  Even  if  the  11,000  words  about  "Curl,"  and  the  20,000 
brevier  words  about  "  the  Castle,"  be  charged  to  me  as  *'  personal,"  my  entire  share  in  the  book 
rises  to  only  248,300  words,  which  is  much  less  than  half  its  text  (585,400). 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Chapter-Titles  are  printed  in  small  capitals  and  followed  by  Roman  numerals  referring 
to  Table  of  Contents,  where  full  analysis  of  chapter  may  be  found.  References  are  sometimes 
given  in  the  order  of  their  imporunce,  rather  than  in  numerical  order.  Such  States  of  the 
Union  as  are  not  named  here  are  indexed  among  "  The  United  States,"  p.  Iviil  Other  special 
indexes  are  made  prominent  by  full-faced  type. 


AbbreTiations  of  tlie  U.  S.,  with  index  for 
each  State,  Iviii. 

Abstinence  from  fire-water  and  tobacco,  Cases 
of,  62,  138,  53a,  537»  544. 

Accidents  {ue  "  Incidents  "). 

Address-list  of  a8,ooo  American  cyclers,  661. 

Advertising,  Exclusion  of  from  bqpk,  for  sake 
of)mpartiaIity»7i4;  specimens  of  calendars 
and  catalogues,  679 ;  rates  in  cycling  papers, 
656,  696.    (Sfe  "  Free  advertising.") 

After  Bbbr  (verses),  15. 

Agriculture  as  a  basis  of  prosperity,  301. 

Allegory  of  the  New  Year,  "1869,"  391. 

Alnwick  Castle,  Bone-shakers  at,  391,  404. 

**AjiUkteariS]n '*  as  defined  by  L.  A.  W., 
624,  633  ;  by  A.  C.  U.,  632  ;  by  C.  W.  A., 
635 ;  by  N.  C.  U.,  638.  Folly  of  attempted 
sodal  distinctions  in  racing,  shown  by 
IFkeeling^  and  J.  R.  Hogg,  6a8.  Expul- 
sion of  all  the  swift  racing  men  as  social  in> 
foriors,  629, 649.  Supporters  of  the  scheme 
satirized  by  the  London  At/,  650. 

''Amerioui  CycUstB'  Union" (A. 0.  U.)t 
628-33  :  Advent  of,  as  a  refuge  for  the 
League's  expelled  "  amateurs,"  631.  Con- 
stitution, officers  and  government,  631. 
Definitions  of  social  standing,  63a.  Scheme 
for  an  "  itttenia.tional  alliance  "  of  racing 
men,  633. 

American  Division  of  C.  T.  C,  636,  642-4. 

Anecdote  of  Gen.  Grant,  724. 

Answers  for  the  curious,  4. 

Architecture  of  Fifth  Avenue,  453 ;  of  the 
University  Building,  428-34. 

Aristocracy  in  America,  396,  448,  453. 

Artists  and  illustrations,  258,  268,  270,  271, 
279,  366,  390-1,  397,  407,  656-60,  662,  665- 
75,  679-80,  683-93. 

Asla»  T.  Stevens's  ride  across,  4803  >  57o-a- 

Asphalt  pavementSi  Superiority  of,  584,  588. 


Australia,  558-66  :  Books  and  papers,  570. 
"Cyclists'  Union,"  65a.  Journalism,  696. 
Road-races,  559-64.  Subscribers  to  book, 
558,  706,  793-4.    Touring,  560-6. 

Austria :  C.  T.  C.  Members,  636-7 ;  roads, 
481,  55»»  SSS- 

Authors  and  Books  quoted  by  me.  Index 
to,  Ixxvii. ;  Reciprocation  and  corrections 
asked  for,  718. 

Autobiographies  of  Wheelmen,  473-572  *> 
My  difficulties  in  procuring  them,  502-3 ; 
Index  to,  Ixxi.  Index  to  my  own  autobiog- 
raphy and  history  of  book,  Ixxix. 

Autumn  scenic  impressions  in  my  1400  m. 
tour,  299-305. 

"Average  man,"  My  attempts  to  report 
wheeling  of  and  for  the,  502,  531. 

Badges:  C.  T.  C,  639;  C.  W.  A.,  635; 
Central  Park,  94,  585  ;  L.  A.  W.,  616 ;  N. 
C.  U.,650. 

Baggage-<arrying,  13,  17,  308,  384. 

Baggagemen  :  awed  by  nickel-plate,  20 ;  Civil 
treatment  of,  597;  Fees  for,  86,  96,  221, 
596;  Remedy  for  extortion,  595,  598. 

Bags  objectionable  on  a  bicycle,  17. 

Bartlett's  (Gen.  W.  F.)  manly  message  of 
forgiveness  to  the  South,  386. 

Basaltic  columns  at  Orange,  174. 

Bates  (President),  on  political  power  of 
League,  621 ;  on  reform  of  League  govern- 
ment, 626 ;  on  racing  and  amateurism,  629, 
633.     Biography  of,  505-6. 

Bath-tubs  and  quiet  bed-rooms  in  country 
hotels,  A  plea  for,  614. 

Battlefields,  Monuments  and  Land- 
marks :  Annapolis,  285.  Antietam,  384. 
Bergen,  169.  Blue  Lick  Spring,  233.  Brook- 
lyn, 158.  Bun  Run,  375.  Centerville,  374. 
Clinton,  132.  Fisher's  Hill,  345, 383.  Forts 
Lee  and  Washington,  72.  Gettysburg,  385-6. 


XXll 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Goshen,  143.  Great  Bethel,  439.  Green- 
wich, 139.  Harper's  Ferry,  241,384.  Jer- 
sey City,  16S.  Lake  George,  185-7.  Leete's 
Island,  132.  Lexington,  103,  386.  Morris- 
town,  163.  Newburg,  171.  New  York,  158. 
Perryville,  228.  Saratoga,  186.  Sharps* 
burg,  384.  Sheffield,  147.  South  Mount- 
ain, 238.  Springfield,  127.  Staten  Island, 
158.  Tarry  town,  76.  Ticonderoga,  186. 
West  Springfield,  127.  White  Plains,  74. 
Winchester,  345,  383.  Wyoming,  220. 
Yonkers,  78. 

Bays  and  Qnlfs,  Index  to,  Ixi. 

Bed-bugs  at  the  "  danger-board  hotels  of  the 
C.  T.  C,"  639-41  ;  at  the  Maryland  canal 
house,  239 ;  in  Australia,  $66. 

Bed-rooms,  Sunlight,  quiet,  good  air  and  bath- 
tubs wanted  for,  602,  612,  614. 

Beginners,  Books  of  advice  for,  678. 

Belgium :  C.  T.  C.  members,  656.  Cycling 
Union,  651,  700.  Free  entry  for  cycles,  599. 
Journals,  699.    Tours,  522,  546,  549. 

Belts,  My  dislike  of,  18,  22. 

Bermuda,  The  Coral  Rbbps  of,  353-70, 
xiv.,  592,  790. 

BicycleSt  Index  to  makes  of,  Ixxviii. 

Bicycling :  as  a  bridge  to  social  intercourse, 
5,  14,  729;  as  a  chance  for  character-study, 
3,  5,  10,  20,  729;  as  a  cure  for  malaria, 
292,  308 ;  as  an  introduction-card,  14,  730 ; 
as  a  solace  for  the  solitary,  14, 34,  255, 309, 
729 ;  as  a  source  of  health,  53,  258, 278, 295, 
537,  565, 685-6,  688 ;  as  a  token  of  sincerity, 
14,  701,  729.  Business  advantages  of,  501, 
5<>7i  510,  524,  528.  Cost  of  four  years,  41. 
Elation  in  long-distance  riding,  303.  Enthu- 
siasm for.  Unique  power  of  the,  vi.,  484,  705. 
Freedom,  the  distinctive  charm  of,  255,  472. 
Gracefulness  of,  6. 

Biographies,  Index  to  contributors',  IxxL 

Birthday  Fantasib  (verse),  22. 

Birthdays,  Index  to,  Ixxi.  Request,  for, 
717-8. 

Blue  Ridge  in  a  thunder-storm.  My  four-4nile 
descent  of  the,  38a 

Boat-race  management  at  New  London,  130. 

Bonb-Shakbr  Days,  391-406, xiv.,  523,541, 

543,  547- 
Book  of  Minb,  akd  thb  Nbxt  (This), 

701-331,  xix.,  Ixxxi. 
Books  and  Pamphlets  on  Cycling:  Lists 

of  American,  in  the  market  Aug.   i,  '86, 

655.     Descriptions  and  reviews  of,  673-80. 


Continental  publications,  696-700.  English 
books  and  maps,  6S1-8.  Record-keeping, 
Blanks  for,  676-7.  Index  to  all  the  fore- 
going, Ixxiv.  Index  to  authors,  publishers 
and  printers  of  the  same,  Ixxvi. 

Books  quoted  or  referred  to  by  me.  Index  to 
non-cycling,  Ixxvi. ;  index  to  authors  of  the 
same,  Ixxvii. 

Boots  and  shoes,  18,  21. 

Boston,  Out  from,  101-114,  x.  :  Books  and 
papers  of  cycling,  654-9,  663-5,  673-80. 
Clubs,  105,  767,  793.  Hoteb  and  horse- 
cars,  105.  Indifference  to  my  subscription 
scheme,  704,  708.  Irish  sea-coast  settle- 
ment, 372.  Landmarks,  105-6.  League 
parades  at,  371,  616,  6t8.  Maps  and 
guides,  1 12-13.  Pemberton  and  Scollay 
squares  contrasted,  104-5.  Police  ineflSr 
dency  at,  371,  616.  Prince-of- Wales  pro- 
cession, 4fr.  Road-book,  III,  677.  Scene 
of  my  teaming  the  bi.  (March  28,  1879),  25. 

Breeches  vs.  trousers  as  an  "  extra,"  17,  23. 

Bridges,  Bicycling  on  the  big,  87,  203,  225. 

Bristed's  (C.  A.)  admirable  defense  of  indi- 
vidual freedom,  727-8. 

British  and  Colonial  Records,  531-72, 
xvii. 

Brokerage  in  the  New  York  Custom  House 
explained  in  detail,  369-9. 

Brooklyn:  Clubs,  97,  586;  Ferries,  87-8, 
97  ;  Prospect  Park,  89,  92,  585  ;  Routes  to 
and  through,  86-90. 

Bugle  calls  and  tactics.  Books  on,  679. 

Bull  Run,  Luray  Cavern  and  Gettys- 
burg, 371-90,  xiv.,  348,  350-1. 

California:  Danger  signal  against  League 
hotels  in,  609.  League  road-book  of,  625, 
799.  Touring  routes,  475-6,  489-94.  Wel- 
come to  T.  Stevens,  572. 

Camel-trails  in  Asia,  480. 

Campobello,  Our  afternoon  on,  270. 

Canada,  My  Fortnight  in,  310-32,  xiii.: 
A.  C.  U.'s  claim  to,  631.  Cursed  by  cheap 
hotels,  603,  320.  Deplorable  customs  regu- 
lations, 311,  324,  575.  New  Brunswick 
references,  265,  270, 274,  790.  Nova  Scotia 
touring,  282-94.  Prince  Edward  Island, 
290.  Quebec  to  Montreal,  575.  Subscrib- 
ers to  this  book,  789-90.  Superiority  of 
roads,  297.  Support  of  C.  T.  C,  636-7. 
Tameness  of  scenery,  301. 

"Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association"  (C. 
W.  A.),  633-636  :  Badge  and  motto,  635 ; 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


XXIU 


Constitution  and  government,  634 ;  DefiniF 
tions  of  social  status,  635;  Finances  and 
membersliip,  635 ;  Founders,  634 ;  Monthly 
organ,  635,  659, 669-70;  Road-book,  3>5-«9i 
326-7,  330,  636,  677.  Railroads  on  Iree 
lists^59S. 

Canals.  Index  to,  bciv.    {JSet  "  Tow-path.") 

Castlb  SoutuAb  in  thb  Mbtkopous 
(1.  e.t  the  University  Building),  42^73|  xv. 

Cats'  treatment  by  dogs,  409,  416,  425. 

Cemeteries,  Index  to,  Ixiv. 

Charm  of  bicycling,  iv.,  i,  14,  473,  729. 

Cheap  and  nasty  hotel-s]n»tem  not  economical, 
606;  condemned  by  C.T.C.  8ufferers,639-4o. 

dergjn&en:  Air  of  condescension,  727. 
Prizes  for  essays  on  wheeling,  658.  Rela- 
tionship to  college  foundations,  435.  Tour 
in  Canada,  323-4 ;  in  Europe,  499.  Veloci- 
pedists  in  '69, 391,  403.    Wheeling  reports, 

378.  S«a.  544,  564. 

Clothes,  13,  16-22,  307-8,  475i  485*  494f  So8» 
546,  537,  55».  565. 

Clubs  (index,  Ixiii.)  :  Directory  of  Ameri- 
can, 765-90.  Drill  books  for,  679.  Goy's 
Directory  to  English,  688.  Formation  of 
proves  the  sociability  of  cycling,  14.  Houses 
in  Baltimore,  590 ;  Boston,  105,  767  ;  New 
York  and  Brooklyn,  96-7,  586;  Philadel- 
phia, 589;  St.  Louis,  652  ;  Washington,59o. 

Coaching  on  the  old  National  Pike,  243 ;  as 
imitated  on  the  tally-ho,  iv.,  281,  396. 

Coasting  on  thb  Jbrsbv  Hills,  159-78,  xi. 

CoUeget  (index,  Ixii.),  as  abodes  of  the  only 
real  aristocracy  in  America,  396 ;  Conduct 
of  youth  at  N.  Y.  U.,  429;  Endowments, 
435-7 «  Finances  of,  437 ;  Newspaper  treat- 
ment of,  397 ;  Religious  control  of,  435. 

Odumbia  College,  References  to,  131,  216, 

43^7- 
"Columbia,  No.  234,"  35-48,  x. :  Axle,  37, 
40,  45,  46.  Backbone,  39,  40,  43.  Bear- 
ings, 37,  40,  42.  Brake,  40,  42.  Bushing, 
40.  Cam-bolts,  40.  Cranks,  36,  40,  46. 
Handle-bar,  43,  45,  46,  306.  Head,  43. 
Hub,  40.  Mileage  memorial  placard,  48. 
Nedc,  38,  40.  Nickeling,  38,  40,  43.  Oil 
cup*»  37>  Overlapping,  43.  Pedal-pins, 
45,  47.  Pedals,  37,  47.  Rawhide  bearings, 
43,  336.  "  Rebuilding  "  plans  abandoned, 
47.  Repairs,  Cost  of,  41.  Rims,  45,  46, 350. 
Saddles,  37,  45-  Spokes,  38,  4Sf  46,  350. 
Spring,  37,  43.  Step,  39.  Tires,  36, 37, 38, 
47,  48.    Wrecked  by  runaway  mules,  44. 


Concieige  in  Paris,  Tyranny  of  the,  458. 
Connecticut,  Shorb  and  Hill-top  in,  ia9> 

149,  xi.,  348-54  (index,  581)  ;  League  road> 

book  of,  625;   {S*»  "  New  Haven,"  "  Yak 

College.") 
Contbnts-Tablb,  ix.-xx. 
Contrasts  between  bicycling  and  other  modes 

of  long-distance  travel,  303. 
Contributors'  Becords,   Index  to,  bod. ; 

Rules  for,  717. 
Convicts  as  road-builders,  355,  563. 
Corduroy,  Praise  of,  19,  21,  307. 
Costumes  for  touring,  16-22,  307-8,  475,  485, 

494,  508,  537.  55»,  565- 

Creeks  snd  Brooks,  Index  to,  Ixi. 

Curl,  thb  Bbstof  Bull-Dogs,  407-35,  xv. ; 
Allusions  to,  305,  393,  471 ;  Photo-gravure 
of  (facing  title-page). 

Custom-House  rules  as  to  cycles :  Bel- 
gium, free  entry  ordered  Feb.  6,  '84,  599. 
Bermuda,  discretionary,  358.  Canada,  pro- 
hibitory red-tape,  Aug.  5,  '81,  311.  France, 
varying  practice,  599, 600.  Germany,  vary- 
ing   practice,  599.     Holland,  free    entry, 

599.  Italy,  free  entry  ordered  June  16,  '85, 

600.  Mexico,  ten  cents  a  pound  gross 
weight,  600.  Switzerland,  varying  practice, 
591.  United  States,  free  entry  ordered  Apr. 
9,  '84,  370 ;  first  classed  as  carriage,  instead 
of  machinery,  May  29,  '77,  'S' 

Customs  officers,  Experiences  with,  282,  311, 
3^4,  333,  358,  368-70,  5»8,  575- 

"Cyclists*  Touring  Club"  of  England 
(C.  T.  C.)»  636^46  :  "Amateurism,"  Defi- 
nitions of,  638,  643.  American  support, 
636,  642-4 ;  allusions  to,  619.  Badges  and 
uniform,  639.  "  B.  T.  C."  as  first  named, 
615, 636,  644.  Bi.  WorlcPt  notices  of,  602-4, 
643-4.  Canada,  Slight  support  gnv^n  by, 
636,  643.  Chief  Consuls,  6j6,  645.  "  Co- 
operative tailoring  concern,"  641.  Coun- 
cil of  125  is  constituted,  How  the,  636-7. 
Councilors  in  Apr.,  '86,  List  of,  645. 
"  Creed"  of  L.  A.  W.  vs.  C.  T.  C,  644. 
Custom-House  reforms  attempted,  599, 600. 
Danger-board  hotels,  602-4,  639-41.  Dan- 
ger-boards, 643-4,  651.  Divisions,  Size  of 
the  37,  636.  Executive  power  all  lodged 
in  the  Secretary,  642.  Finance  committee, 
638.  Finances  in  the  U.  S.,643.  Finan- 
cial report  of  '85  analyzed,  641.  Foreign 
members,  "Amateurum"  of,  638.  Forgery 
confessed  in  court  by  the  Secretary- Editor, 


XXIV 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Ixxxix.  Gazeiie,  The  official,  641, 687, 691, 
bcxxix.  Government,  Abstract  of  seventy 
rules  for,  637-8.  Handbook,  682,  637,  687. 
Hotel  policy  denounced  by  Wfutlmg  and 
Bi.  Worlds  602-4,  641 ;  by  other  sufferers, 
639-40 ;  tariff  shown  in  detail,  607.  Humor- 
ous schemes  for  "a great  future  in  the  U. 
S.,"  643-4.  "  International "  pretensions, 
644.  League  tolerates  C  T.  C  in  U.  S. 
only  as  ^  social  sentiment,  64a,  644.  Life 
memberships,  644.  London  region  supplies 
a  third  of  the  membership,  636.  Maps,  68a. 
Meetings,  637, 642.  Membership  statistics, 
636.  Journalism  denounced,  by  the  pre- 
siding judge  of  a  London  law-court,  as 
"  the  lowest  and  vulgarest  abuse,"  xci. 
N.  C.  U.,  Affiliations  with,  638,  646,  648. 
Officers,  Election  of,  637 ;  in  U.  S.,  645 ; 
list  of  in  Apr.,  *86,  646.  Publications,  638, 
642,687-8,691.  Quorum,  642.  Railroads, 
Tariff  for,  598.  Renewal  list,  638,  688. 
Representative  Councilors,  636, 645.  Road- 
book promised  for  '87,  642, 687.  Secretary- 
Editor,  Appointment,  salary  and  duties  of, 
637-8 ;  autocratic  power  of,  642 ;  compla- 
cency of,  as  to  badges,  hotels  and  GaxetU, 
639, 641, 691 ;  portrait  gallery  of,  691 ;  repri- 
manded in  court  for  literary  forgery,  xci. 
State  consuls  in  America,  List  of,  643. 
Tailoring  and  trading  accounts,  64 1.  Tariff 
of  hotels,  607;  r.  r.'s.,  598.  Unimpor- 
tant allusions,  601-8,  615-16,  619,  665,  667, 
669,  681-88,  693-s,  699-700,  765.  Usurpa- 
tion of  League  functions  resented,  644. 
Voting  for  officers,  System  of,  637.  Weak- 
ness of  perambulatory  Council,  642.  IVkeel- 
tng^s  criticisms  of,  602,  639,  641.  Women 
members,  638. 

Cyclometers:  Butcher,  114,  127, 135,  147, 
322,  374.  482.  500.  506-8,  511,  517,  5«9-2i, 
524,  526,  528,  529,  530.  Church,  524.  Ex- 
celsior, 128,  138,  189,  508-1 1,  524,  528,  666, 
714.  Hemu,  546,  555.  Lakin,  378,  508, 
524,  526-8,  797,  799.  Lamson,  506.  Liv- 
ingston, 714.  McDonnell,  138,  149,  237, 
248,  325.  388,  484*  508,  509,  5«o»  5".  5»a» 
5»3,  5»5-7,  519-20.  524,  527-30,  553.  SH  575. 
714.  Pope,  24.  135.  508,  511,  5»3.  5»7.  520, 
523,  581.  Ritchie  Magnetic,  172,  507,  511, 
523.  Spalding,  499,  508.  Stanton,  508. 
Thompson,  517,  533.  Underwood,  508. 
Wealemefna,  533,  532. 

Distances,  "  U.  S.  Army  "  Table  of,  680. 


Delawiare  (index,  589). 

Denmark :  C.  T.  C.  members,  636-7. 

DiKBCTORY  OF  WhBBLMEN,  765-99,  XX. 

District  of  Colmnlila  (index,  590). 

Dog  as  a  companion  in  touring,  562,  565. 

Dogs,  Anecdotes  of,  in  biography  of  I  Curl, 
the  best  of  bull-dogs,"  407-25.  ^ 

Down-East  Fogs,  In  the*  xii.,  255-8^. 

Down-East  tours  of  '84-'85,  573-4. 

Drill  bo<^  for  bugle,  tactics  and  singing,  680. 

Electrotyping,  Dates  of,  ix.-xx.,  710. 

England  and  the  English,  444-8,  53^69, 
636-51,  688-96,  790-94.  "Amateurism" 
satirized  by  the  Bai,  650.  Aristocracy  in 
the  newspapers.  Treatment  of,  396.  Auto- 
biographies of  wheelmen,  531-45,  547-58. 
Book  of  bi.-tour  made  by  Americans  in 
'79. 673.  Books  and  pamphlets  on  cycling, 
681-S.  Class  distinctions,  446-7.  Conven- 
tional attempts  at  "  naturalness,"  448. 
Crystal  Palace  dog  show  of  '72,  405.  Cy- 
clists' Touring  Club,  636-46,  681  {see  spe- 
cial index,  "  C.  T.  C").  "  Danger-board 
hotels  of  C.  T.  C,"  Testimony  of  sufferers 
at,  604, 639^1.  Diet  of  tourists,  537,  544. 
Evolution  of  bicycle  from  bone-shaker,  402. 
Halifax  has  an  English  atmosphere,  292. 
Hogg's  (J.  R.)  exposure  of  "amateur- 
ism," 649.  Humor  in  wheel  literature. 
Ideal  of,  693.  Individuality,  Obliteration 
of,  445-8.  Journalism  of  cycling,  547-8, 
688-95, 706.  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's, 
536,  554-7-  London,  426-7,  436  {see  spe- 
cial index).  Longest  19  days'  ride,  535-6. 
Longest  year's  record,  53 1-2,  558.  Manners 
and  customs  in  social  life,  444-8.  Maps, 
681-7.  My  '76  tour  which  never  took  place, 
406.  Narrow-mindedness  of  business-men, 
484.  National  Cyclists'  Union,  646-51  {see 
special  index,  *' N.  C.  U.").  Newspaper 
gossiper  sent  to  jail  by  Lord  Coleridge,  280. 
Newspaper  prattle  about  the  nobility  and 
gentry,  396.  Prince  of  Wales's  visit  to 
America,  469-71.  Racing,  532-44,  547.  553-4- 
Racing  men,  Wheeiing^s  social  classifica- 
tion of,  629.  Railroad  and  s.  s.  rates  for  cy- 
cles, 59S-9.  "  Rights  and  Liabilities  of  Cy- 
clists," Law  book  on,  684-5.  Road-books 
and  guides,  550, 68 1-8.  ((oad  races,  532-44, 
553-8.  Self-suppression  the  supreme  law, 
445.  Servitude  to  servants,444-7.  Snobbery 
of  the  middle  classes  shown  by  "  amateur- 
ism," 650.   "  Society  of  Cyclists,"  Dr.Rich- 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


zxv 


ardaon's,  647.  Social  conditions  shown  by 
inn4ceeping  customs  and  ideals,  602;  by 
abusive  personalities  of  cycling  press,  695. 
Subscribers  to  this  book,  Attraction  of, 
706;  Names  of,  790-2.  Subscribers  to 
WknlmeiCs  GaaetU^  662.  Sunday  riding, 
Statistics  of,  541-2.  "Tri.  Association" 
and  "Tri.  Union,"  in  N.  C.  U.,  647. 
Wheeling  biographies,  472-3.  Worship  of 
wealth,  446.  Wales,  Touring  in,  673,  68z. 
Yates  (E.)  sent  to  jail  for  libel,  380. 

"  Er  "  abetter  termination  than  "  ist,"  673.4, 
800. 

Erib  Canal  and  Lakb  Erie,  The,  199- 
so8,  xi. 

Evarts  as  a  talker  for  business  only,  724. 

Exemption  from  duty  for  tourists'  cycles  en- 
tering the  United  States,  How  my  Ber- 
muda trip  brought,  368-70. 

EzpenditureB:  Baggage  and  express,  41. 
Bermuda  trip,  364.  Custom-House  charges, 
599-600.  Elbow-breaking,  35.  El  well's  tour, 
257.  Fees  to  bn^pigemen,  86, 96,  221,  596. 
Horse-scaring  in  '69, 395.  Mammoth  Cave, 
231.  Nova  Scotia  hotels,  288,  and  tour, 
292.  Repairs  of  machine,  41.  Riding- 
dothes,  41.  Scotch  tourist,  546.  Veloci- 
pedes of  '69,  400. 

Fathers  and  sons  as  cyclers,  494,  517,  521, 

524,  531,  5^4. 

Foes :  A.  C.  U.,  631 ;  C.  T.  C,  638,  643 ; 
L.  A.  W.,  624;  N.  C.  U.,  647,  649;  Bag- 
gagemen, 86,  96,  231,  596;  Ferries,  96; 
Horse-car  lines,  86. 

Fifth  Avenue,  N.  Y.,  65,  45»-4>  583. 

First  bicyde  ride  in  America,  330 ;  in  United 
States,  406. 

First  "thousand-mile  trail,"  304,  533,  549, 

55  «• 

Food  of  long-distance  riders,  480,  537. 

Fording  the  New  Zealand  rivers,  568. 

Foreign  Conntrief ,  Index  to,  Iviii. 

Fortnight  in  Ontario,  A,  310-32,  xiii. 

Forty  Days  Straightaway,  294-309,  xiii. 

Four  names  for  cyclers  to  honor,  370. 

Foi7R  Seasons  on  a  Forty-Six,  24-34,  x. 

France  and  the  French:  Autocratic  rule 
of  the  concierge,  458.  Books  and  papers, 
69S-9.  Cycles  at  the  custom  house,  599, 
600.  C.  T.  C.  members,  636.  Hatred  of 
originality,  468.  Invention  of  cycling  in 
olden  time,  i.  Lallement  at  Ansonia  and 
New  Haven,   139-42,  394.    Long-distance 


rides,  553-3,  558.  Maps,  68a.  Paris,  Allu- 
sioQs  to,  2, 99,  280, 403, 406,  426, 4*48, 45S.9, 
480,  545,  55  »i  558,  568,  6ii,  645,  651, 698^, 
792.  Racing  free  from  "amateurism," 
628.  Railroad  rates,  599.  Social  ideals, 
468.  Stevens's  ride,  480.  Subscrib«^  to 
this  book,  792.  Union  V^locip^dique,  651, 
698.  Velocipeding  in  '68,  390,  403. 
"  Free  Advertising  " :  Explanation  and  de- 
fense of  the  policy,  653,  707,  718.  Gained 
by  authors  and  publishers  from  my  scheme, 
653  •  718;  by  hotels  which  give  their  best 
treatment  to  wheelmen,  602,  607,  609,  612, 
614 ;  by  hotels  which  subscribe  for  this 
book,  605  ;  by  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  routes  which 
class  cycles  as  baggage,  591 ;  by  this  book 
from  the  cycling  press,  704-9,  718-19;  by 
wheel  literature,  653.  Given  by  Bi.  World 
as  League  organ,  618 ;  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co. 
to  the  trade  in  general,  659,  679 ;  by  racing 
men  to  cycles  which  win,  628 ;  by  T.  Ste- 
vens to  the  trade  in  general,  484 ;  by  trades-* 
men  to  cyding  books  and  papers,  653. 
Neglected  chance  at  Coventry,  684.  St. 
Louis  sarcasms  in  Am*  Wkeelman^  6ji. 

"  Froth  and  foam,"  Racers  likened  to,  v. 

Genealogy  as  a  scientific  study,  722. 

Geographical  miscellany  (index,  Ixiii.). 

Germany  and  the  Oermans:  Barthol's 
(H.)  2800  m.  tour  of  '84,  551-2.  Books  and 
papers,  697.  C.  T.  C.  members,  636-7. 
Cycles  at  the  custom  house,  599.  Fiske's 
(G.  F.)  tour,  522.  L.  A.  W.  members, 
617-18.  Roads,  480-1,  522,  551-2.  Ste- 
vens's (T.)  ride,  480-1.  Subscribers  to  this 
book,  792.     Wheelmen's  Union,  651,  697. 

Ghostly  wheelmen  in  the  fog,  268. 

Gloves,  My  preference  as  to,  z8,  733. 

Gossip,  Distinctions  between  verbal  and 
printed,  280;  American  collegians  and 
English  nobility  lied  about  by  newspapers 
for  similar  reasons,  296-7. 

Grandfather's  cycling  record  of  17,600  miles 
in  three  years,  1883-5,  An  Australian,  562. 

Grandfather's  luckless  contract  as  a  cycling- 
path  builder,  in  1825,  My  maternal,  180. 

Grant's  (Gen.)  sagadty  as  to  personal  peril. 
Anecdote  of,  724. 

Great  American  Hog,  The,  10,  596,  615,  6si§^ 
Road  law  for  checking,  584,  680. 

Greeting  :  to  my  3000  Co-partner' 
xcvi. 

Halifax,  Pleasant  impressions  c 


ZXVl 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Hamerton*s  (P.  G.)  reflections  on  solitude 
and  incfependence,  467-9. 

Harvard  College :  Bartlett's  (Gen.  W.  F.) 
noble  speech  at,  in  1874,  386.  Buildings, 
434-5*  Guide  book  to,  113.  Jealousy  of 
Yale,  2$,  256.  Newspaper  lies  about,  397. 
Stupidity  as  to  boat-race  management  at 
New  London,  131.  Successful  financial 
policy,  437.  Unimportant  allusions,  lot, 
«>3.  494,  5*4i  658,  665,  767.  Velocipeding 
in  '69,  403. 

Hats  and  caps  for  touring,  18. 

Health  is  won  by  cycling.  Books  showing 
how,  6S5-6,  688. 

Healthfulness  of  cycling.  Examples  of  the, 
53,  258,  278,  295,  537,  565. 

Hills  and  Mountains,  Index  to,  Ix. 

Historical  Statistics :  Bermuda,  354-7. 
Brooklyn  Bridge,  86.  Central  Park,  92-5. 
Long  Island,  155.  New  Haven,  132 ; 
Velocipeding  at,  400-2.  New  York  City, 
Settlement  of,  64;  University  of,  433-5, 
437-8.  Prince  Edward  Island,  290.  Pros- 
pect Park,  89.  Shenandoah  Valley,  346-8. 
Staten   Island,  155.    Washington  Square, 

64-S.  432-4- 
Hog  who  thinks  the  roads  of  this  continent 

are   his    private    property    {jut  **  Potxus 

Americanus"). 
Holland  and  the  Dutch:    C.  T.  C.  mem- 

bcrs,    636-7.    Cyclers'  Union,    651,    700. 

Free    entry  for  cycles,   599.     Long  day*s 

lit^c,    553.     Subscriber,    792.    Tour,    522. 

Wheel  literature,  700. 
Holland  (Dr.  J  G.)  as  "  the  American  Tup- 

per,"  Carl  Benson's  exposure  of,  728-9. 
Honor  these  four !  370. 
Horseback  traffic  in  Kentucky,  226 ;  traveler 

in  Europe  beaten  by  bicycler,  558. 
Horses,  Cyclers'  treatment  of,  10  ;  Runaways 

never  caused  by  my  bicycle,  57;  Various 

allusions  to,  237,  293,  321,  380,  395,  529, 

566,  57 »■ 
tloTKLS,  Thb  QoBSTiON  OF,  601-14,  xviii., 
639-41,  Ivii.:  Alphabetical  list  of,  146.  Bath> 
tubs  wanted  at,  601,  602,  614.  Clerk's  in- 
solence rebuked,  338.  Constraint  of  life  at, 
450.  Index  to  those  named  in  this  book, 
612.  Overcrowded  by  touring  parties,  320. 
Recommendations  of,  201,  221,  231,  238, 
33 1»  345»  3481  381.  Where  this  book  may 
be  consulted,  609.  Women  patrons  of, 
442,  450.    Women  waiters  at,  13. 


Hudson  and  Lake  Gborcr,  179-98,  xi. 

Humors  of  the  Boad :  Acadians*  picnic 
in  the  rain,  283.  Astonishment  at  the 
novel  vehicle,  8,  372,  379.  Australians' 
greetings,  560.  Bingharaton  B.  C.'s  con- 
tempt for  my  long-distance  trophy,  308. 
Brave  passenger  and  his  apology,  The, 
380.  Car-drivers'  repartee,  105.  Cartoons 
of  velocipeding,  390.  Coaching-club  photog- 
raphers take  my  back  for  a  background, 
281.  Compliments  from  the  Small  Boy,  6, 
13 >  48,  54-  Cooking  chickens  in  Virginia, 
350.  Difiident  introductions,  3.  Dogs,  18, 
'40f  565.  Facetiousness  of  the  Erie  canaV 
lers,  8-9.  Forced  to  mount  the  mail-coach, 
560.  Free-lunch  at  East  Machias,  271. 
Fragging  in  the  Shenandoah,  383.  Good' 
bye  chortle  to  the  charmers  of  Calais, 
266.  Great  American  Hog,  The,  10,  596, 
615,  6at.  "Journalism"  on  the  border, 
263.  Larrigans  for  the  Blue  Noses,  265. 
Martinetism  on  Mt.  Desert,  275-8.  Mis- 
taken for  an  undertaker,  195.  Newspaper 
lies  about  Rosenbluth's  horse,  397 ;  theo- 
ries as  to  "  riding  in  the  rain,"  263.  Re- 
torts courteous,  8-1 1 ,  265,  396,  568.  Scissors- 
grinding,  Request  for,  225.  Scouring  the 
Connecticut  River  tow-path,  in  search  of 
"  my  lost  inheritance,"  180.  "  Watching 
for  the  circus  "  (me  in  Me),  264.  Women's 
wayside  rudeness,  9,  11.  World-wide  ad- 
vice to  T.  Stevens,  477. 

Hundred  mile  road-race  of  '85  in  Canada, 
320-2 ;  English  annual,  '77  to  '85,  554,  532-3, 
538 ;  Reference  to  Boston,  516. 

Hungarian  tourists,  481,  551*  5S3>  79*. 

Ice  velocipede  of  '69,  404. 

"Impressions**:  Bermuda,  365.  Gettys- 
burg, 385-6.  Halifax,  292.  Litchfield,  142. 
London,  406,  425,  448.  Luray,  381-2. 
Mammoth  Cave,  232,  381.  New  York 
Harbor,  99.  Pemberton  Square,  104.  To- 
ronto, 318.     Washington  Square,  432-3. 

Incidents  and  Accidents  (jr«  special  index, 
Ixxxiii.;  also,  "  Humors  of   the  Road  " ). 

India,  T.  Stevens's  1400  mile  ride  through, 
in  the  summer  of  '86,  571-2. 

Indiana:  League  membership,  617-18.  Road- 
book, 625.  Road-reports  from  5  counties, 
235.  Subscribers,  785-6.  Tours,  479, 486-8. 
5T9.    IVheelmtiC s  Record^  Tx:\\\. 

Indian  chief's  longing.  The,  295,  731. 

India-rubber  cloth  for  luggage-roll,  32 ;  cups 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


xxvu 


and  poaches,  i8,  57 ;  drinking-tubes,  33 ; 
oyersboes,  a  i ;  soles  unsuited  for  touring, 
30. 

Institutions,  Minor  Cycung,  633-52,  x. 

Inventions  and  patents,  520,  526,  550. 

Ireland  and  the  Irish:  Author  in  Amer- 
ica, 674.  Bull-dog  fanciers,  406, 409.  "  C. 
T.  C.  hotels  "  denounced,  640.  Dublra  and 
Killamey,"  Faed's  "  trips  to,  xcv.  Journal- 
ism, 654,  695.  Maps,  682-3.  Members 
of  C.  T.  C,  645.6,  688.  Pamphlet  of 
tour  in  England,  686.  Racing  governed  by 
I.e.  A.,  653.  Road-guides,  685.  Soldiers 
in  our  civil  war,  423.  Straightaway  ride, 
by  W.  M.  Woodside,  499.  Subscribers, 
733.  Touring  report,  545.  Wheeling  statis- 
tics of  W.  Bowles,  545. 

Islands,  Index  to,  Ix. 

"  Isl"  inferior  to  "  er"  as  a  verbal  ending, 
673-4,  669,  800. 

Italy:  Banhol's  (H.)  tour,  553.  Bolton's 
(A.  M.)  tour,  549.  Cycles  at  the  Custom 
House,  600.  Railroad  rates,  599.  Sub- 
scribers, 792,  798.  Tricycling  in,  Pennells' 
book  of,  530,  687.    Wheel  literature,  700. 

JaiMUi:  Stevens's  tour,  573.  Subscriber, 
793. 

Jonmallsm  of  the  Wheel,  654-700.  Alpha- 
betical index  to  all  cycling  and  sporting 
papers  quoted  or  referred  to  in  this  book, 
Ixxii.  American  press  of  '86, 661-72.  Argu- 
ment for  free  advertisement  of  it,  653-4, 
and  by  it,  718-9.  Australian  papers,  -696, 
570.  Belgian  papers,  697.  Bound  volumes 
for  libraries,  663-3, 691.  Circulation,  State- 
ments and  opinions  about,  654,  656,  659, 
661,  665,  669-70,  691,  693-4,  697,  707. 
"  Consolidation,"  Fallacy  concerning,  659, 
66S,  690.  Dutch,  700.  Editors,  Sugges- 
tions to,  719.  English  press,  Sketch  of  the, 
688-95,  650,  547.9 ;  French,  698-9 ;  German, 
697,  699;  Hungarian,  697;  Italian,  700; 
League  policy  unaffected  by  press  clamor, 
6i8-30,  630.  List  of  33  Am.  and  Eng.  jour- 
nals, Aug.  I,  '86,  654.  Norwegian,  700. 
Official  organs,  618-21,  650,  730.  Personal 
abuse.  Specimens  of,  694-5.  Postal  regis- 
tration for  second-class  rates,  619.30,  667. 
"  Reading-notices,"  Ineffectiveness  of, 
708.9,  718.  Rivalry  between  "  Coventry 
ring  "  and  "  Wheeling  crew,"  690,  694-5, 
547.9.  Spanish,  700.  Sporting  and  out- 
side papers   support   cycling,  673,  695.6. 


Southern  papers  (U.  S.),  670,  67a.  Supple- 
mentary details.  May  i,  1S87,  xciv.  Swed- 
ish, 70a  Touring  reports  less  attractive 
than  race  reports,  716.  Treatment  of  my 
subscription  scheme,  704-9.  Western  papers 
(U.  S.),  66o.i,  669,  671-3.  Writers,  pub- 
lishers and  printers.  Index  to,  Ixxiii. 

Journalism  in  general :  Index  to  all  non- 
cycling  periodicals  quoted  as  referred  to  in 
this  book,  Ixxvii.  Injury  of  printed  gossip 
in  "  society  papers,"  281.  Inventiveness 
of  local  editors  on  the  Down-East  border, 
363-4.  Lies  told  "  for  revenue  only  '*  : 
against  the  nobility  in  England, — against 
the  collegians  in  America,  396-7.  Remark- 
able run  by  my  white  horse's  ghost  of  '69, 
spurred  by  editorial  scissors,  from  Maine 
to  California,  397-8.  Reminiscences  of  six 
years'  Atlas-business,  in  holding  up  the 
IVorld^  720.X.  Suggestions  to  reviewers, 
viii.  Tupperism  and  Greeleyism  rebuked 
by  Charles  Astor  Bristed,  737-8. 

Kentucky  and  its  Mammoth  Cavs, 
334-37,  X"-  (index,  590). 

Khorassan  and  Koordistan,  T.  Stevens's  ad- 
ventures in,  481,  483,  570. 

Lakb  Gborgb  and  thb  Hudson,  179-98,  xi. 

Lakes  and  Ponds,  Index  to,  Ix. 

Lakin  cyclometer  prize  for  1885  mileage,  537-8. 

Lallement  at  Ansonia,  139-41,  394. 

Lanterns,  18,  516,  518. 

Larrigan  manufactory,  265. 

Last  Word,  The,  800. 

Lawyers  as  wheelmen,  503,  511,  533. 

Lbacub  of  American  Whbblmbn,  xviii., 
615.33  :  Amateur  Athlete  as  official  organ, 
619, 667-8.  "Amateur,"  Definition  of,  634  ; 
racing  men  expelled  by  the,  629.  Appoint- 
ment of  officers,  632,  624.  Bi.  World  as 
official  organ,  618,  663,  665.  Badge,  616, 
639.  Bookmaster,  623,  627,  586.  Bulletin^ 
Expenses  and  receipts  of,  620,  661,  Ixxxiv. 
California's  certificate  against  League  ho- 
tels, 609 ;  road-book,  625.  Chief  Consuls, 
617,  622,  623.  Committees,  622,  627.  Con- 
suls, 634.  "Creed"  vs.  C.  T.  C,  644. 
Defalcation  of  Secretary-Editor,  Ixxxiv. 
Elections,  623,  626.  English  editors'  at- 
tempt to  discredit  its  "  time,"  547,  636. 
Executive  Committee,  633.3,  637,  Ixxxiv. 
Founded  on  my  broken  elbow,  34.  Gov- 
ernmental reform,  Pres.  Bates  on,  '636. 
Hand-books,  635,  677.    Hostility  to  C.  T. 


xxviii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


C.  encroachments,  644.  Hotels,  Policy 
denounced,  601 ,  64 1 .  Hotels,  Appointment 
of,  by  chief  consuls,  624,  609.  Incorpora- 
tion proposed,  626.  Life  memberships,  624. 
New  York  Division,  Election  law  and  sta- 
tistics of,  626.  Marshals,  623, 627.  Meet- 
ings, 623.  Membership,  Committee  on, 
622, 627 ;  Geographical  statistics  of,  617-18 ; 
Mode  of  applying  for,  624 ;  Two  arguments 
for,  621.  Officers,  Duties  of,  621-24;  Elec- 
tion of,  623,  626 ;  Meetings  of,  623  ;  Names 
of,  626-28 ;  Praise  of,  618, 62 1.  Offshoots  : 
A.  C.  U.  and  C.  W.  A.,  628, 633.  "  Organ- 
ship  "  in  '84,  Bids  of  various  papers  for,  619. 
Parades,  *8o  to  *86,  615-18,  21,  225,  371. 
Political  power,  Pres.  Bates  on,  62 1.  Presi- 
dency, Argument  against  "  rotating  "  the, 
617.  President,  616,  622-3,  627.  "  Pro- 
fessional," Definition  of,  624.  Publication 
of  road-books,  625.  Quorum,  622.  Races 
at  N.  Y.  and  Boston,  616.  Racing  Board, 
623, 627, 629-30, 633.  Racing  men  expelled 
for  "  amateurism,"  629.  Railroads  class- 
ing bicycles  as  baggage,  594.  Representa- 
tives, 617,  622-3.  Rights  and  Privileges, 
Committee  on,  621-2,  627.  Road-books  of 
State  Divisions,  625, 677,  581-2,  584.  "Rota- 
tion," Protest  against  official,  618-21.  Rules 
and  Regulations,  Committee  on,  622,  627. 
Salary  of  Secretary- Editor,  622 ;  of  Sec- 
Treas.  N.  Y.  Div.,  626.     State  Divisions, 

622,  625-6 ;  officers  in  service  Oct.  30,  *86, 
627-8.  Steamship  routes  on  free  li^t,  593. 
Subscribers  to  this  book,  Names  of  officers 
who  are,  765-89.  Touring  Board,  623, 627. 
Transportation  Committee,  Appointment 
of,  622  ;  names  of,  627  ;  effective  work  for 
r.  r.  concessions,  591 ;  neglect  of  the  water 
routes,  593.  Treasurer,  617-19,  622,  627. 
Unimportant  allusions,  94,  113,  119,  128, 
154,  176-8,  199,  224,  242,  281,  371,  372,  4S8, 
493.  504,  508,  510,  516-19,  523-6,  530,  603-8, 
665,  667-8,  670,  675,  693,  704-5,  715,  717, 
720,  765-89,  800.  Washington  parade,  371. 
Wheel  as  official  organ,  619,  667.  Vice- 
President,  616,  622,  623,  627.  Votes  con- 
trolled by,  615,  621.  Voting  for  officers  of, 

623,  626,  Ixxxix. 

Lepal-Tender  decision,  Regret  for  the,  464. 

Legislation  against  Cycling :  Attempts  in 
Ohio,  621 ;  in  New  Jersey,  588,  725.  Com- 
mon law  a  defense,  584,  615,  680.  Test 
case  at  Central  Park,  93-5,  585,  xc. 


Library  of  N.  C.  U.  at  London,  650. 

Litchfield  as  a  typical  village,  142. 

Loadstone  Rock,  Comparisons  to,  354,  724. 

Log  keeping  by  tourists,  Books  for,  676. 

London  (w  "  England,"  "  C.  T,  C."  and 
"  N.  C.  U.") :  Books  and  papers  of  cycling, 
68 1-8.  Characterization  of  by  Cowper,  406 ; 
by  Dr.  Johnson,  426,  436.  C.  T.  C.  takes 
one-third  its  members  from  region  of,  636. 
Dog  show  of  1872,  405.  Halifax  as  a 
reminder  of,  292.  Journals  of  cycling, 
688-95,  654,  547-9.  Maps,  6S1-2.  Queen's 
progress  through  the  mob,  441.  Seclusion 
in.  My,  405-6,  427, 471.  "  Secretary-Editor 
of  C.  T.  C."  rebuked  for  forgery  and  vulgar 
abuse,  by  Mr.  Justice  Wills,  xcii.  So- 
ciety journalist  sent  to  jail,  by  Lord  Cole- 
ridge, 280.  Subscribers  to  this  book,  791. 
"  Views  "  inferior  to  those  of  N.  Y.,  99, 

452. 
Long  -  Distance    Routes    and    Riders, 

473-501,  xvi. 
Long  Island  and  Staten  Island,  150-58, 

xi. ;  Road  book  and  maps,  584,  625. 
Loquot,  The  incomparable,  365. 
Luggage-carriers,  Lamson  and  Z.  &  S.,  17, 

22.  45.  714. 

Luray  Cavern,  Praise  of,  381-2. 

Macadam  in  the  U.  S.,  The  first,  242  ;  Primi- 
tive mode  of  applying  it  on  the  Shen- 
andoah pike,  345. 

Machines,  Breakage  and  repairs  of,  37-41, 487, 
492.  496.  498.    Guides  to,  550,  675,  683-7. 

Maine  (index,  573),  Touring  party  in,  255-81. 

"Maker's  Amateurs":  Expulsion  of  by 
L.  A.  W.  and  N.  C.  U.,  629-30,  648-9. 
Classed  as  "promateurs"  by  A.  C.  U., 
632.     Definition  of,  632. 

Makes  of  bicycles  and  tricycles  mentioned 
in  this  book.  Indexes  to,  Ixxviii. 

Malaria  cured  by  bicycling,  295,  308. 

Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky,  231-2,  381-2. 

Manhattan  Island,  Geography  of,  64 ;  En- 
trance to,  84.    (S"?*  "New  York  City.")   . 

Maps:  Adirondacks,  187,  211.  Berkshire 
Co.,  Ms.,  112.  Boston,  113.  Brooklyn, 
99,584.  Buffalo,  588.  Canada,  331.  Cats- 
kills,  187.  County,  99,  112,  177,  187,682. 
Connecticut,  99,  112,  113,  148,  177,  293. 
England,  681-7.  France,  682.  Ireland,  682. 
Kentucky,  590.  Lake  George,  99.  Lon- 
don, 681-2.  Long  Island,  99,  154,  584,625. 
Maine,  575.    Massachusetts,   112-13,   176. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


XXIX 


Bit.  Desert,  281.  New  Brunswick,  331. 
New  England,  1 13,  33 1.  New  Hampshire, 
577.  New  Jersey,  100,  159,  176-7.  New 
York  City,  xoo.  Nova  Scotia,  293.  Ohio, 
625.  Ontario,  331.  Orange,  175,  584, 
588.  Rhode  Island,  581.  Scotland,  68 1-3. 
Sprinsfield.  126,  254-  State,  112.  Suten 
Island,  99,  158,  625.  Vermont,  578.  Vir- 
ginia, 352.    Westchester  Co.,  99,  100. 

ICaps  PobUsbed  by  Adams,  100,  113, 149, 
177.  33 »» 35»-5'  Barkraan,  584, 625.  Beers, 
99, 126, 148^,  174-5. 177, 187, 577.  Bradley, 
254.  Bromley,  176.  Collins,  683.  Coltous, 
99.  "3,«49.  158,  i77f  '87,  293,  331,  352, 
57S»  577,  579»  581,  590.  Cupples,  Up- 
ham  &  Co.,  112-13.  Ci]l,  683.  Heaid, 
154.  Jarrold  &  Co.,  683.  Johnson,  352. 
Knight  &  Leonard,  245.  Letts,  681-2. 
Mason  &  Payne,  ^1-2.  Merrill,  198. 
Paul  &  Bro.,  588.  Philip  &  Son,  682-3. 
Smith,  176.  Steiger,  100.  Stoddard,  187, 
211.  Taintor,  19S.  Walker  &  Co.,  1x3, 
126.     Walling,  576.     Watson,  154. 

HftWHSrhUBBtta  (index,  579)  :  Road-reports, 
101-2S.  General  Bartlett's  message,  as  the 
representative  soldier  of,  386.  Algernon 
Sidney's  motto  variously  interpreted,  386, 
466.     Myself  as  a  native  of,  367,  372,  722. 

Mav  Fourth,  1887  (verses),  xcvi. 

Medals  for  long-distance  riding,  553, 559,  562. 

Medical  men's  experience  in  wheeling,  510, 
522  ;  testimony  for,  62,  658. 

Memorial  tributes  to  Gen.  Bartlett  and  Maj. 
Winthrop,  as  typical  Yankee  heroes  in  the 
civil  war,  386,  439. 

Mexico :  Cycles  at  the  custom  house,  600 ; 
subscribers  to  this  book,  790. 

Mileage  statistics,  Annual  (American), 503-30 ; 
(Australasian),  562-9?  (English),  531-58. 

Misprint  of  price  ($1.50 for  fa),  732,  734, 799. 

Mistresses  and  wives,  442-4. 

WmiTitaiTi  Poaks  and  Kaages,  Index  to, 

lis. 
Mt.  Desert,  Two  days'  wheeling  on,  275^. 
Males'  perversity,  9,  44,  X99.  ao8,  379- 
Music  and  songs  for  wheelmen,  679,  686, 693. 
My  Autobiography,  Index  to,  Ixxix. 
My  bull-dog's  life  and  adventures,  407-25. 
My  prize  essay  (which  didn't  take  the  prize), 

"  On  thb  Whbel,"  1-14,  657-8,  702,  iii. 
••  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  Proposals  for, 

716-7,  211,  5<"f  573.  S90. 
My  234  Rides  on  "  No.  234,"  49-63,  x. 


M' 


Nadal's  (E.  S.)  impressions  of  social  life  in 
London  and  New  York,  447-9. 

Names:  Alphabetical  lists  of  1476  persons 
mentioned  in  the  main  text  of  this  book, 
Ixv.-lxxi. ;  of  3400  subscribers,  734-64,  794- 
6 ;  of  3482  towns,  Ixviii.-lxxviii. 
National  CycliatB*  Union"  of  England 
(N.  0.  U.)f  646-651 :  "Amateurism,"  X^efi- 
nition  of,  638  ;  financial  dilemma  produced 
by,  648 ;  proposed  abolition  of,  649 ;  vacil- 
lation in  treatment  of,  630,  649.    "  B.  U.," 
as  first  named,  647.    Championship  meet- 
ings and  gate-«noney,  649.   Council  of  Dele- 
gates, 647.     Danger-boards,   651.     Exec- 
utive Committee  in  '86,  646 ;  in  '87,  Ixxx. ; 
functions  of,  64S ;  logical  criticisms  of,  by 
J.   R.   Hogg,  649;   threatened  libel-suits 
against,  630,  649.    Financial  gains  in  '85 
and  losses  in  '86,  648.    Libel  suits,  Danger 
of,  630,  649.     Librarian's  appeal  for  dona- 
tions, 650.    Local  Centers,  officers  of,  in  '84, 
646 ;  finances  of  in  '86,  648 ;  functions  of, 
648,  65J,    Medals  for  record-breaking,  651. 
Membership,  647 ;  Dissatisfaction  of,  649. 

Mismanagement  of  '86  races,  648.  "  Ob- 
jects" officially  defined,  647.  Officers,  Elec- 
tion of,  647 ;  Names  of,  646,  xciii.  Publi- 
cations, 650.  Quorum,  647-8.  Races  of 
'86  mismanaged,  648.  Racing-register  pro- 
g  posed,  649.  Record-medals,  651.  Refer- 
ence library,  650.  Representation,  Mode 
of,  647-8.  Reserve-fund,  648-9.  Review, 
The  official  quarteriy,  650.  Roads,  Efforts 
for  improved,  647,  650.  "  T.  A."  and  "  T. 
U."  absorbed,  647.  Unimportant  allusions, 
615,  686,  693,  695.  Wheeling* s  criticisms, 
629-30,  648-51,  xciii. 

National  Pike,  The  Old,  242-3. 

Natural  Bridge  and  Luray  Cavern,  Sugges- 
tions for  visitors  to,  349-51,  382,  495. 

Negroes'  amusement  over  bicycling,  272,  379; 
dread  of  the  medicine-men,  43 1 ;  neat  ap- 
pearance at  Bermuda,  364. 

New  Brunswick:  Larrigans  at  St.  Ste- 
phen's,  265, 270.  Our  afternoon  on  Campo- 
bello,  270,  515.    Tour  to  St.  John,  274. 

New  Hampshire  (index,  575) :  Tours  among 
the  White  Mountains,  575-7. 

New  Hayen :  Bone-shaker  days  of  1869  at, 
391-405.  East-Rock  Park  (verses),  136. 
Lallement  at,  139,  394.  Plan  of,  132. 
Roads  around,  132-3,  138,  149.  Velociped- 
ing  at,  391-405.     {See  "  Yale  College.") 


I 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


ZXXl 


Persons  named  in  this  book,  Index  to  1476 
(exclusive  of  the  3400  subscribers  named 
on  pp.  734-99) » Ixv.-lxxi. 

Philadelphia:  "Association  for  Advance- 
ment of  Cycling,"  5S9.  Books  and  papers 
of  cycling,  654,  660,  674.  Riding  routes, 
164.  377.  388-9.  495.  497.  499.  S«a. 

Philosophical  and  Social  (index,  Ixxxi.). 

Photographing,  Amateur,  260,  369,  371,  546. 

Pictures  and  sketches,  279,  475. 493.  S34»  55^1 
556,  656-60,  662,  665-75,  683-93. 

-Poetrj  and  Verses  {ju*  "  Quotations  ") : 
iCneas  to  Dido,  305.  After  Beer,  15. 
Apostrophe  to  the  Wheel,  346.  Birthday 
Fantasie,  A,  33.  Boating  at  Bermuda, 
353-4,  367-  BuU-Doggerel,  409,  4»«-". 
420,425.  Carmen  BelHcosum,  186.  Carpe 
Diem,  473.  Champion  Bull-Dog,  409, 41 1. 
Cui  Bono  ?  309.  Drink  Hearty,  63.  East 
Rock,  136.  Gather  the  Roses  while  ye 
May,  473.  Greeting  to  my  Co-partners, 
xcvi.  Holyoke  Valley,  136.  In  the 
Yacht  Kulinda,  353-4,  367.  Kaaterskill 
Falls,  316.  Last  Word,  The,  800.  May 
Fourth,  1SS7,  xcvi.  Outside  Dog  in  the 
Fight,  The,  412.  Pinaforic  Chant,  800. 
Quashiboo,  444.  Springt  der  Sam  Patsch, 
2t6.  Sursum  Corda,  701.  Touring  Alone, 
34.  Triolet  to  "Two-Thirty-Four,"  49. 
Triumph,  304.  Velocipede,  401.  Wheeling 
La'^*.  309-  Wheelocipede,  390. 

Political  allusions,  309,  370,  386,  421-2,  443, 
450.  460,  464,  547.  585,  724.  726-7. 

"  Politics"  :  as  affected  by  wheelmen's  votes, 
585,  615,  631 ;  as  contrasted  to  wheeling, 
309 ;  as  related  to  N.  V.  parks,  92,  585. 

Pope  Mfg.  Co. :  Advertising  pamphlets  and 
calendars,  678-80.  BL  ^(9r/<e/ rupture,  664. 
Ccdnmbia  bicycles  and  tricycles  mentioned 
in  this  book  (index,  Ixxviii.),  24-63.  Offices 
in  four  chief  cities,  799.  Portraits  and 
iMQgraphies  of  its  president,  CoL  A.  A. 
Pope,  680;  my  estimate  of  his  business- 
standing  and  ss^adty,  712,  vi.  Prizes  for 
essays  and  pictures  on  wheeling,  657-8,  702. 
Support  of  my  publication  scheme,  703, 711- 
13,  799.     IVAee/man,  published  by,  659-60. 

Paineats  A  mtrt'camts  (tht  Horse-driving  Hog, 
who  assumes  the  highways  of  this  continent 
as  his  own  private  property),  xo,  57,  596, 
615,  631  i  road  law  for,  584,  680,  684-5. 

Portraits,  Lists  of  wheelmen's,  675,  680, 
68S-6,  689,  691,  693. 


Portraits,  The  exchanging  of,  380. 

Postage  of  C.  T.  C.  GautU,  641 ;  olL.  A. 

IV.  Bulletin^  619-20. 
Potomac,  Along  thb,  338-45,  xii. 
Preface  (5000  words)  iii.-viii. 
Price  misprinted  ("^i-So"  for  "I2"),  732, 

734.  799- 

Prince  of  Wales's  visit  to  the  room  where 
this  book  was  written,  469-71. 

Prize  competitions.  Literary,  artistic,  657-8. 

"Professional,"  as  defined  by  L.  A.  W., 
624,  633  ;  A.  C.  U.,  632  ;  C.  W.  A.,  635 ; 
N.  C.  U.,  638.    fJSee  "Amateurism.") 

"  Promateur,"  A.  C.  U.  definition  of,  632. 

Proverbs  :  604,  680,  702,  722,  727 ;  (Latin)  62, 
a8o,  444,  429,  459,  680. 

Pseudonyms,  Request  for,  718. 

Public  Bolldings,  Index  to,  Ixii. 

Publishers'  reciprocation  and  corrections 
asked  for,  718-9.  ^ 

Quashiboo  Bull  (verses),  444. 

Queensland:  Cycling,  652.  Subscribers,  793. 

Quorum  :  L.  A.  W.,  622 ;  A.  C.  U.,  631 ; 
C.  T.  C,  642  ;  N.  C.  U.,  647-8. 

Quotations:  French  vi.,  i,  24,  723,  727. 
German,  216.  Greek,  viii.,  457,  718,  724. 
Italian,  640.  Latin,  iii.,  62,  130,  280,  305, 
386,  429,  437,  444,  459,  466,  505,  680. 
Verses,  vii.,  34,  36, 136,  186-7,  216,  246, 266, 
304.  30s.  309.  323.  353-4,  367.  39»,  4o»,  406, 
409,  411,  412,  420,  425.  430.  444.  447,  459, 
465-6,  472,  505.  615,  701.  727-3»- 

Races :  Australia,  559-67 ;  England,  532-58 ; 
for  100  miles,  513;  not  known  in  bone- 
shaker days,  399;  on  the  road,  127,  320-2 ; 
participants'  allusions  to,  509,  516,  523,  529, 
537 ;  straightaway  courses  in  Canada  and 
Shenandoah  Valley,  297,  590. 

Bacing,  Government  of  in  America,  622, 
627-30.  Australia,  652 ;  Canada,  633-6 ; 
England,  629-30;  France,  628,  651;  Ger- 
many, 651;  Ireland,  652;  New  Zealand, 
652.  Social  insignificance  of,  v.  Speed 
more  desirable  than  social  subtleties,  629, 
630.  Statistics,  American  books  of,  675, 
680.    Trade  promotion  of,  v.,  716. 

Railroads  {se«  "  Transportation  Tax," 
591-600,  X.;  also  index,  Ixi.) :  Cycling  on 
the  tracks  of,  26,  73,  121, 128,  183,  190,  193, 
194,  197.  212,  237.  Latest  free  list,  xc. 
Tasmania,  563.    New  Zealand,  570. 

Rain,  Riding  in  the,  363,  534. 
I    Record-keeping,  Blank  books  for,  676,  xcr. 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


«,!»■). 


[.S6S. 


RIghti  and  liabiliiin  □[  »h«lineii.  Legal 
Irulw.  on  the  (AoKricai.),  5S4.  «8a ;  (En- 
glish), 6«4-i. 

Rinki  ror  velocipeding  in  iS«9,  m-t,  «x>-]. 

BlTsn  and  Talleyi,  Indei  u.  lii. 

Bnad-booki:  "American  Bicyder,"  The, 
Ihc  eiilicK.  6^4'  Berk>hlrt  County,  Mg., 
7«h  BoUon,  HE,  b%%,  b-JJ.  Calilomia, 
61s,  Canada,  jjo,  5j6,  67;.  Cape  Am, 
6s;.  Conneclicul,  581,  677.  Cam  aitd 
condilioiuDCnukiug,  71;.  C.T.C.,64i. 
687.  Engbnd,63i-i.  Ehh  County,  Mi., 
iia,6S5.  677.  Glouce>ler,  Mi.,  6si.  In- 
diana, 615.  vKinlucky,  5^.  678.  Long 
Island,  ;S4,  61],  6;),  67E.  Maiylanil,  589. 
Maisachiueiu,  5S1,  61;,  677-S,  Michigan, 
6,7,  New  Jeraey,  .77,  589.  New  York, 
liixii,,  i84,6is,*78(iii).  Ohio,  6is,  677, 
Penniylvania,  177.  SS*  Springfield  (map), 
1)4.  VennDnl,  579.  WesUni  Nen  Vork, 
H.,677. 

Road-reccrds,  Log-bookA  for,  676-7-  Sugges- 
tions Cot  keeping,  717. 

Soadi;  Asia  Minor.  481-a,  .Bermuda,  %K-7. 


57"-a-    Japan,    s 
641-4 .  *1«,  6si. 


"AEriculiuial  Beponi  o(  MassachuHlu," 
IOb-,  "  N.  C.  U."  pimphlelB,  647.  Legal 
bookt  as  10  wheelmen'i  rights  on  Ihe.  ;S4, 
64;,63ii,6S4.  Sign-boards  le»  needed  than 
road-books,  644.    Superiority  of   asphalt, 

S84,  sss. 

BuMlat  Dookolt 


Scotland 
H.  Calbn' 


"9'.  =W.  Jo"-S,  3S7.  !«S,  iSo-J, 

QdtbsBeotch:   Bootuoftoidi 
68.-6.    C.  T.  C.  Countil,  64J-6. 


K.,  Mileage  suiltliceoE, 
ijS,  4int  i°N-  v.,  67;  i 


lal  and  FhilocntihlMl  (i 

iinelyolCydisli,"  Evolutio 
le  English  ■T.  U.,"64J. 


C.   U." 


■.  Haroerlon,  467-9. 
qrclen,  655,679,  686,  69). 
i.sionj  to  the.  386,  72,. 
Cyclittt' Union, 651.  Re- 


nit,6|i.     Biilhplaceot  myself  an 


nab  of  England  profess  to  dou 
ing"  lime."  547.  Map*  and  gi 
154.  Printing  Company  ami  it! 
■nanufactnte  this  book,  viii..  ; 
799.      »'Arc/mm'i  Giattle,  61 

Iquam  and  Taika,  tndei  id,  1: 


GENERAL  INDEX, 


XZZlll 


SteveiiB's  (T.)  Tour  round  &e  World : 
San  Francisco  to  Boston,  473-80;  Liver- 
pool to  Teheran,  480-3 ;  Persia,  Afghan- 
istan, India,  China  and  Japan,  570-3. 

Stockings,  Mileage  statistics  of,  21, 208,  729. 

Straightaway  for  Forty  Days,  294-309, 
mi. 

Straightaway  courses  for  long-distance  rac- 
ing, Best  American,  397,  590. 

Straightaway  day's  rides  of  100  m.  (Ameri- 
can), 113-14,  121,  128,  138,  iS4>3i>>3i4, 
319,  321-3,  378, 480, 493.  498*  S»S ;  (Austra- 
lasian) 559.67 ;  (English)  534,  536,  547,  551, 

5S3-7. 
Strai;;htaway  rides  of  3  and  4  days,  Longest 

American,  498. 
Straightaway  stays  in.  saddle,  53,  122,  128, 

138,  148,  183,  202,  258,  313,  319,  343.  388, 

493.  499.  5»o.  5«4,  5»6,  522,  527,  530,  534, 

539.  540-1,  546,  559,  575. 
Subscribers,     Thb     Thrbb     Thousand, 

734-64,  xix. ;  Allusions  to,  vi.,  vii.,  64,  353, 

472,  484,  558,  569.  573.  70»-»o.  73a-  Geo- 
graphical directory  of,  765-94,  (705).  Sup- 
plementary list  of  latest  200,  with  "  trade 
directory,"  794-9. 

"  Swells  "  not  patrons  of  cycling,  695. 

Switzerland :  Custom  House  rules,  599. 
Cycling  Union,  650.  C.  T.  C.  Division, 
637.  Englishmen's  tour,  532,  542.  Sub- 
scriber, 792. 

Tables  of  mileage,  509,  535,   540,  54s,  544. 

573-4- 

Tasmania:  Cyclists*  Union.  652.  Excur- 
sionists' r.  r.  guide,  563.  Road-racing  and 
touring,  563-4.     Subscribers,  794. 

Taylor's  (G.  J.)  patent  crank  lever,  520. 

Tliames  and  its  tributaries.  The,  129,  68t. 

THOt;sAND  Islands  to  Natural  Bridgb, 

333-52.  «ii. 
Tires,  Excellent  service  of,  37-38,  47,  521,  538. 
Tool  carrying,  18,  22. 
Tonmto,  Impressions  of,  318. 
Touring  parties'  reports,  183,  187,  192,  197, 

iqS,  215,  2x6,  218,  244,  245,  257-79,  3M-»5. 

3ao-5.  348.  377.  5oo.  S©*.  5»8,  54*.  560,  580. 
Touring  Soutes:    Adirondacks,  211,  587. 

Australia,    564-6.     Baltimore,    377,    589. 

Berkshire  Hills,  The,   121,   i4a-3.   147-S. 

19^4,  ao8,    5ft<f  700.    Boston   to   Ports- 
I,    loi-a;    to    Providence,    107;  to 
103,   no,  117,  128,  181,  aoS. 


S88.    California,  475-6,    489-94. 


CatskiUs,   187-9,  488,  49^.    Conn.  River, 
117-20,   179-84,  578-80.    England,   539-41. 
553-8.     Europe,  480,  522,  5451  SS«-3,  55»- 
Hudson  River,  71-2,  75-82,  146-8,  169^72, 
187-98,    510,  582-3,  586-7.     Ireland,    546. 
Kennebec  Valley,  573-4.    Lake-shore,  170, 
203-6,  30 r,  310.     Long  Island,  84,  86-92, 
150-4.    Louisville,  232-7.    Mohawk  Valley, 
197,  199-202,  208.     Mt.  Desert,  275-9,  574< 
Newport,  108.     New  York  to  Boston,  73, 
103,  no,  117,  122,   128,  13 1-9,    149,   179-81, 
246-54,  580-2  ;  to  Philadelphia,  82,  84,  158, 
167,  172, 389-90, 5S8-9.  New  Zealand,  567-9. 
Ontario  (condensed    from    guide),  3r5-6, 
331-2.  Orange  and  Newark  triangle,  159-62, 
583,  5S8.    Outline  tours,    11-13,    296-301. 
Philadelphia,  388-90.     Providence  to  Wor- 
cester, 109.    St.   Lawrence  River,  325-30, 
V*^>  57S>     St.  Louis  to  Boston,  487-S,  525. 
St.  Louis  to  Staunton,  485-6.    San  Fran- 
cisco to  Boston,  475-80.    Scotland,  553-7. 
Seashore,  90,   108,  132,  138-9,  150-8,  274, 
283.    Shenandoah  Valley,  204,  296,  344-51, 
382-4,388,  494,  590.    Springfield,  1 15-128, 
579-80.    Staten  Island,  15^-S.    Toronto  to 
Kingston,  295-8,  301,  306,  318-25.    Wash- 
ington,  376.    Western    New    York  (con- 
densed front   guide),  221-3,   587.     White 
Mtns.,  575-7.    Yosemite  Valley,  491-2. 
TouriBta:    Books  of  reports  by,  489,  549, 
6731  683-7,  696.    Clothes  and  equipments 
for,  16-22.    Duty  of  demanding  that  wheels 
be  classed  as  baggage  by  all  s.  s.  agents> 

591.  Freedom  of  choice  as  to  scene  of 
tour,  where  no  extra-baggage  tax  is  levied, 

592.  Hotels,  Special  attentions  and  privi- 
leges needed  at,  602-4,  614.  Reports 
wanted  from,  717.  Toilet  articles  needed, 
17.  Wishes  disregarded  by  perfunctory  ad- 
vocates of  "  League  hotel  policy,"  601. 

Tours  from  '79  to  '82,  Outline  of  my  personal, 

11-12,  26-33. 
Towns  named  in  this  book.  Alphabetical  list 

of  3482,  with  84 1 8  references,  xxxv.-lvii. 
Towns    supplying  3200  subscribers  to  this 

book.  Geographical    list    of   887,  765-94 ; 

index  to,  xx. 
Tow-path  touring,  9,  44,  173,  180,  189,  T90, 

192,  199-202,  207-8,  212,  239.42,244-5. 304-5. 

340,  34a-3.  378,  3S4.  479.  488. 
Trade  Directory  :    Alphabetical  list  of  ras 

subscribers  at  whose  offices  this  book  may 

be  consulted,  796-7.    Gec^aphical  lis(  of 


xxxiv      TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


•ame,  79S-9.    Significant  omissions  of  the 
indifferent,  709. 

Trade  in  Cycles :  Agent's  guide  for  the,  679, 
685.  Benefit  received  from  circulation  of 
Whttlman^  659.  Indifference  to  my  book, 
712.    Statistics  of  1877,  ^S^* 

Training,  Books  on,  674-5,  684-6. 

Transportation  Tax,  Thb,  591-600,  x.; 
fees  on  N.  Y.  ferries  and  horse-cars,  86, 
96 ;  touring,  221.  Latest  r.r.'s  on  free  list, 
xci.  Storage  charge  for  wheels  at  English 
railway  stations,  598 ;  in  N.  Y.,  86. 

Trieyoleit  Index  to  makes  of,  Ixxix. 

"Tricycle  Union"  and  "Tricycle  Associa- 
tion,'' History  of  the  defunct  English,  647. 

Trieyolinf !  Books  on,  684-7;  Ladies'  les- 
sons at  Orange,  588.  Long  rides,  509. 
Mileage,  509,  511,  517,  523,  525-6,  530. 
Racing,  523.  Tours  in  Australia,  562-6; 
England,  534,  543 1  554 ;  France,  558,  600 ; 
Italy,  509, 600,  687. 

Triumph,  defined  by  "  H.  H."  (verses),  304. 

Uniform,  Two  essentials  of  a  club-,  19 ;  Price 
of  C.  W.  A.,  635 ;  Profits  of  C.  T.  C  ,  541 ; 
Wanamaker's  L.  A.  W.,  xc. 

Unions  (Cycling)  in  Europe* and  Australia, 
651-2. 

United  Statei,  Abbreviations  of  the,  with 
index  of  chief  references,  Iviii.  (Geo- 
graphical roll  of  the,  from  Maine  to  Cali- 
fornia, with  alphabetical  list  of  residences 
of  subscribers  to  this  book,  734,  765-89. 

Univbrsity  Building,  Thb,  426-72,  xv.: 
Architecture  described  by  several  observers, 
428-34,  439.  Business  management,  457, 
461.  Collegians'  conduct,  428,  459,  466. 
Danger  of  fire,  460.  Defects  as  a  lodging- 
house,  456.  Eminent  residents,  431,  434, 
464-S,  470.  Historical  statistics,  433-5>  437-S. 
Janitor,  438,  443,  456-80,  461-2.  Lack  of 
camaraderity  462.  Pictures,  430,  434. 
Prince  uf  Wales's  visit  in  i860,  469-72. 
Sedusion  of  tenants,  438-9,  454-6,  463-4. 
Servants,  456-8.  Women  residents  and 
visitors,  441-4. 

Yalleyi  and  Kiven,  Index  to,  lix. 

Vandalism  and  vanity  in  Mammoth  Cave,  381. 

Velodpeding  in  1869,  390-406. 


Velveteen,  Excellences  of ,  19,  21. 

Veterans,  Statistics  from  thb,  502-30, 
xvi. 

Victoria:  Cyclists'  Union,  652.  Journals, 
695-^1  558.  Road  races,  559-62.  Subscrib- 
ers, 558,  706,  793-4.    Touring,  560-3,  565. 

Virginia  (index,  590),  University,  350,  435. 

Washington  City  (index,  590.  IvL). 

Waahing:ton  Square  (index,  Ixi.):  as  it 
appeared  in  1835,  i860  and  1878, 432-3  ;  as 
a  camp  in  the  desert,  455 ;  as  scene  of 
elbow-breaking,  24;  as  the  real  center  of 
the  world,  64-65 ;  my  proposed  battle-field 
for  the  beer,  16;  its  Philadelphian  name- 
Mke,  494,  497. 

WaterfallB,  Index  to,  Ixi. 

Weather,  Pointers  as  to,  209,  221,  256,  297- 
300 ;  Summary  of  weather  changes  in  my 
1400  m.  ride,  297-300. 

Whitb  Flannel  and  Nickel  Platb, 
16-22,  ix. 

Wind  as  a  factor  in  riding,  253,  263,  290, 
»97-9f  3«3»3a6,  556,  57a 

Winter  Wheeling,  246-54,  491,  xii. 

Winthrop  (Maj.  T.)  as  a  typical  hero  of  the 
civil  war.  Tribute  to,  439. 

Women  {set  special  index,  Ixxxiii.). 

Xenophon's  fame  as  a  standard,  viii. 

Yacht  Kulinda,  In  the  (verses),  353-4,  367. 

Yachting  in  the  Paleocrystic  Sea  (verses),  23. 

Yachtings  by  wheelmen,  504,  532. 

Yale  College :  Advent  of  the  bone-«haker 
in  1869,  391-5.  Bicyde  races,  660.  Boat- 
race  management  at  New  London,  131. 
Books  about,  133,  405,  466, 711,  722.  Build- 
ings in  1830, 434-5.  Class  biographies,  732. 
Class  of  1837,  464.  Directory  of  New 
York  Graduates,  464.  President  Dwight 
on  the  Connecticut  Valley  roads  in  1803, 
127.  Graduates  alluded  to,  25,  113,  140, 
304,  424f  439i  447»  464.  494,  657,  727,  728, 
732.  Graduates  as  tenants  of  the  Univer- 
sity Building,  465-6.  Harvard's  rivalry,  25, 
256.  Libraries  on  sub.-Iist,  770.  Veloci* 
peding  in  18 19  and  1869,  39S-402.  Utopian 
ideal,  465. 

Yankee,  Types  of  the,  36,  386,  439,  722. 

Zmertych's  (I.)  tour,  London  to  Pesth,  551. 


Comparing  the  675,000  words  in  this  book  with  the  220,000  in  my  "  Four  Years  at  Yale  " 
(728  pp.,  $2.50),  I  see  that  the  price,  at  same  rate,  would  be  $7.50 ;  while,  at  rates  of  T.  Stevens's 
book  (547  pp.  of  230,000  words,  $4),  or  "  Gen.  Grant's  Memoirs  "  (1232  pp.  of  300,500  words, 
$7),  the  price  would  be  $11-75,  °^  t^h*    '^^  V*9I^  o^  ^^J  single  chapter  will  be  mailed  for  as  c 


INDEX  OF  PLACES, 


xxxv 


In  the  followiiig  list  of  towns  named  in  this  book,  those  which  the  '*  U.  S.  06Bdal  Postal 
Guide  "  designates  as  money-order  offices  are  put  in  full-faced  type ;  and  the  star  (*)  marks  such 
as  are  county-seats.  Towns  outside  the  United  States  have  their  countries  given  in  italics. 
A  nonieral  higher  than  764,  shows  that  one  or  more  subscribers  to  the  book  are  catalogued  on  the 
sprofi«»d  page ;  and  the  numben  609,  6to  refer  always  to  the  names  of  subscribing  hotels. 


Abbotsboro,  Pa.,  388.  Abbottstown,  Pa., 
3861.  Aberdeen,  Md.,  497.  Aberdeen,  ^Va/., 
555.  599.  64s.  79a-  Abington,  En^.,  536. 
Abington,  Md.,  497.  AbixigtOXl,  Ms.,  766. 
Academy,  Pa.,  609,  778.  Adams,  Ms.,  193, 
700.  Adams  Cetiter,  N.  Y.,  344-5-  Ad- 
amstown.  Pa.,  387.  Addlson,  N.  Y.,  ai8. 
*Adel,  la.,  787.  Adelaide,  Oni.t  332.  Ad- 
elaide, S.  A$u.t  560-5.  Adelong  Crossing, 
AT.  S.  »^.,  565.  •Adliao,  Mich.,  785.  Ad- 
rianople,  7Wr.,  482.  Agawam,  Ms.,  123, 
128,  146,  179,  180-1,  251,  580.  Agra,  Iful., 
572.  Ailsa  Craig,  Out.,  332.  Airolo,  //., 
552.  *Akroil,  O.,  501,  595,  609,  784.  Ak- 
ron, Pa.,  387.  Alabama,  N.  Y.,  222;  Al- 
amoochy,  N.  J.,  163.     ^Albany,  N.  Y.,  n, 

a9f  3*.  5»»  75.  7*.  85.  '54,  187,  190-s,  i97-«. 
ao9,  221,  378,  471.  479,  487-8,  50*,  507,  5«3, 
5*3-4,  593-4,  597,  604,  656,  770.  *Albia,  la., 
501, 787.  *Albion,  III.,  485-  ^Albion,  Ind., 
785.  *A11iloiif  N.  Y.,  217,  222,  488.  AI- 
bory,  AT.  S.  IV.  t  564-5.  Alconbury,  Enf^.^ 
540-1,  553.  Alden,  N.  Y.,  208, 2x5,  222.  Al- 
deninlle,  Pa.,339.  Aldie,  Va.,  348.  Alexan- 
r,  N.Y.,  222.  Alexandria,  Ky.,  590.  'Al- 
Va.,  373,  376,  465.  Alexandria 
r.  N.  Y.,  333-4.  Alfred,  Oni.,  328.  Ali- 
abad,  /Vr.,  571.  Allahabad,  /lu/.,  572.  Al- 
legany, N.  Y.,  223.  Allegheny  City,  Pa., 
77&  Allendale,  N.  J.,  169.  Allenford,  OhL^ 
316.  Allentown,N.  Y.,22o.  •Allentown, 
Pi»-i  339,  387,  778.  Alliance,  O.,  594.  Al- 
liston,  Omi.f  316.  Allowaystown,  N.  J.,  sai. 
ADstoo,  Ms.,  766.  Almond,  N.  Y.,  217^ 
st8,  323.  Alpine,  N.  J.,  81,  586.  Alten- 
bons,  Aust.f  48r.  Altnamain,  En^-t  536. 
Alt  Getting,  Gtr.,  481.  Alton,  ID.,  501,  594. 
Alton  Bay,  N.  H.,  577.  Altoona,  la.,  479* 
Attoona,  Pa.,  496, 530, 609, 778.  Alvarado, 
C^.,  493.  Alvinston,  (7i>/.,332.  Amenta, 
N.Y.,  t43,  T46-7,  188.  Amesbnry,  Ms.,  102, 
766.  Amhent,  Ms.,  113, 114,  120, 142, 186, 
P3t  579*  766.  Amherst,  N.  S.f  289,  790. 
Amity,  Or.,  788.  Amityville  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
I9M,  584«  AmocTille,  Pa.,  379.  Am- 
sterdam, /Ml,  545.     Amsterdam,  N.  Y., 


197,  200,  20S,  sx6w  Ampthill,  Eng-.f  553. 
Ancaster,  Oni.,  314.  Ancona,  //.,  552.  An- 
doYor,  Ms.,  ti2,  208,  223,  579,  766.  *An- 
geliea,  N.  Y.,  217.  Angola,  N.  Y.,  479. 
Angora,  Tur.,  481-2,  792.  Anita  Springs, 
Ky.,  236.  Annapolis,  N.  S.,  282,  284-5,  609, 
790.  *Ann  Arbor,  Mich.,  501,  595,  609, 
628,  785.  Annisquam,  Ms.,  512.  Ann- 
▼ille.  Pa.,  343.  Ansonia,  Ct.,  139, 140, 14a, 
769.  Antietam,  Md.,  352,  384.  Antigonish, 
A^.  S.,  289,  790.  Antwerp,  Btl.,  532,  545, 
599.  Antwerp,  N.  Y.,  334.  Apalachin, 
N.  Y.,  2t8.  Appleton  City,  Mo.,  787. 
^Appomattox,  Va.,  346.  Ararat,  yic/.,  560- 
2,  566,  696.  Arcadia,  Mo.,  528.  Areola,  N. 
J.,  165-6,  169.  Ardmore,  Pa.,  389,  609,  778. 
Argyle,  -AT.  S.,  293.  •Argyle,  N.  Y.,  193. 
Arkona,  Ont.,  332.  Arkport,  N.  Y.,  22a. 
Arkwright,  Ont.,    3x6.    Arlington,  Minn., 

787.  Arlon,  Bel,  545.  Armada,  Mich., 
785.  Amheim,  Be/.,  545.  Amprior, Oni.,  327. 
Arran,  Oni.,  315.  Arthur,  Oh/.,  316.  Arva, 
Ont.,  312.  •Asheville,  N.  C,  500.  Ash- 
ford,  Eftg'.,  790.  Ashford,  N.  Y.,  75,  79,  80. 
Ashland,  Ky.,  590,  783.  Ashland,  Ms., 
III.  Ashland,  N.  H.,  577.  •Ashland,  O., 
784.  Ashland,  Pa.,  778.  Ashland,  Va., 
351.  Ashmore,  III.,  489, 786.  Ashtabula* 
O.,  12,  28,  31,  50,  205,  479,  487,  488,  594. 
Ashton,  R.  I.,  109.  Ashton,  Md.,  373,  376, 
497.  Ashton-under-Tyne,  Eng.,  645.  Ash- 
uelot,  N.  H.,  579.  Ashville,  N.  Y.,  587. 
Asterabad,  Rm.,  571.  Astoria  (L.  I.),  VC. 
Y.,  28,  32,  97,  98.  153,  584.    *Astoria,  Or., 

788.  'Atchison,  Kan.,  594.  Athol,  Ms., 
488,  579.  Athole,  Scot.,  556.  Athens, 
N.  Y.,  770.  Atherton,  Ont.,  332.  Atkin- 
son, 111.,  479-  •Atlanta,  Ga.,  352,  594,  597- 
AtUoa,  N.  Y.,  216,  222.  •Anbnm,  Gal., 
476.  *Aubnm,  Ind.,785.  •AnbnmN.Y.; 
201,208,212,  770.  Auckland,  tf.  Z.,  566, 
567,  568,  794.  Augsburg,  Ger.,  481.  Au- 
gnsta,  Ky.,  590, 609, 783.  •Augusta,  Me., 
573,  574,  597,  609,  765.  Auma,  Ger.,  552. 
•Austin,  Tex.,  783.  Anrora,  III.,  609, 786. 
Aurora,  N.   Y.,  215.      Aurora,    Otd.,    316. 


xxxvi       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Auaablo  Chasm,  N.  Y.,  an.  Auxy-le- 
Chateau,  />.,  558.  A  venal,  VicL^  565. 
ArenUalc,  Vict.,  565.  Avon,  Ct.,  145. 
Avon,  N.  Y.,  223.  Avondalc,  N.  J.,  z66, 
167,  169,  5S3.  Avondale,  O.,  784.  Avon 
Springs,  N.  Y.,  30, 213, 218.  Ayer  Junction, 
Ms.,  128.  Aylmcr,  Oni.,  315,  319,  327,  331, 
13a*  634.  Ayr,  Oni.^  317.  Ayr,  Scot.^  686. 
Babylon  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150, 152-4.  Bad- 
deck,  N.  S.,  2S9.  Baden,  Oni.,  316-7.  Bad 
Lands,  Wyo. ,  477.  Bainbridge,  N.  Y. ,  49S. 
Baku,  Jius.f  571.  Balcony  Falls,  Va.,  347, 
35a  Baldock,  £»£".,  540.  Baldwin,  111.,  528. 
Baldwin,  N.  Y.,  xS6.  Bale,  Swiix,,  599. 
Ballarat,  yici.,  559,  560-2,  793.  Ballardsville, 
Ky. ,  236.  *Ballston,  N.  Y. ,  197, 208.  Bal- 
timoie,  Md.,  29,  3x,  238,  241-4,  349,  373, 

J76-7»  390>  437f  436-7,  497,  SU,  S^Si  575.  S^S, 
589, 592-4,  609, 627-8,  643,  652,  78 1.  Bangor, 
^V,645-  ^Bangor,  Me.,  278-9,  397,  515, 
5*3.  574, 59a.  66x,  765.  Barbonrsville,  W. 
Va.,  351.  *Bardstown,  Ky.,  229,  230, 234, 
a37.  5*7, 609,  783-  Bar  Harbor,  Me.,  274, 
>78,  279,  515,  574.  Barkhamsted,  Ct.,  144. 
Bar-le-Duc,  />.,  480.  Barnes ville.  Pa.,  245. 
Bamet,  ^aj^',  539,  540,  54i*  Barr,  Col.,  501. 
Bane,  Vt.,  578,  766.  Barrie,  Oni.,  316. 
Barrington,  A^.  ^.,288.  Barryfield,  OfU.,  325. 
Barrytown,  N.  Y.,  510.  Bartlett,  N.  H., 
576-7.  Bartleyville,  N.  J.,  164.  Barton,  N. 
Y.,  319.  Bartow,  N.  Y.,  31.  Bartville,  III., 
479^  Basle,  Stuitz.,  532, 545,  552.  Batainttz, 
Sia»,t  481.  ^Batavia,  N.  Y.,  208,  215,  217, 
22a,  487,  501,  770.  Bath,  £n^.,  4,  532,  538, 
544, 55 «•  554.  567, 645,  79o-  •Bath,  Me.,  577. 
Bath,  N.  H.,  578.  Bath,  Otti.,  325.  Battle 
Creek,  Mich.,  785.  Battle  Mountain, 
Nev.,  476.  •Bay  City,  Mich.,  785.  Bay- 
field, Otti.,  3>3»  3Mi  33a-  Bayonne,  N.  J., 
158.  Bay  Ridge  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  90,  583.  Bay 
Shore (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  152.  Bay  Side  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  150.  Bealton,  Otti.,  332.  Beamsville, 
Oftt.t  315.  Beard,  Ky.,  236.  Bear  Wallow, 
Ky.,  230.  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.,  514-5,  778. 
Beaufort,  Vicf.t  560.  Beaumont,  0«/.,  33a 
Becclea,  Eng".,  539.  Becket,  Ms.,  xai,  193. 
Bedford,  Enj^.,  532,  540,  541,  557,645.  Bed- 
ford, M  S.,  2S7.  ^Bedford,  Pa.,  496,  530, 
6o9b  77S.  Bedfordshire,  £'^.,  532.  Bedford 
Springs,  Pa.,  244,  496.  Beech  Cliff,  Pa., 
778.  Beeston,  £fi£^.,  790.  Beeston  Castle, 
Effgr-t  536.  Bei  Basaar,  7wr.,  482.  •Bel 
Air,  Md.,  344, 379, 377.    Bela  Palanka,  7»r., 


481.  Belchertown,  Ms.,  1x3, 144, 579.  Bel- 
fast, /re.,  499, 645.  'Belfast,  Me.,  574, 765. 
Belfast,  N.  Y.,  2x7,  223.  Belfort,  />.,  59^ 
Belgrade,  Serv.,  4S1.  Belgrave,  OnL,  333. 
Belhaven,  Oftt.,  316.  Belief ontaine.  Mo., 
525.  'Belief ontaine,  O.,  501.  Belleville, 
N.  J. ,  84, 166.  Belleville,  Oni. ,  297, 3  x  7, 3 19, 
320,  32X,  322,  324,  3*5.  327,  33i,  635.  789- 
BellevTie,  O. ,  4 79.  Bellows  Falls,  Vt. ,  n, 
29,  31,  X18, 119,  x8i,  183,  1S4,  578,  766.  Bell- 
port  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  X50, 153.  Bell's  Comers, 
Oni.,  327.  Bellville,  O.,  784.  Belmont, 
Cal.,  493.  Belmont,  Mc,  574.  'Belmont, 
N.  Y. ,  223.  Belmont,  Pa. ,  339, 389.  Beloit, 
Wis.,7S7.  Belone,  Kan.,4S5.  'Belvidere, 
111.,  786.  Bemis  Heights,  N.  Y.,  x86,  190. 
Benalla,  Vict.,  565.  Benares,  Ind.,  57a. 
Benklcroan,  Neb.,  501.  Bennettsville,  Ind., 
235.  'Bennington,  Vt.,  x86,  X9x,  X93,  594, 
627,766.  Beowawe,  Nev.,  477.  Berea,0., 
784.  Bergen,  Den.,  599.  Bergen,  N.  Y., 
215,  222.  Bergen  Point,  N.  J.,  84,156, 158. 
168,169,583.  Bergerae, />.,558.  'BerliLe* 
ley  Springs,  W.  Va.,  496.  Berkhamsted, 
Efig- >  473. 480.  Berkshire,  Ms.,  X93.  Berlin, 
Ct.,  128,  136,  137,  X38, 149,  X91,  581.  Berlin, 
Ger.,  426,  552,  646,  651,  697,  793.  Berlin, 
Oni.,  316,  317.  Bemardston,  Ms.,  31,  38, 
X19, 182, 576(723).  Berne,  Svuifg.,  545.  Bem- 
villc,  Ind.,  485.  'BerryviUe,  Va.,  244,  383, 
384.497.78a-  Berthier,  ^«/.,33o.  Berwick, 
JV.  S.,  285,  293.  Berwick,  Pa.,  497,  778^ 
Berwyn,  Pa.,  389.  Besan^on,  Fr.,  545. 
Bethany,  Ct.,  582.  Bethel,  Me.,  576-7. 
Bethel,  Vt.,  578.  Bethlehem,  N.  H.,  577. 
Bethlehem,  Pa.,  387,  389,  778.  Bethune- 
ville,  N.  Y.,  2x1.  Beverly,  Ms.,  655,677, 
766.  Beverly,  N.  J.,  X73,  522,  776.  Bic, 
Qtte.,  329,  330.  Biddeford,  Me.,  575,  627. 
Biggleswade,  Eng-.,  540-1,  557-8,  645.  Billa- 
bong,  U.  S.  IV.,  564-5.  Billerica,  Ms.,  113. 
Bingham,  Me.,  573-4.  'Binghamton,  N. 
Y.,  21,  28,  3x,  206,  2x8,  219,  302,  308. 
337,  338,  340,  50«,  627,  770.  Birchton,  Oni., 
327.  Bird-in-Uand,  Pa.,  378.  Birdshaw, 
Pa.,  484.  Birjand,  Per.,  571.  •Btrmiag^ 
ham,  Ala. ,  783.  Birmingham,  Ct.,  139,  X40, 
X42,  769.  Birmingham,  Eng.,  480,  532,  539, 
546,  554,  64a,  645,  646, 647, 684, 688, 695,  790. 
Birr,  Oni.,  313.  Bishop's  Gate,  Oni,,  333. 
Bishop  Stortford,  Eng.,  541.  Bitter  Crock, 
Wyo.,  477.  Blackheath,  ^Ji^.,686.  Black 
Biver,  N.  Y.,  594.    Black  Rook,  N.  Y.,  sa. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES, 


XXZVll 


ao3.    Bladensbarg,    Md.,   944,    376.    Blair 
Athole,  .Sctf/.,  536.    Blairstown,  N.  J.,  163, 
aoj.    BlairaYille,  Pa.,  496.    Blakeley,  Pa., 
341.    Blandford,  Ms.,  121,  208.    Blanshard, 
Ont.t  332.    Blaabeuren,  Cer.y  481.    Blawen- 
burg,  N.  J.,   172,  377.    Bloomfleld,  Ky., 
237.    Bloomfield,  N.  J.,  38,  56,  158,  159, 
162,776.    BIoomingdale,N.  J.,170.   *Bloom- 
ingion,  in.,  501, 529, 595-6, 786.   Bloirtiurg, 
Pa.,   778.    Blue  Bonneta,  Ont.^  328.    Bhxe 
Canyon,  Cal.,  476.     Blue  Lick  Spring,  Ky., 
233.     Blue  Stores,  N.  Y.,  192,  196.     Blythe, 
Ok/.,  332.    BoardvUle,  N.  J.,  170.     Bodmin, 
-ff«!r-.    536.    Bogalong,    N.    S.     IV.,    561. 
•Boise  City,  Id.,  609,  788.    Bokhara,  Rut., 
570.    Bolac,  Fa:/.,  561.     Bold  Bridge,  J^'n^., 
5S7.    Bologna,  //.,  552.    Bolton,  N.  Y.,  186. 
Bonar,  Eng.,  536.     Bonn,  Ger.,  697.    Book- 
lam,  N.  S.  ly.,  565.    Boonsboro,  Md.,  242, 
349-     Boontoii,   N.   J.,   84.    •Boonvilto, 
Mo.,    787.  \BoonTille,    N.   Y.,  201.     Bor- 
deaux, Fr.f  552, 599, 699.    Bordentown,  N. 
J.,  323,  522,  609,  776.    Bordentown,  S.Aus., 
561.     Borough  Bridge,  Eng.,  554.     Borriso- 
leigh,   /nr.,   546.     Boscawen,   N.   H.,   577. 
Boaton,  Ind.,  485.    'Boston,  Ms.,  2,  4,  12, 
a«.  a5-9.  3>.  33 »  3^,  48,  51,  58,  85,  94,  101- 
xy,  126-8,  133,  138,  151,  181-3,  204,  208,  249, 
358-^,  276,  279,  282,  288-9,  29a-3t  3*0-*.  3a4» 
356,  366-7,  370-2,  376*  378,  384.  386,  388,  427, 
43«»  446,  468-71, 473-5»  470-80,  485,  487-9.  49a. 
499.  5»>  503-5»  S07-8,  5»«-«4t  5«6-i8,  522-6, 
55a.  57»»  573-4i  577»  579-8o,  582,   584,   587, 
59»-4.  597.  600,  602,  607,  609,  615-17,  625-7, 
631,  ^3-4,  646,   653,  655-8,  662,   664,  668, 
673-4. 676-7,  680, 687,  703,  705,  707-8,  711, 712, 
7>3,  766.     Boston,  Ont.,  332.     Boston  Cor- 
ners, N.  Y.,  18S.   Bound  Brook,   N.  J.,  167, 
»7«»    377.    776.      Bowmansville,   Oni.,  319, 
335.      Bowmansville,  N.  Y.,  217.      Bowna, 
M  S.   W.,  565.     Bowning,  N.  S.  H^.,  566. 
Boocherville,  Of^.,  328.     Boulogne,  France, 
599.    •Bosemaa,  Mon.,  788.   Bnusevilte, 
111.,  786.    Bnddoek,   Pa.,  485.     Bradford, 
Eng.,  517,  545.  644-5.  790-    Bradford,  Vt., 
578.     Brady  Island,  Neb.,  478.     Brampton, 
Omi.f  319.      Branchville,  Ct.,  138.     Branch- 
vtlle,  N.  J.,  164,  510.    Brandon,  Vt.,  579. 
Branford,  Ct.,  30,  T32-3, 149,  511,  769.    Brant- 
ford,  Ont.,  314,  317,  331.  33>.  634-    Brattle- 
boro,  Vt.,  »f,  29,  33,  51,  119,  182, 191,  579, 
609,  766.    ^Bnoil,  Ind.,  486.     Bread  Loaf 
(Ion),  Vt.,  578.     Bremen,  G«r.,  59a.    Brent- 


wood, Cal.,  50a  Brealaa,  Oni.,  316,  317. 
Brewerton,  N.  Y.,  335.  Brewster,  N.  Y.,  188. 
Brick  Church,  Md.,  373.  Brick  Ohnroh,  N. 
J.,  776.  Bride«tow,^«^.,536.  Bridgehamp- 
ton  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  155.  Bridgeworth,  Eng., 
536,  554.  •Bridgeport,  Ct.,  30,  51,  133-4, 
138,  158,  237,  248,  249,  485,  49if  500,  769. 
Bridgeton,  Me.,  574,  577.  Bridgetown,  N. 
S.,  284-S.  Bridgewater,  Eng.,  536,  555-6. 
Bridgewater,  Ms.,  767.    Bridport,  Eng., 

646.  Brighton,  Eftg.,  480,  533,  547,  598, 646. 

647,  682.  Brighton,  Ms.,  29,  31,  107,  109, 
111,  113,  114.  Brighton,  N.  Y.,  770.  Bright- 
on, Ofti.,  319,  320,  321,  325,  789.  Bright- 
wood,  D.  C,  349,  376,  497.  Brightwood, 
Ms.,  767.  Brimfiekl,  Ms.,  129.  Brisbane, 
QnttnsL,  652,  793.  Bristol,  Ct.,  58a,  769. 
Bristol,  Eng.,  536,  545,  5So-i,  SS6,  64a,  646, 
647.790.  Bristol,  Pa.,  164, 173.778.  •Bris- 
tol, R.  I.,  107,  ro8,  142,  581.  Bristol  Arms, 
Ont.,  319.  Brookport,  N.  Y.,  217,  aaa. 
Brockton,  Ms.,  106,  109,  iia,  516,  767. 
Brooton,  N.  Y. ,  587.  Brockville,  Oni. ,  326-7, 
333.  Brodheadsvilie,  Pa.,  341.  Bromley, 
Eng.,  790.  Bronico,  //.,  552.  Brookfleld, 
Ms.,  104,  114.  Brook  Haven  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
150,153.  Brooklino,  Ms.,609.  Brooklyn, 
la.,  479-  ^Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  27,  32,  33,  57, 
85-9».  97.  99.  >oo,  111,  148,  153,  155,  346, 
a5«»  5*4.  583-6,  62$,  628,  655,  678,  770. 
Brookville,  Md.,  376.  BrookviUs,  Pa., 
778.  Brown*s  Gap,  Va.,  348.  Brownsboro, 
Ind.,  236.  Brownsboro,  Tex.,  783.  Browna- 
ville,  Md. ,  245.  Brownsvills,  Pa.,  496, 609, 
778.  Brucefield,  Ont.,  313.  Brush,  Col., 
501.  Brushville,  N.  Y.,  2x4.  Bnimfield, 
Ky.,  228,  234.  Brunswick,  Me.,  765. 
Brunswick,  Oer.,  687.  Brussels,  Bei.,  645, 
651,  699.  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa.,  389-90.  495- 
Buangor,  Viei.,  560.  Buckden,  Eng.,  541. 
Buckhorn,  Ont.,  332.  Buckingham,  Eng., 
539.  Buckland,  Va.,375.  Bncksport,  Me., 
278,  574.  Buckaville,  Pa.,  497.  •Bucyms, 
O.,  488,  784.  Budapest,  Hung.,  481,  551, 
792.  Buelville,  N.  Y.,  336.  Buffalo,  Ky., 
230.  •Buffalo,  N.  Y.,9,  la,  28,  50,  52,  X78, 
198,  203.6,  208,  214-17,  221-3,  3»S»  3<7.  S». 
3a«.  475.  479-80,  487-8,  501,  5*4.  573.  587- 
8,  594,  609,  617,  620,  627,  771.  Buffalo 
Gap,  Va.,  486.  Bull  Run,  Va., 375.  Bunder 
Guz,  y?«tt.,  571.  Bungay,  Eng.,  539.  Bunin> 
yong,  Viet. J  559,  563.  Bunker  Hill,  Ms., 
386.    Booker  Hill,  Va.,  348)  388.    Bureau, 


xxxviii     TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


in.,  489.  Burford,  CTm/.,  317.  Bai^Koyne, 
Onl.^  315-16.  Burke»  N.  Y.,  771.  •Bnrlhig- 
ton,  la. ,  485-6, 787.  Burlington,  N .  J. ,  390, 
saa.  •Burlington,  Vt,  578,  594-5,  766. 
Burntisland,  Scot.^  536.  Bury,  Eng.^  790. 
Bury  St.  Edmunds,  Eng.,  645,  79a  Bush- 
kill,  Pa.,  ao7,  a99,  34i,  497-  BuBhnell, 
111.,  485-6.  Butte,  Moot.,  788.  Byron  Center, 

N.  Y.,215. 

Cabin  John  Bridge,  D.  C,  376,  497.  Ca- 
couna,  OtU.y  339-30.  Cahir,  /rr.,  546. 
•Cairo,  III.,  595.  Calais,  />.,  558,  599. 
•Calais,  Me.,  a6a-8,  573, 609,  765.  Calcutta, 
/km/.,  57i-a.  Caldwell,  N.  J.,  58,  i6i-a, 
609,  776.  Caldwell,  N.  Y.,  11,  39,  33,  186, 
191-a,  ail,  510,  771.  Caledonia,  N.  Y., 
ao8,  aaa.  Caledonia,  Ont.^  33a.  Caledonia 
Springs,  OtU.t  337^8.  Caliatoga,  Cal.,  49a 
Callan,  /rv.,  79a.  Calttmet,  Mich.,  785. 
Camac  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  158.  Cambridge, 
^ng.,  533, 539, 541, 544, 557»  646, 790.  •Cam- 
bridge, Ms.,  a9,  51,  loi,  103,  113,  4oa-3, 
43 5»  485,  5«7f  637,  657,  767.  Cambridge, 
N.  Y.,  193.  Cambridge,  O.,  345.  Cam- 
bridgeport,  Ms.,  516, 517, 767.  'Camden, 
N.  J.,  173,  a  18,  389-90,  531-3,  776.  Camden, 
N.  S.  IV.,  565-6.  Cameron,  N.  Y.,  318. 
Camillus,  N.  Y.,  308,  aia.  Camipbellsburg, 
Ind.,  336.  Campbellton,  Ofti.,  339.  Camp- 
belltown,  //.  S.  IV.,  565.  Campbelltown, 
Tas.,  564.  Camperdown,  K«r/.,  559-60. 
Campobello,  AT.  B.,  370,  379.  Campton  Vil- 
lage, N.  H.,  577.  Canaan  Four  Comers, 
N.  Y.,  148.  Canaian,  Ct.,  700.  Canaan, 
N.  Y.,  X97.  •Canandaigua,  N.  Y.,  38, 
30»  3«,  33,  58,  30I-3,  ao8,  aia,  313,  397,  479, 
488,  773.  CanaJoharie»  N.  Y.,  30a  Can- 
astOta,  N.  Y.,  308,  336.  Candleman's 
Ferry,  Va.,  383,  497.  Caneadea,  N.  Y., 
314,317.  Canisteo,  N.  Y.,  317,  318. 
Canmer,  Ky.,  330.  Canterbury,  N.  Y.,  51a 
Canterbury,  Eng.,  530,  687.  Canton,  C4u., 
57a.  Canton,  Ct.,  145.  Canton,  111.,  786U 
•Canton,  O.,  501,  595,  609,  784.  Canton, 
Ms.,  37.  Canton,  Pa.,  499,  778.  Cape 
Town,  S.A/.^btfo.  Capon  Springs,  W.  Va. , 
495-7.  Cap  Rouge,  ^MT.,  330.  Capua,  //., 
55a.  Caramut,  Viet.,  561.  Carbon,  Wyo., 
477*  Carbondale,  Pa.,  340.  Cardiff,  Eng., 
^3,  79O'  Caribridge,  Seci.,  556.  Carlin, 
Ner.,  477.      Carlisle,  Eng.,  545,  554,  643, 

687.  •Carliale,  Pa.,  45. 303, 344,  485.  Car- 
tow,    Out.,   315.      Carlsudt,    N.    J.,  83-4, 


166-7,588.  •Carmi,  I1I.,786.  Carpenter,  Pa., 
778.  Camavon,  Eng.,  790.  •Carson,  Nev  , 
478.  Carter,  Wyo.,  477,  48a  Carrollton, 
N.  Y.,  333.  Casey,  la.,  478.  Cashd,  /rv., 
546.  Cassadaga,  N.  Y.,  5S7.  77a.  Cass- 
bura  Comers,  Ont.,  338.  Castile,  N.  Y., 
333.  Castlemaine,  Vict.,  560-1.  Castle- 
martyr,  Irt.,  546,  79a.  Castleton,  N.  Y., 
148,  190,  197.  Castleton,  Vt.,  184.  Ca»> 
tres,  Fr.,  55a.  Castroyille,  Cal.,  490. 
Catford  Hill,  Eng.,  790.  Cathcart,  OtU., 
317.  •Catlettsburg,  Ky.,  486,  590.  Ca- 
tonsTille,  Md.,  373.  •CaUkill,  N.  Y., 
187-8,  191, 198.  Cattaraugus,  N.  Y.,  333. 
Catterick,  Eng.,  545.  Cauheme,  Rtmm,, 
481.  Cave  City,  Ky.,  31,  a3i-3,  334,  597, 
609,  783.  Cawnpore,  Ind.,  57a.  Cazton, 
Eng.,  540-1.  Cayuga,  N.  Y.,  33,  ao8.  Caa»- 
noyia,  N.  Y.,  43,  319,  396,  398,  30a,  336, 
609,  77a.  Cedar  Grove,  N.  J.,  166.  Cedar 
Bapids,  la.,  594.  Center  Harbor,  N.  H., 
576.  Centerport  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151.  Cen- 
tertown.  Mo.,  485.  Centerville,  Cal.,  493, 
Centerville,  Ct.,  135,  138,  149,  349,  581. 
Centerville,  Ky.,  a33.  Centerville,  N.  J., 
164.  Centerville,  N.  Y.,  335,  497.  Center- 
ville, Va.,  374.  Central  City,  Neb.,  478, 
489.  Central  Square,  N.  Y.,  335.  Chadd's 
Ford,  Pa.,  388,  39a  ChapliA,  Ky.,  a37. 
•Chambersburg,  Pa.,  303,  344,  485,  495, 
497-8,  609,  778.  Cbampaign,  111.,  786. 
Chancellorsville,  Va.,  347,  35a.  Chao-cfaoo- 
foo,  Chi.,  57a.  Chappaqua,  N.  Y.,  76. 
Charing  Cross,  £m^.,  531.  Charing  Cross, 
Oni.,  333.  •Cbariton,  la.,  787.  Charles- 
bour^g,  Oni.,  330.  •Cbarleston,  111.,  786. 
•Charleston,  S.  C,  355.  •Charleston, 
W.  Va.,  351.  Charlestown,  Ind.,  a35. 
Charlestown,  Ms.,  767.  Charlestown, 
N.  H.,  575-6.  •Charlestown,  W.  Va., 
383-4.  •Charlotte,  N.  C,  500,  78a.  Char- 
lolle,  N.  Y.,  333.  Chariottetown,  P.  E.  /., 
289-91,  593.  •Charlottesville,  Va.,  348, 
350-1.  Chartiers,  Pa. ,  594.  Chateau  Richer, 
Q^'^  330.  Chatham,  Eng.,  59S.  Chatham, 
N.  J.,  163,  174,  776.  Chatham,  N.  Y.,  148, 
'97,  500,  609,  773.  Chatham,  Oni.,  331-3. 
Chatsworth,  Oni.,  316.  •Chattanooga, 
Tenn.,  501,  783.  Chautauqua,  N.  Y.,  aa3, 
587.  •Cheboygan,  Mich.,  785.  Chelms- 
ford, Eng.,  645.  Chelsea,  Ms.,  535,  530, 
663,  767.  Chelsea,  Out.,  337.  *Chelsea, 
Vt.,  578.    Chemnita,  Q»r,,  553.    Chemung, 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


XXXIZ 


N.  Y.,  a  18.    Gienango  Forks,  N.  Y.,  336^ 
Cherbourg,  Fr.^  599.    Choshire,  Ct.,  30,  31, 

48,  134-5.  «3^.  aSOf  58».  <»9»  769-  Chesh- 
ire, Eng.^  645-6.  Cheshire,  Ms.,  193. 
Chesterville,  IB.,  485.  Chestnut  Hill  Reserw 
voir,  Ms.,  39,  114.  Chester,  Bng,^  539. 
Chester,  Ms.,  tax,  194.  Chester,  N.  J., 
173.  Chester,  A^.  S.^  a88,  393.  Chester, 
N.  Y.,  340,  587.  Chester,  Pa.,  a44,  37*, 
377*  39o>  778.  Chesterton,  Ind.,  479. 
CHieticarop,  N.  5*.,  389.  ^Cheyenne,  Wyo., 
475»  478. 489*  609, 6a8,  788.  •Chicago,  111., 
a,  »«.  30.  3'»33.38,  5o»  61,  113,  aas,  225,331, 
a4at  a4S»  296,  310,  313,  314,  3»7.  320-1,  334, 
4*6,  436,  474,  475.  478-80,  487-9,  499,  501, 
506,  508,  517-19,  523-4,  529.  574,  585,  594-6, 
598,  616,  637,  643,  655,  673,  677,  679,  683, 
711,  713,  786.  Chichester,  Eng.^  694. 
Cfaicopee,  Ms.,  31,  38, 118,  133-6,  x8i,  580, 
767.  Chicopee  Falls,  Ms.,  134-5,  iBx,  767. 
ChDtem,  Vict.,  565.  Chinese  Camp,  Cal., 
491.  ChittenangO,  N.  Y.,  336,  488.  Chit- 
tenden, Ky.,  325.  Christchurch,  N.  Z., 
567-4^,  653,  696,  794.  Christiania,  Nor.^  700. 
Churchville,  N.  Y.,  3x5.  Churchville, 
Md.,  373.  Cicero,  N.  Y.,  335.  'Cincin- 
nati, O.,  31-3.  XX3,  333,  325-6,  334,  488, 
5o»,  594,  595,  597,  678,  784.  Cincinnatus, 
N.  Y.,  336-7,  773.  Cimtaxninson,  N.  J., 
776.  Cirencester,  ^«^.,  790.  Clacton,^*^., 
559.  Clandeboye,  Ont.,  3"-i3,  332-  Clap- 
ton, Eng, ,  534.  Claremont.  N.  H. ,  574, 579. 
ClarexK^,  Eng.^  544.  Clarence,  Ont.^  327-8. 
Qarendon,  Ont,^  338.  Clarendon,  Ktc/., 
559.  *Clarion,  Pa.,  778.  Clark's  Ferry, 
Pa.,  496.  Clark's  Summit,  Pa.,  341.  Clarks- 
ville.  Md.,  373,  376,  497.  Clarksville,  Mo., 
32a.  Qashmore  Inn,  Scet.^  536,  555.  Clav- 
erack,  N.  Y.,  197.  Clay  Center,  Kan., 
485-6.  ^Clearfield,  Pa.,  304,  530,  593,  609, 
778.  dear  Spring,  Md.,  343,  344.  Clear- 
Tilk,  Ont.f  3>o-i2,  314.  Clearville,  Pa.,  496. 
Qemensport,  N.  S.,  385.  Clermont,  N.  Y., 
X96.  •Cleveland,  O.,  315,  479.  487-8,  5«>, 
501,  536,  593,  594-5,  637,  643-5,  7*4-  Cleve- 
bxid's  Mill,  Cal.,  490.  Clifton  (S.  I.),  N.  Y., 
377-  Clifton  Forge,  Va.,  350.  Clinton, 
Ci.,  133.  Clinton,  Ms.,  138.  Clinton, 
N.  Y.,  77a.  Cnnton,  Oni.,  313,  3x5,  333. 
CGpper  Gap,  Cal.,  476,  480.  Qoster,  N.  J., 
fo.  Coadxnan,  Cal.,  49 '•  Cloverdale, 
Cal.,  490-  Olyda,  It  Y.,  488.  Clyde, 
y  S.,  393.    Gov'  Coates- 


ville,  Pa.,  388,  495.  Coblentx,  Ger.^  545. 
Cobourg,  Oni.,  198,  304,  397,319-ai,  S2hi»St 
523.  Cochecton,  N.  Y.,  570.  Cockshutt, 
OfU.,  333.  Coffee  Run,  Pa.,  344.  Cohasset, 
Ms.,  XX3.  Cohoes,  N.  Y.,  191-3,  773.  Co- 
lac,  AT.  S.  fV.f  56X,  565.  Colac,  Krc/.,  560-1, 
563.  Colbome,  Oni.,  319,  335.  Colchester, 
Eng.,  54X,  647.  Coldbrook,  Ms.,  579. 
Cold  Spring,  N.  Y.,  194,  197,  500.  Cold 
Spring  Harbor  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  28,  5S4,  773. 
•Coldwater,  Mich.,  785.  Colebrook,  Ct., 
X44,  146.  Coleraine,  Ms.,  579.  Colesville, 
Md.,  376,  497.  Colfax,  Cal.,  476.  Colfax, 
la.,  479.  College  Hiil,  O.,  784.  CoUinsby, 
Oni.,  325.  Collingswood,  Oni.,  3x6.  Col- 
Unsville,  Ct.,  145.  •Colorado  Springs, 
Col.,  788.  Colosse,  N.  Y.,  335.  Columbia, 
N.  J.,  164.  Columbia,  Pa.,  3x7,  378,  386, 
388-9,  486,  499,  609, 778.    •Columbia,  S.  C, 

782.  •Columbus,  Ga.,  782.  •Columbus, 
Ind.,  785.  •Colimibus,  Miss.,  783.  Co- 
lumbus, N.  Y.,  587.  •Columbus,  O.,  345, 
487-8,  501,  595,  627,  784.  Concord,  Ms., 
X03,  1x2,  597, 767.  •Concord,  N.  H.,  576-7, 
766.  Conewango,  N.  Y.,  223.  Coney  Island, 
N.  Y.,  27.  Conneaut,  O.,  479.  Con- 
nellsville.  Pa.,  496.  Conrad's  Store,  Va., 
348.  Conroy,  Ofit.,  332.  Conshohocken, 
Pa.,  389.  Constance,  ^rcfiifs.,  55a.  Constan- 
tinople, Tttr.,  474,  480-3,  553,  57t,  609,  79a. 
Conway,  Ms.,  767.  Conway,  N.  H.,  5x5, 
577.  Conyngham,  Pa.,  498.  Como,  ftafy, 
468.  Como,  Oni.,  338.  Cook's  Bay,  Ottf., 
316.  Coolatoo,  yict.,  560.  Cookston,  Oni., 
316.  Cooksville,  C7m/.,  3X8-X9.  Cooma,  Cal., 
493.  •Cooperstown,  N.  Y.,  197,  3x5,  378. 
Cooperstown,  Pa.,  389.  Copake  Falls, 
N.  v.,  x88.  Copenhagen,  Den,,  599,  645. 
Cordelia,  Cal.,  49X.  Corinne,  Utah,  477. 
•Corinth,  Miss.,  353.  Cork,  /fv.,  546,  645. 
•Coming, "N.  Y.,  30,  3x6-19,  50X,  773.  Cor- 
nish, N.  H.,  577.  Cornwall,  Ct.,  143. 
Cornwall,  N.  Y.,  X71, 194, 197, 773.  Cornwall, 
Oni.^  327.  Cornwall,  Vt.,  579.  Cornwall 
Bridge,  Ct.,  510.  ComwaU-on-Hudson, 
N.  Y.,  609,  772.    •Corpus  Christi,  Tex., 

783.  Corry,  Pa.,  587,  609,  778.  •Cort- 
land, N.  Y.,  773.  •Corydon,  Ind.,  335. 
Cote  St.  Antoine,  Qw.,  328.  Cote  St.  Luke, 
Que.,  328.  Coteau  du  Lac,  Qtte.,  575.  Cot- 
tage, N.  Y.,  223.  •Council  BlufHi,  la., 
478,  489,  595.  Court  House  Station  (S.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  X55.    Courtbtnd,  On/.,  33a.    Covmi* 


] 


xl 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


tiy,  Eng,,  480*  53a.  546,  $5«»  554f  5S7,  654, 
6tt3,  688,  690,  693,  694-6,  790.  *C0Villgt0ll, 
Ky.,  30,  225,  35«f  59o»  678,  783.  •Coving- 
tim,  Va.,  486.  GooEsaokie,  N.  Y.,  190. 
Coyote,  Cal.,  492.  Craig's  Meadows,  Pa., 
341.  Cranberry,  O.,  488.  Crane's  Flats, 
Cal.,  491.  Crane's  Village,  N.  Y.,  479. 
Crawford,  Scot.,  556,  576.  Crawford  House, 
N.  H.,  576-7.  Cresson  Springs,  Pa.,  496. 
Crocker's,  Cal.,  491.  Croton,  N.  Y.,  194. 
Croton  Falls,  N.  Y.,  188,  772.  Croydon, 
Eng.y  480,  533,  790.  Crown  Point,  N.  Y., 
186.  Crum's  Point,  Ind.,  479.  Cuddeback- 
ville,  N.  Y.,  340,  587.  Culbertson,  Neb.,  501. 
*Ciilpeper,  Va.,  348,  350.  *Ciimberland, 
Md.,  12,  29,  31,  238,  240-46,  782.  Curwens- 
ville.  Pa.,  609,  778. 

.  *DaUai,  Tex.,  628.  Dalton,  Ms.,  121, 193. 
Dalton,  N.  Y.,  222.  Dalwhinnie,  Seoi.^ 
556.  Damascus,  Md.,  376.  *Danbury,  Ct., 
769.  Danforth,  ^ff/.,  316.  DansviUe,  N. 
Y.,  33.  a«3-M,  «»»»  772-  ♦Danvlllo,  111., 
489.  Danville,  N.  J.,  164.  DanvUle,  Pa.. 
778.  Darby,  Pa.,  372,  390.  Darien,  Ct., 
139,  248.  Darkesville,  W.  Va.,  244.  Dar- 
lington, Vict.^  559.  Darmian,  /'rr.,  571. 
Dauphin,  Pa.,  496.  ^Davenport,  U.,  47s- 
9, 489.  Daventry,  Eng.^  556.  DftvlSviUe, 
Cal., 490-1.  Dayton,  Ky.,  628,  783.  *Day- 
ton,  O.,  501,  594-5.  784.  Dayton,  N.  Y., 
221,  223,  772.  Dealton.  Ont.^  310,  332. 
•Decatur,  111.,  485-6.  •Dedham,  Ms.,  29, 
33,  102,  107,  112.  Deerfield,  Ms.,  119,  182, 
579.  7^7'  Deer  Park,  Md.,  486.  Deeth, 
Nev.,  48a  *Deflanoe,  O.,  609,  784.  De 
Kalb,  N.  Y.,  334.  •Delaware,  O.,  7&4- 
Delaware,  Oni.^  331,  332.  Delaware  Water 
Gap,  Pa.,  28,  163-4,  172,  189,  207,  341,  378, 
497.  Delfshaven,  Hol.t  553.  Delhi,  Ind.t 
572.  *Del]il,  N.  Y.,  497-8.  Delhi,  Ont.^ 
332.  Delle,  France^  599.  De  Mossviile, 
Ky.,  590.  Denniaon,  O.,  784.  Dennya- 
ville.  Me.,  264,  266,  271.  "DenTer,  Col., 
501,  628,  788.  Denville,  N.  J.,  163,  170, 
207.  Dez'by,  Ct.,  140,  142,  769.  Derby, 
^Mg.y  539,  645-6,  790.  Derringalluin,  Vkt., 
560.  Deschambault,  Qttt.^  575.  *Des 
Moinea,  la.,  479.  489,  595,  787-  •Detroit, 
Mich.,  21, 46,  204,  210,  225,  296-8,  300, 304-5, 

3««f  315.  3a«-3.  333.  505.  59»,  594-5.  625, 
628,  677,  785.  Devon,  Pa.,  3S9,  609,  778. 
De  Witt,  Neb.,  485.  De  Witt,  N.  Y.,  479- 
r.  Me.,  515, 574, 765.    Dexterville,  N. 


Y.,  223.  Dieppe,  Fr.^  480,  552,  599,  600. 
Digby,  N,  S.,  282,  284-5,  592.  Dingman's 
Ferry,  Pa.,  164.  Dingwall,  Scai.,  556. 
Disco,  111.,  485-6.  Diss,  Eng.^  538,  790. 
Dixon,  Cal.,  491.  Dottba  Ferry,  N.  Y., 
77-9.  Docking,  Eng.,  537-8.  Dodgeville, 
Ms.,  107.  Doncaster,  Eng.,  539-40,  790. 
Dorchester,  Ms.,  517-8,  527,  767.  Dorset, 
Efig.f  646.  Dorval,  OtU.,  328.  Doahan 
Tepe,  Prr.f  483.  Donp's  Point,  Ky.,  236. 
•Dover,  Del.,  781.  Dover,  Eng.,  551,598- 
9.  •Dover,  N.  H.,  575.  Dover,  N.  J., 
163-4.  173-  Dover  Plains,  N.  Y.,  582. 
Dover  Point,  Me.,  575.  Downlngtown, 
Pa.,  389.  •Dgylestown,  Pa.,  778.  Drakes- 
town,  N.  J.,  164.  Drakesville,  N.  J.,  163, 
207.  Dreaney's  Corners,  Oni.^  324.  Dres- 
den, Ger.f  114,  427.  Drifton,  Pa.,  497-9. 
Dublin,  Jre.f  642,  645-6,  652,  654,  686,  695, 
792.  Dublin,  On/.f  313.  Dulaney,  Kan., 
788.  Dulaney,  Ky.,  783.  •Dnluth,  Minn., 
787.  Dumfries,  Scot.,  554-5,  645,  686. 
Dana  Pen  tele,  Hun.^  481.  Duna  Szekeso, 
Hun.f^t.  Dunbar,  ^ri^.,  554.  Dunchurch, 
Eftg.fSSj.  Dundas,  On^.,  318.  Dundee,  Scat., 
792.  Duncan,  Neb.,  478.  Duncaonon, 
Pa.,  496.  Dunedin,  A^.  Z,,  567,  652,  794. 
Dunellen,  N.  J.,  172.  Dungarvan, /nr.,  546. 
Dunkeld,  Oni.,  315.  Dunkirk,  N.  Y.,  28, 
31,  58,  223,  772.  Dunstable,  Eng.,  541. 
Durham,  Eng,  545,  645.  Durham,  Onf., 
316.  Dttsseldorf,  Gtr.,  545.  Dutch  Flat, 
Cal.,  476. 

Eagle,  Oni.,  312.  Ealing,  Eng.,  790. 
Earlham,  la.,  479.  £.  Almond  Centre, 
N.  Y.,  217.  E.  Attleboro,  Ms.,  107.  B.  Au- 
rora, N.  Y.,  208,  222.  £.  Avon,  N.  Y., 
213,216.  £.  Berlin,  Ct.,  769.  E.  Bethel, 
Vt.,  578.  E.  BIoom6eld,  N.  Y.,  202,21a, 
216,218.  Eastbourne,  Eng.,  532,  544,790. 
E.  Brimfield,  Ms.,  767.  £.  Bmokfield,  Ms., 
no,  128.  E.  Brookfield,  Vt.,  578.  £. 
Bridgewater,  Ms.,  376.  E.  Cambridge,  Ms., 
767.  E.  Canaan,  Ct.,  146.  E.  Chatham, 
N.  Y.,  148,  208.  E.  Frycbutg,  Me.,  577. 
E.  Gainesville,  N.  Y.,  222.  E.  Greenwich, 
N.  Y.,  193.  'B.  Gveenwleh,  R.  I.,  512, 
581,  769.  Easthampton,  Ms.,  118-20,  580, 
767.  £.  Hartford,  Ct.,  123,  149,  '582.  E. 
Haven,  Ct.,  149.  £.  Lee,  Ms.,  148,208.  E. 
Leon,  N.  Y.,  223.  E.  Longmeadow,  Ms., 
124-5.  >54.  580.  E.  Long  Branch,  N.  J., 
776.    E.  Lyme,  Ct.,  131.    E.   Lyade,  Pa., 


INDEX  OF  PLACES, 


xli 


387.  £.  Madaiasy  Me.,  aji.  Eastman 
Springs,  Omi.f  327.  E.  New  York  (L.  I.), 
584.  £.  Northwood,  N.  H.,  577.  £.  Or- 
angc,  N.  J.,  508,  588,  643,  776.  •Baston, 
Md.,  593.  •Easton,  Pa.,  173.  34a,  378,  387, 
497.  609,  778.  Eastport,  Me.,  357-8,  a6o, 
a6s,  267-8,  274,  276,  279,  282-3,  573»  592- 
K.  Portland,  Or.,  788.  £.  Providence, 
R.  I.,  107.  £.  Randolph,  Vt.,  578.  £. 
Rochester,  N.  H.,  525,  654-5,  670,  766. 
£.  Saginaw,  Mich.,  7S5.  £.  Schodack, 
N.  Y.,  208.  £.  Springfield,  Pa.,  205.  £. 
Scroudsburg,  Pa.,  341.  E.  Tarrytown,  N.  Y., 
76.  E.  Wallingford,  Vt,,  579.  £.  Windsor 
Hill,  Ct.,  123,  254,  769.  Eastwood,  Out., 
317.  Eaton-Socon,  Eng.^  540-41.  Echo, 
Utah,  477.  Echuca,  Vkt.^  560.  Eckley, 
CoL,  SOI.  Eddiugton,  Vict.^  566.  Eden 
Center,  N.  Y.,  223.  Sdgerton,  O.,  479. 
Edgewater,  N.  J.,  81,  83.  Eldinburgh,  Scot.^ 
SJ3-4i  544,  554-6,  599,  642,  645-7,  686,  792. 
Edinburg,  Va.,  346,  3S8.  Edward*s  Comer, 
N.  Y.,  223.  Edward's  Ferry,  Va.,  497.  Ed- 
wardvin?,  Ind.,  235.  EdwardsviUe,  Kan., 
485.  ^EiBngluun,  111.,  488.  Eggerstown, 
in.,  488.  Eketahuna,  N.  Z.^  568.  Elaine, 
Vict.^  559.  Elbeuf,  Fr.^  480.  Elbridge, 
N.  Y.,aoS,3i2.  Elgin,  lU.,  786.  •Eliz^ 
beth,  N.  J.,  156,  158,  164,  167,  172,  175.  »77. 
583,627,  776.  Elizabethport,  N.  J.,  29,  32, 
156,  158,  583.  'EUxabethtovn,  Ky.,  237. 
SUiabethtown.  N.  Y.,  211.  Elk  Grove, 
CaL,  491.  Elkhom,  Neb.,  489.  •Elko, 
Nev.,  477-  'Elkton,  Md.,  a44i  37a»  497- 
•Ellieott  City,  Md.,  349,  373.  376-7,  497- 
Ellington,  Eng.^  540.  Ellington,  N.  Y., 
>23>  773-  £}liS}  ^s.,  107.  *Ell8worth, 
Me.,  37S,  574.  Elmira,  Cal,  476,  491. 
•Elmira,  N.  Y.,  216,  218,  501,  594,  772. 
Elrasford,  N.  Y.,  75,  76.  Elmwood,  Ct., 
136-7,250.  Elsinore,  £?«/.,  316.  Ely,  £fff., 
53a.  539-  •Elyria,  O.,  479,  609,  784.  Elze, 
Gtr.,  saa.  Emmitsburg,  Md.,  385,  388. 
•Emporia,  Kan.,  660,  78S.  Enfield,  Ct., 
253.  Enfield,  ^A^.,  790.  Enfield,  Ms.,  123, 
125, 181,  5S0.  Englewood,  N.  J.,  30,  51, 
80-1,  84,  166-S.  Ennis,  /r#.,  646.  Ennts- 
kelkn,  Ont.,  315.  Ephratah,  Pa.,  387.  Ep- 
ping,  Eng.f  539-40*  Eramosa,  Ont.^  318. 
*Blie,  Pa.,  Z2,  28,  31,  50,  58,  85,  202,  204.6, 
222,  311,  317,  487-8,  5o»,  594-5-  Erin,  Oni., 
316.  Erlanger,  Ky.,  225.  Erzeroum,  Tur.^ 
483.    Esbjerg^ /7Mk,  599.    Eski  Baba,  r»r., 


482.  Essex  Center,  Omt^t  %xO'\u  Eszek, 
Slao.^  481.  EUon,  Eng.,  533.  'Eugene 
City,  Or.,  788.  EyaoB  Mllla,  N.  Y.,  334. 
'Evanston,  Wyo.,  477.  'ETansrilla,  Ind., 
595.  Everett^  Pa. ,  244, 496.  £lxeter,  Eng. , 
533,  536,  554.  •ixeter,  N.  H.,  575,  766. 
Exeter,  Omi.^  313-5,  324,  332.  Eydknhneu, 
Rtis.^  687.     Eye,  Eng.^  539, 

Fabyan  House,  N.  H.,  576-7.  Fakenham, 
^«r-,  537-8.  •Fairfax  C.  H.,  Va.,  374, 376. 
•Fairfield,  Cal.,  491.  Fairfield,  Ct.,  138.9, 
148,248.  Fairfield,  Ky.,  237.   Fairfield,  Me., 

765.  Fairfield,  N.  J.,  84, 169.  Fairfield,  OtU.^ 
310,789.  Fairfield,  Pa.,  385.  Fairfield,  Va., 
349i  495-  Fair  Haven,  Ct.,  133,  138,  149. 
Fair  Haven,  Vt.,  (84.  Fairmount,  Ber., 
362.  Fairmount,  Ind.,  236.  Faindew, 
Md.,  243.  Fairview,  N.  J.,  84.  Fairyland, 
Ber.^  361.  Falkirk,  Scot.^  404.  Fall  Brook, 
Pa.,  594.  Falling  Waters,  W.  Va.,  344,  348. 
Fall  River,  Ms.,  31-2,  85,  101,  loS,  593,  767. 
Falls  Church,  Va.,  374,  376.  Falls  City, 
Pa.,  245.  'Faribault,  Minn.,  7S7.  Farm- 
ers' Crossing,  Ky.,  4S5.6.  Fannersville,  Ms., 
109.  Farmingdale  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  58,  150-3. 
Farmington,  Cal.,  491-2.  Farmington,  Ct., 
137,  M5i  149,  581-  Farmington,  N.  H., 
576-7.  Farms  Vilhge,  Ct.,  145.  Fambor- 
ough  Station,  Eng.^  646.  Farrah,  A/g.^ 
571.  Farringdon,  Eng.^  532.  Father  Point, 
Que.^  329.  Fayette,  N.  Y.,  336.  Fayette- 
viUe,  Pa,,  495.  Featherston,  N,  Z.,  568-9. 
Feeding  Hills,  Ms.,  123,  125-6,  144,  146. 
Feigns,  Ont.^  3x6.  •Femandina,  Fla., 
597,  628,  783.  Fern  Creek,  Ky.,  236.  Fieki- 
ing,  N.  Z.y  568.  Fife,  ScoL^  792.  Fillmore, 
N.  Y.,217.  Finchville,  Ky.,  836.  Finchley, 
Eng.^  53 1-2-  •Findl^y,  O.,  48S,  784.  Fish- 
er's  Hill,  Va.,  345,  49S.  Fishersville,  Ms., 
109.  Fishkill-on-Hudson,  N.  Y.,  194-5, 
258,  582.  •Fitchburg,  Ms.,  M4,  500,  523, 
579,  594,  597,  767.    Fitzwilliam,  N.   H., 

766.  Five  Stakes,  Ont.f  3x2.  Flanders,  Ct., 
13 X.  Flanders,  N.  J.,  164.  Flatts,  Ar., 
359-6»,  366.  •Fleinington,  N.  J.,  733. 
Flesherton,  Ont.^  316.  Flint,  Eng.^  645. 
•Flint,  Mich.,  595.  Florence,  //.,  429,  55a. 
Florence,  Ky.,  225.    Florence,  Ms.,  119, 

767.  Florida,  N.  Y.,  772.  Florin,  Pa.,  779. 
Floyd,  N.  Y.,  a  10.  Flume,  N.  H.,  The,  61, 
576.  Fluahlng  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  12.  29,  si-a, 
51-2,  90-x,  152-3,  155,  77a.  Foggia,  //.,  552. 
Folkestone,  Eng.,  599.      •Fonda*  N.  Y., 


xlii 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


aoo,  308,  an.  Fontenoy,  Fr.^  480.  Foots- 
Cray,  VicL^  559.  Fordham,  N.  Y.,  7a,  77a. 
Fordhaxn  Landing,  N.  Y.,  583.  Fordwich, 
OtU.t  314.  Forest  Hill,  Eng.^  645.  Forks 
of  Kennebec,  Me.,  573-4.  Forres,  Scot.^ 
645.  Forrest,  Ont.^  33a.  Ft.  Albert,  Ber.^ 
360.  Ft.Bridger,Wyo.,477.  «Ft.  Dodge, 
la.,  595.  Ft.  Edward,  N.  Y.,  39,  51,  58, 
189, 191-3.  Ft.  Hamilton,  N.  Y.,  90.  Ft. 
Hunter,  N.  Y.,  aoo.  Ft.  Jefferson,  Mo., 
484.  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.,  6a8,  788. 
Ft.  Lee,  N.  J.,  30,  3a,  7a,  81-5,  165,  583, 
612.  Ft.  Loudon,  Pa.,  485.  Ft.  Miller,  N. 
Y.,  19a  Ft.  Morgan,  Col.,  501.  Ft.  Ni- 
agara, N.  Y.,  22a.  Ft.  Plain,  N.  Y.,  200, 
208,  488.  Ft.  Porter,  N.  Y.,  588.  Ft.  St, 
George,  Ber.^  358.  Ft.  St.  George,  N.  Y., 
583.  Ft.  Schuyler,  N.  Y.,  74,  246.  Ft.  Sid- 
ney, Col.,  475.  Ft.  Steele,  Wyo.,  478.  'Ft. 
Wasme,  Ind.,  487,  595,  786.  Ft.  William, 
C?«/.,789.  Ft.  Worth,  Tex.,  783.  Fofltorla, 
O.,  784.  Fowlervllle,  N.  Y.,  214.  Fox- 
boro',  Ms.,  107.  Framlngham,  Ms.,  29, 
51,  1x3-14,  1x7,  5x4,  6S0,  767.  Francestown, 
N.  H.,  575.  Franconia,  N.  H.,  576-7. 
Frankford,  Pa.,  388-9.  ^Frankfort,  Ky., 
51,  225,  232-4.  Frankfort,  N.  Y.,  200. 
Frankfort,  {>r.,  552,  700.  Franklin,  N.  J., 
x6x-2, 169.  Franklin,  N.Y.,  498.  ♦Frank- 
lin, Tenn.,  352.  Franklin  Falls,  N.  H., 
577.  Franklinville,  N.  Y.,  208.  Frank- 
town,  Ont.  327.  ^Frederick,  Md.,  29,  31, 
33,  238,  242-3,  349,  376-7,  487.  Fredericks- 
burg, Ind.,  235.  Frederickaburg,  Va. ,  352. 
Fredericktown,  Ky.,  230.  ♦Frederick- 
town,  Mo.,  787.  Freedom,  N.  H.,  577. 
Fredonla,  N.  Y.,  50,  205-6,  223,  587,  772. 
Freeport,  Ont.^  316.  Freibourg,  Ger.^  552. 
♦Frraiont,  Neb.,  478.  ♦Fremont,  O.,  479. 
Fressingfield,  Eng.^  539.  Freudenstadt, 
Gtr.^  481.  Friendship,  N.  Y.,  223,  772. 
Frizinghall,  Eng.^  790.  ♦Front  Royal, 
Va.,  351.  Frosthurg,  Md.,  243.  Frye- 
bnrg,  Me.,  576-7.  Fulda,  Cm,  552.  Ful- 
lerton,  Ont.^  332.  Fultonville,  N.  Y.,  200. 
Funkstown,  Md.,  244.  Ferriman,  Per.,  571. 
Gainesville,  N.  Y.,  222.  Gainesville,  Va., 
375.  Galena,  Ind.,  235.  Gait,  OtU.,  317, 
324,  491.  ♦Galveston,  Tex.,  783.  Gam- 
bier,  O.,  784.  Gananoque,  Oni.^  317,  325-6, 
333.  Gang  Mills,  N.  Y.,  21a  Gan  pris 
Pau,  />.,  792.  Garden  City  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
is>>  530-    Ctodiner,  Me.,  573.    Gardner, 


'  Ms.,  579, 767.  ♦Gamett,  Kan.,  788.  Gar- 
rison's, N.  Y.,  29,  193,  609,  772.  Garstane, 
Eng.f  556.  Garwood,  N.  Y.,  22a.  Gasport, 
N.  Y.,  ai7.  Gateshead-on-Tyne,  Eng.^  790. 
Gauley's  Bridge,  W.  Va.,  351,  486.  Gay- 
lord's  Bridge,  Ct.,  58a.  Geddes,  N.  Y., 
aoi,  aia.  Geelong,  Vict.,  559-6i,  563.  Gel- 
vington,  Ky.,  590.  Geneseo,  111.,  479, 489. 
♦Gteneseo,  N.  Y.,  213.  Geneva,  N.  Y., 
208,  2x3,  772.  Geneva,  O.,  488.  Geneva, 
Switz.,  545.  Genoa,  111.,  786.  Genoa,  //., 
552.  Georgetown,  D.  C,  12,  34x-a,  374, 
376, 497,  78a.  ♦Georgetown,  Ky.,  51,  326, 
333-4.  Georgetown,  N.  Y.,  337.  George- 
town, N.  S.,  390.  Georgetown,  (7»/.,  318-19. 
Gera,  Ger.,  551-3.  Germantovm,  Ky.,  590. 
Gennantown,  N.  S.  IV.,  565-6.  German- 
town,  N.  Y.,  197,498.  Germantown,  Pa.,  389, 
779.  Gerry,  N.Y.,  587,  773.  ♦Gettysburg, 
Pa.,  343,  303,  347,  35*.  385-6,  388,  486,  495, 
499.  779'  Ghalikue,  A/g.,  57 x.  Ghent, 
N.  Y.,  197.  Gilroy,  Cal.,  490,  493-3.  Gl- 
rard,  Pa.,  13,  305-6, 479, 488,  779.  Girtford, 
Eng.,  540-1.      Glasgow,  Scot.,   534,  545-6, 

555.  645-7.  695.  698,  79a.  Glassboro,  N.  J., 
390,  533.  Glenbrook,  Cal.,  490.  Glendale, 
Ms.,  X48.  Glenfield,  Pa.,  779.  Glen  House, 
N.  H.,  577.  Glenrowan,  Vici.,  566.  Glen*8 
FaUs,  N.  Y.,  x86,  189,  191-3,  609,  77a. 
Glen  Station,  N.  H.,  577.  Glenville,  Ct., 
138.  Glen  wood,  Md.,  7S3.  Glen  wood.  Pa., 
341.  Gloucester,  Eng.,  536,  539,  554-7,  645. 
Gloucester,  Ms.,  505,  513,  609,  655,  674-5, 
767.  Gloucester,  N.  J.,  390,  533.  God- 
erich,  Ont.,  304,  301,  313-5,  333-4,  33 x,  789. 
♦Goldendale,  Wash.,  788.  Gold-hill,  Cal., 
476.     Gold  Run,  Cal.,  476.      Golspie,  Scot., 

556.  GordonsvUle,  Va.,  348,  350-1.  Gor- 
ham.  Me.,  5x5.  Gorham,  N.  H.,  576-7. 
Goshen,  Ct.,  143.  ♦Goshen,  Ind.,  336, 
479.  ♦Goshen,  N.  Y.,  340,  587.  Goshen, 
Va.,  351,  486.  Gottingen,  Ger.,  532.  Goul- 
bum,  N.  S.  W.,  56X,  564-6,  793.  Gonver- 
neur,  N.  Y.,  334.  Govanstown,  Md.,  377. 
Grafton,  Ms.,  103,  378.  Grafton,  Ont.,  319. 
Granby,  Ct.,  145, 58 x.  'Grand Island,  Neb., 
478,  489.  Grand  Metis,  Que.,  339.  Grand 
Pr^,  N.  S.,  284,  386.  •Grand Forks,  Dak., 
609,  788.  ♦Grand  Rapids,  Mich.,  505,  5x9, 
595.  785.  Granger,  Wyo.,  477.  Granite- 
ville  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  157.  Grant,  N.  Y.,  210. 
Grantham,  Eng.,  540-1,  553.  Granville, 
Ms.,    144,    146.     Granville,  N.    S.,    284-5. 


INDEX  OF  FLA  CES. 


xliii 


Giavesend,  JSftg^.,  599.  Gravesend  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  90.  Gravois,  Mo.,  52$-  ^Grayion, 
^y-t  35 1 1 495-  Gray's  Summit,  Mo.,  485-6. 
Qmt  Barrington,  Ms.,  148,  700.  Great 
Bend,  N.  Y.,  28,  31,  207,  338,  341.  Great 
Berkhamsted,  Eng^.,  473, 480.  Great  Bethel, 
Va.,  439.  Oieat  Fails,  N.  H.,  627,  766. 
Great  Falls,  Va.,  241,  376.  Greenbush, 
N.  Y.,  190-1,  197.  *Gxeeiicaitle,  Ind., 
48S-6.  Greencastle,  Pa.,  46, 296,  303,  344, 
49S-  Gfeene,  N.  Y.,  336,  498.  *Green- 
field,  Ms.,  II,  27,  29,  31,  51, 119,  182-3,  «94. 
378,  500,  579,  767.  Greenland,  Pa.,  244. 
Greenock,  Scoi.,  792.  Oreenpolst  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  91.  Greenport  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  12, 
28, 32-3,  150-5.  *Green  Biver,  Wyo.,  477* 
*Gxe8D8btiig,  Ind.,  786.  *areensbiirg, 
Ky.,  229.  *Oreexisburg,  Pa.,  529,  779. 
Green's  Farms,  Ct.,  138.  Green  Tree,  Pa., 
389..  Greenville,  Ind.,  235.  Greenville,  Me., 
574.  GhreenTille,  Mich.,  785.  Greenville, 
N.  J.,  776.  GfeenvUle,  Pa.,  341,  779. 
•Gxeenville  C.  H.,  S.  C,  7S2.  -Greenville, 
Va. ,  349.  Greanwioh,  Ct. ,  138-9, 248, 58  r-2, 
609,  769.  Greenwich,  N.  Y.,  772.  Green- 
wood, N.  Y.,  171.  Grenoble,  ^r*.,  698. 
Gretna  Green,  Scfft.,  553,  556-7.  Grimsby, 
Om/.,  315.  Grlnnell,  la.,  478-9,787.  Gris- 
wold,  la.,  478.  Groton,  Ct.,  153.  Grotto, 
//.,  553.  Grotzka,  Strv.,  481.  Groveland, 
Cal.,  491.  Groveport,  O.,  785.  Grovesend, 
Omi.,  331.  Groveton,  Cal.,  492.  Groveton, 
N.  H.,  576.  Groveton,  Va.,  375.  Guelph, 
(?«/. ,  3 1 5-7, 3 19, 33 1 .  Guildhall  Falls,  N .  H . , 
577.  Onilfoid,  Ct.,  132.  Guillimbury, 
On/. f  316.  Gulf  Mills,  Pa.,  389.  Gundagai, 
^.  5".  IV.  f  565-6.  Gunnersbury,  Eng.^  645. 
Gunning,  N.  S.  H^.,  561,  565-6.  Gutten- 
berg,  M.  J.,  81,  83,  168.  Guymard  Springs, 
N.  Y.,  497.     Guysboro,  //.  S.,  289. 

*Haokeiutack,  N.  J.,  30,  84, 165-6,  168-9, 
776.  Haekettstow]!,  N.  J.,  164,  173,  776. 
Haddonfield,  N.  J.,  390,  522,  776.  Hadley, 
Ms.,  120.  ^Hagerstown,  Md.,  29,  238-9, 
a+a-S.  303j  S44»  346,  348,  350-1,  384,  387-8, 
486-7,  495,  609,  782.  Hagersville,  0/ti.,  332. 
HaUe,  Ger.f  522.  Halleck,  Nev.,  477.  Hal- 
ifax, J\r.  S.,  282,  286-9,  292-3,  355,  364-5,  592, 
609,  790.  Haigler,  Neb.,  501.  'Hailey, 
Id.,  609,  788.  Hamburg,  Gtr.,  551,  599. 
Hamburg.  Ind.,  235.  Hamburg,  N.  Y., 
223.  Hamburg,  C?m/.,  317.  Hamburg,  Pa., 
342.    Hamden,  Ct.,   134.    Hamilton,  Btr,» 


3S5i  358-91  361-a,  59a,  609,  790.  •Ham- 
iltoilt  O.,  501,  594-5i  785.  Hamilton,  Oni., 
3i4-5»  3»7i  3*4,  3J«-ai  593,  634,  789.  Ham- 
ilton, yici.f  560-61,  563,  793.  HaTnlltom, 
Va.,  244,  497.  Hammersmith,  Etig:,  551. 
Hammondsville,  N.  Y.,  211.  Hammonton, 
N.  J.,  522.  Hampton,  N.  H.,^o2,  512. 
Hampton  Court,  Eng.,  4,  532,  545,  548. 
Hancock,  Md.,  239-40,  242,  244-5,  496. 
Hancock,  Vt.,  578.  Hanover,  Ct.,  134. 
Hanover,  Ger.^  522, 651.  Hanover,  N.  H., 
766.  Hanover,  N.  J.,  163-4.  Hantsport, 
N,  S.,  286.  Hanwell,  Eng.,  646.  Hanley, 
Eng.,  665.  Hardington,  N.  J.,  522.  Har- 
densburg,  Ind.,  235.  Hardwick,  Ms.,  579. 
Harford,  Md.,  377.  Harlem,  N.  Y.,  30, 
33-3.  55.  57.  249,  582,  612,  77a,  774.  Har- 
lingen,  N.  J.,  172.  Harpenden,  Eng.,  553. 
Harper,  Kan.,  788.  Harper's  Feny,  W. 
Va. ,  29, 3 1 ,  240-2, 347-8, 3 50, 384, 496.  *Har- 
risbnrg.  Pa.,  244,  303,  343,  352,  496,  498, 
779.  Harrison,  Me.,  574.  *Harrlson- 
burg,  Va.,  346-8,  38a,  388,  497-9,  628,  782. 
*Harrodsbi2rg,  Ky.,  51,  226-7,  234,  236. 
Harrogate,  Eng.^  636,  642.  Harrold,  Eng.^ 
540.  *Hartford,  Ct.,  n,  12,  26-7,  28,  30-2, 
37»  39.  42-3,  46-7,  X18,  122-3,  "5,  128,  133, 
136-8,  145,  148-9,  173,  179-81,   183,  191,  234, 

249-5».  253, 372-3. 377-8, 388,  401, 501, 510, 523. 
524,  580-2,  593,  609,  615,625,  627-8,  632,655, 
675,  677,  769.  Harud,  A/g.^  571.  Harwich, 
^*^g'*  599*  Hastings,  Eng.^  641,  682. 
^Hastings,  Minn.,  487.  Hastings,  N.  Y., 
335.  Hastings,  AT.  Z.,  569.  Hastings-on- 
Hudson,  N.  Y.,  75,  77,  586.  Hatte  Bay, 
Qtu.t  329.  Hatfield,  Eng.^  540-1,  790.  Hat- 
field, Ms.,  119,  182-3.  Hatton,  Eng.^  543, 
^'Havana,  III,  485-6.  Havant,  Eng.,  790. 
Haverford  College,  Pa.,  389,  779.  Haver- 
hill, Ms.,  523,  577,  767.  Havre,  Fr.^  599, 
Havre  de  Grace,  Md.,  244,  372, 377-8,  497. 
Hawkesbury,  Ont.^  327-8.  Hawley,  Pa., 
340,  609,  779.  Hawthorne,  OrU.^  327.  Haw- 
trey,  Ont.t  332.  Hayden's,  Ct.,  31,  181,  251. 
Haydenville,  Ms.,  119,  767.  Hazelton, 
Kan.,  788.  Hazleton,  *Pa.,  498,  779. 
Healdsbiirg,  Cal.,  490.  Hebron,  N.  S., 
283.  Hebron viUe,  Ms.,  107.  Heda,  Pa., 
498.  Heidelberg,  Grr.,  522,  545,  552. 
•Helena,  Mont.,  788.  Helensburgh,  Eng., 
646.  Hempstead  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  138, 150-2, 
154.  ^Henderson,  Ky.,  590,  609,  783. 
Minn.,  787.     Hendrysbui^, 


1 


xliv 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


0.|  485.  *Hieniiepln,  lU.,  489.  Herat, 
A/g.t  4^1  57««  Hereford,  Eng.y  539. 
^Herkimer,  N.  Y. ,  208.  Hermouli,  Roum. , 
4S1.  Hertford,  Etig-.j  S40->-  Hespeler, 
OMi.f  317.  Hettingen,  Bel,  545.  Heuvel- 
ton,  N.  Y^  334.  HicksviDe  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
51,  »5a-3.'Highgate,  Eng^.y  540.  Highland 
Creek,  On/.t  3x9.  Highland  Mills,  N.Y.,  171, 
609,  772.  Highland  Park,  111.,  787.  High- 
lands, N.  Y.,  172,  1 98.  High  Top  Gap, 
Va.,  348.  High  Wycombe,  Ertg-.,  645,  790. 
Hilliard,  Wyo.,  477.  Hillsboro,  N.  H.,  575. 
Hillsburg,  OtU.,  3x6.  Hillsdale,  N.  Y.,  188. 
HiU*8  Valley,  CaL,  490.  Hind  Head,  Eng., 
777.  Hinds  Comers,  Pa.,  339.  Hingham, 
Ms.,  X12.  Hinsdale,  Ms.,  121.  Hinsdale, 
N.  H.,  579.  Hinsdale,  N.  V.,  152-3. 
Hitchin,  Eng.,  540-1,  557-8.  Hitchcockville, 
Ct.,  144-  Hobart,  Tas.,  560,  563-4,  652, 
794.  Hoboken,  N.  J.,  32,  82-3,  85, 168, 172, 
5^3*  77^'  Hodnet,  Eng.,  555.  Hoffman's 
Perry,  N.  Y.,  3a.  Hoguestown,  Pa.,  343. 
Hohokiis,  N.  J.,  169.  Hokitika,  //.  Z.y 
569.  Holland,  N.  Y.,  222.  Holland  Patent, 
N.  Y.,  210,  2x3.  Holland's  Landing,  Ont.^ 
316.  •HoUister,  CaL,  49a.  Holliston, 
Ms.,  767.  HoUowviUe,  N.  Y.,  188.  •Holly 
Springs,  Miss.,  783.  HoUnesviUe,  Ont.y 
313.  Holmsdale,  Sctt.^  556.  Holycross, 
//v.,  546.  Holyhead,  ^«irM  686.  Holyoke, 
Ms.,  31,  58,  XX7-8,  X20,  123-6,  135,  X83,  191, 
25* I  524*  5*7.  6o9i  767*  Homer,  Mich.,  323. 
Homestead,  la.,  479.  Homestead,  N.  J., 
83^.  Homestead,  Pa.,  779.  ^Honesdale, 
Pa.,  44,  302,  339-40,  501.  Hope,  N.  J.,  164. 
Hopedale,  Ms.,  767.  Hoptown,  Cal.,  490. 
Hoosick  Comers,  N.  Y.,  193,  510.  Hooeick 
Falls,  N.  Y.,  193-  Homellsville,  N.  Y., 
30,216-7,  222.  Horseheads,  N.  Y.,  216. 
Horton,  N.  S.,  286.  Housatonic,  Ms.,  148. 
*Howard,  Kan.,  788.  Howard,  Minn., 
787.  Huddersfield,  Eng.,  645.  Hudson, 
Col,  501.-  *Huds(m,  N.  Y.,  29,  32,  51,  tax, 
X90,  X92,  X95-8,  258,  488,  510,  609,  772. 
Hudson,  Ont.,  32S.  Hughsonville,  N.  Y., 
194-5.  Hulett's  Landing,  N.  Y.,  29,  32. 
Hull,  On/.,  327.  Hull,  Eng.,  545,  599. 
Humboldt,  Nev.,  476.  Hummelstown,  Pa., 
343.  Hunter,  N.  Y.,  505.  Hunter's  Point 
(L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  28,  3X-2,  5S,  91,  96-7,  99,  X51, 
153.  Huntingdon,  Eng.,  539,  541.  *Hnnt- 
Ingdon,  Pa.,  244,  779.  *Huntington,  Ind., 
786.    Himtington,  Ms.,  121,  X94.    Hunt- 


ington (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151.  Hurunui,  N.Z., 
567*^  Hutonborg  Comers,  Ont.^  327. 
Hyde  Park,  Ms.,  767.  Hyde  Park, 
N.  Y.,  497. 

Ichtiman,  Roum.,  481.  Idlewild,  N.  Y., 
197.  nion,  N.  Y.,  200,  208.  *Independ> 
ence.  Mo.,  485-6.  ^Indiana,  Pa.,  610, 779. 
•Indianapolis,  Ind.,  485-8,  501,  595,  6x0, 
638,  786.  *Indianola,  la.,  787.  Indian 
Castle,  N.  Y.,  479.  Indian  Orchard,  Ms., 
29,  104,  ixo,  XX7,  124-6,  i8x,  252.  Ingleside, 
Ms.,  X25.  lugersoll,  Oftt.,  324,  332.  Inver- 
may,  Oni.,  3x6.  Inverness,  Sa^.,  536,  554. 
In  wood,  N.  Y.,  73.  lona,  Ont.,  3x2.  *Iowa 
City,  la.,  479,  489.  Iowa  Falls,  la.,  628, 
789.  Ipswich,  Eng.,  532,  538-9,  599.  Ips- 
wich, Ms.,  1X2,  510,  512.  Ireland  Parish, 
Ms.,  1x8,  135.  Ireland  Point,  Btr.,  358. 
Irkutsk,  Rti*.,  570.  Ironsides,  Ont.,  327. 
Irving,  N.  Y.,  204,  527.  Iryington,  Ind., 
786.  Inrington,  N.  Y.,  75,  79,  162,  X64, 
i74-s>  X98.  Irwin,  Pa.,  779.  Ishpeming, 
Mich.,  785.  Isle  Madame,  N.  S.,  289.  Isit 
Parent,  Qtie.,  328.  l8lip(L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150, 
152.  Ismidt,  Tur.,  48 1-2 >  57o.  *Ithaca, 
N.   Y.,  497-S.   772. 

Jackman's  Plantation,  Me.,  574.  *Jaek- 
son,  Mich.,  50X,  785.  Jackson,  N.  H.,  577. 
Jacksonville,  Cal.,  491.  Jacksonville,  Vt., 
579.  Jacktown,  O.,  4S6.  Jagodina,  Strv., 
48X.  *Jamaioa  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  90,  15X-4, 
772.  Jamaica  Plain,  Ms.,  575,  767. 
Jaman's  Gap,  Va.,  347.  Jamestown,  N. 
Y.,  221,  587,  610,  772.  Jamestown,  O., 
785.  Jamestown,  Pa.,  206,  223,  485.  Jar- 
vis,  On/.,  333.  Vefferson,  la.,  628,  787. 
•Jefferson,  Wis.,  787.  ^Jefferson  City, 
Mo.,  486.  Jeffersontown,  Ky.,  236.  *ifet^ 
fersonville,  Ind.,  235,  595.  Jefferson- 
ville,  O.,  245.  Jenkintown,  Pa.,  779^ 
Jenksville,  Ms.,  104,  xio,  X17,  126,  181,  252. 
Jericho  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  15X-2.  Jerome  Park, 
N.  Y.,  7x,  73,  582.  Jersey,  Omt.,  316. 
•Jersey  City,  N.  J.,  30,  sx,  82,  85, 97,  149. 
156,  16S,  342,  388,  510,  583,  628,  776.  Jer- 
sey Shore,  Pa.,  779.  John  O'Groat's, Scat., 
297.  532.  536,  544,  548,  553-7.  685.  JohnSon- 
burg,  N.  J.,  X63,  207.  Johnston  Comers, 
0Mt.,3iS'  'Johnstown,  N. v.,  X96.  Johns- 
town, Pa.,  496,  530,  779-  *Joliet,  111.,  5o». 
524.  Jonesport,  Me.,  274.  Jordan  River,  M 
S.,  293.  Jordanville,  Ct.,  X3x.  Jugiohg,  N. 
S.  t^.,  564-6.    •Junction  City,  Kan.,  788. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES, 


xlv 


KaaterakiU,  N.  Y.,  3t6,  583.  Kaklu,  /Vr., 
571.  Kalora,  Vid-^  563.  Kamouraska,  ^mt., 
329-30.  *KaakAkAe,  III,  787.  BUmsM 
Citj,  Mo.,  473,  486,  595,  787.  Karapoi,  N, 
Z.t  568-9.  Kariez,  /Vr.,  571.  Karrthia, 
AmU.^  5S3.  Katonah,  N.  Y.,  77a.  *KeftP- 
II0J,  Neb.,  475,  478,  480.  KeeBeville,  N. 
Y..aii.  Keilor,  Kir/.,  563.  Kellogg,  la., 
479^  K0lBeyville,CaI,49Ow  Kelton,  Utah, 
477.  Kendal,  Eng.^  536,  555.  KendAll- 
Tille,  IimL,  479.  Kennebec,  Me.,  Forks  of 
the,  S71-4*  Kennedy,  N.  Y.,  223.  Ken- 
nett  Square,  Pa.,  779.  Kensington,  Eng,^ 
SS4>  645-  KentTiIIe,  N,  S.,  385.  Kerns- 
town,  Va.,  345.  Kesaock,  Et$g.f  536.  Kes- 
wick, Eng.f  646,  791.  Keswick,  (?»/.,  316. 
Kettering,  Emg.,  540.  Kettle  Pt.,  OtO,, 
332.  Khoi,  /Vr.,  48a.  Killamey,  /r#.,  546, 
b$2.  Kimbolton,  Eng.,  539.  Kincardine, 
Ofif.,  31$,  789.  Kinderhook,  N.  Y.,  148, 
19S,  610,  772.  Kin-gan-foo,  CAl,  $7'* 
Kingslnidge,  N.  Y.,  64,  66,  78, 98,  583-3. 
Kingston,  Eftg.,  544.  Kingston,  N.  J.,  377. 
^Kingston,  N.  Y.,  18S,  19S.  Kingston, 
Omi.,  204,  397,  300,  317,  319-26,  333,  533, 
6io»  789.  Kingston,  Pa.,  aao.  Kingston,.?. 
jIms.,  560.  Kingussie,  Scat.,  S55-^  KingSp- 
▼ille,  {7iii/.,  301,  310.  KintnersviUe,  Pa.,  497. 
Kiutore,  Omt.,  332.  Kioto,/ii/.,  793.  Kirk- 
ton,  Oh/.,  333.  Kittexy,  Me.,  loi,  346,  575. 
Kiu  Kiang,  C4/.,  57a.  Knight's  Ferry,  Cal., 
491-3.  Knotty  Ash,  Eng.,  557*  Knowhon, 
N.  J.,  164.  •Kokomo,  lad.,  786.  Kresge- 
Titte,  Pa.,  341.  Kurracfaee,  /mi.,  571. 
KtttztowD,  Pa.,  3S7.  Kyamba,  /^.  S.  H^., 
$65.     Kyneton,   VicL,  $59,  561-3. 

Laceyville,  Pa.,  319.  Lachine,  Qt44.,  338. 
I^  Chute  Mills,  Omt.,  789  Lacka waxen, 
Pa.,  340.  Lacona,  N.  Y.,  335.  Laoonia, 
N.  H.,  576-7.  ^La  Croeae,  Wis.,  787. 
Laiaram,  Rns.,  571.  ^La  Fayette,  Ind., 
535,  786.  *Ifagraage,  Ind.,  336.  Lahore, 
Ind.,  SI*'  Laird,  Neb.,  501.  *Lake  City, 
CoL,  788.  *Lake  George,  N.  Y.,  609,  77a. 
Lake  Pleasant,  Ma.,  378^  Lakeville,  Ct., 
>43f  >47*  Lakeville,  N.  Y.,  193.  Lake- 
wood,  N.  Y.,  333.  Lambeth,  Oni.,  331,  519. 
LaoMlU*,  III.,  479.  Lamonte,  Mo.,  475. 
Lancaster,  Emg.,  554,  Laacaeter,  Ms., 
S79>  niiMWMfr,  N.  H.,  575-7,  676,  766. 
J49/$$tilttk  V«  ^^A  ''&*    *I<anoatter, 


Lands  End,  Eng,,  397,  533,  536,  548,  55^-7, 
685.  Lanesboro,  Ms.,  121.  Lanesville,  Ky., 
335.  Langenweddingen,  Rus.,  687.  Lang- 
ford,  Eng.,  558.  Lansdowne,  Oni.,  335. 
Lanaing,  Mich.,  501,  505,  59s,  785.  Lan- 
aiagburg,  N.  Y.,  193.  Laonat  N.  Y.. 
333,  587.  *Laporte,  Ind.,  479.  Laprade, 
Fr.,  552.  «Laramie,  Wyo.,  473-4, 478. 480, 
788.  Larrabee's  Point,  Vt.,  579.  La  Salle, 
N.  Y.,  315.  Latrobe,  Pa.,  610,  779. 
Laurel,  Md.,  377.  Laurel  Hill,  Pa.,  485. 
Lauraont,  Fr.,  558.  Launceston,  7m.,  560, 
563-4.  Lausanne,  Swits.,  545.  •Lawrence, 
Kan.,  485,  7S8.  *Lawrence,  Ms.,  112,  514, 
768.  *Lawrenoeburg,  Ind.,  336.  Law. 
rencetown,  N.  S.,  385.  LawrenceviUe,  N. 
J*,  377i777«  I^aytonsville,  Md.,  376.  Lead- 
enharo,  Eng.,  539.  *LeadvUle,  Col.,  643, 
788.  Leamington,  Or$i.,  3ta  'Lebanon, 
Ky.,  229,  234,  610,  783.  Lebanon,  N.  Y., 
197.  'Lebanon,  O.,  785.  'Lebanon,  Pa., 
3031  343i  485,  779-  !«•«.  Ms.,  121,  146,  148, 
208,  610,  768.  Leeds,  Eng,,  636,  645-6,  791. 
'Leeaburg,  Va.,  497.  Leestown,  Pa.,  343. 
Lee's  Summit,  Mo.,  486.  Leete's  Island, 
Ct.,  13a.  Leeuwarden,  Hoi.,  553.  Leghorn, 
//.,  700.  Lehighton,  Pa.,  299,  341,  610. 
Leicester,  Eng.,  532,  539,  553,  643.  Leices^ 
ter,  Ms.,  103,  110,  114.  Leipsic,  Gtr.,  114, 
651.  Leith,  Sct^.,  645.  Leitersburg,  Md., 
385.  Le  Mans,  Fr.,  699.  Lemay  Ferry, 
Mo.,  535.  Lempster,  N.  H.,  575.  Lenox, 
Ms.,  148,  70a  Lenox,  N.  Y.,  208.  Lenox 
Furnace,  Ms.,  148.  Leominater,  Ms.,  579L 
Leon,  N.  Y.,  333.  Leonardsville,  N.  Y., 
773.  Le  Eoy,  N.  Y.,  ao8,  331,  479i  487, 
773.  Lesinore,  /r/.,  546.  Lethbridge,  VkU, 
559.  Level,  Md.,  373.  Level,  O.,  785. 
Lewes,  Eng.,  539.  'I«ewiaburg,  W.  Va., 
351,  486.  Lewiaton,  Me.,  765.  Lewiston, 
N.  Y.,  333.  Lewiston,  Ont.,  335.  *Lewia- 
town,  111.,  485-6.  'Lewiatown,  Pa.,  344, 
496.  Lewiaville,  Ind..  485.  'Lexington, 
Ky.,  326,  233-4,  5o».  5*7.  783-  Lexington, 
Ms.,  39,  51,  103,  386,  517,  768.  'Lexing- 
ton,  Va.,  347,  349-51,  495'  Leytonstone, 
Eng., 1(^1.  Lima.  N.  Y.,  208,  213.  'Lima, 
O.,  488,  501.  Limekiln,  Pa.,  389.  Lim- 
erick, /rv.,  793.  Limerick,  Me.,  577.  Lime 
Bock,  Ct.,  769.  Lincoln,  .£jRtf.,  539.  'Lfaor 
coin.  111.,  486,  489.  Lincoln,  Oni.,  323. 
Lincoln  Park,  N.  J.,  777.  Linlithgow,  Scot., 
645.     fUnn,  Mo.,  485.     Llabon,   N.  H., 


li 


xlvi 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


577.  Lisle,  N.  Y.,  497-8.  L'Islet,  Qut.^ 
jag-sa  Listowell,  Ont..^  3X4-S'  *Litch- 
flflld,  Ct.,  141-5,  t48,  s8t-  Little,  Ky.,  236. 
Little  Boar's  Head,  N.  H.,  5x2.  Little  Falls, 
N.  J.,  30, 84,  165,  167,  169.  Little  Falls, 
N.  Y.,  200,  202,  20S,  488,  772.  Little  Metis, 
Que,^  329-30.  Little  Mount,  Ky.,  236. 
Little  Neck  (L.  L),  N.  Y.,  151-3,  155. 
•Little  Book,  Ark. ,  783.  Littleton,  N.  H., 
61,  576-7.  'Little  Valley,  N.  Y.,  223. 
Liverpool,  Eng.,  99,  406,  473-4,  480-2,  527, 
53a,  553,  556-7»  57°,  59*.  636,  642,  645-7,686, 
791.  Liverpool,  A^.  S.^  288.  Liverpool, 
N.  S.  fy.f  561,  565-6.  Livingston,  N.  Y, 
220.  Llandaff,  jS'mi^.,  558.  Llandsrssul,  ^m^., 
791.  Lloyd's  Neck  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151. 
Lodge  Pole,  Neb.,  478.  Lockerbie,  Scoi.^ 
536.  *L0Ck  Haven,  Pa.,  779.  Lockland, 
O.,  785.  *Lockport,  N.  Y.,  216-7,  222, 
325,  501,  772.  *Logansport,  Ind.,  786. 
London,  Eng-.,  63,  99,  129,  280,  292,  353, 
365,  402-6,  426-8,  436,  444,  448,  464,  467, 
470-2,  474-5,  480-1,  517,  524,  530-41,  544, 
547-8,  55o-«,  553-8,  567,  598-9.  602,  6x1,  627, 
636,  642-7,  654,  656-9,  66a,  670,  68X-91,  693, 
695-6,  698-9,  791,  798.  London,  Out.,  204, 
3",  3M-5.  3»9,  3*1,  33«,  33»,  634-5.  654,  669, 

789.  Londsboro,  OfU.,  332.  Long  Island 
City,  N.Y.,  97, 99.  Longmeadow,  Ms.,  123-4, 
181,254,580.  Longneuil,  ^Mtf.,  328.  Long- 
wood,  Qttf.,  33  X.  Lookout,  Wyo.,  478.  L(^ 
nUn,  0.,595.  L' Original,  ^a«r.,  328.  Lor- 
raine, t^r.,  480.  *Loe  Angeles,  Cat.,  789. 
Loughboro,  Eng.,  539.  Louisburg,  C.  B., 
289.  *LouisviUe,  Ky.,  31,  33,  51,  225, 
23X-7,  486,  SOI,  525-6,  530,  590,  595,  597, 
628,  783.  Loup,  Er.f  545.  Lou  vain,  />., 
699.  Lovell,  Me.,  577.  Lovelock's,  Nev., 
476,  480.  *Lowell,  Ms.,  1x2,  378,  500,508, 
5<7,  597.  660,  768.  Lower  Lachine,  Qu*., 
328.  Lowestaft,  Eng-.^  539.  Lnbeo,  Me., 
264-70,  279,  516,  573,  610,  765.  Lucan,  Omi., 
312,  314.  Lucindale,  iS".  Atts.f  560.  Luck- 
now,  Oni.,  315,  332.  Ludlow,  Vt.,  579. 
Lunenburg,  M  5".,  288.    Lunenburg,  Vt., 

577.  •Luray,  Va.,  244,  346-5 X,  38 »-»•  Luth- 
field,  AT.  Z.,  568.  Lutton,  Eng.^  537.  LsTnie, 
Ct.,  131, 792.  Lynchburg,  Va.,  346.  Lynd- 
hurst,  N.  J.,  166.  Lynn,  Eng.^  537-8,  557. 
Lirnn,  Ms.,  xox,  516,  573,  597,  631,  768. 
Lynn,  OfU.,^26.  Lyons,  /'r.,698.  Lyons, 
III.,  479.  •Lyons,  Kan.,  628.  •Lyons,  N. 
Y.,  772. 


McCainsville,  N.  J.,  163,  207.  McCook, 
Neb.,  50X.  •McGonnellsburg,  Pa.,  485. 
•Maehias,  Me.,  270-4,  279,  575,  592.  Ma- 
chiasport.  Me.,  257,  273-4,  279,  573.  Mcln- 
tyre's  Comers,  Oni.,  332.  McKinstryville, 
N.  Y,  X98.  MoMinnville,  Or.,  788.  •Ma- 
comb, 111.,  787.  *Macon,  Ga.,  782.  Mo- 
Veytown,  Pa.,  244.  Madison,  Ct.,  132, 
523.  •Madison,  Ind.,  595,  786.  Madison, 
N.  H.,  577.  Madison,  N.  J.,  30,  X63,  174, 
777.  Madison,  N.  Y.,  772.  Madison,  O., 
479.  •Madison,  Va.,  348.  Madrid,  S/., 
700.  Madrone,  Cal.,  490,  492.  Magnolia, 
Ky.,  230-1.  Mahwah,  N.  J.,  X69.  Maiden- 
head, Eng.f  567,  792.  Maidstone,  Eng.f 
646.  Mainz,  Ger.,  552.  Maitland,  AT.  S.^ 
283.  Maitland,  On/.,  326.  Maketoke, 
JV.  Z.,  568.  Maiden,  Ms.,  29,  lot,  768. 
Maiden  Bridge,  N.  Y.,  208.  Malmesbury, 
^MT/.,  560.  Malvern,  i&»/f.,  645.  Malvern, 
OMi.f  316.  Malvern,  Pa.,  389.  Mamaro- 
neek,  N.  Y.,  247.  Manassas  Gap,  Va.,  348. 
Manchester,  Eng.,  468,  535,  539,  550,  642, 
645-7, 683,  688,  792.  Manchester,  Ms.,  1x3. 
MancheMer,  Me.,  627.  Manchester,  Ma, 
322,  525,  528.  •Manchester,  N.  H.,  500, 
575-6,  766.  Manhasset  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151. 
Manhattanville,  N.  Y.,  3a.  Mannheim, 
Cn^.,552.  Mannsville,  Pa.,335.  Manotick, 
OfU.f  327.  Mansfield,  Ms.,  107,  X09,  768. 
•Mansfield,  O.,  785.  Mansfield,  Pa., 
779.  Mantes,  Er.,  480.  Maple  wood,  N.  H., 
577.  Marblehead,  Ms.,  xxa,  28X,  5x5,  768. 
MaroeUus,  N.  Y.,  208,  479.  Marcy,  N.  Y., 
2x0.  Margate,  Eng.,  599.  •Marietta, 
O.,  595.  Marietta,  Pa.,  244.  Mariner's 
Harbor  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  772.  Marion,  N.  J., 
82,  x68,  582.  Marion,  Pa.,  495.  Markdale, 
^«/.,3x6.  Markham,  N.  Y.,  223.  Mark- 
ham,  Ofti.,  316.  Market-Deeping,  Eng.f 
539.  541-  Marlboro,  Ms.,  514.  Marlboro, 
N.  Y.,  X72.  Marlboro,  Vt.,  579.  Marlen- 
heim,  Ger.,  4S1.  Marlow,  Qtt*.,  574. 
Marlton,  N.  J.,  390.  Marmande,  Er.f  552. 
Marseilles,  Er.,  698.  •Marshall,  Mich., 
324, 785.  •Marshall,  Minn.,  787.  •Mar- 
Shalltown,  la.,  787.  Marshfield,  Ms.,  X13. 
MarUnsburg,  N.  Y.,  sox.  •Martinsburg, 
W.  Va.,  242,  244,  300,  303,  344-5,  349,  388, 
495-8,  590,  7S2.  Martinsville,  N.  Y.,  2x7. 
Manilam,  AT.  5".  fV.,  564-6.  •MarysTiUe, 
Kan.,  485.  Marysville,  Fur/.,  560.  Mask- 
inonge,  Qm.,  575.    MassUlon,  O.,  487,  501, 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xlvii 


6(25,  637-S,  785.  Masterton,  N.  Z.^  56$^ 
Maune,  Qtie.,  329.  Matlin,  Uuh,  477. 
Mattituck  (L.  I.),  N.Y.,  150,  isaj  155.  Mat- 
toom.  111.,  489.  *]Iaiieh  Chunk,  Pa.,  220, 
a99.  34a.  53o»  779-  Mayfield,  Cal.,  492. 
Mayenoe,  Ger.^  545.  ^ICayiville,  Ky.,  30, 
3*.  39,  a33-5f  5o«,  590-  •MayvlUe,  N.  Y., 
206,  223,  488,  587.  Mazinan,  Rm.t  571. 
*Meadville,  Pa.,  779.  Meaford,  CTm/.,  316. 
Kecbanlesborg,  Pa.,779.  Mechanicsville, 
Md.,  376.  MecbAniosTllle,  N.  Y.,  190, 
192.  Hechanios'vUle,  Pa.,  341.  *Media, 
Pa.,  390.  Medina,  Kan.,  485.  Medina, 
N.  Y.,  217,  222.  ^Medina,  O.,  501,  785. 
Medina,  Ont.^  332.  Medford,  Ms.,  516, 
768.  Meiningen,  Ger,.,  552.  Melbourne, 
Otd.t  331.  Melbourne,  Viet.^  5S9^»  570i 
65*1  654,  695-6,  706,  793.  Melpetas,  Cal., 
490.  Melton  Mowbray,  ^»^., 547.  *Meni- 
phlS,  Tenn.,  628,  632,  654,  670,  783.  Mend- 
ham,  N.  J.,  173.  Hendota,  III.,  479* 
Kanekatmee,  Wis.,  787.  Meningie,  5*. 
Aua.,  560.  Menlo  Park,  Cal.,  49a.  Mentor, 
O.,  785.  *Mereer,  Pa.,  779.  Merchant- 
Tille,  N.  J.,  39a    Merlden,  Ct.,  n,  28,  31, 

iiOi  i»8,  i33-5t  »37-8»  M9f  »9'f  »5«>-»»  377» 
510,  5S1,  610,  769.  Meredith,  Vki.^  559. 
Merion  Square,  Pa.,  389.  Merioneth,  Eng.^ 
645.  Karriok,  Ms.,  768.  Merrick  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  152.  Merrimac,  Ms*,  768.  Merritt- 
ville,  N.  J.,  171.  Merv,  Rus.^  570.  Meshed, 
Per.,  57o>i.  Meshoppen,  Pa.,  32,  219. 
Metcalfe,  Ow/.,  327.  Meteghan,  N.  S.^  283-4. 
Metnchen,  N.  J.,  167,  377.  Metx,  Grr., 
599.  Mexico,  .Mrjr.,  790.  Mexico,  Pa., 
244.  Mayendale,  Pa.|  244.  Mianus,  Ct., 
248.  *Middlelrai7,  Vt.,  197,  578-9.  Mid- 
dle Forge,  N.  J.,  170.  lOddileport,  N. 
Y.,  117.  Middleport,  Pa.,  342.  Middlesex, 
Vt.,  57S.  •ICddletown,  Ct,  769.  Mid- 
dletown,  Ind.,  236.  Middletown,  la.,  484, 
485,  486.  Middletown,  N.  Y.,  198,  340, 
4989  587,  772.  Middletown,  O.,  785. 
lOddletOwn,  Pa.,  345,  351,  496.  Middle- 
town,  R.  I.,  108,  581.  Middleville,  N.  J., 
i6a.  Midway,  Va.,  349,  495.  Mifflin,  Pa., 
244,  499-  Milan,  //.,  552,  79a.  MUford, 
Ct.,  no,  i34>  138,  i4o>  I4ai  249.  Milford, 
Bng.,  546.  Milford,  Ms.,  768.  MUford, 
N.  H.,  979,  766L  *Mllford,  Pa.,  164,  198, 
a99*  SS7>  779'  Millbank,  OfU.^  325.  Mill- 
brae,  CWl,  49>-3*  MUlbridge,  Me.,  274. 
ly  N.  J.,  16a,  164,  17a,  175.    MIUp 


bury,  Ms.,  109,  768.  Mill  Gty,  Ner.,  476. 
MUi  Creek,  Pa.,  389.  MUlersborg,  Ky., 
233-  MUler*e  Falls.  Ms.,  768.  Miller's 
Sution,  Ind.,  479.  MUleretown,  Pa.,  385. 
MlUenvUle,  Pa.,  779.  Millerton,  N.  Y., 
188.  Mill  Grove,  N.  Y.,  217.  Millhaven, 
OtU.,  325.  MUltown,  Me.,  266.  Mill  Vil- 
lage,  N.  S.,  293.  MUlville,  Ms.,  109. 
Mlllvllle,  N.  J.,  390,  520,  777.  Millwood, 
Pa.,  494.  Milton,*  Ms.,  29,  I02,  517,  768. 
Milton,  N.  H.,  577.  Milton,  N.  Y.,  172. 
Milton,  Vt.,  500.  Milton  Falls,  N.  H.,  577. 
Milton  Lower  Falls,  Ms.,  58,  106, 109.  *Mil- 
wankee,  Wis.,  259,  487,  501,  519,  524,  595, 
628, 643,  787  Mine  La  Motte,  Mo.,  787. 
Mineola  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151,  153.  *Mlnnie- 
apoUs,  Minn.,  324,  530f  595»  628,  787. 
Miramarc,  ^atf/.,  552.  Mirfield,  fxi^.,  792. 
MlahawakA,    Ind.,  479.     Mitchell,  Omt., 

ao4,  3«3,  3M»  3»7i  3*4,  33*.  Mittagong, 
//.  S.  ff^.,  561,  564-6.  Mittineague,  Ms., 
120,  122-3.  *Moblle,  Ala.,  2.  Molina, 
in.,  479,  489,  787.  Moncton,  AT.  B.,  598. 
Monmouth,  Eng.^  539.  *M(niinontli,  IIL, 
787.  *MonmouUl,  Or.,  788.  Mono  Cen- 
ter.  On/.,  316.  Monroe,  N.  J.«  163.  Mon- 
roeville,  O.,  488.  Monson,  Me.,  574. 
Montauk  (L.  I.)i  N.  Y.,  155.  Montelair, 
N.  J.,  160-2,  167, 777.  Monterey,  CaL,  490, 
492,494.  Monterey,  Ms.,  488.  Monterey, 
Pa.,  385.  •Montgomery,  Ala.,  6to,  627, 
670,  707>  783-  Montgomery,  N.  Y.,  198. 
Montioello,  N.  Y.,  sta  Monticello,  Va., 
35 1 •  Montinagny,  Qm.,  328.  Montowese, 
Ct,  133.  149.  *Montpeller,  Vt,  500^ 
578.  Montpellier,  Fr.,  481,  699.  Montreal, 
Que.,  185,  187,  293,  326-8,  330-1,  333,  500, 
504,  575.  $78.  59».  598»  634-5,  646,  669,  790. 
•Montroee,  Pa.,  594,  779.  Montville,  Me., 
574-  Monument,  Col.,  477.  Moolap,  f^rW., 
559.  Moonambel,  f^ici.t  566.  Moorea- 
town,  N.  J.,  177-8,  390,  521,  522,  777. 
Mooreaville,  Ind.,  235.  Mooresville,  Pa., 
343.  Moose  River  Plantation,  Me.,  574. 
Morecarabe,  Eng-.f  645.  Morehouseville, 
N.  Y. ,  2 1 1.  Moretown,  Vt. ,  578.  Moines, 
SnntM.f  545.  Morpeth,  Omi.,  310,  315. 
Morris,  Ct.,  142.  Morrlianla,  N.  Y.,  96. 
•Morriatown,  N.  J.,  30, 84, 163-4, 173,  175, 
333»  501,  610,  777.  Mortlake,  Eng.,  646, 
792.  Mortlake,  Kiir/.,  559161.  Moscow,  la., 
479.  Moscow,  J?itf.,  79s.  Mosholu,  N.  Y., 
78.    Mott  Haven,  N.  Y.,  73.    Mouitain 


xlviii        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ViSW,  Cat,  49a,  Mountain  View,  N.  J., 
165,  169-70.  Ml  Carboo,  Pa.,  34a.  Mt.  Car- 
md,  Ct.,  134-s,  349>  486,  581.  *Mt.  Gus 
BI0I,  IlL,  486,  787.  Mt  Crawford,  Va., 
346.  Mt.  Desert,  Me.,  130,  374-7,  379,  a8i, 
5H-13,  5*5.  573-  Mt.  Eden,  CaL,  493.  Mt. 
£deo,  Ky.,  336.  Mt.  £phraim,  N.  J.,  390, 
53a.  Mt.  Forest,  (hU.t  316.  Mt.  Gambier, 
VicL,  560.  Mt.  Hennon,  N.  J.,  164.  Mt. 
Holly,  N.  J.,  777.  Mt.  Hope,  N.  J.,  164. 
Mt.  Hope,  Ont.,  332.  Mt.  Jackson,  Va., 
346,348,  382-3.  Mt.  Joy,  Pa.,  496.  Mt. 
Kisko,  N.  Y.,  76,  X87.  Mt.  Morris.  N.  Y., 
58,  313.  Mt.  Fleassnt,  Pa.,  339,  779.  Mt. 
Pulaski,  IIL,  485.  Mt.  St.  Vincent,  N.  Y., 
78,  80.  Mt.  Saiem,  Ont.^  331.  Mt.  Sidney, 
Va.,  346,  351-2,  486.  Mt.  Stewart,  P.  E.  /., 
390-1.  Mt.  Uniacke,  N.  S.,  387.  Mt. 
Vernon,  N.  Y.,  79,  138,  583,  773.  Mt. 
Vernon,  O.,  501,  785.  Mt.  Vernon,  (7n/., 
317.  Mt.  Vernon,  Va.,  376.  Mt  Washing- 
ton, Ky.,  336.  Much  Wenlock,  Emg:,  793. 
Mullica  HiU,  N.  J.,  390.  Mumford,  N.  V., 
233.  Mundaiioo,  N.  S.  H^.,  '564.  Munich, 
Ger.,  481,  651,  697.  Murcbison,  I'^tei.,  563. 
Murphy's  Comers,  Omi.,  333.  Murray, 
N.  v.,  333.  Mustapha  Paslia,  7»r.,  483. 
Kyerstown,  Pa.,  343,  610,  779. 

Nagasaki, /a/.,  573.  Nancy,  Fr.^  139,  480, 
545.  Nanuet,  N.Y.,586.  *Nap&,  Cal.,  490. 
Napanee,  Oni.,  319-23,  324-5,  506.  Naper^ 
vUle,  III.,  479.  Napier,  ^^.  Z.,  568.  Naples, 
/<.,  55X-2,  600.  *Napoleon,  O.,  479-  Nar- 
racoorte,  Tic/.,  560.  •Nashua,  N.  H.,  128, 
137.  500.  507-8.  575»  637,  643,  766.  •Kashp 
ville,  Tenn.,  331,  353,  500,  595,  597,  783. 
Nassau,  N.  Y.,  479.  Natick,  Ms.,  xix-is, 
1T4,  208.  Natural  Bridge,  Va.,  348-51,  525, 
610,  782.  Naugatnck,  Ct.,  141,  582.  Na- 
\enby,  Enjir-t  539-  Navoo,  Ottt.t  332.  NazSr 
reth.  Pa.,  779.  Needham,  Ms.,  29,  33, 768. 
Neenah,  Wis.,  787.  Negaonee,  Mich.,  785. 
Nenagh,  /rr.,  546.  Nevis,  N.  Y.,  196.  •New 
Albany,  Ind.,  335,  486,  595.  New  Albion, 
N.  v.,  223.  New  Almaden,  Cal.,  789.  New- 
ark, Eftg^.,  539-4«-  •Newark,  N.  J.,  39-33, 
5«-a.  55.  58,  83,  84,  12 X,  156,  159-60,  X62-4, 
166-70,  172,  174-5,  177.  ao7,  a^o,  3»7.  37». 
387-8,  SOI,  509- xo,  583-4,  587-9,  610,  632,  654, 
669,  7II-X3,  777.  •Newark,  O.,  785.  New 
Haden,  lU.,  485.  New  Brighton  (S.  I.),  N.  Y., 
32, 156.  NewBritsln,  Ct,  ia8,  134, 136-8, 
14a,  I45f  «49»  »50.  377,   S*»-«.  77©.     •New 


Bmnswick,  N.  J.,  167,  X73,  343.  377.  499. 
777.  Newbuzg,  Ind.,  237.  •Newborgh, 
N.  Y.,  74,  I2X,  X46,  171,  X94,  197,  340,  498, 
582,  610,  702,  772.  Newbury,  Eng^.,  567. 
•Newburyport,  Ms.,  101-2,  512,  518.  New 
Castle,  Ala.,  783.  Newcastle,  CaL,  476. 
Newcastle,  Del,  533.  Newcastle,  Eng., 
599, 642, 644, 646-7.  •New Castle,  Ind.,  336, 
786.  Newcastle,  Ont.,  319-20,  325.  •New 
Castle,  Pa.,  779.  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  £11^., 
554,  646,  687-8, 79a.  New  Concord,  O.,  245, 
485.  New  Dorp  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  158.  New- 
field,  N.  J.,  522.  Newfoundland,  N.  J.,  6x0^ 
777.  New  Hartford,  Ct,  X43-5.  *New 
Haven,  Ct,  12, 27,  30-3,  50,  54, 61, 99, 113, 

137-8,  X32-6,  X38-40,  142,  144-5,  m8-9,  «5«, 
X71,  346,  349-50.  377-8.  39».  394.  398-9.  4ox, 
404,  435.  438,  464-5.  5o«.  5«o-".  5"-3.  58i-a, 
593.  627,  643,  7*2.  770-    Newhaven,  Em^., 

480.  New  Haven,  Ky.,  229,  234.  New 
Holland,  Pa.,  486.  New  Huriey,  N.,  Y., 
X98.  Newington,  Ct.,  136-7, 250.  New  Leb- 
anon, N.  v.,  488.  New  Lenox,  Ms.,  148. 
•New  London,  Ct,  32,  85,  X29-3X,  145, 
X48.  X50,  X53,  58X,  593,  597,  6x0.  New 
Longbach,  Atts/.,  481.  Newmarket,  Eng., 
539.  Newmarket,  Md.,  377.  Newmar- 
ket, Oft/.f  316,  789.  New  Market,  Va., 
344,  346-8,  351,  381-3,  388,  495.  498.  New 
Milford,  Ct.,  X43,  582,  770.  New  Milford, 
Pa.,  341.  •New  Orleans,  La.,  2,  140,  500, 
50X,  537,  595,  597,  628,  654,  670,  783.  New 
Oxford,  Pa'.,  351,  486,  495.  New  Paltz,  N. 
v.,  198.  New  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  342.  New 
Plymouth,  A^.  Z.,  568-9.  Newport,  Del., 
372.  •Newport,  Ky.,  590,  784.  Newport, 
N.  H.,  500.  Newport,  Pa.,  496.  •New- 
port, R.  I.,  X2,  24,28,  3»-3.37.  >o8,  150,  5»6, 
523,  526,  5SX,  615-6,  625,  800.  Newport 
News,  Va.,  595.  Newportville,  Pa.,  377. 
New  Preston,  Ct.,  770.  New  BocheUe, 
N.  v.,  9x,  138,  247,  637,  773.  Ncwry,  Eng^., 
792.  New  Saruro,  (7«/.,  331.  NewTacoma, 
Wash.,  7S8.  'Newton,  la.,  479-  Newton, 
Ms.,  31,  185,  517,  530,  63 X,  768.  *Newton, 
N.  J.,  777.  Newton  Corners,  N.  Y.,  2x1. 
Newton  Lower  Falls,  Ms.,  ixr,  114.  New* 
tonville,  Ms.,  63 x.  Newlonville,  Oni.f  3x9, 
325.  Newtown,  Ct,  15 X,  583.  Newtown  (L. 
I.),  N.  Y.,  5S,  90.  Newtown,  Px,  345-  New 
Utrecht  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  90.     Neusatz,  Serv., 

481.  'New  York  City,  N.  Y.,  3,  xi,  la. 
*5-6,  2%  3«-3i  38,  43,  46-7,  5«.  53-4,  64-6,  8a, 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xlix 


84-5,  87-92,  94-7i  99i  »<»»  »o5»  '09»  "2-3, 
128,  132,  138,  150-9,  166,  x68,  171,  177,  183, 
187,  189-90,  193,  197-8,  207, 209,  234>>38i  *4»i 
Z46,  249,  252,  258,  264,  275,  279,  288,  296, 
"98,  30s,  308,  3«*>  3ao,  323,  33«»  345»  350| 
352-6,  363-70.  37a.  374,  377-81  384,  388,  391, 
399,  402-4,  407,  427-38,  448-54,  45*^,  464-6, 
469,  472,  474,  481,  4S7,  494,  499-5o»»  504,  5«Oi 
522,  524.  5^70,  572,  582-8,  592-4,  597, 610-1 1, 
615-20,  625-'*,  643,  654-7,  659,  662,  667,  672, 
678,680,687,700,  706,  708,  71 1-2,  728,730, 
733,  772-5,  799.    New  York  Mills,  N.  Y., 

336.  Nezmely,  ^iM.,  481.  Niagara  Falls, 

N.  Y.,  v.,  12,  28,  31,  50,  52,  55,  199,  202-4, 
2x4,216,  223,  232,  293,  296,  315,  317,  323-5, 
33<,  333,  382,  4S8,  500-1,  582,  586,  593,  6io, 
775.  Niantic,  Ci.,  130.  Nicetown,  Pa.,  377. 
Nilcs,  N.  Y.,  223.  Niles,  O.,  594,  785. 
Nisch,  Serv.j  4S1-2.  Nbhapoor,  /Vr.,  571. 
Nissouri,  Oni.f  332.  Noank,  Ct.,  770. 
Noblesboro,  N. Y.,  2 1 1.  *Noblesville,  Ind., 
625,  786.  Norfolk,  Ct.,  143-4,  700.  Nor- 
folk,  Va.,  352,  782.  Nonnandy,  Ky.,  236. 
Nonnan's  Cross,  Eng.^  532,  539,  541,  553.4. 
*Norriatown,  Pa.,  389,  779.  N.  Adams, 
Ms.,  193-4,  500,  700.  N.  AdeLiide,  S.  Aus., 
SfiOf  793*  N.  Amherst,  Ms.,  120.  North- 
ampton, Exg".,  539,  792.  ^Northampton, 
Ms.,  31,  1x4,  xx8-2r,  127,  183,  X9t,  324,  610, 
7^  N.  Andover,  Ms.,  76S.  N.  Anson, 
Me.,  574.  N.  Becket,  Ms.,  121.  N.  Bend, 
Neb.,  478.  N.  Blandford,  Ms.,  121,  208. 
Horthboro,  Ms.,  29,  51,  103,  ixx,  113-4, 
"7,  S<4'  Northbridge,  Ms.,  109.  N.  Cam- 
bridge, Ms.,  103.  N.  Canaan,  Ct.,  143.  N. 
Collins,  N.  Y.,  223.  N.  Conway,  N.  H., 
576-7.  N.  Creek,  N.Y., 211.  N.  Dighton, 
IL  I.,  5S1.  N.  East,  Md.,  782.  N.  East, 
Omi.,  313.  N.  East.  Pa.,  50, 205-6, 37X.  N. 
Easton,  Ms.,  581.  Northfield,  Ct.,  142. 
Northfleld,  Ms.,  517.  Northfield,  N.  J., 
'63, 175.  Northfield,  Vt.,  578.  N.  Fork, 
Ky.,  a33.  N.  Fork,  Va..  38a.  N.  Hadley, 
Ms«,  579.  N.  Hatfield,  Ms.,  31,  1x9,  182-3. 
9.  Haven,  Ct.,  133-5.  N.  Hoosick,  N.  Y., 
193.  N.  Lisbon,  N.  H.,  576.  N.  London, 
Ev-»  534f  543-  N.  Otselic,  N.  Y.,  337.  N. 
Petersburg,  N.  Y.,  193.    N.  Pitcher,  N.  Y., 

337.  N.  Platte,  Neb.,  478,  489.  North- 
port  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151, 158.  N.  Pownal, 
Vl,  193.  N.  Eandolph,  Vt.,  578.  N. 
Shields,  Em^.,  645-6,  79^  N.  Turner,  Me., 
$74.     N.  Vallejo    " '  ^ville, 


N.  Y.,  X55,  SIX.  N.  Walpole,  Ms.,  107. 
N.  Walsham,  £»^.,  646.  N.  Weare,  N. 
H.,  500.  N.  Wilbraham,  Ms.,  xio,  1x7. 
Norwalk,  Cl,  139,  X43,  248,  657.  ♦Nop- 
walk,  O.,  488,  785.  Norway,  Me.,  574, 
Norway,  Oftf.,  319.  ^Norwich,  Ct.,  129-30, 
593,  770-  Norwich,  Eng:^  538-9,  683.  Nor- 
wich, N.  Y.,  X51,  336.  Norwich,  O.,  245. 
Norwich,  Oftt.f  332.  Norwood,  Ms.,  X07, 
376.  Norwood,  N.  Y.,  775.  Norval,  OmL, 
3XS-X9.  Notre  Dame  du  Portage,  Que.,  329- 
30.  Nottingham,  £»g.,  539,  553,  646-7. 
Nukhab,  Ptr.,  57X.  Nmida,  N.  Y.,  214. 
Nyack,  N.  Y.,  30,  32,  51,  75,  80,  198,  586-7. 
Oakfield,  N.  Y.,  222.  Oak  Hall,  Ky., 
233.  Oakham,  ^M'^.,  539.  *Oakland,Cal., 
473,  490,  492-3,  789-  Oakland,  Ind.,  485. 
•Oakland,  Md.,  487.  Oakland,  N.  J.,  170. 
Oakvills,  Ct.,  142.  Oamarti,  AT.  Z.,  794. 
Oberkirch,  Gfr.,  48X.  Oberlin.  O.,  501,  785. 
Ockham,  Eng.,  547-  Oconomowoo,  Wis., 
50f.  'Ogallala,  Neb.,  478,  489.  *Ogden, 
Utah,  475,  480,  788.  Ogdensburg,  N.  Y., 
48,  296,  29S,  303,  317,  326,  333,  582,  594. 
Ohinemutu,  JV.  Z.,  567.  Ojata,  Dak.,  788. 
Okehampton,  Eng".,  536,  554.  Old  Ham- 
burg, Ky.,  236.  Old  Lyme,  Ct.,  13 1.  Old 
Orchard  Beach,  Me.,  575.  Glean,  N.  Y., 
208, 222-3,  775.  Olmstedvllle,  N.  Y.,  211. 
*Omaha,  Neb.,  475,  478,  480, 489,  628,  788. 
Onehunga,  A^.  Z.,  568.  Oneida,  N.  Y.,  28, 
3x,  201-2,  208,  2X2,  220,  336,  479.  Opem- 
gasse,  Aust.,(iAS'  Ophir,  Cal.,  476.  Oporto, 
Port.,  599.  Opunake,  N.  Z.,  569.  Oramel, 
N.  Y.,  2x7.  Oran,  N.  Y.,  336.  Orange, 
Ind.,  786.  Orange,  Ms.,  114,  579,  768. 
Orange,  N.  J.,  27,  29,  30, 33, 51-2,82,  x6i-4, 
«74-5,  207, 220,  509,  584,  588-9,  610,  678,  711, 
777.  ^Grange,  Va.,  348.  Grange  Valley, 
N.  J.,  777.  Orangeville,  0/ii.,  316.  Oran- 
more,  /rr.,  645.  Oregon,  Pa.,  387.  Orillia, 
Ont.,  316.  Oriskany,  N.  Y.,  2ox,  210.  •Or- 
lando, Fior.f  783.  Orleans,  Fr.^  558.  Oro- 
no,  Me.,515.  Grrvllle,0.,  785.  Orwcll,c?«/., 
331.  Orwigsburg,  Pa.,  342, 498,  779.  Oshawa, 
Ottt.,  319.  *GBhko8h,  Wis.,  787.  'Gska- 
loosa,  la.,  643,  787.  Osprey,  Ont.,  318. 
•Ossipee,  N.  H.,  575-7.  Ostend,  Bel.,  522, 
551,  599.  Oswego,  111.,  479-  •Oswego, 
Kan.,  788.  •Oswego,  N.  Y.,  2x9,  333,  775. 
Otego,  N.  v.,  775.  Otis,  Ms.,  X2I,  479. 
Otisville,  N.  Y.,  34a  •Ottawa,  Kan.,  788. 
Ottawa,  Oni.,  31a,  327-31,  635,  789.    *Gtter- 


1 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


vUle,  Mo.,  485-6.  *Ottiixnwa,  la.,  672, 
787.  Overbrook,  Pa.,  389-90.  Ovid,  Mich., 
687,  785.  *Owexi8boro,  Ky.,  590,  784. 
Ow0880,  Mich.,  785.  Oxford,  Eng.y  533, 
539.  5M,  646.  Oxford,  Md.,  486,  593,  782. 
Oxford,  Pa.,  386,  388.  Oyster  Bay  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  151. 

*Padllcah,  Ky.,  590,  784.  Pahiatau,  A^. 
Z.,  568.  Paignton,  Eng.^  551,  792.  Painted 
Post,  N.  Y.,  2i8.  Paisley,  Oni.^  315.  Pa- 
lenville,  N.  Y.,  188,  498.  Palermo,  Me., 
574.  PaliBJUle,  Nev.,  477.  Palmer,  Ms., 
110,117,  128,  181,208,  479,  768.  Palmyra, 
Ind.,  235.  Palmyra,  Pa.,  343.  Palo  Alto, 
Cal.,  492.  Panama,  N.  Y.,  587.  *PaoU, 
Ind.,  235,  237.  Paoli,  Pa.,  378,  388-9.  Par- 
adise, Pa.,  496-7.  Paradise,  R.  I.,  loS. 
Paradox,  N.  Y.,  211.  Paris,  />.,  2,  99,  280, 
403,  406,  426,  448,  458-9,  480,  545,  551,  558, 
586,611,645,651,  698-9,  792.  *Pari8,  111., 
485-6.  'ParlB,  Ky.,  .233-5.  •PariB,  Me., 
515,  765.  Paris,  Ont.,  317,  325,  332.  Park- 
ville  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  775.  Parrsboro*,  N.  S., 
289.  Parsippany,  N.  J.,  163,  207.  PassaiC, 
N.  J.,  169,  777.  Patchogue  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
«5o»  «S3-5-  •Paterson,  N.  J.,  30,  33,  84,  164- 
70,  216,  588-9,  777.  Pan,  Fr.,  558,  651,  699, 
79a.  Paulus  Hook,  N.  J.,  168.  Pavilion, 
N.  Y.,  222.  Pawling,  N.  Y.,  188.  Paw- 
tnoket,  R.  I.,  106-9,  580-1,  628,  769.  Pax- 
ton,  Ms.,  579.  Peconic,  N.  Y.,  775.  Pe- 
cowsic,  Ms.,  580.  PeekskUl,  N.  Y.,  194, 
6*7.  775.  Pekin,  CAi.,  570.  Pekin,  N.  Y., 
122.  Pelham,  N.  Y.,  247.  Pelton*s  Cor- 
ners, Oai.,  332.  Pemberton,  N.  J.,  777. 
Penfield,  Pa.,  610,  779.  Ponacook,  N.  H., 
577.  Pennington,  N.  J.,  173.  Penrith, 
^f'i'-t  536.  Penryn,  Eng.,  646.  Penshursl, 
KrW.,  563.  Penzance,  Eng.,  554-5.  645. 
*Peoria,  111.,  489,  501,  787.  Pepperell,  Ms., 
ia8.  Phre  Marquette,  Oh/.,  595.  Perry, 
Me.,  261.  Perry,  N.  Y.,  222.  Perrysburg, 
N.  Y.,223.  Perrysburg,  O.,  479.  Perrys- 
viHe,  Pa.,  372-3,  377.  Perryville,  Kan.,  485- 
6.  Perryville,  Ky.,  226-9.  Perryville,  N. 
Y.,i88.  Perth,  (?«/.,  327.  Perth,  Scot,  si^, 
556.  Perth,  yew.,  563.  Perth  Amboy,  N. 
J.,  155,  158,  377,  777.  Peru,  Ms.,  121.  Pes- 
cara,  //.,  552.  Pesth,  f/un.,  551.  Petalnma, 
Cal,,  490,  789.  Peterboro,  Eng.,  538-9,  541, 
557-8.  Peterboro,  C?«/.,  598.  Petersburg,  N. 
Y.,193.  Petersburg,C)«/.,3i7.  *Peter8burg, 
Va.,   351.     Petersfield,  Eng.,   544.     Peters- 


thai,  Ger.f  481.  Peterwardein,  Slav.,  481. 
Pfalzburg,  Ger-^  4S0.  Philadelphia,  N.  Y., 
334.  *Philadelphia,  Pa.,  29-33,  158,  164, 
168,  172-3,  175,  177-8,  220,  237,  242,344-5. 

258»  303,  35».  354,  37a,  377-8,  388-9,  406, 
426,  434,  453-4,  457,  485,  487,  494,  49^S«>, 
504,  521-2,  526,  530,  574,  577-8,  581,584-5, 
589,  593-4,  596,  60s,  6x0,  618-20,  624-8,  643, 
652,  654-5,  660,  674,  677-9,  686,  779-80.  Phil- 
ippopolis,  Roum.,  481.  Philipsburg,  Pa., 
341.  Phillipeburg,  N.  J.,  173.  Phoenicia, 
N.  Y.,  49S.  Pickering,  Ont,  317.  Picton, 
N.  S.  JV.,  565-6.  Pictou,  //.  S.,  2S9,  592. 
Piedmont,  O.,  487.  Piedmont,  Wyo.,  477. 
Piermont,  N.  Y.,  80-1,  586-7.  Pierrepont 
Manor,  N.  Y.,  335.  Pigeon  Cove,  Ms.,  512. 
Pike,  N.  Y.,  216.  Pike,  Oni.,  322.  Pira- 
lico,  Eng.,  645.  •Pine  Bluff,  Ark.,  610, 
783.  Pine  Bluff,  Wyo.,  478.  Pine  Brook, 
N.  J.,  84,  162-70,  207.  Pine  Grove,  Pa., 
498.  Pinneo,  CoL,  501.  Pinos  Altos,  N. 
Mex.,  788.  Pipersville,  Pa.,  497.  •Pipe- 
Stone,  Minn.,  787.  Pirot,  Serv.,  481.  Pisa, 
//.,  552.  Pitman  Grove,  N.  J.,  390.  •Pitts- 
burg, Pa.,  485.  495 A  530,  587,  594-6, 
672,  780.  •Pittsfield,  Ms.,  112,  121,  126, 
144, 148,  170,  188,  197,  500,  700,  76S.  Pitts- 
field,  N.  H.,  577.  Pittsford,  Vt.,  579. 
Pittston,  Pa.,  30,  32,  341.  Pittstown, 
N.  Y.,  193,  219,  220.  Plainfield,  N.  J., 
164,  172,  177,  388,  777.  Plainville,  Ct., 
137,  «42,  M5,  *5o.  58a-  Piano,  111.,  479. 
Plantagenet,  Qiu.,  328.  Plantsville,  Ct., 
250,  770.  •Plattsburg,  N.  Y.,  186,  211, 
775.  •Plattsmouth,  Neb.,  478.  Pleasant 
Corners,  Pa.,  342.  Pleasant  Gap,  Mo.,  787. 
Pleasant  Hill,  Ky.,  226.  Pleasant  Valley, 
N.  J.,  32.  Pleasant  Valley,  Pa.,  341. 
Pleasantville,  N.  Y.,  96, 187.  •Plum  Creek, 
Neb.,  478,  480,  489.  Plymouth,  iFw^., 645-6. 
•Plymouth,  Ind.,  786.  •Plymouth,  Ms., 
112.  •Plymouth,  N.  H.,  576-7.  "  Podunk," 
607.  Point  Claire,  Que.,  328.  Point  Fort- 
une, Que.f  328.  Point  Levi,  Que.,  330,  575. 
Point  of  Bocks,  Md.,  51,  241-2.  Pomp- 
ton,  N.  J.,  30, 164-70.  Pont-a-Mousson,^r., 
139.  Pontoise,  Fr.,  558.  Pontook  Falls, 
Me.,  576.  Pontj'pridd,  Eng.,  683,  792. 
Poplar  Hill,  Oni.,  332.  Poplar  Springs, 
Md.,  349.  Portage,  N.  Y.,  30,  214*7,  222, 
582.  Port  Arthur,  Oni.,  789.  Port  Burwell, 
Oni.,  331.  Port  Carbon,  Pa.,  342.  Port 
Chester,  N.  Y.,  54, 73, 75, 79, 91, 139,  247-8, 


INDEX  OF  PLA  CES. 


W 


5S2,  5S7.  Port  Clinton,  Pa.,  299,  342.  Port 
Deposit,  Md.,  372-3,  377.  Port  Dickinson, 
N.  y.,  338.  Port  Dover,  Om^.,  332.  Port 
Elizabeth,  5".  ^/,  696.  Port  Elgin,  0«/., 
304. 3 1 5f  33 '  >  340.  789-  Port  Hastings,  J\^.  S., 
289.  Port  Hawkesbury,  AT.  .^.,  289-^0. 
Port  Henry,  N.  Y.,  211,  775.  Port  Hope, 
<?»/.,  3»9i  324-5,  530-  •Port  Huron,  Mich., 
33».  595-  Port  Jefferson  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
158.  Fort  Jervis,  N.  Y.,  28,  31,  46,  189, 
198, 207,  219,  296,  298-9,  305,  307-8,  340, 378, 
497,  501,  510,  582,  587,  610,  775.  Port  Kent, 
N.  v.,  211.  Portland,  Ky.,  235.  •Port- 
land, Me.,  Ill,  257-60,  268,  273-5,  279-80, 
503,  5*5-6,  573-5,  592,  594,  596,  610,  616,  627, 
766.  Portland,  N,  Y.,  206,  775.  Port- 
land, Or.,  492,  788.  Portland,  Pa.,  164. 
Port  Latour,  J^T.  S.,  288.  Port  Mulgrave, 
M  S.,  289.  Port  Republic,  Va.,  347-8. 
Port  Hichmond  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  84, 156-8. 
Port  Rush,  /re.,  499,  Port  Ryerse,  Oni., 
332.  Portsmouth,  £ng^.,  539,  547,  636,  645, 
647,  792.  ^Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  12,  29,  31, 
33,  101-2,  112,  192,  334,  500.  506-7.  S»2,  5*6, 
575.  577i  6io,  766.  *Port8mouth,  O.,  785. 
Portsmouth,  O/tt,  325.  Port  Stanley,  (?«/., 
331.  Portville,  N.  Y.,  223.  Potter,  Neb., 
478.  Pottersville,  N.  Y.,2ii.  Pottstown, 
Pa.,  35'.  484,  486,  578,  780.  •PottBville, 
Pa-,  296,  343,  498,  780.  'Ponghkeepsie, 
N.  Y.,  29,  31-3,  99,  121,  142-3,  146-7,  171-2, 
188,  194-8,  404,  498,  5»o,  523,  582,  775. 
Powell's  Gap,  Va.,  348.  Prague,  Ausi., 
552,  697.  Prees,  Eng.,  536.  Prescott,  (?«/., 
296-8,  301,  317,  326-7.  Pressburg,  Hun., 
4«i,  55'-  Preston,  Eng.,  536-7,  556,  645. 
*Freston,  Minn.,  787.  Preston,  O.,  785. 
Preston,  Ont.,  317.  Priest's,  Cal.,  491. 
"Princeton,  III,  479,  489,  787.  •Prince- 
ton, Ky.,  784.  Princeton,  Ms.,  610,  768. 
Frinoeton,  N.  J.,  377,  434,  777.  Princeton, 
Ont.^  324.  Proctor,  Vt.,  579.  Profile  House, 
N.  H.,  577.  Promontory,  Utah,  477. 
Prorapton,  Pa.,  339.  Prospect,  Ber.,  361. 
Prospect,  Ind.,  235.  Prospect,  N.  Y., 
aro.  Provins,  Fr.,  480.  Providence,  Ind., 
235.  •Providence.  R.  I.,  12, 85, 104-9,378, 
523,  581,  593,  597,  607,  628,  643,  769.  Pugh- 
town.  Pa.,  496.  Puhoj,  N.  Z.,  567.  Pu- 
Isskl,  Pa.,  335.  Ponzsntawney,  Pa.,  610, 
780.    PBrDen«31e«   Vau,  497.    Putney,  Vt., 

Quarry,  Utah, 


477.  Quebec,  Que. ,  293,  297-8, 327-33,  574-5, 
578,  592,  598.  Queensciiffe,  Viet.,  560. 
Queensville,  OtU.,  316.  Quincy,  Ms.,  106, 
109.    Quogue(L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  154-5. 

Rahway,  N.  J.,  158,  167,  172,  678,  778. 
Ramscys,  N.  J.,  169.  Ramsgate,  Eng.,  599. 
Randall  Bridge  Comer,  N.  Y.,  223.  Ban- 
dolph,  N.  Y.,  215,  223,  775.  *Bawlin8, 
Wyo.,  475,  478,  480.  *Bavenna,  O.,  785. 
Bavenswood  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  91.  Raymer- 
town,  N.  Y.,  193.  Ray's  Hill,  Pa.,  485. 
Beading,  Ms.,  768.  Beading,  Pa.,  242, 
296,  299,  302-3,  342-3,  387,  389,  522,  578,  596, 
780.  Keadville,  Ms.,  27.  Reanistown,  Pa., 
387.  Bed  Bank,  N.  J.,  778.  Redbum, 
Eng.^  539.  Redding,  Ct.,  138.  Redditch, 
Eng.,  646,  792.  Redfern,  N.  S.  W.^  565, 
696,  793.  Bed  Hook,  N.  Y.,  196.  *Bed- 
WOOd  City,  Cal,,  492.  Reilly's  Crossing, 
Que.,i2S.  Beistertown,  Md.,  377.  Relay, 
Md.,  377.  *Beno,  Nev.,  476-7,  492.  Rens- 
selaer Falls,  N.  Y.,  334.  Beynoldsbnrg, 
O.,  245,  485.  Rezonville,  Er.,  599.  Bhine- 
beck.  N.  Y.,  29,  194-6,  198,  378,  49s. 
Ricely,  Eng.,  539.  Blclunond,  Ind.,  488, 
786.  *Bichmond  (S.  I),  N.  Y.,  157.  Rich- 
mond, Ou/.,  327,  332.  Bichmond,  Va.,  228, 
347,  35*-2,  593»  628,  782.  Richmond  Hiil(L. 
1.),  N.  Y.,  775.  Richville,  N.  Y.,  334. 
Ridgefield,  Ct.,  13S.  Ridgefuld,  N.  J.,  30, 
84,  165-6,  168,  778.  Ridpevillc,  Md.,  377. 
Ridgeville,  O.,  479.  •Bidgway,  Pa.,  780. 
Rigaud,  Que.,  328.  Rimini,  //.,  552.  Rim- 
ouski.  Que.,  329-30.  Ripley,  Eng.,  537. 
Ripton,  Vt.,  578.  Riverdale,  III.,  519.  Riv- 
erdale,  N.  Y.,  80.  Biverhead(L.  I),  N.  Y., 
31,  150,  152-5,  775.  Riversdale,  Out.,  315. 
Biverslde,  Cal.,  491,  789.  Riverside,  N. 
Y.,  211.  Riverside,  Va.,  350.  Riverton, 
Ct.,  144,  770.  Riviire  Ouelle,  Qtte.,  328, 
330.  Roach's  Point,  On/.,  316.  *Boanoke, 
Va.,  350.  Robbinston,  Me.,  261-3,  265-7, 
274,  279.  Robesonia,  Pa.,  343.  Bochester, 
N.  H.,  577-8,  610,  766.  'Bochester,  N.  Y., 
12,  198,  202,  215-7,  222,  320,  333,  488,  501, 
594,  775-  Bockaway,  N.  J.,  163,  170,  207. 
Rock  Creek,  Wyo.,  478.  Rock  Enon 
Springs,  Va.,  495-7.  Bockford,  III.,  787. 
Rock  Glen,  N.  Y.,  222.  •Bock  Island,  111., 
475.  478-9.  489,  595-  •Boekland,  Me.,  279, 
5*5.  574-  Rockland  Lake,  N.  Y.,  775.  Rock- 
lin,  Cal.,  476.  Bock  Springs,  Wyo.,  477, 
643,  788.    BockviUe,  Ct.,  770.    RockviHe, 


lii 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Va.,  347,  376.  Roggen,  Col.,  501.  Rome, 
III.,  485.  Rome,  //.,  2,  427,  552,  600,  700, 
713.  Some,  N.  Y.,  201,  3o3,  210-11,  336, 
594»  776.  Romford,  Eng.^  792.  *Roxnney, 
W.  Va.,  345.  Eondout,  N.  Y.,  340.  Ron- 
neburg,  Ger.^  552.  Roselle,  N.  J.,  158,  778. 
Roseville,  N.  J.,  509.  Soslyn  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,  91, 151.  Rothenburg,  Cr^r.,  481.  Rother- 
ham,  N.  Z.,  569.  Rothrocksville,  Pa.,  387. 
Rotterdam,  Hol.y  553,  599.  Rouen,  Fr.^ 
480,  698.  Round  Lake,  N.  Y.,  378.  Round 
Plains,  Ont.t  332.  Rowley,  Ms.,  29,  31, 
101-2.  Roxbury,  Ct.,  143.  Roxbmy,  Ms., 
109,  114,  768.  Royalton,  Vt.,  578-9.  Roy- 
erville,  Md.,  4S6.  Royston,  Eng.^  541. 
Ruggles,  O.,  7S5.  *Bii8hTllle,  Ind.,  62S, 
786.  Rushworth,  Vict.^  566.  Russell,  Ms., 
121,  2o3.  BtlSSiaville,  Ind.,  786.  Ruther- 
ford, N.  J.,  166-7,  778.  ♦Rutland,  Vt.,  m, 
29,  31,  119,  184-5,  »9'-2»  194,  578-9.  594i  610, 
627,766.  Rutledge,  N.  Y.,  223.  Ryckman*s 
Corners,  (?«/.,  332.  Bye,  N.  Y.,  247.  Rye 
Beach,  N.  H.,  512.  Rye  Patch,  Nev.,  476. 
Saalfeld,  G«r.^  552.  Sabbath  Day  Point, 
N.  Y.,  186,  211.  S.nckville,  N,  B.^  790. 
*8aco,  Me.,  575.  *3acramento,  Cal.,  476, 
491.  Sadieville,  Ky.,  31,  51,  226.  *Sage- 
ville,  N.  Y.,  211.  St.  Albans,  Eng.^  539, 
553.  St.  Albans,  Vt.,  500,  766.  St.  Andre, 
Que.^  330.  St.  Andrews,  N.  B.^  274.  St. 
Andrew's,  N.  Y.,  196.  St.  Anne's,  Que.^ 
326^,  330,  575.  St.  Armand,  Que.j  500.  St. 
Catherine's,  Ont.t  324,  326,  634-5.  'St. 
Charles,  Mo.,  525.  St.  Charles,  Ont.^  323. 
*St.  Clairsville,  O.,  245.  •St.  Cloud, 
Minn.,  610,  787.  St.  Cloud,  N.  J.,  163-4.  St. 
Come,  Qtu.^  575.  St.  Fabian,  Qtte.^  329.  St. 
Flavie,  Que.t  329.  St.  Foy,  Qtte.^  330. 
St.  Ga'.lsn,  Switz.^  792.  St.  George,  Qtte.^ 
575.  St.  George's,  Ber.,  353,  355,  359,  362, 
610,  790.  St.  Gothard,  SioUz.^  552.  St. 
Helena,  Cal.,  490.  St.  Helens,  Eng,^  558. 
St.  Heliers,  Eng.^  792.  St.  Henry,  Que.f 
575.  St.  Ives,  Eng.^  539.  St.  Jean  Port, 
Qi*e.i  330.  St.  John,  N.  B.,  274,  282,  293, 
635,  790.  St.  John,  Oni.^  312,  3x4.  *St. 
Johns,  Mich.,  785.  St.  Johns,  Qtte.,  500. 
•St,  Johnsbnry,  Vt.,  1S4,  192.  St.  Johns- 
ville,  N.  Y.,  200,  20S.  St.  Joseph,  Que., 
574-5.  •St.  Joseph,  Mo.,  595,  787.  St. 
Joseph's,  Oni.f  327-8.  St.  Lambert,  Que.^ 
500.  St.  Louis,  Mich.,  785.  St.  Louis, 
Mo.,  a43i  3a»-3»  436»  48s-7f  5o»»  5*Sf  5a9» 


575.  594-5.  6a7-8.  632,  643,  652,  654,  671-a, 
677.  679,  787.  St.  Luce,  Que.,  329.  St 
Mary's,  Kan.,  788.  St.  Mary's,  Ont.,  331-2, 
789.  St.  Matthew's,  Ky.,  236.  St.  Neotts, 
-^«^-.  539.  54«-  •St.  Paul,  Minn.,  486-7, 
595.  627.  788.  St.  Peters,  C.  B.,  289.  St. 
Peters,  P.  E./.,2gi.  St.  Petersburg,  iPiw., 
2.  St.  Pierre,  Qtte.f  330.  St.  Roch,  Que., 
330.  St.  Simon,  Que.,  329.  St.  Stephen, 
M  ^.,265-6.  St.  Thomas,  Oni.,  301,  312, 
3»4-5.  3»9.  330-1.  634-5,  785.  St.  Valier, 
Que.,  330.  Salamanca,  N.  Y.,  206,  223. 
•Salem,  Ind.,  335.  'Salem,  Ms.,  16,  29, 
31,  101-2,  112,  512,  529,  673,  768.  *Salem, 
N.  J.,  390,  521.  *Salem,  N.  Y.,  193. 
•Salem.  Or.,  788.  •Salem,  Va.,  348.  Sal- 
ford,  Eug.,  543,  792.  •Salinas,  Cal.,  490, 
494.  Salisbury,  Ct.,  147,  700.  Salisbury, 
<^"i'-f  539i  645.  Salmon  Falls,  N.  H.,  766. 
Salmon  River,  AT.  S.,  283.  Salop,  Eng., 
645.  *Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  788.  Salt- 
ville,  N.  Y.,  222.  Samarkand,  Eus.,  570. 
Sandhurst,  l^ici.,  562-3,  566,  612,  793.  *San- 
du8ky,0.,  595.  Sandwich,  111.,  479.  Sandy 
Creek,  N.  Y.,  335.  Sandy  Hill.  N.Y.,  189. 
Sandy  Spring,  Md. ,  3  76.  San  Felipe,  Cal. , 
489.  'San  Francisco,  Cal,  2,  48,  204, 397, 
43 «.  473-5.  480,  489.  492-3,  499.  570.  572,  595, 

625, 627-S,  633,  661,  672,  789.  "San  Jose, 
Cal.,  489-94.  789-  San  Juan,  Cal.,  490. 
San  Lorenzo,  Cal.,  490,  493.  'San  Luis 
Obispo,  Cal.,  7S9.  San  Pablo,  Cal.,  475. 
•SanBafael,  Cal.,  490.  Santa  Clara,  Cal., 
491-2.  •Santa  Cruz,  Cal,  490-2.  *Santa 
Fe,  N.  Mex.,  594.  •Santa  Bosa,  Cal,  490. 
Santee  Agency,  Neb.,  78S.  Saratoga,  N, 
Y.,  186,  192-3,  197-8,  2o3,  211,  378,  497,  523, 
578,  627,  776.  Sardinia,  N.  Y.,  222.  Sarcn- 
grad,  Slav.,  481.  Sarnia,  Oni.,  332.  Sa»- 
seraw,  Ind.,  572.  Saugatuck,  Ct.,  138-9. 
Saumur,  Fr.,  645.  Saundersville,  Ms.,  109. 
•Savannah,  Ga.,  292,  592.  Saverne,  Ger., 
481.  Savin  Rock,Ct.,  138, 400,  ^o2.  Saybrook, 
Ct.,  132.  Sayre,  Pa.,  780.  Sayville  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  12,  51,  54,  150,  152-3.  Scarboro', 
Eng.,  792.  Scarboro',  Ont.,  316.  Schells- 
burg,  Pa.,  485.    •Schenectady,  N.  Y.,  9, 

X2,  28,  32-3,  199-202,  2o3,  479»  488,  610,  776. 

Schenevus,  N.  Y.,  776.  Schodack,  N.  Y., 
29,  51,  190,  342,  510,  552.  Schuylersville,  N. 
Y.,  74, 186, 190,  192,  246,  6ro,  776.  Schuyl- 
kill Haven,  Pa.,  498.  Scio,  N.  Y.,  333. 
Sclota,  Pa.,  341.     Scotch  Plains,  N.  J.,  173. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


liii 


Scotland,  OtU.,  332.    Soott  Haven,  Pa.,  780. 
*Seraatoil,   Pa.,  340,  501,  610,  780.    Sea- 
bright,  N.  J.,  7/8.    Seabrook,  N.  H.,  102. 
Seaiorth,   (?«/.,    31J,   315,  324,  332.     Seal 
Harbor,  Me.,  276-7.    Seanport,  Me.,  574. 
•Seattle,  Wash.,  78S.      Sebringville,  £?«/., 
317.     Ssiitan, /Vr.,  571.     Selkirk,  .Sr^?/.,  556. 
Semendria,  .S>rv.,43t.     Semen's  Gap,  Va., 
348.  Senate,  N.  Y.,  208,212.  Seneca  Falla, 
N.  Y.,  2o3,  212,  776.      Sennen,  Eng.^  555. 
Serra  Capriola,  //.,  552.     Setauket  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  fsS.     Sevenoaks,  Eug.,  645.    *Sew- 
ard.  Nab.,   485-6.     Sewlckley,  Pa.,  780. 
Seymour,  Ct.,    140.     Seymour,    Vict.^  564. 
Sezanne,  Fr.^  480.     Shady   Side,  N.  J.,  81, 
83.     Shaftesbury,  Eng.y  536.     Shaker.^,  Ct., 
254.     Shakars,  Ky.,  226-7.     Shakers,  N.  Y., 
197.     Shakespeare,   Ont.t  316-7.    Shanghai, 
C4/.,  572.     Shap  Fells,  Eng.,  536.    Sharing- 
ton,    Qne.f    500.       Sharon,    Ct.,    143,    147. 
Sharon,  Ms.,  27,   106,  109.     Sharon,  N.  Y., 
21$.     Sharon,  Ont.f  316.      Sharon  Springs, 
N.    Y.,    197,    378.      Sharood,    /Vr*.,    571. 
Shirpslrarg,  Md.,   384.    Sheakleyrille, 
Pa.,  780.    Shed's  Corners,  N.Y.,  337.    Shecr- 
ness-on-Sea,  Eng.^   645.      Sheffield,    Eng.y 
S39, 557, 792.    Sheffield,  111.,  479.    Sheffield, 
Ms.,   I43-I,   147,  579,  700.     Shefford,  Eng.^ 
646.     Shelburne,   N.    S.,  288.      Shelburne, 
(?«/.,  316.     Shelby,  N.  Y.,  222.     «Shelby- 
▼ille,  Ind.,  78S.    •Shelbyville,  Ky.,  232, 
236-7,  527.    Sheldon,  III.,  787.     Shellsburg, 
Pa.,  485, 497-8.    Shepherdstown,  W.  Va., 
234, 384, 610,782.  *Shepherd8Yille, Ky. ,  237. 
Sberbrooke,  Que.,   328.      Sheridan,  N.  Y., 
223.    Shsrifabad,  Per.,  571.     Sherman,  Col., 
477.    Sherman,  N.  Y.,  587,  776.      Sherman 
Center,  N.  Y. ,  5S7.   Shippenebnrg,  Pa. ,  3 44. 
Shoemakersvills,  Pa.,  342.     Shoreham,  Vt., 
579.      Short   Hilb,    N.    J.,    30,   162-3,    '74* 
Shrere,  O.,  785.     Shrewsbury,  Eng.,  539, 
554,642.     Shrewsbury,    Ms.,   110,   113,  117, 
208,  514.    Shrewsbury,  N.  J.,  778.  ^Sidney, 
Neb.,  478,  4S9.    Sidney,  Jv,  5'.,  289.    •Sid- 
ney, O.,  501,  785.    Silver  Creek,  N.  Y., 
50,  201-5,  3>3>  488,  610,   776.     Silver  Lake, 
N.  Y.,  222.     Silver  Spring,  Md.,  376.     Sim- 
coe,  OrU.,  315,  331-2,  S98.   6.14-6,  655,  677, 
789.    Simpach,  Atui.,  i$t.    Simpeonville, 
Ky.,  232,  216,  485.     Simsbury,  Ct.,  123,  125, 
145.    Sinelairyille,  N.  Y.,  223,  776.    Sin- 
gac,  N.  J.,  84,  165-    Siag  Sing.  N.  Y.,  76, 
194.     *Sloiix  Cl^,  la.,  787.    Sivas,  Tur.,    I 


48a.    Sittingboume,^«^.,547,  79a.  Sixteen 
Acres,  Ms.,  124.    *Skowhegan,  Me.,  373-4, 
515.    Sligo,  Md.,  349,  374,  376.    Sloatsburg, 
N.  Y.,  171.     Smithfield,  Eng.,  539.     Smith- 
field,  Ky.,  236.    Smith's,  Ber.,  79a    Smiths> 
boro,  N.  Y.,  219.     Smith's  Creek,  Cal.,  49a 
Smith's  Falls,  Oni.,  327.      Smith's   Ferry, 
Ms.,  31,   118-20,   126-7,  321,  579.     Smith's 
Mills,  N.  v.,  223.     Smiihtown  (L.   I.),  N. 
Y.,  158.    Smithville,  Ky.,237.    Smithville, 
N.   J.,   671,   778.     Smithville,   O.,   245. 
Snakeshanks,   Ttu.,  563.     Snicker's  Ferry, 
Va.,    383.     Snydersville,   Pa.,  341.      Sofia, 
Bvi.,  481.     'Solon,  Me.,   573-4,  610,  766. 
Somerset,  Ber.,  358,  361.    Somerset,  Eftg., 
645,  646.    •Somerset,  Pa  ,  496.    Somer- 
ville,  Ms.,  768.    •Somerville,  N.  J.,  164, 
«72.  3^7.  610,   733,   778.      Somerville,  Va., 
334.    Sorel,  Qtie.,  328-9.     Souris,  N.  S.,  29a 
S.   Abington   Station,   Ms.,   512-3,  768.    S. 
Amana,  la.,  479-    Southampton  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,    155.      Southampton,    Ont.,    315.     'S. 
Bend,  Ind.,  479.    S.  Bethlehem,  Pa.,  78a 
Southboro*,  Ma. ,  1 14, 514.  S.  Boston,  Ms., 
768.  Southhridge,Ms.,  768.  S.  Bridge  water, 
7Vw.,563.     S.  Canaan,  Ct.,  143.     S.Canton, 
Ms.,  109.    S.  Chicago,  111.,  519.    S.  Deer- 
field,  Ms.,  119,  182-3.    S.  Dover,  N.  Y.,  582. 
S.  Egremoni,  Ms.,  148,  700.     Southfield,  N. 
Y.,  171.  S.  Framingham,  Ms.,  ai,  103,  m, 
128,258,  513,  575,  768.    S.  Gardner,  Ms., 
768.    S.  Hadley,  Ms.,  119-20.     S.   Hadley 
Falls,  Ms.,  120, 126, 580,  768.   Sonthington, 
Ct.,  139,  250.     S.  Jersey,  Pa.,  390.    S.  Kil- 
vington,  Eng.,  792.     S.  Lee,  Ms.,  148.     S. 
Lyme,  Ct.,  130.     S.  Meriden,  Ct.,  134.    S. 
Mountain,  Md.,  349.     S.  New  Market,  N. 
H.,   575i   766.      S.   Norfolk,  Ct.,    143.    S. 
Norwalk,  Ct.,  138^.     S.  Orange,  N.  J., 
160,  162,  509.     S.  Otselic,  N.  Y.,  336-7.     S. 
Oyster  Bay  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150,  152,  154.    S. 
Paris,  Me.,  574.    S.  Pitcher,  N.  Y.,  337. 
S.  Platte,  Neb.,  478.    Sottthport,  Ct.,  138, 
139.     S.  Pownal,  Vt.,  193.    S.  B3yalton, 
Vt.,  578.    S.  Scituate,  Ms.,  768.     Southsea, 
■^V-*  599-     S.  Vallejo,  Cal,  491.     S.  Ver- 
non,  Vt.,  183.      Southwell,   Eng.,  539.     S. 
West  Harbor.  Me.,  574.    South  wick,  Ms., 
121,  123,  125,  144,  146,  579.     S.  Yarra,  yicf., 
S^3»  794.      Spanish  Point,   Ber.,  35^,  361. 
Sparkill,  N.  Y.,  80,  5«6.7.    •Sparta,  Wis., 
787.    Speier,  Ger.,  552.    Spencer,  Ms.,  103, 
no,  1x4,  768.    Spencerport,  N.  Y.,  317. 


liv 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Sperryville,  Va.,  352,  379.  Spezia,  //.,  55a. 
Spiegeltown,  N.  Y.,  193.  Spofford^s  Point,  N. 
Y.,  96.  ^Springfield,  111.,  486,  501, 524,610, 
787.  Springfield,  Irt.f  546.  *Springfield, 
Ky.,  229-30,  234.  *  Springfield,  Ms.,  11-2, 
26-33,42,46,  58,  61,  103-4,  loQ,  113-29,  138, 
144-6,  149.  »5«f  i7»-2,  179-831  »9«.  »93-4,  »96, 
208,  251-4,  259,  294-5,  321-3.  333.  353.  37», 
376.7,  388,  391,  400,  404,  470,  488,  491,  493. 
500-1,  508,  510,  519,  523-5.  527.  547.  569, 
579.  580-2,  593,  597,  603,  605,  607,  610,  617, 
619,  627-8,  631-3,  654,  660-6,  672,  67s,  677, 
679.  703,  706,  709-*o.  712,  722,  768.  Spring- 
field, N.  J.,  164.  'Springfield,  O.,  245, 
485,  488,  501, 627,  785.  Springfield,  Ont.^  318. 
Springfield,  Vt.,  766.  Springvllle,  N. 
Y.,  157.  Staatsburg,  N.  Y.,  196.  Stafford, 
Eng.^  539.  792.  Stafford,  N.  Y.,  222.  Staf- 
fordville,  0«/.,  332.  Stamboul,  Tur.^  482. 
Stamford,  Eng.^  539-4  >.  645.  Stamford, 
Ct,  48,  138-9,  248-9,  582,  610,  770.  Stan- 
ford River,  Eng.^  792.  Stanhope,  N.  J., 
51,163,  173,  207.  Stannardsville,  Va.,348. 
•Stanton,  Ky.,  590.  Stapleton  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,  156.  Stark  Water,  N.  H.,  576.  *Staun- 
ton,  Va.,  46,  48,  242,  296,  300,  305,  317,  335, 
345-5*.  376,  382-3,  35>8, 495,  497.  5«».  610,  782. 
Stawell,  Vict.f  561-2,  565-6,  696.  Stayner, 
C7«/.,3i6.  Steelton,  Pa.,  244-  Stemlers- 
ville,  Pa.,  341.  *Steiibenyllle,  O.,  485. 
Stevenage,  Eng.^  54 1.  Stiermark,  Aust.,  552. 
Stillwater,  N.  Y.,  186,  190,  192,  610,  776. 
Stockbridge,  Ms.,  148,  510,700.  Stockholm, 
Swe.f  700.  Stockport,  N.  Y.,  527-8,  776. 
•Stockton,  Cal.,  491-2.  Stockton,  Me., 
574.  Stone,  Eng.,  480.  Stoneham,  Ms., 
769.  Stoneham,  Oni.t  330.  Stonehenge, 
Eng.t  539.  Stone  House,  Nev.,  476.  Ston- 
ington,  Ct.,85,  593.  Stony  Creek,  Ct.,  132. 
Stony  Kill,  N.  Y.,  194.  Stony  Point,  Ont., 
332,  Stouffville,  OfU.,  316.  Stow,  Ms., 
579.  Stowe,  Vt.,  579.  Stoyestown,  Pa., 
485.  Strafford,  N.  H.,  577.  Strasburg,  Ger.^ 
481,  545.  552.  697.  Strasburg,  Mo.,  485. 
Strasburg,  Va.,  244,  345,  347-8,  350-1, 
610,  782.  Stratford,  Ct.,  37, 138,  142,  249. 
Stratford,  Eng.,  645.  Stratford,  N.  Z.,  569. 
Stratford,  Ont.,  315,  317,  324,  332,  635. 
Strathallan,  (?«/.,  3x7.  Strathbum,  Ont.,  331. 
Strathroy,  OtU.,  319,  332.  Streetsville,  Oni.^ 
318.  StrenburE,i4K5/.,48x.  *Stroudabnrg,- 
Pa.,  296,  299,  302,  341.  Stuart,  la.,  478. 
Stayvesant  Landing,   N.  Y.,  190,  192. 


Suckasunny,  N.  J.,  164,  Suez,  Eg.^  571. 
Suffem,  N.  Y.,  169,  171,  192,  198,  5S2,  5^7, 
610,  776.  SufSeld,  Ct.,  122-3,  125,  146,  770. 
Suisun,  Cal.,  475,  491.  Sumnisrdaie,  N.  Y., 
587.  Summerside,  P.  E.  /.,  290.  Summit, 
Cal.,  476.  Summit,  N.  J.,  669,  778.  Sum- 
mit, Pa.,  245.  Summit  Hill,  Pa.,  323. 
Summit  Point,  W.  Va.,  782.  Sunderland, 
Eng.f  545,  645.  Sunderland,  Ms.,  579. 
Surbiton,  Eug.^  551.  Susquehanna,  Pa., 
219,  296,  338,  7S0.  Sutton,  Ont.t  316. 
Swatnsville,  N.  Y..  222.  Swansea,  Eng., 
645-6.  Swedesboro,  N.  J.,  390.  Swift 
Run  Gap,  Va.,  348.  *Sycamore,  111.,  787. 
Sydenham,  Eng.^  405,  792.  Sydney,  N,  S. 
W.,  561,  562,  564-6,  570,  652,  696,  793. 
Syosset(L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151,530.  *3yracuse, 
N.  Y.,  12,  30,  32-3,  44,  50-1,  201-2,  20S,  212, 
219,  298,  300,  305-6,  335-6,  343,  346,  479,  488, 
577.  594.  776*     Szeksard,  Hun.j  481. 

Tabbas,  /'rr.,  571.  Tabreez,  Per.,  482. 
Ta-ho,  CA/.,  572.  Tain,  Scot.,  645.  Ta- 
kapo,  N.  Z.,  56S.  Talbot,  (?«/.,  332.  Tal- 
bot, K<c/.,  560.  Tamaqua,  Pa.,  299,  302, 
342,  497-8.  Tamworth,  N.  H.,  576.  Tan- 
nersvilb,  N.  Y.,  188,  498.  Tappan,  N.  Y., 
30,  80.  Tara,  (?«/.,  315.  Tarawera,  N.  Z., 
567.  Tarcuita,  yict.,  561.  Tariff ville,  Ct., 
145.    Tarrytown,  N.  Y.,  27-32,  50-3,  75-80, 

9'.9S-9.  >39.  t7».  187,  193-5,  »9S  258,  275, 
281,  343.  404,  582,  587,  610,  776.  Tarsus, 
Per.f  482.  Tartar  Bazardjik,  Roum.,  481. 
Tashkent,  Rus.,  570.  Tatham,  Ms.,  25a. 
Taunton,  Eng.^  554.  *Taunton,  Ms.,  12, 
28,  31,  33,  106,  109,  511,769.  Tavistock, 
Oni-t  3»5-7-  Taylor,  N.  Y.,  336.  •Taylors- 
ville,  Ky.,  236-7.  Taylorsville,  Pa.,  341. 
Taylorworth,  Ont.,  327.  Tecoma,  Nev.,  477. 
Tecumseh,  Oni.,  301,  311.  Teheran,  Per., 
473-4,  480,  482-3,  570-1,  792.  Telegraph, 
Mo.,  525.  Telford,  Pa.,  388-9.  Temple- 
ton,  Ms.,  579,  769.  Tcmpsford,  Eng.,  551. 
Tenafiy,  N.  J.,  80,  Terang,  Vict.,  559-61, 
563.  Terrace,  Utah,  477.  *Terre  Haute, 
Ind.,  4S6-7,  595,  786.  Tcrryvillc,  Ct.,  142. 
Thamesford,  Ont.,  324,  332.  Thamesville, 
Ont.,  331-2.  Thomaston,  Ct.,  142,  770. 
*Thoma8vllle,  Ga.,  782.  Tliompson,  Pa., 
339.  Thompsonville,  Ct.,  32-3,  122,  125, 
181.  Thorudale,  Ont.,  332.  Thomdike, 
Ms.,  104,  117,  181.  Thornhlll,  Ont.,  316. 
Thornton,  N.  H.,  577.  Thorold,  Oni.,  789. 
Thrapston,  iETiv^.,  540.    Three  Rivers,  Ms., 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


Iv 


99,  104,  XI 7.  Three  RiveiB,  Qtu.^  500. 
Throgg's  Neck,  N.  Y.,  74,  246.  Thurso, 
Ont.^  328.  ITiurso,  Scot.^  555.  Ticon- 
deroga,  N.  Y.,  29,  51,  185-6,  211,  57S. 
Tiffin,  la.,  479,  48S.  Tiflis,  Rus.^  571. 
TignUh,  N.  S.,  290.  Tilghman's  Island, 
Md.,  782.  Tioga,  P.i.,  594.  Tioga  Center, 
N.  Y.,  219-  TiskUwa,  lU..  489.  Titus- 
▼ille.  Pa.,  610,  781.  Tiverton,  On/.,  315. 
Tiverton,  R.  I.,  jo8.  Tivoli,  N.  Y.,  51a 
Togus,  Me.,  573.  Tolchester,  Md.,  589. 
•Toledo,  O.,  479,  488,  SOI,  595,  785.  •Tol- 
land, Ct.,  149.  Tolland,  Ms.,  144.  Tomah, 
Wis.,  7S7.  Tonjpkinsville  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  32, 
iSSi  157-  Tomsk,  Hits.,  570.  Tonawanda, 
N.  Y.,  52,  203,  215,  217.  *Topeka,  Kan., 
594,  788.  Torbet-i-Haiderie,  /Vr.,  571. 
Toronto,  Oni.,  300-1,  305,  315-30,  324-6,  331, 
333,  530.  593.  593, 633-5.669,  789.  Torrlng- 
ton,  Ct.,  144.  TottenviUe  (S.  I.}.  N.  Y., 
«55»  «s8,  377.  •Towanda,  Pa.,  ii,  30,  32, 
219,  610,  781.  *T0W80n,  Md.,  377.  Tra- 
cadie.  A'.  S.,  2S9.  Tralee,  /re.,  695,  79a. 
Tremont,  N.  Y.,  73,  583.  Trenton,  111., 
48I  •Trenton,  N.  J.,  99,  164,  173.  5", 
610,  778.  Trenton,  N.  y.,  210,  582.  Tren- 
ton, On/.f  319,  321,  323.  Trenton  Falls,  N. 
Y.,  30,  33,  210,  212,  334,  336.  Trcxlertown, 
Pa.,  387.  Triangle,  N.  Y.,  498.  Trieste, 
Atut.,  552.  Trochsville,  Pa.,  341.  Trois 
Pistoles,  Que.,  329-30.  Trouville,  Fr.,  48a 
•Troy,  N.  Y.,  85,  190-1,  208,  310,  378,  594, 
776.  Tnickee,  Cal.,  476.  Tmro,  N.  S., 
2^>  53^*  79^  Tubby  Hook,  N.  Y.,  7a,  80. 
Tubingen,  Ger.,  481.  Tuckahoe,  N.  Y.,  79, 
776.  Tuckertown,  Ber.,  360.  •TnCBOn, 
Aria.,  789.  Turners,  N.  Y.,  587.  Tumer'8 
FaIIs,  Ms.,  183.  Tuscarora,  N.  Y.,  214. 
Tuscarora,  Pa.,  342.  •Tuskegee,  Ala., 
783.  Turin,  //.,  427,  552,  700.  Tuxedo, 
N.  Y.,  587.  Tuxford,  Eft/j^.,  540.  Twin 
Mountain  House,  N.  H.,  577.  Two  Bridges, 
N.  J.,  169.     Tyngsboro,  Ms.,  508. 

Uddsvalla,  Sitfe.,  599,  792.  Uhlersville, 
Pa.,  497.  *TTkiall.  Cal.,  490.  Ulm,  Ger., 
481.  Umballa,  Ittd.,  572.  XTnadilla,  N. 
Y.,  49S.  Underwood,  {?«/.,  315.  •Union, 
Mo.,  486.  Union,  N.  Y.,  218.  Union 
Forge,  Pa.,  49S.  •Uniontown,  Pa.,  245, 
496, 610,  7S1.  Unionville,  Ct.,  145.  Up- 
per Bartlctt,  N.  H.,  576.  Upper  Hull, 
AT.  Z..  569.  Upper  Lachine,  Que.,  328. 
Vpp'T  Lisle,  N.  Y.,  337.    Upper  Montclair, 


N.  J.,  167,  778.  Upper  Red  Hook,  N.  Y., 
196.  Upperville,  Va.,  496.  Upton,  Ky., 
31,  231.  *Urbana,  O.,  501.  Utica,  Ind., 
235.  'Utica,  N.  Y.,  12,  32-3,  201-2,  20S-10, 
213,  220-1,  334,  336,  479,  488,  594,  610,  776. 
Utrecht,  Ho/.,  645,  651,  708,  792.  Ux- 
bridge.  Ms.,  109. 

Valatle,  N.  Y.,  148,  197.  Valley  Creek, 
Pa.,  389.  Valley  Station,  Ky.,  237.  Valois, 
Q/4e.,  328.  Vanceboro,  Me.,  596.  •Van- 
dalia,  111.,  595.  Vandalia,  O.,  485.  Van- 
derbih»s  Landing  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  32.  Van 
Deusenville,  Ms.,  148.  Van  Homesville, 
N.  Y.,  776.  Varennes,  Ofii.,  328.  Vau- 
dreuil,  Que.,  328.  Venaken,  N.  J.,  172. 
Venice,  //.,  552.  Ventimiglia,  //.,  600. 
Vercheres,  Que.,  328.  Verdi,  Nev.,  476. 
Verdun,  Fr.,  599.  Vernon,  Ct.,  576,  770. 
Verona,  N.  J.,  161,  164-5,  »67,  175,  201,  208. 
Verplank's  Point,  N.  Y.,  776.  •VersailleB, 
Ky.,  233,  236.  Versailles,  N.  Y.,  223. 
Vesul,  N.  Y. ,  2 18.  *yicksbarg.  Miss.,  610, 
62S,  783.  Victor,  la.,  479.  Vienna,^ MX/., 
406,  426,  481,  552,  558,  651,  697.  Vienna, 
N.  J.,  164.  Vienna,  Va.,  376.  •Vincennes, 
!»<'•.  235.  595-  Vineland,  N.  J.,  390,  522. 
Vineyard  Haven,  Ms.,  769.  Violet  Town, 
K/c7.,  564-6.  Vitry  le  Francois,  Fr.,  480. 
Vittoria,  Oni.,  332.  Voiron,  Fr.,  698. 
Volusia,  N.  Y.,  587. 

•Wadena,  Minn.,  788.  Wadsworth, 
Nev.,  476.  •Wahpeton,  Dak.,  788.  Waiau, 
AT.  Z.,  568-9.  Waikari,  N.  Z.,  568.  Wai- 
pawa,  A^.  Z.,  569.  Wakefield,  Ms.,  112, 
575,769.  Wakefield,  N.  H.,  577-8.  Wal- 
den,  N.  Y.,  198,  776.  Walkerton,  Oni., 
315.  Walbcetown,  Ont.,  312,  314.  Wal-  * 
lam,  Vict.,  564.  WalUngford,  Ct.,  133-4, 
149,  581.  WalUngford,  Vt.,  766.  Wal- 
more,  N.  Y.,  222.  Walnut  Grove,  N.  J., 
164.  Walpole,  Ms.,  107,  113.  Waltham, 
Ms.,  29,  51,  103,  579,  769.  Walton,  Ettg., 
599.  Walton,  Ky.,  225.  Wanaque,  K.  J., 
170.  Wandsford,  Eng.,  539.  Wandsworth 
Common,  Eng.,  792.  Wanganui,  A^  Z., 
568,  570.  Wangaretta,  Vict.,  564-5.  Wan- 
non  Falls,  Vict.,  560,  563.  Wappinger*S 
Falla,  N.  Y.,  194-S,  776.  Wardsville,  Ont., 
331.  Ware,  Eng.,  541.  Ware,  Ms.,  29,  51, 
104,  110,  113-4,  117,  i8f,  579.  Warehouse 
Point,  Ct.,  580,  582,  559.  Warren,  Ms., 
104,  no,  114,  117,  181.  •Warren,  O.,  785. 
Warren,  R.  I.,  107-8,  323,  5S1,  769.    War- 


Iviii 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


THB  UNITED  STATS^ 

This  alphabetical  list  of  the  Sutea  and 
Territories  of  the  Uuion  is  given  chiefly  for 
the  sake  of  showing  their  abbreviations.  The 
geographical  order  in  which  the  States  are 
inserted  in  the  "  Directory  of  Wheelmen  " 
(765-91)  may  be  found  on  p.  734,  also  on  p. 
XX ;  and,  in  the  latter  case,  the  namber  of 
towns  and  of  subscribers  representing  each 
State  in  the  "  Directory  "  are  likewise  shown. 
On  p.  617  may  be  seen  the  League  representa- 
tion of  each  State,  June  i,  '84 ;  and  on  p. 
618  the  increase  of  the  same,  Jan.  i  and  SepL 
I,  '86.  P.  638  shows  the  League  officers  of 
State  Divisions,  Oct.  30,  '86;  and  p.  631 
shows  the  apportionment  of  States  into  "  rac- 
ing districts  of  the  A.  C.  U. "  FuU  indexes  of 
the  13  States  in  which  I  have  done  the  most 
touring  (Me.  to  Ya.  and  Ky.)  are  pointed  out 
by  the  star  (*) ;  and  the  General  Index  may  be 
consulted  for  additional  references  to  many 
of  the  oiher  States.  Numerals  bjgher  than 
764  refer  to  subscribers  to  this  book  : 

Ala.,  Alabama,  2,  352,  670,  783.  Ariz., 
Arizona,  789.  Ark.,  Arkansas,  352,  783. 
CaL,  California,  2,  473-*,  489-941  5<».  5'9i 
609,  661,  672,  789,  799.  CoL,  Colorado,  177, 
501,  788.  Ct.,  Connecticut,  •sSi,  769-70. 
Dak.,  Dakota,  177,  487,  788.  Del.,  Dela- 
ware, •5S9,  781.  D.  C,  District  of  Colum- 
bia, •590,  782.  Fla.,  Florida,  177,  352,  597, 
783.  Ql.,  Georgia,  177,  352,  500,  610,  782. 
Id.,  Idaho,  7S8.  ni.,  Illinois,  31,  224*  244» 
258,  478-^>  485-9,  5»9»  524-S.  658,  672,677, 
786-7,  799-  IncL,  Indiana,  31,  235-7,  479» 
486-8,  519,  7S5-6.  la.,  Iowa,  478-80,  486-7, 
501,  672,  787.  Kan.,  Kansas,  99,  485-6,  500, 
788.  Ky.,  Kentucky,  224-37,  *59o,  783-4. 
La.,  Louisiana,  2,  140,  500-1,  527,  595.  597, 
654.  670,  724,  783.  Me.,  Maine,  •573,  765-6. 
Md.,  Maryland,  ^5^9,  781-2.  Ms.,  Massa- 
chusetts,*s 79, 766-9.  MitdL,  Michigan,  42,  99, 
177,210,296,  311,  323,  476,  490-2,609,  660, 
7>9,  785-  Minn.,  Minnesota,  487,  519,  5^0, 
570, 787.  Miss.,  Mississippi,  352,  783.  Mo., 
Missouri,  97,  322-3,  473,  485-7,  500,  524-5, 
671-2,  787.  Mont.,  Montana,  454,  519,  788. 
Neb..  Nebraska,  478-80,  484-6,  489,  501,  570, 
788.  Nev.,  Nevada,  476-7.  N.  H.,  New 
Hampshire,  •575,  766.  N.  J.,  New  Jersey, 
•588,  776-8.  N.  Mez.,  New  Mexico,  788. 
N.  T.,  New  York,  ^582, 770-6.  N.  C,  North 
Carolina,  51,  176,  352,  500,  782.    0.,  Ohio, 


a8-3a.  39»  57f  99»  »o5f  a34»  a40|  a4a,  a45. 
479-i5o,  485,  4871  5«>»  SO«f  5t9i  594,  625,  660. 
677-8,  784-5-  Or.,  Oregon,  492,  519,  788. 
Pa.,  Pennsylvania,  ^589,  778-81.  B.  L, 
Rhode  Island,  *58i,  769.  8.  C,  South  Caro- 
lina, 54,  352,  782.  Tenn.,  Tennessee,  176, 
352,  500,  670,  672,  7S3.  Tex.,  Texas,  351, 
500,  783.  Ut.,  Utah,  477,  5»o.  7»8.  Vt., 
Yermont,  •578,  766.  Va.,  Yirgiuia,  •590, 
782.  Waeh.,  Washington  Territory,  455, 
519,  788,  W.  Va.,  West  Yiiginia,  31,  4a, 
»4*,  a45,  344,  35»f  3*4,  486-7,  500,  590,  78a. 
Wis.,   Wisconsin,   177,  258,  487,   524,  787. 

Wy.,  Wyoming,  473,  475,  477,  479*>,  489* 
570,  788. 

FORBICN  COUNTRIBS. 

References  higher  than  764  are  to  subscrib- 
ers outside  the  U.  S.,  the  numbers  of  whom 
are  also  shown  on  p.  xx.  Details  for  sev- 
eral countries  may  be  found  in  General  Index : 
Acadia,  286.  Afghanistan,  571.  Angora, 
481-2.  Asia,  480-3,  570-2,  792.  Australia, 
558-70,  652,  695-6,  706,  793-4.  Austria,  232, 
481,  558,  636-7,  792.  Bavaria,  480-1.  Bel- 
gium, 522,  546,  549,  599,  651,  699,  700.  Ber- 
muda, 353-70,  592,  790-  Brittany,  542.  Bul- 
garia, 481.  Canada,  265,  282-334,  59*,  603, 
633-7, 669-70, 677,  789-90.  Cape  Breton,  288. 
China,  312,  474-5,  477,  491,  572.  Croatia. 
481.  Denmark,  636-7.  Egypt,  453,  571. 
England,  403-6,  426,  444-50,  469-72,  S3«-5*» 
598-9, 636-5 1 ,  654, 681-95,  790-2.  France,  480, 
5«,  530,  552,  557.  599,600,628,636,651,682, 
698-9,  792.  Germany,  546,  552-3,  636-7,  651, 
697,  792.  Holland,  522,  553,  599,  636-7,  651, 
700,  792.  Hungary,  474,  481,  792.  India, 
571-2.  Ireland,  499,  546, 640,  652, 665, 682-3, 
688,  792.  Italy,  530,  549,  551-2,  599,  600, 
687,  700,  792.  Japan,  572, 792.  Khorassan, 
570.  Koordistan,  481, 483.  Manitoba,  635, 
790.  Mexico,  2,  600,  790.  New  Brunswick, 
265,  33 r,  515,  790.  New  S.Wales,  564-5, 652, 
793.  N.  Zealand,  566-9,652,  794.  Normandy, 
480,  542.  Norway,  549,  700.  Nova  Scotia, 
»82-94,  33  f,  355,  364-6,  499,  592,  790.  On- 
tario, 296-334,  598,  633^,  789.  Persia,  473, 
480-3,   570-1,  79a.    Prince  Edward   Island, 

290-2.  Quebec,  3»7-30,  574-5,  59*,  790- 
Queensland,  652,  793.  Roumelia,  474,  4S1. 
Russia,  570-T,  687,  724.  Saxony,  551-2. 
Scotland,  545,  553-8,  645^  681-6,  695,  792. 
Servia,  474,480-1.  Slavonia,  474,  481.  South 
Africa,  696.      Sooth   Australia,   560-t,  652, 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


lix 


793.  Spain,  549,  683,  700.  Styria,  481. 
Sweden,  549,  700,  792.  Switzerland,  530,  532, 
542,  549. 5S2»  599»  637,  650,  792.  Tasmania, 
559.  563-4, 652,  794.  Turkey,  481-2,  474,  571, 
7«^.  Victoria,  558-66, 652,  706, 793-4.  Wales, 
5o5*»  530,  533,  536,  539i  544,  546,  550,  790-2. 

RIVERS   AND  VALLEYS. 

Agawain,i22-3,i79,  252.  Ammonoosuc,576- 
7.  An)oor,57o.  Androscoggin,  575-6.  Arques, 
480.  Avon,  289.  Bear,  477.  Beaver,  515. 
Bigelow,  129.  Blackberry,  143.  Blacksione, 
109.  Blanche,  329.  Brandy  wine,  372,  38. 
Bronx,  74,  75.  Byram,  73.  Cassadaga,  5S7. 
Cazenovia,  214.  Charles,  106,  514.  Chestnut 
Ridge,  485.  Chicopee,  no,  117,  129.  Cole- 
brook,  144.  Conemaugh,  496.  Connecticut, 
11,32,  61,  117-28,  145,  172,  178-84,  191,  194, 
19S,  251-4,  575-82.  Comwallis,  285.  Cow- 
pasture,  486.  Croton,  76.  Cumberland,  302, 
347.  Danube,  481.  Delaware,  28,  44,  163-4, 
172-3,    189,    198,    207,    299,    302,    340,   342, 

372,  378,  390,  497,  522,  587-  East  (N-  Y.), 
64,  86,  97-8,  583.  Eden,  223.  Elk,  479. 
Elkhart,  479.  Elkhom,  478.  Farmington, 
«37,  »44-6,  581.  Fenton,29.  French,  129. 
Ganges,  572.  Gatincau,  327.  Genesee,  30, 
214-17.  German,  173.  Green,  230,  477- 
Hackensack,  82,  165-6,  168-9,  S'^-  Har- 
lem, 25,  27,  64,  66,  68,  70,  72,  91,  95-8, 
247, 5S2-4.  Hanid,  571.  Hills,  490.  Hills- 
boro,  290.  Holyoke,  135.  Hoosick,  193. 
Hop,  128.  Housatonic,  112,  138,  140,  143-4, 
147,  188,  700.  Hudson,  11,  44,  51,  64-91,  95, 
97,  M2-3,  «46,  148,  »5?,  '64-6,  179-98,  216, 
322,340,  431,  498,  500.  505,  523,  583-t.  586-7. 
Humboldt,  476-7.  Illinois,  489.  Indian,  327. 
11x11,481.  Jackson,  486.  James,  346-7.  Jock, 
327.    Juniata,  496.    Kanawha,  347.    Kansas, 

486.  Kennebec,  353,  573-4.  Kentucky,  227. 
Kowai,  568-9.  Lehigh,  299.  Ligonier,  485. 
Little,  223.  Loire,  542.  Luray,347,  35',38i. 
Magalloway,  575.  Mahoning,  342.  Mamaro- 
neck,  74.  Maritza,  481-2.  Maumee,  479. 
Medicine  Bo'jp,  478.  Merrimac,  102,  500. 
Metis,  329.  Middle (Ct.),  129.  Middletown, 
«43,  349-     Mississippi,  19S,  347-8,  473.  478-80, 

487,  489.  Missouri,  475,  47*^.  486,  4''9- 
Mnhawk,  12,  13,  32,  85,  197,  199,202.  Mo- 
n^cacy,  349.  Morava,  481.  Mt.  Hope,  129. 
Napa,  490.  Nalchaujr,  129.  Naugatuck,  139- 
42, 5*2.  Nepperhan,  75-8, 98.  N  iantic,  13 1. 
Nissiva,  481.    Ohio,  39,  245,  485,  5»5.  5QO. 


Oneida,  335.  Opequon,  347,  497.  Orange, 
271.  Oregon,  455.  Otsclic,  302,337.  Ottawa, 
327-8.  Page,  347, 351.  Passaic,  82, 159,  165, 
166,  58S.  Patap&co,  377.  Patuxent,  349. 
Pawcatuck,  129.  Peabody,  577.  Pekang,  572. 
Pemigewasset,  576.  Penobscot,  574.  Pciane, 
568.  Platte,  478,  486,  489.  Pleasant,  146. 
Pompton,  165.  Potomac,  17,  29,  51,  55,  238, 
245.  3«>,  303,  344,  347.  376,  383-4,  488,  496-7. 
Cuiuebaug,  129.  Quinnipiac,  134.  Ramapo, 
171,198,587.  Rappahannock,  379.  Rer.ch, 
4S1.  Rhine,  481,522.  Rideau,  327.  Rigaud, 
323.  Roanoke,  347.  Rock,  479.  Russian, 
4vo.  Saco,  576.  Sacondaga,  211.  Sacra- 
mento, 476,  490.  Saddle,  165,  169.  Sague- 
nay,  293.     St.  Croix,  263.    St.  Lawrence,  1S7, 

I'fi,  204,   210,   293,   301-3,    326,   329,   330,  333, 

500.  Salinas,  490.  Salmon,  145, 289.  Salt, 
237.  San  Benito,  489.  Santa  Clara,  490. 
Snugatuck,  128,  138.  Sawmill,  75-9.  ^Schroon, 
211.  Schuylkill,  299, 389-90, 522.  Seaconnet, 
loS.  Seine,  480.  Semmering,  552.  Shenan- 
doah, 46,  154,  238,  241-2,  296,  300,  303, 346-7, 
388,  486,  49  (-500.  590.  Shepaug,  143.  Still, 
12^.  Strasburg,  347.  Susquehanna,  218,  302- 
3.  308,  338,  343,  372-3,  37?,  381,  386,  49*^,  589- 
Tartijoux,  339.  Thames,  129,  131,  681. 
Trough  Creek,  244.  Truckee,  476.  Tuo- 
lumne, 491.  Virginia,  346,  382.  Wabash, 
486.  Waipara,  56S-9.  Wallkill.  198.  Wells, 
489,  576.  White,  578.  Willimanlic,  129. 
Winooski,  578.  Wissahickon,  389.  Wyo- 
ming, 220.    Yoscmite,  491. 

MOUNTAIN    PEAKS. 

Ararat,  482.  Bald,  575.  Bald  Eagle,  496. 
Battle  (Nev.),  476.  Big  Sewell,  486.  Black, 
186.  Blanc,  354.  Blue  (Pa.),  498.  Buck, 
498.  Carmel,  134-5,  4S6,  5S1.  Catoctin,  349. 
Cone,  485.  Dogwood,  486.  Elk,  478.  Ever- 
green, 148.  Gambier,  560.  Green  (Me.), 
278.  Hamilton  (Cal),  490.  Hedgehog  (Ct.)> 
145.  Holyoke  (Ms.),  120,  135.  Hortnn  (N. 
S.),  286.  Jefferson,  382.  Jenny  Jump,  164. 
Kineo,  574.  Kaaterskill,  498.  Langton 
(Ber ),  359-62.  Little  North,  497.  Liitle 
Sewell,  486.  McGregor,  192.  Mansfield 
(Vt.),  578-9.  Marcy,  186.  Nescopeck,  498. 
North  (N.,  S.),  284-5.  Orange,  158,  174. 
Otter  (Peaks  of),  347.  P  catinny,  170.  Pitts- 
field,  197.  Plymouth,  142.  Pulaski,  485. 
Razorback,  565-6.  Rnmmerfield,  219.  San 
Juan,  494.     St.  Gothard,    187.     St.  Helena 


Ix 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


(Cal.),49o.  Sargent  (Me.),  278.  Shenandoah, 
58a.  Schooley's,  173.  Simplon,  187.  South, 
349.  Storm  King,  197.  Sugarloaf,  182.  Tom 
(Ms.),  118-20,127,183,252,579.  Vesuvius, 
552.  Washington,  237,  515,  5aS»  575-7i  67o-«- 
Wilcox,  145. 

MOUNTAIN  RANGES. 

Adirondack,  185-7,  a lo-x  1 ,  587.    Alleghany, 

a43.  a45i  347.  35o.  477i  485-6,  496,  500.  5«8. 
Apeonine,  551.  Balkan,  481.  Black  Hills, 
478.  Blue  Creek,  477.  Blue  Ridge,  238,  243, 
346-8,  374,  379-*'.  495-7.  5«>-  Catskill,  187-8, 
198,  216,  488,  497-  Elhurz,  571.  Erz,  552. 
Fruskagora,  481.  Green,  184,  198,  574-8. 
Hartz,  114,  522.  Himalaya,  477.  North 
(N.  S.),  284-5.  Laurentian,  327.  Little 
Savage,  244.  Massanutten,  347-8,  35o-'» 
381-2.  Mud  Creek,  486.  North  (N.  S.),  284-5- 
Orange,  158,  174.  Pilot,  576.  Promontory, 
477.  PjTcnees,  549.  Red  Dome,  477.  Rocky, 
455,  478,  481.  Sierra  Nevada,  243,  476,  492- 
South  CN.  S.),  284.  Taghconic,  147.  Wa- 
chung,  174.  Wahsatch,  477.  White,  61,  192, 
«98,  893.  503.  5*3.  576-8,  676. 

HILLS. 

Albanian,  552.  Alconbury,  540.  Alum 
Rock,  490.  Amss*s,  124.  Armory,  117.  Barn- 
door, 145.  Barryfield,  325.  Batesford,  559. 
Bear  Ridge,  139.  Belmont,  389.  Bengal, 
572.  Bergen,  82-4,  166,  16S,  588.  Berkshire, 
121,  126,  581,  584,  700.  Blue,  109,  516,  577. 
Box,  567.  "Breakneck"  (N.  V.),  71,  5S2. 
Cave,  236.  Chaplain,  228.  Chestnut,  102, 106, 
III,  114,  128,523.  Chicopee,  124.  Columbia 
Heights,  88, 97.  Corey,  525.  Corydon,  235. 
Crescent,  124.  Cumberbnd,  109.  Druid, 
239.  Eagle  Rock,  175.  East  Rock,  135. 
Edgewatsr,  165-6.  Ewingsville,  118,  126. 
Fisher's,  345-6,  498.  Foundry,  142.  Fox, 
170.  Gallows,  81.  Gates's,  118-9,  1S3,  579. 
Gibbs,  361.  Glacier,  491.  Grimes's,  158. 
Hampstead,  403.  Hanging,  250,  Hog-pen 
Ridge,  139.  Hotham,  562.  Indian  Rock, 
3S9.  Knapton,  360.  Laurel,  485.  Marl- 
boro, 567.  Mono,  316.  Moore's,  327.  Mull- 
ica,  390.  Old  Ford,  389.  Orange,  169.  Pali- 
sades, 77,  79,81,  5S6-7.  Panama  Rocks  (N. 
v.),  587.  Pine,  121.  Pleasant,  226.  Pros- 
pect, 362.  Ray's,  485.  Red,  237.  Remataka, 
568.  Richmond,  3 16.  Rideau,  327.  River- 
dale,  78,  80,  583.     Rocky,  xoa.    Round,  285, 


496-7.  Sandy,  58-9,  189,  192.  Seebach,  317. 
Shinnecock,  155.  Shrewsbury,  514.  Sidling, 
243.  Snake,  169.  Turkey,  123,  146.  Wash- 
ington Heights,  64,  72,  75,  388,  583,  West, 
540.     Windsor,  122. 

ISLANDS. 

Antigua,  592.  Atlantic,  355.  Barbadoea, 
592.  Bermuda,  353-70,  530.  BIackwell*s,  69, 
70,  90,  469.  Brady,  478.  Campobsllo,  260, 
265,  269.  Cape  Breton,  289,  290,  331,  366. 
Capri,  552.  Coney,  27,  47,  8;,  155,  523,  583-5. 
Dominica,  592.  Glen,  91.  Grand,  47S,  489. 
Grand  Manan,  26S-9.  Hebrides,  467.  Ire- 
land (Ber.),  355,  358.  League,  244.  Long 
(N.  Y.),  12,  28,  29,  5 1,  58, 63-4, 88,  90, 97, 99, 
148,  150-9,  177-8,  281,  530.  Long  (N.  S.), 
286.  Magdelene,  331.  Mt.  Desert,  5,  574. 
Manhattan,  52,  64,  69,  70,  72,  84,  116,  154, 
158,  168,  187,  427.  Martiniqu2,  572.  Moi>- 
treal,  575.  Newfoundland,  170,  293,  366. 
Parent,  328.  Perrot,  575.  Prince  Edward, 
289-92,  331,  592.  Rhod^  (R.  1.),  108.  Sl 
George's,  355.  St.  Helena,  355.  St.  Kilts, 
592.  St.  Lucia,  5)2.  Sandwich,  492.  Sochia, 
552.    Somers,  364.    Staten,  28, 30.  57, 64,  84, 

88,  97.  99.  «5o,  »55-9,  i77-S,  377.  583-  Thou- 
sand, 333.  Trinidad,  5^2.  West  Indies,  355. 
Wight,  517.    Willow,  478.    Wolf,  333. 

LAKES  AND  PONDS. 

Androscoggin,  575.  Bantam,  142-3.  Bloody, 
185.  Blue,  490.  Bond^  316.  Bras  d'Or, 
289.  Cayuga,  212.  Champlain,  32,  185-6, 
211,  500,  578-9.  Chautauqua,  206,  223,  488, 
587.  Clear,  490.  Conesus,  216.  Croton,  194. 
Crystal,  170.  Deschene,  327.  Eagle,  278, 
281.  Echo,  170.  Erie,  39,  171,  203-6,  225, 
310,  331-2,  588,  596.  Garland,  283.  George, 
".  29,  32,  51,  57,  171,  179-98,  211,  578. 
Governor's,  288.  Great  Salt,  477.  Green- 
wood, 170,  5S4.  Hemlock,  216.  Huron,  204, 
3o».  3»3,  3»5.  33»-  Laudardale,  193.  Ma- 
hopac,  582.  Mashapaug,  129.  Merophre- 
magog,  19S.  Michigan,  479,  Mirror,  491. 
Mohonk,  19S.  Moosehcad,  574-5.  Napa, 
491.  Ontario,  204,  214,  222,  301,  310,  314, 
320,  333,  593.  Otsego,  197.  Piseco,  an. 
Pleasant,  211,  378.  Quinsigamond,  110. 
Rocky  Hill,  120.  Rogers,  131.  Round,  378. 
St.  Clair,  301,  311.  Saltonstall,  133.  Sara- 
toga, 192.  Schroon,2ii.  Seneca,  212.  Sil- 
ver, 155,  216,  22a.     Simcoe,  316.     Southwick. 


INDEX  OF  PL  A  CES. 


Ixi 


taS*  Saperior,  331.  Thousand  Islands,  333. 
Tueacheti,  327.  Twin,  147.  Two  Mountains, 
ZtZ,  Whitney,  135,  148,  249.  Winnipiseo- 
«ee.  a93,  576. 

CKBEKS  AND  BROOKS. 

AnlieUm,  347,  3S4.  Block,  12  i-a.  Bloody 
Ron,  185.  Buffalo,  222.  Bull  Run,  375. 
Cattaraugus,  204.  Cub  Run,  374-5.  Elk, 
236.  Furnace,  129.  Harrod's,  236.  Kiwaka, 
56S.  Mill,  121.  Newton,  91.  North,  211. 
Orerpecky  165.  Plum,  237.  Pole,  478. 
Queen's,  327.  Roaring,  129.  Rondout,  198. 
Spnyten  Duyvil,  64, 71-2,  78-So,  583.  Smith's, 
49a  Sunswick,  90.  West  Canada,  aia  Yel- 
low, 477. 

WATERPALI.S. 

Bridal  Veil,  491.  Chaudi&re,  337.  Cltftoo 
m-  J-)»  170-  Franklin,  577.  Genesee,  214, 
216.  Guildhall,  577.  Great  Falls  of  Poto> 
<n3C,  376,  497.  Haines,  216.  Hemlock,  509. 
Honeshoe  (Niagara),  202.  Kaaterskill,  ai6c 
Kesah  (Me.),  577.  Montmorend,  33a 
Moxey,  574.  Nevada,  491.  Niagara,  28, 202, 
314-16,  293,  3S2,  48S,  586.  Paterson,  167. 
PoQtook,  576.  Portage,  214.  Sciota,  341. 
Seneca,  30S,  212.  Trenton,  210,  313,  334-6. 
Vernal,  491.  Wannon,  560,  563.  Wappin- 
£61*8,  194-5.    Vossmite,  491. 

BAYS  AND  OTHBR   DIVISIONS  OF  WATBR. 

Adriatic  Sea,  552.  Atlantic  Ocean,  48, 
64,  176,  405,  467,  473,  573.  Ahxandria  Bay, 
S09.  Basin  of  Minas,  2S6-9.  Bedford  Basin, 
287-8.  Bic  Bay,  329.  Bosporus,  482.  Bos- 
ton Harbor,  113,  282.  Onso,  Strait  of, 
389.  Caspian  Sea,  571.  Chedabucto,  289. 
(Chesapeake,  352,  377.  Cold  Spring  Harbor 
(L.  I.),  150.  Fresh  Kills  (S.  I.),  157.  Fundy, 
369,  384.  Georgian,  315-1&  (}owanus,  88. 
Glassy,  35S,  363,  365.  Great  South  (L.  I.), 
15$.  Gulf  Stream,  364-5.  Hamilton  Harbor, 
3S&  Harrington  Sound,  3S9-6a  Hell  Gate, 
90,  98.  Katskill  (Lake  George),  186.  Kill 
▼an  KuII,  84,  155.  Long  Island  Sound,  61, 
64,  74,  85,  90,  96,  128-9,  143,  349.  Mahone, 
s88,  393.  Mediterranean  Sea,  593.  Morris 
Cove,  133.  Mt.  Hope,  loS.  The  Narrows, 
64,  158.  Newark,  84,  155,  583.  New  York, 
^>  ^t  '55-  Northwest  Arm,  387.  North 
West  Bay  (Lake  George),  186.  Owen  Sound, 
315-16.  Pacific  Ocean,  48, 473,  493,  570, 573. 
Paleocrystic  Sea,  33.    Passamaquoddy,  368. 


Pelham,  73,  96,  249.  Providence,  toS.  Sag 
Harbor  (L.  I.),  155.  St.  Lawrence  Gulf,  593. 
Sanbornton,  577.  St.  Margaret's,  288.  St, 
Mary's,  284.  Somes  Sound,  377, 381.  Staten 
Island  Sound,  155.  Tappan  Sea,  80.  Tra- 
cadie  Harbor,  291.  * 

PARKS  AND  SQUARES. 

Battery,  N.  Y.,  98-9,  433,  583.  Bidwell, 
Buffalo,  203.  Blue  Grass,  Ky.,  324.  Boston 
Common,  105-6.  Bowling  Green,  N.  Y.,433. 
Bronx,  N.  Y.,  95-6.  Brooklyn  City,  88-9. 
Central,  N.  Y.,  64-8,  70,  85,  02-6,  98,  100, 
187,  197^,  376,  403,  432,  451,  453,  465, 
685.  Chestnut  Hiil  Reservoir,  Boston,  102, 
106,  III,  114,  128,  523.  Chicago,  224.  City 
Hall,  N.  Y.,  86,  100.  Claremont,  N.  Y., 
96.  Copley  Sq.  (called  "Trinity"),  Boston, 
37,  X06.  Crotona,  N.  Y.,  96.  Druid  Hill, 
Bait.,  338,  781.  East  Rock,  New  Haven, 
135-6.  Edgewater,  N.  Y.,  96.  Fairmount, 
Phila.,  389,  679.  Fleetwood,  N.  Y.,  73. 
Front,  Bufifalo,  5S8.  Gilmour's,  337.  Hamp- 
den, Springfield,  117,  579-80.  Harvard  Sq., 
101,  loj.  International,  Ni,igara,  199,  586W 
Jerome,  N.  Y.,  71-3,  75,  138,  583.  Lincoln, 
Buffalo,  203.  Llewellyn,  N.  J.,  160-1,  175. 
Manhattan  Sq.,  N.  Y.,  95.  Mary's,  N.  Y., 
96.  Morningside,  N.  Y.,  70,95.  Mt.  Morris, 
64.  Pelham  Bay,  N.  Y.,  96.  Pemberton 
Sq.,  Boston,  104-5,  "o,  128,  662.  Pleasure 
Ridge,  337.  Pt.  Pleasant,  2S7.  Prospect, 
Brooklyn,  37,  87-9,  92,  94,  97,  583,  585-6. 
Public  Garden  of  Boston,  105-6,  114.  Public 
Gardens  of  Hahfax,  3S7.  Riverside,  N.  Y., 
68,  94,  585.  Rowley  Green,  102.  Van  Cort- 
landt,  N.  Y.,  95-6.  Washington  Athletic, 
573.  Washington  Square,  N.  Y.,  16,  23-6, 
a8,  33,  51-2,  54,  64-6,  82,91,  98,  101,  x68, 
191,  207,  368,  388,  391,  4*8-31,  432-4,  45ii 
453.  45St  464-6,  470.  583-6,  611,  774.  Wash- 
ington  Square,  Phila.,  494,  497.  Westfield 
Green,  N.  Y.,  206.  West  Springfield  Com- 
mon, 12a  Woodward's  Garden,  San  Fran- 
cisco, 493. 

RAILROADS  (See  pp.  591-8). 

Baltimore  &  Ohio,  338,  343,  245,  35a 
Boston  &  Albany,  26,  128,  479.  Buffalo, 
N.  Y.  &  P.,  222.  Chesapeake  &  Ohio,  350-1. 
Chicago,  Burlington  &  Quincy,  486.  Con- 
cord, 500.  Conn.  River,  127,  193.  (^nadian 
Pacific,  328.   D.,  L.  &  W.,  83,  588.  Erie,  83, 


Izii 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


85f  «6s,  198,  216-18,  222-3,  304-5.  Fall  River 
&  Newport,  19S.  Grand  Trunk,  328.  Hud- 
son River,  190,  192,  195,  19S.  Intercolonial, 
2S5,  329.  Lehigh  Valley,  219,  221.  Long 
Island,  154.  Missouri  Pacific,  486.  N.  J. 
Central,  82,  85.*  New  London  Northern, 
X29.  N.  Y.  Central,  192,  19S,  201,  209.  N. 
v.,  P.  &  O.,  222.  New  Zealand,  569-70. 
Pacific,  475-  P-  D.  &  E.  (111.),  486.  Penn- 
sylvania, 82,  389,  5S8.  Prince  Edward  Is- 
land, 291-2.  Richmond  &  Alleghany,  350. 
Union  Pacific,  473.  Valley  Branch  of  B.  & 
O.,  350.  Vermont  Central,  184.  Wabash, 
486.    NVcst  Shore,  83-4,  168,  589. 

COLLAGBS. 

Acadia,  285.  Amherst,  113, 142.  Bowdoin, 
565.  Butler  Univ.,  786.  Cambridge  Univ., 
429,  434.  544.  544,  557,  79>.  "  Chrysalis," 
428-9.  Columbia,  (131),  216,  436.7.  Cornell 
Univ.,  772.  Dartmouth,  50S,  766.  Dickinson, 
344,  512.  Drew  Theol.  Sem.,  344.  Eton, 
533.  Georgetown,  233.  Glasgow  Univ.,  545. 
Haileybury,    544.     Harvard,   25,     101,    103, 

»»3.  «3«,  256,  386,  397,  403,  434-5.  437,494, 
514,  658,  665,  767.  Haverford,  25,  389,  503, 
779.  Iowa,  323,  669.  Kentucky  Wesleyan 
Univ.,  233.  Kenyon,  784.  King*s  (Cam.), 
429,  434.  King's  (N.  S.),  286.  Knox,  658. 
Lafayette,  173,  669.  Lehigh  Univ.,  780. 
Maine  Agricultural,  257,  277.  Middlebury, 
196.  New  York,  436.  New  York  Univ., 
428-44,  454-7*-  Oxford  Univ.,  469,  471,  533. 
Pennsylvania  Univ.,    388,    494.     Princeton, 

434,  777'  Rutgers,  159.  Swarthmore,  508. 
Toronto  Univ.,  318.  Trinity  (Cam.),  544. 
Trinity  (Hartford),  136.     Virginia  Univ.,  350, 

435.  West  Point,  194.  Williams,  185.  Yale, 
"3.  "7,  131-3,  140,  256,  304,  890-405,434, 
434-5,  439.  447.  464-6,  494,  657,  660,  711, 
722.3,  728,  732,  770. 

PUBLIC  BUILDINGS. 

Agricultural  Hall,  London,  547-8.  Alex- 
andra Palace,  London,  535.  Alnwick  Castle, 
390,  404.  Alumni  Hall,  Yale,  39S-9.  Ar- 
mory, Springfield,  T14,  124-5,  S^o.  Arsenal, 
N.  Y.,  95.  Benedick,  N.  Y.,  65,  440.  Bicy- 
cle Club  Houses  :  Baltimore,  590,  7S1 ;  Bos- 
ton, 105-6,  767;  Brooklyn,  97,  586;  New 
York,  96,  586 ',  Philadelphia,  589 ;  St.  Louis, 
652 ;  Washington,  590.  Boston  Cydorama, 
385.    Capitol,  Albany,  19a.    Capitol,  Wash- 


ington,   371-2,  501.     Centennial   Buildings, 
Phila.,  389.     Cheshire  Academy,  Ct.,   134, 
250.    "Chrysalis  College,*'  428-9.     Citadel, 
Halifax,  287,  292.    City  Halls :    Boston,  105 ; 
Brooklyn,  88;  Buffalo,  52  ;  New  Haven,  133  ; 
New  York,  48,  78,  82,  85,  88,  99,  100,  499; 
Philadelphia,   389;    Springfield,    117,     120, 
124.5  \  Yonkers,  78.    Cosmian  Hall,  Florence, 
Ms.,   119.    Court    Houses:     Boston,     105; 
Brooklyn,  90;  New  York,  48.    Crystal  Pal- 
ace, London,  405.    Custom  Houses :  Boston, 
X05  ;  New  York,  369.     Elm  City  Rink,  401. 
Equitable    Building,    N.     Y.,    99.     Fancuil 
Hall,  Boston,  105.     Grace  Church,  N.Y.,  66. 
Grand    Central    Depot    N.    Y.,  99.    Grey- 
stone,  N.  Y.,  79-80.     Insane  Asylum,  Balti- 
more, 377.     Institute  of  Technology,  Boston, 
106,  5S2.     Kentucky  Stale  House,  233.    Lick 
Observatory,  Cal.,  490.     Litchfield  Mansion, 
N.  Y.,   585.     Ludlow  St.   Jail,  N.   Y.,   86. 
Lyndehurst,  N.  Y.,  79-80.      Manor  House, 
Yonkers,   78.     Massachusetts  State   House, 
104,    113,   1x6.     Mechanics'   Pavilion,  Port- 
land, Or.,  492.     Memorial    Hall,  Dedham, 
Ms.,    107.     Metropolitan  Methodist  Church, 
Toronto,  318.    Monastery,   N.   J.,  83,  589. 
Morgan  School,  (Jlinton,  Ct.,  134.     Mt.  HoU 
yoke   Female    Seminary,    120.     Museum  off 
Fine  Arts,   Boston,  106.    Music  Hail,  New 
Haven,  398,  400.     Nassau  Hall,  Princeton, 
N.   J.,  434.     Nat.   Hist.    Museum,  Boston, 
106.     Naval   Hospital,   N.   Y.,  88.    Oraton 
Hall,   Newark,   N.    J.,   83,    170,   174,   589. 
Penn.     Military    Academy,     Chester,    372. 
Phillips  Academy  at    Andover,    20S.     Post 
Offices  :    Boston,  105  ;  Cleveland,  500 ;  New 
York,  48;     Paris,    458.     Potlslown    Opera 
House,   484.     Rosalie    Villa,   Chicago,    529. 
Royal  Courts  Chambers,  London,  550.  "Rub- 
bish Palace,'*  428-9.     St.  Botolph's  Comer, 
102.     St.    Croix     Hall,  Calais,     Me.,   265. 
Shenandoah   Academy,  Va.,   345.     Soldiers* 
Home,  D.  C,  376.     Springfield  City  Library, 
126.    State  Fishery,  N.  Y.,  222.     State  Hos- 
pital, Worcester,  Ms.,  no.     Stewart's  Cathe- 
dral, Garden  City,  L.  I.,  152.    Sunnyside,  N. 
Y.,  79.    Trinity  Church,  Boston,  106.  Triniiy 
Church,  N.  Y.,  87,  99,  437.    Tuileries,  Paris, 
390.     University  Building,  N.  Y.,  65,  42S-44, 
454-72.     Union  Depot,  Worcester,  Ms.,  514. 
U.  S.  Armory,  Springfield,  Ms.,   114,   124-5. 
Villa  of  D.  O.  Mills,  Millbrae,  Cal..  492. 
Williamsburg  Savings  Bank,  Brooklyn,  9a. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


Ixiii 


GBOGRAPHXCAL  HISCBLLANY. 

Adirondack  Wilderness,  186-7, 587.  Adrian- 
ople  Plains,  Tur.,  482.  Black  Forest,  Ger., 
481.  Blue  Grass  Region  of  Ky.,  224-7, 
232-3.  Brooklyn  Bridge,  36-9.  Brooklyn 
Navy  Yard,  88,  246.  Cape  May,  593.  Cat 
Hole  Pass,  Ct.,  137.  Crawford's  Cave, 
Ky.,  22S.  Croton  Reservoir,  N.  Y.,  70, 
95.  Desert  of  Despair,  571.  Devil's  Hole, 
Bermuda,  36a  Flume,  N.  H.,  61,  576. 
Ycmsi  of  Dean,  540,  (198).  Forks  of  the 
Kennebec,  Me.,  573-4.  Forty  Mile  Bush, 
N.  Z.,  568.  Forty  Mile  Desert  of  Nevada, 
476.  Furca  Pass,  532.  Great  American 
Desert,  477.  Great  Plains  of  Utah,  475. 
Hanging  Rocks  of  Newport,  108.  High 
Bridge  on  the  Harlem,  70-72,  583.  Holborn 
Viaduct,  554.  Hoosac  Tunnel,  Ms.,  191, 
194,  488.  Horse  Shoe  Curve,  496.  Hudson 
River  Tunnel,  433.  Kittery  Navy  Yard,  101, 
246.  Laramie  Plains,  478.  Lewistown  Nar- 
rows, Pa.,  496.  Luray  Cavern,  Va.,  348, 
381-2.  Mammoth  Cave,  231-2,  381-2.  Man- 
awatu  Gorge,  N.  Z.,  568.  Meeling  Pass, 
572.  Middlesex  Notch,  Vt.,  578.  Milldam, 
Boston,  106.  Norambega,  279.  Northern 
Maine  Wilderness,  S7S'  Obelisk  of  Alex- 
andria, 465.  Ottaw^a  Long  Soult  Rapids, 
328.  Ovens,  Mt.  Desert,  279.  Ox  Bow  of 
the  Conn.,  izo.  Pack  Saddle  of  the  Cone- 
maugh,  496.  Paulus  Hook,  N.  J.,  16S. 
Red  Desert  of  Wyoming,  477.  Royal  Dock- 
yard at  Bermuda,  358.  Shades  of  Death, 
Va.,  243.  Stony  Rises,  561.  Streatham, 
Plains,  561.  Weka  Pass,  568-9.  West  Shore 
Tunnel,  589.  Weyer's  Cave,  Va.,  382.  Will- 
iams Monument  at  Lake  George,  185. 

CYCLING  CLUBS. 

^Subscribers  to  book  are  marked  thus  (*). 

Adrian,  785.  ^olus,  769,  777.  Akron, 
784.  Albany,  679,  770.  Albert,  793.  Alle- 
ghany Co.,  77a.  Allston,  766.  Alpha,  778. 
Amateur,  792.  Amherst  Coll.,  113.  Anfield, 
553.  557-*-  Ann  Arbor,  785.  Ararat,  561. 
•Ariel,  775,  789.  Atalanta,  777.  Auburn,  785. 
Auckland,  794.  Augusta,  783.  Avondale,  784. 
Ballarar,  561,  793.  •Baltimore,  781.  Bay 
Oly,  789.  %tavia,  770.  Bath,  544.  Beaver 
Valley,  515,  778.  •Bedford,  97,  5%,  770, 
775.  Belleville,  325,  793.  Belsixe,  sii-^iijll 
2, 791.  Berkshire  Co.,  768.  Bl 
218,  308,  77a    BirmingliaiD,  783. 


790.  Bloomington,  786.  Bordelais,  562. 
Boscobel,  768.  Boston,  25,  105-6,  lov^,  504-5, 
514,  5'6-i8,  523,  525.6,  615,  656,  679,  766, 
793.  Brighton,  784.  Brisbane,  793.  Brix- 
ton, 554.  Bromley,  554.  Brooklyn.  97,  586, 
770,  775.  Brunswick,  777.  Buckeye,  784. 
Buffalo,  771.  Calais,  765.  California,  789. 
Cambridge  Univ.,  544,  791.  Camden,  776. 
Canandaigua,    772.      Canonbury,    542,    554, 

791.  Canton,  778,  784.  Cape  Town,  694. 
Capitol,  348,  376,  515,  590,  652,  782.  Carl- 
ton, 561-2,  Carmi,  786.  Cazenovia,  336, 
772,  Centaur,  543,  789.  Chamber&burj;,  778. 
Champion  City,  245,  785.  Charlestown,  767. 
Charlotte,  782.  Chatham,  772.  Chelsea,  679, 
767.  Chemeketa,  788.  Cheshire,  769.  Chey- 
enne, 788.  Chicago,  225,  296,  320,  519,  529, 
573 »  679,  786,  Christchurch,  567,  652,  794. 
Cincinnati,  224,  784.  *Citizens,  96-7,  523, 
586, 612,  773.  City,  563,  767.  Clarence,  544. 
Clarion,  778.  Clearfield,  778.  Cleveland, 
326,  660,  784.  Cohoes,  772.  Coldwater,  785. 
College  Hill,  784.  Colorado,  788.  Colum- 
bia, 776,  778,  78a.  Columbus,  782.  Connect- 
icut, 769.  Cornell  Univ.,  772.  Cornetia,  770. 
Corning,  772.  •Cortlandt,  775.  Coventry, 
790.  Crescent,  783.  Dakota,  788.  Dr.n- 
bury,  769.  Dayton,  784.  Delaware,  775. 
Derby,  769.  Detroit,  311,  322,  505,  785. 
Dorchester,  527.  Druid,  781.  Dunkirk,  772. 
Eaglehawk-Unitcd,  793.  East  S«iginaw, 
785.  El.:;in,  786.  Elizabeth,  164,  660,  776. 
Elmira,  772.  Elyria,  784.  Emporia,  788. 
Essex,  164,  777.  Eureka,  793.  Eurota,  787. 
Facile,  156.  Fall  River,  767.  Falls  City,  783. 
Faribault,  787.  Fitchburg,  767.  Florence, 
767.  Forest,  789.  Ft.  Schuyler,  776.  Ft. 
Wayne,  786.  Fostoria,  784.  Frisco,  787. 
Galveston,  783.  Garden  City,  493,  789.  Ger- 
mantown,  779.  Glen,  776.  Goderich,  789. 
Golden  City,  789.  Greenfield,  767.  Green- 
wich, 772.  Hackensack,  776.  Hagarstown, 
782.  Hamilton,  789,  793.  Harlem,  96,  586, 
JT*i  TJ^'  Harrisburg,  779.  Haverford  Coll., 
779.  Haverhill,  767.  Haverstock,  53S-41, 
79t.  Heights,  97,  770.  Helena,  788.  Hen- 
derson, 783.  Hermes,  529.  Hobart,  563, 
Holyoke,  767.  •Hudson,  772,  Hudson  Co., 
776.  Huntingdon,  779.  Indiana,  785.    Indian- 

■  '**    '""%,     Indianola,   787.      •Ixion,  96-7, 

-A,  586,  667,  774.     Jackson,   785. 

Junior,  377, 781.  Kankakee, 

~^»    KennclMB  Co.|  765. 


Ixiv 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Kent,  79a  Kenton,  783.  Kentucky,  783. 
KcTStone,  780.  •King's  Co.,  97,  586,  770. 
Kingiston,  789.  Kiswaukee,  7S6.  La  Crosse, 
787.  La  Fayette,  781,  786.  Lafayette  CoU., 
173,  669U  Lancaster,  779.  Laramie,  78S. 
Lawrence,  514, 660, 768.  78S.  Lehigh  Univ., 
780.  Leroy,  772.  Lezing;ton,  783.  Liverpool 
Cyde  Buglers',  791.  Lombard,  694.  Lon- 
<Jon,  533,  5*1.  5*3, 791.  London  Scottish,  553. 
\jaaf,  Island,  97,  586,  771.  Louisville,  527, 
783.  Lowell,  517, 768.  Macon,  782.  Madison 
Co.,  787.  Maiden,  76S.  Manchester,  500, 
766.  Manhattan,  187.  Mansfield,  779.  Mar- 
faiehead,  76S.  Marmion,  563,  794.  Mary- 
land, 590,  652,  7S1.  'Massachusetts,  105-6, 
113,  258,  279.  504,  soS,  512,  5»7»679.  767*  774« 
Massillon,  7S5.  Mauch  Chunk,  779^  Me- 
dina Co.,  7S5.  Melbourne,  558-9,  561-3,  706, 
793.  Memphb,  783.  Mercury,  772,  7^5,  7S7. 
Merid^n,  12S,  138,  769.  Merrimac,  768. 
Metropolitan  of  Iowa,  787.  Middlesex,  554, 
567.  Middletown,  769,  772.  *MiIford,  768. 
Miilbury,  76S.  MiUville,  777.  Milwaukee, 
$■9,767-  Missouri,  78 7.  Monmouth  Co.,  778. 
Montc!air,  777.  Montgomery,  783.  Montreal, 
330, 504, 790.  'Montrose,  779.  Morris,  776-7. 
Mountain,  779.  Nadonel,  790.  Nashua, 
508, 766.  Nashville,  783.  New  Britain,  770. 
Newbnrg,  772.  New  Haven,  660, 770.  New 
Jersey,  777-8.  New  London  Co.,  770.  New 
Orleans,  500,  7S3.  'New  York,  24,  96,  504, 
586-7,  772-3.  Niagara  Falls,  775.  Nobles- 
▼ille,  786.  Nonantum,  768.  Normamby, 
793.  Norristown,  779.  North  Adelaide,  793. 
Northampton,  127,  76S.  North  London,  534, 
543,  791.  North  Otago,  794.  North  Road, 
557.  Oakland,  492,  789.  Old  Dominion,  782. 
Olean,  775.  Omaha,  78S.  Orange,  509,  530, 
7»5»  76S,  776-7.  Oregon,  788.  Oskaloosa, 
787.  Oswego,  775.  Ottawa,  327,  330,  789. 
Ottumwa,  787.  •Ovid,  660,  785.  Owl,  529, 
776.  Oxford  Univ.,  56S.  Pahquioque,  769. 
Park  City,  7S3.  Passaic  Co.,  778.  Paw- 
tucket,  769.  Penn  City,  500.  'Pennsylva^ 
nia,  589, 652,  780.  Peoria,  783, 787.  Pequon- 
nock,  769.  Perth  Amboy,  777.  'Philadel- 
phia, 589,  652,  779.     Pickwick,  567.     Pilot, 

793.  Pine  Tree,  765.      Pioneer,  567,   569, 

794.  Port  Elgin,  315,  789.  Portland,  259, 
S75t  7^-  Portsmouth,  785.  Pottstown,  484, 
780.  Preston,  566.  Princeton,  787.  Prince- 
ton Coll.,  777.  'Providence,  769.  Ramblers, 
7*7.  789.  793-    Randolph,  215,  775-    Read- 


ing, 780.  Redfem,  565.  Rhode  Island,  tai. 
Rochester,  775.  Rockfc»d,  787.  Rocking- 
ham, 766.  Rockville,  770.  Rome,  201,  700, 
776.    Roselle,  778.    Rovera,  784.    Rush  Co., 

786.  'Rutland,  766.  St.  Caiberiue,  326. 
St.  Cloud,  787.  St.  John,  790.  St.  Louis, 
4S7,  785.    Sl  Louis  Star,  7S7.    St.  M^iry's, 

789.  Sl  Thomas,  314,  789.  'Salem,  768. 
Salt  Lake,  788.  Sandhurst,  562.  San  Fran- 
cisco, 489, 789.  Saratoga,  776.  Schenectady, 
776.  'Scranton,  340,  780.  Seaside,  782. 
Sefton  and  Dingle,  791.  Simcoe,  789.  Sit- 
tingboume,   792.     Somerville,   768.     Sparta, 

787.  'Springfield,  1 14-15,  M9.  182,254,  508. 
5*4,  547,  661,  768,  793,  799.  SUmford,  770. 
Star,  3x5,  351,  766,  768,  782.  Stoncham, 
769.  Surrey,  543,  547,  564-  Susquehanna, 
7S0.  Swallows,  791.  Sydney,  564,  793.  S>Ta- 
cuse,  776.  Tasmanian,  563.  Taunton,  769. 
Temple,  547.  Terre  Haute,  786.  Thorn- 
dike,  766.  Titusvilie,  781.  Toledo,  785.  To- 
ronto, 3 19-20, 789.  Tremon  t ,  5 1 7 ,  767.  Tren- 
ton, 778.    Troy,  776.    Trumbull,  7S5.    Truro, 

790.  Turin,  700.  Tuskegee,  783.  Unadilla, 
772.  Valley,  785.  Valley  City,  785.  Ver- 
mont, 766.  Vernon,  772,  785.  Victor,  779, 
783.  Victoria,  560.  Waitemata,  794.  Wake- 
field, 769.  Walden,  776.  Wanderers,  789. 
Wappingera,  776.  Warmarobool,  559,  794. 
Washington,  374,  782.  Waterbury,  770. 
•Weedsport,  776.  Wellington,  794.  Wells- 
boro,  7S1.  Wesiboro,  769.  Westminster,  782. 
West  Point,  783.  Weymouth,  769.  Wheel- 
ing, 782.  Whiriing,  781.  Wilkesbarre,  781. 
Williamsport,  781.  Wilmington,  782.  Winni- 
peg, 790.  Winona,  787.  'Wood  River,  788. 
Woodstock,  789.  Woodstown,  778.  Wor- 
cester, 769.  Woronoco,  769.  Xenia,  785. 
Vale,  660,  770.  IToungstown,  785.  Zanes- 
ville,  785. 

CEMETERIES. 

Greenfield,  L.  I.,  152.  Greenwood,  L.  I., 
90,  469.  Machpelah,  N.  J.,  84,  589.  Ml 
Auburn,  Ms.,  103.  National,  Pa.,  384-5. 
Pine  Hill,  Ms.,  120.  Sleepy  Hollow,  N.  Y., 
76.  Woodlands,  Pa.,  390.  Woodlawu,  N.Y.. 
71,  138,  583. 

CANALS. 

Chesapeake  &  Ohio,  12,  29,  32,  39,  51,239- 
245.  Conn.  River,  iSo.  Delaware  &  Hud- 
son, 44,  189,  340.  Erie,  8,  28,  32,  57,  197- 
208,  216-17,  48S.  Juniata,  496.  Morris,  173, 
207.    Raritan,  167, 172.   Susquehanna,  377-3. 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixv 


Thb  foDowing  list  is  designed  to  give  the  family  name  of  every  person  mentioned  in  this 
book,  and  also  of  many  who  are  alluded  to  without  being  named.  References  to  such  allusions 
are  enclosed  in  parenthesis.  Quotation-marks  cover  pseudonyms  and  names  of  fictitious  per- 
Tbe  star  (*)  points  to  birthdays.    The  list  contains  1476  names  and  3126  references. 


Aa^on,  177-8,  619-21,  6341627,  Ixxxiv.(6o4, 
707,  764).  Abbott,  556,  595.  Abercrombie, 
185.  Ackerman,  404.  Adam,  444,  568,  645, 
684,  72a.  Adams,  100,  113,  i49i  I77i  217, 
243.  33 1,  533,  553-4,  557-8.  687.  "Adoles- 
cens,"  500.  "iEneas,"  305.  "Agonistes," 
690.  Ahsrn,  5^.  Albert-Edward,  469-71* 
Albone,  537-S.  Albutt,  645.  Aldrich,  431. 
Alexander,  331.  "Algernon,"  641.  Allan, 
592.  Alhn,  151,  1S6,  339,  348,  55  ♦,  674,  6S8. 
Alley,  627,  657.  Aim,  •628.  "Amaryllis," 
442.  Amss,  124.  Amherst,  137, 185.  Amis, 
610.  Ammsn,  352.  "Ananias,"  349,  495. 
Anderson  (232).  Andirton,  537.  Andr^,  76, 
80,  169.  Andrews,  645.  App,  500.  Apple- 
ton.  65,  81,  87,96,  100,  155,  198,  431,  434, 
611-12,  700.  Apphyard,  4,  554,  557.  Archi- 
baki,  470.  Aristides,  71S.  Arming,  564. 
AfTOstrong,  466.  Arnold,  15,  169,  307,  728. 
•"Any,"  641.  Ash,  564.  Ashby,  347,  348. 
Asbmead,  646.  "Asmodsns,"  14.  Atkins, 
111,655,677.  Atkinson,  645, 693.  Atwater, 
628  (iSo,  423,  722-3).  Aube,  458.  Aurelius, 
466L  Austin,  *628.  Auten,  668.  Auty,  644. 
Avery,  674.  Ayers,  •siS^,  5)i,  5^4,  •627-8, 
675.  7«6  (70J). 

•"Baliy,"  553,  558.  Bacon,  173.  Baedeker, 
193,  640.  Bagg,  1S3,  201,  209-10,  610  (130- 1, 
7S3-3X  Bagot,  560, 696.  Bailey,  493.  Baird, 
560,  668  (630).  Baker,  ^487.  Baldwin,  384, 
578,  5S2.  609,  658  (395).  Bale,  696.  Ball, 
$54.  Ballantyoe,  635.  Bancroft  (23,  406, 
736).  Baney,  610.  Bannard  (2).  Baquie, 
638.  Bar,  609.  "  Bard,'*  506.  Bardeen, 
(313).  Bardwzll,  6to.  Barkman,  ^530,  584-5, 
597.  635,  65s.  677.  Barlow,  56 f.  Barnard, 
631.  Barnes,  323, 600, 635,  •668-9.  Bamett, 
«35i  «4S»  6o>  Barrett,  609.  Barrick,  376. 
B«"ow,  553, 689.  Barthol,  551-2.  Bartlett, 
•386,  62S.  Barton,  201,  210-11.  Bartram, 
563,645(369).  Bashall,645.  "  Basil,"  215-16, 
(437-S).  Basilooe,  700.  Bason,  562.  Bassett, 
•$as.  "ds?,  663-5,  675  (603,  639-30,  704,  7")- 
Basttan,  500.  Bates,  314,  319-30,  •soj,  610, 
631, 636. 639, 633, 657(3  II,  673).  Batchelder, 
575.  •*7^7'  Baughman,  344.  Baxter,  201, 
600,657.    Bayley,63&    Bayliss,  546.    Beach, 


77,188.    Beal,*638.    Beasley,599.    Beaxley, 

553.  Beck,  554.  Beckers,  575.  Beckwith, 
•637,666-7,675(633).  Beddo,(233).  Beebc. 
609.  Beecher,  403.  Beers,  99,  108,  126,  177, 
187,  466,  577,  701  (727,  733).  Beekman,  585. , 
Begg,  635.  Bell,  •529,  553.  Belcher,  65'*. 
Beuassil,  698.  Benjamin,355, 483, 661.  Ben- 
nett, 492,  561,  627.  Benson,  530.  Bentley, 
499  (t30-  Bsnton,  510.  Bernhard,  154. 
Berruyer,  698.  Bettison,  530.  "  Bibliopil,** 
699.  Bidweil,  96,  586,  594,  627-8.  Bien, 
174-5.  Biederman,  66i.  Bigelow,  523,  •65;. 
Biglin  (368-9).  Bmgham,  645,  651,  700. 
Binns,  482,  •543.  Bird,  293.  Bishop,  431, 
559,  563-4,  652,  728.  Bittenger,  643.  Black, 
561.  Blackball,  635.  Blackham,658.  Black- 
well,  542,  554.  Blacque,  83.  Blaine  (726). 
Blake,  ^628.  Blanchard,  646.  Blatchford, 
113.  Bley,  ^493.  Blylh,  658.  Blythe,  635. 
Bogardus,  493.  Bolton,  548,  683.  Bonami, 
698.  "Bones,"  431.  BonneIl,628.  Booth, 
493,  633.  Borrow,  446.  Bosworth,  65S. 
Bouchette,  331.     Bouchier,   562.     Bourdon, 

554.  Bousted,  634.  Bowen,  321-2,  563,  5<*8, 
677.  Bowles,  115,  *546.  Bowman,  158,  492. 
Braddock,  243.  Bradford  (463,  607).  Brad- 
ley, 254.  579-  Bradney,  645.  Brady,  17 ». 
Bragg,  22S.  Brevoort,  611.  Brewster,  370, 
594,627,643,657.  Bridgraan,*s5i.  Brierley, 
330.  634-5,  •669.  Briggs,  119,  559,  5-^3^ 
Brigham,  114.  Bristed,  *737.  Bristol,  658. 
Broadbent,  563.  Brock,  383,  545.  Brockett, 
177.  Brooke,  609,  645.  Brooks,  679  (412). 
Bromley,   1;^.     Brown,   141,  170,   177,  185, 

384,  47',  •537,  543.  55J»    557,  600,  627,  6Sa 
"  Brown,"  93,  499, 503,  605,  718.     Browning, 
655.     Bruce,  470,  •62S.     Bninelleschi,  429. 
Bryan,  700.     Bryant,  216,  667,  700.     Bryson, 
645-    "Bucephalc,"    238,    242.     Buchanan, 
686.     Buckingham,  555  (363).     Budds,   565. 
Buell,  328,658(121,  181,  191,  197).    Bulk,  645. 
"Buflf,"  424.     Bull,  221.  222,  "402,"  587. 
588,  594,  627,  677  (215,  317).     BuIIinger,  locx 
Bunce,  700.    Bunner  (36,  44, 346, 737).     Bi-* 
bank,  16,  iit,  506,  673,  677.     Burchard' 
Burgoyne,  127,  186.    Burke,  727.     Bui 
652,  665, 695.    Burnett,  645^    Bumbai 


Ixvi 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


^75*  ^3*  Burr,  157.  Burrill,  637.  Burs- 
ton,  55S-9,  560.  Burt,  632.  Bury,  647,  687. 
Busby,  59S.  Butcher,  114,  137,  135,  147, 330, 
322,374,  500,  506^,  511,  517,  5»9-a»»  524,  5*6, 
528-30  (714).  Butler,  208,  517,  554,  627. 
Buzzard,  560.  "  Byng,"  42S.  Byron  (i,  224). 
Cable,  331.  Calddeugh,  645.  Callahan, 
493.  Callan,  *545.  Callander,  553.  Calver- 
Icy,  34,  466,  472.  Calven,  560.  Cameron, 
iv.  Campbell,  127,  330,  48S.  CampHng,  537. 
Canary,  47,  133,693.  Candleman,  383.  Can- 
field,  2 15.  Candy,  *62S.  Cann,  547.  Caples, 
492.  Carl,  loi.  Carley,  610.  Carman,  326. 
Carney,  573.  Carpenter,  643.  Carroll,  631. 
Carter,  144,  384,  560.  Carver  (259,  274,  286). 
Cary,  542, 681, 73 1.  Case,  73,  583, 646.  Cas- 
sen,687.  Castiglione,  280.  Cather wood,  657. 
"  Cerberus,"  458.  Chad  wick,  158.  Chamard, 
628.  Chambers,  652,  675.  Champe,  169. 
Champlahi,  185.  Chandler,  12S,  370,  673 
(35,  261).  Cliase,  628,  658.  Chapin  (464). 
Chatfield  (405).  Chatham,  444.  Chickering, 
322.  Child,  577.  Childs,  3S9.  Chinn,  112, 
655, 677  (2 58, 281).  Christopher,  646.   Chubb, 

3 15.  Church,  534  (726).  Churchill,  656,  663, 
672,  678-9,(428.).  Cist,  352.  Clapp,  627,  727. 
Qare,  331.  Clark,  132,  589,  6io,  627,  643 
(47s).  Clarke,  244,  560,  570,  581,  628,  678^ 
(168, 727).  Clay,  243,  342.  Clegg,  689.  Clem- 
ens (iv.,  356,  640).  "  Cljricus,"  688.  Cleve- 
land (s47,  7i6).  Close,  645.  Cobb,  106,  109, 
646.  Coddington,  631.  Coe,  114.  Coffee, 
668.  Coffin,  628.  Cole,  559, 650.  Coleman, 
646.  Coles,  610.  Coleridge,  14,  280.  Col- 
lamer,  590,  627.  Collins,  •128, 138, 315, 66S-9, 
683.  Colombo,  61 1.  Colt,  464.  Colton,  99, 
"3.  M9.  »55,  177.  «87,  293,  321,  35*.  575. 
577-9,581,590.  Columbus,  429  (3).  Colvin, 
an.  "Comu»,"7o6.  "Condor,"  506.  Conk- 
ling,  643.    Conway,  553,  557.    Cook,  159,  174, 

316,  •493.  553  f  609,  645,  675,  687.  Cooper, 
«70»  553»  555.  5^5.  645,  636.  Copland,  564, 
696  Corbin,  137,  65S.  Corcoran  (422).  Cor- 
dingley,  686,  690-1.  Corey,  321,  •627,  •679. 
Comwallis,  169,  186,  238.  Corson,  22,  •525, 
577.  655,  •670-1  (257,  267,  269-71).  Cortis, 
4,  6S4.  Coselino,  493.  Costentenus,  239. 
Coster,  635.  Cotterell,  644.  Coventry,  683. 
Couch,  645.  Courtney,  519,  543,  645.  Cous- 
ins, 645.  Couser,  *i97.  Cowan,  324.  Cowen, 
490.  Cowlcs(42i).  Cowper,  40^.  Cox,  320, 
S5*.  538.  560-1.  Coy  (400).  Craft,  118,  579, 
f8o.    Craigie,  645.    Craigin,  488.    Cramer, 


501.  Crane,  670.  "Crapaud,"  141.  "Cra- 
poo,"  141.    Crawford,  228, 590^    Crawshay, 

645.  Cripps,  675.  Crist,  675.  Crocker,  610. 
Croll,  559.  Crooke,  553, 557.  "Crookshanks," 
489.  "Crorcroran,"  422.  Crosby,  609.  Cross- 
roan,  376.  Cruger,  194.  "Cruncher,"  410. 
"Crusoe,"  v.  "Cuff,"  506.  Cumraings,  627. 
Cunard,  593.  Cunningham,  231,  503,  517, 
5»3.  653,  656,  666-7,  7"-  Cupples,  113,  113, 
655.  "Curl,"  407-35.  Currier,  113.  Cur- 
tain, 491.    Curtin,  645.    Ctulis,  519.    Cutten, 

567. 

"  Daggeroni,"  4*9.  439-  Daguerre,  43  »• 
D.ilton,  *5o4,  655,  674.  Dana,  403.  Daniel, 
553.  55^*  Daniels,  407.  Dante,  429.  Dar- 
nell, *244,  496,  589.  Davies,  645.  Davis, 
»27.  403.  563.  698.  Day,  127,  281,  •512,  557, 
581,  658  (258,  272,  277).  Dean,  325,  526,  602, 
663-5  (7»9)-  I^ear  (379)-  I>e  Baroncelli,  645, 
651,  638,  •698-9.  "De  Bogus,"  4*9,  439- 
De  Civry,  552-3,  697,  699.  Decrow,  133. 
"  Dsdlock,"  466.  De  Forest  (452,  724,  727). 
Defoe  (v.).  De  Garmo,  400.  De  Gline,  700. 
De  Ligne,  645.  Delisle,  611.  Delmonico, 
611.  "  De  M oUetts,"  439, 439.  Demosthenes, 
457.  7*4-     "Densdeth,"   429.     Derrington, 

646.  De  Senancour,  468.  Destree,  561.  De 
Villers,  699.  Dickens,  349, 466,  728  (354,  410, 
724).  Dickinson,  90,  344,  512.  "  Dido,"  305. 
Diederich,  679.  Dieskau,  185.  Dignam,669. 
Dimock,  393  (274,  286).  Dinsmore,  666. 
Diogenes,  14.  Disraeli  (724).  Dixon,  493. 
Dodge,  610,  657.  Donly,  330,  598,  •634,  655, 
669,677.  Doolittle,*3i9,  •634.  Dorion,  336. 
Dorr,  366-7.  Doubleday,  352, 385.  Doughty, 
154.  Douglass,  330,  390.  Downey,  389, 
610.  Dowling,  •521.  Downs,  658.  Draper, 
431,  470.  Draucker,  609.  Dray,  646,  651. 
"  Dreeme,"  429,  431,  438-41.  Drew,  501, 
507,  512.  DruUard,  573.  Drummond,  646. 
Dniry,  688.  Drysdale,  356.  Dubois,  •627, 
697,  699.  Ducker,  ^524,  •561,  580,  615,  631, 
655,  661-2,  675,  693,  710.  Duncan,  552,  558, 
687,  697,  •699.  Dunn,  625,  627-8.  Dunsfnrd, 
567.  Durrant,  687.  Duryea,  388.  Duy- 
ckinck,  434,  439.     Dwight,  127. 

Bager,  634.  Eakin,  669.  Eakins,  330-1, 
634.  Early,  347.  Eastman,  577.  Easton, 
639.  Eddy,  327.  Edlin,  4.  Edward,  223. 
Edwards,  499,  564,  645,  695,  696  (706). 
Efendi,  481.  Egali,  481.  E^an,  667  (154). 
Egleston,  578.  Ehrlich,  217.  Eldred,  114. 
•377.  378.    "Elias,"   679.    Elizabeth,  453- 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixvii 


Elmer,  605.     Elwell,  •530,  573,  574,  •6a7 

(257.  269,  353-4,  358,  36a,  365.  368-70).  liJy. 
187,  526,  64J,  660  (386).  Emei-soit,  721,  732. 
Eropson,  5G0.  Eugleheart,  553.  English,  610^ 
646,675.  Enslow,  351.  Kntler,6io.  Erics> 
K>D.  593-  Enibsrg,  389.  Ernst,  697.  Ere- 
kiiie.  6:^4.  Etheringtoii,  524,  ^546-8, 648, 6S5, 
*6S9,  692-3.  Euripides,  466.  Evans,  211, 
jao-i,  331,  37S,  609,  64s,  669  (386).  Evarts, 
724  (464).  Everest,  •628.  Everett  (179, 189, 
191).     Everts,  581.     Ewell,  347. 

•*Faed,»'  534,  543,  55 «,  641, 643,647-  Fa>r, 
553.  Fairfisid  (109,  714).  Falconer,  555, 686. 
Faraday,  403.  Famsworth,  559.  Farr,  527. 
Farran,  683.  Farrar,  575,645.  Farrell,  597, 
628.  Farrington,  517,645.  Favre,  698.  Feldt- 
mann,  645.  Fell,  553,  628.  Fenoglio,  700. 
Fenwick,  635.  Ferguson,  628.  Ferns,  470. 
Fessenden,  323.  Field,  80.  Fields,  15.  Fink- 
ler,  489,  492.  Fish  (276).  Fisher,  345,  660. 
Fisk,  448.  Fiske,  *i  13, 142,  ^522.  Fitton,  566, 
567.  FlagIor,475.  Fleij:,6i2.  Fleming,  245, 
500,657.  Fletcher,  553,555-7,646.  Florence, 
344.  Floyd  (214).  Folger,  370.  Fontaine, 
a84, 523.  Foote,  559.  Forc2, 352.  Fortner, 
558.  Foster,  93,  513,  635,  655,  *667,  674, 
679.  Foulkes,  562.  Fourdrinier,  663,  *665. 
Fowler  (224).  Fox,  686,  68S-9,  693  (474). 
FrankJin,  386,  702.  Eraser,  329, 553.  Frazer, 
33 «,  645.  Freer,  aoi.  Fremont,  421.  Fri- 
buig,  529.  Fuller,  574, 645  (410).  Fumivall, 
675.     Fussell,  685.     Fyffe,  560. 

Qadd,  645.  Gade,  570.  Gaines,  c.  r.,  379. 
Gamage(t64).  Gambitz,  494.  Gamble,  553, 
556.  Gambrinus,  612.  Garfield,  93,  724. 
Garrard,  '698.  Garrett,  282, 688.  Garrison 
(708).  Gates,  1 18-9,  1S3,  186,  579,  587. 
Gault,  560- 1.  Gsbsrt,  698.  Geddes,  559-60. 
"  Geesee,"  281.  Genslioger,  •670.  George, 
217,  561,  564.  Getty,  610.  Gibb,  645. 
Gibbes,66S.  Gibbs,  351, 367.  Gibbons,  691. 
GibHon,  489,  493,  625.  Giffnrd,  65S.  Gil- 
bert, 562  (465).  Gill,  127,  560,  6S3.  Gilman, 
a36, 503,  507,  576,  •617,  643,  663-4,  666.  Gil- 
matf  347.  Gimblette,  646.  Giotto,  429. 
Glen, 650.  Gna*dinger,  634.  Goddard,  402-3, 
673,688.  'Godst,  355.  Goetze,  21.  Golder, 
551.  Goldsmith  (iv.).  Goodman,  326, 615, 
63s,  655,  675.  Gooduow,  •527.  Goodwin, 
300,  •535-7,  543.  553-4,  558.  Gordon,  244, 
322.  Gorman,  244.  Gormully,  683.  Gomall, 
696.  Gorringe,  465.  Gorton,  546.  Gossett, 
SS4.    Gould,  79.    Gowdy,   527.    Goy,  688. 


Goyne,  562.  Grace,  96.  Gracey,658.  Grant, 
465,  7»4-5,  7*9,  73a.  Graves,  114,  119,  324, 
530,627.  Gray,  561.  Greatrix,  325.  Greeley, 
49"),  727-  Green,  138,  621,  646.  Greene, 
327,  352.  Greensides,  561.  Gregory,  348, 
564.  Griffin,  646,  683,  6S5, 689,  690.  Griffith 
(384).  Griggs,  609.  Grimes,  581.  Groom, 
645.  Grout,  545-  Guerney,  553.  Gulick, 
*627,  Gurney,  644.     Guy,  552. 

"Hal,"  618.     Hale,   731.     Hall,  75,  236, 
560(461).     Hallam,  557, 563-4.     Ha'sail,657. 
Hamel,  330.     Hamerton,  309,  446,  468-9,  731 
(722).     Hamlin  (202,  727).     Hamilton,  658, 
675,687.    Hand,  340.    Handford,  560.    Han- 
Ion,  403.     Hansman,  348-9.     Harding,  127, 
187-8.     "  Hardrider,"  506.      Hannan,  554. 
Harper,  158,  242,  355,  39«>-»»  4oa-4,  475.  483, 
700.     Harrington,  41.      Harris,   164,  627-8, 
643,  645  (v.,  24,  3»»,  380).     Harrison,  328, 
553,  563, 663-4.     Harrod,  236.     Harston,  560. 
Hart,  526,  589,  620,  645,  655,  Hbo,  674,  678. 
Haslett,  •628.     Haskell  (733).      Hathaway, 
628  (259).     Hawley,   658.     Hay,   645,    695, 
Hayes,  236,  322,  539.  •540,  543,  581,  •627. 
Haynes,  217,   546,    625.     Hazleton,   559-60. 
Hazlett,  114,  121,  149,244,  314,  506,513-14. 
518,675(102,179,673).     Heald,  154.    Heard, 
645,  679.     Heath,  503,  628,  685,  656.     Heck- 
man  (2  89).    "  Heep,"  424-5.     Helmer,  .216. 
Hemmenway,  •517.     Hendee,  629,  675,  693 
(>23,  254).     Hepinstall,  314,  319.     Herbert, 
645.    Hemu,  546,  555.     Herrick,  47a  (?95i 
295).    Herring,  597.    Hesketh,645.    Hether- 
ington,  330.     Heymer,  574.     Hibbard,  598, 
627,  655,  679.     Hicks,  528-9.     Hijrgins,  336 
(239)     High,  351,  484,  •485,  498,  552,  589-90, 
675.     Higinbotham,   529.     Hildebrand,  645. 
Hill,  III,  152,  401,  500,  627.     Hillier,  547-8, 
643,  6S6-7,   6S9-90,  692-3,  694.     Hills,   557, 
639,645.     Hinchcliff e,  645.     Hitchcock,  675. 
"Hoad,"  398, 400-1.  Hoadley,  400.    Hodges, 
664,  674,  704  (6  ■  7-18).    Hodgins,  695.    Hodg- 
man,  562.     Hoffman,  323.     Hoifmaster,  211. 
Hogg,  628,  645,  649,  695.     Holcombc,  323-4. 
Holland,  513,  527,  5S1,  72S.     HoUister,  492. 
Holmes,  645.     Holt,  429,  439(703).     Holton, 
610.    Homer,  390, 430.    Hooker,  347.    Hope, 
560.     Horsman,  100.     Houghton,  386,  402, 
504,  658.    Housser,  635.    Hovey,  aoi.    Haiv- 
ard,  127,  348,  453,  542,  549,  •ssOiJ 
(198,  320,659).     HoweU,6»" 
428.     Howland,   ^S'S-mj/fF 
Hubbard,  48a,  696. 


Ixviii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


$53»  645.  Hugo,  429.  Hull,  539.  Hume, 
S6i,  565.  Humphrey,  353.  Hunt,  223  (304). 
Hunter, •670, 675.  Huntingdon, 677.  Hunt- 
ington, 583, 625,  638.  Huntley,  675.  Hunts- 
man, 557.     Hurd,  403.     Hurlbert  (431,  44I1 

463,  72O-0- 

UUngWOrth,  64$.  Imboden,  347.  Ingall, 
S99>  645-  Inwards,  689.  lliffe,  54S,  550, 
648,  684-87, 689-92, 694.  Irons,  646.  Irving, 
79.  Irwin,  559,  ♦638.  "  Isabel,"  315-6 
(437-8),  Ives,  675.  "  Ixion,"  508,  673,  688. 
"Jack,**  410-25.  Jackson,  347,  643. 
Jacques,  698.  Jacquin,  611.  Jacquot,  651, 
699.  Jaman,347.  James,  433,  543.  Jarrold, 
683.  Jar^-is,  •486.  Jefferson,  339,  351,  435. 
Jeffery,  683.  Jeffries,  546.  Jenkins,  •187, 
•saZt  330.  559.  567-«»  ^637,  635,  •666-8,  677 
(617, 619, 704-8;.  Johnson,  185,  333, 347,  352f 
408,  437.  4361  470.  508,  513,  588,  625,  ♦628, 
643.  645.  677,  679,  765  (161).  Johnston,  470, 
634*  "Jonathan,"  402.  Jones,  69,  283-4, 
$38,  •539»  637,  645,  684,  719  (368).  Joshua, 
733-  Joslin,  •197  (22,  107,  171).  Joy,  560. 
Judd,  582,  685,  •689,  692.  •'  Juggernaut," 
444*    Jumcl,  72.     "  Jupiter,"  688. 

Kam,  f34.  Kattell,  218.  Keam,  562. 
Keefe,  561,  565.  Keen,  547,  686.  Keith- 
Fakoner,  555.  Kellogg,  493.  Kelly,  690 
(706).  Kemble,  728.  Kemmann,  697.  Ken- 
dall, 112,  536,  *627,  675,  686.  Kendrick, 
183.    Kenworthy,  645.     Kerr,  598.    Kerrow, 

553.  Kershaw,  526.  Ketcham,*i97.  Kider- 
Icn*  553*  Killits,  349.  Kinch,  588,  658. 
King,  1 13, 126-7, 672, 698.  Kirkpatrick,  ^627, 
677.  Kirkwood,  575.  Kluge,  675.  Knapp, 
675.  Knight,  562, 64s,  688.  Knowlton,  336. 
KnoX|*628,658.    Knox-Holmes,  645.    Koch, 

554.  Kohont,  553.  Kolp,  *34o.  Kostovitz, 
481,  551.  Kron,  23,  48,  63,  279,  326,  367, 
526,  671,  679,  706,  720.  Knig,  523.  Kurtz, 
668.     Kusel,  •524. 

Tiftdllh,  671.  Lafon,  156.  Laing,  645. 
Laird,  628.  Lakin,  378,  508,  526-8.  Lalle- 
ment,  139-42,  394.  Lamb,  114,  434.  Lam- 
aon,  17,  22,  41.  45.  616,  714  (260-1,  269, 
•73).  Landy,  675.  Lane,  330  (399).  Lang, 
686,  723.  Langdown,  *569.  Langer,  697. 
I^ngley,  •530,  635  (319).  Lansdown,  327. 
Lansing,  656.  Larette,  693.  Larkin,  127. 
Lathrop,  127.  Lawford,  504.  Lawrence, 
93,395.  Lawton,  *627.  Lazare,666.  "Lean- 
der,*'  8 16.  Lee,  558,  679.  Leeson,  645. 
Leete,  13a.    L^r,  699.    Lennox,  554-S.  645, 


6S6.  Leo  (714).  Leonard,  6o>  Leslie,  333. 
Lester,  55).  Letts,  681-2.  Lewellyn,  559. 
Lewis,  7,  ^524,  628,  631,  652,  696  (463X 
Lillibridge,  128,  578.  Lincoln,  127,  422,  447, 
465.724-5-  Line,  554.  Lippincott,  i,  168,658. 
702.  Lister,  560.  Little,  471,  561,  680. 
Livingston,  594,  627  (714).  Lloyd,  151,  553. 
Locket,  645.  Logan,  609,  645.  Long,  560. 
Longfellow,  430.  Longman,  687.  L»ng- 
streth,6i8.  Loomis,  527.  Lord,  237.  Lord- 
ing>56>-  Lossing,  700.  Louis  (24).  Lover- 
ing.  525.  679.  Low,  523,  548,  659,  689,  ♦690. 
Lowry,  569.  Luke,  645.  Lyne,  566,  696. 
Lyon,  218.     Lyons,  470. 

Macanlay,  ^52 7.  McBride,  319,  634. 
McCall,  378.  McCandlibh,  548,  689,  •690. 
McCann,  527.  McCaw,  326.  McClellan 
(422).  McClintock,  680.  McClure,  515,656, 
658  (702).  McCook,  228.  McCormack,  523. 
McCray,  655.  McDonnell,  128,  138,  149, 
237.  248,  325.  388,  484,  508-13,  515-17,  5<9-2o> 
524.  527-30.  553.  569.  575.  7«4-  McGarrett, 
114,631.  "McGillicuddy,"  433.  MacGowan, 
»97»  579-  Mclnlurff  (345,  383).  McKee, 
4t.  McKeiraie,  660.  Mackey,  too.  Mc- 
Manns,  611.  McMaster,  186.  McMillan, 
587.  McNathan,  670.  McNeil,  583.  Mc- 
Nicoll,  598.  MacOwen,6i9, 674.  Macown, 
325.  McRae,  652.  Macredy,  640,  645,  65a, 
695.  McTigue,  315.  MacWilliam,  548, 689, 
693.  Maddox,  645.  Mahan,35i.  "Mahher," 
433.  "Major,"  658.  Manny,  666.  Marche- 
gay,  698.  "Margery,"  506.  Markham,  333. 
Marriott,  553-5,  5S7i  646, 6S5.  Marsden,  637. 
Marshal,  578.  Marston,  659.  Martin,  381, 
564,  653.  Marvin,  *66o,  675,  6S7.  Mason, 
131,  323,  523,  559-60,  645,  681-2.  Mathews 
(43S,  457-6i).  Matheys,  245.  Matthews,  500, 
587.  Maveety,  323.  Maxwell,  245,  50a 
May,  567.  Maynard,  6ia  Mayor,  553. 
Mead,  164,  *509.  Meagher  (422).  Meeker, 
493.  Menzies,  686.  Mercer,  553,  557,  686. 
Merrill,  198,  401,  476,  ^492,  609.  Mershon, 
678.  Meyer,  547,  645.  Meyers,  668,  675-8. 
Midgely,  in,  •513,  515  (258,  274,  276-7,  279). 
Miles,  672.  Miller,  244.  561,  ^627,  634,  643, 
655.  675.  679  (338,  630).  Milner,  542-3,  599. 
Mills,  492,  553,  555-8,  645,  686  (v.,  338,  630X 
Mitchell,  645.  Mobley,  242.  Moigno,  69S. 
Monk,  645.  Monod,  400-2.  Montcalm,  185. 
Moody,  560,  652.  Moore,  172,  aro,  337,  535, 
548,  554-5. 685, 689,  •690, 691-3  (739).  Moor- 
house,  557.    Moran,  345.    Morgan,  499, 610. 


INDEX  OF  PEftSONS. 


Ixix 


Moli&re,  Tas.  Morley,  645.  jJorris,  645, 
6S3.  Morrison,  177,  535,  670,  693.  Morse, 
43 «.  434 » 470-  Mosby,  347, 379.  Moses,  733. 
Mott,  470, 561.  Mouutfort,  567.  Mudd,  627, 
660.  Mudge,  663-4.  Munger,  321-2,  675. 
Manroe,  19S,  615,  626,  627,  720  (24).  Myers, 
445.  500.  •5901  62 S,  •678. 

NadjJ,  447^  (444,  720-  Nairn,  54o»  55>» 
686,639-4)0,692-3.  "Nauticus,"  684.  Need- 
ham,  564.  Neilson,6;s.  Nelson,  660.  Neu- 
ho£Fer,  562.  Neve,  686.  Newcastle,  470. 
Newman,  186.  Nicholson,  175.  Ninuno, 
560.  Nisbst,  695.  Nix,  553.  Nixon,  554^. 
Noah,  V.  Noon,  153.  Norris,  56;,  610. 
Northrup,  5S7.     Nungcsser,  83.     Nunn,645. 

O'Brien,  391, 65S.  "  Octopus,"  690.  Og- 
den,  198.  Oliver,  627,  645,  666-7.  Ollapod, 
6!}6.  Olmsted,  93,  95,  335.  O'Mara,  327. 
O'Neil.  3*7.  Ord,  645-  O'Reilly.  657. 
O'Rourke,  171.  Orr,  635.  Osborn,  197. 
Osborne,  660.  C^good,  15,  293,  386,  504, 
575»  577-  Oxxif  674.  Overman,  662-5,  676, 
67  J.     "  Owl,"  667.     Oxborrow,  538,  553,  555. 

Padman,  560^1.  Page,  493-*4.  574i  S/^t 
589-90.  Pagis,  651,  698.  Pagnioud,  699. 
Painter,  567-9.  "  Pakeha,"  566,  569.  Pal- 
freyt  35^»  386.  Palmer,  149,  589,  628,  6S7. 
Pangbom,  245.  Paritschke,  697.  Park,  678. 
Parker,  105,  562,  569,  610.  Parmely,  579. 
Parmenter,  488.  Parry,  793.  Parsons,  127, 
•516-17, 616,  ^627.  Patch,  167, 2 15-16.  Pater- 
wn.  53*1  S39-40*  542,  6S1.  Pattison,  645. 
Patton,  5oo,*67o.  Paul,  "442."  588.  Payne, 
634,  6S1-2.  Peabody,  515.  Peacock,  23. 
Pean,  553.  Pearce,686.  Peavey,  576.  Peck, 
iool  Peirce,627.  Pellecontre,  698.  Pelton, 
332.  Pennell,  530,  616, 627,655, 687.  Percy, 
100.  Perharo,  •515,  573  (257,  277,  279). 
Perigo,  100.  "  Perker,"  5»6,  567.  Perkins, 
62S,  645.  Perreaux,  698.  Peterkin,  645. 
Peters,  290-1,  672.  PettengiU,  628,  799(375» 
377).  Pcttce  (260, 276).  Petter,645.  Phelps, 
i65.  Philip,  682.  Phillips,  208,  279,  •550, 
S77,  639,  645,  646,  656,  658,  6S3  (258,  277). 
Philpot,  646,  650.  Piatt,  527.  Pierrepont 
(464).  Pick,  5fi.  Pickering,  394,  400-5, 
577,  69S.  Pickett,  386.  "  Pickwick,"  2S0. 
Pitcher,  327.  Pitman,  523.  Pittr444).  Place, 
513.  "Podwinkle,"  506.  Polhill,  500.  Polk, 
660.  Pool,  643.  Pond,  346.  Pope,  24,  106, 
323-4,  474,  657-9,  664-5,  673,  675,  678,  •680, 
702-3,  711-14.  Popovitz,  481.  Porter,  122, 
125-6,     179,    251    (173),    678.    Post,    *628. 


"Potiphar,"  433.    Potter,   584,  •627,  643, 

645,  675,  *68o  (630).  Power,  176,  215.  Pow- 
ell, 348,  645.  Pratt,  106,  III,  X39,  147,  'sos, 
581,  615,  625-7,  643,  656.9,  663-4,  666-7,  669, 
672,  675,  678,  688-9,  703  (24,  619,  65S-9,  70a, 
714).  Preble,  610.  Preece,  567.  Pressey, 
671.  Prial,  •666.  Price,  207, 341,  646. 
Prince,  470,  525,  675,  693.  Proudfoot,  559. 
Prout,  646.  Putnam,  139,  625, 627.  "Quashi- 
boo,"  444. 

Badcliffe,  430.  Raleigh,  571.  Rail,  •628. 
Ralph,  154.  Rand,  674.  Ranken,  645. 
Rankine,  69S.  Ray,  500.  Read,  627.  Reed, 
370,  656,  658.  Reeves,  660.  Regamey,  698. 
Reidesel,  127.  "Remus,"  v.,  24, 380.  Renan, 
472.  Rennert,  609.  Revell,  249,  542-3.  Rey- 
nolds, 527-8,  •533,  553-4,  646,  696.  Rhodes, 
675.  Rice,  564  (24,  35).  Rich,  193,  675. 
Richard,  698.  Richanis,  •678.  Richardson, 
62,  63,  221,  646,  65S,  685.  Richelieu,  459. 
Rideing,  242.  Rideout,  •490-1.  Ridgway, 
571.  Ridley  (310).  Rielly,  327.  Rifat,  48a. 
Higoley,  698.  Ritchie,  172,  507,  511,  523. 
Rittenger,  697.  Roach,  316.  Robbins,  645. 
Roberts,  446,  468,  541,  543,  5*3-4,  599,  645A 
687.  Robinson,  "44,"  64^  "719."  Roche- 
foucauld, 727.  Rockwell,  609,  656,  663,  672, 
678-9.  Rocther,  315.  Rogers,  218,  474,  575, 
•628,  632,  ^671.  Rollins,  499!  Ronaldson, 
561.  Rood,  197.  Roorbach,  164(172).  Roose- 
velt, 657  (455).  Root,  6S0.  Ropes,  352. 
"Rosalind,"  439.  Rose,  489.  Rosenbluth, 
395.  Ross,  579,  •627,  635.  Rothe,  •515. 
Round,  6S7.  Rousset,  ^552-3.  Rowe,  543, 
629,675.    Roy,  330.    Roylance,  646.   Rucker, 

646.  Rugg,  565.  Ruggles,  598.  Rumney, 
646.  Rushworth,  •545.  Russell,  553,  696. 
Rust,   138  (580>     Rutter,  599,  646.    Ryrie, 

3»9.  637- 

Sage,  147-  St.  Germains,  470.  Salsbury, 
544.  Sandham,  279,  348,  511-12  (258,  274)- 
Sargeant,  164.  Saveall,  646.  Savile,  646. 
Sawtell,  377,  378.  Sawyer,  679.  Schaap, 
628.  Scherer,  628.  Schmied,  697.  Schu- 
macher, 592.  Schwalbach,  586.  Scott,  414, 
422,  527(39?,  727).  Scribner,  346,  352,  431, 
504, 570, 655, 658, 6S7.  Scrutton,  646.  Scud- 
der,  658.  Searle,  646.  Seely,  ^348,  687. 
"Selah,"  154.  Senseney,  677.  Serrell,  177. 
Service,  567.  Servoss,  112,  Seward,  724. 
Seymour,  332.  Shafer,  216.  Shakespeare, 
407  (419).  Sharp,  529,  673, 691.  Shays,  127, 
147.    Sbeam,  324.    Sheffey,   484.    ^^  " 


Ixx 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


454,  468.  Shcpard,  114,  527,  5SS  (708). 
Sheppee,  646.  Sherburne,  578.  Sheriran, 
S44»  3/0»  48S  (101,  20^10,  334).  Sheriff,  500. 
Sherriff,  646.  Shields,  *6a8.  Shtmmin,  561. 
Shipton,  643-4,  646,  GS7,  691.  Shoies,  594, 
637.  Shriver,  5S7.  Siddall,  718.  Sider,646. 
Sidney,  466.  Silberer,  697.  Sill,  vi.  Simp- 
ion,  100,  646.  Singer,  696.  Skinner,  370, 
569.  Sk(K;lund,  5^.  Slocum,  503.  Siopcr, 
564.  Smith,  71,  "92,"  112,  iiS,  126-7,  'T^f 
182-3, 223. 366, 432. 493. 499. 502»  509.  5=3.  5^. 
579,  589,  "^7,"  6^6,655,67I,  691,  *' 718." 
Snell,  152.  Snicker,  244,  383.  Snow,  68 7. 
Socrates,  466.  Soley,  351.  Solomon,  343. 
"Solon,"  477.  Somer»,*520-2i.  Souleiman, 
481.  Spalding,  100,  499,  508.  Spead,  575. 
Spencer,  554,  685,  687.  Spicer,  560,  652. 
Spinner,  208.  Six>f7ord,  96.  Spon^,  564. 
"Spot,"  410.  Spraker,  200.  Spurrier,  •684-5, 
688.  Stabler,  376,  497  (373)-  Stables,  6S4. 
Stacpoole,  646.  Stall,  323-4,  378,  675  (371, 
386).  Stanion,  336,  508,  546,  547,  564-5,  607. 
Surk,  186, 3O6.  Starkey,  561.  Stead,  600, 643, 
646.  Ste£Fncr,  500.  Steiger,  100.  Stephen, 
733.    Stephenson,  •529.     Stevens,   48,    158, 

204,  307.  •473-S4,  •SS'.  552,  558.  570-2,  599. 
655,  657,  668,  675,  698.  Stevenson,  560,  s'/J. 
Stewart,  152,  244.  Stiles,  403.  "Stillfleet," 
428-9.  Stillman,  450.  Stoddard,  185-7,  211, 
525,  679.  Stokes,  559-60,  674.  Stone,  321-2. 
525,  661,  671.  Stoner,  646.  Stoney,  646. 
Story,  560.  Slreetcr,  ii.  (727).  Stroup,  176. 
Strong  (102).  Struthers,  112.  Sturmey,  525, 
•548-9,  643,  684-6,  690,  692.  "Stuyvesant," 
433.  Suberlie,  699.  "Suchapbce,"  446.  Sul- 
livan, 158.  Sumner,  609.  Surprise,  ^628, 
632,  •670.  Sutton,  554,  646.  Swallow,  •128, 
Sweeney,  612.  Sweetser,  127,  293  (577). 
Swiss,  138.  Sylvester,  520.  Syraonds,  529. 
Snyder,  100. 

Tagart,  553.  Tainlor,  198.  Tanner,  639. 
Tate,  583.  Tatum,  520.  Taylor,  16S,  295, 
344,  •520,  609.  Tegetmeier,  531,  534,  542-3, 
558,  599  (v.).  Teller,  196.  "Telzah,"  102, 
179,506,575,673.  Tennyson,  673.  Terront, 
4,  547.  Terry,  626-7.  Tliatcher,  400.  Thayer, 
576,672.  Theodore,  611.  Thomas,  244, 400, 
546, 646.  Thompson,  202,  206,  216,  553,  561, 
663.  Thomson,  646.  Thorbnm,  599.  Thome, 
559-60.  Thomfcldt,  562,  565,  696.  Tibbils 
(131).  Tibbs,  330,  634,  646,  669.  Tichener, 
218.  Ticknor,  293.  Tift,  609.  Tilden,  79 
(464).    Timms,  504.    Tinker,  680.    Tisdale, 


635.  "Tltanambungo,"  535.  Titus,  658.  To- 
bias, 646,  "679."  Todd,  589,  646  (633). 
Tolstoi,  729.  Tonkin,  562.  Tonnet,  699. 
Toscani,  700.  Tough,  652.  Tow^user.d,  669. 
Townson,  646.  Tracy,  505.  Trigwell,  540. 
Troedel,  696.  Trow,  100.  "TuBcinghom,** 
466.  Tupper,  728.  Turner,  558.  Tun;eneff, 
72S.  Turrell,  646.  Twain,  iv.,  356,  640, 
"Twiddle,"   506.    Twiss,    138.    T>ler,   128, 

»35,  »38,  •149.  5»o.  5S«,  •627. 

Upbam,  1 12-13,  578,  655.  Upstill,  563. 
UndercufHer,  387.  Underwood,  508.  Ure, 
646. 

Vail,  171-  Vanderbilt,  32,  156,  185.  Van- 
derveer,  90.  Van  Loan,  1S7.  Van  Sicklen, 
321,  519,  •627,  675  (630).  Varlet,  651.  Var- 
ley,  646.  Vamey  (257,  274).  Vaux,  95,  666. 
"Velox,"  688.  Verhoeff,  •235.  Vemieule, 
176.  Victoria,  471.  Viele,  94.  Viltard,  651. 
"Viola,"  439.  Viollct,698.  "Viipinia,"  44a. 
Virtue,  570.  Vivian,  322.  Vogel,  552.  "Von 
Twill?r,"  433. 

Wade,  646.  Wagner,  80.  Waite  (464.  726). 
Wainwright,  625  (597).  Wales,  93, 94,  469-70W 
Walker,  112-13,  559.  5^2,646,  651,  679,  697. 
Wallace,  609.  WaUer,  4.  547  (130)-  WaUey 
(372).  Wallis,  646.  Walmesly,  554.  Walter- 
mire,  492.  Wapple,  489.  Warburton,  543. 
Ward,  658  (730).  Waring,  553.  Wame,  685. 
Warner,  286, 646,  683.  Warren,  558.  Wash- 
ington, 25,  72,  74,  77.  »27,  143,  163,  171,  186, 
«97.  350.  367.  39* ,  434,  702.  Wassung,  643. 
Walerhouse,  557,  627.  Waterman,  516,  559. 
Watson,  112,  154,  554.  Way,  635.  Way- 
mouth,  646.  Wayne,  389,  6o>.  "  Wealthy," 
506.  Webb,  3^2,  554.  Wtbbcr,  655,  •674-5. 
Weber,  351-2, 629, 675.  Webster,  320.  Wedg- 
wood, 470.  Welti,  315.  Wckh,  6a8  (294, 
401).  Welford,  570,  644,  f  8;-S,  6qi.  Wells, 
6j8.  Wenley,  646.  Wc«i\\v»rth,63i.  West, 
320,  325.  Weston,  504,  <v4.i-4.  646,  •656-7^ 
663-4,676-7,712.  WVstbnx^k,  634.  Wester- 
veh,  114,  182-3.3^1.  Weiwore(i75).  Whar- 
low,  •543.  WhAlttw,  •544.  <h6.  Wheatlcy, 
59'),  Wheeler,  650. 655,  W>'>-7,  674.  Whcler, 
3S5.  Whipi>le,  H4.  »82-3.  W'hitall,  520. 
Whitcomb,  5im.  White,  201,  244,  526,  559, 
5v>S.  674  (33SU.)V  Whiting,  •138-9,  676.  Wig- 
gles worth.  646.  Wilcox,  666  (94,  702).  Wild, 
542.  Wi!kinson,  677,  210, 628.  William,  723. 
WilliAms«  05.  185.  3 '6.  53°.  55*.  577.  •58a, 
651,  673, 693  (107.  258,  272, 275-6.  452).  Will- 
iamson, 684.    WiIlison,638.   Willoughby,  570^ 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS, 


Ixxi 


627.  Wilson,  too,  38a,  525,  534,  558. 690, 693 
(a^).  Winchell,  114.  Winthrop,  429,  431, 
439. 443.  6to.  Wistar,  627  (354).  Witty,  400. 
Wood,  158,  172,  17s,  177,  317,  377-8,  383, 
•388-9, 400,  498,  562,  584,  593,  625,  *627, 675.7 
(644).  Woodburn,  658.  Woodman,  530.  Wood- 
roofe,  635.  Woodruff,  334.  Woods,  646. 
Woodside,  499,  675.  Woodward,  198.  Wool- 
worth,  14S.  Wormley,  241.  Worth,  390, 
609.  Wragge,  560.  Wright,  18, 22,  93,  •628, 
643.  646,  660,  665, 674,  677. 

Zenophon  viii. 

Tftpplewell,  538.  Yates,  *5 19-20  (286). 
Yopp,  62S.  "  Yorick,"  402.  Yorke,  687. 
Young,  105,  •525,  •556,  575, 646, 655, 679, 686. 
Youngman  (387). 

Zacharlaw,  712  (170-1,  174,  192-3).  Zeh, 
313.  Zimmemian,  628.  Zmertych,  551.  Zu- 
bowitz,  558. 

Contributors*  Records. 

(Mrs.)  J.  H.Allen,  354.  £.  Ash,  564.  B. 
B.  Ayera,  •518.    G.    W.   Baker,  •487.    A. 

B.  Barkman,  '530.  E.  G.  Barnett,  245.  H. 
Barthol,  551-2.  J.  M.  Barton,  201.  A. 
Basaett,  •sas.  C.  D.  Batcheldcr,  575-6.  L. 
J.  Bates,  505-6.  J.  W.  Bell,  ^529.  P.  L. 
Bemhard,  154.  W.  Binns,  •543.  R.  O. 
Bishop,  563.  H.  BlackwcH,  554.  J.  L. 
Bley,  •493.  A.  M.  Bolton,  549,  683.  W. 
Bowles,  •546.  W.  J.  Bowman,  492.  G.  L. 
Bridgman,  •550.  C.  P.  Brigham,  377.  G. 
R.  Broadbent,  562.  F.  W.  Brock,  545.  J. 
W.  M.  Brown,  ^537.  G.  L.  Budds,  565.  H. 
Callan,  •si^  W.  W.  Canfield,  215.  W. 
Collins,  •^S,  138.  J.  K.  and  T.  B.  Con- 
^ay.  553.  557-  P-  R-  Cook,  •493.  J.  Cop- 
land, *s64-5.     E.  H.  Corson,  525,  577.     H. 

C.  Courtney,  544.  M.  W.  Couser,  •197.  W. 
F.  Grossman,  376.  R.  C.  Cox,  560-1.  J.  G. 
Dalion,  •504.  W.  W.  Darnell,  •244.  P.  C. 
Darrow,  xcH.  S.  H.  Day,  •sia.  J.  S. 
Dean,  526.  P.  E.  Doolittle,  •319.  B.  W. 
Doughty,  154.  J.  D.  Dowling,  •521.  S.  B. 
Downey,  3S9.  F.  E.  Drullard,  574.  H.  E. 
Docker,  •524.  A.  Edwards,  565.  F.  A.  El- 
dred,  •377.  H.  Etherinpiton,  *546-8.  W. 
P.  Evans,  378.  I.  K.  Falconer,  555.  W. 
Farnogton,  517.  H.  C.  Finkler,  489-92.  G. 
F.  Fiske,  113,  142,  •522.  J.  Fitton,  567-8. 
W.  T.  Fleming,  245,  500.  L.  Fletcher,  554, 
557.  C.  E.  Gates,  587.  k.  Gault,  560-1. 
W.  V.    GHotan,  •so?.    S.  Golder,  551.    C. 


M.  Goodnow,  527.  H.  R.  Goodwin,  *336-7, 
554.  C.  H.  R.  Gossett,  554.  L.  B.  Graves, 
114.  T.  F.  Hallam,  563.  H.  B.  Hart,  526. 
A.  Hayes,  *S4o-i.     F.  D.  Hclmer,  216.     £. 

A.  Hemenway,  •517.  C.  H.  Hepiustali,3i4. 
W.  E-  Hicks,  528.  H.  J.  High,  •4S5.  C. 
Howard,  '550.  W.  Hume,  561.  H.  Jarvis, 
•486.  F.  Jenkins,  •187.  F.  M.  S.  Jenkins, 
*3'7»  330-  H.  J.  Jenkins,  568.  H.  J.  Jones, 
♦538-40.  J.  T.  Joslin,  •197.  C.  D.  Ker- 
shaw, 526.  R.  Ketcham,  *i97.  A.  J.  Kolp, 
•340.  I.  J.  Kusel,  •524.  W.  H.  Langdown, 
569-70.    C.  Langley,  •530.    J.  Lennox,  554-5. 

B.  Lewis,  •524.  C.  H.  Lyne,  565-6,  696.  J. 
D.  Macaulay,  ^527.  R.  H.  McBride,  319. 
G.  P.  MacGowan,  197.  T.  R.  Marriott, 
554-5.  557.  E.  Mason,  •523.  R.  D.  Mead, 
•509.  G.  B.  Mercer,  553,  557.  F.  T.  Merrill, 
492.  T.  Midgely,  *5i3-i5.  A.  E.  Miller, 
244.  G.  P.  Mills,  *555-8.  A.  Nixon,  554-5. 
J.  F.  Norris,  567.  H.  C.  Ogden,  198.  A. 
H.  Padman,  560-1.  W.  B.  Page,  '494-9, 
573-8.  R.  W.  Parmenter,  488.  G.  L.  Par- 
meley,  579.  A.  S.  Parsons,  •516.  E.  F. 
Peavey,  576.  J.  and  E.  R.  Pennell,  53a 
W.  L.  Perham,  •515.     R.  E.  Phillips,  •550. 

C.  E.  Pratt,  •503.  H.  R.  Reynolds,  jr., 
*533-4.  A.  C.  Rich,  193.  E.  and  W.  Rideout, 
•491.  A.  E.  Roberts,  563.  R.  P.  H.  Rob- 
erts, 54 1.  S.  Roether,  315.  A.  S.  Roorbach, 
164.  W.  Rose,  489.  T.  Rothe,  •515.  P. 
Rousset,  •552.  J.  F.  Rugg,  565.  G.  H. 
Rushworth,  •545.  T.  S.  Rust,  138.  F.  Sals- 
bury,  544.  E.  E.  Sawtell,  •377.  L.  W. 
Seely,  348-9.  M.  T.  Shafer,  216.  F.  W. 
Sherburne,  578.     H.  P.  and  G.  H.  Shimmin, 

561.  E.   R.   Shipton,  691.    T.  B.  Somers, 

•520.    S.  G.  Speir, .    C.  Spencer,  55  j. 

J.  W.  Stephenson,  '529.  G.  T.  Stevens,  551. 
T.  Stevens,  •473-84,  570-2.  H.  Sturmey, 
548-9.  F.  O.  Swallow,  128.  F.  P.  Sy- 
monds,  529.  J.  E.  R.  Tagart,  553.  G.  J. 
Taylor,  ^520.  E.  Tegetmeier,  53 1-3.  G.  B. 
Thayer,  576.  R.  Thompson,  216.  R.  A. 
and  T.  H.Thompson,  561.     M.  Thomfeldt, 

562,  565-6,  696.  C.  E.  Tichener,  218.  N. 
P.  Tyler,  128,  138-9,  "149,  •510.  N.  H.  Van 
Sicklen,  519.  J.  M.  Verhosff, '235-7.  J.  S. 
Whatton,  •544.  H.  T.  Whailrw,  •543.  J, 
H.  Whiting,  138.  F.  E.  Van  Meerbeke, 
xcv.  H.  &  W.  J.  Williams,  3«6.  H.  W. 
Williams,  •511-12.  W.  W.  Williams,  5«;8. 
A.  J.   Wilson,  •534-$.     H.  S,  Wood.  •388. 


Ixxii        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


C.  C.  Woolworth,  •mS.  F.  E.  Yates,  •siq. 
A.  YouDg)  *sa5.     I.  Zmertych,  551. 

JOURNAUSM  OP  THB  WhBBL. 

The  history  of  cycling  journals  and  books 
may  be  found  between  p.  653  and  p.  700,  and 
most  of  the  following  references  are  within 
those  limits, — full-faced  type  showing  the 
more-important  ones : 

Algemeine  SpoTt-Zeitung(Ger.),  697.  Ama- 
teur Athlete  (N.  Y.),  619-20, 667-8.  Ameri- 
can  Bicycling  Journal,  26, 504, 534, 643, 666-6, 
664,  687,  725.  American  Wheelman  (St. 
Louis),  528, 654,  671-8,  716,  799.  Archery  & 
Tennis  News,  663, 66S.  Archery  Field  (Bos- 
ton), 658^,  663, 668-9.  Athletic  New8(Eng.), 
693.  Athletic  News  &  Cyclists'  Journal 
(Eng.),  688.  Athletic  World  (Eng.),  688. 
Australasian,  696.  Australian  Cycling  News 
(Melbourne),  558,  562-5,  652,  654,  696-6, 
706.  Australian  Cyclist  (Sydney),  564,  696. 
Australian  Sports  &  Pastimes,  696.  Bicy- 
cle (Hamilton,  Ont.),  661.  Bicycle  (Mel- 
bourne), 695.  Bicycle  (Montgomery,  Ala.), 
660, 670.  Bicycle  (N.  Y.),  660.  Bicycle  & 
Tricycle  Gazette  (Eng.),  688.  Bicycle  Ga- 
zette (Eng.),  688.  Bicycle  Herald  (Spring- 
field, Ms.),  672.  Bicycle  Journal  (Eng.), 
687-8.    Bicycler's  Record  (I^wrence,   Ms.), 

660.  Bicycle  Rider's  M.igazine  (Eng.),  688. 
Bicycle  South  (New  Orleans),  654,  670, 672. 
Bicycling  News(Eng.),  541-2,  544,  548-9,  557, 
6S3,  6S7-8,  689-90,  693-5.  Bicycling  Times 
&  Touring  Gazette  (Eng.),  547-8,  688,  692. 
Bicycling  World  (Boston),  23,  27-9,  74,  92, 
101-2,  104-5,  >o7i  i>i>  iM>  131,  128,  150,  152, 
157, 161-2, 164, 171,  179,  i8t,  199,202,  214, 217, 
238,  249.  25»f  253»  *8i,  314,  322,  340,  487-9, 
492-3,  500,  503-4,  506,  508-12,  514,  517-18, 
522,  525-6,  530,  553,  573,  575A  578,  591,  600, 
602-4,  615-18,  629,  643-4,  656-9,  662-6,  666-7, 
669, 671-2,  673,  675,  677-80,  683-6,  684-5,  70*1 
704,  798.    California  Athlete  (San  Francisco), 

661,  688.  Canadian  Wheelman  (London, 
Ont.),  315,  319,  321,  3*6,  599,  635,  643,  654, 
660,  669-70,  707.  Cleveland  Mercur>'(0.), 
660.  Cycle  (Milford,  Ms.),  660,  666.  678. 
Cycle  (Boston),  664-6,  79S.  Cycling  (Cleve- 
land), 245,  5»6, 660.    Cycling  (Eng.),  68R-9, 

691.    Cycling  Budget  (Eng.),  .    Cycling 

Times  (Eng.),  6S6,  689, 798.  Cycli5t  (Eng.), 
534,  537.  540,  648-9,  551-2,  554, 568,  599, 684, 
687-94.    Cyclista(Hun.),697.    Cycliste  Beige 


(Bel.),  70a    Cyclist  &  Athlete  (N.  Y.),  663, 
666,  668-9.    C.  T.  C.  Gazette  (Eng.),  $99. 
636-44, 651-2,  6S7-S,  691,  694-5,  79S.    Cycles 
(Eng.),  688.     Elizabeth  Wheelmen  (N.  J.). 
660.     Field  (Eng.),  531.     Hamilton  Bicycle 
(Ont.),  661.     Hamilton   Wheel  Journal  (O.), 
660.     Illustrated  Sports  (Eng.),  695.     Ingle- 
side  (San  Francisco),  609,  661,  672.     Irish 
Cycling  &  Athletic  News  (Dublin),  654,  695. 
Irish  Cyclist  &  Athlete  (DuUin),  640,  652^ 
654,  696.    Ixion  (Eng.),  688.    Journal  des 
Sports  (Bel.),  700.     Land  &  Water  (Eng.), 
642,  695.    L.  A.  W.  Bulletin  (Phila.),  310-it, 
323,  3M,  500,  572,  578,  583-90,  594,  614,  618, 
620-21,  624-6,  629-30,  633,  63s,  654,  661, 
662,  665,  668,  674,   679,  707-8,    717,    720. 
Maandblad  (Dutch),  700.    Maine  Wheel,  661. 
Mechanic  (Smithville,  N.  J.),  522,  577,671. 
Melbourne    Bulletin  (Vict.),  696.     Midland 
Athletic  Star  &  Cycling  News  (Elig.),  688, 
695.     Mirror  of  American  Sports  (Chicago), 
672.    Monthly  Circular  of  C.  T.  C.  (Eng.). 
636,  691.     N.  C.  U.  Review  (Eng.),  648, 660. 
New  Haven    Bicycle  Herald,  660.     N.  Z. 
Referee,  696.    Olympia  (Eng.)  .    Out- 
ing (Boston),  105,  108, 114,  121,  149,  198,  244, 
279,  »82,  320,  323,  330,  474-8,  481-4.  504,  506, 
511,  512,  526,  534,    599,  600,  667-9,  674.5, 
678.    Outing  (N.  Y.),  571, 655,  669-60,  668. 
Pacific  Wheelman  (San  Francisco),  672,  799. 
Pastime  Gazette  (Chicago),  672.     Philadel- 
phia Cycling  Record,  245,  485,  522,  526,  660, 
674.     Radfahrer  (Ger.),  552,  651,  6S6-7,  798. 
Recreation  (Newark),  600,  654,  663,  668*9. 
Referee  (Eng.),——.     Revue  V^Iocip^diqae 
(Fr.),  69S.    Revista  Velocipedistica  (It.),  700. 
Revista  degli  Sports  (It.),  700.     Scottish  Ath- 
letic Journal,  695.    Scottish  Umpire  &  Cy- 
cling Mercury  (Glasgow),  695.     Southern  Cy- 
cler (Memphis,  Tenn.),  654,  670,  67a,  707. 
Spectator  (St.  Louis).  323,  672.     Sport  (/r.), 
695.    Sport  (It.),  700.    Sport  &  Play  (Eng.), 
695.     Sport    du    Midi,    699.      Sporting    & 
Theatrical  Journal  and  Western  Cycler  (Chi- 
cago), 672.    Sporting  Life  (Eng.),  693.   Sport- 
ing Life  (Phila.),  666,  672.     Sporting  Mirror 
(Eng.),    689.      Sportsman    (Pittsburg),  672. 
Sportsman  (Eng.),  686.     Sport  V^locipMique 
(Fr.),  651,  698.     Springfield  Wheelmen's  Ga^ 
lette,  42,  64,  129.  255i  a9t.  323.  333.  353.  37". 
39»,  485.  487.  49».  49S  5o'»  5»9.  524.  S88,  603, 
605.  610,  660,  661-2,  668,  676,  693,    706-7. 
Stahlrad(Ger.),7oo.  Star  Advocate  (E.  Roch- 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxiii 


r,  N.  H.),  5*5.  S79i  654-5»  070-1,  707. 
Stsel  Wheel  (Ger.),  700.  Tidning  for  Idrott 
(Swe.)»  700.  Tireur  (Fr.),  699.  Tricycling 
Journal  (Eng.),  545,  600,  654,  685-6,  680-1. 
Tricydist  (Eng.),  543-4,  547.  5SS.  654,  686, 
680,693.  Vdlo(Fr.),699.  Viloc^  (Fr.),  699. 
Vflocs  Beige  (Bel.),  699.  Viloceman  (Fr.), 
699.  Vdloca  SporKFr.),  639.  V^loce  Sport 
et  Viloceman  R^uinis,  xcii.  Velociped  (Ger. ), 
*5'»  697.  Vdlocip&dc  (Grenoble,  Fr.),  699. 
VflodpMe  (Paris,  Fr.),  698.  VflocipWe  11- 
lustri  (Fr.),  69S.  Vdlocip^die  Beige  (Bel.), 
699.  Vdlocip^ic  lUustric  (Fr.),  698.  Ve- 
lodpedist  (N.  Y.),  698.  Velocipedisl  (Ger.), 
697.  Velodpedsport  (Ger.),  697, 699.  Veloci- 
pede (Sp.),  700.  V^!o  Pyr^n^en  (Fr.),  651, 
699.  Vermont  Bicycle  (W.  Randolph),  578, 
654,073.  Vitesse  (Fr.),  699.  Wayfarer  (Eng.), 
xdi.  Western  'Cyc'.ist  (Ovid,  Mich.),  660, 
669,  67a.  Wheel  (N.  v.),  S3,  74,  93.  96,  109, 
114,  «S,  138, 154,  161,  164,  187,  i97.2>S.2»7» 
144,  J20,  326,  341,  382,  487,  489,  492-3,  500, 

5<«,  S04,  5«7.  523.  529.  56S,  574-5.  583.  5S5A 
589-90, 604-7. 010, 643.  066-7, 669,  699,  704-5, 
707,  70S,  712,  799.  Wheeling  (Eng.),  524, 
538.  547-8,  553-5.  5^4,  57*.  602,  628-9,  639-4 », 
647-51,  662,  6S3-4,  636,  689-90,  693-5,  700, 
707.  719.  79S-  Wheel  Life  (Eng.),  690-92, 
694,  706.  Wheelman  (Boston),  1,  24-5,  30, 
33.  J5-6,  42,  49.  62,  82,  106,  lis,  «39-4o,  155. 
159,  2oS^.  324, 246,  255,  258, 268,  270,277, 
«7»,  296,  314,  348,  3S8,  390.  399.  495,  504, 
506.7,  5»2-x5.  5»7-»8,  522-3,  555,  631,  656-9, 
661, 672, 679, 695,  699,  702,  703,  720.  Wheel- 
men's Gaxette  (Springfield),  '558,  559,  561, 
566,  579,  6x7-18,  619,  631,  654,  662,  674, 
706-7,  708- to,  799.  Wheelmen's  Record 
(Indianapolis),  xcii.  Wheel  World  (Eng.), 
3)o.  475.  548.  647.  657,  6S5,  688,  689-91, 692, 
694,  79S.    Yale  Cyclist,  660. 

Editors^  'ttfriterst  artists,  puNishers  and 
prsMters  0/  the  foregoing :  American  News 
Co.,  660,  669.  G.  Atkinson,  693.  J.  De* 
Arieste,  xcii.  J.  W.  Auten,  668.  H.  C. 
Bagot,  6 A  Baird  &  Co.,  668.  H.  S.  Bale, 
696.  J.  W.  Barnes,  66S-9.  H.  A.  Barrow, 
689.  k.  B.isiIone,  700.  A.  Bassett,  663-5, 
704,  708.  L.  J.  Bates,  506,  657,  673.  S, 
Baxter,  600,  657.  N.  M.  Beckwhh,  666-7. 
B.  Benjamin,  661.  Bicycling  World  Co.,  664, 
685.  C.  A.  Biederman,  661.  P.  Bigelow, 
657-9U  B.  Bonami,  697.  J.  S.  Brierley,  669. 
W.  A.  Bryant,  667.    E.  H.  Burn,  695.    (Miss) 


M.  H.  Catherwood,  657.    Central  Press  & 

Pub.  Co.,  666.     Chatto&  Windus, .     h. 

Clegg,  689.  W.  F.  CoflFee,  jr.,  668.  W.  Cole, 
650.  E.  R.  Collins,  668-9.  J*  Copland,  696. 
C.  Cordingley,  691.  Cordingley  &  Sharp,  691. 
E.  H.  Corson,  670-1.  Cycling  Pub.  Co., 
666-7.  Cyclist  Printing  Co.,  668.  P.  C.  & 
G.  S.  Darrow,  xcii.  J.  S.  Dean,  663-4.  E. 
De  Gline,  700.  P.  De  Villiers,  699.  J.  B. 
Dignam,  669.  B.  W.  Dinsmorc  &  Co  ,  666. 
C.  R.  Dodge,  657.  H.  B.  Donly,  669.  H. 
E.  Ducker,  661-2, 706-7.  H.  O.  Duncan,  699. 
C.  Drury,  688.  W.  G.  Eakins,  669.*  T.  A. 
Edwards,  695-6.  F.  A.  Egan,  667.  A.  Ely, 
jr.,  660.  H.  Etherincton,  689-90,  692-3. 
Evangelist  Co.,  672.  W.  K..  Evans,  669.  V. 
Fenoglio,  700.  C.  H.  Fisher,  660.  Fleming, 
Brewster  &  Alley,  657.  E.  Forestier,  698. 
S.  C.  Foster,  667.  C.  W.  Fourdrinier,  663, 
665.    C.  J.  Fox,  688,  693.    T.   F.  Garrett, 

688.  C.  V-  Genslinger,  670.  A.  Gibbons,  691. 
A.  H.  Gibbes,  668.  W.  E.  Gilman,  663-5. 
W.  V.  Gilman,  666.  P.  (Jornall,  696.  H. 
H.  Griffin,  6^9-90.  L.  Harrison,  663-4.  C. 
E.  Hawley,  658.  Hay,  Nisbet  &  Co.,  695. 
G.  L.  Hillier,  547-8,  6S9-90,  693-4.  E.  C. 
Hodges  &  Co.,  664.  J.  G.  Hodgins,  695. 
J.  R.  Hogg,  628,  695.  C.  J.  Howard,  666-7. 
W.  B.  Howland,  656-9.  E.  W.  Hunter,  670. 
Iliff.*  &  Son,  548,  6S9-92.  Iliff.:  &  Stur- 
mey,  690.  J.  Inwards,  689.  L.  G.  Jacques, 
698.     F.  Jenkins,  666-7,  704-8.     H.  A.  Judd, 

689,  692.  H.  A.  King,  672.  W.  C.  King, 
698.  K.  Kron,  720.  D.  M.  Kurtz,  668.  L. 
C.  S.  Ladish,  671.  C.  Langer,  697.  P.  B. 
Lansing,  656.  M.  Lazare,  666.  W.  H. 
Lewis,  652,  696.  E.  A.  Lloyd,  690.  F.  P. 
Low,  548,  689-90,  693.  S.  Low,  Marston  & 
Co.,  659.  W.  McCandlish,  6S9-90.  J.  F. 
McGure,  656^.  S.  S.  McClure,  656-9.  J.C. 
McKenzie,  660.  G.  D.  McNathan,67o.  R. 
J.  Macredy,  652,  695.  W.  McWilliam,  548, 
689,  693.  C.  O.  Manny,  666.  W.  C.  Mar- 
vin, 660.  C.  L.  Meyers,  668.  S.  Miles,  672. 
G.  Moore,  69a,  T.  Moore,  548,  689-90,  693. 
A.  G.  Morrison,  690, 693.  F.  X.  Mudd,  660. 
A.  Mudge  &  Son,  663-4.  C.  W.  Nairn,  689-90, 
692.  H.  E.  Nelson,  660.  E.  Oliver,  666. 
W.  N.  Oliver  &  Co.,  666.  Oliver  &  Jenkins, 
666.7.  M.  M.  Osborne,  660.  Outing  Co., 
659.  H^^i^,  698.  F.  Pagnioud,  699.  A. 
Pj-"'-  '"^  Palton,  670.     R.  L. 

656.9.     Picker- 


Ixxiv        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ing  &  Davis,  69S.  R.  H.  Polk,  660.  A.  A. 
Pope,  659.  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  657-9.  C.  £. 
Pratt,  656-9,  663-4,  667.  F.  P.  Prial,  666. 
C.  W.  Reed,  655,  658.  C.  S.  Reeves,  660. 
F.  M.  Rittingcr,  697.  Rockwell  &  Churchill, 
656.  J.  S.  Rogers,  671.  T.  Roosevelt,  657, 
660.  £.  J.  Schmied,  697.  E.  R.  Shipton,  691. 
V.  Silbcrer,  697.  C.  B.  Smith,  691.  C.  F. 
Smith,  xcii.  J.  T.  Smith,  671.  H.B.Smith 
Machine  Co.,  671.  Springfield  Print.  Co.  ,661- 
2, 675.  W.  J.  Spurrier,  6SS.  T.  Stevens,  655. 
W.  F.  Stone,  65 1.  H.  Sturmey,  690, 692.  L. 
Suberbic,  699.  W.  L.  Surprise,  670.  L.  P. 
Thayer,  672.  W.  H.  Thompson,  663.  H.  S. 
Tibbs,  669.  C.  Toscani,  700.  Tonnet,  699. 
C.  H.  Townsend,  669.  C.  Trocdel  &  Co., 
696.  T.  H.  S.  Walker,  697.  W.  D.  VVel- 
ford,  638,  691.  F.  W.  Weston,  653,  655, 
663-4.  A.  D.  Wheeler,  666-7.  VVheelman 
Co.,  656-3.  Wheel  Pub.  Co.,  666.  J.  Wil- 
cox,  666.  B.  Williams,  693.  A.  J.  Wilson, 
690,  653.  W.  M.  Wright,  65o,  665.  Vaux  & 
Co.,  666. 

'*  Literature  of  the  Wheel,"  C58-700. 

A.  B.  C.  of  Bicycling,  655,  678.  Abridg- 
ment of  Velocipede  Specifications,  550.  Ad- 
vantages of  Cycling,  67S.  Agent's  Guide, 
The,  679,  685.  Almanach  des  Velocipedes 
for  '69,  69S.  Almanach  du  Vdlocip^e  for 
'7c>-'7i,  693.  Almanach  Illustride  la  Veloci- 
pddie  pour  '84,  699.  Amateur  Bicycle  Re- 
painiig,  678.  American  Bicycler,  The,  504, 
672,703.  Annuaire  de  1.1  Velocipddia  Pra- 
tique, 699.  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle, 
474»  65s,  657,  698.  Athhtes,  Training  for 
Amateur,  6S4.  Athletic  Club  Directory  for 
*S2, 688.  Australian  Cydbts*  Annual,  The, 
696.  Australian  Tour  on  Cycles,  An,  565, 
tx^.  Autograph  Book,  Palmer's,  687.  Bet- 
ting Law/ Cyclists*  Liabilities  as  regards  the, 
69$.  Bicycle  Annual  for  *8o,  The,  686,  693. 
Bicycie-Buch,  697.  Bicycle  for  '74,  The,  687. 
Bicycle,  The  Modem,  685.  Bicycle,  A 
Pock.f t  Manual  of  the,  687.  Bicycle  Primer, 
679,  BIcyc!e  Ride  from  Russia,  A,  6S7.  Bi- 
cycle Road  Book,  685.  Bicycle  Tactics,  615, 
679.  Bicycle  Tour  in  England  and  Wales,  A, 
fyi\.  Bicyding,  Complete  Guide  to,  684.  Bi- 
cycisU*  Pocket- Book  ?.nd  Diary  for  '78,  687. 
Blank  Road-Book,  676.  Boston  Road-Book, 
655.  Brit ^h  Hi^h  Roads.  686.  Bugle  Calls, 
679.    Bundes-Almanach,  697.     Canadian  W. 


A.  Guide,  315-6,  319,  326-7,  330-1,  655,677 
Canterbury   Pilgrimage,   A,    530,   655,    6S7. 
Cape  Ann,  In  and  Around,  655,  674.     Chest- 
nuts (/^^^//ir^'x  Christmas  issue  of  '86), . 

Clipper  Almanac,  41^4,  680.  Club  Directory, 
Goy's  Athletic,  688.  Club  Songs,  655.  Co- 
lumbia Calendars,  679-So.  Columbia  Testi- 
monials and  Scrap  Book,  678.  Cunnectiait 
Rond-Book,  582,  677.  Construction  of  Mod- 
em Cycles,  On  the,  6S3.  Construction  of  the 
Tricyde,  A  Treatise  on  the  Theoretical  and 
Practical,  683.  C.  T.  C.  Handbook  and 
Guide  for  '86,  598-9,  607,  687.  C.  T.  C. 
Renewals-List  for  '85, 6S7.  Cycle  Directory, 
The,687.  Cycledom  ( Cyclist^ s  Christmas  issue 
of  '86),  xdv.  CyclUt  and  Wheel  World  An- 
nual, 693.     Cyclists'  Guide  to  Nottingham, 

685.  Cyclist's  Guide  to  the  Roads  of  the 
Lake  District  and  Isle  of  Man,  O87.  Cy- 
clist's Pocket-Book  and  Diary,  6S5.  Cyclists, 
The  Rights  and  Liabilities  of,  684.  Cyclists* 
Route  Book,  The,  684.  Cyclist's  Touring 
and  Road  Guide,  The,  684,  685.  Cyclonia,  A 
Journey  through  {Cyclists  Christmas  issue  of 
'85),  534, 692.  Cydos,  684.  Dublin,  A  Racing 
Trip  to,  xciv.  Emerald  Isle,  Two  Trips  to 
the,  xdv.  England  and  Wales,  A  Bicycle 
Tour  in,  673.  Essai  ih^orique  et  pratique  sur 
le  v^hicule  Bicycle,  698.  Essex  Co.,  Ms., 
Wheelman's  Handbook  of,  112,  655,  677. 
Forty  Poets  on  the  Wheel,  505,  655,  674. 
France,  Le  Guide  en,  699.     Golden  Rules  of 

Training,  The,  685.     Great  S ,  The  (C>- 

r//>/'j  Christmas  issue  of  '85),  692.  Guard- 
ians, The,  688.  Guide  to  Bicycling,  The 
Complete,  684.  Guide  to  Machines  and 
Makers,  xcv.       Guide  to  Norih-West  Kent, 

686.  Guide  to  Tricyding,  Penny,  686.  Hand- 
buch  des  Bicycle-Sport,  697.  Health  upon 
Wheels,  684.  He  would  be  a  Bicyclist,  688. 
Holland,  N.  V.  B.  Official  Road-book  of, 
700.  Holyhead  to  London  on  Tricjrdes, 
From,  686.  How  to  ride  a  Cycle,  684.  Hotel 
Charges  Directory,  685.  Hygiene  du  V^lod- 
pide,  698.  Icydes  {Whrel  WorltTs  Christ- 
mas issue  of  '80),  692.  In  and  Around  Cape 
Ann,  655,  674.  Indispensable  Bicyclist's 
Handbook,  The,  685.  Instmctions  to  Wheel- 
men, 678.  Itiliani,  Statuto  della  Sodeta 
Ciclisti,  700.     Italy  on  a  Tricyde,  Through. 

687.  Ireland,  Two  Trips  to, .     Kentucky 

Road-Book,  590,  678.  Killamey,  A  Touring 
Trip  to, .     Lake  District  and  the  Isle  of 


Ixxvi        TEN  THOUSAND  MIDES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


A  Hthorsy  compilers  t  piMishers  atid Printers 
0/  the  foregoing :  F.  Allier,  698.  A.  L.  At- 
kins, 111,635,  677.  Ballantyne  Press,  The, 
6S6.   A.  B.  liarkman,  655.     C.  D.  Batchelder, 

676.  E.  Benassit,  69S.  A.  Berruyer,  698.  C. 
H.  Bingham,  700.  A.  M.  Bolton,  549,  683. 
G.  F.  Brooks,  679.  J.  S.  Browning,  655.  C. 
W.  Bryan  &  Co.,  700.  H.  Buchanan,  686. 
W.  S.  Bull,  231, 677.     J.  P.  Burhank,  16,673, 

677.  (Lord)  Bury,  687.  Cassell  &  Co.,  687. 
A.  D.  Chandler,  673.  G.  Chinn,  655, 677.  J. 
C.  Cbrk,  679.  R.  Clarke  &  Co.,  678.  W. 
Collins,  Son  &  Co.,  683.  R.  Cook,  6S7. 
C.  Cordinglsy,  636.  H.  D.  Corey,  679.  E. 
H.  Corson,  655,  671.  H.  L.  Cortis,  684.  T. 
Coventry  &  Co.,  683.  Cunningham  Co.,  The, 
653*  679.  Cupples,  Upham  &  Co.,  655.  J. 
G.  Dalton,  503,  635.  A.  De  Baroncelli,  688, 
69S-9.  W.  Diederich,  679.  H.  B.  Donly,  655, 
677.  Ducker  &  Goodman,  615, 655, 675.  N. 
F.  Duncan,  6S7.  Durrant  &  Co.,  687.  G. 
Ernst,  697.  (Miss)  F.  J.  Erskine,  6S4.  U. 
Etherington,  685.  Falconer,  686.  A.  Favre, 
698.  S.  C.  Foster,  655,  674, 679.  C.  J.  Fox, 
686.  S.  Fusse'il,  685.  J.  T.  Goddard,  402, 
673,  68S.  Goy,  688.  L.  U.  Gill,  683.  H. 
H.  Griffin,  683.  Griffith  &  Farran,  685. 
Hamilton,  Adams  &  Co.,  687.  Hammer- 
smith Printing  Works,  686.  E.  S.  Hart  & 
Co.,  655,  674,  H.  B.  Hart,  655,  660,  678. 
J.  R.  Heard,  679.  W.  H.  Heath,  685.  A. 
S.  Hibbard,  655, 674.  G.  L.  Hillier,  687.  E. 
C.  Hodges  &  Co.,  674.  C.  Howard,  550,  681. 
C.  Hubbard,  696.    C.   G.  Huntington,  582, 

677.  lliffe  &  Son,  683-7.  "  Ixion,"  688. 
L.  G.  Jacques,  69S.  Jacquot,  699.  Jarrold 
&  Son,  6S3.  F.  Jenkins,  677.  J.  H.  John- 
son, 677.  F.  W.  Jones,  683-4.  H.  A.  Judd, 
685.  "  Jupiter,"  688.  A.  Kenmann,  657. 
H.  Kendall,  686.  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick,  677. 
A.  H.  Lang,  686.  Lee  &  Walker,  679.  V. 
Leger,  699.  J.  Lennox,  686.  Letts,  Son  & 
Co. ,  681-2.  Little,  Brown  &  Co. ,  680.  Long- 
man &  Co.,  6S7.  J.  N.  McClintock,  680. 
(Mrs.)  F.  T.  McCray,  635, 674.  A.  H.  Mac- 
Owen,  635, 674.  Mason  &  Payne,  6S1-2.  J. 
Menziss  &  Co.,  686.  W.  L.  Mershon  & 
Co.,  678.  T.  S.  Miller,  653,  679.  A.  G. 
Morrison,  693.  G.  Moore,  692.  F.  Moore, 
685.     Morris  Bros.,  683.     P.  N.  Myers,  390, 

678.  C.  W.  Nairn,  6S6,  692.  "  Nauticns," 
684.  E.  Neve,  686.  "  Old  Wheelman,"  678. 
Overman  Wheel  Co.,  676,  6.'9.    C.  A.  Pal- 


mer, 687.    A.  Palmer  &  Sons,  687.    H.  Park, 
678.    J.  Pearcs,  686.    M.  D.   Pellencontre, 
698.    J.   PenneU,  655,  687.    (Mrs.)   E.   R. 
Pennell,  653,  687.     L.    G.    Perreaux,  69S. 
G.  Phillip  &  Son,  682.    R.  E.  Phillips,  550, 
6391   683.      Pope  Manufacturing   Co.,  678. 
L.  H.  Porter,  530,  678.     B.  W.  Potter,  68a 
Charles  E.  Pratt,  304,   672,  678,  688,  703. 
F.  A.  Pratt,  625,  678.    "Rae  Banks,"  636. 
Rand,  Avery  &  Co.,  674.    J.  M.  Raukine, 
698.     F.   Regarasy,  698.    H.   R.  Reynolds, 
k-f  533 •  ^^-     Richard,  698.    C.   M.  Rich- 
ards, 678.    B.  W.  Richardson,  62, 6S5.    Rob- 
erts Bros.,  687.    Rockwell  &  Churchill,  656. 
672,  679.     Root  &  Tinker,  680.     Will  Rose, 
489.     H.  T.  Round,  687.    J.  P.  Russell,  696. 
H.   N.   Sawyer,  679.    C.    Scribner's  Sons, 
655,  687.    Seeley  &  Co.,  687.     E.  M.  Sen- 
seney,  677.    J.  C.   Sharp,  jr.,  673.     E.   R. 
Shipton,  687.     W.  S.  Y.  Shuttle  worth,  687. 
V.  Silbsrcr,  697.    (Miss)   E.  L.  Smith,  655, 
674.     L  Snow  &  Co.,  687.     C.  Sp2nc3r,  685, 
687.     Springfield  Printing  Co.,  675, 710.     W. 
J.  Spurrier,  684,683.    W.  G.  Stables,  6S4.    T. 
Stevens,  473-84,  655,  637.     Stoddard,  Lover- 
ing  &  Co.,  679.     Strand  Pub.  Co.,  683.     H. 
Sturmey,    684,    685.    G.    B.   Thayer,    576. 
•'  Velox,"  688.    T.  H.  S.  Walker,  651,  697. 
F.  Warne  &  Co.,  685.    J.  S.   Webber,  jr., 
655,  674.     W.  D.  WeUord,  687.     F.  W.  Wes- 
ton,  676.     "  Chris  Wheeler,"  655,  674.     W. 
H.  Wheeler,  650.     White,  Stokes  &  Allen, 
65s,  674.    C.  H.  Whiting,  676.    J.  Wilkin- 
son Co.,  The,  677.     A.  Williams  &  Co.,  673. 
J.  A.  Williamson,  684.     A.  J.  Wilson,  534, 
693.    H.  S.  Wood,  177, 676-7.    T.  H.  Wright, 
677.    A.   Young,  655,  679.    G.  E,  Young, 
686. 

NON-CYCUNG  Bootes. 

Adirondacks,  Illustrated  Guide  to  the,  1S6. 
American  Literature,  Cydopxdia  of,  434,  439. 
Agriculture  of  Mass.,  679.  Among  the  Stu- 
dios, 431.  Androscoggin  Lake  and  Head- 
waters  of  Conn.,  575.  Atlantic  Islands,  355. 
Australia,  The  "New  Chum  "  in,  570.  Aus- 
tralian Pictures,  570,  Baddeck,  286-7.  Bart- 
lett,  Memoir  of  Gen.  W.  F.,  386.  Berkshire, 
The  Book  of,  700.  Bermuda,  An  Idyl  of  the 
Summrr  Islands,  366.  Bermuda,  History  of, 
335.  Bermuda,  Illustrated  Guide  to,  366. 
Bermuda  Pocket  Almanac,  366-7.  Bleak 
House,  466.  Boston,  Dictionary  of,  113. 
Boston,  Handbook  of,  113.     Boston  Harbor, 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


b:xvii 


^  jDumaliiir,  A  Hiilory  of,  b%%.  Conn. 
ViUc,  m  Mau.,  Hii>.  d[  Ihc,  jSi.  Dc- 
•oiixin  Aincricii.  ifj.  Diseam  ol  Uodcm 
Ule,  Ms.  Escfdopedia  BriliiintQ.  6S!t, 
Field  BodIl  of  ihe  American  Revolulion, 
•jaa.  Field  Book  af  Ihe  War  ol  e^ei,  700. 
FoacVeU3aiy>1e,v>s,7M,7>3.  Geolosisl 
ol  New  Jeney,  Repon  for  >«4  of  the  Siale, 
.,t  Cra(.onC«.ni,Ga«lice.,S77,  Grani'» 
McEiHiiii,  7J1.  Harvard  and  ill  Surroutid- 
inp,  11].  How  ID  Pa;  Cliurch  Dcbis,  jij. 
Hudson  Rixr  by  Fen  aiid  PsEicil,  19S. 
Hunan  lni;rcoiinc,  ««,  46S-9.  Humitig 
Tript  ola  RaiKhisui,  4;;.  Intellectual  Ule, 
Tbc.  467.3.  Lake  CeOEiire,  llloU.  Guide  to, 
■  gj.6.  Liberly,  EqimHtT.  Fnlemity.  7]]. 
London  Social  Life,  Impreuioni  ol,  449. 
Lutbeian  Vcar  Book,  31}.  Marilime  Prot- 
mce*.  The,  19).  Methodiit  Year  Book,  jif. 
Middle  Slaies,  Guide  10,  »«,  Minme  Phi- 
kwpfaer,  loS.  Modern  GymniH,  The,(»j. 
UooKhead  Lake  and  N.  Me.  Wildetne», 
%■]%.  Ml  Desert  on  the  CoaM  of  Mc.iai. 
Naiy  in  the  Civil  War,  The,  jji.  New 
England,  Guide  10,  .93.  New  York,  Dit- 
Evnafy  ol,  6j,  Si,  S7,  »g,  46,  loa,  ej;.  New 
York,  Hisl.  of  the  City  of,  434.  I^otei  of  an 
Idle  Eicunion,  }S&  Open  Leller  la  J.  G. 
Hdla.Hl,An,7I».  Piclureaque  America,  3S], 
414,  TOO.  Piclunaque  B.  &  O  ,  n;,  iSi. 
Rcli^on,  Mr.  7>9.  Koughlng  It.  it.  S^ra. 
loci,  lllust.Cuideto.iSi.  Shenandoah  Vj]. 
ley  in  1U4,  346,  ]s>.  Splil  Zephyr,  4O6. 
SfiriBsfield,  Handbmk  ol,  ei),  116.  Stolen 
Whiu  Elegihant,  356.  Sloriei  by  Ameiicin 
Authors.  46b,  Taimanian  Eicurumiii'i 
Guide.  s&].  Their  Wedding  Journey,  iis, 
4it.  ThankleH  Muse.  The,  jji.  Traveler, 
The.  iv.  U.  S.  Army  Table  ol  Dittancn, 
Mo.  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  »].  ViiiU  to  Re- 
mnUble  Placet,  404.  Vale  and  the  City  ol 
Elm>,T}}.  Vale,Fauryeanal,4o;,7it,7i]. 
Walking  Guide  lo  Ml.  Wuhinglon  Range, 
iTt.  Wafhinpon  Square,  4j.,  We.tem 
Ham,  Hilt,  ol,  s<'.  White  Mtn,  Cuidei, 
ig3.j77.  Winihrop,  Lifaand  Poemiof  Theo- 
dore, 439. 

NoH^vctiHO  Authors. 

T.  R  Aldrich,  4JI.    D,  Ammen,  jji.    G. 

Arnold,    I],    30},    yiO.     E.   U.   Bacon,    EI]. 


S,  G.  W. 


H.  A.  Been,  466,  7 
3».  483.  W.  H.  Biihop,  4j,,  71S.  c,  A 
Briued,  717-S.  L.  P,  Bruckelt.  ,77.  t,  W 
Bryan,  700.  W.  C.  Bryanl,  ..(.,  700.  O. 
B.  Bonce,  TOO.  H.  C.  Buituer,  717  C  S, 
Calverley,  34.  A.Uary,7j,,  H.  Uiild,  5,7 
M.  H.  Li«,  3J..  p.  Oartie,  S7D  G,  H 
Cook,  174.  J.  F.  Cowan,  ja,.  W,  Cow|>ri. 
406.  J.  D.  Coi,  3SI.  W.  Decrow,  133.  ij 
Deloe,  V.  C.  Ihcken.,  jj,,  466,  ,14.  J  , 
R.  Dorr,  366.  A.  Doobleday,  351.  t.  a 
Duyckinck,  434, 4J>    T.  D-iglii,  i!j.    b<- 

L.H.  E.^n.,S8i.    C.  A.  J.  Fan«^.  575'    M. 


F,  For< 


.    B.  FraoUin, 


U.  S.  ( 


.    Gudel, 


.  446,    46%**    J,  C,   Harri.,  ." 

.4.  3»o. 

IL  Herrick.  471.    J.  C.  Ho)iai^' 

S3i.    7.S. 

W.  D,   Howell.,  3.S,  „S     W 

0,-    A.  A.  Humphrey.,  jjj.     II 

H.  Jacki 

m.  30(.     H.  JamM,4)>.     S,  Joh.,. 

Km.  40S 

*'7.  4J6.  7S(.     F.   KemUe.  „". 

M.  King 

iij,  i]«.     M.  J.  Umb.  414     A 

Lang, 7,, 

H.  W.  Longfellow,  4JO.     H  J 

LoMing. 

TO>.    J.  F.  McOure,  658,    A.  T 

Mahin, 

iJ.    C    B.   Manin,  iKi,     J,    A 

Me 

253-4. 

A 

fa-y   J 

■hly,  Do 

Bat, 

me,  ssa 

19S 

Centur 

-r    rSAXD  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


*  X.-         "  J  ^•»    *     -  i=sS  rempenince 

-,  "v*    V  \  .  «44,6So.    Con- 

^    ».  V  •«  TT,  Loadon,  687. 

'  .     »  vt  .     5^1-1.    Courier, 

•  ■  .  \  *<!^     v.\*urier,   Rochester, 

\^     N  w   V  r  •*-ci.  X.  Y.,  177.     Di»- 

•»-  •  1     i,«      fc»ettius  News,  Des- 

\.'  •  "v*    LccKion,  551,  711.    Ex- 

,.%,     •    i'i.»    \    \  »  $33.     Frank  Leslie's 

- 4   .       •.•.  S    v..  513.     Free  Press, 

V  ..      •»,   >>,>•»  .   55c    G^sntlemcu's   Maga- 

•%•    '.    r*;-    CUobe,    Boston,    618. 

» •  »i  A  ■ 'x^  Ls'u.Uhi^  64,  63$.  Harper's 
'^^  »  V  '  •  \  N  \  .  »s^»«*«  Harper's  Weekly, 
S   ^      f'v'-    r**-*.  4:5.  4^3-    Harper's  Young 

*  »• '       \   \  ,r.i5.     Herald,  Auckland,  567. 

»  '\.»   t**»<xv»»   114.  Herald,  N.   Y.,  497, 

K^.     *<--     H^raU,  Rochester,  ai6.     Herald 

v^  \  »*^  W    KAndolph,  Vl.,  67a.     Journal, 

,-  >x-v-  • .  O  u. ,  6<S  ^    Journal  &  Courier,  New 

^.,...  ti'^4oi.  Knickerbocker  Magazine, 
N  \  .  j«.N  Knox  Student,  Galesburg,  658. 
.  -x*  vi>>rs:«  Ripple,  N.  Y.,  198.  Lippin- 
OS  \   M*;A>.ine,    Phila.,    1,    16S,  65S,   70a. 

V  •  ,Ktv«or*s  (Jaictte,  Boston,  525.  Mes- 
««  ^  '.  \lAtl>hhjad,  Ms.,  281.  Massachu- 
«-«  -^  MuAiine,  IUmIoii,  6S0.  Mrs.  Grundy, 
S  \  \%  .  ^  Morning  Call,  San  Francisco, 
,.sv  Saihw,  N.  Y.,  aSi,  354,  433»  437.  45o» 
i>-vM|  New*, Chjlstsa,  535.  News,  Hain- 
S :  •«,  ^^^^r.^  551.  News  &  Chronicle,  Stawell, 
Xv;  ,  «*^,  N*^  Norfolk  Reformer,  Simcoe, 
x^.M  ,  j3«,  6.n»  ^'^     Northwestern  Christian 

K,\vv^tc,  ChicAgo,  499'  Once  a  Month, 
M  » NMinxc,  %*^.  Our  Young  Folks,  Boston, 
*tt  relit  Journal,  Paris,  6;7.  Pilot,  Bos- 
t.N*.,  ^\:.  IV)**!  &  Tribune,  Detroit,  505. 
r».^st  nisp^fch,  St.  Louis,  528.  Press,  Phila- 
A  -'  ^^i\»  454.  P"ck,  N.  Y.,  15,  36,  246,  407, 
^'>>,^^>.  ft?3.  Record,  Phila.,  627.  Refor- 
m- ',  Hennington,  Vl.,  627.  Republican, 
\  v-^irc,  Mich.,  505.  Republican,  Spring- 
f\  •  a.  M*  .115,  5*7.  Royal  Gazette,  Bennuda, 
^«.V  Ronnd  Tabb,  N.  Y.,  135-  Saturday 
l^•t**^  N    v.,  15.     Scientific  American,  N. 

V  .  4<^S.  ScribnerS  Monthly,  N.  Y.,  43 ». 
To«.  <Si?'*.  St.imboul  Journal,  Constantinople, 
4S»  StAtt^man,  Marshall,  Mich.,  323.  Siu- 
^^wt,  Amherst,  Ms.,  114-  Sun,  N.  Y.,  1541 
f,^j  TaWc  Talk,  Ottumwa,  la.,  67a.  Tas- 
maman  News,  563.  Telegram,  N.  Y.,  280. 
Tex**  Sittings,  668.  Times,  Calais,  Me., 
t6s.     Times,   N.  Y.,  ii.,  35*1  459-    Times, 


Philadelpiiiai,  177.  Tiroes,  Sydney.  N.  S. 
W.,  69S.  Til  Bits,  Loodon,  xdv.  Tooth- 
pick, Ashasore,  IlL,  4S9.  Transcript,  Port- 
land, 237,  6x7.  Tribune,  Cambridge,  657. 
Tribune,  Chka^o»  323.  Tribune,  N.  Y., 
497»  577.  7*4,  7*'.  UnLoo,  Spnngfiekl,  Ms., 
58a  University  Quaneriy,  N.  Y.,  469.  Van- 
ity Fair,  N.  Y..  444.  Vale  Courant,  New 
Haven,  398^  Yale  Literary  Magazine,  New 
Haven,  399-403.     World,  N.  Y.,  5S4,  720-1, 

Bicvci^ss. 

American  Club,  509.  American  Radge, 
50S.  Arab  Light  Rogulster,  535.  Apollo 
Light  Roadster,  321.  Ariel,  504,  519,  541, 
546-7.  Bayliss  &  Thomas,  348.  Bone-shak- 
ers, 394,  400-2.  British  Challenge,  183,  508, 
S»o.  S43»  5«5.  557.  5^«t  569-  Carver,  503. 
Centaur,  523.  Challenge,  330,  S37-  Club, 
505.  50S.  5*3.  5^5.  569-  Club  Safety,  566. 
Columbia,  148,  189,  324,  487,  501,  505,  507, 
511,  520,  521,  524,  5»5.  5^5.  709.  7«2-3-  Co- 
lumbia  Expert,  47,  59,  149,  237,  244.  388, 474, 
484. 49a .  503.  506, 50S,  510-11,  513,  5i7>5i9->o, 
523-30, 575-6,  578.  Columbia  Light  Roadster, 
527-9.  "  Columbia,  Number  234,"  35-48, 
86.  Columbia  Special,  503,  507-8,  511,  520, 
521.  Columbia  Standaixi,  48,  59,  1S3,  244, 
378,  474.  4S4,  458-9,  494.  5«>.  503.  508.  5>». 
5»3,  5*5.  5«9,  5^3.  5*8-9.  576-  Coventry.  330. 
Coventry  Geatleman,  537.  Coventry  Ma- 
chinist Co.,  663.  Cunningham  Co.,  653, 656, 
666-7,  679.  7 '3.  Desideratum,  537.  D.  £. 
H.  F.  Excelsior,  546,  5G9.  D.  E.  H.  F. 
Premier,  519,  559,  561,  569.  Duplex  Excel- 
sior, 517,  524,  546.  Eclijise,  541,  547.  Kx- 
traordinary,  4S7,  505.  Facile,  161,  509,  536, 
537.  53S.  553,  551.  555-  Gentleman.  ^. 
Gentleman's  Club,  569.  Gentleman's  Road- 
ster, 542.  Gormully  &  Je£Fery,  6S3,,798. 
Hartford,  401.  Harvard,  138,  1S9,  493,  502, 
508,  520,  524.  Hollow  Spoke  Roadster,  54a. 
Howe,  552.  H umber,  509,  516,  517,  524,  54a. 
Idea^  493.  Interchangeable,  546.  Invioci- 
We.  5»7.  557.  Ivel  Safety,  557-S.  John 
Bull,  507.  Kangaroo,  508-9.  Keen,  547. 
Lynn  Express,  537.  Matchless,  50S,  532, 
563.  Monod,  401.  Newton  Challei^ie,  50^. 
Otto,  521,  529.  Overman  Wheel  Ox,  ftSa, 
663-5,  676.  Paragon,  504,  517.  Perfection, 
546,  Pickering,  392,  4oo-S-  Poor  Star,  50^ 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  24-6,  36,  40,  42,  47A  »,  94- 
«39.  »89»  4S5.  5o«-»f  S«  «•  5a3»  S>*.  S^S.  ^57-6"^ 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxix 


^,  7<»-3f  7"-»3f  799-  Premier,  327,  519, 
5*9»  5S9»  5^»»  5^-  President,  491.  R.  &  P., 
657.  Regent,  540.  Rover  Safety,  535,  545. 
Royal  Mail,  508,  527.  Rucker,  509,  530, 
5J6,  542,  543-  Rudge,  128,  139,  183,  321, 
500,  508-10,  639.  Rudge  Light  Roadster,  388, 
50S,  513,  526,  56 J,  567,  578,  679.  Rudge 
Safety,  527.  Safety,  505.  Safety  (King),  672. 
St.  Nicholas,  524.  Sandringham,  538.  Sans- 
pareil,  324,  50S-9,  520,  524-5,  530.  Shadow, 
50^  Singer,  34S,  527.  Singer  Challenge, 
537.  H.  R.  Smith  Machine  Co.,  671.  Special 
Club,  5o3.  Stanley,  517.  Stanley  Head  Ex- 
c:;!sior,  546.    Star,  164,  172,  257,  267,  269-71, 

»74»  320,  50S.  5io-».  52S»  530.  549.  575.  577- 
Union,  508.  Velocity,  50S.  Victor,  487,  493, 
50S,  5 16,  5 19,  524-5,  527.  676.  Xtra,  348,  505. 
Yale,  508,  509,  516,  519,  Sio. 

Tricycles. 

Beeston  H timber,  557-8,  588.  Carver,  535. 
Centaur  Tandem,  535.  Challenge,  686. 
Cheylesmore  Club,  562,  565-6.  Cheylesmore 
Sodable,  589.  Club  Racer,  535.  Club  So- 
ciable, 535.  Columbia,  503,  508,  509,  511, 
528.  Coventry  Convertible,  517.  Coventry 
Rotary,  513,  686.  Crescent,  526.  Cripper, 
5»7.  526,  552,  554-  Dearlove,  543.  Diana, 
686.  Excelsior,  503,  569.  H umber,  509,  530, 
5?5.  543,  54^,  55»»  554-6,  686.  Humber  Tan- 
dim,  509,  Imperial  Club,  535,  554.  Invin- 
cible, 517.  National,  511.  Omnicycle,  686. 
Premier,  524,  686.  Quadrant,  535,  686. 
Rotary,  535.  Royal  Mail,  526,  554.  Royal 
Salvo,  503.  Royal  Salvo  Sociable,  517. 
Rucker,  686.  Rucker  Tandem,  509.  Rudge, 
526.  Rudge  Tandem,  525.  Special  Chal- 
lenge, 533.  Tandem,  535.  Traveller,  509, 
526.     Victor,  508,  509,  526. 

Autobiographic  and  Personal. 

Ancestry,  722-3.  Appointments  for  wheel« 
ing,  730.  Authorship,  iv.,405,  722-3.  Aver- 
age man  in  physique.  An,  v.,  473.  Awe  an 
unknown  element,  471,  727.  Birthday  Fan- 
tasie  (verse).  A,  23.  Boat-race  manager  at 
New  London,  130.  Rone-shaker  days,  391- 
406.  Book,  History  of  this,  701-719.  Busi- 
ness-man, in  spite  of  myself,  A,  vii.,  483. 
Centenarian  kinsman.  My,  723.  Change  of 
"  K0I  Kron  "  to  "  Karl,"  720.  Qass  poet 
and  historian,  392,  401.  Collector  of  post- 
are-vtarops,  722.    "Coll.  Chron."  of  IVprid, 


720,  723.  Companionship  the  highest  hap- 
piness, 467.  Compensations  of  a  qui^t  life, 
4671  73  <•  Conceit,  732.  Costume  for  riding, 
16-22.  Death,  3S0,  733.  Deviation  in  career, 
caused  by  cycling,  406.  Di.^ing  my  way  out 
to  freedom,  725.  Disclaimers:  as  to  ambition, 
309,  732;  athleticism,  iv. ;  boastfulness,  v., 
5S2  ;  college  honors  and  prizes,  722 ;  competi- 
tion, v.,  484,  721-3;  egotism,  v.,  vii.;  envy, 
v.,  393f  47»i  7221  730;  fame,  309;  hermit-life, 
467;  hero-worship,  464;  literary  skili,  iv., 
716;  notoriety,  vii.,  281,  729;  ostentation, 
729,  732  ;  partisanship,  726 ;  praise,  vi. ;  van- 
ity, v.,  701,  716,  73a.  Dislike  for  "literary 
men  *'  and  "  athletes,"  iv. ;  for  "  medicine- 
men," 62.  DhertUsemeni  as  the  permanent 
element  of  life,  722.  Early  days  with  "  Curl," 
407-25,  47(>  Editor  of  college  magazine, 
392-3»  399-  Emersonian  maxims,  723,  732. 
Enemies,  731.  European  travel,  405-6.  Forty, 
vi.,  725,  732.  Friends,  467,  726-7.  Gen- 
ealogy, A  student  of,  722.  Gift-taking,  Ob- 
jections to,  713-4.  Golden  Fleas  (verse).  My 
search  for  the,  23,  406.  Government  by  in- 
terference, My  hatred  of,  726.  "  Great  ex- 
pectations "  as  a  bookseller,  vii.  Happiness, 
Ideal  of  future,  309,  467.  Health,  62,  294, 
307.  Hopefulness  as  a  self-deception,  716. 
Hopes  for  the  future.  Three,  viii.  H  umorous 
sense,  721-2,  727.  Illness,  62,  291.  Indebted- 
ness to  family  and  friends,  727.  Independ- 
ence protected  by  obscurity,  280.  Index- 
maker  in  college,  392-3,  401.  Indian  as  an 
ideal,  295,  466.  Indifference  to  "recogni- 
tion," 727.  Impartiality  towards  "  the  trade," 
vii.,  712-4.  Lament  for  the  Legal-Tender 
decision,  464.  League,  Business-stake  in  the, 
720.  Left-hand  penmanship  acquired,  vi., 
483,  710.  Life  as  viewed  in  retrospect,  vi. 
Literary  and  theatrical  people,  I  ndilf Irenes 
to,  iv.,  728.  Literary  ideal.  Simplicity  of,  iv. 
London  life,  405-6,  427,  471.  Ix>ngcvity, 
Chances  of,  723,  732.  Lost  inheritanc?,  iSo. 
Marriage,  47a,  723,  731.  Mechanical  aplitudi, 
Lack  of,  36,  713.  Middle-age,  44,  29f.  Mind 
and  character,  732.  Money-making capacity, 
vi.,  392. 720,  725.  Mount  Tom,  Aff.xtion  for, 
252.  "  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  Pro- 
posals for,  21 X,  501,  573,  590,  716-7.  Nar- 
row escapes,  45,  413,  733.  Observation  of 
prominent  people,  "out  of  harness,"  727. 
Optimism,  731.  Overwork,  Attempts  to  es- 
cape, 720,  725.     Personal  revelations  a  busi- 


Ixxviii      TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


N.  Y.,  65S.  Church  of  Ireland  Teipperance 
Visitor,  686.  Clipper,  N.  Y.,  494,680.  Con- 
tinent, Phila.  (viii.).  Country,  London,  687. 
Courier,  Ballarat,  Vict.,  561-2.  Courier, 
Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  5S8.  Courier,  Rochester, 
577.  Descriptive  Amarica,  N.  Y.,  177.  Dis- 
patch, Pittsburg,  323.  Evening  News,  Des- 
eret,  520.,  Examiner,  London,  551,  711.  Ex- 
press, Buflfalo,  N.  Y.,  5S8.  Frank  Leslie's 
Sunday  Magazine,  N.  Y.,  323.  Free  Press, 
Aberdeen,  Scot.,  555.  Gentlemen's  Maga- 
zine, London,  403.  Globe,  Boston,  618. 
Good  Words,  London,  62,  685.  Harper's 
Magazine,  N.  Y.,  15S,  242.  Harper's  Weekly, 
N.  Y.,  390-1, 402-4, 475,  4S3.  Harper's  Young 
People,  N.  Y.,  615.  Herald,  Auckland,  567. 
Herald,  Boston,  114.  Herald,  N.  Y.,  499, 
S^Jii  657*  Herald,  Rochester,  216.  Herald 
&  News,  W.  Randolph,  Vt.,  672.  Journal, 
London,  Out.,  669.  Journal  &  Courier,  New 
Haven,  39S,  401.  Knickerbocker  Magazine, 
N.  Y.,  2 16.  Knox  Student,  Galesburg,  658. 
Lake  George  Ripple,  N.  Y.,  198.  Lippin- 
cott's  Magazine,  Phila.,  i,  i63,  658,  702. 
Manufacturer's  Gazette,  Boston,  52s.  Mes> 
senger,  Marbhh^ad,  Ms.,  2S1.  Massachu- 
setts Magazine,  Boston,  6S0.  Mrs.  Grundy, 
N.  Y.  (vii.).  Morning  Call,  San  Francisco, 
492.  Nation,  N.  Y.,  281,  354,  433,  437,  450, 
570,614.  News,  Chelsea,  525.  News,  Ham- 
burg, Ger.,  551.  News  &  Chronicle,  Stawell, 
Vict.,  566,  696.  Norfolk  Reformer,  Simcoe, 
Ont.,  331,  634,  669.  Northwestern  Christian 
Advocate,  Chicago,  499.  Once  a  Month, 
Melbourne,  560.  Our  Young  Folks,  Boston, 
431.  Petit  Journal,  Paris,  697.  Pilot,  Bos- 
ton, 657.  Post  &  Tribune,  Detroit,  505. 
PoAt-Dispatch,  St.  Louis,  528.  Press,  Phila- 
delphia, 454.  Puck,  N.  Y.,  15,  36,  246,  409, 
499,  669,  673.  Record,  Phila.,  627.  Refor- 
mer, Bennington,  Vt.,  627.  Republican, 
Landing,  Mich.,  505.  Republican,  Spring- 
field, Ms.,  115,  527.  Royal  Gazette,  Bermuda, 
366.  Round  Table,  N.  Y.,  135.  Saturday 
Press,  N.  Y.,  15.  Scientific  American,  N. 
Y.,  403.  Scribner's  Monthly,  N.  Y.,  431, 
504,  658.  Stamboul  Journal,  Constantinople, 
4S2.  Statesman,  Marshall,  Mich.,  323.  Stu- 
dent, Amherst,  Ms.,  114.  Sun,  N.  Y.,  154, 
403.  Table  Talk,  Ottumwa,  la.,  67a.  Tas- 
manian  News,  563.  Telegram,  N.  Y.,  280, 
Texas  Siftings,  668.  Times,  Calais,  Me., 
265.     Times,   N.  Y.,  ii.,  356,  459.    Times, 


Philadelphia,  177.  Times,  Sydney,  N.  S. 
W.,  695.  Tit  Bits,  London,  xciv.  Tooth- 
pick, Ashmore,  111.,  4S9.  Transcript,  Port- 
land, 257,  627.  Tribune,  Cambridge,  657. 
Tribune,  Chicago,  323.  Tribune,  N.  Y., 
499j  597»  7»4.  72  7.  Union,  Springfield,  Ms., 
580.  University  Quarterly,  N.  Y.,  469.  Van- 
ity Fair,  N.  Y.,  444.  Yale  Courant,  New 
Haven,  398.  Yale  Literary  Magazine,  New 
Haven,  399-402.    World,  N.  Y.,  584,  720-1, 

Bicycles. 

American  Gub,  509.  American  Rudge, 
50S.  Arab  Light  Roadster,  535.  Apollo 
Light  Roadster,  321.  Ariel,  504,  519,  541, 
546-7.  Bayliss  &  Thomas,  348.  Bone-shak- 
ers* 394*  400-2.  British  Challenge,  183,  50S, 
52o»  543.  545.  559.  5^>«.  5^-  Carver,  503. 
Centaur,  523.  Challenge,  330,  537.  Club, 
505,  508,  533,  565,  569.  Club  Safety,  566. 
Columbia,  148,  189,  324,  487,  501,  505,  507, 
511,  520,  521,  524,  525,  565,  709,  712-3.  Co- 
lumbia Expert,  47,  59,  149,  237,  244,  388,  474, 
484.  492.  503.  506,508,  510-11,  513,  5 •7>  519-20, 
523-30, 575-6,  578.  Columbia  Light  Roadster, 
527-9.  "Columbia,  Number  234,"  35-48, 
86.  Columbia  Special,  503,  507-S,  511,  520. 
521.  Columbia  Standard,  48,  59,  183,  244, 
378,  474,  484,  488-9,  494,  500,  503,  508,  51  f, 
S»3,  5»5.  5*9.  523.  528-9.  576.  Coventry,  330. 
Coventry  Gentleman,  537.  Coventry  Ma- 
chinist Co.,  663.  Cunningham  Co.,  653,  656, 
666-7,  679,  712.  Desideratum,  537.  D.  E. 
H.  F.  Excelsior,  546,  569.  D.  E.  H.  F. 
Premier,  519,  559,  561,  569.  Duplex  Excel- 
sior, 517,  524,  546.  Eclipse,  541,  547.  Ex- 
traordinary, 487,  505.  Facile,  161,  509,  536, 
537.  538.  553.  554.  555-  Gentleman,  567. 
Gentleman's  Club,  569.  Gentleman's  Road- 
ster, 542.  Gormully  &  Jeffery,  683,^798. 
Hartford,  401.  Harvard,  138,  189,  493,  502, 
508,  520,  524.  Hollow  Spoke  Roadster,  54a. 
Howe,  552.  Humber,  509,  516,  517,  524,  542. 
Ideal,  493.  Interchangeable,  546.  Invinci- 
hle,  517,  557.  Ivel  Safety,  557-8.  John 
Bull,  507.  Kangaroo,  508-9.  Keen,  547. 
Lynn  Express,  537.  Matchless,  508,  532, 
563.  Monod,  401.  Newton  Challenge,  508. 
Otto,  521,  529.  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  662, 
663-5,  676.  Paragon,  504,  517.  Perfection, 
546.  Pickering,  392,  400-5.  Pony  Star,  509. 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  24-6,  36,  40,  42,  47-8,  86, 94, 
»39.  »89.  485.  501-2,  511,  523,  526,  565,  657-60, 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxix 


664,  702.3,  711-13,  799-  Premier,  337,  519, 
5*9i  559»  5^<t  5^  President,  491.  R.  &  P., 
657.  Regent,  540.  Rover  Safety,  535,  545. 
Royal  Mail,  50S,  527.  Riicker,  509,  530, 
5J6»  54«,  5U-  Rudge,  128,  139,  183,  321, 
500,  50S-10, 639.  Rudge  Light  Roadster,  388, 
50**.  5«3,  5*6,  56 J,  S^7*  578.  679.  Rudge 
Safety,  527.  Safety,  505.  Safety  (King),  672. 
St.  Nicholas,  524.  Sandringham,  538.  Sans- 
pareil,  324,  50S-9,  520,  524-5,  530.  Shadow, 
508.  Singer,  34S,  527.  Singer  Challenge, 
537.  H.  B.  Smith  Machine  Co.,  671.  Special 
Club,  50S.  Stanley,  5 1 7.  Stanley  Head  Ex- 
c-::)sior,  546.  Star,  164,  172,  257,  267,  269-71, 
274,  320,  503,  520-1,  525,  530,  549.  575.  577- 
Union,  $0^.  Velocity,  50S.  Victor,  487,  493, 
$08,  516,  519,  524-5,  527,  676.  Xtra,  348,  505. 
Yale,  508,  509,  516,  519,  530. 

Tricyclbs. 

Beeaton  Hurabir,  557-S,  5S3.  Carver,  535. 
Centaur  Tandem,  535.  Challenge,  686. 
Ctieylesmorc  Club,  562,  565-6.  Cheylesmore 
Sociable,  589.  Club  Racer,  535.  Club  So- 
ciable, 535.     Columbia,   503,   508,   509,  511, 

525.  Coventry  Convertible,  517.  Coventry 
Rotary,  513,  686.  Crescent,  526.  Cripper, 
5 '7,  526,  552.  554-  Dearlove,  543.  Diana, 
686.  Excelsior,  503,  569.  Humber,  509,  530, 
5?5.  513.  54*^,  55«.  554-6,  686.  Humber  Tan- 
dem, 509.  Imperial  Club,  535,  554.  Invin- 
cible, 517.  National,  511.  Omnicyde,  686. 
Premier,  524,  686.  Quadrant,  535,  686. 
Rotary,  535.  Royal  Mail,  526,  554.  Royal 
!>alvo,  503.  Royal  Salvo  Sociable,  517. 
Rucker,  686.  Ruclcer  Tandem,  509.  Rudge, 
526L  Rudge  Tandem,  525.  Spedal  Chal- 
lenge, 535.    Tandem,   535.     Traveller,  509, 

526.  Victor,  508,  509,  526. 

Autobiographic  and  Pbrsonau 

Ancestry,  722-3.  Appointments  for  wheel- 
ing, 730.  Authorship,  iv.,405,  722-3.  Aver- 
age man  in  physique.  An,  v.,  473.  Awe  an 
unknown  element,  471,  727.  Birthday  Fan- 
tasie  (verse),  A,  23.  Boat-race  manager  at 
New  London,  130.  Bone-shaker  days,  391- 
4o6l  Book,  History  of  this,  701-719.  Busi- 
ness-man, in  spite  of  myself,  A,  vii.,  483. 
Centenarian  kinsman,  My,  723.  Change  of 
"  Kd  Kron  "  to  "  Karl,"  720.  Qass  poet 
■od  historian,  392,  401.  Collector  of  post- 
a2e-«tan»P»,  722.     "  Coll.  Chron."  of  i^orld. 


720,  733.  Companionship  the  highest  hap- 
piness, 467.  Compensations  of  a  quiqt  life, 
467,  73  !•  Conceit,  732.  Costume  for  riding, 
16-22.  Dsath,  380,  733.  Deviation  in  career, 
caused  by  cycling,  406.  Di;^ing  my  way  out 
to  freedom,  725.  Disclaimers:  as  to  ambition, 
309,  732;  athleticism,  iv. ;  boastfulness,  v., 
5S2 ;  college  honors  aud  prizes,  722 ;  competi- 
tion, v.,  4S4,  721-3;  egotism,  v.,  vii.;  envy, 
v.,  393»  47».  722,  730;  fams,  309;  hermit-life, 
467;  hero-worship,  464;  literary  skill,  iv., 
716;  notoriety,  vii.,  aSt,  739;  ostentation, 
729,  732  ;  partisanship,  726 ;  praise,  vi. ;  van- 
ity, v.,  701,  716,  732.  Dislike  for  "literary 
men  ''  and  "  athletes,"  iv. ;  for  "  medicine- 
men," 62.  Drvertissemtnt  as  the  permanent 
element  of  life,  722.  Early  days  with  "  Curl," 
407-25,  471.  Editor  of  college  magazine, 
392-3*  399'  Emersonian  maxims,  723,  732. 
Enemies,  731.  European  travel,  405-6.  Forty, 
vi.,  725,  732.  Friends,  467,  726-7.  Gen- 
ealogy, A  student  of,  722.  Gift-taking,  Ob- 
jections to,  713-4.  Golden  Fleas  (verse),  My 
search  for  the,  23,  406.  Government  by  in- 
terference, My  hatred  of,  726.  *'  Great  ex- 
pectations "  as  a  bookseller,  vii.  Happiness, 
Ideal  of  future,  309,  467.  Health,  62,  294, 
307.  Hopefulness  as  a  sslf-deception,  716. 
Hopes  for  the  future,  Three,  viii.  H  umorous 
sense,  721-2,  727.  Illness,  62,  29}.  Indebted- 
ness to  family  and  friends,  727.  Independ- 
ence protected  by  obscurity,  2S0.  Index- 
maker  in  college,  392-3,  401.  Indian  as  an 
ideal,  295,  466.  Indifference  to  "  recogni- 
tion," 727.  Impartiality  towards  "  the  trade," 
vii.,  712-4.  Lament  for  the  Legal-Tender 
decision,  464.  League,  Business-stake  in  the, 
720.  Left-hand  penmanship  acquired,  vi., 
483,  710.  Life  as  viewed  in  retrospect,  vi. 
Literary  and  theatrical  people.  Indifference 
to,  iv.,  728.  Literary  ideal.  Simplicity  of,  iv. 
London  life,  405-6,  427,  471.  Longevity, 
Chances  of,  723,  732.  Lost  inheritance,  i*^. 
Marriage,  472,  723,  731.  Mechanical  aptitud  >, 
Lack  of,  36, 713.  Middle-age,  44,  294.  Mind 
and  character,  732.  Money-making  capacity, 
vi.,  392.  720,  725.  Mount  Tom,  Affection  for, 
252.  "My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  Pro- 
posals for,  an,  501,  573,  590,  716-7.  Nar- 
row escapes,  45,  413,  733.  Observation  of 
prominent  people,  *'out  of  harnes.H,"  727. 
Optimism,  731.  Overwork,  Attempts  to  es- 
cai>e,  720,  725.     Personal  revelations  a  busi- 


Ixxx 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ness-necesaty,  vii.  "  Philately,"  A  writer 
on,  fta-3.  Physique,  v.,  59,  61,  6a,  153,  294, 
307.  Political  prejudices,  736.  Portrait  never 
"  exchanged,"  280.  Preference  for  small 
tasks,  723.  Pride,  732.  Procrastination  pre- 
vents English  tour,  406.  Publisher,  Pay  as 
a,  715,  724.  Relations  with  wheelmen,  729. 
Representative  spokesman  for  the  hobby,  As 
a,  vi.  Respect  for  fellow-residents  of  the  U. 
B.,  462.  Right-hand  disabled  by  too  much 
pen-work,  vi.,  483,  710.  Rowing,  61.  Rule 
of  non-membership,  720.  Running,  61.  Sar- 
casms of  destiny,  724-5.  Self-reliance,  722. 
Slowness,  iv.,  731.  Snapper-up  of  uncon- 
sidered trifles,  Asa,  v.,  716.  "Solidarity" 
with  Stevens,  4S4.  Solitude  in  the  U.  B., 
Experiences  of,  463.  Spectator  of  society. 
As  a,  467,  722,  728-9,  731.  Sports  of  child- 
hood, with  "  Curl,"  413-21.  Statistical  show- 
ing of  my  personal  part  in  the  book.  xx. 
Steadfastness,  725.  Subscription-solicitor  as 
undergraduate,  392.  Suspension  from  col- 
l;ge,  392,  404.  Swimming,  61.  "Thirtieth 
Street  "  reminiscences,  452.  Touring,  Equip- 
ment for,  i6-22 ;  Leisure  gained  for,  720. 
Travels  in  Europe,  405-6.  Two  exploits 
I  should  have  been  proud  of,  464.  Two  sol- 
diers whom  I  adnured,  386,  439.  Under- 
graduate reminiscences,  391-405,  466.  Van- 
ity disclaimed,  701,  716,  732.  Verses  voic- 
ing my  philosophy,  15,  23,  34,  63,  304,  309, 
728,  729,  730,  731,  800.  Visitors,  Recep- 
tion of,  729.  Volubility  as  a  book-agent,  724. 
Walking,  61.  Wealth,  15,  720,  731.  Work- 
hours  favorable  for  touring,  720.  World 
work  as  college  chronicler,  720-1.  Yale, 
Book  about,  405,  711,  722.  Yale  graduate. 
Biography  as  a,  732.  Yankee  from  Yankec- 
ville,  A  thoroughbred,  36,  722-3.  Yale  men 
in  New  York,  Directory  of,  464. 

Wheeling  Autobiot.raphy. 

Analysis  of  234  rides,  49-63.  Ankle  sprained, 
241.  Bathing,  61.  Bed-bugs  in  Maryland,  239. 
Bermuda  trip  forces  U.  S.  Goveniment  to 
dass  tourists'  cycles  as  "  personal  effects, 
exempt  from  duty,"  368-70.  Bone-shaker  ex- 
periences in  1869,  391-406.  Boots  immortal- 
ized, 279.  Boston  pilgrimage  for  purchase  of 
"  No.  234,*'  25.  Clothes  for  riding,  Cost  of, 
41.  Club-swinging,  61,  395,  405.  Coasting, 
5'f  5*.  »33-  Cold  weather,  246-54, 298-9,  342. 
Cramps,  59,  263.     Cyclometers,  Experiences 


with  (Butcher),  147,  374,  378  ;  (McDonnel'), 
248 ;  (Pope),  24,  26, 47,  582  ;  offer  to  lest,  714. 
Daily  riding  averages,  49.  Drinking,  54,  62, 
516.  Eating,  61.  Elbow  broken  by  first  fail 
from  saddle,  24,  62,  307.  Falls  of  my  1400 
m.  tour,  306.  Fastest  rides,  58,  233,  313, 
362.  Fifty-mile  rides,  *8o  to  '82,  50-51,  54. 
First  sight  of  a  velocipede,  in  '69,  393.  First 
trial  of  a  bicycle,  in  '79,  156.  Food,  61,  313, 
362.  Foot,  Injury  to,  306.  Fording,  228,  241, 
375i  378-81,  383.  Headers,  55,  238,  273,  363, 
373.  Hill  climbing,  53,  58,  272  (71  corrected, 
5S2).  Hotel  mi.series,  13,  150,  205,  209,  227, 
229,  230,  241,  326,  338.  Hundred-mile  run, 
312.  League  founded  in  my  honor,  24;  my 
btisiness-stake  in  its  success,  720.  Leisure 
for  touring.  How  gained,  720.  Longest 
tour,  Inspiration  of  my,  295.  I^ng  stays  in 
saddle,  52-53,  122,  313,  343.  Malarial  sweats 
cured  by  riding,  294-5,  30S.  Mechanical 
aptitude,  Lack  of,  36,  713.  Mileage  of  sepa- 
rate roadway  estimated,  31.  Memorial  plac- 
ard on  "  No.  234,"  48.  Moonlight,  Longest 
ride  by,  318.  Mud-clogging,  22S,  349,  373. 
Night-riding,  56,  205,  227,  240,  241,  248,  252, 
298,  3".3»3.  3»8,  336,  338,  344,  360,  377. 
Objections  to  bags,  17;  bells,  18,  22,  55; 
belts,  18,  22  ;  crowds,  256,  272  ;  large  wheels, 
59 ;  medicine-men,  62 ;  tobacco,  62,  63 ; 
whistles,  55.  Pedestrian,  Record  as  a,  61. 
Physique,  Tests  of,  54,  61,  153.  Queerest 
ride  of  all,  380.  Railroad  mileage  summary, 
31,  33.  Road-riding  summaries,  i879-'82, 
26-31,  49-5»-  Race,  My  only,  362.  Rainy 
rides,  228,  262,  283,  29S,  304-5,  3S0.  Risks, 
53>  153*  362*  380.  Saddle-soreness,  307.  Sea 
voyages,  282,  292,  358,  363.  Size  of  wheel. 
Preference  as  to  small,  59-61.  Snow-storms, 
251,  298,  342.  Statistics  of  mileage  com- 
pared, 31,  296,  317,  384,  388.  Sunstroke  in- 
vited on  Long  Island,  54,  153.  Thefts,  57. 
Thunder-storm,  Descent  of  the  Blue  Ridge  in 
a,  3 So.  Touring  as  related  to  working  hours, 
720 ;  equipments  for,  16-22.  Tours  outlined. 
Earliest,  II,  26-31,42.  Training,  62.  Trium- 
phant finish  of  the  thousand-mile  trail,  304. 
Vow  to  refrain  from  riding,  388,  733.  Water 
routes.  Summary  of  mileage  on,  32.  Wear 
and  tear  of  machine,  37-41.  Weariest  day's 
tour  in  four  years  (Ky.),  230.  Week's  mile- 
age, Longest,  296.  Weight  and  height,  59. 
World's  record  for  straightaway  touring,  won 
by  1400  m.  ride  of  1883,  300,  532,  549,  551. 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


This  Book  of  Mihb,  ji 
Advcn!. 

inpattiilili 


]-cyclen,  iv.  AutobioEnphy 
belwen  Lhf  linei.  An,  vL  AuUTgraph  edi- 
lion,  Signins  J]63  By-Juvei  tor  ihe,  vi.,  71a. 
BL  WarlXi  cold  thoulder  lor  the  KlKine, 
604.  BookKlliag  (gaiDil  Iiade-pKccdenl, 
.ii.  Boiloa'i  notions  contrulcd  oitta  New 
Vork'a,  )oS.  Bull-dog  ai  an  intpintion,  701. 
Bbi^ntu  Lush  dI  good-will,  vi-,  vii.,  701,  714, 
7jb,  7>o,  7JJ.  CiTcuUn  and  ipccimvn  dup< 
l«J,  701-*  Collegiani  nol  aitnltled,  70^9. 
Columbiii  l»cycl».  Incidental  adv.  of,  711-). 
Conpaiisonnf  mruheme  toSleTcni'i  round- 
the-world  lour,  48]-     Complitnenlary  copiei 


oipub 

lalion  hoped  roi 

70s, 

D.-dici 

1.     Debr> 

and   i 

7,5*. 

t«oi 

.ineu-n 

3.S9". 

n.     E 

gli>h 

wto.,  Atlr 

bylbt 

li«,.i- 

1S4. 

709- 

of  pri 
ofcoit 

t  ol,  6sj.  Geogriphicil  range 
en,  vii,.».  Cifi-taking,  Ob- 
14.    Hotel*  and  libraHea,  Sell- 


ideal,  Simplicity  of,  iv.,  474. 
ireii,  Trtalment  by,  69J. 
hoQ  Springfidd,  7J2,  714, 


siLidfj  Chance  of,  vi.,  71 


Izxxi 

PaymnltdfoT 
support,  701, 


publishing,  7>5'  Political  i 
716.  Pope  Mfg.  Co.'s  nSen  1 
711-1].  Prediciionl  of  failure 
Preface,  liL-viiL  Press,  Treatmenl  by  the, 
704-9,  7'S-  Price  mispiialcd  at  "(i.so"  in- 
stead   of  "»>,"  7J1,    714,   ;»     Printing, 

Prospecluj  (Dec.   j.  '83),  704.  (May  a,  '84) 
70s,     Puffery  as  dist 


I  asked  i( 


7>8,  7> 


"Ten  Tliousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle,"  4S, 
48.  "St,  J5J,  J71,  jBi,  jSj,  jSa,  469,  4Sj^, 
6S5,  701.  Tradesmen,  Indifference  of,  709, 
7ri ;  reasons  why  Ihey  should  freely  advenite 
and  belp  its  sale,  •>•,%.  Type.  Prelerencu  as 
to  >iie  of,  vli.,  71^-17.  Undergraduates  un- 
inlereUed,  70S-9.    Unpaid  agenli  as  booV-sell- 

iii.  tVlntTs  liberal  support,  704-5,  707-8. 
WMttlitg  and  tVHarmtn'i  Caulu  give  aid, 
706^.    Words,    Estimated    number  of,  «. 

press,  ToS.     "X-  M. 

Miles"  as  a  lille,  704. 

pHILO^OfKtCAL  AND  SoQAL, 

Affeclationi  of  society,  46!.  Affection  and 
sympathy  in  cycling,  14,  719.  Appearances, 
Thecoslof,  719;  deceiifulness  01,408;  keep, 
ing  up  of.  in  England,  41*.  Aristocracy. 
396-7,  44S-9.  Bachelors'  chambers,  440-1, 
4SS-6.  Bashfulneai  a  form  o(  vanity,  ya. 
Birthdays,    joi.     Boaitfulnesi,    soi.     Bohc- 

"  Boy-like  "  a  belter  adjective   than   "boy- 

gTowth,4>6;  estimateiof,  &JI.  Childhood^s 
egotism  charming,  731.  Class  enthusiasm  at 
college,  391.  CInthes,  16.  Collegiate  finances, 

of  "sodcly  people,"  447-8,455-  Companion- 
ship, The  cost  of,  aj;.    Compcnsalioi 


■  "U  : 


:  oi 


Ixxxii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


454.  Contempt  best  shown  by  silence,  596. 
Courage,  Suggestions  about,  725.  Custom 
as  Juggernaut,  444.  Danger  as  a  fascination, 
380.  Death,  The  fear  of,  46S ;  the  mystery 
o^  732-3'  Democracy,  An  ideal,  396 ;  social 
drift  towards,  448.  Eccentricity,  Pain  in  the 
consciousness  of,  443,  455.  Eonomy  of  pay- 
ing a  good  price  for  the  best,  606.  Egotism, 
v.,  732.  Elegancies  of  living  not  forbidden 
by  isolation,  456.  Endowments  for  colleges, 
Influences  affecting,  435-7.  English  house- 
hold comfort  superior  to  American,  444-5, 
449-50.  Enlightened  selfishness,  719.  Ex- 
clusiveness,  449.  Fallacy  of  getting  some- 
thing for  nothing,  604.  Fame,  Emptiness 
off  '5.  3091  439i  465,  728-9,  733.  Familiarity 
kills  literary  curiosity,  731.  Family  perma- 
nence not  possible  in  America,  722.  Fatigue 
of  false  pleasure,  309.  Fighting  for  con- 
science' sake,  3S6 ;  for  peace,  466.  Freedom, 
The  charm  of,  255,  280,  462,  466 ;  the  costs 
of,  444,  46S;  the  ideal  home  of,  428,  473. 
Genealogy,  Scientific  lessons  of,  723.  Gen- 
erosity of  wealthy  Americans,  435.  Genius, 
The  secret  of,  14.  Gossip  harmful  by  ex- 
cess, 280.  Graduation-year,  The  memory  of, 
39t.  Gravity  defined  by  Rochefoucauld, 
727.  Happiness  in  keeping  boy-like,  14  ;  con- 
ditioned on  health,  294 ;  of  congenial  work, 
468 ;  of  mental  freedom,  469 ;  of  wheeling  in 
foreign  lands,  309.  Hermits,  Apparent  and 
real,  467-8.  Hobby-rider  as  a  bore.  The,  5. 
Hoggishness,  10,615,621.  Hospitality,  Per- 
fect machinery  for  (in  England),  442 ;  diffi- 
culties of  (in  America),  449-50.  Hotels,  442, 
450,  601-6.  Humor  of  disappointment,  T*he, 
256.  Hypocrisy  of  "  amateurism,"  628,  630, 
649.  Imitation,  The  servility  of,  446,  453, 
468.  Independence  defined  by  Hamerton,  468. 
Intellectual  exhilaration  in  long-distance  tour- 
ing, 301-3.  Insularity  of  British  business- 
men, 484.  Janitors,  A  study  of,  457-60.  Lit- 
erary faculty  a  form  of  weakness,  728.  Local 
limitations  of  "  position,"  448.  Local  pride 
as  a  spur  to  public  spirit,  436.  Love,  15,  136, 
409-10, 442-3,  472,  731-  Lying,  6,  20,  397,  733. 
Matrimonial  ideals,  442.  Memory,  Fallibil- 
ity of,  391,  399,  404.  Mental  liberty,  454, 
468-9,  472.  "  Money  "  a  universal  language, 
284,  701.  Motto  for  an  honorable  life,  680. 
Negroes'  behavior  at  Bermuda,  364.  Origin- 
ality, French  hatred  of,  468.  Ostentation, 
4671  469.     Philistinism,  469.    Pleasure  of  "  I 


told  you  so,"  The,  276.  Politics,  A  citizen's 
duty  towards,  726 ;  a  less-dignified  game  than 
wheeling,  309 ;  a  topic  for  conversation,  450. 
Publicity,  The  curse  of,  281 ;  privacy  made 
by>  429*  443-  Puffery,  The  mistake  of,  718. 
Respectability,  English  ideal  of,  446 ;  French 
ideal,  46S.  Repute  and  reality,  728.  Rich 
and  poor,  630,  720,  729.  Rivalries  of  men 
and  women  contrasted,  721 ;  of  Western 
cities,  436.  Savage,  Suggestions  of  the,  61, 
62, 295, 309,  454-5.  466-9,  73 1.  Sectarian  con- 
trol of  colleges,  435.  Self-absorption,  An- 
tidotes for,  466.  Self-confidence,  Rarity  of, 
448-9.  Self-suppression  in  Loudon  and  New 
York,  427,  447.  Servitude  to  servants  (in 
America),  449-50 ;  (in  England),  445-7.  Silence 
the  bitterest  form  of  contempt,  596.  Sincerity 
of  "last  words,"  730;  in  solitude,  467-9. 
Slaughter  as  the  chief  basis  of  renown,  465. 
Snobbery  shown  by  "  amateurism,"  650.  So- 
cial significance  of  various  residence-quarters 
in  N.  Y.,  65,  452.  Society,  as  an  ancient  and 
interesting  game,  728-9.  Solitude,  Pleasures 
of,  7i  34i  255,  406, 432,  454-6, 467-9 ;  solace  for, 
14 ;  terror  of  to  evil-doers,  441  ;  test  of  char- 
acter, 462.  Sophistry  as  a  lawyer's  main- 
stay, 724.  Sport's  highest  function,  732. 
Superstitions,  409,  413,  430,  463.  Sympathy 
in  a  common  hobby,  vi.,  5.  Theatrical  life 
defined  by  Fanny  Kemble,  728.  Tliieves' 
shrewdness,  44  r.  Tonic  quality  in  hard  work, 
309,  468.  Travel,  Advantages  of  foreign, 
3,  469 ;  necessity  of  for  Englishmen,  447 ; 
relative  isolation  in,  454.  Triumph,  Def- 
inition of,  304.  Undergraduates  as  demo- 
crats and  aristocrats,  396.  Vanity  as  a  lit- 
erary inspiration,  701;  in  portraiture,  280; 
melancholy  tokens  of  at  Mammoth  Cave, 
381 ;  density  of  in  "  social  leaders,"  455 ; 
solitude  as  a  deliverance  from,  468 ;  shown  by 
bash  fulness,  502 ;  twists  the  street  numbers, 
586.  Veneration,  448.  Verbosity  of  Evarts 
defended,  724.  Votes,  The  significance  of, 
726 ;  the  power  of,  for  rebuking  the  preten- 
sions of  the  Great  American  Hog,  615,  621. 
War  and  peace,  386,  439.  Wealth,  15, 396, 453, 
469.  Whims,  Distinction  between  positive 
and  negative,  281.  Wives  and  mistresses, 
441-4.  Woods,  A  home  in  the,  as  an  escape 
from  conformity,  444,  454-6,  467-8.  Youth  : 
its  generous  "  illusions  "  defended  by  Renan, 
47a  ;  its  pricelessness  proclaimed  by  the 
hopeless  longing  of  TurgenefF,  728. 


INDEX  (Jf  persons. 


Ixxv 


Man,  Road  Guide  for  the,  687.  Land's  End 
to  John  O'Groat's  on  a  Tricycle,  685.  League 
Handbooks,  '81  and  '87,  625,  677.  Legal 
Aspects  of  Road  Repair,  650.  Letters  of  In- 
terest to  Wheelman,  67S.  Library  of  Sports 
(Cycling),  6S5.  Log  Book,  My  Cycling,  676. 
Long  Island  Road-Book,  655.  Liverpool  Cy- 
clists* Pocket  Guide  and  Club  Directory  for 
*85, 6S6.  Lyra  BicycHca,  505, 655,  674.  Man- 
uel du  V61oceman,  698.  Manuel  du  Vdloci- 
p&de,  69S.  Massachusetts  State  Division 
Road  Book,  5S1,  677.  Mechanical  Diction- 
ary, 6SS.  Michigan  Road-book,  677.  Mis- 
souri Handbook,  677.  Modern  Bicycle,  The, 
685.  Modern  Cycles,  On  the  Construction 
of,  6S3.  Modern  Velocipede,  The,  688.  My 
Cycling  Friends,  6S7.  My  Cycling  Log  Book, 
670;.  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,  211,  501, 
590,  716.  Nauticus  in  Scotland,  6S4.  Nauti- 
cus  on  his  Hobby-Horse,  xciv.  Nervous- 
ness, How  I  Cured  Myself  of,  688.  Notting- 
ham, Cyclists'  Guide  to,  6S5.  Official  Hand- 
book of  the  Clubs  of  Essex,  687.  Ocean  to 
Ocean  on  a  Bicycle,  From,  xciv.  Ohio  Road- 
Book,  677, 68a .  On  Wheels,  688.  Our  Camp 
{Cyclisfs  Christmas  issue  of  '84),  692.  Over- 
land to  Sydney  on  Cycles,  565, 696.  Over  the 
Handles,  673.  Over  the  PjTenees  on  a  Bicy- 
(^Cf  549>  ^3*  Paris,  Guide  des  Environs  de, 
699.  Pleasures  of  Cycling,  xciv.  Pocket  Di- 
rectory, The  Scottish  A.  C,  686.  Pocket 
Manual  of  the  Bicycle,  A,  687.  Pocket  Road 
Guides,  550.  Pope,  Biography  of  A.  A., 
680.  Radfahrer's  Jahrbuch,  697.  Record 
Book  for  Tourists,  676.  Repair  and  Mainte- 
nance of  Roads,  650.  Repairing  of  Bicycles 
by  Amateurs,  678.  Report  of  the  "  Socidtd 
Pratique  du  V^locipide  "  for  '69, 698.  Rhine, 
Handbook  for  Wheelmen  along  the,  697. 
Rhymes  of  the  Road  and  River,  655,  674. 
Rights  and  Liabilities  of  Cyclists,  6S4.  Road 
and  the  Roadside,  The,  680.  Road  Book  of 
C.  T.  C,  Proposed,  687.  Road  Guide  to  the 
Southern  Counties  of  Scotland,  686.  Road 
Repair,  6g6.  Roads  of  England  (Gary's),  681. 
Roads  of  England  (Howard's),  550,  681-2. 
Roads  of  England  (Paterson's),  532,  S39-40i 
68f.  Romances  of  the  Wheel,  685.  Rota 
Vit»,  685.  Route  Book,  The  Cyclist's,  684. 
Russia,  A  Bicycle  Ride  from,  687'.  Safety 
Bicycles,  6S4.  Scotland,  Cyclist's  Itinerary 
of,  550.  Scotland,  Nauticus  in,  6S4.  Scot- 
land, Road  Guide  to  the  Southern  Counties 


of,  686.  Scottish  A.  C.  Pocket  Directory, 
The,  686.  Sel f  Propulsion,  683.  Sixty  Poets 
on  the  Wheel,  674.  Song  of  the  Wheelist, 
The,  686.  South  Africa,  A  Tour  in,  696. 
Southern  Counties  Camp  Book,  686.  Star 
Rider's  Manual,  655,  671.  Steel  Wings,  674. 
Suggestions  for  Choice,  Care  and  Repair  of 
Bicycles  and  Tricycles,  678.  Ten  Thousand 
Miles  on  a  Bicycle,  45,  48,  353,  370,  426, 
483-4,  655,  701-33.     Theorie  du  V^locipMe, 

698.  Things  a  Cyclist  Oucht  to  Know,  55a 
Tour  dc  Monde  en  Vdlocipide,  Le,  6^8. 
Tourists'  Guide,  684.  Tourists,  Rights  and 
Liabilities  of,  685.  Trade  catalogues  and 
advertisements,  653,  679-So.  Training  for 
Amateur  Athletes,  684.  Training  Instructor, 
Th2,  686.  Tricycle  Annual,  685.  Tricycle 
and  Tricycling,  The,  686.  Tricycle  et  Vtfioci- 
pMe  k  Vapeur,  698.  Tricycle,  In  Relation 
to  Health  and  Recreation,  685.  Tricycle, 
Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's  on  a,  685. 
Tricj'cle,  Through  Italy  on  a,  687.  Tricycle, 
A  Treatise  on  the  Theoretical  and  Practical 
Construction  of  the,  683.  Tricycles  and  How 
to  Ride  Them,  686.  Tricycles,  From  Holy- 
head to  London  on,  686.  Tricycling,  Cor- 
dingley's  Penny  Guide  to,  686.  Tricycling 
for  Ladies,  684.  Tricyclisi's  Indispensable 
Annual  &  Handbook,  684.  Tricyclisi's  Vade 
Mecum,  The,  686.  Two  Pilgrims'  Progress, 
687.     Vade  Mecum  du  Touriste  Vdlcccman, 

699.  Vade  Mecum,  The  TricycHst's,  686. 
V^locipide,  Le,  698.  Velocipede  Specifica- 
tions, Abridgment  of,  550.  Velocipede,  The, 
402,  673.  Velocipede,  The,  688.  Veloci- 
pedes, 688.  Velocipedia,  688.  V^locip^die 
Pratique,  La,  699.  Vclocipedisten- Jahrbuch 
for  '84,  697.  Western  Adventures  of  a  Bicy- 
cle Tourist,  489.  Western  New  York  Road- 
Book,  221.  Westward,  Ho!  on  a  Sociable, 
687.  What  and  Why,  678.  Wheelman's 
Annual  for  '81  and  '82,  16,  673,  707.  Wheel- 
man's Hand-book  of  Essex  Co.,  1 12, 655,  677. 
Wheelman's  Log  Book  for  '81,  677.  Wheel- 
man's Record  Book,  677.  Wheelman's  Ref- 
erence Book,  615,  655, 675,  710.  Wheelman's 
Year  Book,  The,  686.  Wheelman's  Year 
Book,  Diary  and  Almanack  for  '82,  687. 
Wheel  Songs,  655,  674.  Wheels  and  Whims, 
6551  674.  IVhrei  IForfifs  Annuals,  692. 
Whirling  Wheels,  673.  Whizz,  The,  688. 
World  on  Wheels,  The,  680.  Year's  Sport, 
The,  687. 


Ixxviii     TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


N.  Y.,  65S.  Church  of  Ireland  Teijiperance 
Visitor j  686.  Clipper,  N.  Y.,  494,680.  Con- 
tinent, Phila.  (viii.).  Country,  London,  6S7. 
Courier,  Ballarat,  Vict.,  561-2.  Courier, 
Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  5S8.  Courier,  Rochester, 
577.  Descriptive  America,  N.  Y.,  177.  Dis- 
patch, Pittsburg,  323.  Evening  News,  Des- 
eret,  520.,  Examiner,  London,  551,  711.  Ex- 
press, Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  588.  Frank  Leslie's 
Sunday  Magazine,  N.  Y.,  323.  Free  Press, 
Aberdeen,  Scot.,  555.  Gentlemen's  Maga- 
zine, London,  403.  Globe,  Boston,  618. 
Good  Words,  London,  62,  685.  Harper's 
Magazine,  N.  Y.,  15S,  242.  Harper's  Weekly, 
N.  Y.,  39o-».  402-4i  475.  483.  Harper's  Young 
People,  N.  Y.,615.  Herald,  Auckland,  567. 
Herald,  Boston,  114.  Herald,  N.  Y.,  499, 
5S31  ^57-  Herald,  RcKhester,  216.  Herald 
&  News,  W.  Randolph,  Vt.,  672.  Journal, 
London,  Out.,  669.  Journal  &  Courier,  New 
Haven,  39S,  401.  Knickerbocker  Magazine, 
N.  Y.,  216.  Knox  Student,  Galesburg,  65S. 
Lake  George  Ripple,  N.  Y.,  198.  Lippin- 
cott's  Ma^^azine,  Phila.,  z,  16S,  658,  702. 
Manufacturer's  Gazette,  Boston,  525.  Mes- 
senger, Marbhh^ad,  Ms.,  281.  Massachu- 
setts Magazine,  Boston,  6S0.  Mrs.  Grundy, 
N.  Y.  (vii.).  Morning  Call,  San  Francisco, 
492-  Nation,  N.  Y.,  281,  354,  433,  437,  450, 
570, 614.  News,  Chjlsea,  525.  News,  Ham- 
burg, Ger.,  551.  News  &  Chronicle,  Stawell, 
Vict. ,  565,  696.  Norfolk  Reformer,  Simcoe, 
Ont.,  331,  634,  669.  Northwestern  Christian 
AdvtKate,  Chicago,  499.  Once  a  Month, 
Melbourne,  560.  Our  Young  Folks,  Boston, 
431.  Petit  Journal,  Paris,  657.  Pilot,  Bos- 
ton, 657.  Post  &  Tribune,  Detroit,  505. 
Post-Dispatch,  St.  Louis,  528.  Press,  Phila- 
delphia, 454.  Puck,  N.  Y.,  15,  36,  246,  409, 
497,  669,  673.  Record,  Phila.,  627.  Refor- 
mer, Bennington,  Vt.,  627.  Republican, 
Lansin<;,  Mich.,  505.  Republican,  Spring- 
fi*M,  Ms.,  115,  527.  Royal  Gazette,  Bermuda, 
366.  Round  Table,  N.  Y.,  135.  Saturday 
Press,  N.  Y.,  15.  Scientific  American,  N. 
Y.,  403.  Scribner's  Monthly,  N.  Y.,  431, 
501,658.  Stamboul  Journal,  Constantinople, 
4S2.  Statesman,  Marshall,  Mich.,  323.  Stu- 
dent, Amherst,  Ms.,  114.  Sun,  N.  Y.,  154, 
403.  Table  Talk,  Ottumwa,  la.,  672.  Tas- 
manian  News,  563.  Telegram,  N.  Y.,  280. 
Texas  Sif tings,  668.  Times,  Calais,  Me., 
265.     Times,   N.  Y.,  ii.,  356,  459.    Times, 


Philadelphia,  177.  Times,  Sydney,  N.  S. 
W.,  69S.  Tit  Bits,  London,  xciv.  Tooth- 
pick, Ashmore,  111.,  489.  Transcript,  Port- 
land, 257,  627.  Tribune,  Cambridge,  657. 
Tribune,  Chicago,  323.  Tribune,  N.  Y., 
499.  577.  7*4.  7*7.  Union,  Springfield,  Ms., 
580.  University  Quarterly,  N.  Y.,  469.  Van- 
ity Fair,  N.  Y.,  444.  Yale  Courant,  New 
Haven,  398.  Yale  Literary  Magazine,  New 
Haven,  399-402.    World,  N.  Y.,  584,  720-1, 

Bicycles. 

American  Club,  509.  American  Rudge, 
508.  Arab  Light  Roadster,  535.  Apollo 
Light  Roadster,  321.  Ariel,  504,  519,  541, 
546-7.  Bayliss  &  Thomas,  348.  Bone-shak- 
os. 394.  400-a.  British  Challenge,  183,  508, 
S»o.  543.  545.  559.  5'»».  5^9-  Carver,  503. 
Centaur,  523.  Challenge,  330,  537.  Qub, 
505.  508,  533.  5'^5.  569-  Club  Safety,  566. 
Columbia,  148,  189,  324,  487,  501,  505,  507, 
511,  520,  521,  524,  525,  565,  709,  712-3.  Co- 
lumbia Expert,  47,  59,  149,  237,  244,  388, 474. 
484,492.503.  506,508,510-11,  5'3.  517. 519-20, 
523-30,  575-6,  578.  Columbia  Light  Roadster, 
527-9.  "  Columbia,  Number  234,"  35-48, 
86.  Columbia  Special,  503,  507-8,  511,  520, 
521.  Columbia  Standard,  48,  59,  183,  244, 
378,  474.  484.  488-9,  494,  500,  503,  508,  511, 
5»3.  5«5.  5»9.  523.  528-9.  576.  Coventry,  330. 
Coventry  Ge;itleman,  537.  Coventry  Ma- 
chinist Co.,  663.  Cunningham  Co.,  653,  656, 
66^7.  679.  712.  Desideratum,  537.  D.  E. 
H.  F.  Excelsior,  546,  569.  D.  E.  H.  F. 
Premier,  519,  559,  561,  569.  Duplex  Excel- 
sior, 517,  524,  546.  Eclipse,  541,  547.  Ex- 
traordinary, 4S7,  505.  Facile,  161,  509,  536, 
537.  538,  553»  55  ♦.  555-  Gentleman,  567. 
Gentleman's  Club,  569.  Gentleman's  Road- 
ster, 542,  Gormully  &  Jcffery,  683,,  798. 
Hartford,  401.  Harvard,  138,  189,  493,  50a, 
508,  520,  524.  Hollow  Spoke  Roadster,  542. 
Howe,  552.  Humber,  509,  516,  517,  524,  543. 
Ideal,  493.  Interchangeable,  546.  Invinci- 
ble, 517,  557.  Ivel  Safety,  557-S.  John 
Bull,  507.  Kangaroo,  508-9.  Keen,  547. 
Lynn  Express,  537.  Matchless,  508,  532, 
563.  Monod,  401.  Newton  Challenge,  508. 
Otto,  521,  529.  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  662, 
663-5,  676.  Paragon,  504,  517.  Perfection, 
546.  Pickering,  39a,  400-5.  Pony  Star,  509^ 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  24-6,  36,  40,  42,  47-8. 86, 94, 
139.  »89,  485,  5o«-2f  S"i  5*3,  5*6,  565,  657-60. 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxix 


*64,  7<M-3i  7"-«3f  799-  Premier,  337,  519, 
$*9»  5S9»  5^*1  5^  President,  491.  R.  &  P., 
657.  Regent,  540.  Rover  Safety,  535,  545. 
Royal  Mai],  50S,  527.  Rucker,  509,  530, 
5J6,  542,  543-  Rudge,  128,  139,  183,  321, 
500,  50&-10, 6S9.  Rudge  Light  Roadster,  388, 
50^.  5»3,  526,  56 J,  567,  57S,  679.  Rudge 
Safety,  527.  Safety,  505.  Safety  (King),  672. 
St.  Nicholas,  524.  Sandringham,  538.  Sans- 
parei),  324,  508-9,  520,  524-5,  530.  Shadow, 
50S.  Singer,  348,  527.  Singer  Challenge, 
537.  H.  B.  Smith  Machine  Co.,  671.  Special 
Club,  508.  Stanley,  517.  Stanley  Head  Ex- 
celsior, 546.  Star,  164,  172,  257,  267,  269-71, 
274.  320,  508,  520-1,  525,  530,  549,  575,  577. 
Union,  508.  Velocity,  508.  Victor,  487,  493, 
508,  5x6,  519,  524.5,  527,  676.  Xtra,  348,  505. 
Yale,  508,  509,  516,  519,  530. 

Tricycles. 

Beeston  Humbsr,  557-8,  5SS.  Carver,  535. 
Centaur  Tandem,  535.  Challenge,  686. 
Chcylcsraore  Club,  562,  565-6.  Cheylesmore 
Sociable,  5S9.  Club  Racer,  535.  Club  So- 
ciable, 535.  Columbia,  503,  508,  509,  511, 
528.  Coventry  Convertible,  517.  Coventry 
Rotary,  513,  686.  Crescent,  526.  Cripper, 
5«7,  526,  552,  554.  Dearlove,  543.  Diana, 
6S6u  Excelsior,  503,  569.  Humber,  509,  530, 
5^5.  5*3,  54*5,  55 »»  554-6,  686.  H umber  Tan- 
dem, 509.  Imperial  Club,  535,  554.  Invin- 
cible, 517.  National,  511.  Omnicycle,  686. 
Premier,  524,  686.  Quadrant,  535,  686. 
Rotary,  535.  Royal  Mail,  526,  554.  Royal 
Salvo,  503.  Royal  Salvo  Sociable,  517. 
Rocker,  686.  Rucker  Tandem,  509.  Rudge, 
526.  Rudge  Tandem,  525.  Special  Chal- 
lenge, 535.  Tandem,  535.  Traveller,  509, 
526.    Victor,  508,  509,  526. 

Autobiographic  and  Personal. 

Ancestry,  722-3.  Appointments  for  wheel- 
ing, 730.  Authorship,  iv.,  405,  722-3.  Aver- 
age man  in  physique.  An,  v.,  473.  Awe  an 
unknown  element,  471,  727.  Birthday  Fan- 
tasie  (verse),  A,  23.  Boat-race  manager  at 
New  London,  130.  Bone-shaker  days,  391- 
406.  Book,  History  of  this,  701-719.  Busi- 
ness-man, in  spite  of  myself.  A,  vii.,  483. 
Centenarian  kinsman.  My,  723.  Change  of 
"  Kol  Kron  "  to  "  Karl,"  720.  Qass  poet 
and  historian,  39a,  401.  Collector  of  post- 
ajMtamps,  722.     "  Coll.  Chron."  of  IVarld^  ^ 


720,  723.  Companionship  the  highest  hap- 
piness, 467.  Compensations  of  a  qui^t  life, 
467,731.  Conceit,  732.  Costume  for  riding, 
16-22.  Death,  380,  733.  Deviation  in  career, 
caused  by  cycling,  406.  Digging  my  way  out 
to  freedom,  725.  DiscUimsrs:  as  to  ambition, 
309,  732;  athleticism,  iv. ;  boastfulness,  v., 
5S2 ;  college  honors  and  prizes,  722 ;  competi- 
tion, v.,  484,  721-3;  egotism,  v.,  vii.;  envy, 
v.,  393i  47»,  722,  730;  fams,  309;  hermit-life, 
467;  hero-worship,  464;  literary  skill,  iv., 
716;  notoriety,  vii.,  281,  729;  ostentation, 
729,  732  ;  partisanship,  726  ;  praise,  vi. ;  van- 
ity, v.,  701,  716,  732.  Dislike  for  "literary 
men  ''  and  "  athletes,"  iv.  ;  for  "  medicine- 
men," 62.  Divertissement  as  the  permanent 
element  of  life,  722.  Early  days  with  "  Curl," 
407-25,  471.  Editor  of  college  magazine, 
392-3,  399>  Emersonian  maxims,  723,  732. 
Enemies,  731.  European  travel,  405-6.  Forty, 
v».,  725,  732.  Friends,  467,  726-7.  Gen- 
ealogy, A  student  of,  722.  Gift-taking,  Ob- 
jections to,  713-4.  Golden  Fleas  (verse),  My 
search  for  the,  23,  406.  Government  by  in- 
terference. My  hatred  of,  726.  '*  Great  ex- 
pectations "  as  a  bookseller,  vii.  Happiness, 
Ideal  of  future,  309,  467.  Health,  62,  294, 
307.  Hopefulness  as  a  self-deception,  716. 
Hopes  for  the  future.  Three,  viii.  H  umorous 
sense,  721-2,  727.  Illness,  62,  294.  Indebted- 
ness to  family  and  friends,  727.  Independ- 
ence protected  by  obscurity,  2S0.  Indsx- 
roaker  in  college,  392-3,  401.  Indian  as  an 
ideal,  295,  466.  Indifference  to  "recogni- 
tion," 727.  Impartiality  towards  "  the  trade," 
vii.,  712-4.  Lament  for  the  Legal-Tender 
decision,  464.  League,  Business-stake  in  the, 
720.  Left-hand  penmanship  acquired,  vi., 
483,  710.  Life  as  viewed  in  retrospect,  vi. 
Literary  and  theatrical  people,  Indiffircncs 
to,  iv.,  728.  Literary  ideal.  Simplicity  of,  iv. 
London  life,  405-6,  427,  471.  Longevity, 
Chances  of,  723,  732.  Lost  inheritanc?,  iSo. 
Marriage,  472,  723,  731.  Mechanical  aptitudi, 
Lack  of,  36, 713.  Middh-age,  44,  29*.  Mind 
and  character,  732.  Money-making  capacity, 
vi.,  392,  720,  725.  Mount  Tom,  Aflf-ction  for, 
252.  "  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  Pro- 
posals for,  211,  501,  573,  590,  716-7.  Nar- 
row escapes,  45,  413,  733.  Observation  of 
prominent  people,  "out  of  hamesK,"  727. 
1^  731.  Overwork,  Attempts  to  es- 
^"rsonal  revelations  a  busi- 


Ixxviii      TEN  THOUSAMD  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


N.  V.,6sS.     Church  of  IreLnd  Teipp=rance 

Philadelphia,   177.    Times.  Sydney.   N.  S. 

Vi»l™,6S6.     aipi«r,  N.  V.,4w,6ao.    Coo- 

W.,&^.     Til   Bix,  London,  iciv.     Toolb- 

liotol,  Phili.  (viii.).    Counlfy,  London,  687- 

Cnurier,    BaUarat,    Vici..    561-1.    Courier, 

land.   1S7,   6>7-     Trihnne,    Cambridge,   6S7, 

Buffalo,  N.  v.,    sM.    Couriw.  Roch«w., 

Trihune,  Chicago,    31,.    Trihune.   N.   Y.. 

S77.    D«»cripli«  Amjria.  N.  Y..  .77.    Dis- 

4*).i7?, 7.4,  7"-     Union,  Sprinsfield,  M*., 

patch,  Piuiburg.  ji],    EveniuE  News,  De>- 

jSo.    Uiii.erulyQua[lerly,N.Y.,469.    Van- 

.™i,s.o..   E«™Mr,L«.don,5S..7"-    E:- 

ity  Fair,  N.  Y,.  «v    Vale  Couranl,  Ne- 

PK»,  B„ft.h.,  N.  v.,  SSS.    F.»nk  L«lie'. 

Haven,  398.     Vale  Ijterary  Mataiine.  New 

Sunday  MaB»iiu,=.  N.  v.,  ji,.     Fr«  P««, 

-  Ha«n,  jw^oi.    World,  N,  V-.  584.  7ao-i. 

Abwileen.  Scol.,  jjj.    Genliimtn's  Maga- 

.  tine,    London,   40].    Globe,    Boxon,    61S. 

Good   Word..    London,   6.,   685.     Harpe,'. 

American   Oub,  jo,.    American    Rudge, 

Mjsa.in=.  N.  v.,  <5S.  1.1.  Harp«'.  W«lJy, 

JoS.     Arab    Light     Roadsler,    535,     Apollo 

N.Y., 31)0-1, ,oi-4,47S.43j.    Haiper'i Young 

Liglit  Koadiler,  311.    Ariel.  50),  sig,  m'. 

Peoplt.  N.  y„  6.S.    Heruld,  Auckland,  j6,. 

J46-7.     BayiiMKThomat.  348.    Boneshak- 

H™ld, lto«nu,  ..fr  Hnjid,  N.  v.,  ,OT. 

ers,  ,„,  40O-..    BriiisU  Challenge,  .gj.  joS, 

}Sj,  6;7.    Hecald,  RochMIer,  11&    Herald 

S",  5(3.  its,  557,  j^i,  5*9.    Carver,  joj. 

a  N=w>,  W.  Randolph,  Vt.,  6;..    Journal, 

Centaur,  jij.    Challenge,  jjo,  s)7-    Oub, 

London,  Onl.,  M).     JoumulA  Courier.  New 

SOS,  5o3,  iD,  S*S,  S69.    Cluh  Salety,  s«. 

HuT=n.„t,4o..    KnicktrbockH  Magaiine. 

Columbia.   MS.   iS,,  j,4.  4»,,  50..  S05.  So7, 

N.  Y.,  ,16.    K«H  Siudent,  Gal«bur3,  6sB. 

SM.  5»,  j>.,  5.4.  5.5,  s6i,  70,.  ,,,-j.     Co- 

Lake  Cjo^  Ripple,  N.   Y.,  198-    Uppin- 

lumbia  Expert.  4?,  S9.  .49,  >3?.  i44,  jM.  474. 

totCi  Majuine,   Pl.Oa.,    ,,    .63.  658.  701. 

4S4,49J,SOI.5o6.soi.s<o-i.,siJ,S'7,S'9-~. 

5Ji-30.s75-6.s78-    Columbia  Ughi  Roaduer, 

Knger.  Marhl:h»d.  Ml.  aSi.    Mauachu- 

iJ7-,.      •'  C-olmnbia.    Number  134."    35-48. 

Ktli  Magaiine,  Boilon,  63o.    Mn,  Grundy. 

86,     ColumlMa  Special.  503,  507.8,  511.  jlo. 

N.  V.  («i.).    Morning  Call,  San  Frandtco, 

S,..    Columbia  .Slaodarf.  4S,  S9,  ■»).  a44. 

37a.  474.  484.  4I8-9.  494,  Soo,  Soj.  Jo".  S". 

j7o,6n,    Ne~j,  Chjlsia,  515.    Newi.  Kam- 

S13,  S'Si  so.  3JJ.  S'S-9,  s;6-    Coyentry.  130. 

nan,    SS7.    Coyenii,    Ma- 

Desideiatum.  S}7.    D.  E. 

,   S46,  5^9-    D.   E.   H.  F. 

),  s*',s69.    Duple.  Excel- 

6.     Eclipw.  541.  J47-     K»- 

Soj.    Facile.  .«..  509.  516. 

1.  569.    Gentleman'!  Road- 

nlly    &    Jeffery.   681.,  »8. 

darvard.  .}8,  1S9,  4,j.  joa. 

nilow  Spoke  Roldsier.  541. 

mber,  J09.  516,  517,  jn.  541. 

ichangeahle.   $46.    l»T!nd. 

I«l    Safety,    SS7-S.    Job- 

garoo.    508*     Keen.  „,. 

SJ7.    MalchlcB.  S08.  5J1. 

,.     New™  Challenge,  v». 

0«.man  Wheel  Co..  Mi. 

J9a.  400-5.    Pony  Star,  jo^ 

.4*,  J*.  40.  41.  47-8.86, 94. 

■>.s..,s>i.j.6,s«s.*sy*o. 

INDEX  OF  PERSONS, 


Ixxix 


664,  702.3,  7tj-i3,  799.  Premier,  327,  519, 
529,  559, 561,  569.  President,  491.  R.  &  P., 
657.  Regent,  540.  Rover  Safety,  535,  545. 
Royal  Mail,  50S,  527.  Rucker,  509,  530, 
5J6,  542,  543.  Rudge,  128,  139,  183,  321, 
500,  50S-10,  6S9.  Rudge  Light  Roadster,  388, 
y>%  5»3»  526,  st\,  567,  578,  679.  Rudge 
Safety,  527.  Safety,  505.  Safety  (King),  67a. 
St.  Nicholas,  524.  Sandringham,  538.  Sans- 
parei),  324,  50S.9,  520,  524-5,  530-  Shadow, 
SoS.  Singer,  34*$,  527.  Singer  Challenge, 
537.  H.  B.  Smith  Machine  Co.,  671.  Special 
Club,  50S.  Stanley,  517.  Stanley  Head  Ex- 
celsior, 546.    Star,  164,  172,  257,  267,  267-71, 

274.  320.  50S,  5 20- »»  525.  530,  549.  575.  577- 
Union,  508.  Velocity,  508.  Victor,  487,  493, 
508,  516,  519,  524-5,  527,  676.  Xtra,  348,  505. 
Yale,  508,  509,  516,  519,  530. 

Tricycles. 

Beeston  Humb^r,  557-8,  5S8.  Carver,  535. 
Centaur  Tandem,  535.  Challenge,  686. 
Cheylesmore  Gub,  562,  565-6.  Cheyleamore 
Sociable,  5S9.  Club  Racer,  535.  Oub  So- 
ciable, 535.     Columbia,   503,   508,   507,  511, 

525.  Coventry  Convertible,  517.  Coventry 
RoUry,  513,  686.  Crescent,  526.  Cripper, 
5»7.  5*6,  552,  554.  Dearlove,  543.  Diana, 
686.  Excelsior,  503,  569.  Humber,  509,  530, 
535.  5»3.  54^.  55«.  554-6,  686.  Humber  Tan- 
dem. 509.  Imperial  Club,  535,  554.  Invin- 
cible, 517.  National,  511.  Omnicycle,  686. 
Premier,  524,  686.  Quadrant,  535,  686. 
Rotary,  535.  Royal  Mail,  526,  554.  Royal 
Salvo,  503.  Royal  Salvn  Sociable,  517. 
Rucker,  686.    Rucker  Tandem,  509.    Rudge, 

526.  Rudge  Tandem,  525.  Special  Chal- 
lenge, 535.  Tandem,  535.  Traveller,  509, 
526.     Victor,  508,  509,  526. 

Autobiographic  and  Personal. 

Ancestry,  722-3.  Appointments  for  wheel- 
ing, 730.  Authorship,  iv.,  405,  722-3.  Aver- 
age man  in  physique,  An,  v.,  473.  Awe  an 
unknown  element,  471,  727.  Birthday  Fan- 
tasie  (verse),  A,  23.  Boat-race  manager  at 
New  London,  130.  Bone-shaker  days,  391- 
4o6w  Book,  History  of  this,  701-719.  Busi- 
new  reap,  in  spite  of  mysdf,  A,  vii.,  483. 
Centenarian  kinsman.  My,  7x3.  Change  of 
"  Kol  Kron  "  to  "  Karl,"  720.  Dass  poet 
tod  Iintorian,  392,  401.  Collector  of  post- 
»,  722.    "  Coll.  Chron."  of  U^orld, 


720,  723.  Companionship  the  highest  hap- 
piness, 467.  Compensations  of  a  qui^t  life, 
467,  731.  Conceit,  732.  Costume  for  ridiug, 
x6-22.  D^ath,  380,  733.  Deviation  in  career, 
caused  by  cycling,  406.  Digging  my  way  out 
to  freedom,  725.  Disclaimers :  as  to  ambition, 
309,  732 ;  athleticism,  iv. ;  boastfulness,  v., 
582  ;  college  honors  and  prizes,  722  ;  competi- 
tion, v.,  4S4,  721-3;  egotism,  v.,  vii. ;  envy, 
v.,  393.  47».  722,  730;  fams,  309;  hermit-life, 
467;  hero-worship,  464;  literary  skill,  iv., 
716;  notoriety,  vii.,  2S1,  729;  ostentation, 
729,  732  ;  partisanship,  726 ;  praise,  vi. ;  van- 
ity, V,,  701,  716,  732.  Dislike  for  "literary 
men  "  and  **  athletes,"  iv. ;  for  "  medicine- 
men," 62.  Divertissement  as  the  permanent 
element  of  life,  722.  Early  days  with  "  Curl," 
407-25,  471.  Editor  of  college  magazine, 
392-3.  399.  Emersonian  maxims,  723,  732. 
Enemies,  731.  European  travel,  405-6.  Forty, 
vi.,  725,  732.  Friends,  467,  726-7.  Gen- 
ealogy, A  student  of,  722.  Gift-taking,  Ob- 
jections to,  713-4.  Golden  Fleas  (verse),  My 
search  for  the,  23,  406.  Government  by  in- 
terference. My  hatred  of,  726.  "  Great  ex- 
pectations "  as  a  bookseller,  vii.  Happiness, 
Ideal  of  future,  309,  467.  Health,  62,  294, 
307.  Hopefulness  as  a  self-deception,  716. 
Hopes  for  the  future,  Three,  viii.  H  umorous 
sense,  721-2,  727.  Illness,  62,  291.  Indebted- 
ness to  family  and  friends,  727.  Independ- 
ence protected  by  obscurity,  2S0.  Ind^x- 
maker  in  college,  392-3,  401.  Indian  as  an 
ideal,  295,  466.  Indifference  to  "recogni- 
tion," 727.  Impartiality  towards  "  the  trade," 
vii.,  712-4.  Lament  for  the  Legal-Tender 
decision,  464.  League,  Business-stake  in  the, 
720.  Left-hand  penmanship  acquired,  vi., 
483,  710.  Life  as  viewed  in  retrospect,  vi. 
Literary  and  theatrical  people.  Indifference 
to,  iv.,  728.  Literary  ideal,  Simplicity  of,  iv. 
London  life,  405-6,  427,  471.  Ix>ngevity, 
Chances  of,  723,  732.  Lost  inheritance,  iSo. 
Marriage,  472,  723,  731.  Mechanical  aptitiid*, 
Lack  of,  36,  713.  Middle-age,  44,  291.  Mind 
and  character,  732.  Money-m.iking  capacity, 
vi.,  393. 720,  735.  Mount  Tom,  Aff -ction  for, 
252.  "My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  Pro- 
posals for,  211,  501,  573,  590,  716-7.  Nar- 
row escapes,  45,  413,  733.  Observation  of 
prominent  people,  "out  of  harness,"  727. 
Optimism,  731.  Overwork,  Attempts  to  es- 
cape, 720,  725.    Personal  revelations  a  busi- 


Ixxviii      TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


N.  Y.,6s8.  Church  of  Ireland  Teipperance 
Visitor,  686.  Clipper,  N.  Y.,  494,680.  Con- 
tinent, Phila.  (viii.).  Country,  London,  687. 
Courier,  Ballarat,  Vict.,  561-2.  Courier, 
Buffalo,  N.  v.,  588.  Courier,  Rochester, 
577.  Descriptive  America,  N.  Y.,  177.  Dis- 
patch, Pittsburg,  323.  Evening  News,  Des- 
eret,  520.,  Examiner,  London,  551,  711.  Ex- 
press, Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  588.  Frank  Leslie's 
Sunday  Magazine,  N.  Y.,  323.  Free  Press, 
Aberdeen,  Scot.,  555.  Gentlemen's  Maga- 
zine, London,  403.  Globe,  Boston,  618. 
Good  Words,  London,  62,  685.  Harper's 
Magazine,  N.  Y.,  158, 243.  Harper's  Weekly, 
N.  Y.,  30O-1, 402-4, 475.  433-  Harper's  Young 
People,  N.  Y.,  615.  Herald,  Auckland,  567. 
Herald,  Boston,  114.  Herald,  N.  Y.,  499, 
5^3  •  657*  Herald,  Rochester,  216.  Herald 
&  News,  W.  Randolph,  Vt.,  672.  Journal, 
London,  Out.,  66>  Journal  &  Courier,  New 
Haven,  39S,  401.  Knickerbocker  Magazine, 
N.  Y.,  216.  Knox  Student,  Galesburg,  658. 
L.ike  George  Ripple,  N.  Y.,  198.  Lippin- 
cotl's  Magazine,  Phila.,  i,  16S,  65S,  702. 
Manufacturer's  Gazette,  Boston,  525.  Mes- 
senger, Marbhlijad,  Ms.,  a8i.  Massachu- 
setts Magazine,  Boston,  680.  Mrs.  Grundy, 
N.  Y.  (vii.).  Morning  Call,  San  Francisco, 
493.  Nation,  N.  Y.,  281,  354,  433,  437,  450, 
570,  614.  News,  Chelsea,  525.  News,  Ham- 
burg, Ger.,  551.  News  &  Chronicle,  Stawell, 
Vict.,  565,  696.  Norfolk  Reformer,  Simcoe, 
Ont.,  331,  634,  6S9.  Northwestern  Christian 
Advocate,  Chicago,  499.  Once  a  Month, 
Melbourne,  560.  Our  Young  Folks,  Boston, 
431.  Petit  Journal,  Paris,  697.  Pilot,  Bos- 
ton, 657.  Post  &  Tribune,  Detroit,  505. 
Post-Dispntch,  St.  Louis,  528.  Press,  Phila- 
delphia, 454.  Puck,  N.  v.,  15,  36,  246,  409, 
497,  669,  673.  Record,  Phila.,  627.  Refor- 
mer, Bennington,  Vt.,  627.  Republican, 
Lansing,  Mich.,  505.  Republican,  Spring- 
fii'd,  Ms.,  T15,  527.  Royal  Gazette,  Bermuda, 
366.  Round  Table,  N.  Y.,  135.  Saturday 
Press,  N.  Y.,  15.  Scientific  American,  N. 
Y.,  403.  Scribner's  Monthly,  N.  Y.,  431, 
504,658.  Stamboul  Jnunial,  Constantinople, 
4S2.  Statesman,  Marshall,  Mich.,  333.  Stu- 
dent, Amherst,  Ms.,  114.  Sun,  N.  Y.,  154, 
403.  Table  Talk,  Ottumwa,  la.,  672.  Tas- 
manian  Neww,  563.  Telegram,  N.  Y.,  280. 
Texas  Sittings,  668.  Times,  Calais,  Me., 
265.     Times,   N.  Y.,  ii.,  356,  459.    Times, 


Philadelphia,  177.  Times,  Sydney.  N.  S. 
W.,  696.  Tit  Bits,  London,  xciv.  Tooth- 
pick, Ashmore,  111.,  4S9.  Transcript,  Port- 
land, 257,  627.  Tribune,  Cambridge,  657. 
Tribune,  Chicago,  323.  Tribune,  N.  Y., 
499.  597.  724.  727.  Union,  Springfield,  Ms., 
580.  University  Quarterly,  N.  Y.,  469.  Van- 
ity Fair,  N.  Y.,  444.  Yale  Courant,  New 
Haven,  398.  Yale  Literary  Magazine,  New 
Haven,  399-402.    World,  N.  Y.,  584,  720-1, 

723- 

BiCVCLBS. 

American  Club,  509.  American  Rudge, 
508.  Arab  Light  Roadster,  535.  Apollo 
Light  Roadster,  321.  Ariel,  504,  519,  541, 
546-7.  Bayliss  &  Thomas,  348.  Bone-shak- 
ers, 394,  400-2.     British  Challenge,  183,  508, 

520.  543.  545.  559.  S'J'.  5^-  Carver,  503. 
Centaur,  523.  Challenge,  330,  537.  Club, 
505,  508,  520,  565,  569.  Club  Safety,  566. 
Columbia,  148,  189,  324,  487,  501,  505,  507, 
511,  520,  521,  524,  525.  565.  709.  7*2-3.  Co- 
lumbia Expert,  47,  59,  149,  237,  244,  388,  474, 
4S4.  492.  503.  506,  508,  510-1 1,  513,  5'7. 5'9-2o, 
523-30,  575*6,  578.  Columbia  Light  Roadster, 
527-9.  "  Columbia,  Number  234,"  35-48, 
86.    Columbia  Special,  503,  507-8,  511,  520, 

521.  Columbia  Standard,  48,  59,  183,  244, 
378,  474,  484,  438-9,  494,  500,  503,  508,  511, 
5»3,  5«5.  5«9.  523.  523-9,  576.  Coventry,  330. 
Coventry  Gentleman,  537.  Coventry  Ma- 
chinist Co.,  663.  Cunningham  Co.,  653,  656, 
66^7.  679.  7<2.  Desideratum,  537.  D.  E. 
H.  F.  Excelsior,  546,  569.  D.  E.  H.  F. 
Premier,  519,  559,  561,  569.  Duplex  Excel- 
sior, 5»7,  524,  546.  Eclipse,  541,  547.  Ex- 
traordinary, 487,  505.  Facile,  161,  509,  536, 
537.  533,  553.  554.  555-  Gentleman,  567. 
Gentleman's  Club,  569.  Gentleman's  Road- 
ster, 542.  Gormully  &  Jcffery,  683,,  798. 
Hartford,  401.  Harvard,  138,  189,  493,  502, 
508,  520,  524.  Hollow  Spoke  Roadster,  54a. 
Howe,  552.  Humber,  509,  516,  517,  524,  54a. 
Ideal,  493.  Interchangeable,  546.  Invinci- 
We,  517,  559.  Ivel  Safety,  557-8.  John 
Bull,  507.  Kangaroo,  508-9.  Keen,  547. 
Lynn  Express,  537.  Matchless,  508,  53a, 
563.  Monod,  401.  Newton  Challenge,  508. 
Otto,  521,  529.  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  662, 
663-5,  676-  Paragon,  504,  517.  Perfection, 
546.  Pickering,  392,  400-5.  Pony  Star,  509. 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  24-6,  36,  40,  42,  47-8,  86, 94, 
«39.  »89,  485,  5o«-2.  5"i  523,  526,  565,  657.60, 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxix 


6^f  7<«-3f  7"-»3i  799-  Premier,  327,  519, 
529,559,561,569.  President,  491.  R.  &  P., 
657.  Regent,  540.  Rover  Safely,  535,  545. 
Royal  Mail,  50S,  527.  Ruckcr,  509,  530, 
5J6,  542,  5*3.  Rudge,  128,  139,  183,  321, 
500,  50S-10,  6S9.  Rudge  Light  Roadster,  3S8, 
V>%  5»3i  526,  56],  567,  578,  679.  Rudge 
Safety,  527.  Safety,  505.  Safety  (King),  672. 
St.  Nicholas,  524.  Sandringham,  538.  Sans- 
pareil,  324,  50S-9,  520,  524-5,  530.  Shadow, 
50S.  Singer,  34S,  527.  Singer  Challenge, 
537.  H.  B.  Smith  Machine  Co.,  671.  Special 
Club,  508.  Stanley,  517.  Stanley  Head  Ex- 
c::lsior,  546.  Star,  164,  172,  257,  267,  269-71, 
*74,  320,  50S,  520-1,  525,  530,  549.  575.  577- 
Union,  50^.  Velocity,  50S.  Victor,  487,  493, 
50S,  516,  519,  524.5,  527, 676.  Xtra,  348,  505. 
Yale,  50S,  509,  516,  519,  5JO. 

Tricycles. 

Beeston  H  umber,  557-S,  5SS.  Carver,  535. 
Centaur  Tandem,  535.  Challenge,  686. 
Clieylesmore  Club,  562,  565-6.  Cheylesmore 
Sociable,  5S9.  Club  Racer,  535.  Club  So- 
ciable, 535.  Columbia,  503,  508,  507,  511, 
52S.  Coventry  Convertible,  517.  Coventry 
Rotary,  5J3,  686.  Crescent,  526.  Cripper, 
517,  526,  552,  554.  Dearlove,  543.  Diana, 
6S6.  Excslsior,  503,  569.  Humber,  509,  530, 
515.  543.  54*^.  55 ».  554-6,  686.  Humber  Tan- 
dem. 509.  Imperial  Club,  535,  554.  Invin- 
cible, 517.  National,  511.  Omnicycle,  686. 
Premier,  524,  686.  Quadrant,  535,  686. 
Rotary,  535.  Royal  Mail,  526,  554.  Royal 
Salvo,  503.  Royal  Salvo  Sociable,  517. 
Rucker,  686.  Rucker  Tandem,  509.  Rudge, 
p6.  Rudge  Tandem,  525.  Special  Chal- 
lenge, 535.  Tandem,  535.  Traveller,  509, 
526-     Victor,  508,  509,  526. 

Autobiographic  and  Pbrsonal. 

Ancestry,  722-3.  Appointments  for  wheel- 
ing, 730.  Authorship,  iv.,4os,  722-3.  Aver- 
age man  in  physique.  An,  v.,  473.  Awe  an 
unknown  element,  471,  727.  Birthday  Fan- 
tasie  (verse),  A,  23.  Boat-race  manager  at 
New  London,  130.  Bone-shaker  days,  391- 
«o5.  Book,  History  of  this,  701-719.  Busi- 
ness-man, in  spite  of  myself,  A,  vii.,  483. 
Centenarian  kinsman,  My,  723.  Change  of 
"  Kol  Kron  »'  to  "  Karl,"  720.  Qass  poet 
and  historian,  39a,  401.  Collector  of  post- 
asMtampf ,  722.     "  Coll.  Chron."  of  World, 


720,  723.  Companionship  the  highest  hap- 
piness, 467.  Compensations  of  a  quiqt  life, 
467,  731.  Conceit,  732.  Costume  for  riding, 
i6-22.  Death,  380,  733.  Deviation  in  career, 
caused  by  cycling,  406.  Di:^ing  my  way  out 
to  freedom,  725.  Disclaimers :  as  to  ambition, 
309,  732  ;  athleticism,  iv. ;  boast  fulness,  v., 
5S2  ;  college  honors  and  prizes,  722 ;  competi- 
tion, v.,  484,  721-3;  egotism,  v.,  vii.;  envy, 
v.,  393.  47».  72a.  730;  fame,  309;  hermit-life, 
467;  hero-worship,  464;  literary  skill,  iv., 
716;  notoriety,  vii,,  2S1,  729;  ostentation, 
729,  732  ;  partisanship,  726 ;  praise,  vi. ;  van- 
ity, v.,  701,  716,  732.  Dislike  for  "literary 
men  ''  and  "  athletes,"  iv.  ;  for  "  medicine- 
men," 62.  Divertissement  as  the  permanent 
element  of  life,  722.  Early  days  with  "  Curl," 
407-25,  471.  Editor  of  college  magazine, 
392-3.  399-  Emersonian  maxims,  723,  732. 
Enemies,  731.  European  travel,  405-6.  Forty, 
vi.,  725,  732.  Friends,  467,  726-7.  Gen- 
ealogy, A  student  of,  722.  Gift-taking,  Ob- 
jections to,  713-4.  Golden  Fleas  (verse).  My 
search  for  the,  23,  406.  Government  by  in- 
terference, My  hatred  of,  726.  "  Great  ex- 
pectations "  as  a  bookseller,  vii.  Happiness, 
Ideal  of  future,  309,  467.  Health,  62,  294, 
307.  Hopefulness  as  a  self-deception,  716. 
Hopes  for  the  future,  Three,  viii.  H  umorous 
sense,  721-2,  727.  Illness,  62,  291.  Indebted- 
ness to  family  and  friends,  727.  Independ- 
ence protected  by  obscurity,  280.  Index- 
maker  in  college,  392-3,  401.  Indian  as  an 
ideal,  295,  466.  Indifference  to  "  recogni- 
tion," 727.  Impartiality  towards  "  the  trade," 
vii.,  712-4.  Lament  for  the  Legal-Tender 
decision,  464.  League,  Business-stake  in  the, 
720.  Left-hand  penman.ship  acquired,  vi., 
483,  710.  Life  as  viewed  in  retrospect,  vi. 
Literary  and  theatrical  people,  Indiflirence 
to,  iv.,  728.  Literary  ideal,  Simplicity  of,  iv. 
London  life,  405-6,  427,  471.  Ix>ngevity, 
Chances  of,  723,  732.  Lost  inheritanc?,  iSo. 
Marriage,  472,  723,  73?.  Mechanical  aptitud;, 
Lack  of,  36, 713.  Middle-age,  44,  294.  Mind 
and  character,  732.  Money-making  capacity, 
vi.,  392. 720,  725.  Mount  Tom,  Affection  for, 
252.  "  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  Pro- 
posals for,  211,  501,  573,  590,  716-7.  Nar- 
row escapes,  45,  413,  733.  Observation  of 
prominent  people,  "out  of  harness,"  727. 
Optimism,  731.  Overwork,  Attempts  to  es- 
cape, 720,  725.     Personal  revelations  a  bust- 


xc  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

cannot  be  doubtful ;  for  the  men  who  vote  against  this  "  equal  rights  bill "  wiB  be  persistently 
advertised  and  "  black-listed  "  by  the  many  hundreds  of  vigorous  young  voters  who  have  pal 
their  signatures  to  the  petitions  in  its  behalf.  The  latest  contribution  to  the  literature  of  whed- 
men's  rights  on  the  highways  appears  in  Outing  for  May,  from  the  pen  of  C.  E.  Pratt,  our  ear- 
liest American  student  of  the  subject  (see  p.  503) ;  and  the  latest  grant  from  the  commtsaoners 
of  Prospect  Park  allows  all  tricyclers  as  well  as  bicyclers  to  use  the  footpaths  at  all  hours,  and 
also  the  driveways,— except  two  unimportant  stretches ;  but  lamps  are  required  after  nightfalL 
The  Indiana  Division's  road-map  of  that  State  (scale  9  m.  to  i  in.;  showing  an  area  of  90  na.  n. 
and  s.,  153  m.  e.  and  w.)  was  issued  Apr.  8,  and  may  be  had  by  non-members  for  $r,  on  appli- 
cation to  J.  Zimmerman,  37  S.  Alabama  St.,  Indianapolis.  It  contains  lists  of  officers  and  hotels, 
and  is  folded  in  water-proof  cover.  The  Michigan  Division's  road-book  is  announced  for  May 
10  (see  p.  625).  The  League  men  of  Illinois  intend  that  each  of  the  thirteen  districts,  into 
which  their  State  is  divided  for  representative  purposes,  shall  issue  a  road-map  in  book-form,  3 
by  5}  in.,  accompanied  by  printed  briefs  of  the  tours  outlined  upon  it ;  and  that  each  representa- 
tive shall  keep  for  reference  a  large-scale  map  of  his  district  (^m/.,  Mar.  11,  '87,  p.  208).  The 
long-delayed  general  hand-book  of  the  League  (see  p.  635),  with  34  titles  in  its  contents-Iict, 
was  announced  for  distribution  Jan.  28 ;  and  the  Sec-Ed.  will  gladly  send  several  copies  to  any 
address,  on  receipt  of  4  c.  for  mailing.  Though  the  Jan.  meeting  authorized  a  new  ed.,  to  con- 
tain the  latest  rules  and  be  sold  at  10  c,  no  such  book  seems  likely  to  appear  before  *88.  All  re- 
quests for  the  present  pamphlet,  or  applications  and  money  for  membership  should  be  sent — not 
to  the  address  given  at  foot  of  p.  624,  but — to  Abbot  Bassett,  22  School  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 

By  estimate  of  the  ex-Secretary  (^m/.,  Jan.  38,  p.  71),  about  4000  uniforms  were  soTd  to 
League  men,  by  Browning,  King  &  Co.,  of  N.  Y.,  under  a  contract  which  seems  to  have  been 
rather  carelessly  executed,  and  which,  towards  the  last,  caused  much  dissatisfaction,  by  reason 
of  the  poor  quality  of  cloth  supplied.  The  committee  of  three,  who  were  appointed  to  reform 
the  matter,  advertised  full  specifications  (^«/.,  Apr.  8,  p.  282),  with  intention  to  award  to  low- 
est bidder  by  Apr.  30;  and  they  announced  on  May  2  its  award  to  J.  Wanamaker,  of  Phila.,  at 
following  prices:  Coat,  $6.20;  breeches,  $4.34;  shirt,  $1.95;  hose,  80  c;  cap,  80  c;  doth 
$237  per  yard, — ^all  goods  to  be  delivered  free  at  any  express  office  in  the  U.  S.  The  contract 
lasts  till  Nov.  I,  '89,  and  will  presumably  prove  advantageous  to  the  League,  for  the  reason  that 
its  exceptional  advertising  value  to  the  contractor  fairly  allows  him  to  underbid  all  competitors. 
He  Is  now  ready  to  fill  orders  direct,  and  he  will  soon  mail  to  every  League  man  an  illustrated 
price-list,  with  blanks  for  ordering  and  for  self-measurement.  The  contract  binds  him  to  buy 
a  spedal  sort  of  dark  brown  "  Venetian  "  cloth,  made  at  the  Burlington  Woolen  Mills,  for  $a.  12 
per  yard.  (I  may  add  here,  for  comparison,  and  to  correct  the  record  of  p.  635,  that  the  cloth  for 
C.  W.  A.  suits  is  now  sent  out  by  one  of  the  Chief  Consuls, — C.  Langley,  13  Front  st,  Toronto, 
— for  40  c  per  yard ;  also  that  the  C.  W.  A.  treasury,  on  May  i,  had  a  surplus  of  more  than 
S200,  after  paying  for  the  2d  ed.  of  its  excellent  road-book ;  see  p.  636.)  The  League  cash  bal- 
ance. Mar.  31,  was  $2744.28,  with  113872.39  due  for  advertising.  Against  these  total  assets  of 
$6616.67  were  set  $4352.58  due  the  Divisions  and  $1300.08  for  all  other  accounts,  induding  the 
month's  printing, — thus  leaving  an  apparent  net  balance  of  $964.  The  number  of  Bulietu^s 
pages  has  been  lessened  and  its  advertising  rates  increased ;  so  that  during  April  its  receipts  ex- 
ce^d-d  its  expenditures  by  almost  $100.  The  editor  insists  that  it  will  be  perpetuated  as  a 
weekly,  in  spite  of  the  large  sums  lost  upon  it ;  and  he  predicts  a  membership  of  9224  on  May 
20,  as  compared  with  8463  at  similar  date  in  '86,  and  5176  a  year  earlier.  The  final  report  of  the 
ex-editor  gave  a  ubular  view  of  its  monthly  receipts  and  expenditures  for  '86  (/?»/.,  Jan.  38,  '87, 
p.  71),  showing  a  total  excess  in  the  latter  of  $3470.91 — ^the  only  month  on  the  right-side  of  the 
column  being  May,  with  a  profit  of  $130.  He  argued,  however,  that  the  deficiency  merely 
showed  that  members  paid  34  c.  each  for  a  weekly  paper  which  would  cost  them  at  least  $1  each 
if  not  published  on  the  co-operative  plan  ;  and  he  predicted  that  in  '87  the  paper  might  be  made 
self-supporting.  Its  original  heading  was  superseded  by  a  more  artistic  design  when  the  fourth 
semi-annual  volnme  began, — Jan.  7,  '87, — but  its  paper  and  typography  have  both  been 
ened  since  the  removal  to  Boston. 


ADDENDA:   LEAGUE  POLITICS.  xci 

The  Lesigne's  Transportation  Committee  baa  won  two  notable  victories  since  last  July,  when 
pp.  594-6  were  electrotyped.  At  end  of  Dec,  the  N.  Y.  Central  r.  r.  issued  orders  that  a  pas- 
senger's bicycle  be  carried  free  on  local  trains,  iu  place  of  other  baggage,  provided  he  presented 
it  to  baggageman,  ten  minutes  before  train-time,  and  signed  a  release  of  liability.  Another  im- 
portani  tnmk-line,  the  Chicago  &  Northwesteni,  against  which  wheelmen  have  sometimes  spoken 
hard  words,  adopted  the  same  enlightened  system  in  April,  and  regularly  announces  in  the  offi» 
dal  time-tables  that  bicycles  can  be  checked  as  baggage.  1  have  also  found  the  following  addi- 
tional free  Hoes  named  in  the  BicycU  South  (Aug.,  '56) :  Alabama  Great  Southern ;  Cincinnati 
Southern  ;  Georgia  Pacific ;  Louisville,  New  Orleans  &  Texas ;  Mobile  8l  Ohio ;  New  Orleans 
&  Northeastern;  Newport  News  &  Miss.  Valley  (Va.,  May  i,  '87),  Vicksburg  &  Meridian; 
Vicksburg,  Shreveport  &  Pacific.  Several  of  these  have  been  secured  by  C.  H.  Genslinger,  and 
the  latest  information  about  Southern  r.  r.'s  may  be  had  on  applying  to  him  at  116  Gravier  St., 
New  Orleans.  W.  P.  Way,  of  Belleville,  Ont.,  in  behalf  of  the  C.  W.  A.  Trans.  Com.  re- 
ported these  free  roads,  Oct.  13,  '86,  in  addition  to  the  7  more-important  ones  on  p.  59S :  Canada 
Atlantic,  Central  Ontario,  Kingston  &  Pemboke,  Napaoee  &  Tamworth,  New  Brunswick 
Quebec  Central,  South  Eastern. 

LoNzx>N  AssuRANCB.— I  am  obliged  to  withdraw  the  mild  recommendation  made  upon  pp. 
642,  69r,  that  Americans  subscribe  for  the  "  C.  T.  C,"  as  the  cheapest  device  forgetting  an 
English  monthly  which  would  tell  them  about  foreign  touring.  On  p.  64a,  I  explain  how  its 
editor  is  the  real  executive  chief  of  the  concern  which  nominally  employs  him ;  and  on  p.  691 
he  writes  himself  down  as  a  very  ill-mannered  person  ;  but  I  had  assumed  he  was  at  least  an 
honest  one, — however  supercilious  and  autocratic,— until  he  gave  public  testimony  to  the  con- 
trary, under  oath  as  a  witness,  "  in  the  High  Court  of  Justice,  Queen's  Bench  Division,  before 
Mr.  Justice  Wills  and  a  common  jury,"  Monday,  Nov.  aa,  1886.  This  date  may  properly  be 
remembered  as  marking  when  the  C.  T.  C.  was  "  foundered  in  London,"— in  contrast  to 
"Ai^.  5,  '78,"  when  it  was  "  founded  at  Harrogate."  The  "  Sec-Ed."  appeared  as  plaintiff 
in  a  libel  suit  for  $1000  against  the  writer  and  the  publisher  of  a  column-article  in  Cycling  Timtt 
of  July  7,  '85,  called  "  The  Promptings  of  Duty  are  Inexorable  " — which  article  was  chiefly 
given  to  ridiculing  the  pretensions  of  the  Gazette  as  of  business  value  to  its  advertisers  and  of 
literary  value  to  its  readers.  This  was  from  the  pen  of  a  certain  J.  B.  Marsh,  of  the  editorial 
stafiE  of  the  StoMdardt  a  leading  London  daily ;  and  the  fact  of  his  quarter-century's  connection 
with  the  press  of  that  city,  and  authorship  of  some  16  books,  would  seem  to  show  his  age  as 
about  50.  An  insolent  attack  upon  him  in  the  GaaetU  of  May,  '84,— «xposing  a  purely  private 
*'  touring  challenge  "  of  his  to  a  Boston  acquaintance  (J.  S.  Phillips,  lit.  ed.  of  IVAee/man ;  see 
pp.  S58,  656),  written  by  agreement  upon  the  window-pane  of  an  Alpine  inn, — led  him  to  investi- 
gate the  sort  of  government  which  thus  gave  an  "  official  editor  "  full  power  to  send  over  the 
world  printed  ridicule  and  sarcasm  of  all  such  C.  T.  C.  members  as  might  not  be  pleasing  to 
him.  The  result  was  a  series  of  six  articles  signed  "Anti- Humbug,"  which  exposed  with  un- 
pleasant clearness  the  need  of  "  C.  T.  C.  Reform  " ;  and,  inferentially,  the  hopelessness  of  it 
without  first  getting  rid  of  the  autocrat  who  was  making  a  good  living  out  of  the  perpetuation  of 
abmes.  These  pieces  appeared  in  many  of  the  cycling  papers ;  and  were  followed  by  an  attempt 
of  their  author,  at  a  C.  T.  C.  semi-annual  meeting  of  Dec,  '84,— the  largest  ever  held, — to  em- 
body them  in  legislation,  as  recorded  in  Gawttie.  The  natural  failure  of  this  attempt  naturally 
led  the  "  Sec-Ed."  to  grow  more  boldly  abusive,  until  at  last  he  had  the  temerity  to  undertake 
the  libel  suit.  Meanwhile,  our  Philadelphian  artist,  J.  Pennell,  had  chanced  to  send  a  letter 
from  Italy  to  the  Gaseiie,  in  reproof  of  something  which  two  young  American  riders  had  printed, 
and  he  closed  by  saying  that  people  "  did  not  want  such  exaggerated  stories."  The  "  Sec- Ed:" 
ioterpolated  the  words,  "  nor  the  vaporings  of  elderly  guidtmnes**  and  printed  the  whole  over 
J.  P.'s  signature,  afterwards  telling  him  that  the  forged  phrase  was  designed  to  apply  to  J.  B. 
Mardi.  Heooe,  as  aooa  m  the  libel-suit  opened,  and  the  latter's  counsel  had  got  the  "  Sec-Ed. " 
pbiotiff  tn  the  wte(MI|tH^||f  promptly  extorted  from  him  a  confession  of  the  forgery,  and 

-^nt  to  refer  to  Mr.  Marsh,  the  writer  of  the  alleged  libel. 


A 


xciv         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

lottd  applause,**  and  was  rejected  with  the  other  three  officers  :  Lord  Bury,  Pres. ;  W.  B. 
Tanner,  V.  Pres.,  A.  R.  Sheppee,  Treas.  The  latter*s  "  financial  scheme  "  was  adopted  at  a 
council-meeting  of  Apr.  ai,  with  only  5  dissenting  votes  from  among  the  70  delegates  present, 
while  the  proxy  votes  were  also  in  its  favor,  5a  to  13.  The  scheme  orders  the  Executive  to  in-  * 
corporate  the  following  changes  in  their  rules  :  "  (1)  That  the  subscription  to  the  Union  be  at 
the  rate  of  $1.25  per  annum  for  all  members,  the  representation  being  at  the  rate  of  one  delegate 
for  every  25  members,  and  each  member  shall  be  entitled  to  a  copy  of  the  N.  C.  U.  Review. 
(2)  That  aflUiated  dubs  shall  sulncribe  I2.62  per  annum,  and  shall  be  entitled  to  one  delegate 
on  the  Council,  provided  there  be  more  than  10  members,  but  in  the  event  of  an  affiliated  club 
possessing  more  than  25  members,  it  shall  have  the  option  of  appointing  another  delegate  for 
every  25  members  or  portion  thereof  on  payment  of  an  additional  $2.62  for  every  25  members 
or  portion  thereof.  (3)  That  Local  Centers  shall  retain  $1.37  per  $2.62  of  the  subscription  of 
each  affiliated  club,  and  37  c.  of  the  subscription  of  each  member,  and  that  all  copies  of  the  Re- 
view or  agenda  be  sent  from  the  head  office  direct  to  members." 

The  foregoing  is  intimately  related  to  the  fact  that  on  Jan.  i,  '87,  the  Anfield  B.  C,  of 
Liverpool  (which  seems  to  be  the  most  active  and  important  riding  dub  in  Great  Britain,  judged 
by  the  records  on  road  and  path  accredited  to  its  exceptionally  large  membership),  addressed  to 
the  N.  C.  U.  Council  a  manifesto  demanding  5  reforms,  with  a  bold  threat  of  secession  and  war 
in  case  of  refusal.  The  document  begins  thus  :  "  (i)  We  ask  for  the  instant  resdssion  of  all 
sentences  of  suspension  passed,  not  only  upon  riders  who  are  suspected  of  '  makers'  amateur- 
ism,' but  also  upon  men  who  have  been  suspended  for  competing  against  the  said  riders.  Our 
view  of  the  matter  is,  that  neither  the  N.  C.  U. ,  nor,  indeed,  any  power  upon  earth,  can  prevent 
riders  receiving  (if  they  so  desire)  from  manufacturers  remuneration  in  some  shape  or  form  for 
services  rendered  ;  and  it  is  evident  that  great  injury  will  be  done  to  the  sport  by  barring  from 
amateur  competitions  men  who  are  probably  the  very  best  and  most  straightforward  riders  in 
the  kingdom,  and  who  have  been  singled  out  as  examples  because  their  splendid  performances 
have  made  them  too  conspicuous."  The  lesser  demands  are,  in  brief  :  "  (2)  Equal  rights  of 
the  provinces  with  London,  in  the  fixing  and  management  of  championships.  (3)  Instant  re- 
peal of  the  law  fixing  the  maximum  value  of  prizes  at  $26.  (4)  The  allowing  of  winners  to  se- 
lect their  prizes.  (5)  Deletion  of  the  rule  which  prevents  professionals  from  acting  as  pace- 
makers for  amateurs."  In  answer  to  this,  the  Sec.  of  N.  C.  U.  issued  a  sophistical  defense  of 
"  amateurism  "  (covering  5  columns  of  fVAee/iMg-,  Jan.  36),  insisting  that  the  first  demand 
"  should  be  unhesitatingly  rejected,  as  its  admission  would  render  the  Union  a  laughing-stock 
among  amateurs  " ;  but  he  made  no  effort  to  controvert  any  of  the  logic  in  the  IVheeling^  series 
(by  J.  R.  Hogg,  see  p.  649)  which  so  deveriy  exposed  why  "  amateurism  "  itself  is  such  a 
laughing-stock  among  men-of-the-world ;  and,  "  from  start  to  finish  he  gave  not  a  single  hint, 
suggestion,  or  admission,  that  his  opponents  could  possibly  be  actuated  by  wqrthy  motives." 
The  angry  Liverpool  men,  on  the  other  hand,  took  no  firm  stand  on  logically  unassailable 
ground;  but  proclaimed,  rather,  the  good  old  hypocritical  maxim  that  they  "favored  the  law 
but  were  agin'  the  enforcement  of  it."  In  other  words,  they  prattled  against  the  "  injustice  of 
suspending  a  rider  on  suspidon  of  having  violated  the  rule  of  '  amateurism,'  and  forcing  him  to 
actively  prove  his  innocence," — though  the  only  possible  chance  of  giving  effect  to  any  such 
piece  of  sodal  etiquette  as  "  the  amateur  law  "  is  by  resort  to  just  this  reversal  of  ordinary  legal 
processes.  A  sufficient  answer  to  all  twaddle  about  "  unfairness,"  "  star  chamber  justice," 
letires  de  cachet  and  the  like,  is  the  fact  that  no  one  innocent  of  violating  "amateurism  "  need 
have  the  least  difficulty  in  proving  his  innocence.  The  real  unfairness  lies  in  the  impossibility 
of  applying  the  rule  of  "  suspension  on  suspicion  "  with  any  uniformity,  or  of  punishing  any 
large  number  of  "the  guilty."  Hence,  as  IVkteling-  says,  "to  those  behind  the  scenes,  the 
collection  of  suspended  goats  on  the  one  side  and  honored  sheep  on  the  other  is  highly  amus- 
ing, and  we  are  only  sorry  that  Mr.  Todd  and  his  colleagues  have  not  a  keener  sense  of  the 
ridiailons.  If  they  had,  they  would  probably  soon  add  a  sense  of  what  was  just."  This  lack  of 
a  sense  of  humor  was  further  shown  at  the  meeting  of  Feb.  3,  when  Mr.  T.,  having  defeated  by 
a  vote  of  13 1  to  38  the  Liverpool  men's  attack  on  "amateurism,'*  immediately  put  through. 


ADDENDA:    LONDON  ASSURANCE.  xcv 

%  two-thirds  vote  to  rescind  the  decree  of  the  last  previous  meeting,  Dec.  9,  which  had  by  a 
bare  majority  reduced  the  allowable  maximum  value  of  prizes  from  $52  to  %ib.  The  author 
of  this  I  eduction  was  W.  McCandlish,  of  Wheeling  ;  who  thus  proved  anew  the  hollowuess  of  the 
"amateurs'"  assumed  preference  for  "glory,"  by  forcing  them  to  show  how  quickly  they 
would  compel  the  vacillating  Council  to  give  them  a  larger  slice  of  something  more  tangible. 

Obedient  to  the  threat  of  the  Anfield  B.  C,  the  Liverpool  Local  Center  of  the  N.  C.  U. 
iras  dissolved.  Mar.  i,  and  this  act  represented  the  withdrawal  of  about  1000  men';  the  leader 
of  whom  dedares  that  if  the  Council  dares  to  go  on  in  its  avowed  policy  of  suspension,  "  there 
»i!l  be  two  sets  of  championships  fought  out  iu  England  on  identioil  days ;  otherwise,  sport 
must  cease  to  exist."  These  words  are  from  his  letter  to  IV heeling  oi  k^it.  6;  and  the  edi- 
torial comment  is  this :  "  The  public  may  rest  assured  that  there  will  be  no  more  suspensions. 
Meantime,  the  victims  selected  for  immolation  upon  the  altar  of  outraged  amateurism  are  to 
stand  down  from  their  wheels  and  look  on  at  those  who  are  in  exactly  the  same  position  as  them- 
selves in  some  cases,  and  in  much  worse  position  in  others,  winning  amateur  races."  The  N.  C. 
U.  races  are  all  to  be  run  at  Birmingham  (May  30,  July  a,  4,  23,  Aug.  i),  having  been  farmed 
out  at  a  fixed  sum  to  the  owner  of  the  Aston  grounds  there,  who  assumes  all  the  risk.  "  The 
interests  of  sport  appear  thus  to  have  been  uttarly  ignored  in  pursuit  of  the  one  object  of  money- 
gaining,  and  it  looks  very  much  as  though  the  Executive  had  been  influenced  by  a  desire  to 
cement  the  loyalty  of  the  Birmingham  Local  Center,  by  this  exceptional  favor."  So  says  the 
Cycling  Journal  of  Mar.  25 ;  to  which  the  Cyclist  of  Mar.  30  responds  thus :  "  The  fact  re- 
nuius  that,  as  the  C.  T.  C.  finds  its  uniform  department  to  be  indispensable,  so  the  Union, 
under  the  present  circumstances,  must  have  funds  from  its  championships,  and  these  funds  must 
\iz  a  certainty."  Its  total  income  in  '86  was  $1725  and  its  expenses  exceeded  this  by  $845,  ex- 
clusive of  a  loss  of  $750  caused  by  running  the  championships  according  to  "  amateurism  "  (see 
p.  64S}.  Of  its  income,  $225  came  from  racing-permits  and  entry-forms,  and  the  rest  from  mem- 
bership fees,  exclusive  of  the  half  which  the  Local  Centers  retained  for  home  use,  by  rule  on  p.648. 
The  treasurer's  estimate  of  Mar.  30  was  that,  with  the  utmost  economy,  the  '87  expenses  must 
exceed  the  '86  income  by  at  least  $150,  while  the  '87  income  would  at  the  same  time  (under  the 
old  system)  fall  below  that  of  '86  by  1^350  to  $400, — on  account  of  the  secession  of  many  impor- 
tant dubs, — ^a  total  deficit  of  at  least  $500.  Whether  the  new  scheme  of  increasing  the  fees 
from  25  c  \o%\.^%  will  prove  popular  enough  to  save  the  Union  from  threatened  dissolution, 
experience  only  can  decide.  Wfueling^s  plan  of  a  radng  register,  requiring  an  entry  fee  of 
I1.25  from  each  competitor  (p.  649),  met  with  so  little  acceptance  at  the  meeting  of  Feb.  3  that 
it  was  withdrawn  without  a  vote  ;  but  that  paper  nevertheless  gives  its  hearty  support  to  the 
actual  scheme  of  the  new  Executive,  saying  :  "  If  it  fails,  the  Union  will  surely  die ;  and  it 
would  be  a  crying  disgrace  to  the  wheel  craft,  if  we  were  left  without  any  governing  body  at 
all  "  (Mar.  30).  "  With  all  its  faults,  it  is  preferable  to  the  intolerable  autocracy  of  the  C.  T.  C. ; 
and  the  latter 's  recent  appeal  to  the  Board  of  Trade  for  incorporation  implies  a  design  of  swal- 
lowing the  Union,  if  ever  its  membership  gets  reduced  to  1000  or  even  to  2000  "  (Apr.  20).  In 
(»ie  of  several  letters,  urging  the  formation  of  a  separate  Scottish  Union,  the  following  words 
appear :  "  The  N.  C.  U.  is  only  national  on  paper,  and,  in  reality,  is  limited  to  London  and 
the  Southern  English  counties.  It  is  not  merely  local  in  its  popularity,  but  also  local  in  its 
feeling."  The  new  managers  promise,  however,  that,  if  supported,  they  will  pay  more  atten- 
tion than  formerly  to  matters  outside  of  racing.  Thus,  as  regards  repressive  local  by-laws  they 
say :  "  II  cyclists  are  still  required  to  carry  lights,  the  Executive  will,  as  opportunity  arises, 
seek  to  secure  that  the  protection  they  are  bound  to  give  others  shall  be  extended  to  themselves, 
by  an  enactment  requiring  other  vehicles  to  carry  lights." 


Books. — My  474th  page,  written  in  Dec,  '8s,  says :  "  '  From  San  Francisco  to  Teheran,' 
a  simple  reprint  of  the  Outing  series  by  T.  Stevens,  would  make  a  more  readable  book  than  any 
existing  specimens  of  cycling  literature,  even  if  his  destruction  in  China  should  prevent  the  ex- 
pected enlargement  of  it  into  'Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle.'  "    As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  fint 


xcvi         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

volume  of  the  latter  is  to  be  published  this  May  by  the  Scribners,  of  N.  Y.,  having  the  fomer 
phrase  as  an  alternative  title  upon  each  left-hand  page.  The  pages  are  about  5  by  8  in.  in  size, 
and  there  are  547  of  them,  exclusive  of  the  introductory  ones  containing  a  dedication  to  Col.  A. 
A.  Pope,  a  short  preface  by  Col.  T.  W.  Higginson,  and  lists  of  the  no  illustrations  and  of  the 
a  I  chapter-titles,  which  are  identical  with  those  employed  in  Outinj^.  The  frontispiece  is  a  col- 
ored lithograph  of  the  author,  "  as  he  appeared  when  riding  round  the  world,"  but  it  is  too 
much  idealized  to  be  recognizable  as  a  portrait,  though  I  believe  a  fairly-good  one,  from  a  photo- 
graph, appears  upon  a  later 'page.  Except  for  a  few  revisions  and  corrections,  the  text  has  not 
been  changed  from  the  form  first  given  in  magazine.  The  type  is  large  and  clear,  carrying  475 
words  to  the  page  (40  lines  of  about  12  words),  so  that  the  total  does  not  exceed  230,000, — allow- 
ing 30,000  for  space  taken  by  pictures  and  blanks.  There  are  no  indexes.  The  price  is  $4,  and 
an  autographed  copy  will  be  mailed  by  the  author  himself,  on  receipt  of  that  sum  at  Outing 
office,  140  Nassau  St.,  N.  Y.  His  personal  profit  on  each  volume  thus  sold  will  be  four  times  as 
great  as  on  a  copy  sold  by  his  publishers  through  the  bookstores ;  and  these  ordinary  trade  copies 
will  not  have  the  autograph.  The  1st  ed.  in  N.  Y.  will  be  2000,  and  a  similar  issue  will  probably 
be  made  simultaneously  in  London,  by  S.  Low,  Marston  &  Co.,  from  plates  which  were  shipped 
to  them  by  the  Scribners,  Apr.  30.  Englishmen  may  send  orders  for  autographed  copies, 
through  H.  Sturmey,  of  Coventry,  or  directly  to  the  author,  for  i6s.  6d.  On  the  last  line  of  my 
own  story  of  his  wonderful  tour  (pp.  473-84,  570-2),  I  was  able  to  announcs  his  safe  arrival  at 
the  starting  point,  San  Francisco,  Jan.  7.  The  cycling  clubs  kept  him  there  for  a  week,  to  en- 
joy elaborately-planned  ceremonies  of  welcome  ;  and  he  was  lionized  with  great  heartiness  at 
several  other  points,  until  at  last  he  reached  N.  Y.,  Feb.  13,  where  the  Citizens  B.  C.  had 
arranged  a  banquet  in  his  honor,  which  was  held  Feb.  23,  while  the  Mass.  B.  C.  entertained 
him  similarly  at  Boston,  Feb.  25.  He  then  accepted  an  engagement  to  edit  the  cycling  depart- 
ment of  Outings  and  to  continue  therein  the  series  of  monthly  articles,  completing  his  adventures 
in  Asia,  which  series  will  ultimately  be  republished  in  a  second  large  volume.  His  first  attempt 
at  a  book  ms.,  "Across  America  "  (see  p.  474,  where  my  remark  about  his  "  school  days  ending 
at  18  "  ought  to  read  "  14  "),  is  not  to  be  printed,  though  extracts  may  be  occasionally  used,  as 
in  the  series  of  four  pieces  for  Harper* s  Young  People.  By  invitation  of  local  wheelmen,  he 
has  delivered  lectures  at  Scranton,  Apr.  12  ;  Brooklyn,  i6th  ;  Washington,  20th  ;  Auburn,  22d ; 
Cleveland,  May  4 ;  Hartford,  6th  ;  and  the  success  of  these  has  been  sufficient  to  lead  to  a  regu- 
lar engagement  as  a  lecturer  during  the  autumn  and  winter  of  '87-S,  under  the  management  of 
Major  Pond,  to  whom  should  be  addressed  all  communications  on  the  subject,  at  the  Everett 
House,  Union  Square,  N.  Y. 

As  I  declared  when  Stevens  reached  Teheran  that  his  adventure  seemed  to  me  "  the  most 
remarkable  and  interesting  exploit  ever  accomplished  by  a  bicycle  or  ever  likely  to  be  accom- 
plished "  (p.  483),  and  predicted  that  his  report  of  it  would  prove  "  more  interesting  to  the  gen- 
eral reader  than  any  cycling  book  in  existence  "  (p.  655)1  I  a"*  g^^  now  to  make  room  for 
these  two  extracts  from  the  English  press,  which  his  publishers  use  in  heralding  the  actual 
book  :  "  Mr.  Thomas  Stevens  need  have  little  doubt  that  the  most  splendid  piece  of  personal 
adventure  of  this  century  will  be  placed  to  his  credit.  Yamb^iry  making  the  great  pilgrimage  as 
a  dervish,  Bumaby  riding  to  Khiva,  O' Donovan  penetrating  to  Merv — ^to  mention  only  the  first 
that  come  to  mind,  will  always  rank  high  in  the  annals  of  daring :  but  for  the  originality  of  its 
idea,  the  physical  endurance  and  pluck  necessary  for  its  execution,  the  dangers  involved  in  it,  and 
its  own  inherent  interest,  this  bicycle  trip  round  the  world  will  pretty  certainly  remain  unequaled 
in  our  time  "  (Ai//  Mall  Gazette).  "  The  mere  moral  courage  demanded  of  the  man  who  essays 
an  expedition  into  regions  where  such  an  outlandish  carriage  has  never  before  been  seen  is  suffi- 
ciently notable  to  entitle  Mr.  Stevens  to  the  credit  which  he  will  no  doubt  obtain  for  his  plucky 
exploit.  No  man  who  honors  courage,  pluck,  endurance — no  man  who  is  capable  of  understand- 
ing those  qualities — will  feel  anything  but  admiration  for  him.  To  circle  the  earth  on  a  wheel  is 
in  itself  a  novelty,  and  as  a  method  of  seeing  around  one  it  is  also  a  great  deal  more  effective 
than  any  other  method*'  {London  Standard).  I  think  it  worth  while,  also,  to  add,  as  illustra- 
tive of  the  cheap  sneers  thrown  out  by  the  English  cycling  papers,  even  at  the  very  time  when  the 


ADDENDA:   BOOKS.  xcvii 

traveler  was  facing  his  greatest  dangers,  the  following  foot-note  to  a  letter  in  C.  T.  C.  Gaa§tU 
of  Oct.  (p.  414),  whose  writer  said  he  had  been  asked,  in  a  remote  French  town,  "if  he  was  the 
man  riding  round  the  world.'*  The  editorial  forger  whom  Mr.  Justice  Wills  censured,  the  next 
month,  for  having  "  indulged  in  the  most  vulgar  abuse  and  in  the  worst  style,"  improved  the 
chance  to  say  :  "  Refers  to  Stevens,  who  is  carrying  out  an  advertising  ride  for  the  American 
journal  OtUingV  As  regards  that  magazine  itself,  the  following  letter  was  received  by  me  from 
its  chief  editor.  Mar.  19,  in  correction  of  my  remark  on  p.  660  :  "  In  Dec,  '85,  Col.  Pope  sold 
the  controlling  interest  to  a  syndicate  of  New  York  gentlemen,  and,  in  Feb.,  '87,  I  bought  the 
balance  of  his  stock.  No  one  at  present  owns  any  share  in  it  except  the  following,  who  form 
the  board  uf  directors  of  the  Outing  Co.:  P.  Bigelow,  pres.  and  ed.;  W.  U.  Schumacher,  sec. 
and  treas.;  T.  Stevens,  C.  E.  Clay,  C.  B.  Vaux,  Le  Grand  Bsnedict.  All  of  these  are  wheel- 
men except  the  last, — the  advertising  manager,— and  he  has  a  son  now  in  college  who  rides  the 
bicycle.  In  addition  to  this  office  staff.  Outing  is  assisted  by  an  outside  body  of  specialists,  on 
sporting  subjects,  and  it  is  absolutely  free  from  all  connection  with  any  manufacturing  or  trade 
interest.  With  every  indication  that  cycling  is  once  more,  under  T.  Stevens,  to  take  the  old 
place  of  honor  in  its  pages,  we  may  safely  predict  for  Outing  a  permanent  career  of  increasing 
Qsefulness  in  its  special  field." 

"  Pedal  and  Path  "  (32  chapters,  250  pp.,  about  140,000  words,  as  or  30  engravings,  price 
75c. ;  Hartford  :  Tha  Evening  Post  Association,  June,  '87}  is  ths  title  finally  adopted  for  the 
book  which  I  have  indexed  on  p.  Ixxv.  as  "  From  0<%an  to  Ocean  on  a  Bicycle."    Its  author 
is  G.  B.  Thayer  (b.  May  13,  '53),  who  was  a  grocer's  clerk  at  Vernon,  Ct.,  '69-*7i,  then  a  grocer 
on  bis  own  account  till  the  close  of  '85,  and  who  has  been  employed  since  Nov.,  '86,  in  the  office 
of  the  newspaper  named,— having  served  it  as  correspondent  during  the  tour,  which  he  also 
briefly  outlined  in   Bulletin^  Sept.  30,  Nov.  iz.     He   rode  the  bone-shaker  in  '7o-*73 ;  first 
mounted  the  hi.  in  'S3  ;  rode  1047  m.  in  '84,  ind.  a  day's  run  of  100  m.  to  New  Haven  and  back  ; 
and  2564  m.  in  '85,  incl.  June  tour  of  175  m.  along  the  Sound,  Sept.  tour  of  480  m.  through  R. 
I.,  and  Oct.  and  Nov.  tour  of  1200  m.  through  White  Mtn's  (p.  576).     He  had  only  3  falls  in  '85, 
when  he  rode  13S6  m.  without  a  fall,  1896  m.  in  3  months,  and  8ox  m.  in  28  days.     His  '86  tour 
began  at  Vernon,  Apr.  lo,  and  ended  at  Baltimore,  after  4236  m.  of  wheeling,  and  nearly  7000  m. 
of  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  travel, — the  total  outlay  for  the  entire  period  being  only  ^280.     He  used  a  Lakin 
cydom.,  a  corduroy  suit  with  leather  seat,  carried  a  knapsack  on  shoulders,  and  rode  a  46  in.  Ex- 
pert, whose  full  record  was  thus  increased  to  7900  m.,  without  putting  it  at  all  out  of  condition. 
A  break  in  lis  head,  on  return  tour  in  Kansas,  was  the  only  one  serious  enough  to  cause  delay, 
and  he  had  only  3  falls  which  forced  him  to  drop  the  machine,  and  these  caused  him  no  hurt. 
His  longest  day's  ride  was  76  ra.,  best  stretch  of  riding  was  from  Columbus  to  Indianapolis,  and 
kmgest  straightaway  was  from  Vernon  to  Omaha,  nearly  1900  m.     He  there  took  train  to  Den- 
Ter,and  afterwards  used  both  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  in  exploring  California  and  Oregon,  and  on  homeward 
trip,  as  he  journeyed  for  the  pleasure  of  it,  and  not  to  make  a  "  record,"— paying  his  own  ex- 
penses and  receiving  no  gift  or  stipend  from  any  one.     In  this  respect  he  diflsred  notably  from 
two  other  cross^rontinent  riders  of  '86,  who   were  commissioned   by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.    The 
first  of  these,  F.  E.  Van  Meerbeke  (b.  about  1865),  left  the  N.  Y.  City  Hall  at  noon  of  Mar.  i, 
and  wheeled  to  Lynchburg,  Va.,  435  m.,  in  133  h.  of  actual  riding;  then  by  Atlanta,  Montgom- 
ery, New  Orleans,  Houston,  and  Tucson,  to  Yuma  (Ariz.),  Aug.  18,  when  he  reported  3313  m. 
wheeled  in  the  i<^  days  from  N.  Y.,  and  said  he  exjiected  to  reach  San  Francisco  on   Sept.  10. 
I  believe  he  did  get  there  then,  though  forced  to  take  train  at  certain  places  on  account  of  floods. 
My  three  letters  inquiring  for  details  never  brought  an  answer;  neither  did  the  cycling  press  of 
'85  CTcr  allude  to  his  "  tour  from  N.  Y.  to  Denver  and  back,"  which  the  papers  of  '86  vaguely 
accredited  him  with  having  taken  then.    The  other  '86  long-distance   man  employed  by  the 
Popes  was  S.  G.  Spier  (b.  Nov.  9,  '64),  of  New  Lebanon,  N.  Y.,  who  started  from  Albany 
June  I  and  reached  San  Francisco  Sept.  9,— adhering  pretty  closely  to  the  route  of  T.  Stevens. 
I  devoted  a  day  to  making  an  abstract  of  the  type-written  copy  of  his  daily  log,  but  am  unable 
to  print  it  for  want  of  space.     I  think  he  really  covered  the  distance,  but  his  mileage  figures  are 
eatirdy  untrustworthy,  though  professedly  taken  from  Church  cyclom.,  which  Salt  Lake  City 


xcviii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

men  report  to  rae  as  out  of  order  at  that  point.  The  BL  IVorld  of  Oct.  22  (p.  592)  printed  a 
"  claim  "  from  him,  as  having  ridden  211  m.  in  12  h.  at  Oakland,  CaL,Sept.  16,  and  again  213  m. 
in  12  h.  on  Sept.  24 ;  and  his  character  is  further  shown  by  the  fact  that,  after  writing  the  ex- 
pected puff  of  his  52  in.  Expert  as  "  the  best,"  he  sold  puffs  of  other  makes  as  "  the  best."  A 
tourist  who  followed  his  trail  through  the  Mohawk  valley,  a  week  later,  has  also  perpetuated 
the  memory  of  his  boastfulness,  in  the  second  of  a  series  of  agreeably  humorous  sketches  {H^h. 
Gas.,  Aug.  to  Nov.),  called"  From  the  Hub  to  Hoosierdom."  This  was  P.  C.  Darrow(b. 
Mar.,  '61),  an  Indianapolis  printer,  5  ft.  10  in.  high,  weight  140  lbs.,  who  had  ridden  800  m.  on  a  48 
in.  Star  in  '85,  and  800  m.  on  a  54  in.  Expert  in  '86,  previous  to  June  2,  when  he  began  at  Boston 
a  homeward  tour  of  about  950  m.  in  19  days.  The  distance  is  "  estimated,"  because  his  new 
Butcher  cyclometer  stopped  working  on  the  fifth  day  from  the  start.  He  took  train.  Providence 
to  Hartford,  68  m.,  Cleveland  to  Ft.  Wayne,  45  m.,  and  boat  from  Erie  to  Cleveland;  and 
he  took  his  leisure  all  the  rest  of  the  way  while  wheeling.  "  As  for  loneliness,"  he  said,  "  the 
contact  with  ever-varying  classes  and  conditions  of  people,  and  ever-changing  landscapes,  made 
it  impossible ;  but  I,  for  one,  will  run  the  risk  of  being  lonesome  rather  than  being  bored." 

The  high-water  mark  of  English  achievement  in  the  shape  of  wheeling  literature  seems  to 
have  been  reached,  at  the  close  of  March,  by  the  issue  of  the  volume  called  **  Cycling  "  (Lon- 
den  :  Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  10  s.  6d.),  in  the  series  known  as  Badminton  Library  of  Sports 
and  Pastimes ;  see  p.  687.  It  is  imported  at  Boston  by  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  at  $3.50  in  doth 
or  $$  in  half  morocco,  and  their  adv.  says  :  '*  472  pp.,  illust.  by  19  full-page  plates  and  60  wood- 
cuts," though  the  text  is  elsewhere  named  as  covering  442  pp.,  and  the  "  phenomenally  com- 
plete and  copious  index"  17  pp.  in  double-column.  The  14  chapter-titles  are  as  follows  :  Intro- 
ductory (by  Lord  Bury,  very  generally  praised) ;  historical ;  riding  ;  racing ;  touring ;  training ; 
dress ;  clubs ;  tricycling  for  ladies ;  racing  paths ;  N.  C.  U. ;  C.  T.  C. ;  construction ;  the 
press  and  literature.  Tlie  last-named  is  the  shortest  and  the  one  preceding  it  the  longest, 
"  covering  125  pp.,  from  which  even  veterans  who  have  watched  the  progress  of  wheels  from 
the  bone-shaker  stage  may  derive  some  information.  The  whole  volume  is  quite  unprecedented, 
and  forms  the  most  elaborate  and  complete  exposition  of  the  sport  yet  issued  "  (Cyc.  Jottr.^ 
Apr.  i).  *'  It  will  be  interesting  reading  to  the  practical  cyclist ;  and  the  man  who  is  going  to 
cycle  will  find  every  item  of  information  necessary  at  hand  "  [Bi.  NewSy  Apr.  2).  "  The  price 
is  higher  than  the  general  run  of  cycling  publications,  but,  as  the  book  is  got  up  in  the  best  style 
of  binding,  it  is  quite  worth  the  money  and  will  take  its  place  on  any  drawing-room  table.  It  is 
a  complete  compendium  upon  everything  connected  with  cycling  "  {Cyclist.,  Apr.  13).  "  It  is 
the  most  complete  and  interesting  book  of  the  kind  we  have  ever  read,  and  supplies  a  regular 
mine  of  information,  and  as  a  book  of  reference  is  invaluable  "  {Irish  Cyclist  d*  A  ikletty  Apr.  13). 
"  The  book  is  the  best  that  has  yet  been  issued,  and  is  honestly  worth  the  10  s.  6  d.  charged 
for  it "  {Wheelings  Apr.  20).  "  It  is  essentially  English,  and  is  meant  to  be.  Only  the  slight- 
est reference  is  made  to  cycling  outside  the  British  Isles,  and  even  in  the  '  historical '  chapter 
America  is  almost  entirely  ignored.  Yet  no  wheelman  can  afford  to  be  without  *  Cycling '  on 
his  book-shelf,  for  this  work  is  by  far  the  best  ever  printed  "  {BL  World,  May  13).  Tlie  pict- 
ures supplied  by  J.  Pennell  meet  with  the  approval  of  all  the  critics,  while  those  fathered  by 
Lord  Bury  are  as  unanimously  condemned.  The  Cycling  JouryuU  says  the  latter's  "  description 
of  the  mode  of  government  of  the  C.  T.  C.  is  intensely  amusing,  fun  being  poked  at  the  auto- 
cratic secretary  in  a  good  humored  way,  that  can  scarcely  arouse  the  wrath  of  that  official  him- 
self "  ;~whence  it  would  appear  that  the  Viscount  takes  a  more  jocose  view  of  literary  forgery 
than  did  Mr.  Justice  Wills.  Most  of  the  hard  work  in  compiling  the  volume  is  to  be  accredited 
to  G.  Lacy  Hillier,  ed.  of  Bi,  New  and  of  the  cycling  dcpt.  of  Land  6^  Watery  who  requests 
that  newspaper  notices  of  it  be  mailed  to  him  at  24  Beckenham  Road,  Penge,  London,  S.  E. 

"  Wanderings :  on  Wheel  and  on  Foot  through  Europe,"  by  Hugh  Callan  (London  :  S. 
Low,  Marston  &  Co.;  about  250  pp. ;  illuat.;  50  c),  will  probably  appear  early  in  June.  His 
biog.  is  given  on  p.  S45>  s^nd  he  first  gained  notoriety  in  the  cycling  world  by  winning  the  $250 
prize  offered  by  Tit  Bits,  a  London  penny-paper,  for  the  best  story  of  adventures  on  the  wheel, 
—printed  Dec.  4,  '86.    As  reproduced  at  Boston,  in  the  Cyclt*»  final  Issue,  Jan.  21,  it  oovered 


ADDENDA:   BOOKS.  xcix 

a  trifle  more  than  two  pages.  A  similar  space  was  given  by  }Vkf$lingt  Dec  39,  to  the  unsuc- 
cessful narrative  of  A.  M.  Bolton  (p.  549)*  "  bslieved  to  be  the  only  cycling  journalist  of  the 
metropolis  who  competed  "  ;  and  a  comparison  of  the  two  may  help  to  show  the  probable  "  lit- 
erary standard  "  by  which  such  things  are  judged  in  England.  In  a  letter  to  the  Cyclut  of 
Jan.  5,  defending  his  prize-piece  from  the  charge  of  Munchausenism,  Mr.  C.  alluded  to  the  re- 
port of  one  of  his  tours  as  having  been  printed  in  the  FieltH^Oci.  16,  23,  30;  Nov.  13);  and  it 
elsewhere  appears  that  in  '85  he  drove  his  5a  in.  Challenge  i  too  m.  on  the  Continent,  and  in  '86 
1500  m.  there,  besides  3000  m.  on  British  roads.  His  letter  to  me  of  Apr.  30,  '87,  says  :  "  First 
part  will  tell  of  my  '86  ride  from  Hamburg  to  the  Mgtzn  sea  and  Athens;  second,  of  my  '85 
ride  from  Amsterdam  up  the  Rhine  to  Geneva  and  back  to  Antwerp ;  third,  of  my  '81  tramp  in 
France  and  Belgium,  when  I  slept  in  the  fields  and  worked  my  passage  as  a  sailor,  after  money 
was  spent.  Book  is  descriptive,  anecdotal,  historical,  ethnological, — not  a  bare  narrative,  but  an 
attempt  to  blend  my  own  adventures  with  the  spirit  of  the  places,  and  to  enter  with  a  human  in- 
terest into  the  life  of  the  various  people  met  on  the  way.  As  to  odometers,  I  last  year  used 
Underwood*s,  because  it  is  the  lightest  It  dropped  off  after  1400  m.  were  done ;  but  the  med- 
dling of  inquisitive  hands  doubtless  had  something  to  do  with  its  failure." 

The  Iliffes,  of  Coventry,  issued  in  Dec.  a  shilling  book  called  "  Two  Trips  to  the  Emerald 
Isle,  by  '  Faed,* — embracing  a  Racing  Trip  to  Dublin  and  a  Touring  Trip  to  Killarney."    The 
style  is  unconventional  and  quite  free  from  political  allusions.     A  half-dozen  full-page  litho- 
graphs by  G.  Moore  are  inserted,  and  there  are  a  dozen  lesser  pictures  in  the  text,  which  covers 
s8pp.,  8|  by  6|  in.,  and  is  accompanied  by  17  pp.  of  adv.    The  same  publishers,  author  and 
price  are  to  be  recorded  for  "  The  Pleasures,  Objects  and  Advantages  of  Cycling,"  whose  Jan. 
adv.  called  it  "  the  most  interesting  and  highly  illustrated  cycling  work  yet  published."    Its 
nine  chapter-titles  are  as  follows  :  Why  cycling  captivates ;  the  history  of  cycles  and  cycling ;  ray 
experiences  of  Safety  bicycling ;  the  utilitarian  aspect  of  cycling ;  cycling  as  a  pastime ;  cycle 
racing ;  curiosities  of  cycling ;  a  charming  Tandem  spin ;  the  literature  of  cycling.    (For  author's 
biog.  see  p.  534.)    Late  in  '86,  the  Iliffes  issued  "Abridgments  of  Patents  Relating  to  Veloci- 
pedes, 1818  to    1883,"  by  R.   £.    Philhps  (see  pp.  550,  683),  strongly  bound  in  cloth,  at 
IS;  and  they  announce  in  preparation  a  second  volume,  covering  the  patents  of  the  year  '84, 
when  the  new  act  went  into  effect,  at  $2.62, — though  advance  subscribers,  limited  to  100,  can 
be  enrolled  at  $1.87.    A  cheaper  edition  of  Vol.  I.  (310  pp.;  paper  covers)  appeared  in  Feb.,  at 
)5.35,  which  was  the  advance  subscription  price  of  the  bound  copies.     "  Cydedom :  the 
Cbristraas  Number  and  Year  Book  of  the  Cyclist  for  18S6-7,"  was  perhaps  the  most  elaborate 
asd  costly  amount  of  such  material  ever  offered  for  a  shilling,  for  it  contains  Z14  pp.,  11  by  8 
io.,  with  15  lithographed  cartoons  by  G.  Moore,  and  a  very  ornate  cover,  printed  in  gilt  and 
colors.    The  cheapness  is  of  course  explained  by  the  60  adv.  pp.  scattered  through  the  book,  be- 
»des  those  which  are  incorporated  with  the  text  of  the  calendars  themselves.    The  "funny 
bosiness"  customary  with  such  prints  covers  6$  pp.,  and  most  of  the  remainder  is  given  to 
practical  statistics,  of  the  sort  which  used  to  appear  in  the  "  Cyclist  and  IVketl  /fVr/<e/ Annual," 
ttch  as  racing  records ;  officers,  dates  and  uniforms  of  clubs ;  and  "  brief  biographies  of  more 
than  150  of  the  men  best  known  in  cycling  circles."    (The  latter  annual's  final  issue  was  in  Jan., 
*%S,  and  its  earlier  ones  continued  the  series  begun  by  "  Icycles  "  in  '80 ;  see  p.  692.)    An 
Illuminated  lithographic  cover  and  a  dozen  wood-cuts  characterize  the  "  Christmas  number  of 
the/r/x*  CyclisiandAthleU"  edited  by  R.  J.  Mecredy  and  printed  by  A.  &  E.  Cahill,  Dublin 
(6S  pp.,  incL  36  adv.  pp.),  which  sells  for  sixpence.    The  same  price  attaches  to  "  Chestnuts, 
or  the  Wheeling  Sandford  and  Merton,  by  W.  McCandlish  and   F.  Percy  Low  "  (pub.   at 
Christmas,  '86,  by  H.  Etherington,  152  Fleet  St.),  an  octavo  whose  50  pp.  of  letterpress  form  a 
narrative  of  10  chapters,  and  are  flanked  by  60  adv.  pp.    The  Birmingham  weekly.  Sport  &' 
Play,  made  a  first  attempt  at  a  Christmas  number  in  '86,  which  H^keeling  designated  as  "  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  pennyworths  of  the  year,  with  its  amusing  skit  by  Tom  Moore,  which 
«lKwild  be  in  the  hands  of  all  interested  in  cycling  politics."    "A  London  Physician's  "  pamphlet, 
"UtoQfdist's  Pocket  Guide,  giving  practical  hints  for  the  amateur,  and  good  advice  for  all" 
Wh^VM  alluded  to  approvingly  by  IVktelimgol  Oct.  30 ;  and  that  paper  of  Nov.  a4  named 


c  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  following  as  supplied  for  12  c.  by  the  Coventry  Machinists'  Co.,  15  Holbom  Viaduct :  "  'A 
Sufferer's  Experience  of  Rheumatic  Gout,'  the  author  of  which,  after  having  been  afflicted  with 
the  disease  for  17  years,  and  trying  all  sorts  of  remedies,  was  cured  by  tricycling." 

A  map  of  "  the  country  west  of  London  "  (Mason  &  Payne,  41  Cornhill ;  50  c.)  was  recom- 
mended by  Cyclist  of  Dec.  22,  as  a  new  issue,  "  showing  roads,  footpaths,  parks,  woods,  com> 
mons,  and  rails,  as  well  as  the  distances  and  heights  above  the  sea  level,"  on  a  scale  of  f  m.  to  i 
in.  Its  size  is  43  by  32  in.,  folding  in  a  cloth  case  8J  by  4J  in."  The  popularity  of  G.  E.  Young's 
"  Liverpool  Cyclists'  Guide  "  (see  pp.  556,  686)  is  testified  to  by  the  fact  that  the  sixth  edition, 
for  '87,  is  threatened  \yith  a  rival,  which  his  former  printers  announce  in  preparation,  with 
almost  identical  material  ( Wheelings  May  4).  "  Handbook  on  Training  for  Athletic  Exercises," 
by  W.  E.  Morden  (£.  Scale,  Impsrial  Arcade,  Ludgate  Hill ;  25  c),  was  mildly  praised  in  BL 
News  of  Jan.  29;  and  "Athlete's  Guide  "  {Pastime  Pub.  Co.,  28  Paternoster  Row;  25  c),  ed. 
by  N.  L.  Jackson  and  E.  H.  Ck>odbo!d,  was  called  **  extremely  valuable  "  in  Wheeling  of  May 
4.  The  second  book  "  contains  a  full  table  of  all  British  amateur  records,"  and  its  chapter  on 
"  cycling  "  (by  G.  L.  Hillier)  is  more  complete  than  the  former  book's.  A  series  of  pictured 
reports  of  "  Cycling  Rambles  in  the  Home  Counties,"  by  H.  S.  Watkins,  was  begun  in  the 
Illust.  Sporting  &•  Dramatic  News  of  Apr.  30,  and  will  doubtless  be  reproduced  in  book  form. 
The  Bi.  News  of  Apr.  30  praised  the  neatly-printed  and  leather-bound  club-book  of  the  North 
Warwickshire  B.  C, — with  its  chapters  on  cycling,  touring,  government  and  other  general  mat- 
ters,— as  superior  to  most  of  the  London  attempts  at  club  literature  ;  and  it  acknowledged,  with- 
out approval,  the  receipt  of  a  silly  song,  "  Not  the  Baby  but  the  Bicycle,"  pub.  by  S.  Heard  & 
Co.,  of  192  High  Holborn ;  written  by  T.  S.  Lonsdale;  music  composed  by  C.  H.  Chirgwin. 
The  Cyclist  of  Jan.  26  says  :  '*  An  excellent  waltz,  '  the  Knights  of  the  Wheel,'  has  just  been 
composed  by  T.  Capel  Seavy,  who  proposes  to  embody  the  badges  of  30  clubs  around  the  figure 
on  the  outside  cover.  Clubs  desiring  to  be  commemorated  thereon  should  apply  for  particulars 
to  the  publishers,  29  Southampton  St.,  Strand."  The  ed.  of  Cyclist,  referring  in  Dec.  to  my 
quoted  "  review  "  (p.  684),  says  that  **  Miss  Erskine's  book  on  *  Tricycling  '  has  gone  through 
2  eds."  ;  also  that  H.  T.  Round's  '82  book,  noted  on  p.  6S7,  "  was  the  most  complete  and  per- 
fect annu<i1  ever  issued, — ^but  has  not  been  perpetuated,  because  too  big  and  expensive  for  the 
price"  ;  also  that  the  6th  ed.  of  his  own  "  Indispensable  "  (which  I  name  on  p.  685  as  appearing 
*'  late  in  '86")  "  is  in  press,  but  want  of  time  even  now,  Dec.  29,  prevents  its  completion.  The 
'82  ed.,  which  brought  the  total  issue  up  to  16,000,  has  long  been  out  of  print."  The  same 
"  retired  naval  man  "  who  wrote  the  book  of  Scottish  tours,  named  on  p.  684,  published  an 
earlier  one  called  "  Nauticus  on  his  Hobby-Horse,"  whereof  no  details  are  known  to  me.  A 
writer  in  Bi.  News  of  Jan.  15  says  that  the  earliest  book  on  cycling  was  pub.  at  London  in  1868 
by  A.  Davis,  entitled  thus  :  "  The  Velocipede  and  How  to  Use  It  "  (see  pp.  402,  688).  In 
Dec,  '86,  there  was  issued  by  W.  Guilbert,  at  Ryde,  Isle  of  Wight,  price  18  c,  a  list  of  the 
year's  cycling  championships  in  all  European  countries,  compiled  by  J.  A.  Randolph,  C.  T.  C. 
consul  at  Ghent.    The  Cyclist  calls  the  tables  "  most  complete." 

In  addition  to  the  5  blank-logs  previously  issued  in  the  U.  S.  (see  pp.  677-8),  *'  the  Wheel- 
men's Record  Book,  the  only  perfect  one  of  its  kind  ever  published  "  (100  pp.  ;  pocket  and 
pencil ;  leather  cover ;  70  c),  by  Richwine  Bros.,  Phila.,  is  adv.  by  the  American  Athlete  of 
Apr.  30,  whose  ed.  ofiEers  to  send  it  as  a  premium  for  two  subscriptions  to  his  paper  at  50  c.  each. 
"  Cyclers'  Tables  of  Shell  Roads  near  Norfolk,  Va."  (20  pp.,  2^  by  4  in.,  10  c),  is  an  amateur 
booklet,  issued  in  Feb.  by  V.  P.  Ellis.  An  adv.  in  Wheel  News  of  Apr.  i  urged  all  cyclers  to 
at  once  forward  their  names,  and  name  and  size  of  wheel  used,  to  Box  595,  Westfield,  Ms., 
for  gratuitous  insertion  in  the  "  Wheelmen's  Directory,"  to  be  issued  by  "  the  U.  S.  Wheel- 
men's Pub.  Co."  I  found,  by  personal  inquiry  in  May,  that  the  "  Co."  consisted  of  D.  L. 
Beldin,  a  printer,  and  H.  A.  Lakin  (p.  527) ;  but  the  only  answer  given  to  my  request  for  size, 
price  and  publication-time  of  the  book  was  this :  "  It  will  come  out  a  good  deal  sooner  than 
your  own,"  S.  C.  Griggs  &  Co.,  of  Chicago,  adv.  in  Outing,  of  Sept.,  '86,  "  The  World  011 
Wheels  and  other  Sketches"  (^1),  by  B.  F.  Taylor,  a  well-known  journalist  of  that  city,  who 
has  died  since  then ;  but  this  had  even  less  reference  to  cycling  than  the  work  of  same  name 


cii  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

League  meet  at  St.  Louis,  giving  in  advance  a  burlesque  account  of  that  gathering,  as  a  sort  of 
souvenir"  (i6  pp.  of  illustrated  text,  in  ornate  lithographed  cover) ;  and  promised  for  May  12  a 
full  page  lithographic  portrait  of  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick,  the  probable  next  president  of  League.  A 
similar  lithograph  of  T.  Stevens  appeared  Apr.  7,  "portraits  of  9  Indiana  wheelmen,"  Apr. 
21,  and  "  cartoons  "  Mar.  17,  and  earlier.  Besides  these  special  features,  wood-cuts  have  been 
interspersed  in  the  text  from  the  first  number ;  and  the  heading  itself  is  of  a  humorous  sort,  repre- 
senting  riders  of  various  styles  of  wheels  carrying  placards  oti  which  are  severally  inscribed  the 
six  letters  which  spell  the  title  "  Record.*^  The  artistic  features  of  the  paper  are  by  P.  C.  Dar- 
row,  who  enlivened  with  similar  pictures  the  report  of  his  long  *86  tour  (in  IVh.  Gaz.  ;  see  p. 
xcviii.) ;  and  I  wish  here  to  praise  that  same  report  as  one  of  the  very  few  sketches  known  to  me 
for  really  reproducing  in  print  the  humorous  experiences  of  the  road,  without  any  strained  and 
tiresome  attempts  at  wit  or  smartness.  His  brother,  G.  S.  Darrow,  is  the  chief  working  editor, 
while  C.  F.  Smith  attends  to  the  advertising.  The  page  is  of  standard  size  and  enclosed  in  a 
cover  whose  color  varies  from  week  to  week.  The  Record  firmly  upholds  the  League ;  and,  in 
addition  to  representing  the  same  in  its  own  State,  has  arranged  with  the  officers  of  the  Illinois 
Division  that  subscriptions  from  members  thereof  shall  be  accepted  at  the  reduced  rate  of  75  c, 
Ju  consideration  of  the  officers'  supplying  their  earliest  official  news  to  the  Record.  (Those  offi- 
cers, on  Nov.  21,  arranged  to  use  as  "their  organ  "  the  Sunday  issue  of  a  Chicago  daily,  the 
tnter  Ocean,  in  return  for  its  devoting  a  regular  column  to  cycling  affairs ;  and  the  Sporting  b* 
Theatrical  Journal  Xhcn  dropped  from  its  heading  the  "  and  IVestem  Cycler"  which  it  had  as- 
sumed when  appointed  to  the  organship,  July  3,  *86;  see  p.  672).  The  Recot'd  2i\ms  to  be  light 
and  amusing,  andlt  at  least  reaches  near  enough  to  that  ideal  to  possess  a  character  and  flavor  of 
its  own.  It  shows  more  care  than  any  other  cycling  print  yet  produced  west  of  the  Alleghanies. 
The  Wheel  News  is  "devoted  expressly  to  touring,"  its  ed.  being  the  League  Tourmaster, 
and  the  size  of  its  8  pp.  is  9  by  6  in.  The  Pointer  and  Division  are  State  organs  of  the  League, 
as  shown  by  their  titles.  The  Pcuific  Wheelman  is  of  same  size  as  Netvs, — the  issue  of  Tues- 
day, May  3,  being  the  first  one  that  came  to  me  in  that  shape,  and  with  new  editors'  names  and 
doubled  price.  After  a  half-year  as  an  8  p.  monthly,  it  changed  to  a  4  p.  weekly,  and  thus  ap- 
peared with  an  ornamental  heading,  from  Mar.  5  till  April  9  or  later.  During  all  this  time,  its 
price  was  50  c,  its  publication  office  1029  Market  St.,  and  its  "  editors  and  proprietors,"  T.  L. 
Hill,  D.  W.  Donelly,  F.  R.  Cook  and  S.  F.  Booth,  jr.  It  is  the  "  official  organ  of  Cal.  Div.  of 
League," — the  Ingleside,  named  on  p.  661,  having  died.  The  Bi.  Herald  is  an  adv.  organ  of  the 
King  Wheel  Co.,  of  N.  Y.  (incorp.  Nov.  24,  '86),  and  its  ed.  is  Rev.  H.  A.  King,  of  Springfield, 
Ms.,  pres.  of  the  company  and  inventor  of  the  King  safety  bicycle.  Its  circulation  is  based  upon 
the  mailing-list  of  a  local  revivalist  and  temperance  paper  called  the  Evangelist,  which  had  a 
post-office  registry  for  second-class  rates,  and  most  of  its  matter  is  designed  for  Evangelist  read- 
ers. It  does  not  appear  to  exchange  regularly  with  the  cycling  editors,  and  I  have  received  no 
copy  save  the  first  (Sept.) ;  but  I  have  heard  of  2  or  3  later  ones,  and  the  current  adv.  of  the  K. 
W.  Co.  still  s.-iys  that  it  will  be  sent  for  15  c.  a  year  by  the  sec.-treas.,  A.  J.  King,  51  Barclay  st., 
N.  Y.  Prosperity  seems  to  have  been  won  by  the  American  Wheelman  (whose  "  pub.  co."  is 
said  to  consist  of  L.  C.  S.  Ladish,  J.  S.  Rogers,  L.  Gordon  and  £.  L.  Stettinius),  for  its  May  issue 
contains  18  pp.  of  adv.  and  12  of  text, — well-printed  in  the  reformed  style  mentioned  on  p.  672, 
— though  the  rumor  there  given  of  its  absorption  of  the  Bi.  South  was  not  correct.  I  think  that 
paper  is  still  issued,  but  no  specimens  have  reached  me  since  Aug.,  and  I  name  its  editor  on 
authority  of  a  note  in  Bulletin  of  Sept.  3,  correcting  thus  my  statement  of  p.  670,  that  S.  M. 
Patton  was  to  be  its  ed.  I  gladly  correct  also  my  assumption  of  p.  671,  that  the  Smith  Mach. 
Co.  gave  more  support  than  all  other  patrons  to  the  Star  Advocate, — the  neat  little  monthly 
which  fills  so  well  its  chosen  function  of  vigorously  proclaiming  **  the  Star," — for  its  editor  de- 
clares that  only  until  recently,  when  the  Smithville  people  purchased  a  paid  adv.  at  regular  rates, 
has  he  received  any  help  at  all  from  that  quarter.  The  7lh  issue  of  the  Vermont  Bicycle,  in 
Oct.,  '86,  changed  its  first  rude  shape  (see  p.  672)  to  16  pp.  of  standard  size  and  improved  typog- 
raphy, but  in  Jan.  it  went  back  to  the  old  form  and  dropped  "  Vermont,"  which  was  the  only 
distinctive  thins:  in  its  title.     The  not  expensive  rate  of  12  c.  a  year  (dating  from  Apr.,  when  ad 


■    ADDENDA  ;    JOURNALISM. 


celrbnled  the  opening  of 


vherc  it  waabom^Bs  Am/Mitur  AMttf,  Apr 

•lA.     lu  ownen,  the  "  Cyclitt  Pub.  Co.,"  h 

"CjcHngPub.  Co."{meiitian«l  wcamaXf 

*likh  waa  Ibeo  r«irg»iud  (J,  W.  Barn», 

Beck«i>h.  G.  M.  Hu»,  W.  5,  Bull,  H.  A.  E 

IfJUrl  to  F.  P.   Prill,  iu  procnl  editor   an 

■Kitiage  of  the  capita]  Mock,  with  privilege  o 

cf  the  edhoriil  work  Item  Apr.  ii,  '85  (p.  606),  hi> 

ind  when  "  pub."  wu  tint  added 

ibough  "  f  1  "  had  been  mined  during  the  S  weeks  preceding,  on  accouh 

the  Am.  News  Co.    On  May  6,  he  ch.nged  his  office  to  jj  P«k  row,  1 

ind  the  3]  itsuei  from  then  10  May  t)  show  468  pp.    A  "  Soulhei^  D 
Miy  4,  itndei  N.  L.  Cilbnier,  ol  Washington,  ed.  of  Jf«(rf  AVav .-  ini 

the  age  of  e  months  (Dec  )  1  let  p.  665),  the  C/rlt  gave 

beeauK  of  ed.'i  promotion  10  management  of  Bidltlin  <p. 
the  alUwallowing  W.i  Gki.,  of  Springfield.  At  foi  the 
ibe  Wkul,  Mat.  4,  said  "  the  IVIutI  Afi.  a  1  c  monlhly 


dI  the  type  is  first  iiKd  for  the  HtraU  &•  A'lW, 

>i>  State. 

:  a  new  volume, 

.May  6, -8,,  both 

by  mo 

ving  to  a 

1  Ibe  former  daub] 

g  bnter,-al~) 

head  of 

Aug.  ,, 

iiell,  bul  more 

aiuuic.    Oddly  e 

nough. 

it  makes 

ounded  1873," 

for  the  real  date  v 

"good.will"the 

bought, 

,  ',}  (Ke  p-  6SS). 

Thel 

ast  gasf  ■ 

.ve  described  a» 

aUorbed  by  X,^ 

Ipp.  663. 

i,  quite  appropriately,  iu  the  offic 

:  fial. 

,,  ■Sj,-.].e  Gna 

1  issue  bearing  d. 

Nov.  ,6. 

ner.,lhe 

>  p.  667,  u  havi 

appeal 

ranee  "». 

ret  i  F.  Jenki 

a>,  i»a>. ;  W.  N 

.Oliver 

rs),and  which  at 

once  leased  the 

rental  represenli. 

perpetual  renewal.    Though  he 

!d.  Sept 

:.  J,  'B61 

,,  he  .educed  < 

he  price  to  .he  .< 

(■rate. 

the  largest  of  the  ■ 

eeklies."    At 

significant  sign 

tressbydrop. 

sing  to  exist." 

..,i.),it.MnaU 

istwaisoMto 

ibom  papers,  a 

Wasli 

lingtnn  cor.  of 

presenting  a  di 

.boto 

rientific  riders 

r  for  a  year." 

The 

Am.  WJut!. 

I»   rideisof 

OaUa 

nd,  Cal.  1  and 

(ood  aulboril 

believing  that 

«d  by  H.  G.  : 

Sinan. 

yeariilheM',^dn 

a  Windus,of 

Pico. 

lilly.inbehaU 

dinlh 

.0  early  pan  of 

No  officer  can  hold  his  pig 
10  have  attended  ihe  fewest 
•n  until  after  the  lapse  ol  a; 


cii  TEN  THOUSAND  MJ: 

.nu,™r"<,6pp.o(ill>.>Ul,dl«l,i 
(uU  pige  lilhographic  ponrail  of  T.  J. 
tlmilarlithoEnphoiT,  Steirens  appe 
It,  and  "tanoon."  Mar.  i;,  ind  «i 

\x%  Iciun  which  ipell  Ihe  lilk  "  Ram 
royr.  who  enlivened  with  simiUr  picl' 
xcvjjir);  and  I  wish  here  (opraiK  Liul 
Eor  Tully  reprodudng  in  prim  the  hufi 


Tlie  Wlua  Ntm  a  "  devoted  eig 
oliDwn  by  their  tillci.     The    Paclfi, 


Kiiig  Wheel  Co.,  of  N.  Y.  (incorp.  No 

p«t-oAicc  registry  lor  Becoiid-claas  nit 

ere.     Il  doe.  not  uppe.i  lo  eKhlnge  r 

-■-    '  KSepl.);  bull  have 

Ih.tl  il  wai  be  KTil  loi 


L,C.  S.  Ladish,  J.S 


SS  (P-  s 


.ilyingeli 


,in  rainy  ^"•'"! 
.amp*  «"**„,  ,^5  Oven"""  ^ 

-"*  "'!""."*« ""»"' 
'""■"Mhl  .11"  «"■»"•""',' 

■"'£.2  .*.'.*».  ""'■■"■'^ 

ce  (MbM.  my  priming  de'ail"" 
iiiwtibjfttoun  of  '86.  laltenbr 


civ  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

"  The  council  shall  meet  as  often  as  business  shall  require ;  and  any  3  of  the  27  councilors  sfiall 
be  a  quorum."  Women  are  eligible  to  membership;  and  the  expulsion  of  a  member  requires 
a  two-thirds  vote,  after  its  recommendation  by  the  council.  The  evolution  of  the  society  from  the 
"  Tricycle  Union  "  has  been  detailed  by  me  on  p.  647  ;  and  an  account  of  its  "  first  annual  con- 
gress,"  which  is  there  alluded  to,  covers  much  of  the  IVay/arer's  first  issue  (Oct.,  pp.  iiB), 
while  its  second  (Jan.,  pp.  86)  contains  upwards  of  a  dozen  papers  read  at  the  various  monthly 
meetings,  on  such  subjects  as  "  Tricycles  for  the  Police,"  "  Norway  as  a  Field  for  Cyclists," 
"  the  Essex  Route  to  Kent,"  and  "  Druidical  Remains  at  Abury."  The  latter  is  by  the 
** secretary  of  the  editorial  committee,"  J.  B.  Mar&h,  the  same  "elderly  quidnunc'**  whose 
*'  vaporings  "  proved  so  distasteful  to  the  "  Sec-Ed.  of  C.  T.  C."  as  to  lead  him  to  forge  the 
signature  of  J.  Pennell,  in  order  to  effectively  denounce  them  (see  p.  xci.).  J.  P.  himself  is  one 
of  the  society's  council,  and  will  doubtless  be  glad  to  recommend  the  names  of  American  ac- 
quaintances who  may  wish  to  become  corresponding  members. 

Inferior  typography  and  paper  characterize  the  Cycling  Budget  ("  a  domestic  and  cycling 
journal,  for  news  topics  and  leisure  hours;  editors,  Ixion  and  Thalia  ;  manager,  Wm.  Bolton  "), 
which  has  been  issued  every  Wednesday  since  Dec.  14,  '86,  at  170  Strand.  The  latter  half  of 
its  16  pp.  (t2  by  9^  in.)  is  given  to  "  reprint  matter  "  of  the  sort  which  American  country  papers 
use  for  padding,  and  the  greater  part  of  this  seems  to  have  originated  in  America, — Burdette, 
Bill  Nye  and  other  familiar  names  being  quoted  in  the  only  two  specimens  I  have  seen.  Mar.  2 
and  9.  The  adv.'s  are  all  restricted  to  the  orange-colored  cover.  Wheeling  of  Mar.  a  was  "  re- 
quested to  state  that  T.  C.  Heath  (editor)  and  H.  H.  Griffin  are  no  longer  connected  with  the 
Cycling  Bud  get  y  Mr.  G.  was  mentioned  on  Nov.  10  as  having  ceased  to  supply  the  "club 
chronicle  "  for  Bi.  News,  and  having  terminated  all  connection  with  the  IHfFes  (see  p.  690). 
While  letters  on  a  black  background  characterize  the  heading  of  the  Cycling  World,  "an  \\\\xfX. 
weekly  newspaper  for  wheelmen,  edited  by  J.  H.  Akerman,"  and  pub.  on  Wednesdays  at  158 
Fleet  St.,  beginning  Mar.  9."  The  ed.  was  formerly  connected  with  the  Cycling  TV'wrj  (which 
H.  A.  Barrow,  wrongly  named  on  p.  689  as  "proprietor,"  has  also  left),  and  he  says  "the 
Mrriters  who  have  joined  in  the  venture  have  already  made  their  names  in  connection  with  the 
journalism  of  the  sport," — but  he  does  not  announce  them.  The  only  "illustration"  1  find 
in  the  first  issue  is  a  cut  of  a  tricycle.  The  adv.'s  cover  the  outside  4  of  the  16  pp.,  of  standard 
size,  and  the  price  is  a  penny,  as  in  case  of  all  the  London  weeklies.  The  choice  of  World  for 
a  title  was  made  possible  by  the  discontinuance,  in  Dec,  of  the  IlifiFes'  Wlteel  World  (sec  pp. 
654,  690),  in  favor  of  "  Olympia  "  (price  12  c),  which  they  began,  in  Jan.,  "  to  command  the 
broader  field  of  all  outdoor  sports,"  after  the  fashion  of  Outing;  though  they  still  adv.  it  as 
"  the  cyclist's  monthly  magazine,"  and  the  wheeling  contributors  continue  to  predominate.  H. 
A.  Judd  ceased  to  edit  and  A.  J.  Wilson  ("  Faed")  ceased  to  contribute  to  W.  W.,  a  month 
before  the  transformation  ;  because,  with  the  issue  of  Tricycling  Journal  oi  Nov.  12,  H.  A. 
Judd  &  Co.  were  announced  as  new  owners,  with  A.  G.  Morrison  (pp.  535,  690)  as  a  third  mem- 
ber of  the  ed.  staff.  The  office  was  at  once  changed  from  Hammersmith  to  181  Fleet  st.  (pp.  654, 
691),  the  typography  was  improved,  and  an  artistic  heading  was  added, — the  lattei  being  thrown 
off,  Mar.  25,  when  a  change  of  name  was  made  to  Cycling  Journal.  Since  then  the  words, 
"  edited  by  H.  A.  Judd"  have  figured  at  top  of  outside  page.  The  pink  cover  and  "land- 
scape heading  "  of  the  C.  T.  C.  Gazette  have  been  replaced  in  the  current  volume  by  a  blue 
cover  and  a  neater  design,  giving  prominence  to  the  new  badge  "pirated  "  from  the  L.  A.  W. 

After  an  inspection  of  advance  pages  of  my  "  literature  "  chapter,  the  ed.  of  Cyclist  sent 
me  the  following  corrections  (Dec.  29,  '86) :  "  The  old  Bicycle  Journal  {\}.  689)  did  not  appear 
until  '77,  a  year  later  than  Bi.  News,  for  it  sprung  from  the  annual,  instead  of  giving  rise  to  it. 
Wheel  Lije  (p.  690)  was  a  failure,  because  its  editors  did  not  secure  the  public  taste.  The  7 »-/. 
cyclist,  on  the  contrary,  always  paid  its  way.  The  amalgamation  has  proved  a  big  success, — the 
Bi.  News  now  circulating  within  2000  copies  of  the  Cyclist,  and  increasing  weekly.  Its  cartoons 
knocked  the  Wheeling  *  art  supplements  '  (p.  693)  into  ridicule.  Your  quoted  par.  from  B.  N. 
introduction  (p.  694)  was  really  written  by  W.  McC.  and  not  by  G.  L.  H.,  as  implied.  Your 
implication  (p.  549)  that  I  purposely  left  out  the  '  Star '  from  my  list  of  safety  bicycles,  because 


ADDENDA:    JOURNAUSM.  cv 

it  is  American,  is  also  wrong.  The  oversight  was  mainly  because  the  Smith  Mach.  Co.  failed 
to  fill  out  my  blanks  for  details,  and  hence  it  got  overlooked.  This  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
several  of  the  patented  parts  are  described  in  my  first  chapter.  I  would  also  remark  that  I  was 
tlte  first  English  journalist  to  take  any  note  of  American  doings  whatsoever." 

As  every  loyal  Englishman  wishes  this  year  to  help  celebrate  the  "  jubilee,"  or  completed 
half-century  of  Queen  Victoria's  reign,  the  Cyclist^  of  Dec.  22,  called  upon  the  wheelmen  of  the 
kingdom  to  subscribe  for  a  "  jubilee  life>boat  fund,"  and  the  responses,  up  to  May  4,  have  been 
1^1296.     As  the  boat  and  house  cost  $5000,  and  the  boat  alone  ;$325o,  the  proposed  memorial 
seems  likely  to  be  incomplete ;  but  the  sum  actually  raised  makes  a  very  creditable  showing  for  the 
editor's  energy.     Similarly,  the  Bi.  News,  of  Mar.  19,  called  for  help  in  buying  artificial  limbs 
for  a  legless  sailor,  J.  Mcintosh,  who  had  driven  a  tricycle  from  Dundee  to  London  in  20 
days,  and  was  able  to  announce  I94  collected  00  Apr.  2.     That  paper  of  May  7  gives  a  page  to 
tabulating  its  circulation   for  53  weeks,  showing  a  growth  from  3650  to  7050  copies,  which  it 
calls  "  a  larger  proportionate  progress  for  the  12  mos.  than  that  of  any  other  cycling  journal,  and 
a  larger  actual  circulation  than  that  of  any  other  except  the  Cyclist.     We  believe  that,  wilhiu  3 
nos.,  our  issue  will  exceed  10,000."     As  between  the  two  Coventry  priuts  just  named,  I  can  ex- 
press  the  opinion,  after  a  4  months'  perusal  of  both,  that  Americans  will  find  more  to  iuterest 
them  in  the  B,  N.^  despite  its  hostile  tone  towards  this  country  (p.  695).     November  report 
mentioned  A.  C.  Harmsworth,  as  its  actual  managing  editor  at  the  Coventry  office,  though  his 
name  is  not  printed  in  the  paper.    A  receipt  token  of  its  unfairness  was  a  refusal  to  publish  the 
repcMt  of  A.  J.  Wilson  of  the  Trkyclisi,  exonerating  the  Springfield  B.  C,  from  the  charge  of 
"  falsehood  "  raised  by  the  Cyclist,  when   the  club  announced,  in  Oct.  (as  a  justification  of  its 
advertising  the  presence  of  well-known  English  "amateurs"  at  its  Sept.   tournament,  who 
in  reality  failed  to  appear  there),  that  it  possessed  letters  of  leading  English  firms,  contracting  to 
supply  those  "  amateurs  "  at  a  stipulated  rate.    The  Cyclist  challenged  the  club  to  produce 
those  letters  for  some  well-known  Englishman's  inspection  ;    and  they  were  therefore  submitted 
to  Mr.  W.,  with  the  result  stated.     All  the  other  cycling  papers  printed  his  report  and  said  it 
justified  the  honesty  of  the  Springfield  B.  C.,— but   the   Cyclist  kept  quiet  until,  on  Apr.  13  (p. 
636),  it  was  forced  it  make  a  hailing  apology  for  "  refusing  to  print  stale  news  ";  but  it  did  not 
squarely  retract  the  false  chat^ge.     As  regards  the  "  Coventry  ring  "  publiihers,  I  may  remark 
that  they  were  quick  to  see  the  force  of  my  printed  argument  on  p.  719,  and  put  their  papers  on 
file  with  roe  for  indexing,  rather  than  allow  Whetling  to  exclusively  get  the  benefit  of  my  quota-* 
dons  and  credit-marks.     The   Cyc.  Jour,  and  Ir.  Cyc.  6*  Athlete  have  also  adopted  the  same 
"  intelligently  selfish  "  rule  towards  me,  which    Wheeling's  publisher  was  shrewd  enough  to 
adopt  at  the  outset  of  my  round-the-world  enterprise.     A  recent  token  of  English  appreciation 
of  that  shrewdness  is  the  publication  by  the  St  Stephen's  Gazette  of  a  portrait  of  H.  Eihering- 
ton,  "  manager  of  the  Sportsman's  Exhibition,"  accomi>anied  by  biographical  sketch,  which  lat- 
ter was  reprinted  in  IVheeling  of  May  4.    The  founder  of  the  Bi.  News,  B.  Clegg,  died  Apr.28. 
In  correction  of  my  Aug.  list  of  papers  on   p.  654,  I  may  say  that  No.  21  should  have  been 
named  as  Irish  Athletic  df  Cycling  Ne7vs  (see  p.  695),  with    J.  L.  Dunbar  as  ed.  and  prop. 
It  is  an  ofEshoot  of  the  Irish  Sportsman,  and  I  believe   P.  B.  Kirwan  is  a  leading  writer  for  it. 
R-  J.  Mecredy  became  ed.  of  Ir.  Cyclist  <5r»  Athlete  in  Dec,  when  it  was  changed  to  a  weekly, 
and  in  Mar.  he  bought  it,  in  company  with  his  brother,  A.  Mecredy.     Its  price  is  2  c,  and  office 
is  at  49  Midile  Abbey  st.     Its  latest  page,  May  4,  is  numbered  "  2664,"  and  its  general  appear- 
aace  is  prosperous.     Under  its  title  is  a  list  of  some  two  dozen  clubs,  of  which  it  is  the  "  official 
QCSaOr"  beginning  with  the  I.  C.  A.  (whereof  its  editor  is  sec),  and  ending  with  the  Irish  Rifle 
Association.     Special  "  club  organs  "  are  not  unknown  in  England,— the  Cyclist  of  Apr.  6  m-n- 
tioning  with  praise  the  Centaur  Gazette  of  Birmingham,  as  having  attained  to  "  No.  25,  Vol. 
IV.  "  ;  while  Wheeling  acknowledged  the  arrival  of  '  the  Wheel,  for  Sept.,  monthly  journal  of 
the  Lonsdale  B.  C,  Mr.  Calvert,  editor,"  as  long  ago  as  Dec.  3,  '84.     In  '84,  also,  the  Cycling 
Merntry  was  leading  a  life  of  its  own  ;  and  perhaps  the  date  of  its  absorption  by  the  Scott.'sh 
Umpire,  in  whose  heading  it  now  forms  a  sub-title  (see  p.  695),  is  marked  by  the  date  of  the 
latter's  new  serioB,--the  current  issue  of  which,  Apr.  26,  is  "  No.  141.  Vol.  VI."    The  publlca. 


cvi  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

tion  oflSce  is  at  25  Jamaica  St.,  Glasgow.  Quiz^  a  comic  paper  of  that  city,  has  just  introduced  a 
cycling  column.  Southern  AUdetics^  a  monthly  of  cycling,  was  begun  last  Nov.,  at  Lewisham. 
All  amalgamation,  in  Oct.,  of  two  of  the  French  journals  described  on  p.  699, — the  first 
a  weekly  datiug  from  Mar.  5,  '85,  and  the  second  a  semi-monthly  dating  from  Jan.,  '85, — has  re- 
sulted in  the  Viloct'Sport  et  le  Vilocentan  RhtMis^  weekly,  of  Bordeaux,  owned  and  edited  by 
Jean  de  I'Arieste,  founder  of  the  former.  The  first  number  of  a  new  paper  at  B.  was  mentioned 
as  inferior  to  this  old  one,  by  the  Fr.  cor.  of  IVk.  Gas.  for  Nov. ,  but  he  did  not  tell  its  name. 
In  Dec,  M.  de  I'Arieste  made  a  vigorous  protest  against  allowing  the  title  "  official  organ  of  the 
Union  V^Iocip^dique  "  to  be  conferred  upon  its  hated  rival,  the  Revue  du  Sport  Vilocipidique 
(Rouen  :  84  Vicompt^st.) whose  "  spirited  pictures"  were  praised  by  Cyclist ^  Apr.  27,  and  whose 
"  Almanach  Illustr^  de  la  V^locipidie,  1S87  "  (15  c.),  was  thus  noticed  by  same  pap::r,  Dec.  22  : 
"  It  is  better  than  the  three  earlier  eds.,  and  consists  almost  entirely  of  short  tales,  interspersed 
with  jokelets  called  *  coups  de  pidales.'  The  best  of  its  pictures  are  reproductions  of  the  Stevens 
series  in  Ouiingy  The  long  name  of  the  Rouen  paper  suggests  that  the  two  described  on  p.  698 
have  been  combined ;  but  I  'm  not  sure  of  the  fact.  As  for  the  Mdaudbiad,  which  began  in 
Apr.,  '84,  as  "  official  organ  of  the  Dutch  Cyclers'  Union  "  (p.  700),  its  issue  of  Apr.  x,  '87,  is 
called  the  Kampioen^  by  Wheeling,  as  if  the  old  title  had  long  been  disused.  The  true  German 
name  of  what  is  called  the  Steel  Wheel  on  p.  700,  is  the  ^toA/r/u/ (Frankfort  :  Th.  Weber,  ed. ; 
16  pp. ;  $1.25),  pub.  5th  and  20th  of  each  nranth,  at  3  Buchgasse.  At  Nuremburg,  on  the  first 
Sunday  in  each  month,  Carl  Lutz,  ed.,  of  Mohren  st,,  issues  the  Deutsche  Rnd/ahrer  (begun 
in '85  ;  8  to  12  pp.,  $1.50),  "official  organ  of  the  '  Allgemeinen  Radfahrer-Union,' "  which 
seems  to  be  a  self-styled  "  universal "  rival  of  the  more  important  "  Deutscher  Radfahrer-Bund  " 
described  on  pp.  651,  697.  Vienna  has  two  new  fortnightlies  :  Rad/akrer-Zeitung  {*%$\  D. 
Habemal,  ed. ;  3  Fiirichgasse;  12  pp. ;  $1)  and  Radfahr-Sport  ('86;  A.  Von  Szabo,  jr.,ed. ; 
5  Ldwengasse  ;  16  pp. ;  %^y  The  Cyclist  of  Feb.  22  mentioned  the  starting  of  still  another 
German  paper, — a  "  universal  "  one, — Allgemeiner  Anzeiger  /Ur  Rnd/ahrer.  The  Veloci- 
pedistf  Munich,  and  Velocipedsport,  Berlin  (p.  697),  were  both  flourishing  at  close  of  '86.  The 
latter  is  pub.  by  A.  Paritschke  (97Zimmerst. ;  $1.50),  and  he  also  bsues  "  Illustrirter  Radfah- 
rer-Kalender  1887,"  at  25  c  I  take  the  foregoing  from  sih  ed.  of  "  Radfahrers  Jahrbuch  " 
(BeHin  :  T.  H.  S.  Walker,  87  Zimmer  st. ;  Dec.,  '86;  230  pp.  and  40  adv.  pp.  ;  25  c,  see  p. 
697),  at  whose  office  are  pub.  the  three  following  :  (i)  "  Tourenbuch,"  for  Germany,  Holland, 
and  parts  of  Switzerland,  Austria,  France  and  Denmark,  by  J.  M.  Dumstrey,  Tourmaster  of 
German  Wheelmen's  Union ;  (2)  Nachlese  aus  dem  Radfahrericben  "  (Gleanings  from  a 
Wheelman's  Life),  by  J.  M.  Dum5?lrey,  illust.  by  Max  Rendschmidt,  Oct.,  86,  $1.37 ;  (3)  "  Das 
Kunst-  und  Saalfahren  beim  Radfahr-sport,"  by  R.  Hofer,  of  Leipzig,  25  c.  Four  others  are 
also  catalogued  :  "  Das  Dreirad  (The  Tricycle)  und  seine  Bedeutung  als  Verkehrsmittel  fur 
Jedermann,"  by  Otto  Ekarius,  M.  D.  (Hamburg:  G.  C.  Temps,  59  Neuerwall ;  37  c.); 
"Liederbuch  fur  Radfahrer,"  by  the  Ellwangen  B.  C.  (songs,  3d  ed.,  30  c.);  "  Touren-  and 
Fahrtenbuch,"  for  Alsace-Loraine  and  Baden  (Strasburg  :  F.  Breunfleck  &  C.  Wester;  55  c.) ; 
"  Wegweiser  fUr  Radfahrer,"  along  the  Rhine  (M.-Gladbach  :  O.  Weber,  13  Wilhelm  st. ;  75  c). 


At  the  close  of  '85,  the  largest  year's  mileage  recorded  in  America  vras  J.  D.  Macaulay's 
(Louisville ;  6573  m. ;  see  p.  527),  who  rode  every  day  of  that  year ;  while  the  largest  mileage 
in  the  world  was  E.  Tegetmeier's  (London ;  10,053  m.  in  230  days  of '83  ;  see  pp.  53i>  SS^X 
Hence,  when  the  Star  Advocate  of  Mar.,  '87,  printed  a  letter  from  A.  B.  Norton  (b.  Apr.  2, 
'66),  manager  of  the  telephone  office  at  Westlield,  Ms.,  describing  how  that— between  Mar.  5 
and  Dec.  30,  '86 — 10,706}  m.  had  been  recorded  by  his  I^kin  cyclom.,  attached  to  a  48  in.  I.  r. 
Star,  the  case  seemed  to  me  worth  investigating.  In  a  talk  with  him,  at  the  opening  of  May,  I 
convinced  myself  that  his  cyclom.  had  really  registered  the  said  mileage,  and  that  he  believed 
in  its  accuracy,  as  proved  by  occasional  comparison  with  known  distances.  Unfortunately,  as 
he  kept  no  sort  of  log,  except  a  mere  mem.  of  the  date  when  each  1000  m.  ended,  his  figures 
cannot  be  accepted  as  authentic  by  those  who  distrust  that  special  make  of  cyclom.,  or  who  re- 


ADDENDA  :    MILEAGE  OF  '86. 

mileage  record  which  is  not  wnir«i  down  d^ly,  no  ma 
b  DomiDilly  crnplaycd  by  his  father  at  book-keeper  and 


uinds  of  mllEi 


,.  io  'Ss,  a 
fiiibhed  at  Ihc  f 


■t),  by  doini  belter  than  ihe  Weu- 
is.  or  'Bs  (P-  S';)-  The  luoMsive 
rrala  lignifying  elapsed 


1,  Apr.  . 


;  ad,  II 


Jy  la  ;  6lh,  43,  Aug.  1S4  7"'.  ao,  Sept.  ij  ;  Sih,  15.  Ocl. 
g :  9tb,  16,  (Jet.  >4  ;  iMh,  17,  INot.  id  1  then,  in  jo  days  to  Dec  30,  706]  m.    From  July  »  id 

3«>oT4ooni.  undercover.  Hiibeit  ilralghlaway  spin  waifrom  Haniord  to  Springfield,  i;  m. 
ia  1  h.  lo  mia.  (beating  record  by  1  h.),  and  hit  iorgetl  day  na>  iij  m.,  Oct.  «,  ia^h.  of  rid- 

llie  priieof  a  f  15  £Old.plaLed  cyclom.,  which  had  been  an  lOA^ring  cause  of  hn  aclivhy, 
nsawarded  by  LakinftCa,  to  a  ij-year  ohlKhooUiay.C.  J.  Loocnli.  riding  a  ja  in.  Victor  (p. 
^■7),  who  made  the  preposterous  "claim  "  of  11,19s  m..  uriihoul  offering  a  panicle  of  evidence 
to  lappon  it,— DM  even  ^ving  the  daiei  when  ihc  alleged  thousands  were  liniihed.  He  kept 
the  face  of  hii  cyclom.  carefully  hidden,— but  LIr.  N.  managed  to  lake  two  readingi  of  it,  Ocl. 
■  )(evenini)ind  ig,  and  the  "record"  foriheae  j  days  wa>  996  m.l    Yet  lbs  Ovenoan  Wheel 

Wenfield  school  boy  ol  same  age,  named  Emenon  Bun,  who  similarly  "claimed"  10,001  m.. 
on  a  41  hi.  American  Ideal,  wai  rewarded  by  the  Corniully  &  Jeltery  Co.  with  a  new  46  in.  bi. 
At  I  have  reproved  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  for  giving  countenance  10  an  unverified  "  evimate  ol 
I  ■  ,000  m.  in  14  mos."  (p.  5"6),  so  here  I  pnxeu  again  again.!  these  other  firm,  taking  such  action 
aihelpsbriog  all  honest  cyclometers  and  record-keeping  into  dispute.  The  "claims"  of  lhe^>e 
two  children  are  utterly  farcical  1  but  the  Overman  Co.  mighl  well  have  proclaimed  Ihe  undoubt- 
edly anthenlic  '86  record  of  !o3j  m,  by  A,  B.  Barkman  (p.  jjo),  who  Ihiu  won  the  Brooklyn  B. 


reconiol 

4,tm..  Mar.  ,71 

Dec.,&, '86 

by  W.  W.  Sheen  {b.  June  .7,  ■66),  ol  Quiacy, 

labulatede. 

case,     I  at 

ID  regretfully  omit  an  account  ot  one  of  Ihe  most  aolible  lours  of  'U,,  taken  by  a 

Oriean5B.C,-A.M,  Hill  (b- Sept,  .j, ',7),  ajewelera.  .16  Canal  st-i  CM. 

ehild  Cb.  M 

ayij,  ■6sl.  andH.W.Fairfa.  {b.Aug.  .1,  '66).    They  left  N.  0.  on  Apr.  j. 

reached  Boiton  JO  day*  later,  after  having  ridden  their  bicyelei  113;  m.,  walked  319  m. 

in>fDr>i7m.    (See  Mr.  H.'sfour  articles  in  Aii?f<«,  Oct.  a?  to  Nov.  19.) 

Thefo 

wnpany  his  "  perfection  cyclometer,"  which  i>  no  longer  in  Ihe  market,     Shan 

as  UDimpor 

lant.     it  may  be  well  to  remember  that  }  m,  is  440  yards,  and  1  m.  is  587  yard.. 

Diameter 
of    Wheel. 

Inches. 

Circumference 
of   Wheel 

Inches. 

Revolutions 
to°the  fSlle. 

•'■^^'''=''  "*'""■■' 

46 
4S 

1 

.44.  SU* 

4J8.44 

i 

.W.4!*o 

JJ6..4 

MAY  KOURTH,  1887. 

After  four  years  of  pIielude  and  geiting- ready,  Karl  Kron  thus 
TO  HIS  Three  Thousand  Co-partners  giveth  greeting: 

I  like  the  Preface,  as  you  are  aware 
It  serves  the  purpose  of  the  overture, 

Which  settles  down  the  audience  to  the  glare 
Of  foot-lights,  and  the  altered  temperature ; 

And,  while  they  wait  to  see  the  curtain  rise, 
They  think  but  little  of  the  music's  swell ; 

So  that  the  play  give  naught  to  criticise, 
They  clap  their  hands  and  tell  us  "  All  is  well." 

Again,  the  Preface  gives  a  man  a  chance 
To  show  his  readers  what  he's  going  to  do; 

To  so  point  out  his  failings  in  advance 
That  they  may  be  forgiven  on  review ; 

To  get  his  pen  used  to  the  ways  of  verse ; 
To  get  his  rhyming-lexicon  before  him  spread 

To  nerve  himself,  for  better  or  for  worse ; 
And  then,  at  last,  to  boldly  go  ahead. 

My  time  has  come  !    My  overture 's  played  out. 
Already  do  I  hear  the  tintinnabulating  bell. 

The  rising  curtain  and  expectant  shout 
The  nearness  of  my  fate  at  length  foretell.  • 

So,  Good-bye,  Preface,  Indexes,  and  all  I 
Farewell,  Old  Sub.-List,  with  your  frowns  and  smiles  I 

Here  now  's  the  pinch  !  Hear  now  my  clarion-call : 
*•  Come  t  thirty  thousand  purchasers  for  '  X.  M.  MiLES  '  I " 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


I. 

ON  THE  WHEEL.* 

''There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods,"  without  a  doubt  But, 
when  the  solitary  wayfarer  journeys  through  those  woods  afoot,  he  must 
expect  to  derive  that  pleasure  wholly  from  the  natural  objects  around  him : 
he  cannot  count  on  gaining  any  from  communion  with  his  fellow-man.  His 
fellow-man  is,  in  fact,  much  inclined  to  fight  shy  of  such  solitary  wayfarer 
whenever  he  ceases  to  view  him  with  absolute  indifference,  for  nothing 
picturesque  or  attractive  attaches  to  the  casual  pedestrian  plodding  slowly 
along  his  chosen  path,  and  even  the  very  name  of  "  tramp  "  has  come  to  carry 
with  it  the  notion  of  something  disreputable  or  dangerous.  In  the  view  of 
the  average  American  householder,  a  stranger  tramping  along  the  public 
highway  must  be  either  a  poor  man  in  search  of  employment,  or  a  book-agent 
or  a  patent-rights  hawker  or  some  other  variety  of  the  peripatetic  peddler,  or 
else  he  must  be  a  professional  vagrant  and  thief.  In  any  case,  he  is  a  person 
whom  it  is  advisable  to  keep  at  arm's  length  and  to  favor  with  civilities  of 
only  the  briefest  and  most  formal  description.  He  is  an  essentially  common- 
place and  uninteresting  object,  whose  room  is  much  better  than  his  company. 
Acquaintance  with  such  a  one  can  presumably  yield  the  householder  neither 
pleasure  nor  profit,  and  is  more  likely  to  result  in  discomfort  and  loss. 
Good-day  to  him,  therefore,  and  good  riddance. 

When  the  solitary  wayfarer  glides  through  the  country  on  top  of  a 
bicycle,  however,  his  relations  to  his  human  environment  are  absolutely 
altered.  The  Frenchmen  of  old,  to  whom  must  be  accorded  the  ultimate 
credit  for  rendering  possible  this  modern  mechanical  marvel,  might  well 
exclaim,  "Nous  avons  changi  tout  cela.**  Mounted  on  a  four-foot  wheel,  which 
sends  him  spinning  swiftly  and  noiselessly  o'er  hill  and  dale,  the  whilom 
tramp  is  transformed  into  a  personage  of  consequence  and  attractiveness. 
He  becomes  at  once  a  notable  feature  in  the  landscape,  drawing  to  himself 
the  gaze — and  it  is  usually  the  admiring  gaze— of  all  whose  eyes  are  there  to 
see.  His  fellow-humans  ignore  oravcid  him  no  longer.  Gentle  or  simple, 
tbey  aii  recognize  in  him  UlMM|Hi||tetive  of  something  novel  and  remark- 


'FroiD  LWincoifM  MimiJ^^  ^^^^^         •76.587.      Reprinted  in   Tht  IVheeiman, 
December,  x«&,  PP-  *i 


2  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

able.  He  is  the  center  of  universal  curiosity  and  comment.  His  presence 
illustrates  a  fresh  triumph  of  mind  over  matter.  All  creatures  who  ever 
walked  have  wished  that  they  might  fly;  and  here  is  a  flesh-and-blood  man 
who  can  really  hitch  wings  to  his  feet.  That  is  the  one  touch  of  nature  which 
makes  the  whole  crowd  kin. 

The  deprecatory  remarks  often  addressed  to  that  large  body  of  Ameri- 
cans who  make  the  tour  of  Europe  without  any  preliminary  travels  of  import- 
ance through  their  own  country  may  seem  rather  plausible  at  first  blush,  but 
whoever  looks  below  the  surface  of  things  will  quickly  discover  the  injustice 
of  such  reproaches.  The  tourist  who  goes  abroad  gets  a  great  deal  more  for 
his  money  than  he  could  possibly  get  by  traveling  an  equal  distance  at  home. 
This  magnificent  country  contains  without  doubt  many  notable  natural 
objects  which  are  well  worthy  of  the  inspection  of  its  natives  as  well  as  of 
foreigners ;  and  the  foreigner  has  as  an  additional  motive  for  traveling  here 
the  outward  life  of  the  people,  which  he  can  compare  instructively  with  the 
similar  manifestations  made  in  the  mass  by  the  life  of  other  nations.  But  the 
cities  of  the  United  States,  however  widely  separated  geographically,  are  all 
practically  alike,  and  so  are  the  towns  and  the  villages,  and  so  are  the  out- 
ward characteristics  of  their  inhabitants.  The  "  local  color  '*  which  senti- 
mental writers  are  so  prone  to  attribute  to  the  people  and  institutions  of 
particular  sections  of  our  vast  domain  does  not  possess  the  vividness  which 
would  make  it  really  distinctive.  New  Orleans,  which  is  the  most  un- 
American  of  our  cities,  does  not  impress  me  as  essentially  unlike  New  York, 
and  the  most  radical  difference  between  Boston  and  San  Francisco  is  a  differ- 
ence of  longitude  only.  To  speed  along  the  frozen  lake-side  at  Chicago 
behind  the  jingling  sleigh-bells  of  a  bustling  business-man's  "  fast  trotters," 
and  three  days  later  to  lazily  pluck  the  yellow  fruit  from  an  overladen  orange- 
tree  in  a  sleepy  garden  of  Mobile,  is  merely  to  indulge  in  an  impressive 
change  of  physical  surroundings :  it  is  not  to  learn  an  instructive  lesson  of  life, 
such  as  is  gained  by  going  from  St.  Petersburg  to  Rome,  from  London  to 
Paris. 

The  distinctive  characteristics  of  the  various  European  nationalities  are 
sufficiently  obtrusive  to  arrest  the  attention  of  the  most  heedless  observer, 
while  the  local  peculiarities  of  people  residing  in  widely-separated  sections  of 
this  country  are  for  the  most  part  too  faint  and  subtile  for  off-hand  detection. 
In  other  words,  all  Americans  are  so  much  alike  in  the  main  essentials  of 
character  that  the  minor  respects  in  which  certain  divisions  of  them  differ 
seem  hardly  important  enough  to  be  worth  paying  much  attention  to.  The 
process  of  jostling  about  among  people  who  were  bom  under  different  skies, 
and  brought  up  to  accept  a  philosophy  of  life  greatly  at  variance  with  our 
own,  educates  us  in  tolerance  and  increases  our  broadness  of  view ;  but  a  man 
may  travel  here  from  Maine  to  Mexico  without  of  necessity  receiving  a  single 
shock  to  his  preconceived  ideals  of  correct  conduct,  or  seeing  anything  to 
remind  him  that  there  are  other  people  who  do  not  accept  his  inherited  rules 


ON  THE  WHEEL,  3 

of  right  living  as  being  unquestionably  "  the  best."  The  inhabitants  of  these 
United  States  are  a  remarkably  reticent  race,  greatly  given  to  minding  their 
own  business,  and  extremely  slow  about  revealing  their  real  thoughts  to  a 
stranger  until  they  discover  what  his  business  may  be.  The  ordinary  traveler 
may  pass  and  repass  among  them  till  doomsday  without  any  more  penetra- 
ting their  reserve  than  a  summer  shower  penetrates  the  plumage  of  a  duck. 
Yet  they  are  talkative  enough  if  once  their  sympathy  is  aroused  and  their 
confidence  gained  by  the  introduction  of  some  object  which  supplies  a  com- 
mon ground  for  interesting  conversation.  Such  an  object  in  a  supremely 
eminent  degree  is  the  modem  bicycle.  The  dauntless  sailor  of  four  centuries 
ago,  who  persistently  pointed  his  prow  through  the  stormy  westward  waves» 
had  the  unique  satisfaction  of  discovering  the  great  American  continent ;  but 
it  has  been  reserved  for  the  philosophic  bicycler  of  to-day,  who  steadily 
guides  his  wheel  through  peaceful  and  pleasant  pathways,  to  indulge  in  the 
rare  delight  of  discovering  the  average  American  citizen. 

Undemonstrative  as  that  citizen  is  apt  to  be  toward  the  ordinary  stranger, 
the  spectacle  presented  by  a  smoothly-gliding  wheelman  somehow  warms  the 
cockles  of  his  heart,  and  likewise  loosens  his  tongue.  He  usually  manifests 
his  good  will  by  "  passing  the  time  o'  day  "  in  one  form  or  another,  instead  of 
maintaining  his  customary  unsociable  silence ;  and,  not  unfrequently,  when 
driving  a  horse  that  readily  keeps  him  alongside,  he  is  tempted,  into  an 
extended,  though  perforce  rather  fragmentary,  conversation.  It  is  ^&t  until 
the  bicycler  dismounts,  however,  that  the  degree  to  which  his  wheel  has  put 
him  on  "  easy  speaking  acquaintance  "  with  a  great  variety  of  people  becomes 
fiilly  apparent.  Whether  in  city  or  in  country,  he  quickly  becomes  the  center 
of  an  interested  conclave,  all  intensely  eager  to  learn  about  his  movements 
and  inspect  at  close  quarters  the  new-fangled  mechanism,  and  all  at  the  same 
time  rather  shy  of  directly  asking  questions  which  may  be  resented  as  imper- 
tinent by  such  a  distinguished  traveler.  While  engaged  in  wiping  or  oiling 
or  adjusting  his  wheel,  he  is  cheerfully  conscious  that  the  first  brief  period  of 
silent  awe  on  the  part  of  the  bystanders  will  be  followed  by  the  offering  of 
various  leading  suggestions  and  speculations  from  one  to  the  other,  which 
they  design  him  to  overhear  and  reply  to ;  and  that,  under  the  encouragement 
of  a  civil  explanation  on  his  part,  the  usual  battery  of  questions  will  be  fired 
off  and  the  ''conversation  become  general."  To  know  the  price  of  the 
machine  is  the  universal  wish ;  yet  the  question  is  not  often  flatly  put  without 
a  preface  of  decorous  apology  for  asking  it.  One  common  way  of  beating 
around  the  bush  is  to  profess  having  *'  made  a  bet "  on  the  subject  which  the 
owner  only  is  competent  to  settle,  and  will  he  therefore  kindly  consent  to 
tell  ?  **  We  know  it's  none  of  our  business,  boss,  but — "  "  We  don't  like  to 
trouble  you,  colonel,  but — "  "  I  hope  you  won't  think  me  impertinent,  sir, 
bnt — "  Such  are  the  common  introductions  to  requests  for  information  on 
this,  thaty  or  the  other  point. 

ftsm  '^"'llft  ^  unreflectihg  as  if  a  man  must  at  last  grow  inexpres- 


4  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

sibly  tired  of  replying  over  and  over  again  to  the  self-same  inquiries  pro- 
pounded by  different  sets  of  people.  I  should  be  afraid  to  guess  the  number 
of  hundred  times  I  have  **  answered  the  anxious  "  by  saying  that  the  price  of 
bicycles  varies  from  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars  or 
more,  according  to  the  size,  make,  and  finish ;  that  the  tire  is  of  rubber,  and 
that  the  "  cut "  in  the  same  is  not  the  result  of  an  accident,  but  simply  the 
point  of  junction  where  the  two  ends  are  cemented  together;  that  the  spokes 
are  steel  wires  plated  with  nickel  and  not  with  silver,  which  tarnishes  more 
readily ;  that  the  cyclometer  revolves  with  the  axle  and  registers  the  distance, 
the  big  pointer  moving  along  one  notch  on  the  hundred-mile  dial  every  time 
the  little  pointer  moves  entirely  around  the  mile-dial ;  that  I  ride  a  smaller 
wheel  than  most  men  having  my  length  of  leg,  and  that  long-legged  riders 
can  propel  a  very  much  larger  one ;  that  the  saddle-bag  is  filled  with  oil-cans, 
wrenches,  and  rags  rather  than  with  cigars  and  whiskey-flasks ;  that  the  instru- 
ment "keeps  its  balance"  without  conscious  effort  of  the  person  who  is 
astride  it,  and  can  be  readily  mastered  by  any  one ;  that  the  act  of  learning  it 
is  merely  a  mental  process,  like  the  act  of  learning  to  swim, — "  whenever  a 
man  thinks  he  can  do  it,  he  can  do  it," — and  that  the  time  requisite  for 
getting  the  mind  up  to  the  point  of  conviction  may  vary  from  a  few  hiinutes 
to  several  weeks,  according  to  the  natural  aptitude  and  persistency  of  the  in- 
dividual concerned ;  that,  in  respect  to  the  English  record  of  **  best  times," 
Waller  has  ridden  fourteen  hundred  and  four  miles  in  six  successive  days  of 
eighteen  hours  each  (including  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles  without  a  dis- 
mount), Terront,  three  hundred  and  forty  miles  in  twenty-four  hours,  Apple- 
yard,  one  hundred  miles  on  the  road  from  Bath  to  London  in  seven  hours 
nineteen  minutes  (including  seventy  miles,  without  stop,  in  four  hours  fifty 
minutes),  Cortis,  twenty  miles  in  an  hour,  and  Edlin,  a  single  mile  in  two 
minutes  forty-six  and  one-half  seconds;  that  forty  thousand  bicycles  are 
owned  in  London  and  its  environs,  and  three  times  that  number  elsewhere 
in  England,  of  which  some  twenty-two  hundred  were  massed  together  in 
simultaneous  motion  at  the  last  annual  parade  at  Hampton  Court;  that 
upwards  of  five  thousand  are  certainly  known  to  be  owned  in  the  United 
States,  while  the  true  number  is  presumably  nearer  ten  thousand,  judgmg 
from  the  fact  that  more  than  eight  hundred  were  present  at  the  Boston 
parade^ ;  that  I  myself,  while  touring  through  the  country,  cover  a  daily 
distance  of  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  miles,  according  to  the  state  of  the 
roads,  the  winds,  the  weather,  and  my  own  free  fancy,  though  I  once  rode 
seventy-five  miles  in  a  day  without  special  effort ;  that  the  legs  do  not  become 
stiff  and  weary,  as  in  walking,  because  they  do  not  have  to  lift  the  weight  of 
the  body ;  that  the  saddle  is  not  too  small  for  comfort ;  that  the  wire  spokes 
are  not  too  small  for  safety ;  that  the  rear  wheel  is  not  too  small  for  swiftness ; 
that  the  bell  and  lantern  employed  by  some  riders  seem  to  me  needless 

^The  reader  must  remember  that  these  words  were  written  in  September,  1881,  since  which 
time  there  have  been  great  changes  in  nearly  all  the  records. 


ON  THE  WHEEL.  5 

encumbranGes ;  that  I  can  ride  up-hill  -when  the  road  is  good ;  that  sand  and 
mud  are  the  chief  obstacles  to  progress ;  that  I  do  not  frighten  horses. 

Many  hundreds  of  times  have  I,  "by  special  request/*  rung  the  changes 
on  all  the  foregoing  statements  and  innumerable  others  of  similar  character, 
and  many  thousands  of  times  more  do  I  expect  to  expound  them  for  the 
enlightenment  of  fresh  relays  of  sympathetically  inquisitive  fellow-citizens 
whom  I  hope  in  future  years  to  meet  in  distant  States  and  cities.  The  unre- 
flecting are  at  fault  when  they  assume  that  this  sort  of  talk  must  necessarily 
grow  wearisome  from  mere  repetition.  On  the  contrary,  the  delight  in  one's 
hobby  is,  like  white-winged  hope,  a  sentiment  that  springs  eternal  in  the 
human  breast.  As  long  as  a  man  continues  to  find  supreme  enjoyment  in 
propelling  a  bicycle,  so  long  must  he  continue  to  take  pride  and  pleasure  in 
expatiating  concerning  it  to  the  new  groups  of  auditors  who  gather  expect- 
antly about  him.  Sincere  sympathy  from  any  source  is  always  sweet,  and 
one  of  the  dearest  delights  of  a  hobby-rider  is  to  meet  with  people  who  man- 
ifest a  disposition  to  view  his  hobby  admiringly  and  to  exaggerate  its  relative 
importance,  with  something  of  his  own  enthusiasm.  It  is  not  permissible  to 
trot  out  a  hobby  before  one's  friends,  for  the  owner,  from  the  mere  fact  of 
having  the  hobby,  is  rendered  incapable  of  determining  the  point  at  which 
their  expressions  of  interest  in  the  blessed  beast  cease  to  take  active  inspira- 
tion from  the  same  and  begin  to  rest  on  the  mere  passive  basis  of  personal 
politeness  toward  himself.  In  other  words,  he  stands  in  constant  peril  of 
becoming  a  bore.  But  no  such  calamity  can  possibly  overhang  the  man  who 
discourses  concerning  his  hobby  to  a  self-summoned  audience  of  strangers, 
for,  as  they  are  not  under  the  slightest  conventional  obligation  to  listen  to 
him  or  to  encourage  him  in  talking,  such  partiality  as  they  may  exhibit  in 
those  directions  must  be  in  the  highest  degree  genuine.  Thus  there  is  firmly 
established  at  the  outset  one  of  the  surest  safeguards  for  a  free  conversa- 
tion that  shall  be  mutually  entertaining  to  those  who  participate. 

It  must  by  no  means  be  inferred,  however,  that  the  tourist,  who  prizes 
his  wheel  as  a  convenient  device  for  demonstrating  that  the  noblest  9tudy  of 
mankind  is  man,  confines  the  examination  of  his  fellow-mortals  to  conversa- 
tions of  this  single  cast,  wherein  he  himself  is  always  sure  of  speaking  as  an 
expert  to  an  interested  interlocutor.  The  talk  about  bicycling  is  often  a  mere 
introduction,  an  exchange  of  credentials,  a  bridge  across  the  chasm  which 
separates  men  of  different,  pursuits,  a  pleasant  prelude  productive  of  confi- 
dence wherefrom  follow  more  extensive  talks  on  a  great  variety  of  topics.  It 
is  hard  to  imagine  a  man  so  ignorant  or  inexperienced  or  stupid  as  not  to  be 
interesting,  if  once  he  can  be  made  to  talk  about  his  specialty ;  and  I  glory  in 
the  bicycle  because  of  its  magnetic  power  in  drawing  to  the  surface  the  quaint 
characteristics  of  many  peculiar  people,  which  they  could  never  be  tempted  to 
reveal  to  the  casual  stranger  not  pgsse^sed  of  this  persuasive  instrument. 
The  instructive  personal  debates  and  enlivening  interchanges  of  sentiment 
which  take  place  in  country  bar-rooms  and  city  lager-beer  saloons  may  also 


6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

be  freely  oTerheard  by  the  tauring  bicycler,  absorbed  as  he  seems  (o  be  in 
the  cleaning  and  polishing  of  his  machine.  Without  this  his  presence  would 
be  looked  upon  with  vague  suspicion  and  hostility,  and,  unless  he  should 
"  set  up  the  drinks  "  several  times  and  thus  "  make  himself  one  of  the  boys," 
a  lull  would  soon  fall  on  the  gathering,  and  an  uneasy  sensation  of  being 
watched  by  the  coldly-critical  eye  of  a  respectable  interloper  not  of  their  class 
would  render  the  conversationalists  unable  to  maintain  their  customary 
sprightliness  and  "tone."  But  tbe  bummers  and  beer-guz2lers  do  not  resent 
as  intrusive  the  presence  of  the  stranger  who  runs  a  wheel.  They  accept 
him  as  one  of  themselves.  He  is  a  fellow-sportsman,  a  member  of  "  the 
fancy."  a  man  "working  to  win  a  bet."  They  assume  the  necessity  of  his 
"finishing  the  race  on  time"  as  a  satisfactory  excuse  for  his  temporary 
abstention  from  strong  drink.  Hence  his  refusal  to  share  in  their  revels  and 
his  keeping  his  own  counsel  do  not  lower  him  in  their  respect  or  create  a 
coolness  against  him.  They  go  right  on  in  their  customary  lying  and  brag- 
ging to  one  another,  as  unreservedly  as  if  the  unsuspected  student  who  is  care- 
fully taking  to  heart  the  lesson  in  life  thus  presented  were  a  thousand  miles 

An  amusing  tribute  to  the  gracefulness  and  ease  of  bicycling  is  uncon- 
sciously paid  by  every  urchin  who  cries,  "  Let  her  out,  mister  I "    or,    "  Why 
don't  you  go  fast?"  to  a  rider  who  is  already  proceeding  as  rapidly  as  a 
horse  usually  trots.    The  cry  shows  that  noise  and  an  appearance  of  violent 
muscular  effort  are  so  associated  in  the  mind  of  the  spectator  with  the  notion 
of  swiftness  that  he  cannot  readily  grasp  it  in  their  absence :  he  cannot  easily 
believe  his  eyes  when  they  alone  tell  him  thai  this  noiseless  apparition,  with 
the  slowly-  and  smoothly-moving  legs,  is  really  flying  fast  over  the  ground. 
There  is  something  comic,  too,  about  the  manifest  inability  of  all  classes  of 
people  to  accept  the  "tour  a-wheelback"  with  any  degree  of  seriousness, — to 
regard  it  in  the  same  light  as  they  regard  a  journey  made  with  the  help  of  a 
heavier  vehicle  which  has  to  be  propelled  by  steam-  or  horse-power.    If  a 
man  in  a  buggy,  stopping  in  front  of  a  village  tavern  to  water  his  horse,  should 
announce  (hat  he  was  riding  through  the  country  for  his  own  recreation,  no 
one  would  think  of  asking  him,  "How  fat  can  you  drive  in  a  day?"  nor 
would  it  occur  to  any  one  that  be  was  spending  his  vacation  in  a  particularly 
unreasonable  manner ;  nor  yet  would  a  doubt  be  raised  as  to  the  probabilitv 
□f  hijt  retiirninir  at  his  journey's  end  to  the  same  commonplace  and  unobtru- 
■ning  a  livelihood  to  which  he  had  presuoiably  been  accus- 
lan  on  a  bicycle  is  assumed  by  everybody  to  be  testing  his 
nding  his  entire  physical  energy  on  the  problem  of  covering 
sible  number  of  miles  in  a  given  time.     He  is  also  assumed 
character  continuously,  at  least  to  the  extent  of  havii^  no 
cupation  or  pursuit.     No  one  for  a  moment  thinks  of  him  as 
rk-a-day  member  of  society,  who,  when   his  brief  outing  is 
tbe  common  garb  of  civilization  and  t>ears  a  hand  >^ain  in 


ON  THE  WHEEL.  7 

the  common  battle  for  bread  and  butter.  The  bar-room  gentry,  as  already 
remarked,  accept  him  as  "  a  sport,"  and  yield  to  him  as  his  rightful  due  the 
deference  they  would  humbly  extend  to  a  prize-fighter,  or  coilar-and-elbow 
wrestler,  or  distinguished  gambler,  or  successful  horse-jockey,  or  the  winner 
of  a  long-distance  walking-match.  This  theory,  that  the  rider  must  be 
"  racing  on  a  bet,"  is  also  widely  prevalent  outside  the  bar-rooms.  Second 
only  to  it  in  popularity  is  the  notion  that  he  is  an  agent  for  the  sale  of  the 
machines,  or  at  least  that  the  manufacturers  thereof  pay  him  a  salary  for 
wheeling  himself  through  the  country  as  an  advertisement  for  them,  even  if 
he  is  not  an  out-and-out  "  drummer."  Others,  again,  evidently  look  upon  the 
bicycler  as  a  creature  of  infinite  leisure,  a  favored  child  of  fortune,  who  has 
morosely  turned  his  back  on  "society,"  in  weariness  of  the  conventional 
pleasures  to  which  it  restri<^s  the  possessor  of  wealth;  and  who  has  now 
recklessly  thrown  himself  upon  the  wheel,  as  a  last  desperate  resource  for 
getting  rid  of  his  superfluous  time  and  money. 

When  I  respond  to  the  customary  interrogations  by  saying  that  I  don't 
know  ^  how  far  I  could  ride  in  a  day,"  because  I  never  tried  to  "  make  a 
record  " ;  that  such  brief  bits  of  leisure  as  can  be  snatched  from  the  routine 
business  of  life  I  devote  to  bicycling  simply  "  for  the  fun  of  it,"  because  it  is 
the  cheapest,  healthiest,  and  swiftest  way  yet  devised  for  seeing  something  of 
the  country  and  its  people;  that,  though  I  should  be  sore  and  stiff  and 
weary  at  the  close  of  a  day  spent  in  a  carriage  which  a  horse  had  dragged 
fifty  miles,  I  can  from  my  perch  of  pig-skin  propel  myself  a  similar  distance 
in  a  similar  time  without  any  similar  evil  results ;  when  I  utter  commonplade 
truths  of  this  sort,  I  always  do  it  with  an  amused  consciousness  that  my  scep- 
tical auditors  are  severally  assigning  to  me  in  their  crafty  minds  the  various 
ulterior  motives  before  mentioned  as  somehow  seeming  to  them  a  more  plau- 
sible explanation  of  my  conduct  than  the  motive  which  lies  plainly  on  the  sur- 
face. It  is  not  to  be  denied,  however,  that  the  spectacle  often  presented  by  a 
wheelman  coming  in  at  night,  reeking  with  perspiration,  his  tattered  garments 
discolored  by  dust,  does  seem  a  trifle  inconsistent  with  his  claim  that  he  has 
had  a  pleasant  and  easy  day  of  it;  and  if,  under  such  circumstances,  a  cynic, 
wielding  his  fan  on  the  veranda,  is  to  repeat  the  remark  of  Sir  G.  Cornewall 
Lewis,  that  "life  would  be  a  very  endurable  thing  were  it  not  for  its  amuse- 
ments,**  I  certainly  shall  not  begrudge  him  his  mild  indulgence.  It  seems 
probable,  furthermore,  that  the  scepticism  as  to  the  fact  of  a  bicycle-tour  being 
undertaken  **  merely  for  fun  "  would  be  less  pronounced  where  a  large  party 
were  seen  participating  in  the  amusement ;  for  the  astonishing  lack  of  re- 
source in  himself  possessed  by  the  average  man  is  revealed  by  his  inability 
even  to  comprehend  the  notion  of  another  man's  sticking  to  solitude  as  a  mat- 
ter of  preference  when  on  pleasure  bent.  The  loneliness  of  the  alleged  sport 
is  the  last  straw  which  fixes  his  belief  that  something  else  besides  sport  must 
be  "  behind  "  bicycling.  "  Admitting  everything  you  claim  about  the  ease 
and  exhilaration  of  the  pastime,  what  conceivable  pleasure  can  be  found  in 


8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

taking  long  tours  through  the  country  all  alone  f  **  Such  is  the  **  clincher  ** 
into  which  his  scepticism  is  ultimately  condensed.  My  customary  reply  to  it 
is  in  this  oracular  form :  "  The  pleasure  of  *  riding  alone  *  depends  very  much 
on  whether  or  not  a  man  takes  good  company  with  him/'  It  is  often  funny 
to  watch  the  facial  expression  of  the  people  to  whom  this  explanation  is 
offered.  Some  smile  dubiously,  some  are  perplexed,  some  think  the  speaker 
is  "a  little  ofif ";  even  the  bar-keeper  has  been  observed  to  relax  his  heavy 
brows,  as  if  trying  to  grapple  with  a  thought. 

Some  of  the  things  already  said  by  me  concerning  the  prevalent  ignorance 
and  scepticism  and  misapprehension  about  the  bicycle  may  perhaps  have 
seemed  rather  improbable  to  the  reader,  because  inconsistent  with  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  subject  presumably  diffused  in  all  directions  by  the  eight  or  ten 
thousand  machines  now  in  use  and  by  the  abundant  advertisements  and  news- 
paper articles  concerning  them.  I  therefore  hasten  to  say  that  on  every  exten- 
sive ride  I  not  only  meet  with  many  people  who  have  never  seen  a  bicycle, 
but  I  also  meet  with  not  a  few  who  have  never  even  heard  of  the  existence 
of  such  an  instrument.  Observing  me  rolling  the  thing  along  on  foot,  they 
often  ask  if  I  am  '*  measuring  the  roads  for  a  map  " ;  and  when  I  assert 
in  reply  that  the  wheel  is  designed  to  be  ridden  upon,  they  no  more  believe 
that  I  am  speaking  seriously  than  they  would  if  I  declared  it  to  be  a  balloon 
with  which  one  might  fly  through  the  clouds.  The  words  and  looks  with 
which  such  simple  folk  manifest  their  astonishment  when  the  miraculous 
mount  is  made  into  the  incredible  saddle,  and  the  impossible  vehicle  is  driven 
swiftly  along  before  their  very  eyes,  cannot  be  reproduced  by  any  ingenuity  of 
the  pen.  Neither  can  I  hope,  in  repeating  the  remark  of  an  honest  old  coun- 
tryman whose  carriage  I  passed,  after  giving  the  customary  warning  of 
"  Please  mind  your  horse,  sir,"  to  convey  any  adequate  idea  of  the  overwhelm- 
ing surprise  indicated  by  the  tones  of  his  voice.  His  words  (let  dashes  indi- 
cate his  pauses  for  astonishment  in  uttering  them)  were  these :  "  What — in — 
the— devil— do — ^yon— call — that  ?  "  Comparable  to  this  was  the  speech  of  a 
drowsy  lock-tender  on  the  Erie  Canal,  who  became  conscious  of  my  presence 
only  at  the  instant  of  my  dismounting  close  in  front  of  him :  "  I'll  swear, 
stranger,  "  said  he,  after  recovering  somewhat  from  the  first  shock  of  bewil- 
derment, "if  you  didn't  half  make  me  frightened  1  What  with  your  white 
breeches, — and  white  shirt, — ^and  white  necktie, — and  white  hat, — and  white 
face, — I  almost  thought  the  devil  himself  had  jumped  down  on  me  I "  This 
was  said  with  entire  good  nature,  without  a  suspicion  that  any  part  of  it  could 
be  construed  as  offensive  or  uncomplimentary.  It  seemed  to  the  "  canaller," 
in  fact,  quite  an  achievement  in  the  way  of  facetiousness;  for,  as  I  stepped 
inside  the  lock-house  to  get  a  drink  of  ice-water,  I  heard  him  repeat  it  to  the 
men  who  had  gathered  around  ;  and  when  I  came  out  to  mount,  he  addressed 
every  word  of  it  to  me  again,  while  he  affably  grinned  good-by.  Along  the 
Erie  Canal,  I  may  remind  the  reader,  the  normal  "local  color"  of  the  human 
countenance  is  assumed  to  be  lobster-red.    The  burning   sunshine  maybe 


ON  THE  WHEEL,  9 

accredited  with  this  result  in  the  case  of  the  women  on  the  boats,  but  the  fiery 
beverages  dispensed  at  the  lock-houses  possibly  have  something  to  do  with  it 
in  the  case  of  the  men.  Even  that  mild  decoction  known  as  "  bottled  sarsapa- 
riUa,"  or  "  root  beer,"  which  is  presumably  kept  on  hand  only  to  accommo- 
date the  children  of  the  fleet,  is  given  a  peppery  addition  by  the  bar-keepers 
of  the  canal. 

Of  the  numerous  novel  experiences  I  have  met  with  in  the  course  of  a  hun- 
dred miles  of  tow-path  touring,  the  earliest  was  the  most  exciting,  because  of 
its  suggestion  of  a  tragic  termination.  I  had  passed  many  of  the  boat-pulling 
teams  from  the  rear  without  a  suspicion  of  trouble,  but  the  very  first  pair  of 
mules  that  I  met  face  to  face  suddenly  whirled  about,  and,  tripping  up  their 
driver  with  the  tug-rope,  sent  him  rolling  over  and  over  down  through  the 
weeds  and  brambles  of  a  thirty-foot  embankment.  I  shouted  to  the  man  to 
inquire  if  he  was  hurt  or  if  he  needed  my  help,  but  he  answered  me  not  a 
word.  The  force  of  life-long  conviction  that  there  existed  only  one  responsible 
source  for  all  the  evils  in  the  world — ^namely,his  mules— could  not  be  upset  by 
any  such  slight  tumble.  Getting  his  shaken  body  together,  therefore,  and  scram- 
bling up  the  bank,  he  utterly  ignored  my  existence  or  connection  with  the  case, 
but  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  the  most  profoundly  complicated  cursing  into 
the  capacious  ears  of  his  team,  simultaneously  belaboring  their  well-tanned 
sides  and  quarters.  The  captain's  wife,  however,  took  a  less  mystical  view 
of  the  matter.  Recognizing  in  me  the  responsible  cause  of  the  mules'  mis- 
behavior, she  leveled  against  me  a  tirade  of  righteous  though  somewhat  inco- 
herent indignation  and  abuse.  The  point  of  it  was  that  I  was  liable  to  fine 
or  imprisonment  merely  for  having  a  vehicle  on  the  path,  as  I  must  well  know 
from  the  warning  sign-boards  of  the  bridges,  if  haply  I  had  ever  learned  to 
read;  that  if  the  mules  had. seen  fit  to  commit  suicide  by  jumping  into  the 
canal  or  plunging  down  the  bank,  I  should  have  had  to  pay  the  price  thereof ; 
and  that,  in  general,  only  the  extreme  and  unusual  mildness  of  her  disposition 
caused  her  to  graciously  refrain  from  springing  ashore  and  dragging  me  off  to 
jail  forthwith.  Thereafter,  on  the  tow-path,  I  deferentially  dismounted  in  the 
face  of  all  approaching  mules,  though  their  drivers  often  persuasively  shouted, 
"  Come  on,  cap'n  I  Don't  stop  for  these  damned  mules  I  They  can't  get 
away  with  me.  I'll  risk  'em.  I'll  stand  the  damage."  The  remarks  and 
comments  of  the  people  on  the  boats  were  almost  always  good-natured,  gen- 
erally respectful,  and  rarely  uncivil  or  sarcastic,  even  when  designed  to  be 
jocular  and  to  exhibit  the  smartness  of  the  speaker.  One  form  or  another  of 
" Wheredyecumfrum,  judge?"  and  " Howfuryergoin',  major?"  were  the 
invariable  inquiries,  which  *'  Schenectady  "  and  "  Buffalo  "  satisfactorily  set- 
tled. I  here  call  to  mind  the  quaint  observation  of  a  certain  tall  humorist  at  the 
helm,  who  was  inspired  by  the  presence  of  no  other  auditor 
he  shouted,  "  I  say,  general,  I  wish  I  had  one  of  them 
per  cents ;  I'd  make  you  a  present  of  it."  Much  x\\ 
caution  deprecatingly  administered  to  me  (in  a  tone  aXi 


lo  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

of  one  superior  being  to  his  fellow  of  equal  rank)  by  a  mule-driver  whose 
aspect  was  as  uncouth  and  forbidding  as  that  of  the  ideal  tramp:  ''You 
mustn't  mind  what  these  canallers  say  to  you,  friend.  They  are  a  rough  set" 
A  little  mild  chaff  from  one  of  the  boats  was  the  inspiration  of  this  politely 
apologetic  utterance. 

What  shall  a  wheelman  do  to  be  saved,  however,  when  two  burly  ruffians 
demand  that  he  forthwith  make  an  authoritative  settlement  of  their  long-stand- 
ing philological  dispute  by  "  saying  whether  the  true  name  of  the  machine  is 
'  bicle '  or  '  bihycle' "  ?  What  answer  shall  he  give  to  the  worldly-wise  man 
who  wishes  to  wager  ten  dollars  on  the  impossibility  of  such  a  top-heavy 
concern  being  safely  ridden  ten  miles  in  the  course  of  an  afternoon  ?  The 
cyclometer  is  always  called  *'  the  little  clock,"  or  "  the  watch,'*  by  the  chil- 
dren, while  grown  people  often  air  their  superior  knowledge  by  designat- 
ing it  as  "  a  sort  of  pedometer  "  (pronounced  "  pc^d-o-meet-er  ").  When  they 
add  that  "  at  least  it  works  on  the  same  principle  as  the  pedometer,  doesn't 
it  ?  "  is  it  not  pardonable  for  a  tired  philosopher,  who  never  saw  the  '*  works  " 
of  either  contrivance,  to  reply,  "  I  suppose  so  "  ?  Were  I  an  adept  in  natural 
history,  I  might  be  tempted  to  prepare  a  monograph  concerning  the  traits  of 
cert2un  rare  varieties  of  the  Great  American  Hog  {Porcus  Anuricanus)^  whose 
delight  in  the  dangerous  pastime  of  driving  skittish  and  unmanageable  horses 
would  be  worth  no  more  than  a  passing  remark,  except  for  the  fact  that  the 
mere  act  of  purchasing  a  horse  creates  the  curious  hallucination  that  he  simul- 
taneously purchases  an  exclusive  right  to  the  public  highways.  The  traits 
of  this  Hog  can  be  satisfactorily  studied  only  by  a  bicycler,  for  save  in  his 
inspiring  presence  the  hallucination  lies  dormant  When  the  Hog,  holding 
in  his  well-gloved  hoofs  the  trembling  reins  which  he  knows  not  how  to  prop- 
erly handle,  savagely  shakes  his  silken-hatted  head,  and  opens  his  eminently- 
respectable  mouth  to  abuse  me,  I  seldom  make  reply  of  any  sort.  It  seems  to 
me  that  in  his  case,  as  in  the  case  of  any  other  unfortunate  victim  of  insanity, 
silence  is  the  best  sedative  for  an  angry  outbreak.  But,  as  I  am  not  now  pre- 
paring a  scientific  treatise,  I  can  follow  the  interesting  subject  no  further. 

In  dismissing  the  "  horse  question,"  however,  I  may  remark  that,  as  women 
drivers  are  apt  when  their  horse  gives  any  token  of  nervousness  to  **  pull  him 
in,"  rather  than  apply  the  whip  to  make  him  pass  the  object  of  his  anxiety,  it 
is  a  wise  rule  for  a  bicycler  always  to  dismount  before  an  approaching  team 
which  is  not  guided  by  the  hands  of  a  man.  The  mildest-mannered  horse  in 
existence  may  be  persuaded  by  persistent  pullings-in  to  cramp  the  front  wheel 
backward  until  it  breaks,  or  upsets  the  carriage  into  the  ditch ;  and  I  have 
seen  two  or  three  feats  of  this  sort  slowly  and  sedately  performed  by  animals 
which  were  not  at  all  frightened,  and  which,  under  proper  guidance,  would  have 
jogged  past  the  bicycle  without  a  tremor.  I  ought  to  say,  though,  in  recom- 
mending the  universal  dismount  before  womankind,  that  some  representatives 
thereof  will  perhaps  be  found  "  uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please,"  even  by  a 
man  who  loyally  obeys  the  rule ;  for  I  remember  stopping  on  one  occasion 


ON  THE  WHEEL.  1 1 

for  a  raw'boned  and  decrepit  "plug,"  in  the  toils  of  an  angular  and  shrill- 
loiced  woman,  who  exclaimed  excitedly  as  they  slowly  passed  me  (a  alight 
pricking  of  the  ears  being  the  only  sign  of  animation  on  the  pari  of  the  horse). 
"  If  you'd  ba'  set  still  he  wouldn't  ha'  been  scairt."  With  this  I  may  pechaps 
be  pardoned  for  coupling  another  instance  of  road-side  rudeness  manifested 
by  the  sex.  Overtaking  a  pair  of  well-dicssed  and  comely-appearing  women 
on  a  country  sidewalk,  where  the  act  of  stepping  aside  involved  no  possible 
trouble,  I  pTOffered,  in  my  most  suave  and  winning  accents,  the  customary  re- 
quest, "  Will  you  please  give  me  the  inside  track  for  a  moment  P "  Imagine 
my  sucprise,  therefore,  when  one  of  the  women,  who  had  been  for  some  time 
taking  glances  backward  to  measure  my  approach,  continued  bravely  on  in 
the  middle  of  the  pathway,  only  yielding  it  to  me  as  I  was  just  on  the  point 
of  being  forced  to  dismount,  and  then  remarking,  "  I  suppose  you  know  what 
ihe  law  is,  mister?" — "  Yes,  indeed,  madam,"  said  I :  "the  law  is  that  a  lady 
must  always  have  the  grace  to  grant  any  trivial  favor  which  a  man  asks  of 
ber  civilly."    Our  conversation  extended  no  further. 

*'  Bicycle-touring  may  be  all  very  fine  in  Great  Britain,  or  on  the  conti- 
nent of  Europe,  where  the  roads  have  been  used  and  kept  in  repair  for  cen- 
turies, but  it  can  hardly  be  practicable  in  America,  where  Ihe  highways  are 
generally  poor,  except  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  big  cities, — the  early  intro- 
duction of  railways  having  removed  Ihe  chief  incentive  to  good  road-building 
on  this  side  the  Atlantic."  Such  is  a  fair  statement  of  the  a  priori  view  of 
the  case  ;  and  it  must  seem  a  perfectly  plausible  and  reasonable  view  to  those 
who  have  not  made  themselves  minutely  acquainted  with  the  facts.  The 
facts,  however,  as  brought  to  light  by  Ihe  actual  explorations  of  bicyclers, 
show  that  the  view  in  question  is  entirely  erroneous.  The  truth  is  that  there 
are  many  sections  of  the  United  States  where  good  riding  may  be  had  almost 
ctmtinuously  for  a  hundred  miles  at  a  stretch,  and  where,  by  the  aid  of  train 
or  boat,  much  longer  lours  may  be  readily  laid  out.  In  offering  examples  of 
these  I  wilt  confine  myself  to  paths  over  which  I  have  personally  pushed  the 
wheel  in  the  course  of  the  last  two  years  (during  which  my  cyclometer  has 
registered  some  four  thousand  miles),  though  the  log-books  of  riders  in 
other  parts  of  the  country  might  doubtless  show  a  record  of  many  additional 

. 11 ^-^ble  and   attractive.     The  "  Connecticut  Valley  trip  " 

riden  and  extend  northward  through  Hartford,  Spring- 
Brattleboro  to  Bellows  Falls, — say  one  hundred  and 
;  thence  by  train  over  the  mountain  lo  Rutland  (two 
lay  there  begin  a  charming  course  of  twenty-five  miles  lo 
George  ;  and,  having  "  done  "  the  beautiful  lake  to  any 
,  he  may  drive  his  wheel  from  Caldwell  lo  Albany,  about 
e  down  the  old  post-road  on  the  east  side  of  the  Hudson 
fork.  Here  is  a  track  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
igh  four  Stales,  embracing  a  great  variety  of  a 
ith  in  hi'  'ins  and  in  objects  of  *" 


12  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

poraneous  human  interest."  A  fortnight  given  to  this  tour  would  cost  a  man 
but  forty  dollars,  and  he  might  reduce  the  cost  to  thirty  if  he  cared  to  econo- 
mize. 

From  Niagara  I  have  ridden  to  Buffalo,  Erie,  and  Ashtabula, — one  hun- 
dred and  fifty-six  miles, — in  three  successive  days,  over  the  excellent  "  ridge- 
road,"  which  generally  keeps  in  sight  of  the  lake.  I  recommend,  however, 
that  the  tourist  who  tries  this  track  should  start  at  Girard,  in  the  northwest 
comer  of  Pennsylvania,  and  ride  eastward  to  Niagara,  whence,  I  am  told,  a 
good  road  runs  to  Rochester  and  Syracuse, — ^at  which  latter  point  my  own 
knowledge  of  the  Erie  tow-path  ends.  I  found  it  impossible  to  do  any  rapid 
riding  on  that  path,  for  I  was  three  days  in  covering  one  hundred  and  ten 
miles;  but  it  may  be  inferred  from  some  of  my  previous  remarks  that  the 
chance  there  afforded  for  holding  sweet  communion  with  the  "canallers" 
was  a  thing  which  had  not  a  little  attractive  force,  and  I  will  also  add  that 
the  scenery  of  the  lower  Mohawk  Valley  from  Schenectady  to  Utica  makes 
the  route  a  pleasant  one  to  explore.  On  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal, 
which  extends  along  the  border  of  Maryland  for  one  hundred  and  eighty-four 
miles,  from  Cumberland  to  Georgetown,  I  found  the  scenery  of  the  upper 
half  the  more  attractive,  while  the  riding  was  much  smoother  than  below. 
From  New  York  to  Boston  the  best  road  lies  along  the  towns  of  the  sea-shore 
as  far  as  New  Haven,  whence  it  goes  inland  through  Hartford,  Springfield, 
and  Worcester.  Beyond  Boston  the  tour  may  be  continued  up  the  coast  as 
far  as  the  river  which  separates  Maine  from  New  Hampshire  at  Portsmouth, 
say  sixty-five  miles.  The  return  trip  from  Boston  may  be  made  through 
Taunton  or  Providence  to  Newport,  where  a  transfer  must  be  effected  to 
Greenport,  on  the  eastern  extremity  of  Long  Island.  The  road  usually  tak9n 
from  that  point  to  New  York  City  measures  just  about  a  hundred  miles,  and 
the  trip  to  Portsmouth  and  back  as  thus  outlined  implies  rather  more  than 
five  times  that  distance  to  be  gone  over  upon  the  wheel.  The  journey  can  be 
pleasantly  accomplished  in  three  weeks,  though  a  tourist  who  has  leisure  to 
inspect  the  various  wonders  on  the  way  may  well  devote  four  to  it.  Some  of 
the  smoothest  sections  of  the  whole  track  are  on  the  south  shore  of  Long 
Island ;  and  it  may  be  worth  recording  that  last  year,  on  the  first  Wednesday 
of  September,  between  six  in  the  morning  and  seven  at  night,  I  rode  through 
the  Island,  from  Sayville  to  Flushing,  a  distance  of  more  than  fifty  miles 
though  the  mercury  stood  for  much  of  the  time  at  loo^  in  the  shade,  and 
most  of  my  riding  was  done  in  the  fierce  glare  of  the  sun.  Inasmuch  as  that 
day  all  along  the  Atlantic  slope  was  by  official  observation  not  only  "the 
hottest  on  record  for  the  season  of  iS8i,"  but  also  "  the  hottest  on  record  for 
the  past  seven  years,"  I  think  that  my  ride,  attended  as  it  was  by  no  exces- 
sive discomfort  and  followed  by  no  evil  effects,  speaks  well  for  the  physical 
healthfulness  of  bicycling. 

When  bad  wheeling  compels  the  tourist  to  resort  to  the  railroad  train,  he 
usually  has  little  difficulty  in  securing  safe  transit  for  his  wheel  in  the  bag- 


ON  THE  WHEEL.  13 

gagc-ear,  after  placating  the  lordly  commander  thereof  either  with  civil  expla- 
nations or  with  a  quarter-do llir  in  current  coin  \  but  it  is  greatly  to  be  desired 
that  the  transportalion  companies  should  issue  definite  and  intelligently-con- 
sidered regulations  concerning  this  peculiar  class  of  "baggage."  Neither 
does  the  tourist  often  have  much  trouble  in  "finding  his  way"  from  one 
point  to  another  of  his  chosen  route,  for  the  "  best  roads  " — which  are  the 
ones  selected  for  louring — are  usually  the  old-established  thoroughfares, 
whose  identity  is  apt  to  be  well  preserved  al  the  forks  and  crosses,  and,  in 
cases  of  doubt,  a  house  generally  comes  within  hail  before  many  miles  are 
traversed.  It  is  not  difficult  to  so  plan  one's  movements  in  a  given  day  as  to 
be  sure  of  having  a  hotel  within  reach  about  noon  and  about  nightfall;  but 
the  decision  as  to  where  one's  baggage  shall  be  sent  two  or  three  days  ahead 
is  not  quite  so  easy.  One  complete  change  of  clothing  in  addition  to  what  he 
wears  is  about  all  that  a  wheelman  can  comfortably  carry,  and  this  does  well 
enough  for  the  first  night,  but  by  the  second  or  at  latest  the  third  night  it 
becomes  very  desirable  for  him  to  reach  his  "  base  of  supplies."  To  deter- 
mine in  advance  the  proper  point  to  establish  this  al,  when  planning  a  tour 
on  an  unknoivn  road,  where  the  rate  of  progress  is  uncertain,  is  one  of  Ihe 
most  puzzling  problems  for  the  tourist. 

The  food  and  lodging  which  one  gets  at  the  country  hotels  are  usually 
endurable,  and  are  supplied  to  the  bicycler  when  he  is  least  in  a  mood  to  be 
exacting  in  his  demands.  He  furthermore  has  the  assurance  of  being  invited 
10  sleep  in  "  the  best  room  "  that  the  house  contains,  and  of  being  "  fed  off 
from  the  top  shelf  "  of  its  pantry.  He  has  numberless  chances  for  observing 
novel  and  unaccustomed  phases  of  "American  cookery,"  "  table-manners," 
and  "  waiting."  The  universal  negro  waiter,  as  is  well  known,  likes  to  dis- 
pense his  dishes  and  arrange  the  table-ware  with  a  grand  flourish  and  clatter 
and  uproar;  but  it  struck  me  as  funny  that  the  women  waiters  who  lake  control 
of  the  wayfarer  at  most  of  the  hotels  in  the  Mohawk  Valley  should  agree  in 
cherishing  as  llitir  ideal  of  extreme  "style"  in  table-service  the  knack  of 
giving  rapid  utterance  to  the  names  of  several  dishes  on  the  bill-o£-fare,  as  if 
Ihey  all  composed  a  single  word.  None  of  these  girls  ever  shows  the  slight- 
est tact  in  observing  the  real  wants  of  a  person  at  the  table  or  in  supplying 
"     '      ■  ....  ^j  jj^j^  Roastbeefroastturkeyboiled 

:  cose  practically  ceases,  and  she 
1  the  proud  consciousness  of  duty 
It  in  an  impressive  and  stylish  man- 
louse.  Incidentally  she  may  occa- 
the  dishes  that  have  been  ordered 

r  discuss  the  relations  of  the  Small 
lortant  and  interesting  a  character 
could  pretend  to  do  them  justice. 
meeringly  of  the  aport  that  it  is  a 


14  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

"boyish  pastime  "  for  grown  men  to  engage  in,  I  feel  like  saying  to  him  that 
if  he  would  substitute  "boy-like**  for  the  other  adjective  he  might  speak 
more  truly,  and  might  thereby  give  the  highest  praise  that  can  be  given  to 
bicycling.  Certainly  may  it  be  said  that  no  genuine,  healthily-organized  boy 
is  now  drawing  the  breath  of  life  who  can  look  upon  the  glittering  spokes  of 
a  bicycle  without  an  ardent  longing  to  have  them  whirling  merrily  under  his 
toes;  and  certainly  do  I  believe  that  no  grown  man  who  takes  delight  in 
swiftly  cleaving  the  air  on  the  back  of  the  silent  steed  of  steel  can  fail  to 
carry  with  him  some  of  the  noble  freshness  and  bloom  of  boyhood, — "  the 
golden,  the  happy,  the  unf orgotten  I  *'  It  was  Coleridge,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  who  insisted  that  the  simple  secret  of  genius  is  the  art  of  carrying 
into  mature  years  the  free  heart  and  fiery  enthusiasm  of  early  youth, — the  art 
of  keeping  boy-like  to  the  last  Such,  at  all  events,  seems  to  me  to  be  the 
secret  of  happiness,  and  such  is  the  theory  on  which  I  base  the  assumption 
that  the  votaries  of  a  pastime  pre-eminently  "boy-like**  are,  as  a  class,  a 
pre-eminently  happy  set  of  individuals.  Presumptively  a  good  bicycler  is 
always  and  everywhere  "a  good  fellow.**  Genuine  wheelmen  grow  readily 
acquainted  with  one  another,  off-hand  and  "boy-fashion,**  because  the  ele- 
ment of  heartiness  and  sincerity  in  the  sport  creates  the  same  feeling  of  fra- 
ternity and  kinship  which  exists  between  boys  up  to  the  period  when  estrange- 
ment is  caused  by  the  advent  of  worldly  wisdom. 

The  quick  formation  of  bicycle  clubs  wherever  groups  of  wheelmen  are 
found  to  exist  is  often  mentioned  as  a  proof  of  the  sociability  of  the  sport ; 
and  the  ready  opportunities  thus  afforded  for  making  pleasant  acquaintance 
with  men  in  all  sections  of  the  country  are  also  included  among  its  advan- 
tages. All  these  things  I  have  refrained  from  enlarging  upon,  both  because 
others  have  better  said  what  could  be  said  and  because  they  are  almost  self- 
evident, — ^"  they  go  without  saying.**  I  have  preferred  rather  to  praise  the 
bicycle  in  its  character  as  a  solace  for  the  solitary ;  as  a  companion  for  those 
whom  the  voice  of  nature  or  of  fate  has  commanded  to  hold  themselves  apart 
from  the  hurly-burly;  as  a  device  for  enabling  the  philosophic  observer  to  be 
among  people  without  being  of  them,  to  examine  at  first  hand  all  phases  of 
life  and  society  without  revealing  the  mystery  of  his  own  personality.  The 
bicycler  is  a  sort  of  benevolent  Asmodeus.  In  him  is  realized  the  myth  con- 
cerning the  traveler  with  the  seven-league  boots  and  the  invisible  cloak.  He 
can  swiftly  betake  himself  to  remote  regions,  can  see  and  hear  all  things  while 
his  own  presence  is  undisclosed.  Were  old  Diogenes  searching  for  the  honest 
man  to-day,  he  would  surely  tour  on  a  bicycle ;  though  perhaps  the  object  of 
his  search,  bebg  presumably  a  bicycler  also,  would  prove  a  faster  rider. 


AFTER  BEER.' 


[Inspired  by  fifteen  jears'  contemplation  of  "Beer,"  as  prepared  b;  the 
iate  George  Arnold  for  Tkt  New  York  Saturday  Prist,  of  August  ii,  1865.] 


Genteel, 
On  my  wheel 

I  sit. 
The  vulgar  mob  may  flit 

Below; 

They  go 
Unheeded  by; 
And,  aa  they  Sy, 
I, 
Honnted  high. 

Sit. 
Toming  with  toe  or  heel 
Hy  wheel  I 


Oh  I  finer  far 

Than  fame  or  riches  are 

The  caracoiings  of  this  airy  cart 

Why 

Should  1 

Weep,  wdl  or  sigh  ? 

What  if  age  has  dimmed  my  eye  f 
What  if  I'm  truly  said 
Not  to  be  worth  a  red? 

Stuff  I 

I've  enough  i 
My  iteed  of  steel— 
My  wheel  I 


Go,  whining  youth. 

Forsooth  I 
Travel  by  rail  j 
Fish,  or  shoot  quail ; 

Weave  melancholy  rhymes 

On  the  old  times 
Whose  sports  to  memory  now  appeal ; 
■"  " '  w  my  wheel. 

lelts  like  snow ; 


troubles  down, 

n  from  town  to  town, 
IT  the  crown, 
\<X  or  whoa  t 


III. 

■ 

WHITE  FLANNEL  AND  NICKEL  PLATE.* 

Those  five  words  would  form  my  answer  to  anyone  who  might  repeat 
to  me  the  question  which  an  ingenuous  youth  recently  addressed  to  an 
editor :  "  Will  you  tell  me  briefly  what  is  the  best  costume  to  adopt  for  tour- 
ing on  a  bicycle  ? "  I  smiled  a  smile  when  I  read  the  enquiry,  because  of 
its  amusing  assumption  that,  in  a  matter  so  notoriously  dependent  upon 
individual  taste,  any  single  conceivable  costume  is  demonstrably  "  the  best." 
Nevertheless,  if  anyone  cares  tp  call  upon  me  as  an  oracle,  I  trust  I  shall 
always  be  found  ready  to  respond  with  a  properly  oracular  utterance.  I  at 
least  know  by  experience  what  is  "  the  best "  for  myself,  and  that  is  about  as 
much  as  anyone  can  fairly  pretend  to  know  when  he  grapples  with  the  tre- 
mendous subject  of  "clothes."  At  least  half  of  the  four  thousand  miles 
registered  by  niy  cyclometer  presumably  represents  tours  and  excursions ;  and 
the  object  of  my  present  writing  is  not  to  give  advice  to  any  other  tourist,  actual 
or  prospective,  but  rather  to  explain  why  I  individually,  when  on  a  tour,  find 
the  superlative  degree  of  comfort  assured  me  by  the  presence  of  white  flannel 
and  nickel  plate.  If  any  buyer  of  this  book  shall  feel  impelled  to  follow 
my  example,  well  and  good ;  I  will  not  attetnpt  to  collect  any  royalty  from 
him  for  the  privilege.  But  if  anyone  shall  venture  to  misrepresent  me  as  ask- 
ing others  to  follow  my  example,  he  will  do  so  at  his  peril.  Should  such  a 
person  ever  venture  into  the  wildwoods  of  Washington  Square,  he  must  ex- 
pect me  to  collar  him  and  to  insist  on  forthwith  fighting  for  the  beer. 

The  advantage  of  wearing  a  white  riding-shirt,  like  the  advantage  of  wear- 
ing a  white  dress-shirt  when  not  riding,  rather  than  a  colored  one,  is  largely 
a  moral  advantage :  for,  as  the  white  fabric  shows  the  dirt  sooner  than  any 
other,  its  wearer  is  forced  to  keep  himself  clean.  The  owner  of  a  so-called 
"  patent  never-get-dirty  "  shirt,  of  grey  or  brown,  may  sweat  through  an  entire 
season  without  once  consulting  the  laundry,  but  the  patron  of  white  flannel 
must  make  frequent  visits  there  if  he  wishes  to  retain  the  right  to  his  name. 
By  making  the  shirt  reversible,  it  is  possible  to  put  to  use  both  sides  of  the 
collar,  and  that  is  the  part  which  becomes  soonest  soiled ;  but  the  whole  gar- 
ment will  have  to  go  to  the  wash-tub  at  the  end  of  five  or  six  days,  and  oftener 
at  the  end  of  two  or  three.  As  each  washing  causes  a  shrinkage,  it  is  well 
to  begin  with  a  very  loose  collar.  When  this  grows  too  small,  it  can  be  cut 
down  to  the  second  button.    Finally  the  collar  can  be  cut  off  entirely  and  the 

iFrom  "  Whirling  Wheek:  the  Wheelman's  Annual  lor  i88a,"  pp.  tiT-119  (Salem,  Mass. : 
J.  P.  Burbank,  1882,  lamo,  pp.  135,  price  $1.00). 


WHITE  FLANNEL  AND  NICKEL  PLA  TE, 


17 


garment  used  as  an  undershirt.  As  for  one's  white  flannel  knee-breeches, 
by  the  time  their  waistband  gets  shrunk  beyond  the  buttoning  point,  the 
breeches  themselves  become  worn  out  and  may  wisely  be  torn  into  rags  for 
the  polishing  of  the  nickel  plate. 

Breeches,  shirt,  undershirt,  drawers,  socks  and  shoes,  in  addition  to  those 
worn  by  the  rider,  can  be  tied  up  tightly  together  in  a  roll,  with  comb,  hair- 
brush, tooth-brush,  sponge,  soap  and  vaseline ;  and  around  this  in  turn  can 
be  rolled  his  coat.  Stout  cords  have  seemed  to  me  more  satisfactory  than 
leather  straps  in  securing  this  roll  to  the  handle-bar,  or  in  slinging  it  over 
one's  shoulder  when  coasting  was  to  be  indulged  in.  Straps  always  let  the  roll 
sag  down  too  far  on  the  brake,  while  by  careful  tying  of  good  strings  it  can  be 
kept  well  on  top  of  the  handle-bar,  though  the  strings  have  to  be  tightened  oc- 
casionally to  check  the  sagging.  An  excellent  device  for  preventing  this  is  the 
Lamson  patent  "  bicycle  shawl-strap,''  of  which  I  made  satisfactory  trial  on 
my  latest  tour.  The  wires  of  this  contrivance  are  so  small  that  it  can  readily 
be  put  in  the  pocket  or  slung  osix  the  shoulder  with  the  roll  to  which  it  is 
attached,  whenever  one  desires  to  have  his  handle-bar  free.  In  dismounting 
at  noon  to  sit  at  a  hotel  table,  one's  coat  may  be  easily  assumed  without  dis- 
turbing the  inner  roll.  I  do  not  insist  that  this  coat  shall  be  m^de  of  white 
flannel,  since  it  is  not  to  be  worn  on  the  bicycle,  but  the  lighter  and  shorter  it 
is  the  better.  A  linen  duster  and  a  flannel  jacket  made  without  lining  have 
in  turn  served  me  well.  When  the  day's  ride  is  ended,  I  take  a  sponge  bath, 
apply  vaseline  to  any  bruised  or  sore  spots,  assume  new  clothes  throughout 
and  arrange  to  have  the  damp  clothes  I  have  been  riding  in  properly  dried 
during  the  night  for  use  in  the  next  day's  ride. 

My  wish  always  is  in  planning  a  tour  to  send  my  valise  ahead  of  me  where 
I  may  meet  it  at  the  end  of  the  second  or  third  day,  but  it  is  often  impractica- 
ble to  arrange  any  meeting  of  this  sort  when  one  starts  out  on  an  unexplored 
path,  and  in  my  last  tour,  which  was  an  all-quiet  one  along  the  Potomac,  I 
was  five  nights  as  well  as  five  days  away  from  my  base  of  supplies.  I  suf- 
fered no  special  inconvenience,  however,  though  my  outfit  was  the  simple 
one  before  described,  with  the  addition  of  a  razor  and  a  third  undershirt. 
I  have  never  experimented  with  "  M.  I.  P. "  or  other  bags,  which  are  designed 
to  encumber  the  backbone  or  handle-bar  or  axle  of  the  bicycle,  and  I  never 
intend  to.  There  seems  no  sense  in  handicapping  one's  wheel  with  the  weight 
of  a  bag  (letting  alone  its  ugly  appearance,  and  the  awkwardness  of  climbing 
over  it)  when  the  coat  or  shirt  which  necessarily  forms  a  part  of  the  baggage 
will  answer  all  the  purposes  of  a  bag.  The  necessities  of  touring  are  con- 
fined absolutely  to  the  articles  which  I  have  named,  and  those  can  surely  be  car- 
ried more  compactly  and  comfortably  in  a  roll  than  in  a  bag.  The  luxuries  of 
touring  are  innumerable,  and  nothing  less  than  a  valise,  sent  by  express  from 
place  to  place,  can  keep  the  bicycler  supplied  with  any  appreciable  amount  of 
them.  A  good  wheelman,  like  a  good  soldier,  should  be  proud  to  go  in  light 
marching  order,  carrying  in  compact  form  the  things  that  he  really  needs,  and 


i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

carrying  nothing  else.  On  my  first  tour,  I  packed  my  traps  in  a  bag  which 
was  shaped  like  an  old-fashioned  cartridge-box,  which  opened  by  lifting  a  flap 
at  the  side,  and  which  had  straps  at  the  ends  for  slinging  over  one's  shoulder. 
The  trouble  is  that  a  strap  or  string  of  this  sort,  though  not  unpleasant  for  a 
few  hours'  ride,  finally  chafes  and  tires  one's  shoulders  if  carried  all  day  long. 
The  bag  or  bundle  also  gives  an  uncomfortable  heat  to  one's  back,  especially 
in  summer  time.  I  should  presume  this  latter  objection,  in  a  lesser  degree, 
might  hold  good  against  Mr.  Wright's  "  take-me-too  "  device,  which  consists 
of  a  waist-belt  to  which  a  roll  may  be  strapped  on  behind  without  sagging. 
Though  I  have  not  tried  it,  I  have  no  doubt  this  is  a  good  thing  for  a  short 
ride ;  but  for  an  extended  tour  the  handle-bar  seems  to  me  the  best  place  on 
which  to  strap  one's  luggage.  * 

I  have  never  had  a  lantern,  and  it  appears  to  me  a  needless  encum- 
brance for  the  tourist.  The  "  handy  English  tool-bag  "  I  consider  a  great  im- 
provement upon  the  ordinary  "  pocket-book  "  style  of  saddle  bag,  being  noise- 
less and  more  secure  against  intrusion — though  I  have  had  an  oil-can  and 
a  wrench  stolen  from  it  at  different  times,  by  the  loungers  of  certain  lager- 
beer  saloons  where  I  left  my  wheel  over  night.  India-rubber  drinking  cups 
are  perhaps  worth  carrying,  though,  after  losing  three  from  my  pockets,  I 
have  lately  dispensed  with  them.  India-rubber  pocket  pouches  or  purses,  to 
prevent  the  wetting  of  paper  money  and  the  rusting  of  keys  and  knives,  I  have 
also  found  serviceable.  A  straw  hat  for  summer,  and  a  flat  velveteen  hat  for 
early  spring  and  late  autumn,  are  my  preferences  in  respect  to  head-covering. 
Here,  too,  I  may  add  as  a  special  summer  recommendation  for  a  white  riding 
costume,  its  non-attractive  quality  as  concerns  the  rays  of  the  sun.  I  cannot 
too  highly  praise  the  comfort  and  convenience  ensured  by  wearing  "ball- 
catcher's  gloves  "  which  protect  the  palm  and  leave  the  fingers  entirely  free. 
The  back  of  the  hand  is  also  uncovered,  the  glove  being  kept  in  place  by  a 
button  behind  the  wrist.  The  cost  varies  from  seventy-five  cents  to  twice 
that  amount,  according  to  the  quality  of  the  buckskin. 

Perhaps  it  is  the  result  of  my  country  "  bringing  up  "  that  I  always  wear 
boots  rather  than  shoes  for  out-door  walking.  Anyhow,  being  accustomed  to 
boots  alone,  it  seemed  to  me  the  proper  thing  to  continue  wearing  them  when 
I  first  got  astride  a  bicycle;  and  my  touring  experiences  have  only  confirmed 
my  partiality  for  that  sort  of  leg-covering.  In  one  of  my  earliest  rides  a  dog 
took  my  left  calf  between  his  jaws,  and  had  it  not  been  cased  in  leather  he 
would  have  taken  a  part  of  it  away  with  him.  He  didn't  hurt  me  much  in 
fact,  but  he  cured  me  of  all  inclination  to  expose  my  extremities  in  the  regu- 
lation stockings  and  low  shoes,  which  most  bicyclers  affect.  I  should  sup- 
pose that  the  dust  and  sand  and  mud  would  work  their  way  disagreeably  into 
such  shoes  on  long  tours  where  much  walking  had  to  be  done„  and  that  the 
freezing  cold  air  would  work  its  way  disagreeably  through  such  stockings  on 
wintry  days.  But  never  mind ;  boots  also  have  their  disadvantages.  On  a 
hot  day  the  legs  of  a  bicycler's  boots  are  apt  to  get  so  damp  from  perspiration. 


WHITE  FLANNEL  AND  NICKEL  PLA  TE.  19 

that,  if  he  takes  them  off,  he  can't  pull  them  on  again  until  they  have  been 
dried.  Hence,  it  is  a  rather  hazardous  venture  for  him  to  take  a  swim,  no 
matter  how  tempting  a  lake  or  river  may  be  by  the  roadside,  until  he  gets  to 
the  end  of  his  day's  riding.  The  lower  button  of  the  breeches-leg  put  through 
a  slit  in  the  top  of  the  boot  readily  keeps  it  in  place  and  prevents  all  dust 
from  entering.  Top-boots  that  reach  to  the  knee,  and  are  made  of  leather 
stiff  enough  to  prevent  any  sagging  at  the  ankle,  I  have  found  agreeable  for' 
winter  riding.  A  velveteen  jacket  and  corduroy  breeches  I  consider  a  suit- 
able rig  for  short  rides  in  the  cold  weather.  As  a  club  uniform  is  a  thing  which 
exists  only  for  purposes  of  display,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  jacket,  whatever  its 
color,  should  be  made  of  velveteen,  and  that  the  breeches,  whatever  the  ma- 
terial, should  be  white.  Any- club  that  disregards  either  of  these  two  points 
decreases  by  just  so  much  its  chance  of  showing  off  well  on  the  grand  parade. 
Were  I  a  club-man  I  should  force  all  my  fellow  members  to  turn  out  in  jack- 
ets^ of  crimson  velveteen,  or  else  I  should  kill  them,  every  one  I 

Velveteen  is  really  the  cheapest  because  it  is  the  most  durable  of  fabrics 
to  employ  for  such  a  purpose,  and  even  the  first  cost  of  a  riding-coat  made 
of  it  (say  fifteen  to  twenty  dollars)  is  not  so  very  much  in  excess  of  one  made 
of  any  other  good  cloth ;  though  the  latter  will  grow  shabby  in  a  season  or  two 
while  the  former  will  last  for  a  lifetime.  Cheap  as  it  is,  however,  its  showiness 
makes  it  seem  unsuitable  for  ordinary  masculine  attire  (professional  gamblers 
and  Italian  pea-nut  venders  being  the  only  two  classes  of  men  who  habitually 
wear  it),  and  hence,  like  other  rare  and  unusual  things,  it  impresses  the  average 
beholder  as  being  extremely  costly  as  well  as  ornate.  A  dozen  glossy  jackets 
of  velveteen  in  a  club  parade  will  seem  more  imposing  than  twice  that  num- 
ber made  of  commoner  cloth ;  just  as  the  dazzling  brightness  of  completely 
nickeled  bicycles  will  challenge  twice  as  much  admiration  as  the  glitterless 
whirring  of  those  which  are  "  as  common  looking  as  carriage  wheels."  Both 
the  shiny  coats  and  the  shiny  wheels,  because  they  are  so  distinctly  contrasted 
to  the  popular  conception  of  such  things,  appeal  strongly  to  the  popular 
imagination,  and  hence  help  to  give  dignity  to  the  pastime  of  bicycling.  A  long 
procession  of  men  "  in  silk  attire,"  sitting  on  "  wheels  of  silver,"  is  too  sig- 
nificant a  spectacle  "  to  be  sneezed  at " ;  even  the  wayfaring  man  must  be 
impressed  by  the  notion  that  it  represents  something  solid  and  permanent. 
As  regards  the  solitary  rider,  the  sheen  of  his  plush  jacket  in  cold  weather, 
like  the  whiteness  of  his  flannel  shirt  and  breeches  in  summer,  gives  an  "  object 
lesson  "  to  everyone  whom  he  meets,  for  it  plainly  proves  that  he  has  not  been 
tumbled  into  the  mud,  nor  rolled  in  the  dust,  nor  smeared  with  grease  and  oil. 
It  shows,  therefore,  that  the  bicycle  is  a  safe  vehicle  and  a  clean  one. 

The  advantage  which  nickel  plate  gives  the  tourist  is,  like  the  advantage 
of  wearing  a  white  shirt,  chiefly  a  moral  advantage,  though  in  a  somewhat 
different  sense.  It  is  a  voucher  for  his  respectability,  an  emblem  of  the  prob- 
able presence  in  his  pockets  of  money  enough  to  pay  for  all  he  wants.  The 
glittering  spokes  of  an  aU«^ight  bicycle  enlighten  the  stupidest  landlord  to 


20  TEN  THOUSAND  M/LES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  fact  that  the  bedraggled  and  mud-bespattered  man  who  pushes  it  along 
is  not  a  casual  tramp,  but  a  person  of  substance  whom  it  will  be  politic  to 
treat  with  civility  and  deference.  Even  the  lordly  commander  of  the  baggage- 
car  loses  something  of  his  surliness  when  confronted  by  so  splendid  an  object, 
and  is  less  inclined  to  resent  its  presence  in  the  realm  of  trunks  as  an  intru- 
sion. A  machine  with  rusty  wires  and  painted  backbone,  though  it  may  be 
an  excellent  roadster  and  may  represent  a  hundred  dollars  or  more  of  hard 
cash,  doesn't  impress  itself  on  the  uninitiated  as  anything  better  than  "  an  old 
five-dollar  plug,  which  any  beggar  might  own  ";  but  no  one  can  fail  to  compre- 
hend that  a  "  wheel  of  silver  "  must  have  "  money  behind  it,"  and  to  govern 
himself  accordingly.  Even  the  most  reckless  baggage-smasher  stands  in 
a  certain  awe  of  such  a  beautiful  instrument  and  hesitates  about  handling  it 
harshly,  though  he  may  have  no  compunctions  whatever  about  slamming  a 
painted  bicycle  from  one  end  of  the  car  to  the  other  with  all  his  wonted 
hilarity.  • 

Nickel  has  the  further  advantage  of  requiring  a  man  to  spend  consider- 
able time  in  keeping  it  clean, — time  which  the  owner  of  a  painted  bicycle  in 
similar  circumstances  would  waste  rather  than  spend.  When  a  rider  dis- 
mounts in  a  dripping  perspiration  and  enters  a  cold  baggage-car  or  colder 
ferry-boat,  the  exercise  afforded  him  in  polishing  his  wheel  is  a  very  salutary 
thing  in  preventing  a  too  rapid  change  of  his  bodily  temperature.  It  is  while 
he  is  working  thus  also  that  the  members  of  the  admiring  crowd  surrounding 
him  pluck  up  courage  to  ask  the  usual  leading  questions,  behind  his  back, 
which  they  would  not  venture  to  do  to  his  face,  were  he  standing  by  entirely 
disengaged.  Again,  if  a  man  is  occupied  in  cleaning  up  his  wheel  in  a  coun- 
try bar>room,  the  loungers  around  the  stove  go  right  on  with  their  customary 
bragging  and  lying  to  one  another,  oblivious  of  his  presence,  though  if  he 
were  simply  an  idler  like  themselves,  they  would  object  to  him  as  an  intruder 
aitd  keep  as  mum  as  oysters.  Thus  it  is  that  the  nickel  plate  of  his  bicycle 
serves  the  philosophic  tourist  as  a  mirror  in  which  to  watch  the  varying 
phases  of  human  nature  around  him;  and  thus  it  is  that  its  moral  influence 
is  as  conducive  to  his  advantage  as  is  the  moral  influence  of  the  white  flannel 
in  which  he  encases  himself. 


Addendum,  March  20,  1885. — ^The  experiences  of  three  later  years  ('7,300  m. )  have  not 
changed  at  all  my  philosophy  of  touring,  as  formulated  in  the  foregoing  essay,  which  repre- 
sented the  lessons  of  my  three  earliest  years  (4,200  m.)  as  a  wheelman;  and  my  practices  have 
undergone  but  slight  modification.  The  chief  change  has  been  the  substitution  of  shoes  for 
boots,  to  avoid  the  designated  disadvantage  of  being  frequently  forced  to  dry  the  boot-legs,  after 
they  have  become  saturated  with  sweat.  In  the  spring  of  1883,  I  paid  $2  for  having  a  pair  of 
india-rubber  soles  added  to  my  riding-boots ;  but,  though  their  corrugated  surfaces  increased  the 
firmness  of  my  foothold  on  the  pedals,  the  device  seems  too  costly  a  one  to  be  worth  the  tourist*s 
adoption.  The  wear  caused  by  incidental  walking  on  rough  roadways  proved  quickly  destructive 
of  such  soles ;  and,  after  I  had  suffered  some  annoyance  from  their  getting  loose  and  tattered  at 
the  edges,  I  tore  o£E  and  threw  away  the  last  of  them,  on  my  June  tour  in  Maine,  when  the 
record  was  less  than  700  miles.  A  pair  of  low-cut,  machine-sewed  shoes,  the  cheapest  obtain- 
able ^$1.50),  were  the  first  ones  with  which  I  took  an  all-day  ride  (a  circuit  of  60  m.,  August  t6. 


WHITE  FLANNEL  AND  NICKEL  PLA  TE.  2 1 

1883  ) ;  and  the  experiment  proved  so  satisfactory  that  I  retained  them  pretty  continuously  in  my 
riding  until  November  7,  when  their  record  was  about  1,800  m.  Their  "  record,"  indeed,  was 
about  all  there  was  left  to  the  shoes,  when  I  kicked  them  off,  at  Binghamton,  that  Tuesday 
noon,  in  the  middle  of  a  hard  day's  journey  of  40  m.,  and  assumed  a  second  pair,  of  heavier 
build,  with  a  guard  or  flap  coming  well  above  the  ankle  and  secured  by  a  strap  and  buckle. 
These  were  also  priced  at  $1.50,  because  of  their  antiquated  and  unmarketable  style,  and  they 
served  me  satisfactorily  till  April  26, 1884  (if  x8o  m.)>— though  I  returned  to  boots  for  a  brief  sea- 
son, during  my  143  m.  of  riding  in  Bermuda.  My  third  pair  of  shoes  were  nearly  identical  with 
the  second  pair  in  style  and  price,  and  they  had  nearly  reached  the  end  of  their  usefulness  when 
I  took  my  last  ride  m  them,  December  34  (1,286m.)'  Perhaps  room,  should  be  deducted  from 
this  e^ht  months'  mileage,  as  representing  the  sum  of  the  short  rides  when  I  wore  my  ordinary 
walking-shoes;  for,  as  a  result  of  getting  accustomed  to  the  use  of  shoes  while  bicycling,  my  life- 
long prejudice  in  favor  of  boots,  for  ordinary  out-door  walking,  has  been  considerably  weakened 
After  this  extensive  experimentation  (4,000  m.  or  more)  with  three  pairs  of  cheap,  machine-sewed 
shoes,  I  shall  be  disposed  to  have  my  fourth  pair  specially  made,  of  the  best  material,  at  a  price 
perhaps  double  that  of  the  three  combined, — for  the  sake  of  comparing  the  ultimate  economies  of 
the  case.  My  a  prwri  objection  (p.  x8)  "  that  the  dust  and  sand  and  mud  would  work  their 
way  disagreeably  into  such  shoes,  on  long  tours  where  much  walking  had  to  be  done,"  has  been 
an  too  sadly  justified  by  experience ;  and  many  a  time,  during  the  past  three  years  of  touring, 
have  I  longed  for  the  presence  of  my  trusty  top-boots,  as  a  comfort  and  protection  in  calamitous 
cases  of  dust  and  sand  and  mud  and  water.  My  other  fear,  "  that  the  freezing  cold  air  would 
work  its  vray  disagreeably  through  such  stockings  on  wintry  days,"  has  proved  to  be  quite 
groundless,  however, — though  I  have  found  that  india-rubber  overshoes,  added  to  either  shoes  or 
boots,  are  quite  efficacious  in  ensuring  warmth  to  the  feet  when  one  indulges  in  winter  wheeling. 

A  pair  of  black  cashmere  stockings,  for  which  I  paid  $1,  served  for  800  m.  before  showing 
any  holes  in  the  heels;  and  I  then  supplemented  them  with  a  pair  of  heavier  woolen  ones, 
ribbed,  of  the  "Goetze"  manufacture,  which  was  for  a  while  widely  advertised.  Their  ma- 
terial was  said  to  be  ''  the  best  German  knitting  yam,"  and  as  the  desired  size  did  not  happen  to 
be  in  stock  when  I  called  at  the  shop,  they  were  run  through  the  knitting  machine  before  my 
very  eyes.  They  cost  $1.50,  and  I  assumed  them  at  the  outset  of  my  long  straightaway  tour  . 
from  Detroit ;  but  the  heels  wore  through  in  a  little  more  than  a  fortnight,  when  the  record  was 
800  m.,  or  just  the  same  as  that  of  the  less  expensive  pair.  With  various  darnings  and  patchings 
the  two  pairs  combined  served  me  for  3,500  m.  and,  as  I  have  since  had  new  feet  knit  to  the 
J"  Goetze  "  stockings,  whose  legs  showed  scarcely  any  signs  of  usage,  I  presume  they  will  serve 
me  for  another  1,000  m.,  at  least.  The  latest  500  m.  of  my  record  were  ridden  in  a  third  pair  of 
woolen  stockings  ($1.35 ),  having  black  legs  and  white  feet-^he  latter  device  being  a  good  one 
to  prevent  the  wearer's  feet  from  being  discolored  by  the  dye.  Cotton  stockings  cannot  be  made 
to  bold  their  colors,  no  matter  what  the  sellers  may  say ;  and  a  pair  of  black  ones  which  I  was 
once  forced  to  buy  ( 40c.  ),  as  a  makeshift  for  bicycling,  quickly  gave  a  sable  hue  to  my  drawers 
as  well  as  my  feet.  The  black  silk  stockings  which  I  bought  in  1882  (l3.7S)»  when  the  League 
pre  command  that  no  booted  rider  should  be  allowed  in  its  parade  at  Chicago,  still  stay  by  me,  in 
good  condition  after  considerable  usage  on  odd  occasions.  Their  lightness  recommends  them  for 
cairi;^^  on  a  tour,  as  a  part  of  one's  evening  costume,  to  be  worn  while  the  soiled  stockings 
and  other  garments  of  the  day's  riding  are  being  washed  and  dried.  Though  the  elasticity  of 
heavy  woolen  stockings  will  hold  them  in  place  when  new,  garters  soon  get  to  be  a  necessity. 
Bat,  as  they  are  apt  to  slip,  or  prove  otherwise  unsatisfactory  when  applied  directly  to  the  leg, 
I  bave  found  it  convenient  to  suspend  each  one  from  a  single  button,  sewn  on  the  inner  waist- 
band of  the  breeches  at  the  seam  opposite  the  hips. 

Experience  has  only  confirmed  my  first  liking  for  velveteen.    The  jacket  of  that 
1  boaght  in  '79,  and  which  is  likely  to  last  me  for  another  half-dozen  years  at  1( 
a  aD  sorts  of  weather  during  my  forty  days'  straightaway  ride  of  '83 ;  and  iftl 
ccSent  garment  for  use  on  the  deck  during  the  sea  voyages  that  were  coorf^ 
Sootia  and  Bermuda  explorations.    The  green  corduroy  breeches,  bou 


22  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

'8i,  lasted  me  to  the  end  of  my  long  ride  of  '83,  though  more  than  once  torn  to  shreds  in  the 
progress  of  it ;  and  I  still  retain  them  as  a  most  interesting  curiosity  of  tailor's  patchwork, — 
both  professional  and  amateur.  I  had  some  thoughts,  indeed,  of  proclaiming  them  by  public 
advertisement  as  a  memorial  prize,  to  be  awarded  the  club  most  largely  represented  on  the  sub- 
scription-list of  this  book,  and  to  be  kept  on  permanent  exhibition  as  a  trophy  in  its  chief  assem- 
bly-room. My  earlier  custom,  of  carrying  a  pair  of  long  trousers,  of  thin  material,  in  the  roll  on 
my  handle-bar,  was  adhered  to  by  me  very  generally  until  the  close  of  1883 ;  but  during  the  sea- 
son since  then  I  have  commonly  substituted  for  them  a  pair  of  green  velveteen  riding  breeches 
($8.50),  which  pack  quite  as  closely  and  prove  quite  as  satisfactory  for  evening  wear.  During 
that  season  also  I  usually  dispensed  entirely  with  the  tool-bag,  preferring  to  carry  wrench  and  oil- 
can in  pocket,  or  else  in  luggage-roll.  For  some  years  my  custom  has  been  to  inclose  the  latter 
in  a  piece  of  india-rubber  doth,  two  feet  square ;  and  this  cover  is  also  available  ais  a  protection  to 
the  carpet  of  one's  bed-room,  in  case  of  taking  a  sponge-bath,  at  the  end  of  the  day's  ride.  An 
india-rubber  drinking-tube— costing  half-a^^ent  an  inch,  and  carried  more  easily  than  a  cup — I 
have  found  to  be  a  convenient  device  for  use  at  brooks  and  springs ;  though  the  over-cautious 
may  prefer  to  pay  half-a-doUar  for  "  Corson's  tourist's  delight,"  which  has  a  filter  attached  to 
the  tube.  Needles  and  thread  have  more  than  once  repaid  the  slight  trouble  required  for  storage 
in  my  pocket  book ;  and  I  intend  on  my  next  tour  to  carry  a  little  lump  of  upholsterer's  "  curled 
hair,"  which  is  said  to  make,  when  combined  with  soap,  an  excellent  brush  for  scouring  the 
grease  and  grime  from  one's  hands.  The  recommended  superiority  of  a  sponge  to  a  handker- 
chief, for  wiping  the  perspiration  from  one's  face  on  a  hot  day,  has  not  seemed  justified  by  my  ex- 
perience, however.  The  ease  with  which  the  rim  of  a  nickeled  wheel  may  be  polished  by  simply 
holding  a  rag  against  it  while  riding,  would  appear  too  self-evident  to  be  worth  mentioning, — 
were  it  not  that  "  a  io,ooo-mile  man  "  assured  me  that  it  appealed  to  him  as  a  new  and  happy 
idea,  when  he  saw  me  resorting  to  it,  in  Washington,  last  May.  Another  well-known  fact,  that 
white  flannel  shrinks  more  rapidly  than  colored,  may  perhaps  be  useful  information  to  some. 
The  sight  of  an  "  M.  I.  P.  bag,"  or  any  other  such  clumsy  contrivance,  on  a  tourist's  bicy- 
cle, always  conveys  to  my  mind  the  idea  that  the  owner  is  a  novice  at  the  business ;  but  I  am 
bound  to  admit  that  some  men  of  wide  experience  on  the  road  do  retain  an  apparent  fondness 
.  for  these  same  bags.  I  suppose  it  must  be  because  they  lack  "  the  sense  of  order  and  proportion," 
which  is  the  natural  gift  of  men  who  can  put  a  roll  or  bundle  of  miscellaneous  articles  together' 
with  compactness  and  symmetry.  The  non-possessor  of  this  orderly  instinct  perhaps  does  need 
a  bag,  into  which  he  can  shovel  his  equipments  at  hap-hazard ;  but  it  certainly  seems  to  me  a 
terrible  infliction  to  have  one's  machine  thus  handicapped  with  an  ungainly  excrescence  which* 
takes  up  about  as  much  room  when  empty  as  when  full.  Far  better  than  this — for  those  whose 
love  of  coasting  causes  them  to  insist  upon  having  an  unencumbered  handle-bar — seems  '*  the  Z. 
&  S.  carrier"  ($2),  an  attachment  for  the  backbone,  alongside  of  which  it  can  be  folded  com- 
pactly, when  its  arms  are  not  needed  for  clutching  a  coat  or  bundle.  As  for  the  Wright  "  take- 
me-too  "  belt,  the  persistent  praises  which  were  given  to  it  in  my  hearing  by  an  old  army  man 
(whose  cycling  experiences  on  the  road  had  been  extensive,  and  whose  judgment  was  still  further 
recommended  to  me  by  his  hearty  approval  of  the  Lamson  carrier,  to  which  he  thought  the  belt 
a  satisfactory  supplement),  finally  overcame  my  prejudices,  and  I  bought  a  belt,  with  the  idea  of 
using  it  as  a  coat-carrier  on  my  1,400-mile  tour.  A  preliminary  trial  of  five  miles,  however,  was 
enough  to  confirm  my  worst  fears,  as  to  the  back-heating  possibilities,  and  all-around  discomfort, 
belonging  to  any  roll  or  bundle  attached  to  the  base  of  one's  spinal  column.  I  hate  a  belt  on 
general  principles,  and  I've  never  made  a  second  experiment  with  this  most  ingeniously  villain- 
ous specimen.  No  one  can  now  object  to  having  me  speak  my  mind  squarely  against  it,  for 
"  the  trade  "  long  since  discontinued  its  sale.  I  believe,  indeed,  that  the  veritable  belt  which  I 
bought  was  the  last  one  of  the  kind  ever  manufactured.  It  is,  without  doubt,  on  the  testimony 
of  several  unimpeachable  witnesses,  a  most  excellent  device — ^for  those  who  happen  to  fancy  it. 
If  such  a  one,  haply,  shall  read  my  words.  let  him  know  that  I  will  gladly  sell  the  belt  at  a  great 
reduction  on  its  original  cost.  I  paid  a  dollar  for  it,  but  the  first  man  who  remits  to  me  99  one- 
cent  stamps  shall  receive  the  hated  spedmen,  by  earliest  return  mail,  postage  prepaid. 


IV. 
A  BIRTHDAY  FANTASIE.» 

Argument. — **  Three  wise  men  of  Gotham  went  to  sea  on  their  wheels ;  and  if  those  wheels 
had  been  stronger,  this  lay  had  been  longer."  Kron,  while  taking  a  solitary,  Christmas-eve 
cruise  on  his  stanch  yacht,  **  The  Bull  Dorg,"  in  search  of  the  Golden  Fleas,  amid  the  glittering 
wastes  of  the  Paleocrystic  Sea,  meets  wiih  the  goblin  trio  aforesaid,  at  the  exact  geographical 
point  revealed  to  him  in  a  vision  by  the  nautical  symbols,  "  G.  B.  V.  4.  5.  6."  The  following  con- 
versation then  takes  place  : 

Cyclers  three  !     What  men  be  ye  ? 

Gotham's  brave  club-mto  we  be. 
Whither  on  your  wheels  so  free  ? 

To  rake  the  moon  out  of  the  sea. 
Our  wheels  go  trim.     The  moon  doth  shine. 
*T  is  but  a  wheel.     It  shall  be  thine. 
The  moorCs  a  wheel  which  shall  be  mine  ! 

Who  art  thou,  so  hard  adrift  ? 

lam  he  they  call  Kol  Kron, 
On  this  moon  we  will  thee  lift. 

No  I    I  may  not  mount  thereon. 
Wherefore  so  ?     ^T  is  Jove's  decree : 
**  On  a  wheel  plough  not  the  sea  I 
With  a  wheel  vex  not  the  scaP^ 

E'en  ashore  I  could  not  ride, 

For  the  moon's  a  sixty-inch. 
Fifty  inches  I  may  stride , 

But  from  sixty,  sure,  I  flinch. 
Fudge  I    Get  on  I    *T  will  play  no  tricks  I 
JVo  !    I  drive  a  forty-six, — 
I  was  bom  in  '46. 

Strange  cU  sea  to  meet  such  keels  I 
How  with  water  can  they  cope  ? 
T  is  magician  floats  the  wheels, — 

The  Infallible,  the  Pope  1 
Your  wheels  go  trim.     The  moon  doth  shine. 
Now  let  "  The  Bull  Dorg"  cleave  the  brine. 
Just  go  your  way,  and  I'll  go  mine. 
Washington  Square,  Dec.  34,  1880. 


1  An  imitation  of  "  Drinking  Catch,"  by  Thomas  Love  Peacock.    Written  by  request  for 
special  midwinter  number  of  Tht  Bicycling  World,  January  14,  188 1,  p.  153. 


V. 

FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX.^ 

Six  thousand  miles  would  make,  if  extended  in  a  straight  line,  quite  a  re- 
spectable section  of  the  earth's  circumference ;  and  the  career  of  the  bicycle 
which  I  have  driven  that  distance  during  the  past  three  years  and  a  half  has 
perhaps  been  quite  respectable  enough  to  deserve  a  formal  description.  The 
beginning  of  this  career  was  made  on  the  Belgian  block  pavement,  at  the  north- 
east comer  of  Washington  Square,  at  about  ten  minutes  past  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  of  Thursday,  May  29, 1879.  It  was  a  surprisingly  short  beginning 
on  six  thousand  miles,  however,  for  the  wheel  came  to  a  standstill  as  soon  as  I 
had  got  into  the  saddle ;  and,  in  my  ignorance  of  the  "  standstill  feat,"  and 
of  the  proper  way  of  using  my  own  feet  for  a  quick  dismount,  I  forthwith 
reached  out  for  the  nearest  paving-stone  with  my  left  elbow,  and  secured  a 
dislocation  of  the  bones  thereof.  While  waiting  to  have  them  pulled  together 
again  by  a  surgeon,  whose  office  fortunately  happened  to  be  adjacent,  I  in- 
sisted, between  my  groans,  that  a  telegram  should  be  at  once  sent  to  the  Pope 
Manufacturing  Company,  inquiring  if  a  nickel-plated  cyclometer  could  be  sea- 
sonably prepared  for  me,  so  that  my  second  ride  might  be  more  accurately 
measured.  This  remark,  coming  subsequently  to  the  ears  of  the  Captain  of 
the  New  York  Bicycle  Club,  seemed  to  him  so  creditable  that  he  vowed  the 
anniversary  of  it  should  be  duly  celebrated  by  a  general  parade  of  American 
bicyclers.  Hence  the  memorable  mustering  of  the  clans  at  Newport,  on  the 
29th  of  May,  1880,  and  the  formation  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen, 
with  officers  to  summon  a  similar  gathering  on  each  return  of  that  day. 

I  am  driven  to  make  public  this  fragment  of  ancient  history — ^not  to  say 
secret  and  unsuspected  history — by  the  remark  of  a  writer  in  the  November 
Wheelman^  who,  while  giving  due  credit  for  my  manifestations  of  interest  in, 
and  friendliness  towards,  the  League,  speaks  deprecatingly  of  my  failure  to 
become  a  member  thereof.  He  will  now  realize  that  I  could  not  with  pro- 
priety act  otherwise.  My  position  is  much  like  that  of  the  King  of  France 
who  said,  Pitat  c*est  moi.  In  a  certain  sense  "  the  League  is  myself  " ;  and  the 
mere  fact  that  I  elbowed  it  into  existence  leads  me  to  insist,  like  Uncle  Remus, 
that  "  Ts  bleezd  to  have  elbow-room"  outside  it.  I  am  such  a. very  modest 
man,  furthermore,  that  the  pomp  and  pageantry  of  three  annual  meets 
seem  already  to  have  commemorated  with  sufficient  impressiveness  the  date 
of  so  slight  a  display  of  fortitude.  Hence  my  printed  argument  of  last  winter 
in  favor  of  making  the  date  of  the  meet  a  changeable  one,  so  that  it  might  be 

^From  Thi  IVAftlmam,  February,  1883,  pp.  368-375. 


FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX.  25 

• 

adapted  to  the  climate  of  the  locality  chosen.  I  urged,  for  example,  that 
Washington's  birthday,  1883,  would  be  a  good  time  for  the  fourth  annual 
meet,  in  case  the  city  of  Washington  should  be  chosen  as  the  place  of  it.  As 
for  the  29th  of  May,  it  is  enough  for  me,  being  a  modest  man,  that  Mother 
Nature  should  always  send  then  a  gentle  shower  of  rain, — should,  as  it  were, 
bedew  the  earth  with  her  tears, — in  kindly  remembrance  of  my  first  mis- 
fortune. 

I  am  not  unaware  that  a  few  envious  and  light-minded  persons  have  given 
acceptance  to  the  theory  that  the  President  of  the  Boston  Bicycle  Club  de- 
vised the  League,  in  order  to  honor  a  certain  lawyer  of  that  city,  who,  on  the  * 
29th  of  May,  1877,  made  the  "test  case  "  at  the  Boston  Custom  House,  which 
forced  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  to  classify  the  bicycle  as  "  a  carriage  " 
(duty  35  per  cent),  rather  than  "  a  machine  "  (duty  45  per  cent.).  I  men- 
tion this  theory  only  that  I  may  expose  it  to  the  scorn  and  derision  of  all  true 
bicyclers.  It  is  merely  one  more  illustration  of  the  petty  jealousy  which  "the 
hub  "  feels  for  "  the  metropolis," — one  more  attempt  to  honor  Harvard  at  the 
expense  of  Yale,^-one  more  effort  to  exalt  a  '68  graduate  above  a  graduate 
of  '69.  The  natural  prejudice  which  the  first  President  of  the  League  would 
have  for  Harvard  and  *68,  by  virtue  of  being  himself  a  *70-man  at  Haverford 
College  (which  the  intelligent  compositor  usually  transforms  into  "Har- 
vard 'Of  explains  his  nefarious  attempt  to  pervert  the  facts  of  history.  Modest 
man  that  I  am,  I  will  not  tamely  consent  to  be  robbed  of  the  greatness  which 
has  been  thrust  upon  me.  I  do  not  want  to  be  oppressed  with  the  burden  of 
carrying  any  more  of  it.  I  am  anxious  to  have  the  League  choose  some  other 
day  than  the  29th  of  May,  for  the  annual  blowing  of  its  bugle.  But  I  must 
insist  that  whatever  degree  of  celebrity  may  attach  to  that  particular  date,  in 
the  history  of  American  bicycling,  is  due  not  to  a  bit  of  legal  quibbling  in  the 
Boston  Custom  House,  but  to  the  extremely  practical  "test  case,"  made  by 
my  left  elbow  with  that  fateful  bit  of  Belgian  pavement  lying  at  the  northeast 
comer  of  Washington  Square. 

Two  months  and  more  before  making  this  test,  I  had  corresponded  with 
the  Pope  Manufacturing  Company,  recommending  them  to  open  a  rink  in 
Xew  York,  in  order  that  I  might,  without  leaving  the  city,  "  have  a  chance  to 
see  if  I  could  learn  how  to  ride."  But  even  the  prospective  honor  of  selling 
me  a  wheel  failed  to  induce  them  to  grant  my  modest  request,  and  so  I  was 
forced  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  their  warehouse  in  Boston.  There,  on  the  last 
Friday  afternoon  of  March,  1879,  ^  made  my  first  experimental  mount,  and  found 
that  my  experiences  with  the  bone-shaker  of  '69,  though  forgotten  for  a  decade, 
stood  me  in  good  stead.  Command  of  the  new-fashioned  wheel  was  gained 
by  me  very  quickly,  and,  after  an  hour's  practice,  I  felt  quite  competent  to  * 
"take  to  the  road."  Of  course  I  bought  a  bicycle,  and  was  consumed  with 
impatience  when  the  specified  "  two  weeks  "  lengthened  into  two  months  be- 
fore its  arrival.  My  order,  that  it  be  sent  to  meet  me  on  the  smooth  pave% 
ment  at  Harlem  Bridge,  was  mailed  just  too  late  to  prevent  its  shipment  from 


26  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Hartford  to  the  stony  region  of  Washington  Square.  The  saddle,  moreover, 
for  convenience  in  packing,  had  been  screwed  up  close  to  the  head,  so  that, 
even  if  my  first  ride  had  been  attempted  on  a  smooth  road,  I  should  inevitably 
have  tumbled,  and  kept  tumbling  till  I  "  tumbled  to  "  the  idea  that  the  saddle 
must  be  set  further  back. 

Six  weeks  from  the  day  of  my  sudden  demonstration  that  "  the  successor 
of  the  bone-shaker  "  might  become  a  bone-breaker,  I  trundled  it  out  for  a  sec- 
ond trial,  and  practiced  step-riding  for  an  hoiu:  or  so  on  the  concrete  walks  of 
the  Square.    A  week  later,  on  my  third  trial,  I  ventured  to  slide  into  the  sad- 

'  die  again,  but  its  advanced  position  and  my  own  impaired  confidence  com- 
bined to  make  my  visits  there  very  short  ones.  The  next  day,  however,  I 
got  the  seat  properly  adjusted,  and,  after  a  few  helps  at  mounting  and  dis- 
mounting, found  I  could  once  more  trust  myself  to  "  go  it  alone,"  on  a  smooth 
wooden  floor.  My  first  road-ride  was  taken  the  following  evening,  Tuesday, 
July  22,  on  the  Boulevard,  where,  in  the  course  of  two  hours,  I  made  six 
mounts,  and  covered  four  miles  of  space,  with  only  one  slight  fall.  The  exer- 
cise was  terribly  tiresome  and  surprisingly  sweaty  while  it  lasted,  but  no 
weariness  or  stiffness  resulted  as  a  sequel  to  it.  Before  the  next  month 
closed  I  had  taken  eleven  other  rides  and  accomplished  125  miles,  thereby 
exploring  pretty  thoroughly  the  roads  of  the  New  York  region,  of  which  I  sent 
a  minute  description  to  the  American  Bicycling  Journal  for  October.  My 
longest  day's  record  was  twenty-one  miles,  made  on  August  5,  when  I  went  to 
Yonkers,  where  an  importunate  reporter  tried  to  discover  my  name  for  publi- 
cation in  the  local  paper,  and  where  an  equally  uncivil  dog  tried  to  thrust  his 
teeth  through  the  leather  of  my  boot-leg.  The  thermometer  stood  well  up 
among  the  nineties,  that  day,  and  the  hot  weather  which  prevailed  during  all 
my  rides  of  that  month  perhaps  explained  why  I  never  once  sighted  any 
wheelmen.     I  suppose  there  were  then  about  a  dozen  of  them  in  New  York. 

My  log  of  distances,  traversed  up  to  this  time,  had  been  laboriously  com- 
piled by  using  the  county  atlas,  inasmuch  as  my  agonizing  appeal  to  the 
Popes  for  a  cyclometer  that  should  be  nickel-plated,  had  been  quite  in  vain. 
On  the  first  day  of  September,  however,  when  I  began  to  do  some  riding  in 
Massachusetts,  I  reconciled  my  conscience  to  the  belief  that  one  of  their 
ordinary  cyclometers,  even  without  any  nickel-plating  to  ensure  its  accuracy, 
was  better  than  nothing,  and  so  I  attached  to  my  axle  the  little  round  brass 
box  which  has  registered  the  miles  for  me  ever  since.  My  first  "  over-night 
excursion"  began  September  9,  when  I  started  from  Springfield  with  the  idea 
of  propelling  myself  to  Boston,  100  miles,  and  there,  perhaps,  taking  part  in 
"A  Wheel  Around  the  Hub,"  for  which  an  invitation  had  reached  me,  though 

'  the  exact  time  of  starting  had  been  left  undecided.  Adopting  the  mistakei 
theory  of  a  railroad  man,  that  the  highway  supplied  softer  and  more  diflicul 
riding  than  the  space  between  the  tracks,  I  clung  to  the  latter  all  day,  an< 

.  only  accomplished  22  miles,  ending  at  West  Brimfield,  where  the  rain  put  a; 
entire  stop  to  my  very  slow  progress.     On  the  morning  of  the  nth  I  too' 


FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX, 


27 


train  to  Worcester,  and  there  learned  that  the  Boston  riders  had  decided  on 
the  nth  and  12th  as  the  days  for  their  excursion.  I  was  thus  too  late  to  be 
with  them  at  the  start,  but,  by  resuming  my  train,  I  might  have  overtaken 

them — possibly  at  Readville,  probably  at  Canton,  or  certainly  at  Sharon, 

and  thus  participated  in  the  larger  part  of  the  journey.  I  afterwards  greatly 
regretted  that  I  failed  to  do  this,  especially  as  in  wheeling  eastward  from 
Worcester  I  went  astray  over  bad  and  hilly  roads  and  occupied  nine  hours  in 
covering  24  miles,  a  third  of  which  I  walked.  The  next  day  I  rode  in  from 
South  Framingham  to  Boston,  over  the  well-known  track;  and  while  circling 
about  there  in  the  early  evening,  in  the  region  of  Trinity  Square,  I  observed 
numerous  dusty  bicyclers  who  seemed  to  be  homeward  bound,  and  who,  I 
doubt  not,  were  some  of  the  men  whose  comrade  I  ought  to  have  been  in  the 
"  Wheel  Around  the  Hub.*'  I  eyed  them  curiously,  for  this  was  the  first 
chance  I  had  ever  had  of  seeing  any  bicycling.  I  devoted  a  good  part  of 
Saturday  to  exploring  the  enchanting  environs  of  the  city,  and  then  took 
train  back  to  Springfield,  with  a  record  of  104  miles  for  the  four  days.  On 
the  17th  of  September  I  rode  southward  to  Hartford,  33  miles,  and  five  days 
later  the  same  distance  northward  to  Greenfield.  These  were  the  two  longest 
day's  rides  of  the  year ;  and  the  longest  ride  on  two  successive  days  was  62 
miles,  beginning  at  New  Haven  and  ending  at  a  railroad  station  about  eight 
miles  from  Harlem  Bridge.  This  was  on  the  loth  and  nth  of  November, 
and  a  fortnight  later  I  devoted  an  afternoon  and  a  forenoon  to  my  first  trip 
to  Tarrytown  and  back, — ^48  miles.  An  October  trip  of  similar  duration  to 
Orange  and  back  measured  40  miles.  Most  of  the  rest  of  my  riding  was  on 
the  roads  which  I  had  first  explored  in  August,  though  I  made  several  visits 
to  Brooklyn  and  Prospect  Park,  and  I  finished  there  my  wheeling  of  the  year, 
on  the  i6th  of  December,  when  I  took  a  20-mile  trip  to  Coney  Island. 

My  entire  riding  for  1879  amounted  to  742  miles,  being  an  average  of  about 
16}  miles  for  each  one  of  the  47  days  when  I  mounted  the  wheel ;  and  up- 
wards of  600  miles  were  accredited  to  the  last  four  months  of  the  year.  The 
length  of  track  traversed  by  me  for  the  first  time  amounted  to  at  least  330 
miles;  and  if  130  miles  be  added  to  this  to  represent  that  part  of  it  which  I 
traversed  a  second  time  but  in  an  opposite  direction,  my  "new"  riding 
amounted  to  460  miles,  leaving  only  282  miles  to  represent  the  repetitions  in 
the  year's  record.  Reports  and  descriptions  of  most  of  these  roads  were 
printed  by  me  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Bicycling  Worlds  1880,  as  follows: 
April  3,  p.  163;  April  17,  p.  178;  May  i,  p.  199;  May  15,  p.  219;  May  29,  p. 
234 ;  June  12,  p.  256.  Later  references  to  my  road-reports  in  that  periodical 
will  be  enclosed  in  brackets  with  the  initials  B.  W, 

My  wheeling  in  1880  extended  through  a  period  of  eight  months,  from 
April  19  to  December  16,  and  amounted  to  1,474^  miles,  or  an  average  of 
about  26J  miles  for  each  of  the  fifty-eight  days  I  rpde.  The  shortest  record 
was  3J  miles,  the  longest  was  73,  and  there  were  nine  other  days  when  I  rode 
40  miles  or  more.    My  first  50-mile  ride  was  on  the  4th  of  May,  when  I  made 


28  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

the  round  trip  to  Tarrytown,  and  added  seven  miles  of  riding  on  the  Boule- 
vard by  gas-light,  to  complete  the  distance.  \B.  W^  Aug.  7,  p.  331.]  This 
was  also  my  first  experience  of  that  sort  of  night-riding;  and  I  may  as  well 
say  here  that  I  have  never  made  use  of  a  lantern.  On  the  first  day  of  sum- 
mer, I  rode  from  Taunton  to  Boston,  40  miles,  as  one  of  a  party  of  six  return- 
ing from  the  meet  at  Newport ;  a  week  later,  from  Hartford  to  Springfield, 
35  miles ;  and  two  days  afterwards,  from  Hartford  to  Meriden,  30  miles. 
\B.  IV.,  Nov.  19,  p.  27.]  Between  the  9th  and  13th  of  July  I  rode  131  miles  on 
Long  Island,  between  Greenport  and  Hunter's  Point,  and  on  the  3d  of  August 
tried  another  route  there  of  25  miles,  from  Cold  Spring  Harbor  to  Astoria. 
[B.  fV.y  Nov.  26,  p.  37.]  My  third  round  trip  to  Tarrytown,  43  miles,  was 
taken  August  17.  After  this,  between  the  6th  and  24th  of  September,  c^une 
the  longest  tour  of  my  four  seasons'  record,  for  it  amounted  to  495  miles,  and 
included  sections  of  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  Canada. 
IB.  W.,  1881,  May  27,  p.  27 ;  June  3,  p.  44 ;  June  10^  p.  56;  June  17,  p.  64.] 
As  my  riding  was  confined  to  fifteen  days,  the  average  for  each  was  33  miles, 
the  shortest  record  being  that  of  my  incursion  into  Canada,  September  15,  in 
the  region  of  Niagara  Falls.  Before  this  I  had  spent  four  days  along  the 
Erie  Canal,  mostly  on  the  tow-path,  between  Schenectady  and  Oneida,  no 
miles,  and  ridden  for  two  days,  32  miles,  in  the  region  of  Canandaigua,  where 
I  was  visiting  a  friend.  From  Niagara  I  rode  38  miles  to  a  farmer's  house 
16  miles  beyond  Buffalo ;  thence  73  miles  to  Erie;  thence  45  miles  to  Ashta- 
bula, making  in  all  156  miles,  which  distance  still  remains  my  best  record  for 
three  successive  days.  The  swiftest  and  pleasantest  ride  of  the  tour  was  had 
in  returning  on  the  same  track  from  Erie  to  Dunkirk,  47  miles,  in  seven  and 
a  half  hours,  including  two  hours  out  of  the  saddle.  The  next  afternoon  and 
evening  five  hours  were  spent  in  getting  over  the  17  miles  between  Bingham- 
ton  and  Great  Bend.  Then  came  a  continuous  ride  of  three  davs,  from  Port 
Jervis  to  the  Delaware  Water  Gap  and  across  the  Jersey  hills  homeward  to 
Washington  Square,  the  distance  being  125  miles,  of  which  the  last  day 
claimed  53.  My  estimate  of  new  track  traversed  in  1880  is  700  miles,  and  of 
old  track  traversed  in  a  new  direction  100  miles,  leaving  674  to  represent  the 
repetitions  of  the  year. 

February  and  July  were  the  only  two  months  of  1881  that  claimed  none 
of  the  67  days  in  which  I  wheeled  1,956  miles,— an  average  of  29i,--though 
January  saw  me  mounted  only  once,  when  I  indulged  in  the  novelty  of  push- 
ing myself  a  half-dozen  miles  over  the  beaten  snow,  among  the  sleigh-riders 
of  the  Boulevard.  My  next  ride,  and  the  shortest  of  the  year,  was  on  the  ist 
of  March,  a  mile  and  a  half,  from  the  railroad  station  to  my  friend's  house  in 
Washington.  Four  days  afterwards,  in  the  same  city,  I  took  my  longest  ride 
of  the  year,  66J  miles,  in  spite  of  having  broken  off  one  of  my  handles  the  day 
before,  and  thereby  ruined  all  chance  of  "beating  my  best  record  "  (73  miles), 
and  perhaps  even  making  loo  miles.  On  the  22d  of  April  I  explored  Staten 
Island  to  the  extent  of  23  miles,  and  then  went  17  miles  further,  through 


mc-s  :f.^  ■.',.',  ■  „„  ^  /,,/,/,    ,-. 


iitnrday  ijt  Mar,  :    .rnn  .  ■ 


30 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


year,  I  took  my  last  ride  and  one  of  my  longest  ones,  6oJ  miles.  My  estimate 
of  new  track 'traversed  in  1881  is  750  miles,  and  of  old  track  traversed  in  a 
new  direction,  210  miles,  leaving  about  1,000  miles  to  represent  the  repetitions 
of  the  year. 

My  riding  of  1882,  as  comprised  between  April  19  and  November  29, 
amounted  to  1,827^  miles,  or  an  average  of  rather  more  than  33 J  miles  for 
each  of  56  riding  days.  I  celebrated  May  Day  by  a  ride  of  45  miles,  from 
Orange  to  Morristown  and  back,  and  three  days  later  accomplished  41  miles, 
including  a  ride  from  Orange  to  Little  Falls,  Pompton,  and  Paterson,  which  I 
afterwards  extended  to  Hackensack,  Ridgefield,  and  Fort  Lee.  On  the  after- 
noon of  the  loth  I  made  the  Tarrytown  trip  again,  42  miles ;  and  on  the  fore- 
noon of  the  26th  rode  up  there,  crossed  the  river  to  Nyack,  and  came  down  the 
west  side  of  the  river,  through  Tappan  and  Englewood  to  Jersey  City,  51  miles. 
During  the  last  three  days  of  the  month,  I  rode  75  miles  in  the  streets  and  parks 
of  Chicago ;  and  on  the  first  morning  of  summer  began  at  Covington  a  tour 
of  340  miles  among  the  hills  of  Kentucky,  finishing  at  Maysville  on  the  9th. 
The  miles  recorded  on  the  successive  days  were  as  follows  :  39,  61,  33,  43, 
31,  o,  52,  42,  39, — the  blank  record  signifying  the  day  devoted  to  visiting  the 
Mammoth  Cave.  The  January  Wfuelman  contained  a  detailed  report  of  my 
autumn  tour  of  400  miles,  beginning  at  Utica  on  the  20th  of  September,  and 
extending  through  Trenton  Falls,  Syracuse,  Canandaigua,  Avon  Springs. 
Portage,  the  Genesee  Valley,  Hornellsville,  and  Corning,  to  Waverly  (330 
miles),  and  then  Towanda,  Pittson,  Wilkesbarre,  and  Newark,  where  the  end 
was  made  October  12.  In  the  interval  of  a  quarter-year  and  more,  which 
elapsed  between  these  two  tours,  there  were  only  three  days  when  I  mounted 
my  wheel :  I  rode  from  Hartford  to  Cheshire,  28  miles,  July  18,  and  next 
day  rode  25  more,  in  the  region  of  New  Haven  and  Branford;  and  on  the 
15th  of  September  I  rode  28  miles  on  Staten  Island.  On  the  27th  of  Octo- 
ber I  made  a  round  trip  of  31  miles,  from  Philadelphia  to  a  point  beyond 
Wayne.  My  next  trial  of  a  "new  road"  was  made  November  13,  when  I 
went  from  Newark  along  Springfield  avenue  to  Short  Hills,  Madison,  and 
Morristown  and  back,  44  miles. 

My  final  tour  of  the  year  began  November  21,  when  I  rode  from  Harlem 
Bridge  to  Bridgeport,  55J  miles.  The  next  forenoon  I  rode  to  New  Haven, 
19  miles.  The  third  day  I  proceeded  through  Cheshire  to  Hartford,  43  miles ; 
and  the  fourth,  I  finished  at  West  Springfield,  31  miles.  At  6  o'clock  in  the 
morning  of  Wednesday,  November  29,  exactly  three  and  a  half  years  from  the 
day  when  I  first  mounted  my  wheel,  I  was  warned  that  a  new  snow-storm  had 
just  begun,  and  that  if  I  intended  to  work  off  the  last  23  miles  needed  to  com- 
plete the  record  of  6,000,  I  had  best  make  a  prompt  beginning.  I  finished 
my  task  in  Springfield,  at  half-past  ten  o'clock,  and  then  sought  breakfast 
with  an  appetite  well-sharpened  by  a  four  hours'  struggle  through  the  blind- 
ing snow.  The  air  was  cold  enough  to  freeze  my  moustache  into  a  solid  lump, 
and  hence  gave  the  snow  no  chance  to  grow  damp  and  slippery.    Thanks  to 


FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX, 


31 


the  tight  clutch  kept  by  me  on  the  handles,  my  wheel,  though  it  had  two  or 
three  dangerous  slips,  never  fell. 

My  new  track,  in  1882,  was  820  miles  long,  and  my  old  track,  ridden  in  a 
new  direction,  was  180  miles,  leaving  828  miles  of  repetitions.  Combining 
with  these  the  similar  estimates  already  given  for  the  three  previous  seasons, 
the  following  result  appears:  Of  the  6,000  miles  through  which  I  have 
pushed  my  46-inch  Columbia  bicycle,  "  No.  234,"  2,600  miles  were  on  roads 
that  my  wheel  had  never  before  traversed,  and  620  miles  were  on  roads  that 
it  had  never  before  traversed  in  the  same  direction.  In  other  words,  I  have 
had  3,220  miles  of  practically  "  new  "  riding,  as  against  2,780  miles  on  paths 
previously  gone  over.  I  believe  there  are  quite  a  number  of  Americans  who 
have  wheeled  themselves  6,000  miles  or  more  (though  I  have  yet  to  be  told  of 
one  who  has  done  that  distance  on  a  single  machine) ;  but  to  the  best  of  my 
knowledge  I  am  the  only  man  who  has  practiced  bicycling  on  2,600  distinct 
miles  of  American  roads.  The  period  described  has  comprised  1,280  days, 
and,  as  I  have  mounted  the  wheel  on  228  of  these,  my  "  average  ride  "  has 
been  a  trifle  less  than  26)^  miles.  The  average  has  constantly  increased, 
however,  as  is  shown  by  comparing  the  figures  of  the  four  seasons  in  succes- 
sion :  16J,  26 J,  29i,  33 J.  The  "  days "  and  "  miles  "  may  be  grouped  to- 
gether as  follows:  1879,  47  ^^^  742;  1880,  58  and  1474};  1881,  67  and 
1,956;  1882,  56  and  1,827^. 

I  have  driven  my  wheel  in  the  fifteen  following  States :  Maine,  New 
Hampshire,  Vermont,  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut,  New  York, 
New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  Virginia,  West  Virginia,  Kentucky, 
Ohio,  and  Illinois ;  and  I  have  accompanied  it  on  railroad  trains  in  all  but  the 
first-named  State,  and  also  in  Delaware  and  Indiana.  The  miles  we  have 
traveled  together  by  trains  are  indicated  by  the  numerals  in  the  following 
chronological  list  of  our  trips:  West  Brimfield  to  Worcester,  35 ;  Newton  to 
Springfield,  91 ;  Hartford  to  Springfield,  26;  Chicopee  to  Northampton,  14; 
Greenfield  to  Holyoke,  28 ;  Bartow  to  Harlem,  8;  Newport  to  Taunton,  34; 
Brighton  to  Boston,  5;  Boston  to  Springfield,  99;  Springfield  to  Chicopee 
and  back,  7 ;  Springfield  to  Hartford,  26;  Meriden  to  New  Haven,  18;  River- 
head  to  Yaphank,  15;  Oneida  to  Canandaigua,  100;  Canandaigua  to  Niagara, 
105 ;  Ashtabula  to  Erie,  41 ;  Dunkirk  to  Binghamton,  245 ;  Great  Bend  to 
Port  Jervis,  113;  New  York  to  Washington  and  back,  456;  Tarrytown  to 
Poughkeepsie,  45;  Poughkeepsie  to  New  York,  73;  Fall  River  to  Boston,  49; 
Rowley  to  Portsmouth,  26;  Salem  to  Boston,  16;  Smith's  Ferry  to  North 
Hatfield,  11  ;  Bernardston  to  Hartford,  67;  Hayden's  to  Springfield,  17; 
Smith's  Ferry  to  North  Hatfield,  11 ;  Bellows  Falls  to  Rutland,  53;  Flushing 
to  Hunter's  Point,  7 ;  New  York  to  Baltimore,  186 ;  Baltimore  to  Frederick, 
66;  Cumiberland  to  Harper's  Ferry,  97;  Washington  to  New  York,  228; 
Newark  to  New  York,  7 ;  New  York  to  Washington  «nd  Chicago,  1,041 ; 
Chicago  to  Cincinnati,  310 ;  Williamstown  to  SftdiljrfHjUftfc  U|KtQn  to  Cave 
City,  26;  Cave  City  to  Louisville,  85;  CiiCfl{iMI^^HPIip'Si,,j4^  Albany 


32  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  Utica,  95 ;  Oneida  to  Syracuse,  25 ;  Waverly  to  Towanda,  18 ;  Meshoppen 
to  Pittston,  38 ;  Wilkesbarre  to  Newark,  172 ;  Newark  to  Philadelphia  and 
back,  162. 

In  addition  to  the  above  indicated  4,414  miles  by  rail,  I  have  accompanied 
my  wheel  1,044  miles  on  steamboats,  as  follows:  New  York  to  Pleasant 
Valley,  6;  New  York  to  New  Haven,  75;  Harlem  to  Fulton  ferry  (twice), 
15;  New  York  to  Newport,  160^  New  York  to  New  London,  120;  New  Lon- 
don to  Grecnport,  15;  Battery  to  Vanderbilt's  Landing,  10;  New  York  to 
Fall  River,  175;  Hulett's  Landing  to  Baldwin's  and  thence  to  Caldwell  (Lake 
George),  40;  Hudson  to  New  York,  115;  New  York  to  Flushing,  15;  New 
York  to  Poughkeepsie,  75;  Fulton  ferry  to  Harlem,  8;  Maysville  to  Cincin- 
nati, 60;  New  Haven  to  New  York,  75;  Battery  to  Tompkinsville.  10;  New 
Brighton  to  Battery,  10;  Harlem  to  Astoria  and  back,  6;  Hoboken  to  Brook- 
lyn, 3;  Tarrytown  to  Nyack,  3 ;  Fort  Lee  to  Manhattanville  (three  times),  5; 
Hunter's  Point  to  Seventh  street  (twice),  5;  Hoboken  ferry,  six  times;  Wee- 
hawken  ferry,  six  times;  Pavonia  ferry,  twice;  Communipaw  ferry,  twice; 
Jersey  City  ferry,  twice;  Wall  street  ferry,  eighteen  times;  Fulton  ferry,  once; 
Grand  street  ferry,  once.  These  thirty-eight  ferry  passages  probably  amounted 
to  as  many  miles  altogether. 

Canal-boat  rides  of  four  miles  on  the  Erie,  and  ten  miles  on  the  Chesa- 
peake and  Ohio  may  be  added ;  and  row-boat  transportation  has  been  given 
my  wheel  from  Staten  Island  to  Elizabethport,  twice  across  the  Mohawk  at 
Hoffman's  Ferry,  once  across  the  Connecticut  at  Thompsonville,  and  once 
across  the  outlet  of  Lake  Champlain  at  Chubb's  Ferry, — perhaps  three  miles 
in  all.  I  have  escorted  it  on  horse-cars  twice  down  the  east  side  of  the  city, 
from  Fourteenth  street  to  Wall,  and  once  on  the  same  route  upwards ;  five 

a 

times  down  the  west  side  from  Fifty-ninth  street  to  the  ferries  at  Liberty, 
Chambers,  Desbrosses,  Canal,  and  Christopher  streets  respectively ;  and  once 
from  One  Hundred  and  Eighteenth  to  Fifty-ninth, — a  distance  of  perhaps  40 
miles  altogether.  On  three  occasions  I  have  ridden  with  it  in  a  wagon,  about 
20  miles,  and  I  suppose  it  has  been  similarly  carried  a  similar  distance  when 
I  have  not  been  in  attendance.  Its  solitary  tours,  when  caged  in  a  crate  and 
packed  like  ordinary  merchandise  into  freight  or  express  car,  have  numbered 
half-a-dozen  and  amounted  to  about  i»6oo  miles,  as  follows  :  Hartford  to  New 
York  and  back,  220 ;  New  York  to  Springfield  and  back,  272 ;  Hartford  to 
Schenectady,  140;  Cincinnati  to  Hartford,  972. 

Most  of  the  distances  by  train  have  been  given  on  the  authority  of  the 
railroad  guides,  but  I  have  been  obliged  to  "  estimate  "  a  few  of  them,  and 
have  felt  uncertain  in  one  or  two  cases  concerning  the  actual  route  chosen 
between  distant  points  which  are  connected  by  competing  lines  of  quite 
unequal  lengths.  Some  of  my  steamboat  distances  have  been  guessed  at  from 
my  knowledge  of  the  distances  on  shore.  In  no  instance,  however,  have  I 
knowingly  exaggerated,  and  I  am  sure  that  the  sum  of  my  estimates  falls  short 
of,  rather  than  exceeds,  the  actual  distance.    I  may  also  add  here  a  word  of 


FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX, 


33 


caution  against  the  too  literal  acceptance  of  my  cyclometer  reports  as  repre- 
senting the  exact  distance  between  the  chief  points  that  are  named  in  a  day*s 
ran,  as  if  the  whole  of  it  were  included  between  them ;  for,  of  course,  the 
figures  in  reality  often  cover  many  detours  and  much  extra  riding,  which  can* 
not  be  specially  explained  in  such  a  general  summary. 

The  total  distance  which  the  record  says  I  have  been  carried  in  com- 
pany with  my  wheel  (5,535  miles)  lacks  only  465  of  the  6,000  miles  which  I 
have  personally  pushed  it;  but  the  sum  of  the  distances  which  I  have  traveled 
on  account  of  my  wheel,  when  not  with  it,  is  also  quite  a  respectable  one. 
My  original  journey  to  Boston  to  negotiate  for  its  manufacture  was  450  miles 
long ;  and  other  special  rides  may  be  named  as  follows  :  Cincinnati  to  New 
York,  882 ;  Springfield  to  Schenectady,  118;  Syracuse  to  Canandaigua  and 
back,  150;  Yaphank  to  Greenport  and  back,  75;  Paterson  to  New  York  and 
back,  32 ;  Thompsonville  to  Springfield  and  back,  18 ;  twenty  rides  between 
New  York  and  Orange  or  Newark,  160;  fourteen  rides  on  the  elevated  rail- 
road between  Washington  Square  and  Washington  Heights  (One  Hundred 
and  Fifty-fifth  street),  112;  fifty-four  rides  on  the  same,  to  or  from  One 
Hundred  and  Fourth  street,  270 ;  eight  rides  on  the  same,  to  or  from  Harlem, 
48;  fifteen  rides  to  or  from  Fulton  street,  30.  This  makes  a  total  of  2,335 
miles,  which  the  rides  I  have  taken  in  horse-car  and  omnibus,  on  my  wheel's 
account,  would  readily  raise  to  2,400.  The  wheel  itself  is  shown  by  the  pres- 
ent record  to  have  traveled  13,160  miles,  and  I  therefore  am  led  to  assume 
that  it  has  "  seen  a  good  deal  more  of  America  "  than  any  other  bicycle  a- 
going.  My  manuscript  log,  concerning  its  travels  and  adventures,  occupies 
152  pages,  with  an  average  contents  of  200  words  each ;  and  I  hope  to  pre- 
pare therefrom,  for  the  March  Wheelman,  some  account  of  its  mishaps,  and  of 
the  cost  of  repairing  them.  I  may  also  offer  then  some  considerations  tend- 
ing to  show  that  my  steadfast  sticking  to  so  small  a  wheel,  while  it  is  possible 
for  me  to  propel  one  which  is  half  a  foot  higher,  is  not  altogether  due  to  the 
sentimental  consideration  that  "  I  was  born  in  '46." 

One  more  exhibition  of  "mileage  statistics"  and  this  present  article 
shall  be  ended.  I  have  wheeled  40  miles  in  street  parades :  14  at  Newport, 
4  at  Boston,  13  at  Chicago,  and  9  at  Philadelphia  ;  52  miles  in  club  runs  :  22 
at  Washington  (three  runs),  12  at  Poughkeepsie,  12  at  Brooklyn,  and  6  at 
Brattleboro ;  80  miles  with  two  or  more  chance  associates  :  40  from  Taunton, 
16  from  Boston,  33  from  Poughkeepsie,  12  from  Chicago,  and  12  from  Louis- 
ville ;  and  205  miles  with  single  companions,  numbering  a  dozen  altogether : 
90  between  Boston  and  Portsmouth,  20  between  Utica  and  Trenton  Falls,  27 
in  and  about  Washington,  25  about  Dedham  and  Needham,  15  near  Dansville, 
8  at  Orange,  4  at  Frederick,  4  at  Newport,  2  at  Cayuga,  5  at  Philadelphia,  3 
at  Brooklyn,  and  2  in  New  York.  If  I  add  50  mtl^lUlD  cover  the  distances 
which  friends  have  ridden  beside  me  on  hor"  "Me  me  in 

carriages,  or  walked  or  rowed  beside  me,  thf  repre- 

sent that  part  of  my  riding  which  has  beeit''  ^y  ** 

3 


34 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


I 


than  that  of  myself.     All  the  rest  of  my  6,000  miles  a-wheel-back   has  been 
traveled  alone  I 

The  surprising  part  of  this  last-named  circumstance,  to  me,  is  that  people 
should  be  so  generally  surprised  at  it.  Men  cannot,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
readily  adapt  their  business  affairs  in  such  way  as  to  make  their  holidays  and 
vacations  coincide  nith  those  of  other  men  \  and  a  peculiu  charm  of  the  bicy- 
cle is  its  capacity  for  economizing  every  shred  and  atom  of  a  man's  leisuic, — 
for  increasing  his  independence  in  respect  to  relaxation.  Only  in  exceptional 
cases  can  citenaive  louring  be  successfully  indulged  in  otherwise  than  as  a 
solitary  amusement.  What  reasonable  chance  is  there  that,  in  a  ride  of  say 
400  miles,  two  men  can  get  along  comfortably  together,  unless  they  are  veiy 
intimate  friends  and  of  very  equal  wheeling  capacities  ?  For  my  own  part, 
I  have  thus  far  failed  to  induce  a  single  one  of  my  old-time  comrades  to  take 
kindly  to  the  wheel ;  and  when  I  ask,  "  Where  are  the  boys  who  bravely 
bounced  the  bone-shakers  with  me  along  the  New  Haven  sidewalks,  in  that 
glad  winter  of  '69 "!  "  echo  sadly  answers  :  "  Married  and  dead  by  the  score  I  " 
Hence,  as  I  seem  thus  fated  always  to  "  go  it  alone,"  I  naturally  feel  an 
abiding  enthusiasm  for  a  pastime  so  perfectly  adapted  to  my  disposition  and 
Hence,  too,  I  trust  that  Mt.  Calverley  will  pardon  me  if  I 
o  give  rhythmic  expression  to  my 


thus  parody  on 

e  of  his  parodies  in  order  (0  giv 

Olhen  miir  praiM  Iht  gnnd  diapliys 

The  dulMiini  niadt  on  gala  dayi.- 

Fi[  may  1  be  at  luch  lima  from  il 

Though  lh<n  ihe  public  may  be  "  lo« 

Fannd  by  th<  breeu,  la  whiri  at  euc 

My  hilhfulwhwli.  allien™. 

And  if  folk*  n«  .buul  ih<  '•  «u 

Youi  nauUr  mHli.  1  like  not  th« 

The  lonely  lour  halb  more  lo  pleue 

COLUMBIA,  NO.  234." 

"  Faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend."  So  runs  the  proverb,  which  I 
must  point  to  in  explanation  of  my  singular  conduct  in  adhering  loyally  for 
four  seasons  to  the  fortunes  of  "  Kumbcr  234."  It  is  only  an  old-fashioned 
little  46-incher,  with  cone'bearings  and  big  pedals.  There  is  nothing  about 
il3  general  appearance  to  hinder  the  casual  examiner  from  sneering  at  it  as 
"  no  great  shakes  of  a  bicycle," ;  but  yet  it  gave  me  the  greatest  shake  of  my 
lifetime,  the  very  tirst  day  I  mounted  it,  and  it  has  since  been  pushed  by  me 
over  3.  greater  stretch  of  American  soil  than  any  other  wheel  known  to  the  rec- 
ords of  bicycling.  Men  of  more  massive  physique  than  mine  have  had  Iheir 
bones  broken,  and  broken  more  thoroughly  than  mine  were,  by  the  kicking  of 
the  steely  steed ;  men  of  longer  purses  than  mine  have  emptied  them  more  lav- 
ishly in  the  purchase  of  their  mounts;  but,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and 
belief,  I  am  the  only  American  bicycler  whose  very  first  ride  (completed  in 
less  than-  a  minute  of  time  and  covering  less  than  a  rod  of  space)  cost  so 
great  a  sum  of  money  as  (234.  Half  of  that  amount  was  paid  tor  Ihe  machine 
itself,  and  the  other  half  went  10  (he  surgical  machinists,  who  successfully 
mended  my  broken  elbow  ;  but  I  do  not  think  I  ought  to  be  branded  as  a  mon- 
ument of  duplicity  if,  in  my  more  weary  and  deceitful  momenta,  when  questioned 
as  to  whether  the  "  234  "  stamped  on  the  cranks  of  my  vehicle  does  not  repre- 
sent  the  number  of  dollars  paid  for  the  same,  I  use  "  Ves  "  as  my  easiest 
answer.  Il  is  evident,  however,  that  no  man — not  even  a  man  who  earns  his 
livelihood  by  newspaper  writing— can  ever  be  rich  enough  to  pay  that  rate 
per  minute  for  his  fun,  or  that  rate  per  rod  for  his  traveling.  Hence,  in  order 
to  "  bring  down  the  average  "  to  a  point  where  the  expense  of  riding  might 
I         i...._ji_  J  .    -ome,  I  have  felt  in  duty  bound 

1  now,  at  the  end  of  my  fourth 
id  of  transportation  on  the  19th 
lan  6,000  miles  of  ridins,  where- 
light.  In  order  still  further  to 
in  of  buying  a  new  wheel  for  at 
lie  record  of  my  old  one  up  to 
ive  become  so  lirmly  wedded  (o 
lie  us ;  perhaps  by  that  lime  all 


36  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

the  blandishments  of  "  the  newer  and  better  "  will  have  no  other  effect  than  to 
make  me  cry  out  defiantly,  in  the  words  of  Puck's  professional  poet,  — 

"  Nay !  I'll  ding  to  thee,  old  bicyde, 
Till  thy  round  red  rubber  tires 
Pound  to  rags,  and  till  to  toothpidca 
Split  thy  tremulous  sted  wires  I  " 

The  chief  object  of  the  present  article,  however,  is  to  describe  the  manner 
in  which  the  tires,  spokes,  and  other  component  parts  of  "  Number  234,"  have 
stood  the  pounding  I  have  subjected  them  to  in  driving  it  6,175  miles,  during 
the  four  seasons  past.  My  tours,  as  outlined  in  last  month's  Wheeiman,  have 
extended  into  fifteen  States  and  embraced  2,600  distinct  miles  of  American 
roads ;  and  I  assume  that  no  other  bicycle  than  mine  has  yet  made  anything 
like  as  extensive  a  trial  of  them ;  but  I  may  as  well  confess  at  the  outset  that, 
though  I  am  as  regards  ancestry  a  thoroughbred  Yankee  from  Yankeeville, 
I  have  somehow  failed  to  inherit  the  aptitude*  and  ingenuity  popularly  ac- 
credited to  the  race  in  respect  to  things  mechanical. 

To  me  such  things  are  an  abiding  and  oppressive  mystery ;  to  me  the 
comparisons  of  "  points,"  and  the  discussions  about  minute  details  of  manu- 
facture are  apt  to  be  wearisome,  if  not  incomprehensible ;  to  me  a  bicycle  is 
a  bicycle,  and  I  am  so  much  pleased  at  contemplating  the  superiority  of  this 
sort  of  vehicle  over  other  vehicles,  that  I  have  no  disposition  to  examine  into 
the  possible  superiority  of  one  variety  of  it  over  another  variety.  Hence,  in 
spite  of  my  great  experience  as  a  road-rider,  my  opinion  as  to  the  mechanical 
merits  of  "  Number  234  "  cannot  properly  be  considered  that  of  an  expert ; 
cannot  properly  be  accepted  as  decisive,  or  even  weighty.  I  certainly  think 
that  my  wheel  is  a  very  good  one,  and  I  certainly  think  that  the  story  I 
have  to  tell  about  the  way  it  has  stood  the  strain  put  upon  it  is  a  story  which 
ought  to  convince  the  most  sceptical  that  "  the  bicycle  is  not  an  expensive 
and  easily-spoiled  toy,  but  rather  a  cheap  and  durable  carriage  for  general 
usage  on  the  road."  At  the  same  time,  if  I  had  chanced  to  purchase  some 
other  make  than  a  Columbia,  I  presume  that  I  should  have  stuck  to  it  just  as 
persistently,  and  given  it  just  as  thorough  a  trial ;  and,  for  aught  I  know  or  sus- 
pect, the  result  might  have  been  just  as  satisfactory,  or  even  more  satisfac- 
tory. In  other  words,  my  facts  are  presented  for  what  they  are  worth,  in 
showing  how  the  bicycle  in  general  resists  hard  usage.  They  are  not  pre- 
sented to  show  that  one  particular  make  is  better  than  all  others,  or  that  my 
own  individual  "  Number  234  "  is  the  best  of  all. 

I  had  ridden  234  miles,  on  twenty  different  days,  during  which  my  ma- 
chine had  had  a  good  many  tumbles,  before  I  asked  any  one  to  adjust  its 
bearings,  or  otherwise  repair  it.  Happening,  then,  to  be  at  the  Popes'  office, 
in  Boston,  I  indulged  in  75  cents'  worth  of  improvements,  which  included 
straightening  the  cranks,  and  cementing  the  loosened  end  of  the  splice  of  the 
small  tire.    As  spectators  always  kindly  drew  my  attention  to  this  "cut,"  by 


COLUMBIA,  NO.  234.  37 

poking  it  with  their  car.ea  or  fingers,  the  end  soon  worked  loose  again,  and 
remained  ao  until  I  secured  new  tires,  a  year  laier,  ihuugh  it  never  caused 
me  any  real  trouble.    Thirty-three  more  rides,  and  dj^  more  miles  of  riding, 
brought  me  10  the  meet  at  Newport,  with  pedals  and  bearings  all  so  loose  and 
rattling  as  to  excite  the  surprise  and  pity  of  the  first  experienced  riders  I  got 
into  conversation  with.     They  quickly  "  tightened  me  up,"  and  instructed  me 
how  to  adjust  the  various  cones  and  cams  ;  but  until  this  time  I  believe  1  had 
never  meddled  with  a  single  nut  or  screw  belonging  to  my  bicycle,  except  in 
moving  back  the  saddle.     At  Stratford,  on  the  previous  November,  however, 
1  helped  a  blacksmith  pull  into  shape  a  very  badly  bent  crank  (at  the  same 
time,  as  I  suspect,  pulling  the  axle  a  trifle  out  of  shape) ;  and,  on  returning 
from  the  Newport  meet,  my  handle-bar  got  a  severe  twist,  which  my  compan- 
ions were  able  promptly  to  rectify.      Perhaps,  though,  it  was  a  result  of  this 
twist  that,  on  the  occasion  of  the  next  severe  fall,  at  Washington,  nine  months 
later,  with  1.350  more  miles  on  my  record,  the  right  handle  broke  square  off, 
a.Dd  a  new  bar  had  lo  be  secured.    The  part  of  my  machine  which  first  broke, 
however,  was  the  spring,  which  cracked  in  two  on  the  23d  of  August,  iSSo 
(when  my  record  of  miles  was  1,480,  and  mynumber  of  riding  daj-s  was  eighty- 
two),  though   the  fracture  did  not  loosen  the  saddle  or  prevent  my  wheeling 
homeward  in  safely.     In  facl,  Ihough  the  jarring  and  jolting  seemed   rather 
Greater  than   usual,  I  probabty  should  not  have  detected  the  crack  in  the 
not  uncovered  it  in  preparing  to  attach,  for  trial,  a  new 
;."    I  had  bought  this,  not  because  my  old  block-mounted 
it,  or   in  any  way  uncomfortable,  but  because   1    had  read 
about  the  superiority  of  this  new  variety,  that  I  thought, 
i  departure  on  a  lour  of  500  miles,  Ihat  I  "  must  have  the 
iking  of  the  spring  prevented  this  preliminary  trial  of   the 
it,  for  the  first  time,  when  I  began  my  tour,  and  discovered 
miles  that  it  was  far  less  comfortable  than  the  old  one. 
I  lo  ride  it  100  miles  further,  before  I  could  get  back  the 
.mediately  ordered  sent  lo  me  ;  and  I  have  made  no  other 
:.     As  thai  original  saddle  is  now  completely  worn  out  at 
.  1  propose  to  begin  my  fifth  season  with  a  new  one  of  the 

ichine  to  its  birthplace  in  Hartford  lo  have  the  broken 
id.  as  the  pedals  had  become  unduly  worn,  because  of  my 
Hrst  900  miles  without  making  any  adjustment.  I  had  them 
es  ;  and  I  also  ordered  new  tires,  because,  though  they  had 
lo  the  rims,  and  were  not  perceptibly  worn,  the  front  one 
)  cut  straight  across  il,  and  I  did  not  wish,  al  the  outset  of 
ake  the  chance  of  its  coming  completely  apart.  For  these 
neral  tightening  up  of  the  parts,  I  paid  (r5;  and  at  the 
months  >— ' —  •  "-ad  paid  $iJo  for  other  small  repaira, 
1  oil-cii  ■  for  the  rear  axle.     I  may  as  well 


38  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

say  here  that  I  have  driven  my  second  set  of  tires  4,700  miles,  and  that  I 
think  at  least  another  1,000  miles  will  be  required  to  really  "  pound  them  to 
rags.'*  The  splice  in  the  big  tire  worked  loose  in  this  second  set,  just  as  the 
splice  in  the  little  one  worked  loose  in  the  first,  though  not  until  I  had  driven 
it  some  2,500  miles,  or  more  than  ten  times  as  far  as  in  the  first  case.  After 
two  or  three  unsatisfactory  experiments  with  cement,  I  had  the  loose  end  of 
the  splice  sewed  down  with  fine  wire ;  and  this  improvement  lasted  for  500 
miles,  or  until  the  tip  of  the  splice  broke  off.  Then,  at  Chicago,  I  had  a  part  of 
the  tire  turned,  so  as  to  bring  the  good  part  of  the  splice  outside.  Three  days 
later,  with  another  100  miles  on  my  record,  a  wheelman  in  Kentucky  drew  at- 
tention to  the  looseness  of  another  section  of  my  tire,  and  kindly  cemented 
it  on  for  me.  At  the  end  of  my  Kentucky  trip,  when  I  had  run  3,400  miles  on 
this  set  of  tires,  I  had  them  taken  off  and  turned,  so  that  my  last  1,300  miles 
on  them  have  been  run  with  the  original  rim-sides  outward.  In  saying  this, 
I  assume  that  when  the  tires  were  taken  off,  in  January,  1881  (after  780  miles' 
service),  in  order  to  allow  the  rims  to  be  nickeled,  they  were  replaced  as  they 
stood  originally.  It  appears  from  this  statement,  which  is  an  exhaustive  one, 
down  to  the  very  smallest  facts  of  the  case,  that  in  all  my  thousands  of  miles 
of  touring  I  have  never  had  any  serious  trouble  with  my  tires.  They  have  never 
dropped  off,  or  even  worked  loose  to  such  a  degree  as  to  interfere  at  all  with 
my  riding,  and  I  have  never,  personally,  doctored  them  with  a  bit  of  cement. 

The  first  serious  break  in  my  machine  occurred  on  the  20th  of  January, 
1881,  when  I  was  making  my  first  trial  of  it  in  the  snow,  among  the  sleigh- 
riders  on  Sixth  Avenue,  above  Central  Park, — the  record  then  being  2,222 
miles.  The  air  was  not  particularly  cold  or  frosty,  the  riding  was  reasonably 
smooth,  and  I  had  not  been  subjected  to  any  serious  jolts ;  but  somehow,  as  I 
was  jogging  along  a  perfectly  level  stretch  of  the  roadway,  at  a  tolerably  brisk 
pace,  the  front  wheel  gave  a  sudden  lurch  forward,  and  I  found  myself  stand- 
ing upright  and  still  holding  upright  the  front  half  of  the  machine,  while  the 
backbone  and  rear  wheel  lay  prostrate  in  the  snow.  The  upright  part,  which 
I  think  is  called  the  neck,  had  broken  off  in  the  thread  of  the  screw,  just 
below  the  lock-nut.  I  paid  a  New  York  agency  $5  to  have  it  welded  together 
again,  and  $20  more  to  have  the  whole  machine  newly  nickeled  in  every  part. 
Deep  grief  had  oppressed  me  from  the  very  outset  of  its  career,  because, 
though  the  contract  said  "  full  nickeled,"  the  rims  were  painted.  Hence, 
when  I  next  met  my  replated  "  Number  234,"  and  saw  how  bravely  it  glis- 
tened along  the  rims,  my  joy  was  great.  But  disgust  quickly  followed  when 
I  observed  that,  in  the  process  of  polishing  the  same,  the  spokes,  at  the 
points  of  juncture,  had  been  cut  nearly  half  through.  My  fear  that  after  this 
weakening  they  would  snap  at  the  first  severe  strain  has  not  been  justified  by 
actual  trial,  for  only  two  of  them  have  ever  broken.  One  spoke  in  the  rear 
wheel  broke  at  the  time  of  a  severe  fall,  May  i,  1882,  at  Bloomfield,  when  the 
record  stood  at  4,285  miles ;  one  spoke  in  the  front  wheel  broke  on  a  smooth 
path,  at  Chicopee,  Dec.  30,  1882,  when  the  record  had  reached  6,140  miles. 


COLUMBIA,  NO,  234.  39 

Both  these  wires  snapped  at  the  points  where  they  had  been  cut  in  polishing. 
I  may  add  here,  that  none  of  my  spokes  have  ever  got  loose  enough  to  rattle, 
and  that  I  have  never  had  any  of  them  tightened  except  when  visiting  a  ma- 
chine-shop for  more  important  repairs.  On  a  very  few  occasions  I  have 
screwed  up  some  loosened  lock-nuts,  without  affecting  the  spokes  or  nipples, 
and  once,  when  a  nipple  broke  off  without  loosening  the  wire,  I  pegged  it  in 
place  to  prevent  rattling.  The  little  bar,  or  rivet,  which  attaches  the  joint  of 
the  spring  to  the  cylindrical  plate  sliding  along  the  backbone,  rattled  out  once, 
in  September,  1880,  when  I  was  touring  in  Western  New  York;  but  a  postal 
card  sent  to  the  manufactory  caused  a  new  rivet  to  reach  me  within  three  days, 
and  a  nail  served  as  a  satisfactory  substitute  during  that  interval. 

"  Number  234  "  was  disabled  for  the  second  time  on  the  8th  of  June,  1881, 
when  2,993  miles  had  been  traversed  As  I  dismounted  for  dinner  at  the 
•hotel  in  Bemardston,  after  riding  twenty  miles,  whereof  the  last  three  or  four 
had  been  made  without  stop,  a  lounger  drew  my  attention  to  an  appearance 
of  "  something  wrong  "  under  the  saddle ;  and  I  then  discovered  that  the  un- 
der side  of  the  shell  of  the  backbone  had  cracked  open,  at  a  distance  of  about 
six  inches  from  the  head,  though  the  solid  metal  beneath  prevented  a  com- 
plete break.  I  did  not  venture  another  mount,  however,  but  trundled  the 
cripple  to  the  adjoining  railroad  station,  and,  next  day,  to  the  manufactory  in 
Hartford.  A  new  backbone  was  now  put  in,  of  somewhat  different  shape 
from  the  original,  and  the  step  was  attached  to  it  by  two  short  screws,  instead 
of  by  the  old  device  of  a  bolt  and  nut.  The  change  did  not  commend  itself 
to  my  approval,  however,  for  in  touring  along  the  tow-path  of  the  Chesapeake 
and  Ohio  Canal,  four  months  later,  the  screws,  after  about  900  miles'  service, 
persisted  in  working  loose,  until  I  lost  one  of  them.  Then  I  carefully  bound 
cloth  around  the  step  to  prevent  the  other  one  from  rattling  out.  But  it  did 
drop  out,  and  I  felt  desperate,  for  I  could  not  mount  again  without  a  screw 
to  fasten  the  step  on  with,  and  I  was  "forty  miles  from  any  town."  As  I 
knew  the  loss  had  happened  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  however,  I  scoured 
the  tow-path  for  that  distance,  until,  at  last,  I  was  rewarded  by  the  glisten  of 
the  little  speck  of  nickel  in  the  sand, — though  its  recovery  would  seem  hardly 
more  likely,  on  general  principles,  than  that  of  the  traditional  needle  in  the 
hay-mow.  My  second  set  of  step-screws  have  not  yet  shown  any  signs  of 
looseness  in  traveling  some  2,200  miles.  The  screw  at  the  top  of  my  handle- 
bar broke  off,  however,  last  November,  and  I  think  that  both  it  and  the  screw 
at  the  side  of  the  same  bar  were  put  in  as  substitutes  for  the  original  ones, 
which  were  loose. 

The  third  great  calamity  to  my  bicycle  happened  just  a  year  after  the 
second  one,  and  was  in  character  a  repetition  of  the  first.  On  the  9th  of  June, 
1882,  as  I  was  just  about  finishing  a  ride  of  340  miles  among  the  hills  of  Ken- 
tucky,—being  some  two  miles  from  Maysville,  on  the  Ohio  river,  where  I 
intended  to  cross  into  the  State  of  that  name,  and  journey  through  it  for 
another  week,  or  until  I  reached  Lake  Erie, — I  noticed  an  unaccountable 


««>•  l.t        l4 


:.^\  THOUSAXD  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

•.•  »-^n  Hf  tHe  nechanism,  which  "refused  to  obey  the  helm."    Carefnl  cx- 
...  ...«i  n..4My  showed  me  that  the  neck  had  been  cracked  through  just 

-  ..>*  trtc  HM.k-nttt,  though  the  adjustment  was  so  tight  that  the  parts  did  not 
.  .    «\*  ty  trom  each  other,  as  in  the  similar  break  of  January  20,  1881.    It 
*  a   »c  lemembcred  that  the  neck  then  had  a  record  of  2,222  miles;  and  be- 
A  v.»  rh^t  brc4k  and  this  second  one  the  record  was  2,650  miles.    I  am  told 
•o,f  •>k-  manufacturers,  being  convinced  that  this  screw-threading  on  the  neck 
.*  .H<t«arily  a  source  of  weakness,  long  ago  abandoned  the  production  of 
"  ^  k*  (»r  that  pattern;  but,  as   they  attempted  the  introduction  of  no  new 
I.  vH<>  In  welding  "234's"  together  again,  I  suppose  that,  at  some  point 
Niwrrii  the  a.oooth  and  3,000th  mile  after  this  second  mending,  I  may  rea- 
-.M.ibly  expect  that  the  neck  will  break  a  third  time.    I  can  only  hope,  in 
4.i(  h  ( rt*«».  that  my  own  neck  may  not  get  broken  too  I    At  the  same  time  nHth 
»r»M  ♦Ti  omi  mending  of  the  neck,  new  bearings  were  attached  to  the  fork,  and 
II.  K.gflhcr  with  the  backbone,  was  newly  nickeled.    The  lower  bearings  of 
Iht  fr<»nt  wheel  were  also  renewed;  a  new  axle,  new  hubs,  and  new  cranks 
wrf  t»  rt<l(lr<l  thereto,  and  a  new  axle  and  new  cones  to  the  rear  wheel ;  a  filling 
wrt-.  Infjcnlously  inserted  to  reduce  the  size  of  the  socket  in  which  the  pivot  of 
(h<^  i.iHk  had  been  playing  for  4,872  miles;  and  a  special  side-spring  was 
idtu  h«Ml  to  hold  up  the  brake,  as  a  substitute  for  the  unsatisfactory  nibber- 
lirttidi  prtJvidunly  employed.     I  may  here  add  that  considerable  annoyance  had 
Im'I'U  ^\st\\  me,  at  one  time  or  another,  by  the  jarnng  out  of  the  brake-screws, 
rttid  OM  thf  occanlon  of  a  certain  tumble  the  loosened  brake  itself  got  knocked 
u\\\  \  \^\\\  U^r  \\\t  last  1,300  miles  the  brake^crews  have  kept  perfectly  tight. 

\  think  that  the  first  time  one  of  my  cranks  worked  loose  was  on  the  5th 

(»f  AH«ii«t,  iHHf   (record,  3,000  miles),  as  a  result  of  letting  the  machine  fall 

lifrtvlly,  Hnd  then  letting  myself  fall  heavily  upon  it.    A  few  blows  of  the 

h^ffirn^f  |ifit  thu  crank  right  again,  and  the  trouble  has  never  been  renewed. 

Mirtl  i«rtm#'  Hrttfl  W4»,  I  believe,  the  last  of  three  or  four  occasions  on  which  I 

^fr|v'^  (rtinnd  th«  two  wheels  to  "interfere";  and  my  remedy  in  such  cases 

li.M  l»f«MT  tr»  fttill  the  backbone  away  from  the  fork  by  main  strength,  which 

Nf  r^Mfffh  «fMnft  friendly  ipectator  has  helped  me  to  apply.    Less  than  900  miles 

/ff  \\{\\\\\{  •iif»**»d  to  wear  loose  the  second  set  of  bearings  on  my  front  wheel, 

A\\\\  \  N'lrn^n,  »l  th«  manufactory,  that  the  "shoulders'*  of  the  concave  cones 

(If  ♦flf/l  t/'  1'^  /ll^'d  down  in  order  to  have  them  "take  hold**  again,  in  obedi- 

i\y\h  \i\  \\\h  S\^}\\p\\S\\^,  of  the  cams.     I  know,  too,  from  mv  experience  with 

Ih/'  fif-if  •^^t  tff  ll^rt^^fl^«»,  that  after  there  has  been  much  filing,  the  cams  them- 

nf  l»'f..»  will  frtll  l<»  'M^kfi  hold"  unless  little  braces  of  iron  are  inserted  be- 

Iwi  /ff  fl•^f/f  mift  ♦ti^  (outn,     I  paid  a  Yonkers  blacksmith  half  a  dollar  for  a 

h'\\t  lioiif**  wfffU  In  rnaklnfc  me  a  rude  pair  of  such  braces,  in  August,  1880, 

jvfif'ff  wv  ff'f  ^^f^  ^'^^  ''4  V>  mlle».     I  believe  my  record  was  5,580  miles  before 

f  hff^Uh  fhv  ftfxt  (ntu  hoU,  ^ry  nrrewing  it  up  too  tightly,  though  I  twisted  off 

fitr  lif-n/l  of  ts  •fffntft  f»n#»  within  Iws  than  400  miles  afterwards.    Tbos  the 

)( (If  iif  hnltn  I>frlf4  t  hiid  (Mrrlcd  no  long  were  utilized  at  last. 


L 


COLUMBIA,  NO.  234-  41 

A  summaiy  of  the  parts  renewed,  as  described  in  the  foregoing  history  of 
"Number  234,"  includes  bandle^bar,  spring,  backbone,  step,  pedals,  cranks, 
liubs,  axles  and  cones  of  both  wheels,  tires,  bearings  of  fork,  neck  and  socket 
of  neck-pivot,  oil'Cups,  spring-boll,  pair  of  cam-bolls,  cam-braces,  screws  of 
step  and  brake,  one  long  spoke  and  one  short  spoke.  The  total  cost  of  tiiese 
repairs  was  (43.65,  to  which  should  be  added  f  zo  for  nickel-plating.  The  Mc- 
Kee  &  Harrington  suspension  saddle,  which  proved  useless,  cost  $3.50; 
Pope  ej-clometer,  J7 ;  handy  English  tool-bag,  (3 ;  Lamson's  luggige-carriers, 
Jl.SO;  oil,  $1.25;  padlock  and  chain,  pair  of  pocket  oil-cana,  monhey-wpench, 

.1....  j-:_i.; — LI 1.„    -..i-hjr  cloth  and  bands,  cement, 

naking  a  total  for  "  eitras  " 

out  of  garments  which  have 
t,  would  be  laid  aside  until 

"giving  away  10  the  poor." 
lal  relish  the  black  doeskin 
annels  of  the  summer  hotel 
>agne  stains  of  the  one  and 
rer,  that,  in  addition  to  the 
duced  to  rags  in  the  saddle, 
itiments  the  sum  of  (66,  as 
Icet,  hal  and  cap,  corduroy 
;  flannel  shirts,  (12.50 ;  two 
lirs  of  riding  gloves,  (5.50. 
\  crate  for  1,600  miles,  on  a 

The  fees  given  to  baggage- 
}5  mites,  together  with  a  few 
Express  charges  on  baggage 
I  have  paid  (3  for  rent  of 
ickeis  to  races  and  the  like. 
:h  represents  the  direct  coat 
I  paid  for  my  firsl  mount  on 
pter  how  I  had  been  carried 

on  water;  and  that  the  dis- 
not  with  it  amount  to  2,000 
:ed  as  the  probable  average 
'self  through  this  entire  dis- 

as  the  indirect  expenses  of 
ned  "mileage"  may  be  a  lit- 

of  my  personal  subsistence 
in  advance  of  what  its  cost 

specified  as  a  probable  esti- 
:  greater  than  the  true  one. 


40  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

stiffening  of  the  mechanism,  which  "  refused  to  obey  the  helm."  Caref al  ex- 
amination finally  showed  me  that  the  neck  had  been  cracked  through  just 
below  the  lock-nut,  though  the  adjustment  was  so  tight  that  the  parts  did  not 
fall  away  from  each  other,  as  in  the  similar  break  of  January  20,  188 1.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  the  neck  then  had  a  record  of  2,222  miles;  and  be- 
tween that  break  and  this  second  one  the  record  was  2,650  miles.  I  am  told 
that  the  manufacturers,  being  convinced  that  this  screw-threading  on  the  neck 
is  necessarily  a  source  of  weakness,  long  ago  abandoned  the  production  of 
necks  of  that  pattern ;  but,  as  they  attempted  the  introduction  of  no  new 
device  in  welding  "234*5"  together  again,  I  suppose  that,  at  some  point 
between  the  2,000th  and  3,000th  mile  after  this  second  mending,  I  may  rea- 
sonably expect  that  the  neck  will  break  a  third  time.  I  can  only  hope,  in^ 
such  case,  that  my  own  neck  may  not  get  broken  too  1  At  the  same  time  with 
this  second  mending  of  the  neck,  new  bearings  were  attached  to  the  fork,  and 
it,  together  with  the  backbone,  was  newly  nickeled.  The  lower  bearings  of 
the  front  wheel  were  also  renewed ;  a  new  axle,  new  hubs,  and  new  cranks 
were  added  thereto,  and  a  new  axle  and  new  cones  to  the  rear  wheel ;  a  filling 
was  ingeniously  inserted  to  reduce  the  size  of  the  socket  in  which  the  pivot  of 
the  neck  had  been  playing  for  4^72  miles;  and  a  special  side-spring  was 
attached  to  hold  up  the  brake,  as  a  substitute  for  the  unsatisfactory  rubber- 
bands  previously  employed.  I  may  here  add  that  considerable  annoyance  had 
been  given  me,  at  one  time  or  another,  by  the  jarring  out  of  the  brake-screws, 
and  on  the  occasion  of  a  certain  tumble  the  loosened  brake  itself  got  knocked 
out ;  but  for  the  last  1,300  miles  the  brake-screws  have  kept  perfectly  tight. 

I  think  that  the  first  time  one  of  my  cranks  worked  loose  was  on  the  5th 
of  August,  1 881  (record,  3,000  miles),  as  a  result  of  letting  the  machine  fall 
heavily,  and  then  letting  myself  fall  heavily  upon  it.  A  few  blows  of  the 
hammer  put  the  crank  right  again,  and  the  trouble  has  never  been  renewed. 
That  same  date  was,  I  believe,  the  last  of  three  or  four  occasions  on  which  I 
have  caused  the  two  wheels  to  "interfere";  and  my  remedy  in  such  cases 
has  been  to  pull  the  backbone  away  from  the  fork  by  main  strength,  which 
strength  some  friendly  spectator  has  helped  me  to  apply.  Less  than  900  miles 
of  riding  sufficed  to  wear  loose  the  second  set  of  bearings  on  my  front  wheel, 
and  I  learned,  at  the  manufactory,  that  the  "  shoulders  "  of  the  concave  cones 
needed  to  be  filed  down  in  order  to  have  them  "  take  hold  "  again,  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  tightening  of  the  cams.  I  know,  too,  from  my  experience  with 
the  first  set  of  bearings,  that  after  there  has  been  much  filing,  the  cams  them- 
selves will  fail  to  "  take  hold "  unless  little  braces  of  iron  are  inserted  be- 
tween them  and  the  cones.  I  paid  a  Yonkers  blacksmith  half  a  dollar  for  a 
half-hour's  work  in  making  me  a  rude  pair  of  such  braces,  in  August,  1880, 
when  my  record  was  1,450  miles.  I  believe  my  record  was  5,580  miles  before 
I  broke  my  first  cam-bolt,  by  screwing  it  up  too  tightly,  though  I  twisted  off 
the  head  of  a  second  one  within  less  than  400  miles  afterwards.  Thus  the 
pair  of  extra  bolts  I  had  carried  so  long  were  utilized  at  last. 


^   .     -     —  •  "  T    ' 
_*-J--    -^ 


-.^      "H— tnw-    rsrt '  r.  - 


jra*.  tiirr   t" 


'.  •        T" 


.t:     :=^-     .>     -r:..!     r-  ■-=--     Ias-c-i*-     -  ■«      ' 


-        *^         — - 


a_     -::_      - 


«•-._.        «. 


-•       .* 


w  ■»i»^ 


L.>f^« 


•-     «.' 


'ar    --iirr: 


A         A  *    •  k 


T-- 


•r 


A-  -    ur 


■r 


48  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

"  improvements  "  that  have  come  into  vogue  during  recent  years,  and  to  in- 
telligently compare  the  new  with  the  old, — ^in  regard  to  durability  as  well  as 
in  regard  to  personal  comfort.  I  trust,  too,  that  the  new  Forty-Six  may  have 
the  power  of  the  old  one  for  inspiring  my  friend,  the  Small  Boy,  to  enliven  its 
pathway  with  outbursts  of  vrit  and  humor.  Had  I  elected  to  ride  a  52-incher, 
I  never  more  could  hope  to  hear  myself  designated  as  "  the  big  man  on  the  lit- 
tle bicycle."  On  the  morning  of  my  very  last  day  with  **  Number  234  ** — ^when 
I  heard  the  children  cry :  "  Oh,  see  the  little  bicycle !  It  *s  a  new  one  I  All 
silver  I" — I  felt  amply  repaid  for  my  years  of  industrious  polishing  on  the 
nickel  plate.  But  the  most  amusing  comment  was  reserved  for  the  afternoon. 
Within  a  half-mile  of  the  place  where  I  made  my  final  dismount,  the  happy 
captor  of  **■  the  first  snake  of  spring  '*  ceased  for  an  instant  to  pull  the  cord 
which  was  dragging  the  wriggling  reptile  along  the  walk ;  and  then  he  shouted 
after  me  :  '*  There  goes  a  greenhorn  ! "    And  that  was  the  very  last  word. 


AoDKNOUM,  April  14,  1885. — Pilgrims  to  the  metropolis,  wlio  may  crave  the  privilege  of 
humbly  laying  their  wreaths  of  laurel  and  holm-oak  upon  the  venerated  head  of  the  sub)ect  of 
this  chapter,  will  find  "  Number  234  "  standing  in  state,  in  the  show-window  of  the  Pope 
Manufacturing  Company's  dty  office  and  salesroom,  at  No.  la  Warren  st.  This  is  a  few  rods 
west  of  Broadway,  opposite  the  little  park  which  contains  the  City  Hall  and  the  Court  House ; 
and  the  central  position  of  the  park  may  be  still  further  impressed  upon  the  stranger's  mind  by 
the  fact  that  the  stalely  Post  0£ke  Building  forms  its  southern  boundary,  while  the  entrance  to 
the  great  Brooklyn  Bridge  is  upon  its  eastern  side.  At  the  doorway  of  the  salesroom,  surmount- 
ing a  heap  of  immortelles  (to  which  are  attached  the  visiting-cards  of  America's  greatest  warriors, 
statesmen  and  poets),  the  explorer  will  observe  a  placard,  bearing  the  following  legend  : 

"'CoLUMnA,  No.  234.'  This  machine,  which  was  mounted  for  the  first  time  by  Karl 
Kron,  on  the  a^di  of  May,  1879,  has  been  driven  by  him  a  distance  of  io,o8a  miles,  as  measored 
by  Pope  cydometer,  his  final  ride  having  been  taken  on  the  14th  of  April,  1884.  In  making 
this  record,  upwards  of  5,000  distinct  miles  of  American  roadway  have*  been  traversed,  indudtng 
1,100  miles  in  the  British  Possessions.  Exact  descriptions  of  these  roads  will  be  published  in 
*  Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle. '  The  record  of  nules  for  each  of  the  five  years  was  as  fol- 
lows :  1879,  first  year,  742  miles;  1880,  second  year,  r,474  miles ;  1881,  third  year,  1,956  miles ; 
1882,  fourth  jrear,  3,00a  miles;  1883,  fif^l^  year,  3,534  miles.  During  the  final  twelve  months, 
ending  with  the  14th  of  April,  1884,  the  record  was  3,840  miles.  On  the  nth  of  October,  1883, 
when  the  machine  had  a  total  record  of  8,2a8  miles,  h  made  a  day's  record  of  100  miles  straighta- 
way through  Canada,  and  on  the  day  after  its  10,000  miles'  record  was  completed,  it  was  ridden 
from  Stamford  to  Cheshire,  Conn.  (55  miles  of  hilly  and  sandy  roads),  within  a  period  of  twelve 
hours.  The  present  tires  were  applied  to  the  rims  in  August,  1880,  and  have  traversed 
8,608  miles  in  as  different  States  and  Provinces,  without  once  coming  loose  while  on  the  road. 
Between  the  8th  of  October  and  the  aad  of  November,  1883  (embracing  36  days  of  actual  riding, 
during  the  first  14  of  which  635  miles  were  traversed  in  Canada,  ending  at  Ogdensbur^,  this 
bicycle  was  driven  from  Detroit,  Mich.,  to  Staunton,  Va.,  making  a  continuous  straightaway 
trail  of  1,400  miles,  equivalent  to  one-eighteenth  of  the  entire  circumference  of  the  globe.  This 
IS  by  far  the  longest  continuous  trail  3ret  reported  of  a  bicycle  in  any  part  of  the  worid,  and  the 
tires  which  made  it  had  traversed  6,600  miles  before  banning  the  journey.*' 

At  the  very  time  when  the  above  statement  was  put  in  type,  however,  the  tires  of  anodicr 
Columbia  bicycle  were  tracing  upon  the  surface  of  this  continent  another  straightaway  trail, 
nearly  three  times  as  long,  connecting  the  Pacific  ocean  with  the  Atlantic.  Between  April  22 
and  August  4, 1884,  Thomas  Stevens  pushed  his  wheel  every  rod  of  the  way  &om  San  PranoKO 
to  Boston,  estimating  the  length  of  his  route  (for  he  carried  no  cyclometer)  as  3,700  miles. 


MY  234  RIDES  ON  "NO.  2^4."* 

This  magazine  for  February  contained  a  chronological  report  of  my 
(ravels  during  "  Four  Seasons  on  a  FoTty-Six,"  and  the  March  issue  gave  a 
minute  descripKon  of  the  manner  in  nhich  this  "Columbia  No,  234"  had 
stood  the  strain  thus  put  upon  it  in  being  pushed  upwards  of  6,000  m. 
through  fifteen  different  States.  It  remains  for  the  present  article  lo  finish 
the  story,  by  making  exhibition  of  my  various  rides  and  riding  experiences,  so 
classed  together  according  to  character  as  to  be  most  significant  and  instruct- 
in,  and  also  by  offering  such  facts  about  my  personal  physique  and  habits 
of  life  as  may  be  deemed  helpful  to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  record. 
By  way  of  introductory  peace^ffering,  I  may  venture  to  bring  out  this  modest 
little  triolet,  snatched  from  under  the  snows,  where  it  had  naturally  suffered  a 
itiSening  of  its  component  parts  : — 

Though  my  rides  on  "  Two-Thirty-Fow  " 


j>  7"A\V  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

%'>>X  ^WW  ^<*i<c*  *w  tho  h4ndl«-bar,  and  I  kept  them  outside  my  hands  on  such 
^x^l«^W1a^^  \x\r  more  than  three  months  afterwards,  or  until  August  9, 1880, 
^•tf*H*-«^  \  ?»r*t  ACt^ulred  the  knack  of  properly  placing  them  on  the  inside  scc- 
tvM^  w^   ^>H»  bar«    Ju»t  four  months  from  the  day  last  named  I  thought  I 
«».VNN»«\^' vsh<sl  quite  a  feat  in  wheeling  without  stop  from  Washington  Square 
t^  ^£v<^  ^x^  throuKh  Fifth  Avenue,  the  first  three  miles  of  which  are  paved 
m*^v.  V^\^>ftA  b)ivks«    I  have  never  since  "  rattled  over  the  stones"  for  any- 
^>«iT^  «*k<^  *^  l^v^c^t  a  di:jttance  as  that  continuously,  though  I  onoe  went  from 
t>*^  :Sou«Tew  ^V>wn  Broadway  to  Fulton  Ferry,  making,  perhaps,  a  dozen  dis- 
«9WxMr>$N  )n  tiie  xw%>  miles,    I  can  thus  claim  the  credit  of  pedaling  through  the 
^k.>Vv.-\^  ^n^;))  01  Mai^hattan  Island  in  the  roadway.    My  first  "long  stay"  in 
^>vr  Tsjw>t.4^  w«ji  at  Oraixge,  on  May  Day,  1880,  when,  except  for  one  moment- 
^  --   j^Tv:.  m<si>^$^  ^ii^amount  for  an  imaginary  obstacle,  I  kept  a-going  just  an 
>v.^^u<    An^  ac<\>sm>>^)$hed  eight  miles.    On  the  9th  of  August  foUowii^  I  did 
Tfcki-^tt^t:  id:.'^  <«  the  Boulevartls  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  making  one  needless 
-isj*  .^^  ^  oua~3^  «'<^  an  himr  before  that,  when  the  record  was  ten  miks  and  a 
^•a:.      y  ^>t  ^T$  Ukt^  in  the  same  region,  when  the  roads  were  ratihcs'  naddr. 
^  -^<>vt;  7«^*«Tr  ir/.>e$  without  stop  in  an  hour  and  three^uaitcrs,  aad.  caacpi 
T  "T  2  ^%ui:<r  .d7>jfi.>iaBtu  caused  by  the  looming  up  of  a  wa^ron  la  1^  dxr^ 
-«^.-k^^  i*;:^  ^*^asr  ^sc  atxempied  fourteen  miles  inside  of  two  kooR.    Ifr 
^rsuL  ~    iwva^t;  '^  scjlt'^  ra  the  saddle,  however,  was  made  a  WMocii  Iwrrr. 
-*a!ir=.-».T  Tii.  WW*.  *3rk>tS2i::^  at  the  canal  bridge  in  the  oanskirt?  oc  lie  -riBKjt 
i--    ^*-*;5cv  I  WOK  jc«c:^wa;nl  without  stop  for  16^0.  in  twp^mc^  wot  a  ^a^ 
oiarrrTC  rSK  »nnt  «vkixs«  abe  all  the  way,  and  bei^i:  sCi5^>r  «gim!t;Ufi£  wnt 
-=  .3=r=t.  :t»f  :air-i  Lj^-bosr,    Most  of  the  road  w  <rf  tkt  jacr  iicr..  ipmizfc 
'^Ba^  TSTxer  t^ss^    woL.  Spr.^ssd  ToQawanda,  where  i  rse  ^noiye  aihnKC  rmwrf 
_  .zssaBiHB;.  t&si:  s^  a  j-to]^  boS  aiX  xetr  steefv  h:11  m^url  'S'  :ni£  nn^  "ratt?  ic 
TssT.rmjur  n=rw?si  Xaicira  aad  Bssrfxlok     I  WKt  as  Klask  SLndl  witt  saSter 
T-nar.  -ssoag    1^  csueifSw  rars^S  aa  a*^>  tc»  At  nsic  jmc  laasr  tt  *twc  ish. 
ac  isca.  irruce  wiri  i:5c5a!tT,  aad  was?  tijsii  agmim»f  tt  t-  tie  sitts- 
^rr-THK  :=n  Anm  2BCiet£  a  iSsa^cit.     Hue  3  ^eaSk  ar  "Ik  TDat  Tir  s. 
-ma  s^xr  mYsmi  riu  b-iqce.  joi  t^jsa  tCTȣ  nswrt  sbol  "nar  -sceesr  tt 
2=1.  ^rzi.r:   i-r  ti  3if  Ijinr^iii  PaAinr^  I  amrn:  lan?  ^ss^  ar  ^wttBrar 


^Tais  n  m;  r-ssrinr  n:  Oferansie  anu 


=c^  ~  "aa-  Bar  -«as  ^r*-  -won:*  7irr*WiL  misr 
1.T  'M'.Hii  *tns  21  It  "Tsrani.  if  if 


Afy  234  RIDES  ON  "NO.  234."  53 

d  a  quaiter,  and  made  a  record  of  29  m.,  to  which  I  added 

lundown. 

lithout  dismount,  from  New  York  to  Yookers  (13  m.)  was 

in  an  hour  and  forty  minutes.  My  stop  then  was  caused 
I  a  few  rods  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  which  begins  beyond  the 
icends  for  more  than  a  miie  in  the  direction  of  Tarrytown, 
have  long  been  notorious  for  their  power  in  humbling  the 
bound  riders  from  the  melropalis.  On  the  7th  of  Novem- 
ver,  I  managed  for  (he  first  lime  to  array  myself  with  Che 
I  boast  of  having  overcome  this  chief  obstacle  on  the  hilly 
d  then  I  crawled  upche  longgrades  beyond  without  a  ballc, 
ndously  tired  when  1  got  10  the  point  where  I  could  coast 
e.  I  had  ridden  m  m.,  with  several  dismounts,  when  I 
at  the  hotel  in  Tarrytown ;  but,  as  the  track  had  proved 
:r  knew  it  to  be  before,  and  as  the  breeze  rather  favored  a 
:cided  to  attempt  the  exploit  of  wheeling  back  to  59th  st. 
mewbat  to  my  surprise  I  succeeded  in  so  doing,  between 
and  then,  though  my  ambition  was  accomplished,  and  the 
zling  down  through  the  darkness,  it  occurred  Co  me  that  I 
e  saddle  a  while  longer,  and  so  "beat  myrecord,"  made 

already  described.  tC  was  6.3S  p.  m.,  therefore,  when  I 
at  155th  St.,  where  I  had  started  at  9.Z0  A.  M,,  and  the 
:  this  "  longest  straight  ride  of  my  life  "  measured  2ij\  m., 
hesaddle  thirty-seven  minutes  longer  than  on  the  previous 
;ave  the  record  as  29  m.  In  the  four-column  account  o£ 
iumph,"  which  I  printed  in  The  Wheel  of  November  1 5,  I 
9  for  believing  that  the  real  distance  of  this  "  longest  ride  " 
ifty-ninlh  St.,  where  I  turned  back  on  my  course,  was  six 
inished,  and  my  "  straightaway  "  track  from  Tarrytown  was 
1.  long.     I  should  be  interested  in  hearing  of  other  wheel- 

a  similar  distance  straight  through  the  country  without 

ost  of  it,  so  solitary  that  I  do  not  know  whether  the  long 
have  just  described  would  be  accounted  very  creditable 
:quainted  with  the  track  gone  over ;  and  no  comments  on 
n  The  Wheel  have  appeared  for  my  enlightenment.  But  as 
cling  experiences,  the  only  thing  at  all  approaching  the 
oit  that  I  ever  definitely  set  myself  to  accomplish,  I  have 
my  success  to  venture  upon  a  full  description  of  it,  espe- 
ntention  of  ever  again  riding  continuously  for  four  mortal 
ean  by  this  that  I  suffered  any  particular  inconvenience 
got  through  an  average  amount  of  routine  literary  work 
he  day  after  that  I  refreshed  myself  by  31  m.  more  of 
simply,  that  I  generally  prefer  to  take  to  the  bicycle  "  for 


nor  — 


-*-       ----    ' *^^  ^^^ 


r    ^- 


re-  "S! 


*^^^^fc 


r_     -E"      C     - 


1-  :r 


"?e    zr- 


:    T 


ITE 


X    T-  .~^    r 


■w«^^^    *«^ 


MY  234  RIDES  ON  ''NO,  234."  53 

for  three  hours  and  a  quarter,  and  made  a  record  of  29  m.,  to  which  I  added 
16  m.  more  before  sundown. 

My  first  ride,  without  dismount,  from  New  York  to  Yonkers  (13  m.)  was 
made  May  10,  1882,  in  an  hour  and  forty  minutes.  My  stop  then  was  caused 
by  the  steep  pitch  of  a  few  rods  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  which  begins  beyond  the 
Getty  House  and  ascends  for  more  than  a  mile  in  the  direction  of  Tarrytown, 
and  those  few  rods  have  long  been  notorious  for  their  power  in  humbling  the 
pride  of  northward-bound  riders  from  the  metropolis.  On  the  7th  of  Novem- 
ber following,  however,  I  managed  for  the  first  time  to  array  myself  with  the 
noble  band  who  can  boast  of  having  overcome  this  chief  obstacle  on  the  hilly 
Tarrytown  track,  and  then  I  crawled  up  the  long  grades  beyond  without  a  balk, 
though  I  was  tremendously  tired  when  I  got  to  the  point  where  I  could  coast 
down  the  other  side.  I  had  ridden  22  m.,  with  several  dismounts,  when  I 
stopped  for  dinner  at  the  hotel  in  Tarrytown ;  but,  as  the  track  had  proved 
smoother  than  I  ever  knew  it  to  be  before,  and  as  the  breeze  rather  favored  a 
returning  rider,  I  decided  to  attempt  the  exploit  of  wheeling  back  to  59th  st. 
without  a  stop.  Somewhat  to  my  surprise  I  succeeded  in  so  doing,  between 
245  and  5.50  P.  M.,  and  then,  though  my  ambition  was  accomplished,  and  the 
rain-drops  were  drizzling  down  through  the  darkness,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I 
had  best  stick  to  the  saddle  a  while  longer,  and  so  "beat  my  record,"  made 
five  days  before,  as  already  described.  It  was  6.38  P.  M.,  therefore,  when  I 
finally  dismounted  at  155th  St.,  where  I  had  started  at  9.20  a.  m.,  and  the 
cyclometer  said  that  this  "  longest  straight  ride  of  my  life  "  measured  29^  m., 
though  I  had  kept  the  saddle  thirty-seven  minutes  longer  than  on  the  previous 
Thursday,  when  it  gave  the  record  as  29  m.  In  the  four-column  account  of 
this  "  Tarrytown  triumph,"  which  I  printed  in  The  Wheel  of  November  15,! 
offered  some  reasons  for  believing  that  the  real  distance  of  this  "  longest  ride  " 
was  31  or  32  m.  Fifty-ninth  St.,  where  I  turned  back  on  my  course,  was  six 
miles  from  where  I  finished,  and  my  "  straightaway  "  track  from  Tarrytown  was 
therefore  25  or  26  m.  long.  I  should  be  interested  in  hearing  of  other  wheel- 
men who  have  gone  a  similar  distance  straight  through  the  country  without 
leaving  their  saddles. 

My  riding  is,  most  of  it,  so  solitary  that  I  do  not  know  whether  the  long 
stay  in  the  saddle  I  have  just  described  would  be  accounted  very  creditable 
by  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  track  gone  over  ;  and  no  comments  on 
my  detailed  report  in  The  Wheel  have  appeared  for  my  enlightenment.  But  as 
it  is,  of  all  my  bicycling  experiences,  the  only  thing  at  all  approaching  the 
character  of  an  exploit  that  I  ever  definitely  set  myself  to  accomplish,  I  have 
felt  enough  pride  in  my  success  to  venture  upon  a  full  description  of  it,  espe- 
cially as  I  have  no  intention  of  ever  again  riding  continuously  for  four  mortal 
hours.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  I  suffered  any  particular  inconvenience 
from  the  test,  for  I  got  through  an  average  amount  of  routine  literary  work 
next  day,  and  on  the  day  after  that  I  refreshed  myself  by  31  m.  more  of 
wheeling.    I  mean,  simply,  that  I  generally  prefer  to  take  to  the  bicycle  "  for 


48  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

"  improvements  "  tha.t  have  come  into  vogue  during  recent  years,  and  to  in- 
telligently compare  the  new  with  the  old, — in  regard  to  durability  as  well  as 
in  regard  to  personal  comfort.  I  trust,  too,  that  the  new  Forty-Six  may  have 
the  power  of  the  old  one  for  mspiring  my  friend,  the  Small  Boy,  to  enliven  its 
pathway  with  outbursts  of  wit  and  humor.  Had  I  elected  to  ride  a  52-tncher, 
I  never  more  could  hope  to  hear  myself  designated  as  "  the  big  man  on  the  lit- 
tle bicycle."  On  the  morning  of  my  very  last  day  with  "  Number  234  " — wheti 
I  heard  the  children  cry  :  "  Oh,  see  the  little  bicycle  1  It 's  a  new  one  t  All 
silver  I" — I  felt  amply  repaid  for  my  years  of  industrious  polishing  on  the 
nickel  plate.  But  the  most  amusing  comment  was  reserved  for  the  afternoon. 
Within  a  half-mile  of  the  place  where  I  made  my  final  dismount,  the  happy 
captor  of  "  the  flrst  snake  of  spring  "  ceased  for  an  instant  to  pull  the  cord 
which  was  dragging  the  wriggling  reptile  along  the  walk ;  and  then  he  shouted 
after  me  :  "  There  goes  a  greenhorn  ! "    And  that  was  the  very  last  word. 

Addskduh,  April  L4,  iBSs . — Pilgrimt  to  the  mctropolit,  who  may  crave  the  pririTFcc  of 


vest  d[  Bnudway,  opposile  the  little  park  which  cantainithe  City  Hall  and  the  Cautl  House; 

the  iaa  thai  Ihe  lUtely  Post  Office  Building  forau  iU  Hiiilhem  boundary,  while  the  entnnce  to 
the  great  Brooklyn  Bridge  ia  upon  its  eaalcm  aide.  AI  the  doorway  of  the  salesroom,  BunnouDLv 
[ng  a  heap  of  Lnrnionellea^lo  which  are  attached  the  visiting-cards  of  Americans  greaiesE  warrion, 
statesmen  and  poets),  the  explorer  will  obocrve  a  placard,  bearing  the  following  legend  •- 

•"  Cot-atHKK,  Via.  ijf.'  This  machine,  which  was  mounted  for  the  first  time  by  Kari 
Kroci,  on  the  sglh  of  Hay,  iSt^  has  been  driTcn  by  him  a  disiaace  of  io,dSi  miles,  as  meamred 
by  Pope  cydomelcr,  his  final  ride  having  been  taken  on  Uie  r4fh  of  April,  rSS4.  In  making 
(his  record,  upwards  of  SpOOO  distinct  miles  of  Ameriian  roadway  have' been  traverved,  including 


■n  TTiorisand  Miles 

on  a  Bici 

icle.'    The  record  0 

(miles  for  each  of  the 

fiveyeir^  was  as  fol- 

s  :  .8,9,  first 

74s  miles 

:W,,  fifth  year.  3,5 

34  miles.    During  the 

ing  with  the 

■  llhol 

April,  tl 

j,S40  miles.    On  the  r 

lib  of  October,  iBS], 

m  Ihe  machit 

cord  of  S.iiS  miles, 

h  made  a  day's  record 

oi  <oo  miles  snaighu- 

Mhrough  Canada,  a 

.day  after  its  io,«. 

n  Stamford  H 

:.Ches 

hire.  Cor 

,n.(ssn,iles  of  hilly 

and  sandy  roads),  with 

,ina  period  of  twelve 

irs.      The    pr 

re  applied  to  the 

A  miles  In  s 

]  difle 

rent  Sm 

es  and  Provinces,  » 

«  while  on  the  road. 

days  of  actual  tiding. 

rsed  in  Canada,  ending 

:  at  Ogdensbuts).  this 

ighleenlh  of  the  entire  circumlerenc 

*  of  Ihe  globe.    This 

a  bicyele  h  any  part  , 

)f  theworid.andihe 

milea  before 

beginnhiglhei«imey- 

the  surface  < 
.he  Pacific  . 

1  put  in  type,  however 

,  the  dres  of  H»(her 

xsan  with  Ihe  Atlanti 

c.    BelLen  A^pril  >,' 

ushed  his  wh 

route  (for  he 

carried  no  cyclometer) 

as  3,700  mil"- 

VII. 

MY  234  RIDES  ON  "  NO.  234."* 

This  magazine  for  February  contained  a  chronological  report  of  my 
travels  during  "Four  Seasons  on  a  Forty-Six,"  and  the  March  issue  gave  a 
minute  description  of  the  manner  in  which  this  "Columbia  No.  234"  had 
stood  the  strain  thus  put  upon  it  in  being  pushed  upwards  of  6,000  m. 
through  fifteen  different  States.  It  remains  for  the  present  article  to  finish 
the  story,  by  making  exhibition  of  my  various  rides  and  riding  experiences,  so 
classed  together  according  to  character  as  to  be  most  significant  and  instruct- 
ive, and  also  by  offering  such  facts  about  my  personal  physique  and  habits 
of  life  as  may  be  deemed  helpful  to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  record. 
By  way  of  introductory  peace-offering,  I  may  venture  to  bring  out  this  modest 
little  triolet,  snatched  from  under  the  snows,  where  it  had  naturally  suffered  a 
stiffening  of  its  component  parts  : — 

Thottgh  my  rides  on  "  Two-Thirty-Four  " 

Are  by  no  means  monumental, 
Please  again  hear  some  more 
Of  my  rides,  just  two-thirty-four ; 
Please  don't  say,  "What  a  bore  I 

We  care  not  a  continental 
For  your  rides  on  '  Two-Thirty-Four,* — 

They're  by  no  means  monumental !  " 

When  I  finished  my  wheeling  for  1882,  on  the  evening  of  Saturday,  De- 
cember 30,— with  a  record  of  46  m.,  for  the  day,  2,002  m.,  for  the  year,  and 
6,175  m.,  for  the  four  years, — I  found  that  the  number  of  days  on  which  I  had 
mounted  the  wheel  was  "two  hundred  and  thirty-four,"  though  I  never 
noticed  the  coincidence  until  I  came  to  need  a  title  .for  the  present  article. 
On  40  of'  these  days  I  rode  between  30  and  40  m.,  on  27  I  rode  between  40 
and  50  m.,  on  14  I  rode  between  50  and  60  m.,  and  five  times  I  exceeded  the 
latter  distance, — my  longest  day's  ride  being  73  m.  If  I  exclude  the  rec- 
ord of  my  first  season  (742  m.,  distributed  among  47  days,  on  only  four  of 
which  did  my  riding  amount  to  as  much  as  30  m.),  it  will  be  seen  that  my  rec- 
ord during  the  three  years,  1880-82,  shows  5,433  m.,  on  187  days,  or  an  aver- 
age ride  of  just  29  m.  On  92  of  these  days,  or  about  half  of  all,  I  have 
ridden  30  m.  or  more,  as  above  specified ;  on  40  of  the  remainder  I  have  rid- 
den between  30  and  20m. ;  on  36  I  have  ridden  between  20  and  torn. ;  and  on 
the  remaining  19  days  my  record  has  been  less  than  that,  including  seven 

iprom  Th*  Whetlmamt  April,  1883,  pp.  56^. 

4 


48  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

"  improvements  "  that  have  come  into  vogue  during  recent  years,  and  to  in- 
telligently compare  the  new  with  the  old, — ^in  regard  to  durability  as  well  as 
in  regard  to  personal  comfort.  I  trust,  too,  that  the  new  Forty-Six  may  have 
the  power  of  the  old  one  for  inspiring  my  friend,  the  Small  Boy,  to  enliven  its 
pathway  with  outbursts  of  wit  and  humor.  Had  I  elected  to  ride  a  52-incher, 
I  never  more  could  hope  to  hear  myself  designated  as  "  the  big  man  on  the  lit- 
tle bicycle."  On  the  morning  of  my  very  last  day  with  "  Number  234  " — ^when 
I  heard  the  children  cry  :  "  Oh,  see  the  little  bicycle  I  It  *s  a  new  one  I  All 
silver!" — I  felt  amply  repaid  for  my  years  of  industrious  polishing  on  the 
nickel  plate.  But  the  most  amusing  comment  was  reserved  for  the  afternoon. 
Within  a  half-mile  of  the  place  where  I  made  my  final  dismount,  the  happy 
captor  of  "  the  first  snake  of  spring  "  ceased  for  an  instant  to  pull  the  cord 
which  was  dragging  the  wriggling  reptile  along  the  walk ;  and  then  he  shouted 
after  me  :  "  There  goes  a  greenhorn  ! "    And  that  was  the  very  last  word. 


Addbndum,  April  14,  1885. — Pilgrims  to  the  metropolis,  who  may  crave  the  privilege  of 
humbly  laying  their  wreaths  of  laurel  and  holm-oak  upon  the  venerated  head  of  the  subject  of 
this  chapter,  will  find  "  Number  234  "  standing  in  state,  in  the  show-window  of  the  Pope 
Manufacturing  Company's  city  office  and  salesroom,  at  No.  12  Warren  st.  This  is  a  few  rods 
west  of  Broadway,  opposite  the  little  park  which  contains  the  City  Hall  and  the  Court  House ; 
and  the  central  position  of  the  park  may  be  still  further  impressed  upon  the  stranger's  mind  by 
the  fact  that  the  stately  Post  Office  Building  forms  its  southern  boundary,  while  the  entrance  to 
the  great  Brooklyn  Bridge  is  upon  its  eastern  side.  At  the  doorway  of  the  salesroom,  surmount- 
ing a  heap  of  immortelles  (to  which  are  attached  the  visiting-cards  of  America's  greatest  warriors, 
statesmen  and  poets),  the  explorer  will  observe  a  placard,  bearing  the  following  legend  : 

"'Columbia,  No.  234.'  This  machine,  which  was  mounted  for  the  first  time  by  Kari 
Kron,  on  the  39th  of  May,  1879,  has  been  driven  by  him  a  distance  of  io,o8a  miles,  as  measured 
by  Pope  cyclometer,  his  final  ride  having  been  taken  on  the  14th  of  April,  1884.  In  making 
this  record,  upwards  of  5,000  distinct  miles  of  American  roadway  have*  been  traversed,  including 
i,ico  miles  in  the  British  Possessions.  Exact  descriptions  of  these  roads  will  be  published  in 
'  Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle.'  The  record  of  miles  for  each  of  the  five  years  was  as  fol- 
lows :  1879,  first  year,  742  miles;  1880,  second  year,  1,474  miles ;  1881,  third  year,  1,956  miles ; 
1882,  fourth  year,  2,003  miles;  18S3,  fifth  year,  3,534  miles.  During  the  final  twelve  months, 
ending  with  the  14th  of  April,  1884,  the  record  was  3,840  miles.  On  the  nth  of  October,  1883, 
when  the  machine  had  a  total  record  of  8,228  miles,  it  made  a  day's  record  of  xoo  miles  straighta- 
way through  Canada,  and  on  the  day  after  its  10,000  miles'  record  was  completed,  it  was  ridden 
from  Stamford  to  Cheshire,  Conn.  (55  miles  of  hilly  and  sandy  roads),  within  a  period  of  twelve 
hours.  The  present  tires  were  applied  to  the  rims  in  August,  x88o,  and  have  traversed 
8,608  miles  in  33  different  States  and  Provinces,  without  once  coming  loose  while  on  the  rxnd. 
Between  the  8th  of  October  and  the  23d  of  November,  1883  (embracing  36  days  of  actual  riding, 
during  the  first  14  of  which  635  miles  were  traversed  in  Canada,  ending  at  Ogdensburg),  this 
bicycle  was  driven  from  Detroit,  Mich.,  to  Staunton,  Va.,  making  a  continuous  straightaway 
trail  of  1,400  miles,  equivalent  to  one-eighteenth  of  the  entire  circumference  of  the  globe.  This 
is  by  far  the  longest  continuous  trail  yt\  reported  of  a  bicjrcle  in  any  part  of  the  world,  and  the 
tires  which  made  it  had  traversed  6,600  miles  before  beginning  the  journey." 

At  the  very  time  when  the  above  statement  was  put  in  type,  however,  the  tires  of  another 
Qolimbia  bicycle  were  tracing  upon  the  surface  of  this  continent  another  straightaway  trail, 
three  times  as  long,  connecting  the  Pacific  ocean  with  the  Atlantic.     Between  April  aa 
4, 1884,  Thomas  Stevens  pushed  his  wheel  every  rod  of  the  way  from  San  Frandsco 
Mlimating  the  length  of  his  route  (for  he  carried  no  cyclometer)  as  3,700  miles. 


VII. 

MY  234  RIDES  ON  "NO.  234."* 

This  magazine  for  February  contained  a  chronological  report  of  my 
travels  during  "Four  Seasons  on  a  Forty-Six,"  and  the  March  issue  gave  a 
minute  description  of  the  manner  in  which  this  "Columbia  No.  234"  had 
stood  the  strain  thus  put  upon  it  in  being  pushed  upwards  of  6,000  m. 
through  fifteen  different  States.  It  remains  for  the  present  article  to  finish 
the  story,  by  making  exhibition  of  my  various  rides  and  riding  experiences,  so 
classed  together  according  to  character  as  to  be  most  significant  and  instruct- 
ive, and  also  by  offering  such  facts  about  my  personal  physique  and  habits 
of  life  as  may  be  deemed  helpful  to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  record. 
By  way  of  introductory  peace-offering,  I  may  venture  to  bring  out  this  modest 
little  triolet,  snatched  from  under  the  snows,  where  it  had  naturally  suffered  a 
stiffening  of  its  component  parts  : — 

Though  my  rides  on  "Two-Thirty-Four" 

Are  by  no  means  monumental. 
Please  again  hear  some  more 
Of  my  rides,  just  two-thirty-four ; 
Please  don't  say,  "What  a  bore  I 

We  care  not  a  continental 
For  your  rides  on  '  Two-Thirty-Four,* — 

They're  by  no  means  monumental !  " 

When  I  finished  my  wheeling  for  1882,  on  the  evening  of  Saturday,  De- 
cember 30, — ^with  a  record  of  46  m.,  for  the  day,  2,002  m.,  for  the  year,  and 
6,175  m.,  for  the  four  years, — I  found  that  the  number  of  days  on  which  I  had 
mounted  the  wheel  was  "two  hundred  and  thirty-four,"  though  I  never 
noticed  the  coincidence  until  I  came  to  need  a  title  .for  the  present  article. 
On  40  of"  these  days  I  rode  between  30  and  40  m.,  on  27  I  rode  between  40 
and  50  m.,  on  14  I  rode  between  50  and  60  m.,  and  five  times  I  exceeded  the 
latter  distance, — my  longest  day's  ride  being  73  m.  If  I  exclude  the  rec- 
ord of  my  first  season  (742  m.,  distributed  among  47  days,  on  only  four  of 
which  did  my  riding  amount  to  as  much  as  30  m.),  it  will  be  seen  that  my  rec^ 
ord  during  the  three  years,  1880^2,  shows  5,433  m.,  on  187  days,  or  an  aver- 
age ride  of  just  29  m.  On  92  of  these  days,  or  about  half  of  all,  I  have 
ridden  30  m.  or  more,  as  above  specified ;  on  40  of  the  remainder  I  have  rid- 
den between  30  and  20  m. ;  on  36  I  have  ridden  between  20  and  10  m. ;  and  on 
the  remaining  19  days  my  record  has  been  less  than  that,  including  seven 

iFrom  The  Whetltnant  April,  1883,  pp.  56-66. 
4 


50 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  0.\ 


days  on  which  it  was  less  than  five  miles, — the  shu. . 
mile  and  a  quarter. 

My  first  definite  attempt  at  a  long  ride  was  m.i 
when  the  weather  chanced  to  be  extremely  hot. 
town  in  six  hours, — ending  a  half-hour  after  mid 
in  four  hours  and  a  half,  ending  at  7.30  o'clock  ]  .v. 
vard  until  9,  in  order  to  bring  my  day's  record  up  1 
this  until  the  17th  of  September  following,  on  the 
7  o'clock,  I  mounted  at  a  farm-house,  16  ro.  west 
hours  and  a  quarter  (i5m.)»  to  Silver  Creek,  wl 
breakfast;  then  12m.  more  (two  hours)  to  Fred*, 
hours  for  dinner;   at  Westfield,  15  m.  further,  I  ' 
o'clock ;  then  rode  another  15  m.  in  another  two  ho 
from  the  start  a  trifle  more  than  57  m.  in  a  trifle 
whereof  four  hours  had  been  given  to  rests.    As  mv 
House,  in  Erie,  about  16  m.  further  on,  and  as  the  r-- 
smooth  and  level,  and  the  moon  promised  occasio^^ 
walked  that  additional  distance  between  8  and  11.30  " 
ord  of  73  m.,  which  has  remained  my  "best"  ever  sip' 
with  me  rather  than  against  me  during  the  twelve  ' 
confident  I  should  have  covered  the  whole  distance  in 
third  of  the  interval  spent  in  repose ;  and  I  think,  im 
conditions,  I  could  ride  100 m.  straightaway  by  day)* 
really  exerted  myself  to  do  so.     Though  I  had  but  t 
night,  I  felt  sufficiently  fresh  next  day  to  ride  45  m.  fnr- 
tween  9.30  a.  m.  and  8  P.  M.,  making  118  m.  within  37  . 
since  then  have  I  made  a  better  record  for  two  days, 
better.    On  the  previous  day  I  had  ridden  from  Niaga. 
three  days  I  made  a  straight  push  of  156  m.  through  t 
different  States. 

The  nearest  approach  since  made  to  this  was  my  i  • 
Massachusetts,  on  the  .first  three  days  of  June,  188 1« 
133  m.  on  the  last  four  days  of  May,  and  penetrated 
Hampshire  and  Maine.    This  was  the  first  case  of  my  m. 
seven  successive  days,  and  the  record  of  287  m.  (where(..t 
the  final  37  hours)  still  remains  my  best  for  that  period, 
week  of  riding  was  just  a  year  later,  and  amounted  to  2? 
were  run  off  in  Chicago,  on  the  last  three  days  of  Mav. 
177  m.  in  a  straight  push  among  the  hills  of  Kentucky,  r>r 
of  June.    My  third  ride  of  a  week,  as  described  in  the  \  r 
magazine,  was  made  continuously  on  the  soil  of  New  Yor 
Waverly,  beginning  September  28,  and  covering  280  m.  t- 
and  ended  at  noon,  there  were  parts  of  eight  calendar  . . 
Next  to  these  records  must  be  ranked  my  six  days*  ride  t. 


^ 


52  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

with  my  legs  on  the  handle-bar,  and  I  kept  them  outside  my  hands  on  such 
occasions  for  more  than  three  months  afterwards,  or  until  August  9,  1880, 
when  I  first  acquired  the  knack  of  properly  placing  them  on  the  inside  sec- 
tion of  the  bar.  Just  four  months  from  the  day  last  named  I  thought  I 
accomplished  quite  a  feat  in  wheeling  without  stop  from  Washington  Square 
to  96th  St.,  through  Fifth  Avenue,  the  first  three  miles  of  which  are  paved 
with  Belgian  blocks.  I  have  never  since  **  rattled  over  the  stones  "  for  any- 
thing like  as  great  a  distance  as  that  continuously,  though  I  once  went  from 
the  Square,  down  Broadway  to  Fulton  Ferry,  making,  perhaps,  a  dozen  dis- 
mounts in  the  two  miles.  I  can  thus  claim  the  credit  of  pedaling  through  the 
whole  length  of  Manhattan  Island  in  the  roadway.  My  first  "  long  stay  "  in 
the  saddle  was  at  Orange,  on  May  Day,  i88o,  when,  except  for  one  moment- 
ary and  needless  dismount  for  an  imaginary  obstacle,  I  kept  a-going  just  an 
hour,  and  accomplished  eight  miles.  On  the  9th  of  August  following  I  did 
thirteen  miles  on  the  Boulevards  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  making  one  needless 
stop  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  that,  when  the  record  was  ten  miles  and  a 
half.  Five  days  later,  in  the  same  region,  when  the  roads  were  rather  muddy, 
I  rode  twelve  miles  without  stop  in  an  hour  and  three-quarters,  and,  except 
for  a  sudden  dismount,  caused  by  the  looming  up  of  a  wagon  in  the  dark, 
should  have  done  the  attempted  fourteen  miles  inside  of  two  hours.  My  first 
really  notable  "  stay "  in  the  saddle,  however,  was  made  a  month  later,  Sep- 
tember 16,  when,  "  mounting  at  the  canal  bridge  in  the  outskirts  of  the  village 
of  Niagara,  I  went  southward  without  stop  for  i6Jm.  in  two  hours  and  a  half, 
having  the  wind  against  me  all  the  way,  and  being  slightly  sprinkled  with 
rain  during  the  third  half -hour.  Most  of  the  road  is  of  very  hard  clay,  which 
was  rather  rough ;  and,  beyond  Tonawanda,  where  the  bridge  almost  caused 
a  dismount,  there  is  a  long,  but  not  very  steep,  hill,  which  is  the  only  grade  of 
importance  between  Niagara  and  Buffalo.  I  met  at  Black  Rock  with  rather 
rough  stone  pavements,  turned  an  angle  to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left, 
crossed  the  canal  bridge  with  difficulty,  and  was  then  tempted  to  try  the  side- 
walk, whose  curb  soon  caused  a  dismount.  Had  I  stuck  to  the  road  for  a 
few  rods  after  crossing  the  bridge,  and  then  turned  down  the  first  street  to 
the  left,  which  led  to  the  Lincoln  Parkway,  I  might  have  kept  on  without 
stop  for  three  and  a  half  miles  further,  to  the  Buffalo  City  Hall,  twenty  miles 
from  Niagara." 

My  next  "  long  stay  "  was  made  two  months  later,  November  22,  while 
trying  the  excellent  roads  in  the  region  of  Orange  and  Newark.  The  average 
temperature  of  that  day  was  19^,  which  proved  most  favorable  to  riding ;  for 
when  I  made  my  first  dismount,  to  keep  an  appointment  for  lunch  with  a 
friend,  I  found  I  was  not  at  all  tired,  though  I  had  been  in  the  saddle  two 
hours  and  twenty  minutes,  and  covered  just  20  m.  I  rode  25  m.  more  the  same 
afternoon.  I  did  not  better  this  20  m.  record,  or  even  approach  it,  for  nearly 
two  years.  Then,  on  the  2d  of  November,  1882,  over  the  same  superb  tracks 
and  with  atmospheric  conditions  similarly  favorable,  I  wheeled  without  sti^ 


My  234  RfDES  ON  "NO.  234."  53 

£or  three  hours  and  a  quarter,  and  nude  a  record  of  29  m.,  to  which  I  added 
16  m.  more  before  sundown. 

My  first  ride,  without  dismount,  Erom  New  York  to  Yonkers  (13  m.)  was 
made  Ma;  10,  iSSz,  in  an  hour  and  forty  minutes.  My  stop  then  was  caused 
by  the  steep  pitch  of  a  few  rods  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  which  begins  beyond  the 
Getty  House  and  ascends  for  more  than  a  mile  in  the  direction  of  Tarcytown, 
and  those  few  rods  have  long  been  notorious  for  their  power  in  humbling  the 
pride  of  northward-bound  riders  from  the  metropolis.  On  the  7th  of  Novem- 
ber following,  however,  I  managed  for  the  first  time  to  array  myself  with  the 
noble  band  who  can  boast  of  having  overcome  this  chief  obstacle  on  the  hilly 
Tarrytown  track.and  then  I  crawled  up  the  long  grades  beyond  without  a  balk, 
though  I  was  tremendously  tired  when  I  got  to  the  point  where  I  could  coast 
down  the  other  side.  I  had  ridden  21  m.,  with  several  dismounts,  when  I 
stopped  for  dinner  at  the  hotel  in  Tarrytown  ;  but,  as  the  track  had  proved 
smoother  than  I  ever  knew  it  to  be  before,  and  as  the  breeze  rather  favored  a 
returning  rider,  I  decided  to  attempt  the  exploit  of  wheeling  back  to  59th  st 
without  a  stop.  Somewhat  to  my  surprise  I  succeeded  in  so  doing,  lietween 
2.4s  and  5.50  P.  M.,  and  then,  though  my  ambition  was  accomplished,  and  the 
rain-drops  were  drizzling  down  through  the  darkness,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I 
liad  best  stick  to  the  saddle  a  while  longer,  and  so  "  beat  ray  record,"  made 
five  days  before,  as  already  described.  It  was  6.38  f.  m.,  therefore,  when  I 
finally  dismounted  at  155th  St.,  where  I  had  started  at  9.20  a.  m.,  and  the 
cyclometer  said  that  this  "  longest  straight  ride  of  my  life  "  measured  agj  m., 
though  I  had  kept  the  saddle  thirty-seven  minutes  longer  than  on  the  previous 
Thursday,  when  it  gave  the  record  as  39  m.  In  the  four-column  account  of 
this  "  Tarrytown  triumph,"  which  I  printed  in  Tht  Whttl  of  November  15,  I 
offered  some  reasons  for  believing  that  the  real  distance  of  this  "  longest  ride  " 
was  31  or  32  m.  Fifty-ninth  St.,  where  I  turned  back  on  my  course,  was  six 
tniles  from  where  I  finished,  and  my  "  straightaway  "  track  from  Tarrytown  was 
therefore  25  or  z6  m.  long,  f  should  be  interested  in  hearing  of  other  wheel- 
men who  have  gone  a  similar  distance  straight  through  the  country  without 
leaving  their  saddles. 


54 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCL 


the  fun  of  it,"  rather  than  for  the  sake  of  "  seeing  what  I  can 
one  achievement  of  this  sort  is  quite  enough  for  my  ambition, 
much  more  comfort  in  frequent  dismounts,  if  for  no  other  \ 
gratify  thirst,  that  I  lack  all  desire  for  further  "  triumphs  "  < 
that  the  pursuit  of  them  brings  into  painful  prominence  befoi 
justice  of  the  celebrated  remark  of  the  Governor  of  North  v 
Governor  of  South  Carolina. 

The  severest  test  ever  given  my  physique  by  bicycling,  h 
by  that  four  hours'  steady  push,  on  the  7th  of  last  Novembc 
an  all-day  jaunt  on  the  7th  of  September,   1881, — a  dat' 
atmospheric  annals  as  "  the  hottest  on  record  for  seven  yea 
Atlantic  slope.    "  In  many  places  the  thermometer  marked  . 
for  several  hours,  and,  as  I  rode  in  the  sun,  I  must  have  1 
heat  of  no®  to  125®  from  9  a.  m.  to  3  or  4  p.  M.     Between  ' 
mounted  at  Sayville,  and  7.05  P.  M.,  when  I  plunged  my  ' 
the  public  fountain  at  Flushing,  the  cyclometer  recorder! 
more  miles  were  added  between  the  ferry  and  Washington  ' 
was  the  only  one  of  my  experience  in  which  the  motion  t' 
phere  had  no  cooling  effect.    The  air  itself,  as  it  struck  a-.' 
seemed  blazing  hot,  as  if  literally  it  had  come  from  a  fur; 
afraid  to  estimate  the  amount  of  water  and  other  liquid^ 
that  day.    I  drank  at  every  possible  drinking-place,  and  I 
on  my  fiery  face  as  often  as  the  chance  was  offered  me. 
waiting  for  the  homeward  train,  I   refreshed  myself  \\ 
water,  melons,  peaches,  and  other  such  things,  which  the 
disbelieves  in  the  wisdom  of  obeying  Nature's  demands,  < 
indulgences  for  a*  man  who  is  unendurably  hot."    Perli 
rather  worse  idiot  than  the  average  for  venturing  to 
such  a  heated  condition ;   but  it  endured  the  test  with (< 
comfort,  and  without  any  subsequent  ill  effects.    I  shor. 
chosen  so  hot  a  day  for  a  spin  through  Long  Island ;  b 
home,  I  wanted  to  "  get  there,"  and,  though  the  heat  s' 
didn't  realize  until  I  read  the  next  day's  papers  that  it 
on  record  in  seven  years,"  and  that  I  had,  therefore,  ac* 
dangerous  and  foolhardy  feat  in  pushing  50  m.-  throug' 

I   have  not  had  many  serious  tumbles  since  th 
breaking  act  of  Thursday,  May  29,  1879.    The  only  t 
tionally  upset  was  in  November  of  that  year,  while  t( 
to  New  York,  when  a  bold,  bad  boy  at  Port  Chestei 
rear  wheel  and  sent  me  sprawling  into  the  dirt,  witho 
Perhaps  it  was  the  unexpectedness  of  the  fall  which 
less ;  and  I  have  charity  enough  to  believe  that  the 
rather  to  make  the  wheel  give  me  a  good  jolting  th 
Once,  on  the  Boulevard,  when  a  crowd  of  small  > 


56  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

going  down, — and  early  on  the  final  day  I  sprained  my  ankle  by  stepping  sud- 
denly down  on  a  loose  stone.  That  accident  came  nearer  disabling  me  than 
any  other  I  have  had ;  but,  after  a  few  hours  of  increasing  pain,  the  soreness 
at  last  wore  off.  On  the  second  day,  too,  by  the  loosening  of  its  step,  my 
bicycle  came  nearer  being  disabled  than  at  any  other  time  ;  for  it  must  be  re- 
membered that,  spite  of  all  the  wearing  out  of  its  parts,  or  the  accidents  which 
have  happened  to  them  at  various  times,  old  "  Number  234  "  has  never  once 
betrayed  me  by  breaking  down  in  regions  remote  from  possible  repairs,  or 
becoming  unridable  at  such  seasons  as  would  render  its  disablement  a  serious 
interference  with  my  plans.  On  the  same  unlucky  day  last  mentioned,  how- 
ever, I  let  it  drop  into  the  water,  while  trying  to  convey  it  and  myself  along  the 
slippery  log  which  spanned  the  "  waste-way  "  of  the  canal,  thereby  thoroughly 
soaking  the  roll  of  clothing  attached  to  the  handle-bar. 

On  May  Day,  1882,  while  coasting  down  the  hill  at  Bloomfield,  in  the  early 
twilight,  at  a  speed  of  six  or  seven  miles  an  hour,  a  stone  the  size  of  a  brick 
caused  the  front  wheel  to  stop  and  the  rear  wheel  to  describe  a  circuit  in  the 
air,  while  I  myself  gave  a  great  jump  ahead  and  landed  on  my  feet,  without 
even  a  tendency  to  fall  forwards.  My  theoretical  belief,  that  a  man  who  is 
forced  off  the  saddle  involuntarily  is  likely  to  suffer  the  least  detriment  if  he 
has  his  legs  thrown  over  the  handles,  was  thus  happily  confirmed.  Once 
since  then  I  have  been  thrown  to  the  ground  while  coasting,  as  a  result  of 
carelessness,  in  allowing  my  boot  to  catch  in  the  spokes.  The  only  involun- 
tary dismounts  for  which  the  machine  itself  has  been  to  blame  have  been 
caused  by  the  sudden  stoppage  of  the  rear  wheel,  for  lack  of  sufficient  oil  on 
the  cones.  The  cones  of  my  right  pedal  stuck  once,  in  June,  1880,  when 
my  record  was  950  m. ;  but  I  was  not  thrown  off,  and  the  accident  has  not 
been  rep>eated.  I  never  yet  caused  a  stoppage,  or  even  an  approach  to  one, 
by  too  sharp  an  application  of  the  brake  to  the  front  wheel ;  and  I  cannot 
understand  why  a  reasonably  careful  rider  should  ever  come  to  grief  in  that 
way.  I  have  sometimes  been  run  away  with  in  descending  steep  hills,  and 
have  felt  that  my  rear  wheel  was  in  the  air,  and  have  feared  that  my  involun- 
tary experience  as  a  "  unicycler "  was  about  to  come  to  a  disastrous,  if  not 
fatal,  termination;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  have  never  been  thrown  in  any 
such  critical  times,  and  almost  all  my  tumbles  have  happened  when  I  have 
been  moving  rather  slowly  over  sections  of  road  whose  difficulties  and  dangers 
were  qujte  apparent  to  me.  I  have  never  had  a  fall  in  the  night-time,  though 
I  should  say,  at  a  guess,  that  I  may  have  ridden  from  300  to  400  m.  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  without  a  lantern.  Another  guess  which  I  venture  to  offer  with 
more  confidence  is,  that  though  during  my  first  1,000  m.  I  may  have  had  as  many 
as  20  or  25  falls,  I  have  not  by  any  means  approached  that  number  in  the 
5,000  m.  since  traversed.  The  fact  is,  I  can't  afford  to  take  the  chances  of 
further  tumbling ;  so,  in  cases  of  doubt,  I  almost  always  stop. 

As  regards  other  perils  of  the  road,  I  may  say  that  before  I  had  covered 
1 50  m.,  and  before  my  cyclometer  had  been  three  days  on  its  axle,  I  was 


My  Z34  RIDES  ON  "NO.  234."  57 

attacked,  while  bending  over  to  read  it,  by  three  drunken  men,  who  drove 
dose  by  me  in  a  carriage,  and  one  of  whom  gave  me  a  vicious  cut  with  the 
whip,  which  my  straw  hat  chanced  to  ward  off,  but  which  might  easily  have 
put  out  an  eye,  or  caused  other  lasting  disfigurement.  Once  or  twice,  too, 
drunken  drivers  have  attempted  to  run  me  down  from  behind,  though  never 
very  persistently,  nor  with  near  approximation  to  success.  On  a  few  occa- 
sions, also,  drivers  have  wantonly  forced  a  dismount  by  refusing  to  yield  an 
inch  of  the  track  in  approaching, — the  most  eiasperating  inslance  which  I 
recall  being  that  of  the  rufliian  who  directed  one  of  the  four-horse  coaches  of 
a  hotel  at  Lake  George,  On  Staten  Island,  last  September,  T  got  a  tumble 
in  trying  to  curve  too  sharply  around  a  wagon,  just  ahead,  whose  driver 
"slowed  up "  suddenly,  though  not  maliciously.  I  never  yet  caused  a  run- 
away, and  my  most  serious  troubles  with  horses  were  in  the  cases  of  two 
sedate  old  "plugs,"  one  in  Connecticut  and  one  in  Western  New  Vorit, 
which  were  driven  by  women,  who  persisted  in  "  hauling  Ihem  in,"  until,  in 
the  former  case,  a  wheel  was  cramped  off,  and  in  the  Ultcr  the  vehicle  was 
made  to  describe  one  or  two  complete  backward  revolutions,  but  without 
hurting  anything.  I  never  met  but  two  horses  that  seemed  thoroughly  fright- 
ened at  the  bicycle,  though  it  is,  perhaps,  not  unreasonable  to  assume  that 
"Number  234"  has  encountered  as  many  as  half  a  million  of  them.  Both  of 
these  were  fancy  nags, — one  in  Ohio,  the  other  at  Ticonderoga, — whose 
drivers,  being  possessed  wilh  a  vain  pride  in  their  ability  to  control  them, 
ordered  me  10  "  come  on,"  without  dismounting.  Had  I  done  so  there  would 
surely  have  been  two  wrecked  "trotting  sulkies  "and  two  dead  or  demoral- 
ized horse-jockeys  "laid  out  "on  those  two  occasions.  After  causing  the  first 
pair  of  mules  which  I  faced  on  the  Erie  Canal  lo  wheel  about  and  kick  (heir 
driver  down  a  thirty-foot  embankment,  I  took  no  further  chances  of  that  sort 
on  the  tow-path;  and  I  likewise  generally  dismounted  before  the  horseback 
riders  in  Kentucky,  whose  half-broken  steeds  seemed  only  too  giad  of  a 
chance  to  shy  at  any  moving  object  whatever. 

Having  had  two  or  three  india-rubber  drinking-cups  shaken  from  my 
pockets,  I  now  content   myself  with  a  short  piece  of   india-rubber   tubing, 
which  costs  less,  stays  by  me  more  faithfully,  and  furnishes  an  easier  means 
of  drinking  from  the  wayside  rivulets.     The  chief  advantage  in  carrying  a  cup, 
indeed,  is  to  supply  the  usual  lack  of  such  an  article  in  the  bed-rooms  of 
country  hotels.     Still  another  "  peril  of  the  road,"  which  my  experience  may 
give  warning  of,  is  the  smashing  of  the  glass  face  of  the  cyclometer  by  the 
slipping  of  a  wrench  from  the  hi 
•il-can  stolen  from  a  Brooklyn  b 
presence  of  my  wheel,  and  a  mc 
Harlem,  under  similar  conditior 
was  on  the  point  of  selling  my  it 
exact  day  specified,  he  concludet 
ke  was  only  waiting  for  an  advai 


58  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

of  $50.  Nobly  contrasted  with  this  seems  the  conduct  of  the  honest  boy  who 
sold  soda-water  at  Farmingdale,  on  Long  Island,  and  who,  when  I  inadvert- 
ently left  on  his  counter  a  purse  containing  $15,  harnessed  his  horse  to  pur- 
sue me  and  restore  the  property. 

My  response  to  the  stereotyped  question  of  the  average  spectator,  "  How 
fast  can  you  go  on  that  thing  ? "  has  always  been :  "  I  don't  know,  because  I 
never  tried."  The  only  time  when  I  was  on  a  regularly  measured  course 
was  September  14,  1880,  when  I  had  a  friend  hold  a  watch  for  me  while  I 
went  twice,  without  stop,  around  the  half-mile  trotting-track  at  Canandaigua, 
making  the  first  half  in  2m.  20s.,  and  the  second  half  in  2m.  1 5s.  From  this 
I  infer  that,  on  a  good  track,  I  might,  by  exerting  myself,  make  a  mile  inside 
of  four  minutes ;  but  I  hardly  suppose  that  I  ever  shall  in  fact  make  any 
such  exertion,  or  insure  any  such  brilliant  "  record."  Six  days  after  the  date 
last  named,  I  rode  from  Erie  to  Dunkirk,  47  m.,  under  very  favorable  condi- 
tions of  wind  and  weather,  in  seven  hours  and  a  half,  including  rests  of  two 
hours.  I  was  stopped  by  the  hill  at  Westfield,  at  2.30  p.  m.,  that  day,  after 
riding  exactly  an  hour,  at  the  middle  of  which  I  had  made  a  minute's  stop  on 
account  of  a  horse.  The  record  of  that  hour  was  eleven  miles  and  an  eighth, 
of  which  six  miles  belonged  to  the  last  half.  I  think  I  had  no  swifter  day  on 
my  record  until  December  21,  1881,  when  I  rode  just  50  m.  in  the  seven 
hours  ending  at  5  p.  m.,  and  when  I  estimated  my  actual  riding  time  as  hardly 
more  than  five  hours.  That  track,  however,  was  in  the  region  of  Orange,  and 
included  many  repetitions,  instead  of  extending  "  straight  through  the  coun- 
try." I  added  ten  miles  to  it  before  stopping  for  the  night,  and  the  year.  I 
believe  that  the  swiftest  short  spin  of  my  experience,  however,  was  that 
recorded  on  the  last  day  of  my  Kentucky  tour,  seven  miles  in  twenty-six  min- 
utes, ending  with  a  famous  coast  of  a  mile  down  an  open  winding  road. 

Almost  all  of  my  340  m.  within  the  limits  of  that  State  were  either  on 
an  up-grade  or  a  down-grade ;  and  I  did  some  hill-climbing  that  really  sur- 
prised me,  though  none  that  I  think  quite  as  creditable  as  my  November  ex- 
ploit at  Yonkers.  The  big  hill  at  Milton  Lower  Falls,  which  Boston  riders 
know  so  well,  has  been  ridden  up  by  me  both  ways.  On  the  28th  of  October 
last  I  rode  without  stop  from  the  cross-roads  beyond  Caldwell  to  the  end  of 
the  smooth  pavement  of  Bloomfield  avenue,  in  Newark,  nine  miles  and  a  half, 
in  just  an  hour, — ^that  being  the  first  occasion  on  which  I  had  succeeded  in 
conquering  the  big  hill  at  Caldwell,  though  I  had  more  than  once  ridden  all 
the  grades  leading  to  Caldwell, — and  I  look  on  that  as  one  of  my  most  credit- 
able mounts.  I  recall  three  other  occasions  on  which  my  prowess  as  a 
"  hillian  "  greatly  surprised  me  :  once,  in  1880,  in  surviving  a  steep,  roughly 
macadamized  slope  between  Newtown  ana  Hunter's  Point;  once,  in  1881, 
when  I  pushed  up  the  smooth,  black  surface  of  the  misnamed  Sandy  HiU  at 
Fort  Edward ;  and  again,  on  the  first  day  of  last  October,  when  I  ?*r^Bdp1 
the  sharp  grade  at  Mount  Morris,  and  earned  my  right  to  a  hearty  \3/r  *^ 
at  the  Scoville  House  oft  top.    I  remember,  to  be  sure,  that  a  Fort 


6o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

if  not  temporary  disablement,  and  that  a  week's  tour  of  say  280  m.  would  be 
either  impossible  of  accomplishment,  or  else  prove  a  painful  and  diflScult  task, 
instead  of  an  exhilarating  pleasure.  I  am  aware  that  the  mere  strain  of  pull- 
ing off  one's  boots  by  pressure  against  the  heels  may  sometimes  slightly  cramp 
the  calves,  even  when  the  legs  have  been  in  no  way  strained  or  tired  by 
previous  exertion ;  and  these  same  twinges  of  cramp  have  also  come  to  me 
on  certain  rare  occasions  when  pushing  my  46-inch  wheel  towards  the  sum- 
mits of  long  and  wearisome  hills.  But,  at  the  close  of  my  longest  and  m^st 
difficult  rides  on  "  Number  234,"  I  never  yet  had  any  feeling  of  cramp  6r 
muscular  stiffness,  save  of  the  slightest  and  most  transitory  description; 
and  hence  the  fact  that  both  of  my  two  short  and  easy  rides  on  larger  wheels 
brought  contrary  results  cannot  be  accepted  by  me  as  devoid  of  significance, — 
even  when  I  remember  that  on  each  occasion  I  chanced  to  be  "  out  of  prac- 
tice "  as  a  rider.  The  general  inference  which  I  drew  from  the  experience 
was  this :  that  whatever  may  be  said  for  large  wheels  in  racing  or  in  riding 
short  distances  on  smooth  roads,  a  wheel  small  enough  to  prevent  the  cords 
and  muscles  of  the  legs  from  ever  being  stretched  to  their  full  tension  is  the 
one  best  adapted  for  ordinary  rough-riding  and  long-distance  touring. . 

Aside  from  this  direct  tendency  towards  physical  discomfort  and  injury, 
which  I  think  attaches  to  prolonged  use  of  a  wheel  so  high  that  its  rider  is 
forced  habitually  to  "  point  his  toes  downward,"  instead  of  keeping  the  en- 
tire sole  of  his  foot  flat  on  a  plane  parallel  to  the  surface  of  the  ground,  there 
are  indirect  dangers  which  threaten  the  tourist  who  has  only  a  slight  grip  on 
the  pedal.  One  of  these  is  the  danger  of  falls  caused  by  the  feet  slipping 
from  the  pedals,— especially  in  wet  weather,  and  while  climbing  hills.  Many 
a  time  when  the  soles  of  my  boots  have  been  smeared  with  greasy  mud  on 
slippery  days,  I  have  worked  my  way  up-hill  with  the  pedals  of  my  six-inch 
cranks  resting  on  my  insteps ;  and,  in  general,  whenever  my  toe  loses  hold 
of  a  pedal,  my  heel  is  almost  certain  to  regain  the  hold.  I  have  ridden  many 
miles  under  conditions  which  made  the  pedals  so  slippery  that  I  doubt  if  any 
rider  who  depended  upon  a  "  toe-grip  "  could  have  kept  alongside  without  a 
tremendous  expenditure  of  energy,  and  without  undergoing  continuous  tum- 
bles. Then,  again,  on  an  all-day  ride  of  40  or  50  m.,  through  a  rough  coun- 
try, where  frequent  dismounts  are  necessary,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  aggre- 
gate increase  of  effort  required  in  continually  climbing  into  a  high  saddle 
rather  than  a  low  one  would  be  enough  to  make  all  the  difference  between 
relaxation  and  weariness, — ^between  happiness  and  misery.  Still  further,  the 
ease  of  mounting  which  a  low  step  insures  is  an  element  of  safety  in  this 
way :  it  disposes  a  rider,  in  cases  of  doubt  about  his  ability  to  overcome  an 
obstacle,  to  dismount  before  it,  rather  than  to  plough  recklessly  ahead  and 
take  his  chances  of  a  tumble.  A  small  machine  has  the  incidental  advantage 
of  weighing  less,  and  taking  up  less  room,  and  I  have  a  theory  that  it  is  apt 
to  be  stronger  and  less  liable  to  injury  than  a  larger  one.  Mine,  certainly, 
has  stood  the  severest  strains  on  its  rims  without  **  buckling  "  or  bulging  at 


MY  234  RIDES  ON  ''NO,  234."  61 

all  out  of  the  true.  Finally,  a  small  machine  seems  unusual  and  distinctive ; 
for,  out  of  the  hundreds  which  took  part  in  the  parade  at  Chicago,  "  Number 
234  "  was  the  only  one  that  did  not  exceed  forty-six  inches  in  height  1 

I  assume  myself  to  be  simply  "  an  average  man ''  as  regards  physique.  I 
have  never  made  any  pretense  at  being  an  athlete, — much  less  have  I  ever 
thought  of  entering  any  kind  of  athletic  competition.  The  only  tests  of 
endurance  connected  with  my  academy  life, — 1862-5, — which  I  now  recall  as 
having  warmed  my  pride,  were  these :  I  once  shouldered  a  regulation  army 
musket  on  a  march  of  six  miles  with  the  "  home  guard  " ;  I  once  skated  a 
dozen  miles  straightaway  on  the  snow-crust ;  I  once  walked  25  m.  in  a  day ;  and 
I  once  split  a  cord  of  walnut  wood  and  lugged  it  in  my  arms  up  four  flights  of 
stairs.  During  the  four  following  years  of  my  college  career  I  took  two  or 
three  20  m.  walks,  swam  half  a  mile  on  two  or  three  occasions,  and  became  the 
most  persistent  patron  of  the  bone-shaker  in  my  class  during  the  three  months' 
prevalence  of  the  velocipedic  furor.  In  October,  1874,  with  the  assistance  of 
a  classmate,  I  rowed  a  lap-streak  boat  from  Springfield  down  the  Connecticut 
River  and  around  the  Sound  to  New  Haven,  in  three  days, — the  distance  be- 
ing estimated  at  from  125  to  140  m., — ^and  the  exertion  cost  me  nothing  more 
than  a  temporary  soreness  and  stiffness,  though  my  companion  suffered  seri- 
ous detriment.  On  the  23d  of  June,  1875,  as  the  final  act  of  a  tour  among  the 
White  Mountains,  I  went  on  foot  from  the  Flume  to  Littleton,  a  distance  of  15 
or  16  m.,  whereof  I  ran  the  last  five  or  six  under  a  blazing  sun,  "  in  order  to 
catch  the  three-o'clock  train,'*  whose  approaching  whistle  inspired  me  to  put 
in  a  tremendous  spurt  on  the  last  half-mile.  That  was  my  first  and  only  "  long- 
distance race  "  against  a  locomotive  engine ;  but  I  won.  Though  born  and 
brought  up  on  a  farm,  where  horses  were  always  within  my  reach,  I  never 
learned  to  ride  horseback,  and  never  cared  particularly  about  driving. 

I  used  to  consider  myself  a  tolerably  expert  "  dodger  "  in  the  game  of 
prisoner's  base,  which  had  great  vogue  at  the  academy ;  and  I  believe  I  have 
never  since  engaged  in  any  athletic  pastime  which  could  not  be  practiced 
solitarily.  I  was  a  regular  patron  of  the  gymnasium,  both  at  the  academy  and 
at  college  ;  and,  during  the  fourteen  years  since  then,  my  usual  morning  cus- 
tom, except  on  days  when  more  extensive  exercise  was  impending,  has  been 
to  swing  the  Indian  clubs  for  a  quarter-hour  after  taking  a  cold-water  bath. 
The  latter  practice  has  been  persisted  in  by  me  for  some  eighteen  years  as  my 
inevitable  first  act  after  getting  out  of  bed ;  and  not  even  the  mornings  of  my 
four  voyages  across  the  stormy  ocean  were  allowed  to  be  exceptions  to  the 
rule.  A  bath  and  change  of  clothes  are  also  my  first  demand  at  the  end  of  a 
day  of  bicycling.  Food  is  always  made  a  secondary  consideration,  then,  with 
me,  no  matter  how  sharp  my  appetite.  Indeed,  I  can  abstain  from  food  for  a 
great  many  hours,  whether  I  am  engaged  in  driving  the  wheel  or  driving  the 
pen,  without  suffering  any  special  inconvenience ;  and  a  rule  which  obliged 
me  to  **  take  my  meals  at  regular  hours  "  would  exasperate  me  to  the  last 
degree.    For  many  years  my  simple  and  savage  oustom  has  been  to  "eat 


^5  r£X  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

>^hcn  I  WAS  hungr}V*  or  when  food  was  conveniently  accessible,  whether  once, 
t«k^«  thrice,  or  four  times  a  day,  whether  at  daybreak  or  at  midnight  That 
lhi>  vvurse  should  be  pursued  without  prejudice  to  health  is,  perhaps,  due  to 
mv  profound  faith  in  the  first  Latin  maxim  ever  given  me  to  construe: 
/^«»,.c  ;>fmJ$mktntHm  ist  <*pHmum,  **  A  good  appetite  "  has,  indeed,  always 
b<^i\  with  me,  and  I  have  never  doubted  that  it  was  "  the  best  sauce.**  I  have 
»<\1^r  spoiled  it  by  making  trial  of  tobacco  or  fire-water,  or  highly  spiced 
\(vxhc9^  I  hA\*e  not  even  tasted  tea  or  coffee  since  I  was  a  boy  of  fifteen. 
\^thc)\\Ue  1  am  omnivorous,  and  take  with  a  relish,  and  with  sure  digestion, 
aU  xvHi*  1^*  CAtablcs, — flesh,  fish,  fowl,  vegetables,  or  fruit, — ^which  are  ever 
4nN  x>  h<-re  i^triHi  for  human  consumption,  provided,  of  course,  that  they  have 
w>vi  t<1^tt  d^Kiored  with  pepper  or  other  fiery  sauces. 

)V)hA)Vi  the  foregoing  explains  why  I  never  feel  the  need  of  *' going  into 
t)AU\u\^  "  l\H  A  tour,    I  am  alwa^'s  "  in  training."    I  am  always  in  condition 
t\^  <'uv,N\  A  \UyVji  ride  of  forty  miles  on  a  bicycle,  even  though  I  may  not  have 
mNH\n;\\i  ^t  t\xr  inw^tKs*    I  sometimes  have  occasion  to  laugh  on  being  told  of 
)\s^S<^  x^hiv  mUuke  me  for  an  invalid,  on  account  of  the  lack  of  ruddy  color 
^^  u\\  tAsX  i  tW,  m  reality,  I  have  been  exceptionally  lucky  in  avoiding  all 
xV-^svAvK  h>  st'iious  illness  since  my  early  childhood.    During  a  period  of 
wu\^\*  th,^i\  t>»"c«tv  war*,  ending  with  the  last  week  of  the  summer  of  '82, 1 
«n'\v^  NX  a*  K\M^h\^<\l  l\>  my  l^  by  illness,  I  never  swallowed  any  medicine, 
A'^)  \  uowi   A>^W<\1  Aiivicf  of  any  physician.    An  attack  of  chills  and  fever 
y\  V  >v>Vs*iu»  *Km»Mir*s,  \\t  my  neglect  of  bicycling  during  the  two  months  pre- 
N'o^x*  thv^^x  Uvj\x\l  me  t\vr  the  first  time  to  strike  the  flag  to  Fate,  and  enter 
^'■«  Nxvx\vuA*,  txM  A  wt^k**  d\>*ing  with  quinine.     Nevertheless,  within  three 
\x>vk»  aUc^wauK  I  MAitf\l  lorth  on  my  pleasant  autiunn  tour  of  400m.,  and 
«vv  \N\\»n\xUM  \M  mv  iUws*  kept  me  company.     Since  then,  however,  I  have 
\^s^  sNsI  xSaI  tV  MxAiu  \>f  hv^lding  the  handle-bar  for  40  or  50  m.  is  sufficient  to 
In 'w  si  WW  \Nt  th^'  xr<^Ak^^es*  in  mv  left  elbow,  caused  by  dislocating  it  on  the 
sSn  *xsv^x  \N<  m\  t^txt  i^.sr.xt  in  tS^tx  though  in  the  three  years  which  elapsed 
K*\sns»\  \SAt  V'W^m  AWvl  the  Attack  t>f  fever  the  existence  of  such  weakness 

*»  V  XI  ^tv^^HHvt  vX  w\  KASit*  anil  beliefs  in  regard  to  drinking  while  on 
;^>.^  vs^^v-  V%x  N,v>^  ^v^xs-ntsi  K»  the  end,  for  the  sake  of  emphasis.  My  prac- 
V'n^  vx  h  ^^  ^Nst  xK>A^K^  v>C  the  teachings  of  ""that  eminent  London  writer, 
K-\v*  H  ^ii  \\  A>Ni  Ks  Vmv\v>*v  M.  l^^  R  R.  S^"  in  his  "  rules  for  health  in  tri- 
s\s.  V,  '  ,%^  »N  i^^'^^Nsi  tu>4W  i>\v  *r,*wiii  TV  IVkteUman  for  January.  My 
wv  .^s,  ^v  ^^  '^»  t<xt  ns^a^^  *'>^x  tv^  the  Si».^iemft  warnings  of  all  the  other  eminent 
vu^x»  >  ^v^MV4^  lu^^k  \  tv*  A  *iK>*e  p^v^vu^ged  contemplation  of  the  needs  of 
\Sv  *^.*'u.^u  Ks^  ^u  tx  lOu^B^v^  ^>»  vi^seAse  has  robbed  them  of  the  vision  which 
^u^Vvo^  \.V  v»'»'XvsA'x;sNAKs^  >AVA$t  tv^  cleariv  see  its  needs  in  a  state  of 
ljw>v*iw  \k\  vvi.u^NV  ^  ^''  v^'^»k  t>e^*Y*  ftequentlr,  unstintedly  I  How  else 
s.i  *  \  uk^u,,  N^  Vv  ^^vv^t'*  AX  v\v^nv*.v:y  a»  1  vk\  preserve  his  comfort,  or  rightly 
kv^o'  ^A^  hx  wiu.v*v%tx*tv  *    ^>^'t^>^A^tr  always  excepted,  I  eagerly  imbibe 


6a  TEN  THOUSAND  MIL 

when  I  was  hungry,"  or  when  food  was  ■ 
twice,  thrice,  or  four  times  a  day,  whei 
this  course  should  be  pursued  without 
my  profound  faith   in  the   first   Latii 
Fame!  condimerUum  est  optinatm.     "  -■ 
been  with  me,  and  I  have  never  doubt- 
never   spoiled  it  by  making  trial  of 
dishes.     I  have  not  even  lasted  tea 
Otherwise  I  am  omnivorous,  and  t^ii 
all  sorts  of  eatables, — fiesh,  fish,  i 
anywhere  offered  for  human  consul 
not  been  doclored  with  pepper  or  ■ 
Perhaps  the  foregoing  explain 
trabing  "  for  a  tour.     I  am  alway  ^ 

to  enjoy  a  day's  ride  of  forty  mil' 
mounted  it  for  months.    I  some 
people  who  mistake  rae  for  an  i 
in  my  face ;  for,  in  reality,  I  \>- 
approach  to  serious  illness  sir- 
more  than  twenty  years,  endin 
never  was  confined  to  my  bee! 
and  I  never  asked  advice  of  n 
(the  penalty,  doubtless,  of  my  i 
vious)  then  forced  me  for  the  ■ 
his  hospital  for  a  week's  du' 
weeks  afterwards,  I  started  u 
no  reminder  of  my  illness  kv 
noticed  that  the  strain  of  inn 
remind  me  of  the  weakncia 
occasion  of  my  first  mouin 
between  that  event  and   \i\ 
;e  suggesteti  l- 


^cer  <rf  Uie  woritt  as  the 

■"■«=^  ««>ds  a.  tht  liwd  ol 

■— »«*  s«ct  in  America,  as 

«   i"«iiDe  streiches  tranV 

for  siMod-a-half  miles,  w 

ending  where  a 

."bout  a  mile  below 

I^fc.  whose  eastern 

Double  that  dkUnce 

;   jc  ^-aik  *aii  tl"*  southern   terminus 

^ijjieiitae  Battery;  and  Washine- 

^.a-.    *«  the  26.500  ,„^^^_^ 

-,  j)«piwe  Manhattan  Island,  which 

,^„.«s  ia  breadth  from  a  fe„  hundred 

^  juies  at  «<d>  St-     I*s  breadth  is  but 

^,r  mt.4thst.;  while  for  the  last 

,  taeiefwo  of  Washington   Heights) 

,  Am  1  ™le  in  width.      It  w^   ^. 

g  iron.  -Jk  sooth  point  northward  and 

«i :.«« foo.  or  five  miles,  culminating 

promontory 

■''  '"   simpiv 


The 


of  n 


the  road  has  been  reserMj 
tice  is  in  direct  defiance 
Benjamin  Ward  Richar-' 
cycling,"  as  reprinted  i; 
practice  is  in  flat  oppn- 
medicine-men,  from  A  ' 
the  human  body  in  its  , 
enables  the  unsophisi 
health.    My  practice  ■ 
can  a  man,  who  sweat- 
regulate   his  temper^! 


and  in  a  bold 
Tbe  East  River,  which 
"I.,LLtaie»  Hr  from  Long  Island,   on  tne  east  - 
"^  ilirieinKfcrand  Spuyten  Huyvil  Cre  k' 
"  LiDci  ■''  '»n**^*"'  "^^'^  ^^  Hudson)  sf 
:^e.  .0  tte  ««h ;  while  the  great  «ud.^t 
^,  sep^tes  it  from  the  State  of     mJ" 
'  jm  lie.  the  bat.  beyond  which,  distant  half 
"  ^taten  tsl^i  '""'^  ewtemmost  poi„. 
■  -  le  wes«enw«»'  I>o">t  of  Long  Isla„j       ^ 
-■• -fr^  >-c  VorL  Harbor  and  the  Zx^ 
"'  ^^«»be™  at  the  Battery  (by  th    A*""'^ 


66  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

not."  Thus,  loi  East  soth  st.  is  the  first  door  east  of  4th  av. ;  201  East  50th 
St.  is  the  first  east  of  3d  av. ;  loi  West  50th  st.  is  the  first  door  west  of  6th 
av. ;  201  West  50th  st.  is  the  first  west  of  7  th  av.,  and  so  on.  The  higher  the 
number,  the  further  the  distance  from  Fifth  Avenue,  the  nearer  the  approach 
to  the  waterside,  and,  usually,  the  poorer  the  character  of  the  house.  East  of 
First  Avenue  may  be  found  Avenue  A ;  and,  in  the  lower  part  of  the  system, 
also  Avenues  B,  C,  and  D ;  while  Eleventh  Avenue  is  on  the  extreme  west 
side.  To  accredit  a  man  with  residence  upon  any  of  these  is  to  announce 
him  as  far  removed  from  the  world  of  society  and  fashion.  Broadway,  the 
longest  thoroughfare  of  the  island,  extends  in  a  straight  line  from  the  Battery 
to  Grace  Church  (loth  st.),  in  a  direction  nearly  parallel  to  that  of  the  ave- 
nues ;  but  it  then  takes  a  diagonal  course  to  the  westward,  crossing  5th  av, 
at  23d  St.,  6th  av.  at  34th  st.,  7th  av.  at  44th  St.,  8th  av.  at  59th  st.  (the  south- 
west corner  of  Central  Park),  9th  av.  at  64th  st.,  loth  av.  at  70th  st. ;  and  at 
io6th  St.  it  enters  nth  av.,  whose  identity  there  becomes  merged  in  it 
Broadway  above  59th  st.  is  known  as  the  Boulevard,  and  is  laid  out  with  two 
wide  road-beds,  separated  by  small  parks  of  grass  and  trees  in  the  center, 
as  far  as  125th  st.  It  continues  of  extraordinary  width  for  two  miles  above 
that,  or  until  it  joins  the  Kingsbridge  road  at  170th  st.,  and  trees  are  regu- 
larly ranged  along  each  of  its  sides.  Above  Kingsbridge,  it  is  again  Broadway. 
Below  Central  Park  (S9th  St.),  the  island  is  so  completely  covered  with 
buildings  that  such  of  its  original  inequalities  of  surface  as  have  not  been 
graded  out  of  existence  are  practically  hidden  or  forgotten.  A  resident 
habitually  thinks  of  the  city  as  flat,  though  considerable  hills  and  depressions 
may  be  found  on  both  Broadway  and  Fifth  Avenue,  if  one  cares  to  look  for 
them ;  and,  on  many  of  the  lateral  streets,  sharp  descents  are  noticed  as  one 
approaches  the  waterside.  The  stone  pavement  which  covers  all  the  streets 
of  the  city  (with  insignificant  exceptions),  for  five  miles  above  the  Batter}',  is 
usually  spoken  of  as  "Belgian  block";  and  much  of  it  really  is  so,  as  in 
Fifth  and  other  avenues.  Broadway  and  many  other  streets,  however,  are 
paved  with  stones  shaped  like  bricks,  but  much  larger,  laid  edgewise,  and 
with  the  long  side  at  right-angles  to  the  main  line  of  traffic.  Though  I  have 
driven  my  bicycle  over  these  five  miles  of  stone  blocks  (doing  the  last  half  of 
the  distance,  through  Fifth  Avenue  to  the  Park,  without  dismount),  I  must 
declare  that  there  is  little  pleasure  in  such  rough  riding.  In  the  winter,  how- 
ever, I  have  often  seen  the  cracks  between  the  stones  so  well  filled  with 
frozen  mud  or  snow  as  to  supply  a  smooth  surface  ;  and  I  hope  I  may  some- 
time find  leisure  to  make  an  extensive  trial  of  the  New  York  streets  while 
in  this  attractive  condition.  The  city  sidewalks  are  almost  all  composed  of 
broad,  smooth  flagstones, — ^brick  or  concrete  being  rarely  used  for  the  pur- 
pose,— but,  as  their  curb  is  six  inches  or  so  above  the  street  leve*,  the  bicycler 
who  resorts  to  them  must  dismount  at  every  crossing.  In  a  north-and-south 
direction,  therefore,  he  must  make  twenty  stops  to  the  mile ;  but,  in  an  east- 
and-west  direction,  he  may  go  by  stretches  nearly  a  quarter-mile  long  between 


AROUND  NEW'YORK.  67 

the  Hudson  River  and  Fifth  Avenue.  East  of  that  thoroughfare  his  stops 
will  be  twice  as  frequent,  for  Madison  av.  is  interpolated  between  5th  av..  and 
4th  a  v.,  and  Lexington  av.  between  4th  av.  and  3d  av. ;  while  the  distances 
between  3d  av.,  2d  av.,  and  ist  av.  are  less  than  those  between  the  avenues 
on  the  west  side. 

There  is  no  special  municipal  regulation  against  bicycling  on  the  side* 
walks,  though  each  policeman  mayprohibit.it  on  his  own  beat,  under  the 
general  orders  given  him  to  keep  the  walks  clear  of  all  "obstructions."  It 
depends  upon  circumstances  or  personal  temper  whether  any  individual 
policeman  exercises  this  right  of  prohibition;  but  the  probability  is  against 
his  doing  so  unless  the  number  of  people  on  the  walk  is  so  great  that  no 
prudent  person  would  wish  to  ride  a  bicycle  among  thencL  Policemen  have 
urged  me  to  mount  on  the  crowded  sidewalks  of  Wall  Street,  and  have  or« 
dered  me  to  dismount  on  upper  Fifth  Avenue  wh^n  the  walks  were  almost 
vacant.  The  same  officer  who  may  grant  the  request  to  ride,  if  politely  put 
to  him,  for  the  sake  of  seeing  "  how  the  thing  is  started,"  may  soon  after 
wards,  on  meeting  a  man  already  in  the  saddle,  order  him  to  leave  it,  for  the 
sake  of  seeing  "  how  the  thing  is  stopped,"  or  because  the  whim  takes  him 
to  gratify  his  feeling  of  authority  by  humbling  the  pride  of  the  superior 
creature  whom  he  imagines  to  look  down  disdainfully  upon  himself  from  the 
serene  upper  heights  of  the  wheel.  The  street  children  are  a  much  greater 
obstacle  than  the  patrolmen,  however,  to  sidewalk  touring  in  the  metropolis ; 
for  the  appearance  of  a  bicycle  in  most  of  the  densely«>populated  quarters 
will  generally  draw  out  so  tumultuous  a  swarm  of  them  as  to  force  the  lover- 
of-quiet  to  dismount,  in  order  to  rid  himself  of  his  escort,— -even  if  he  can 
persuade  them  to  give  him  a  pledge  of  safety  by  taking  to  the  roadway,  in- 
stead of  running  noisily  alongside  him  on  the  walk.  The  children  will  usually 
agree  to  this  at  the  outset,  as  they  are  anxious  to  see  the  riding ;  but  the  new* 
comers  in  their  ranks  will  continually  infringe  upon  the  rule ;  and  the  task 
of  shouting  with  sufficient  vigor  to  drive  them  out  of  reaching  distance  of  the 
rear-wheel,  and  of  simultaneously  keeping  a  sufficiently  sharp  eye  for  obstacles 
ahead  of  the  front  wheel,  is  too  great  a  task  to  be  paid  for  by  the  pleasures  of 
the  experience. 

There  is  a  broad  sidewalk  of  hardened  earth  (having  a  central  line  of 
flagstones  on  the  8th  av.  side  from  59th  st.  to  i  loth  St.,  and  on  the  5th  av.  side 
from  90th  St.  to  iioth  st.)  which  serves  as  a  border  for  Central  Park,  and  on 
which  a  bicycle  might  be  driven  for  about  six  miles  without  more  than  twice 
that  number  of  dismounts  being  required  by  the  curbs ;  but  the  walk  is  under 
control  of  the  same  persons  who  have  charge  of  the  walks  inside  the  park 
walls,  and  they  prohibit  wheeling  upon  it.  This  is  no  great  deprivation, 
however,  for  the  roadway  of  5th^  av.  is  macadamized  from  the  park-entrance 
to  Harlem  River;  while  a  wheelman  along  the  west  side,  who  might  wish  to 
avoid  the  Belgian  blocks  of  8th  av.  by  resorting  to  the  flagstones,  would 
rarely  be  molested, — so  slight  a  watch  is  kept  of  the  very  few  foot-passengers 


I 

68  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

along  that  thoroughfare.  The  west-side  bicycler,  furthermore,  would  usually 
prefer  to  avoid  the  desolate  8th  av.  altogether,  and  try  the  Boulevard,  before 
described  as  extending  in  the  same  general  direction,  a  little  to  the  west  of 
it ;  for  this  is  macadamized  as  far  as  1 55th  St.,  and  probably  soon  will  be  to 
its  junction  with  the  Kingsbridge  road  at  170th  st.  When  I  first  began  rid- 
ing, in  1879,  ^^  surface  was  in  rather  better  condition  than  now ;  and  the 
construction  of  a  double-line  of  -street-car  tracks,  within  the  last  few  months, 
will  impair  the  facility  formerly  enjoyed  by  the  bicycler  for  changing  from 
one  side  of  the  Boulevard  to  the  other,  though  each  side  of  it  will  still  afford 
him  ample  space  to  ride  upon.  ,  Four  transverse  roads,  as  they  are  called, 
pass  under  Central  Park  from  east  to  west,  leaving  5th  av.  at  65th  St.,  79th 
St.,  85th  St.  and  97th  St.,  and  entering  8th  av.  at  66th  St.,  8ist  St.,  86th  st,  and 
97th  St.,  respectively.  The  sidewalks  of  all  the  four  are  smooth,  as  are  also 
the  roadways  of  some  of  them.  The  highest  passage  (97th  st.)  is  the  poorest 
of  all,  and  the  lowest  is  chiefly  to  be  recommended,  on  account  of  its  near* 
ness  to  72d  St.,  which  is  an  important  macadamized  thoroughfare  both  ieast 
and  west  of  the  park.  The  Belgian  blocks  of  its  lower  border,  59th  st.,  may 
be  ridden  more  easily  in  an  easterly  direction,  because  there  is  a  descending 
grade  from  8th  av.  to  5th  av.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  park,  macadam  covers 
the  whole  surface  of  iioth  st.  from  river  to  river, — its  westernmost  terminus 
being  the  Riverside  Drive.  This  is  a  broad  parkway,  of  excellent  macadam- 
ized surface,  which  extends  along  the  heights  overlooking  the  Hudson,  from 
72d  St.  to  129th  St.,  and  which  may  also  be  entered  at  11 6th  st.  and  elsewhere. 
Its  average  width  is  about  500  feet  and  its  area  is  178  acres.  It  has  been 
open  to  the  public  only  two  or  three  years,  but  some  handsome  residences 
are  already  to  be  found  there,  and  the  expectation  is  that  its  eastern  side  will 
in  course  of  time  be  solidly  lined  with  them.  The  same  hope  is  held  in  re- 
gard to  the  adjacent  Boulevard ;  and,  indeed,  the  whole  region  west  of  Central 
Park  is  destined  soon  to  be  covered  with  fine  houses,  though  the  shanties  of 
the  squatters  have  not  yet  completely  disappeared  from  the  rocks.  They  may 
I  still  be  seen,  also,  in  the  corresponding  unsettled  region  east  of  the  park ; 

and  though  the  avenues  and  streets  nearest  to  it  will  finally  be  filled  with 
elegant  mansions,  a  majority  of  the  habitations  on  the  lower  ground  near  the 
water  will  be  of  a  humbler  sort  than  a  majority  of  those  west  of  the  park. 
North  of  this  is  a  region  not  yet  built  upon,  where  market-gardens  and  hot- 
beds cover  unbroken  acres  of  ground  which  the  city  map  represents  as  cut  up 
by  the  east-and-west  numerical  streets.  When  these  are  really  built,  upon 
the  lines  now  laid  down,  it  is  likely  that  many  of  them  may  be  macadamized, 
as  ii6th,  145th,  I52d,  and  155th  sts.  already  are.  A  level,  macadamized 
stretch,  about  two  miles  long,  straight  from  Central  Park  to  Harlem  River, 
is  supplied  by  both  6th  av.  and  7th  av.,  but  th^  latter  has  a  good  deal  of  earth 
on  its  surface,  and  is  much  frequented  by  the  drivers  of  fast  horses,  so  that 
the  former  is  to  be  recommended  to  the  bicycler,  who  should  turn  west  at 
145th  St.  and  thence  ride  a  half-mile  northward  to  the  end  of  7th  av.,  in  case 


70  TEiV  THOLrSA.VD  Af/LES  O.V  A  BICYCLE. 

tho  city,  ahvAVS  refer  to  Blackweirs  Island ;  and  any  mention  of  a  person 
who  han  "  gone  on  **  or  **  got  off  **  the  same, — ^who  has  been  **  sent  up  to  "  or 
hu!i  *'  come  down  from  ^  the  same, — implies  that  he  is  an  imprisoned  or  a  re- 
tcA»c(l  criminaK 

The  upi^rmost  half*mile  of  Avenue  A  (known  locally  as  "  Pleasant  Ave- 
n\)r  *'),  fr\>m  its  river  terminus  at  114th  st.  to  where  the  water  again  interrupts 
it  nc^r  I  t^^th  st.»  otTcrs  a  smooth  surface  for  wheeling;  and  5th  av^  almost  a 
mile  to  tho  \ve!»tward»  may  be  reached  on  the  macadam  at  124th,  ti6th,  iioth 
Aiui  *^l  5»t<  There  is  a  strttch  v>t  rvxujh  mjca«iam  on  iiSth  st,  from  3d  to 
Wh  A\*, ;  and  the  macavtAm  v>t  1  iwh  si.  rtachcs  t.>  nh  av^  and  will  perhaps 
t\()«\Uv  \k  txt^wvlcvl  tv>  th5^  K^xrer  rvvad  ot  Mv>niin^9de  Park.  This  is  an  irreg- 
\il%u»  clon)is\lt\l  piccv  of  lanA  cvvui^ns;-\^  socae  52  acrcsi.  between  iijd  and 
Uv^h  ^t*.,  aud  its  Iv^wer  rv\id— whvh  »  a  brv>*i  mi.^via mixed  thoroughfare 
CtvmvfvHii\ji  th\v*c  twv>  strce^^— b«:--\s  at  its  sc<itbeast  corner,  which  is  about 
5\v^  ttvt  tUMW  tV  iKHtNwv^  cv>c-i«r  vX  Central  Park.  This  roaJwas  first 
\»|V«\sl  tv*  tho  jHtV.c  ia  lVce^.Sfr.  t^:  a:^i  :he  c.^rresrocviin^  upper  road, 
f  M\m\vImv<  a'o  \:i  iNc  tsn>  v>«  t^  3s^5!j^A^  wil"  wi.ci  25  *coce*i  br  passengers 
x^M  t  V  c*o\  s\U\l  ??  \'  ^"i*  w***  x^r.^SibN  Se  £a»i!<?i  C"^":^  tbe  prsscat  rear.  Thi 
*mruv  \\'*t  tv  vuv»«\  a**.:  :V  ^^Jtics  =>x  i:Trr^t  f ,?r  die  brcyder  who  leaves 
U\MN  xj  At  v.yN  a\  .  v^  «^v\  t  :s  t^  cvfr-n:?,:^:  wile  tae  extensive 
xix'^xr*  rwn  tV  tv*  ^  >**r.  «^"*  ^^^lr  >.  t  r>r  a  >r-'2:  -rs^i.  I  !iiTe  sever  tried 
U'-tN  AX  5v'ow  Ux*N  '^  »  V^  •  :Sf  oc^^  i. r^^r  ^r  ■::  55  riixS?  frr  two-aai-a- 
KOt  m'\^v,  x>4  t.*  "tN  *c'**'  -^  at  'AXi  sc.  r**.:*  ^  a  sort  re  *  fn^ipiz^-off 
^v*A>\V  »n  nVx^wv^.  a  N  *  «\v''.  t>f  "at?  *.:.=s»  *$  F-xt  G^rrsre^  and 
\\NsN  <'xv^  A  *■  N"  >  v'«i  v*i  tNt  *n!CiJ?,'«^  sr-tcci.  ti;  i'.c ^  tie  xjrer  Harlem. 
^^MvV"  \<  \sN^  A*  *t  ?'->.*  <c.  "St  :>^  i*~^tri.-7^;rt  .x  tis;  Cr.cjT  Rsserroir: 
A  x^"  w^H  *'^  V  xV  ^  vV^'  c v^>  "^  -*»*  Vi*  *■»:— :.r  Isv  i.t-v  iti^  >;  iai  a  :a^^st 
VMV  ^v  w  ss  .  ,sAs  »  ^  o*  -*  srt'n^rr**  ct*  rr-.-ri  r^  ^lss.  Har:f  >r  scan-is 
tS^  \v\\  >*^\N->\^^v  A  t's*  \*. — ^'itxr  ,*c  TV  ^"- V  Ts.-^sc '^ii«;i--i2irwTs  lani- 
^^i^^Av  -.^  "x*  ^^"*  *V  >vfc>c  a  ,-^  s^  rv  t^.M'-^c  T.: '  ci —  tis  rTvr^:£e  irw^  rwr 
V'^v<   ^vv^'"^  -'»•  ^^  *=^  *'*  -^"^  '^**  ^'V'^  '"*'   —  -*  ^^*  "V^-  "v^«•ss5r  r*i7  s  a  VrsAi 

\V  ,V  "^-^yVx^  %  \'^  V  *:.  ,-  -,%-'  tv-rj  -Tx;  — -r^  ^urrari. — cm  x  js  t,irc 
nSn-*  *^  ;v  '"V  X  ;  ^  A  V  -o:*v'~  n.Ltrs-  t^c  J?-  ^  x  sc^jral*'-  TTtEssL-^t 
\s  v,v  ,v  A  ^  V  .s  •' V  «  ^^^  f>*  t  ^t"?  r»  a— *,'  sr-^ira!  -srnrs  -icrrjr  >zt 
'VNN-      vv     V    s  X  o  »•♦  \^t  n-     *,a-  ^v^vo^  -It    '^JxT  'n— .-"ct  TTssc  ?e  rTmSiai  'r- 

*^•v'"^^^^\  -N-*  V  >  K*-  '."^•v  •*  '*v  ^-^-^r  >r;  \  i  5inrt-rxr-t  rjurng  2?  3e>- 
v'\\\  V  w  >-  ....»  ^.NM  tt».vv  «  •ii-T  V  "r*xr  ir*"  ar;  iescsTU  -ae  uiT  it*^ 
VinIv"*  V  V  ^»     "^'  '••^  v^*  V  tt.r-  ,::  «•■•>  ^t  -s:*'***  v  ^~4'nr:a.  3rni§e  •ant  jc  5 


K 


72  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

being  newly  macadamized,  is  preferable  to  the  causeway,  even  though  the  re- 
turn journey  to  the  city  is  to  be  immediately  begun,  along  the  main  road  from 
King's  Bridge.  The  macadamized  surface  of  this  favorite  thoroughfare  has 
varied  greatly  in  quality  during  the  half-dozen  years  that  I  have  been  ac- 
quainted with  it ;  but,  when  in  average  condition,  it  may  be  ridden  in  either 
direction  without  dismount.  A  short  hill  just  beyond  the  In  wood  school- 
house  is  steep  enough  to  stop  many  northward  riders,  however;  and  the 
ascent  of  Washington  Heights,  in  the  other  direction,  has  been  long  enough 
to  stop  many  others,  though  its  descent  has  afforded  excellent  coasting  for 
nearly  a  mile.  I  use  the  past  tense,  because,  at  the  present  writing,  the  rocks 
which  form  the  basis  of  the  road  are  being  blasted  away,  and  its  ultimate 
grade  will  be  essentially  lower  than  before.  I  have  never  visited  what  the 
maps  designate  as  the  "  Public  Drive,"  or  "  Boulevard,"  extending  from  In- 
wood  Station  (Tubby  Hook),  along  the  bluffs  of  the  riverside,  to  nth  av.  at 
156th  St.,  three  miles  below;  but  its  names  seem  to  imply  a  smooth  surface, 
— at  least  prospectively.  It  passes  the  point,  about  a  mile  directly  west  of 
the  tower  at  High  Bridge,  where  stood  Fort  Washington,  an  extensive  earth- 
work which  the  British  captured  in  November,  1776,  thereby  causing  the 
evacuation,  four  days  later,  of  its  companion  stronghold.  Fort  Lee,  on  the 
New  Jersey  side  of  the  Hudson.  The  mansion  of  Madame  Jumel,  which 
served  as  Washington's  headquarters  during  that  historic  autumn,  still  stands 
on  the  heights  overlooking  the  Harlem,  just  east  of  loth  av.  and  a  short  dis- 
tance below  the  water-tower.  According  to  the  city  map,  the  swampy  low- 
lands of  this  region,  which  extend  from  the  river's  edge  to  the  foot  of  the 
heights,  are  ultimately  to  have  a  Boulevard,  beginning  at  1 50th  St.,  and  reach- 
ing around  the  Fort  George  bluff  to  make  a  junction  with  the  Kingsbridge 
road  at  a  point  opposite  Tubby,  Hook,  a  distance  of  three  miles.  The  half 
mile  or  more  of  road  northward  from  the  hook,  to  the  end  of  the  bluff  which 
terminates  the  island  at  Spuyten  Duyvil  Creek,  is  probably  ridable;  but 
there  is  no  way  of  crossing  the  creek,  except  on  the  uncovered  ties  of  the 
railroad  bridge. 

My  description  of  the  chief  cycling  routes  on  Manhattan  Island  being 
thus  completed,  I  return  to  the  foot  of  Jerome  Park  where  the  Kingsbridge 
road  crosses  Central  av.,  and  say  that  the  road  continues  a  somewhat  wind- 
ing southeasterly  course  for  a  half-mile,  until  it  crosses  the  railroad  tracks  at 
Fordham,  after  a  sharp  descent.  Just  before  beginning  this  descent,  it 
makes  a  junction  with  another  smoothly  macadamized  road,  leading  south- 
westerly to  its  terminus,  a  mile  distant,  at  Fordham  Landing  (or  Berrian 
Landing),  a  little  railroad  station  on  the  Harlem.  This  cross-road  is  inter- 
sected at  its  middle  point  by  Ridge  av.,  before  described ;  and  I  recommend 
it  as  the  best  route  from  Fordham  to  that  avenue,  while  I  at  the  same  time 
offer  warning  against  it,  as  having  no  outlet  at  the  riverside.  "  Pelham  and 
Fordham  Avenue  "  is  the  double-name  given  to  the  prolongation  of  the  Kings- 
bridge  road,  beyond  the  railway  crossing ;  and,  by  riding  a  straight  easterly 


rND  NEW-YORK.  73 

pon  its  southern  sidewalk  (great  good  luck  may 
It  dismount),  the  tourist  reaches  the  Southern 

he  may  then  spin  along  for  a  half-dozen  miles 
lus  at  Harlem  Bridge  (3d  iv.  11  133d  St.).  The 
ltd  is  Central  av.  at  Jerome  Park,  about  a  mile- 
1  av.  1  but  I  found  that.upper  section  too  sandy 
i  it,  in  '79,  and  I  suppose  it  is  so  siill,  thoi^h 
ilied  to  it  at  last.  The  surface  of  this  Southern 
iuring  the  years  that  I  have  been  familiar  with 
s,  and,  at  its  worst,  it  is  always  ridable ;  while. 
the  smoothest  and  swiftest  stretches  for  riding 
le  metropolitan  district.  If  one  turns  west  at 
bove  Boston  av.  (whose  crossing  of  the  Boule- 
car  tracks),  he  may  ride  smoothly  for  about  a 
ave  wheeled  along  the  railway  line  a  mile  or 
and  I  presume  there  may  be  at  least  one  fairly 
or  four  which  lead  from  Tremont  to  Central 

route  from  this  last-named  thoroughfare  may 
^  above  Gabe  Case's  hotel,  which  is  about  a 
ridge,  and  walking  up  a  short  hill  (165th  St.)  to 
irk  at  Walton  av.  This  has  a  macadamized 
irnward  slope  the  rider  may  go  without  stop  to 
he  railroad  track  al  Mott  Haven  station  and 
of-a-mile  above  Harlem  Bridge.  Walton  av. 
g  the  litst  easterly  road  above  Central  Bridge. 

this  route,  some  fine  views  may  be  had. 
■stance  from  Harlem  Bridge  to  the  bridge  over 
:h  the  tourist  crosses  from  Port  Chester,  the 
:  at  New  Vork,  into  the  State  of  Connecticut. 
I  case  he  takes  the  route  described  in  my  chap- 

and  the  average  excellence   of  its  surface  is 

16th  of  April.  :S84,  I  traversed  it  all  during 
lite  of  considerable  rain.     On  that  month,  also, 

"  bad  three  miles  "  above  the  drawbridge  at 
same  into  one  of  the  smoothest  and  pleasantest 
A  quarter-mile  below  this  bridge,  Fordham  and 
ined.  branches  off  from  the  Eastern  Boulevard 
It  line  westward,  for  four  miles,  until  it  crosses 
i  the  latler's  macadam  ends.  If  macadam  ever 
ce  of  these  other  broad  roadways,  the  bicycler 
linuous  circuit  of  more  than  a  doicn  miles  upon 
1st  about  at  the  middle  point  of  the  six  mac- 
Boulevard,  the  Westchester  turnpike,  which  is 
I  off  northeastward;   and  when  the  tourist  has 


74  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

traveled  along  it  for  three  miles,  and  crossed  the  creek  of  the  same  name,  he 
may  turn  left  into  a  soft  road,  whose  several  branches  all  lead  into  the  East- 
ern Boulevard,  in  the  direction  of  Pelham  Bridge.  I  recommend  him,  how- 
ever, to  continue  on  the  hard  road  to  the  right,  for  nearly  a  mile,  until  it 
crosses  the  Boulevard  at  the  hamlet  of  Schuylerville,  from  which  point  he  can 
follow  its  side-paths  to  .the  bridge.  Before  doing  this,  he  may  make  a  pleasant 
detour  to  the  shore  of  the  Sound,  a  mile-and-a-half  beyond,  by  keeping  straight 
ahead,  on  the  same  macadamized  track.  Near  the  end  of  this,  I  recollect 
taking  a  very  smooth  spin  of  a  third-of-a-mile,  along  a  road  to  the  west,  which 
had  no  outlet ;  and  I  think  that  the  road  leading  east,  and  terminating  at  the 
entrance  of  Fort  Schuyler,  on  Throggs  Neck,  is  most  of  it  fairly  ridable,  if  not 
also  macadamized.  At  all  events,  the  region  is  an  attractive  one  for  the  city 
cycler  to  explore. 

^On  the  19th  of  April,  1883,  the  centennial  anniversary  of  the  day  when 
Washington  proclaimed  to  his  army  at  Newburgh  that  the  long  fight  was 
ended,  I  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  historic  battle-field  of  White  Plains, 
situated  midway  between  the  waters  of  the  Sound  and  the  Hudson.  A  mile 
below  the  bridge  by  which  I  entered  Port  Chester,  and  near  the  foot  of  its 
main  street  (opposite  a  little  park,  containing  a  music  stand),  there  branches 
westward  a  broad  avenue  which  is  called  "  Purchase  "  for  the  first  mile,  and 
afterwards  "  Westchester."  Up  this  I  started,  at  a  quarter-past  nine,  and 
rode  most  of  the  grades,  on  the  sidewalk  flagstones,  to  the  top  of  the  high 
hill.  Macadam,  nut  yet  trodden  smooth,  covered  the  downward  slope,  and  I 
walked  up  the  latter  half  of  the  ascent  which  followed.  Beyond  a  big  water- 
ing-trough of  stone,  the  road  makes  a  turn  to  the  left ;  and  at  that  point  I 
climbed  up  on  a  lofty  rock  in  the  neighboring  orchard,  and  watched  the 
waters  of  the  Sound  for  half  an  hour,  since  that  was  to  be  my  last  chance  for 
the  day.  Thence  I  wheeled,  by  an  average  good  road,  winding  among  the 
hills,  but  pretty  level,  near  the  Mamaroneck  river,  to  the  soldier's  statue,  in 
White  Plains,  opposite  which  a  turn  must  be  made  to  the  left,  to  reach  the 
center  of  the  town.  I,  however,  proceeded  up  the  wide  thoroughfare  called 
Broadway  to  the  old  cannon,  which  marks  where  the  American  line  was 
drawn  up  to  receive  the  British,  in  the  battle  of  1776.  Beyond  this  is  still 
another  monument,  in  the  form  of  an  ancient  mortar,  which  marks  a  second 
historic  point  in  that  day's  strife.  I  used  the  west  sidewalk  in  ascending  the 
hill,  but  returned  in  the  roadway,  and  when  I  entered  the  street  opposite  the 
bronze  soldier  (Railroad  av.),  I  met  with  a  most  excellent  stretch  of  mac- 
adam, along  which  I  coasted  down  into  the  village.  Beyond  here,  after 
crossing  the  Bronx  river,  I  found  good  riding,  on  a  somewhat  winding  track, 
composed  of  light  loam,  which  would  probably  be  loose  and  dusty  in  dry 
weather;  and  I  did  no  walking  till  I  reached  the  hill  after  crossing  the  tracks 


iThis  paragraph  is  from  The  Bicycling  Worlds  May  18,  1883,  p.  iS.    The  remainder  of  the 
article  is  from  The  IVhetlf  March  (13,  a/)  and  May,  1885. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK. 


77 


historic  interest.  Four  miles  from  the  start,  where  (he  direct  road  leads  up  a 
steep  hill,  surmoanted  by  a  church,  he  should  swerve  (o  (he  lighC ;  and  then 
he  may  coast  through  the  main  street  of  the  village  for  half-a-mile  before 
ascending  the  gentle  grade  which  will  bring  him  again  into  Broadway.  Even 
on  a  northward  tour,  this  roundabout  course  is  preferable,  though  the  church 
hill  may  be  ridden  up  in  that  direction  for  quite  a  distance,  and  possibly  eVen 
to  its  snminit,  by  a  stronger  Hder  than  myself.  Here,  at  Dobbs  Ferry,  the 
rendence  ot  ex-Judge  Beach  is  notable  as  being  the  self-same  house  in  which 
Wasbinglon  signed  the  treaty  of  peace  with  Great  Britain,  May  3,  1783.  At 
Hastings,  two  miles  below,  a  pleasant  detour  of  a  half-mile  may  be  made 
throi^h  the  village,  by  turning  to  the  right  at  the  forlt,  though  the  final  up- 
grade is  rather  steeper  than  Ihat  of  the  direct  route ;  while,  on  the  northern 
ioumey,  this  descent  towards  the  river  is  apt  to  be  passed  by  iinnoliccd,  so 
sharply  docs  it  curve  backward  from  the  main  road.  A  half-mile  below  this 
point,  another  fork  offers  a  choice  of  routes  for  half-a-mile, — the  left  having 
the  steepest  grade,  and  the  right  usually  the  softest  surface.  This  river.road 
through  the  wootls  affords  several  fine  views  of  the  stream,  and  of  the 
l^isades  which  (ower  above  its  west  shore.  It  majr  be  more  easily  ridden 
In  (he  other  direction ;  and  the  only  time  when  I  ever  got  through  i(  without 
Slop,  while  touring  southward,  was  on  the  occasion  of  my  long  straightaway 
ride.  The  northward  tourist  may  recogniie  it  from  the  fact  that  it  branches 
off  just  above  the  point  where  the  termination  of  the  macadam  reminds  him 
that  he  has  reached  the  city-limits  of  Yonkers.  The  other  road  is  a  trifle 
shotter,  but  I  should  consider  the  rider  very  lucky  who  could  go  through  it  in 
either  direction  without  a  dismount.  Perhaps  one  or  both  of  these  half-mile 
stretches  will  soon  be  properly  paved — thereby  closing  the  only  gap  in  a  con- 
tinuous macadamised  track  between  the  Vincent  House  and  59th  SI. 

The  Getty  House,  facing  the  little  open  square  of  that  name  in  the  center 
of  Yonkers,  three-and-a-half  miles  below  the  northern  city-limits,  is  reached 
bv  a  descent  of  more  than  a  mile  of  varying  grades,  the  lowest  one  being  the 
Keepest.  I  have  never  ridden  up  this  but  once — which  was  on  the  forenoon 
of  (he  same  day  when  I  covered  the  whole  course  southward  without  stop — 
Hid,  (hough  the  sharp  pitch  is  only  a  few  tods  long,  it  is  the  most  difficult  one 
to  conquer  on  the  entire  course.  'The  rider  who  conquers  it,  and  then  keeps 
ID  the  saddle  for  another  mile  of  up-hill  work,  will  probably  feel  about  as 
thoroughly  tired  as  I  did,  when  he  gets  to  the  top.  Even  in  descending  this 
Heep  slope  he  should  exercise  considerable  care,  for  he  must  then  ride  about 
iorty  rods  towards  the  left,  through  a  street  usually  crowded  with  vehicles,  to 


76  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

greater.  I  am  told  that  this  25-111.  route  has  been  traversed  in  each  direc- 
tion without  dismount  by  several  other  riders,  though  the  exact  statistics  of 
their  journeys  are  not  known  to  me ;  and  nothing  more  need  be  said  to  desig- 
nate this  as  the  longest  and  finest  straightaway  course  leading  out  of  the  city. 
When  I  first  tried  it,  on  the  afternoon  of  November  24,  1879,  ^  found  a  good 
riding  surface  as  far  as  the  pond  about  a  mile  northwest  of  the  Vincent 
House ;  and  then,  after  walking  up  the  hill  past  Sleepy  Hollow  Cemetery,  I 
trudged  through  the  sand  for  nearly  two  miles,  or  to  a  point  very  near  the 
great  arch  of  the  aqueduct.  Here  I  was  assured  that  the  road  continued 
just  as  soft  all  the  way  to  Sing  Sing,  say  four  miles  beyond;  and  so  I 
returned  to  the  hotel  for  the  night.  The  fact  that  there  is  no  other  good 
public  house  nearer  than  Yonkers,  a  dozen  miles  below,  coupled  with  the 
fact  that  it  stands  so  near  the  end  of  the  smooth  roadway,  and  is  just  about  a 
comfortable  half-day's  journey  above  59th  St.,  explains  its  exceptional  im- 
portance as  a  cycling  landmark.  The  casual  wheelman  will  always  be  sure  of 
finding  an  excellent  dinner  awaiting  him  there,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, at  a  cost  of  seventy-five  cents ;  and  ample  facilities  exist  for  supplying 
special  accommodations  to  larger  parties  who  may  arrange  for  the  same  in 
advance.  Several  respectable  restaurants  and  oyster  saloons  may  also  be 
found  in  the  village,  chiefly  along  Main  St.,  which  makes  a  right-angle  from 
Broadway,  where  one  descends  it  not  far  above  the  Vincent  House,  and 
which  then  slopes  sharply  to  the  railway  station  and  steamboat  dock,  on  the 
river  level,  about  a  half-mile  from  the  hotel.  At  a  similar  distance  above  the 
latter,  on  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  stands  the  monument  to  mark  the  spot 
where  the  British  spy,  Major  Andr4,  was  captured  in  1780;  and  at  the  cross- 
roads, a  little  beyond  here,  by  taking  the  left,  through  Beekman  av.  and 
Cortlandt  St.,  another  smooth  descent  may  be  made  to  the  railway  station. 
By  turning  to  the  right  at  the  cross-roads  just  named,  and  soon  again  to  the 
right  at  the  next  crossing,  one  may  enter  the  County  House  road,  which 
climbs  over  the  ridge  to  East  Tarry  town,  a  mile  distant,  on  the  Sawmill  river- 
road.  This  is  more  than  two  miles  above  Elmsford,  where  I  crossed  that 
road  on  my  ride  from  White  Plains ;  and  the  map  shows  that  it  follows  the 
stream  up  to  its  source  at  Pleasantville,  five  miles  further.  I  hope  to  explore 
it  some  day,  and  perhaps  push  on  through  Chappaqua  and  Mount  Kisco  to 
the  Croton  river, — the  road  along  which,  for  the  last  five  or  six  miles,  before  it 
reaches  the  Hudson,  above  Sing  Sing,  ought  to  prove  fairly  level  and  ridable. 
A  third  route  northward  from  Tarrytown  to  Sing  Sing  is  offered  by  the 
Sleepy  Hollow  road,  which  is  about  midway  between  the  sandy  Albany  turn- 
pike and  the  Sawmill  valley;  but  of  its  character  I  have  as  yet  no  knowledge. 
The  southward  route  from  the  Vincent  House  along  Broadway,  to  the 
King's  Bridge  (14^  m.),  is  probably  as  pleasant  a  one  for  the  wheelman  as 
any  similar  short  stretch  in  America ;  and,  though  he  may  comfortably  cover 
it  without  leaving  the  saddle,  he  will  be  disposed,  on  his  first  visit,  at  least, 
to  stop  many  times,  for  the  better  viewing  of  its  numerous  points  of  scenic  or 


L 


AROUND  NEW-YORK. 


77 


historic  interest.  Four  miles  from  the  start,  where  the  direct  road  leads  up  a 
steep  hill,  surmounted  by  a  church,  he  should  swerve  to  the  right ;  and  then 
he  may  coast  through  the  main  street  of  the  village  for  half-a-mile  before 
ascending  the  gentle  grade  which  will  bring  him  again  into  Broadway.  Even 
on  a  northward  tour,  this  roundabout  course  is  preferable,  though  the  church 
hill  may  be  ridden  up  in  that  direction  for  quite  a  distance,  and  possibly  eVen 
to  its  summit,  by  a  stronger  rider  than  mjrself.  Here,  at  Dobbs  Ferry,  the 
residence  of  ex-Judge  Beach  is  notable  as  being  the  self-same  house  in  which 
Washington  signed  the  treaty  of  peace  with  Great  Britain,  May  3,  1783.  At 
Hastings,  two  miles  below,  a  pleasant  detour  of  a  half-mile  may  be  made 
through  the  village,  by  turning  to  the  right  at  the  fork,  though  the  final  up- 
grade is  rather  steeper  than  that  of  the  direct  route ;  while,  on  the  northern 
journey,  this  descent  towards  the  river  is  apt  to  be  passed  by  unnoticed,  so 
sharply  does  it  curve  backward  from  the  main  road.  A  half-mile  below  this 
point,  another  fork  offers  a  choice  of  routes  for  half-a-niile, — ^the  left  having 
the  steepest  grade,  and  the  right  usually  the  softest  surface.  This  river-road 
through  the  woods  affords  several  fine  views  of  the  stream,  and  of  the 
Palisades  which  tower  above  its  west  shore.  It  may  be  more  easily  ridden 
in  the  other  direction ;  and  the  only  time  when  I  ever  got  through  it  without 
stop,  while  touring  southward,  was  on  the  occasion  of  my  long  straightaway 
ride.  The  northward  tourist  may  recognize  it  from  the  fact  that  it  branches 
off  just  above  the  point  where  the  termination  of  the  macadam  reminds  him 
that  he  has  reached  the  city-limits  of  Yonkers.  The  other  road  is  a  trifle 
shorter,  but  I  should  consider  the  rider  very  lucky  who  could  go  through  it  in 
either  direction  without  a  dismount.  Perhaps  one  or  both  of  these  half-mile 
stretches  will  soon  be  properly  paved — thereby  closing  the  only  gap  in  a  con- 
tinuous macadamized  track  between  the  Vincent  House  and  59th  st. 

The  Getty  House,  facing  the  little  open  square  of  that  name  in  the  center 
of  Yonkers,  three-and-a-half  miles  below  the  northern  city-limits,  is  reached 
by  a  descent  of  more  than  a  mile  of  varying  grades,  the  lowest  one  being  the 
steepest.  I  have  never  ridden  up  this  but  once — ^which  was  on  the  forenoon 
of  the  same  day  when  I  covered  the  whole  course  southward  without  stop — 
and,  though  the  sharp  pitch  is  only  a  few  rods  long,  it  is  the  most  difficult  one 
to  conquer  on  the  entire  course.  *  The  rider  who  conquers  it,  and  then  keeps 
in  the  saddle  for  another  mile  of  up-hill  work,  will  probably  feel  about  as 
thoroughly  tired  as  I  did,  when  he  gets  to  the  top.  Even  in  descending  this 
steep  slope  he  should  exercise  considerable  care,  for  he  must  then  ride  about 
forty  rods  towards  the  left,  through  a  street  usually  crowded  with  vehicles,  to 
reach  the  Getty  House  comer.  If  he  still  keeps  to  the  left  for  another  fifty 
rods,  through  Main  St.,  he  will  reach  Nepperhan  av.  (which  makes  a  right 
angle  to  the  left,  and  by  which  he  may  turn  backward  towards  the  northeast, 
if  he  wishes  to  reach  the  Sawmill  river-road) ;  and  by  continuing  southward 
for  twice  that  distance  he  will  re-enter  Broadway,  about  two-thirds  of  a  mile  be- 
low the  Getty  House.    I  myself  generally  prefer  the  Broadway  route,  whether 


78 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


I'V. 


going  northward  or  southward,  though  the  distance  is  a  trifle  longer,  and  a  hill 
is  to  be  climbed  which  the  Main  st.  route  avoids.  About  a  mile  below  the 
junction  of  the  two  routes,  Valentine's  Lane  branches  westward  through  the 
trees,  to  make  connection  with  Riverdale  av.,  a  quarter-mile  distant ;  and  the 
unpaved  grades  of  this  cross-road  used  nearly  always  to  force  a  dismount,  in 
the  -days  when  Riverdale  a  v.  supplied  the  only  practicable  path  between 
Yonkers  and  the  King's  Bridge.  When  I  had  managed  to  worry  through  this 
lane,  on  the  occasion  of  my  straightaway  ride  from  Tarrytown,  in  1882,  I  felt 
confident  that,  barring  accidents,  I  should  succeed  in  reaching  59th  st.  without 
stop.  But  the  lane  need  no  longer  be  resorted  to,  for  the  macadam  of  Broad- 
way now  stretches  unbrokenly  to  Spuyten  Duyvil  Creek, — the  last  unpaved 
section  having  been  covered  with  it  in  1884, — and  affords  a  charming  ride  of 
more  than  two  miles  through  a  well-wooded  valley,  where  the  houses  are  not 
numerous  enough  to  be  obtrusive,  and  where  there  is  only  one  ascent  long 
enough  to  be  tiresome. 

A  very  long  and  tiresome  ascent,  however,  does  confront  the  rider  who 
starts  northward  from  the  creek"  by  the  old  route,  which  was  the  only  practi- 
cable one  until  the  recent  macadamization  of  Broadway  at  Mosholu.  Turn- 
ing sharply  to  the  left  when  he  leaves  the  King's  Bridge,  he  will  cross 
the  railway  tracks  after  about  forty  rods  of  rough  macadam,  and  then  turn 
to  the  right,  up  the  long  hill  of  Riverdale  av.,  whose  top  is  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  bridge.  If  he  can  keep  his  saddle  for  the  first  thirty  rods  of  the 
climb,  he  need  not  stop  short  of  the  summit  (for  the  upper  grades  are  gen- 
tler), and  he  may  thence  continue  without  dismount  for  two  miles,  to  Mt.  St. 
Vincent, — though  some  of  the  intermediate  slopes  are  steep  enough  to  make 
the  novice  groan.  On  the  descending  grade  of  this  hill  he  should  turn  to 
the  right,  into  Valentine's  Lane,  before  described,  if  he  wishes  to  reach  the 
macadam  of  Broadway ;  and  he  may  recognize  the  lane  as  forming  the  north- 
ern boundary  of  the  grounds  that  slope  downward  from  a  large  public-build- 
ing  of  red  brick,  upon  the  crest  of  the  hill.  Here  the  northward  tourist  sees 
the  Hudson  for  the  first  time  after  leaving  1 55th  st.,  and  he  also  gets  his  first 
view  of  Yonkers.  Instead  of  turning  into  the  lane,  he  may  keep  straight  on 
for  a  mile  and  a  half,  to  the  center  of  the  city,  though  the  soft  spots  in  the 
road  will  probably  cause  more  ^han  one  dismount.  The  ancient  Manor 
House,  which  serves  as  the  City  Hall  and  which  is  one  of  the  very  few  his- 
toric structures  of  America  having  a  record  of  more  than  two  centuries,  stands 
here  at  the  corner  of  Dock  st.,  fronting  on  Warburton  av.,  though  this  is 
simply  a  prolongation,  for  a  mile,  in  a  perfectly  straight  line,  of  the  less- 
straight  Riverdale  av.,  which  crosses  the  outlet  of  the  Sawmill  river  just 
before  reaching  Dock  st.  From  the  end  of  the  ridable  sidewalk  of  Warbur- 
ton av.,  which  terminates  abruptly  in  the  northern  outskirts  of  the  town,  one 
must  walk  up-hill  for  a  half-mile  through  the  woods  to  reach  Broadway, — 
passing  a  spring  of  good  drinking-water  a  few  rods  from  this.  I  have  never 
descended  this  hill  to  Warburton  av.,  though  I  think  it  would  have  to  be 


iiilittd .  bir  13"-  r,tM   »  . 


8o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

what  nearer  the  latter,  on  the  eastern  slope,  stands  the  house  of  Cyms  W. 
Field,  who  is  popularly  ranked  with  the  owners  of  "  Lyndehurat ''  and  "  Grey- 
stone  "  as  having  amassed  millions  by  "  developing  "  the  elevated  railways  of 
the  city  ;  but  who  deserves  a  higher  ranit  than  they  in  the  world  of  wheeling, 
by  reason  of  his  having  caused  Ihal  mile  of  smooth  macadamized  roadway  to 
be  built  from  Ashford  station  to  the  Hudson. 

Instead  of  ascending  the  Riverdale  hill  to  the  right,  after  crossti^  the 
railroad  tracks  west  o£  Kingsbridge,  I  once  explored  the  region  to  the  left 
(Dec.  iS,  1S83),  when  a  thin  film  of  frozen  snow  covered  the  road,  which 
might  prove  fairly  good  in  summer.  It  winds  along  close  to  the  railway, 
crossing  it  twice  by  bridges  (near  the  point  of  the  Wagner  train  accident, 
whose  honors  were  then  fresh  in  public  memory),  and  ends  in  a  little  less 
than  a  mile,  at  Spuyten  Duyvii  station.  From  here,  a  venturesome  tourist 
might  possibly  scramble  across  the  ties  of  the  railroad  bridge  and  up  the 
heights  to  the  road  which  leads  to  Tubby  Hook ;  but  I  preferred  to  turn 
about  ind  ascend  a  long  hill,  by  a  winding  road  through  the  woods,  mostly 
ridable,  in  spite  of  the  snow,  until  I  entered  Riverdale  av.  at  a  little  less 
than  a  mile  above  the  railroad  crossing.  The  distance  from  the  station  to  the 
point  of  entering  the  avenue  was  a  mile  and  a  half;  and  the  entire  circuit 
thus  amounted  to  about  three  miles  and  a  quarter.  A  barn-like  structure,  de- 
voted to  the  sale  of  "  wood  and  coal,  hay  and  oats,"  stands  at  the  point  on 
the  avenue  where  the  road  for  Spuyten  Duyvii  branches  oft  through  the 
woods.  Between  this  point  and  Mt,  St.  Vincent  there  are  two  smooth  roads 
which  branch  westward  to  the  river  and  connect  with  each  other  at  the  sta- 
tion and  settlement  called  Riverdale  ;  and  a  detour  may  well  be  made  through 
them,  for  the  sake  of  the  view.  The  map  shows  a  road  extending  from  this 
station,  for  about  three^iuarters  of  a  mile,  parallel  to  Riverdale  av.  until  it 
joins  the  same  at  Mt.  St.  Vincent;  and  it  probably  offers  good  riding,  though 
I  have  never  chanced  10  make  exploration  there. 

Tarrytown  lies  on  a  certain  famous  twelve-mile  stretch  of  the  Hudson 
which  is  called  the  Tappan  Sea,  because  it  has  a  breadth  of  more  than  two 
miles  for  nearly  all  that  distance.     The  voyage  by  ferry  to  Nyack,  which  lies 
directly  opposite,  on  the  west  shore,  is,  therefore,  a  not  insignificant  one;  and 
the  smooth  road  southward  alongside  that  shore  to  Piermont  offers  as  pleas- 
ant a  three-mile  spin  as  wheelman's  heart  can  wish  for.    Thence  he  must 
turn  inland  to  Sparkill  (li  m.),  Tappan  (ij  m.),  Cioster  (4  m.),  Tcnafly  (4  m.f 
and   Englewood  {i\  m.),  and  be  content  to  do  most  of  his  riding— and  % 
good  deal  of  walking— on  the  side-paths  of  rather  sandy  and  hilly  roads. 
It  took  me  four  hours  to  cover  the  thirteen  mjlesi 
when  the  track  was  probably  in  average  condition; 
weather  made  even  slow  progress  a  pleasure  (if,  indi 
to  be  slow),  and  I  stopped  a  good  while  to  stare  al 
house  near  the  hotel  in  Tappan,  where  the  luckless 
a  century  ago,  before  being  executed,  on  the  adjac 


AROUND  NEW-YORK.  8i 

since  carried  tbe  name  of  Gallows  Hill,  and  which  must  reach  pretty  close 
to  the  State  line  of  New  Jersey.  A  macadamized  road  connects  Englewood 
with  Fort  Lee  (s  m.),  whence  ferry  boat  may  be  taken  across  to  130th  st, 
just  a  short  distance  from  the  Boulevard.  1  have  tried  this  route  in  the 
opposite  direction  only.  Walking  up-hill  for  a  half-mile  from  the  dock 
(though  most  or  all  of  this  might  be  ridden),  I  mounted  at  the  fork  in  the 
road,  and  went  without  atop  for  two  miles,  to  a  point  beyond  the  great 
Palisades  Hotel,  since  burned, — whence  a  broad  roadway  stretches  in  a 
straight  line  to  Englewood  {3\  m.).  The  last  half  of  this  may  be  coasted, 
but  I  should  think  the  ascent  could  hardly  be  made  wilhoul  a  stop. 

The  obstacle  which  forces  the  tourist  coming  down  the  west  side  of  the 
Hodson  to  turn  inland  at  Piermont  is  the  Palisades,  "  which  is  a  name  ap- 
plied to  a  long,  perpendicular,  apparently  columnar  wall  that  extends  in  an 
unbroken  line  thither  from  Fort  Lee  (20  m.),  rising  directly  from  the  water's 
edge.  This  wall  is  nearly  uniform  in  altitude  for  the  greater  part  of  the  dis- 
tance, though  it  varies  from  300  to  500  feet  in  height ;  but  it  is  narrow,  being 
in  some  places  not  more  than  three-quarters  of  a  mile  wide.  Its  top  is  singu- 
larly even,  affording  a  long,  narrow  table-land,  upon  which  there  is  a  scant 
growth  of  trees.  The  air  is  salubrious  and  the  prospects  are  superb, — tbe 
opposite  low  verdant  shore,  for  a  long  distance  to  the  north,  affording  a 
charming  picture."'  From  the  site  of  the  burned  hotel,  a  dirt  road  extends 
northward  through  the  woods  of  this  remarkable  ridge  to  Alpine  (5  m.)  op- 
posite Yonkers,  which  may  be  reached  by  ferry ;  and  the  map  shows  the  path 
prolonged  even  to  Piermont;  but  I  presume  that  the  bicycler  who  tried  it 
would  do  more  walking  than  riding.  The  descent  to  Fort  Lee  had  better  not 
be  coasted  in  summer  time,  on  account  of  the  crowds  which  frequent  the  hotel 
there.  Southward  from  Fort  Lee  one  may  ride  along  the  shore  without  stop 
for  nearly  tno  miles,  when  he  may  turn  up  the  hill  at  Edgewater ;  or  he  may 
continue  along  it  for  another  mile  to  Shady  Side,  where  he  has  a  second 
chance  to  ascend  ;  or  he  may  ride  still  another  two  miles  to  Weehawken,  and 


$2 


TEX  THOUSAXD  MILES  OX  A  BICYCLE. 


sidewalks,  he  maj  thence  wofk  fas  war  a>  Hobofces  Fcnr  (3 111.1,  unless  he 
prefer  to  take  one  of  the  horsecars  v^ick  wiZ  be  Tscha  hs  leacfa  soon  after 
passing  the  tower.    The  ferry  marks  tSe  lezKiiias  of  ooe  of  the  great  railway 
lines  (always  called  **  the  D^  I^  and  W^*  fr:?fB  the  iastials  of  its  very  long 
name),  and  its  boats  will  take  a  man  errr-jer  directiT  across  to  Cluistc^iher  St., 
hardly  more  than  half-a-mile  from  Washington  Sqcare,  or  down  to  Barclay  sL, 
somewhat  less  than  that  disranrr  from  ibe  City  HalL     Taylor's  Hotel,  in 
Jersey  City,  a  well-known  landmark,  stands  at  the  entrance  to  Jersey  City 
Ferry,  which  is  the  terminos  of  the  PennsyiTaaia  railway,  and  its  boats  land 
both  at  Cortlandt  sL,  immediately  opposite  ifoar  Kocks  below  Barclay  st), 
and  at  Desbrosses  St.,  which  is  three^narteis  of  a  mile  above,  and  a  half-mile 
below   Christopher  sL      Commnnipaw   Fcrty.  the  terminus  of  the  Jersey 
Central  railway,  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile  below  Taylor's  Hotel,  and  lands 
all  its  passengers  at  Liberty  St.,  the  next  below  Cortlandt  st.    Three-quarters 
of  a  mile  above  Taylor's  Hotel,  and  a  half-mile  below  Hoboken  Ferry,  is 
Pavonia  Ferry,  the  terminas  of  the  Erie  railway,  whose  boats  land  both  at 
Chambers  st.  (four  blocks  above  Barclay  st.)  and  at  zjd  St.,  two  miles  above. 
The  distances  mentioned  as  separating  the  ferries  on  the  Jersey  side  are 
much  shorter  than  those  the  traveler  would  in  fact  be  forced  to  traverse,  in 
going  from  one  to  the  other,  for  there  is  no  street  which  directly  connects 
them  anywhere  near  the  water-front.     In  getting  from  Hoboken  to  Taylor's 
Hotel,  for  example  (May  26,  *S2),  I  wheeled  more  than  two  miles, — much  of  it 
on  the  sidewalks Jfor  flagstone  walks  are  abundant  enough  in  all  these  squalid 
suburbs),  though  I  found  one  main  road  fairly  ridable.   I  once  tried  a  western 
route  from  the  hotel  (Nov.  i6>  'So),  by  turning  into  Grand  St.,  and  then,  at  a 
point  2\  m.  from  the  ferry,  taking  the  plank  road  for  3  m.  alongside  the  canal 
and  across  the  marshes  between  the  Hackensack  and  Passaic  rivers.     This 
brought  me  to  a  disagreeable  suburb  of  Newark  which  I  believe  is  called 
Marion,  and  I  then  wheeled  on  the  sidewalks,  or  else  went  afoot  for  nearly 
3  m.,  until  I  reached  the  smooth  pavement  at  the  head  of  Central  av.     My 
usual  route  to  that  point  from  the  New  York  ferries,  however,  seems  far 
preferable  to  the  one  just  given,  and  I  thus  described  it  in  Tfu  Whedntan 
(June,  1883,  p.  219) ;  "  The  road  leading  up  Bergen  hDI,  near  the  tunnels,  may 
be  reached  by  wheeling  on  the  stone  sidewalks, — the  distance  being  a  mile 
from  Hoboken  Ferry,  and  somewhat  greater  from  the  lower  ferries.     From 
the  top  of  the  hill  to  the  bridge  over  the  Hackensack  [\\  m.),  there  is  side- 
•walk  riding,  mostly  on  a  down  grade,  requiring  only  a  few  dismounts ;  and 
then  the  wheelman  may  go  without  stop  across  the  marshes  (3^  m.),  on  a 
macadamized  roadway,  though  this  is  sometimes  made  rather  difficult  by 
mud  and  ruts.    Another  mile  or  so  of  sidewalk  riding,  in  a  perfectly  straight 
line,  leads  to  the  bridge  over  the  Passaic,  which,  for  the  sake  of  convenience 
in  description,  I  have  previously  assumed  as  'the  apex  of  the  eight-mile 
Newark-and-Orange  triangle,*  or  as  the  imaginary  point  of  junction  of  the 
chief  avenues  belonging  to  that '  triangle.*  **    I  might  better  have  placed  my 


AROUND  NEW-YORK.  83 

imaginary  point  an  eighth  of  a  mile  west  of  the  riveri  however,  where  Bridge 
St  enters  Broad  St.,  for  the  corner  building,  in  the  northeast  angle  between 
them,  contains  Oraton  *  Hall,  the  "  Z.  &  S."  headquarters  of  the  New  Jersey 
wheelmen ;  and  as  the  tourist  may  there  find  the  latest  news  as  to  roads  and 
routes,  he  would  do  well  to  reckon  distances  from  it  as  a  chief  objective  point. 

Returning  from  that  point,  by  the  route  just  given,  to  the  top  of  Bergen 
hill  (6  m.),  he  may  there  turn  northward  and  try  the  sidewalks  for  2  m.  in  a 
straight  line  (passing  the  reservoir  on  his  right,  \  m.  from  the  start) ;  but  the 
road  in  the  course  of  another  mile  bends  westward  down  the  hill  to  Home- 
stead station,  and  then  crosses  the  marshes  to  Carlstadt  (5  m.), — and  I  know 
nothing  of  its  character.  At  the  specified  distance  above  the  reservoir, — or 
at  considerably  less  distance, — one  may  go  eastward  }  m.,  by  the  cross  streets, 
until  he  reaches  Palisades  av.,  near  the  edge  of  the  ridge,  whose  sidewalks 
are  ridable  in  a  bee-line  for  2}  m.,  affording  the  tourist  an  ejccellent  panorama 
of  the  great  city  on  the  opposite  shore.  The  old  turnpike  from  Hoboken  to 
Hackensack  crosses  the  head  of  this  avenue,  \  m.  above  the  Monastery 
(whose  sightly  position,  on  the  heights  opposite  27th  St.,  makes  it  a  prominent 
landmark  for  many  miles  around) ;  and  the  street  which  is  just  behind  the 
Monastery  forms  the  eastern  front  of  the  reservoir,  exactly  two  miles  below. 
At  the  north  end  of  Palisades  av.,  the  tourist  should  turn  east  for  \  m.,  until 
he  reaches  the  south  end  of  Bull's  Head  Ferry  av.,  about  \  m.  below  the  big 
brick  water-tower  before  described.  If  he  wishes  to  go  to  Hoboken,  he  may 
cither  descend  northward  to  the  horse-car  tracks,  and  then  continue  his 
descent  southward  by  the  route  already  given  (p.  81),  or  he  may  keep  right 
along  eastward  and  southward  by  the  old  Hackensack  pike.  Assuming  his 
wish  to  continue  northward,  however,  his  first  chance  to  descend  to  the  river 
level  will  be  at  J  m.  above  the  water-tower  (half  way  between  it  and  Gutten- 
berg),  where  a  rough  and  winding  road,  which  must  be  walked  in  either 
direction,  connects  the  avenue  with  Weehawken  Ferry.  This  is  the  terminus 
of  the  West  Shore  railway,  whose  boats  go  to  42d  St.,  and  the  rocky  excava- 
tions of  whose  tunnel  are  noticed  by  the  tourist  a  little  to  the  north  of  the 
water-tower.  I  recommend  him,  however,  to  keep  right  up  the  hill,  through 
Gattenberg,  and  then  {\  m.  beyond,  where  a  chance  offers  of  going  down  to  the 
river)  to  turn  westward  \  m.,  and  northward  }  m.,  to  the  little  bridge  over 
the  ravine,  where  he  may  descend  southward  to  Shady  Side  (|  m.),  or  con- 
tinue northward  to  Edgewater  and  Fort  Lee  (ferry  to  130th  St.).  The  stretch 
of  7  m.  from  the  upper  end  of  Palisades  av.  to  this  terminal  point,  could 
probably  be  covered,  by  a  good  rider,  without  leaving  the  saddle. 

The  best  wheeling  in  all  that  region,  however,  is  offered  by  the  Bergen  Line 
Boulevard,  a  broad  macadamized  roadway,  2\  m.  long,  lying  nearly  parallel  to 
the  Bull's  Head  Ferry  av.,  and  J  m.  west  of  it.  Blacque's  Hotel,  and  Nun- 
ges8er*s,  two  well-known  road-houses,  face  each  other  at  the  head  of  the 
Boulevard,  and  they  stand  on  a  line  drawn  due  west  from  95th  st.  Their  dis- 
tance from  the  ravine-bridge  on  the  hill  behind  Shady  Side  is  just  a  mile. 


84  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

and,  though  the  route  has  two  or  three  turnings,  it  is  not  likely  to  be  mistaken. 
The  macadam  terminates  where  the  Boulevard  crosses  the  West  Shore 
tunnel ;  and  though  the  tourist  may  continue  straight  along,  on  the  sidewalks, 
to  the  Hackensack  turnpike  (}  m.),  and  thence  to  Palisades  av.  (J  m.),  I  rec- 
ommend him  to  turn  off  at  Fulton  St.,  \  m.  from  the  tunnel,  and  ride  across 
to  the  water  tower,  \  m.  Rumors  have  reached  me  of  a  plan  to  prolong  the 
macadam  of  the  Boulevard  to  Bergen  Point,  a  dozen  mHes  below  the  tunnel ; 
but  I  do  not  expect  that  so  magnificent  a.  scheme  will  be  realized  in  my  life- 
time. The  map  shows  a  series  of  parallel  streets  extending  all  the  way  from 
the  Point  (which  is  separated  from  Port  Richmond,  on  Staten  Island,  by  only 
\  m.,  of  the  Kill  van  KuU's  waters)  to  the  cross-roads  on  Bergen  hill,  7  m. 
above,  where  my  own  explorations  have  ended.  Much  of  this  neck  of  land 
between  Newark  bay  and  New  York  bay  is  less  than  a  mile  wide,  and  all  of 
it  seems  to  be  hilly,  and  to  exhibit  a  rather  poor  class  of  houses.  Wheeling 
there  would  presumably  not  be  pleasant,  but  I  mean  to  attempt  it,  some  time, 
in  connection  with  another  visit  to  Staten  Island. 

From  Blacque's  Hotel,  at  the  head  of  the  Boulevard,  one  may  go  northwest- 
ward, over  a  course  which  is  often  too  rough  to  be  ridable,  to  Fairview  (ijm.), 
a  gentle  grade,  towards  the  end  turning  off  sharply  into  a  steep  descent.  At 
the  foot  of  this,  he  may  turn  northwestward  again,  by  Hackensack  pike,  for 
the  Club  House  at  Ridgefield  (i  m.),  whence  two  northwest  roads  (rather 
sandy,  the  one  nearer  the  railway  being  preferable)  lead  to  Englewood  (5  m.). 
From  there  he  may  return  to  Fort  Lee,  along  the  macadaniized  route  already 
described  (p.  81).  Southward  from  Fairview  to  the  toll-gate  at  Machpelah 
Cemetery  (2  m.),  I  have  found  (May  7,  '83)  the  Hackensack  road  to  supply 
pleasant  wheeling,  with  one  easy  hill ;  but  as  appearances  below  were  less 
favorable,  I  turned  about,  for  i  m.,  and  theh  ascended  by  a  macadamized 
cross-road  to  the  Boulevard,  \  m.  to  the  east, — passing  another  parallel  road, 
midway  between  the  two.  The  distance  from  the  cemetery,  by  the  Hacken- 
sack pike,  to  the  head  of  Palisades  av.,  is  about  2  m.,  and  two  roads  branch 
off  from  it  to  Homestead,  whence  the  thoroughfare  distinguished  by  telegraph 
poles  stretches  across  the  marshes  to  the  hills  at  Carlstadt  (5  m.),  as. before 
described.  Other  routes  connecting  Newark  with  New  York  (at  130th  st. 
ferry :  by  way  of  Belleville,  Carlstadt  and  Ridgefield ;  by  way  of  Little  Falls, 
Paterson,  Hackensack  and  Ridgefield ;  and  by  way  of  Paterson  and  Engle- 
wood,) are  described  in  my  thirteenth  chapter,  "  Coasting  on  the  Jersey 
Hills  " ;  and  the  latter  might  perhaps  be  recommended  as  supplying  the  best 
connection  with  Boonton,  or  even  Morristown,  —  leaving  Newark  entirely 
aside,  in  favor  of  Singac,  Fairfield  and  Pine  Brook. 

My  descriptions  have  doubtless  made  this  fact  plain :  that  the  proper 
entrance  to  Manhattan  Island  for  evdry  touring  wheelman  from  the  south  or 
west,  who  wishes  to  ride  there,  or  to  prolong  his  journey  to  the  north  or  east, 
is  at  130th  St.  (ferry  from  Fort  Lee),  instead  of  at  the  down-town  ferries  con- 
nected with  the  termini  of  the  five  great  railway  lines.     My  recommendation 


AROUND  NEW-YORK,  85 

to  a  cycler  who  may  be  brought  by  train  to  any  one  of  the  four  below 
Weekawken,  is  to  push  westward  with  his  wheel  to  the  top  of  Bergen  hill,  or 
else,  as  a  second  choice,  to  try  one  of  the  two  specified  ascents  above 
Hoboken,  and  thence  face  northward  to  Fort  Lee.  The  stranger,  however, 
may  readily  utilize  the  ferries  to  shorten  the  northward  wheeling  distance, 
and  at  the  same  time  give  himself  a  chance  to  watch  the  river  traffic.  Thus, 
if  he  leaves  the  Jersey  Central  train,  down  opposite  the  Battery,  its  boat  will 
land  him  at  Liberty  St.,  one  block  above  which  he  can  take  the  Pennsylvania 
road's  boat  back  to  Taylor's  Hotel,  and  its  other  boat  across  again  to 
Desbrosses  st.  Four  blocks  above  this,  and  \  m.  below  Christopher  St.,  is 
the  starting  point  of  a  line  of  steamboats  for  Fort  Lee ;  and  as  these  also 
make  a  landing  near  the  foot  of  23d  St.,  the  traveler  who  comes  in  by  Erie 
train  may  sail  all  the  way  to  130th  St.,  and  disembark  there  after  only  two 
changes  of  boats.  Those  who  disembark  from  the  down-town  boats  of  the 
other  three  railways,  at  Liberty  St.,  Cortlandt  st.  or  Barclay  st.,  need  walk  less 
than  half  a  mile  to  reach  the  Erie  boat  at  Chambers  st.,. which  will  take  them 
back  across  the  river  to  the  other  Erie  boat  for  23d  st. ;  and,  in  like  manner, 
the  D.,  L.  &  W.  boat  up  to  Hoboken  may  be  taken  at  Barclay  st.  by  passen- 
gers from  the  other  three  railways,  who  prefer  this  double  passage  of  the 
river,  with  a  little  walking  on  the  New  York  side,  to  the  task  of  pushing  a 
bicycle  two  or  three  miles  on  the  sidewalks  and  back^streets  of  Jersey  City. 

Along  this  two  miles  of  river  front,  from  "  Pier  i  "  at  the  Battery  to 
"  Pier  51 "  at  Christopher  St.,  the  docks  are  continuous,  and  serve  as  points  of 
departure  for  nearly  all  the  ocean  steamers,  as  well  as  for  a  great  number 
of  others  which  ply  to  points  on  the  Sound,  the  rivers  and  the  sea  coast.  The 
famous  "  floating  palaces  "  for  Albany  and  Troy  at  the  north,  for  New  Lon- 
don, Stonington,  Providence  and  Fall  River  at  the  east,  all  start  within  \  m. 
of  Desbrosses  st. ;  and  the  three  last-named  lines,  which  conduct  an  immense 
passenger  traffic  with  Boston,  start  within  less  than  \  m.  of  the  City  Hall. 
The  connection  between  all  these  docks  and  piers  and  ferry-houses  is  West 
st,  which  extends  in  front  of  them,  its  inner  side  alone  being  solidly  lined 
with  buildings ;  and  South  st.  performs  a  similar  service  for  the  two  miles  of 
docks  which  stretch  upwards  from  the  Battery  along  the  east  side,  the  great 
Brooklyn  Bridge  being  suspended  over  them  at  about  the  half-way  point. 
Each  of  these  streets  is  poorly  paved  and  is  usually  crowded  with  heavy 
traffic,  so  that  the  horse-cars  of  the  east-side  and  west-side  Belt  lines  make 
slow  progress  through  them,  and  are  often  delayed  by  "  blocking."  The  lines 
take  their  name  from  the  fact  that,  starting  at  the  Battery,  they  keep  quite 
near  the  opposite  edges  of  the  island,  until  they  join  each  other  again  at  59th 
St.,  the  lower  border  of  Central  Park.  The  east-side  Belt  runs  through  Av. 
D  to  14th  St.,  through  A  v.  A  to  23d  st,  and  through  ist  av.  to  59th  St.,  while 
the  west-side  Belt  runs  through  loth  av.,  which  is  a  prolongation  of  West  st. 
above  14th  st.  I  believe  these  lines  are  the  only  ones  in  the  city  which  are 
chartered  to  transport  baggage  as  well  as  passengers ;  and  the  bicycler  may 


86 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


always  be  sure  that,  for  a  fee  of  5  or  lo  cents,  he  can  get  his  wheel  carried, 
on  the  front  platform  of  a  Belt  car,  to  the  point  on  59th  st.  where  he  may  at 
once  touch  the  macadamized  roads  to  the  northward,  either  at  8th  av.,  at  5th 
av.,  or  at  Av.  A.  On  the  other  lines,  I  presume  that  a  quarter-dollar,  or  per- 
haps a  smaller  perquisite,  would  quiet  any  scruples  wKich  the  commander  of 
the  car  might  have  about  admitting  a  bicycle  to  the  platform,  when  no  passen- 
gers were  crowding  it.  I  recollect  that  no  objection  was  made  when  I  brought 
my  machine  down  from  i  i6th  st.  to  59th  st.,  on  an  8th  av.  car ;  though  I  was 
then  able  to  pack  it  in  smaller  compass  than  usual,  on  account  of  having 
broken  it  in  two.  On  general  principles,  I  should  caution  a  stranger  against 
hiring  a  city  expressman  to  transport  his  wheel,  unless  he  is  content  to  see  it 
put  up  at  sheriff's  sale,  to  pay  for  "  charges."  Perhaps  even  then  he  would 
have  to  go  to  Ludlow  Street  Jail,  until  his  friends  at  home  could  raise  the 
cash  balance  still  due  to  the  honest  carrier. 

The  keepers  of  the  railway  baggage-rooms  in  the -ferry-houses  will  give 
an  official  receipt  (brass  check)  for  a  bicycle  left  in  their  charge,  but  '^  their 
charge "  will  be  a  quarter-dollar,  when  it  is  redeemed.  Such  storage-places, 
in  addition  to  their  safety,  and  their  convenience  to  a  man  who  wishes  to  go 
about  the  city  a  little  before  taking  his  wheel  up  to  130th  st.  by  the  river 
ferries,  or  to  59th  st.  by  Belt  car,  have  the  special  merit  of  being  accessible  at 
all  hours  of  the  night  as  well  as  of  the  day.  A  tourist  entering  the  city  dur- 
ing business  hours  (8  a.  m.  to  6  P.  m.),  at  any  of  the  designated  ferries  between 
Liberty  st.  and  Chambers  St.,  will  always  be  welcomed  to  temporary  storage 
for  his  wheel  at  the  office  of  the  Pope  Manufacturing  Co.,  12  Warren  St., 
which  is  next  south  of  Chambers  St.,  and  which  extends  from  the  river  to 
the  City  Hall  Park  at  Broadway,  \  m.  At  the  entrance  of  its  salesroom  may 
be  seen  the  old  original  "  Columbia  No.  234  "  (as  explained  on  p.  48),  making 
a  mute  appeal  for  '*  1,000  more  supporters  "  for  this  present  true  history  of  its 
strange  life  and  adventures.  Second  only  in  importance  to  my  remarkable 
bicycle,  there  stands  hard  by  another  unique  object,  which  has  helped  it  to 
give  celebrity  to  the  city :  I  mean  the  great  structure  spanning  the  East 
River, — "the  largest  bridge  in  the  world," — whose  terminus  is  just  across 
the  park.  The  length  of  the  bridge  considerably  exceeds  a  mile  (5,989  ft.), 
and  its  bre^ldth  (85  ft.)  allows  a  central  promenade  (13  ft.)  for  foot  passengers, 
two  railroad  tracks  on  which  run  passenger-cars  propelled  by  a  stationary 
engine  at  the  Brooklyn  end,  and  two  broad  roadways  for  vehicles,  on  the 
outer  sides.  The  central  span  across  the  water,  hung  from  towers  whose  tops 
(measuring  120  ft.  by  40  ft.)  are  278  ft.  above  its  surface,  is  1,595  feet  long ; 
the  span  on  each  side,  from  the  tower  to  the  anchorage,  is  930  feet  long ;  the 
approach  from  the  terminus  to  the  anchorage  is  1,562}  ft.  long  on  the  city 
side  and  971  ft.  on  the  Brooklyn  side  ;  the  height  of  the  floor,  at  the  towers, 
above  high-water  mark,  is  119J  ft.  and  it  increases  thence  to  the  center  where 
it  is  135  ft.  above.  The  Brooklyn  terminus  is  68  ft.  above  high  tide.  The 
grade  of  the  roadway  is  3}  ft.  in  100  ft.;  and  its  material  is  stone  blocks  along 


AROUND  NEW-YORK,  87 

the  approaches,  and  transverse  planks  in  the  center.  Construction  began 
January  2,  1870,  and  the  bridge  was  opened  May  24,  1883.  Its  cost  has  ex- 
ceeded $15,000,000.^ 

The  only  time  that  I  ever  honored  this  celebrated  structure  by  driving 
"No.  234"  across  it,  was  on  March  25,  1884,  when  I  felt  constrained  to  do 
something  extraordinary  by  way  of  celebrating  my  wheel's  happy  escape  from 
beneath  the  heavy  hand  of  the  United  States  Government,  and  by  way  of 
compensating  it  for  the  ignominy  of  a  week's  enforced  association  with  the 
underlings  of  the  custom-house.  As  all  eastward-bound  vehicles  cross  in  the 
south  roadway  of  the  bridge,  and  all  westward-bound  ones  in  the  north  road- 
way, there  is  no  chance  for  collision,  and  the  path  is  wide  enough  to  allow 
a  bicycler  to  ride  past  a  team  which  may  be  moving  too  slowly.  He  himself 
will  probably  prefer  to  move  rather  slowly,  however,  both  in  order  that  he 
may  better  enjoy  the  view,  and  because  the  surface  is  not  favorable  to  rapid 
riding, — ^to  say  nothing  of  the  upward  half  of  the  grade.  Perhaps  the  southern 
roadway  affords  the  rider  a  finer  outlook,  though  the  views  on  both  sides  the 
bridge  are  wonderfully  attractive,  and  no  visitor  to  the  city  should  miss  the 
enjoyment  of  them.  The  pedestrians'  promenade  in  the  center,  having  an 
unobstructed  outlook  in  both  directions,  may  be  recommended  as  the  prefer- 
able place  for  the  sight-seer*  and  caution  may  be  offered  against  the  gratings 
in  the  stone-paved  approaches  of  the  bridge,  as  liable  to  entrap  the  tires  of  a 
bicycle.  The  boats  of  Fulton  Ferry  start  just  below  the  bridge-tower  on  the 
Brooklyn  side, — though  they  are  \  m.  below  the  tower  on  the  New  York 
side, — ^and  in  each  city  they  start  from  the  terminus  of  a  thoroughfare  called 
Fulton  St.  The  other  terminus  of  this,  in  New  York,  at  West  St.,  is  within 
two  blocks  of  the  ferries  at  Cortlandt  st.  and  Barclay  st.  (f  m.);  but  a  tourist 
who  enters  the  island  at  either  of  those  points  and  wishes  to  take  ferry  to 
Brooklyn,  is  recommended  to  trundle  his  wheel  down  Broadway  to  Trinity 
Church,  and  thence  through  the  famous  "  gold-mine  "  which  it  faces,  to  Wall 
Street  Ferry,  whose  boat  will  land  him  at  the  foot  of  Montague  st.  Walking 
to  the  top  of  the  hill,  30  or  40  rods,  he  may  wheel  thence  without  dismount, 
mostly  on  asphalt,  to  the  entrance  to  Prospect  Park  (2J  m.),  which  is  the 
object  that  all  New  Yorkers  have  in  view,  whenever  they  go  to  Brooklyn. 

The  distinguishing  section  of  this  route  is  supplied  by  Schermerhorn  St., 
an  asphalt  stretch  of  }  m.,  included  between  Flatbush  av.,  from  which  it 
Starts  diagonally,  and  Clinton  St.,  which  terminates  it  at  right  angles ;  and  this 
terminus  is  the  point  towards  which  wheelmen's  routes  converge  from  all  the 
lower  ferries  of  Brooklyn.  Thus,  from  the  Wall  Street  Ferry,  the  rider 
should  go  \  m.  on  Montague  st.  and  then  turn  right  for  \  m.  on  Clinton  st.,  to 
reach  the  point  in  question.  From  South  Ferry,  he  should  go  \  m.  on  the 
Belgian  blocks  of  Atlantic  st.,  then  turn  left  into  Henry  st.  (which  is  paral- 
lel to  Clinton  st,  and,  like  it,  stretches  straight  southward  from  Fulton  st.  to 


l*'AppIetons*  Dictionary  of  New  York,"  p.  79. 


88  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Gowanus  Bay,  i^  in.)»  then  right,  into  Joralemon  St.,  then  right,  into  Clinton 
St.  From  Hamilton  Ferry  (which  is  considerably  further  south,  though  its 
New  York  landing  is  at  the  Battery,  close  to  South  Ferry),  he  should  go 
through  Hamilton  av.  to  Union  st.  and  then  to  Henry  St.,  where  his  route  will 
be  the  same  as  before  given, — the  whole  distance  being  asphalt  except  a  few 
rods  of  stone  at  the  ferry.  From  Fulton  Ferry  he  should  walk  up  the  hill, 
one  block  to  the  right,  to  Columbia  Heights,  upon  whose  broad  western  side- 
walk he  may  wheel  \  m.  without  dismount,  to  Montague  st.  This  same  route 
should  also  be  taken  by  passengers  from  Catharine  Street  Ferry,  and  it  may 
be  taken  by  passenger  who  comes  over  the  Bridge, — though  in  each  case 
there  will  be  need  of  a  preliminary  \  m.  of  sidewalk  business.  A  more 
direct  route  from  the  Bridge  terminus  is  to  follow  the  sidewalk  of  Fulton  st. 
for  \  m.,  until  Clinton  st.  is  met,  branching  off  diagonally  to  the  right ;  or 
else  to  reach  Henry  st.  by  going  a  few  rods  along  any  one  of  the  side  streets 
which  branch  off  to  the  west  from  Fulton  st. 

It  will  appear  from  the  foregoing  that  a  tourist  who  lands  in  New  York 
at  any  of  the  ferries  on  West  St.,  and  who  prefers  (instead  of  visiting  Wall 
St.,  as  suggested)  to  follow  that  same  street  down  to  the  Battery  (either  on 
foot,  or  in  a  Belt  car),  may  there  begin  a  long  or  short  sail  across  to  landings 
in  Brooklyn,  which  are  almost  directly  connected  with  the  asphalt  pave- 
ments, that  reach  without  break  to  Schermerhom  st.  The  Battery  is 
also  the  starting  point  of  the  ferry  boats  for  Staten  Island.  Brook- 
lyn, however,  by  means  of  the  so-called  annex  boats,  which  start  from  Ful- 
ton Ferry,  has  direct  water  communication  with  all  the  railway  termini 
on  the  Jersey  side  of  the  Hudson;  and  the  traveler  from  the  south  or  west 
is  thus  enabled  to  reach  Long  Island  without  setting  foot  in  the  city  at  all. 
Assuming  him  now  to  be  at  the  head  of  Schermerhom  st.,  whatever  route  may 
have  brought  him  there,  I  remark  that  its  asphalt  usually  has  holes  enough 
to  demand  careful  riding,  and  that  the  act  of  getting  over  the  horse-car  tracks, 
at  several  of  the  cross  streets,  is  sometimes  rather  troublesome.  Belgian 
blocks,  of  easily  ridable  surface,  will  be  found  on  Flatbush  av.,  where  one 
leaves  Schermerhom  St.,  and  also  between  7th  av.  and  the  Park  terminus ; 
but  most  of  its  south-side  pavement  is  asphalt,  as  far  as  7th  av.,  down  which 
(or  down  6th  av.)  one  may  continue  on  asphalt  to  Lincoln  pi.,  or  to  Berke- 
ley pi.,  and  then  ride  up  the  hill,  still  on  asphalt,  by  either  of  those  parallel 
streets,  to  the  stone-paved  circle,  known  as  the  Plaza,  which  forms  the 
entrance  to  Prospect  Park, — i  m.  from  the  end  of  Schermerhom  st.  The 
most  direct  route  from  Fulton  Ferry  to  that  point  is  through  Fulton  st.  and 
Flatbush  av.  (ij  m.);  and  a  stranger  who  may  have  any  curiosity  to  see  the 
City  Hall,  or  the  shops  of  the  chief  business  thoroughfare,  can  trundle  his 
wheel  in  that  direction  and  occasionally  improve  a  chance  for  riding  it  on  the 
sidewalk  flags  or  the  Belgian  blocks  of  the  roadway.  The  United  States 
Navy  Yard  may  be  entered  at  the  City  Park,  which  is  less  than  i  m.  from  the 
City  Hall,  and  which  may  be  reached  more  directly  by  going  through  Sands 


AROUND  NEW-YORK.  89 

St.,  at  the  tenninus  of  the  Bridge.  The  Naval  Hospital  is  near  the  other  ex- 
tremity of  the  government  grounds,  i  m.  east  of  the  City  Park,  and  with- 
in ^  m.  of  Bedford  av.,  which  is  an  important  thoroughfare  (mostly  of  asphalt 
surface),  beginning  at  Division  av.  {\  m.  from  the  ferries  leading  to  Grand  st. 
and  Roosevelt  st.  in  New  York),  and  stretching  thence  southward,  2\  m.,  to  the 
Eastern  Boulevard,  at  a  point  |-  m.  west  of  the  end  of  its  macadam,  and  i}  m. 
east  of  its  beginning,  at  the  stone-paved  Plaza  before  Prospect  Park. 

The  area  of  ground  contained  in  this  is  550  acres,  and  purchase  was 
made  in  June,  1866,  for  $5,000,000.  The  lake  covers  6t  acres,  and  is  over- 
looked by  the  "carriage  concourse"  (186  feet  above  the  ocean-level,  but 
easily  accessible  by  bicycle),  whence  a  fine  view  may  be  had.  The  "  drives  " 
for  carriages  extend  over  a  distance  of  8  m.,  there  are  3^  m.  of  bridle-road, 
and  1 1  m.  of  pedestrian  pathways  and  rambles,  lined  with  fine  old  trees,  and 
amply  supplied  with  drinking  fountains,  arbors  and  rustic  seats. ^  Nearly  all 
the  walks  afford  a  good  wheeling  surface  of  concrete  or  else  hardened  gravel ; 
and  the  bicycler  may  well  disport  himself  upon  them  for  two  or  three  hours, 
in  a  leisurely  exploration  of  all  their  various  turns  and  windings;  for  no 
restriction  has  ever  been  put  upon  such  use  of  the  walks,  since  the  earliest 
recorded  da3rs  of  Brooklyn  bicycling  in  '79-  ^ut,  if  he  wishes  to  treat  the 
central  walk  of  the  park  as  a  thoroughfare  for  reaching  the  lower  entrance, 
he  will  find  the  distance  thither  to  be  2  m.,  divided  about  midway  by  "  the 
gardens,"  where  he  will  have  to  dismount  and  take  his  wheel  down  the 
steps  and  across  the  road ;  and  he  is  advised  to  dismount  also  at  the  next 
crossing.  Entrance  is  made  to  '*  the  gardens  "  on  an  up-grade,  from  under 
an  arch ;  and  a  turn  up-hill  to  the  right  will  take  one  to  the  "  concourse " 
before  named,  while  a  turn  to  the  left  will  lead  across  the  road  without  the 
necessity  of  climbing  down  any  steps.  Still  a  fourth  route  may  be  taken  at 
"  the  gardens  "  by  going  down  the  steps  towards  the  lake,  and  following  the 
path  which  skirts  it :  finally  crossing  the  "  west  drive "  and  taking  a  path 
down  to  the  park  entrance,  just  opposite  the  end  of  the  more  direct  path. 

From  this  southern  entrance  or  exit  of  the  park,  there  stretches  the  Bou- 
levard—officially termed  the  Ocean  Parkway,  200  ft.  wide  and  6  m.  long — 
directly  down  to  the  ocean  beach  of  Coney  Island.  After  a  short  westward 
torn  from  the  entrance,  it  extends  due  south,  though  there  is  one  broad  angle 
near  the  end  which  causes  a  variation  from  a  perfectly  straight  line.  The 
broad  central  roadway  of  the  Boulevard  is  separated  from  the  narrower  road- 
ways on  each  side,  by  sidewalks  shaded  with  double  rows  of  trees,  and  it  can 
be  ridden  in  either  direction  without  dismount,  at  almost  any  time  between 
March  and  December,  though  the  condition  of  its  surface  greatly  varies 
with  the  seasons.  It  is  often  thronged  with  pleasure  vehicles  (especially  its 
northern  half),  and  it  witnesses  a  great  deal  of  fast  driving  and  racing, — 
stones,  marking  \  m.,  being  prominently  placed  along  its  west  side,  for  the 


l^AppIetont'  Dictionary  of  New  York,'*  p.  46,  somewhat  altered. 


90 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


benefit  of  those  who  wish  to  time  themselves.  The  grades  are  unimportant, 
though  they  sometimes  call  a  halt  when  the  surface  is  muddy,  or  when  the 
road-master's  roller  has  been  too  long  absent.  At  the  ocean  side,  one  may 
comfortably  wheel,  on  concrete  or  plank  walks,  to  Vanderveer's  Hotel,  on 
the  west  (open  all  the  year  round),  or  to  the  more  fashionable  Brighton  and 
Manhattan  hotels  on  the  east,  which  are  open  only  from  June  to  October. 
During  that  interval,  the  return  may  be  made  to  New  York  or  Brooklyn  by 
various  lines  of  steamboats  and  railway  cars ;  but  the  man  who  wheels  back 
must  simply  retrace  his  outward  course, — ^though  the  map  shows  a  highway 
stretching  through  Gravesend,  New  Utrecht,  Fort  Hamilton  and  Bay  Ridge 
to  the  west  side  of  Greenwood  Cemetery,  whose  eastern  border  is  quite  near 
the  southern  entrance  to  Prospect  Park. 

Two  miles  east  of  its  northern  entrance,  where  the  macadam  of  the  Bou- 
levard ends,  the  tourist  may  turn  to  the  left,  and  then  proceed  northeastward, 
by  rather  rough  road  to  East  New  York  (i  m.),  where  he  will  strike  what  is 
called  the  Jamaica  plank  road  (though  its  surface  is  mostly  rough  and  rutty 
macadam,  rather  than  planks) ;  whose  first  toll-gate  is  met  in  about  i  m.,  and 
the  second  one  in  }  m.    This  is  just  3  m.  from  the  end  of  the  Boulevard  (as 
measured  by  me  July  30,  *8o,  and  April  7,  *84),  and  on  the  latter  date  I  had 
an  excellent  spin  for  about  2\  m.,  or  until  I  passed  under  the  railway.    Ja- 
maica is  about  2  m.  beyond  this ;  but  I  only  proceeded  half  that  distance 
before  turning  off  into  the  Hoffman  Boulevard,  a  sandy  and  hilly  thorough- 
fare, much  of  it  unridable,  which  extends   northward  to  Newtown,  4J  m. 
Macadam  stretches  thence  westward  through  Winfield,  and  up  a  steep  hill 
which  I  was  barely  able  to  ride  (July  13,  1S80),  for  almost  2m.;  followed  by 
i(  m.  of  poor  sidewalks,  to  Queens  County  Court  House,  and  then  i  m.  of 
smooth  flagstones,  to  Hunter's  Point  Ferry.    This  route  from  Newtown  may 
be  varied  by  turning  northward  from  the  macadam,  \  m.  after  crossing  the 
railroad  at  Winfield,  and  going  i  m.  more  by  a  somewhat  winding  course  to 
'*  Dickinson's  "  a  well-known  cross-roads  tavern,  and  thence  i\  m.  to  Astoria 
Ferry,  which  is  the  northernmost  connection  between  Long  Island  and  New 
York.    Its  opposite  landing  is  at  92d  St.,  just  above  Blackwell's  Island,  but 
its  boats  also  make  a  half-dozen  passages  daily  down  to  Beekman  st.,  adjoin- 
ing Fulton*  Ferry,  6m.  below.    My  earliest  printed  road-report  describes  a 
ride  from  Astoria  Ferry  (Aug.  29,  '79),  "  northward,  along  the  flags  of  the 
sidewalk,  for  about  \  m.,  till  the  macadam  is  reached  at  the  top  of  a  hill  by 
a  church, — on  Trafford  st.,  I  think.    Thence  a  down-grade  leads  to  the  shore 
road,  which  is  excellent  for  more  than  a  mile,  though  a  short,  rough  hill  re- 
quires a  single  dismount.    The  view  of  the  Sound  just  above  Hell  Gate  is 
before  the  rider  all  the  while,  and  is  a  very  pretty  one.    Afterwards,  at  the 
street  whose  terminus  is   just  south  of  the  ferry,  beside  the  bridge  over  Suns- 
wick  Creek,  and  whose  name  I  think  is  Broadway,  I  rode  due  east  on  the  dirt 
and  flag  sidewalks  for  i  m.  or    more.    By  turning  left,  I  might  then  have 
reached  the  direct  road  for  Flushing,  which  I  tried  on  a  return  journey  some 


tvme  later;  but  I  should  recommciid  the  (i.ii.j 
shore  Toad, before  aeBcrit>«cJ.  and  Kk-h  iu.u  J; 
at  a  point  z  m.  from  tli«  t^rry.  Hi*  ti/ii  loui. 
md  thongh  1  am  i*miC»:jt^a.int.cd  wilh  I  lie  l^itr, 
be  more  AiBagreeable  cliAn  the  2  >ii.  '^  dm, 
inn  [be  bridge  aX  tbe  £«3-r>',  wlii>.li  I  •j.a*,,. 
ia^^anKS  I  m,  '■rit.ki'iiul  ditoiii'juiii,  I;  <in  j, 
dec  1  m.  moce  i*rr:±ic*txi  cl>r.tKvuuiii  tv  iix  l>.ii .  , 
Thtt  fell     iaiKifc     «»*sa»;--%-     t.(*j«<Biu ,  aj    ^., 


92 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


prominent  enough  to  serve  as  a  landmark  is  the  Williamsburg  Savings  Bank, 
whose  dome  can  be  seen  from  quite  a  distance.  It  may  serve  to  pilot  the 
wheelman  to  the  head  of  Bedford  av.,  \  m.  south  and  west.  A  fountain  marks 
the  head  of  the  avenue,  whence  one  may  go  on  the  Belgian  pavement  of  4th 
St.  four  blocks  to  Broadway,  and  thence  four  blocks  to  the  ferry. 

Prospect  Park,  in  Brooklyn,  seems  always  to  have  been  managed  by  men 
of  intelligence,  whose  governing  motive  has  been  to  make  it  as  pleasant  a 
resort  as  possible  for  all  classes  of  citizens ;  instead  of  a  red-tape  labyrinth  for 
the  exhibition  of  "  rules,"  or  a  piece  of  political  plunder  whose  "  patronage  " 
might  help  their  own  personal  aggrandizement.  Hence,  though  it  is  sorne^ 
what  illogical  in  the  managers  to  welcome  cyclers  to  the  walks  (where  wheels 
do  not  properly  belong)  and  to  exclude  them  from  the  macadamized  roadways 
*  (where  they  by  right  ought  to  be,  with  the  other  pleasure  carriages),  their 
mistake  is  one  of  judgment,  and  it  causes  little  practical  inconvenience.  They 
were  quick,  at  the  very  outset,  to  recognize  bicycling  as  an  attractive  and 
gentlemanly  pastime,  well-worthy  of  their  approval  and  encouragement ;  and 
their  rules  concerning  it,  however  unwise  they  may  be  in  fact,  or  unjust  in 
theory — were  based  upon  that  friendly  belief,  and  not  upon  stupidity,  nor 
perversity  nor  narrow-minded  ill-will.  The  Park  Commissioners  of  New  York, 
on  the  other  hand,  seem  to  be  a  rather  ignorant  and  dull-witted  set  of  people, 
whose  quarrels  and  "  dead-locks  **  over  the  great  question,  "  How  to  make  '  a 
fair  divvy '  of  the  patronage  }  "  have  been  for  years  one  of  the  minor  scandals  of 
metropolitan  government.  The  average  intellectual  caliber  of  men  who  let  a 
magnificent  popular  pleasure-ground  fall  into  decay  while  they,  its  appointed 
conservators,  devote  most  of  their  official  lives  to  wrangling  over  the  engage- 
ment of  John  Smith  as  gate-tender  or  the  dismissal  of  John  Brown  as  cart- 
driver,  is  evidently  not  large  enough  for  the  easy  reception  of  new  ideas. 
Hence  comes  about  the  absurdly  amusing  anachronism  that  the  managers  of 
the  most  famous  public  park  of  the  most  enterprising  and  novelty-welcoming 
nation  on  the  face  of  the  globe  have  decided  to  "  write  themselves  down  *'  in 
history  at  the  very  last  end  in  the  list  of  obstructionists,  who  will  have  finally 
been  forced  to  submit  to  the  inevitable  and  grant  wheelmen  the  simple  justice 
of  "  equal  park-privileges  "  with  other  citizens.  The  rulers  of  Central  Park 
may  putter  and  palaver  with  the  plain  commands  of  Fate  for  a  while  longer, 
but  the  ultimate  execution  of  those  commands  is  just  as  inexorable  as  if  they 
were  addressed  to  people  endowed  with  a  better  capacity  for  recognizing 
manifest  destiny. 

Nearly  six  years  ago,  I  printed  a  half-column  letter  in  one  of  the  city 
dailies,^  saying*  "The  announcement  that  the  Park  Commissioners,  at  their 
yesterday's  session,  decided  '  unanimously '  against  the  admission  of  bicycles 
to  Central  Park,  though  it  may  seem  to  the  uninitiated  like  a  final  settlement 
of  the  question,  in  reality  only  serves  to  open  it.    There  are  at  present  prob- 


1  In  TAe  IVorld,  October  37,  1879,  fifth  page,  fourth  column. 


AROUND  NEW'YORK,  93 

ably  no  more  than  a  dozen  or  fifteen  bicycle  riders  in  the  city,  and  as  they  are 
unorganized  and  unacquainted  with  each  other,  it  is  plain  that  the '  unanimous 
negative '  of  the  Commissioners  was  called  forth  by  the  petition  of  only  a 
very  few  individuals.  When  the  number  of  metropolitan  bicyclers  increases 
to  100,  as  it  surely  will  within  twelve  months,  or  to  500,  as  it  probably  will 
within  two  years,  their  right  to  share  the  benefit  of  the  public  parks  can 
hardly  be  disputed  by  any  one.  When,  then,  the  bicycle  riders  shall  outnum> 
ber  the  horseback  riders,  though  they  may  not  demand  the  *  equal  justice '  of 
having  a  like  number  of  roads  built  for  tkeir  exclusive  use,  they  will  surely 
have  influence  enough  to  gain  for  their  wheels  the  full  freedom  of  rolling 
along  the  existing  roads.  «  «  *  After  all,  however,  it  may  happen  that 
the  metropolitan  bicyclers  of  the  future  will  not  ride  in  Central  Park.  The 
dreadful  possibility  that  I  refer  to  is  that  the  Park  of  the  future  may  not  be  a 
fit  place  for  a  gentleman  to  ride  in.  Certainly,  if  its  paths  and  other  belong- 
ings are  allowed  to  go  towards  destruction  as  rapidly  in  the  immediate  future 
as  they  have  gone  during  the  brief  period  since  Mr.  Frederick  Law  Olmsted 
was  so  politely  thrown  overboard  by  the  revolution  of  a  machine  which  is 
not  a  bicycle  (I  mean  the  machine  called  *  city  politics '),  no  bicycler  will 
have  any  inducement  to  visit  it,  except  it  be  the  mournfully  sentimental  one 
of  gazing  upon  a  magnificent  ruin." 

Surreptitious  spins  on  the  park  paths  and  roads  were  occasionally 
indulged  in,  during  i879-*8o,  mostly  "  'neath  the  light  of  the  midnight  moon," 
by  youngish  riders  who  cared  less  for  their  own  personal  dignity  than  for  the 
adventurous  "  fun  "  of  slipping  noiselessly  past  the  drowsy  guardians  of  the 
forbidden  domain ;  but,  in  the  spring  of  1881,  the  clubs  of  the  city  united  in 
a  formal  petition  that  their  just  right  to  enjoy  its  privileges  be  recognized. 
A  favorable  report  was  made,  on  the  ist  of  June,  by  that  one  of  the  Park 
Commissioners  to  whom  the  matter  was  referred,  as  a  special  committee  (S. 
H.  Wales,  resigned  April  4,  1885);  but  the  majority  "  objected,"  and  so  put 
upon  the  wheelmen  the  necessity  of  making  a  test-case.  Accordingly,  at  about 
9  A.  M.  of  Saturday,  July  2, — a  forenoon  made  memorable  by  the  assassin- 
shot  fired  at  President  Garfield, — ^three  of  their  representatives  entered  the 
park  at  6th  av.  and  i  loth  St.:  H.  H.  Walker,  T>f  the  Manhattan  (aged  33), 
riding  a  bicycle,  and  S.  C.  Foster  and  W.  M.  Wright,  of  the  Mercury  (aged 
28  and  26  respectively),  riding  a  tricycle.  Their  arrest  quickly  followed,  as 
by  arrangement  with  the  captain  of  police,  and,  after  the  few  hours'  detention 
needed  for  the  formalities  of  refusing  to  pay  a  $5  fine  and  of  securing  a 
release  on  parole,  the  long-talked-of  suit  against  the  Park  Commissioners 
was  fairly  under  way.  More  than  a  year  later,  Judge  Lawrence,  in  Supreme 
Court,  Chambers,  decided  it  by  saying  that  he  would  not  interfere  with  the 
judgment  of  the  Commissioners,  though  he  made  no  pretense  of  defending  that 
judgment;  and  in  March,  1883,  the  Supreme  Court,  in  full  bench,  sustained 
this  technical  decision, "  not  to  grant  the  petition  for  a  writ  of  habtiis  corpus**^ 

I  An  abstract  of  this  was  given  in    Tkt  tf^Aeel,  July  19,  i88a,  p.  172;  an  abstract  of  the 


94 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Public  opinion,  as  represented  by  the  press,  arrayed  itself  with  constantly 
increasing  emphasis  on  the  side  of  the  cyclers,  during  these  two  years  of 
"  lawing,"  however ;  and  "  politics  "  had  meanwhile  substituted  one  or  two 
men  of  modern  ideas  for  the  *'  objectors  "  of  the  old-red-sandstone  period,  in 
the  composition  of  the  Board ;  so  that,  when  the  League  voted  to  have  its 
fourth  annual  parade  in  New  York,  permission  was  graciously  granted  the 
paraders  to  wheel  through  the  park.  The  appearance  of  700  of  them  there 
(May  28,  1883)  served  still  further  to  fix  popular  approval,  and  Commis- 
sioner Viele,  in  responding  to  a  toast  at  the  evening's  banquet  "  said  that  it 
was  the  first  day  in  many  months  in  which  there  had  been  no  accidents  in  the 
park  from  runaway  horses,  and  showed  by  the  whole  tenor  of  his  speech  that 
he  was  in  favor  of  allowing  wheelmen  all  the  privileges  accorded  to  horse- 
men." The  following  week,  June  8,  the  Park  Commissioners  voted  the  use 
of  the  "  west  drive  "  of  the  park  (59th  st.  at  8th  av.  to  iioth  st.  at  7th  av.), 
between  midnight  and  9  a.  m.,  to  such  members  of  the  League  as  the  Pres- 
ident thereof  might  recommend  them  to  issue  passes  to, — he  consenting  to  be 
held  responsible  for  the  conduct  of  these  favored  ones  while  in  the  park.  The 
privilege  was  soon  extended  so  as  to  include  the  Riverside  Drive ."  except 
between  3  and  7  p.  m."  ;  and  the  exception,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  was  never 
enforced.  In  fact,  after  the  first  few  weeks  of  the  experiment,  no  proper-ap- 
pearing bicycler  was  ever  asked  to  show  his  "  certificate,"  at  any  hour,  on  the 
Riverside  Drive, — ^and  very  rarely  was  he  asked  for  it  when  entering  the  park 
itself  before  9  a.  m.  Last  autumn,  however,  the  anger  of  the  authorities  was 
aroused  somewhat  by  the  sight  of  numerous  "  beginners,"  ununiformed  and 
unskilful,  wobbling  and  tumbling  about  the  lower  part  of  the  Drive ;  and,  as 
a  remedy,  the  orders  now  in  force  were  issued,  December  4,  1884. 

These  rules  ignore  the  League  in  favor  of  the  clubs,  and  substitute  for 
the  written  permit  (which  the  gate-keepers  were  too  lazy  to  demand  a  sight 
of)  a  metal  badge  ("  to  be  inscribed  with  the  owner's  name  and  worn  upon 
the  left  breast ")  of  such  monster  size  as  to  challenge  general  notice.  To 
wearers  of  these  badges,  the  Riverside  Drive  and  the  west  drive  of  the  park 
from  59th  St.  to  72d  st.,  are  open  at  all  hours ;  and  the  west  drive  from  72d 
st  to  iioth  St.  is  also  open  from  midnight  until  9  a.  m.;  except  that  tricycles 
are  not  admitted  to  the  park  at  all.  "  Lighted  lamps  must  be  carried  at 
night ;"  and  this  is  also  one  of  the  rules  of  Prospect  Park.  The  rule  that 
•*  badges  will  be  issued  only  to  competent  riders,  members  of  regularly  organ- 
ized and  uniformed  clubs,  whose  captains  will  be  held  responsible  for  the 
conduct  of  their  members,"  was  modified  in  January  so  as  to  include  those 
of  the  unattached  who  are  willing  to  prove  their  competency  by  a  display  of 

lawyers'  speeches,  April  la,  1882,  p.  X17;  the  report  of  CommissioQer  Wales,  with  suggested 
rules  for  bicycling  in  the  park,  Feb.  i,  1882,  p.  76 ;  Comments  of  "  J.  W."  upon  these  rules  and 
apon  a  volume  containing  940  pp.  of  "  testimony  in  the  case,"  Feb.  15,  1882,  p.  84.  The  expenses 
•f  litigation  were  borne  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  of  Boston,  and  amounted  to  nearly  58,ooo,  as  is 
explained,  with  other  details  of  the  case,  in  their  little  book,  "  What  and  Why,"  pp.  48-50. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK. 


95 


wheelmanship  satisfactory  to  a  representative  of  the  Commissioners,  "  who 
will  conduct  an  examination  of  candidates,  in  front  of  the  Arsenal,  every 
Friday  moming." 

In  process  of  time,  of  course,  all  this  tiresome  official  tomfoolery  will  be 
thrown  overboard  in  New  York,  just  as  all  similarly  silly  devices  (for  inter- 
fering with  the  right  of  cyclers)  have  already  been  thrown  overboard  by  every 
other  civilized  city  in  the  world.  No  vehicle  invented  by  man  ever  stood  in 
so  little  need  of  "  regulation  "  (to  prevent  interference  with  the  rights  and 
pleasures  of  others)  as  does  the  modem  bicycle  or  tricycle ;  and  the  only 
"rule  **  about  it  that  needs  enforcing  in  a  public  park  is  the  same  rule  that 
most  be  enforced  there  concerning  every  other  pleasure<arriage :  namely,  its 
expulsion  from  the  roads  whenever  the  incompetence  or  recklessness  of  its 
drirer  renders  it  a  public  nuisance.  The  incompetence  or  recklessness  of  our 
Park  Commissioners  has  insured  to  New  Yo^k  the  bad  eminence  of  standing 
hit  OQ  tbe  list  of  cities  whose  road-rulers  have  shown  the  mental  and  moral 
iSrecgth  requisite  for  grasping  this  simple  truth.  The  length  of  the  interval 
br  which  the  metropolis  of  America  is  destined  to  lag  behind  the  other  great 
nprals  of  the  world,  in  respect  to  doing  justice  to  cyclers,  may  be  shortened 
c  ±ree  ways:  (i)  by  increasing  the  pressure  of  public  opinion  upon  the  exist- 
=£  Coamiissioacrs ;  (2)  by  tT3ring  to  insure  the  accession  of  men  of  modem 

to  wacanoes  in  the  Board ;  (3)  by  carrying  the  test-case  to  the  Court  of 
in  order  that  final  judgment  may  there  be  pronounced  on  its  merits, 
tbe  ultimate  authority  of  the  Commissioners,  after  a  presentation  of 
by  the  ablest  of  lawyers.' 

791,**  on  the  east  side  of  Fifth  Avenue,  just  opposite  the  59th 


c  t   '  ^M  *  to  Centra]  Park,  was  the  wheelmen's  headquarters  in  the  early 

of  S40  acres  (exdosiye  of  the  15  acres  of  Manhattan  Square  and 
Psurk,  which  are  separated  frmn  it  bjr  8th  av.; ;  and  the  wcn-k  of 
of  rock  and  swamp  was  begun  in  1857, — the  credit  for  the  landscape 
to  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  and  Calvert  Vaux.     Its  length  exceeds  2}  m. 
79  ft.  move  than  \  m.    The  length  of  its  macadamized  carriage- 
width  of  54  ft  and  a  maximam  width  of  60  ft.,  is  about  9  m. ; 
bridle-patlis,  having  an  averse  width  of  i6|  ft.,  is  about  5I  m.;  and  the 
or  ioocpalhs,  having  an  average  breadth  of  13  fL  and  a  maximum  breadth  of 
y*if  WL.    The  wooded  gnmnd  coven  about  400  acres,  on  which  have  been  set  out, 
of  the  park,  nMve  than  500,000  trees,  shrubs  and  vines.    The  Croton  Reser- 
tcroas  its  entire  width,  maj  be  considered  as  separating  it  into  two 
the  northern  line  of  the  fcacrvoir  comprising  about  \  the  area  of  the 
^tes,  on  8th  av.,  are  at  59th.  72d,  79th,  85th,  96th,  looth  and  iioth 
pocs,  on  5th  av.,  are  at  the  same  streets,  except  that  90th  takes  the 
the  pboe  of  lOoth.    The  reaervoiis  have  an  area  of  143  acres,  and 
43  acres  additioaaL    A  description  has  already  been  given  of  the 
68)  wfnch  allow  the  east-and-west  traffic  to  go  on  beneath  the  level  of 
of  the  future  may  be  added*  for  the  sake  of  completeness,  con- 
vtodi  have  been  projected  annexed  district,  north  of 

VjBi  drtlandt  Park,  jost  line,  within  less  than  a 

■«o69 acres;  (2)  Bronx  farms,  and  William's 


96  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

years  of  metropolitan  cycling.  A  shabby  wooden  slructnre  there  supplied 
shelter  for  the  clubs,  whose  respective  "rooms"  wepe  inclose  connection 
with  the  office,  salesroom  and  repair-shop  of  a  bicycle  agency, — afterwards 
removed  to  59th  sL  The  establishment  of  G.  R,  Bidwell  &  Co.,  on  60th  st 
(No.  4),  now  offers  to  cyclers  in  that  part  of  the  city  all  needed  facilities  for 
repairs  or  storage.  Bicycles  and  tricycles  may  there  be  hired  (at  500.  or  75c, 
for  an  hour — %z  or  (3  for  a  day  of  twelve  hours)  for  use  upon  the  road ;  and 
learners  may  secure  the  aid  of  "  a  competent  instructor  of  six  years'  experi- 
ence," in  the  spacious  riding-school  on  the  second  floor,  which  extends  across 
the  front  of  Nos.  2  and  4.  Below  it  (No.  i)  are  the  rooms  of  the  Iiion  Bicy- 
cle Club,  for  two  years  occupied  by  the  Citiiens  Bicycle  Club,  whose  perma. 
nent  home  is  on  5gth  st.  (No.  313,  north  side,  a  few  doors  west  of  Sth  av.) 
Tlu  Wheel  of  April  18,  1884,  presented  a  picture  and  full  description  of  "  this 
first  house  ever  built  to  be  specially  and  entirely  devoted  to  the  use  of  a  bicy- 
cle club,"  and  praised  the  success  of  the  architect,  a  club-member,  who  de- 
signed it.  The  corner-stone  was  laid  December  27,  iSS^.  and  the  dedicatory 
reception  was  given  December  3,  1884.  The  material  of  the  house  is  brick 
and  terra-cotta,  and  it  covers  a  lot  measuring  100  by  zo^  ft.  In  order  to  have 
legal  possession  of  this  important  piece  of  property,  the  club  was  incor- 
porated under  the  laws  of  the  Slate,  August  30,  18S3  (though  its  organization 
dates  from  June  i,  iSSi) ;  and  its  printed  list  of  active  members  in  August, 
1884,  exhibited  76  names.  The  rooms  of  the  New  York  Bicycle  Club  (organ- 
ized December  iS.  1879,  and  having  41  active  members  and  7  honorary  ones, 
in  February,  1885),  are  in  the  building  at  the  comer  of  57th  St.  and  Broadway 
They  have  served  satisfactorily  as  headquarters  for  the  past  two  years ;  and 
as  the  club-janilor  is  housed  in  the  top  story,  entrance  can  be  had  at  any 
hour.  The  members  of  this  oldest  city  club  are  banded  together,  as  a  matter 
of  business  convenience,  for  riding  and  touring  purposes,— distinctively  if  not 
exclusively, — and,  while  not  lacking  in  esprit  for  the  organization  as  such, 
they  do  not  depend  at  alt  for  their  other  social  pleasures  upon  meetings  at 
the  club-house.    A  similar  characterization  may  be  applied  to  the  Brooklyn 

Bridge,  divided  by  Ihn  river,  6jj  aci» ;  (j)  Cnxona  Park,  below  N,  jd  ind  Boston  avi. ,  ijj 
acns ;  (4)  Mair'i  Park,  \a  Morriunia,  about  ij  arrei :  (^  Claremonl  Park,  aboui  |  m.  cut 
o(  High  Bridge,  jS  acr« ;  (6)  Pclham  Bay  Park,  on  Long  Islaod  Sound,  about  1,700  acra. 

■nd  ll  is  10  be  connecIRl  with  Broni  Park  and  Van  Cortland!  Paik  by  a  macadamized  boule- 
vard.—" Appleloni'  Dictionary  of  New  York,"  m>-  So,  =48,  umewhat  altered. 

Al  the  proent  writing  (April  14,  iSSj)  the  New  Pirki  Bill,  proposed  by  Mayor  Grace,  as  a 
■ubetilule  for  cbe  act  of  1&34,  whose  piovisjooa  ate  presented  above,  is  pending  beiore  the  New 
Yoik  Legiilatuce.  Tliia  tnll  reduces  the  local  area  oi  the  six  parks  from  1,945  acres  to  1,40a 
icRS,— cutriog  off  Pelham  Bay  Park  entirely,  and  lubitituling  for  it  Edgewater  Park  (]]  acns), 
now  known  ae  Spoflord's  Point  and  bounded  by  Edgewater  road,  Hunter '3  Point  rmd,  Farragut 
It.  and  the  shore  d(  tlie  Sound.  Tbe  bill  reduco  Van  dlonlandt  Park  Id  about  7J0  acm,  Brooi 
Park  10  about  ]oo  acres,  andCrotona  Park  to  90  acres;  and  il  limits  to  fi,o(jo,<>»  the  amount  to 
be  raised  by  tai  at  ihe  oulsel,  whereas  the  act  of  1S81  requires  the  issue  of  f],oao,ooo  in  bond*. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK. 


97 


Bicycle  Club  (organized  June  21,  i$79),  whose  rooms  are  at  366  Livingston 
St.,  corner  of  Flatbush  av.,  one  block  north  of  the  asphalt  of  Schermerhorn  st. 
The  new  headquarters  of  the  Long  Island  Wheelmen  (50  members)  are  i  m. 
beyond  this,  on  the  corner  of  Flatbush  av*  and  9th  a  v.,  just  at  the  entrance  of 
Prospect  Park.  The  rooms  of  the  Heights  Wheelmen  (at  159  Montague  st., 
north  side,  about  half-way  between  Henry  and  Clinton  sts.,  \  m.  from  the 
ferry),  are  very  generally  frequented  by  the  members,  as  a  sort  of  social 
resort,  in  much  the  same  way  that  the  Ixion  rooms  are  used,  in  New  York ; 
and  the  Brooklyn  Heights  Bicyclers,,  a  boys*  club,  store  their  wheels  near  by, 
at  188  Columbia  Heights.  In  the  Eastern  District,  the  rooms  of  the  Bedford 
Cycling  Club  (organized  October  5,  1884,  and  having  about  25  members)  are 
at  775  Bedford  av. ;  while  at  1 59  Clymer  st.,  just  off  from  the  asphalt  of  Bed- 
ford av.  stands  the  club-house  of  the  Kings  County  Wheelmen,  a  two- 
story  structure  of  brick,  newly  refitted  for  its  present  tenants.  Organized 
March  17,  188 1,  and  legally  incorporated  May  7,  1884,  this  club  has  always 
been  a  very  active  one  in  regard  to  the  management  of  racing  and  social 
"  events  " ;  and,  in  respect  to  the  number  and  enterprising  good-fellowship  of 
its  members,  it  ranks  as  a  sort  of  east-side  counterpart  of  the  Citizens  Bicycle 
Club,  of  New  York.  Its  house  is  within  J  m.  of  the  ferry,  and  is  quite  near 
the  rooms  long  occupied  by  the  club  at  138  Division  av. 

At  each  and  all  of  these  club-quarters,  the  visiting  wheelman  is  likely  to 
find  at  least  a  few  members  waiting  to  welcome  him,  on  almost  any  evening ; 
and,  on  Saturday  afternoons  and  Sunday  mornings,  he  will  be  likely  to  find 
several  of  them  ready  to  accompany  him  over  their  favorite  roads.  If  he 
reach  the  cluI>rooms  during  business  hours,  when  no  members  are  in  attend- 
ance, he  will  usually  find  a  janitor  in  charge,  to  whose  keeping  he  may  safely 
entrust  his  wheel.  A  storage  room  for  bicycles  may  also  be  found  in  the 
basement  of  "  the  magnificent  temple  of  the  New  York  Athletic  Club,"  on 
the  southwest  corner  of  6th  av.  and  55th  St.,  though  I  allude  to  it  chiefly  for 
the  sake  of  calling  the  stranger's  attention  to  the  existence  of  this  "  finest 
athletic  club-house  in  the  world,"  which  cost  $300,000,  and  was  taken  posses- 
sion of  by  its  members  in  February,  1885.  As  regards  the  rapidity  with  which 
the  visitor  may  make  combination  of  the  various  ferry-routes  which  I  have 
described  (pp.  85, 88, 91)  as  a  means  of  getting  around  the  city,  and  as  regards 
the  expensiveness  of  the  process,  I  may  say  that  the  ferries  near  the  foot  of 
the  island  make  very  frequent  passages,  and  charge  a  toll  of  one,  two  or 
three  cents ;  which  is  increased  to  ten  cents  in  the  case  of  the  Battery  boats 
to  Staten  Island,  the  "  annex  "  boats  connecting  Jersey  City  with  the  Brook- 
hn  end  of  the  Bridge,  and  the  East  River  boats  connecting  the  New  York 
end  of  the  Bridge  with  Astoria  and  Long  Island  City  (Hunter's  Point,  oppo- 
site 34th  St.).  A  tax  equal  to  the  toll  is  exacted  against  the  bicycle  on  most 
of  these  routes  (Staten  Island,  I  think,  is  one  of  the  exceptions) ;  whereas  the 
boats  at  130th  st.  (loc.),  42d  st.  (5c.)  and  between  Canal  st.  and  Fort  Lee 
(15c.)  make  no  charge  for  the  machine,  if  my  own  experience  represents  their 
7 


^      -       ■-  -*  •> 


.  .    -o--  (J-V  A  BICYCLE. 

.—.1    uiiwalil;  for  podiet  tac.    It  thoni  Ihe  tuds 

,  .  _    uinl.  aiid  also'coniaini  a  >p«ia]  map  of  EItdi^' 

.  ...,  uouuwl,  ior  the  wall  (fj),  [i  wouJd  be  an  addi- 

-<_.i,    ikiii.  ttf  ihe  island  art  published  ii  (1,50  WW 

> .  -  —  .i_,f,  ui  Brooklyn  (j?  by  30  in.  and  ji  by  14  in.|  ji 

.  ,      —i  .1  J>i  mne  (j9  by  31  in.),  the  region  below  ^blh  b., 

>,    .   viui  uiy  map  lor  banging  in  a  club-room  11  Ihai  which 

.  i.    ■  .'•>:  Oiy  Halt.onascale  of  i-i  m.  to  Ihe  inch(&|by6|iD.. 

-  ,-..  V,  ,..>  by  i«  \b.),  scale  1-1  m.  to  Ihe  inch,  (or  50c.  Of  New 
~, .  .^A  ^  M  >u..  3*  by  19  b.,  (1  by  jS  in.  aod  74  by  70  in.),  cosing 
,.^  .110.— tb*  Uller  being  French'i  topographical  map,  mounled. 


^ .  .  ,.<..i.iiK'>  kX  New  York,  and  a  good  pan  of  WeMch^Uer  county  on 
,.,.  .-■uleoijm.toiheincb  will  dogblless  make  it  acceptable. 

„  u^.  ^m.:,  luMI  Ihe  City  Hall  Park-  Facing  thil,  is  the  n'ewly-openod 
II  .11  V.  li.  Spahling  &  Brui.,  141  Broadway ;  vhile  the  sinular  eitensin 
.■;  •.iii.l.'i,  at  Ihe  old-lime  quarters,  126-130  Nassau  si.,  is  only  a  fewsicpj 
i  .">  .Km.  »i>-Si  William  St.,  is  about  i-(  m.  beyond  1  and  the  route 

■  1.  il.iviiliMl  llstiofall  the  trades  and  professions.  Tniw's  "  Cily  Direc- 
•..  iKviimtilHii  ind  iddreues  of  the  entire  fined  population  of  New  YotV, 
ol  ihrwjvfarerwereiy  drug-store;  and.  by  application  at  the  office  of 
t  .viLiuli  Mackey'a  "A.  B.  C  Guide,"  or  Bulltoger's  "  Counting  House 
.>.'V!v  Jiul  cunlahring  the  dme-tahles  ai  Ihe  railway  and  steamboat  lines, 

h^"^'■l^•r.  which  the  explorer  ot  Ihe  metropolis  should  inevilibly  buy,  and 

i.'nt  rrtftroce.    I  mean  "Appletons'  Dictionary  ot  New  York,"  com- 

!.>.  i"  i^7'J.  nnd  having  new  editions  in  each  year  since  then,  •'revised  ro 
.1  1..UI.UI11  J4«  pages,  compactly  printed  in  double  columns  of  brevier. 
-,,  »  h.tH-*nJneh  thick,  weighs  seven  ounces,  aod  is  mailed,  postpaid,  on 
imt<l>ihrn.  I).  Applelon  &  Co. ,  of  Bond  st.  One  of  its  maps,  on  >  scale 
,  .lu'iM  all  Ihe  roads  of  the  city  to  Ihe  Yonken  boundary  (including  thooe 
lh.>  »'ol"<'tlhehor>e.caiB,  Ihe  elevated  railways  and  the  ferries  1  another 
111  '.A  the  island  and  a  pan  of  Brooklyn,  on  a  larger  scale ;  and  a  third 
.  1^1  ihB  rmiiin  round  about,  on  a  scale  of  4  m.  to  the  inch.    Time-ubles 


>M  BOSTON.' 

lumti  tour,  on  the  last  Friday  evening  of 
the  fountain  in  Washington  Square,  (he 
ny  head  during  the  journey  was  "unani- 
iC  not  again  until  the  early  dawn  of  the 
n  bicyclers  who  rode  in  the  baggage-car 
jleasute  of  inspecting  that  same  historic 
y  identity  revealed  to  (he  youth  who  had 
lith  me,  according  lo  my  proposal  in  the 
pin  from  the  suburbs,  was  awaiting  my 
icli. 

iV  a  5-m.  path  lo  Harvard  Square,  stop- 
irl's,  and  proceeded  through  Cambridge, 
e  we  tarried  from  145  to  3  P.  M.  at  the 
t;  (hence  to  Wenham,  4  m.,  one  hour; 
Iroad  station,  5  m-,  J  li-  There  we  took 
d  after  indulging  in  4  m.  more  of  wheel- 
Navy  Yard,  in  (he  Stale  of  Maine,  dis- 
ngham  House,  at  S.15.  The  weather  of 
igh  the  clouds  threatened  in  (he  morning 
ifternoon  was  bright.  The  clouds  of  (he 
mly  threatening,  but  they  fulfilled  (heir 
I'cloclc,  and  reached  the  Merrimac  Hotel 
thoroughly  dampened  condition,  for  the 
ide  definitely  turned  into  rain  during  the 
prised  the  poorest  roads  encountered  on 
e  mud  became  quite  troublesome.  Ilav- 
els,  we  had  a  fire  made  for  the  drying  of 
to  reading,  as  a  pleasant  way  of  passing 
lould  start  for  Boston.  Even  when  we 
no  hope  of  avoiding  this  inglorious  end- 
lin  ceased  lo  fall  soon  after  noon.  The 
In  examination  of  the  roads,  and  the  ex- 
d  and  start  along  at  1.45. 
»  of  the  town,  «re  found  no  trouble,  for 
^the  moisture  of  the  morning,  and  the 


lOO 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


revised  1884,  68  by  33  in.,  $2.50),  thcmgh  rather  unwieldy  for  pocket  use.  It  shows  the  roads 
along  the  whole  coast  of  Connecticut,  for  5  m.  inland,  and  also'contains  a  special  map  of  Brook- 
lyn and  the  lower  5  m.  of  New  York ;  so  that,  mounted,  for  the  wall  (1^5),  it  would  be  an  addi- 
tion to  any  metropolitan  dub-room.  Smaller  maps  of  the  island  are  published  at  $1.50  (58  by 
27  in.)  and  soc.  (25  by  12  in.),  and  separate  maps  of  Brooklyn  (37  by  30  in.  and  32  by  24  in.)  at 
similar  prices.  "  New  York  City  "  (78  by  32  in.),  with  hotels  and  public  buildings  shown,  costs 
$2.50  (mounted,  $5);  or  the  lower  half  of  the  same  (39  by  32  in.),  the  region  below  96th  St., 
can  be  had  alone  for  $1.50;  but  a  better  city  map  for  hanging  in  a  dub-room  is  that  which 
shows  all  the  country  within  15  m.  of  the  City  Hall,  on  a  scale  of  1-2  m.  to  the  inch  (64  by  64  in., 
mounted,  $6).  A  pocket-map  on  a  smaller  scale  (29  by  26  in.),  showing  all  the  country  within 
33  m.  of  the  City  Hall,  and  having  lo-m.  circles  reckoned  from  there,  may  bi  bought  for  %\ ;  and 
another  one  of  the  city  and  suburbs  (26  by  19  in.),  scale  1-2  m.  to  the  inch,  for  50c.  Of  New 
York  State,  there  are  four  maps  (18  by  14  in.,  32  by  29  in.,  42  by  38  in.  and  74  by  70  in.),  costing 
respectively,  50c.,  ^i,  $1.50  and  ^10, — the  latter  being  French's  topographical  map,  mounted. 
New  Jersey  has  three  (i8  by  14  in.,  26  by  19  in.  and  26  by  35  in.),  prices  50c.,  75c.  and  I1.25,— 
the  latter  being  on  a  scale  of  5  m.  to  the  inch,  and  having  its  railroad  distances  shown  by  space- 
marks  signifying  miles.  A  new  map  of  the  northern  half  of  New  Jersey  is  promised  for  1886 ; 
with  the  adjoining  southern  counties  of  New  York,  and  a  good  part  of  Westchester  county  on 
the  east  (75c.  or  $1),  and  its  scale  of  3  ra.  to  the  inch  will  doubtless  make  it  acceptable. 

Other  map-publishers  are  G.  H.  Adams  &  Son,  59  Beekman  St.,  and  E.  Steiger,  25  Park  pi., 
and  the  offices  of  all  four  are  quite  n»ar  the  City  Hall  Park.  Facing  this,  is  the  newly-opened 
sporting-goods  emporium  of  A.  G.  Spalding  &  Bros.,  241  Broadway ;  while  the  similar  extensive 
establishment  of  Peck  &  Snyder,  at  the  old-time  quarters,  126-130  Nassau  St.,  is  only  a  few  steps 
away.  £.  I.  Horsman's  store,  80-82  William  St.,  is  about  1-4  m.  beyond;  and  the  route 
thither  leads  past  I.  Perigo's,  87  Nassau  St.,  and  R.  Simpson's,  98  Fulton  st.  Wilson's  "  Busi- 
ness Directory  "  presents  classified  lists  of  all  the  trades  and  professions.  Trow's  "  City  Direc- 
tory," giving  the  names,  occupations  and  addresses  of  the  entire  fixed  population  of  New  York, 
is  kept  open  for  the  use  of  the  wayfarer  at  every  drug-store  ;  and,  by  application  at  the  office  of 
any  hotel,  he  may  freely  consult  Mackey's  **  A.  B.  C.  Guide,"  or  BuUinger's  '*  Counting  House 
Monitor,"  published  weekly  and  containing  the  time-tables  of  the  railway  and  steamboat  lines, 
with  fares,  distances,  and  other  useful  information. 

There  is  one  book,  however,  which  the  explorer  of  the  metropolis  should  inevitably  buy,  and 
carry  in  his  pocket  for  constant  reference.  I  mean  "Appletons'  Dictionary  of  New  York,"  com- 
piled by  Townsend  Percy,  in  1879,  and  having  new  editions  in  each  year  since  then,  "  revised  to 
the  date  of  issue."  It  contains  248  pages,  compactly  printed  in  double  columns  of  brevier, 
measures  6]  by  4}  inches,  is  half-an-inch  thick,  weighs  seven  ounces,  and  is  mailed,  postpaid,  on 
receipt  of  30c.  by  the  publishers,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  of  Bond  St.  One  of  its  maps,  on  a  scale 
of  1}  inches  to  the  mile,  shows  all  the  roads  of  the  city  to  the  Yonkers  boundary  (including  those 
of  Central  Park),  with  the  routes  of  the  horse-cars,  the  elevated  railways  and  the  ferries ;  another 
map  gives  the  lower  2  m.  of  the  island  and  a  part  of  Brookljm,  on  a  larger  scale ;  and  a  third 
map  exhibits  a  section  of  the  region  round  about,  on  a  scale  of  4  m.  to  the  inch.  Time-tables 
and  fares  of  all  the  ferries,  locations  of  the  piers,  starting-points  of  all  the  steamboat  and  steam- 
ship lines,  routes  of  the  horse-cars,  rates  of  cabs  and  hacks,  stations  of  the  elevated  roads, 
directory  of  streets,  and  lists  of  telegraph-offices,  police-stations,  theaters,  hotels,  restaurants, 
churches,  clubs,  societies,  hospitals,  and  other  institutions,  may  be  mentioned  among  the  num- 
berless carefully  classified  bits  of  statistics,  compactly  presented,  which  render  this  little  book 
worthy  of  its  big  name.  It  is  a  genuine  pocket-companion,  which  no  visitor  can  afford  to  be 
without,  and  which  will  save  from  three  to  ten  times  its  cost  during  every  day  of  his  sojourn. 

For  the  convenience  of  wheelmen  who  may  desire  to  have  this  present  chapter  as  a  pocket* 
companion  also,  I  intend  to  republish  it  as  a  separate  pamphlet  (to  be  supplied  by  mail  in  return 
for  twenty-five  one-cent  ?tamps),  and  I  shall  prepare  for  it  a  spedal  index,  giving  references  not 
only  to  every  town  and  village  but  also  to  every  street,  road,  ferry,  dub-house,  hotel  and  land- 
mark of  any  sort  whose  name  is  mentioned  in  the  text. 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON.' 

When  I  finished  my  500-111.  aulumn  tour,  on  the  last  Friday  evening  of 
last  September,  by  circling  round  the  fountain  in  Washington  Square,  the 
old  straw  hat  which  had  sheltered  my  head  during  the  journey  was  "  unani- 
mously called  in."  Mortal  eye  saw  it  not  again  until  tlie  early  dawn  of  the 
last  Saturday  in  Ma;,  when  the  dozen  bicyclers  who  rode  in  the  baggage-car 
from  Fall  River  to  Boston  had  the  pleasure  of  inspecting  that  same  historic 
head-gear.  By  that  sign  also  was  my  identity  levealed  lo  the  youth  who  had 
consented  to  take  a  Iwo-days'  ride  with  me,  according  to  my  proposal  in  the 
Bi.  IVorld,  and  who,  after  a  lo-m.  spin  from  the  suburbs,  was  awaiting  my 
arrival  in  front  of  the  Hotel  Brunswick. 

Mounting  theie  at  S.jc^  we  took  a  5-m.  palh  to  Harvard  Square,  stop- 
ping a  half-hour  for  breakfast  at  Carl's,  and  proceeded  through  Cambridge, 
Maiden,  and  Lynn,  to  Salem,  where  we  tarried  from  1.45  to  j  P.  M.  at  the 
Essex  House,  21SJ  m.  from  the  start;  thence  to  Wenham,  4  m.,  one  hour; 
Ipswich,  6  m.,  J  h. ;  and  Rowley  railroad  station,  5  m.,  J  h.  There  we  took 
the  (rain  to  Portsmouth,  N-  H. ;  and  after  indulging  in  4  m.  more  of  wheel- 
ing, in  order  to  visit  the  Kittery  Navy  Yaid,  in  the  Stale  of  Maine,  dis- 
mounted for  the  night  at  the  Rockingham  House,  at  S.15.  The  weather  of 
the  day  had  been  favorable  ;  for  though  the  clouds  threatened  in  the  morning 
and  a  few  rain-drops  really  fell,  Ihe  afternoon  was  bright.  The  clouds  of  the 
neit  morning,  however,  were  not  only  threatening,  but  they  fulfilled  their 
threat.  We  left  Porlamouth  at  5  o'clock,  and  reached  the  Merrlmac  Hotel 
in  Newburyport,  20  m.,  at  8.45,  in  a  thoroughly  dampened  condition,  for  the 
heavy  mist  of  the  early  part  of  (he  ride  definitely  turned  into  rain  during  the 
last  hour.  The  last  5  or  6  m.  comprised  the  poorest  roads  encountered  on 
the  tour,  and  during  the  last  2  m.  the  mud  became  quite  troublesome.  Hav- 
ing breakfasted  and  cleaned  our  wheels,  we  had  a  fire  made  for  the  drying  of 
our  garments,  and  betook  ourselves  to  reading,  as  a  pleasant  way  of  passing 
the  time  until  the  5  o'clock  train  should  5(ar(  for  Boston.  Even  when  we 
went  down  to  dinner  at  1.3a,  we  had  no  hope  of  avoiding  (his  inglorious  end- 
ing of  our  excursion,  though  (he  rain  ceased  to  fall  soon  after  noon.  The 
blight  sun,  however,  soon  templed  an  examination  of  the  roads,  and  the  cx- 
imination  tempted  us  to  risk  the  mud  and  start  along  at  2.4J. 

Once  clear  of  the  shaded  streets  of  (he  town,  we  found  no  trouble,  for 
the  soil  and  sunshine  had  absorbed  the  moisture  of  the  morning,  and  the 
'Fran  Ti^ Biejic/imf  Wurld,  Auguitafi,  lUi,  pp.  iM'iS^ 


I02 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


track,  freed  from  the  dust  of  the  previous  day,  was  at  its  very  best.  The  rain 
had  freshened  all  the  foliage  and  given  life  to  the  atmosphere ;  the  fruit  trees 
were  in  full  bloom,  and  in  many  cases  so  overhung  the  road  as  to  fill  the  air 
with  fragrance ;  in  short,  it  would  be  hard  to  imagine  pleasanter  conditions 
for  riding.  The  pump  on  Rowley  Green,  6  m.,  was  reached  in  an  hour  after 
starting,  during  which  hour  about  a  mile  of  perfect  shell  road  was  whizzed 
across,  and  the  second  hour  showed  a  record  of  8  m.  more.  The  third  hour, 
6}  m.,  brought  us  to  Salem,  in  ample  season  for  the  train.  When  I  dis- 
mounted in  front  of  the  Hotel  Vendome,  Boston,  at  8.20  o'clock,  the  cyclom- 
eter indicated  93  m.  for  the  two  days.  My  ODmpanion  proceeded  a  little 
further,  and  as  he  rode  somewhat  before  joinmg  me,  his  record  for  the  two 
days  was  a  dozen  miles  greater.  Considering  that  he  was  a  boy  of  eighteen, 
who  had  never  before  been  on  a  tour  or  ridden  more  than  20  m.  in  a  day,  I 
thought  his  ability  to  do  105  m.  without  inconvenience  or  subsequent  ill- 
effects  was  a  pretty  good  proof  of  the  healthfulness  of  bicycling.  He  was  a 
leader  on  the  road  more  of  the  time  than  a  follower,  and  he  often  bobbed 
along  serenely,  through  sand  and  ruts,  when  I  myself,  out  of  prudent  regard 
for  my  more  venerable  bones,  preferred  to  make  frequent  dismounts.  Save 
for  the  six  hours*  delay,  we  should  have  covered  the  whole  distance  from 
Portsmouth  to  Boston  on  that  memorable  29th  of  May ;  and  I  am  sure  he 
will  always  be  as  glad  as  I  am  to  recommend  the  track  in  question  to  all 
wheelmen  who  have  not  as  yet  had  the  pleasure  of  its  acquaintance.^ 

My  record  for  Monday,  the  30th,  was  19!  m.,  which  included  4  m.  in  the 
tail  of  the  great  parade,  and  an  afternoon  spin  to  Chestnut  Hill  Reservoir. 
The  next  day  I  did  a  similar  distance,  as  one  of  a  party  of  eighteen,  who 
lunched  at  the  Blue  Bell  Tavern  in  Milton,  by  invitation  of  the  Boston  men. 
Wednesday  afternoon  (I  didn't  get  started  till  afternoon,  because  I  didn't 
**  go  home  till  morning,"  from  the  orgies  at  St.  Botolph's)  I  went  to  Dedham, 
and  rode  some  35  m.  over  the  admirable  roads  of  that  region,  including  an- 
other visit  to  the  reservoir,  and  a  coast  down  the  hill  there,  when  my  wheel 

iln  wheeling  towvtis  Portsmouth,  the  Seabrook  sands  can  be  avoided  by  following  the 
horse-car  tracks  from  Newburyport,  by  the  Chain  Bridge,  to  Amesbury,  instead  of  crossing  the 
Merrimac  River  on  the  old  travel  bridge,  near  tlie  railroad  bridge  at  Newburyport.  After  cross- 
ing the  Chain  Bridge,  wheelmen  should  take  the  second  right  turn  at  the  guide-board  marked 
"  z8  m.  to  Portsmouth,"  which  road  leads  to  the  laige  Rocky  Hill  meeting-house,  where  a 
guide'board  is  marked  "  Hampton,  9  m.,"  which  road  ends  at  Methodist  Church  in  Seabrook. 
Thence  the  regular  travel  road  can  be  followed  to  Portsmouth.  On  the  return  trip  the  right- 
hand  guide-post  at  the  fork  of  the  roads  at  the  Methodist  Chiuich  in  Seabrook,  marked  "  Ames- 
bury  Village,  3 J  m.,'*  should  be  followed,  instead  of  the  left  one,  "  Newburyport,  4]  m."  At 
the  open  space,  about  2  m.  beyond,  is  a  guide-board  inscribed  "  Newburyport,  a  m.,"  meaning 
the  boundary  line,  not  the  dty.  This  road  leads  to  Rocky  Hill  meeting-house,  where  the 
straight  road,  instead  of  turning  to  the  left,  leads  to  the  horse^ar  tracks  north  of  Chain  Bridge. 
This  route  is  only  about  a  mile  longer  than  the  direct  road,  and  with  the  exception  of  one  sharp 
hill,  the  road  is  excellent,  and  free  from  sand.  The  trip  of  65  m.  from  Boston  to  Portsmouth, 
can  be  easily  made  in  a  day  by  any  fair  rider,  and  I  myself  have  made  it  without  any  forced  dis- 
mounts on  account  of  hills  or  sand.— Tblzah,  in  Bi.  Worlds  Aug.  a6,  1881,  p.  190. 


I04 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


coats,  evidently  felt  murderous  towards  me  for  my  apparent  ability  to  keep 
warm  without  a  coat  of  any  sort.  Brookfield,  8}  m.,  was  reached  at  ii.35> 
and  West  Brookfield,  3  m., }  h.  later.  When  I  started  on  again  at  2  o'clock,  the 
mist  had  lifted,  but  the  east  wind  was  still  threatening  me,  and  at  times  in 
the  afternoon  there  were  occasional  brief  sprinklings  of  rain.  At  the  hill  by 
the  lake  side,  about  a  mile  beyond  the  hotel  where  I  should  have  taken  the 
left-hand  road  to  Warren,  I  took  the  right-hand  one ;  and,  when  I  discovered 
my  mistake,  I  determined,  rather  than  retrace  3  m.  of  poor  road,  to  push  on 
to  Ware  instead,  and  complete  my  tour  to  Springfield  by  that  longer  (and 
probably  rougher)  route.  Five  miles  more  bro^ht  me  to  Ware,  at  3.30  p.  m.  ; 
and  Thorndike,  8  m.  on,  was  reached  an  hour  later.  A  mile  of  good  side- 
walk riding  led  to  Three  Rivers.  Jenksville,  *j\  m.  on,  was  reached  in  1}  h^ 
spite  of  several  hills,  and  another  mile  of  good  sidewalk  then  led  to  Indian 
Orchard,  at  which  place  I  should  probably  have  arrived  two  hours  earlier 
had  I  taken  the  Warren  route.  Dusk  had  now  settled  down,  and  darkness 
soon  followed,  with  occasional  rain-drops ;  but  the  east  wind  still  helped  me, 
and  I  rode  nearly  all  the- way  across  the  plain,  either  in  the  rut  or  on  the  ad- 
joining edge  of  hard  gravel  to  the  horse  railroad  terminus  in  East  State  St., 
Springfield,  5  m.,  at  8.15.  Then  followed  3  m.  of  slow  wheeling  over  the 
dimly-lighted  macadam  of  the  city  streets  and  the  planks  of  the  North 
bridge,  whence  I  walked  2  m.  homeward  without  trying  a  single  mount.  My 
day's  journey  of  64^  m.  was  completed  at  9.45  p.  M. ;  and  by  10  o'clock  the 
rain,  which  had  been  threatening  me  every  hour  since  daybreak,  was  pouring 
down  in  right  good  earnest.  The  cyclometer  showed  286^  m.  for  the  seven 
successive  days,  an  average  of  41  m. ;  and  this  was  the  first  occasion  of  my 
mounting  a  wheel  each  and  every  day  of  a  given  week.  (Later  report,  p.  112.) 
^Pemberton  Square,  in  Boston,  may  properly  be  taken  as  the  terminus 
of  the  smooth  roadway  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  and  I  recommend  it  as 
the  objective  point  to  be  kept  in  mind  by  any  one  who  plans  to  begin  or  finish 
a  bicycle  tour  at  the  capital  city  of  that  ancient  and  honorable  common- 
wealth. It  is  an  eminently  respectable  little  enclosure  (perhaps  25  or  30  rods 
long  and  about  as  wide  as  Broadway),  with  a  macadam  roadway  surrounding 
the  central  strip  of  grass  and  trees,  which  are  protected  by  an  iron  fence. 
Red  brick  houses,  mostly  devoted  to  lawyers'  offices,  shut  it  in  quite  solidly ; 
and  as  the  outlet  of  its  southern  end  (westward,  into  Somerset  St.,  and  so,  by 
a  turn  of  a  few  rods  to  the  left,  to  the  head  of  Beacon  St.,  just  east  of  the 
State  House)  is  not  opposite  the  outlet  of  its  center  (eastward,  by  a  short 
macadamized  descent  into  Scollay  Square),  the  explorer  of  Pemberton  Square 
always  has  the  uneasy  feeling  of  having  got  himself  into  a  cage  or  cul-de-sac^ 
at  whose  entrance  he  carelessly  failed  to  notice  the  warning,  "  No  thorough- 
fare 1 "  This  mistaken  impression  is  heightened  by  the  extreme  contrast 
which  the  scholarly  quiet  of  the  place  presents  to  the  rattle  and  roar  which 


IFrom  The  Bicycling  World,  May  22,  1885,  pp.  60-64. 


our  FROM  BOSTON. 


I  OS 


characterize  Ihe  adjacent  plaaa  called  Scollay  Square.  That  stone-paved 
opening  is  the  terminua  of  Tremont  st.,  a  main  arlery  o£  the  city,  stretching 
westward  for  3  m.  or  more  (and,  practically,  also  of  Washington  st,,  which 
runs  nearly  parallel  to  it);  and,  as  the  tremendous  horse-car  traffic  through 
those  and  other  thoroughfares  converges  and  concentrates  about  this  point, 
Scollay  Square  is  a  place  where  the  car-drivers  and  teamsters  ceaselessly  rage 
at  one  another, — roaring  out  their  robust  curses  and  merry  jests  from  morning 
until  midnight,— and  where  the  car-conduciore  continuallydo  cry.  In  strange 
contrast  to  all  this  rush  and  tumult,  is  the  profound  repose  of  the  decorous  lit- 
tle Pemberton  Square,  which^  have  before  described  as  situated  but  a  few 
rods  away,  and  which  I  have  thought  worth  describing  to  wheelmen  because 
its  name  has  long  been  familiar  to  them  in  connection  with  the  Bi.  World, 
whose  ofBce  has  been  in  one  of  the  upper-floors  of  No.  S,  at  the  north  end  of 
the  square,  since  October  jS,  1881. 

On  descending  Ihence  10  Scollay  Square,  the  tourist  is  immediately  con- 
fronted by  the  Crawford  House  (where  I  have  secured  a  very  decent  night's 
lodging  for  a  dollar,  on  two  or  three  occasions),  and  if  he  wishes  to  patronize 
a  more  pretentious  or  expensive  hostelry,  he  may  find  the  Revere,  the  Trem- 
ont, Parker's  and  Young's  all  within  40  or  50  rods  10  the  left  or  right.  The 
City  Hall  and  the  Court  House  are  close  lo  the  two  last-named  ;  while  Faneuil 
Hall,  the  Post  Office  and  the  Custom  House,  as  well  as  many  of  the  theater*, 
museums  and  other  places  of  interest,  may  be  found  within  }  m.  of  the 
square ;  and  nearly  all  the  steamboat-docks,  ferries  and  railway  stations  are 
within  \  m.  of  it.  The  great  brick  building  which  serves  as  a  terminus  for 
the  railway  from  Providence  [Ihe  Albany  terminus  is  J  m.  east,  and  both  lines 
lead  to  New  York),  and  which  stands  a  few  rodsf  rom  Ihe  south  side  of  the  Pub- 
lic Garden,  may  be  reached  by  riding  westward  from  Pemberton  Square  along 
Beacon  St.,  as  far  as  it  forms  the  northern  border  of  Ihe  Common  and  Ihe 
Public  Garden,  and  then  along  Arlington  and  Boylslon  sts.  (respectively  the 
western  and  southern  borders  of  the  garden),  a  distance  of  about  i  m.,  with- 
out dismount.  The  massive  clock-tower  of  this  building,  whose  dials  are 
illuminated  by  nighl,  is  notable  as  a  landmark  that  may  pilot  the  tourist  lo 
Ihe  house  of  the  Boston  Bicycle  Club,  hard  by  (No.  87  Boylston  st,),  or  to  the 
still  more  elegant  mansion  (No.  152  Newbury  St.),  built  by  and  for  the  Massa- 
chusetts Bicycle  Club,  and  said  to  be  the  most  substantial  structure  of  its  sort 
in  the  world.  It  was  dedicated  March  25, 1885,  and  an  illustrated  description 
of  it  occupied  a  half-dozen  pages  of  Outing  for  that  month.  "  This  magnifi- 
cent temple  of  the  wheel  has  three  stories  and  a  basement,  with  a  frontage  of 
24  (t.  and  a  depth  of  go  ft.,  and  it  stands  i%  ft.  back  from  the  sidewalk,  whence 
1  wheelrnan  may  ride  directly  into  the  arched  doorway,  upon  an  incline  of  con- 
crete, which  takes  the  place  of  steps.  Red  brick,  terracotta  and  light  shades 
of  Nova  Scotia  stone,  combine  with  the  broad  bay-window  and  oriel  of  the 
second  story,  and  the  inscribed  scroll-slab  in  the  gable  above  the  third,  to 
form  quite  a  handsome  front.    The  land  is  owned  in  fee  simple,  though  the 


%'A 


THN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


v//(jr  Ui  *  imm  fi  K^ffiKPtnixon  i<jr  the  parpote  of  purchasing  land  and  building 
M  t  )Mt/lM/Uto« '  WJM  Uken  a«  late  'a*  March  4, 1884;  and  the  beautiful  structure 
tt^nik  itn  exintem^  to  the  agency  of  one  man— Colonel  Albert  A.  Pope."    Ar 
)llu«(ritlr4  hUtory  of  tlie  Hoftton  Bicycle  Club,  the  oldest  in  America  (b 
rimrlcN  K.  rr»tt,  for  four  yearn  it§  president,  in  the  WJuelman^  March,  1S8 
\\\h  ii/>t'4li),  (jive*  A  picture  of  its  former  house  on  the  comer  of  Union  Pn 
Hiul  'rrninottt  Ht.f  which  wai  taken  possession  of  December  5,  188 1 ;  and  a 
o(!  (  !u1)Ii'm  Tavern,  in  Sharon,  a  favorite  objective  point  for  club  runs. 

The  ilnoNt  boulevard  in  the  city  is  Commonwealth  av.,  stretching 
Htrftijiht  lino  from  Arlington  st.  (the  western  border  of  the  Public  Gardei 
the  Htrcct  culled  WeMt  Chester  Park  (i  m.),  and  at  right  angles  to  each  of  t 
It )«  the  second  street  south  of  Beacon  st.  (the  north  windows  of  whose  - 
side  houses  overlook  the  Charles  River) ;  and  just  below  the  avenue  i> 
bviry  St.  nnd  then  Hoylston  st.— these  five  thoroughfares  being  parallel 
equidistant  from  each  other,  for  the  specified  mile.    This  is  distinctiv 
fashionable  "  Back  Bay  district "  of  Boston,  reclaimed  in  recent  yea 
the  marshes  which  used  to  be  flooded  by  the  river  tides,  and  it  is  nc' 
solidly  covered  oVer  with  the  most  ornate  and  expensively>built  hou- 
city.    Dartmouth  st,,  which  is  the  third  western  parallel  of  Arl- 
(border  of  Public  Garden),  forms  the  eastern  side  of  the  great  1 1 
dome,  which  fronts  northward  on  Commonwealth  av.,  and  it  also 
easten)  side  of  the  New  Old  South  Church,  which  fronts  southwar 
ton  St.    The  rear  o£  this  church  is  close  upon  the  rear  of  the  M. 
Bicycle  Club  house,  which  fronts  northward  npon  Xewbury   s' 
block  eastward  from  the  church  is  Trinitr  Church,  fronting  on  T. 
(a  favorite  rende^v^His  aiKl  startin^pv^int  tiM-  dub  mnsU  adjacent 
the  livxel  Brunswick,  the  Institute  vM  Tcchnouxrv,  the  Mxiseuni 
and  the  Natural  HijiKwv  Mu^eum^     All  these  hniiv-^injs  are  wi: 
dock-towtr,  iwixve  recwunwTidcsJ  a*  a  usetu;  landmark  for  the 
ance«  aad  iJus  saar  alsac*  jaerce  to  s.li.'tw  him  where  Cv-^ininba^  > 
si>cthwe$twaic  frv.>ai  R>T}*5^»Mi  «« ;  ^^r  :hat  arrajue.  after  abc  :♦ 
K.vkss  cccrs  jwarV  i  ».  o*  a^'.^HA^:  >u;na^f,  to  Was:  Chc>u 
b«  =2JiT  surx  ri.>.x.  t*'*  CoaJiTn^^r^x;;.;!:  a\.    Dartnuiisil:  - 
sajcci  cc»*'?<cr?.Mi  Vgu^sw;  ths^  aj>»\  C^^'nmhiHi  «t^  ncir  • 

X,**:;^  l--^trar  V    :^  £2^  ?c^  ^^  0"'^'' •  l>ASc?or.  ani:  T 
ntis:  J3v£  ?—.•"« •ctrmot.     ChrscMU  Kil    ?vrsr^*An.  ht»v"-. 
^anrre  tvutc  ?.r  rw  sr-finpr*  r/  s.Tc»r"  r.-v  »-iv»r  ht  nrs 
trrr:  "^^  mr  ^ftc  ''-"ui^  rh':n?~   •*iir  :hj  x'nf.  o:  ^<»r".  • 

reserrtr    vii««f  «•"•*«>  al'.^»  *  oj'^'u*    v  ^»  u.  o:  Mic;; 


^/LES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

lounts,  to  Bristol,  making  34J  m.  for  the 
final  hour;  but  it  fell  pretty  steadily  dur- 
llowing  Eorenoon.  The  sun  shone  out  at 
s  bright  and  hot,  in  spile  of  two  or  three 

0  p.  M.  I  traversed  19  m,,  ending  at  the 
he  sidewalks  of  Bristol  I  e^iplored  for  3 
ley,  and  the  best  part  of  this  was  the  S  in. 
3n  bridge  beyond  Warren,  and  a  certain 

turned  to  the  left  for  the  hotel,  which  I 
^  the  sidewalks.  Though  the  rains  had 
ridible,  and  I  was  only  ij  h.in  doing  the 
verlc^rjting  Providence  bay  and  river  is 
ght  no^ward,  instead  of  crossing  it  to 
ive  had  these  water-views  all  the  way  to 

01  is  a  sleepily  respectable  old  cown,  near 
evidence  Bay  and  Mount  Hope  liay,  and 
manufacturing  town  of  Fall  River,  which 
ter.  A  ferry  used  to  connect  Bristol  with 
ind,  upon  whose  southern  extremity,  about 
port ;  and  the  present  keeper  of  the  light- 
ut  z  m.  from  the  center  of  Bristol,  occa- 
iccommodalioti  of  a  casual  traveler  nho 

by  boat  and  left  it  by  train,  on  the  occa- 
;  but  the  train-journey,  which  was  on  the 


we  Look  a  cnHS-nud  !□  the  iighl,and,  ifter  folktw- 
ID  the  'We«'  load.  Imninlialtly on tuttiing inU) 
and  the  road  n  ridable  fr«D  here  ipto  Newport, 
L  dinanl  from  N.  The  lul  ;  m.  were  uaveltd 
Bd  our  run,  from  Middletown  into  Newpon,  on  a 

lie  av. ,  bordered  on  either  side,  for  1  tiL.  with  fine 
ng  in  aspect,  where  the 


ROM  BOSTON. 


109 


y  at  Taunton,  and  I  thence  wlieeled  to  Eos- 
,  with  four  companions,  who  were  the  first 
that  day  completed  my  1,000th  m.  Through 
we  did  much  walking  or  slow  riding  for  3  m., 

5  m.  beyond, we  rested  ijh. for' dinner.  At 
13  m.),  we  also  halted  \  h.  for  cooling  bever- 
jue  Bell  Tavern,  about  half  way  to  Milton 

course  led  through  Koxbury  (3  m.)  to  the 
ipenl  ihe  night.  Cobb's  Tavern,  in  Shaion, 
orile  objective  point  of  the  Boston  Bic)de 
'er  Mills,  and  Mansfield  is  about  Ihe  same 
e  toads  aa  far  as  Manstield  are  excellent, 
es,"  is  the  report  of  a  Pawtucket  man  [Tit 

route  homeward  from  Boston  ;  "  and  from  ■ 
billiard-tables, giving  us  the  pleasantest  part 

the  Hotel  Dorrance,  in  Providence,  on  the 
m.  long,  and  lay  through  Westminster  st  to 
lUowed  to  Olney  si.  and  then  up-hill  to  the 
ljm.),the  sidewalks  being  generally  ridable 
the  curbs.  After  going  up-hill  to  the  left 
turned  to  the  right  at  the  top  of  it,  and  pro- 
ley  Falls  Bridge  {i\  m).  The  sign  "8  m.  to 
ere,  and  I  followed  the  sidewalk  to  Ashton, 
nt  of  I  m.  or  more,  to  the  church  on  top  of 
been  3  h.  in  doing  the  13}  m.  The  descent 
;  m.  had  to  be  walked,  to  the  region  of  the 
to  a  central  point  in  Woonsocket.  After  this 
'  sidewalk,  of  black  sand  or  loam,  to  Black- 
ame,  whose  dark  and  dirty  waters  have  an 
told  that  the  river-road  running  alongside 
ntinuously  sandy-  The  only  header  of  my 
while  trying  to  ride  along  a  narrow  ledge 
■s,  just  before  reaching  Blackstone.  About 
jughl  a  ticket  (or  the  train  which  I  was  told 
but,  on  learning  that  a  quarter-dollar  would 
le  that  distance,  t  refused  to  submit  to  the 
ter  I  or  2  m.,  the  road  gradually  improved, 
m  the  start)  at  J  o'clock, and  halted  briefly  for 
orcester  (iSJ  m.)  was  reached  at  5.20  P.  M., 
■y, — the  final  third  of  it,  from  Millbury 
'le  tour, — Northbridge,  Farmersville, 
^een  previously  passed  through. 
'  4  m.  into  the  country;  total,  49  m. 


no 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYC 


Two  months  before  (June  16-17,  ^83),  I  wheeled  from  Wes 
Pemberton  Square,  in  Boston  (103  m.), — my  first  day's  ride  (5 
ending  at  Spencer,  44  m.  from  the  start.    The  first  dismount 
the  sand  plain,  7  m.  after  starting,  and  2^  m.  before  I  reached  . 
where  I  stopped  for  breakfast  at  6.30.    At  Jenksville,  i  m.  . 
recommend  tourists  to  cross  the  bridge,  1.,  and  take  the  ro 
spite  of  what  my  report  of  1881  says  against  it,  on  p.  104),  I  . 
after    crossing  the  railway,  kept  alongside  it  through  the 
which  was  i  m.  of  clay  or  loam,  continuously  ridable ;  so 
North  Wilbraham,  3f  m.from  the  bridge,  in  just  i  h.   Whitt 
with  short  ridable  stretches  of  loam,  was  the  rule  as  far 
and  West  Brimfield  (5^  m.)f  though  I  managed  to  get  o\ 
about  i^  h.    The  hilliest  and  sandiest  track  of  all  was  \ 
last-named  station ;  and  beyond  it  I  encountered  "  road 
Progress  then  became  pleasanter  along  the  shaded  banl 
River,  whose  waters  plashed  merrily  over  the  stones ;  and  * 
were  more  frequent  to  West  Warren  (2  m.),  whence  I  rou 
hotel  in  Warren  (2J  m.),  and  rested  there  3  h.  for  dinner.   " 
at  3.30  o'clock,  I  found  decent  roads  to  the  fork  (2^  1 
pond)  where  I,  two  years  before,  unwittingly  turned  tu^ 
recommend  that  route  as  rather  less  objectionable  than  t^ 
The  distance  between  this  pond  and  the  bridge  at  J 
either  road,  and  each  one  of  them  contains  more  mile 
than  any  similar  stretch  of  the  entire  route  from   > 
Next  in  number  may  be  ranked  the  bad  miles  which  tl 
must  conquer  between  Milford  and  Meriden,  in  Connc 

The  smoothest  spin  of  the  afternoon  ended  at  tl^ 
field  (7  m.  from  the  last-named  pond),  following  whi 
several  smaller  ones,  ending  at  the  Massasoit  House  i 
when  I  started  thence,  at  5.30  o'clock,  next  morning,  ■ 
siderable  walking,  here  and  there,  by  sand,  or  loam  11 
dust,  or  gravel  which  had  been  carted  on  by  the  roa  ' 
myself  by  riding  to  the  top  of  the  big  hill  in   Leic» 
are  (first  on  the  east  sidewalk,  then  on  the  concrete  c> 
in  the  roadway),  and  also  to  the  top  of  the  follow  i* 
brick  church,— for  a  short  shower  had  by  this  time 
Just  as  I  stopped  for  breakfast  at  a  restaurant, 
square  in  Worcester  (iiim.  and  2 J  h.  from  the  sta 
good  earnest,  and  it  was  still  drizzling  when  I 
Turning  northward  at  the  railroad  station,  I  soon 
which  stands  the  State  Hospital,  descended  then 
Lake  Quinsigamond,  climbed  another  hill  and 
where  one  sign  points  to  ''  Shrewsbury  i|  m."  anc' 
6|  m.    The  former  route  is  preferable,  though  it 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


iviaan  oAccn  (M.  D.  Cum«.  a  Liwnnu,  or  F.  P.  KendalJ,  at  W«usUr). 

oslon  (survejtd  iSgj,  scale  i  m,  u.  i  inch,  price  »i.5o,mouiit«l»j),  withinarad 
im.,  uldngin  Brocklon,  3. ;  Nalick,  w.  \  Lowell,  Anduier  and  Ih:  whole  of  C 
he  same  m^p  wiiha  ladiiuol  about  iim.  (taking  in  Cohaseland  Dedhan,  >.; 
nnconl.w.;  Wakefield  and  Salem,  D.)  uHi  lor  75  c.,  and  i*  a  more  coovenienl 
iDD  the  road.    The  Topographical  State  Atlu  (official,  1S71,  tcale  i|  m.  to  ■  io. 

le  purchased  o(  Cuppin,  Upham  &  Co.,  i8]  Washington 


PiiuSeld,  whoK  ar 


\  dearly  &hown,  ar 
[  red  is  given  to  U 


Hou 


a  new  ediiio 
WalttrWauon,  C  E.,  and 


each  school'houK,  c 

are  very  fine,  I  eipe 
0  of  their  eialleol  1 


dim 

request  10 

the 

Berkshire             1 

oly  about  j 

oi 

:  and.  as 

Con 

.,  s.  i  N.  V 

,ai.dVl., 

i  m,  to  I  i 

hat 

ea;  while 

asp 

«ial   lur- 
cirde  and 

ridahle,  and  th 

nc« 

do«nihe 

s.  Life  In 


luicklr 


I.  The  copyrighl(iHa})ii  held  by  its  designer, 
Inting  are  bj  Stnitliers,  SerwM  &  Co.,  N.  ¥. 
It  St.,  Boston,  publish  the  following  county 

from  the  aubuibs  of  Boston  10  the  border  of  Hew  Hampshire;  Womsler,  1S34,  as  byir 
in.,  1  m.  to  I  ID.  i  Franklin,  iSS;,  iS  by  iS  in.,  il  m.  10  i  io.  \  Hampshire  and  Hampden,  iSg,,  i3 
bjraam.,  i|in.  lorin. ;  Bristol,  iS3o,  iSby  iS.,  im.  to  1  in.,  "prepared  expressly  for  this  atlas"; 
Plymouth,  iSSo,  )o  by  10  in.,  I  m.  to  i  in.  1  and  BarmiaUe,  iSSo,  ti  by  10  in,,  }  m,  Io  1  in., 
"  prepared  expressly  for  this  atlas."  The  Cape  Cod  eiiremityoC  the  Slate  ii  included  io  the 
latter  county  \  PlynKnith  takes  b  (he  rest  of  the  ami  a*  far  as  Hinghan,  and  Biiuol  coieix  ilie 
region  between  Plymouih  and  Rhode  Island.    Just  north  of  theset* 


g  fioi 


*  Middlesei,  wha 
ij,  ig8j.  The  three  panllel  countie 
-e  section  of  the  Slate,  with  the  weiten 
if  each  by  Worcester,  which  also  covei 


:r  County  10 


a.p(joby.i 


,r|n. 


a  be  iuued 


L  ought  nevertheless  to  equip  hi 


Mil  ' 
I    J"  '     1 


1 1 


114  TEAT  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  1 

mechanical.    I  stayed  in  bed  only  from  11  till  3.30  o'clock,  and  at 
homeward.     My  muscles  were,   ii  jpossible,  stiffer  and  lamer  th 
began  to  limber  up  a  little  at  Northboro',  where  I  breakfasted.    Wor 
Ware  at  a  p.  m.;  the  only  header  of  the  two  days  rewarded  some  rec 
Belchertown ;  thence  a  driving  rain  accompianied  me  to  Amherst  at 
day  I  experienced  no  ill  effects,  and  was  in  better  trim  for  further  i 
though  i  had  covered  305  m.  within  38  h."    This  is  condensed  fr< 
Bi.  World  of  April  28,  '82,  p.  298 ;  and  briefer  accounts  appeare< 
Boston  Herald^  soon  after  the  tour.     His  best  day's  ride,  previous  t< 
November,  1883,  while  touring  in  the  Harz  Mountains,  he  complete 
m.,  of  which  a  summary  will  be  presented  in  a  later  chapter;  and 
midnight  and  zi.40  p.  m.,  he  rode  205  m.  (328  kilometers),  back  and 
Dresden, — ^though  the  best  previous  day's  road  record  in  Germany  v 
The  next  day's  run  of  100  m.  "  out  from  Boston,"  of  which  I  * 
reported  thus  for  C.  A.  Hazlett's  "  Summary  "  {Outing,  Feb.  1884, 1 
three '  members  of  the  Springfield  Bicycle  Club,  C.  E.  Whipple, 
Westervelt,  started  from  the  U.  S.  Armory  at  4.30  a.  m.     For  3^  ni 
the  next  5  m.  very  sandy,  and  all  took  headers.     From  Wilbraham  t 
the  roads  were  fair ;  thence  to  the  Brookfields,  sandy  and  stony.    A 
they  stopped  at  a  farm-house  for  breakfast.    They  found  the  roa 
Spencer  to  Leicester.    Here  they  were  met  by  Mr.  Lamb,  who  whe«. 
where  they  stopped  \  h.  to  telegraph  home.     Contrary  to  what  had 
every  hill  between  Springfield  and  Boston  could  be  coasted  with 
stop  (I  h.)  was  at  a  farm-house  at  Southboro',  where  they  began  to  r* 
The  prospect  put  new  life  into  their  tired  limbs,  it  being  the  first  loi 
From  Framingbam  theyiwheeled  through  Natick,  Newton  Lower  F21 
to  the  Public  Garden,  Boston,  and  dismounted  in  front  of  Brighai 
A  year  later  (Nov.  9,  '84),  three  other  members  of  the  same  club, 
and  W.  J.  McGarrett,  rode  from  the  city  hall,  Springfield,  to  t 
14}  h.  (riding  time,  13!  h.),  taking  breakfast  at  Warren,  dinner  at  W 
ton.    Four  days  afterwards,  L.  B.  Graves  rode  from  Northampton  to 
ously  measured  as  104  m.  by  Butcher  cyclometer,  but  which  was 
detour  at  the  end.     From  his  report  in  Wketl^  Nov.  28,  '84,  I  exti 
A.  M.;  Amherst,  7  m.,  \\  h.;  Belchertown,  io|  m.,  2  h.,  and  stop  - 
m.,a  h.    Roads  from  N.  to  A.,  first  half  fair,  second  half  poor  an 
though  the  grade  is  steadily  upward ;  B.  to  W.,  the  worst  stretch  ot 
long  hills,  so  rough  and  sandy,  as  hardly  to  allow  riding  on  do 
o'clock,  in  company  with  S.  W.  Coa ;  rested  for  dinner  at  the  Ma.^ 
p.  M.;  reached  Worcester  at  4,  and  waited  there  till  6,  for  repairs 
(Yale  54  in.);  thence  to  Brighton  at  midnight,  with  one  lamp  to  giv< 
nately  the  roads  were  in  very  good  shape,   and  the  only  fall  of 
taken  by  my  companion,  when  he  struck  a  high  curbstone  in  the  1 
went  atstray  from  the  proper  track,  to  Roxbury  station,  and  thent 
stones  of  Tremont  st.,  instead  of  the  asphalt  of  Columbus  av.,  8(^ 
we  reached  the  New  Marlboro  Hotel,  and  sat  down  to  a  hasty  si 
than  ai  h.  after  the  start  at  N.,  and  my  riding  time  was  just  16 
much  during  the  preceding  days,  and  we  both  felt  in  good  conditi* 
same  paper  of  Oct.  17,  '84,  gave  a  brief  report  of  a  Sunday  ride  fi 
III  m.,  between  5.30  a.  m.  and  zo.30  p.  m.,  taken  by  C.  H.  SI 
of  the  first-named  town.    Their  riding  time  was  14  h.,  and  their  g 
shown  by  the  fact  that  they  next  day  wheeled  55  m.    The  road  ^ 
far  from  good,  and  they  were  6  h.  in  "  walking  "  the  32  m.    They 
there  and  Northboro',  and  went  thence  to  Boston  over  the  well-kn 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON. 


"S 


characKrize  the  adjacent  plaza  called  Scollay  Square.  That  stone-paved 
opening  is  the  terminus  of  Tremont  s(.,  a  main  artery  of  the  city,  stretching 
weslwaid  for  3  m.  or  more  (and,  praclicaily,  also  o£  Washington  St.,  which 
runs  nearly  parallel  10  it) ;  and,  as  the  tremendous  horse-car  traffic  through 
those  and  other  thoroughfares  converges  and  concentrates  about  this  point, 
Scoliay  Square  is  a  place  where  the  car-drivers  and  teamsters  ceaselessly  rage 
at  one  another, — roaring  out  their  robust  curses  and  merry  jests  from  morning 
until  midnight, — and  where  the  car-conductors  continuallydo  cry.  In  strange 
contrast  to  all  this  rush  and  tumult,  is  the  profound  repose  of  the  decorous  lit- 
tle Pemberton  Square,  which  J  have  before  described  as  situated  but  a  few 
rods  away,  and  which  I  have  thought  worth  describing  to  wheelmen  because 
its  name  has  long  been  familiar  to  them  in  connection  with  the  Bi.  World, 
whose  office  has  been  in  one  of  the  upper-floors  of  No.  8,  at  the  north  end  of 
the  square,  since  October  z8,  1881. 

On  descending  thence  to  Scoliay  Square,  the  tourist  is  immediately  con- 
fronted by  the  Crawford  House  (where  I  have  secured  a  very  decent  night's 
lodging  for  a  dollar,  On  two  Or  three  occasions),  and  if  he  wishes  to  patronize 
1  more  pretentious  or  expensive  hostelry,  he  may  find  the  Revere,  the  Trem- 
ont, Parker's  and  Young's  all  within  40  or  50  rods  to  the  left  or  right.  The 
City  Hall  and  the  Court  House  are  close  to  the  two  last-named  ;  while  Faneuil 
Hall,  the  Post  Office  and  the  Custom  House,  as  well  as  many  of  the  theaters, 
museums  and  other  places  of  interest,  may  be  found  within  \  m.  of  the 
square ;  and  nearly  all  the  steamboat-docks,  ferries  and  railway  stations  are 
within  \  m.  of  it.  The  great  brick  building  which  serves  as  a  terminus  for 
the  railway  from  Providence  (the  Albany  terminus  is  \  m.  east,  and  both  lines 
lead  (oNew  York),  and  which  stands  a  few  rods  from  the  south  side  of  the  Pub- 
lic Garden,  may  be  reached  by  riding  westward  from  Pemberton  Square  along 
Beacon  St.,  as  far  as  it  forms  the  northern  border  of  the  Common  and  the 
Public  Garden,  and  then  along  Arlington  and  Boylston  sts.  (respectively  the 
western  and  southern  borders  of  the  garden),  a  distance  of  about  i  ra.,  with- 
out dismount.  The  massive  clock-tower  of  this  building,  whose  dials  are 
illuminated  by  night,  is  notable  as  a  landmark  that  may  pilot  the  tourist  to 
the  house  of  the  Itoston  Bicycle  Club,  hard  by  (No.  87  Boylston  St.),  or  to  the 
Mill  more  elegant  mansion  (No.  1 52  Newbury  St.),  built  by  and  for  the  Masu- 
ebusetts  Bicycle  Club,  and  said  to  be  the  most  substantial  structure  of  its  sort 
in  the  world.  It  was  dedicated  March  15,  1S85,  and  an  illustrated  description 
of  it  occupied  a  half-dozen  pages  of  Outing  {a\  that  month.  "This  magnifi- 
cent temple  of  the  wheel  has  three  stories  and  a  basement,  with  a  frontage  of 
M  ft.  and  a  depth  of  90  ft.,  and  It  stands  22  ft.  back  from  the  sidewalk,  whence 
a  wheelman  may  ride  directly  into  the  arched  doorway,  upon  an  incline  of  con- 
crete, which  takes  the  place  of  steps.  Red  brick,  terracotta  and  light  shades 
<rf  Nova  Scotia  stone,  combine  with  the  broad  bay-window  and  oriel  of  the 
second  story,  and  the  inscribed  scroll-slab  in  the  gable  above  the  third,  to 
form  quite  a  handsome  front.     The  land  is  owned  in  fee  simple,  though  the 


lES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

In  like  miinner,  this  pre~ 
he  roads  of  Hampden  C' 
jh  designed  chjeflj'  as  a  f 
also  to  assure  olher  strar 
ly  explored  by  any  sort 
lips,  be  interested  in  r( 
le  of  iocomotion,  and  ' 
ids   some  agreeable  cr 

if  8,000  m.,  I  have  ms- 
in  fifteen  separate  St 
Scotia,  and  lh«  isUnr 

have  never  found 
that  a  bicycler,  s(n 
amount  for  eight  <y 

south,  east,  and  n 
ly  the  cleanest  an< 

3  of  themunici]' 
ride  becomes  ex 
-north,  south, 

I  can  boast  of 
:ach  other,  a» 
/  be  had  on 

Ing  dome  b( 
ger  "milen 

y  macada: 


11$  TEA'  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

diBcnaunt,  except  occasional  repairs  to  the  road-bed.  This  consists  for  the 
most  part  oE  reddish  gravel,  containing  clay  enough  to  pack  it  firmly  together ; 
and,  (hough  liable  (o  be  badly  affected  by  the  spring  frosts  or  by  long-con- 
linued  rains,  it  undoubtedly  forms  the  best  single  stretch  of  country  road  in 
Western  Massachusetts.  The  road-races  of  the  bicycle  club  are  run  upon  it, 
and  ila  average  smoothness  is  shown  by  the  record  of  time  made  iherein, — 38 
min.  The  tourist  from  Springfield  should  turn  left  from  Main  st.  at  the  gray 
stone  church,  where  the  double-lrack  of  the  horse-railroad  terminates,  and  he 
may  there  advantageously  take  the  concrete  sidewalk  for  30  rods  or  so  to  the 
railroad  bridge.  Descending  past  the  entrance  to  the  park,  he  turns  left  to 
the  iron  bridge  across  the  Connecticut,  and  thence  goes  northward  along  the 
river  road  to  Hoiyoke,  He  should  not  turn  towards  the  river,  however,  at 
the  two  places  in  the  roa'd  where  signs  point  eastward  lo  Chicopee.  From 
the  Hoiyoke  House  I  have  ridden  westward  over  the  canal  bridges  and  rail- 
road track,  and,  on  the  concrete  sidewalks,  to  the  crest  of  the  hill,  on  which 
stands  the  city  hall,  a  massive  structure  of  granite.  Thence  through  the 
park,  and  by  streets  leading  northward  and  westward,  one  may  reach  the  old 
turnpike  in  Ireland  Parish,  at  a  point  just  above  Craft's  tavern,  distant  about 
2  m.  from  the  Hoiyoke  House.  There  are  excellent  views  along  this  course, 
and  1  think  that  an  expert  rider  might  cover  it  all  without  a  dismount,  though 
I  myself  have  never  been  able  to  conquer  the  long,  winding  Ewingsville  hill, 
which  forms  a  part  of  it,  and  which  needs  to  be  descended  with  considerable 
care.  On  reaching  the  turnpike  I  have  ridden  northward  without  stop  for 
some  z  m.,  or  to  a  point  beyond  the  brook  at  the  foot  of  the  long  descent. 
Two  miles  above  here  is  the  station  at  Smith's  Ferry,  and  x  m.  further  is  the 
station  miscalled  Mount  Tom,  though  that  lofty  peak  stands  far  away  to  the 
west.  The  roadway  of  these  4  m.  is  the  worst  stretch  which  the  bicycler  will 
encounter  on  the  west  side  of  the  river  in  louring  from  Hartford  to  Bellows 
Falls,  being  so  soft  and  sandy  as  generally  to  forbid  progress  except  on  foot. 
From  the  Mount  Tom  station  I  have  found  fairly  good  riding  to  Easthamp- 
ton,  2  m.,  and  an  excellent  road  thence  backward  for  a  similar  distance  to  a 
certain  point  on  the  ascent  of  the  real  Mount  Tom.  The  last  mile  of  the  as- 
cent, ending  at  the  half-way  house,  I  accomplished  on  foot,  but  I  think  the 
descent  towards  Easthampton  might  be  safely  made  on  the  wheel,  and  no 
stop  be  required  before  completing  the  3  m.  The  1  m.  of  roadway  leading 
downward  from  the  half-way  house  to  Craft's  is  softer  than  the  other  slope, 
and  requires  considerable  walking ;  though  the  turnpike  southward  from 
Craft's  continues  good  for  about  z  m.  to  Gates's  hilt.  The  rider  who  can 
descend  this  safely,  and  ascend  the  shorter  slope  which  succeeds  it,  will  have 
no  trouble  in  reaching  the  main  river-road  again,  at  the  watering-trough  be- 
low Inglestde,  6  m.  from  the  Springfield  bridge.  The  mile  between  the 
trough  and  Gates's  is  rather  difficult  for  one  going  northward,  and,  though  1 
have  ridden  it  all  to  the  final  hill,  I  have  never  tried  that  hill,  and  do  not  be- 
lieve it  can  be  mounted.    The  view  from  this  upper  road  is  even  finer  than 


ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIHlsi), 


$h) 


that  from  the  smoother  road  below,  and  a  northward  tirnntni  IhIo  ilm  \hh*>i 
may  be  made  by  the  tourist  who  doe*  mH  car«  U}  iutn  mnUft  ifM>  fnUwitf 
[rack  towards  Gates's. 

Mr  recollection  as  a  pedestrian  <ti  twenty  ytAfit  ujr/t  U  i>mI  Mm  f»;#)f>  to^fi 
from  Fasfhampton  to  Northampt/^  5  m.,  wouM  l/«  itt'dHu -mSA*  iof  $t  hif  y*  U  f 
i=ii  odxT  wheelmen  have  told  me  that  the  um^/W  f04/i,  Iff/to  %iouh^  I  ^^m 
srzroa  to  Xorthampton,  i«  Um  the  mo«it  part  rui^h*^,  »t^i  *h4i  im  /  U'^A  i,ti,A 

r£  SET  ow«  £ri«  rS-ie  uj*  ti^  vau^y  wa*  *»,»•  *.«>;/  'i^/»a<^,  #^/»y 

I  was  forced  to  wLjl  *^'r'>*^'%  iu^*A  %w*^  V^'/f*^  t*,4/  *  *-y  H*'i^  >; 

ijt  of  tbc  want  a5r:*T  jit*>  'y  ^'^     M>'  ai/:*  *>  ••,,  V/v*  *v   »*>/* 


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I20  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

The  westward  route  from  Springfield  is  the  shortest,  and  in  some  respects 
the  most  difficult,  for  there  are  several  hills  to  be  climbed,  whereof  the  first 
is  extremely  tiresome,  and  there  is  said  to  be  no  good  riding  whatever 
beyond  the  western  end  of  Franklin  st.,  in  Westfield,  which  is  the  extreme 
point  to  which  a  rider  may  go  in  that  direction  without  dismount.  The 
distance  from  Springfield  city  hall  is  lo  m.,  and  a  combination  of  careful  rid- 
ing  and  good  luck  seems  to  me  necessary  to  enable  a  wheelman  to  get  over 
it  all  without  a  stop.  From  the  end  of  the  iron  bridge  over  the  Connecticut 
the  tourist  continues  westward  along  the  north  side  of  the  Common,  in  West 
Springfield,  and  then  northward  a  few  rods  to  the  post-office,  where  he  turns 
westward  again  and  soon  reaches  the  big  hill,  which  is  rather  difficult  to 
climb,  though  its  surface  is  smooth  and  hard.  A  quarter-mile  beyond,  where 
the  left-hand  road  leads  downward  to  the  Mittineague  railroad  station,  he 
must  turn  up-hill  to  the  right,  and  a  mile  later  he  will  descend  to  Block  brook, 
and  climb  a  much  longer  hill.  In  the  course  of  the  next  mile  he  will  en- 
counter the  steepest  descent  of  the  route,  and  will  cross  the  bridge  over  the 
railway ;  crossing  under  it  again,  a  little  ways  on,  at  the  so-called  deep-cut, 
and  still  again  a  half-mile  westward.  The  road  follows  the  tracks  for  a  mile 
and  a  half,  and  then  divides  at  Mill  brook,  the  right-hand  branch  going  under 
the  tracks,  and  thence  in  a  curve  of  z  m.  to  the  railway  station  in  Westfield. 
The  left-hand  road,  which  is  much  the  better  one,  crosses  the  brook  and  then 
the  river,  and  in  another  mile  crosses  the  river  again  and  brings  the  tourist 
to  the  thickly-settled  part  of  the  town,  though  the  central  park  is  nearly  a 
mile  beyond ;  and  the  Pine  Hill  cemetery,  which  is  the  end  of  the  smooth 
riding,  is  nearly  a  mile  beyond  the  park.    There  are  several  miles  of  concrete 

riyer  for  about  a  m.,  then  turn  to  r.  at  croes-roads  and  go  direct  to  South  Hadley,  which  is  the 
aeat  of  the  well-knowi»  Mt.  Holyoke  Female  Seminary.  There  he  may  either  turn  w.,  and 
cross  the  river  at  Smith's  Ferry,  qk  follow  the  direct  road  down  to  South  Hadley  Falls  and 
cross  by  free  bridge  to  Holyoke,  say  5  or  6  m.  From  the  ferry  at  Hockanum,  the  tourist  turns 
eastward  if  he  wishes  to  visit  Mt.  Holyoke,  where  a  fine  view  may  be  had.  The  mountain 
road  is  unsafe  for  bicycling,  however,  and  the  last  few  hundred  feet  of  the  ascent  must  be  made 
by  railway  car  or  stair-dimbing.  In  going  s.  w.  from  Northampton  to  Easthamptcn,  4  or  5  m., 
the  tourist  should  cross  bridge  at  the  foot  of  South  st.  hill,  then  taks  sidewalk  up-hill  to  end  of 
walk,  and  turn  at  cross-roads ;  keep  on  past  the  ice  houses  at  Rocky-Hill  pond ;  cross  the  brook 
and  then  the  railroad,  beyond  which  is  a  quarter-mile  of  deep  sand ;  keep  straight  ahead  at 
the  school  house ,  descend  a  hill  and  cross  a  covered  bridge  just  before  entering  Easthampton, 
whose  concrete  sidewalks  supply  good  riding.  The  road  thither  is  rather  hilly  and  sandy  and  is 
at  its  best  soon  after  a  summer  shower.  The  road  s.  from  Northampton  through  the  meadows 
to  the  Ox  Bow  (Ml  Tom  station)  is  also  apt  to  be  soft,  so  that,  in  the  early  spring  and  late 
autumn,  the  railroad  track,  to  which  it  is  parallel,  is  often  chosen  as  affording  better  riding. 
Entrance  may  be  had  to  this  meadow  road  by  turning  left,  through  Maple  st,  after  crossing 
the  bridge  at  the  foot  of  South  st.  hill.  The  road  from  Northampton  to  Amherst,  n.  e.,  7  m., 
has  been  ridden  in  40  min.,  but  usually  requires  twice  that  amount  of  time.  The  character  of 
the  soil  is  sandy,  with  some  stretches  of  day,  and  the  side  paths  and  walks  supply  most  of  the 
good  riding.  Hadley  is  the  intermediate  vills^e,  situated  about  3  m.  from  the  Mansion  House, 
and  the  Connecticut  river  bridge  is  about  half-way  between.  A  long  hill  must  be  climbed  just 
before  reaching  Amherst,  and  a  good  run  may  be  made  there  on  sidewalks  to  North  Amherst. 


ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD.  1 2 1 

sidewalks  in  Westfield,  along  which  the  bicycler  may  glide  without  need  of 
dismounts,  and  the  road  leading  to  Southwick  is  said  to  be  a  fairly  good  one. 
At  the  dose  of  December,  1882, 1  wheeled  from  Westfield  to  Springfield  with 
only  one  dismount,  and  that  happened  on  the  long  upward  climb  after  cross- 
ing the  railroad  bridge,  though  I  understand  that  this  hill  has  often  been  con- 
quered by  other  wheelmen.^  The  road  branching  northward  from  the  brow 
of  the  hill  west  of  Block  brook  leads  to  the  mountain  picnic  ground,  called 

II  myself  rode  up  it,  Sept.  16,  1884,  as  the  final  act  in  a  tiresome  day's  journey  of  40  m., 
across  the  hills  from  Lee,  ending  thus  a  five  days'  tour  from  Newark,  by  way  of  Newbuig  and 
Pooghkeepsie,  about  aoo  m.  I  was  forced  to  walk  more  on  this  last  day  than  during  all  the 
previous  four }  and  the  longest  stretch  of  hopelessly  deep  sand  was  that  which  ended  at  the  head 
of  Franklin  St.,  in  Westfield.  From  the  Morgan  House,  in  Lee,  I  had  2|  m.  of  good  wheeling, 
to  a  iMg  hill  of  sand ;  5^  m.  beyond  which,  at  the  old  tavern  stand  (West  Becket),  I  turned  00 
down  through  the  woods,  to  N.  Blandford,  instead  of  keeping  the  direct  road  (r.)  to  Otis,  and  at 
noon  I  reached  the  Mountain  House  in  Blandford,  where  a  fine  view  may  be  had.  Though  the 
grade  is  downward  for  the  8  m.  thenoe  to  the  end  of  Franklin  St.,  I  was  2^  h.  in  reaching  that 
point;  and  I  do  not  believe  the  journey  from  Westfield  towards  Lee  would  be  any  easier.  An- 
other tourist,  who  pushed  his  bicycle  over  the  Berkshire  hills  a  day  or  two  earlier  than  myself, 
reports  as  follows  :  "  Williamstown  to  Lanesboro,  16  m.  of  rather  soft  road,  requiring  a  whole 
forenoon.  Obedient  to  a  bad  adviser  (who  told  us  to  shorten  our  route  to  Springfield  6  m.  by 
avcndlng  Ptttsfield,  which  was  our  next  objective  point),  we  turned  to  the  left,  at  the  first  cross- 
road beyond  the  hotel,  and  after  two  hours  of  alternate  walking  and  rough  riding,  reached  Dal- 
too,  6^  m.  A  few  miles  farther  on,  the  road  becomes  even  worse,  soon  turning  into  a  mere 
mountain  path,  hardly  accessible  to  a  man  on  foot ;  and  so  we  ventured  upon  the  railway,  and 
there  found  capital  wheeling.  Proceeding  cautiously  (on  account  of  the  projecting  ties  and 
the  narrowness  of  the  path),  but  at  a  fair  rate  of  speed,  we  passed  through  Hinsdale  and 
Washington  and  readied  Becket  about  dusk,  13  m.  from  Dalton.  On  the  morning  of  Sept.  15, 
we  again  took  to  the  track,  but  the  many  cuts  and  culverts,  together  with  the  riiarp  lookout  we 
were  obliged  to  keep  for  trains,  made  riding  anything  but  pleasant,  and  we  were  glad  to  arrive  at 
Westfield  (14  m.)  with  our  bones  still  in  their  proper  places."  An  earlier  explorer  (M.  D.  B.,  in 
B.  IV.,  Sept.  2,  '81)  gave  similar  testimony :  "  Beyond  Pittsfield,  a  veritable  via  mala  begins, 
and  liardly  ceases  for  the  40  m.  thence  to  Westfield.  To  the  summit  of  the  mountain  in  North 
Bedeet  (15  m.)  but  little  of  the  sandy  road  can  be  ridden,  and  the  9  m.  thence  to  Chester,  over 
another  mountain,  must  be  traveled  on  foot.  I  rode  from  there  to  Westfield  between  the  rail- 
road tracks, — a  dangerous  and  desperate  measure,— but  the  gently  descending  grade,  and  the 
fine  scenery,  were  compensations  for  two  or  three  heavy  falls  and  the  haunting  presence  of 
periL"  As  a  curious  offset  to  this,  I  may  add  the  information  given  me  by  a  credible  witness, 
that  he  has  several  times  driven  a  horse  from  Springfield  to  Peru  (la  m.  from  Pittsfield,— 
Daltoo  and  Hinsdale  being  intermediate  towns),  a  distance  of  45  m.,  in  6^  h.,  and  has  made  the 
letum  drive  in  5^  h.,— passing  through  Russell,  Huntington  and  West  Worthington.  The  same 
raittd  ammal  has  also  drawn  him  to  the  same  point  by  a  longer  and  hillier  route,  through 
Northampton,  Williamsburg,  Worthington  Comers  and  Worthington  Center.  Still  another 
strange  story  concerning  this  rough  route  is  contained  in  C.  A.  Hazlett*s  summary,  "  Notable 
Runs  and  Excursions  of  1883  "  (Xhain^t  March,  1884,  p.  454),  thus  :  "  On  Sept.  19,  William  V. 
Mason,  jr.,  of  the  Rhode  Iriand  Bicycle  Club,  made  a  run  of  100  m.,  from  Springfield  to  Hudson, 
by  way  of  Russell ;  and  he  returned,  Oct  13,  from  Hudson  to  Springfield,  by  way  of  Chester, 
112  m.  He  reports  the  roads  in  fair  condition,  and  the  weather  on  both  runs  all  that  could  be 
asked.  Both  runs  were  made  alone,  and  no  spedal  training  had.  He  was  in  fine  condition  at 
the  finish  of  both  runs.  Several  headers  taken,  but  none  of  any  serious  account."  Additional 
detuls  of  these  two  very  remarkable  rides  have  been  diligently  sought  for  by  me,  but  have  not 
been  supplied. 


122  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Bearhole,  about  2\  m.  distant,  and  most  of  it  is  practicable  for  the  bicycle. 
Very  extended  views  may  be  had  from  the  lofty  ridge  along  which  this  road 
runs.  The  return  route  from  Westfield  may  be  still  further  varied  by  de- 
scending the  hill  at  Mittineague,  crossing  the  Agawam  river,  climbing  the 
hill  beyond,  crossing  again  at  the  covered  Agawam  bridge,  and  proceeding 
thence  in  a  straight  line  eastward  to  the  old  covered  bridge  at  Springfield. 
The  distance,  3  m.,  may  be  done  without  dismount,  though  the  first  half,  end- 
ing  at  the  Agawam  bridge,  requires  careful  riding.  Instead  of  the  second 
half,  another  good  route  of  equal  length  leads  northward  along  the  river 
across  the  railroad  track,  and  thence  eastward  along  the  south  side  of  the 
common  in  West  Springfield  to  the  iron  bridge.  The  main  street  of  the 
town  extends  a  similar  distance  southward  to  the  old  bridge,  and  has  a  brick 
sidewalk  which  is  continuously  ridable,  though  no  need  exists  of  resorting  to  it 
except  in  muddy  weather.  Roughly  speaking,  the  roads  connecting  the  three 
bridges  may  be  said  to  form  an  equilateral  triangle,  each  side  of  which  is  i^ 
m.  long ;  and  the  whole  circuit  may  be  made  in  either  direction  without  stop. 
The  southward  route  from  Springfield  crosses  the  iron  bridge  into 
Agawam,  about  1}  m.  below  the  city  hall,  and  extends  along  the  river  bank 
for  nearly  3  m.  till  it  reaches  the  main  road  at  Porter's  distillery.  I  have 
ridden  this  course  northward  without  a  stop,  when  November  frosts  had  stiff- 
ened the  sand ;  but  I  think  that  at  most  seasons  of  the  year  there  are  some 
soft  places  which  can  hardly  be  driven  through.  An  excellent  clay  road  ex- 
tends southward  from  Porter's  through  the  town  of  Suffield ;  and  in  August 
last  I  rode  down  it  for  7  m.  until  a  new  coating  of  gravel  on  the  hill  beyond 
the  bridge,  2  m.  north  of  Windsor  Locks,  forced  my  first  dismount.  Four 
long  hills  had  to  be  climbed  on  this  course,  and  I  considered  the  act  of  rid- 
ing up  the  last  and  longest  of  them,  which  is  directly  opposite  Thompsonville, 
quite  a  creditable  feat.  The  two  following  miles  of  roadway  were, the 
smoothest  of  all,  and  commanded  a  fine  view  of  the  eastern  side  of  the  valley. 
From  the  old  bridge  over  the  Agawam,  by  the  main  road  eastward  along  the 
river  and  then  southward,  the  distance  to  Porter's  distillery  is  3  m.,  and  the 
first  two-thirds  of  it  may  be  easily  ridden  in  either  direction  without  stop,  over 
a  road  of  clay  and  gravel,  though  two  hills  have  to  be  climbed  near  the  river. 
For  a  mile  to  the  northward  of  Porter's  the  roadway  is  rather  soft,  and  the 
eastern  sidewalk  supplies  a  preferable  path ;  but  an  expert  rider  might  perhaps 
have  the  luck  to  reach  the  distillery  without  a  dismount  (6  m.  from  the  city 
hall,  by  way  of  the  North-end  bridge),  and  he  could  then  go  at  least  7  m.  further 
without  halting,  and  perhaps  also  to  Windsor  Locks. ^     As  a  Hartford  man 

lOn  Dec  4,  1884,  I  rode  from  West  Springfield  until  stopped  by  the  newly-laid  stones  of  the 
railway-crossing  below  Windsor  Locks  (16^  m.  in  2  h.  40  min.),  except  that  I  was  forced  to  make 
one  intermediate  halt,  on  the  frozen  ruts  of  an  up-grade  beyond  the  little  brook  in  the  woods, 
about  10  m.  from  the  start  and  4  m.  south  of  Porter's.  From  the  crossing  I  went  without  stop 
to  the  highest  watercourse  of  the  long  Windsor  hill  (5^  m.  in  50  min.),  which  I  never  before  ao 
nearly  succeeded  in  conquering. 


ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD. 


123 


has  wheeled  up  to  this  point  without  stop  (13  m.)i  it  even  seems  possible  that 
a  bicycler  might  stay  in  his  saddle  for  the  entire  route  from  Springfield  to 
Hartford,  28  m.,  as  here  described.  Indeed,  I  have  heard  it  rumored  that  a 
Springfield  man  has  really  wheeled  to  Hartford  without  stop,  down  the  east 
side  of  the  river,  but  I  can  hardly  credit  the  story,  because  such  a  feat  would 
seem  to  me  more  remarkable  than  anything  yet  known  to  have  been  accom- 
plished on  a  bicycle.  The  roads  through  East  Hartford,  East  Windsor, 
Enfield,  and  Longmeadow,  are  for  the  most  part  soft  and  sandy,  and  though 
the  bicycling  tourist  is  cheered  by  many  miles  of  good  sidewalks,  these  are  by 
no  means  continuous.  I  drove  my  wheel  down  this  route,  on  the  9th  of  Jan- 
uary, over  the  frozen  snow  and  with  a  strong  north  wind  at  my  back  (28  m.), 
in  less  than  five  hours ;  but  my  progress  along  the  same  course  in  summer  has 
been  considerably  slower. 

A  southwesterly  ride  of  9  m.  without  a  dismount  may  be  had  by  way  of 
the  North  and  Agawam  bridges,  through  Feeding  Hills,  toward  Southwick 
ponds.  Turning  to  the  right  after  crossing  the  Agawam  river,  the  left-hand 
road  must  be  taken  at  the  first  fork,  and  a  rather  difficult  hill  ascended ;  then, 
about  a  mile  from  the  bridge,  where  four  roads  meet,  a  turn  should  be  taken 
away  from  the  telegraph  poles,  and  the  main  road  leading  from  Mittineague 
should  be  followed  straight  across  the  plain,  2\  m.,  to  the  town  hall  in  Feed- 
ing Hills,  and  |  m.  beyond  it,  when  a  turn  should  be  taken  to  the  south,  and, 
after  2  m.  more  of  level  riding,  another  turn  westward,  to  a  short  hill  which 
causes  a  stop.  About  5  m.  beyond,  after  several  other  turns,  the  picnic- 
grounds  between  the  ponds  are  passed.  The  main  road  is  reached  at  the 
Methodist  church,  a  mile  westward,  and  the  southward  course  from  there 
continues  smooth  for  2  m.  to  Veits's  tavern,  just  beyond  the  Connecticut  line, 
where  five  roads  come  together.  One  of  these  leads  to  the  old  copper  mine 
and  prison  on  Turkey  hill,  in  Simsbury,  and  is  presumably  ridable  ;  and  the 
route  thence  to  the  river  road  in  Suffield  cannot  be  a  difficult  one.  I  was  told 
that  the  northward  course  from  the  Methodist  church,  through  Southwick  to 
Westfield,  was  generally  smooth  and  hard;  and  the  "back-street"  route 
from  Feeding  Hills  to  Westfield  is  also  said  to  be  practicable  for  the  wheel. 
From  the  point  about  3  m.  southwest  of  Feeding  Hills,  where  the  Springfield 
rider  is  first  forced  to  stop,  he  may  return  through  Mittineague,  climb  its  steep 
hill,  coast  down  the  long  hill  to  the  post-office  in  West  Springfield,  and  ascend 
the  church  hill  (10  m.),  without  dismount.  The  view  from  the  hill  is  a  fine 
one,  but  its  northern  slope  must  be  descended  with  care,  on  account  of  the 
loose  gravel.  The  westward  road  from  the  church  makes  two  southward 
turns  in  reaching  Mittineague,  but  avoids  the  hills,  and  is  all  ridable,  though 
usually  requiring  dismounts. 

The  roads  branching  off  towards  Chicopee,  at  points  i}  m.  and  2  m.  above 
the  church  hill  in  West  Springfield,  are  not  as  hard  as  the  main  road  to  Hol- 
yoke,  but  can  usually  be  ridden  to  the  bridge  without  dismount.  The  plank- 
ing of  this  bridge  needs  more  attention  than  that  of  the  two  iron  bridges  at 


I 


,24  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Springfield  or  the  one  at  Holyoke,  bat  b  much  better  than  that  of  the  old 
bridge  at  Springfield,  whose  cracks  threaten  disaster  to  the  tires  of  a  careless 
rider.  The  village  streets  of  Chicopee  and  Cbicopee  Falls  are  not  particu- 
larly bad,  but  their  numerous  concrete  sidewalks  supply  much  pleaaanter 
riding,  and  the  curbings  are  not  usually  abrupt.  The  town  hail  in  Chicopee 
stands  {  m.  from  the  bridge,  and  the  approach  thereto,  along  the  left-band 
sidewalk  of  Exchange  st.,  is  uninterrupleil  There  is  no  need  of  a  stop  in 
crossing  the  road  in  front  of  it  to  the  concrete  walk  leading  np-hill  to  the 
bridge  at  Chicopee  Falls,  about  z  m.  I  myself,  on  the  25lh  of  August,  con- 
tinued across  this  bridge,  and  climbed  the  steep  hill  beyond  it,  but  was  forced 
to  dismount  at  the  end  of  the  sidewalk  soon  after  begiiming  the  descent. 
This  was  at  a  point  nearly  3  m.  from  the  town  hall,  and  the  road  keeps  de- 
scending for  2  m.  further,  until  it  reaches  the  railroad  crossing  a  few  rods  be- 
low the  Willimansett  station.  The  whole  descent  may  be  easily  made  with- 
out dismount,  though  hardly  any  riding  would  be  possible  on  the  upward 
slope-  The  main  road  leading  back  to  the  town  hail,  distant  4  m.,  is  called 
Cbicopee  Street,  and  is  entirely  level,  but  is  believed  to  be  too  soft  for  bi- 
cycling. In  the  other  direction,  for  i  m.  along  the  riverside  north  of  Willi- 
mansett, I  found  this  road  to  be  ridable,  excepla  few  short  pilches,  though  none 
of  it  supplied  good  riding,  and  the  whole  would  probably  be  impassable  in 
bad  weather.  A  mile  of  smooth  riding  on  the  sidewalks  and  bridge  extends 
this  route  to  the  Holyoke  House,  whence  a  relum  may  be  made  to  Spring- 
Geld  over  the  well-known  course.  From  the  town  hall  in  Chicopee  to  the 
Memorial  Church,  3}  m.,  oye  may  easily  go  without  dismount  (the  road  being 
really  an  extension  of  Main  st.,  and  macadamized  as  far  as  the  city  limits), 
and,  of  course,  the  return  from  Holyoke  to  the  city  hall  may  be  made  by  this 
route  also  without  dismount.  The  northward  ride  would  be  less  agreeable, 
on  account  of  the  need  of  climbing  the  Chicopee  hill, — from  which,  by  the 
by,  a  fine  view  of  the  valley  farming-lands  may  be  had.  The  route  connect- 
ing Chicopee  Falls  with  India!!  Orchard  is  about  5  ra.  long,  and  nearly  a 
quarter  of  it  usually  has  to  be  traveled  on  foot.  The  extension  of  State  st, 
beyond  the  terminus  of  the  horse-cai  tracks,  sapplies  good  riding  for  j  m.  or 
so  in  the  du'ection  of  Sixteen  Acres;  and  Walnut  sL,  which  branches  south- 
ward from  State  at  the  corner  of  the  Armory  grounds,  may  likewise  be  easily 
followed  for  \\  ro.,  lo  the  water-shops,  and  twice  that  distance  beyond  into 
the  region  of  East  Longmeadow,  whence  il  is  likely  enough  that  a  practicable 
route  might  be  found  leading  through  Longmeadow  proper,  and  so  back  to 
Springfield.  The  return  from  the  water-shops  ma 
ing  the  horse-car  tracks  through  Central,  Maple,  ai 
mostly  on  a  down  grade;  Or,  if  the  cemetery  b< 
traversed  thence  lo  Crescent  Hill,  where  a  fine  vi 
winding  descent  be  made  thence  to  the  region  of  S 
slope  of  Ames's  Hill,  leading  into  Maple  st.,  shou 
tion ;  and  the  south  sidewalk  of  Union  st.  should 


rssys.i.vD  miles  on  a  bicycle. 

;  ■  t-^^^  a  zii.ei  naj,  witfaoat  dismoant,  reach  the  top  of  the 
.  ;~t.  <-; — r^f'r'.,  boja  a  point  lo  m.  to  the  southwest,  has  al- 
7 —  -  ir^  -d  ibeie  will  then  be  no  obstacle  to  bis  easy  pri^ess 
w^  ^  .£:«.  -  a.  further,  and  for  another  mile  to  the  south  end  of 
..^~-iu.£  a  South  Hadlcy  Falls,  making  iS  m.  straightaway 
-  r  K  were  strong  enough  to  climb  westward  from  the 
..-^    a:-;:  sKTSoantthe  Ewingsirille  hill,  he  might  even  cover  2 1 

-  -ij:-'"3T  beiore  the  sands  below  Smith's  Ferry  forced  a  halt 
...  I   :.  ,  3  West  Springlield  northeastward  to  the  town  hall   in 

.     n;  -\^  ioaJiward  lo  the  bridge  below  Springfield,  a  distance 
—■-.-■-  exists  to  cause  a  dismount ;   and  as  it  is  sometimes 
...  I  .E  =eTi«  3  in.  to  Porter's  distillery  and  7  m.  to  the  covered 
■.■^  =:^hi  chance  to  do  the  30  m.  without  stop,  though  he 
.  -1.-^:^  inrdly  a  dozen  miles  distant  from  the  point  of  Start- 
.  _  -i.-jtion  of  this  route,  for  a  long  stay  in  the  saddle,  would 
■  i-_— -z  Hiils,  West  Springlield,  Chicopee,  Springfield,  and 
......  'e^ksville.     The  distance  is  27  m.,  and  the  chance  of  com- 

■  u  ic;?  is  better  than  in  the  case  of  the  30-m.  and  21-m.  routes. 
1  :.  ii  to  see  the  competitions  of  the  local  club  take  the  form 
.,  .c--rc!n  the  victory  should  be  given  not  lo  the  fastest  rider, 
..^  •-0  covered  the  most  miles  of  roadway  without  leaving  his 
i_:.T^  his  course.  The  effect  of  such  contests  would  be  to  fix 
.  J  ^S'ia  the  fact  that  the  region  has  such  an  unusually  large 
~.'^  roads  as  to  make  it  an  attractive  place  for  bicyclers  to 
.;■: -.Ddividualiy.  and  an  appropriate  place  for  the  race-course 
_:>^  which  may  be  annually  made  the  scene  of  their  largest  col- 
.  -zs:*  and  exhibition!.  Yet,  the  proportion  of  good  roads  ought 
_■=■.  »nd  the  (|ualily  of  the  best  of  them  ought  to  be  still  better, 
^i:  the  ullimale  Influence  of  the  "  tournament  "  will  be  in  the  line 
r-:^  to  puM  hath  of  these  desirable  things. 

-  :  Himi'-l""  limiily  "(N,  V.  :  J,  B.  BetriaCD.,36  Vtsey  at,  1874,  pp.  70, 
----«J  ^il  ■B>*i^w  ill  il"!  lirupiraiJQn  of  thia  chapter.    Wall  mapa  of  Springfield 

rt  arhl  •™  *!"■  '"ii^il  by  the  stmt  publishm.    G.  H.  Walker  &  Co.,  160 


n  ii  likely  to  ti>  ad- 
The  II  chipien.  or 

.yi"  (HcDUn  Smiih) 

iHUiijlg  them,  on  Ifae 


^e*t  Spring5eld '  uu) 


illeu  wilh  vhicb  Geo. 
upon  the  qiuhit  bEqoc 
inoTy  gTOUDds,  where 
bnark  which  dcservei 
CouTI  Square,  which 

I  Ihe  w.  leminiu  of 
■mcrlyciUedlhe  B4y 
n  which  all  the  «her 

ned  Ihe  New  Haven 


It  he  the  foUowIiit  n. 
8o]  ;  "Theroadiof 
.ence  the  inhabilanti 
1  muliliude  of  >>nn- 


i  paralLeL  lo  nilwiy, 
10  weal  end  of  North 

L.  I^arkin,  third,  by 
Campbell  (third)  had 


It  the  bridge; 
near  Smith'. 


ird  wu  kept  of  the 
a  (July  8,  '»4)  led 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A 


•  Sprii«fcld  iod  it.  environ.  •';  »d  ,  report . 

rf  11  n»y.  t 

1  ibe  pre«nl  ch»i*H.    The  lidM  mi  >  meinb 

«of  theU 

<.  Augut  17,  iS}2),  whose  record  fat  Ihe  year 

nning  opeDH  oC  whicb  for  i,j»  a.  wen 

leu  than  | 

riding  in  Ihe  ifinnE  of  'Si,  but  kept  no  record  for  tint  two  KiiKmi 
niffal,  catrriDg  Ewrlrinr  ejclometer  but  no  lanEcm,  though  the  m 
he  wenl  Ibnm^  Beriin  Center  and  New  Briuin  to  HunfonJ,  .t  >. 
■aduuhlbee«(.ideiiHUeloSpriiigfield(4Sni.),il&iS  A' U'  "> 
did  BDd  caiue  ■  diamounl,  eitcept  once  on  a  tide  path,  under  the 
aa3w»,li*bu"riddenupalllbehiJla."  After  a  halt  of  |  h.  f 
P.LnicT  u  9.40;  waj  accompanied  tfaence  to  West  Brimfteld  by 
Braokfieldal  ii.ia<g;  m.);  •lopped  i  h.  {or  dinner;  Worce.ter  i 
60a  al  »!  Pepperell  U  10.  This  is  only  lo  in.  from  Nashua, 
waDdenng  frotn  the  proper  tnck  on  the  way  thither,  »  that  the  eo 
I>.1{  A.  H,  The  recocd  wai  then  ij;  m.,  whereof  leu  than  5  m.  I 
thi.  lui  sage  of  the  journey  a  heavy  miil  or  light  rain  pnvailed,  j 
in  Ihe  lanL  The  only  other  header  was  by  daylight,  before  reachii 
cool  atid  cloudy,  with  wind  rather  againu  me,  but  not  strong  enouj 

■nd  Nashua;  but,  u  I  expected  In  £nd  them  wonie,  the  fact  I 
muniged  me  la  kick  onwaid.  Between  Clinton  and  Ayer  Jui 
•trtlch  of  mad, — abnoet  like  a  race-track  for  1 1  m. , — and  this  put  11 
of  course,  when  I  reached  NaUiua,  but  not  exhausted.  Perha[ 
record  thai  I  hare  never  used  ardent  s| 


KHher 


mlhui 


"i 


voted  to  Tiding  4}  m,  additional  by  train),  was  reported  10  m?  by  I 
nd  at  New  Haven,  whoee  day's  ride  af  107  m.  between  Springfielc 
described  in  the  next  chapter,  a.  well  as  his  long  stay  in  the  .addle  ()i 
twecn  W.  Haven  and  the  Saugiluck  (pp.  ijS,  149).  The  fol1owin| 
Ihe  record  M  prinied  in  the  (fiw;,  Jan 


mlOn.  . 
isih. 


■a*),  » 


Jlcydon^l 
per ;  then  • 


ough   H 


1  obliged  to  light  my  lantern  i  m.  out  of  MeHden 
daiknesi,  reaching  Hartford  at  9.10,  4^  m.  Leaving  there  t  h.  U 
took  the  w.  side  of  river,  going  up  through  Apwam,  and  reachin| 
m.  Out  of  SpringfieM,  by  way  of  Bcraton  turnpike,  [  fDuruj  san 
after  a  few  milei  of  thi.,  1  took  to  the  railroad  tiacka,  and  made  | 
(B.30,  loSm.li  where,  being  ordered  off  the  track,  1  boarded  (he  tn 
at  S.  Framingham,  from  which  pinnt  I  had  heard  the  roods  were 
like  a  race  course ;  and,  Dwunling  al  te.o],  1  rolled  off  the  first  16 
wrong  madintothedty,  Icouiuiied|h.in  doing  the  last  6  m. ;  and 
(office  of  the  ^1'.  Wffrld),a  is.4)  p.  m.  of  Oct.  so,  with  a  cyclome 
sent  sn  actual  riding  time  of  17I  h.  After  a  bath  and  dinner,  1  : 
frtendrgoing  several  dmes  around  it,  and  back,  a  total  of  13  m.  M 
ncer,  weighing  16I  Iba.,  mihoui  brake  (Lillibridge  saddle);  andii 
(he  end  of  the  14}  m,,  ihough  h  had  had  neither  oil  nor  wrench  at 
The  League  consul  at  Westboio',  F.  O.  Swallow  (b.  Dec  16,  i 

Park,  eor,  Tremont  M.,  Bo«on,  without  leaving  the  Mddle,— ai* 
J,  ».  (1  h.  j8  min.,  or  an  average  of  ..]  m.  to  the  h.)  w 
which  1  had  never  before  traversed  %  the  next  i\  m.  repres 
of  Qiesnul  HiU  Reservoir  \  and  I  went  (hence  diiedly  to 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT.' 

"  Thames,"  the  historic  name  of  a  more  famous  English  stream,  is  ap- 
plied in  Cunneciicut  to  nothing  else  than  the  final  section  of  a  river  or  con- 
fluence of  rivers,  stretching  entirely  across  the  State,  from  the  Sound  to 
Massachusetts.  At  Norwich,  Ibc  easterly  branch  lakes  the  name  of  Qulne- 
baug,  and  the  railroad  for  Worcester  follows  its  general  course,  until  the 
stream  bends  westward  and  finally  disappears  in  little  broots  of  Hampden 
county  at  Brimfield,  near  the  feeders  of  the  Chicopee  river,  flowing  in  the 
other  direction.  An  easterly  branch  of  the  Quincbaug,  called  French  river, 
similarly  sinbs  away  into  the  ponds  of  the  border-towns  of  Worcester  county. 
The  westerly  brancb  of  the  Thames  at  Norwich  ia  named  Natchaug,  and  ill 
westerly  branch,  above  Willimantic,  takes  the  name  of  that  town,  which  name 
afterwards  gives  place  to  Middle  river,  Furnace  brook,  and  Roaring  biook; 
and  all  three  of  these  feeders  take  rise  on  the  border  of  Massachusetts. 
Mashapaug  Lake,  just  below  the  same  border,  has  an  outlet  called  Bigelow 
river,  which  forms  another  terminus  of  the  Natchaug,  though  shorter  branches 
of  this  are  called  Mt.  Hope  river,  Fenton  river  and  Sliil  river.  Hop  river,  a 
western  parallel  of  the  Willimantic  branch  of  the  Natchaug,  joins  it  near  that 
town  ;  and  from  there  northward  to  Massachusetts  (about  2j  m.)  the  Willi- 
mantic river  is  closely  adjoined  by  the  Noribem  railroad,  which  also  runs 
alongside  the  west  bank  of  its  outlet,  the  Thames,  for  the  dozen  miles  below 
I.  long,  and  the  little 
nearest  the  Sound. 
it,  is  the  Thames,  a 

nay  characterize  the 
1  the  confluence  and 
avily  wooded, — and 
ng  into  its  broad  ex- 
ittach  to  any  section 
icid  beauties  of  the 

m  Connecticat;  but 
which  I  have  cata- 
.  border,  so  that  the 
)se  streams  will  ad- 


130  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

vance  in  a  fairly  direct  line  towards  the  coast.  As  all  English  roads  lead  to  ■ 
London,  so  all  these  river-roads  lead  to  New  London, — a  little  old-fashioned 
dty  (pop.  12,000),  sleeping  serenely  on  the  west  tank  of  the  Thames,  and 
rarely  disturbed  by  anything  more  serious  than  regretful  dreams  of  the  brave 
old  days  when  fleets  of  adventurous  whale-ships  made  its  name  well-known  in 
the  world  of  trade.  "  I  found  very  fair  wheeling  there  in  July,"  says  a  report 
which  1  printed  in  1880;  "  the  favorite  route  leading  from  the  city  hall  and 
post-office,  easterly  through  State  st.  and  southerly  through  Bank  st.,  for 
nearly  }  m.;  then  east  and  south  along  the  shore-road  to  the  Pequot  House, 
nearly  2  m.,  and  to  the  light-house,  j  m.  beyond.  The  whole  distance  may  be 
traversed  in  either  direction  without  dismount ;  and  the  two  miles  or  so  of 
shore-road,  being  composed  of  powdered  oyster-shells,  is  as  pleasant  a  place 
for  a  short  spin  as  One  need  wish  for."  Local  riders  assured  me,  three  years 
later,  that  they  had  occasionally  gone  northward  along  the  river  as  far  as 
Norwich  without  any  serious  trouble,  but  had  never  extensively  explored  the 
shore  of  the  Sound,  either  to  the  east  or  to  the  west, — because  of  a  general 
impression  that  the  roads  were  sandy  and  unridable.  I  was  told,  too,  that 
certain  parts  of  the  road  leading  through  Niantic  and  South  Lyme,  were  occa- 
sionally  flooded  at  high-tide  ;  and  I  was  recommended  to  take  the  hillier, 
inland  road,  as  suppying  the  preferable  westward  course — at  least   to   the 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  the  last  day  of  June,  1883, — four  days  after  the 
completion  of  my  touring  experiences  with  the  Down  East  Party,  at  Mount 
Desert  (Chapter  XX.), — that  I  faced  westward  from  New  London  on  my 
wheel ;  and,  as  I  silently  turned  my  back  upon  the  quiet  old  town,  within 
whose  limits  and  in  whose  behalf  1  had  silently  "  struggled  for  the  unattain- 
able "  during  the  final  week  of  six  successive  Junes,  I  felt  both  the  regret 
which  always  oppresses  a  man  when  conviction  comes  that  bis  ideal  is  un- 
attainable, and  the  relief  which  always  accompanies  the  consciousness  that  a 
long  struggle  is  ended.  My  struggle  had  been  to  provide  an  ideal  manage- 
ment for  the  annual  race  between  the  representative  crews  of  New  England's 
two  oldest  colleges,  and  to  separate  from  it  all  subsidiary  rowing  contests,  be- 
cause of  their  tendency  to  complicate  the  problem  of  providing  a  clear  course 
upon  a  navigable  stream.  In  lack  of  legal  authority  for  controlling  the  river's 
surface,  "  moral  suasion  "  must  be  depended  upon  for  the  enforcement  of  the 
needed  regulations ;  and  this  ceases  to  be  a  power  to  conjure  with,  just  as  soon 
as  the  rowing  of  small  races  in  safety  has  deadened  people's  sensibilities  to 
the  truth  that  the  most  elaborate  safeguards  should  he  taken  to  avert  dis- 
aster in  the  rowing  of  larger  ones.  In  1S7S,  when  "the  mayor  and  leading 
citizens  "  invited  me  up  to  New  London  (to  secretly  serve  as  dtui  ix  maihina 
in  helping  them  demonstrate  the  possibility  of  successfully  managing,  under 
extraordinarily  difficult  conditions,  an  event  which  had  always  been  mis- 
managed elsewhere,  on  courses  much  more  easily  controlled),  I  found  every. 
one  ready  to  accept  without  question  the  minutest  details  of  the  precautions 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT.        131 

which  I,  in  the  name  of  the  local  committee,  promulgated  for  the  government 
of  the  river.    The  unanimous  chorus  in  praise  of  New  London  management, 
which  the  newspapers  chanted  after  the  event,  was  the  more  significant  be- 
cause of  its  contrast  to  their  denunciations  of  previous  mismanagement  on 
other  courses  in  former  years ;  but  though  it  was  repeated  in  the  season  f ol* 
lowing,  and  again,  and  again,  or  until  the  exceptionally  perfect  government  of 
the  Thames  course  came  to  be  taken  for  granted,  as  a  universally  recognized 
fact  which  needed  no  comment, — my  eyes  were  never  thereby  blinded  to  the 
dangers  and  difficulties  which  beset  the  management.    The  distance  of  its  ad- 
vance ahead  of  all  previous  efiForts,  as  judged  by  outside  critics,  represented 
approximate  perfection ;  but,  as  judged  by  me,  with  an  inside  knowledge  of 
its  actual  defects  and  possibilities,  this  great  advance  seemed  less  important 
than  the  distance  by  which  the  management  still  fell  short  of  my  ideal  stand- 
ard.   The  final  abandonment  of  this  ideal  as  unattainable  was  forced  upon 
me  by  the  stupid  persistence  of  one  of  the  competing  colleges  in  bringing 
subsidiary  contests  to  the  river,  and  thereby  impairing  the  popular  belief  in 
the  necessity  of  any  rigid  rules  like  "  No  unofficial  boats  to  be  in  motion  at 
the  time  of  the  race.**    The  extent  to  which  these  wretched  little  side-shows 
demoralized  public  opinion  was  made  plain  by  the  fact  that  the  Collector  of 
the  Port  who,  in  '78,  vigorously  proclaimed  for  me,  through  the  columns  of 
his  newspaper,  the  necessity  of  obeying  the  rule  just  quoted,  openly  violated 
it  in  '82,  by  running  a  private  steam-tug  in  the  wake  of  the  race.    This  act 
was  a  disheartening  token  that  my  ideal  of  good-management  was  never  likely 
to  be  realized ;  and  when,  a  year  later,  I  learned  that  the  sagacious  railway 
superintendent  who,  from  the  outset,  had  put  at  my  command  the  men,  mate- 
rial and  money  needed  to  effect  a  respectable  result,  was  about  to  remove 
from  the  State,  I  definitely  gave  up  my  "  struggle  for  the  unattainable,"  as 
aforesaid.     I  abandoned  my  dream  of  creating  "  an  ideal  environment  "  for 
the  annual  boat  race.    As  I  turned  my  back  upon  the  city,  that  summer  morn- 
ing, I  also  resolutely  put  behind  me  all  thought  of  ever  again  attempting  to 
realize  the  great  scheme  which  had  possessed  my  mind  for  more  than  a 
dozen  years.     I  saw  that  life  was  too  short.    From  that  day  forward,  I  have 
ridden  no  other  hobby  than  the  bicycle  I 

I  had  to  walk  with  it,  however,  up  the  hill  leading  westward  from  New 
London  at  a  point  a  little  beyond  where  the  shell-road  for  the  light-house,  as 
before  described,  branches  off  to  the  left.  At  the  fork,  1}  m.  further,  where 
the  left  road  points  for  Jordanville,  I  took  the  right,  reached  a  roadside  well 
of  excellent  water  in  2  m.,  and  Niantic  river,  2  m.  beyond,  at  10  o'clock.  The 
track  was  sandy  up  to  this  point,  but  afterwards  it  grew  harder,  and  the  side- 
walks and  paths  were  generally  good, — so  that  riding  rather  than  walking 
was  the  rule.  A  mile  beyond  the  river,  I  passed  the  post-office  and  store  of 
Flanders  (East  Lyme),  and  at  the  school  house  in  the  fork  of  the  roads,  2\  m., 
I  tamed  to  the  right,  passed  Rogers  pond,  3  m. ;  reached  the  main  street  of 
Old  Lyme,  2  m.,  found  good  riding  on  the  w.  sidewalk  as  far  as  the  store  and 


132  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

church,  I  m.;  and  got  (o  Clark's  hotel,  at  (he  fetry  on  the  Connecticut  river, 
1  m.,  at  I  o'clock.  I  had  been  5  h.  in  doing  the  17  m,,  and,  as  1  indulged  in  no 
very  long  slops,  a  poor  average  of  roadway  is  indicated.  The  clusters  of  laurel 
blooming  luxuriantly  in  the  woods,  and  from  high  rocks  overhanging  the 
road,  gave  that  forenoon's  route  a  rather  pleasant  place  in  tny  memoiy,  hoW' 
ever.  A  row-boat  summoned  by  a  horn  from  Ihe  other  shoie,  took  me  across 
the  river,  after  dinner  ;  and  the  necessity  of  climbing  several  cherry  trees  and 
of  hailing  for  a  shower  at  Saybrook  Junction  (2  m.)  resulted  in  my  leaving 
that  station  as  late  as  4  o'clock.  The  next  hour  brought  me  to  Ihe  church 
and  post-office  in  Westbrook  (5  m.)  1  and  a  similar  time  and  distance  took  me 
past  the  Morgan  School  in  Clinton  (with  its  monument  to  mark  it  as  a  rest- 
ing place  of  Yale  College  in  1705),  to  the  comer  or  street  crossing,  where  I 
left  the  main  road,  and  wheeled  down  to  the  shore  (I  m.),  in  order  to  spend 
the  night  at  the  Bacon  House.  The  houses  and  sidewalks  or  paths  were 
pretty  nearly  continuous  during  this  afternoon's  route,  instead  of  exceptional, 
as  during  the  forenoon's ;  and  I  found  one  specially  good  stretch  of  3  ro., 
after  leaving  Saybrook  Junction.  It  was  here  that  I  completed  my  7,000th 
m. ;  and  my  record  for  June  (20  riding  days,  in  N.  Y.,  Mass.,  Me.  and  Conn.), 
was  just  400  m.,  whereof  the  repetitions  amounted  to  not  more  than  30  m. 
My  afternoon's  progress  would  have  been  faster  except  for  the  mud  which 
was  caused  by  the  shower ;  and  the  entire  (rack  from  Saybrook  to  New  Haven 
may  be  called  continuously  ridable. 

I  had  an  extremely  pleasant  ride  to  New  Haven,  the  following  forenoon 
(zy  m.  in  5  h.),  through  the  dear,  bracing  air  and  bright  sunshine,  on  roads 
quite  free  from  dust  and  mud.     From  the  corner  in  Clinton  to  the  flagpole  in 
Madison  (4  m.),  1  kept  mostly  on   the  sidewalks,  and  I  was  1  h.  in  wheeling 
thence  to  the  green  in  Guilford  (5  m.),  where  I  decided  to  leave  the  turnpike 
in  favor  of  the  shore  road,  and  so  followed  the  telegraph  line  out  from  the 
t.  w.  corner  of  the  green  and  turned  1.  with  (he  poles  at  the  first  fork.    The 
road  across  the  marshes  supplied  goodish  riding,  though  it  isoverflowed  when 
the  tides  are  very  high.     On  a  hill  on  Leete's  Island  (3  m.),  I  stopped  before 
a  little  gravestone  at  the  left  of  (he  road  ( 
Lee(e.  shot  here  by  the  Enemy,  18  June,  178 
to  the  sUtion  a(  Stony  Cieelt  (2  m.),  whence 
I  found  (he  riding  almost  continuously  good, 
I  went  without  stop  to  the  summit  of  the 
stop  to  the  watering  trough  near  Tomlins 
entered  New  Haven.'     The  dock  of  (he  Ne 


1 1  believe  >hi<  i<  Ihi  only  one  nf  ihc  old  cil 
planned  and  tied  al  Ihe  very  beginning.  T 
emignnliwho  fauuled  New  Haien,  tmo  and 
of  a  hiK-niilE  iquare,  boanded  b;  State  and  V 
GeotB.  iU.,  running  neaHre..Ddw.  TliL.  u 
Cfatiidi  and  College  ns.,  parallel  10  Ihe  Gnl  pi 


VD  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT. 


133 


:  from  it  without  dismount  to  the  city  hall  on  Church 
ny  route  being  alangaide  the  car  tracks  to  WoosCer  b[., 

its  prolongation,  over  the  railway  bridge,  then  a  few 
i  Crown  St.,  which  soon  crosses  Church  st.  at  right 
ie&«  Btreels,  and  many  othera  in  the  city  are  macadam- 
rge  number  of  the  New  Haven  sidewalks  are  without 
ssings,  long  rides  may  be  taken  continuously  on  their 
)yster-shells  supply  a  smooth  surface  for  several  of  the 
the  one  to  Lake  Saltonatall,  which  I  should  have  men- 
cl  of  water  that  I  passed  after  descending  the  big 
'hose  roads  ate  of  red  clay.  I  might  also  have  made  a 
another  shell-road,  if  I  had  turned  1.  at  the  crossing, 
hing  Tomlinson's  bridge,  and  gone  southward,  along 
le  harbor,  to  Morris  Cove  (3  m.):  or,  if  I  had  turned  r. 
should  have  had  aaimilar  smooth  track  to  Fair  Haven 

may  be  crossed,  and  entrance  be  made  to  the  city  by 

city  in  that  way  eleven  weeks  previously,  on  the  day 
egan  my  fifth  season  as  a  tourist,  by  riding  down  from 
e  stretch  of  shell-road  from  Montowese  to  Fair  Haven 
nt  riding  I  had  during  the  last  section  of  the  journey, 
anary,  accompanied  me,  that  afternoon,  from  Meriden 
wobably  accounts  for  my  doing  the  distance  (7^  m.)  in 
as  well  as  for  my  having  two  aide  falls  in  sand  ruts, — 
lave  attempted  to  plow  through,  had  1  been  alone,  in- 
r  the  lead  of  such  a  distinguished  "  slayer."  We  did 
rn,for  our  road  was  alongside  the  pond  which  lies  just 
that  the  road  grew  sandier  from  that  point  southward. 
J  I.  from  the  straight  pike  for  New  Haven,  and.  after 

the  church  in  North  Haven  ($  m.),  and  finally  (3  m.) 
I  before  named.  I  was  almost  z  h.  in  getting  across 
ngford,  and  I  do  not  recommend  the  route.  Eight 
I  used  a  part  of  the  same  track,  in  riding  from  Meri- 

M.  to  6  P.  M.,  3S  m.),  when  an  inch  of  fresh  snow  had 
of  danger  to  the  frozen  ruts.  From  the  Winthrop 
e  sidewalk  on  Cook  av.  (1  m.),  and  thence  to  the  rail- 


at  mmtd  thtrt 

(ore  bound  Iht  ctnlr.!  tquiK  o(  Ih.  nin.,  »hich 

iher  right  h.« 

achtwrxubdiTidedinioloutuninertquireti  but 

^■ml™  h^,  » 

HaTtn  nnk  n 

«  in  n«  u  BoMon  inHmg  the  d>>»  of  New  Eng. 

■treiti  lake  in 

oblique  -■■       ■      -        the  border,  of  Ihe  «igin»l 

.  now  appein  d 

n  ihE                                       <nd  ino.1  regubr  feaiuxe 

ikh  hai  b«n 

pretty                                    n  eicelleni  hand-book 

134  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

way  culvert  (2\  m.),  I  made  fair  progress.  At  the  fork,  2\  m.  on,  where  I 
turned  1.  towards  Wallingford  in  April,  I  went  up-hill  to  the  r.,  and  rejoined 
the  mam  road  again  in  i  m.,  near  the  stone  marked  *'  X.  m.  to  N.  H."  I  took 
the  ].  at  the  fork  where  the  r.  leads  to  Hamden,  and  I  turned  squarely  to  the 
1.  about  3  m.  below  the  stone.  Much  walking  was  required  during  the  3  h. 
which  I  gave  to  the  9}  m.  ending  at  this  point ;  but  the  next  2  m.  were  mostly 
ridable  and  brought  me  near  the  railway  station  at  North  Haven,  where,  with- 
out crossing  the  tracks,  I  turned  r.  and  proceeded  along  the  side  paths  to 
New  Haven  (7^  m.)  at  noon.  At  the  fork,  where  the  sidewalks  of  the  main 
street  in  West  Haven  terminate,  and  where,  in  previous  trips,  I  had  turned  I. 
for  the  shore  road,  I  tried  the  experiment  of  turning  r.,  over  the  railway. 
An  experience  of  1}  h.  on  rough  and  hilly  roads  (there  had  been  no  snow-fall 
in  this  region,  but  the  sun  had  sufficed  to  make  considerable  mud)  carried  me 
5  m.  to  a  junction  with  the  turnpike  at  the  brook  2  m.  from  Milford,  where  a 
sign  says  "  7  m.  to  N.  H."  The  first  5  m.  of  this  is  noted  in  my  chapter  on 
"  Winter  Wheeling,**  as  "  a  straight  stretch  through  a  sandy,  deserted  and 
altogether  uninteresting  country, — perhaps  the  meanest  section  of  the  entire 
tour, — ^and  I  was  i  h.  in  getting  over  it.**  The  turns  and  windings  of  the 
route  just  described,  however,  are  so  numerous,  and  there  are  so  many  forks, 
that  a  tom-ist  who  tried  it  in  approaching  New  Haven  would  be  apt  to  go 
astray.  I  recommend,  therefore,  that,  in  leaving  Milford  for  the  city,  the 
shore  road  be  taken, — by  turning  r.  from  the  n.  end  of  the  green. 

When  I  started  out  through  the  snow-covered  streets  of  Meriden,  that 
morning,  my  plan  was  to  follow  the  advice  of  some  New  Haven  riders,  who 
told  me  of  a  good  road  leading  through  the  hills  to  Mt.  Carmel,  from  a  cer« 
tain  point  in  the  turnpike  near  Wallingford ;  but  I  managed  to  miss  it,  and  so 
kept  straight  down  the  Quinnipiac,  as  before  reported.  A  Meriden  tourist 
also  writes :  "  I  recommend  any  one  coming  here  from  New  Haven  to  take 
the  first  road  to  the  r.,  n.  of  Mt.  Carmel,  as  the  route  through  Cheshire  is 
more  indirect  and  sandy.*'  That  route,  with  all  its  faults,  however,  I  have 
found  preferable  to  either  of  the  two  other  paths  that  I  traversed  in  *83  be- 
tween Wallingford  and  New  Haven.  The  chapter  on  "  Winter  Wheeling  ** 
describes  the  road  to  Cheshire,  and  thence  directly  to  New  Britain ;  but  in 
April,  '84,  I  rode  from  New  Haven  to  Meriden,  and  back  again,  by  the 
Cheshire  route,  and  I  tried  it  a  third  time  (Dec.  5,  '84)  as  a  part  of  a  day's 
tour  from  Meriden  to  Bridgeport,  40  m.  From  the  Cheshire  Academy  the 
tourist  should  go  eastward  1}  m.,  northward  along  a  smooth  ridge  }  m.,  follow 
telegraph  poles  around  a  curve  to  1.  and  then  r.,  on  a  down  grade,  to  bridge, 
1}  m. ;  turn  there  to  r.,  and  at  sawmill  turn  1.  and  follow  pleasantly  shaded 
road  along  a  brook  to  pond  (2  m.),  where  he  should  not  cross  bridge  at  I.,  but 
keep  right  on  for  i  m.  to  South  Meriden  (Hanover),  though,  on  the  outskirts 
of  this,  he  will  turn  1.  at  the  road  which  comes  directly  over  the  hill  from  the 
sawmill.  Thence  to  Meriden  is  2  m.,  ridable  without  dismount.  I  was  2  h. 
in  getting  from  Cheshire  to  Meriden,  on  the  first  occasion  (which  was  my  last 


irongh 
iedhj 


better 
ngere. 
Rock, 


:IiwiU 
North 


e),  let 
ctline 
t  East 

raghl 


138  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

8.  of  Berlin ;  but  whoever  turns  1.  at  the  fork,  as  I  prefer  to  do,  should  turn  11 
at  the  next  chance  which  offers.^ 


1  About  the  middle  of  September,  1883,  roads  and  weather  being  favorable,  Dr.  T.  S.  Rost, 
Captain  of  the  Meriden  Wheel  Club,  drove  a  56  in.  wheel  by  this  route  to  New  Britain  and 
Hartford  (about  23  m.)  without  leaving  the  saddle.  On  December  i,  ^83,  William  Collins, 
of  the  same  club  (whose  day's  ride  of  155  m.  from  4his  town  to  Nashua,  N.  H.,  has  been  re- 
corded on  p.  138),  starting  at  5  a.  m.,  reached  Springfield  in  about  6  h.,  and  arrived  home  at  8 
p.  M.,  with  a  record  of  100  m.  shown  by  the  50  in.  cyclometer  which  was  attach^  to  his  5a  in. 
wheel.  A  more  remarkable  day's  run  by  the  same  rider  (May  31,  '84,  4.30  a.  m.  to  8.20  p.  m.) 
extended  &om  the  Grand  Union  Hotel,  42  st.  and  4th  av.,  N.  Y.,  to  Meriden, — ^his  route  being 
through  5th  av.,  Central  av.,  past  Jerome  Park  and  Woodlawn  Cemetery  (near  which  he  made  a 
detour  of  \  m.  in  losing  his  course)  to  Mt  Vernon  and  New  Rochelle, — which  point  he  might 
much  more  readily  have  reached  by  the  shore  road  (p.  73).  He  took  the  direct  pike  from  Milfoid 
to  New  Haven ;  and  the  Dixwell  av.  route  thence  to  Centerville  and  Cheshire.  He  had  lunch 
at  Jerome  Park,  breakfast  at  Mt.  Vernon  (^  h.),  dinner  at  Southport  (z  to  1.30  p.  m.),  reached 
Bridgeport  at  2.30,  and  New  Haven  at  5.30  o'clock.  His  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  was  be- 
tween there  and  Cheshire,  and  his  longest  stretch  without  rest  was  between  Southport  and 
New  Haven.  "The  weather  was  cool  and  pleasant,"  he  writes,  '*  and  the  idea  of  attempting  the 
trip  first  occurred  to  me  when  I  reached  the  hotel,  the  previous  evening,  after  a  ride  to  Hemp- 
stead, L.  I.,  and  back.  I  make  it  a  point,  on  such  long  trips,  to  dismount  at  all  hills,  in  order 
to  save  myself  for  the  finish ;  but  I  think,  if  two  days  were  given  to  the  journey,  the  whole 
distance  from  New  York  to  Meriden  could  be  traversed,  without  a  single  forced  dismount." 

A  ride  of  June  23,  '83,  from  Fair  Haven  to  Ridgefield,  which  adjoins  the  most  northeast- 
erly  town  of  Westchester  county,  N.  Y.,  was  thus  reported  to  me  by  John  H.  Whiting  (b.  Nov.  24, 
1849;  S^^*  Y^c  1^^  School,  1876) :  **  Started  at  3.15  a.  m.,  to  avoid  heat,  and  passed  Savin 
Rock,  Milford,  Stratford,  Bridgeport,  Fairfield,  Southport,  Green's  Farms,  and  Saugatuck  to 
Westport  (35  m.),  at  9  a.  m.  My  first  8  m.,  to  Tyler's  Point,  were  without  dismount ;  the  6  ra. 
thence  to  Milford  required  \  m.  of  walking ;  the  3I  m.  to  Housatonic  river  at  Stratford  required 
perhaps  |  m.  on  foot ;  the  xo  or  11  m.  thence  to  Southport  forced  only  one  dismount ;  and  the  last 
7  m.  to  Westport  made  me  leave  the  saddle  thrice.  Resting  there  \  h.  for  lunch,  I  proceeded  to 
Wilton,  6  m. ;  lost  my  way  there  and  went  nearly  to  Redding;  thence  by  newly-made,  rough 
country  road  to  Branchville,  3  m. ;  and  to  Ridgefield  (4  m.,  mostly  up-hill),  at  1.30  p.  m.,  the 
whole  distance  being  nearly  60  m. ,  though  the  length  of  other  routes  to  New  Haven  is  from  45 
m.  to  50  m.  I  rode  a  50  in.  Harvard,  for  I  believe  in  a  small  wheel,  and  learned  on  a  46  in. 
I  frequently  go  25  m.  or  more  without  any  other  rest  than  is  implied  in  a  brief  stop  for  a  glass  of 
beer,  but  I  rarely  have  time  to  indulge  in  a  straightaway  ride  like  this.'*  The  same  rider  afterwaids 
prepared  for  me  a  statement  which  I  printed  in  the  IVAeeiQaxu  23,  '85),  and  now  reproduce, 
with  slight  verbal  abbreviations,  as  follows  :  "  This  is  to  certify  that  Dr.  N.  P.  Tyler  and  my- 
self left  New  Haven  Nov.  4,  1884,  for  a  run  to  New  York  City  and  return,  but  were  prevented 
by  the  rain  from  going  further  tlian  White  Plains ;  that  we  reached  Bridgeport,  20  m.,  following 
the  shore  road,  in  2  h.  5  rain.,  and  South  Norwalk,  36  m.,  in  exactly  4  h.  Dr.  Tyler  rode  from 
New  Haven  to  the  Saugatuck  river  with  but  two  dismounts,  and  the  distance  between  the  first, 
in  West  Haven,  and  the  second,  beyond  Green's  Farms,  was  25^  m.,  measured  by  both  a  Mc- 
Donnell cyclometer  and  an  Excelsior  cyclometer.  The  absence  of  the  bridge  over  the  Sauga- 
tuck compelled  us  to  cross  by  the  railroad  bridge,  or  we  should  have  reached  South  Norwalk 
without  another  dismount.  We  reached  Stamford,  44  m.,  5I  h.  after  starting.  Wednesday  I 
rode  from  White  Plains  to  Milford,  51  m.,  inside  of  9  h. ;  running  time,  7I  h.  Dated  at  New 
Haven  this  8th  day  of  Nov.,  x884«  John  H.  Whiting.  Subscribed  and  sworn  to  this  8th  day 
of  Nov.,  1884,  at  said  New  Haven,  before  me,  Julius  Twiss,  Notary  Public." 

Dr.  Tyler  himself  adds  the  following  details  :  "  When  we  left  Stamford,  at  2  o*dock,  after 
halting  I  h.  for  dinner,  there  were  dashes  of  rain,  and  the  road  became  heavy.  We  went 
through  Greenwich,  and  then  struck  w.  to  Glenville,  but  were  compelled  to  turn  s.  again  across 


XI. 

SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT.^ 

"  Thames/'  the  historic  name  of  a  more  famous  English  stream,  is  ap- 
plied in  Connecticut  to  nothing  else  than  the  final  section  of  a  river  or  con- 
fluence of  rivers,  stretching  entirely  across  the  State,  from  the   Sound  to 
Massachusetts.    At  Norwich,  the  easterly  branch  takes  the  name  of  Quine- 
baug,  and  the  railroad  for  Worcester  follows  its  general  course,  until  the 
stream  bends  westward  and  finally  disappears  in  little  brooks  of  Hampden 
county  at  Brimfield,  near  the  feeders  of  the  Chicopee  river,  flowing  in  the 
other  direction.     An  easterly  branch  of  the  Quinebaug,  called  French  river, 
similarly  sinks  away  into  the  ponds  of  the  border-towns  of  Worcester  county. 
The  westerly  branch  of  the  Thames  at  Norwich  is  named  Natchaug,  and  its 
westerly  branch,  above  Willimantic,  takes  the  name  of  that  town,  which  name 
afterwards  gives  place  to  Middle  river,  Furnace  brook,  and  Roaring  brook ; 
and  all   three  of  these  feeders  take  rise  on  the  border  of  Massachusetts. 
Mashapaug  Lake,  just  below  the  same  border,  has  an  outlet  called  Bigelow 
river,  which  forms  another  terminus  of  the  Natchaug,  though  shorter  branches 
of  this  are  called  Mt.  Hope  river,  Fenton  river  and  Still  river.    Hop  river,  a 
western  parallel  of  the  Willimantic  branch  of  the  Natchaug,  joins  it  near  that 
town ;  and  from  there  northward  to  Massachusetts  (about  25  m.)  the  Willi- 
mantic river  is  closely  adjoined  by  the  Northern  railroad,  which  also  runs 
alongside  the  west  bank  of  its  outlet,  the  Thames,  for  the  dozen  miles  below 
Norwich.    The  eastern  border  of  the  State  is  nearly  50  m.  long,  and  the  little 
Pawcatuck  river  serves  as  a  boundary  for  the  8  m.  nearest  the  Sound. 
Parallel  to  this  stream,  and  about  a  dozen  miles  west  of  it,  is  the  Thames,  a 
really  noble  sheet  of  water,  whose  scenic  beauties  I  like  to  imagine  as  a 
magnificent  aggregate  of  all  the  lesser  attractions  which  may  characterize  the 
wide-stretching  network  of  littler  rivers  whereof  it  forms  the  confluence  and 
culmination.     Shut  in  by  lofty  hills, — many  of  them  heavily  wooded, — and 
with  occasional  rocky  promontories  or  headlands  projecting  into  its  broad  ex- 
panse, there  is  a  certain  majesty  about  it  which  does  not  attach  to  any  section 
of  its  distinguished  namesake,  though   I  recall  the  placid  beauties  of  the 
English  Thames  as  something  very  dear  to  me. 

I  have  never  attempted  any  inland  wheeling  in  eastern  Connecticut ;  but 
its  map  shows  that  roads  closely  adjoin  all  the  streams  which  I  have  cata- 
logued as  converging  southward  from  the  Massachusetts  border,  so  that  the 
tourist  who  simply  follows  the  current  of  any  one  of  those  streams  will  ad- 


iFrom  Thi  Sfrh%gjiild  WkflnunU  GautU^  June,  18^. 
9 


140         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  public  green  and  on  the  streets."  Considering  that  I  was  then  a  resident 
of  the  city,  in  my  early  bloom  as  a  brown-coated  Freshman  of  Old  Yale,  it 
grieves  me  to  record  my  personal  absence  from  the  green  and  streets,  during 
those  historic  hours.  The  exhibition  could  hardly  have  excited  much  general 
attention,  however,  for  it  was  not  discussed  at  all  among  the  undergraduates ; 
and  if  any  allusion  to  it  was  printed  in  the  city  papers,  I  failed  to  read 
the  same.  It  may  have  happened  during  the  three  weeks*  April  vacation ; 
but,  at  all  events,  nearly  three  years  more  slid  by  before  my  young  blood  was 
first  fired  by  the  magic  name  "  veloss,''  in  the  opening  days  of  1869. 

A  pilgrimage  along  that  primal  path  where  the  pioneer  tourist,  Pierre 
Lallement,  had  hopefully  pushed  the  prototype  of  all  existing  bicycles,  seven- 
teen years  before,  was  a  thing  which  appealed  to  my  historic  sentiment,  as  the 
correct  caper  to  indulge  myself  in.  Accordingly,  I  did  indulge  in  the  pilgrim- 
age, some  months  before  I  saw  the  suggestion  in  the  Wheelman,  or  learned  there 
that  the  ^2,000  for  which  I^allement  finally  managed  to  sell  his  patent  on  "the 
crank  idea,"  formed  the  richest  reward  that  he  ever  reaped  for  his  ingenuity 
in  **  setting  the  world  on  wheels."  Twenty-six  days  had  my  bicycle  rested  in- 
gloriously  in  a  stable,  when  I  dragged  it  out  (July  27,  '83)  to  face  the  fierce 
glare  that  beats  upon  a  New  Haven  sidewalk  in  midsummer,  and  drove  it 
along  the  same,  through  West  Chapel  St.,  past  the  new  Yale  Athletic  Grounds, 
to  the  cross-road  connecting  West  Haven  with  Westville.  The  latter  part  of 
this  distance  (2  m.),  after  leaving  the  sidewalk,  was  most  of  it  too  sandy  for 
riding ;  and  I  halted  just  beyond  here  to  listen  to  a  laughing  negro's  story  of  a 
dog  that  barked  at  me  from  a  distance  and  then  hurriedly  disappeared.  "  I 
saw  dat  ar  dog  run  into  by  a  bicycle  on  Whalley  av.,  a  few  days  ago,"  said 
the  man.  "  He  frew  de  feller  off,  and  den  he  lipt  hom'erds  two  mile  widout 
stoppin*, — ^worse  dan  dem  greyhounds  useter,  down  to  New  Orleans."  Sand 
continues  for  another  \  m.  to  the  toll-gate  (2  o'clock),  where  stone  on  1.  sa3rs 
••  3  m.  to  N.  H."  Thence  the  track  is  generally  ridable  to  the  cross-roads 
(5}  m.  in  I  h.),  near  which  is  an  advertising  plank,  "8  m.  to  N.  H."; — the  de- 
scending road  here,  1.,  leading  to  Milford,  on  the  shore.  The  bridge  over  the 
Naugatuck  river,  just  above  where  it  flows  into  the  Housatonic,  at  Derby,  is 
ij  m.  beyond,  and  by  it  I  cross  into  Birmingham,  and  wheel  to  the  crest  of 
the  hill  on  concrete  sidewalk  on  1. ;  crossing  the  street  there  and  ascending 
another  slope  to  r.,  on  r.  walk,  past  the  soldiers'  monument,  and  so  to  the  s. 
bridge  at  Ansonia,  2  m.  This  is  the  course  where  Pierre  Lallement  "  took 
the  first  regular  header  from  the  first  crank  bicycle  known  to  our  history  " 
(pictured  in  the  Wheelman^  p.  10) ;  and  the  distance  between  the  two  bridges 
may  easily  be  done  in  either  direction  without  a  dismount.  The  more  direct 
road,  which  joins  them  on  the  e.  side  of  the  river,  is  also  said  to  be  ridable. 
My  afternoon's  record,  with  detours  at  each  end  of  the  route,  was  15  m.  I 
tarried  a  day  in  Ansonia,  with  a  lawyer  who  was  my  academy  classmate  twenty 
years  before,  and  whose  character  as  a  wheelman  I  now  first  discovered. 
Stress  of  weather,  however,  prevented  our  making  any  trial  together,  e: 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT.        141 

on  foot,  of  the  vanous  steep  sMewalka  of  smooth  concrete,  where  the  local 
lidets  delight  to  test  their  prowess  as  hill-climbers.  I  had  a  chat  with  a  man 
who  worked  in  the  same  machine-ahop  with  Lallemenl,  during  nearly  all  the 
period  of  his  stay  here  in  1865-66.  He  recalled  him  13  a  pleasant  young  fel- 
low, whose  good-nature  made  him  popular  among  the  other  workmen,  and 
whose  inability  to  use  English,  except  in  fragments  which  he  had  "  broken  " 
to  a  very  Prenchy  manner,  led  them  very  generally  to  call  him  by  the  nick- 
name "  Crapoo."  This  variation  of  "  Johnny  Crapaud  "  was  doubtless  easier 
to  utter  than  "  Lallement " ;  but  the  tact  of  its  being  in  vogue  serves  in  its 
way  to  confirm  the  testimony  of  myinfoimant  that  theutterers  all  looked  upon 
"  Crapoo  "  with  a  sort  of  good-natured  contempt,  as  a  man  of  no  particular 
account.  lie  did  not  impress  them  at  all  as  a  possible  invenlor,  even  pro- 
spectively ;  and  as  for  his  two-wheeled  hobby-horse,  by  whose  contortions 
upon  the  street,  when  working  hours  were  over,  he  caused  them  to  laugh, 
they  never  suspected  that  it  contained  any  idea  worth  patenting,  or  that  he 
himself  thought  he  had  discovered  anything  important  when  he  put  it  to- 
gether. The  Ansonian  tradition  of  Lallement,  if  his  fellow-workman  gave  it 
to  me  truly.  Is  that  of  a  light-hearted  and  intellectually  light- weighted  young 
mechanic,  whose  animal  spirits  found  casual  vent  in  rigging  up  an  amusing 
toy,  10  play  with  upon  the  streets  ;  and  whose  relative  helplessness  (resulting 
from  ignorance  of  the  language  and  customs  of  America)  caused  the  others  to 
treat  him  with  a  certain  kind  indulgence,  as  if  he  were  a  sort  of  sprightly, 
grown-up  child,  who  "wasn't  to  blame  for  being  a  foreigner." 

My  next  day's  ride  of  40  m.  led  up  the  valley  of  the  Naugatuck  to 
Waterbury,  17  m.,  and  thence  northwestward  up  the  hills  to  Litchfield. 
Crossing  the  n.  bridge  of  Ansonia  at  10  o'clock,  I  went  up-hill  to  the  water- 
ing trough,  where  I  turned  r.  and  proceeded  3  m.  to  the  fork,  making  one 
disniouiit  about  midway,  where  I  first  reached  the  river  level.  The  1.  road  at 
the  trough  supplies  a  ridable  surface  back  to  Birmingham.  At  the  fork  I  took 
the  r.,  though  the  1.  would  probably  have  done  as  well,  for  the  two  converge 
in  I  m,  at  the  pond  by  the  church  in  Seymour,  where  I  designed  to  cross  the 
river;  but  as  the  bridge  there,  by  the  Wilbur  House,  was  in  process  of  re- 
pair,  I  mounted  again  and  went  along  the  west  side  of  the  pond,  then  over 
the  north  bridge  and  railroad,  without  stop  tn  the  hill.  I  found  a  little  sand 
at  the  foot  of  the  descent  before  I  reached  the  first  of  the  small  bridges  be- 

■U.    tki.    nnnif     fl  m  1  ■    unil   T  Ik*.,     rn,\t.    i    ti     ..:<l,n.,t    stOp,  Up    a    long   Sandy 

ng  another  stony  hill,  I 
op  of  a  big  hill,  opposite 
rhile  the  "Beacon  Falls 
se  by  E.  Brown,"  with  a 
t  a  distance  on  a  cinder 
ontinuoua  though  gentle 

the  >-  '      >>  sur. 


142  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

face.  Having  disposed  of  dinner  in  f  h.,  I  rode  1 1  m.  to  the  fork  on  the  hill 
and  to  this  point  a  man  might,  by  good  luck,  wheel  without  stop  from  the 
pond,  9  m.  below.  He  might  also  continue  from  this  point  without  stop  to 
the  green  in  Waterbury,  then  w.  across  the  bridge  and  n.  to  the  fork,  5  m. 
I  reached  that  fork  in  i  h.  after  leaving  the  hotel, — having  made  many  stops 
in  changing  from  one  sidewalk  to  the  other,  on  account  of  the  mud  in  the 
street.  Taking  the  I.,  I  passed  the  Oakville  post-office  and  store  (1}  m.)  and 
reached  the  hill  in  Watertown  where  the  churches  stand  (2J  m.)  at  3.30 
o'clock.  Here  I  turned  off  from  the  direct  turnpike  for  Litchfield,  and  went 
up  a  hill  to  I.,  surmounted  by  a  big  summer  hotel,  around  which  I  turned  to 
the  r.,  and  again  at  the  fork  took  the  r.,  past  the  fair  grounds,  to  the 
post  saying  "3J  m.  to  Morris;  3J  m.  to  Watertown."  Just  i  m.  beyond 
this  post,  I  turned  to  r.  and  climbed  nearly  to  the  crest  of  the  hill  at  the 
cross-roads  in  Morris,  3  m.  The  spires  of  Litchfield  soon  came  into  view ; 
and  it  was  not  until  I  had  walked  up  the  last  slopes  of  a  long  hill,  and 
reached  the  level  of  the  village  street,  that  I  enquired  the  route  to  Bantam 
Lake,  and  discovered  that  I  should  have  turned  1.  i  m.  below.  However, 
being  on  the  summit,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  **  see  Litchfield  " ;  and  so  I 
sped  along  the  w.  sidewalk  \  m.  to  the  Mansion  House  (the  opposite  hotel  is 
the  "  United  States  " ;  while  the  "  Lake  View,"  a  larger  and  more  fashionable 
establishment,  is  \  m.  to  the  west),  and  \  m.  beyond,  to  the  end  of  the  North 
street ;  then  back  by  the  e.  sidewalk  to  the  starting-point.  I  rode  down  the 
long  hill,  and  made  the  turn  1.  i  m.  beyond ;  whence  if  m.  of  riding  and 
walking  brought  me  to  the  Bantam  Lake  House  at  7.30  o'clock.^ 


1  The  sun  shone  bright,  that  day,  but  the  air  was  very  cool,  and  a  strong  breeze  from  the 
south  was  generally  a  help  to  me.  The  scenery  along  the  entire  route  was  varied  and  attractive. 
Most  of  the  roads  which  I  traversed  were  probably  at  their  best,  because  of  the  previous  day's 
showers.  The  first  part  of  them,  indeed,  would  hardly  have  been  ridable  except  for  thb ;  and 
when  I  walked  down  the  Litchfield  hill,  two  days  later,  the  sand  seemed  so  deep  that  I  should 
not  have  attempted  to  ride  down,  had  my  wheel  been  with  roe.  From  Waterbury  the  trade 
through  the  Naugatuck  valley  was  said  to  continue  good  as  far  n.  as  Winsted, — say  35  or  30  m. 
Though  I  kept  on  the  e.  bank  from  Seymour  to  Waterbury,  a  road  reaches  from  that  city  down 
the  west  side  of  the  valley  to  Birmingham,  and  thence  to  Stratford ;  but  the  final  section  of 
il  is  reported  sandy  and  unridable, — the  road  through  Derby  and  Milford  supplying  a  preferable 
route  to  the  Sound.  In  Ansonia,  as  I  should  have  remarked  before,  the  favorite  stretch  <rf 
concrete,  for  the  up.grade  trials  of  wheeling,  is  the  sidewalk  of  Foundry  Hill,  beginning  at  the 
self-same  foundry  where  Pierre  Lallement  was  employed,  twenty  yeauv  ago.  There  is  said  to 
be  good  riding  from  Waterbury  to  Bristol  (10  or  la  m.),  thence  to  the  adjoining  town  of  Plain- 
ville,  and  so  to  New  Britain.  Westward  from  Bristol,  the  direct  road  for  Litchfield  (say  15  m. 
or  more)  leads  through  Terrysville,  Thomaston  and  Northfield ;  and  '%  is  said  to  be  ridable.  In 
the  summer  of  '791  l^r.  G.  F.  Fiske,  who  was  then  an  undergraduate  at  Amherst,  toured  from 
New  Haven  to  Poughkeepsie,  by  way  of  Birmingham,  Oxford,  Roxbury  and  New  Milford. 
"  We  had  lots  of  walking  to  this  point,"  he  writes;  "  but  we  thence  rode  straight  across,  over 
Plymouth  mountain,  to  the  Hudson,  and  had  wheeling  most  of  the  way." 

Litchfield  quite  won  my  heart  as  a  type  of  the  quiet,  old-fashioned  and  eminently-respecta- 
ble New  England  tovm  at  its  best  estate.  It  is  well  worth  visiting,  if  only  for  the  sake  fA 
convincing  one's  self  that  such  placid  villages  really  do  exist,  undisturbed  by  the  msh  and  roar 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT, 


143 


Resuming  my  tour  at  5.30  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  August  i,  I  went  to 
the  Litchfield  post-office  (3}  m.  in  |  h.)  by  the  w.  road,  directly  from  Bantam 
Lake  to  the  Shepaug  terminus, — ^the  half-mile  hill  from  there  to  the  post-office 
requiring  considerable  walking.    At  the  end  of  the  sidewalk  of  the  North 
St,  I  took  the  1.  road  for  Goshen  and  made  my  first  dismount  in  3  m.,  at  the 
end  of  a  long  hill ;  then  walked  up  and  rode  down  a  succession  of  soft  and 
sandy  ridges  for  f  m. ;  then  sped  along  the  smooth  clay  surface  for  2\  m.  to 
the  flagpole  in  front  of  the  Goshen  House,  where  I  halted  at  7.30  for  an  hour's 
rest  and  breakfast.    The  latter  half  of  this  final  spin  was  undulating,  but  the 
first  half  afforded  i  m.  of  perfectly  level  riding,  along  the  hill-top,  with  beau- 
tiful views  on  either  hand.'     From  the  hotel  I  faced  eastward  for  1}  m.,  to 
the  crest  of  the  next  parallel  ridge,  along  which  I  rode  northward.    Just  a 
few  rods  above  the  point  of  turning,  a  white  marble  slab  says  to  the  tourist  1 
"  Here  stood  the  Liberty  Pole  in  1776."    Along  the  hard  loam  surface  of  this 
historic  hill-top,  whose  grade  slopes  gradually  upward,  with  one  or  two  quite 
difficult  pitches,  I  sped  along  without  stop  to  the  cross-roads  (z\  m.),  having 
superb  mountain-views  bounding  the  horizon  on  both  sides  of  me  for  the 
entire  distance.    No  stop  was  needed  at  the  cross-roads,  where  the  decline 
began,  nor  indeed  until  I  reached  the  next  up-grade,  i  m.  beyond.    After  this 
I  had  I  m.  of  up-and-down,  through  the  woods,  where  much  walking  was 
needed ;  and  then  i  m.  of  riding,  in  the  open,  and  so  down  a  difficult  slope  to 
a  brook-side  school  house  at  South  Norfolk.    The  next  mile  was  mostly  afoot 
and  up-hill  to  the  cross*roads  sign  "  Goshen  9  m.,  Norfolk  3  m.,  Winsted  8  m." 

of  the  railways,  and  unniffied  by  the  fret  and  bustle  of  "  fashionable  summer-resort  people." 
All  the  residences  seem  to  shelter  well-to-do  owners,  and  almost  none  of  the  residences  seem 
constructed  for  the  purpose  of  proclaiming  the  owner's  wealth.  Many  of  the  houses  exhibit 
above  the  central  doorway  a  date  that  indicates  a  century  or  more  of  history ;  and  it  soothes 
the  nerves  of  the  sentimental  tourist  to  find  such  kindred  spirits  who  are  able  thus  to  take 
pride  in  living  within  the  same  wooden  walls  that  afEorded  comfortable  and  dignified  shelter  to 
the  worthies  of  Washington's  time. 

The  Shepaug  river,  a  branch  of  the  Housatonic,  takes  its  rise  at  Bantam  Lake ;  and  it  gives 
its  name  to  a  little  branch-railway,  which  creeps  along  its  bank  from  the  main  line,  and,  once  in 
a  while,  furtively  sends  a  little  train  to  quietly  put  down  its  paJssengers  at  the  little  terminal 
siatioo  **  behind  the  hill  of  Litchfield."  But  the  placidity  of  that  noble  hill-top  is  not  im- 
paired at  all  by  this  lowly  reminder  of  the  struggling  outside  world.  The  locomotives  of  the 
Shepaug,  whra  not  entirely  disabled  and  out-of-commission,  perfectly  understand  the  pro- 
prieties of  the  place,  and  even  in  their  most  rampant  and  hilarious  moods,  "  roar  you  as  gently 
as  sucking  doves.''    They  are  proud,  too,  of  Bantam  Lake,  as  the  largest  pond  in  Connecticut. 

>  The  village  of  Sharon  is  about  15  m.  due  west  of  Goshen  (Cornwall  being  the  interme- 
diate town),  and  I  presume  that  most  of  the  distance  could  be  ridden,  though  a  mountain  range 
would  have  to  be  crossed ;  and  from  Sharon  a  good  road  extends  w.  through  Amenia  to  Pough- 
keepsie  on  the  Hudson.  A  n.  w.  road  from  Goshen  also  leads  directly  to  South  Canaan  (10  m.) 
and  from  there,  or  from  a  point  s.  of  there,  a  w.  road  leads  to  Lakeville  ($  m.),  whence  to  Sharon 
(about  8  m.)  good  wheeling  may  be  had.  A  road  winds  through  the  mountain-passes  e.  from 
Sooth  Canaan  to  Norfolk  (about  8m.);  and  a  n.  w.  road  from  there  extends  along  the  railway 
and  the  Blackberry  river  to  its  junction  with  the  Housatonic,  in  North  Canaan,  the  border-town 
adjacent  to  Sheffield,  in  Maasacbuaetta. 


144  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

After  crossing  the  railroad  bridge,  I  rode  up  a  long,  sandy  grade,  with  fine 
views  most  of  the  way  (2  m.)>  ^nd  then  passed  through  the  little  park  in 
Norfolk  to  the  ''store"  (i  m.),  at  11.30,  where  I  rested  an  hour  and  munched 
a  lunch,  as  a  hotel  dinner  could  not  be  obtained  until  i  o'clock.  I  had  now 
traveled  21}  m.  from  the  lake ;  and  when  I  dismounted  at  the  Carter  House 
in  New  Hartford,  at  6.30  P.  M.,  my  day's  record  was  38  m.,  but  the  afternoon's 
route  is  not  worthy  of  much  praise.  Between  New  Haven  and  Norfolk  my 
cyclometer  registered  77  m.,  and  I  can  recommend  the  track  to  any  tourist 
who  likes  to  trail  his  wheel  among  the  hill-tops;  but,  from  Norwalk,  he 
ought  to  proceed  n.  w.  to  Sheffield  (say  12  or  15  m.),  where  he  will  meet  the 
excellent  road  leading  northward  through  the  Housatonic  valley  to  Pittsfield 
(say  30  or  35  m.).  My  own  course  from  Norfolk  was  eastward,  however,  and 
I  devoted  i  h.  to  traversing  the  4  m.  which  brought  me  to  the  cross-roads 
post  saying  "  I  m.  to  Colebrook."  A  half-mile  beyond  this  a  heavy  shower 
drove  me  to  take  refuge  in  a  farmer's  shed ;  and  the  track  was  very  muddy 
when  I  started  on,  i  h.  later,  and  plodded  across  hill  after  hill  to  a  fork,  whose 
1.  branch,  marked  "  Hitchcockville,"  would  have  taken  me  to  New  Hartford, 
by  way  of  Riverton  and  Barkhamsted,  whereas  the  r.  branch  did  take  me 
there  more  directly,  by  way  of  Winsted. 

It  should  be  understood  that,  at  this  fork,  I  definitely  turned  backward 
from  my  objective  point  (Springfield),  in  the  hope  of  finding  better  roads 
which  would  render  a  roundabout  route  thither  practically  shorter  than  the 
direct  one.  Otherwise  I  should  have  turned  n.  at  the  previous  cross-roads 
(which  was  only  5  m.  from  Massachusetts),  and  gone  through  the  villages  of 
Colebrook  and  Colebrook  River  to  Tolland ;  thence  e.  through  the  sands  of 
Granville  to  Southwick  and  Feeding  Hills,  or  else  n.  e.  from  Granville  to 
Westfield.  From  there  to  Springfield  (9  or  10  m.,  see  p.  120),  or  from 
Feeding  Hills  to  Springfield  (7  or  8  m.,  see  p.  123),  one  may  ride  without  dis- 
mount. I  probably  should  have  had  fewer  miles  of  walking  or  of  poor  riding 
on  that  unexplored  route  than  on  the  much  longer  one  which  I  did  in  fact 
traverse.  The  distance  backward  from  the  fork  to  Winsted  was  4  m.,  along 
a  winding,  sandy,  southward  descent,  with  an  occasional  short  up-grade.  The 
air  was  sultry  and  sticky,  after  the  shower,  in  contrast  to  its  bracing  quality 
in  the  forenoon ;  and  I  walked  as  much  as  I  rode.  From  a  laurel  arch,  which 
some  firemen  were  erecting  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  I  went  i  m.  on  side- 
walks to  the  post-office ;  whence  the  highway  follows  the  general  line  of  the 
railroad  along  the  Farmington  river.  It  would  probably  all  have  been  ridable 
except  for  the  rain,  and  I  did  in  fact  ride  most  of  it,  though  I  used  i}  h.  in 
covering  the  last  6}  m.,  ending  at  New  Hartford.  The  Carter  House,  there, 
is  a  new  and  clean  one,  in  pleasant  contrast  to  the  other  establishment ;  and 
its  owner  said  that  the  direct  s.  w.  road  through  Torrington  to  Litchfield  (say 
15m.)  supplies  very  good  wheeling. 

The  Farmington  river  (whose  feeders  reach  over  the  line  into  Massa- 
chusetts) after  taking  a  s.  e.  course  for  about  13  m.  from  New  Hartford, 


SHORE  AND-HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT. 


^45 


suddenly  turns  back  to  the  n.  for  a  similar  distance,  running  along  the  w. 
base  of  a  mountain  range  to  Tariffville,  whence  a  s.  e.  course  carries  it  to 
the  Connecticut  at  Windsor.    The  village  which  gives  its  name  to  the  stream 
lies  on  the  outside  (s.)  of  its  remarkable  bend,  and  is  connected  by  good  roads 
with  Hartford  (about  9  m.  n.  e.,  see  p.  137),  as  well  as  with  Plainville  and  New 
Britain.    I  think,  too,  that  the  river-road  is  good  all  the  way  from  New  Hart- 
ford to  Farmington  (CoUinsville  and  Unionville  being  the  intermediate  vil- 
lages), and  that  the  mountain  scenery  of  that  westerly  branch  of  the  V-shaped 
Farmington  valley  must  be  quite  attractive.     The  heavy  morning  mists  hid 
the  hill-tops  from  me,  however,  when  I  started  from  the  hotel  at  6  o'clock, 
and  sped  along  the  sidewalks  i^  m.  to  the  bridge.    Crossing  this,  I  rode  on 
paths  I  m.  and  then  walked  }  m.  through  deep  sand  to  the  second  bridge  and 
cross-roads  where  sign  to  the  r.  says  "  i^  m.  to  CoUinsville;  15  m.  to  Hart- 
ford.*'   I  kept  straight  on,  however,  up  and  down  a  succession  of  short,  sandy 
hills  and  then  along  a  level  stretch  to  Hawks's  tavern  in  Canton,  where  I 
stopped  I  h.  for  breakfast.    The  distance  was  2  m.,  but  the  3  m.  route  by  way 
of  CoUinsville  could  have  been  ridden  more  quickly.    Indeed,  if  I  had  kept 
right  down  the  river  to  Farmington,  and  crossed  thence  to  Hartford,  I  should 
have  reached  Springfield  sooner;  or,  had  I  turned  n.  at  Farmington,  followed  the 
river  up  to  Tariffville,  and  crossed  e.  from  there  to  Windsor  Locks,  my  course 
must  have  proved  faster  than  the  direct  one  actually  chosen ;  and  I  might 
have  reached  this  river-road  at  Avon  by  going  3  m.  directly  e.  from  Canton. 
Instead  of  this,  however^  I  turned  n.  as  soon  as  I  crossed  the  railway,  after 
leaving  the  tavern  at  8.15,  and  took  the  1.  at  the  first  fork.    Getting  around 
the  base  of  the  spur  called  Wilcox  mountain  (the  southernmost  of  the  chain 
which  embraces  Hedgehog  mountain  and  Barndoor  hills  to  the  n.),  I  reached 
the  Farms  Village  post-office,  4}  m.,  in  i  h.,  and  again  made  the  mistake  of 
continuing  northward,  instead  of  striking  eastward  for  Simsbury  and  Tariff- 
ville.    At  the  fork,  by  the  second  stone  house,  2\  m.  on,  where  the  r.  led  to 
the  hamlet  of  Salmon  River,  I  kept  the  1.,  and  quickly  got  into  a  hilly  region 
again.     Soon  after  passing  between  the  Barndoor  hills,  which  mark  the  end 
of  the  Farmington  valley,  I  toak  a  header,  on  a  sandy  descent,  but  suffered  no 
damage.     My  only  other  spill   in  making  this  trail  from  New  London  to 
Springfield  (along  the  coast  to  New  Haven,  and  thence  among  the  hill-tops 
of  northwestern  Connecticut,  185  m.)   was  a  needless  side-fall,  just  before 
reaching  Litchfield ;  though  I  let  my  wheel  drop  once,  in  a  sand  rut,  the  day 
that  I  left  there.     A  heavy  black  cloud  had  been  following  me  for  some  hours, 
when,  just  before  noon,  the  rain  began  to  fall ;  and,  soon  after  that,  18  m.  from 
the  start,  I  turned  r.  and  rode  for  i  m.  along  a  level  ridge,  to  a  cross-roads 
(the  village  of  West  Granby  being  all  the  time  in  sight,  i  m.  to  the  n.),  and 
down  hill  for  \  m. ;  then  s.  and  e.  along  the  plain  till  an  increase  of  the  storm 
drove  me  to  an  hour's  shelter  in  a  shed.    A  little  beyond  this,  where  the 
woods  skirt  the  plain  and  a  sign  says,  *'  3  m.  to  Granby,  s.,"  I  turned  n.,  and 

in  less  than  2  m.  reached  the  house,  at  the  junction  of  five  roads,  which  was 
10 


146  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

once  well-known  as  Viets's  tavern, — situated  just  about  \  m.  inside  the  north- 
ern border  of  the  State  of  Connecticut. 

The  road  due  w.  from  here  leads  over  the  mountains  to  Colebrook,  about 
15  m.,  though  I  had  traversed  33  m.  since  leaving  that  point,  the  previous 
afternoon.  The  s.  e.  road  from  Viets's  leads  to  the  old  copper-mine  on 
Turkey  hill  (3  m.),  which  was  once  a  State's  prison,  and  whose  ruins  are  worth 
visiting.  Ridable  roads  of  red  clay  lead  from  there  e.  to  Suffield  and  n.  to 
West  Suffield ;  and  the  e.  road  from  Viets's  also  leads  through  both  those 
villages,  and  to  the  Connecticut  river  at  Enfield  bridge  or  at  Thompsonville 
ferry.  My  own  course  continued  n.,  however,  nearly  2  m.  without  stop,  spite 
of  the  drizzling  rain,  to  the  cross-roads  just  below  the  Methodist  church  in 
Southwick ;  and  the  next  2  m.  leading  through  the  center  of  the  village  were 
said  to  be  equally  ridable.  The  inscription  on  the  guide-board  was  "  4  m.  w. 
to  Granville ;  9  m.  e.  to  Suffield,"  and  I  rode  e.  for  i  m.  to  the  picnic  grounds 
between  the  ponds,  and  halted  there  at  2  o'clock,  to  get  dinner  in  one  of  the 
booths  where  other  bedraggled  pleasure-seekers  were  taking  shelter  from  the 
storm.  Beyond  here,  at  the  first  fork,  1}  m.,  I  turned  I. ;  1.  also  at  cross-roads, 
1}  m.  later ;  r.  at  the  triangle,  1}  m.,  on  crest  of  hill,  and  1.  at  base  of  it,  where 
sign  says  "  9  m.  to  Springfield."  This  is  the  point  to  which  a  rider  from  that 
city  may  come  without  dismount,  as  mentioned  on  p.  123.  I  went  straight  n. 
to  the  second  cross-roads,  2\  m. ;  then  up  hill,  e.,  to  the  park  in  Feeding  Hills, 
)  m.  (stopping  betimes  to  strap  to  my  handle-bar  an  umbrella  which  had 
dropped  from  some  passing  wagon) ;  then  without  dismount  across  the  plain, 
spite  of  some  up-grades  and  soft  stretches,  to  the  telegraph  poles,  2}  m.,  where 
the  sticky  clay  soon  brought  my  wheel  to  a  standstill,  when  I  turn  r.  to  follow 
them.  I  cross  the  covered  bridge  over  the  Agawam, }  m. ;  pass  the  West 
Springfield  post-office,  \\  m.  ;  scale  the  church  hill,  and  speed  northward  in 
the  sunshine  to  the  finish  at  6  o'clock, — with  a  record  of  39  m.  for  the  12  h., 
and  of  2  m.  for  the  final  \  h.,  the  only  smooth  spin  of  the  entire  day.  I  can- 
not say  that  I  recall  the  day  with  special  pleasure,  or  that  I  think  the  fore- 
noon's roads  will  ever  swarm  with  bicyclers ;  but  as  the  scene  for  a  quiet 
October  ramble  of  a  nature-loving  tourist  a  worse  choice  might  easily  be  made 
than  these  hill-tops  along  the  Farmington  valley. 

A  route  of  70  m.,  from  Poughkeepsie  to  Lee  (which  I  explored  in  making 
the  five  days'  tour  whose  final  day — Lee  to  Springfield — is  described  on  p. 
121),  may  appropriately  be  mentioned  here,  as  it  included  15  m.  of  good 
wheeling  across  the  n.  w.  comer  of  Connecticut.  The  distance  from  the 
Hudson  river  eastward  to  the  border  town,  Amenia,  is  about  25  m.,  through 
a  rolling  country,  most  of  whose  hills  are  ridable — the  longest  of  them  being 
a  short  distance  w.  of  the  village  just  named.  Deep  dust,  the  result  of  a  pro- 
tracted drought,  covered  the  surface  of  most  of  the  roadway  when  I  wheeled 
from  Poughkeepsie  to  the  hotel  in  Pleasant  Valley  (7  m.  in  ij  h.),  at  3.30 
o'clock,  that  Sunday  afternoon.  An  hour  later,  at  Washington  Hollow  (5  m.), 
having  delayed  somewhat  to  converse  with  a  local  rider  who  accompanied  me. 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT. 


147 


I  turned  r.  at  hotel  to  the  -watering-trough  and  toll-gate;  and  at  the  fork 
where  stands  the  big  tree, }  in.  beyond,  I  obeyed  the  sign  which  pointed  to  the 
Sharon  pike.  Pratt's  hotel  in  Amenia,  where  I  spent  the  night,  is  10  or  12  m. 
from  this  point;  and  there  I  found  all  the  people  shivering,  and  bewailing  the 
chilliness  which  had  been  increasing  all  the  afternoon,  until  now,  at  7  o'clock, 
the  air  seemed  almost  frosty.  The  contrast  between  this  and  the  "  heated 
term,"  so  prolonged  and  intense,  which  had  not  really  ended  when  I  began  my 
tour,  two  days  before,  was  most  extraordinary,  and  I  was  glad  to  assume  my 
jacket  before  going  in  to  supper.  During  this  final  hour,  the  hands  of  my 
Butcher  cyclometer  (which  had  registered  all  the  revolutions  of  my  **  234,  jr.," 
and  whose  accuracy  I  had  not  previously  questioned)  "stuck"  at  the  i,oooth 
m.-point,  and  then  jumped  backwards  a  little.  During  the  forenoon's  ride, 
from  Newbarg  to  Poughkeepsie,  it  had  recorded  only  i6|  m.,  as  against  the 
19  m.  shown  by  the  "  Ritchie "  of  my  comrade,  whose  familiarity  with  the 
road  made  him  confident  of  the  distance.  So  I  estimated  my  travel  that  day 
as  44  m.,  though  the  record  gave  but  38  m.  On  the  following  day,  the  "  thou- 
sands "  dial  of  my  cyclometer  remained  at  zero,  ui^til  the  "  mile-pointer"  had 
revolved  four  times,  and  then  it  began  to  count  again  regularly  with  that 
pointer,  "  1,001,"  "  1,002,"  and  so  on.  I  found  that  the  registry  fell  some- 
what short  of  the  truth,  however ;  and  the  makers  soon  replaced  the  instru- 
ment by  a  newer  one. 

The  weather  of  that  next  day  (Sept.  15,  '84)  was  of  an  ideal  sort  for  rid- 
ing, and  I  covered  about  46  m.  (9  a.  m.  to  6  P.  M.),  though  my  cyclometer 
registered  some  7  m.  less.  I  took  the  1.  at  the  fork,  2\  m.  e.  of  the  hotel ; 
and,  after  crossing  a  brook,  i^  m.  beyond,  I  observed  on  the  r.  a  small  marble 
monument,  inscribed  "  N.  Y."  and  '*  Conn.,"  marking  the  boundary  between 
the  States  ;  and  on  the  1.  a  red  brick  house,  which  doubtless  "  stands  on  the 
line."  About  \\  m.  e.  is  the  village  of  Sharon,  where  I  turned  n.,  and  con- 
tinued along  a  succession  of  hills  of  hard-surface  to  Lakeville  (7  m.),  stopping 
to  view  its  pretty  pond  and  wide  surrounding  stretch  of  country,  before  de- 
scending to  the  village.  Thence  1}  m.  to  the  Maple  Shade  Hotel,  in  Salisbury, 
at  1 1. 15,  and  a  halt  of  \\  h.  for  dinner.  At  the  fork,  just  beyond  here,  the  r. 
leads  through  the  mountains  to  Twin  Lakes  station  and  East  Canaan,  6  m. ;  and 
at  Sharon  I  might  also '  have  taken  a  similarly  hilly  course  to  reach  the  river- 
road  and  railway  along  the  Housatonic,  either  at  West  Cornwall  (n.  e.),  or  at 
Cornwall  Bridge  (s.e.),  about  8  or  9  m.in  each  case  (see  p.  143).  After  dinner, 
however,  I  kept  straight  to  the  n.,  having  the  Taghconic  range  of  mountains, 
with  peaks  2,000  and  2,600  ft.  high,  towering  closely  upon  my  1. ;  and  in  }  h. 
(5  m.)  I  entered  Massachusetts,  a  few  rods  beyond  the.  little  bridge  at  Sage's 
ravine.  About  3  m.  further  on,  opposite  "  the  Dome,"  where  the  mountains 
seem  to  end,  or  bear  off  to  the  1.,  a  road  turns  r.  to  Sheffield  (2  m.,  see  p.  143) ; 
and  a  similar  r.  road,  perhaps  i  m.  beyond,  leads  quickly  to  the  field  of  the  fight 
in  Shays's  Rebellion  (1787),  which  field  is  beside  a  brook  about  midway  be- 
tween two  school-houses ;  but  I  did  not  turn  at  either  place,  and  so  reached 


148  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

South  Egremont  at  3  p.  M.,  8  m.  after  entering  the  State.  A  smooth  ride  of  \ 
h.  {4m.)»took  me  thence  to  the  Berkshire  House,  in  Great  Barrington,  where  a 
big  boy  on  a  bicycle  told  me  to  turn  up-hill,  1.,  at  the  fork,  instead  of  taking  the 
bridge  at  the  r.  and  wheeling  through  the  flat  directly  to  Evergreen  mountain, 
where  he  said  I  should  have  to  walk  before  descending  to  Stockbridge.  He 
had  gone  there  without  stop  by  the  other  route,  he  said, — ^the  chief  obstacle 
being  the  hill  at  the  start.  Having  managed  to  crawl  up  this,  I  continued 
without  stop  along  the  height  overlooking  the  river  to  Van  Deusenville  (say 
2  m.),  where  I  turned  r.,  and  then,  after  crossing  the  railway,  mistakenly  kept 
straight  on  for  i  m.,  till  I  met  the  direct  road  from  Great  Barrington,  near  the 
foot  of  the  ascent  by  Evergreen  mountain.  My  cyclometer  ceased  to  register 
during  the  ^  or  |  m.  that  I  walked  up  this ;  and  1  then  had  smooth  riding  to 
Stockbridge,  say  2  m.  Thence  beside  the  river  through  South  Lee  and  to  East 
Lee  (5  m.)  there  was  no  need  of  a  stop ;  but,  at  the  latter  point,  I  turned 
backwards,  to  the  r.,  and  sped  along  the  concrete  sidewalk  }  m.  to  the  Morgan 
House  in  Lee,  where  I  spent  the  night.  The  recommended  route  which  I 
failed  to  follow,  after  cros^ng  the  track  at  Van  Deusenville,  turns  1.  there  and 
keeps  close  along  the  river  and  the  railway,  through  Housatonic  and  Glen- 
dale,  to  Stockbridge,  perhaps  4  m.  I  was  told  that  the  road  up  the  river  from 
Lee  to  Lenox  Furnace,  New  Lenox  and  Pittsfleld  continued  good ;  and  the 
direct  route  connecting  the  latter  town  with  Stockbridge  (10  or  12  m.,  with 
the  village  of  Lenox  half-way  between,)  was  called  excellent.  I  believe  that 
a  ridable  road  extends  to  the  mountain  at  West  Stockbridge;  but  beyond 
there  a  bicycler  would  doubtless  be  forced  to  do  much  walking  among  the 
hills,  before  reaching  Canaan  Four  Corners,  about  8  m.  n.  w.  The  road  from 
there  to  the  Hudson  river  (25  m.  or  more)  has  been  wheeled  without  a  stop.^ 

1  By  a  Bro6kl]rn  schoolboy,  C.  C.  Woolworth,  jr.,  July  37,  '83,  at  which  time  he  was  only 
16  years  old.  "  Starting  at  6  in  the  morning  from  Canaan  Four  Comers,  where  I  spent  most 
of  the  summer,  I  reached  my  lather's  paper-null,  beyond  the  village  of  Casdeton,  in  just  about 
4  h.  Roads  fine ;  weather  cool,  and  air  free  from  moisture.  I  coasted  down  from  the  Hubbaid 
House,  conquered  the  next  hill  for  the  first  time,  and  turned  L  along  the  level  to  £.  Chatham. 
The  country  between  there  and  Chatham  is  rolling,  with  one  big  hill ;  roads  thence  to  Valencia 
and  Kinderhook  are  mostly  smooth  and  level.  From  K.  I  rode  n.  to  Castleton  along  the  ridge 
{\  of  this  is  good  and  \  is  rutty),  and  in  descending  to  the  river  road  I  took  a  header,  by  let- 
ting my  so>in.  Columbia  strike  some  loose  stones.  I  also  stopped  near  C.  to  reset  tire  of  rear 
wheel  These  halts  were  made  within  less  than  3  m.  of  my  journey's  end,  and  I'm  sure  I'd 
previously  ridden  at  least  25  m.  without  dismount,  though  I  had  no  cyclometer.  When  I  fin- 
ished, at  the  mill,  I  felt  a  trifle  weak  in  the  legs,  but  was  all  right  again  in  ^  h.  or  so." 

I  have  been  greatly  helped  in  preparing  this  chapter  by  Beers's  new  map  of  Connecticut, 
(published  1884,  revised  1885,  scale  s^m.  to  x  in.,  price  $6),  which  ought  to  be  hung  on  the  wall 
of  every  bicyclers'  club>rooQi  in  the  State.  It  measures  4  by  3  ft.,  but  the  dissected  edition  for 
carriage  use,  is  folded  into  a  cloth  case,  t  ft  square,  and  consists  of  a  doten  sections  of  that 
size,  all  connected  by  a  muslin  backing.  The  townships  are  separately  tinted,  the  county  lines  are 
shown  in  red,  an  index  of  900  references  makes  each  locality  accessible,  and  (he  population  of 
each  town  in  1870-80,  arranged  by  senatorial  districts,  is  printed  upon  the  maigin.  The  whole 
of  Westchester  county  is  included,  and  the  n.  shore  of  Long  Island.  Connecticut  has  eight 
counties,  half  of  them  along  the  shore,  and  the  other  half  along  the  line  of  Massachusetts;  and 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT. 


149 


the  pubKshen  intend  to  issue,  in  1886,  a  paper  edition  of  their  map,  in  three  sections  (50  c.  to 
75  c  each).    The  western  section  will  give  Litchfield  and  Fairfield  (with  the  adjacent  West- 
chester,— an  excellent  map  for  New  Yorkers) ;  the  central  section  will  give  New  Haven  and 
Biiddlesex,  on  the  shore,  and  Hartford  adjoining  them  on  the  n. ;    while  the  eastern  section  will 
include  New  London,  Tolland  and  Windham.    Elaborate  atlases  for  all  these  counties  eicoept  the 
two  last  named  have  been  issued  by  the  same  publishers,  as  described  on  p.  99 ;    but  their  price 
is  prohibitory  to  bicyders,  unless  in  the  case  of  clubs.      Most  of  Beers's  atlases,  indeed,  are  out 
xA  the  market ;    and  [  catalogue  them  because,  having  been  published  by  subscription,  copies 
may  presumably  be  consulted  in  many  of  the  local  libraries  and  hotels.    G.  H.  Adams  ft  Son, 
59  Beekman  St.,  N.  Y.,  issue  a  map  of  Conn.  (1874,  36  by  z8  in.,  6  m.  to  i  in.,  \  oz.,  50  c), 
which  includes  a  good  part  of  R.  L,  N.  Y.  e.  of  the  Hudson  and  the  whole  of  L.  I.,--thoiigh 
only  a  few  of  the  main  roads  are  shown.    A  much  more  carefully-prepared  map  of  the  State 
(revised  1884,  28  by  19  in.,  5  m.  to  z  in.,  75  c),  giving  a  minute  but  tolerably  dear  showing  of  all 
the  roads,  is  issued  by  the  Coltons,  rSa  William  st.,  who  also  have  a  smaller  one,  18  by  14  in.,  50  c. 
Connecticut's  most  persistent  road-rider  is  probably  Dr.  N.  P.  Tyler  (b.  Oct.  11,  1848),  a 
graduate  of  Yale  in  '76,  and  League  consul  at  New  Haven  until  he  removed  thence  to  Jersey 
City,  in  July,  1885,  with  a  four  years'  record  of  about  14,000  m.,  whereof  a  summary  will  be 
presented  in  a  later  chapter.     His  first  long  run  (107  ro.  inside  of  19  h.,  with  only  about  la  m.  of 
repetitions ;    recorded  briefly  in  Hazlett's  "  Summary  "  :   OtUing^  Feb.,  1884,  p.  373)  was  thus 
reported  to  me  :  **  The  roads  being  in  good  condition,  and  fine  weather  having  prevailed  for 
several  days,  with  n.  w.  wind,  I  took  train  northward  and  reached  the  rooms  of  the  Springfield 
Bicycle  Club  at  10.30  p.  m.    Two  members  thereof  dedded  to  accompany  me,  in  attempting  a 
xoo^n.  run ;   and,  having  finished  supper,  we  started  at  1.15  a.  m.  (Nov.  17,  '83),  with  bright 
moonlight,  very  little  wind,  and  thermometer  showing  24^.     Found  fair  wheeling  to  Westfidd, 
9}m.,  and  there  struck  s.  e.  for  the  turnpike  to  Hartford,  and  got  lost  in  a  desert  of  sand; 
scrambled  up  a  fifty-foot  embankment  of  the  Canal  railway,  and  followed  its  tracks  z  or  2  m.  to 
a  cross-roads,  where  I  dropped  wheel  and  broke  handle-bar,  which  mishap  enforced  a  return  to 
the  dty ;  so  we  reached  our  former  track  in  6^  m.  (z6),  and  Springfield  again  in  8  m.  (24),  where 
I  turned  off  2^  m.  more  (26^)  before  getting  a  new  handle-bar  fitted.    Then  at  8.30,  I  started  on 
alone,  down  the  e.  side  of  the  river,  against  a  strong  s.  w.  wind,  which  made  progress  difficult ; 
and  at  East  Hartford  I  had  to  retrace  my  course  about  z  m.,  before  crossing  into  the  city,  28^  m« 
(55),  where  I  dined.     Proceeding  then  1}  m.  towards  Berlin  I  retraced  my  course  to  Hartford  (58), 
in  order  to  go  to  Farroington,  zo  m.  (68) ;    and  I  found  the  road  thither  was  partly  very  fine  and 
partly  very  poor ;  but  thence  to  New  Britain,  6^  m.  (74I),  Berlin,  4|m.  (79),  Meriden,  8  m.  (87), 
and  Wallingford,  6^  m.  (93^),  the  roads  were  all  good.    Ruts  and  sand  were  encountered  between 
there  and  the  axle  works  in  Centerville,  and  darkness  meanwhile  settled  down ;    but  the  track 
was  good  thence  to  Dixwell  av.,  where  I  was  met  by  a  wheelman  who  escorted  me  in  to  the 
finish  at  New  Haven,  Z3}m.  (107)  at '7.55  o'clock.     I  was  pretty  tired  and  one  knee  ached, 
(hough  I  think  thb  resulted  from  the  extra  exertion  required  in  fighting  the  wind,  which  at  times 
was  aknoBt  a  gale.    During  th^  next  day  I  wheeled  15^  m.,  in  znakii^  my  usual  professional  calls ; 
and  then,  at  zz  p.  m.,  accepted  an  invitation  to  take  a  moonlight  ride  with  W.  C.  Palmer,  whose 
expected  companion  on  a  loo-m.  run  to  Springfield  had  failed  to  join  him.    With  a  full  moon  aiul 
good  roads  to  favor  us,  we  went  about  z  m.  beyond  Branford  \   back  to  East  Haven  ;  down  by 
the  ]ight-4iouae ;    up  along  the  shore  ;    through  Fair  Haven  to  Montowese  and  back  to  New 
Haven,  39^  m.     Halting  ^h.  to  indulge  in  some  porter-house  steaks,  we  wheeled  i}m.  beyond 
West  Haven ;  then  bock  to  the  dty ;  then  4^  m.  towards  Woodbridge  and  back  a^in ;  then  2I 
m.  about  the  dty ;    then  to  Whitney  Lake  and  back,  a  totid  of  36^  m.,  making  56  m.  for  the 
whole  ride.      It  was  now  just  6  a.  m.,  and  as  my  knee  began  to  be  painful  again,  I  abandoned 
the  idea  of  a  second   zoo-m.  run,  though  I  made  my  usual  calls  during  the  day.     Within  an 
interval  of  52I  h.,  therefore,  I  had  wheeled  178  m.,  measured  by  McDonnell  cyclometer ;    which 
was  pctliaps  a  fair  record,  considering  that  I  used  a  heavy  Expert  Columbia,  and  had  bad  roads 
and  winds  to  contend  with  on  the  first  day." 


XII. 
LONG  ISLAND  AND  STATEN  ISLAND.^ 

As  fate  compelled  me  to  be  in  New  London,  on  the  7th  of  July,  1880,  I 
thought  I  might  as  well  take  my  wheel  along  with  me  on  the  boat,  cross  with 
it  to  Greenport  by  next  morning's  steamer,  and  thence  drive  home  again 
through  Long  Island,  over  the  roads  which  a  resident  wheelman  whom  I  met 
at  the  Newport  convention  had  assured  me  were  good  ones.  From  Green- 
port  one  may  ride  s.  and  w.to  the  hotel  in  Mattituck,  12  m.,  without  dismount, 
though  a  stop  is  apt  to  be  caused  by  the  sand  of  a  short  hill,  about  2  m. 
before  reaching  there.  At  a  little  ways  below  the  hotel  in  Southold,  5}  m. 
from  Greenport,  the  road  divides,  but  the  two  branches  soon  join  again,  and 
the  r.  one  should  be  taken  rather  than  the  road  going  straight  up  the  hilL  In 
front  of  the  hotel  at  Mattituck  a  turn  is  made  to  the  1.,  and  sandy  stretches 
of  road  are  soon  met  with.  The  hotel  in  Riverhead  is  ^  m.  further  on,  and 
it  took  me  nearly  2  h.  to  get  there,  though  not  much  walking  was  required. 

On  the  following  morning  I  went  by  train  to  Yaphank,  perhaps  15  m. 
beyond,  for  I  was  told  that  deep  sand  prevailed  for  about  that  distance. 
Mounting  there  at  9  o'clock,  I  rode  across  the  plain  in  a  southerly  direction 
for  rather  more  than  2  m.,  then  turned  to  the  right  just  beyond  a  hotel,  and 
went  through  Brookhaven  to  Bellport  (4  m.),  Patchogue  (3  m.),  and  Sayville 
(4^  m.),  where  an  hour's  stop  was  made  for  dinner.  For  the  next  9  m.,  ending 
at  the  bridge  in  Islip,  the  sidewalk  was  generally  adhered  to ;  also  for  another 
mile,  ending  at  Bayside  post-office.  The  hotel  in  Babylon,  the  largest  town 
met  with  on  that  day,  is  4}  m.  beyond.  Amityville,  the  next  place,  is  about 
5  m.  away,  though  I  rode  more  than  6  m.  to  reach  it,  by  reason  of  a  detour 
along  a  meadow  road  to  the  water  side,  in  order  to  take  a  swim.  Distance 
from  Yaphank  by  the  cyclometer,  34}  m. 

Had  I  designed  to  go  directly  to  New  York,  I  should  probably  have 
started  for  South  Oyster  Bay  and  Hempstead  on  the  morning  of  the  loth,  after 
my  all-night's  struggle  with  the  flies  and  mosquitoes  of  the  hotel  in  Amityville. 
Instead  of  this,  I  turned  northward  and  rode  to  Farmingdale,  5  m. ;  Pine 
Grove  Hotel,  2|  m. ;  Woodbury  station,  5^  m. ;  and  Cold  Spring  Harbor, 
3  m.  I  really  traveled  nearly  20  m.  that  hot  Saturday  morning,  however,  for 
I  was  obliged  to  return  to  Farmingdale  from  a  point  about  2  m.  beyond,  in 
pursuit  of  my  pocket-book,  which  I  had  carelessly  laid  down  on  the  counter 
of  a  youthful  "  dealer  in  fruit  and  root  beer."  I  found  that  he  had  closed  his 
shop  and  harnessed  up  a  horse  wherewith  to  pursue  me  and  restore  the  prop* 

1  From  Tlu  Bkyclmg  Worlds  Nov.  36,  1880,  p.  37. 


LONG  ISLAND  AND  STATEN  ISLAND. 


151 


erty ;  but  he  not  only  declined  to  accept  any  reward  for  his  trouble  in  doing 
this,  but  actually  refused  to  let  me  pay  for  the  beer  which  I  dri^nk  to  satisfy 
the  thirst  aroused  by  my  rapid  return.  From  the  hotel  in  Cold  Spring  Har- 
bor one  may  ride  southward  i  m.  to  the  Episcopal  church,  and  then  he  must 
walk  up-hill  nearly  as  far.  About  2  m.  further  on  he  crosses  the  railroad 
track  at  Syosset  station,  }  m.  beyond  which  is  the  Jericho  turnpike,  and  this 
must  be  taken  to  the  r.  Some  very  smooth  stretches  of  road  are  to  be  found 
in  the  z\  m.  ending  here,  and  the  similar  distance  intervening  between  here 
and  the  hotel  in  Jericho  is  nearly  all  ridable. 

From  Jericho  to  Jamaica  the  turnpike  is  excellent,  and  no  stop  is  neces- 
sary unless  caused  by  the  sand  near  the  top  of  a  double  hill,  5  m.  from  the  start, 
though  the  cobble-stones  in  front  of  the  toll-gates  need  careful  attention.  My 
cyclometer  made  the  whole  distance  1 5  m.,  though  when  I  returned  over  the 
same  track,  on  the  last  day  of  the  month,  it  registered  only  13^  m.  (On  this 
second  occasion  I  dismounted  only  once — at  the  solitary  brick  house  which 
shelters  a  beer  saloon  near  the  railway  crossing  in  Mineola,  6  m.  from  Jericho. 
The  road  here  is  hard  and  level,  but  I  wanted  something  to  drink.)  A  plank 
road  begins  at  the  East  Jamaica  Hotel,  and  extends  i^  m.  to  the  village 
proper,  though  the  unplanked  track  beside  it  is  generally  preferable.  Pas- 
sage through  the  village  can  best  be  made  on  the  r.  sidewalk  for  1}  m.,  to  the 
Hoffman  Boulevard,  which  branches  to  the  r.  and  leads  to  Newtown,  6  m. ; 
whence  I  proceeded  to  Hunter's  Point,  where  my  cyclometer's  record  for  the 
day  was  35  m.,  and  for  the  whole  distance  between  Greenport  and  New  York, 
13X  m.,  including  22  m.  in  the  neighborhood  of  Cold  Spring. 

The  roads  of  Long  Island,  as  above  described,  average  considerably 
better  than  those  between  New  York,  New  Haven,  Springfield,  and  Bos- 
ton. The  worst  impediment  of  the  whole  journey  was  a  half-mile  stretch  of 
sand  near  Woodbury  station.  Except  in  this  case,  I  do  not  think  I  walked 
for  as  much  as  ^  m.  at  a  time  in  the  120  m.  registered  between  Greenport  and 
Jamaica.  The  Woodbury  sand,  moreover,  would  be  avoided  by  a  rider  who 
went  direct  from  Farmingdale  to  the  Jericho  turnpike ;  and  perhaps  the  other 
route  from  Amitjrville  to  Hempstead  might  be  found  even  more  attractive. 
From  Cold  Spring  Harbor,  a  pleasant  5  m.  ride  may  be  taken  to  Columbia 
Grove  Hotel  on  Lloyd's  Neck,  though  a  short  walk  will  be  needed  just  before 
reaching  the  hotel.  Beyond  this  the  shaded  road  through  the  grove  is  smooth 
for  at  least  i  m.,  and  perhaps  for  2  m.  or  more.  Returning,  a  good  road  leads 
to  Huntington  and  thence  back  to  Cold  Spring,  the  last  3  m.  being  down- 
grade  and  requiring  no  dismount.  From  Huntington  I  went  to  Centerport 
and  Northport,  5  m.,  but  I  cannot  say  much  in  praise  of  the  roads. 

Returning  from  Cold  Spring  to  New  York,  August  3,  I  determined,  for 
variety's  sake,  to  explore  the  north-side  road,  though  knowing  perfectly  well 
that  it  would  not  be  found  equal  to  the  Jericho  turnpike.  The  path  chosen 
led  through  Oyster  Bay,  4  n\. ;  Norwich,  2\  m. ;  Roslyn,  6|  m. ;  hotel  on  hill 
at  Manhassett,  3  m. ;  ma'cadam  at  Little  Neck,  2\  m.    I  was  7  h.  in  reaching 


152  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

this  point,  including  stops  of  2  h. ;  for  a  good  deal  of  walking  had  to  be  done, 
up-hill  and  through  sand,  even  before  a  heavy  rain  drenched  me  through  and 
put  the  roads  at  their  worst.  For  6  m.,  however,  through  Flushing  and  to 
Harry  Hill's  hotel,  about  x  m.  beyond  the  bridge,  the  macadam  was  almost 
perfect  and  was  little  injured  by  the  storm,  save  where  the  sand  had  washed 
over  it.  I  made  the  distance  without  dismount,  and  was  favored  with  a  con- 
tinuous shower  bath  all  the  while,  J  h.  From  Harry  Hill's  to  Astoria  ferry— 
a  distance  of  3  m.,  which  I  increased  by  an  unlucky  detour  to  4 —  I  stolidly 
shoved  my  "  bath  tub  "  through  the  deep  mud,  and  made  no  attempt  to  ride 
until  the  flagged  sidewalks  were  reached.  I  should  judge  that  the  road-bed 
even  when  dry  would  be  barely  ridable,  though  it  might  be  reached  by  a 
cross-cut  from  the  excellent  track  which  skirts  the  shore  for  i  m.  or  so  above 
Astoria.    Length  of  day's  journey,  28  m. 

The  tour  of  Long  Island  I  think  can  be  safely  recommended  as  a  pleas- 
ant one  for  the  wheelman,  though  he  had  best  ride  in  the  cars  between  New 
York  and  Jamaica,  as  well  as  between  Yaphank  and  Riverhead.  If  he  does 
this  he  may  easily  get  over  the  remaining  90  m.  in  two  days  ;  and  of  course 
an  expert  may  readily  do  it  in  one.  Probably  the  best  single  stretches  on  the 
island  are  those  from  Jamaica  to  Jericho,  15m.;  from  Mattituck  to  Green- 
port,  12m.;  and  from  Flushing  to  Little  Neck,  6  m.  The  latter  case  of  un- 
usually smooth  macadam  seems  to  be  the  only  exception  to  the  rule  that  the 
north-side  roads  are  more  hilly,  sandy,  and  unattractive  than  those  of  the 
center  and  south  side. 

*A  year  later  (Sept.' 4,  *8i),  I  took  steamer  for  Flushing,  and,  mounting 
there  at  noon,  was  just  i  h.  in  getting  to  Snell's  hotel  at  Little  Neck,  about 
5}  m.  This  stretch  of  macadam,  which  is  6  m.  long,  and  which  in  1880  I 
found  in  perfect  condition,  was  in  poor  order  in  many  places  on  account  of 
ruts  and  sand.  After  dinner  I  went  across  country  by  a  somewhat  winding, 
but  for  the  most  part  ridable,  clay  road,  till  I  struck  the  Jericho  turnpike  near 
the  Hinsdale  station,  3}  m.,  in  a  little  less  than  i  h.  Up  the  turnpike  I  went 
at  speed  for  perhaps  2  m.  or  more  to  the  cross  roads  beyond  the  asylum, 
where  I  turned  towards  Garden  City,  reaching  Stewart's  Cathedral  at  3.50 
p.  M.  Forty  minutes  later  I  was  3  m.  further,  at  Greenfield  Cemetery,  beyond 
Hempstead.  Another  similar  period  of  time  and  space  brought  me  to  the 
flag-pole  in  Merrick.  At  5.30  P.  m.,  while  still  in  the  same  town,  I  reached 
the  south-shore  road,  and  an  hour  later  South  Oyster  Bay,  5  m.  Then  a  half- 
hour's  sidewalk  business  in  the  dust,  3  m.,  to  the  Douglass  Hotel  in  Amity- 
ville,  at  7  P.  M.,  making  29  m.  for  the  afternoon.  This  route  between  the 
Jericho  turnpike  and  the  hotel  had  not  been  tried  by  me  before,  and  I  do  not 
recommend  it,  for^  think  it  inferior  to  the  Hicksville-Farmingdale  route. 

Starting  next ''morning  at  6.15, 1  rode  to  Babylon  (5J  m.,  50  min.),  and 
stopped   an  hour  for  breakfast.    Then  through  Bay  Shore,  Islip,   Sayville, 


iFrom  Tht  BkycUng  WoHd,  July  28,  i88a,  p.  463. 


LONG  ISLAND  AND  STA  TEN  ISLAND, 


153 


Patchogue,  and  Bellport  to  Brookhaven  at  145  p.  m.,  25  m.  of  smooth  and  pleas- 
ant riding.  Thence  away  from  the  shore  to  Yaphank,  in  whose  vicinity  I 
made  several  detours,  ending  at  the  railroad  station  at  5.30  p.  m.,  with  a  day's 
record  of  \i\  m.  Starting  from  the  same  station  at  four  o'clock  of  the  follow- 
ing afternoon, — the  afternoon  of  "  the  yellow  day," — I  rode  backwards  14  m. 
to  Sayville,  finishing  there  in  the  moonlight  at  7.30  p.  M.  Between  whiles  I 
had  gone  by  train  to  Greenport,  with  the  idea  of  there  striking  a  boat  which 
would  take  me  across  the  Sound  to  see  the  Centennial  Celebration  at  New 
London  and  Groton.  Disappointed  in  this,  I  sat  on  the  shore  during  the  fore- 
noon, peering  into  the  queer  yellow  mist  which  obscured  a  pinkish  sun,  and 
listening  to  the  cannon  shots  which  rolled  across  the  water  from  the  far-off 
celebration.  Then  I  took  train  back  to  Yaphank,  and  mounted  as  aforesaid 
for  a  three  hours'  ride  in  the  blazing  hot  air. 

Starting  from  Sayville  at  6  on  Wednesday  morning,  and  stopping  an  hour 
for  breakfast  at  Babylon,  I  kept  along  the  familiar  south-shore  road  to 
Amity\'ille  just  20  m. ;  then  turned  off  to  the  r.  for  Farmingdale,  4im.;  there 
made  another  turn  1.  for  John  Noon's ;  then  a  turn  to  the  r.  and  a  ride  across 
the  plain  to  Hicksville,  5}  m.,  at  1.50  p.  m.  Stopping  there  \  h.  for  dinner  at 
the  Grand  Central  Hotel,  a  ride  of  20  min.  took  me  to  the  hotel  in  Jericho, 
2}  m.  The  turnpike  thence  to  Jamaica  (about  15  m.)  is  usually  excellent, 
hardly  requiring  a  dismount;  but  on  this  occasion,  by  reason  of  the  long 
absence  of  rain,  the  first  part  of  it  was  quite  soft  and  dusty.  Hence  it  was 
not  until  4.20  that  I  reached  the  brick  beer  saloon  beyond  the  railroad  cross- 
ing, not  far  from  Mineola, — a  6  m.  ride  and  walk.  Thence  I  rode  without 
stop  to  Hinsdale,  exactly  4  m.,  in  exactly  \  h., — this  being  my  longest,  swiftest^ 
and  hottest  spin  of  the  entire  day.  Then  I  turned  into  the  cross  road  towards 
Little  Neck,  and  made  my  first  stop  in  ^  h.  at  a  well  about  2  m.  on,  where  I 
learned  that  no  trains  were  running  between  Little  Neck  and  Flushing,  on 
account  of  financial  troubles.  Thus  my  plan  of  taking  the  cars  at  the  former 
place  was  blasted,  and  I  was  not  sure  that  any  train  went  in  to  the  city  from 
Flushing  later  than  7  o'clock.  So  from  Little  Neck  I  speeded  desperately 
along  to  catch  that  train,  risking  my  own  little  neck  among  the  ruts  in  the 
gathering  twilight.  At  last  I  despairingly  took  to  walking  and  running,  and 
was  favored  with  the  whistle  of  the  departing  train  when  I  got  within 
twenty  rods  of  the  station.  However,  another  train  left  at  eight  o'clock, 
and  took  me  and  my  wheel  with  it  on  its  rear  platform.^ 

IThia  day*a  ride  of  50  m.  has  been  alluded  to  in  previous  chapters  (pp.  la,  54,  63),  as  proba- 
bly supplying  the  severest  physical  test  of  any  of  ray  wheeling  experiences,  because  such  intense 
heat  as  prevailed  then  had  not  been  known  on  the  Atlantic  slope  for  a  period  of  seven  years, 
and  nothing  equal  to  it  can  be  found  in  the  atmospheric  records  of  the  four  years  which  have 
since  elapsed.  The  fact  that  a  man  of  average  physique  like  myself  could  escape  un- 
harmed from  a  50-m.  run,  beneath  the  scorching  sunshine  of  "  the  hottest  day  in  eleven  years," 
waaoA  worth  insisting  upon  as  a  proof  of  the  healthf  ulness  of  the  exercise  under  proper  condi- 
tions. In  the  eighth  chapter,  "  Around  New  York  "  (pp.  90-91,  87-88),  I  have  described  the 
routes  connecting  Jamauca  with  that  dty  by  the  ferries  at  Astoria,  Hunter's  Point,  Williamsburg 


154  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

and  Brooklyn ;  and  I  have  also  made  mention  of  several  maps  of  Long  Island  (p.  99).  Still 
another  one,  "  just  completed  after  two  years*  labor/'  is  advertised  as  "the  most  elaborate  map 
of  the  island  ever  made."  It  is  published  by  Gayknrd  Watson,  278  Peail  st.,N.Y.(5i  by  27  tn.,13), 
and  would  doubtless  prove  useful  on  the  wall  of  any  local  club>room.  A  clearly  engraved  little 
map  (a I  by  7  in.,  6  m.  to  i  in.),  which  may  be  easily  tucked  into  the  smallest  podcet-book,  accom- 
panies the  pamphlet,  "  Long  Island  of  To-day,"  which  was  copyrighted  in  18S4  by  Charles  M. 
Heald,  general  traffic  manager  of  the  Long  Island  Railroad,  with  the  idea  of  increaang  the 
traffic  of  that  road  by  an  alluring  presentation  of  the  island's  attractions.  The  book  is  an  octavo 
of  100  pp.,  exclusive  of  30  pp.  of  advertisements,  and  contains  nearly  so  wood-cuts,  supplied  by 
the  American  Bank  Note  Company,  who  are  also  to  be  credited  with  its  handsome  typography. 
"  The  literary  work  was  entrusted  to  Julian  £.  lUlph,  of  the  New  York  ^m»,"  who  seems  to 
have  done  it  as  well  as  could  have  been  expected  of  a  compiler  whose  contract  forbids  him  to  be 
critical ;  though  he  draws  the  long-bow  rather  needlessly  in  calling  the  little  20-m.  stretch  be- 
tween Riverhead  and  Greenport  "  the  most  remarkable  coimtry  road  in  AmeTica--^e  longest 
street  in  the  United  States  except  Broadway,  which  traces  a  parallel  to  the  Hudson  all  the  way 
to  Albany."  Apparently  he  never  heard  of  "  Talbot  Street,"  extending  through  Canada  for 
more  than  500  m.,  nor  of  that  other  street  which  really  is  the  longest  as  well  as  the  most  remark- 
able one  in  the  United  States  :  I  mean  the  macadamized  roadway  which  stretches  straight 
through  the  Shenandoah  Valley,— every  rod  of  it  ridable  by  bicycle  for  150  m.  My  book,  in  fact, 
describes  a  great  number  of  other  country  roads  which  are  longer  and  more  remarkable  than 
this  particular  piece  of  Long  Island,  so  oddly  chosen  for  eulogy.  More  interesting  than  this 
chance  misuse  of  the  superlative,  about  a  subject  of  which  he  was  ignorant,  b  the  cominler's 
statement  of  the  railway  mileage  of  the  island,  which  amounts  to  354  m.;  for,  on  the  authority  of 
a  newspaper  paragraph,  the  managers  have  lately  decided  that  a  passenger's  bicycle  shall  be 
carried  free,  as  personal  baggage,  provided  he  himself  puts  it  on  and  takes  it  off  the  car. 
"  Long  Island  of  To-day  "  is  enclosed  in  an  illuminated  paper  cover  of  tasteful  design  (with 
v%nettes  showing  the  characteristic  pastimes  of  the  place,  one  of  which  is  "  bicycling  "),  and  no 
tourist  thither  should  begrudge  the  as  c.  requisite  for  the  purchase  of  this  valuaUe  guide-book. 

The  earliest  rerorded  day's  ride  of  xoo  m.  through  Long  Island  was  described  in  the  Wheti 
of  Sept.  21,  '83,  by  "  Selah,"  who  says  it  was  accomplished  about  the  middle  of  the  previous 
summer  by  an  acquaintance  who  objected  to  the  publication  of  his  name  as  savoring  of  boastf  ul- 
ness.  This  was  James  Allen,  a  resident  of  Hempstead  who  has  a  law-office  in  New  York,  and 
who,  I  hope,  will  pardon  me  for  publicly  accrediting  him  with  the  ride.  I  consider  it  a  very  re- 
markable one,  and  I  regret  that  he  neglected  my  request  for  personal  statistics,  to  be  added  to 
the  facts  which  I  now  reproduce  from  the  Wheel:  **  Starting  from  Hempstead  at  4.35  a.  m.,  the 
route  led  through  South  Oyster  Bay,  Amityville  and  Babylon  to  Islip,  27  m.,  in  2}  h  ;  thence, 
after  a  stop  of  35  rein.,  to  Patchogue,  where  a  halt  was  made  for  breakfast  from  9.20 to  10  30. 
There  began  the  worst  38  m.  of  the  tour,  of  which  18  m.  were  a  desert  of  sand.  In  crossing 
from  Quog^,  on  the  s.  shore  of  the  island,  to  Riverhead,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  keep  in 
the  saddle ;  and  the  heat  also  grew  troublesome  in  the  passage  through  this  desert  of  scrub  oak 
and  pine.  After  resting  x  h.  at  the  Griffin  House  in  Riverhead,  a  start  was  made  at  s-i5  on  the 
last  22  m.  of  the  course,  which  was  finished  at  Greenport  at  7.05  p.  ic.,  14^  h.  after  leaving 
Hempstead, — the  Mattituck  Hotel  having  been  passed  i  h.  before."  The  only  other  similar  tour 
which  I  have  yet  heard  of  was  taken  June  28,  '84,  by  two  unattached  members  of  the  Le^^e, 
B.  W.  Doughty  and  P.  J.  Bemhard,  who  reside  in  Jamaica  and  attend  to  their  daily  business 
in  New  York,  and  who  have  supplied  me  with  the  following  report :  "  Leaving  Jamaica  at  3.35 
A.  M.,  we  were  15  h.  10  min.  in  covering  the  102  m.,  ending  at  the  Wyandank  House,  in  Green- 
port, at  6.4s  P.  M.  The  weather  was  cool,  but  the  n.  e.  wind  was  against  us  sdl  the  way.  Our 
longest  stay  in  the  saddle  was  from  the  start  to  Babylon  (27  m.),  a  little  more  than  3  h.;  and  the 
roads  continued  in  very  fair  condition  for  23  m.  further,  to  Patchogue.  From  there  to  Wes: 
hampton  they  were  very  sandy,  and  thence  to  Riverhead  (7}  m.)  the  sand  is  ankle-deep  and  or 
forces  walking  for  at  least  2-3  the  way.  The  road  from  Riverhead  to  Greenport  is  fair  for  tl. 
first  6  or  8  m.,  but  for  the  last  14  or  16  m.  it  is  unusually  fine ;  in  fact,  for  a  dirt  road,  one  > 


ZjOJVO  i.st^ANI)  ,iNn   W  ///'•'/   /     '' 


\ '  • 


Z^X 


.^xz  .. 


&I  4  ..Oil         4PA      k^w/    '    «  »  ' 


-        ^        T.3 


156         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  began  my  wheel  explorations  for  1881  by  embarking  from  the  Battery 
at  9  o'clock  of  April  22,  on  a  ferry-boat,  whose  voyage  ended  a  little  less  than 
I  h.  later,  at  Vanderbilt's  Landing,  Staten  Island.  Thence  I  rode  southward 
without  stop,  to  the  end  of  the  macadam  at  Fort  Wadsworth,  ^\  m.,  of  which 
•|  or  ^  was  very  good  riding,  while  the  rest  varied  from  tolerable  to  poor. 
Taking  the  sidewalk  to  the  w.,  I  was  beguiled  by  a  sign  pointing  *'  to  the 
boulevard,'*  into  descending  to  a  sandy  road  along  the  s.  shore ;  but  at  i  m. 
from  the  fort  I  gave  up  hope  of  finding  a  comfortable  southwest  passage 
around  the  island,  and  so  returned  to  the  starting  point.  Continuing  north- 
ward from  Vanderbilt's,  through  Stapleton,  I  rode  up  a  long  hill,  and  then 
down  it  towards  the  w.,  and  around  it  towards  the  e.,  on  the  shore  road,  till  I 
nearly  reached  the  church  on  the  same  hill  again.  I  think  this  was  New 
Brighton,  and  the  distance  from  the  foot  of  the  hill  in  Stapleton  was  2  m. 
Turning  back  along  the  shore  road,  repassing  the  Sailors'  Snug  Harbor,  and 
continuing  a  generally  westward  course,  a  ride  of  4  m.  brought  me  to  the 
Continental  Hotel,  Port  Richmond,  where  I  paid  50  c.  for  a  very  poor  dinner. 
Thence  along  a  winding  road  towards  the  s.  and  w.,  I  went  without  stop  for 
3  m.,  to  the  bridge  at  the  cross-roads,  where  stands  the  BuU's-Head  tavern. 
On  the  return,  as  the  wind  no  longer  favored  me,  two  or  three  dismounts  were 
required  by  sand  or  ruts.     Proceeding  westward  again  from  Port  Richmond, 

1  found  the  macadamized  shore  road  was  very  good  indeed  for  \\  m.,  ending 
at  the  most  westerly  landing  place  of  the  Battery  boats.  A  half-mile  beyond 
this,  the  road  being  barely  ridable,  I  paid  an  honest  oysterman  twenty-five 
cents  to  row  me  across  to  the  main  land.  Disembarking  in  Elizabethport,  at 
the  head  of  Jersey  St.,  which  is  paved  with  tolerably  smooth  Belgian  blocks,  I 
rode  along  the  same  or  else  on  the  sidewalk  flags  to  Broad  St.,  in  Elizabeth, 
up  which  I  turned  to  the  r.  till  I  reached  the  Nicholson-paved  street,  branch- 
ing off  on  the  r.  towards  Newark.  The  distance  of  this  point  from  the  shore 
was  nearly  3  m.,  and  I  was  \  h.  in  getting  over  it.  This  wood-paved  street, 
Frelinghuysen  av.,  stretches  in  a  bee-line  for  3^  m.  to  the  fire-engine  house  in 
Newark,  though  the  wooden-blocks  give  place  to  macadam  during  the  last 

2  m. ;  and  it  was  in  front  of  this  engine-house  that  I  first  tried  the  saddle  of 
a  rubber-tired  bicycle  (March  14,  1879),  ^^^  ^^^  \!\xi^  assistance  of  its  owner, 
the  pioneer  wheelman  of  Newark,  J.  Lafon. 

A  visit  to  Staten  Island  can  be  safely  recommended,  I  think,  to  any  met- 
ropolitan bicycler.  The  macadamized  shore  road  from  Fort  Wadsworth,  on 
the  s.  e.,  to  the  last  ferry  landing  on  the  n.  w.,  about  8  m.  long,  can  be  taken 
without  a  dismount ;  and  though  some  parts  of  it  are  very  poor,  other  sections 
are  as  good  as  possible,  and  two  or  three  of  these  afford  excellent  chances  for 
coasting.  The  outlook  over  the  water  is  almost  continuously  attractive,  and 
from  several  points  may  be  called  superb.  The  two  lines  of  boats  from  the 
Battery  start  on  the  even  half-hours ;  and  all  their  landings  are  within  a  few 
rods  of  the  shore  road.  No  charge  for  the  wheel  is  made  in  addition  to  the 
ten-cent  fare.    My  advice  to  a  tourist  would  be  to  go  ashore  at  either  the 


LONG  ISLAND  AND  STA  TEN  ISLAND. 


157 


southenunost  or  the  westernmost  landing,  though  this  is  not  important. 
From  Port  Richmond  a  ferry-boat  nms  at  brief  intervals  to  Bergen  Point, 
on  the  main  land,  and  I  was  told  that  there  was  a  good  macadam  road  there, 
though  my  informant  could  not  say  that  it  continued  smooth  all  the  way  to 
Jersey  City.  For  an  afternoon's  ride  of  from  lo  to  25  m.,  the  Staten  Island 
roads  which  I  have  described  seem  to  me  as  attractive  a  place  as  can  be 
offered  to  a  New  Yorker.  There  is  a  chance,  too,  that  further  exploration 
might  bring  to  light  other  smooth  paths  in  the  interior  of  the  island. 

The  foregoing  words  of  mine,  as  published  in  the  Bu  World  of  May  20» 
*8i,  were  well  supplemented  by  the  report  of  "  B.  Bugle  "  in  the  same  paper 
of  March  24,  ^82,  from  which  I  quote  the  following :  **  The  interior  roads  of 
the  island  vary  from  fair  to  bad.  About  the  best  is  Richmond  road,  not  to  be 
confounded  with  Richmond  turnpike,  which  latter  is  generally  unridable. 
After  descending  the  hill  at  Tompkinsville,  a  turn  should  be  made  from  the 
shore  back  to  Van  Duzer  st ;  keeping  along  this,  a  turn  will  bring  the  rider 
into  Richmond  road.  Continuing  along  this  for  about  \  m.,  a  high,  bare  hill 
will  be  reached,  at  the  foot  of  which  the  bicycle  should  be  left,  while  the  rider 
makes  the  short  but  steep  ascent.  The  view  from  the  top  is  the  finest  in  the 
vicinity  of  New  York  City.  Continuing  southwardly  along  Richmond  road 
for  about  i  m.,  a  road  will  be  noticed  turning  off  to  the  r.,  and  it  may  be 
recognized  by  a  high  picket  fence  painted  black,  running  along  its  s.  side. 
This  is  the  Clove  road,  running  through  a  natural  gap  in  the  two  ranges  of 
hills,  which  extend  partly  through  the  island,  and  which,  though  too  beautiful 
to  be  missed,  will  test  the  road-riding  education  of  the  bicycler.  When  the 
fork  in  the  roads  is  reached  (1}  m.),  the  road  to  the  right,  bounded  on  the 
right  by  a  high  iron  fence,  should  be  taken,  which  will  afford  an  almost  con- 
tinuous coast  of  nearly  i  m.  back  to  the  shore  road  at  West  New  Brighton. 

**  If,  instead  c^  turning  off  at  the  Clove,  the  rider  keeps  along  the  Richmond 
road,  a  ride  of  about  4  m.  will  bring  him  to  the  village  of  Richmond,  the 
county  seat,  where,  if  he  is  of  an  inquiring  turn  of  mind,  he  may  visit  the  jail 
and  county  buildings.  From  here  he  should  take  the  Springville  road  (which 
he  will  probably  find  unfit  for  riding),  w.  to  the  Morning  Star  road  (so  called 
from  a  tavern  which  some  hundred  years  ago  went  by  that  name),  n.  to  Gran- 
iteville,  turning  to  the  right  at  the  engine  house,  and  then  down  the  Church 
road  or  Richmond  av.  to  the  shore  road  at  Port  Richmond.  Opposite  the 
ferry  slip  here  may  be  noticed  an  old  tavern  which  is  rendered  notable  by  the 
fact  that  Aaron  Burr  died  in  its  eastern  room.  A  week  could  be  very  pleas- 
antly spent  upon  the  island  by  any  bicycler  to  whom  mere  distance  riding  and 
racing  are  not  the  sum  total  of  cycling  existence.  It  is  better  to  come  early 
in  the  season,  because,  aside  from  the  cooler  weather,  the  mosquitoes  will  be 
met  as  single  spies,  whereas  a  later  visit  will  be  apt  to  find  them  in  battalions. 

*'At  about  its  middle  point,  the  island  is  nearly  divided  laterally  by  a  sort 
of  lagoon,  known  as  the  Fresh  Kills,  an  arm  of  the  narrow  strait  which  sepa- 
rates it  from  New  Jersey.    South  of  this  the  roads  are  generally  sandy,  and 


158  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

offer  but  few  inducements  to  the  bicycler.  North  of  it  the  country  is  covered 
with  hills,  none  of  which,  however,  attain  an  altitude  of  more  than  450  ft.  I 
should  advise  the  New  Yorker  who  can  spend  but  a  day  upon  the  island  to 
take  the  north  shore  ferry,  from  the  Battery  to  Elm  Park,  and  ride  from  there, 
according  to  directions,  to  Grymes  hill,  where  the  finest  view  can  be  obtained ; 
then  back  to  the  shore  road,  to  the  fort,  and  return.  At  Mariners*  Harbor 
there  is  a  row-boat  ferry  to  Elizabethport,  and  at  Port  Richmond  a  ferry  to 
Bergen  Point.  A  good  map  is  published  as  an  advertisement  by  a  clothing 
house  at  254  Broadway,  where  I  have  no  doubt  that  free  copies  can  be  had." 


Aa  admirable  pocket  map  of  Staten  Itland,  on  the  lart;e  scale  of  ^  m.  to  i  in.  (1884,  aheet 
33  by  28  in.,  foldejl  in  cloth  cover,  ^i),  publithed  by  the  Coltons,  x8a  William  sL,  N.  Y.,  sbows 
all  the  roads  with  great  plainness,  as  well  as  the  hills  and  swamps.  There  are  wide  stretches  of 
these  on  the  w.  side,  as  well  as  in  New  Jersey,  just  opposite ;  and  the  map  exhibits  a  13-m.  sec- 
tion of  that  State,  including  the  towns  of  Perth  Amboy,  Woodbridge,  Rahway,  Roselle,  Eliza- 
beth and  Bayonne.  The  w.  end  of  Long  Island  is  also  shown,  as  well  as  "  mile  cirdes,"  reck- 
oned from  the  city  ball  in  New  York,— Tottenville,  in  the  s.  w.  comer,  being  thus  designated  as 
19  m.  distant.  "  The  Staten  Island  Rapid  Tranadt  Railroad  "  appears  on  the  map  as  skirting 
the  shore  from  Bowman's,  at  the  n.  w.  comer,  opposite  Elizabethport,  e.,  s.  and  s.  w.,  to  the 
light-house  at  the  Richmond  Club  Ground  (about  14  m.) ;  but  I  suppose  the  actual  construction 
of  the  line  is  a  thing  of  the  future.  The  island's  "  reported  roads  "  are  sho«m  in  a  chart  (3I  by 
^\  in.,  4  m.  to  z  in.)  of  Wood's  road-book,  of  which  afuU  account  may  be  found  on  p.  177.  A 
similar  map  of  Long  Island  (xo  m.  to  z  in.),  covering  another  page  of  the  same  useful  guide,  shows 
the  situation  of  most  of  its  routes,  which  are  described  in  this  chapter,  as  well  as  some  others  ^iHuch 
bicyclers  have  explored,  and  it  mentions  the  fact  of  ferry-connection  across  the  Sound  between 
Port  Jefferson  and  Bridgeport.  The  route  of  26  m.  leading  to  the  former  town  from  Northport 
(through  Camac,  Smithtown  and  Setauket)  is  called  "level  and  fairly  ridable."  The  same  ad- 
jectives are  s^jplied  in  the  same  book  to  the  loam  road  on  Staten  Island  connecting  Tottenville 
with  the  macadam  at  New  Dorp  (zo  m.).  Through  travelers  from  Philadelphia  who  take  the  in- 
land route  10  far  as  Elizabeth,  are  advised  by  the  guide  that  "  a  short  and  comfortable  termi- 
nation of  the  run  may  be  had  by  wheeling  2  m.  to  Elizabethport,  whence  a  new  and  useful  line  of 
ferry  boats  runs  to  New  York,  touching  at  Staten  Island  on  the  way."  The  permanency  of  the 
new  line  is  threatened  by  litigation,  at  the  time  these  words  are  written ;  but,  even  if  the  line 
shall  be  discontinued,  the  tourist  can  readily  obtain  access  to  the  island  from  Elizabethport  by  row- 
boat,  and  complete  his  journey  thence  to  the  city  by  a  very  pleasant  ride  up  the  bay  on  a  steamer 
of  one  of  the  regular  lines.  The  quoted  warning  against  mosquitoes  should  by  no  means  be  dis- 
regarded i  for  my  own  second  ride  on  the  island,  though  taken  on  a  cool  day  late  in  the  season 
(Sept.  z5,  '82),  found  so  many  of  them,  even  on  the  summit  of  Grymes  hill,  that  my  enjoyment 
of  that  noble  outlook  was  seriously  impaired  by  the  attacks  of  these  persistent  pests.  I  believe 
the  island  has  never  been  formally  attacked  by  more  respectable  foes,  though  its  situation  makes 
it  of  strategic  importance  in  military  operations,  and  I  do  not  foiget  the  futile  forays  made  there 
by  Generals  Sullivan  (Z777)  and  Stirling  (1780),  when  it  served  as  a  camping-ground  for  the 
British  armies.  Just  across  the  Narrows,  however,  on  ground  now  covered  by  the  extensive  col- 
lection of  houses  called  Brooklyn,  was  fought  the  battle  of  Long  Island  (Aug.  28,  Z776),  notable 
z&  the  first  struggle  that  followed  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  A  description  of  it,  by  J. 
W.  Chadwick,  with  illustrations  and  map,  may  be  found  in  Harpef's  Mctgmtme  lor  August, 
Z876,  pp.  333-346.  The  restdt  of  the  battle  gave  New  York  City  into  the  keeping  of  the  Brittah 
until  independence  was  really  won ;  and  the  shores  of  these  thre^  islands  ultimately  looked  upon 
the  final  act  in  that  great  drama,  on  the  "evacuation  day  "  (Nov.  25,  1783),  when  the  last  dt^ 
parting  transports  of  the  defeated  "  armed  invaders  "  disappeared  forever  down  the  Narrows. 


XIII. 

COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS.** 

Before  me  lies  spread  the  **  topographical  map  of  a  part  of  northern  New 
Jersey,"  an  official  publication  (1882)  of  the  State  Geological  Survey,  whose 
executive  chief  is  Professor  George  H.  Cook,  the  Vice-President  of  Rutgers 
College.  To  his  courtesy  I  am  indebted  for  my  copy  of  the  map,  whereof  it 
is  not  possible  to  make  public  purchase,  inasmuch  as  "  the  results  of  the  sur- 
vey are  intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  citizens  of  the  State,  and  the  board  of 
managers  have  charge  of  and  direct  the  distribution  of  its  collections,  reports, 
and  maps."  I  presume,  however,  that  a  well-recommended  application  from 
any  respectable  Jerseyman  would  be  apt  to  meet  with  favorable  attention. 
The  map  is  35  in.  sq.,  and,  as  its  scale  is  i  m.  to  i  in.,  representation  is  clearly 
made  of  a  large  section  of  land  and  water,  including  all  of  Staten  Island,  the 
w.  end  of  Long  Island,  the  bay  and  city  of  New  York,  and  the  Hudson 
River,  almost  to  the  point  where  it  ceases  to  serve  as  a  boundary  for  New 
Jersey.  "  Contour  lines  are  drawn  10  ft.  apart  in  plain  country,  and  20  ft. 
apart  in  the  hilly  portions,  and  numerals  are  attached  to  show  the  height  of 
contour  lines  in  feet  above  mean  tide."  The  engraving  and  coloring  are  ex- 
cellent; the  roads  are  clearly  defined;  the  heights  of  the  hills  which  they 
cross  can  be  seen  at  a  glance ;  the  swamps  are  made  prominent  as  well  as  the 
brooks  and  rivers;  in  short,  the  whole  map  is  eminently  calculated  to  delight 
the  heart  of  a  touring  bicycler ;  and  if  any  similarly  accurate  representation 
of  the  topography  of  any  other  equally  large  section  of  American  soil  is  now 
in  existence,  I  have  yet  to  learn  of  that  fortunate  fact.  In  the  good  time  com- 
ing, when  bicyclers  shall  more  generally  enforce  their  views  in  legislative 
enactments,  we  may  reasonably  hope  not  only  for  more  good  roads,  but  for 
more  State  Geological  Surveys  as  creditably  managed  as  this  present  one. 

Looking  down  on  this  map,  whereon  I  have  indicated  in  red  the  many 
miles  of  road  that  my  wheel  has  whirled  along,  I  see  that  the  region  whose 
facilities  for  **  coasting  "  I  wish  to  recommend  lies  chiefly  within  the  limits  of 
a  nearly  equilateral  triangle,  whose  sides  may  be  said  to  average  about  8  m. 
in  length.  The  bridge  over  the  Passaic  river,  by  which  the  New  Yorker 
enters  the  city  of  Newark,  may  be  assumed  as  the  point  of  meeting  of  the 
straight  macadamized  roadways  which  form  two  sides  of  this  triangle :  Spring- 
field av.,  which  starts  from  the  court-house  and  extends  s.  w.  in  a  bee-line  for 
more  than  5  m.,  and  Bloomfield  av.,  which  goes  n.  w.,  straightaway  for  3  m. 
to  Bloomfield,  and  then  with  but  slight  turnings  for  2  m.  more  to  the  hill  at 

iFram  Tkf  H^ketimaH,  Jane,  i8Ss,  pp^  ais^ai. 


i62  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Franklin  on  my  map  of  less  than  a  twelfth  part  of  the  State),  about  5  m.  A 
clay  road,  which  is,  at  many  seasons  of  the  year,  nearly  as  smooth  as  mac- 
adam, extends  westward  for  3  m.,  whereof  the  first  two  are  as  straight  as  the 
crow  flies,  to  Pine  Brook  post-office,  which  is  the  terminus  of  an  omnibus  line 
from  Newark,  and  also  the  terminus  of  the  good  roadway.  Here,  then,  is  an 
excellent  track,  13  m.  long,  which  may  be  ridden  in  either  direction  without  a 
dismount,  and  nearly  every  rod  of  which  may  be  coasted  in  the  course  of  a  round 
trip.  An  average  rider  in  doing  the  26  m.  could  easily  ride  a  dozen  with  his  feet 
off  the  pedals ;  though,  perhaps,  he  would  be  obliged  to  walk  up  the  big  hill  west- 
ward at  Montclair,  and  the  big  hill  eastward  at  Caldwell.  I  myself  have 
never  conquered  the  latter  but  once,  and  the  former  I  have  oftener  walked  up 
than  ridden.  From  its  top  one  may  coast  continuously  for  2  m.  and  more 
down  to  Bloomfield,  except  that  the  pedals  may  have  to  be  worked  for  a  few 
rods  in  the  case  of  two  or  three  short  ascents  which  the  momentum  may  not 
be  quite  sufficient  to  master.  The  BL  World  of  June  17,  1881,  contained  a 
brief  report  of  mine  under  the  same  title  that  is  employed  for  the  present 
chapter ;  and,  though  I  have  had  experience  of  many  new  hills  in  the  two 
years'  interval,  my  final  words  in  that  report  can  be  reprinted  with  truth  to- 
day :  "  Beyond  Montclair  there  are  facilities  for  up-hill  racing  such  as  I  have 
never  seen  other  roads  afford.  Several  bicyclers  could  there  compete  abreast, 
if  need  be,  on  perfectly  equal  terms.  On  this  westward  route,  also,  there  is 
one  particularly  smooth  stretch,  where  a  rider  may  coast  for  a  mile  down  a  grade 
so  gentle  that  the  return  trip  is  hardly  thought  of  as  an  ascent.  If  the  excite- 
ment of  a  lightning-like  flight  through  the  air  is  desired,  however,  there  are 
plenty  of  steep  hills  where  it  can  be  had,  and  without  danger  of  any  obstacle's 
sudden  appearance  at  a  cross-road.  On  these  little  Jersey  *■  mountains,'  coast- 
ing congenial  to  all  tastes  is  attainable.  The  perils  of  the  pastime  are  reduced 
to  the  minimum ;  the  pleasures  thereof  are  increased  to  the  maximum." 

Springfield  av.,  the  s.  w.  border  of  the  triangle,  whose  very  name  ought 
to  have  had  power  to  attract  me  to  it  at  the  outset,  was  not,  in  fact,  discov- 
ered by  me  until  after  I  had  had  three  years*  acquaintance  with  all  the  other 
important  thoroughfares  in  the  Newark  and  Orange  region.  Its  macadam 
begins  at  the  comer  of  Morris  av. ;  and,  mounting  there  on  the  5th  of  November 
last,  at  10.50  A.  M.,  I  passed  Irvington  at  11.05,  Middleville  at  11. 15,  Milburn 
at  XI.30,  turned  to  the  right  into  the  cinder  path  at  11.33,  ^^'^  made  my  first 
dismount  at  the  railroad  station  in  Short  Hills  at  11.37.  The  cyclometer 
called  the  distance  *j\  m. ;  but  the  return  trip,  which  was  also  made  without 
dismount,  in  44  min.,  it  called  only  7  m.  The  roughest  pavement  was  that 
between  Newark  and  Irvington,  while  the  cinder  path,  from  the  Short  Hills 
station  to  the  main  road,  supplied,  perhaps,  the  smoothest  one  of  the  many 
good  places  for  coasting.  Two  days  before,  when  I  first  discovered  this  ave- 
nue near  Wyoming, — ^having  come  down  to  that  point  on  an  exploring  tour 
from  the  Valley  road  at  South  Orange, — I  did  not  have  the  luck  to  turn  off  to> 
wards  Short  Hills,  but  kept  straight  on  for  \  m.  past  the  reservoir,  and  then,  at 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  163 

the  first  cross-road,  turned  to  the  right  and  walked  i^  m.  along  a  sandy  up- 
ward slope  to  a  bridge  on  its  summit,  spanning  a  dry  ravine.  Mounting  there, 

1  rode  along  a  fairly  good  track  through  Chatham  to  the  hotel  in  Madison,  4 
m.  in  35  min. ;  thence  without  stop  to  the  public  square  in  Morristown,  nearly 
5  m.  in  40  mia.    The  return  trip  to  Madison  I  also  made  without  stop,  in 

2  min.  less,  and,  after  reaching  the  dry  bridge  beyond  Chatham,  I  improved 
upon  my  former  route  by  taking  the  first  road  to  the  1.,  for  this,  spite  of  its 
unattractive  appearance,  allowed  me  to  ride  most  of  the  way  to  Short  Hills. 

My  first  visit  to  Morristown,  however,  was  made  on  May  Day  of  1882,  and 
by  a  different  route.  Starting  from  the  hotel  in  Orange  at  8.15  a.  m.,  I  went 
westward  along  Main  st.  to  its  nominal  end  at  the  Valley  road, — ^for  beyond 
this  the  street  is  called  the  Mountain  road, — and  up  the  same  I  toiled,  much 
of  the  way  on  foot,  until  I  reached  St.  Cloud  at  the  top,  2  m.  from  the  start. 
Then,  after  i^  m.  of  good  track,  mostly  coasted,  I  began  the  ascent  on  foot  of  the 
second  mountain,  and  was  forty  minutes  on  the  way  to  the  flag-pole  in  North- 
field,  2^  m.  Thence  to  West  Livingston  and  Hanover  there  was  much  walk- 
mg  and  rough  riding ;  but  beyond  this  latter  point  I  had  a  long  stay  in  the 
saddle,  and  I  stopped  at  the  tavern  pump  in  Whippany  at  1 1  o'clock,  with 
ii|  m.  on  my  day's  record.  I  was  an  hour  riding  from  there  to  the  Mansion 
House  in  Morristown,  not  quite  5  m.,  over  an  excellent  track*  which  might  be 
made  without  dismount,  and  which  I  did  so  make  in  returning,  when  the  wind  fa- 
vored me.  In  leaving  Whippany  for  Morristown  one  must  turn  1.  at  the  mill- 
pond  and  journey  towards  the  south.  Monroe  is  the  name  of  an  intermediate 
village,  if  it  can  be  called  one ;  and  near  this  is  the  long  hill  which  I  failed  to 
ride  up.  By  this  route  *'  Washington's  Headquarters  "  is  reached  before  one 
arrives  at  the  center  of  the  town ;  and  no  patriotic  wheelman  should  fail  to 
halt  at  that  historic  mansion.  The  lofty  hill  beyond  the  court-house  and  res- 
ervoir in  Morristown  is  well  worth  walking  up,  for  the  sake  of  the  extensive 
riew  therefrom ;  and  I  found  good  wheeling  for  i  m.  to  westward,  as  well 
as  in  the  principal  streets  of  the  town.  At  Hanover  post-office,  on  my  home- 
ward journey,  I  bade  adieu  to  my  forenoon's  route,  and  rode  thence  north- 
ward, without  stop,  to  the  Swinefield  iron  bridge,  2\  m.  in  17  min.  This  was 
my  most  creditable  mount  of  the  day,  for  I  climbed  two  rather  soft  hills,  and 
overcame  other  obstacles,  which  would  have  caused  a  halt,  had  not  the  wind 
helped  me.  From  the  bridge,  by  a  road  winding  to  the  r.,  and  mostly  un- 
ridable,  I  went  2  m.  to  Pine  Brook ;  and  thence,  over  the  smooth  track  before 
described,  to  my  starting-point  in  Orange,  at  7.45  P.  M.,  with  45  m.  to  my 
credit  I  may  as  well  say  here  that  when,  in  September,  1880, 1  pushed  my 
wheel  from  the  Delaware  Water  Gap  to  Pine  Brook  (55  m.),  by  way  of 
Kaiistown,  Johnsonburg,  Alamoochy,  Waterloo,  Stanhope,  Drakes ville,  Mc- 
Cainsville,  Dover,  Rockaway,  Denville,  and  Persippany,  I  found  mgst  of  the 
roads  about  as  rough  and  hard  to  get  over  as  are  the  names  just  quoted.  I 
therefore  give  warning  against  that  route,  for  I  think  I  should  have  fared 
rather  better  if  I  had  aimed  for  Morristown.    The  best  course  between  Ne1^ 


i66  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

above ;  or,  instead  of  descending  to  the  river,  he  may  turn  s.,  in  order  to  reach 
the  boulevards  leading  towards  Bergen  Hill,  as  described  on  p.  83. 

Such  tourist  will  please  observe,  therefore,  that,  if  he  wishes  to  reach 
"  the  triangle  "  by  the  Paterson  route,  which  I  have  described  without  specially 
recommending,  he  should  make  the  w.  descent  into  Ridgefield,  instead  of 
turning  s.  at  the  Edgewater  hill.  A  third  path  from  Ridgefield  to  "  the 
triangle,"  as  explored  by  me  on  the  20th  of  December,  188 1, 1  mention  in 
order  to  give  warning  against,  though  perhaps  it  might  not  be  so  bad  at 
another  time  of  year.  From  the  Freiburg  bridge  I  rode  w.  for  i  m.,  instead 
of  going  n.  by- the  Hackensack  turnpike;  then,  by  a  rather  winding  road 
through  a  swampy,  wooded  country,  I  went  s.  about  2  m.  and  w.  the  same 
distance,  walking  pretty  continuously  through  the  mud  until  at  Woodbridge 
I  climbed  a  hill  200  ft.  high.  From  here  L  rode  by  short  stretches  on  the 
plank  and  dirt  sidewalks,  through  Carlstadt,  Rutherford,  and  Lyndhurst,  to 
the  bridge  across  the  Passaic  at  Avondale,  but  was  i  h.  in  doing  the  distance, 
which  is  less  than  4  m.  Having  followed  the  fairly  good  sidewalks  of  the 
river-road  for  2  m.  down  to  Belleville,  I  there  discovered  that  an  ideally 
smooth  macadamized  avenue  ran  parallel  for  the  whole  distance  on  the  crest 
of  the  hill,  \  m.  to  the  w.,  and  gave  excellent  chances  for  coasting.  So  I 
rode  back  to  the  head  of  it  at  Avondale,  and  found  it  extended  thence  nearly 
3  m.  toward  Newark.  When  the  macadam  ended,  I  followed  the  sidewalks 
of  the  same  avenue  1}  m.  further  s.,  and  there  came  to  its  point  of  junction 
with  Bloomfield  av.     (For  report  of  this  route  reversed,  see  p.  168.) 

^In  describing  the  roads  around  New  York  (Chapter  VIII.),  I  have  de- 
voted no  less  than  a  half-dozen  pages  (80-85)  ^^  those  upon  the  Jersey  shore ; 
and  the  routes  from  the  130th  st.  ferry  to  Englewood  may  be- found  on  pp.8i» 
84.  On  the  7th  of  May,  1883,  I  mounted  there  at  3  p.  m.  (having  previously 
ridden  25  m.),  and  after  following  the  main  street  w.  for  perhaps  \  m.  beyond 
the  r.  r.  crossing,  I  turned  s.  and  then  w.,  and  in  \  h.  was  stopped  by  the  up- 
grade of  red  clay  leading  to  School-house  No.  9.  Thence  I  went  s.  about  i  m. 
to  the  Teneck  road,  and  along  it  w.  over  a  succession  of  hills,  one  of  which  I 
descended  (4  m.  in  i  h.)  just  before  crossing  the  bridge  into  Hackensack.  A 
wide  stretch  of  the  country  thus  traversed  belongs  to  William  Walter  Phelps, 
one  of  the  largest  land-owners  in  New  Jersey ;  and  the  only  really  good  riding  I 
found  was  on  some  of  the  macadamized  roads  connected  with  his  private  resi- 
dence. From  a  store  in  the  center  of  Hackensack  (i  m.)  I  went  i  m.  straight 
n.  w.  to  the  7-m.  plank ;  and  thence  in  \  h.  to  the  hotel  at  Areola,  2\  m.  A 
little  beyond  here  I  made  a  sharp  turn  1.,  to  cross  the  bridge  over  Saddle 
river,  and  then,  \  m.  further,  instead  of  continuing  n.,  I  turned  s.  w.,  and  went 
in  a  bee-line  to  the  Broadway  bridge  leading  into  Paterson,  walking  up  two 
hills  on  the  way.  Forty  minutes  later,  after  passing  the  3-m.  plank,  I  readied 
the  comer  of  Broadway  and  West  St.,  in  Paterson,  14  m.  and  3  h.  i(0»  ^ 


iThe  remainder  of  this  chapter  is  now  for  die  first  time  published. 


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i68  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tinuous  on  the  e.  side)  for  i)  m.,  to  a  point  beyond  the  cemetery,  where  I 
took  the  macadam  of  the  roadway,  which  is  rough  for  \  m.,  until  the  horse 
r.  r.  tracks  leave  it,  and  turn  r.  down  the  hill  to  the  river.  At  Avondale,  after 
a  3-m.  spin  along  the  ideal  macadam  of  the  ridge,  I  crossed  the  river,  and 
after  going  under  the  r.  r.  bridge,  wheeled  along  the  w.  sidewalks  pretty  con- 
tinuously to  Rutherford,  2}  m.  Thence  to  Carlstadt,  beyond  which  I  went 
too  far  n.  towards  Hackensack ;  but  at  last  made  a  turn  r.  (3^  m.  from  Ruther- 
ford), which  brought  me  to  a  r.  r.  station  in  |  m. ;  then,  in  i  J  m.,  I  turned  n., 
and  within  2  m.  reached  Freiburg  bridge,  the  western  approach  to  Ridgefield, 
described  on  p.  166.  I  have  since  been  told  that  the  route  straight  across  the 
marshes  from  Carlstadt,  popularly  known  as  the  Paterson  plank  road  (which 
I  have  expressed  an  ignorance  of  on  p.  81),  is  fairly  ridable;  and  I  might 
have  saved  the  hills  by  going  that  way.  I  delayed  so  long  in  taking  supper 
with  a  friend  at  Ridgefield,  that,  when  I  reached  the  ferry  at  Wechawken, 
"  the  last  boat  had  gone,"  and  I  was  obliged  to  drag  my  weary  bones  up  the 
heights  again,  and  get  slow  transit  to  Hoboken  by  horse-car.  It  was  10.30 
p.  M.,  therefore,  when  I  finally  trundled  my  wheel  into  Washington  Square, 
with  a  record  of  45^  m.  for  the  12  h.  The  boats  connecting  with  the  night 
trains  of  the  new  West  Shore  railway  now  give  later  access  to  New  York 
(42d  st)  than  those  of  the  old  ferry,  just  above ;  and  a  new  road,  paved  with 
Belgian  blocks,  has  been  graded  upwards  from  the  railway  terminus,  to  the 
brewery  at  Fulton  St.,  which  is  described  on  p.  84  as  connecting  the  two  par- 
allel boulevards.  Macadam  has  lately  been  applied  to  the  easternmost  of 
these,  from  the  region  of  the  tunnel  to  Guttenberg  (i  m.),  and  also  to  a  part 
of  the  sandy  stretch  between  Ridgefield  and  Englewood  (p.  84),  which  are 
destined  to  be  connected,  in  a  few  years,  by  a  continuously  smooth  roadway. 
As  a  result  of  legal  complications  with  a  bankrupt  railroad,  the  prolongation 
of  Fulton  St.,  just  described,  is  barred  to  ordinary  trafiic ;  but  I  suppose  that 
a  foot-passenger  can  have  no  trouble  in  descending  to  the  station  along  the 
sidewalk,  even  though  he  be  accompanied  by  a  bicycle.^ 

1*'  Paulus  Hook  *'  was  the  name  held  in  Revolutionary  times  by  that  part  of  Jersey  City 
where  now  stand  the  ferry-houses  of  the  Pennsylvania  railroad  and  Taylor's  Hotel  (p.  83) ;  and 
"  Marion,"  the  first  station  (3  m.)  on  that  road,  is  best  reached  l^  going  along  the  sidewalk 
flags  of  Montgomery  av.,  parallel  to  it;  then  turning  1.  one  blodc  and  r.  three  blocks.  It  may 
be  reached  from  the  other  direction  by  turning  r.  soon  after  crosdiig  the  r.  r.  tracks  where  the 
ascent  of  Bergen  Hill  begins  on  the  w. ;  and  Philadelphia  riders  recommend  this  route  as  the 
best  for  those  who  wish  to  go  to  Taylor's  Hotel  without  climbing  to  the  summit  of.  the  hill.  An 
illustrated  article  (covering  the  first  14  pp.  of  LipptMcotfs  Magazine^  July,  1884)  descriptive  of 
"  Some  New  Jersey  Suburbs  of  the  Metropolis,"  takes  Short  Hills  as  a  type  of  what  is  brand- 
new,  and  Bergen  as  the  best  surviving  representation  of  the  antique.  I  make  room  for  the 
following  extract :  "  Upon  Bergen  Hill,  within  cannon-shot  of  Wall  St.,  there  is  more  to  recall 
the  primitive  condition  of  Manhattan  than  can  be  found  upon  the  island  itself.  Although,  look- 
ing eastward,  the  underbrush  of  masts  and  spires  and  roofs  show  him  a  modem  commercial  city, 
looking  westward  over  the  marshes  the  prospect  is  very  much  the  ame  that  was  presented  to  the 
primitive  Dutchmen  who  first  climbed  here.  The  marshes,  still  bare,  are  swathed,  of  an  April 
afternoon,  in  swimming  and  luminous  mist,  which  reduces  Newark  to  a  vague  uncertainty,  all 


COA  STING  ON  THE  JERSE  Y  HILLS,  1 69 

A  northward  route  from  Avondale,  mentioned  in  the  preceding  para- 
graph, was  thus  described  by  a  tourist  of  Sept.  3,  '84 :  "  At  the  end  of  the 
macadam,  turning  L,  r.  and  r.,  we  soon  passed  the  depot  and  struck  the  main 
road  again,  which  brought  us  into  Passaic,  3^  m.,  where  we  took  the  river 
road  and  found  good  side-path  riding  to  Paterson,  5J  m.  Thence  we  went 
nearly  e.  for  2  m.  to  Areola, — to  reach  which  town  a  turn  must  be  made  s.  (r.), 
at  the  terminus  of  the  road  from  Paterson,  for  a  few  rods ;  then  e.  over  a 
bridge  crossing  the  Saddle  river.  The  first  road  beyond  is  the  direct  one  n., 
and  is  nearly  straight  to  the  '  three  forks,' — the  side-path  riding  being  excellent 
to  this  point.  The  center  road  at  the  forks  should  be  taken  past  the 
cemetery,  and  all  is  then  plain  sailing  to  Hohokus  (6^  m.  from  A.) ;  but  be- 
fore reaching  Allendale  (2  m.)  the  track  grows  hillier;  and  between  Ramseys 
(2  ro.)  and  Mahwah  (1}  m.),  we  were  forced  to  dismount  on  several  stiff 
grades.  Soon  afterwards,  however,  we  reached  an  excellent  cinder  path, 
which  brought  us  quickly  to  Suffern  (3  m.),  whose  hotel  is  only  a  few  rods 
beyond  the  border  line  of  New  Jersey."  My  own  route  in  reaching  the  same 
place  from  Newark,  ten  days  later,  was  a  longer  and  poorer  one,  which  I 
chose  partly  through  ignorance,  and  partly  for  variety's  sake.  Having 
traversed  the  well-known  macadam  to  its  end  (10  m.  from  the  "Z.  &  S." 
starting-point)  at  the  comer  in  Franklin,  where  the  1.  road  leads  due  w.  to 
Pine  Brook,  I  turned  r.  and  proceeded  along  a  rough  surface  to  a  hill  (i  m.), 
which  caused  a  few  rods'  walking.  My  next  stop  was  made  i  m.  beyond 
(after  turning  1.  at  bridge),  and  \  m.  of  walking  then  brought  me  to  the  cross- 
roads, where  the  1.  leads  back  to  Pine  Brook,  and  where  I  turned  r.  for  the 
church  at  Fairfield,  and  then  1.  at  a  point  beyond  it,  \  m.  from  the  cross- 
roads. Two  Bridges  is  a  pretty  little  place  at  the  junction  of  the  streams,  3 
m.  from  Franklin ;  and  after  crossing  both  of  them,  I  followed  the  second 
one  to  the  1.  for  x  m.,  until,  just  below  Mountain  View,  I  reached  the  main 
road  previously  described  as  connecting  Little  Falls  with  Pompton  (p.  165). 
The  same  road  might  also  have  been  reached  by  turning  r.,  after  crossing  the 

but  a  few  gaunt  chimneys,  and  through  which  the  masses  of  the  Orange  hills  loom  faintly  blue. 
The  slope  of  Snake  Hill,  nearest  us,  is  still  unplanted  and  unbuilt.  This  shining  ribbon  almost 
under  us  is  the  Hackensack,  and  that  narrower  and  further  gleam  the  Passaic.  All  these  were 
here  when  the  Dutchmen  came,  and  it  all  looks  very  much  as  it  must  have  looked  then.  The 
streets  of  Befgen,  too,  though  more  or  less  modified,  retain  the  primitive  arrangement  of  a  pali- 
saded village ;  and  here  and  there  along  them  are  ardiitectural  relics  of  the  Dutch  dynasty.  The 
most  remarkable  and  interesting  of  these  is  the  Sip  house,  which  has  an  interest  unique  in  this 
country,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief,  in  being  now  the  residence  of  the  descendants 
in  the  seventh  generation  of  its  builders,  by  whose  family  it  has  been  continuously  occupied.  A 
very  credible  family  tradition  asserts  that  Lord  Comwallis  once  lodged  and  slept  here,  when  he 
was  in  command  of  East  Jersey.  It  was  down  what  is  now  Bergen  av.  that  Sergeant-Major 
John  Champe  galloped,  pursued  by  his  own  comrades  as  a  deserter,  to  escape  to  the  British  lines 
and  kidnap  Arnold,  in  order  to  deliver  the  traitor  up  to  Washington,  and  to  justify  the  American 
commander  in  liberating  Andr4.  Champe's  escape  was  narrowly  successful ;  but  he  found  it 
harder  to  leave  his,  new  friends  than  his  old,  and  had  to  go  soldiering  about  in  Virginia  under 
Comwallis  before  he  had  an  opportunity  to  make  a  real  desertion." 


170 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


two  bridges ;  and  I  think  such  turning  may  be  safely  recommended  to  any 
who  choose  to  go  from  Pine  Brook  to  Paterson  by  this  route. 

From  the  bridge  at  Mountain  View  I  went  without  stop  i  J  m.,  to  place 
where  sign  on  r.  says  "  3J  m.  to  Pompton  " ;  and  there  I  crossed  canal  bridge 
to  I.,  and  then  bore  around  to  r.,  riding  n.  through  the  village  of  Pompton 
Plains  to  place  (3  m.)  where  road  forks  r.  to  steel-works  and  Norton's  Hotel 
(p.  165).  I  kept  straight  on  to  the  1.,  however,  and  then,  about  \  m.  above 
(where  I  should  have  turned  r.),  turned  1.  and  rode  i  m.  to  Bloomingdale, 
where  I  found  my  mistake  and  rode  back  again.^  One  mile  beyond  this,  I 
turned  r.  at  a  tavern,  having  previously  turned  1.  after  crossing  a  bridge ;  and 
I  turned  1.  in  2  m.  at  a  church,  and  then  rode  at  speed  for  i  m.  to  the  tavern 
at  Oakland  station.  This  looked  so  unattractive  that,  though  darkness  was 
settling  on,  I  thought  I  would  try  to  reach  a  better  one;  but  I  soon  went 
astray,  by  turning  up-hill  at  the  first  r.  road,  and  then  failing  to  take  the  next 
r.  road  for  Crystal  Lake.  So  I  came  back  to  the  tavern  at  Oakland,  after  a 
useless  tramp  of  i^  m.,  at  7  o'clock,  with  a  record  of  26}  m.  The  fact  that 
my  cyclometer  registered  only  17  m.  during  the  5  h.  of  the  afternoon,  when  I 
was  in  almost  continuous  motion,  shows  that  it  fell  short  of  the  truth ;  and  I 
presume  the  lesser  distances  recorded  may  not  be  quite  accurate.  Pompton 
pond,  which  I  passed  just  before  nightfall,  is  a  pretty  sheet  of  water,  along- 
side which  I  noticed  the  tents  of  some  campers-out.  The  mountain  ranges 
seem  to  converge  as  one  rides  up  to  Pompton  from  the  s. ;  so  that  they  are 
there  distinctly  present  to  one's  notice  instead  of  being  remote  points  on  the 
horizon,  as  at  the  start.  Next  morning,  therefore,  I  found  that  I  was  riding 
along  the  pleasantly  shaded  western  slope  of  the  eastern  range,  while  the 
western  range  was  far  off  to  the  r. ;  and  the  surface  seemed  to  gradually  in- 


1  Echo  Lake,  at  Newfoundland,  is  only  about  6  m.  n.  w.  from  Bloomingdale ;  but,  as  a 
halting-place  for  the  night  on  a  two  days'  circuit  of  85  m.  between  Newark  and  Greenwood 
Lake  it  is  just  49  m.  from  the  headquarters  of  "  Z.  &  S.,"  who  send  me  the  foDowing  directions 
for  route  :  "  From  Pompton,  go  to  Wanaque  and  Boardville,  turning !.  at  foot  of  hill  within  200 
yards  of  school-house,  and  proceeding  thence  in  almost  a  direct  line  to  the  lake.  The  hotel  here, 
known  as  Brown's  or  Cooper's,  gives  a  good  dinner  for  50  c,  and  the  run  from  Oraton  Hall  (39  m.) 
can  be  made  easily  in  7  h.  After  amusing  yourself  for  a  few  hours  on  the  lake  and  around  it,  take 
a  lo-m.  run  down  to  Newfoundland,  over  excellent  slate  roads,  and  stop  for  the  night  at  J.  P. 
Brown's  well-kept  hotel,  which  is  usually  crowded  during  the  summer.  If  you  leave  at  8  in  the 
morning,  y^  will  reach  Rodcaway  (30  m.)  at  noon,  easy  riding,  and  can  get  a  good  50  c  dinner  at 
the  hoteldirectly  to  the  r.  after  crossing  the  canal.  There  is  oonsideiable  sand  between  there  and 
Denville,  but  the  side-paths  are  fair ;  and,  by  taking  the  grass  at  side  of  road  between  DenviUe 
and  Fox  Hill,  a  rate  of  6  m.  an  hour  can  be  kept  up,  spite  of  sand  and  stones.  Thence  there  are 
excellent  roads  for  a  part  of  the  way  to  Pine  Brook ;  and  the  rest  is  the  well-known  track.  The 
round  trip  of  85  m.  has  frequently  been  made  in  a  day.  The  side-paths  along  the  banks  of  the 
several  lakes  and  ponds  are  superb.  While  at  Newfoundland,  you  should  spend  an  hour  or  two 
in  visiting  Clifton  Falls  ;  and,  while  you  are  at  the  Government  powder  works,  near  Middle  Foige» 
run  \  m.  1.  and  climb  Picatinny  peak,  the  view  from  whose  top  is  a  grand  oqe.  If  you  leave  wheel 
at  the  roadside  for  i  h.,  the  ascent  and  descent  will  occupy  about  half  the  interval,  and  give  you 
the  other  half  in  which  to  enjoy  the  view." 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS.  171 

crease  in  smoothness  all  the  way  to  the  Jersey  line,  which  I  crossed  at 
8  o'clock  (having  done  the  8|  m.  in  1}  h.)»  and  then  stopped  an  hour  in 
Suffem  for  breakfast  at  the  Eureka  House.  In  spite  of  my  two  detours 
(4  m.),  and  much  longer  general  route,  the  cyclometer  record  to  this  point 
was  not  quite  35  m.,  as  against  the  34^  m.  of  the  party  mentioned  on  p.  169, 
who  continued  straight  on  to  Lake  George,  and  went  thence  to  Pittsfield, 
Springfield,  New  Haven,  Tarrytown  and  New  York,  a  circuit  of  530  m. 

An  interesting  report  of  their  tour  was  printed  in  Bi.  World  (March  13, 
20,  1885,  pp.  332-334,  347),  from  which  I  have  already  quoted,  on  p.  121,  and 
from  which  I  shall  present  other  extracts  in  my  next  chapter.  Their  north- 
ward route  from  Suffem  to  Newburg  (exclusive  of  a  3  m.  detour,  not 
reckoned)  was  identical  with  my  own,  and  measured  33  m.,  while  my 
cyclometer  recorded  less  than  29  m. ;  so  that  my  record  of  lesser  distances 
must  be  taken  with  some  allowance.  I  reached  Newburg  at  4.30  o'clock, 
having  stopped  from  i  to  2  p.  M.  for  an  excellent  dinner  at  Highland  Mills 
Hotel.  The  other  party  had  turned  aside  at  this  point  and  climbed  up  the 
mountain  ij  m.  (riding  part  of  the  way),  in  order  to  spend  the  night  at  the 
Lake  House.  They  there  found  very  fine  views  of  the  lake  and  valley,  as 
well  as  good  food  and  lodging,  and  they  coasted  the  whole  distance  back  to 
Highland  Mills  on  the  morning  following.  "  The  road  from  here  to  New- 
burg," their  report  truly  says,  "  leads  through  scenery  that  will  delight  the 
eye  at  every  turn ;  and  too  much  can  hardly  be  said  in  praise  of  it,  for  no 
dismount  need  be  made  except  at  one  or  two  bad  hills  near  the  end."  My 
own  record  for  the  afternoon  is  that  I  turned  r.  at  the  red  mills,  5  m.  from 
the  hotel;  r.  at  the  railroad,  2  m.;  1.  towards  Cornwall  mills,  and  r.  at 
Merrittville  (VaiPs  Gate),  ij  m. ;  then  1.,  along  a  specially  smooth  surface,  to 
Newburg,  ij  m.  Of  the  forenoon's  ride,  through  the  valley  along  the  Ramapo 
river,  I  should  have  said,  that,  within  \  h.  after  finishing  breakfast  I  traversed , 
the  4  m.  to  Sloatsburg,  on  a  course  whose  surface  suggested  the  ridge-road 
along  Lake  Erie.  I  wheeled  all  the  hills,  including  one  smooth  one  which 
was  difficult  because  of  length,  and  several  short  ones  which  were  difficult 
because  of  roughness.  Between  Southfield  (7  m.)  and  the  iron  works  at 
Greenwood  (3  m.)  and  beyond,  I  found  occasional  stretches  of  sand ;  but  the 
red  clay-gravel  which  forms  the  surface  in  the  region  of  Highland  Mills 
(4  m.)  is  ideal  material  for  road-building.  The  direct  route  thither  appears 
to  be  the  one  leading  r.,  at  the  school-house  which  is  met  soon  after  the 
smooth  surface  begins ;  but  the  proper  path  winds  along  to  the  1.,  and  offers 
a  chance  for  very  swift  riding  to  the  hotel,  and  for  some  miles  beyond,  as  be- 
fore described.  Washington's  Headquarters  should  be  visited  by  every 
patriotic  pilgrim  who  journeys  through  Newburg;  and  the  local  wheelman 
who  escorted  me  thence  to  Poughkeepsie,  next  morning,  was  an  old  soldier 
of  the  civil  war,  who  had  also  served  efficiently,  the  previous  October,  in 
managing  the  citizens'  centennial  celebration  of  that  memorable  day  when 
Washington  proclaimed  at  Newburg  the  formal  recognition  of  our  national 


172 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


independence.  It  was  in  eminent  accordance  with  the  fitness  of  things, 
therefore,  that  our  course  should  lead  "  through  Liberty  st.  to  the  great  balm 
tree  "  (2  m.)»  where  we  turned  up-hill  to  the  r.,  and  made  a  1.  turn  2  m.  on; 
passing  then  through  Marlboro  (4  m.),  Milton  (4  m.)  and  reaching  the  river- 
side ferry  below  Highlands  (5  m),  opposite  Poughkeepsie,  at  10.20  A.  M.,  just 
4  h.  after  starting.  The  final  i^  m.  can  be  continuously  coasted,  on  a  steady 
down-grade,  and  the  whole  road  is  of  average  excellence,  with  some  specially 
fine  stretches,  and  some  specially  attractive  vineyards  alongside  them.  As 
the  road  on  the  e.  side  of  the  river  is  also  good,  and  rather  more  direct,  a 
pleasant  circuit  of  35  to  40  mt  may  be  made  between  Newburg  and  Pough< 
keepsie,  without  repetitions.  My  comrade  had  several  times  measured  it 
with  Ritchie  cyclometer,  and  was  therefore  confident  that  the  distance  we 
traversed  together  was  19  m.,  though  my  own  record  for  the  4  h.  was  2\  m. 
less.  The  rest  of  this  tour  from  Poughkeepsie  on  the  Hudson  to  Springfield 
on  the  Connecticut  (about  130  m.),  may  be  found  reported  on  pp.  146-148, 121. 
My  only  wheeling  in  New  Jersey,  s.  of  Rah  way,  was  on  May  17,  '84,  when 
I  went  from  Hoboken  to  Somerville  (39^  m.,  9.30  a.  m.  to  7  P.  M.),  and  May  18, 
when  I  went  thence  to  Philadelphia  (61  m.,  5.40  A.  M.  to  640  p.  m).  A  Star  rider 
of  Elizabeth,  whose  day/s  journeys  between  there  and  the  Water  Gap  are  re- 
ported elsewhere  in  this  chapter  (p.  164),  accompanied  me  thence  to  Westfield 
(5^  m.)  and  Plainfield  (4}  m.),  though  we  were  z\  h.  on  the  way.  A  better 
route  from  Newark  is  said  to  be  by  the  macadam  to  Milburn,  5^  m.  (p.  174), 
sidewalk  thence  i  m.  to  Springfield,  poor  and  sandy  roads  thence  6}  m.  to  Scotch 
Plains,  and  z\  m.  of  level  sidewalks  straight  to  Plainfield.  I  was  f  h.  in  riding 
thence  to  Dunellen,  3  m.,  and  1}  h.  more  in  reaching  Moore's  County  Hotel 
in  Somerville,  where  I  stopped  for  the  night.  About  half-way  between 
these  two  places  I  passed  through  Bound  Brook  (whence  to  New  Brunswick, 
6  m.,  the  tow-path  supplies  good  riding, — p.  167),  and  I  thence  went  due  w.  to 
the  end.  When  I  started  next  morning,  I  turned  1.  at  the  hotel,  and  rode  5} 
m.  in  3^  h.,  for  my  first  dismount.  The  road  had  been  a  winding  one,  and  its 
signs  had  mostly  pointed  to  "  Wood's  Tavern,'*  though  I  am  not  aware  that  I 
ever  reached  any  such  point.  When  I  mounted  again,  I  turned  1.,  and  fol- 
lowed the  telegraph  poles  i  m.  to  "  the  brick  house," — the  only  one  in  that 
region, — and  there  turned  1.  down  the  street  which  it  faces,  to  the  white 
church  and  cross-roads  at  iiarlingen,  4  m.  I  might  have  turned  here  to  r., 
but  I  did  turn  to  1.,  and  rode  up  a  big  hill  beyond.  After  crossing  the  r.  r. 
at  a  creamery  station  called  Venaken  (i^  m.),  whose  name  seemed  unfamiliar 
to  the  people  whom  I  questioned,  I  ought  to  have  twisted  around  to  the  r., 
but  I  kept  straight  along  to  the  first  road  turning  squarely  to  the  r.,  and  on 
this  I  was  forced  to  do  my  first  walking  of  the  day, — about  \  m.  of  sandy  up- 
grade. Then  I  turned  1.  on  the  main  road«  down  which  I  should  have  come 
if  I  had  turned  r.  at  either  Harlingen  or  Venaken ;  conquered  the  cemetery 
hill  at  Blawenburg,  which  was  a  difficult  one,  and  turned  r.  for  the  Stoutsburg 
Hotel,  where  I  halted  i^  h.  for  breakfast.    For  some  miles  below  here,  the 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS.  173 

road  is  betwen  parallel  ranges  of  mountains,  though  not  very  near  them. 
Pennington,  23^  m.  from  the  start,  was  reached,  at  11,  and  the  bridge  over  the 
Delaware  at  Trenton  (9  m.),  2  h.  later.  Then  followed  9  m.  of  very  pleasant 
riding,  much  of  it  on  sidewalks  and  along  the  river,  to  Bristol,  where  I  took  ferry 
across  to  New  Jersey  again.  Beyond  Beverly  (4  m.),  I  turned  I.,  passed  the 
cemetery  on  1.,  and,  after  some  walking  through  the  sand,  reached  the  Camden 
turnpike,  which  extends  in  a  bee-line  towards  Philadelphia,  over  a  succession 
of  low  hills.  I  walked  up  many  of  these,  owing  to  the  softness  of  the  surface, 
though  the  down-grades  were  mostly  ridable,  and  reached  the  ferry  at  6.20 
p.  M.,  a  little  less  than  60  m.  from  the  start.  I  was  delayed  here  a  long  time  in 
crossing  and  getting  supper  (for  I  had  had  no  food  since  finishing  breakfast 
at  9),  and  then  wheeled  or  walked  in  the  gaslight  along  Market  st.,  which  had 
a  new  stone  pavement  like  that  of  Broadway,  to  the  Bingham  House,  where 
the  cyclometer  showed  the  mileage  of  my  new  wheel,  measuring  the  distance 
from  Hartford,  to  be  just  *'  234." 

When  next  I  entered  New  Jersey,  by  crossing  the  river  from  Easton  to 
PbiUipsburg,  at  5  a.  m.  of  June  5,  the  cyclometer  registered  828  m.,  representing 
a  continuous  circuit,  which  had  extended  as  far  s.  as  the  Luray  Cave,  in  Vir- 
ginia.   Two  members  of  the  Lafayette  College  Bicycle  Club  met  me  at  the 
United  States  Hotel,  that  morning,  and  piloted  me  to  the  proper  point  for  tak- 
ing the  tow-path,  about  i  m.  from  the  bridge.    After  7  m.  of  rather  rough 
riding  on  this,  I  had  a  fall,  by  letting  my  wheel  get  into  a  hole  in  the  grassy 
edge  of  the  path, — my  only  previous  fall  with  "  No.  234,  Jr.,"  having  hap- 
pened 510  m.  previously,  on  the  21st  of  May.    My  companion  also  took  a 
plunge  down  the  bank,  by  reason  of  the  sudden  snapping  of  his  left  handle- 
bar; but  he  then  rode  without  a  dismount  for  2\  m.,  or  until  we  left  the  tow- 
path,  though  the  surface  of  this  was  so  rough  that  I  thought  it  barely  ridable, 
even  with  both  handles  in  proper  condition.    After  halting  i  h.  20  min.  for 
breakfast  at  the  St.  Cloud  Hotel  in  Washington  (16  m.  from  Easton),  I  started 
on  alone,  at  9,10,  and  took  the  tow-path  again  by  turning  1.  just  before  reach- 
ing the  r.  r.  bridge.    I  rode  as  fast  as  I  could,  with  few  dismounts,  to  the 
store  opposite  Hackettstown  (10  m.  in  i^  h.),  for  the  surface  was  fairly  good, — 
much  smoother  than  the  section  nearer  Easton, — and  I  was  assured  by  the 
canal  men  that  it  continued  equally  ridable  as  far  as  Dover.    My  previous 
trial  of  a  few  miles  of  this,  between  Waterloo  and  Stanhope  (Sept  24,  '80) 
bad  not  been  a  happy  one,  however,  and  so  I  exchanged  the  path  for  the  high- 
way through  Hackettstown  to  the  top  of  Schooley*s  Mountain  (6  m.),  where  I 
stood  on  the  stroke  of  noon,  at  the  entrance  to  the  grounds  of  a  summer  hotel 
called  Belmont  Hall,  after  having  done  about  i  m.  of  walking,  on  the  up- 
grades, which  were  generally  shaded.    The  descent  of  2\  m.  to  German  Valley 
was  a  rough  one,  which  required  }  h. ;  and  the  5  m.  thence  to  Chester  led  along 
hilly  roads  which  had  been  recently  "  worked."    After  halting  \  h.  for  dinner, 
I  proceeded  onward  to  Mendham  (5}  m.  in  i  h.)  and,  5  m.  beyond  there,  reached 
the  limit  of  my  previous  rides  w.  from  Morristown.    Here  began  the  good  rid- 


174 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ing  of  the  day,  and  I  sped  along  to  Madison  without  a  stop ;  thence  more 
slowly  through  Chatham  and  Short  Hills  to  the  well-known  macadam  of 
Springfield  av.,  62  m.  and  14  h.  from  the  start.  At  Irvington,  5  m.,  I  turned 
1.  down  Clinton  av.,  and  found  good  macadam  nearly  all  the  way  to  its  end 
(2  m.),  a  little  ways  from  St.  Stephens  church,  in  Newark,  and  quite  near  the 
fire-engine  house,  at  the  head  of  Frelinghuysen  av.  Two  blocks  beyond  the 
end  of  Clinton  av.  I  turned  1.  into  High  St.,  and  rode  along  it  in  the  dark  to 
Central  av.,  whence  I  walked  to  the  corner  of  Broad  and  Bridge  sts.,  and  left 
my  wheel  there  at  Oraton  Hall  (Z.  &  S.),  at  8  o'clock, — the  day*s  record  of 
the  cyclometer  being  almost  72  m. 

I  thus  finished  a  20  days'  circuit  of  765  m.,  which  had  extended  through 
a  half-dozen  States;  and  this  final  pull,  across  the  hills  and  sands  of 
New  Jersey,  was  the  longest  and  most  difficult  day's  journey  of  all.  I 
completed  then  a  twelve  months'  record  of  4*337  m.,  and  I  do  not  sup- 
pose it  will  ever  again  be  my  good  fortune  to  enjoy  so  vast  and  varied  an 
amount  of  wheeling  within  so  brief  a  period.  More  than  fourteen  weeks 
elapsed  before  I  next  mounted  a  bicycle,  and  took  the  five  days'  September 
tour  described  on  pp.  169-172,  146-148,  X2i ;  and  my  only  later  experience  on 
the  Jersey  hills  was  near  the  close  of  the  following  month  (Oct.  19,  ^84),  when 
I  accepted  a  friend's  invitation  to  accompany  him  on  a  visit  to  the  "  basaltic 
columns," — ^though,  as  I  was  forced  to  ride  one  of  his  50-in.  machines,  I  did 
not  venture  to  follow  his  example  when  he  coasted  down  therefrom,  for  nearly 
I  m.,  along  Mt.  Pleasant  av.^    This  extends  w.  from  the  Valley  road,  at  a 


^  A  good  picture  of  the  columns  (Julius  Bien's  lithographic  reproduction  of  photographs 
taken  by  H.  J.  Brady,  of  Orange)  is  given  for  the  frontispiece  of  the  "  Report  for  1884  of  the 
State  Geologist,*'  Professor  Geoige  H.  Cook,  who  says  that  "  an  excursion  to  the  basaltic  col- 
umns  at  Orange,  and  across  the  mountain  and  valley  beyond,  is  full  of  interesting  material ;  and 
the  view  from  th«  top  of  the  mountain  is  one  of  the  finest  on  the  contiiient."  I  quote  die  fol- 
lowing from  his  Report,  pp.  as,  23  :  "  The  remarkably  fine  exposure  of  columnar  tmp4fxxk  at 
the  quarry  of  Mr.  John  O'Rourke,  on  the  southeastern  slope  of  Orange  Mountain,  has  attracted 
a  good  deal  of  public  attention  during  the  last  few  months.  The  rock  is  the  same  with  that 
which  forms  the  crest  of  each  of  the  three  ranges  of  the  Watchung  mountains.  The  fine  edu> 
bition  which  is  made  at  this  place  is  due  to  the  work  of  Mr.  O'Rourke  in  first  clearing  away  the 
loose  rock  and  debris  from  the  front  and  surface  of  the  ledge  of  trap4fxxk,  and  then  working  in, 
as  he  has  had  occasion  to  do,  in  getting  out  his  road-making  material,  until  he  has  exposed  a  ver- 
tical face  of  the  rock,  which  is  700  ft.  long,  and  100  ft.  high  in  the  middle,  and  30  ft.  high  atone 
end,  and  about  ao  ft.  at  the  other.  The  whole  of  this  rock  surface  which  Is  in  sight  is  made  up 
of  prismatic  columns  as  regular  in  their  form  as  if  they  had  been  dressed  out  by  a  stone-cutter, 
and  packed  together  so  closely  that  there  are  no  vacant  spaces  or  openings  between  them.  The 
columns  generally  are  parallel  to  each  other,  and  those  at  the  two  ends  of  the  quarry  are  nearly 
perpendicular,  but  the  large  and  high  mass  in  the  middle  b  made  up  of  prisms,  whidi  are  in- 
clined at  various  angles,  generally  in  a  direction  towards  a  central  line.  The  work  which  has 
been  done  in  quarrying  here  has  exposed  the  structure  of  this  mountain  rock,  so  that  it  is  in  ad- 
mirable condition  for  study,  better^  probably,  than  it  can  be  found  anywhere  else  in  the  State, 
and  it  is  more  easily  accessible  than  any  other  in  our  country,  so  that  it  has  already  been  seen  by 
thousands  of  visitors.  The  view  in  the  frontispieoe  is  taken  when  looking  towards  the  n.  w. ,  and 
is  near  enough  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  to  show  its  crest  line,  with  the  ookunoa  CTtewling  all 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  175 

point  a  little  below  Llewellyn  Park  and  a  little  above  the  terminus  of  Maiir 
St,  in  Orange,  and  most  of  the  ascent  is  ridable.  Beyond  the  quarry  where 
the  columns  are,  it  bisects  Prospect  av.,  a  2-m.  stretch  of  macadam,  on  the 
crest  of  the  mountain,  connecting  the  Eagle  Rock  road  on  the  n.  (p.  161)  with 
the  Northfield  road  on  the  s.  (p.  163) ;  and  about  i  m.  further,  it  reaches  the 
dirt  or  gravel  road,  extending  through  the  lowlands  from  the  macadam  of 
Verona  (n.)  to  that  of  Milburn  (s.)»  a  distance  of  about  10  m.  I  take  these 
facts  from  Wood's  road-book,  whose  excellent  '*  map  of  the  Orange  riding  dis- 
trict **  (scale  3  m.  to  I  in.)  gives  a  clear  idea  of  routes  in  the  entire  "  triangle  " 
described  by  me  on  p.  160.  I  see  by  this,  also,  that  a  smooth  connection 
(macadam  and  side-paths)  between  S.  Orange  av.  and  Springfield  av.  is  sup- 
plied by  Valley  st,  which  is  parallel,  on  the  e.  of  the  railway,  to  the  rather 
rough  prolongation  of  the  Valley  road,  described  on  p.  160.  The  map  fails, 
however,  to  exhibit  Clinton  av.,  which  is  the  best  connection  between  Irving- 
ton  and  Newark,  because  the  stones  of  the  city-end  of  Springfield  av.  may  be 
thereby  avoided.  It  is  specially  to  be  recommended  to  riders  from  Elizabeth 
who  may  wish  to  go  to  Milburn  or  Morristown,  because  it  ends  quite  near  the 
head  of  Frelinghuysen  av. ;  and  thb  "  now  affords  an  unbroken  stretch  of 
level  macadam,  3}  m.  long."  These  are  the  words  of  an  Elizabeth  writer  who 
published  his  rejoicings  (May,  '85)  over  the  recent  removal  of  the  last  of  the 
Nicholson  pavement,  and  at  the  same  time  announced  the  intention  of  the 
local  bicycle  club  to  lay  wooden  gutter-bridges  at  the  crossings  of  the  city's 
main  thoroughfares,  so  that  its  sidewalks  may  be  followed  continuously,  with- 
out the  need  of  dismounting  at  the  curbs. 


the  wzj  up.  At  the  bottom  the  oolumna  appear  to  run  down  to  the  level  surface  which  is  kept 
for  the  amvenient  working  of  the  quarry.  In  realitj  they  do  extend  down  6  or  8  ft.  below  the 
lerel  of  the  woildng  ground,  and  stand  upon  the  red  sandstone  rock  which  everywhere  under- 
lies this  trap.  The  perpendicular  colunuia  at  the  left  hand  or  s.  w.  end  of  the  quany  are  30  ft 
or  more  in  height,  and  are  5  or  6  sided,  some  of  the  ndes  being  as  much  as  a^  ft.  in  width. 
Those  at  the  right  hand  or  n.  e.  end  of  the  quarry  are  shorter,  15  to  ao  ft.  in  height,  and  a  little 
indined.  They  are  larger,  however,  than  the  others,  some  of  them  having  sides  4  ft.  wide. 
These  very  large  columns  are  scnne  of  them  bent  near  the  top,  turning  off  towards  the  left,  and 
presenting  the  appearance  of  having  been  crooked  after  they  were  formed,  and  while  still  soft 
and  flexible.  The  surface  of  most  of  the  large  columns  are  marked  as  if  they  were  regularly 
laid  up  in  courses  like  bricks  in  a  building.  These  courses  are  about  as  thick  as  common  bricks, 
and  have  about  the  same  inequality  or  unevenness  of  surface  that  buildings  of  brick  have." 

New  Jersey  has  the  honor  of  being  the  best-mapped  State  in  the  Union ;  and,  as  the  firet 
words  of  this  chapter,  written  two  years  ago,  gave  praise  to  the  first  fruito  of  the  Sute  Geological 
Survey,  ao  now  at  the  end,  I  gladly  give  place  to  extracts  from  its  latest  o6kial  Report,  showing 
the  more  recent  progress  of  an  enterprise  in  which  every  intelligent  Jerseyman  ought  to  feel  a 
personal  pride.  Within  three  years  from  now,  the  prospective  tourist  will  be  enabled  to  study 
the  entire  surface  of  the  State  by  charts  of  the  same  scale  and  character  as  the  one  described  on 
pi  IS9,  but  of  the  more  convenient  size  of  34  by  34  in.  Julius  Bten  &.  Co.,  of  this  dty,  are  to  be 
aooedited  with  the  careful  and  attractive  lithography  of  the  map,  which,  "  as  far  as  done,  meeto 
with  the  heauty  approval  of  all  who  have  seen  it " ;  and  the  power  of  a  good  example  is  notaUy 
shown  m  the  fact  (which  is  specially  significant  and  encouraging  for  wheelmen)  that,  "  since  thr 
nap  was  begun,  a  number  of  other  States  have  organized  surveys  for  similar  maps  of  their  te 


176  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

titorjr."  This  oflSdal  "  Atlas  ol  New  Jersey  "  (on  a  scale  of  i  m.  to  i  in.,  with  contour  lines 
showing  every  rise  of  so  ft.  elevation  in  the  billy  parts  of  the  State,  and  every  rise  of  10  ft.  eleva- 
tion in  the  more  level  parts)  is  to  consist  of  17  sheets,  27  by  37  in.,  intended  to  fold  once  across, 
making  the  leaves  of  the  atlas  18^  by  27  in.  The  location  and  number  of  each  sheet  is  shown 
by  a  reference  map  (20  m.  to  i  in.)  printed  on  the  paper  cover  of  the  atlas ;  and  another  map  of 
the  entire  State  (5  m.  to  i  in.)  is  to  be  added,  on  a  sheet  27  by  37  in.  The  apparent  overlapping 
of  the  adjacent  rectangles  of  the  atlas  does  not  imply  an  increase  of  engraving,  as  the  printing  is 
not  done  directly  from  the  engraved  stones,  but  from  transfers,  which  can  be  joined  together  in 
any  way  that  may  be  required.  In  like  manner,  any  two  adjoining  sheets  can  be  cut  and  fitted 
accurately  to  each  other  to  form  a  single  map.  Nos.  i,  2,  3  and  4  cover  all  the  Arduean  and 
Paleozoic  rocks ;  2,  3  and  4  cover  all  the  Archaean  and  all  the  iron  ore  district ;  5,  6,  7  and  8 
cover  tV  red  sandstone  formation ;  8  and  9,  with  10,  i  z  and  is  cover  the  clay  and  mari  districts ; 

9,  13,  16  and  17  cover  the  entire  Atlantic  shore.  Nos.  3,  4  and  7  were  issued  in  March,  1884 ; 
a,  16,  and  17  in  March,  1885 ;  i,  9,  13  and  17  will  be  ready  by  the  end  of  '8$  ;  and  8,  11,  12,  5, 

10,  14  and  15  will  follow,  probably,  during  '86,  '87  and  '88.  The  Survey's  annual  report  for  '82 
was  accompanied  by  a  geological  map  of  New  Jersey  (6  m.  to  i  in.),  revised  up  to  that  date; 
and  its  latest  corrections  were  named  as  "  additional  railroads,  minor  improvements  in  geological 
ctdoring,  new  places  on  the  sea-shore  and  the  life-saving  stations."  The  State  Topographer, 
C  Clarkson  Vermeule,  reports  that  the  season's  work  of  '84  included  the  survey  of  1,582  sq.  m., 
nuking  the  whole  area  surveyed  4,438  sq.  m.,  and  as  the  whole  State  is  estimated  to  contain 
7,576  sq.  m.,  it  may  be  said  that  the  work  is  now  completed  over  |  of  its  area, — by  far  the  rough- 
est and  most  difficult  part  of  the  State  to  survey.  "  The  expenses  are  kept  strictly  within  the 
annual  appropriation  of  $8,000.  The  results  of  the  Survey  are  intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  citi- 
zens of  the  State ;  and  application  for  its  publications  may  be  made  to  any  member  of  the  board 
of  managers."  A  final  extract  will  serve  to  show  the  progress  and  prospects  of  road-4:ecofding 
on  a  broader  field :  "  The  United  States  Geological  Survey,  Major  J,  W.  Powell,  director,  is 
engaged  in  preparing  a  topographical  and  geological  map  of  the  United  States.  Work  is  being 
done  for  this  purpose,  by  it,  in  Va.,  N.  C,  Ky.  and  Tenn.,  and  to  some  extent  in  several  of  the 
other  States.  In  Mass.  the  legislature  has  joined  with  the  U.  S.  Survey  in  making  a  detailed 
topographical  survey  and  map  of  that  State  on  about  the  same  scale  as  ours  in  N.  J.,  each  of  the 
parties  paying  one-half  of  the  expense.  In  our  State,  where  the  survey  had  at  that  time  already 
extended  over  about  half  its  area,  the  U.  S.  Survey  proposed  to  pay  the  further  expenses  for 
completing  the  field  work  and  mapping  of  the  remainder  of  the  State ;  they  being  allowed  to  take 
copies  of  the  maps  which  were  already  completed,  and  we  being  allowed  to  make  copies  of  the 
remainder  of  the  maps,  which  are  to  be  prepared  at  their  expense.  They  proposed  also  to  take 
into  their  employment  the  same  persons  who  had  been  up  to  that  time  engaged  in  our  survey. 
They  only  asked  that  we  allow  them  the  use  of  our  instruments  for  carrying  on  the  work.  This 
arrangement,  being  plainly  advantageous  to  both  parties,  was  entered  upon  on  July  15, 1884,  and 
is  working  satisfactorily.  It  relieves  the  funds  of  the  State  Geological  Survey  from  the  burden 
of  expense  involved  in  carrying  on  the  topographical  survey,  and  will  enable  it  to  follow  up  in 
detail  the  work  for  which  the  topographical  maps  furnish  the  necessary  basis." 

Even  without  its  aulmirable  official  atlas,  which  would  alone  entitle  it  to  pre-eminence,  I 
suppose  New  Jersey  could  still  be  called  our  "  best  mapped  State  " ;  for  I  know  of  no  other  that 
has  been  so  often  selected  for  treatment  by  the  makers  of  private  maps.  A  Philadelphia  firm, 
E.  W.  Smith  &  Co.,  20  S.  6th  st.  (formerly  Smith  &  Stroup,  52  N.  6th  st.)  issue  the  largest  one  I 
have  seen  (1884,  6  by  4  ft.,  2^  m.  to  i  in.,  townships  in  different  tints,  and  county  lines  in  red), 
with  the  title  "  a  topographical  map  of  New  Jersey,  from  actual  surveys  and  official  records  by 
G.  W.  Bromley  &  Co.,  civil  engineers."  Statistics  of  the  census,  1870-80,  occupy  an  upper  ow- 
ner which  is  practically  a  blank  quarter-section  of  the  map,  and  the  other  three*quariers  (32  by  20 
in.  each),  distinguished  as  thfe  northern,  middle  and  southern  sections,  have  been  printed  on  pardi* 
ment  paper,  and  folded  in  pocket-covers,  by  special  contract  with  the  New  Jersey  Division  of 
the  League.  The  whole  map,  cloth  backed,  is  supplied  by  the  publishers  for  $10,  either  moonted 
on  rdllers  for  the  wall,  or  dissected  and  folded  in  a  case  for  carriage  use ;  but  any  one  of  the  three 


"^■■'"''.o,,, 


178  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

is  }  in.  thidE,  we%hs  6  oc,  and  sells  for  %\.  Orders  hj  mail  dxNild  be  addressed  to  Mr.  Aaron, 
Box  916,  Philadelphia ;  and  all  sales  of  the  bocdc  will  aocme  to  the  benefit  of  the  Division,  as  the 
lade  of  oonqiilation  was  asswmrd  puxel j  as  a  labor  of  love.  The  routes  are  all  tabulated  in  uni- 
form style,  and  numbered  i  to  46,  with  variations  A,  B,  C,  t  A,  a  B»  and  the  like,  so  that  the  list 
of  them  covers  4  pp.,  and  the  amount  of  roadway  reported  upon  (exclusive  of  dnpHcations)  ex- 
ceeds 8,000  m.  The  reading  matter  is  in  fine  type,  distributed  as  foUows :  Preface,  i  p. ;  Penn- 
sylvania topography,  a  pp. ;  Philadelphia  tv&d%  district,  3  pp. ;  general  review,  i  p. ;  railroad 
transportation,  with  alphabetical  list  of  the  "free  "  roads,  e.  of  Buffalo,  1  p. ;  consuls,  hotels 
and  repair  shops  in  Petm.  and  N.  J.,  3  pp.;  executive  officers  of  the  two  Divisions,  with 
abstracts  of  their  rales,  a  pp. ;  objects  and  methods  of  the  L.  A.  W.,  a  pp.;  odds  and 
ends,  I  p. ;  N.  J.  index  (references  for  250  towns),  3  pp. ;  Penn.  index  (references  for 
525  towns),  5  pp. ;  N.  Y.  index  (references  to  325  towns),  2  pp.  Massachusetts  index 
(61  references)  and  misceDaneous  index  (8x  references)  i  p.  This  makes  a  total  of  nearly 
1,150  towns,  whose  situations  on  the  no  ''routes"  (each  averaging  100  m.  long)  can  be 
at  once  referred  to,  and  it  is  the  best  piece  of  indexing  yet  given  to  the  subject  of  Ameri- 
can roads.  I  have  already  commended  the  maps  of  the  "  Change  riding  district "  (p.  175)  and 
"  Staten  Island  "  (p.  158),  which  are  on  the  same  leaf  (6|  by  3^  in.) ;  and  I  should  presume  that 
the  "  map  of  the  Philadelphia  riding  district,"  covering  a  whole  leaf  of  that  size,  and  having  a 
scale  of  3  m.  to  I  in.  would  be  equally  valuable  to  every  wheelman  residing  in  or  visiting  that 
city.  "  Long  Island,"  on  a  scale  of  10  m.  to  i  in.,  shows  clearly  the  general  relations  of  the 
roads  there  which  I  have  described  on  pp.  150-155.  The  xamz  elaborate  State  maps  (N.  J.,  ao 
m.  to  I  in.  and  Penn.,  35  m.  to  i  in.)  attempt  to  g^ve  nothing  but  the  roads  described  in  the 
"  routes,"  and  therefore  show  at  a  glance  those  parts  of  the  country  which  have  been  most  thor- 
oughly explored  by  wheelmen.  Each  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  a  very  valuable  index  to  the 
study  of  lai^ger  maps  of  the  same  State,  and  each,"  having  been  photographically  reduced  from  laige 
and  accurate  tracings  "  (made  by  the  compiler,  whose  profession  is  that  of  civil  engineer),  can 
be  depended  upon,  "  even  in  scale  measurements  within  the  possibilities  of  reading."  Except 
for  eyes  possessed  of  perfect  vision,  these  "  possibilities  "  are  somewhat  limited,  owing  to  the  mi- 
croscopic lettering  necessarily  used  in  bringing  the  maps  within  the  size  of  the  .page ;  but,  as  a 
vast  majority  of  wheelmen  are  young  and  clear-^hted,  this  will  not  be  a  practical  obstacle 
to  the  usefulness  of  the  charfs.  They  are  really  marvels  of  intelligent  condensation,  and  they  in- 
stantly give  to  a  long-distanoe  tourist  incomparably  more  knowledge  of  roads  "  to  the  square  inch 
of  printed  surface  "  than  anything  else  in  America  upon  which  he  can  set  his  eyes.  The  com- 
piler of  this  book  has  performed  a  great  service  for  the  cause  of  wheeling,  both'^in  the  immedi- 
ate value  of  his  work  as  a  help  to  tourists ;  in  its  inddentiU  effect  of  convincing  the  ignorant,  the 
indifferent  and  the  dissatisfied  that  the  League  is  a  definite  power  for  good ;  and  in  its  ultimate 
influence  upon  the  future  compilers  of  the  books  of  other  Divisions.  A  high  example  of  excel- 
lence has  now  been  set,  by  which  later  works  will  be  relentlessly  compared  and  judged.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  other  consuls  of  the  League  may  improve  upon  the  pattern  of  this  one ;  but  to 
him  will  remain  the  credit  of  having  established  a  respectable  pattern  whose  existence  must  prove 
a  check  to  the  production  of  slip-shod  and  careless  compilations  as  representative  books  of  the 
League,  The  suggestion  that  all  of  these  should  adopt  the  same  size  of  page,  in  order  that 
electrotypes  may  be  exchanged  for  use  in  the  publications  of  the  various  Divisions,  ought  cer- 
tainly to  be  obeyed. 

By  way  of  encouraging  another  "  good  example,"  of  quite  a  different  sort,  I  will  add 
to  my  list  of  Jersey  maps  a  little  one  (2^  m.  to  x  in.)  that  covera  a  circular  tract  of  la  m.  di- 
ameter, on  the  Delaware  river,  and  that  is  freely  distributed  on  a  fly-leaf  as  an  advertisement  of 
the  Moortstown  Chronicle ^  "  the  only  newspaper  published  within  the  radius  of  6  m.  from 
Moorestown,"  which  village  serves,  of  course,  as  the  center  of  the  chart.  The  map  b  divided 
into  m.-cirdes,  and  gives  a  plain  showing  of  all  the  roads ;  and  I  recommend  other  local  news- 
papers to  issue  similar  ones,  as  an  inexpensive  scheme  for  keeping  their  names  near  to  the  heart 
of  the  bicydei^— as  near,  at  least,  as  the  breast-pocket  of  his  riding-jacket  1 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.' 

This  title  is  designed  to  cover  the  report  of  my  entire  August  touring  of 
4:5  m^  distributed  through  eighteen  different  days  and  four  different  States ; 
for  though  it  began  >nd  ended  in  regions  far  removed  from  Lake  George,  the 
lake  was  my  chief  objective  point,  and  the  title  will  help  fix  the  attention  at 
those  who  were  interested  in  "  W.  G.  £.'s"  account  of  a  July  pilgtimage 
thilher,  as  presented  in  the  Si.  World  of  August  5. 

On  the  second  day  of  the  month  I  tookmy  machine  out  of  the  manufactory 
in  HaJ^ord.  where  it  had  had  an  eight  weeks'  rest  to  recover  from  the  vio' 
lent  surgical  operation  implied  in  receiving  a  new  backbone,  and  started  to 
drive  it  up  the  valley,  spile  of  the  liquefying  stickiness  of  the  weather.  Be- 
fore reaching  Springfield,  however,  in  whose  neighborhood  I  intended  to  take 
a  three-weeks'  outing,  a  sand-gully  in  the  sidewalk  caused  a  sudden  stop, 
■hen,  rather  than  save  my  wheel  by  taking  the  risks  of  a  header,  I  thought 
to  save  my  bacon  by  reaotting  to  what  Telzah  calls  "  a  backer  " ;  in  other 
words,  instead  of  pitching  ahead  and  letting  the  machine  fall  on  top  of  me,  I 
JDHiped  back  and  then  tumbled  violently  forward  on  top  of  it.  As  a  result, 
the  driver  was  sprung  sidewise  about  an  inch  out  of  the  true,  and  the  little 
wheel  was  made  to  interfere  with  it  by  about  that  interval,  while  the  right 
oank  was  loosened  on  the  axle,  the  latter  mishap  being  one  that  never  befell 
me  before.  With  the  aid  of  a  convenient  boy,  I  pulled  the  concern  into  rid- 
able shape  again  and  meandered  on.  The  yawning  rents  in  my  breeches 
■ere  concealed  by  the  friendly  approach  of  dusk,  and  by  the  fact  that  they 
bore  no  hue  to  contrast  them  with  the  drawers  beneath.  Another  argument 
for  always  touring  in  white  t 

On  the  i8th  of  August,!  rode  back  to  Hartford,  starting  at  5  in  the 
morning,  with  a  threatening  n.  e.  wind  behind  me.  At  the  end  of  1  m.  I  had 
of  course  to  walk  up  the  church  hill  in  West  Springfield,  but  from  there  rode 


i8o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

start ;  time,  i  J  h.^  On  top  of  a  hill,  4  m.  or  more  beyond,  is  a  white  school- 
house,  where  one  turns  into  a  lane  leading  e.  and  down  to  the  river  bank  at 
the  head  of  the  canal.  This  was  exactly  11  m.from  the  start,  and  was  reached 
at  7  o'clock.  With  the  wind  helping  me,  I  rode  along  the  embankment  with- 
out stop  to  the  bridge,  2 J  m.,  and  then  2  m.  more  to  the  end  at  Windsor  Locks, 
where  I  stopped  \  h.  for  breakfast  At  8.30  I  reached  the  r.  r.  crossing,  and 
knowing  the  next  2  m.  of  highway  to  be  poor,  I  was  tempted  to  try  the  hard 
gravel  between  the  tracks.  Riding  along  it  for  J  m.,  I  was  forced  to  walk  the 
remaining  ij  m.  to  Hayden*s  station,  at  which  point  the  highway,  or  the  side- 
walk thereof,  becomes  good  again.  Soon  after  this,  the  heavy  mist  of  early 
morning  grew  into  unmistakable  rain,  and  the  red  clay  roads  of  that  region, 
by  no  means  bad  in  dry  weather,  grew  unridable.  So  I  kept  the  sidewalks 
pretty  continuously  during  the  1}  h.  spent  between  Hayden's  and  the  Weed 
Sewing  Machine  Company's  works  in  Hartford,  10  m.,— ending  my  journey 
at  10.45  o'clock,  28  m.  from  the  start.    The  worst  part  of  it  all  was  the  final 

^I  have  made  a  similar  remark  on  p.  xaa,  as  to  the  need  of  taking  the  river  road,  betimen 
the  distillery  and  the  South  bridge,  in  case  the  dty  is  to  be  entered  or  left  in  that  way ;  but  some 
Springfield  riders  have  lately  told  me«  that  the  best  way  to  get  between  those  points  without  dis- 
mount is  to  go  directly  w.  from  the  bridge  by  a  smooth  road  of  red  clay  to  the  main  street  in 
Agawam.  In  riding  along  this  to  the  n.,  the  proper  point  to  turn  e.  for  the  bridge,  is  about  \ 
m.  above  the  brick  building  on  r.  which  serves  as  a  tovi-n  hall  and  school  house.  The  road  turns 
squarely  to  the  r.  between  two  houses,  and  is  not  specially  prominent,  though  the  presenoe  of 
large  trees  outside  the  fence  may  help  to  fix  th£  place  of  it  Upon  the  same  p.  ua  is  described 
my  latest  ride  to  Hartford,  showing  that  I  might  better  have  kept  the  highway  instead  of  resort- 
ing to  the  canal  path,  and  that  "  the  bad  miles  below  the  r.  r.  crossing  "  have  been  so  improved 
within  recent  years  that  they  may  now  be  easily  covered  without  dismount.  The  canal  path  was 
the  scene  of  all  my  earlier  rides,  above  Windsor  Locks,  because  it  had  always  seemed  very 
smooth  and  inviting  when  I  had  inspected  it  from  the  railway  bridge  above,— *where  the  windows 
of  the  passing  trains  had  many  times  given  me  tempting  views  of  the  rocky  shallows  of  the  river, 
the  wooded  island,  the  symmetrical  slopes  of  the  curving  canal-bank,  and  the  old  brown  bridge  far 
to  the  north.  As  boats  no  longer  ply  upon  the  canal,  which  is  now  merely  a  feeder  for  the  mills, 
no  dismounts  are  forced  by  canal  teams ;  and  the  fact  of  my  ability  to  wheel  along  this  4-4n. 
level  with  no  other  stop  than  the  one  required  by  the  bridge  spanning  the  waste-weir  which  bi- 
sects it,  shows  that  it  is  fairly  ridable.  In  some  parts  the  ruts  of  the  wagon  wheels,  or  the  horse* 
path  between  them,  must  be  followed ;  and  the  over-growing  grass  occasionally  makes  such 
following  difficult.  Powdered  stone  and  gravelly  red-<:lay  form  the  basis  of  the  path ;  and  a 
little  additional  wagon-traffic  would  grind  it  to  the  ideal  smoothness  which  is  characteristic  of 
much  of  the  roadway  that  runs  parallel  to  it  along  the  ridge  about  |  m.  to  the  w.  A  fine  out- 
look across  the  river  may  be  had  along  that  ridge,  and  it  is  undoubtedly  the  preferable  course 
for  a  tourist  who  wishes  to  go  up  the  valley  in  the  easiest  and  swiftest  way.  Such  a  one  should 
turn  w.  just  above  the  r.  r.  station  in  Windsor  Locks,  then  ride  up-hill  to  Uie  n.^  and  afterwards 
bear  w.  and  n.  across  a  covered  bridge.  The  canal  path,  winding  along  the  river  side,  has  its 
own  quiet  beauties,  however,  which  will  repay  an  occasional  trial  of  it  by  those  who  are  familiar 
with  the  other  routes.  It  is  the  longest  canal  in  Connecticut,— indeed,  the  only  one  now  holding 
water ;  and  it  is  possible  that  my  partiality  for  it  may  have  been  unconsdonsly  increased  by  the 
fact  of  a  rasping  family  tradition  that  a  grand&ither  of  mine  sunk  "  a  right  smart  of  money  '* 
when  he  took  the  contract  for  building  that  same  four-mile  embankment,  some  sixty  years  ago. 
Anyhow,  an  occasional  resort  to  it  for  bicycling  purposes  seems  to  be  the  only  practicable  show  I 
have  for  ever  getting  even  so  much  as  a  smell  of  my  "  undivided  share  "  in  the  lost  iaberitance ! 


LAKh  <^J.:J'\.t   /..h  ////    ///, 


i82  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

which  includes  the  city  of  Springfield,  I  need  only  add,  as  a  final  attraction, 
that  he  will  thus  have  the  felicity  of  passing  in  front  of  the  house  where  I  was 
bom,  "  so  many  years  ago.*'  The  place  is  rendered  otherwise  remarkable  by 
the  presence  of  "  the  largest  and  handsomest  maple  tree  in  the  State  of  Mas- 
sachusetts." No  extra  charge  for  sitting  in  its  shade.  Photographs  at  all 
the  book-stores.    Beware  of  the  dog. 

At  seven  o'clock  on  Monday  morning,  August  22,  having  despatched  my 
valise  to  the  Fort  William  Henry  Hotel,  on  Lake  George,  I  started  due  n. 
from  this  big  tree,  and  made  just  7  m.  in  i  h.,  with  only  two  dismounts.  A 
hill  between  the  two  that  caused  these  stops,  was  ridden  up  by  me  for  the 
first  time.  Reaching  the  station  at  Smith's  Ferry,  2  m.  on,  five  minutes  in 
advance  of  the  train,  at  8.30, 1  disembarked  therefrom  at  9.10,  and  wheeled 
e.  for  \  h.  to  the  river  road  at  Hatfield  Comers,  1}  m. ;  then  n.  2  m.  in 
the  same  length  of  time,  to  the  sand  rut  under  the  maple  trees.  The  third 
stop  was  caused  by  a  hill  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Sugarloaf,  1}  m.  A  mile 
beyond  I  made  my  fourth  stop,  at  the  store  in  South  Deerfield,  to  compare 
distance  and  time  with  record  of  June  7,  when  I  came  from  Hatfield  by  the 
more  direct  and  more  sandy  road.  I  found  the  distance  on  the  present  occa- 
sion i^  m.  more,  and  the  time  5  min.  more.  Nevertheless  I  urge  all  riders  to 
try  the  river  route,  on  which  only  one  dismount  is  needed  in  the  5  m.  between 
the  station  at  North  Hatfield  and  the  hill  at  Sugarloaf.  From  this  hill  one  may 
easily  ride  without  dismount,  mostly  on  sidewalks,  for  8  m.,  through  South  Deer- 
field  and  Deerfield,  to  the  water-trough  on  the  hillside ;  and  if  a  rod  or  two  of 
troublesome  sand  can  here  be  got  through,  the  ride  may  be  continued  another  \ 
m.  to  the  Cheapside  bridge,  whose  planks  none  but  a  reckless  person  would 
venture  to  trust  his  tires  to.  Just  \  m.  beyond  this  is  the  railroad  station  in 
Greenfield.  The  steep  slope  after  crossing  the  track  may  be  ridden  up  by 
taking  the  sidewalk  on  the  left,  and  the  route  due  n.  continues  good  to  the 
cross  roads,  z\  m.  For  a  similar  distance  the  roads  are  sandy  and  generally 
unridable  till  a  little  cemetery  on  a  little  hill  is  reached.  Thence  one  may  go 
without  stop,  over  a  hard  track  of  constantly  increasing  smoothness,  for 
another  2^  m.,  to  the  New  England  Hotel,  in  Bemardston.  Reaching  there 
at  I  p.  M.,  I  started  on  at  2.30,  and  arrived  at  Brattleboro  at  5.10.  A  wheel- 
man there  told  me  that  hardly  any  riding  had  been  indulged  in  locally  since 
the  little  run  that  was  taken  to  West  Brattleboro,  in  my  honor,  a  dozen 
weeks  before.  Kendrick's  Hotel,  in  Putney,  about  10  m.  beyond,  and  52} 
m.  from  the  start,  was  reached  at  7.12  p.  M.  Bright  sunshine  and  a  bracing 
breeze  from  the  n.  w.  prevailed  throughout  the  day,  and  none  of  the  condi- 
tions of  pleasant  riding  were  absent.^ 


'  Two  of  the  most  remarkable  cases  reported  to  me  of  lon^  staying  in  the  saddle,  on  a 
difficult  straightaway  course,  are  to  be  accredited  to  the  Springfield  Bicycle  Club^s  pair  of  reteran 
road-riders,  F.  W.  Westervelt  (b.  Jan-  15,  1859)  and  C.  E.  Whipple  (b-  Aug.  aa,  i86i),  whose 
day's  rtm  to  Boston  is  recorded  on  p.  114.  On  the  second  or  third  Snnday  in  May,  XSS4,  they 
wheeled  up  the  valley  without  dismoont  to  the  hotel  in  Greenfield,  38  m.  by  Ezoelaor  cydometer. 


i  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.  183 

Putney  that  tbe  roads  to  the  n.  were  unfit  (or  the  bicycle ; 
in  that  direction  until  11  a.  m.,  1  thought  I  would  at  all 
as  Bellowa  Falls,  14  m,  before  resortinglo  the  cars.  Of 
,  the  "river  road  "was  said  to  be  sandy  and  the  "hill 
as  recommended  to  take  the  "  middle  road,"  and  I  found 

he  UBiul  my  '^  and  nm  bjr  prtiDcditalion,  or  for  Itie  Bake  of  recording 
ifl  the  objective  point  for  their  momiDg't  run,  ai>d  they  happened  to 

Mraightawajr  record  night  engily  have  b«eD  iiKreued,  for  a  fairly 
retched  afiead  of  them  for  Kvcrml  miles,  at  tlur  time  rA  (heir  diuiount. 
!  into  Weit  Springfield,  they  turned  up-hiil  to  the  U  at  the  wateting 
KHitiiiuu  aloogiide  the  river  to  Holyoke  ;  rode  up  Catei's  hill  on  the 
roadway  (thi>  i>  the  hill  of  which  I  have  uid— last  line  of  p.  iiS~"  I 
WDUd  "1  but  1  now  learn  that  il  hai  been  conquered  «veral  tunes  by 
1  by  tKher  toembcrtt  of  their  club)  \  ploughed  through  the  und  at  the 
ry  wbere  an  apple^irchard  deugnatei  the  liintta  of  a  vu  hueAt 
r.  between  the  iron  rails  at  the  crouing  above  Ml.  Tom  tuiion,  and 
ge  on  a  double  plank  |ai  the  entrance  to  the  meadow-road  happened 
>ii) ;  nuaed  I.  at  the  point  above  here  whei^  the  dike  liiea  to  the  level 
«]  where  p1ank<guarda  render  pouible  a  aide  nit  from  between  the 
cpad  to  Northampton  ^  turned  there  at  fint  h  road  alter  defceoding 
ind  CTDHing  the  r.  r  tracks^  then,  after  pauing  the  park  and  going 
L  I.  over  the  r  r.  f>y  bridge,  and  rode  pait  the  Hatfield  camp-meeting 
yond  here,  turned  r.  and  weqt  direct);  id  South  Deerfield,  whence  to 
Kn&eM,  the  route  wai  the  familiar  one  deKribedb;  me,  on  pp.  tSi,  119. 
:  saddle  waa  4}  h-,  showing  an  average  progress  of  about  S  m.  per  h, 
:  covered  the  siune  sS  m.  on  two  other  occasions,  with  only  the 

gone  as  far  as  Hatfield,  without  stopping  at  any  other  place  than  that, 

'  route  fust  given  maj  fie  followed  to  advantage,  by  turning  r.  at  (he 
d  thus  reaching  the  udewalka  of  HalAekl  within  \  m.  Between  the 
Iks,  beyoiH]  Bagg'i  Hotel,  at  tfie  opposite  end  of  the  village,  atid  a 
^t  I  have  called  (pp.  it?,  lU)  the  e.  route  connecting  Nonh  Hatfield 

rs  that  the  road  from  Greenfield  to  Turner's  Falls,  ^m.  e.,isa  pretty 
I  some  fiiM  coaaling,  (hough  the  same  grade  may  be  rendily  ridden  tip ; 
t;r  eji[^red  another  route  from  Greenfield,  as  far  as  South  Vernon,  say 
.  Standard  Columtiia,  Sept.  S.  '79,  but  rode  very  little  during  that  year 
trip  to  Hartford  was  his  only  long  ride  in  'ga,  and  a  leisurely  four 

nearly  4,00010.,  and  he  has  not  kept  a  record  for  any  olher  season; 
riding  inctrased  in  ^84,  his  total  mileage  mu»  considerably  eieeed 
in.  British  Challenge  froan  the  spring  of 'S3  to  the  apriof  of  '84;  sincB 
ludge,  on  which  his  remarkable  ittaighlaway  ride  was  taken.  He  is  a 
f  ociupalion,  and  weighs  148  lbs.  This  i>  about  the  weight  also  ol  his 
A,  who  >s  a  die-cutter,  and  whose  mileage  probably  exceeds  10,000, 


i84  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

it  by  no  means  a  bad  one.  It  afforded  many  beautiful  views  and  much  good 
riding.  There  would  have  been  more  of  this  except  for  the  "  road  repairs." 
Leaving  the  hotel  at  8  o'clock,  I  went  up-hill  for  I  m.,  walking  most  of  the 
way,  though  the  road  was  ridable  in  the  other  direction ;  and  I  reached  West- 
minster, 8^  m.,  in  2  h.  Thence  to  Bellows  Falls  the  road  was  sandier  and 
less  ridable,  and  I.  was  \\  h.  in  getting  over  it,  though  I  hurried  as  I  drew 
near  the  end.  Had  the  train  been  on  time  I  should  have  just  managed  to 
catch  it,  but  its  lateness  allowed  me  \  h.  in  which  to  procure  dinner.  Starting 
at  noon,  I  had  a  two-hours'  ride  "  over  the  mountains  "  to  Rutland,  passing 
through  a  thunder  shower  on  the  way.  There  I  was  told  that  a  smooth  and 
level  road  led  to  Whitehall,  25  m.,  and  I  lost  little  time  in  rolling  up  my  coat 
for  the  start.  A  wheelman  was  reported  to  me  to  have  just  reached  town 
from  St.  Johnsbury,  "  over  the  mountain,"  but  I  did  not  stop  to  scrape  ac- 
quaintance. Once  clear  of  the  town,  I  rode  through  West  Rutland  and  made 
my  first  dismount  at  3.15  p.  m.,  at  a  short  hill,  having  done  6J  m.  in  50  min.  I 
rested  here  for  perhaps  J  h.,  and  made  my  second  dismount  at  4  o'clock,  4  J  m., 
in  front  of  a  soda-water  fountain  in  Castleton.  Here  a  local  rider  joined  me 
and  encouraged  me  to  roll  up  a  big  hill  in  his  company.  My  third  dismount  was 
made  at  a  sandy  hill  near  Fairhaven,  nearly  1 5  m.  from  Rutland,  at  4.45  P.  M.,and 
this  was  the  first  place  on  the  road  where  a  stop  was  really  necessary.  Thus 
far  the  material  of  the  road-bed  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  slaty  gravel  or  fine 
sand  that  packed  closely  together ;  but  beyond  Fairhaven  the  material  began 
to  be  a  peculiarly  hard,  black,  flint-like  clay.  In  places  recently  repaired,  the 
indentations  made  by  wheels  or  hoofs  would  glisten  in  the  sun,  as  if  they  had 
been  freshly  chipped  from  solid  stone.  Just  after  a  rain  this  material  would 
be  unridable  to  the  bicycle,  but  after  a  long  spell  of  dry  weather,  it  is  said  to 
be  worn  to  perfect  smoothness.  I  took  it  at  a  time  about  midway  between 
these  extremes,  and  I  found  it  all  smooth  enough  to  be  ridable,  but  not  much 
of  it  to  admit  of  fast  riding,  because  there  had  been  rain  within  a  few  weeks. 
I  wheeled  up  and  down  several  considerable  hills  on  this  rather  rough  clay, 
however,  and  reached  the  Opera  House  Hotel,  in  Whitehall,  at  7  o'clock, 
having  made  a  day's  run  of  39  m.  This  ride  from  Rutland  I  cannot  too 
highly  praise.  It  leads  through  a  charming  country,  giving  glorious  views  of 
the  Green  Mountains,  close  at  hand  and  far  away,  and  is  in  all  respects  ad- 
mirable. I  was  quite  delighted  at  my  good  luck  in  discoyering  so  pleasant  a 
path,  for  I  did  not  venture  to  anticipate  it  the  day  before,  when  I  bade  adieu 
to  the  big  maple  tree,  and  faced  rather  dubiously  towards  Lake  George. 

Whitehall  lies  within  a  few  miles  of  the  lake,  but  is  separated  from  it  by 
a  mountain  range.  Rather  than  climb  this,  my  plan  was  to  take  train  to 
"  Ti "  (as  every  one  in  that  region  calls  the  historic  fort  and  village),  and  em- 
bark near  there  on  the  steamer  that  would  take  me  down  the  lake.  The 
train  did  not  go  till  1 1  o'clock,  however ;  and  as  the  weather  was  inviting,  I 
started  off  at  8  with  the  idea  of  meeting  it  at  Chubb's  Ferry,  or  one  of  the 
stations  beyond  there.    I  was  warned  that  the  hard  clay  of  the  ordinary  hill 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.  185 

roads  did  not  get  a  chance  to  be  worn  down  by  much  traffic,  as  did  the  main 
road  leading  to  Rutland.  Still,  I  thought  there  was  no  doubt  of  my  reaching 
Chubb*s  in  3  h.,  even  if  I  had  to  walk  every  step  of  the  7  m.  So  I  loafed 
aimlessly  about  among  the  hills,  enjoying  the  scenery  and  fresh  air,  and  not 
unmindful  of  the  apples,  blackberries,  wild  cherries  and  other  fruit,  until 
finally  I  was  awakened  to  the  maddening  truth  that  train-time  had  almost 
arrived,  while  I  myself  had  made  no  perceptible  approximation  towards 
Chubb's  Ferry.  Bestirring  my  boots  briskly  then,  I  lost  my  way  several 
times  in  \  h.,  and  ultimately  abandoned  all  notion  of  catching  the  train. 
The  idea  of  catching  a  hotel  next  possessed  me,  and  this  proved  equally  vision- 
ary ;  but  at  last  an  honest  farmer  took  me  in,  and  having  satisfied  my  hun- 
ger, chatted  with  me  pleasantly  about  the  topography  of  the  country.  The 
result  was  that  I  decided  to  climb  directly  over  the  mountain  to  Hulett's 
Landing,  on  Lake  George.  Leaving  him  at  2,  I  was  i  h.  in  making  the  3  m. 
to  Chubb's,  and  3  h.  more  in  doing  the  7  m.  up  and  down  the  mountain  to 
Hulett's.  Of  the  20  m.  marked  that  day  by  my  cyclometer,  I  suppose  }  or 
}  were  accomplished  on  foot.* 

^  "  No  pubUc  way  of  equal  length  on  this  continent/'  says  Stoddard^s  "  Uluatrated  Guide," 
''rivals  in  historic,  romantic  or  practical  interest  the  214  m.  of  road  connecting  New  York  City 
with  Lake  George,  which  lies  at  the  s.  w.  maigin  of  the  great  Adirondack  wilderness,  184  m. 
from  Montreal.  Its  length,  n.  and  s.,  is  a  little  more  than  33  m.,  and  its  greatest  breadth  a  httle 
less  than  4  m.  Surrounded  by  high  mountains,  it  is  fed  by  brooks  from  their  sides  and  by 
springs  from  the  bottom,  and  drains  very  little  territory.  It  is  347  ft.  above  Lake  Champlain, 
into  which  it  empties,  and  346  ft.  above  tide-water;  ami  was  shown  by  the  survey  of  1880  to 
contain  aao  islands, — instead  of  the  365  previously  accredited  to  it  by  tradition.  As  early  as 
1609,  the  French  explorer,  Champlain,  sailed  as  far  s.  as  Ticonderoga,  down  the  lake  which  now 
bears  his  name ;  while  the  Dutch  exfdorer,  Hendrick  Hudson,  at  the  same  time  sailed  up  the 
river  which  bears  his  name,  as  far  n.  as  the  point  where  the  Mohawk  branches  from  it.  Thus 
it  was  that  this  peaceful  bke— 4yiog  between  these  terminaf  claimants,  and  called  by  the  Indians 
'  the  gate  of  the  country  '—became  the  'dark  and  bloody  ground,*acro8S  which  Fnnce  and  England 
battled  for  the  mastery  of  the  continent  iN^ch  Enghtnd  finally  won.  The  first  reminder  of  that 
ancient  struggle,  which  is  met  in  traveling  along  the  plank  road  to  the  lake,  stands  some  distance 
B.  of  Brown*s  half-way  house,— a  plain  blue-and-white  marble  shaft,  erected  in  1854  by  graduates 
of  WDliams  College,  in  memory  of  their  founder  :  ^Cdonel  Epkrahn  tViiliamst  »  native  of 
Ntujlawn^  Mass.^  who,  aftor  gaUmHUy  defending  the  frotUier  of  his  native  State,  served  under 
General  Jt^nson  againai  the  French  and  Indians,  attd  nobly  fell,  near  this  spot,  in  the  bloody 
conflict  of  September  9th,  1755,  in  the  ^zdyear  of  his  age,*  The  road  winds  through  this  ravine 
called  Bloody  Run,  which  leads  to  the  historic  Bkxxly  Pond,  a  m.  s.  of  the  lake,  and  a  little 
w.  of  the  railway.  Close  beside  the  great  hotel  to  which  it  gives  a  name,  and  covered  with 
stately  pines,  are  the  ruins  of  Ft.  William  Henry,  built  by  Johnson,  after  his  victory  over 
Dieskan  in  rj$s  had  stemmed  the  tide  of  French  invasion,  and  vainly  attacked  by  Vaudreuil  in 
1757.  Hidden  in  the  pine  groves  that  line  the  shore  i'  m.  to  the  e.  are  the  grass-grown  ruins  of 
Ft.  George,  whose  title  is  likewise  perpetuated  by  the  hotel  adjacent ;  while,  on  the  hill  i  m.  to 
the  8.,  the  outlines  of  the  Ft  Gage  earthworks  may  still  be  traced  through  the  trees.  Ft. 
William  Henry  was  surrendered  Aug.  10,  1757,  to  the  6,000  French  besiegers  under  Montcalm, 
who  allowed  his  Indian  allies  to  butcher  more  than  1,000  of  the  prisoners,  and  then  withdrew  up 
the  lake,  leaving  the  fort  a  smouldering  ruin.  But  again  from  its  rebuilt  battlements,  there 
swept  northward,  the  following  summer  (July  5,  1758),  the  famous  flotilla  of  Abercrorabie, 
carrying  a  bravely  equipped  army  of  sSiOoo  men,  to  their  vain  attadc  upon  the  Frendi   at 


i86  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Tioonderoga,  whence  the  eTcnmg  of  the  9th  saw  their  inglorious  let^^  The  final  act  was  in  1759 
when  Amherst  repeated  the  expedition,  captured  Tioonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  and  forced 
France  to  let  go  of  the  lakes  forever." 

The  little  guide-book  to  which  I  accredit  these  statistics,  though  I  present  many  of  them  in 
language  of  my  own,  devotes  143  pp.  to  Lake  Geoige  and  60  pp.  to  Saratoga  Springs.  It  con- 
tains a  map  of  the  latter  place  (6  by  4  in.,  i^  m.  to  z  in.),  and  also  one  of  the  region  between 
its  lake  and  Lake  Geoige  (6  m.  to  i  in.)  with  circles  described  at  i-m.  intervals  from  Saratoga  as 
a  center ;  besides  a  map  of  the  lake  (3  m.  to  i  in.)  in  three  sections  of  a  page  each,  and  numer- 
ous other  plans  and  views  of  it.  The  book  was  oompUed  in  1873,  by  S.  R.  Stoddard,  of  Glens 
Falls,  N.  Y.,  who  has  published  revised  editions  of  it,  down  to  1884,  at  25  c  in  paper  covers  and 
50  c  in  doth.  A  similar  price  is  charged  for  his  *'  Adinmdacka  Illustrated  ^  (the  '84  edition  of 
which  is  a  well-^irinted  la  mo  of  334  pp.,  with  17  maps  and  55  other  illustrations);  and  pre- 
sumably also  for  his  "  Tioonderoga."  The  latter  book  suf^Ues  for  the  Lake  George  Guide  "  a 
plan  of  the  ruins  of  the  fortress  in  1873,"  with  descriptive  letter-press ;  and  a  similar  plan  is  ap- 
pended to  the  "  pocket  map  of  Lake  George  from  the  survey  of  1880  "  (of  which  the  same  pub- 
lisher issued  a  revised  edition  in  '83),  wherefrom  it  appears  that  "  Ticonderoga  was  begun  by 
the  French  in  1755 ;  captured  from  them  by  Amherst,  July  16,  1759 ;  from  the  British  by  Ethan 
Allen,  May  10,  1775,  and  from  the  Americans  bv  Buigoyne,  July  5,  1777."  This  pocket  map 
(la  by  38  in.,  x  m.  to  z  in.,  soc.)  b  an  excellent  one,  colored  by  townships,  with  m.  circles  drawn 
from  Ft.  William  Henry,  Black  Mountain,  and  Baldwin  as  centers,  and  having  its  margins  well 
filled  by  larger-scale  charts  of  8  of  the  principal  localities  on  the  lake.  The  "  important "  roads 
are  distinguished  from  the  "ordinary";  and  the  entire  w.  side  of  the  lake  exhibits  one  of  the 
former,  except  for  the  7  m.  between  North  West  Bay  and  SaMtoth  Day  Pomt,  whose  connection 
is  only  "  ordinary."  In  the  text,  the  onnpiler  speaks  of  the  lower  section  of  this  as  "  a  good 
country  road,  affording  a  pleasant  lo^n.  drive  between  Caldwell  and  Bolton  ":  and  he  says,  of 
a  hotel  on  the  e.  shore  called  Horioon  Pavilion,  that  "  an  excellent  road  has  been  built  from  this 
point  3  m.  to  the  top  of  Black  Mountain  (alt  3,661  ft.),  for  whose  use  $1  toll  is  charged  those  who 
do  not  hire  a  saddle  horse  for  $3."  Presumably  this  slope  would  not  be  "  excellent "  enou^ 
for  bicycling,  however,  in  either  direction.  I  recommend  the  same  publisher's  "  map  of  the 
Adirondack  Wilderness,  engraved  by  L.  E.  Newman  &  Co.,  of  N.  Y."  (fifth  edition,  revised 
1884,  32  by  35  in.,  4  m.  to  i  in.,  colored  by  counties,  %\\  whose  eastern  border  extends  from 
Glens  Falls  to  Plattsburg  and  includes  Lake  Geoige  and  most  of  Champlain.  "  Distances  from 
Mt.  Marcy  are  shown  by  lo-m.  circles;  important  roads,  ordinary  roads,  trails  and  carries  are 
separately  marked,  and  distances  on  them  are  given  in  figures ;  movements  of  stages  are  diown 
by  arrows,  and  stage-fares  are  given  on  various  routes."  As  the  road  connecting  Glens  Falls 
with  the  hotel  at  Katskill  Bay  (13  m.)  on  the  e.  shore  of  Lake  George,  is  marked  "  important," 
it  would  probably  be  ridable ;  but  the  connection  between  Whitehall  and  Glens  Falls  (say  34 
m.)  is  designated  as  only  "  ordinary."  The  battlefield  of  Saratoga  is  about  15  m.  s.  e.  of  that 
village,  at  Bemis  Heights,  on  the  Hudson,  just  w.  of  the  main  road  between  Stillwater  and 
Schuylerville,  and  about  3  m.  n.  of  the  former  village ;  and  the  sentimental  tourist  should  halt 
here  to  rest  his  eyes  upon  the  field  which  witnessed  a  decisive  struf^gle  that  changed  the  whole 
current  of  modem  history.  It  was  Gates's  capture  of  Burgoyne's  proud  host  in  October,  1777, 
which  made  possible  the  French  alliance  that  resulted  in  Washington's  capture  of  Comwallis  in 
October,  1781 ;  nor  should  the  tourist  foiget  that  the  field  of  Bennington  lies  not  many  miles 
away,  where  Stark's  brilliant  stroke  set  the  key-note  for  Gates's  greater  victory  of  Saratoga. 
Reclining  here  "  on  this  green  bank,  by  this  soft  stream,"— <he  self-same  spot  where  the  inde- 
pendence of  America  was  really  won,— let  the  patriotic  wheelman  picture  to  his  im^natioa  the 
exciting  drama  that  was  played,  a  century  ago,  upon  these  now  peaceful  slopes,  by  recalling  to 
mind  the  rattling  lines  of  Guy  Humphrey  McMaster : 

In  their  ragged  regimentals,  stood  the  old  Contlnentnte.  yielding  not, 

When  the  grenadiers  were  Innglng,  and  like  hall  fell  the  plnnglng  cannon-nhot;  Cnnieom, 

When  the  flies  of  the  isles,  from  the  smoky  nii^t  encampment,  bore  the  banner  of  the  rampant 
And  grummer,  grummer,  grommer,  rolled  the  roll  of  the  drummer,  through  the  mom  I 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON. 


Kow  llkt  smiUu  Kl  thelT  for^H  wo^cd  tbe  red  St.  G«r>rse'icajmoiilenL 

And  Uk  "  vUlaloDciB  Hltpetra  "  mog  a  flcnx,  lUnconlanl  nrirtrq  romuL  LhfilrF&n^ 

A»  Ibe  Kwlft  nlj^nii  clTirt»  with  hot  Htfeepinjf  uiirer.  came  Llie  liuTi-^-Biuiinl^'  cEoDKor  on  r 

Tbm  blfbeTi  bIflHr,  blffber,  botned  (tae  old-ruhloned  Oir  UiruiLtEh  (he  ninbal 

TIkh  U»  old-riutiIon«d  colonel  KoUoped  thnmgb  the  white  InTemii]  powder-cUnid ; 

And  hU  btD«d  »tfonl  w,  fwlnglngi  uid  his  bruea  Uin»t  wbh  rinsing  tnuDpet  load, 

nhen  Uh  blue  buOeU  flew,  tod  the  trooper-Jacket«  redden  at  Ihe  bnieh  of  the  It 

In  idditicm  lo  ihe  Sloddiid  publicalioiu,  there  ii  i  leu-clabaralc  niip  of  the  "  New  Yorlt 
WBdemeuand  ihe  Adirondaclu,  by  W,  W,  Elf.  M.  D.''{reviKd  i§Sj,  }i  b;]K  in.,  i  m  lot 
b.,  *i)  wiih  a  pim,  on  a  tmailer  Kale,  crnbridng  jdjoining  pjns  of  New  England,  Carada  and 

George  (fi-3j),  by  Been  Sl  Co.,  3b  Vesey  u.  Another  uandard  work  which  deKrven  the 
utenikio  of  Ihe  louriii  along  the  Hudion  ii  Ibe "  Cattkill  Mounuin  Guide,"  which  ii 
majkd  for  40  c  by  the  ccAipiler  ud  publisher,  Walton  Van  Loan,  of  Catiltn],  N.  V.    luued 

then,  and  ]i,a»copie9  had  been  told  at  tbeduK  oi 'S4.  The  book  of  that  year  contains  118 
pp.iOfwbicb  only  36  arc  given  toreading  matter  and  id  10  full-page  view*  of  the  nonotaina, — 
[he  remainder  being  occupied  wilb  the  pictured  advenisemenla  of  the  uimmer  botela  and  board- 
ing bousei  of  the  whole  Catskili  region.  "  Bird's-eye  views"  form  the  distinguishing  character- 
istic of  the  guide,  however, — [he  largest  one  ("Catskillsand  Adirondadu,"  32  by  1$  in.,  10  m.  ta 
I  in.,  engraved  by  American  Bank  Note  Co.,  N.  Y,),  giving  i  good  idea  of  the  topography  of 
Ihe  country  from  New  Vork  City  10  Montreal.    Each  mountain  peak  haa  iK  name  and  height 

ud  viHagea,  it  the  "bird'i-eye  view  of  the  CatiViUt,  drawn  from  tulure  by  Walton  Van  Loan, 
udcDvermg  an  area  of  i.idok),  m,,  looking  northerly"  (igby  11  in.),  and  Ihe  "  liewof  all 
p«nit  of  ioleresi  within  ^  m.  of  the  chief  holeli"  (16  by  9  in.),  on  the  much  larger  tale  of  )  m. 
loihi.;  ■*aeasheel9by6in,  presenlt  the  chief  featurei  of  ibe  counlry  from  New  Vork  to  the 
St  Lawrence,  condensed  from  the  largest  "  view,"  There  la  a  "  map  of  Greene  county,  with 
potsofUlstet  and  Delaware  conniiei"(rs  by  ij  in,,  j  m.  lo  t  in.,  mgjaved  by  Beers),  giving 
ibe  Ddin  roada,  and  also  *'  a  panoranuc  view  of  Windham,"  exhibititig  a  wide  atretcb  of  country 
ihit  oo(ht  to  ooniab  good  wheeling.  The  letter-preu  of  the  guide  deacribei  an  attractive  "  14. 
n.  ilriie  around  the  Clove,"  and  manyleuer  one9,but  without  giving  a  clear  idea  as  to  whether 
Ihe  iDids  are  practicable  for  the  tncycle,— the  only  quotable  alluiion  being  thii  remarli.  attributed 
loiheBiihopof  Albany:  "Mr.  Harding'«achie»emenlof  a  road  from  hiinew  Hotel  KaaterskiU 
down  the  mouDtahii  remindi  one  of  the  AlpiiK  roadi  over  the  St.  Goihard  or  the  Simplon, 
■hjch  needed  imperial  power  and  national  resources  to  accomplish  them. " 

"Ten  Days  in  the  Catskilli"  is  the  title  of  an  interesting  report  supplied  to  the  WlutI 
Uul,  ro,  'Br,  pp.  .7],  im)  by  itseditor,  F.  Jenkins  (b.  Jan.  10,  iS»),  concerning  a  tour  of  jM  m,. 


I90         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

zero,  I  reached  the  hotel  in  Schuylerville,  13J  m.,  in  2  h.,  and  stopped  i  h.  for 
breakfast.  I  perhaps  might  have  lessened  the  time  by  doing  the  last  4  m.  on 
the  tow-path,  for  beyond  Fort  Miller  there  were  stretches  of  sand  that  forced 
walking,  or  very  slow  riding.  About  i  h.  after  leaving  the  hotel,  3  m.  on, 
the  tow-path  tempts  me  to  leave  the  rather  hilly  highway,  and  I  ride  it  continu- 
ally, but  not  very  comfortably,  for  3  m.  and  more,  or  until  a  chance  comes  for 
returning  again  without  dismount  to  the  harder  highway.  Then  follow  14  m. 
of  the  smoothest  roads,  prettiest  scenery,  and  most  enjoyable  riding  of  the 
day,  past  Bemis  Heights,  Stillwater,  and  Mechanicsville  to  Waterford,  at 
whose  hotel,  34^^  m.  from  the  start,  I  stopped  \\  h.  for  dinner.  Resuming 
the  saddle  at  2.15  P.  M.,  I  crossed  the  bridge  and  bore  to  r.  and  then  to  L,  till 
I  reached  Vane  av.,  down  which  I  went  without  turn,  much  of  the  time  on 
the  sidewalks,  until  I  reached  the  Belgian  pavements  of  Troy,  nearly  4  m. 
Poor  sidewalk  business  for  i  m.  and  more  brought  me  to  the  bridge,  from 
the  w.  end  of  which  a  6-m.  path  over  dusty  and  rutty  macadam  and  mean 
sidewalks  led  to  the  bridge  at  Albany.  Recrossing  again  here,  I  made  a 
mount  at  Greenbush  at  5  o'clock,  11  m.  from  Waterford,  and  went  along  the 
river  road  to  Castleton,  9  m.,  in  1}  h.  The  next  hour,  mostly  on  foot,  was 
spent  in  reaching  my  journey's  end  at  Schodack,  though  the  cyclometer  called 
the  distance  less  than  3  m.,  and  gave  57 J  m.  as  the  reading  for  the  day.  Spite 
of  the  continued  dry  weatherj  which  made  the  sandier  road  from  Lake  George 
to  Albany  poorer  than  usual,  the  hard  clay  of  this  region  below  Albany  had 
not  been  worn  smooth,  and  I  was  told  that  it  never  became  so.  Some  soft 
stretches  of  sand  were  also  met  with.  Indeed,  I  found  the  sand  pretty  con- 
tinuous on  Saturday  morning,  when,  at  a  little  before  6, 1  started  off  through 
the  heavy  fog  from  the  forlorn  little  tavern  in  Schodack ;  for  I  was  almost 
\  h.  in  getting  to  the  brickyard,  }  m.,  where,  in  desperation,  I  accepted  the 
chance  of  risking  my  life  on  the  railroad.  My  first  mount  lasted  12  min.,  and 
covered  more  than  \\  m., — incomparably  the  longest  and  swiftest  spin  I  ever 
had  between  the  tracks  of  a  railway.  Indeed,  I  almost  began  to  cherish  the 
wild  hope  of  riding  the  rails  all  the  way  down  to  New  York,  instead  of  taking 
steamer  at  Hudson  as  planned.  But  the  second  culvert  caused  a  stop  in  \  m^ 
the  third  in  \  m.,  and  the  trains  began  to  be  uncomfortably  frequent.  How- 
ever, in  the  course  of  40  min.  I  had  ridden  the  whole  distance  to  Stuyvesant 
Landing,  5^  m.,  while  the  hilly  highway  would  presumably  have  taken  me 
twice  as  long.  Probably,  however,  I  should  have  done  well  to  resume  it  at 
this  point,  or  else  at  Coxsackie,  2}m.  on,  which  I  reached  \  h.  later ;  for  most 
of  the  7  m.  thence  to  Hudson  had  to  be  done  on  foot.  I  left  the  track  there 
at  9. 1 5, 3^  h.  from  Schodack,  15  m.  The  sun  was  just  then  dissipatyig  the  fog, 
which  had  formed  a  mercifully  cool  introduction  to  what  proved  a  scorch- 
ingly  hot  day.  The  weather  of  the  whole  five  preceding  days  had  been  ex- 
cellent for  touring,  though  the  week  that  preceded  and  the  week  that  followed 
were  both  very  hot  I  soon  discovered  "  the  place  of  the  bath,"  and  was  so 
long  enjoying  it  that  when  I  sallied  forth  in  a  dry  suit  of  clothes  and  freshly 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.  191 

blacked  boots,  I  had  only  time  to  partake  of  a  melon  and  sandwich  for  break- 
fast before  the  arrival  of  the  boat.  However,  I  was  in  all  the  better  condi- 
tion to  do  justice  to  the  dinner  which  was  soon  spread  before  me  there,  and 
to  enjoy  my  sail  down  the  river.  Upwards  of  1,500  passengers  were  aboard ; 
and  such  a  wilderness  of  trunks  as  awaited  attention  on  the  dock  at  Catskill, 
I  never  before  set  eyes  on.  The  brave  baggage-smashers,  who  finally  got 
these  things  on  the  boat,  must  have  wished  that  all  tourists  were  accompanied 
only  by  bicycles ;  at  least  none  of  them  ventured  to  "  strike  "  me  for  mine. 

Landing  at  24th  street  at  6  o'clock,  I  wheeled  homeward  along  the  side- 
walks (though  the  troops  of  shouting  urchins  made  progress  rather  slow  and 
dangerous) ;  but  when  5th  av.  was  reached  I  tried  its  Belgian  blocks  for  the 
final  half-mile.    The  contrast  presented  thereto  by  the  asphalt  at  the   end 
tempted  me,  as  usual,  to  indulge  in  a  parting  spin  around  the  fountain  in 
Washington  Square.    This,  be  it  understood,  is  in  the  center  of  the  roadway 
formed  by  the  two  streets  which  make  a  junction  at  the  head  of  the  av.,  and 
cut  the  square  in  twain.    What  was  my  surprise,  therefore,  at  having  a  park 
policeman  order  me  off  from  this  public  thoroughfare  1     Of  course,  I  wheeled 
off  at  once,  and  in  the  solitude  of  my  own  apartments  mused  with  contempt- 
uous pity  on  this  latest  straw,  indicative  of  the  petty  spite  cherished  by  our 
Park  Commissioners   against  bicyclers.    Eighteen  miles  were  recorded  on 
that  last  day,  and  about  204  m.  on  the  six  successive  days  of  the  trip,  though 
I  had  some  other  indications  than  the  one  detailed  that  my  cyclometer  some- 
what underrated  the  real  distance  traveled.    "  M.  D.  B.'s  "  story  also  confirms 
my  previously-formed  belief  that  I  made  a  mistake  in  taking  the  "  river  road  " 
below  Albany.    I  ought  rather  to  have  gone  e.  from  Greenbush  until  I  struck 
the  old  post  road  leading  s.    Probably,  indeed,  it  would  have  been  better  for 
me  if  I  had  gone  from  Waterford  to  Cohoes,  and  skipped  Troy  and  Albany 
entirely ;  for  none  of  the  riding  below  Waterford  was  very  enjoyable. 

Unless  "  W.  B.  E.  "  had  a  special  desire  to  visit  Bennington,  I  think  my 
story  will  convince  him  that  he  made  a  mistake  in  going  through  the  Hoosac 
Tunnel  instead  of  sticking  to  his  original  plan  of  touring  further  up  the  Con- 
necticut Valley ;  and  I  hope  others  may  be  persuaded  to  improve  the  autumn 
weather  by  trying  the  track  I  have  thus  laboriously  described.^  The  tour  for 
a  New  Yorker,  who  can  be  absent  from  business  only  four  days,  may  be  out- 
lined in  this  wise  :  Take  4  p.  m.  boat  to  Hartford,  and  ride  next  day  to  Hol- 
yoke  (or  the  night  may  be  passed  in  Springfield  or  Northampton,  if  preferred); 
on  second  day  ride  to  Putney,  and  there  at  6  P.  M.,  take  the  train  to  Rutland; 
or,  if  preferred,  the  train  may  be  taken  at  Brattleboro) ;  on  third  day  ride 
across  to  Whitehall  in  season  to  take  11  A.  M.  train  for  **Ti,'*  connecting  with 
steamboat  through  the  lake,  and  then  ride  from  Caldwell  to  Glens  Falls  or 
Fort  Edward ;  on  fourth  day  ride  to  Albany  and  take  the  night  boat  home. 
If  a  New  Yorker  starts  on  this  route  by  train,  instead  of  boat,  he  had  better 
b^n  wheeling  at  Meriden  or  Berlin,  for  the  road  thence  to  Hartford  is  ex- 
cellent.   The  Bostonian  who  doesn't  care  to  go  up  the  Connecticut  Valley 


192 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


may  take  train  directly  to  Rutland,^  or  perhaps  he  may  find  it  practicable  to 
wheel  himself  thither  by  way  of  Portsmouth,  the  White  Mountains,  or  St. 
Johnsbury.  I  believe  the  Lake  George  steamer  stops  running  at  the  close  of 
September,  however.  In  that  case  the  train  may  be  readily  taken  from 
Whitehall  to  Glens  Falls  or  Fort  Edward.  Indeed,  a  man  at  the  latter  place 
told  me  that  the  tow-path  from  Whitehall  was  ridable  all  the  way  down.  As 
to  the  "floor-like  hardness"  of  canal  embankments,  however,  I  prefer  other 
testimony  than  that  of  a  bar-room  lounger.^ 


1  Soon  after  this  piece  was  printed,  "  other  testimony  '^  of  a  trustworthy  sort  appeared  in  tha 
B.  W.y  from  the  pen  of  a  Fort  Edward  cycler,  declaring  that  the  tow-path  was  entirely  too  soft  to 
be  ridable,  and  that  the  hill  which  seemed  to  me  the  steepest  one  I  had  ever  then  conquered,  was 
habitually  ridden  up  and  coasted  down  by  local  riders,  every  day,  without  so  much  as  taking  breath 
or  winking.  From  the  same  paper  of  March  13, 1885,  I  extract  tlie  following  report  of  route,  from 
Hudson  to  Lake  George  and  thence  back  to  Williamstown,  taken  by  the  party  whose  course  from 
Suffem  to  Hudson  coincided  with  mine  (see  pp.  169, 171) ;  and  I  have  given  another  extract  (p.  tai) 
descriptive  of  their  route  from  Williamstown  to  Westfield,  which  was  partly  parallel  to  mine  :  "  Of 
two  possible  roads  leading  from  the  Blue  Store  to  Hudson,  we  seem  to  have  chosen  the  worst, 
and  after  several  hours'  alternate  riding  amd  walking  over  its  ruts  and  ridges  of  rough  clay,  we 
stopped  at  thiU  dty  for  the  night.  An  early  start  was  made  the  following  morning,  and  Stuy- 
vesant  Landing  (14  m.)  was  reached  at  8  o'clock,  over  roods  the  less  said  of  itribich  the  better. 
After  stopping  i  h.  for  breakfast,  we  took  the  path  between  the  tracks  of  New  York  Central  and 
Hudson  River  Railroad,  and  the  riding  proved  so  good  that  a  steady  pace  of  9  m.  an  h.  was 
easily  kept  up  into  Albany  (13  m.).  A  fine  view  can  be  had  of  the  Capitol  building  for  several 
m.  before  coming  to  the  dty,  as  the  railroad  runs  in  a  '  bee-line,'  which  apparently  ends  in  the 
Capitol  grounds.  Leaving  A  at  3  p.  m.,  we  found  poor  riding  to  West  Troy,  4  m.,  where  the 
broad,  smooth  tow-path  of  the  canal  looked  so  tempting  that  we  foUowed  it  to  the  hill  above 
Cohoes,  although  a  shorter  route  lies  nearer  the  river.  Throi^h  Coboea  and  Waterfoid  to  Me- 
chanicsville,  7  m.,  the  road  is  only  fair,  but  probably  half  the  distance  can  be  wheeled  on  the  sidc- 
paihs,  which  are  of  slate  and  so  smooth  that  not  the  least  jar  is  felt  while  riding  them.  The  3 
m.  from  Mechanicsville  to  Stillwater  probably  form  the  best  strip  of  road  in  this  section  of  New 
York  Sute,  as  we  proved  by  wheeling  it  inside  of  la  min.  The  Ensign  House  at  Stillwater  is 
to  be  recommended ;  and  better  headquarters  ooukl  hardly  be  found  from  which  to  inspect  the 
numerous  points  of  interest  in  the  vicinity.  As  few  wheehnen  would  care  to  visit  this  part  of 
the  State  without  going  to  Saratoga,  we  give  several  routes  from  which  to  choose  :  (i)  from  Me- 
chanicsville along  the  r.  r.  Ibe ;  and  this  first  is  probably  the  best  road ;  (2)  from  Stillwater,  past  the 
Center  House  to  White  Sulphur  Springs,  then  along  the  e.  shore  of  Saratoga  Lake  and  over  the 
boulevard  to  Saratoga ;  (3)  a  shortening  of  the  second,  by  turning  r.,  x  or  a  m.  before  reaching 
White  Sulphur,  tHen  to  the  1.  at  the  termination  of  this  road,  which  brings  one  out  near  the 
center  of  the  lake,  thereby  avoiding  several  m.  of  sand.  While  at  Saratoga,  wheehnen  should 
not  fail  to  visit  Mount  McGregor  by  train,  and,  if  possible,  take  dinner  at  the  Hotel  Balmoral, 
whose  cashier  is  himself  a  cyder.  After  several  days  with  friends  at  Stillwater,  we  started  n. 
again  at  10  a.  m.  of  Sept.  xi,  and  found  the  road  was  in  such  fine  condition  that  Schuylerville 
(i  i^  m.)  was  reached  in  i^  h.  A  thunder  shower  that  had  been  brewing  all  the  morning  overtook 
us  here,  and  caused  a  delay  of  several  h.;  but  at  3  o'dock  the  sun  was  again  shining  brightly, 
and  we  started  on,  with  the  determination  to  *  reach  Lake  Geoige  anyhow.'  Thanks  to  the  fine 
roads  and  the  splendid  condition  we  were  in,  we  succeeded  in  finishing  the  30  m.  just  at  night- 
fall. Shortly  after  leaving  SchuylerviDe  the  road  turns  to  the  r.,  and  crosses  the  Hudson,  fol- 
lowing its  e.  bank  the  greater  part  of  the  way  to  Fort  Edward,  14  m.,  which  we  reached  in  i  h. 
as  min.  Good  skle-paths  extend  from  here  through  Sandy  Hill  to  Glens  Falls  (5^  m.),  and  for 
nearly  x  m.  further,  to  the  point  where  the  '  oorduroy '  begins.    This  is  the  old  stage  road  to  Cald- 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.  193 

w<U,  utd  H  nude  of  &-ip,  pUnVa  laid  crcHHwiH  on  ^rd«n  sunk  id  Iho  und     As  the  i^ulii  in 

bit4Di.  of  Ihjspecuija/  road  it  unightaway  up-hill,  but  theatcfnt  Latogradua]  u  to  be  easily 
riddoL  A  gliopic  wu  caughl  of  l>ke  G«it^,  whik  itill  uvtn!  m.  away»  and  with  renewrd 
TJfor  «c  [HiBhcd  ofi»  dianHHutins  at  6.45  p.  u.  uifitiat  of  the  Lake  Houae,  which  w«  recommeiTd. 

"  On  the  fDUawing  alterooon  at  4  o'clock,  hairing  au 
hil  lake  by  Bieamer,  we  again  tackled  the  '  corduroy  ' 

aided  is  riding  the  9  m.  10  Ckni  Falli  wiihcHit  a  diuiiDuiit  id  a  tnae  over  1  h.  The  Dunn- 
ing of  Sept.  13  dawned  dear  and  oool,  adeUghlfut  cotitraal  to  the  prccediDg  ten  days,  which  had 
been  lilenUr  'KonJiin.'  An  taHy  itan  waa  made,  and  the  aide-path  retraced  10  Fort  Ed- 
waid,  jj  m.,  where  we  toned  nearty  e,  on  a  hard  pike  and  found  eaceileDt  wheeling  to  Argyle, 
7i  in.  Al  the  watering  Dough,  3)  m.  on,  we  lumed  lo  the  1.  over  a  rough  and  hilly  road,  which 
however  improred  rapidly,  aikd  after  turning  to  the  i.  and  then  to  (he  I.  three  tima,  we  again 
Eoond  a  broad,  Hnooth  road  under  our  wheels,  which  aoon  brooghl  ua  10  t^keville,  7  m-  After 
this,  at  a  point  i^  m.  tieyond  Eait  Greenwich  the  road  divides,  the  ].  branch  continuing  on 
1  ak  lo  Salem.  Followiog  the  toad  to  (he  r,  paM  a  yellow  tchool-houK,  wc  turned  [aiiiy  10  the 
L,  and  with  a  airong  wind  id  o«ir  favor  nude  a  apart  for  Cambridge,  paannt*'*^'^'*^™*^"'hicfa 
tried  (heir  pace*  with  ut,  only  to  be  left  far  Id  the  rear,  while  we  were  toon  tpinning  along  the 
hmki  ol  Lauderdake  Uke  <;  m.),  a  perfect  Uiile  gem  let  among  the  hilla,  which,  with  iti  liny 
neamboal  and  cnaey  hotel,  might  well  have  been  taken  tor  a  copy  of  Lake  George  in  mioiatun. 
Afierafew  Diinuiefl'  pauae  to  enfoy  the  Kenery,  abriik  run  of  |h.  brought  ua  to  Cambridge, 
}  m. ,  where  we  (topped  for  dinner.  The  afterTKion'i  ride  will  long  be  nmcnibered  a>  the  motl 
<lclitfatful  of  oar  lour.  After  pawngthrDughNofthHooiiiikfglin.),  and  Hooaick  Falla  (il  m.), 
ibe  read  divide*,  one  branch  running  among  the  hilli  on  the  e.  aide  of  Ihs  valley,  the  other  crow 
ing  the  river  at  Hooaick  Falla  and  following  clotely  ita  w.  bank,  with  very  few  gtadea^  It  can 
le  Bid,  however,  an  favor  of  the  e.  road,  that  (he  view  from  aome  of  ita  higher  pointa  ia  very 

tikeD,  a  luTD  to  the  r.  muat  be  madeal  Hooaick  t^ontcra  (si  m.}.  and  after  crcaaii^  the  river  on 
1  CDvend  bridge,  a  nnn  to  the  L  wall  again  bring  the  rider  on  the  main  road.  Beyond  thia  the 
ircoay  ia  beautiful,  and  in  aameplacea  truly  grand.  At  DDB  point  where  wediuDounted  10  drink 
ir«q  one  of  the  Diany  apringa  that  lined  the  load,  the  mountain  noe  above  our  heads  for  many 
hondred  feet,  and  with  its  aidea  covered  with  evergreen,  dotted  here  and  there  with  the  brighter 
ojlon  ofa  maple,  made  a  picture  worthy  the  pencil  of  an  artiaL  At  North  Petetaburg  (a^  m,), 
ae  turned  10  the  1. ,  and,  alter  recrowng  the  river,  again  turned  1.  and  found  good  mada  Ihrough 
Nmli  and  Sooth  Pownal  {f>\  m.),  lo  Williamalown  (;  m.|,  Mais.,  the  aeat  of  Williama  College. 
A  [laacc  at  our  log,  during  the  evening,  allowed  thai  the  bj  m.  from  Gleu  Falla  had  been 
wheeled  in  7  h.  actual  riding  time,  which  will  give  aome  idea  aa  to  the  condition  of  the  roada." 

ApanofihiicDune  waa  included  in  a  three  dayg'  tour  (Sept.  11,-17,  '«}),  from  Cohoeiio 
Vnsfield,  II)  m.,whDM  report  was  supplied  forme  by  A.  C  Rich,  of  Saratoga:  "Thealow- 
>^cJearfintday*afoumey,Cohoea  to  North  Adamaf^i^  m.,  7.15  A.  u.  to  6.35  p.  v.),  ahoutd 
OH  jaejudice  you  agiiiut  the  roada,  for  they  are  uaually  good  and  hard  \  but  1  waa  not  b  (our- 


y 


and  the 

ncebyo 

l-mill  hill  (loi 

gto 

bet 

nembered)  to  S[Hegcltown  ({  m.|, 

•haehOelafloided 

furbn 

akfaat. 

At  Raymert 

6Jm 

,  we  alruck  the  atone  road  leading 

odkep 

m.,  or  to  (he 

nuse  on  r.  (which  i>  8(  m.  beyond 

F™»-..and4n,. 

beyond  the  half- 

«y  hou«;),  where 

lumed  r.  up  the  valley,  and  kept 

tkrw-rtmoftheH 

nearN 

rlh  Pownal, 

wher 

e  we  cronu^  and  kepi  along  the  r. 

h;M«^  South  P«mal;li 

naftytak 

nglhel.bank 

aga 

ttle  befort  reaching  North  Adams. 

SllKf-^'- 

from  Cohoe.  to  PilB 

thence  downward  10  Peteraburg 

g*"^B*^.,on. 

Iheac 

"                         ^VoiAdam 

i.(6m.) 

through  r 

>bN 

badiha 

we  there 

eenther.r.  lraeka;6nding 

196  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

stay  in  the  saddle.  Once  mounted,  my  vigor  returned  somewhat,  and  though 
the  heat  proved  to  be  intense,  I  succeeded  in  grinding  off  23  m.,  ending  at  the 
hotel  in  Red  Hook,  at  a  little  before  7  o'clock.  My  route  was  through  Harri- 
son and  Mansion  sts.  to  Washington  St.,  which  I  suppose  is  the  prolongation 
of  the  New  York  Broadway,  for  I  followed  it  n.  up  the  river.  Teller's  hill, 
the  second  ascent,  is  a  short,  sharp  slope,  followed  by  a  long  and  easy  one, 
and  the  good  riding  then  continued  to  Hyde  Park,  7  m.,  except  for  bits  of 
newly-laid  gravel.  I  rested  2  h.  at  the  hotel  in  Staatsburg  (4  m.)  and  2  h.  at 
Rhinebeck  (6  m.),— drinking  freely  of  milk,  which  formed  my  only  food  that 
day, — ^and  I  probably  rested  at  the  roadside  at  least  once  every  mile,  to  get 
the  cooling  effect  of  the  breeze  which  was  at  my  back.  Loam  seemed  to  be 
the  basis  of  the  roadway,  and  there  was  hardly  a  mile  of  it  on  which  sand 
had  not  been  recently  hauled,  by  way  of  "  mending  " ;  which  sand  was  said  to 
pack  down  tightly  by  the  aid  of  rain,  but  never,  thus  unassisted,  in  dry 
weather.  I  mention  these'  details  to  suggest  the  warning  that  a  tour  along 
this  section  of  the  Hudson  had  better  be  taken  a  little  before  the  farmers 
finish  planting  their  crops,  or  else  a  month  after  their  struggles  with  the  roads 
have  abated.  Leaving  Red  Hook  at  6  on  the  morning  of  the  6th,  I  spent  \  h. 
in  covering  the  3  m.  to  the  hotel  in  Upper  Red  Hook,  where  I  breakfasted  in 
the  bar-room  on  five  glasses  of  milk ;  though  I  supplemented  this  repast  i  h. 
later  at  the  store  in  Nevis  (Cleremont),  3  m.,  by  a  few  raw  eggs.  Starting  on 
at  8.15, 1  rode  to  the  Blue  Store,  4  m.,  in  \  h.  (dismounting  once,  near  the 
end,  on  account  of  a  horse), — ^and  this  was  my  longest,  swiftest  and  smoothest 
spin  of  the  day.  Instead  of  taking  the  direct  road,  1.,  for  Hudson,  I  went  to 
Johnstown,  3  m.,  and  rested  for  \  h.,  and  took  a  similar  rest  beyond  the  stone 
mill,  2\  m.  Thence  to  pond,  then  1.  turn  along  main  road,  quickly  followed 
by  r.  turn  with  telegraph  poles;  bringing  me  thus  to  toll-gate  about  i  m.  from 
the  finish.  I  rode  through  town  by  a  somewhat  roundabout  course  to  reach 
the  Worth  House,  at  i  o'clock,  21 J  m.  from  the  start.  The  weather  of  the  lat- 
ter lialf  of  the  journey  was  so  intensely  hot,  that  I  decided  to  postpone  further 
riding  until  next  morning ;  but  a  heavy  shower  in  the  afternoon  served  to  in- 
troduce a  heavier  rain-storm  which  raged  during  the  night,  and,  as  I  could 
not  afford  to  delay  a  day  or  two  for  allowing  the  mud  to  dry  up,  I  reluctantly 
took  train  for  Springfield,  on  the  7th,  whence  I  continued  my  tour  eastward 
on  the  i6th,  as  reported  on  p.  no.  The  44  m.  from  Poughkeepsie  to  Hudson 
would  have  supplied  an  easy  day's  ride  for  me,  had  I  been  in  average  condi- 
tion, and  the  two  days'  ride  was  definitely  beneficial  in  starting  me  towards 
the  restoration  of  health  and  strength.  The  smoothest  and  prettiest  stretch 
of  the  course  ended  at  Hyde  Park;  the  second-best  section  at  Rhinebeck, 
which  may  properly  be  taken  as  the  terminal  point  of  a  tour  from  the  mouth 
of  the  Hudson.  Beyond  here,  to  the  northward,  the  roads  and  the  scenery 
definitely  grow  poorer  together ;  the  vegetation  in  the  fields  is  less  luxuriant 
and  attractive;  the  trees  are  more  scattered  and  stunted.  The  contrast 
reminded  me  somewhat  of  that  which  impresses  the  traveler  when  he  emerges 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON, 


197 


from  the  Blue  Grass  Region  of  Kentucky  into  the  less-favored  country  ad- 
jacent. On  that  last  day,  I  found  a  good  many  big  round  stones  in  the  road, 
both  loose  and  fixed;  and  some  stretches  where  loose,  flat  stones  had 
been  thrown  in  by  the  *'  menders,"  as  a  variation  to  their  throwing  in  of  sand 
and  sods.  While  I  loitered  on  the  public  green  in  front  of  the  county  court- 
house in  Hudson,  that  afternoon,  still  another  survival  of  barbarism  affronted 
me  in  the  fact  that  prisoners  were  allowed  to  stand  there,  plainly  revealed  be- 
hind the  full-length  gratings  of  the  jail  which  forms  a  part  of  the  building, 
and  to  chat  with  the  casual  passer-by.  This  was  the  first  exhibition  of  the 
sort  that  I  had  ever  happened  to  see ;  and,  as  a  token  of  the  standard  of 
political  wisdom  ruling  in  that  locality,  it  impressed  me  about  as  unfavorably 
as  had  the  previous  and  more  common  exhibitions  given  by  gangs  of  farmers, 
engaged  in  wreaking  destruction  upon  the  roads,  under  pretense  of  "  working 
out  their  taxes." 


A  two-oolomn  •ketch of  a  two  days*  ride  "down  the  Hudson,"  from  Albany  to  Fought 
keepsae,  was  printed  in  the  Wfu«l  (Oct.  xo,  '84),  by  G.  P.  MacGowan,  a  student  of  Middlebury 
Collie,  who  (on  Aug.  5,  2  to  8  p.  m.)  "  rode  with  a  companion  from  Greenbush  down  to  Hud- 
soDf  between  the  r.  r.  tracks,  30  m.,  at  a  gait  of  10  m.  an  hour,  easy,"'^  preliminary  spin  of 
12  m.  having  been  made  in  the  forenoon.  The  tracks  were  followed,  the  second  day,  untU  they 
became  unridaUe,  at  Gerniantown ;  "  from  which  place  the  smoothness  of  the  highway  and  the 
delights  of  the  scenery  increased  as  we  proceeded  toward  Poughkeepsie,  finishing  there  (45  m.)  early 
in  the  afternoon."  Proceeding  by  boat  to  Cornwall,  for  a  few  days'  stay  at  the  hotel,  the  writer 
found  pleasant  wheeling  excursions  thence  to  "  Idlewild"  and  Newburg,  and  climbed  on  foot 
to  the  summit  of  Storm  King,  "  on  which  mountain  Washington  caused  one  of  the  largest  illu- 
minatioos  ever  known,  as  a  sign  of  the  peaux."  On  Nov.  8,  '84,  "  three  residents  of  Newbuig 
wheeled  homeward  along  Broadway,  from  the  s.  w.  comer  of  Central  Park,  to  the  ferry  landing 
at  FishkiU,  (xi\  m.,  between  6  a.  m.  and  4.20  p.  u.,  taking  breakfast  at  Yonkers  and  dinner  at 
Peekskill,  and  dimlung  thence  over  the  mountain  to  Garrisons  and  Cold  Spring.  Allowing  i^ 
h.  for  the  two  stops,  their  average  speed  was  7  m.  per  h.  The  weather  having  been  very  favorable, 
the  roads  were  good  for  the  entire  distance''  The  names  and  birthdays  of  the  three  are  :  J.  T. 
Joslin,  July  s8,  1838;  M.  W.  Couser,  June  13,  1853;  R.  Ketcham,  Nov.  8,  1863;  though 
the  fint  mentioned  took  the  trip  alone,  on  the  9tb,  between  the  designated  hours.  He  is  my 
authority  also  for  recording  that  the  best  route  n.  from  Hudson  leads  (through  the  toll-gate 
vhich  I  name  on  p.  196)  to  Claverack  and  Ghent,  say  14  m.,  and  thence  to  Valatia,  about  8  m., 
over  an  excellent  gravel  track ;  fdlowed  by  fairly  ridable  roads  to  Greenbush.  I  believe  this 
route  is  also  recommended  by  "  M,  D.  B.  " ;  and  I  presume  it  is  the  oim  which  was  used  by 
the  laie  R.  Osbom,  of  Poughkeepsie,  in  his  day's  ride  to  that  city  from  Albany,  7a  m.  The 
2541.  route,  by  «^ch  a  connection  has  been  made  without  dismount  between  Canaan,  on  the 
bonier  of  Coonectkut,  and  Castleton  on  the  Hudson  (p.  148),  passes  through  Valatia.  From 
CHiatham,  too,  on  that  same  route,  I  am  told  that  a  good  gravel  road  reaches  through  Lebanon 
to  iSiaker  Village,  whence  3  m.  ascent  of  Pittsfield  mountain  must  be  walked  *,  after  which  the 
6}  m.  to  Pittsfield  may  be  wheeled  without  stop.  The  road  from  Saratoga  through  Ballston 
to  Amsterdam  (on  the  Mohawk  river  and  Erie  canal)  is  reported  by  Mr.  Joslin  as  hilly  and 
somewhat  sandy ;  but  he  traversed  it,  between  4  a.  m.  and  8  p.  m.,  with  only  a  little  walking, 
and  he  recollects  the  distance  as  about  31m.  He  likewise  tells  of  hilly  but  ridable  roads  from 
thae  to  Sharon  Springs  and  the  head  of  Otsego  Lake,  whence  a  pleasant  excursion  may  be 
made  by  steamer  to  Cooperstown  at  the  other  end.  The  qmckest  ride  which  I  have  seen  recorded 
between  New  York  and  Yonkers  was  that  of  R.  G.  Rood,  in  the  election-day  road  race  of 
the  Ixion  Bicycle  Club  (Nov.  6,  '83),  for  the  dub  championship  and  a  $50  gold  medal.    The 


loS  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

route  appears  to  have  been  from  the  s.  w.  comer  of  Central  Park  through  the  Boulevard/  isad 
St.,  loth  av.y  Kingsbridge  road,  Riverdale  hill,  Valentine's  lane,  to  the  Peabody  House.  The 
distance  was  called  just  15  m.,  and  the  time  was  i  h.  4  min.  The  road  was  heavy,  from  a  morn- 
ing's rain,  and  a  strong  head-wind  prevailed. 

"  The  roads  from  Rhinebeck  to  Poughkeepsie  were  the  best  met  with  on  the  tour,"  says 
one  of  the  historians  of  the  "  Big  Four"  (C.  S.  H.),  whose  first  two  days,  beginning  July  6, 
'85,  covered  the  route  from  Buffalo  to  Rochester,  described  on  p.  215  ;  and  whose  last  three  days 
led  down  the  Hudson,  ending  at  New  York,  July  17, — the  intermediate  wheeling  having  been  in 
Canada,  between  Cobourg  and  Kingston,  July  9-10.  "  The  course  from  Albany  led  over  the  old 
post-road,  up  and  down  innumerable  hills,  to  Kinderhook,  where  dinner  was  served  ;  and  then 
through  the  Hudson  valley,  with  fewer  hills,  to  Hudson  (reached  just  before  dark),  where 
steamer  was  taken  for  Catskill.  Next  morning  the  boat  carried  the  party  across  to  McKinstry- 
▼ille,  where  wheels  were  mounted  for  Poughkeepsie,  35  m.  distant  (dinner  at  Rhinebeck),  and  a 
steamer  taken  there  after  supper  which  brought  us  to  West  Point  at  1.30  a.  m.  As  the  final  day 
proved  a  very  hot  one,  we  sailed  to  Irvington,  instead  of  disembarking  at  Tarrytown  as  orig- 
inally planned ;  and  we  finished  at  59th  St., — tired,  dusty  and  thirsty,  but  nevertheless  happy, — at 
a  little  before  7  p.  m.  At  every  town  between  Albany  and  Hudson,  the  inhabitants  turned  out 
in  Sunday  attire,  and  lustily  cheered  the  wheelmen  as  they  passed.  Flags  were  hoisted  on  all 
the  village  commons,  and  if  any  man  in  town  had  a  cannon  he  brought  it  out  and  blazed  away." 
"  I  had  a  fine  trip  last  week  to  Lake  Mohonk,  going  from  here  by  way  of  Montgomery, 
Walden,  St.  Andrews,  New  Hurley  and  New  Paltz.  The  road  up  the  valley  of  the  WallkiU 
from  Walden  to  New  Paltz  is  hard  and  very  level.  Two  stretches  of  4  or  5  m.  each,  having  a 
hard  slate  siu^ce,  are  almost  on  a  dead  level,  and  afford  an  even  finer  ride  than  that  along  the 
Delaware,  from  Port  Jervis  to  Milford.  ITie  37  m.  from  here  to  New  Paltz  could  be  made  with- 
out dismount."  Such  is  the  report  sent  to  me  from  Middletown,  Aug.  20,  '84,  by  H.  C.  Ogden ; 
and  I  supplement  it  by  remarking  that  a  road  extends  directly  from  New  Paltz  to  Highlands, 
about  8  m.,  on  the  Hudson,  opposite  Poughkeepsie  (see  p.  172),  and  another  continues  n.  up 
the  Wallkill,  and  Rondout  creek  which  it  runs  into,  to  Kingston,  about  15  m.  (see  p.  188). 
The  county  map  also  shows  direct  connection  between  Nyack  (p.  80),  on  the  Hudson  opposite 
Tarrytown,  and  Suffem  (p.  171),  in  the  Ramapo  valley,  about  14  m.,  with  a  half-dozen  interme- 
diate villages.  Kirk  Munroe's  illustrated  article,  "  A  Canoe  Camp  'mid  Hudson  Highlands  " 
{Outing,  Dec,  '84,  pp.  163-173),  gives  some  interesting  facts  about  the  wild,  west-shore  region 
below  West  Point,  where,  "  back  in  the  hills,  the  dwellers  are  a  rude  and  savage  race,  whose 
knowledge  of  the  world  is  often  limited  by  the  mountains  that  bound  their  own  horizon.  So 
easy  of  access  is  this  remarkable  and  little-known  section,  that  the  explorer  may  run  out  from 
New  York  on  an  early  morning  train  to  any  of  the  stations  in  the  Ramapo  valley,  tramp  15  or 
ao  m.  through  the  wilderness  to  the  Hudson,  and  take  train  back  to  the  city  in  time  for  a  late 
dinner."    I,  however,  saw  no  one  very  rude  or  savage  when  I  tramped  across  here,  Sept.  19,  '85. 

"The  Hudson  River  by  Pen  and  Pencil,"  with  60  engravings  on  wood  from  drawings 
by  J.  D.  Woodward  (N.  Y.  :  Appletons,  1875,  pp.  52,  price  50  c),  is  a  well  printed  octavo, 
which  is  worth  recommending  to  those  who  want  a  picture-book  of  this  region.  A  simi- 
lar remark  may  be  made  of  the  same  publishers'  "  New  York  City  Illustrated  "  (1883,  pp. 
144),  which  sells  for  75  c.  The  Catskill  Afauntain  Breeze  and  the  Lake  George  RippU^ 
weekly  journals  of  the  Summer  Resort  Publication  Co.  (85  John  St.,  N.  Y.),  are  supposed  to  | 

contain  the  latest  news  needful  for  the  tourist.     For  the  sake  of  completeness,  I  catalogue  the  \ 

series  of  cheaply-executed  railroad  and  steamboat  guides  issued  by  Taintor  Brothers,  Merrill  &  I 

Co.,  N.  Y.  ("  illustrated  with  maps  and  woodcuts,  and  mailed  for  25  c.  each  "),  which  have  been  I 

in  the  market  for  a  long  terfn  of  years,  but  which  I  do  not  specially  recommend  to  wheelmen  :  [ 

"  City  of  New  York,"  "  Hudson  River  Route,"  "  Saratoga,"   "  New  York  to  Saratoga  and  , 

Thousand  Islands,"  "  Connecticut  River  Route,"  "  Erie  Railway  Route,"  "  Fall  River  and  | 

Newport  Route,"  "  Northern  Resorts  "  (White  and  Creen  mountains.  Lake  Meraphremagog,  j 

etc),  "  Seaside  Resorts  "  (from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  Mississippi),  '*  Pennsylvania  Coal  Re-  l| 

gions,"  "  New  York  to  Washington."  \ 


XV. 

THE  ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE.* 

On  the  afternoon  of  Monday,  September  6,  1880, 1  took  my  wheel  out  of 
its  crate  in  the  freight-house  in  Schenectady, — whither  it  had  been  sent  from 
the  manufactory,  after  having  been  improved  by  new  tires,  pedals,  spring,  and 
minor  repairs, — and  mounted  it  on  the  Erie  tow-path  at  half  past  4  o'clock. 
The  fact  that  a  good  share  of  the  transient  population  of  the  city  crowded 
upon  the  bridges  to  stare  at  me  when  I  descended  the  steps  from  the  street, 
or  the  fact  that  all  the  boats  seemed  to  be  moving  eastward,  may  have  been 
the  cause  of  my  bewilderment ;  but  at  all  events  I  rode  i  m.  in  the  direction 
named  before  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  going  away  from  rather  than 
towards  Niagara,  as  I  intended.  Turning  about,  therefore,  I  soon,  for  the 
first  time,  came  in  front  of  a  pair  of  mules,  and  though  no  notice  had  been 
taken  of  me  when  passing  them  from  the  rear,  they  resented  this  affront  by 
whirling  around  and  sending  their  driver  rolling  down  the  bank.  No  harm 
was  done,  and  the  man,  from  force  of  habit,  bestowed  his  curses  on  the  mules 
rather  than  on  me ;  but  the  incident  taught  me  the  need  of  caution :  for  as  all 
vehicles  are  by  law  excluded  from  the  tow-path,  a  bicycler  riding  there  is  di- 
rectly responsible  for  all  damages  his  presence  may  cause.  Thenceforth, 
therefore,  I  always  dismounted  whenever  I  met  the  animals  that  were  drag- 
ging the  canal  boats,  even  though  the  driver  thereof  sometimes  shouted : 
**  Come  on  I  They  won't  be  scared  I  1*11  take  the  risk  I "  Oftentimes  the  boats 
were  very  close  together,  and  though  the  ones  westward  bound  caused  me  no 
trouble,  I  don't  believe  that  in  three  days  I  rode  as  much  as  i  m.  on  the  tow. 
path  without  being  forced  to  dismount  by  approaching  boats.  The  path  itself 
has  a  stone  foundation,  and  the  soil  on  top  is  generally  ground  up  into  a  fine 
dust  by  the  hoofs  of  the  animals ;  whereas,  heavy  wheel  traffic  might  pack  it 
down  hard  and  smooth.  Slow  and  careful  riding  was  usually  necessary,  to 
avoid  the  occasional  large  stones  concealed  by  the  dust,  and  though  I  found 
few  stretches  absolutely  unridable,  I  found  many  over  which  it  was  easier  to 
walk  than  to  ride.  Fast  wheeling  seemed  quite  out  of  the  question.  The 
best  that  can  be  said  of  the  path  is  that  it  is  level,  and  that  the  lower  Mohawk 
Valley,  through  which  it  winds,  is  picturesque.  "  In  the  sweet  by  and  by," 
when  the  canal  shall  have  been  abandoned  as  a  transportation  route,  and  the 
projected  International  Park  at  Niagara  shall  have  been  established  in  all  its 
glory,  I  hope  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen  may  be  rich  enough  to  fit 
up  the  entire  Erie  tow-path  as  a  pleasure  drive  connecting  with  that  park.    A 

'From  TA^  BicycUi%g  IVorldt  May  a/,  June  3,  10,  17,  1881 ;  pp.  37,  44, 56, 64. 


200  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

thin  coating  of  the  powdered  rock  so  readily  procurable  alongside  the  canal 
could  be  Hpread  upon  the  excellent  existing  basis  of  the  path  at  comparatively 
slight  expense,  and  would -transform  it  into  the  finest  racing  track  on  the  hab- 
itable glot^e.  Enviable  indeed  will  be  the  bicycler  of  that  happy  day  as  he 
goes  proudly  spinning  **  down  the  ringing  grooves  of  time." 

On  that  hot  Monday  evening  in  September,  I  left  the  canal  at  Hoffman's 
Kerry,  and  went  to  Patterson's  hotel  for  the  night,  arriving  at  half  past  7 
o'clock,— (2}  m.  in  3  h.,— the  last  \  h.  having  been  spent  in  walking  i  m.  in  the 
dark.  I  was  told  that  the  highway  from  Schenectady  would  have  been  found 
smoother  than  the  tow-path ;  and  so,  next  morning,  instead  of  resuming  the 
path,  I  had  a  ferryman  row  me  across  the  Mohawk,  and  I  rode  due  w.  for  i 
m.,  in  10  min.  Then  the  track  grew  sandy  and  stony  and  hilly,  and  after  i}  m. 
of  miscellaneous  locomotion,  I  recrossed  the  river  in  the  skiff  of  an  honest 
farmer,  who  refused  to  accept  any  pay  for  his  services,  and  again  took  to  the 
path.  At  10  o'clock,  }  h.  later,  I  reached  Port  ITunter,  5  m.  on,  connected 
by  a  bridge  with  Amsterdam,  the  first  large  town  w.  of  Schenectady.  I 
stopped  here  i  h.,  and  also  2  h.  at  Fort  Hunter,  3  m.  beyond,  where,  at  the 
Mohawk  Hotel,  I  got  an  atrociously  bad  dinner.  Judging  from  the  shaggy 
and  unkempt  appearance  of  my  table<ompanions,  the  ordinary  price  for  their 
meals  could  not  possibly  have  been  more  than  a  quarter-dollar ;  but  the  genial 
landlord  charged  me  40  c,  in  order  to  encourage  bicycling.  After  2  or  3  m. 
more  of  tow-path,  I  took  the  "  heel-path,"  which  is  the  local  name  facetiously 
applied  to  the  highway  adjoining  the  canal  on  the  1.,  and  kept  it  (except  for  5 
m.  ending  at  Spraker's)  till  I  reached  the  Nellis  House  in  Canajoharic,  at  S 
o'c  lock,  ,)0  m.  from  the  start  at  Hoffman's.  For  i  m.  or  so  through  Fulton- 
ville,  which  is  op)>ositc  Fonda,  and  for  2  m.  beyond  Spraker's,  I  went  at  a 
good  pace.  Darkness  then  forced  me  to  walk  for  the  last  1}  m.,  though  I 
think  the  road  continued  smooth. 

T))p  hotel  accommodations  were  satisfactory,  and  starting  at  8  o'clock 
WfdncAday  morning,  I  spun  along  smoothly  for  more  than  4  m.,  to  a  point 
boyond  K«>rt  Plain*  Then  followed  1}  h.m  which  I  did  considerable  walking 
up  and  down  htll,  and  accontpUshed  4}  m.  Resuming  the  tow-path  at  10  o'clock, 
a(  (hi^  hvidi^f  opp(V»ite  St  Johnsville,  I  rode  along  it  for  exactly  10  m.,  ending 
At  l.ittlr  KaIU  at  i^dO  r.  M.  This  section  of  the  path  averaged  the  best  of 
at\y  in  n\y  cxpovience«  and  the  last  |  m.  or  $0  really  admitted  of  rapid  riding. 
Thntt  fHf  several  good  hotels  here>  op  on  the  hiC,  The  one  I  happened  to 
^\\\t\  WAA  the  iiivan  House«  where  the  dinner  was  sattsfactorr.  After  a  2  h. 
M(«>p,  t  took  (he  |>ath  f  >r  j^^  m>  \\  h.>,  an^  then  went  in  swimming  for  i  It,  or 
un(il  tho  U>ckkec|KV  (who  lent  me  a  towel  and  refused  to  take  any  pay  there- 
\\W )  <WM  dtmn  t\>  the  btt»he$  i»  $ee  if  I  Kadn^  been  drowned.  An  boor 
lat^'it  0  \\\s  on,  1  tl>t^k  the  turnpike^  and  went  dvxy^gh  Dkm  and  Frankfort, 
1^  m,  in  17  min«  Then  the  r^gid  grew  i^radnalhr  poorer,  mtil  at  6  o'dock  I 
WA«  tt^mpted  tx\  tn-  the  tow-^vath  a$:aiYu  aK^ng  whkb  I  sJowlrgroaid  my  way 
\\\\  *|  nu,  nnl^l  darkn«ss  siKH^wd  me  abiMi  7.    TVea  I  eot  aboud  a  steam 


ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE,  201 

canal  boat,  which  was  i  h.  in  making  3  m.  to  Utica,  and  the  captain  of  which 
refused  to  accept  any  compensation  for  my  ride.  He,  however,  recommended 
to  me  the  American  House,  opposite  Bagg's  Hotel ;  and  though  every  con- 
sideration of  family  pride  urged  me  to  patronize  the  latter  famous  caravansary, 
its  lordly  and  glittering  front  seemed  so  to  intensify  my  own  dirty  and  be- 
draggled appearance  that  I  hesitated  about  entering,  and  so  allowed  a  porter 
of  "  the  American  "  to  scoop  me  in.  Let  no  other  bicycling  tourist,  stranded 
in  Utica,  be  similarly  beguiled,  however ;  for,  as  respects  hotels  at  least,  there 
can  be  no  possible  doubt  that  "  Bagg's  is  the  best."  I  afterwards  learned  that 
a  telegram  was  waiting  me  there,  from  a  college  classmate,  saying  that  he 
would  meet  me  the  next  noon  at  Oneida,  and  accompany  me  thence  on  his 
wheel  to  his  home  in  Syracuse. 

My  day's  ride  to  Utica  was  37 J  m.,  and  my  ride  thence  to  Oneida,  ending 
about  half  past  5  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  was  30  m.,  the  cyclometer  regis- 
tering iioj  m.  from  the  start  at  Schenectady,  three  evenings  before.  For  2 
m.  from  the  hotel  in  Utica  I  rode  on  the  stone  and  wooden  sidewalks.  At 
Whitesboro,  perhaps  i  m.  beyond,  I  turned  1.  by  mistake  instead  of  crossing 
the  bridge  on  my  r.,  and  so,  at  the  end  of  \  m.  spin,  was  obliged  to  repeat  my 
course.  Excellent  sidewalk  riding  was  indulged  in  during  the  next  20  min. 
(2^  m.),  followed  by  2  m.  of  bad  road,  ending  i  h.  later  at  Oriskany.  Beyond 
here  (i^  m.),  having  ridden  up  two  rough  hills,  I  engaged  in  i  h.'s  chat  with 
some  men  who  persuaded  me  that  the  tow-path  was  worth  trying.  I  therefore 
plodded  along  it  for  exactly  2  m.  without  getting  a  single  chance  to  ride,  on 
account  of  the  deep  sand.  Mounting  again  on  the  highway  at  11.45,  ^  ^ound 
occasional  good  stretches,  and  reached  the  Stanwix  Hotel,  in  Rome,  5  m.  on, 
at  I  o'clock.^  Starting  thence  in  a  little  less  than  2  h.,  I  rode  or  walked  pretty 
continuously  till  5.30  P.  M.,  when  I  reached  the  railroad  station  in  Oneida, 
13I  m.  For  I  m.  or  so  out  of  Rome  the  riding  was  good  on  road  or  sidewalk. 
Then  the  track  grew  stony  and  hilly  and  only  occasionally  ridable,  till  near 
Verona ;  but  for  the  5  m.  ending  at  Oneida  it  was  nearly  all  good,  and  some 
of  it  was  very  good.  I  should  have  kept  on  wheeling  till  dark,  i  h.  or  so  later, 
had  not  the  rain  begun  gently  falling  at  5  o'clock.  By  the  time  I  got  aboard 
the  train  the  storm  grew  quite  violent ;  and  as  it  seemed  likely  to  extend  into 
the  next  day,  or  at  least  leave  the  roads  in  bad  condition  then,  I  decided  not 
to  try  any  riding  from  Syracuse,  as  originally  planned  for  Friday,  and  there- 
fore went  directly  through  by  train  to  Canandaigua,  the  objective  point  to 

Hn  Jane,  1883,  S.  A.  Freer,  Captain  of  the  Rome  B.  C,  with  two  members,  £.  P.  Hovey 
>ndW.  I.  Baxter,  wheeled  from  that  place  to  Auburn,  between  6  a.  m.  and  7.30  p.  m., — taking 
breakfast  at  Oneida,  13  m.,  and  dinner  at  Syracuse,  25  m.  beyond.  Another  member  of  the  club, 
F.  H.  White,  drove  a  56»in.  Expert  gx  m.  in  S^  h.  (Aug.  11,  '84),— going  from  Rome  to  a  place 
cded  Geddes,  beyond  Syracuse,  and  returning  immediately  by  the  same  road,  which  is  a  very 
liiQy  ODc,  with  many  soft  and  sandy  places.  later  in  the  same  month,  he  covered  the  diatanoe 
hmn  Watertown  (through  Martinsbitfg  and  Boonville)  to  Rome  in  9  h.  of  actual  riding.  "  In 
ndng,  he  holds  the  Championship  of  Oneida  nid  Madison  counties,  though  he  is  scarcely  18 
jears  of  age,  and  has  never  had  any  legaUM'^"'"'  ■    — '*  "— <J.  M.  Barton,  March  r 


202  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

which  I  had  despatched  my  valise  from  Schenectady  on  Monday.  I  after- 
wards learned  that  my  Syracuse  friend,  with  a  couple  of  other  wheelmen, 
reached  Oneida  at  noon,  having  been  5  h.  in  covering  about  25  m.  of  turnpike ; 
and  then,  not  finding  me  there,  rode  homeward  on  the  tow-path  until  over- 
taken by  the  rain,  when  they  took  passage  on  a  canal  boat.  On  the  whole,  I 
think  the  Mohawk  valley,  from  Schenectady  westward,  can  be  recommended 
to  the  touring  bicycler  who  is  content  to  make  slow  progress  through  a  pleas- 
ant country.  The  scenery  as  far  as  Utica  is  almost  all  attractive,  and  much  of 
it  is  picturesque.  From  Utica  to  Syracuse  the  prospect  is  not  quite  as  pleas- 
ing. As  for  the  paragraph  \^Bi,  Worlds  Aug.  7)  mentioning  a  ride  made  by 
H.  B.  Thompson  from  Erie  to  Little  Falls  in  four  days,  Tm  sorry  so  few  de- 
tails were  given,  for  no  other  ride  yet  reported  in  America  can  be  thought 
half  so  remarkable.  The  most  remarkable  part  of  the  ride,  however,  was 
the  "  67  m.  on  the  Erie  tow-path,"  alleged  to  have  been  made  inside  of  12  h. 

Canandaigua,  the  court-house  town  of  Ontario  County,  boasts  of  numerous 
smooth  roads,  some  of  them  macadamized,  and  several  m.  of  well-laid  flagstone 
sidewalks.  The  main  street  crosses  the  tracks  at  right  angles,  a  few  rods  west  of 
the  r.  r.  station,  and  can  be  followed  i  m.  due  s.  to  the  lake  side,  or  i  m.  due 
n.  to  the  liberty  pole.  Turning  w.  from  this  point,  on  the  afternoon  of  Sep- 
tember II,  I  rode  2  m.,  and  then  another  2  m.,  and  then  2^  m.,  ending  at  the 
r.  r.  station  in  East  Bloomfield,  about  the  streets  and  sidewalks  of  which 
pleasant  village  I  circled  another  m.  before  stabling  my  wheel  for  the  night. 
A  friend  accompanied  me  in  a  carriage,  or  rather  followed  behind  me  on  the 
road,  except  when  a  halt  was  made  for  the  sake  of  consuming  in  common  his 
supply  of  Delaware  grapes ;  and  we  both  returned  home  in  the  carriage  a  few 
hours  later.  On  Tuesday  forenoon  following,  having  taken  train  to  East 
Bloomfield,  I  rode  in  i  h.  from  the  station  there  to  the  brewery  at  the  r.  r. 
crossing,  say  \  m.  w.  of  the  flag-pole  in  Canandaigua.  The  wind  favored  me, 
and  though  I  made  three  brief  dismounts,  none  were  really  needed  in  the  6 
m.  named.  The  course  is  nearly  all  up  or  down  grade,  however,  and  though 
some  parts  were  very  smooth,  other  parts  were  of  that  sort  of  red  clay  which 
hard  rains  render  temporarily  unridable.  I  was  told  in  East  Bloomfield  that 
Rochester  wheelmen  had  frequently  ridden  thither  and  reported  comfortable 
roads.  In  the  afternoon  I  found  an  excellent  course  for  i  m.  beyond  the 
steamboat  landing  at  the  foot  of  Main  St.,  and  I  also  went  twice  around  the 
\  m.  track  at  the  trotting  park,  in  4  min.  35  sec.  This  was  the  first  occasion . 
on  which  I  ever  tried  to  ride  at  speed  for  a  given  distance,  and  have  the 
*'  time  "  accurately  taken.  I  judge  from  the  result,  that  on  a  smooth  course  I 
might  perhaps  make  i  m.  inside  of  4  min. 

The  next  afternoon,  at  Niagara,  I  rode  across  the  suspension  bridge, 
nearest  the  Falls,  and  thence  on  the  wooden  sidewalks  for  \  m.  to  the  Horse- 
shoe Fall  itself.  Retracing  the  latter  part  of  my  course,  I  kept  along  the  w. 
bank,  over  a  road  generally  unridable  because  of  stones  and  ruts,  and  after 
i^  m.  of  this  sort  of  travel,  reached  the  old  railway  bridge,  which  had  just 


ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE.  203 

been  newly  floored.  The  planks  having  been  laid  crosswise  and  evenly  fitted, 
offered  a  most  tempting  chance  for  indulging  in  brief  bursts  of  speed.  The 
other  bridge  is  narrower,  and  its  planks  are  laid  lengthwise,  and  it  is  much 
more  frequented  by  carriages  and  pedestrians ;  but  the  railroad  bridge,  at  the 
time  of  my  visit,  seemed  almost  deserted,  except  by  the  occasional  trains  that 
rumbled  above.  I  therefore  flejir  swiftly  across  it  a  good  many  times,  gazing 
up  and  down  the  river  at  the  scenery,  and  enjoying  to  the  utmost  the  novel 
sensation  of  **  riding  through  the  air,"  until  the  approaching  darkness  forced 
me  to  reluctantly  enter  the  United  States  once  more,  and  plod  along  the  im- 
perfect board  sidewalk  and  rutty  highways  until  I  reached  my  hotel.  The 
cyclometer's  record  for  the  afternoon  was  8  m.  The  ruts  worn  in  the  macadam 
of  many  of  the  Niagara  roads  by  the  constant  carriage  traffic  were  a  truly 
terrible  phenomenon.  In  some  places,  if  my  memory  serves,  nearly  a 
dozen  of  them  stretched  out  for  discouragingly  long  distances  in  regular 
parallels  about  a  foot  apart.  The  fun  on  the  bridge,  however,  seems  well 
worth  the  overcoming  of  such  obstacles  as  stand  in  the  way  of  it.  It  would 
be  a  truly  enchanting  place  for  a  friendly  trial  of  speed  between  two  or  three 
riders ;  say  in  a  dash  of  two  hundred  and  twenty  yards,  duly  chalked  off  on 
the  planks.  The  regular  toll  for  a  foot  passenger  at  either  of  the  bridges  is 
25  c,  and  no  extra  charge  is  made  when  a  bicycle  goes  with  him. 

Leaving  the  International  Hotel  in  Niagara  on  the  morning  of  September 
16,  at  about  9.30  o'clock,  a  ride  of  }  m.  carried  me  beyond  the  canal  bridge  in 
the  outskirts  of  the  village.  Thence  I  went  s.  without  stop  for  16}  m.,  in  2\  h., 
having  the  wind  against  me  all  the  way,  and  being  slightly  sprinkled  with  rain 
during  the  third  half-hour.  Most  of  the  road  is  of  very  hard  clay,  which  was  rather 
rough ;  and  beyond  Tonawanda  (where  the  bridge  almost  caused  a  dismount) 
there  is  a  long,  but  not  very  steep  hill,  which  is  the  only  grade  of  importance 
between  Niagara  and  Buffalo.  I  met  at  Black  Rock  with  rather  rough  stone 
pavements,  turned  an  angle  to  the  r.  and  then  to  the  1.,  crossed  the  canal 
bridge  with  difficulty,  and  was  then  tempted  to  try  the  sidewalk,  whose  curb 
soon  caused  a  dismount.  I  might  have  gone  without  a  stop  to  the  city  hall 
in  Buffalo,  3^  m.  further  on,  and  20  m.  from  Niagara,  had  I,  after  crossing  the 
canal  bridge,  stuck  to  the  highway  for  a  few  rods,  until  I  reached  Forest  st., 
the  first  on  the  I.,  then  gone  down  this  }  m.,  over  a  tolerably  smooth  pave- 
ment, to  the  Lincoln  parkway ;  up  this  to  the  r.,  and  then  on  r.  branch  to 
Bidwell  parkway ;  then  left  at  quite  an  angle  down  the  avenue  to  the  circle ; 
thence  at  right  angles  on  Porter  av.  to  Niagara  st.  (thus  far  on  perfect 
macadam) ;  and  down  this  on  the  flags  of  the  1.  sidewalk  to  the  city  hall. 
Such  is  the  route  which  I  really  did  take  after  receiving  instructions  at  Black 
Rock.  Proceeding  down  Main  st.  on  the  sidewalks,  I  reached  the  Mansion 
House  4  h.  from  the  start,  distance  22^  m.  After  a  stop  until  nearly  4  o'clock, 
I  began  a  2  m.  progress  which  carried  me  beyond  the  city  limits  to  the  shore 
of  Lake  Erie  and  the  sand  slough  into  which  its 'overflowing  waters  has 
transformed  the  highway.    For  almost  2  m.  little  riding  could  be  done,  and 


204  7"^^^*  TNOrSAAJ?  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


the  walking  was  otflca  (fiftndL  lw«  a  Boir  bdbve  reaching  the  Half  Way 
House,  I  momited  if:a»  aad  wcbc  4  m^  br  cxceUcot  road,  to  Bay  View 
House.  After  S  m.  aore  of  ;*(Md  ridaig.  daifaaess  orertook  me ;  also  an 
honest  fanner,  who  sakl  I  ii^x^«  strr  ovmi^  at  his  stone  house,  i  m.  be- 
yond.    Thence,  theretore,  1  walkni  arrrm^  at  7.30  P.  M^  58  m.  from  Niagara. 

The  next  day,  betw«ea  r  a.  m.  aad  iMf^F,  M-,  I  rode  along  Lake  Erie  a 
distance  which  the  crvkxatter  respfccred  at  a  triilc  less  than  73  m.  I  started 
at  the  farmer's  stone  hovsc;  ^wae  i-  ».  beiov  Bofialo,  and  finished  at  the  Reed 
House  in  Erie,  whither  1  hW  oe^cvuczied  »t  baggage  the  previous  morning, 
when  I  left  Niagara.  The  socaH-ed  Ri^^  Road,  which  I  have  mentioned  as 
beginning  to  be  ndable  4  wu  trv«  Rt^alA.  continues  along  the  lake  side  for 
something  more  than  100  bl  la  a  »rw  cases  it  approaches  close  to  the 
water,  but  its  general  course  i$  1  or  3  m.  reaored  from  the  same.  Sometimes 
the  intervening  land  is  even  wider,  thocgh  the  rider  cannot  go  many  m. 
without  finding  the  lake  on  his  horiiofi  at  the  n.  or  w.,  and  certain  of  the 
water  views  are  extremely  attractiTe.  Fine  sand,  whose  particles  have  the 
quality  of  packing  tightly  toc^ether,  ts  the  materia]  of  which  the  road  is  formed, 
and  some  parts  of  it  are  equal  to  the  best  macadam.  I  have  not  yet  heard  of 
any  other  American  rtad,  even  approximately  as  long,  whose  average  smooth- 
ness is  equal  to  this  one.  ^ 

My  first  dismount  of  Friday  was  caosed  by  a  log  in  the  roadway,  just  11  m. 
from  the  start ;  time,  1  h.  so  min.,  during  which  I  had  climbed  several  stiff 
hills,  and  generally  faced  a  brisk  brcexe.  I  was  almost  i  h.  in  getting  over 
the  next  4  m.  to  Silver  Creek,  where  I  stopped  i  h.  for  breakfast,  and  at 
whose  hotel  I  should  have  spent  the  previocB  night,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
delay  caused  in  getting  clear  of  Buffalo.  Many  dismounts  were  needed  in 
that  4  m.,  as  at  Cattaraugus  creek,  and  Irving  post-office,  and  the  big  elm- 
trees  by  the  brook  at  the  foot  of  a  long  hill,  ap  which  I  walked.    Leaving 


'The  <iate  *'  1880  ^  must  be  remembered  as  attaching  to  this  remark.  Three  years  later,  in 
the  course  of  my  1,400  m.  straightaway  torn*,  I  fovnd  four  ocher  too  m.  stretches,  which  are  fairly 
comparaUe  to  this  one,  —  the  first  three  of  than  being  in  Canada  Between  Windsor,  which  is 
opposite  Detroit,  and  Qcarfield,  I  traversed  100  ra.  with  scarcely  any  walking.  Most  of  the 
course  was  along  the  n.  shore  of  Lake  Erie ;  and,  on  the  first  day  of  my  tour  (Oct.  8,  ^Sj),  I 
rode  nearly  73  m.,  or  almost  exactly  the  distance  ridden  on  this  first  day  of  mine  along  the  s.  of 
the  lake,  —  though  I  look  no  other  sudi  long  dajr's  ride  daring  the  three  intermediate  years. 
Three  days  later  I  rode  from  London  n.  e.  to  Godericfa  on  Lake  Huron,  and  then  s.  e.  to  Mitch- 
ell, 100  m.,  in  20  h.  The  third  Canadian  str^ch  of  100  m.  of  smooth  roadway  is  between  Co- 
burg  and  Kingston,  along  the  shore  of  Lake  Ontario  and  the  St.  Lawrence  river.  The  longest 
and  best  macadamized  roadway  in  the  United  States,  I  found  in  Virginia,  stretching  through  the 
Shenandoah  Valley,  in  a  n.  and  s.  line  for  150  m.  Its  hills  are  all  ridable  by  the  bicycle,  but  the 
number  of  them  and  the  difficult  grades  of  some,  render  the  course  inferior  to  the  Ridge  road 
along  Lake  Erie  as  the  scene  of  a  too-m.  race.  Thomas  Stevens  told  me  that  this  was  by  ixt  the 
smoothest  stretch  which  he  met  vrith  in  trailing  across  the  continent  from  San  Francisco  to 
ton  (3,700  m.)*  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  the  best  e.  and  w.  iy>|>4.itf|he  UaMMu  Ko4 
has  answered  my  challenge  of  four  year  ago,  by  trying  to  "  print  a  '  *-    - 

for  long-distance  racing  "  ;  and  I  am  sure  that  no  such  courr 


ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE. 


205 


Silver  Creek  at  10.15  A.  M.,  I  arrived  at  the  hotel  in  Fredonia  z  h.  later,  and 

rested  there  for  a  somewhat  longer  period.     The  distance  was  12  m.  over  an 

excellent  track,  though  I  made  several  dismounts  for  the  sake  of  visiting 

apple  orchards,  cider  mills,  and  the  like.     Westfield,  not  quite  15  m.  on,  was 

reached  at  4.30  F.  H.,  in.  a  little  less  than  i  h.,  and  here  I  loafed  ^  h.  on  the 

:  of  small  boys.    Not  long  afterwards  I  crossed 

and  at  7.10  reached  the  Haynes  Hotel  in  North 

n  tlie  start, — iz  h.  before.    This  was  7  m.  more 

record,"  and  I  should  not  have  attempted  to 

id  rushed  on.  were  it  not  that  llie  vision  of  the 

e,  some  15  m.  beyond,  irresistibly  beckoned  me 

ind  be  cleaned.     The  adverse  wind  of  the  day 

road  was  reported  lo  me  lo  be  smooth  and 

lise  of  lighting  the  way.   Starting  at  3.15,  riding 

1,  and  walliiiig  when  the  clouds  obscured  its 

«lk8  of  Erie,  jusi  14  m.,  in  exactly  3  h.   Rather 

tie  hotel,  inside  of  which  I  found  my  valise,  in- 

y  night-shirt,  inside  of  which  night-shirt  sleep 

ipose  I  had  fairly  earned. 

an  4  h.,  however,  for  the  rattling  of  breakfast 
,t  9.30  I  mounted  my  wheel  again  for  an  excur- 
Dck,  when  the  cyclometer  registered  the  com- 
riding  of  18S0,  I  made  my  second  mount  and 
(oaded  me  to  slop.  The  green  in  Girard,  16} 
1,30  P.  M.  Beyond  here,  5  m,,  40  min,  of  riding 
Springfield,  where,  for  its  dear  name's  sake,  I 
e  best  thing  I  couid  do  lo  "  celebrate  "  West 
her  on,  and  which  occupies  the  extreme  n.  w. 

0  take  a  drink  at  the  public  pump  in  front  of 
)  at  440  P.  M.  in  front  of  the  Stale  Line  House, 

1  two  Stales, — the  distance  being  28  m.  from 
shtabula,  which  I  reached  at  S.lo  P.  M.  (16  m.), 
',  and  in  many  cases  quite  unridable,  and  about 
was  on  the  sidewalks.  Darkness  forced  me  to 
7  m.,  though  the  moonlight  would  once  in  a 
courage  a  mount.  A  midnight  ride  lo  the  r. 
record  (o  45  m.,  and  so  made  the  length  of  my 

■ly  as  a  day  of  rest,  though  it  was  3  a.  m.  when 
I  House,  in  Erie.  On  this  second  occasion,  I 
he  tattle  of  the  breakfast  dishes  troubled  me 
to  »ti«i  n(  the  previous  days,  was  oppressively 
Vakelield's  travels  was  as  vigorous 
Monday's  ajr  was  cooler,  and  I 


2o6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

started  off  from  the  r.  r.  station  soon  after  lo  o'clock,  in  the  face  of  a  threat- 
ened "  equinoctial  storm."  A  few  slight  sprinkles  of  rain,  during  the  second 
hour,  formed  the  sole  fulfillment  of  this  threat,  and  the  afternoon  was  clear 
and  bright,  as  was  also  the  rest  of  the  week.  From  Erie  to  Fredonia  my 
course  retraced  that  of  Friday,  but  the  wind  was  at  my  back  instead  of  in  my 
face,  and  this  third  day's  ride  along  the  lake  supplied  the  swiftest  and 
pleasantest  day's  wheeling  that  I  have  ever  anywhere  enjoyed.  In  2  h.  7 
min.  from  the  start,  I  reached  the  Haynes  Hotel,  in  North  East,  13^  m., — 
the  last  3  m.  having  been  made  at  a  very  rapid  pace.  I  stopped  only  \  h.  for 
dinner,  and  soon  afterwards,  at  1.25  p.  M.,  mounted  at  the  top  of  the  hill  be- 
yond the  creek,  stopping  exactly  i  h.  later  near  the  top  of  the  hill  by  the 
Green  at  Westfield,  ii^^m.  This  was  by  far  the  fastest  hour's  ride  I  ever 
made,  and  I  covered  6  m.  in  the  last  \  h.,  for  I  made  one  brief  stop  to  avoid 
the  chance  of  frightening  a  lady's  horse. 

My  intention  had  been  to  go  from  Westfield  to  Mayville,  and  there  take 
a  Chautauqua  Lake  steamer  to  Jamestown,  going  thence  by  train  to  Salamanca 
to  meet  the  baggage  I  had  despatched  thither.  But  I  was  told  that  the  road 
to  Mayville  was  "  all  up-hill,"  and  that  I  should  be  too  late  to  catch  the  after- 
noon steamer.  So,  after  20  min.  stop,  I  continued  on  the  old  road,  and  soon 
got  the  first  and  only  tumble  of  my  500-m.  vacation  tour.  The  cause  of  this 
was  that  in  turning  from  the  roadway  to  the  sidewalk,  I  neglected  to  allow 
for  the  velocity  with  which  the  wind  was  helping  me  along.  At  4  o'clock  I 
stopped  20  min.  to  inspect  a  steam  apple-drying  establishment  at  Portland, 
and  in  the  next  40  min.  rode  5^  m.  to  the  hotel  at  Fredonia.  Turning  off 
there  from  my  Friday's  route,  I  reached  the  r.  r.  station  in  Dunkirk  at  5.50 
p.  M.,  having  made  nearly  47  m.  in  6  h.  actual  riding  time,  though  I  was  about 
1}  h.  longer  on  the  road.     I  took  train  for  Salamanca  at  6. 

The  ride  alleged  to  have  been  made  in  July  last,  on  a  54-inch  wheel,  by 
H.  B.  Thompson,  of  Erie,  from  that  city  to  Buffalo,  in  8  h.  (a  distance  of  90 
m.  by  my  cyclometer),  was  the  inspiring  cause  of  my  own  ride  on  the  same 
track ;  and  I  hope  this  present  detailed  report  of  my  experiences  there  will 
tempt  many  other  riders  to  make  trial  of  it.  By  starting  at  Girard,  they  will 
find  good  roads  for  100  m.  straightaway,  before  reaching  the  sand  slough  on 
the  outskirts  of  Buffalo.  If  a. longer  ride  is  desired,  the  start  may  be  made 
at  West  Springfield,  but  I  cannot  recommend  any  one  to  go  beyond  that 
point.  On  general  principles,  indeed.  West  Springfield  is  my  nt  plus  ultra. 
My  belief  is  that  the  grades  are  rather  better,  and  that  the  winds  are  more 
apt  to  be  favorable  in  riding  towards  Buffalo  than  in  riding  from  it,  on  the 
road  I  have  described.  If  a  better  course  for  long-distance  racing  exists  in 
this  country,  I  trust  that  some  one  who  knows  about  it  may  write  a  descripv 
tion  thereof  for  the  public  prints. 

On  the  following  day  (September  21)  at  4  p.  M.,  after  riding  250  m.  by 
train,  I  made  a  start  on  the  rough  wooden  pavements  of  Binghamton,  and  2  h. 
later,  when  darkness  stopped  my  wheeling,  I  had  progressed  only  8  m.  towards 


ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE.  207 

Great  Bend,  my  objective  point.  I  reached  the  Godfrey  House  there,  7  m. 
beyond,  at  8.37  o'clock,  having  made  one  or  two  brief  mounts  when  the 
moonlight  allowed.  I  think  the  latter  half  of  this  road  would  have  made 
fair  wheeling  by  daylight,  but  much  of  the  first  half  of  it  was  unridable 
because  of  the  deep  dust  and  abundant  stones.  Taking  train  at  4  o'clock 
next  morning  for  a  4  h.  ride  to  Port  Jervis,  I  breakfasted  there,  assumed  my 
last  clean  suit,  and  sent  my  valise  home  to  New  York.  Then  at  9.30  I  be- 
gan to  propel  my  wheel  southward,  down  the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Delaware, 
over  the  well-known  track  made  of  powdered  rock  that  has  been  sifted  out 
from  the  overhanging  cliffs.  Six  hours  from  the  start,  having  made  a  few 
detours,  and  stopped  for  dinner  at  the  Half- Way  House,  from  i  to  2  o'clock, 
I  reached  the  bridge  at  Bushkill,  29}  m.  At  the  cross-roads  by  Jim  Price's 
house,  4}  m.  beyond,  I  turned  to  the  I.,  having  walked  most  of  this  distance 
save  the  last  m.  Then  the  roads  gradually  improved,  so  that  in  my  last  h.  of 
daylight  I  accomplished  upwards  of  5  m.  An  hour  later,  at  7.30  P.  M.,  I  reached 
the  Kittatinny  Hotel,  at  the  Delaware  Water  Gap,  41  m.  from  the  start  at 
Port  Jervis.  This  last  3^  m.,  which  I  walked  in  the  darkness,  would 
probably  have  been  good  riding  by  daylight. 

Starting  again  at  8.45  A.  M.,  I  accomplished  30}  m.  before  7  P.  M.,  when  I 
stopped  at  the  hotel  in  Stanhope.  This  day's  experience,  like  that  of  the 
second  afternoon  previous,  bore  a  close  resemblance  to  the  Irishman's  with 
the  sedan  chair  whose  bottom  was  gone, — "  Except  for  the  name  of  it  I'd 
about  as  lief  walk."  I  mention  the  route  in  order  to  warn  all  bicyclers  against 
these  particular  "Jersey  hills,"  where  there  is  no  "  coasting"  at  all,  and  only 
precious  little  riding  of  any  sort.  I  stopped  i  h.  for  dinner  at  Blairstown,  and 
made  another  pause  at  Johnsonsbury,  5  m.  on.  The  next  5  m.  stretch,  to  Ala- 
moochy,  supplied  the  best  riding  of  the  day.  Then  followed  a  3  m.  walk  up 
and  down  the  mountain  to  Waterloo,  then  a  2  m.  ride,  and  finally  a  2  m.  tramp 
on  the  canal  tow-path  to  Stanhope.  I  left  there  at  6.25  a.  m.,  on  the  24th, 
and  went  to  Drakesville,  whence  I  had  2  m.  of  good  sidewalk  riding  through 
McCainsville,  till  I  turned  off  on  the  1.  at  the  post  which  said  "4  m.  to  Dover." 
I  reached  the  hotel  there  at  9  o'clock,  10}  m.  from  the  start,  and  stopped  40 
min.  for  breakfast.  Thence  through  Rockaway,  Denville  and  Persippany, 
where  I  went  astray  from  the  main  track,  until  at  i.io  P.  m.,  22  m.  from  the 
start,!  reached  the  post  which  said  "  16  m.  to  Newark."  After  this  the  roads 
began  to  improve  somewhat,  allowing  me  to  do  more  riding  than  walking,  and 
in  I  h.  I  reached  Pine  Brook  post-office,  which  is  the  end  of  the  stage  route 
from  Newark.  Just  beyond  here  was  a  tavern  where  I  secured  a  comfortable 
lunch,  and  then,  at  2.30  P.  M.,  I  began  upon  my  first  real  riding  of  the  day. 
So  pleasant  did  it  seem  to  be  on  a  smooth  track  once  more  that  I  circled 
about  for  several  miles  at  haphazard  on  the  avenues  of  Orange  before  finally 
setting  my  face  towards  the  big  city,  where  I  ended  up  the  day  with  a  spin 
around  the  fountain  in  Washington  Square,  at  7.30  P.  M.,  53  m.  from  the  start. 
This  made  187}  m.  for  the  last  five  days  (say  an  average  of  37  m.),  and  495  m. 


2o8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A   BICYCLE. 

for  the  fifteen  riding  days  of  my  tour,  which  began  at  Schenectady  on  the  6th 
of  September.  (It  was  not  until  three  years  later  that  I  indulged  in  a  longer 
journey,  by  wheeling  straightaway  from  Michigan  to  Virginia.) 


'From  the  report  of  route  between  Boston  and  Buffalo,  given  {Wheelman^  Dec,  1883,  pp. 
199-302)  by  W.  H.  Butler,  a  student  of  Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  who  celebrated  the  com- 
pletion of  a  course  of  study  there  in  the  summer  of  '83,  by  wheeling  to  his  home  in  Olean,  N. 
Y.,  600  ra.  across  two  States,  I  condense  the  following  summary  :  "  Leaving  Boston,  July  3, 
on  a  53-in.  Invincible,  unencumbered  with  baggage,  I  breakfasted  at  Natick,  toiled  through  the 
mud  by  Shrewsbury  route  to  Worcester  at  3.45  p.  m.,  and  took  train  to  Palmer,  as  I  was  told  the 
intermediate  sand  was  well-nigh  impassable.  Reached  Springfield  at  3  p.  m.  next  day,  with  a 
record  of  32  m.  in  4  h.;  and  early  on  5th  covered  10  m.  to  Westfield,  not  much  the  worse  for 
mud,  and  spent  rest  of  day  in  dn^3;ing  myself  through  Russell,  to  the  Mountain  House  b  Bland- 
ford,  where  stayed  all  night  The  view  to  be  had  at  this  point  pays  one  for  the  struggle,  and 
the  picture  of  the  valley  beneath  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  can  never  be  foigotten.  The  fourth 
day  took  me  to  West  Stockbridge,  29  m.,  by  way  of  N.  Blandford,  W.  Becket  and  £.  Lee. 
Starting  early  on  Saturday,  I  crossed  the  State  line  at  7  o'clock  (having  traversed  160  m.  in 
Massachusetts  in  34  h.  of  actual  travel),  and  found  the  roads  improved  rapidly,  though  there 
were  many  hiils  to  mount,  as  I  passed  through  E.  Chatham,  Maiden  Bridge,  W.  Nassau  and  E. 
Schodack.  I  rested  there  for  the  day  on  account  of  intense  heat,  and  then  proceeded  to  Troy 
where  I  stayed  Sunday.  Starting  at  4.30  a.  m.  on  the  9th,  I  breakfasted  at  Riverside  Paik,  8 
m.,  and  then  proceeded  to  Saratoga,  32  m.  in  3^  h.,  the  hard  day  road  being  in  fine  condition. 
I  took  a  spin  to  the  lake,  next  day,  and  found  other  excellent  roads  in  the  village,  but  no  wheel- 
men using  them.  On  the  nth,  I  had  a  pleasant  run  of  25  m.  through  Ballston  Spa  to  the 
'  Flats,'  and  then  tried  the  Erie  tow-path  to  Schenectady  at  2.30  p.  m.,  dismounting  for  every 
team,  after  the  first  pair  of  mules  which  I  met  had  pawed  the  air  for  joy  and  caused  their  driver 
to  '-stand  from  under.'  For  8  m.  towards  Amsterdam  I  pushed  my  machine  over  the  lumps 
where  the  '  repairers '  liad  plowed  up  the  road ;  then,  almost  fainting,  beneath  the  boiling  sun, 
I  turned  in  at  a  farm  house  for  the  night.  Between  6  and  7.30,  next  morning,  I  wheeled  to 
Amsterdam,  9  m.,  and  then  to  Fonda,  8  m.,  where  stayed  at  Snell  House,  on  account  of  heat, 
till  3.30,  and  rode  to  Palatine  Bridge,  14  m.  in  i  h.  10  min.;  thence  passed  rapidly  and  without 
dismount  through  Fort  Plain,  St.  Johnsville  and  Little  Falls  to  Herkimer, — making  57  m.  for 
the  day.  Spent  Friday  vbiting  places  of  local  interest  (including  the  Spinner  fcurm,  whence  an 
excellent  view  of  the  valley  up  and  down,  for  25  m.,  is  to  be  had),  and  on  Saturday  made  loi^ 
halts  at  the  Remington  works  in  Ilion  and  with  friends  at  Utica,  riding  thence  after  supper, 
with  two  club  men,  to  Rome,  17  m.,  in  xh.  40  min.;  my  forenoon's  ride  having  also  been  17  m., 
from  Herkimer  to  Utica.  A  heavy  rain  lasted  during  all  of  Sunday,  but  I  made  an  early  start 
next  morning,  and  after  passing  Verona,  Oneida  and  Canastota,  took  to  the  railway  at  Lenox, 
and  rode  between  the  tracks  20  m.  to  Syracuse  at  2  o'clock ;  thence  by  highway  through  Camil- 
lus,  Marcellus,  and  Elbridge  to  Sen;tte  at  9.  The  next  day,  the  rain  kept  me  at  Auburn  (5  m.) 
from  9  A.  M.  to  5  p.  M.,  and  I  was  3  h.  in  covering  the  8  m.  thence  to  Cayuga.  Wednesday  led 
me  along  fine  scenery  and  excellent  roads,  through  Seneca  Falls  and  Waterloo  to  Geneva ;  thence, 
after  supper,  to  Canandaigua,  16  m.  further^  at  9.45  p.  m.;  and  late  on  Thursday  afternoon  I  rode 
rapidly  through  E.  and  W.  Bloomfield  to  Lima.  Friday,  witnessed  my  longest  ride,  80  m.  (be- 
tween 7.30  A.  M.  and  10  p.  M.)  in  9  h.  of  actual  travel.  I  made  a  detour  from  Caledonia  in  order 
to  visit  the  State  fish-hatching  establishment,  and  rolled  through  Le  Roy  to  Batavia,  whence  the 
road  is  hard  most  of  the  way  to  Buffalo ;  but  I  turned  off  from  it  at  Alden  and  went  to  Lancaster. 
Thence,  on  the  final  day,  I  made  Buffalo,  by  plank  road,  in  a  little  more  than  x  h.,  continuing 
thence  through  £.  Aurora,  Yorkshire  and  Franklinville  to  Olean  at  xx.30  p.  m.  This  com- 
pleted  my  tour  of  615  m.,  in  a  little  more  than  13  days  of  travel  Quly  3-3  x),  which  included  98^ 
h.  on  the  road."  It  is  to  be  observed  that  the  most  difficult  section  of  this  journey  was  between 
Westfield  and  Lee,  along  the  same  roads  described  by  me  on  p.  xax  as  the  worst  in  a  aoo-m.  tour. 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS.' 

It  can  hardly  be  called  the  part  of  wisdom  to  start  on  a.n  open-air  pleasure' 
trip  just  in  advance  of  the  time  when  the  equinoctial  storm  is  eipected ;  but 
inasmuch  as  in  iSSo  I  rode  pietcy  continuously  from  the  6lh  to  tlic  14th  of 
September  without  bemg  much  interfered  with  by  rain,  I  made  bold,  in  1881, 
to  begin  a  long  tour  on  the  19th  of  that  month  by  taking  a  "  day-line  "  steamer 
up  the  Hudson  from  New  York  to  Albany.    The  wind  was  from  the  ».,  but 
the  sun  shone  brilliantly,  so  that  the  heat  was  extreme,  spile  of  the  motion  of 
the  boat.    As  Alt>any  was  approached,  about  nightfall,  clouds  obscured  the 
sky,  and  there  arose  a  tremendous  whirlwind  of  dust,  accompanied  by  a  few 
drops  of  rain.    Five  hours  later  I  started  for  Utica  on  a  train  that  soon  en- 
countered a  rain-storm,  which  still  continued  when  I  reached  Chat  city,  at 
half-pasi  I  in  the  morning,  and  hurried  across  lo  the  shelter  of  Bagg's  Hotel. 
It  had  long  been  my  ambition  to  enrol!  myself  among  Ihe  guests  of  that  an- 
cient and  honorable  caravansary  i  but  fate  had  hitherto  frustrated  my  hopes. 
Now,  at  last,  I  was  on  the  point  of   being  gratified,  and  of   slumbering 
loundly  in  "  the  »ery  best  room  in  (he  hotel,"  as  a  reward  for  my  previous 
wp.     But  no  t    This  dream  of  bliss  was  rudely 
suffered  a  tremendous  shock  when  the  night 
IS  jammed  full,  and  that  "a  cot  in  Che  parlor 
me."    As  I  couldn't  well  look  elsewhere  for 
t  hour  of  the  morning,  I  had  no  option  but  to 
iesignated  "  parlor,"  though  I  found  it  already 
ts  of  "  cots,"  who  had  closed  all  the  window*, 
egard  of  the  stifling  atmosphere.     Amid  these 
lelplessty  gnashed  my  teeCh   for  four  morCat 
plunge  in  the  bath-tub,  and  went  down  to  the 
'ith  G.  C.  S.,who  bad  come  to  Utica  by  ap- 
hc  ride  togelhet  thence  to  Alexandria  Bay,  on 
.  away.    The  breakfast  was  not  much  better 
paid  for  at  a  good,  stiff  price, 
storm  of  the  previous  day  and  night  had  badly 
at  direction,  and,  perhaps,  made  them  nnrida- 
casional  drizzle  of  rain,  gave  threats  of  further 
I  o'clock,  we  decided  to  lake  the  chances,  and 
e  of  a  local  wheelman,  along  the  stone,  brick, 

I83,  pp.  if^iSJ  ("Kour  HuDdrcd  Milei"). 


210  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

and  wooden  sidewalks,  to  the  end  of  the  dirt-walk  in  Whitestown, — 5}  m.  in 
}  h.  (Our  pilot  was  one  of  the  pair  who  recently  rode  their  wheels  from 
Utica  to  Detroit  If  I  rightly  understood  him,  their  cyclometers  registered 
the  distance  at  600  m.,  and  they  covered  it  in  eleven  days,  on  one  of  which 
they  did  no  riding.  This  average  of  60  m.  a  day  seemed  to  me  a  remarkable 
exploit,  and  I'm  sorry  a  minute  report  of  the  tour  has  not  yet  been  prepared 
for  publication.)  The  track  thus  far  was  identical  with  that  traveled  by  me 
in  1880^  on  the  way  westward  to  Oriskany  and  Rome ;  but  soon  after  our 
guide  left  us,  at  the  end  of  the  path  in  Whitestown,  we  turned  to  the  r.,  and 
went  by  a  somewhat  winding  road,  through  Marcy,'to  the  hotel  in  Holland 
Patent,  9  m.  in  3  h.  After  halting  i  h.  for  lunch,  we  jogged  on  6^  m.  further 
to  Moore's  Hotel,  at  Trenton  Falls,  and  there,  at  5.30  o'clock,  halted  for  the 
night;  whole  distance,  21  m.  The  mud  did  not  give  the  expected  trouble,  and 
no  more  rain  fell ;  but  the  track  was  generally  damp  enough  to  be  rather 
heavy,  especially  on  the  up  grades,  of  which  there  were  a  good  many,  and  the 
sand  and  stones  were  more  abundant  than  comfort  demanded.  Still,  at  its 
best,  the  road  would  not  be  called  a  bad  one. 

We  planned  to  start  at  6  the  following  morning,  for  a  long  ride  to  Water- 
town;  but  the  rain  was  falling  heavily  at  that  hour,  and  so  we  abandoned  all 
further  hope  of  touring  together.  My  companion  took  train  at  noon  for  his 
home  in  the  town  just  named,  and  I  spent  the  day  in  exploring  the  falls  and 
enjoying  their  surpassing  beauties.  I  never,  anywhere,  chanced  upon  a  more 
pleasantly  solitary  spot,  and  I  hope  I  may  be  permitted  to  revisit  it  many 
times  hereafter.  The  hotel  —  which  was  a  good  one,  as  may  be  judged  by  its 
charge  of  $3.50  a  day  —  was  just  upon  the  point  of  closing  its  "  season  " ; 
and  I  believe  its  annual  opening  time  is  about  the  first  of  June.  Near  its 
gates,  however,  was  a  less  pretentious  but  neat-looking  establishment,  which 
I  think  receives  visitors  all  the  year  round.  On  Friday,  the  22d,  I  mounted 
at  6.10  A.  M.,  and  in  i^  h.  had  retraced  my  course  of  two  days  before  to  the 
hotel  in  Holland  Patent,  riding  almost  all  the  way,  though  I  had  walked  a 
good  deal  on  the  previous  occasion.  My  cyclometer  fell  short  \  m.  from  its 
previous  record  of  the  same  distance.  After  stopping  i  h.  for  breakfast,  I 
journeyed  towards  Rome,  7  m.  without  a  dismount,  the  time  being  55  min.^ 


*In  a  talk  (Feb.  25,  '85)  with  a  rider  of  this  town,  J.  M.  Barton,  a  road  of  47  m.  extending 
from  Rome  to  the  Adirondack  region,  was  described  so  attractively  that  I  shall  improve  the  first 
chance  which  comes  to  me  for  making  trial  of  it  The  approximate  distances,  as  he.  recalled 
them  were  these  :  Floyd,  7^  m. ;  Holland  Patent,  3}  m. ;  Trenton  Village,  3^^  m. ;  Prospect, 
about  3  m.  (Bagg's  Hotel  recommended),  whence  a  good  plank  road  leads  to  Gang  Mills,  a  m., 
where  passage  is  made  across  West  Canada  creek,  which  separates  the  counties  of  Oneida  and 
Herkimer.  This  is  the  same  stream  whose  waters  make  the  adorable  Trenton  Falls ;  and  the 
gorge  at  Prospect  (19  m.  from  Utica)  is  said  to  be  finer  than  anything  at  Trenton.  Between 
Gang  Mills  and  Grant  (3  m.),  the  road  is  rather  rough  at  first  and  then  sandy ;  and  the  next  11 
m.  ending  at  Wilmot  Comers,  are  about  the  poorest  of  all.  The  Wilmot  House  here,  kept 
by  a  well-known  guide,  is  commonly  called  from  him  "  Ed.  Wilkinson's,*'  and  is  a  sort  of  land- 
mark and  rendezvous.    About  i  m.  before  reaching  it,  the  traveler  must  climb  a  steep  and  long 


212  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

On  that  occasion  I  wisely  rushed  on,  over  a  smooth  road,  to  the  r.  r.  station 
in  Oneida ;  but  now  I  took  shelter  on  a  piazza,  and  waited  more  than  i  h. 
'*  for  the  shower  to  pass  by.**  But  it  did  not  pass  by  worth  a  cent,  but  rather 
changed  into  a  hopelessly  steady  rain ;  and  so,  when  the  clay  of  the  street 
had  got  good  and  slippery,  I  mounted  again  and  rode  3  m.  through  rain  and 
the  mud  and  the  puddles,  until,  at  2.40  P.  M.,  I  reached  the  Eagle  Hotel  in 
that  city,  Si^m.  from  Trenton  Falls. 

The  rain  continued  all  the  afternoon  and  for  a  good  share  of  the  night, 
so  that,  on  Saturday  morning,  I  feared  the  highway  to  Syracuse  would  be 
hopelessly  muddy,  and  hence  took  the  train  thither  at  9,  after  circling  a  little 
over  the  wooden  sidewalks  of  Oneida.  The  path  between  the  double  tracks 
of  the  railroad  was  quite  free  from  mud,  however,  and  looked  so  smooth  and 
hard  that  I  think  I  might  easily  have  driven  my  wheel  along  it  the  whole  25 
m.  in  the  course  of  the  forenoon.  In  Syracuse  I  called  on  a  college  class- 
mate, to  express  my  regret  that  the  rain  of  1880  had  upset  our  plan  of  riding 
in  from  Oneida  together,  and  he  proposed,  as  a  compensation,  that  I  join  in 
with  his  present  scheme,  of  devoting  three  days  of  the  following  week  to  a 
loo-m.  circuit  of  the  region  around  Syracuse,  in  company  with  two  other 
wheelmen.  Leaving  my  machine  in  his  care,  therefore,  I  went  by  train  to 
Canandaigua  to  pass  the  three  intervening  days  with  a  friend.  At  the  last 
moment,  however,  I  was  obliged  to  telegraph  my  inability  to  participate  in 
the  loo-m.  run, —  which  I  understand  proved  a  most  pleasant  one  to  the  trio 
who  did  participate, —  and  it  was  not  until  1.15  p.  m.,  of  Thursday,  September 
28,  that  I  really  mounted  my  wheel  at  the  canal  bridge  in  Syracuse,  and  rode 
along  the  n.  sidewalk  of  Genesee  St.,  i^  m.,  to  the  suburb  called  Geddes.  Ca- 
millus  was,  perhaps,  6  or  7  m.  beyond,  and  the  descent  into  it  was  so  steep 
that  I  preferred  to  walk  much  of  it,  and  the  ascent  beyond  was  so  steep  and 
stony  and  sandy  that  I  was  obliged  to  walk  all  of  it.  With  this  exception,  I 
think  the  road  was  ridable  all  the  afternoon,  though  it  led  through  a  rolling 
country,  and  was  never  level  for  more  than  a  short  distance.  Elbridge,  15 
m.  from  the  start,  was  reached  at  4.20;  Senate,  5  m.,  at  5.25;  and  Auburn, 
5i  m.,  at  6.25.  The  clerk  of  the  Osborn  House,  which  is  the  only  good  hotel 
in  town,  has  my  thanks  for  supplying  me  with  a  comfortable  room,  though 
the  place  was  so  overcrowded,  by  reason  of  a  fireman's  parade,  that  when  I 
extracted  my  bicycle  from  the  public  reading-room,  at  6  o'clock  the  next  morn- 
ing, I  found  a  dozen  men  snoring  there  on  cots. 

I  kept  the  sidewalk  for  2  m.,  and  then  rode  7  m.  more  to  the  hotel  beside 
Cayuga  lake,  where  I  stopped  1}  h.  for  breakfast.  Mounting  again  at  9,  I 
was  accompanied  2  m.  up  the  tow-path  by  a  local  rider.  There,  at  the  bridge,  I 
turned  off  on  the  branch  canal,  and  reached  Seneca  Falls,  4  m.  on,  at  10. 
Beyond  this  point  the  path  gradually  grew  rougher,  so  that  I  left  it  in  about 
2  m.,  and  tried  2  m.  of  rather  rough  and  rutty  highway  riding,  which  brought 
me  past  the  village  of  Waterloo  at  10.50.  It  was  just  noon  when  I  reached 
the  bridge  spanning  the  outlet  of  Seneca  lake,  3}  m.  on,  and  came  in  sight  of 


N/AGAXA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS.   113 

Gtneva,  z\  m.  beyond.  The  TOftd  Ear  moat  of  that  distance  lay  close  bnide 
ibe  beaeljfully  blue  watccs  of  the  lake,  and  a  }  m.  of  deep  sand  supplied  the 
onl]'  really  unridablc  section  encountered  during  the  entire  day.  Leaving 
Geneva  at  2.30  P.  M.,  after  a  rest  of  i  h.,  1  made  my  ia%x.  hal:  on  a  hill-top  at 
3  o'dock,  about  4  m.  out  Two  milea  beyond  this,  at  3.40,  I  encountered  the 
sign  "  ID  m.  to  Canandaigua,"  and  at  5.20  I  reached  the  r.  r.  station  in  that 
town,  just  10  m.  by  the  cyclometer.  I  wheeled  around  on  the  sidewalks  for 
aboul  I  m.  more  before  going  to  my  friend's  house  for  the  night,  making  my 
entire  record  for  the  day  41}  m.  The  next  forenoon,  which  was  (he  final  one 
in  September,  I  rode  from  Canandaigua  to  East  Bloomfield  in  ijh.,  the  dis- 
tance being  9  m.  by  actual  survey,  though  my  cyclometer  called  it  i^  m.  less. 
Resuming  my  ride  at  3^0,  I  reached  West  Bloomfield,  6  m.,  at  4.30;  Lima, 
3\  m.,  at  5.10 1  West  Avon,  5}  m.,  at  6.05 ;  and  Avon  Springs,  i  m.,  through 
tbedcepdust  andin  the  gathering  dusk,  at  6.1S.  The  cyclometer  called  the  dis- 
tance from  East  Bloomfield  16  m. ;  but  the  general  opinion  seemed  to  certify 
it  at  iS.  Including  some  preliminary  sidewalk  business  in  Canandaigua,  the 
cyclometer's  total  record  for  that  day  was  24}  m.  The  road  seemed  generally 
10  increase  in  goodness  as  I  advanced  westward,  the  best  of  the  riding  being 
beyond  Lima;  and  there  were  some  wonderfully  smooth  stretches  between 
East  and  West  Avon.  Congress  Hall,  the  more  fashionable  of  the  hotels  at 
the  Springs,  had  already  closed  for  the  season;  but  the  Knickerbocker,  which 
Itecps  open  all  the  year  round,  supplied  entirely  satisfactory  accommodations. 
even  allowing  me  a  room  upon  the  ground  floor, where  I  could  have  the  compan- 
ionship of  my  wheel  during  the  night.  Red  clay  is  the  prevailing  material 
of  the  I  JO  m.  of  road  thus  described  as  traversed  by  me  between  Utica  and 
Avon  Springs,  and  1  do  not  suppose  that  the  stretch  of  15  m.  which  I  look 
by  rail  forms  any  exception  to  it,  Long-continued  rain  would  make  most  of 
(he  road  unfit  for  bicycling,  because  the  clay  is  very  sticky  when  wet,  and  very 
rough  ^hen  dry,  until  a  good  deal  of  wagon  traffic  has  hammered  it  into 
tmoothncss.  When  thus  made  smooth,  it  is  apt  to  be  a  little  dusty;  hence 
the  day  or  two  following  a  gentle  rain  of  5  or  6  h.,  which  has  washed  away  the 
dost,  is,  doubtless,  the  period  when  this  road  is  at  its  best.  Nearly  all  of  it 
is  Dp  or  down  grade,  but  not  many  of  the  grades  are  too  steep  for  riding. 
The  stones  are  never  absent,  but  there  are  not  many  places  where  they  arc 
very  Eroubleaome,  and  there  are  not  many  stretches  of  sand.  The  stoniest 
d  sandiest  section  of  all  is  that  between  Whiteslown  and  Holland  Patent. 
The  first  day  of  October  supplied  ideal  conditions  for  bicycling,  and  1 
raged  thereby  to  turn  my  46  in.  wheel  until  the  cyclometer  regis- 
I.  Starting  from  Avon  Springs  at  6.30,  I  reached  Gen- 
is  breakfast  w»«  -"•  ~ady  at  the  hotels  there,  I  kept 
.,  to  the  Siv  n  Mount  Morris.    To  reach 

to  the  w.  !  at  a  point  4  m.  below  Cen- 

tring straight  n  the  direct  road  to  Dans- 

id  from  til  bserved  a  bicycler  coming 


214  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

in  my  direction,  and  so  persuaded  him  to  accompany  me  to  Portage,  instead 
of  turning  about  and  attending  church,  \  h.  later,  as  he  had  piously  planned 
to  do.    The  road  down  the  w.  side  of  the  valley  was  excellent ;  but  the  vari- 
ous people  whom  we  accosted  had  various  conflicting  opinions  as  to  its  being 
the  proper  road  to  Portage ;  and,  at  12.30,  having  ridden  8  m.,  and  turned  on 
our  tracks  several  times,  we  decided  to  seek  Portage  no  longer,  but  to  strike 
for  Dansville.    We  reached  the  Hyland  House  there,  nearly  8  m.  further,  ir 
ijh.;  and  while  I  tarried  a  similar  period  to  indulge  in  an  elaborate  dinnei 
my  companion  (A.  B.  F.),  without  stopping  for  any  food  at  all,  speeded  awa 
on  his  return  trip,  saying  that  he  must  needs  ride  35  m.  more  to  reach  h 
home  in  Fowlerville.     I  hope  he  got  there  duly;  but  I  myself  put  in  on' 
16  m.  additional  that  afternoon,  ending  at  6.30  o'clock  at  Brushville.     ThiF 
the  popular  title  of  the  hamlet  which  is  called  Tuscarora  on  the  maps,  an 
made  quite  a  sensation  among  the  loungers  in  front  of  the  "  Tuscarora  Hou> 
when  my  ghostly  garments  suddenly  emerged  from  the  twilight  into  their  * 
of  vision.     From  Dansville  I  rode  up  the  e.  side  of  the  valley,  nearly  8^  m.  it- 
h. ;  then  came  across  the  meadow  bottom,  3  m.,  over  a  black-clay  road  so  r« 
as  to  be  just  barely  ridable;  then  up  the  main  road  of  the  forenoon,  \  v 
the  ravine  where  the  old  canal  path  branches  off ;  and  thence,  by  a  i 
sandy  and  hilly  road  of  4  m.,  to  Brushville.     Between  Mount  Morn*  - 
Dansville  a  bicycler  may  make  a  circuit  of  about  30  m.,  up  one  side  the 
and  down  the  other,  over  roads  of  almost  continual  smoothness  and  wit . 
few  difficult  grades,  —  his  eyes  all  the  while  sweeping  over  a  wide  strc 
attractive  and  varjring  scenery. 

The  Genesee  river  is  represented  in  the  region  just  named  only  b' 
its  branches ;  and  the  longer  Genesee  valley,  through  which  that  river 
entered  first  at  Portage,  about  13^  m.  from  Brushville,  at  11  o'clock 
lowing  forenoon.     I  started  at  half-past  6  and  stopped  i  h.  in  Nn. 
breakfast,  which  cost  me  50  c.,  though  it   was  certainly  no   better 
supper  of  the  night  before,  whose  cost  combined  with  that  of  my  "  b( 
bed-room  **  was  only  60  c.    A  vote  of  **  no  license  "  in  Nunda  had  r< 
shutting  up  the  two  chief  hotels,  and  the  proprietor  of  this  wrett 
"  Eagle  "  tavern  was,  perhaps,  encouraged  thereby  to  charge  doub'- 
compensation   for  his  temperance  principles.     At  the  Garrison 
Caneadea,  where  I  spent  the  next  night,  I  was  also  given  the  best 
and  the  charge  for  supper  and  lodging  combined  was  only  half  a 
remained  at  Portage  about  3  h.,  admiring  its  wonderful  waterfalls 
and  being  duly  impressed  by  the  high  r.  r.  bridge.*     The  descent  t 


'Portage  was  the  last  of  the  "  lesser  waterfalls  "  visited  by  me  on  this  tour 
one  called  Niagara  was  not  visited  at  all.     Yet  I  have  not  taken  its  noble  name  i' 
to  the  present  chapter,  for  it  serves  well  to  fix  in  the  reader's  mind  the  general 
most  of  the  reported  roads  belong,  and  it  is  the  natural  objective  point  toward^  - 
turns  from  either  of  the  lesser  waterfalls.     My  own  ride  without  dismount  frotK 
falo  (Sept.  16,  '80)  has  been  described  on  p.  203 ;  and  its  recent  republication  \\\ 


i^ 


(    ~- 


2i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

and  then  desperately  breaking  and  perishing  to  fall,  the  white  disembodied  ghosts  of  rapids,  down 
to  the  bottom  of  the  vast  and  deep  ravine  through  which  the  river  rushed  away.  Now  the  waters 
'seemed  to  mass  themselves  a  hundred  feet  high  on  a  wall  of  snowy  compactness,  now  to  dis- 
perse into  their  multitudinous  particles  and  hang  like  some  vaporous  cloud  from  the  cliff.  Every 
moment  revealed  the  vision  in  some  rare  and  fantastic  shape ;  and  its  loveliness  isolated  it,  in 
spite  of  the  great  town  on  the  other  shore,  the  station  with  its  bridge  and  its  trains,  the  mills 
that  supplied  their  feeble  little  needs  from  the  cataract's  strength.  At  last  Basil  pointed  out  the 
table-rock  in  the  middle  of  the  fall  from  which  Sam  Patch  had  made  his  fatal  leap.  *  I  don't 
care  for  him!'  she  said  fiercely  :  '  Patch !  what  a  name  to  be  linked  in  our  thoughts  with  this 
superb  cataract.'  '  Well,  Isabel,  I  think  you  are  very  unjust.  It's  as  good  a  name  u  Leander, 
to  my  thinking,  and  it  was  immortalized  in  support  of  a  great  idea, — the  feasibility  of  all  things. 
A  poet  of  the  Germans  made  a  ballad  about  him  which  used  to  go  the  rounds  of  their  news- 
papers, and  I  translated  it  a  long  while  ago.  I  had  to  yield  to  our  American  taste,  however, 
and  make  a  weak  line  at  the  end  of  the  first  stanxa.  Where  the  German  bravely  said  :  S^ringt 
tUr  Sam  Patseh  kUAn  undfrei,  I  used  "  a  figure  "  thus  : 

"  In  the  Bierhausgarten  I  linger,  by  the  Falls  of  the  Genesee ; 
From  the  Table  Rock,  in  the  middle,  leaps  a  figure  bold  and  free '"  '  " 

I  alluded  to  the  flints  of  the  fearless  Patch  in  describing  my  visit  to  the  picturesque  falls  at 
Paterson  (p.  167) ;  and  I  happened,  while  seeking  to  verify  another  reference  in  this  chapter, 
to  meet  with  a  mock-heroic  poem  dedicated  to  his  memory,  by  an  undergraduate  of  Columbia 
College,  *'  McC.,"  in  the  old  Knickerbocker  Magaaine  (April,  1843,  pp.  308-310).  The  route 
through  the  Catskills,  presented  on  p.  188,  leads  past  a  pair  of  noble  cascades,  Haines 
Falls  and  the  Kaaterskill,  whose  fame  is  not  connected  with  that  of  the  immortal  jumper,  but 
rather  with  that  of  the  poet  Bryant,  who  wrote  : 

ItiidBt  greens  and  shades  the  Kaaterskill  leaps. 

From  cUil^  where  the  wood  flower  cUngs; 
All  Summer  he  moistens  his  verdant  steeps 

With  the  sweet  light  spray  of  the  mountain  springs ; 
And  he  shakes  the  woods  on  the  mountain  side 
When  they  drip  with  the  rains  of  Autumn  tide. 

Bat  when  in  the  forest,  bare  and  old. 

The  blast  of  Decemlwr  calls- 
He  builds  in  the  starlight,  clear  and  cold, 

A  palace  of  ioe  where  his  torrent  falls ; 
With  turret,  and  arch,  and  fret-work  fair 
And  pillars  blue  as  the  Summer  air. 

A  direct  cross-country  route  from  the  Kaaterskill  to  Genesee  Falls  might  perhaps  pnyve 
worth  exploring,  through  Cooperstown  and  Sharon  Springs  to  Amsterdam  (see  p.  197),  on  the 
Erie  Canal,  and  thence  by  roads  described  by  me  (pp.  aoo-aoa)  to  East  Bloomfield ;  whence  to 
Rochester  the  wheeling  is  said  to  be  good.  The  direct  route  from  Genesee  Falls  to  Niagara 
leads  through  Lockport,  and  has  been  often  traversed  by  bicycle.  A  week's  tour  of  283  m.,  by 
F.  D.  Helmer,  M.  T.  Shafer,  and  R.  Thompson,  of  the  Genesee  B.  C,  beginning  Aug.  3,  1884, 
was  thus  recorded  in  the  Rochester  Heraidoi  Aug.  10  :  "  They  took  dmner  at  East  Avon,  vis- 
ited Conesus  Lake,  and  spent  the  night  at  Hemlock  Lake.  The  next  morning  they  wheeled  to 
Wayland  (of  this  distance  10  m.  was  through  clayey  mud),  took  train  to  Coming  and  rode  thence 
to  Watkins  Glen,  —  another  '  lesser  waterfall. '  Tuesday  morning,  they  went  to  Elmira,  doing  the 
final  6  m.  from  Horseheadsin  \  h. ;  and  they  retiurned  thence  to  Corning,  18  m.,  in  if  h.,  with  but 
two  dismounts.  Taking  train  to  Homellsville,  they  rode  thence  on  Wednesday  between  the  double 
tracks  of  the  Erie  Railway,  to  Portage,  30  m.,  and  after  visiting  the  falls,  proceeded  to  Pike, 
6  m.  Thursday  morning,  they  went  to  Silver  Lake,  and  stayed  there  at  the  picnic  until  4  P-  m., 
when  they  started  for  Attica,  32  m.,  arriving  at  a  little  before  9.  Friday's  ride  was  the  longest 
of  all,  5s  m.,  ending  at  Niagara  at  7.30  p.  m.,  4  h.  after  leaving  Buffalo,  where  a  halt  of  a  h.  was 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS, 


217 


tkm  to  the  village  was  down  a  winding  hill  i  m.  long,  and  in  some  parts  very 
steep,  but  I  managed  to  ride  it  without  a  stop.  Fillmore,  10  m.,  was  reached 
in  2  h.,  and  Caneadea,  7  m.  more,  in  i  h.  20  min.,  enuing  at  6  o'clock.  This  made 
31  nufor  the  day.  Next  morning  the  start  was  made  at  6.40,  and  Belfast,  4  m., 
was  reached  in  just  i  h.,  Oramel  being  the  name  of  an  intermediate  village. 
At  8.20  I  turned  aside  from  the  river,  instead  of  following  it  up  to  Wellsville, 
the  end  of  the  valley,  as  originally  planned,  and  began  climbing  the  hills  east- 
ward towards  the  county  seat,  Angelica,  6  m.  Reaching  this  at  9.10, 1  tarried 
2\  h.  for  breakfast ;  and,  after  a  mile  of  detours  on  the  sidewalks,  proceeded 
to  East  Almond  Centre,  which  is  the  first  village,  7  m.  Another  7  m.  brought 
me  to  Almond,  at  the  foot  of  a  long  hill,  at  4  o'clock.  Here  I  first  met  the 
Erie  Railway,  and  the  road  continued  very  nearly  alongside  it,  and  generally 
level,  to  Hornellsville,  5  m.,  which  I  reached  in  i  h.  Another  h.  carried  me 
another  5  m.  to  Canisteo,  at  6  o'clock,  and  I  stopped  for  the  night  at  the 
Canisteo  House.  From  the  Genesee  river  to  Almond  the  road  was  mostly  of 
hard,  yellow  clay,  with  very  little  dust  on  top,  and  was  nearly  all  ridable, 
though  continuously  hilly.  On  one  hill  there  was  deep  sand  for  about  i  m., 
though  it  was  possible  to  ride  through  some  of  it  on  the  down  grade.  The 
views  were  extensive  and  the  coloring  of  the  autumn  foliage  very  brilliant. 
The  material  of  the  road  which  follows  up  the  Genesee  river  from  Portage  to 
Wellsville,  and  which  has  no  difficult  grades,  is  a  sort  of  soft  brown  clay  or 
loam,  which  is  ground  up  into  a  fine  powder  by  continuous  dry  weather, 
though  the  rain  is  said  to  pack  it  down  closely  and  make  good  riding.  The 
stones  concealed  under  the  dust  made  the  road  a  very  slow  one  in  my  own 


made.  Saturday,  they  wheeled  to  Lockport  and  thence  took  train  for  home.  Their  cyclometer 
record  of  282  m.  represented  41  h.  of  actual  riding  time.  They  found  good  roads  for  nearly  the 
entire  distance.  Not  a  serious  fall  was  recorded,  and  the  only  acddent  was  the  breaking  of  a 
pcdal-pm."  A  Buffalo  correspondent  of  the  Bi.  iVorld  (Jva.  9,  '85,  p.  155),  gives  this  account 
of  the  last  day's  road  run  taken  by  four  member*  of  the  local  dub  to  Rochester,  Nov.  16 : 
"  Weather  fine  and  roads  in  excellent  shape.  Start  made  at  6.30  by  Messrs.  George  and  Ehrlich, 
by  direct  road  through  Bowmansville  to  Mill  Grove,  where  they  were  joined  by  Messrs.  Haynes 
and  Adams,  who  came  through  without  dismount.  After  a  long  rest  for  breakfast,  the  four 
proceeded  to  their  dinner  at  Batavia,  40  m.  The  34  m.  thence  to  Rochester  was  very  good, 
— eicept  one  sandy  s&etch  of  about  10  m., —  and  was  finished  at  6  p.  m.  by  the  last  named  pair, 
whose  actuad  riding  time  (6  h.  20  min.  for  the  74  m.)  has  never  been  beaten  to  our  knowledge. 
Uewa.  Geofge  and  Ehrlich  finished  a  little  later.  "  Of  tlie  other  connection  between  the  two 
dties,  a  correspondent  of  the  ff^/itfr/ (Feb.  13,  ^85)  thus  speaks  :  "  No  doubt  the  wheeling,  on 
the  average,  is  better  by  way  of  Batavia ;  but  by  Mray  of  Lockport  there  are  some  patches  of 
m&ag  hard  to  beat.  The  best  route  is  to  Tonawanda,  thence  to  Martinsville,  thence  along 
a.  bank  of  Erie  canal  until  road  is  struck  leading  to  Bear  Ridge.  Surface  is  of  day  and  very 
food  during  favoiaUe  weather.  Bear  Ridge  road  is  part  clay  and  part  gravel,  usually  good. 
Tbe  State  or  Canad  road  will  be  reached  at  White  Sulphur  Springs,  2I  m.  from  Lockport  The 
read  is  stony  and  will  necessitate  frequent  dismounts.  Lockport  roads  are  fair  to  middling.  To 
Gasport  the  roads  are  good,  and  the  same  is  true  of  the  road  leading  to  Middleport,  which  is  of 
day  and  gravel,  hard  packed.  From  Middleport  to  Medina  the  roads  are  only  fair,  and  they 
are  nothing  extra  until  Brockport  is  reached,  whence  by  way  of  Spencerport  they  are  very  fine. 
,  10  m.  from  Medina,  there  u  a  tough  hiU  to  climb  and  a  difficult  stone  road. '' 


2i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

case ;  and  the  conditions  attaching  to  the  to  m.  between  Almond  and  Canisteo 
were  not  dissimilar.  In  that  division  of  the  valley  included  between  Avon 
Springs  and  Dansville,  the  material  of  the  roads  was  generally  a  sort  of  fine 
gravely  which  packed  together  tightly  and  made  less  dust,  though  even  these 
roads  would  be  at  their  best  after  a  short  rain,  and  they  would  get  dry  enough 
to  be  ridable  very  quickly  after  a  long  one. 

I  reached  the  Dickinson  House,  in  Coming,  at  540  P.  M.,  on  the  follow- 
ing day,  October  4,  just  1 1  h.  after  starting  from  Canisteo,  the  distance  being 
a  trifle  less  than  37  m.  My  only  two  stops  were  at  Cameron,  124  m,  from  the 
start,  for  breakfast,  from  10  till  11,  and  at  Addison,  16  m.  further,  for  dinner, 
from  2  till  3.  The  longest  and  best  mount  of  the  entire  day  was  supplied  by 
2  m.  of  good  gravel  road-bed  some  time  after  leaving  Addison.  Wooden  side- 
walks were  met  with  before  reaching  Painted  Post,  and  were  stuck  to  by  me 
pretty  steadily  until  I  reached  Coming,  though  I  dismounted  frequently,  com- 
manded by  broken  boards.  The  road,  as  a  whole,  was  the  poorest  encountered 
on  any  day  of  my  tour,  and  I  suppose  I  walked  ^  or  ^  of  the  distance  trav- 
ersed. Even  after  a  rain  had  packed  down  the  dust,  which  so  greatly  troubled 
me,  the  road  would  be  a  poor  one,  for  it  was  stony  and  hilly.  In  general,  it 
kept  quite  near  the  Erie  Railway,  and  as  this  was  continuously  down  grade  I 
was  tempted  occasionally  to  make  trial  of  it.  Once  I  rode  between  the  tracks 
for  nearly  i  m.  without  stop,  and  indulged  in  a  race  with  a  hand-car ;  but, 
for  the  most  part,  the  path  was  barely  ridable,  so  that  I  was  usually  ready  to 
change  to  the  highway  at  the  first  opportunity;  and  then,  after  anothelr  sad 
experience  with  the  dust  of  the  highway,  change  back  to  the  track  again  when 
the  next  chance  offered.  A  man  at  Cameron  harnessed  up  a  frisky  colt  in 
order  that  I  might  help  "break  "  him  into  toleration  of  the  bicycle;  and  he 
asserted  that  the  beast  had  been  scared,  some  weeks  before,  by  another  rider, 
who  propelled  his  wheel  from  there  to  Elmira,  40  m.,  between  4  and  8  p.  M. 
Why  is  it,  I  wonder,  that  the  wheelmen  whom  I  hear  of  as  the  heroes  of  such 
remarkable  exploits  always  refrain  so  modestly  from  making  public  the  details 
of  their  extraordinary  riding  ? 

I  breakfasted  at  Elmira  at  9.30  the  next  morning,  after  a  ride  of  exactly  3 
h.  from  Corning,  18  m.  away.  Under  favorable  conditions  the  distance  could 
probably  be  made  without  a  dismount,  as  the  road  is,  for  the  most  part,  level, 
and  the  few  hills  which  it  crosses  are  neither  steep  nor  high.  To  Wellsburg, 
also,  the  track  continues  about  equally  good,  for  I  covered  the  6  m.  in  an  hour ; 
but  the  next  6  m.  to  Chemung,  required  a  few  minutes  more  than  that.  Here 
a  tavern-keeper  astonished  me  by  designating  five  cents  as  an  appropriate  price 
for  two  big  goblets  of  milk.     During  the  next  3 J  m.,  ending  at  Waverly,*  the 

^The  captain  of  the  Binghamton  Bicyde  Qub,  C.  E.  Tidiener  (58  in.),  with  three  of  his 
men  —  E.  E.  Kattell  (60  in.)>  I*'T%d  Lyon  (54  in.)  and  C.  H.  Rogers  (5a  in.)—  took  a  50m.  run 
to  Waverly,  May  18,  '83,  of  which  he  sends  the  following  report :  ''Starting  w.  on  the  n.  side 
of  the  Susquehanna  river  at  8  a.  m.,  we  went  without  dismount  to  Union,  9  m.  in  45  m.  Cross- 
ing here,  we  continued  along  through  the  villages  of  Vestal  and  Appalachin  to  the  Big  Island 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS. 


219 


dust  was  in  places  almost  '*  hub  deep/*  and  I  occupied  nearly  an  hour  in  plough- 
ing  my  way  through  it.  As  it  was  nearly  2  o'clock  when  1  reached  the  town,  I 
feared  that  more  deep  dust  might  prevent  my  pushing  the  wheel  20  m.  further, 
to  Towanda,  before  night ;  and,  as  I  had  promised  a  friend  to  join  him  there 
then,  I  went  down  by  train.  I  was  exactly  a  week  on  the  way  from  Syracuse 
to  Waverly,  and  the  cyclometer's  record  was  280  m.  This  daily  average  of  40 
m.  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  reduced  a  little,  however,  out  of  regard  to  the  fact 
that  as  the  week  began  and  ended  in  the  afternoon,  it  really  included  a  part 
of  eight  calendar  days.  The  ride  from  Corning  to  Waverly  may  be  recom- 
mended as  a  fine  one  to  engage  in  a  day  or  two  after  a  rain  has  beaten  down 
the  powdered  clay.  There  are  no  severe  grades  to  contend  against,  and  the 
views  of  mountain  and  river  are  in  many  places  very  fine. 

Towanda,  the  seat  of  Bradford  county  in  Pennsylvania,  lies  on  a  hillside 
overlooking  a  branch  of  the  river  Susquehanna,  along  which  runs  the  Lehigh 
Valley  Railroad.  Bidding  adieu  to  my  friend  at  half-past  6  on  Monday,  Octo- 
ber 9,  I  jogged  across  the  bridge  and  out  to  the  hotel  at  Wysocking,  a  little 
less  than  3  m.,  in  \  h.  Beyond  this  is  a  big  hill,  or  **  mountain,"  many  of 
whose  grades  may  be  ridden  up,  and  from  the  top  of  which  a  pleasing  pros- 
pect may  be  had.  Further  on,  perhaps  6  or  8  m.,  comes  Rummerfield  mount- 
ain, whose  grades  must  be  walked  up  for  i  m.  or  more,  after  which  there  is  a 
down-grade  riding,  amid  beautiful  scenery,  for  3  or  4  m.  to  Wyalusing,  at 
whose  hotel  I  stopped  soon  after  noon,  about  17  m.  from  the  start.  Before 
Laceyville  was  reached,  6}  m.,  a  third  mountain  had  to  be  walked  up  by  short 
and  steep  grades,  and  ridden  down  by  long  and  easy  ones.  The  view  from 
the  summit  of  this  was,  perhaps,  the  finest  of  the  day,  and  the  pleasure  of  rid- 
ing along  the  ridge,  with  the  valley  and  river  far  below,  and  many  mountain- 
tops  outlined  against  the  distant  horizon,  was  very  great.  The  hotel  in 
Meshoppen,  about  33  m.  from  the  start,  was  reached  at  6.30  P.  M.,  the  last  i  or 
2  m.  having  been  walked  in  the  dark,  though  the  surface  seemed  smooth. 
A  ride  of  nearly  2  h.  on  the  train,  next  morning,  brought  me  to  Pittston 
soon  after  8  o'clock,  and  there  I  circled  2  m.  and  more  on  the  sidewalks, 
while  searching  for  a  good  place  to  take  breakfast,  and  waiting  for  the  same 
to  be  prepared.  A  newspaper  reporter  here  beset  me  for  an  account  of  my- 
self, and  assured  me,  after  I  had  supplied  him  with  the  desired  "  facts,"  that 
he  would  expand  and  improve  upon  them,  by  the  exercise  of  his  vivid  imagina- 

ferry,  where  we  were  taken  across  by  the  pretty  ferry-womao,  and  whfere  one  of  our  strongest 
riders  took  leave  of  the  excursiqp,  because  of  cramps  in  the  knees.  Stopping  at  Owego  about 
i  h.,  we  followed  the  bad  advice  of  a  local  rider  and  kept  to  the  n.  of  the  river,  though  we 
might  have  avoided  the  hills  and  secured  a  better  surface  by  taking  the  s.  side.  We  not  only 
found  a  big  hill  at  Tioga  Center,  but  there  was  a  succession  of  them,  all  the  way  from  Owego 
to  Waverly,  which  we  reached  at  a  p.  m.  (after  passing  Barton  and  Smtthboro),  a  tired  and  hun- 
gry party.  The  poor  condition  of  the  roads,  towards  the  finish,  —  sandy  and  stony  by  turns, 
discouraged  us  from  attempting  a  longer  ride."  This  shows  that  my  trail  might  well  have  con- 
tinued to  Binghamton,  where  there  is  a  good  northward  connection  through  Cazenovia  to 
Syracuse,  and  a  southward  one  to  Susquehanna  and  Port  Jervis,  as  will  appear  in  later  chapter. 


220  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tion,  in  a  way  which  would  make  the  readers  of  his  sheet  believe  that  I  was  a 
veritable  phenomenon  of  a  bicycler.  The  ride  of  about  9  m.  down  the 
Wyoming  Valley  to  Wilkesbarre  may  be  pleasantly  made  on  either  side  of 
the  river.  The  direct  road  on  the  e.  side  passes  close  by  numerous  coal- 
breakersy  and  in  much  of  it  a  real  "  cinder  path,"  with  gentle  up  and  down 
grades,  which  I  was  told  were  all  easily  ridable.  I  preferred,  however,  to 
cross  the  river  and  go  down  on  the  w.  side,  which  is  almost  entirely  flat.  It 
is  a  very  pretty  country  to  ride  through,  and  I  kept  on  the  sidewalk  all  the 
way  to  Kingston,  i  m.  from  Wilkesbarre,  stopping,  of  course,  to  inspect  the 
monument  commemorative  of  the  massacre  of  1778.  Much  of  that  last  m. 
had  to  be  done  afoot,  on  account  of  the  deep  dust,  though  probably  it  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  w.-side  road  would  afford  good  wheeling  in  an  ordinary  season. 
As  I  emerged  from  the  covered  bridge  into  Wilkesbarre,  a  local  rider  came 
out  and  greeted  me  off-hand  as  the  probable  "  old  original "  patron  of  "  white- 
flannel  and  nickel-plate,"  and  supplied  some  acceptable  information  concern- 
ing the  roads.  Profiting  by  this,  I  look  a  turn  of  3  m.  back  towards  Pittston, 
passing  among  the  coal-breakers,  and  getting  a  distant  view  of  the  w.  side  of 
the  valley  down  which  I  had  been  riding.  The  Wyoming  Valley  Hotel  sup- 
plied an  excellent  dinner  for  $1,  and  it  was  notable  as  the  only  public  repast 
of  my  entire  tour  which  was  served  in  a  really  creditable  manner.  Having 
finished  it,  I  took  train  over  the  mountains  to  Allentown,  and  wheeled  i  m. 
to  the  Allen  House,  making  my  day's  record  18^  m.  The  distant  view  of 
Wilkesbarre,  from  the  car  windows,  when  the  locomotive  at  last  completed 
its  zig-zag  route  to  the  summit,  was  a  fine  one ;  and  the  tow-path  of  the  canal 
at  Mauch  Chunk  and  points  below  seemed  so  smooth  and  attractive  as  almost 
to  allure  me  into  trying  its  surface.  It  was  well  I  resisted  the  temptation, 
however,  for  nightfall  was  near  at  hand,  and  the  rain  fell  steadily  during  all 
the  next  day.  I  devoted  the  time  then  to  writing  this  present  report  and  to 
hoping,  from  hour  to  hour,  that  there  might  be  a  change  in  the  weather  which 
would  enable  me  to  wheel  to  Philadelphia  on  the  12th,  for  I  was  assured 
that  the  pike  leading  thither  was  fairly  ridable.  But  the  continuance  of  the 
storm  through  the  night  banished  my  last  hope,  so  that,  in  the  mists  of  the 
morning,  I  took  train  disconsolately  for  Newark ;  and  then,  on  the  somewhat 
heavy  macadam  of  ^  the  Orange  riding  district,"  with  occasional  dashes  of 
rain  to  encourage  me,  I  ground  off  the  final  18  m.  needed  to  give  my  Pope 
cyclometer  a  record  of  400  m.  from  the  time  when  I  put  it  on  the  axle  at 
Bagg's  Hotel,  in  Utica  (superseding  thus  a  Livingston  cyclometer  which  had 
for  a  few  weeks  displaced  it).  This  total  shows  sfti  average  of  28}  m.  for 
each  of  the  14  riding  days  of  the  tour,  but  I  am  confident  that  a  correct 
registry  would  have  raised  the  average  ride  to  30  m. 

The  sun  shone  brilliantly  every  day  between  September  22,  when  the 
rain  stopped  me  at  Oneida,  and  October  11,  when  it  again  stopped  me  at 
Allentown;  and  on  none  of  the  intermediate  nights  was  the  dust  ever 
dampened  down  by  a  gentle  shower,  persistently  as  I  prayed  for  that  bless- 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS,  221 

ing.  This  seems  to  indicate  that  the  fortnight  immediately  following  the 
equinoctial  storm  is  a  period  when  the  touring  bicycler  may  reasonably  hope 
for  fair  weather.  The  wind  almost  invariably  favored  me  when  any  breeze 
blew  at  all.  The  rates  at  all  the  hotels  which  I  encountered  (and  I  always 
chose  the  "best"  or  highest*priced)  were  invariably  $2  a  day,  or  50c.  for 
lodging  or  for  any  meal,— except  in  the  five  cases  which  I  have  specially  in- 
dicated. Those  unvarying  rates  represented  very  varying  accommodations, 
however,  and  confirmed  me  anew  in  the  belief  I  have  more  than  once 
publicly  urged,  that  the  aim  of  consuls  in  securing  League  hotels  should  not 
be  "  a  reduction  of  rates,"  but  rather  "  an  increase  of  comforts."  The  Osbom, 
Knickerbocker,  Hyland,  Canisteo,  and  Dickinson,  were  the  best  of  the  $2 
hotels  mentioned  in  this  present  report.  As  regards  the  exaction  of  a  trans- 
portation tax,  the  baggage-master  of  the  steamboat  for  Albany  demanded  a 
half-dollar,  though  no  demand  was  made  when  I  went  up  on  the  same  boat 
the  previous  year.  On  appealing  to  the  captain,  I  was  courteously  assured 
that  this  was  not  a  private  "  strike,"  but  represented  the  definite  orders  from 
the  office,  which  he  had  no  option  except  to  enforce.  In  starting  for  Utica 
(100  m.),  I  gave  the  luggage  man  a  quarter-dollar  in  advance,  though  he 
rather  grumblingly  asserted  that  I  ought  to  double  that  sum.  Of  the  five 
gallant  commanders  of  baggage-cars  whom  I  came  in  contact  with  on  the 
Lehigh  Valley  Railroad,  the  first  took  ten  cents,  instead  of  the  offered  quarter- 
dollar,  for  a  20-m.  ride ;  the  second  asked  for  a  **  tax,"  and  was  quite  satisfied 
with  a  quarter-dollar ;  the  next  two  both  good-naturedly  refused  my  offer  to 
**  pay  something  for  their  trouble,"  saying  "  this  sort  of  baggage  gave  them 
less  trouble  than  a  heavy  trunk  " ;  and  the  last  man  I  exchanged  no  words 
with  whatever.  Since  then,  the  rule  of  "  free  transportation  for  passengers' 
bicycles  "  has  been  formally  adopted  by  this  line. 

*'  Bull  &  Bowen's  Road  Book  of  Western  New  York  and  Hand  Book  of  Cycling  Accesso- 
ries'^  compiled  by  A.  C.  Richardson  and  issued  in  June,  1885,  exhibits  4a  tabulated  "routes," 
iriuch  embrace  more  than  1,200  m.  'of  road.    A  quarter  of  the  routes  begin  at  Buffalo,  and  most 
of  the  others  at  Leroy,  Dayton  or  Jamestown.     **  The  first  column  in  each  table  enumerates  the 
miles  from  the  starting-point ;  the  second  gives  names  of  towns ;  the  third  shows  the  material  of 
road  surface,  by  the  initials  a.  for  asphalt,  c.  for  clay,  d.  for  dirt  or  loam,  gr.  for  gravel,  mc.  for 
macadam,  s.  for  sand,  st  for  stony  (or  stone-blocks  in  city) ;  the  fourth  shows  the  condition  of 
the  surface  at  its  best,  by  the  letters,  e.  for  excellent,  g.  for  good,  f.  for  fair,  p.  for  poor,  b.  for 
bad;  while  in  the  fifth  column  h.  signifies  hilly  and  1.  level ;  and  in  the  notes  t.  r.  means  '  turn 
right,'  t.  L  '  turn  left ' ;  r.  f.,  '  right  fork  *  and  1.  f.  '  left  fork.' "    The  weight  of  the  whole  is 
leas  than  ^oz.,  as  the  pages  measure  only  4  by  6  in.  and  the  paper  is  thin.    The  "routes" 
cover  seven  of  the  right-hand  pages  (double  columns  of  nonpareil  type,  like  this),  and  the  oppo- 
site pages  are  given  to  the  business  notices  of  the  publishers,  who  also  devote  a  page  to  the  free 
advertisement  of  all  the  American  road-books  and  cycling  journals,  mentioning  the  exact  price 
sad  address  of  each.     I  hope  their  intelligent  example  in  this  respect  may  be  followed  by  the 
publishers  of  all  future  books,  pamphlets  and  price-lists  of  similar  charact' 
some  space  in  my  final  chapter  to  enlarging  upon  this  idea  which  the 
thus  formulated  as  a  reason  for  **  giving  away  to  wheel  literature  '*  ^ 
their  large  price-catalogue  for  1S84  :    "  By  whatever  means  ' 
upon  cyctiog  mattera  may  be  accomplished,  it  cannot  fail  to  ai' 


J 


222  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ness."  I  hope,  therefore,  that  the  firm  of  Bull  &  Bowen  may  derive  a  busineas  benefit  from  the 
pains  taken  to  disseminate  a  knowledge  of  the  roads  in  the  region  around  them,  and  of  cycling 
literature ;  and  that  no  wheelman  living  in  or  visiting  that  region  will  fail  to  procure  their  excel- 
lent little  guide.     It  is  mailed  free  by  them  on  receipt  of  a  2  c.  stamp  at  587  Main  St.,  Bu£Ealo. 

As  an  introductory  extract,  I  present  what  it  says  of  the  road  leading  from  the  Falls  along 
the  east  bank  of  the  river  to  where  it  empties  into  Lake  Ontario,  at  Fort  Niagara,  14  m.  :  "  T. 
1.  going  into  Lewiston,  which  is  the  half-way  point ;  t.  r.  going  out.  One  dangerous  hill  near 
L. ;  otherwise  level ;  clay  surface  ;  first  half,  poor;  last  half,  good."  From  Buffalo  to  Roches- 
ter, by  way  of  the  Falls  (n.)  and  Lockport  (e.),  is  called  106  m. ;  by  direct  road,  through 
Batavia  (n.  e.),  70  m.  In  the  former  case,  "leave  the  city  by  Delaware  St.,  take  first  t.  1.  after 
leaving  Walmore  (7  m.  beyond  the  Falls),  and  t.  r.  at  Pekin  (6  m.  further) ;  one  difficult  hill  be- 
tween Albion  and  Murray,  about  30  m.  before  reaching  Rochester."  In  the  direct  route, 
"  start  out  Genesee  st. ;  from  Batavia  to  Rochester  follow  the  American  Rapid  telegn^h  "  (see 
p.  217).  "The  e.  road  to  Alden  (16  m.)  is  very  nearly  straight,  and  is  one  of  the  best  roads 
leading  out  of  Buffalo.  Thence  to  Warsaw  (27  m.)  the  tourist  is  advised  to  take  the  road-bed  of 
the  Erie  R.  R. ,  which  is  always  hard,  smooth  and  fast,  and  but  few  dismounts  are  necessary. 
At  Warsaw,  take  the  road.  For  10  m.  s.  e.,  there  are  no  turns,  llien  t.  1.,  and  after  i  m.  t.  r. 
to  Gainesville,  whence  the  road  is  straight  to  Portage  (64  m.  from  Buffalo).  There  go  through 
village  and  up  hill,  and  t  r.  to  Cascade  House.  Straight  road  between  Hunt's  and  Dalton. 
The  r.  r.  is  crossed  twice  between  Swainsville  and  Garwood.  Within  i  m.  of  Arkport,  t.  1.  and 
cross  the  valley.  When  i  m.  out  of  Arkport,  t.  1.,  and  after  \  m.  t.  r.  After  \  m.  more  t.  1.,  and 
in  200  yds.  t  r. ;  then  3  m.  to  Homellsville  (30  m.  from  Portage)."  My  own  longer  route  be- 
tween the  two  latter  places  is  given  on  pp.  214-217 ;  and  for  comparison  with  my  report  of  ride 
from  Buffalo  to  Erie  (s.  w.),  on  pp.  203-205,  I  give  this  extract  from  the  guide  :  "  From  the  oat- 
ner  of  Main  st.  follow  Seneca  st.  and  plank  road  to  old  covered  bridge  over  Buffalo  treek. 
After  crossing  this  t.  r.  sharply  and  steer  for  the  iron  bridge.  Keep  same  road  to  first  '  four 
comers,'  where  t.  r.  and  ride  about  i  m.  passing  over  three  r.  r.  tracks  by  a  high  bridge  about 
\  m.  from  the  turn.  After  passing  the  r.  r.  tracks,  t.  1.  and  follow  telegraph  poles  to  Silver 
Creek.  Hills  at  18  m.  creek  had  better  be  walked,  and  also  hill  at  Silver  Creek.  T.  r.  3  m.  e. 
of  Westfieid.    No  other  variations  from  straight  road  for  the  whole  distance  to  Elrie,  88|  m." 

"^rom  Batavia  to  Leroy,  10  m.  e.,  with  Stafford  half-way  between,  the  level  surface  of  ex- 
cellent gravel  can  be  ridden  easily  inside  of  an  hour  without  dismount.  A  similar  road  from 
Batavia  to  Attica,  11  m.  s.  (through  Alexander),  requires  only  one  or  two  dismounts.  From 
Medina  to  Batavia,  22  m.  (gravel,  clay,  loam  and  stones ;  good,  fair  and  poor,  in  succession),  go 
due  s.  to  Shelby ;  t.  1.  and  then  t.  r.  at  village ;  straight  s.  from  Shelby ;  1. 1.  e.  from  Alabama ; 
t.  r.  8.  from  Wheatville ;  t.  1.  e.  from  Oakfield,  and  then  t.  h  at  an  angle,  s.  e.  From  Leroy  to 
Brockport,  16  m.  n.  (Bergen  half-way),  is  hilly,  gravel  surface,  fair  riding.  From  Leroy  to  the 
State  Fishery  at  Mumford,  7^  m.,  a  limestone  road  offers  a  very  pleasant  run  through  the 
woods ;  the  direction  being  n.  for  6  m.  to  Caledonia,  where  t.  1.  From  Leroy  to  Avon,  14  m.  s. 
e.,  is  a  good  and  level  though  stony  road, — Caledonia  being  half-way.  From  Leroy  to  Penry,  ao 
m.  B.  the  surface'is  a  good  clay  level  for  7  m.  to  Pavilion,  where  1.  f.  s.  should  be  taken ;  the  re- 
mainder being  gravel  and  fair  riding  though  hilly.  Perry  Center  is  7  m.  e.  of  Warsaw ;  and,  in 
going  from  W.  to  Silver  Lake,  10  m.,  the  first  m.  must  be  walked ;  at  Perry  Village  go  s.  and  t. 
1.  From  Warsaw  to  Leroy  (20  m.,  clay,  with  a  little  sand  and  gravel)  is  said  to  be  the  best  nm 
In  this  section.  At  Saltville  cross  R.  &  P.  track ;  at  Pearl  Creek  cross  bridge ;  at  PaviHon  andat 
Pavilion  Cent,  keep  straight  n.  From  Warsaw  to  Castile,  1 1  m.  s.  e.,  is  called  excellent,  fair  and 
good.  At  Rock  Glen  take  r.  f . ;  at  East  Gainesville  cross  Erie  track,  then  t.  K  thCA  %  ib 
straight  into  Castile.    Thence  n.  straight  for  5  m.,  t.  1.  to  Silver  Lake,  or  t.  r.  to  Peiq^sl 

Glean,  on  the  edge  of  Pennsylvania,  is  76^  m.  s.  of  Buffalo,  and  the  last  58  m. 
have  a  gravel  surface,  and  to  supply  good  or  fair  riding.    The  road  closely  followfti 
N.  Y.  &  P.  R.  R.    The  first  18  m.,  out  Seneca  st.,  are  called  excellent  thoim^ll^ 
or  plank  surface.     "  Then,  at  £.  Aurora,  t.  1., and  after  ]  m.  t.  r. ;  ^  m.  out  ol  H 
then  t.  1.  all  the  way  to  Sardinia.    From  S.  t.  r.  2  m.,  then  1. 1.  i  m.    From  O 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS.  : 

up  Drkc'i  CTHk.  Aflcr  Vorkshiie  CeoUr  Oke  I.  I.  ID  Ai 
OLeui  tQ  Salunaua,  3a  m.  n.  w.,  aai  prtvaili,  biEI  tl 
stiaighL]  m.  10  AUe^uiy,  I.  r.  and  go  m  a,  laCarToUtDD, 
a  roundabout  road  ai  }3  m.  through  the  Allegany  CauDty  oil  £cld.  luda  up  the  valley  l\  ID.  Id 

19  fair  to  good. "    (FHeiulihip  is  ii  m.  L  w.  of  Bclfan,  idealioned  on  p.  117,  and  i>  connecled 

Randolph,  which  ii  on  the  Erie  r.  r.  about  la  m.  w.  of  Siknuna,  Ua  due  1.  of  Buffalo  by 
a  route  of  3J  m., described  Ihu»  :  "  Road  riieg gradually  to  Hamburgh,  jonj.  Between  Water 
Valley  and  Eden  Valley  take  r.  f.  On  leaving  Eden  Center  take  r.  f.  at  loot  of  hill.  Fiom 
North  Collin*  t.  1.  on  smooth  road  till  near  Venaille.,  then  1.  ..  and  croa.  bridge.  After  leav- 
bg  VenaiDei  L  1.  where  road  rum  into  that  you  are  on  without  eroding  it.  At  Pemnbuis 
walk  I  m.  up  aleep  hill  and  ride  \  m.  down  other  »de ;  then  t.  L  and  alter  |  m.  more  1.  1.  again 
into  Dayton ;  k  m.  bom  Dayton  i.  r. ;  Iben  |  m.  L  L  Take  1,  i.  at  Markhun'i.  T.  r.  at  law. 
miU  and  I.  L  at  neit  comer.  Keep  lame  mad  to  Leon.  From  Conewango  (or  RuUedge)  t.  r., 
andnefl  t.  i.  and  follow  umc  mad  Id  Randolph."    Peirysburg  it  i3  in.  Irom  Buffalo,  and  Day- 

ler  half  is  hUly,  Hflly  also  i>  the  good  gravel  road  leading  >.  e.  from  Dayton  to  Little  Valley, 
19  m.  (  "  1 1.  1  m.  from  >ian  ;  alio  i^  m.  fiom  E.  Leon  i  walk  hill  beyond  Wedey  and  al»  be- 
yond New  Albion."  Caitaraugut,  si  in.  fmm  Wealey,  may  be  reached  by  a  fair  gravd  road. 
DwdcirkCKe  p.  306)  may  be  reached  by  going  j6  m.  u,  from  Dayton,  thiu;  "  At  |  m.  out,  t,  r. ; 
and  4  m.  beyond  t.  1.     At  Markham'a  take  r.  I.  for  \  m-,  then  r.  f.  again  3  m.,  then  t.  I.  10  rods, 

1. 1,  and  keep  atiaighl  road  till  level  neat  Sheridan  it  reached.  AI  Sheridan  1.  r.  at  firtt  '  four 
con>en/  and  after  j  m.  t.  I.  on  main  mad.  After  ctouing  raQmad  takeanr^fb^L  r.,  and  follow 
to  Dunkirk-  By  keeping  ume  road  ilraight  from  Sheridan,  Fredonia  ii  reached  at  a  diatance  of 
S  m.  No  village  at  Edward's  Comer.  In  going  from  Daylon  to  Dunkirk,  you  go  limm  i.aoo 
feet.    Worst  grade  is  between  Edwani's  Comer  atid  Sniiih's  Mills,"    From  Edward's  Comer, 

ii  a  guide Jxard.     T.  1.  at  Perjyiboig  and  keep  on  straight  to  end  of   road.     T.  r.  to  Vettalllei, 


XVII. 

KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  C 

The  Blue-Grass  region  of  Kentucky,  so  celebrated  for  < 
had  a  better  reason  for  feeling  proud  of  its  good-looks  thai> 
week  of  summer  in  1882,  when  I  for  the  first  time  cast  in 
same.     May  had  been  almost  continuously  damp  and  rainy  u: 
so  that  every  sort  of  vegetation  seemed  as  fresh  and  luxu. 
The  foliage  of  the  trees — which  do  not  often  form  thickly-intL 
but  stand  out  alone  in  their  individual  majesty,  as  if  some 
scape-gardener  had  designedly  stationed  them  there  to  foni. 
landmarks  and  ornaments  of  an  immense  park — was  brillia- 
the  tall  grass,  which  gives  its  peculiar  name  to  that  section  01 
if  I  may  say  so,  with  the  bluest  green  imaginable.    Great  C\ 
waved  beneath  the  breeze,  in  graceful  emerald  undulations 
soft  slopes  of  the  hills;  and  whitewashed  fences  "far  along  t^ 
summer  sunlight.     Outside  the  towns  and  villages  the  hou- 
enough  to  keep  the  tourist  assured  that  he  was  traveling  in 
but  they  were  so  neat  and  trim,  and  withal  so  scattered, 
monize  with  the  fancy  that  their  inhabitants  must  be  salarlf 
Blue-Grass  Park,"  instead  of  ordinary  farmers,  who  tilled  * 
the  sake  of  securing  such  profit  as  they  could  wrest  from  it 
The  time  for  sowing  had  gone  by,  and  the  time  for  reapi* 
There  was  no  bustle  or  activity  in  the  fields, — not  "  a  shadn^ 
anywhere.     Nature  was  doing  all   the  work ;  and  a   ble«^ 
peace,  prosperity,  and  contentment  seemed  to  pervade  fi 
purposes  of  spectacular  display  the  Blue-Grass  Region  v 
not  again  in  a  dozen  years  would  a  bicycler  who  sought  tr 
mer-time  be  likely  to  be  favored  with  as  cool  and  comf«. 
as  generally  favored  me  during  the  eight  days  while  T 
340  m.  among  the  Kentucky  hills. 

A  dutiful  desire  to  "  help  represent  the  East  "  in  tlic  • 
of  the  League  had  caused  me  to  sojourn  in  Chicago  for  t^ 
spring,  during  which  I  made  trial  of  its  streets  and  park-T< 
75  m.;  and  then  I  took  train  for  Cincinnati,  in  company  ^ 
that  city  returning  from  the  parade,  in  which  their  new  'i^ 
veteen  had  played  so  picturesque  a  part.    None  of  thc- 
from  various  localities  whom  I  talked  with  in  Chicago  h.>  ' 

»Frora  TJU  IVheelmoMf  October,  1883,  pp.  30-37  ("  The  Hills  of  K 


226         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

tered  the  State,  was  the  number  of  people  on  horseback,  going  about  their 
usual  business,  with  bundles,  bags,  baskets,  and  farming  implements,  hitched 
to  their  saddles.  They  seemed  to  outnumber  the  people  who  drove  in  wagons 
or  carriages ;  whereas,  in  the  East,  a  horseback-rider  who  is  not  simply  a 
pleasure-seeker  is  a  rare  bird  indeed.  I  found  that  these  Kentucky  steeds, 
being  only  half  broken,  were  more  inclined  to  take  fright  than  any  others 
known  to  my  experience.  So,  having  inadvertently  caused  one  of  them  to 
back  against  a  fence  and  break  his  harness,  a  few  hours  after  I  began  my 
tour,  I  generally  made  a  practice  of  dismounting  as  they  approached  me. 

A  bicycler  who  happened  to  be  staying  at  the  hotel  in  Williamstown 
assured  me  that,  as  the  next  25  m.  of  pike  southward  would  be  found  very 
rough  and  hilly,  I  had  best  go  by  rail  to  Sadieville,  and  resume  my  tour  at  that 
point.  On  Friday  forenoon,  therefore,  after  riding  i  J  m.  about  the  streets,  for 
the  entertainment  of  an  admiring  populace,  I  took  train  for  the  station  named, 
and,  mounting  there  at  1 1  o'clock,  went  up  and  then  down  a  long  hill,  2  m., 
mostly  afoot,  until  I  reached  a  toll-gate,  where  I  made  a  turn  to  the  1.  and  s. 
From  here  to  the  next  toll-gate,  6i  m.  beyond,  I  rode  nearly  all  the  way  and 
made  very  few  stops.  I  was  now  fairly  in  the  Blue-Grass  Region ;  the  pike 
became  exceedingly  smooth,  and  in  a  little  less  than  i  h.  I  rolled  over  another 
section  of  it  as  long  as  that  last-named,  and  found  myself  at  the  court-house 
in  Georgetown.  The  postmaster,  the  local  editor,  and  "other  prominent  citi- 
zens "  paid  their  respects  to  me  as  I  partook  of  a  lunch,  and  wished  me  good 
luck  when  I  mounted,  at  a  quarter  of  3  o'clock,  for  a  ride  to  the  court-house 
in  Lexington,  which  I  reached  in  i  h.  40  min.  This  stretch  was  the  best  I 
had  yet  encountered, — all  of  it  being  smooth  and  ridable,  though  continuously 
hilly, — and  I  made  no  stops,  except  for  the  sake  of  horses.  At  the  end  of 
every  m.  were  guide-posts,  showing  the  distances  to  both  (Georgetown  and 
Lexington.  The  similitude  of  all  this  fine  rolling  country  to  a  vast  park, 
whereof  I  made  mention  at  the  outset,  was  perhaps  nowhere  more  impressive 
than  in  this  particular  section  of  it.  I  delayed  a  while  in  Lexington,  to  re- 
fresh myself  with  ices  and  fruit,  and  to  talk  with  the  president  of  the  local 
bicycle  club ;  so  that  the  clock  indicated  a  xjuarter  past  5  when  I  resumed  my 
saddle,  with  the  intention  of  seeking  a  bed  at  the  Shaker  Settlement  on 
Pleasant  Hill,  25  m.  beyond.  Thus  far,  since  leaving  Cincinnati,  I  had  been 
traveling  almost  due  s.,  but  for  the  next  44  m.,  ending  at  Perryville,  my 
course  lay  in  a  s.  w.  direction.  All  the  mile-posts  on  this  pike  were  neatly 
lettered  tablets  of  iron,  surmounted  by  the  national  eagle.  The  distances  to 
Lexington,  Pleasant  Hill,  Harrodsburg,  and  Perryville,  were  indicated  on 
each  post,  if  I  rightly  remember ;  and  I  could  thus  estimate  the  rapidity  of  my 
progress  without  stopping  to  consult  the  cyclometer.  My  watch  showed  me 
that  10  min.  was  the  average  time  spent  between  mile-posts.  After  progress- 
ing for  a  while  at  this  rate,  I  turned  1.  at  a  fork  in  the  roads,  some  little  dis- 
tance beyond  a  toll-gate,  in  order  to  reach  the  bridge  over  the  Kentucky  river 
(the  r.-hand  road  would  have  led  to  a  point  where  passage  has  to  be  made  by 


KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE. 


227 


ferry-boat) ;  but,  before  I  reached  it,  the  approach  of  darkness  caused  me  to 
stop  riding.  The  road  would  be  a  pretty  one  by  daylight,  with  overhanging 
rocks  on  one  side  and  the  river  on  the  other ;  and  there  was  an  abundance  of 
little  springs  and  rivulets  of  clear  water  where  the  traveler  might  quench  his 
thirst.  Finally,  after  I  had  plodded  along  on  foot  for  several  miles,  the  moon 
came  out  and  I  resumed  my  ridmg. 

It  was  a  quarter  past  9  when  I  halted  in  front  of  the  big  white  houses  of 
the  Shaker  Settlement,  whose  long  rows  of  windows  glistened  grimly  in  the 
moonlight.  Not  one  of  them  was  illumined  from  within,  however,  and  not  a 
sound  indicative  of  life  could  anywhere  be  heard.  I  had  been  told  that  a  cer- 
tain one  of  the  houses  was  accustomed  to  entertain  strangers;  but  all  the 
houses  looked  alike ;  and  the  gloomy  problem  of  deciding  where  best  to 
make  a  beginning  of  the  attempt  to  arouse  some  of  these  people  from  their 
beds,  or  their  graves,  proved  too  much  for  my  courage.  I  turned  my  face 
away  from  the  ghostly  glare  of  the  windows,  and  glanced  up  at  the  Man 
in  the  Moon,  who  kindly  tipped  a  wink  at  me,  as  if  to  say,  **  I'll  light 
the  road  for  you  to  Harrodsburg,  which  is  only  about  7  m.  further."  So 
on  I  went,  riding  slowly,  for  the  sake  of  safety,  but  riding  all  the  way. 
One  halt,  I  made,  however,  and  devoted  |  h.  to  a  vain  search  for  the  cap  of 
my  oil-can,  which  I  carelessly  dropped  while  lubricating  the  bearings.  I 
laugh  even  now  when  I  recall  the  solitariness  of  the  incident.  It  seems  funny 
to  thuik  of  myself  out  there  amid  the  Kentucky  woods,  persistently  groping 
about  in  the  limestone  dust  of  the  turnpike  for  a  bit  of  brass  which  the  rays 
of  the  midnight  moon  refused  to  reveal  to  me.  The  rattle  of  a  carriage  ap- 
proaching from  the  rear,  for  i  or  2  m.,  as  I  jogged  along  towards  Harrods- 
burg, supplied  the  first  interruption  to  several  hours  of  profound  stillness. 
Allowing  the  vehicle  to  pass  me,  I  entered  the  town  in  its  wake,  and  was 
civilly  directed  by  the  driver  to  Curry's  National  Hotel,  where,  by  persistent 
ringings  of  the  bell,  I  roused  up  the  proprietor  and  effected  an  entrance.  The 
clock  indicated  a  quarter  past  11,  and  my  wheeling  record  for  the  day  was  a 
quarter  more  than  61  m.  The  spacious  bed-room  into  which  I  was  shown  had 
no  outer  window,  but  I  was  too  tired  to  dispute  the  landlord's  assertion  that 
"plenty  of  air  came  in  from  the  hall-way,  through  the  transom";  or  to  ex- 
press any  opinion  of  his  inability  to  provide  even  so  much  as  a  glass  of  milk 
for  my  refreshment.  Any  sort  of  a  resting-place  seemed  attractive ;  so  I  took 
a  big  drink  of  water,  and  sank  to  sleep  at  once. 

The  next  day  I  traveled  hardly  more  than  half  as  far,  but  had  a  much  more 
wearisome  time  of  it,  on  account  of  bad  weather  and  inferior  roads.  The 
Blue-Grass  Region  was  now  all  behind  me,  and  as  I  left  Harrodsburg,  at  a 
quarter  before  10  o'clock,  the  appearance  of  the  country  was  less  attractive 
than  on  the  day  before,  irrespective  olJii^jlQpm  produced  by  the  threatening 
clouds,  which  soon  brought  a  gendiflHBHn|R»  wherefrom  I  took  shelter 
in  a  roadside  shed.  A  little  1^4M^^^VPV^  ^^'*  *^  heairlNr  ihower, 
and  could  find  no  better  Mj^^T^   i^S  ^u^        '^UriaVtti  a^^  '*' 


228  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

long  enough  to  greatly  injure  the  limestone  pike,  however,  and  in  2  h.  I  had 
covered  the  12  m.  which  brought  me  to  the  end  of  it  at  the  little  tavern  in 
Perry ville,  in  whose  wooden  walls  are  still  embedded  some  of  the  cannon-^hot 
fired  in  the  battle  of  that  name.  This  was  fought  on  the  8th  of  October,  1862, 
between  the  armies  of  Buell  and  Bragg,  numbering  perhaps  6o,ooo  men  alto- 
gether ;  and  in  no  other  conflict  of  the  civil  war  was  the  proportion  of  killed 
and  wounded  greater  than  this.  The  official  report  of  Major-General  McCook, 
the  commander  of  the  First  Corps  of  Buell's  army,  called  it  "the  bloodiest 
battle  of  modern  times  for  the  number  of  troops  engaged  on  our  side  " ;  while 
General  Bragg  reported  to  the  Richmond  authorities,  with  equal  literary 
awkwardness,  "  For  the  time  engaged  it  was  the  severest  and  most  desper- 
ately contested  engagement  within  my  knowledge." 

I  took  dinner  at  the  little  tavern,  and  was  told  there  that  I  had  already 
crossed  over  Crawford's  Cave,  from  which  issues  a  stream  of  very  clear  water, 
that  has  never  been  known  to  fail,  even  in  the  extremest  seasons,  when  all 
the  other  springs  have  dried  up.  According  to  local  tradition,  it  was  the  de- 
sire to  control  this  particular  spring  which  caused  the  two  armies  to  try  con- 
clusions with  one  another  here,  though  most  of  the  fighting  was  done  on 
Chaplin  Hills,  i  m.  or  more  away.  None  of  the  official  reports  in  the  "  Re- 
bellion Record  "  give  definite  confirmation  of  this ;  but  all  agree  that  both 
armies  were  suffering  from  a  scarcity  of  water,  and  that  **  the  holding  of  cer- 
tain springs  near  Perryville "  was  considered  by  each  an  object  of  great 
strategic  importance.  I  therefore  wheeled  backward  on  my  course,  in  order 
to  visit  the  cave  and  take  a  drink  of  these  historic  waters.  I  might  have  done 
this  more  conveniently  in  the  forenoon,  soon  after  passing  the  toll-gate  and  the 
post  which  said  "  2  m.  to  Perryville,"  if  only  I  had  been  advised  to  turn  down 
the  path  to  the  r.,  just  beyond  the  red  brick  house. 

Leaving  the  tavern  again  at  2  o'clock,  I  jogged  along  for  i  h.  over  a  good 
gravel  pike  to  the  r.  r.  station  at  Brumfield,  4  m. ;  and  then  another  \  h.  over 
a  rougher  road,  1}  m.,  to  the  toll-gate,  where  a  heavy  shower  compelled  a 
definite  halt.  There  was  a  slight  drizzle  of  rain  when  I  mounted  again  at 
4.30  and  rode  with  great  difficulty,  over  a  muddy  and  stony  track,  for  about  2 
m.  Then  followed  a  similar  distance  of  alternate  walking  and  riding,  during 
which  several  showers  rained  down  upon  me,  without  causing  me  to  halt ; 
and  then,  i  h.  from  the  start,  I  reached  a  hill  where  I  definitely  abandoned 
all  pretense  of  attempting  any  further  progress  in  the  saddle.  For  the  next 
7  or  8  m.  I  continuously  dragged  my  machine  through  deep  mud  or  clambered 
with  it  over  rough  rocks, — stopping  once  in  a  while  to  dig  the  clay  out  from 
the  forks,  when  it  clogged  them  sufficiently  to  prevent  the  revolution  of  the 
wheels,  —  and  on  two  occasions  I  was  forced  to  wade  through  wide  brooks, 
with  the  bicycle  lifted  high  above  my  head.  Even  the  brake-strap  of  my  Lam- 
son  luggage-carrier  was  cut  in  two  by  the  action  of  the  grit  and  mud  on  the 
tire,  and  thenceforth  my  bundle  bobbed  up  and  down  in  a  most  exasperating 
manner  at  every  stone  and  jolt.    Finally,  however,  my  sorrows  began  to  be 


KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE. 


239 


lightened  a  little  by  encountering  same  goodiah  bin  al  road  ;  and,  spite  of  the 
dirkneas,  I  did  considerable  riding  during  the  last  4  or  5  m.,  ending  at  Leba- 
non, which  I  knew  to  be  my  only  attainable  refuge  for  the  night,  when  once 
1  had  turned  my  back  on  Perryville.  It  was  while  riding  slowly  up-hill  in  the 
dirk,  over  some  rough  macadam,  thai  a  loose  stone  stopped  my  wheel  and 
pitched  me  over  the  handle-bar.  I  alighted  squarely  on  my  feet,  however, 
and  my  bicycle  stood  up  squarely  on  its  head,  uninjured  ;  and  this  was  the 
only  fall  that  either  of  us  had  during  that  fortnight  wherein  we  traveled  41 5 

_  . — .1 —     Ti 1 — ^  struck  9  when  I  entered  the  Norris  House,  in  Leba- 

as  a  newer  and  larger  and  better-equipped  establish- 
ther  hotels  as  yet  encountered  by  me  in  Kentucky,  I 
vas  too  late  for  the  supplying  of  anything  whatever  to 
therefore,  having  made  sure  of  the  refreshment  sup- 
ry  suit  of  clothes,  I  sallied  out  on  the  street  in  pursuit 
.  nourishing  substances  I  could  secure  were  crackers 
-snaps,  which  I  found  at  the  chief  "grocery  and  dry- 
ce,  and  which  I  managed  to  wash  down  by  deep  pota- 
jpplementing  this  luxurious  repast  by  a  dessert  of  con- 
sntly  invigorated  to  clean  off  from  my  wheel  all  traces 
:ling  from  Perryville;  though  I  cannot  pretend  that 
3uld  accept  as  a  satisfactory  sequel  to  so  hard  a  jaunt 
jperas  that,  even  though  it  was  Ihe  very  best  which 
le  court-house  town  of  Marion  county  "  at  9  o'clock  of 

ts  end  at  Greensburg,  another  county  town,  z;  m.s.w. ; 
:  tourist  must  resort  to  a  "  dirt  road,"  leading  in  a  sim- 
nilar  distance,  in  order  to  reach  the  Mammoth  Cave. 
;her  meager  testimony  and  decidedly  contradictory  be- 
}f  (he  hotel  concerning  this  route,  I  decided  that  the 
quite  as  toilsome  wheeling  as  the  zo  m.  just  gone  over, 
fould  be  quite  imiiassable  except  on  foot.  I,  there- 
directly  away  from  the  Cave,  and  rode  northward  9  m. 
orthwestward  ig  m.  to  Bardstown  (both  of  these  being 
uthward  t5  m.  to  New  Haven,  where  I  arrived  just 
;  been  a  little  less  than  tt  h.  on  the  road.  I  was  now 
anon,  whence  I  started  in  the  morning,  and  was  no 
ten  ;  for  my  day's  course  of  43  m.  may  be  roughly  de- 
■ee  sides  of  a  square.  For  the  first  h.  out  of  Lebanon 
us,  over  a  good  gravel  pike,  somewhat  hilly  and  wind- 
id  of  the  5i  m,,  a  few  rods  of  loose  stone  had  to  be 
h.  brought  me  to  the  court-house  in  Springfield,  about 
I  a  V^  '  'It,  and  at  the  lop  of  it  had  a  very  long 
^ck,"  returning  from  chureh.  By  ihts 
^  raiD  had  quite  disappeared,  and 


230  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  gravel  track  grew  smoother  as  I  advanced.  I  stopped  i  h.  for  dinner  at 
the  little  hamlet  of  Fredericktown,  9^  m.  from  Springfield,  and  about  the 
same  distance  from  Bardstown,  which  I  reached  at  5  o'clock,  after  a  ride  of 
z\  h.  During  the  first  third  of  this  time  I  rode  without  dismount,  and  cov- 
ered 4}  m.,  including  i  J  m.  of  continuous  up-hill  work.  The  delay  of  \  h., 
caused  by  the  sudden  coming  of  a  sharp  shower  at  Bardstown,  was  improved  in 
tightening  my  steering-head ;  and  then  followed  the  best  and  prettiest  riding 
of  the  day,  15  m.  of  smooth  gravel  pike,  much  of  it  shaded  and  all  of  it  on 
an  up-grade  or  down-grade.  From  a  bridge,  near  some  kerosene  barrels  and 
machinery,  where  I  stopped  to  drink,  just  before  7  o'clock,  I  rode  without  dis- 
mount for  I  h.,  7  m.,  to  the  New  Haven  House.  Coasting  might  have  been 
indulged  in  here  continuously,  for  at  least  i  m.,  though  the  occasional  water- 
courses would  have  required  care.  The  hotel  presented  a  sadly  curious  con- 
trast to  its  better-known  namesake  in  Connecticut ;  for  its  chambers  were  un- 
carpeted,  and  its  general  aspect  was  extremely  diVty ;  but,  as  I  finally  man- 
aged to  secure  a  washbowl  and  a  pitcher  of  water  and  some  towels,  and  as 
my  bed  proved  to  be  free  from  the  expected  bugs,  I  was  not  disposed  to  re- 
pine. So  cool  was  the  weather  that  during  the  forenoon  of  this  day,  as  well 
as  during  the  whole  of  the  previous  one,  I  kept  my  jacket  on ;  though  that 
addition  to  my  white-flannel  riding-shirt  was  discarded  for  the  rest  of  the  tour. 
The  fifth  day  of  this  was  the  worst  one  yet  known  to  my  four  years'  ex- 
perience as  an  explorer  on  the  wheel.  I  awoke  that  Monday  morning  with 
such  a  disagreeable  reminder  of  the  fried  ham  which  had  formed  so  chief  a 
part  in  my  last  night's  supper  that  I  dared  not  further  outrage  my  stomach  by 
attempting  a  breakfast  composed  of  the  same  inevitable  dish.  Starting  off 
at  a  quarter  of  6,  therefore,  with  only  a  glass  of  milk  to  sustain  me,  I  rode 
5}  m.  along  a  smooth  pike  of  gravel  (the  first  level  one  thus  far  encountered) 
through  a  manufacturing  village,  and  to  a  bridge  at  the  foot  of  a  long  ascent. 
Here,  f  h.  from  the  start,  ended  my  good  riding  for  the  day ;  though  short 
mounts  were  possible  for  the  next  9  m.,  which  I  covered  in  about  3  h.  Buffalo 
was  the  name  of  the  village  where  I  then  took  an  hour's  rest,  and  sought  fur- 
ther nutriment  as  a  substitute  for  breakfast  Crackers  and  cheese,  washed 
down  by  a  mixture  of  four  raw  eggs,  beaten  up  with  sugar  and  water,  repre- 
sented the  utmost  capacity  of  the  village  store  as  a  restaurant,  and  the  hos- 
pitable proprietor  thereof  refused  to  accept  any  money  for  the  entertainment. 
But,  at  the  store  in  Magnolia,  5  m.  on,  where  noon  found  me,  nothing  what- 
ever of  an  eatable  nature  was  to  be  procured.  I  was  2  h.  on  the  way,  and 
walked  nearly  all  of  it,  beneath  a  blazing  sun.  The  region  was  rather  barren 
and  uninteresting,  and  two  or  three  small  brooks  had  to  be  forded.  Soft 
stretches  of  sand  alternated  with  rough  sections  of  limestone,  originally  laid 
as  a  foundation  for  the  long-abandoned  pike.  I  was  told  that  this  continued 
southward  to  "  the  burnt-bridge  ferry  over  Green  river.,"  12m.;  then  to 
Canmer,  4  m.,  and  then  to  "  Bar  Waller  "  (Bear  Wallow),  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Cave ;  and  that  some  parts  of  it  were  probably  in  good  condition.    I 


KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE. 


231 


determined^  however,  to  pin  no  more  hopes  to  the  pike,  but  to  strike  west- 
ward, along  a  "dirt-road,"  to  the  nearest  station  on  the  line  of  the  railway, 
which  same  was  called  Upton,  and  proved  to  be  1 1  m.  distant.  I  was  4  h.  in 
getting  there,  and  the  only  riding  possible  was  on  a  few  short  paths  where 
the  dense  shade  had  kept  the  black-clay  hard,  —  perhaps  i  m.  in  all.  With 
this  insignificant  exception,  my  course  from  Magnolia  to  Upton  led  continu- 
ously up  and  down  steep  ridges  of  red  and  yellow  clay,  without  any  level 
interval  between  them.  If  the  reader  can  imagine  a  field  1 1  m.  wide,  which 
a  gigantic  plough  has  turned  over  into  parallel  furrows  50  ft.  deep,  and  can 
then  picture  me,  in  the  blistering  sunshine,  laboriously  lowering  my  bicycle 
down  the  steep  slopes  of  these  furrows  and  painfully  pushing  it  up  the  slopes 
again,  until  the  last  parallel  has  been  crossed,  he  will  gain  a  pretty  good  idea 
of  the  nature  of  my  four  hours*  fun  that  afternoon, — though  hardly  an  adequate 
idea  of  the  nature  of  a  Kentucky  "  dirt  road."  There  were  several  brooks 
which  had  to  be  crossed  on  logs,  or  stones,  or  else  forded ;  but  the  ruts  and 
gullies  of  clay  which  defined  the  road  were  quite  dry.  After  a  few  hours'  rain, 
those  ruts  and  gullies  would  be  transformed  into  a  slough  which  no  man  could 
drag  himself  through,  unless  he  were  naked,  to  say  nothing  of  dragging  a  bicycle. 
A  supper  of  bread  and  milk  at  6  o'clock,  as  a  sequel  to  a  bath  and  assump- 
tion of  dry  clothes  at  Upton,  completes  the  record  of  all  the  food  I  ate  on 
that  tiresome  day.  A  thunder-shower  cooled  the  air  somewhat  before  I  took 
train,  i  h.  later,  and  rode  25  m.  to  the  hotel  at  Cave  City,  which  city  consists 
almost  entirely  of  the  hotel,  and  the  hotel  embraces  the  railroaid  station. 

I  had  been  assured  by  various  people  who  professed  to  have  *'  been  there  " 
that  the  stage-road  of  •9  m.  between  Cave  City  and  the  Cave  itself  would 
prove  an  excellent  path  for  the  bicycle ;  but  the  hotel-man  told  me  differently, 
and  so,  on  that  sixth  day  of  my  tour,  I  did  no  active  wheeling,  but  was 
dragged  by  horse-power  over  a  road  so  indescribably  rough  and  precipitous 
that  the  mere  recollection  thereof  causes  me  to  groan  sympathetically  for  the 
sufferings  of  the  less-hardened  tourists  who  are  all  the  while  being  jolted 
across  it.  The  $3  fare,  which  the  owner  of  the  stage-line  charged  for^he 
round  trip,  seemed  to  me  a  small  sum  to  exact  for  18  m.  of  such  straining 
and  scrambling  of  horse-flesh;  nor  was  I  disposed  to  quarrel  with  the  fee  of 
%2  which  I  paid  the  hotel  people  for  supplying  me  with  a  venerable  negro 
guide,  under  whose  pilotage  I  took  a  two  hours'  tramp  of  5  or  6  m.  amid  the 
dark  and  dreadful  wonders  of  the  Cave.  As  for  the  75  c.  representing  the 
cost  of  a  dinner,  I  rejoiced  at  the  expenditure ;  for  I  had  had  **  nothing  good 
to  eat"  since  I  left  Chicago,  and  here,  at  last,  was  a  chance  to  sit  down  at  a 
table  which  had  been  spread  with  a  due  regard  for  cleanliness,  and  even  an 
attempt  at  elegance,  to  partake  of  well-cooked  food  other  than  '*  hog  and 
hominy,"  and  to  be  waited  on  by  servants  who  were  neatly  dressed  and 
reasonably  well-trained  for  their  duties.  The  hotel,  which  is  managed  by  the 
owners  of  the  Mammoth  Cave,  is  quite  a  large  establishment,  and  serves  as  a 
sort  of  summer  resort  for  the  wealthy  people   of  Louisville  and  Nash- 


232 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ville,  and  other  intermediate  cities.  Of  the  transient  visitors  it  seems  not 
milikely  that  a  majority  may  be  foreigners,  since  every  tourist  from  abroad 
ranks  the  Cave  second  only  to  Niagara  on  his  list  of  objective  points.  Three 
Austrians  arrived  on  the  same  forenoon  as  myself,  and  six  English  people 
were  jolted  back  to  Cave  City  with  me  in  the  afternoon,  but  I  was  the  only 
American.  All  the  Kentuckians  whom  I  questioned  while  on  my  way  thither 
expressed  very  great  pride  in  the  Cave  as  an  honor  to  their  State,  and  "  the 
greatest  natural  wonder  on  the  continent  ** ;  but  only  a  surprisingly  few  of 
them  had  ever  visited  it  personally.  Expression  was  usually  made,  however, 
of  a  genera]  wish  and  intention  to  '*go  down  to  the  Cave  the  next  time  a 
good  excursion  party  is  made  up " ;  and  I  was  assured  by  every  one  that  I 
would  not  r^ret  an  inspection  of  its  mysteries  and  marvels.  This  proved 
true  enough,  of  course ;  but  the  most  agreeable  sight  of  all  was  that  presented 
by  the  green  trees,  and  blue  sky,  and  bright  sunshine,  when  I  escaped  from 
the  gloomy  wonders  of  the  Cave  into  the  open  light  of  day. 

Taking  train  at  5  o'clock  on  Wednesday  morning,  a  ride  of  3  h.  brought 
me  to  Louisville ;  and,  as  I  sat  on  the  outside  platform  for  the  entire  85  m., 
rather  than  subject  myself  to  the  stifling  air  within,  my  white  riding  costume, 
which  had  been  washed  during  my  day's  visit  to  the  Cave,  grew  somewhat 
grimy  again.  Two  of  the  Louisville  riders  accosted  me  on-  my  way  up-town, 
and,  having  directed  me  to  a  restaurant  where  breakfast  could  be  secured, 
agreed  to  meet  me  there  at  10  o'clock,  and  see  me  safely  started  on  my  east- 
ward course  towards  Frankfort.  We  really  mounted  about  10.30,  and  made 
our  first  stop,  for  lemonade,  at  a  wayside  inn,  6  m.  out,  at  a  quarter  past  11. 
At  a  similar  distance  beyond,  we  refreshed  ourselves  at  a  brook,  at  the  foot 
of  a  hill,  and  lay  there  under  the  trees  for  a  farewell  talk  together.  My  com- 
panions then  turned  homeward ;  and  having  watched  them  until  they  disap- 
peared, on  the  crest  of  a  distant  hill,  I  cleaned  and  oiled  my  wheel,  strapped 
my  jacket  on  the  handle-bar  (as  the  sun  now  shone  forth  warmly),  and  at  a 
quarter  past  I  o'clock  started  on  for  Simpsonville,  1 1  m.  away.  The  village 
hotel  was  not  a  large  one,  but  I  secured  some  bread  and  milk  while  I  halted 
there,  from  3.30  to  3.45  o'clock,  and  then  rolled  on,  7 J  m.  further,  to  Shelby- 
ville,  at  5.  This  is  a  county  town  of  considerable  local  celebrity  for  its  young 
ladies'  seminaries;  and  the  groups  of  school  girls  sauntering  about  the 
streets  in  their  newly-made  graduation  gowns  gave  the  place  quite  a  gay  and 
jaunty  appearance.  Perhaps  the  unwonted  spectacle  unnerved  me  or  made 
me  careless,  for  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from  adding  to  their  merriment  by 
taking  a  plunge  into  the  mud,  as  I  toiled  up  a  hill  which  a  watering-cart  had 
freely  sprinkled ;  but  the  little  wheel  graciously  dropped  back  to  its  proper 
place,  and  I  made  no  dismount  until  the  sign  of  "ice-cream  and  fruit" 
tempted  me  to  \  h.  halt.  The  road,  which  had  been  gradually  increasing  in 
goodness  the  further  I  advanced  from  Louisville,  was  now  very  fine,  and 
during  the  next  2  h.  I  had  my  swiftest  spin  of  the  day,  and  covered  almost  14 
m.    After  a  brief  stop  for  water  and  oil,  I  rode  in  the  gathering  dusk  till  8 


K  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE. 


233 


for  I  h.  pretty  continuous! f,  including  a  z  m.  descent 
(died  my  journey's  end  at  Buhr's  Hotel,  52J  m.  from 
tance  is  composed  of  long  up^adea  or  down-grades, 
e  ridabte,  and  there  are  few  sleep  pitcbca.  Some  of 
:o  Frankfort  and  back  on  a  single  day  of  the  previ* 
inished  in  a  snow-alonn,  quite  late  in  the  evening, 
city  of  Kentucky  at  8.30  on  Thursday  morning,  I 
m.,  just  at  noon,  and  tarried  for  l}  h.  at  tbe  same 
Uronized  the  previous  Friday.  I  was  now  again  in 
nd  my  first  i  ta.  from  the  State  House  had  led  up- 
where  the  r.-hand  road  would  have  led  me  to  Ver- 
d  so  to  Parts, — a  somewhat  less  direct  route  to  that 
The  distance  from  Georgetown  to  Paris  is  16  m., 
1  quarter  before  5,  having  made  one  short  stop  at 
My  route  from  Louisville  to  Paris  had  been  almost 
to  the  n.  e.,  and  kept  in  that  direction  to  the  end,  at 
I  House,  in  Millersburg,  where  I  stopped  for  the 
I  age,  was  tbe  most  comfortable  country  inn  I  found 
^d  at  6.10  o'clock,  and  was  S^  m.  from  my  stopping- 
I.  to  mtn.  in  doing  the  distance,  which  comprised  the 
nd  in  Kentucky.  Otherwise  the  roads  of  the  day 
but  generally  smooth;  and  the  entire  distance  re- 
commencement exercises  of  Georgetown  College 
thereto  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  region  roundabout, 
ranted  bustle  and  activity;  but  I  was  told  that  the 
Med  of  only  two.  Millersburg  also  boasts  of  an  in- 
tance, — the  Kentucky  Wesleyan  University, — but  I 
rthing  of  its  graduation  exercises, 
ly  tour  I  made  the  earliest  start  of  the  entire  year, 
5.10,  and  riding  rapidly  till  7,  when  I  reached  the 
ck  Spring,  13  m.,  and  slopped  l\  h.  for  breakfast, 
tty  continuously  for  J  h.,  3^  m.,  and  rested  at  a  toll. 
and  transfer  my  baggage  from  the  handle-bar  to  my 
needed  to  allow  my  coasting  down-hill  for  (he  fol- 
Iso  indulged  in  considerable  coasting  before  break- 
Tal  had  emerged  once  more  from  the  well-defined 
Region.  Being  very  hot  when  I  reached  the  Oak 
ue  Lick,  I  bathed  my  face  and  drank  profusely  be- 
i.io  o'clock.  I  reached  the  watcr-lroagh  and  toll- 
stance  of  7  m.  by  the  cyclometer,  26  min.  later,  and 
t  spin  of  the  day,  or  of  any  day  yet  known  to  my  ex- 
wn  grade  much  of  the  lime,  and  I  ended  by  coasting 
1  open  winding  road,  whose  downward 
e  ahead.    The  grade  was  generally 


234 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


-upward  for  the  next  h.,  during  which  I  accomplished  about  5  m. ;  and  then, 
on  the  stroke  of  noon,  my  wheel  suddenly  stiffened  up  and  refused  to  obey 
the  orders  of  the  handle-bar.  A  careful  oiling  of  all  the  parts  proved  no 
cure  for  the  trouble,  and  after  riding  a  few  short  stretches  without  regaining 
the  ability  to  steer,  I  discovered  that  there  was  a  crack  in  the  steering-head, 
and  that  the  severed  parts  were  kept  in  place  only  by  pressure.  I  therefore 
trudged  along  carefully  to  Maysville,  a  distance  of  2  m.,  and  had  the  good 
fortune  to  reach  the  river  there  just  in  season  to  catch  the  i  o'clock  steam- 
boat for  Cincinnati,  about  60  m.  below,  where  I  disembarked  some  7  h.  later. 
My  forenoon's  record  was  58  m. ;  and,  except  for  the  accident,  which  upset 
my  plan  of  classing  the  Ohio  river  and  touring  through  the  State  of  that 
name,  I  might  perhaps  have  ridden  an  equal  distance  in  the  afternoon.  The 
heat  increased  as  the  day  advanced,  however,  and  was  very  great  for  a  few 
days  following ;  so  perhaps  I  was  lucky  in  being  forced  to  end  my  tour  when 
I  reached  the  edge  of  Kentucky.  I  traversed  340  m.  within  its  limits,  or  an 
average  of  42^  m.  for  each  of  the  eight  days  that  I  rode ;  and  my  total  f ecord 
then  lacked  only  100  of  reaching  5,000  m.  The  next  day,  having  packed  off 
my  bicycle  in  a  freight  car  for  the  manufactory  at  Hartford,  I  took  train 
homeward  for  New  York. 

The  possible  pleasures  of  "  bicycling  in  the  Blue  Grass,**  and  conquering 
the  hills  of  northern  Kentucky  a-wheelback,  I  cannot  too  highly  commend ; 
but,  to  those  riders  whom  this  report  may  incline  to  follow  in  my  trail,  I 
would  offer  a  few  words  of  caution.  Bicyclers  who  seek  the  Mammoth  Cave 
should  not  attempt  to  push  their  wheels  any  nearer  to  it  than  Louisville. 
The  pike  southward  from  there  to  Bardstown,  about  35  or  40  m.,  is  said  to 
supply  good  wheeling;  and  thence  eastward  to  Springfield,  19  m.,  I  have 
described  it  as  good.  Between  that  point  and  Harrodsburg,  25  m.,  I  know 
nothing  of  its  character ;  but,  if  it  chances  to  be  passable,  there  will  be  no 
break  in  the  good  riding  to  Lexington,  33  m.,  and  Paris,  15  m.,  whence  the 
return  may  be  made  directly  w.,  through  Georgetown,  Frankfort,  and  Shelby- 
ville,  to  Louisville,  86  m., — ^making  a  round  trip  of  about  220  m.  without 
repetition.  If  the  road  between  Springfield  and  Harrodsburg  is  not  good, 
the  tourist  making  the  round  trip  may  cross  from  Lebanon  to  Brumfield,  with 
the  chance  of  finding  the  poorer  half  of  those  16  m.  more  tolerable  in  dry 
weather  and  daylight  than  I  found  them  in  the  night-time  after  a  shower. 
Branch  railroads  connect  both  Bardstown  and  New  Haven,  which  is  15  m. 
s.,  with  the  main  line,  whereby  one  may  ride  back  to  Louisville,  or  proceed 
onward  to  Cave  City.  The  beautiful  n.  and  s.  pike  of  11  m.,  connecting 
Lexington  and  Georgetown,  may  be  considered  as  the  base  of  two  triangles, — 
the  apex  of  the  eastern  one  being  at  Paris,  15  or  16  m.  away,  and  that  of  the 
western  one  being  at  Frankfort,  17  or  20  m.  In  other  words,  from  either  one 
of  those  four  points  a  bicycler  may  make  a  trip  of  about  65  m.  around  the 
"  double  triangle,'*  or  a  trip  of  42  or  48  m.  around  one  of  the  single  triangles, 
without  repeating  his  course  at  all,  or  encountering  any  poor  pieces  of  road. 


KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE.         235 

or  going  outside  the  Blue  Grass  Region.  If  a  ride  from  Paris  to  Maysville 
and  back  (90  m.)  be  added  to  the  *'  round  trip  from  Louisville/'  as  already 
described,  the  whole  tour  will  amount  to  a  little  more  than  300  m. ;  but  I  am 
sure  that  any  good  rider  could  easily  accomplish  it  within  a  week,  and  still 
have  several  hours  left  in  which  to  prolong  it  across  the  river  into  Indiana, 
whose  roads,  from  New  Albany,  are  smooth  for  quite  a  number  of  miles. 

Defioite  oonfimutioo  ol  my  final  remark  is  afforded  in  the  following  valuable  report,  pre- 
pand  for  me  by  John  M.  Verhoeff  (b.  Feb.  18,  1866),  a  student  in  the  Louisville  High  School : 
"  Indiana,  rather  than  Kentucky,  was  the  scene  of  my  longest  straightaway  mfe  without  dis- 
BKNmt,  and  Oct.  11,  '84,  was  the  date  of  iL  Stanii^  at  the  top  of  the  hill  in  New  Albany,  at 
9.18  ▲.  M.,  I  made  my  fint  stop  at  the  31st  m.-post,  at  1.23  p.  m.,  a  distance  of  33  m.  This  was 
00  the  old  road  leading  n.  w.  to  Vincennes,  104  m.  from  the  feny  at  New  Albany,  and  only  half 
the  diitancf  can  be  described  by  me.  Stones  have  been  put  on  only  as  far  as  Paoli,  4a  m.  from 
the  ferry.  From  the  center  of  Louisville,  one  should  ride  either  through  High  av.,  Bank  st.  or 
Portland  av.  about  4I  m.  to  the  feny  at  Portland,  and  then,  after  leaving  the  boat,  climb  the 
hill,  ride  one  square  L,  and  follow  State  st.  straight  into  the  Paoli  pike.  The  mile>po6ts  are 
wooden,  like  those  on  the  railroads,  and  the  first  of  them  (which  will  be  met  u  10  or  xa  min.,  by 
the  first  toll-gate)  says  '  41  m.  to  Paoli.'  I  think  this  is  a  mistake,  for  all  the  other  posts  are 
numbered  from  New  Albany,  and  the  last  one  before  entering  Paoli  is  the  39th.  The  ferry  is 
a  m.  from  the  first  post  and  toll.gate,  so  that  the  whole  distance  from  the  river  is  41  m.  Green- 
ville  hin  is  met  about  3  m.  along  the  pike,  and  is  the  longest  one  on  it,  being  a  steady  rise  for 
x^  UL,  with  Mooresville  at  the  summit.  Then  follow  Galena,  at  the  7th  m.-post,  Greenville  at 
the  loth.  Palmyra,  at  the  17th,  Fredericksburg  between  the  a3d  and  24th  (I  think),  and  Hardlns- 
burg  between  the  a/th  and  a8th.  At  the  31st  is  a  stony  hill,  not  easy  to  climb.  It  was  this  that 
forced  my  dismount  on  the  long  ride.  The  school  house  of  Paoli  is  at  the  39th,  amd  the  court 
house  I  m.  beyond.  The  dirt  road  continues  ridable  so  far  as  I  have  any  knowledge  of  it,  which 
is  to  Prospect  (10  m.),  and  there  are  good  bridges  over  the  creeks.  West  Baden  and  French 
Lkk  springs  lie  about  a  m.  from  Prospect,  on  a  road  to  the  left  This  pike  is  one  of  the 
smoothest  leading  out  of  L.,  and  the  6  m.  between  Palmyra  and  F.  is  the  smoothest  section  of  it. 

"  To  reach  what  is  called  the  Corydon  pike,  leading  s.  w.  from  New  Albany,  you  should  f ol- 
k>w  Main  st.,  the  second  one  from  the  river,  to  which  it  is  parallel ;  and  you  will  soon  come  in 
sq^ht  of  a  large  hill, — one  of  the  Knobs.  About  4  m.  below  is  Corydon  hill,  which  is  considered 
the  hardest  climbing  in  this  region,  for,  though  not  steep,  it  has  a  steady  rise  for  nearly  two  m., 
ending  at  EdwardviUe,  which  is  just  over  the  tunnel  and  is  the  highest  spot  for  miles  around. 
Lanesville  is  6  m.  on,  and  the  pike  ends  at  Corydon,  ai  m.  from  the  start.  The  dirt  road  to 
Wjrandot  Cave,  9  m.  beyond,  is  said  to  be  good,  but  I  never  tried  it.  A  sulphur  well  may  be 
seen,  on  the  1.,  '  where  the  palings  are,'  about  i  m.  before  reaching  Corydon.  The  e.  and  n. 
route  from  New  Albany  is  through  Spring  st.  to  the  Charlestown  pike.  After  7  m.  ride  you 
win  strike  the  pike  leading  fran  JeffersonviUe  to  C,  at  a  point  ik  m.  from  J.  About  i^  m. 
before  this,  you  will  cross  the  pike  leading  from  J.  to  Hamburg,  8  m.  All  these  are  rather 
roug^  A  dirt  road  continues  on  from  Hamburg  to  Salem,  said  to  be  about  35  m. ;  and  a  road 
from  New  Albany  joins  this  at  BennettviUe  (r.  r.),  where  a  sign  says  10  m.  to  New  Albany  and 
It  m.  to  JeffersonviOe.  I  have  found  thu  road  fairiy  good  as  far  as  Providence,  or  rather  to  a 
point  30  m.  from  JeffersonviUe  and  within  1  m.  of  P.  I  turned  back  because,  after  crossing  a 
creek  two  or  three  times  (there  are  no  bridges),  I  came  to  a  ford  too  wide  for  easy  passage. 
About  a  m.  from  J.,  on  the  way  to  Hamburg,  a  pike  branches  oS.  r.  to  Charlestown,  14  m.,  but 
tX  is  very  rough  in  places.  Another  road,  called  the  Utica  pike,  runs  along  the  river  7  m.  to 
Utica,  and  strikes  the  aforesaid  Charlestown  pike  about  a  m.  from  C.  The  dirt  roads  beyond 
are  not  good.  Of  the  several  caves  near  C. ,  Bamett's  is  said  to  make  the  most  attractive  show- 
ing of  stalactites.    It  is  i  m.  w.,  and  the  road  thither  is  the  bottom  of  a  creek  sometimes  dry. 

"  The  n.  e.  pike  out  of  Louisville,  commonly  called  the  river  road,  runs  to  the  15  m.-stone 


236         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  . 

at  Goshen  (18  m.  from  any  home).    Old  Hamburg  isa  m.  beyond,  c 
2  m.  from  Hall's  Landing,  on  the  river.    This  pike  is  good  and 
Creek,  at  7  m.-stone ;  and  becomes  even  smoother,  after  crossing  t 
steep  but  all  ridable,  and  I  like  this  section  the  best  because  of  its  - 
stone,  a  good  pike  branches  off  to  Brownsboru,  6  or  7  m. ;  and  t 
direct  pike  which  runs  from  Louisville  (end  of  Story  av.)  to  Browns 
ington,  II  m.  from  the  start,  after  good  riding  up  and  down  short  1 
middle,  where  the  road  forks.    The  1.  leads  to  Brownsboro,  over  sn 
though  there  is  a  very  long  hill,  a  m.  before  reaching  that  village. 
6  m.  to  Anita  Springs,  which  is  ^  m.  from  Lagrange.    The  r.  i> 
Beard  station  on  r.  r.  8  m.,  and  thence  the  pike  continues  good  (th- 
m.  e.,  and  fairiy  good  also,  though  not  all  paved,  to  Smithfield  (r.  i 
to  extend  e.  to  New  Castle  and  then  n.  to  Campbellsburg.    A  goo* 
to  Simpsonville  (13  m.  was  given  as  the  distance  by  a  resident,  tl 
15^  mOi  which  is  23  m.  from  Louisville,  on  the  regular  Shelbyvillc 
by  bicyclers,  and  the  one  you  traversed  in  going  from  L.  to  Frai 
reach  it  from  the  center  of  the  dty  is  to  foDow  Main  st.  to  the 
and  follow  this  to  the  turn-table  of  the  street  cars,  where  the  pik 
other  route  is  to  follow  Broadway,  turn  1.  at  Cave  HiU,  follow 
(connecting  the  Bardstown  and  Shelbyville  branch  pikes),  on  wh 
House  road,  on  which  ride  r.  (e.)  for  3^  m.  till  you  readi  the  pike 
called  St.  Matthews  P.  0.)>  6  m.  out,  but  only  3  m.  from  the  dty 
is  at  the  second  toll-gate,  3  m.  beyond ;  and  Middletown,  the  ol 
is  13  m.  from  the  start.  At  Simpsonville,  23  m.  from  home,  a  p<' 
m.  and  strikes  the  Fincfaville  pike  i  m.  from  the  r.  r.  at  F.    A' 
pike  branches  s.  5  m.  to  F.  and  keeps  on  for  $  m.  more  (last  m 
strikes  the  Taylonville  pike,  6  m.  from  T.    Thus  the  distance  f 
a  direct  road  it  would  not  be  nearly  so  far.    A  rough,  stony  and 
Eden,  exactly  la  m.,  and  a  man  there  told  me  it  continued  to 
shows  that  main  roads,  probably  pikes,  extend  n.  to  Frankfort, 
sailles).    A  dirt  road  goes  from  Mt.  Eden  to  Little,  8|  m.  (the- 
stones  as  to  be  unridable),  and  will  probably  be  some  day  comj'' 
"  Louisville  ladies  often  drive  out  to  the  old  reservoir,  5  1 
smooth  pike  leading  thither,  is  a  continuation  of  Southall  st. 
m.),  however,  ranks  next  in  wheelmen's  favor  to  the  e.  or  Sht 
runs  are  had  to  the  half-way  point,  Mt.  Washington,  20  m.,  wt. 
An  ascent  of  x  m.  must  be  made  to  reach  this,  and  the  followiti 
town  pike  begins  at  the  head  of  Baxter  av.,  and  some  of  the  fii 
Point,  4^  m. ;  Fern  Creek,  7  m.  beyond,  and  Fairmount,  14}  t 
stone,  is  Hayes  Spring,  whose  water  is  always  cool  enough  t() 
procured,  if  wished  for,  at  tlie  adjoining  public  house.    At  I  )• 
branches  off  1.  (n.  e.)>  and  is  good  straight  along  for  30  m.  t 
called  Little  Mount,  which  is  6  m.  beyond  the  court-house  tow 
consider  the  best  stretch  on  this  pike  the  7  m.  from  Jeffer^ 
to  Fisherville,  entrance  into  which  is  by  a  long  descent     Th! 
at  the  first  toll-gate  just  beyond  the  creek  another  good  pike  b< 
Both  roads  at  the  fork,  which  is  reached  in  about  5  m.,  lead  t< 
as  the  r.  road  strikes  the  Shelbyville  and  TaylorsviUe  pike,  .< 
ride  n.  on  this  to  where  the  other  one  strikes.    The  fact  that 
way  back  without  dismount,  mostly  at  a  lo-m.  pace,  shows  ' 
Little  Mount  a  pike  runs  w.  through  Normandy  (r.  r.),  striki 
near  Wilsonville,  about  8(  m.     It  seemed  rough  on  the  darl 
bicycle,  but  might  perhaps  be  ridable  by  daylight.     From  .* 


XVIII. 

ALONG  THE  POTOMAC* 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  October  23, 1881,  that  I  reached  the  famous 
river  at  Williamsport,  though  I  took  train  from  New  York  just  a  week  before 
that,  and  stopped  in  Philadelphia  for  an  afternoon's  indulgence  in  an  explora- 
tion (23  m.)  of  the  roads  of  Fairmount  Park.  The  next  forenoon  (Oct.  17)  I  made 
the  acquaintance  of  Druid  Hill  Park,  Baltimore,  to  the  extent  of  15  m.  and  then 
embarked  on  steamer  for  a  patriotic  pilgrimage  to  Yorktown,  and  three  days' 
attendance  there  upon  the  centennial  ceremonies  in  celebration  of  Com- 
wallis's  surrender.  Forewarned  of  the  deep  sands  characteristic  of  that  re> 
gion,  I  left  my  wheel  behind,  and  on  the  2i8t  took  it  by  train  to  Frederick, 
whence  on  the  22d  I  rode  to  Hagerstown,  over  the  route  described  by"  C.  W.*' 
in  Bi.  World  of  July  29.  The  distance  registered  was  26^  m.,  and  before 
starting  I  rode  6  m.  in  the  environs  of  Frederick,  in  company  with  the  editor 
of  one  of  the  local  journals ;  his  hated  rival,  who  edits  the  opposition  jour- 
nal being  also  a  wheelman.  I  will  not  try  to  improve  upon  the  "  Notes  from 
the  Blue  Ridge,"  supplied  by  "  C.  W."  aforesaid,  as  satisfactorily  telling  what 
I  myself  learned  by  that  pleasant  day's  jaunt  along  the  Old  National  Pike, 
across  two  mountain  ranges,  where  the  battle  of  South  Mountain  was  fought 
(Sept.  14,  1862),  of  which  some  resident  eye-witnesses  gave  me  interesting 
descriptions.  "  C.  W.'s"  record  of  distances,  being  made  from  memory,  did 
not  coincide  entirely  with  that  of  my  cyclometer ;  but  the  **  notes,"  as  a  whole, 
are  an  entirely  proper  guide  for  the  tourist  He  said,  "  I  recommend  the 
Baldwin  House  as  the  best  hotel  in  Maryland  at  which  I  have  stopped";  and 
I  most  heartily  support  the  recommendation,  though  "  Bucephale  *'  (in  de- 
scribing a  trip  down  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  B,  W.^  Nov.  25,  '81)  has  spoken 
superlatively  for  a  rival  establishment  there.  New,  clean,  and  good  hotels  in 
the  South  are  so  extremely  scarce  that  I  think  it  only  fair  to  make  a  special 
point  in  favor  of  this  one,  which  is  unequivocally  "  the  best,"  not  only  in 
Hagerstown,  but  in  all  that  region.  I  found  it  incomparably  more  clean  and 
comfortable  than  two  at  least  of  the  high-priced  hotels  in  Baltimore  whereof 
I  have  knowledge ;  and  its  charge  of  %\  for  supper  and  lodging  was  certainly 
as  low  as  I  ever  expect  to  find  in  the  "  lowest "  hotel  that  I  may  be  forced  to 
take  shelter  in.  The  City  Hotel,  in  Frederick,  in  every  way  inferior,  charged 
$2  for  supper,  lodging,  and  breakfast,  which  was  an  advance  on  the  price  re- 
corded by  **  C.  W."  a  few  months  before. 

Two  headers,  taken  in  quick  succession,  made  memorable  my  ride  to 

^From  The  Bicycling  Worlds  June  23,  July  14,  18S3,  pp.  403-4041  441-443. 


ALONG  THE  POTOMAC.  239 

Hagerstown,  —  one  caused  by  a  stone  on  a  down-grade,  and  the  other  by 
slipping  the  pedal  while  pushing  up-hill,  —  for  those  were  the  only  falls  in  my 
entire  tour  of  240  m.  The  next  morning  I  reached  the  Taylor  House  in  Williams- 
port  at  7.30,  after  a  ride  of  f  m.,  demanding  only  one  dismount  on  account  of 
road  repairs.  My  register  of  the  distance  was  5J  m.,  though  "  C.  W.**  calls 
it  7,  which  perhaps  was  nearer  the  truth.  Delaying  i  h.  for  breakfast,  I 
mounted  upon  the  tow-path  of  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal,  and  proceeded 
westward,  reaching  Hancock,  the  first  town,  25  m.  on,  soon  after  noon.  Here 
I  entered  the  Light  House,  as  being  the  least  squalid  looking  of  several 
shabby  little  taverns,  and  really  dined  quite  sumptuously  there ;  although  I 
presume  that  on  any  other  day  than  Sunday  I  should  not  have  fared  as  well, 
cither  in  respect  to  food  or  clean  table  service  or  neatly  dressed  table-com- 
panions. Seven  miles  from  WilUamsport  was  the  "  slackwater "  of  more 
than  \  m.,  where  the  tow-path  was  so  rocky  as  even  to  make  walking  rather 
difficult ;  and  3  m.  beyond  some  more  walking  had  to  be  resorted  to,  on  ac- 
count of  a  "block"  of  canal  boats.  The  rarity  of  moving  boats,  however, 
was  of  course  a  great  advantage  ;  and  with  the  two  exceptions  named,  I  rode 
straight  along  to  Hancock,  —  this  being  my  first  really  satisfactory  experience, 
of  tow-path  wheeling  anywhere. 

**  C.  W.'s  "  knowledge  of  the  path  ended  at  Hancock,  but  he  expressed  a 
belief  that  it  would  continue  equally  good  to  the  end  at  Cumberland,  some  6o 
m.  beyond.  He  cautioned  me,  however,  about  the  difficulty  of  getting  any* 
thing  to  eat,  as  the  whole  region  is  very  thinly  inhabited,  with  no  public  house 
of  any  sort  between  the  two  points  named.  I  remembered  his  caution  when 
I  started  on  at  2  P.  M.,but  I  did  n't  realize  the  force  of  it ;  for  I  was  fortified 
by  a  good  dinner,  and  by  the  information  that  at  a  point  about  half-way  to 
Cumberland  there  was  a  privately  owned  "  brick  house  "  (most  of  the  habi- 
tations of  that  region  are  log-and-mud  cabins),  where  I  could  count  on  "  getting 
handsomely  taken  care  of  for  the  night."  The  path,  for  the  most  part,  con- 
tinued smooth  and  hard,  and  at  5.30  p.  m.,  when  dusk  was  closing  in,  I  reached 
the  designated  point,  54  m.  from  Hagerstown.  The  only  hindrance  of  the 
afternoon  was  a  long  procession  of  boats  that  had  been  "  blocked "  by  the 
low  water.  The  "  brick  house  "  of  my  hopes  was  a  forlorn  little  abode,  ter- 
rible to  look  upon ;  but "  there  I  was,"  in  the  gathering  gloom  of  the  desert. 
I  had  no  option  but  to  seek  shelter  for  the  night ;  and  this,  after  some  demur, 
was  granted  me.  I  slept  soundly  the  sleep  of  the  just,  after  assuming,  by 
way  of  night-dress,  my  extra  drawers,  as  well  as  shirt.  This  was  a  lucky  pre- 
caution, for  it  kept  the  bed-bugs  from  feeding  upon  me  much  above  my  ankles 
and  elbows.  Consequently,  in  the  morning,  I  counted  only  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  bites  upon  my  arms  and  feet.  If  the  interesting  insects  had  had 
a  fair  show  that  night  at  my  entire  anatomy,  they  would  have  doubtless  made 
so  picturesque  a  fresco  of  it  as  to  cause  "  Captain  Costentenus,  the  tattooed 
Greek,"  to  turn  pale  with  envy. 

The  tow-path  was  unridablc  that  morning  because  of  a  hard  rain  during 


240  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  night,  and  the  drops  were  drizzling  down  dismally  as  I  munched  my  inde- 
scribable "  breakfast "  (the  counterpart  of  my  unspeakable  **  supper  "  of  the 
night  before),  and  fared  for  the  nearest  lock-house,  thankful  that  I  had  es- 
caped with  my  life,  but  doubting  whether  I  had  best  retrace  my  course  or  con- 
tinue towards  Cumberland.  At  11.30  A.  M.  a  canal  boat  bound  in  that  direc- 
tion gave  me  a  chance  to  decide  by  jumping  upon  its  deck.  I  stayed  there  4 
h.,  during  which  there  was  a  progress  of  8  m. ;  the  last  m.  being  through  a 
tunnel,  which  is  impassable  except  on  a  boat,  or  just  in  the  rear  of  the  team 
that  draws  a  boat  Then  at  3.30  P.  M.,  as  the  path  seemed  tolerably  dry,  I 
jumped  ashore  and  made  my  first  mount  of  the  day, — knowing  that  darkness 
would  stop  my  riding  in  less  than  3  h.,  and  that  I  could  find  no  rest  until  I 
reached  Cumberland,  30  m.  away.  The  track  was  generally  somewhat  heavy 
on  account  of  the  rain,  but  there  were  some  good  stretches,  and  I  covered  9 
m.  in  less  than  i^  h.  At  6.15  p.  M.  the  darkness  decided  me  to  risk  my  neck 
no  further,  and  I  jumped  down  at  the  post  labeled  "C.  12}  m.,"  with  16  m.  to 
my  credit.  An  hour  later,  I  stopped  a  few  minutes  at  the  "  nine-mile  lock  " 
for  a  supper  of  crackers  and  milk,  my  "  dinner  "  having  consisted  of  a  quart 
of  canned  peaches,  which  was  the  only  eatable  thing  I  could  buy  at  the  lock- 
house  just  before  entering  the  tunnel.  Some  flinty  apples  and  mildewed 
"  candy  "  formed  the  rest  of  my  diet  for  that  dreary  day.  Practically,  I  had 
eaten  nothing  substantial  since  noon  of  the  previous  day  at  Hancock,  and  the 
vast  and  inextinguishable  itching  of  the  bed-bug  bites  added  to  my  serenity, 
as  at  half-past  7  o'clock  I  plunged  into  the  pitchy  darkness  which  shut  me  ofi 
from  Cumberland.  The  **  nine-mile  level  "  ending  there  formed  the  longest  9 
m.  known  to  my  somewhat  extended  experience.  Save  for  a  lone  canal-boat 
that  I  passed  about  the  middle  of  the  tramp,  I  saw  not  a  thing  and  I  heard 
not  a  thing  suggestive  of  human  life.  The  silence  was  as  profound  as  the 
darkness.  Not  a  noise,  not  a  light,  for  the  whole  9  m.  Through  the  fog  I 
could  trace  the  course  of  the  path  for  only  a  few  rods  ahead  of  me,  and  it 
really  seemed  as  if  no  end  would  ever  come  to  iL  Lacking  matches,  I  could 
not  even  console  myself  by  examining  watch  and  cyclometer.  At  times  I  had 
to  toil  laboriously  through  the  mud.  At  one  place  I  had  to  guide  my  wheel 
over  the  narrow  plank  of  a  "  waste-weir  '*  which  I  could  hardly  see.  But  the 
general  monotony  of  my  progress  was  most  oppressive.  I  lost  all  definite  con<^ 
sciousness  of  time  and  space.  The  end  came  at  last,  however,  when  I  trundled 
my  wheel  into  the  Queen  City  Hotel,  at  ia30  P.  m.,  and  plunged  into  one  of 
its  bath-tubs.  Too  weary,  after  my  long  fast,  to  care  for  any  food,  I  sent  my 
wet  and  spattered  garments  to  the  drying  room,  and  betook  myself  to  bed. 
thankful  that  the  comforts  of  civilization  were  once  more  within  my  grasp. 

The  hotel  seems  to  be  the  newest  and  best  in  town,  and  it  is  conducted  by 
the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  Company,  of  whose  station  it  forms  a  part. 
Taking  train  at  10  the  next  forenoon,  I  rode  down  to  Harper's  Ferry,  with  an 
idea  of  staying  there  all  night,  and  on  the  following  day  pushing  my  wheel 
down  the  lower  60  m.  of  the  canal  to  Washington,  whither  I  had  despatched 


ALONG  THE  POTOMAC. 


14 1 


my  ba^age  from  Baltimore.  But  the  room  in  the  chief  bolet  where  dinner 
was  served  me  was  so  intolerably  dirty  that  I  feared  the  bed-rooms  might  lit 
as  bad  as  the  one  at  the  "brick  house"  of  bitter  memory.  Learnuig,  there- 
fore, that  "hotels  "of  some  sort  existed  at  a  place  called  "Point  of  Koc*.," 
11  miles  further  down,  and  hoping  that  they  might  be  lieitrr  il-jn  tie  <jrie  at 
Harper's  Ferry,  inasmuch  as  they  could  not  possilriy  be  nixic.  I  ;-j^?-(f  li'trr 
there  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  the  tow-path  beir.g  r-xii  li.;  i»-i  V- 
turns,  and  requiring  frequent  dismounts.  1  was  ii.m  Ai-.d  -7  t:j—-i  a  .-.-j-t 
less  vile  than  the  one  I  fled  from,  and  I  was  not  Uo-i'j.ti  i.7  v-_r4.  I.-.-  ■•: 
my  two  hours' stay  at  Harper's  Ferry,  I  climbed  the  hi;i,  w-.r-jii  -.--#(  n:*--  --:  1  .■ 
a  magniticent  view  of  the  Shenandoah  and  Potomac  (a.;e^i.  ■ ; .-  t  ---j^ik  :.' 
gether  at  that  point. 

My  fourth  and  final  day  on  the  tow-palh  was  not  a  ha^.r-r  rre.    Ai  1.'  iin^ 
dance  of  stones,  both  loose  and  fixed,  spots  of  soft  arxd,  T:-i~ri  -A  -.a:'.  ■  .,- 
puddles  of  mud,  numerous  "  wasto-weirs  "  (three  of  which  i.^-i  ■-,  r.  ■!..,■,; 
through  on  account  of  the  entire  absence  of  planks,  and  from  :ive  p.,!.-.*  -j  i 
fourth  one  of  which  I  let  my  wheel  slip  into  the  water,  soakit.j  tt.-  :-. '.   :• 
clothes  on  the  handle-bar) — all  these  things  enforced  slow  riilin;  ar,':  '.!'..■. .  —  : 
dismounts.     Never  during  the  day  did  I  ride  i  m.  without  st'>^.  ar.d  ri.->  ; 
)  PI.    Soon  after  the  start,  I  sprained  my  ankle  on  a  stone,  and  for  4  or   :  .-.. 
each  one  of  ray  innumerable  mounts  and  dismounts  was  attended  with  de-.,-.  •; 
pain.    Towards  the  close  of  the  day  the  soreness,  which  at  noon   I  fur*  -. 
might  increase  to  the  point  of  disabling  me,  disappeared  entirely.     I.ia.,-./ 
Point  of  Rocks  in  the  dusk  of  daybreak  at  6,  I  breakfasted  on  bread  t:.-: 
milk  1}  h.  later,  at  lock  27.     At  i45P.m„I  stopped  at  lock  24,  which  »*. 
J3  m.  from  the  start,  to  lunch  on  the  same  simple  fare.     Six  m.  on,  at  W  « 
2t,  near  the  Great  Fall's,  the  time  being  4  o'clock,  I  left  the  tow-path  and  tic* 
the  Conduit  road  for  Washington.    Recent  rain  had  made  this  rather  hf  a- 
and  at  5.45  o'clock,  when  1  definitely  stopped  riding,  after  narrowly  ev.i;,,- ;. 
several  falls  in  the  liarkness,  I  had  covered  only  7  m.more.    I  was  u[ij«*f  ■ 
of  l\  h.  in  plodding  over  the  next  9  m.  to  Georgetown  bridge,  thorij;),  •  .. 
road  was  smoothly  macadamized,  and  by  daylight  would  have  Huppl^il  -i-, . 
lent  riding.    This  final  tramp  was  not  so  dismal,  however,  as  llial  M  ■«- 
nights  before,  which  ended  at  Cumberland;  for  lights  of  gome  sort  ■•i-  ,-  1. 
erally  visible,  and  an  occasional  team  would  be  met  with  on  the  i;,--,      1 
soon  as  I  struck  the  gas-lighted  asphalt,  I  was  not  long  in  whirl inK  ».>.-.'    • 
Wormley's  Hotel,  where  a  rather  stupid  clerk  seemei 
ability  to  pay  for  any  accommodation,  even  after  I  h; 
as  the  owner  of  the  baggage  which  had  been  cxpres! 
cut  the  discussion  short  by  planking  down  "  %^  for  a  ( 
and  WIS  shown  to  a  very  plainly  furnished  bed-rooi 
with  my  own  eyes  what  sort  of  thing  "  a  first-class  W 
be  was  more  than  satisfied.     The  next  time  I  shall  a 
not  to  go  to.     My  cyclometer  marked  51  m.  that  day, 


242  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

first  five  days  from  Frederick,  and  142  m.  from  Williamsport,  where  I  first 
began  to  ride  "  along  the  Potomac."  The  next  day  I  felt  very  listless  because 
of  my  long  abstinence  from  decent  food ;  and  so,  instead  of  indulging  in  the 
expected  long  ride  on  the  Washington  asphalt,  I  only  put  in  a  beggarly  23  m. 
before  embarking  on  the  return  train  for  New  York. 

The  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal  extends  along  the  Potomac  on  the  Mary- 
land side,  while  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  runs  along  the  West  Vir- 
ginia side  of  the  river.  The  186  m.  of  tow-path  between  Cumberland  and 
Georgetown  are  divided  into  three  nearly  equal  sections  by  Hancock,  60  m. 
from  one  end,  and  Harper's  Ferry,  60  m.  from  the  other.  Williamsport  and 
Point  of  Rocks  are  the  only  other  places  on  the  entire  path  where  food  and 
lodging  may  be  secured.  The  whole  'region  is  practically  a  wilderness ;  and 
though  the  tourist,  in  case  of  a  break-down,  might  hope  to  turn  to  the  railroad 
for  assistance,  its  tracks  generally  lie  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  its 
stations  are  far  apart,  and  its  trains  are  few.  Between  Williamsport  and 
Harper's  Ferry,  as  I  was  told,  there  is  a  **  slackwater  "  about  5  m.  long,  where 
the  bicycler  would  apparently  be  forced  to  walk ;  but,  with  this  exception, 
and  the  lesser  ones  described  by  me,  it  seems  likely  that  the  riding  is  good  all 
the  way  from  Cumberland  to  Harper's  Ferry.  The  scenery  of  that  120  m.  is 
also  generally  good,  and  some  parts  of  it  quite  fine  and  imposing,  where  the 
river  winds  among  the  mountains.  Below  .  Point  of  Rocks  the  country  is 
mostly  flat  and  uninteresting.  I  have  a  vague  notion  of  trying  the  track 
again  on  returning  from  the  next  League  meet  at  Chicago.  In  that  case  I 
shall  start  from  Cumberland  at  daybreak,  so  as  to  reach  Hancock  by  night- 
fall (shutting  my  eyes  and  holding  my  breath  as  I  whiz  past  the  "  brick  house  ** 
with  bloodthirsty  millions  in  it) ;  proceeding  next  day  to  Williamsport  and 
Martinsburg;  thence  down  the  Shenandoah  Valley  to  Staunton,  over  the 
route  so  appetizingly  described  by  "Bucephale."  The  three  Philadelphia 
wheelmen  who  made  that  trip  seem  to  have  passed  through  Hagerstown  and 
Williamsport  only  a  day  or  two  after  myself.  Would  that  they  had  over- 
taken me  and  invited  me  to  accompany  them  into  Virginia  I  Thus  should  I 
have  escaped  the  sad  experiences  which  I  have  described,  and  the  sad  neces- 
sity of  now  describing  them  for  the  warning  of  my  fellow-tourists.  If  I  take 
the  trip,  my  intention  would  be  to  return  by  way  of  Hagerstown,  Frederick, 
York,  Gettysburg,  and  Reading,  to  Philadelphia,  and  perhaps  thence  wheel  to 
New  York  over  the  roads  whereof  I  have  read  so  many  contradictory  reports. 

The  first  macadam  pavement  in  the  United  States  was  laid  between  Boonsboro'  and  Hagers> 
town ;  and,  in  the  words  of  Eli  Mobley,  an  old  coach-maker  of  the  latter  place,  "  it  made  the 
finest  road  in  America.  I  have  seen  the  mail  coaches  travel  from  Hagerstown  to  Frederidc,  a6 
m.,  in  s  h.  That  was  not  an  unusual  thing  either;  and  there  were  through  freight  wagons  from 
Baltimore  to  Wheeling  wHich  earned  ten  ton  and  made  nearly  as  good  time  as  the  coaches. 
They  were  drawn  by  twelve  horses  and  the  rear  wheels  were  ten  feet  high.**  My  authority  for 
the  quotation  is  W.  H.  Rideing's  interesting  description  of  "The  Old  National  Pike,"  whidi 
fonned  an  illustrated  leading  article  in  Harper's  Magasiiu  (Nov.  1879,  pp.  801-816),  and  which 
deserves  the  attentive  perusal  of  every  prospective  tourist  on  this  main  thoroughfare  over  the 


ALONG  THE  POTOMAC.  243 

Alleghanies.  "  The  national  road  proper,"  he  says,  "  was  built  from  Cumberland  to  Wheeling, 
by  the  United  States  government,  the  intention  being  to  establish  it  as  far  as  St.  Louis.  It  was 
excellently  macadamized,  the  rivers  and  creeks  were  spanned  by  stone  bridges  ;  the  distances 
were  indexed  by  iron  mile-posts,  and  the  toll-houses  supplied  with  strong  iron  gates.  Its  pro- 
jectOT  and  chief  supporter  was  Henry  Qay,  whose  services  in  its  behalf  are  commemorated  by  a 
monument  near  Wheeling.  From  Cimiberland  to  Baltimore,  the  road,  or  a  large  part  of  it,  was 
built  by  certain  banks  of  Maryland,  which  were  rechartered  in  1816  on  condition  that  they 
should  complete  the  work.  So  far  from  being  a  burden  to  them,  it  proved  to  be  a  most  lucrative 
property  for  many  years,  yielding  as  much  as  20  per  cent.,  and  it  is  only  of  late  years  that  it  has 
yielded  no  more  than  a  or  3  per  cent.  The  part  built  by  the  Federal  government  was  transferred 
to  Maryland  some  time  ago,  and  the  tolls  became  a  political  perquisite,  but  within  the  past  year  it 
has  been  acquired  by  the  counties  of  Alleghany  and  Garrett,  which  have  made  it  free.  West  of 
Cumberland,  the  road  partly  follows  the  route  of  General  Braddock,  who  has  left  an  interesting 
old  mile-stone  at  Frostburg.  The  old  iron  ^tes  have  been  despoiled,  but  the  uniform  toll- 
houses, the  splendid  bridges,  and  the  iron  distance-posts  show  how  ample  the  equipment  was. 
The  coaches  ceased  running  in  1853,  when  the  railway  was  completed  to  Wheeling.  Four  years 
before  that,  a  local  pai^er  had  said  :  '  The  passenger  travel  over  the  national  road  during  1849 
was  immense,  and  the  agents*  reports  show  that  from  the  xst  to  the  20th  of  March  the  number 
of  persons  carried  was  2,586.'  There  were  sometimes  sixteen  gayly  painted  coaches  each  way  a 
day, — ^belonging  to  the  rival  lines,  'June  Bug,'  'Good  Intent'  and  'Landlord's', — there  were 
canvas-covered  wagons  drawn  by  six  or  twelve  horses  with  bows  of  bells  over  their  collars,  and 
the  cattle  and  sheep  were  never  out  of  sight.  Within  a  mile  of  the  road  the  country  was  a  wilder- 
ness, but  on  the  highway  the  traffic  was  as  dense  and  as  continuous  as  in  the  main  street  of  a 
lai^e  town.  Some  of  the  passes  were  as  precipitous  as  any  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  the 
mountains  were  as  wild.  West  of  Cumberland  the  road  was  bordered  by  an  extraordinary  growth 
of  pines,  the  branches  of  which  were  so  intermeshed  that  they  admitted  very  little  daylight,  and 
from  its  prevailing  darkness  the  grove  was  called  the  'Shades  of  Death.' 

"As  we  left  Frederick,  in  our  last  summer's  journey,  placid  meadows  were  on  both  sides  of 
us,  the  Blue  Ridge  was  like  a  cloud  in  the  south,  and  ahead  of  us  was  the  famous  highway,  dip- 
ping and  rising  by  many  alternations  towards  a  hazy  line  of  hills  in  the  west,  like  a  thread  of 
white  drawn  through  the  verdant  meadow.  The  chestnuts  made  arches  over  it,  and  divided  its 
borders  with  tulip-poplars  and  the  blossoming  locusts,  which  filled  the  air  with  fragrance.  A 
Roman  highway  buried  under  the  farm  lands  of  England  could  not  be  more  in  contrast  with  the 
activity  of  its  past  than  this.  The  winding  undulations  revealed  no  travelers.  Reaching  the 
crest  of  the  hill  we  saw  the  Middletown  valley  below  us, — as  fair  a  prospect  and  as  fertile  and 
beautiful  a  reach  of  country  as  the  world  contains.  Beyond  Hagerstown  the  road  is  level  and 
aninteresting,  save  for  the  capacious  taverns,  mostly  in  disuse,  the  stables  and  smithies  which 
time  has  left  standing.  One  of  the  old  forges  near  Fairview  was  notably  picturesque.  Late  in 
the  afternoon  we  reached  Qear  Spring,  an  old  fashioned  village  at  the  foot  of  another  range  of 
mountains.  Between  that  point  and  Hancock,  the  road  approaches  in  beauty  the  grandest 
passes  of  the  Sierras.  At  the  beginning  of  the  ascent,  it  is  over-arched  with  oaks,  chestnuts  and 
sugar  maples.  As  the  grade  increases  the  pines  multiply,  and  near  the  summit  the  hardy  ever- 
greens are  almost  alone.  The  view  expands,  and  through  the  tangled  shrubs  and  loftier  foliage, 
between  which  the  road  is,  glimpses  are  revealed  of  pale  green  valleys  and  mountain  walls, 
singularly  even  along  their  crests.  At  the  summit  of  Sidling  Hill  there  is  an  immense  prospect  of 
ridges  beyond  ridges,  visible  along  their  whole  length,  which  look  like  the  vast  waves  of  a  petri- 
fied ocean.  Between  Hancock  and  Cumberland  the  road  is  almost  deserted,  and  there  is  no 
tavern  in  over  40  m." 

The  writer  mentions  that  the  copperheads,  moccasins  and  other  snakes  with  which  the 
mountains  abound  were  run  over  in  great  numbers  by  the  wheels  of  his  carriage,  though  I  myself 
met  with  very  few  of  them  in  my  26  m.  on  the  pike,  and  my  125  m.  on  the  tow-path.  The  exact 
length  of  this  is  186  m.;  and  it  has  proved  not  at  all  a  path  towards  prosperity  for  the  unfortunate 
investors  whose  money  helped  to  build  it.    John  Quincy  Adams,  President  of  the  United  States, 


244  ^^-^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

broke  ground  for  the  CHiesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal,  amid  imposing  ceremonials,  on  the  Fourth  of 
July,  1838 ;  but  it  is  said  never  to  have  had  even  an  approximately  prosperous  year  (unless,  per- 
haps, 1875,  vrhen  A.  P.  Gorman  was  its  president),  and  its  fortunes  have  now  reached  a  very  low 
ebb.  Representing  an  expendittu-e  of  $17,000,000,  it  could  not  be  sold  for  a  tenth  part  of  its 
cost.  Only  about  300  boats  now  operate  upon  it,  and  though  repairs  will  probably  be  kept  up 
sufficiently  to  allow  such  water-traffic  for  some  years  to  come,  the  ultimate  sale  of  the  path,  to 
form  the  road-bed  of  a  railway,  seems  to  o£Eer  the  only  chance  by  which  its  owners  may  get  back 
any  share  of  their  money.  A  few  individual  citizens  of  Cumberland  and  other  American  towns 
hold  stock  in  it,  but  the  chief  partiea-in-interest  are  the  State  of  Maryland,  and  the  unlucky 
British  bondholders,  in  whose  behalf  Daniel  H.  Stewart,  of  England,  now  has  a  suit  pending 
(June  15,  '85)  in  the  United  States  Circuit  Court,  ^t  Baltimore,  praying  for  the  appointment  of 
a  receiver.  The  present  president  of  the  company  is  Col.  L.  V.  Baughman ;  and  among  the 
othar  well-known  men  who  have  officially  served  U  in  past  years  are  ex-Gov.  P.  F.  Thomas, 
Judge  J.  H.  (Gordon,  and  Gen.  J.  C.  Clarke,  now  at  the  head  of  the  Illinois  Central  R.  R. 

These  facts  were  supplied  to  me  by  a  wheelman  of  Cumberland,  who  took  a  looo-m.  tour, 
in  the  summer  of  '83.  beginning  and  ending  on  the  path  of  this  canal.     I  met  him  on  the  same 
path.  May  30,  '84,  and  suggested  the  preparation  of  a  record  of  his  journey  (printed  in  the 
IVheel,  Aug.  i).     My  informant,  W.  W.  Darnell  (b.  March  16,  1854),  rode  a  50-in.  Expert,  and 
was  accompanied,  except  on  the  final  day,  by  A.  E.  Miller,  of  Shepherdstown,  riding  a  48-in. 
Standard  Columbia.     I  am  not  aware  that  any  other  American  bicyclers  have  yet  pushed  their 
wheels  as  far  as  this,  in  one  another's  company.     "  Fine  weather  and  smooth  tow-path  favored 
our  first  day's  ride  of  61  m.  to  Hancock,  July  12.     A  week  later,  we  proceeded  down  the  patli 
to  Williamsport,  and  then  went  to  Hagerstown,  an  afternoon  ride  of  3a  m.  (93).    On  20th, 
through  Funkstown,  and  Martinsburg  to  Darksville,  by  good  pike,  32  m.  (125);  onaist,  to  <\ 
country  house  in  Clarke  county,  46  m.  (171),  good  pike  all  the  way  ;  on  23d,  through  Winchest  *r 
and  Strasburg  to  Woodstock,  46  m.  (217) ;  on  24th,  through  New  Market  to  Luray,  34  m.  (251 ;, 
finishing  just  in  time  to  escape  a  severe  storm;  on  26th,  retraced  our  course  to  Woodstock.. 
34  m.  (285) ;  on  27th,  through  Winchester  and  Berryville  to  Hamilton,  60  m.  (345),  crossing  th<. 
mountains  by  Snicker's  gap,  where  sand  and  loose  stones  made  the  course  very  rough,  thoiv^h 
good  dirt  road  was  found  for  final  10  m.  ;  on  28th,  continued  along  a  fair  dirt  road  to  White '- 
ferry  oi)  the   Potomac,  where  we  took  the  tow-path,  and  found  tolerable  riding  to  Washington 
46  m.,  whose  asphalt  we  tried  for  13  m.  more  (404).     On  August  i,  which  was  the  warmest  da 
of  all,  we  rode  36  m.  to  Baltimore,  by  the  old  post  road  through  Bladensburg,  which  offered 
terrible  depth  of  sand;  and  we  added  only  5  m.  to  our  record  (445)  during  our  four  dn\ 
stay  in  the  city.    On  the  6th,  through  Bel  Air  and  Havre  de  Grace  to  Elkton,  54  m.  (499),  findi* 
the  worst  roads,  with  much  sand,  near  the  finish ;  on  7th  through  Wilmington  and  Chester,  - 
Philadelphia,  57  m.  (556), — crossing  the  ship  canal  to  League  Island,  4  m.  beyond  Chester,  .1 
having  a  splendid  road  thence  to  the  finish.    After  our  five  days'  visit  in  Philadelphia,  v 
record  was  as  follows  :  13th,  by  Lancaster  pike  to  Greenland,  63  m.  (624),  all  but  the  first  if-  • 
being  very  rough,— the  dirt  road  by  way  of  West  Chester  would  have  been  better;  14th,  throu 
Lancaster  and  Marietta  to  Steelton,  35  m.  (659),  fair  dirt  roads ;  15th,  through  Harrisburg  r 
Clarke's  Ferry  to  Mexico,  50  m.  (709),  by  poor  and  hilly  roads,  with  a  delay  of  several  houra  . 
rain ;  i6th,  through  Miffiin  and  Lewiston  to  McVeightown,  27  m.  (736),  in  spite  of  deep  mud.  a 
12  m.  of  the  roughest  road  I  ever  crawled  over  with  a  bicycle  (tow-path  through  the '  Le\«i>  - 
narrows ') ;  17th,  to  Coffee  Run,  40  m.  (776),  by  stony  and  sandy  road  to  Huntington,  andthet 
by  tow-path,  which  was  better  ;  i8th,  to  Trough  Creek  Valley,  6  m.,  and  19th  across  some  stn 
mountains,  9  m.  beyond  (791) ;  20th,  through  Everett  to  Bedford  Springs,  2S 
sandy  except  for  the  last  8  m. ;  22d,  to  Somerset,  in  the  Alleghanies,  40  m.  ( 
much  sand,  with  some  good  bits  of  riding ;  23d,  after  a  hard  forenoon's  rai 
dale,  19  m.  (878)  by  sandy  and  muddy  roads ;  24th,  across  Little  Savage  t 
roads,  badly  washed  by  the  rain,  to  Cumberland,  my  starting  point,  28  1 
weather  of  the  25th,  tempted  me  to  wheel  down  the  tow-path  to  Dam  No.  6 
and  my  report  of  the  ride  appeared  in  Hazlett's  '  Summary '  {Outings  Feb., 


■LX:  Ur  A  B/CVCLE. 

.  ESBaK  I  amntcd  almost  on  the 

-^B  -a:  IridgB  spanning  the  little 

i^sns.    I  wallfcd  up  ibe  long 

-t  -^  my  villi  me  three  years 

-  is  n^  md  ]<x  □/  the  journey. 

IHNTEl  ^  Ac  oAtr  little  patches  of  the 

.  -  ■:;  aid  tboogh  the  frosty  air  of 

s^onst  -^  ina«5e  considerable  surface- 

ttr]«lilii  ^  w*  grow  slipper)'  nor  heavy, 

Bmauv;  r  h.  ■■■t  the  point  of  smoothing 

H  iB  tana  p„^  ,1,^  apper  slope  of  the  hill 

B  tk  tiud  ^'^'^  "**""*  <^'  '  °'^'°<^>'.  5 

ta  polji^h.  -— -    Stamford,  3  m.  on.  was 

ria  tm  tl  "^  '*^''"'*  1^*"="'  S  ">.,  in 

if  the  day,  including  several 

^dratlv  to  be  ridable,  and  it 


terrible  dtpth  of 
Philadelphia,  sr  n 


Clark 

.  Ferry  U. 

6ih,ihrouBl 

<A  the  roughu 

n');,nh,w  Coffee  Ru 

by  to. 

.path,  which  w«  belter 

aiM,9n,.b.)r 

nd(w.); 

Bod, 

e,«pt[™ih. 

much 

UDd,  with  ton 

egocdb. 

dale. 

,  p..  {87a)  by 

landynd 

raad» 

badly  wuhee 

by  the  r 

er  of  Ihe  ijlh 

tempted  11 

andm 

y  repon  of  ih 

WINTER  WHEELING.  249 

>m2  to6p.  M.,of  November  10, and  fromS  A.M.105P.  «.,of  Ihe 
g  the  4:3  m.  from  Bridgeport  to  the  r.  r.  station,  near  Pelham 
Vj^  World,  qI  April  17,  1880,  printed  my  report  of  thia  trip; 
lOumal,  of  Nov.  iz,  1S80,  gave  an  account  of  James  Kevell's 
Vork  lo  Boatun,  showing  that  "  on  November  3d  he  rode  from 
port,  5:J  m.,  over  very  sandy  roads,  starling  at  7  A.  M.,"  and 
ng  about  nightfall.  He  reported  reaching  Stamford  at  x 
as  llie  time  I  passed  through  there;  and  though  he  started 
I  did,  his  starting-point  was  4  m.  below  the  Harlem  boule- 
rted. 

ving  forenoon  I  rode  from  Bridgeport  to  New  Haven,  19  m., 

A  with  a  slight  breeze  at  my  back,  as  well  as  with  bright 

l.cold  air.     Leaving  the  Atlantic  House  at  7.38  A.  M„a  ride 

e  10  the  flagpole  in  Stratford,  4}  m,,  but  it  was  almost  1  h. 

led  the  green  in  Milford,  only  3I  m.  beyond,  though  I  think 

-alking.     Near  Stratford  bridge,  however,  where  the  high 

the  road,  t  was  forced  lo  walk  two  or  three  rods,  in  five 

ater,  carrying  my  wheel  high  above  my  head.     For  2  m. 

to  the  little  brook,  where  stands  the  plank  saying  "7  m. 

■K  riding  continued  fairly  good.    Then  followed  a  straight 

'irough   a  sandy,  deserted,  and  altogether   uninteresting 

the   meanest  section  of  the  entire  tour.    I  was  i  h.  in 

d  I  presume  that  in  the  summer-time  nearly  the  whole 

iVi  be  done  on  foot.     Summit  av,,on  the  hill  which  over- 

^m  the  s.,  was  reached  in  3  h.  from  the  start,  the  distance 


XIX. 

WINTER  WHEELING.' 

Only  in  spring  the  treacherous  fruit  is  green ; 

Only  in  winter  on  our  heads  the  icicle 
Drops,  when  qiiick  thaws  have  wanned  the  air  too  keen ; 
False  is  the  autumn  waters'  treacherous  sheen ; 

Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  O  Bicycle ! 

Pinning  my  faith  to  the  truth  of  this  apostrophe,  which  was  uttered  two 
or  three  years  ago  by  the  polychromatic  Ptuk^  I  bravely  began  my  first  ex- 
periment at  winter  touring  on  the  21st  of  November,  1882.  It  proved  an 
entirely  successful  experiment,  for,  in  the  course  of  four  days,  I  had  pushed 
myself  pleasantly  across  150  m.  of  the  frozen  soil  of  New  York,  Connecticut, 
and  Massachusetts ;  and,  so  far  as  the  roads  and  the  weather  were  concerned, 
I  might  easily  have  doubled  the  distance  in  three  days  more,  by  keeping  right 
on  to  Boston,  and  so  along  the  coast  of  New  Hampshire,  until  I  had  pene- 
trated the  borders  of  Maine.  Could  similar  conditions  again  be  assured  to 
me,  I  would  agree  to  wheel  myself  from  the  Brooklyn  Navy-Yard,  in  New 
York,  to  the  Kittery  Navy-Yard,  in  Maine,  within  the  space  of  six  calendar 
days ;  though  the  accomplishment  of  such  a  feat  in  warmer  weather  would  be 
quite  beyond  my  disposition,  if  not  beyond  my  ability.  In  other  words,  there 
are  certain  distinctive  advantages  connected  with  winter  wheeling  along  a 
frost-bound  and  even  a  snow  covered  track. 

About  a  fortnight  before  the  start,  I  had  devoted  a  day  to  exploring  the 
region  of  Westchester,  Throg's  Neck,  Fort  Schuyler,  and  Pelham  bridge, 
which  latter  point  is  about  \  m.  below  the  Bartow  railroad  station,  where  my 
first  tour  from  New  Haven  to  New  York  had  ended  in  the  rain  and  darkness, 
on  the  nth  of  November,  1879.  All  the  roads  of  this  region  proved  ridable, 
and  some  of  them  supplied  stretches  of  very  smooth  and  pleasant  riding. 
After  following  the  Southern  Boulevard  just  3  m.  from  Harlem  Bridge,  a 
turn  is  made  to  the  r.  into  Westchester  av.,  which  is  followed  a  similar  dis- 
tance to  the  bridge  in  the  village  of  that  name ;  thence  the  road  leads  up  a 
good-sized  hill,  towards  the  s.  e.,  and  within  less  than  i  m.,  at  the  village 
called  Schuylerville,  crosses  the  Eastern  Boulevard.  This  is  not  macadamized, 
but  its  side-paths  are  continuously  ridable,  and  are  to  be  followed  first  to  the 
e.,  thence  to  the  n.,  and  then  somewhat  circuitously  towards  the  n.  e.,  until 
Pelham  bridge  is  reached,  3^  m.  from  Westchester.  There  are  quite  a  num- 
ber of  steep  grades  and  rough  and  soft  stretches  in  the  track  thus  described, 
and  I  made  many  dismounts  in  my  first  exploration  of  it ;  but  when  I  started 

'From  Tht  Whetlman^  May,  1883,  pp.  1x4-119. 


WINTER  WHEEUNG. 


247 


on  my  tour  I  covered  (he  entire  9  m.  in  t}  h.,  reaching  Pelbam  bridge  at  9 
o'clock.  Fifteen  minutes  before  thia,  when  1  was  ij  m.  from  the  bridge,  I 
was  brought  to  my  first  stop,  by  making  wrong  choice  of  a  path  around  * 
ditch,  when  a  right  choice  would  easily  have  led  mc  around  it;  so  that, 
practically,  I  did  the  whole  dialancc  without  dismounl.  I  certainly  could  n't 
have  done  it  thus  without  the  previous  eiploralion,  which  enabled  me  to 
properly  picL  my  path;  and  I  doubt  if  I  could  have  done  it  thus  without  the 
aid  of  the  frost.  This  latter,  indeed,  made  some  parts  of  the  road  so  rough 
that  I  was  surprised  at  the  swiftness  with  which  I  had  succeeded  in  getting 
over  it;  but,  on  the  other  band,  it  stiffened  up  many  soft  and  sandy  spots 
which  in  summer-time  would  almost  inevitably  have  commanded  a  halt. 
Considering  all  Ihc  circumstances  of  the  case,  I  regard  this  first  hour's  stay 
in  the  saddle  as  among  (he  most  cieditable  ones  on  my  record ;  and  during 
no  other  hour  of  this  particular  tour  did  I  encounter  as  many  good  pieces  of 
road,  or  ride  as  many  miles,  or  fail  to  make  several  dismounts. 

Beside  the  bridge  at   Pelham  stands  a   good-looking   road-house  and 
restaurant,  where   (he    traveler    may   refresh   himself,   though    I    did    not 
patronize  it  upon  that  particular  morning;  and  beyond  this  is  a  stretch  of  i\ 
HL  of  very  rough  and  stony  road, — probably  the  roughest  of  my  entire  tour. 
Its  disgraceful  condition  is  the  result  of  a  dispute  among  the  local  (ai-payers. 
I  have  since  been  told,  though,  that  there  is  a  chance  that  macadam  may  be 
applied  within  a  year  or  two.    [Applied  in  April,  1884;  see  p.  73.]    The  road 
for  a  distance  of  3  m.  beyond  this  bad  spot  had  been  treated  to  a  fresh  coat 
of  macadam,  which  extended   I  m.  beyond  (he  town-hall  of  New  Rochelle, 
■here  I  3(opped  at  10  o'clock.    Some  parts  of  this  3  m.  had  been  hammered 
into  smoo(hncss,  and  all  of  it  was  ridable;  and  even  in  accomplishing  (he  two 
previous  miles  I  (00k  no  long  walks,  though  the  stones  and  frozen  ruls  con- 
tinually Ihreatened  a  dismount,  and  it  was  plain  (hat  a  very  little  moisture 
would  suffice  to  create  a  depth  of  mud  prohibitory  for  bicycling.     A(  a  point 
jut  beyond  the  macadam  of  New  Rochelle,  I  began  a  mount,  which,  to  my 
great  surprise,  lasted  nearly  \  h.,  for  the  3  m.  covered  included  a  good  deal  of 
rocky  roadway  and  several  rough  inclines,  which  I  did  not  expect  (o  climb. 
Hy  (top  was  caused  on  the  smooth  dirt  sidewalk,  just  below  the  village  of 
Mainaronecb,  by  the  uneasiness  of  a  milkman's  horse,  who  whisked  one  or 
Iwo  empty  cans  out  upon  the  ground,  in  suddenly  whirling  about,  but  was 
<)aickly  caught  and  quieted.    I  was  riding  very  slowly  when  the  beast 
up  his  ears,  and  I  gave  a  warning  cry  (o  his  owner,  who  s[ood  bel 
•agon,  but  who  failed  to  comprehend  me  in  season  to  seize  him  by  t 
'  a*  he  should  have  done.     A(  the  church  corner  in  Rye  Neck,  3}  m. 
I  was  stopped  again,  by  making  a  wrong  choice  ot  path,  on  a  smoo 
the  time  being  11  o'clock.     So  far  as  natural  obstacles  were  concern 
ever,  I  might  well  have  gone  without  dismount  from   New  Rochelli 
hQI  at  Rye,  where  the  flagpole  stands, — about  7}  m.     Port  Chester,  : 
(her,  was  reached  in  just  4  h.  from  the  start  at  Harlem  Bridge,  2j  m. 


248  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

After  a  brief  halt  for  lunch  at  a  restaurant,  I  mounted  almost  on  the 
stroke  of  noon,  and  rode  i  m.  in  lo  min.,  to  the  bridge  spanning  the  little 
stream  separating  New  York  from  Connecticut.  I  walked  up  the  long 
and  crooked  hill,  down  which  my  wheel  ran  away  with  me  three  years 
before,  and  at  the  top  I  encountered  the  first  snow  and  ice  of  the  journey. 
This  did  not  give  much  trouble,  however,  ncr  did  other  little  patches  of  the 
same  which  were  met  with  at  points  further  on ;  and  though  the  frosty  air  of 
the  early  morning  had  now  moderated  enough  to  cause  considerable  surface- 
mud,  which  spattered  my  jacket,  the  track  did  not  grow  slippery  nor  heavy, 
and  the  relaxation  of  the  frost  hardly  went  beyond  the  point  of  smoothing 
off  the  sharp  edges  of  the  ruts  and  ridges.  From  the  upper  slope  of  the  hill 
s.  of  Greenwich  to  the  lower  slope  of  the  hill  s.  of  Mianus  (at  i  o'clock,  5 
m.  from  Port  Chester),  I  rode  without  a  dismount.  Stamford,  3  m.  on,  was 
reached  in  }  h. ;  and  the  bridge  over  the  brook  beyond  Darien,  5  m.,  in 
another  h.  Here  followed  the  ^sandiest  places  of  the  day,  including  several 
stretches  which  the  frost  had  not  stiffened  sufficiently  to  be  ridable,  and  it 
was  3.30  o'clock  when  I  reached  the  bridge  at  Norwalk, — a  little  less  than 

4  m.  Soon  after  crossing  this  I  take  the  wrong  road,  to  the  1.,  and  go  more 
than  2  m.  before  discovering  my  mistake,  when,  instead  of  retracing  my 
track,  I  resort  to   cross-roads,  and  so   reach  Westport,  with  a  record  of 

5  m.  from  Norwalk,  though  the  distance  by  the  direct  road  is  only  3  m. 
Dusk  was  settling  down  as  I  finished  a  good  long  drink  at  the  town- 
pump,  at  about  4.45  o'clock,  and  I  had  no  later  chance  to  look  at  the  cyclom- 
eter until  7.10,  when  I  reached  the  Sterling  House,  in  Bridgeport,  11  m.  on. 
I  rode  nearly  all  this  distance,  spite  of  the  darkness,  making  many  dis- 
mounts, but  having  no  falls.  At  Faipfield,  however,  where  I  should  have 
stopped  for  the  night  if  I  had  seen  any  hotel,  I  managed  to  go  astray,  and 
so  added  a  detour  of  \  m.  or  more  to  my  record  before  I  got  back  on  to  the 
main  track  again.  The  4  m.  between  this  village  and  Bridgeport  I  remem- 
bered as  being  smooth  and  level  on  the  occasion  of  my  previous  tour ;  and  I 
should  not  otherwise  have  persisted  in  that  final  piece  of  night-riding. 

My  ride  did  not  stop  at  the  first  hotel,  however,  for,  as  I  found  it  too 
crowded  to  supply  me  with  a  suitable  room,  I  proceeded  \  m.  further  on,  to 
the  Atlantic  House,  near  the  r.  r.  station,  and  was  there  satisfactorily  taken 
care  of  for  the  night.  It  was  then  7.30  o'clock,  when  I  reached  the  finish, — 
a  little  less  than  12  h.  from  the  time  of  starting,  and  the  distance  covered  was 
55J  m.  (My  McDonnell  cyclometer,  whose  "  shortage  "  I  had  found  on  pre- 
vious rides  to  vary  from  t^  to  J  the  true  distance,  fairly  outdid  itself  on  this 
occasion  by  registering  only  30  m. !)  On  only  half-a-dozen  occasions  have  I 
ridden  further  in  a  single  day,  and  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  rode  further  in 
12  h.  Considering  the  rough  and  hilly  character  of  much  of  the  road, 
I  look  upon  this  day's  ride  as  one  of  the  most  creditable  I  ever  accomplished. 
There  was  a  good  breeze  at  my  back  during  the  day  and  "  a  ring  round  the 
moon  "  at  night,  though  the  light  of  that  orb  was  not  brilliant.    In  1879  I 


WINTER  WHEELING. 


249 


was  engagedfrom2  to6P.M.,of  November  10, and  fromS  a.  M.to5P.  M.,of  the 
nth,  in  covering  the  <3  m.  from  Bridgeport  to  the  r.  r.  station,  near  Pclham 
bridge.  The  Bi.  World,  ol  April  17,  1880,  printed  my  report  of  this  trip; 
and  the  same  journal,  of  Nov.  12,  iSSo,  gave  an  account  of  James  Kevell's 
ride,  from  New  York  to  Boalun,  showing  that  "  on  November  3d  he  rode  from 
59th  St.  to  Westport,  51 J  m.,  over  very  sandy  roads,  starting  at  7  A.  M,,"  and 
probably  finishing  about  nightfall.  He  repotted  reaching  Stamford  at  2 
o'clock,  which  was  the  time  I  passed  through  there  ;  and  though  he  started 
j  h.  earlier  than  I  did,  his  starting-point  was  4  m.  below  the  Harlem  boule- 
vard, where  Islarted- 

On  the  following  forenoon  I  rode  from  Bridgeport  to  New  Haven,  19  m., 
being  still  favored  with  a  slight  breeze  at  my  back,  as  well  as  with  bright 
sunshine  and  crisp,  cold  air.  Leaving  the  Atlantic  House  at  7.38  A.  M.,a  ride 
of  }  h.  brought  me  lo  the  flagpole  in  Stratford,  4I  m.,  but  it  was  almost  I  h. 
later  when  I  reached  the  green  in  Miltord,  only  3  J  m.  beyond,  though  I  think 
I  did  but  little  walking.  Near  Stratford  bridge,  however,  where  the  high 
tide  had  flooded  the  road,  I  was  forced  to  walk  two  or  three  rods,  in  live 
or  six  inches  of  water,  carrying  my  wheel  high  above  my  head.  For  2  m. 
beyond  Milford,  or  to  the  little  brook,  where  stands  the  plank  saying  "7  m. 
to  New  Haven,"  the  riding  continued  fairly  good.  Then  followed  a  straight 
stretch  of  5  m.,  through  a  sandy,  deserted,  and  altogether  uninteresting 
country, — perhaps  the  meanest  section  of  the  entire  tour.  1  was  I  h.  in 
getting  over  it;  and  I  presume  that  in  the  summer-limc  nearly  the  whole 
distance  would  have  to  be  done  on  foot.  Summit  av.,on  the  hill  which  over- 
looks New  Haven  from  the  $.,  was  reached  in  3  h.  from  the  start,  the  distance 
being  15J  m.  There  I  tarried  long,  admiring  the  dear,  delightful  scenes  of 
Ihe  glad  days  gone  by,  and,  at  last,  crossed  the  Congress  av.  bridge,  and 
speeded  straight  down  the  macadam  to  Church  st.,  and  so  on  to  the  green 
and  city  hall.  Soon  after  this,  having  finished  Ihe  19th  m.,  I  stabled  my 
steed  at  the  house  of  the  friend  with  whom,  by  previous  appointment,  I 
spent  the  aficrntMjn  and  night.  I  may  aay  here  that  the  "  shore  road  "  from 
West  Haven  to  Milford,  which  I  made  trial  of  in  1S79,  was  so  sandy  and 
hilly  for  J  m.  as  to  be  no  more  ridable  than  the  direct  road,  but  was  superior 
to  the  latter  in  that  it  allowed  the  traveler  to  view,  pretty  continuously,  the 
waters  of  the  Sound.     (See  pp.  134,  138,  for  later  reports  from  these  roads.) 

The  neit  day,  November  23,  I  rode  43^  m.  to  Hartford,  between  8.35 
A.  H.  and  5.25  P.  M.  My  course  was  along  Congress  av..  Church  st.,  and  the 
sidewalk  of  Whitney  av.  to  the  hill  3 
without  stop  for  almost  4  m.,  to  Ih 
o'dock-  An  ideally  smooth  track  ol 
the  3-m.  plank,  followed  by  40  rods 
Mount  Carmel,  and  then  another  st 
pissed  the  lo-m.  plank,  and  reachec 
caused  the  third  dismount  of  the  da 


250 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


at  this  point  I  strapped  my  jacket  on  to  the  handle-bar,  and  did  not  assume 
it  again  until  I  finished  the  ride,  after  dark,  though  riders  in  other  sorts  of 
vehicles  acted  as  if  they  were  cold,  in  spite  of  their  heavy  overcoats  and  lap- 
probes  ;  and  the  snow  was  in  sight  all  day  long.  I  did  not  dismount  again 
for  3  m.,  or  until  I  had  ascended  the  long  hill  and  reached  the  store  at 
Cheshire  Academy,  at  11. 10  o'clock.  This  was  14}  m.  from  the  start,  and  I 
think  that,  by  good  luck,  I  might  have  made  it  all  without  a  stop.  Had  I 
been  going  in  the  opposite  direction  it  would  have  been  easier  still  to  do  this, 
for  I  think  none  of  the  inclines  toward  the  s.  were  nearly  as  difficult  as  those 
which  I  managed  to  surmount.  Nothing  but  praise  can  be  given  to  this  val- 
ley road  between  New  Haven  and  Cheshire, — with  an  attractive  mountain 
ridge  at  a  respectable  distance  on  either  side  of  it, — ^and  a  ride  along  it  in 
the  leafy  month  of  June  must  be  very  charming.     (See  later  reports,  p.  135  ) 

Just  beyond  the  Academy  I  turned  1., — instead  of  taking  the  direct  r.-hand 
road,  along  which  I  had  the  misfortune  to  travel  the  previous  July, — ^and 
then,  \  m.  beyond,  turned  r.  and  rode  due  n.  for  about  i  m.,  during  which  I 
passed  the  junction  of  the  road  where  I  mistakenly  turned  off  in  the  summer. 
Beyond  here  I  toiled  along  a  straight,  sandy  road  for  nearly  3  m.,  much  of  it 
afoot,  till  I  reached  the  i8-m.  plank,  and  the  factory  beyond  it.  Mounting 
then,  I  rode  pretty  continuously  for  \  h.,  through  Plantsville  to  Southington, 
where,  at  i  o'clock,  I  stopped  40  min.  for  lunch, — the  distance  being  nearly  3 
m.  ( In  my  July  journey  I  had  not  been  able  to  ride  more  than  a  quarter 
part  of  the  5-m.  sandy  stretch  between  Plantsville  and  Cheshire.)  From 
Southington  I  rode  to  Plainville  and  to  the  cross-roads  on  its  outer  edge,6|  m. 
in  55  m. ;  whence  a  straight  push  of  35  min.  over  the  hills  brought  me  to 
New  Britain,  4}  m.  Here  I  stopped  nearly  \  h.,  and  in  another  )  h.  I  found 
myself. 4  m.  further  on,  at  a'  plank  which  said,  "6  m.  to  Hartford."  Still 
another  \  h.  was  needed  to  get  me  through  2  m.  of  Newington  mud,  and  then, 
at  4.45  o'clock,  at  Elmwood,  I  struck  the  main  road,  with  which  two  previous 
rides  had  made  me  familiar,  but  which  I  had  unwittingly  strayed  from  after 
leaving  New  Britain.  Dusk  was  now  settling  down,  but  in  the  course  of  the 
next  40  min.  I  covered  5  m.,  going  through  New  Britain  av.,  Washington  St., 
and  Capitol  av.,  to  the  office  of  the  Weed  Sewing  Machine  Company,  where 
my  day's  ride  of  43  m.  ended.  The  most  creditable  part  of  it  was  the  4  m. 
of  hills  between  Plainville  and  New  Britain,  every  rod  of  which  I  rode,  spite 
of  snow  and  ice,  and  mud  and  ruts, — my  single  dismount  being  the  result  of 
a  wrong  choice  after  I  had  slowly  scaled  the  most  difficult  grade  of  all.  The 
snow-covered  northwesterly  slopes  of  the  lofty  peaks  near  Meriden,  which  I 
believe  are  called  the  Hanging  Hills,  came  fairly  into  view  soon  after  I  left 
Cheshire,  and  gave  me  my  first  genuine  conviction  that  I  was  really  indulging 
in  a  winter's  tour,  even  though  November  did  still  rule  the  calendar,  and 
even  though  the  white  flannel  shirt  of  midsummer  still  served  of  itself  to 
retain  enough  caloric  for  the  warming  of  my  manly  breast. 

The  fourth  and  final  day  of  my  tour  saw  31  m.  accomplished  during  the 


WINTER  WHEELING.  251 

6  h.  ending  at  5  P.  M»  The  sun  shone  brightly,  and  again  I  rode  in  my  shirt- 
sleeves, with  a  stiff  s.  wind  at  my  back.  The  air  grew  colder  as  the  after- 
noon advanced,  and  there  were  two  or  three  brief  snow-squalls.  Starting 
from  Farmington  av.  I  rode  |  h.  without  stop,  over  some  very  stiff  clay,  and 
accomplished  6  m.  Just  beyond  here  was  the  store  in  Windsor,  whence  I 
rode  without  stop  to  Hayden's,  3  m.  in  25  min.  With  a  little  better  luck  I 
might  have  avoided  any  dismount  between  Hartford  and  Hayden's,  though  I 
could  hardly  expect  to  do  as  well  as  that  in  the  summer-time.  The  next  3-m. 
stretch — ^the  worst  of  the  day — brought  me  to  Windsor  L.ocks,  where  I  stopped 
{  h.  for  lunch,  and  then  gl2ve  an  equal  amount  of  time  to  wheeling  myself  up 
to  the  end  of  the  canal  tow-path,  4^  m.  An  equal  distance  beyond  there 
stands  Porter's  distillery,  in  the  fork  of  the  road,  whereof  the  main  one  on 
the  I.  leads  through  Agawam.  Mounting  here  I  took  the  sandy  river-road  on 
the  r.,  and  managed,  in  spite  of  several  serious  balks,  to  stay  in  the  saddle 
for  I  h.,  when  I  stopped  at  the  post-office  in  Springfield,  4^  m.  on.  Four  m. 
more  of  perfectly  smooth  riding  brought  my  day's  journey  to  a  close ;  and 
the  6  m.  of  smooth  and  level  track  leading  to  Holyoke  was  then  ahead  of  me. 
It  appears,  therefore,  that,  inasmuch  as  I  survived  the  sandy  river-road,  I 
might  readily  have  ridden  without  stop  from  Porter's  distillery  to  the  Hol- 
yoke House,  a  distance  of  almost  1 5  m., — though  I  am  sure  I  could  never  do 
this  when  the  sand  was  not  stiffened  by  frost.  Descriptions  of  the  roads  be- 
tween Springfield  and  Hartford  and  Meriden,  as  I  found  them  in  summer- 
time, may  be  seen  in  the  Bi,  World  of  May  29  and  Nov.  19, 1880,  Aug.  25  and 
Oct.  7,  18S1.  (Compare,  also,  the  reports  presented  on  pp.  122,  128,  149,  179.) 
A  cutting  n.  w.  wind  prevailed  the  next  afternoon,  when  I  made  a  circuit 
of  20  m.  in  the  space  of  3  h. ;  and  the  day  itself  (Nov.  25)  was  notable  as 
being  the  last  of  a  scries  of  eight  successive  sunshiny  ones  wherewith  this 
usually  cloudy  month  made  partial  compensation  for  the  unusually  bad 
weather  of  October.  On  the  following  afternoon,  however,  the  effect  of 
"  the  ring  around  the  moon,"  whose  appearance  on  the  first  night  of  my  tour 
had  made  me  fear  my  sport  would  be  shortened  by  a  storm,  became  apparent 
in  the  shape  of  a  fall  of  snow,  some  five  or  six  inches  deep.  Having  allowed 
a  day  for  this  to  get  trodden  down,  I  started  out  on  the  morning  of  the  28th, 
which  was  very  cold,  and  soon  satisfied  myself  that  bicycling  on  the  snow  was 
a  perfectly  practicable  pastime.  I  spent  some  6  h.  in  the  saddle  that  day, 
and  accomplished  more  than  34  m.,  without  any  sort  of  mishap.  The  next 
morning,  however,  I  had  a  still  more  novel  experience,  for,  to  quote  from  a 
previous  chapter  (p.  30),  "  I  was  warned  at  6  o'clock  that  a  new  snow-storm 
had  just  begun,  and  that  if  I  intended  to  work  of!  the  last  23  m.  needed  to 
complete  the  record  of  6,000, 1  had  best  make  a  prompt  beginning.  I  fuusbed 
my  task  in  Springfield  at  10.30  o'clock,  and  then  sought  breakfast  ^^B"^ 
appetite  well  sharpened  by  a  four-hours'  struggle  through  the 
The  air  was  cold  enough  to  freeze  my  mustache  into  a  solid 
gave  the  snow  no  chance  to  grow  damp  and  slippery.    Tl 


ithe^ 


252  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

clutch  kept  by  me  on  the  handles,  my  wheel,  though  it  had  one  or  two 
dangerous  slips,  never  fell."  My  first  lo  m.  were  accomplished  within  i^  h., 
when  I  made  my  second  dismount  and  first  regular  stop  at  a  point  6  m.  be- 
low the  start;  and  my  last  7  m.  were  made  in  i  h.  10  m.,  by  taking  a  half- 
dozen  continuous  circuits  around  a  certain  number  of  city  blocks. 

I  mounted  not  again  into  the  saddle  for  the  space  of  a  month,  or  till 
Christmas,  when  I  had  the  first  of  six  successive  and  successful  daily  rides 
in  the  same  region,  amounting  in  all  to  175  m.,  divided  as  follows:  8,  18J, 
35i»  36*  3^  ^^^  4^-  I  *^so  rode  25  m.  on  the  2d  of  January,  and  14  m.  on 
the  3d.  Spite  of  ice,  snow,  slush,  mud,  water,  and  frozen  ruts,  neither  I  nor 
my  wheel  had  any  falls,  nor  yet  was  I  forced  to  make  an  unusually  large 
number  of  sudden  dismounts.  In  these  eight  days  I  explored  fully  60  m.  of 
roadway,  and,  if  my  riding  an  old  track  in  a  new  direction  be  classed  as 
"  new,"  my  repetitions  comprised  less  than  half  of  the  214  m.  traversed.  In 
my  summer  trials  of  these  same  paths  I  had  never  been  able  to  cover  any- 
thing like  as  long  distances  without  dismounts,  nor  to  ride  at  as  swift  an 
average  pace,  though  the  watchfulness  required  was  perceptibly  greater  than 
in  summer  riding.  One  course  was  through  West  Springfield  to  the  old 
bridge ;  thence  w.  to  the  bridge  over  the  Agawam ;  thence  n.  and  e.  to  the 
North  bridge  over  the  Connecticut;  thence  s.  through  Springfield  to  the 
South  bridge  over  the  same  river, — 10  m.  of  level  track,  having  some  very 
smooth  sections  and  some  quite  rough  ones,  but  the  whole  of  it  readily 
ridable  without  dismount.  Starting  from  the  South  bridge,  at  a  little  before 
noon  on  the  28th  December,  I  rode  without  stop  for  ij  h.  up  the  long  State- 
St.  hill  and  across  the  wide  sand-plain  to  Indian  Orchard,  a  distancer  of  8  m. 
I  jogged  on  i  J  m.  further,  to  a  point  beyond  Jenksville,  before  turning  about. 
Then,  mounting  at  the  top  of  the  hill  in  Indian  Orchard,  I  rode  3  m.  in  \  h. 
down  a  long  hill  and  up  several  short  ones  covered  deep  with  snow,  until 
finally  stopped  by  a  specially  rough  stretch  of  ice.  As  I  had  been  forced  to 
walk  nearly  all  of  this  3  m.  in  summer,  my  sticking  so  long  in  the  saddle  was 
a  great  surprise  to  me.  I  was  similarly  surprised  the  next  afternoon  when  I 
rode  in  i  h.  over  the  7-m.  track  separating  the  post-offices  of  Westfield  and 
West  Springfield,  and  made  only  two  dismounts.  The  second,  and  only  nec- 
essary one  of  these,  was  at  the  big  hill  in  Tatham  (4^  m.),  though  in  my  sum- 
mer trials  of  those  4  m.  I  was  forced  to  do  much  walking  and  dismounting. 
On  that  same  evening  I  put  in  an  hour's  wheeling  in  the  darkness,  and 
I  repeated  the  experiment  the  next  night, — my  inspiration  on  this  latter 
occasion  being  the  desire  to  bring  up  my  year's  record  to  2,002  m.  The 
second  day  of  the  New  Year  I  celebrated  by  a  pilgrimage  to  the  summit  of 
Mount  Tom  (which  is,  of  all  peaks  and  crags  of  this  planet,  the  particular 
one  which  I  have  the  strongest  personal  affection  for),  though  I  took  my 
wheel  no  further  than  the  half-way  house,  which  stands  at  the  highest  point 
of  the  mountain  roadway.  This,  too,  with  all  its  snow  and  ice,  was  much 
more  ridable  than  in  summer.    My  summer  reports  of  these  roads  in  the 


WINTER  WHEELING. 


253 


region  around  Springfield  may  be  found  in  the  Bi.  Worlds  May  1 5,  May  29, 
June  12,  1880  (pp.  219,  234,  256) ;  Aug.  26,  Oct.  7,  i88i  (pp.  189,  260). 

During  the  twelve  days  which  ended  with  January  4,  1883,  the  weather 
was  continuously  favorable  for  bicycling ;  and  my  belief  is  that,  during  that 
period,  a  tourist  might  have  wheeled  himself  more  comfortably  over  more 
miles,  on  almost  any  section  of  the  main  track  "  between  the  Kittery  Navy- 
Yard,  in  Maine,  and  the  Brooklyn  Navy-Yard,  in  New  York,"  than  he  could 
do  in  an  equal  number  of  hours  at  a  time  of  year  when  the  ground  was  not 
frozen.  The  sun  shone  every  day,  and  the  air  was  clear  and  cold,  but  with  a 
varying  degree  of  intensity.  On  most  of  the  days  there  was  warmth  enough 
to  cause  two  or  three  hours  of  thawing,  so  that  I  usually  encountered 
stretches  of  surface-mud,  slush,  and  water  in  my  afternoon  rides ;  while  in 
the  early  forenoon,  until  traffic  had  worn  off  the  rough  edges  of  the  mud, 
slush,  and  water,  which  had  been  frozen  during  the  night,  the  wheeling  was 
dryer,  but  more  difficult.  If  the  temperature  of  those  twelve  days  had  uni- 
formly remained  just  low  enough  to  prevent  thawing,  the  roads  of  the  whole 
State  of  Massachusetts  would  have  been  in  almost  ideal  trim  for  the  touring 
bicycler.  Of  course,  a  dozen  pleasant  days  in  succession  are  less  likely  to  be 
found  in  the  winter  than  in  the  spring  or  autumn,  and  they  are  very  unlikely 
to  favor  a  region  which  is  at  the  same  time  both  frost-bound  and  free  from  a 
great  depth  of  snow.  Still,  touring  at  any  possible  season  is  liable  to  be 
stopped  by  bad  weather.  We  must  all  take  our  chances  when  we  plan  any 
sport  for  out-of-doors.  And  the  peculiar  delights  which  attach  to  spinning 
silently  across  wide  sweeps  of  territory,  when  Mother  Earth  is  arrayed  in  her 
robes  of  white,  are  assuredly  great  enough  to  make  the  chances  of  a  winter 
bicycle  tour  well  worth  the  taking. 

A  heavy  snow-storm  raged  for  12  h.,  or  more,  on  the  5th  of  January ;  but 
on  the  9th  I  again  mounted  *'  Number  234,"  and  pushed  through  from  West 
Springfield  to  Hartford  in  5I  h., — the  distance  being  32  m.,  more  than  half  of 
which  belonged  to  a  track  never  previously  explored  by  me.  Leaving  my 
beloved  wheel  at  the  manufactory,  for  its  winter  overhauling,  I  ran  to  the  r.  r. 
station  just  in  time  to  jump  on  the  express-train  for  New  York ;  and  I  felt 
properly  proud  of  my  success  in  making  such  a  "  close  connection."  A  bit- 
ter blast  blew  sharply  against  my  back  on  that  final  day  of  my  winter  wheeling, 
and  the  snow  was  deeper  than  that  which  I  had  encountered  on  previous 
days.  Had  I  been  proceeding  northward  in  the  teeth  of  such  a  wind  I  should 
have  required  nearer  10  h.  than  5  h.  for  covering  the  same  distance.  The 
exercise  kept  me  comfortably  warm,  spite  of  the  frozen-up  appearance  pre- 
sented by  other  travelers ;  and  the  rubber-overshoes,  which  enveloped  my 
boots,  served  the  additional  purpose  of  tightening  my  grip  on  the  pedals. 
As  another  great  snow-storm  raged  on  the  following  day,  I  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  knowing  that  I  had  made  the  best  possible  choice  of  time  for  taking 
the  trip.  I  came  all  the  way  down  on  the  e.  side  of  the  river,  starting  at  8.40 
A.  M.|  and  doing  the  first  10  m.  to  Enfield  in  z\  h.    Below  here  I  had  always 


2S4 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


before  taken  the  tow-path,  on  the  w.  side,  and,  usually  indeed,  have  kept  to 
the  w.  side  for  the  whole  journey.  The  next  9  m.,  ending  at  East  Windsor 
Hill  post-office,  comprised  the  poorest  riding  of  all,  and  required  the  climb- 
ing of  one  long  hill  and  the  ploughing  through  of  much  deep  snow.  Thence 
the  riding  was  almost  continuous,  and  was  increasingly  good  until  Hartford 
was  reached ;  and  I  presume  the  track  might  prove  a  ridable  one  even  in 
summer.  (I  have  since  found  it  so,  and  have  learned  of  its  being  traversed 
without  dismount  by  a  very  skilful  rider, — a  rumor  of  whose  exploit  was  al- 
luded to  by  me  on  p.  123.) 

Such  was  my  first  experience  of  winter  wheeling ;  and  the  record  shows 
that,  in  the  sixteen  days  described,  I  covered  nearly  400  m.  of  frozen  ground, 
including  225  m.  of  separate  roadway,  without  mishap.  The  case  is,  per- 
haps, unusual  enough  to  deserve  thus  detailing  minutely,  and  the  minute 
details  that  I  have  given  must  certainly  satisfy  the  most  sceptical  that  the 
man  on  the  bicycle  resembles  Death  on  the  pale  horse  in  at  least  this  respect : 
he  has  all  seasons  for  his  own. 


"Bradley's  Driving  and  Wheeling  Chart  of  Springfield  and  Vicinity  "  (20  by  18  in.,  i  nu  to 
I  in. J  Aug.  '85,  mailed  for  asc.  by  the  Milton  Bradley  Co.)  exhibits  all  the  roads  within  a  10  m. 
radius  of  Court  Square,  classified  by  lines  of  three  thicknesses.  "  The  heaviest  indicate  main 
roads  which  connect  points  of  importance  and  are  suitable  for  any  kind  of  travel ;  the  thinner 
lines,  roads  which  are  rather  rough  or  hilly,  though  regularly  kept  open  by  town  or  county 
authority ;  the  finest  lines,  wood  roads  or  tracks  which  are  passable  and  usually  fairly  comfort- 
able for  single  carriages,  though  liable  at  times  to  be  closed  by  private  owners.  Roads  good  for 
the  bicycle  are  indicated  by  lines  of  dashes,  parallel  to  the  regular  road-lines ;  and  the  less  excel- 
lent roads,  which  will  oblige  wheelmen  to  take  frequent  walks,  by  lines  of  dashes  and  dots.  The 
first  nine  letters  of  the  alphabet  are  used  to  show  the  prominent  avenues  of  departure,  at  the 
points  where  they  leave  the  more  densely-settled  part  of  the  city ;  while  the  numerals  from  i  to 
58  are  used  to  show  the  most  important  junctions  of  roads  throughout  the  country.  Thus  many 
pleasant  drives  can  be  briefly  designated  in  the  list  of  two  dozen  routes  which  are  printed  on 
the  third  page  of  cover,—*,  g.  '  E.  Longmeadow,  Shakers,  Longmeadow,  18  m.  A-23-38-39- 
27-J.'  The  mention  of  approximate  mileage  of  each  drive  allows  a  selection  to  be  made  corrv:- 
sponding  with  the  time  at  command ;  and  the  indicated  trips  may  be  combined  or  shortened  at 
pleasure  by  the  use  of  cross-roads."  The  map  b  on  the  best  linen  paper,  enclosed  in  a  durable 
card-board  cover,  from  whose  letterpress  my  quotations  have  been  made ;  and  I  heartily  recom- 
mend it  as  a  pocket  companion  for  eveiy  wheelman  whom  a  perusal  of  my  tenth  chapter  tempts 
to  explore  "the  environs  of  Springfield."  Mr.  Bradley  writes  to  me  thus:  "This  unique 
manner  of  putting  the  map  into  its  cover  (it  seems  so  original  that  I  contemplate  a  patent  on  it) 
was  adopted  to  suit  the  wheelmen.  You  will  observe  that  the  peculiar  mounting,  along  the 
middle,  aUows  the  map  to  be  opened  like  the  leaves  of  a  book,  and  managed  with  one  hand.  In 
the  central  fold,  you  have  a  radius  of  say  3  m.  from  Court  Square,  with  «.  and  w.  prolongations 
on  the  side  folds.  In  a  trip  n.  or  s.,  when  you  reach  the  top  or  bottom  point,  just  turn  the  cover 
upside  down,  and  you  can  go  right  on  to  the  limits  of  the  n.  or  s.  fold.  (Before  starting,  of  course, 
the  back  fold  is  to  be  adjusted  to  the  n.  or  s.  trip.)  This  is  a  great  advantage  over  an  ordinary 
map,  which  can  only  be  examined  when  opened  broadside,  and  the  folding  of  which  back  into  its 
covers  is  very  difficuU,  in  case  of  a  wind.  I  began  the  chart  merely  for  use  in  my  own  drives  ; 
but,  becoming  interested  in  the  idea  of  opening  up  the  pleasant  places  of  the  r^on  to  others,  I 
decided  to  publish  it.  Members  of  the  Springfield  Bicycle  Club  then  took  kindly  to  the  scheme, 
and  the  indicated  routes  for  wheelmen  are  the  result  of  their  explorations.  Errors  of  omissioa 
in  this  respect  wiU  be  remedied  if  a  new  edition  is  called  for  next  year." 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.' 

"To  curve  on  the  outer  edge"  ia  said  to  be  usually  among  the  first  of  the 
noble  ambitions  which  fire  the  soul  of  the  tyro  at  the  wheel.    I  cannot  re- 
member that  my  own  spirit  was  ever  thrilled  by  »ny  Such  vain  longing,  and  I 
certainly  have  no  desire  in  these  later  days  to  undertake  any  difficult  or  showy 
[eats  while  in  the  saddle  ;  but  when  the  challenge  came  to  me,  that  t  attempt 
the  outer  curveon  the  very  easternmost  edge  of  these  United  Stales,  —  that 
I  try  driving  my  bicycle  alang  the  brink  of  the  historic  "  jumpingofl  place  " 
of  our  national  domain,  without  letting  the  same  topple  over  into  the  dread- 
ful depths  beyond, — my  pride  was  so  strongly  »ppealed  lo  that  I  felt  power- 
less to  say.  No.     I  had  previously  pushed  the  wheel,  in  solitary  state,  over 
about  3,000  m.  of  American  roadway,  and  had  ridden  twice  that  distance  alto- 
gether.   On  a  few  rare  occasions,  other  riders  had  been  with  me  for  brief 
periods ;  but  I  had  become  entirely  convinced  (hat  bicycle  touring  was,  for  a 
man  of  my  quiet  tastes,  plcasantest  and  most  practicable  when  practiced  alone. 
The  distinctive  charm  of  the  thing  is  its  freedom, — the  chance  it  gives  a  man, 
who  has  "  hitched  the  wings  10  hia  feet,"  to  do  exactly  as  he  pleases  ;  to  fly 
(wiftly  or  to  fly  slowly,  to  cover  many  miles  continuously  or  lo  make  many 
slops  by  the  wayside,  just  as  his  own  unttammeled  fancv  may  dictate, — and 
this  freedom  is  of  course  impaired  by  the  presence  of  even  a  single  com- 
panion, since  Ais  whims  and  freaks  and  desires  cannot  be  presumed  to  be 
identical  with  one's  own  far  as  much  as  the  space  of  a  day.     I  do  not  pretend 
to  deny  that,  if  one  of  my  intimate  friends  were  proved  by  long  experience  to 
be  possessed  of  ibout  the  same  riding  capacity  as  myself — to  enjoy  wheeling 
the  same  number  of  miles  aday  which  I  do,  and  at  about  the  same  average  rate 
of  speed— I   might   have   more   pleasure   in   making    a  week's   tour  with 
him  than  I  could  have  in  mal 
might  more  thui  offset  Ihe  I 
■ould  be  some  such  loss,  ar 
Mdal  experience,  it  would  ne 
cycling.    To  ride  faster  than  < 
man;  to  ride  slower  than  you 
to  start  and  to  stop,  to  eat  an 
his  impulse  or  convenience  rai 
ipoil  the  supreme  sense  of  111 

'The  lut  part  of  tlitt  ii  {nm  7^ 


256  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

wheelman  when  he  cuts  loose  from  care  and  conventional  obligations  and 
glides  joyously  away  towards  fresh  fields  and  pastures  new. 

In  consenting,  therefore,  to  be  one  of  a  large  party  that  was  organizing 
for  a  week's  exploration  of  the  roads  of  "  Way  Down  East,"  I  entertained  no 
illusions  as  to  the  prospect  ahead  of  me.  I  anticipated  that  the  riding  itself 
would  be  slower  and  more  tiresome  and  less  interesting  than  if  engaged  in 
alone.  But  the  novelty  of  taking  a  tour  with  so  many  other  men  was  a  thing 
which  seemed  sufficiently  pleasant  to  be  worth  making  some  sacrifice  for ;  and 
the  chance  of  realizing  in  practice  my  theoretical  conviction  that  the  best  bi- 
cycling must  be  indulged  in  solitarily,  made  an  irresistible  appeal  to  me. 
Thus,  I  went  into  the  enterprise  with  much  the  same  spirit  as  that  which 
possessed  a  young  Yale  graduate  of  my  acquaintance  when  he  went  into  the 
Senior  Class  of  Harvard,  and  studied  a  year  for  its  degree,  "just  to  see  for 
himself  what  the  blamed  thing  amounted  to,  anyhow."  He  expected  alwairs 
to  dislike  Harvard,  with  the  enthusiasm  proper  to  a  loyal  son  of  Yale,  but  he 
wanted  to  have  it  in  his  p>ower  to  intelligently  defy  all  Harvard  men  who 
might  venture  to  say  that  his  prejudice  was  an  ignorant  one  t  I,  too,  in  simi- 
lar fashion,  was  glad  to  do  some  touring  with  a  crowd,  in  order  that  no  one 
might  any  longer  be  able  to  pretend  that  my  preference  for  solitary  touring 
resulted  from  lack  of  personal  experience ;  but  I  think  I  enjoyed  the  excur- 
sion quite  as  well  as  any  of  my  fellow-tourists,  and  a  good  deal  better  than 
some  of  them.  My  extensive  acquaintance  with  the  general  perils  and  mis- 
haps which  overhang  every  prolonged  scheme  of  out-door  pleasuring,  and  my 
firm  conviction  of  the  special  discomforts  which  must  result  from  attaching  a 
crowd  to  any  such  scheme,  caused  me  to  discount  at  the  start  all  possible 
troubles.  I  was  well  prepared  from  the  very  outset  to  take  a  philosophic  and 
humorous  view  of  the  case,  whatever  might  befall.  The  delays  and  disap- 
pointments and  mischances  which  embittered  and  exasperated  the  others  (as 
much,  apparently,  as  if  the  fogs  and  rains  and  blistering  sunshine  were  abso- 
lutely novel  freaks  of  nature,  unaccountably  devised  for  their  especial  punish- 
ment) ^  an  old  campaigner  "  like  myself  could  afford  to  accept  with  a  smiling 
face  and  an  equal  mind.  I  feel  sorry  for  the  man  who  has  no  capacity  for 
being  amused  at  contemplating  the  supremely  effective  way  in  which  a  given 
bit  of  bad  weather  has  suppressed  his  own  most  elaborate  and  cherished 
schemes  for  out-door  amusement  1  That  alternative  chance  for  enjoyment  is 
by  me  always  held  in  reserve,  as  an  essential  part  of  the  game  I  There  was 
something  very  ludicrous,  therefore,  about  the  doleful  faces  of  my  fellow- 
sufferers,  as  they  peered  into  mine  through  the  fog,  day  after  day,  and  petu- 
lantly "  wondered  if  there  would  ever  be  an  end  to  it."  And,  when  the  end 
pf  it  came,  there  was  something  still  more  ludicrous  about  the  dismal  vigor 
with  which  they  mopped  the  sweat  from  their  brows,  and  cried  aloud  for  the 
return  of  the  fog,  that  it  might  mercifully  ward  off  the  blazing  rays  of  the  sun ! 
At  the  last,  however,  "  all  ended  happily  ";  and  I  think  that  all,  or  nearly  all, 
the  tourists  returned  to  their  homes  in  the  happy  belief  that  they  had  "  had  a 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS. 


2S7 


i;ood  time  anyhow,"  spite  of  the  Eags  and  spile  of  their  (allure  Co  indulge  in 
iiiany  miles  of  bicycling. 

The  tour  was  planned  and  cairicdlbroughbyoneof  the  younger  proprietors 
of  the  Fifriiand  Transcript,  whose  patriotic  desire  to  remove  tbe  prevalent  im- 
pression that  "there  are  no  good  roads  in  Maine"  led  him  to  prepare  an 
article  for  the  Whtelman  (February,  1883),  "sketching  a  route  in  the  eilrerae 
eastern  part  of  the  Pine  Tree  Stale,  embracing  excellent  roads,  grand 
scenery,  good  hotels,  and  a  climate  that,  during  the  summer  months,  cannot 
be  surpassed  for  its  delightful  coolness.  What  more  can  be  desired?" 
aaked  he.  "  Will  not  those  wheelmen  who  would  like  to  organiie  a  summer 
party  (o  open  up  this  region,  as  yet  unexplored  by  bicycles,  correspond  with 
me  and  agree  upon  a  date  and  other  details  ?  Come  East  \  good  friends ;  come 
Hast  I "  The  responses  to  this  appeal  were  soon  numerous  enough  to  show 
that  a  party  could  be  formed;  and  a  six  days'  route  was  therefore  planned 
inr  it,  beginning  at  Easlporl  on  Tuesday  morning,  June  19,  and  ending  al 
Iklachlasport  on  Sunday  evening.  Between  those  objective  points  and  Port- 
land the  patty  were  to  be  carried  by  steamer,  so  thai  the  entire  excursion  was 
to  occupy  exactly  a  week,  beginning  and  ending  on  a  Monday  evening.  A 
{ormal  circular  was  issued  on  the  loth  of  April,  announcing  these  facts, 
giving  full  details  of  each  day's  riding,  and  naming  g20  and  $25  as  the  possi. 
hie  limits  of  expense  ;  and,  at  the  conclusion  of  negotiations  with  the  sCeam- 
nhip  agents  and  tocat  hotel-keepers,  3,  second  circular  definitely  informed 
each  participant  that  he  would  be  expected,  on  starting  from  Portland,  to  pay 
Jij  to  the  treasurer  of  the  expedition,  which  sum  would  cover  all  expenses 
until  tbe  return  to  that  city,  a  week  later.  A  final  assessment  of  (j  each, 
however,  had  to  be  made  to  satisfy  the  extra  costs  of  the  rains  and  fogs,  for 
ihesc  compelled  the  whole  party  Co  be  dragged  a  doien  miles  by  horse-power 
on  the  first  day,  to  ride  twice  that  distance  in  a  steam-tug  on  the  second  dav 
and  again  on  the  third,  and  to  solace  themselves  by  music  and  dancing  during 
the  iniermedlate  night. 

There  were  Ihiny-six  men  in  the  cavalcade  which  astonished  the  natives 
of  EastpoTt,  that  cloudy  Tuesday  morning,  and  silently  sped  along  the  main 
Hreel  and  un  the  hill  and  so  cut  into  the  countrv.  beyond  the  gaie  of  the 
t  and  filled  the  windows 
he-  organizer  and  com- 
inlor  of  many  ingenious 
role  of  an  amateur  pho. 
ative,  in  the  person  of  a 
of  an  ex-Governor,  and 
le  one  of  the  tallest,  and 
Hampshire  sent  a  pair 
machines  (the  "  Star  "' 
ce  of  45  m.  from  home, 
e  forenoon  of  the  start. 


258  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BIC. 

Nova  Scotia  also  hid  two  representatives,  who  joined  the  jp  •  osn. 

while  Wisconsin,  Connecticut,  New  York  and  Pennsylvania  _  va 

the  latter  being  a  Philadelphia  lawyer  and  the  heaviest  rider 

was  the  only  New  YorkerA   The  remaining  twenty-four  wl 

men,  residing  within  a  radius  of  40  m.  from  Bostdh,  and  a  li./ 

residing  in  that  city.    Among  these  men  from  the  Hub  was  t^ 

of  the  Wheelman^  a  graduate  the  previous  summer  from  an  ' ' 

whose  report  in  that  magazine  (Jan.  and  Feb.,  1884,  pp.  2y 

may  be  considered  the  "official  history'*  of  the  expedition 

special  artist — an  Englishman  of  twice  his  age — whose  spirite<^ 

enliven  the  aforesaid  history.    The  artist  rode  in  a  carriage,  wb* 

kept  in  the  wake  of  the  rear-guard ;  for,  though  a  good  comrade  ^ 

cession  was  not  in  motion,  he  was  not  a  bicycler  except  in  syn*. 

character  of  representative  Bostonian,  however,  should  probably  ' 

to  the  President  of  the  Massachusetts  Bicycle  Club,  a  middle-:- 

who  took  to  the  wheel  quite  disconsolately  in  1880,  as  a  rather  rt 

tector  against  slowly-declining  health,  "  when  physicians  were  in  > 

who  distinguished  higiself  on  the  28th  of  September,  1882,  by 

m.,  between  4.52  A.  M.  and  10.30  P.  M., — a  period  whereof  12  h.  41 

si>ent  in  the  saddle  and  the  other  5  h.  in  resting, — ^the  final  20  m.  i>. . 

in  the  dark  and  10  of  them  in  a  rain-storm.    The  **  champion  " 

our  party,  however,  was  a  sturdily-built  Worcester  man,  only  a  liu.. 

majority,  who  in  November,  1882,  took  a  ride  of  179  m.,  beginning  .. 

at  South  Framingham  at  5  P.  M. ;  and  who  also  took  another  i.i.. 

across  the  country  from  Worcester  to  Boston  without  leaving  . 

though  the  distance  considerably  exceeded  40  m.,  and  the  first  \ 

course  was  by  no  means  a  level  or  smooth  one.    (See  p.  iii.)     1 

1883,  a  road-race  of  100  m.,  in  the  region  around  Boston,  was  won 

9}  h. ;  and  a  track-race  of  100  m.,  in  a  park  at  Washington,  in  les^ 

We  also  boasted  of  a  Methodist  clergyman  who  had  recently  ri('. 

in  5^  h.,  in  making  a  round  trip  between  his  home  and  Boston,  and 

previous  occasion  had  done  80  m.  in  a  day.     Our  party,  furthenu 

prised  two  or  three  editors  or  newspaper-men,  a  physician,   a  m. 

engineer,  a  manufacturing  jeweler,  a  hotel-keeper,  a  shoemaker,  a  ; 

agent  for  gravestones,  a  bank-teller,  a  private  secretary,  a  book-kci. , 

tradesmen,  salesmen  and  clerks  of  various  sorts.     As  regards  age, 

three  had  passed  their  majority,  and  those  were  in  their  twenties 

fifteen    had   entered    their  third  decade,  and  the   average    of    tin. 

party  exceeded  29  years.     Our  oldest  member,  who  was  in  his  42d  vl 

also  our  lightest  one,  weighing  but  1 1 5  lbs.,  while  our  heaviest  man 

the  scales  at  182  lbs.    A  dozen  of  the  party  were  married,  and  thei 

eight  who  used  eye-glasses,  though  only  half  that  number  wore  their 

cles  continuously  while  riding.    The  "average  diameter**  of  the  whet 

53  in.,-*the   largest  actual  diameter  being  58  and  the  smallest  beh.^ 


'"  forenoon's  ridrwhich 

•""pen  hJJl^iimbers.     No 

'  'lamed,  ihan  the  photog- 

'■''i  his  purpose;  but  the 

"f  coming  rain  made  a 

"ier-(ime,  and  they  had 

■-■  dinner  table.   Vanity 

■ir    saddles;  and  the 

■'ty  to    that  particular 

"ed     all  pretense  of 

!l-i-b    to  the  capacity 

<  -  o  rribined  with  the 

'     1  >  rogress  became 

-   "■■%-ift  dashes  when 

r^piirts  Ihat  the 

■  1  to  be  the  last 

■  <-,g  on  a  level 

. I. Hong  lo  the 

-  injuries  did 


i6o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

barked  at  Poitland  in  apparent  health  and  vigor  having  suddenly  expired 
when  she  reached  her  state-room.  We  were  quite  quiet  after  that,  and  soon 
took  to  our  beds. 

Eastport,  the  extreme  eastern  port  of  the  United  States,  stands  on  an 
island  perhaps  5  m.  long,  connected  by  a  short  bridge  with  the  mainland  of 
Maine,  and  lying  opposite  the  much  larger  island  of  Campobelto,  which 
belongs  to  New  Brunswick.  When  we  disembarked  there,  al  a.  little  after  8 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  June  19,  there  was  no  need  that  our  pair 
of  rival  buglers  should  announce  the  fact  by  "calling  the  assembly"  in 
clarion  blasts.  The  fact  of  the  tour  had  been  announced  and  reiterated  for 
several  weeks  preceding  by  all  the  local  papers  of  that  part  of  the  State,  and 
the  inhabitants  of  the  whole  region  round  about  had  at  that  earty  hour 
flocked  into  the  town  to  do  us  reverence.  They  were  very  good-natured  and 
deferential  and  anxious  to  please  this  miraculously-mounted  body  of  invaders, 
at  the  same  lime  that  they  gratified  their  curiosity  concerning  them  i  and 
their  only  regret  seemed  10  attach  to  the  necessarily  transitory  nature  of  the 
exhibition,  which,  as  one  of  them  said,  "  was  ten  times  more  fun  than  any 
circus  that  ever  came  to  Eastport."  Not  a  few  prolonged  their  enjoyment  of 
the  novel  spectacle  by  following  the  procession  in  carriages  for  quite  a  dis- 
tance out  of  the  village.  Three  and  a  half  miles  out,  at  10  o'clock,  \  h.  from 
the  start,  the  first  halt  was  sounded,  on  a  hill-top,  and  the  photographer 
took  his  "  lirst  shot"  at  the  intelligent  visages  of  his  fellow-cyclers.  His 
seemingly  undue  hasle,  in  thus  beginning  field-practice  with  the  amateur 
camera,  proved  in  fact  to  be  a  consummate  display  of  foresight, — a  wise  dis- 
counting of  the  probable  pitfalls  ahead, — for  this  was  really  the  latest  possible 
period  of -the  tour  at  which  the  entire  party  could  offer  for  phott^raphic  pet' 
petualion  a  set  of  faces  which  were  unscarred. 

The  ascent  to  the  hill  had  been  gradual,  but  the  descent  was  more  abrupt 
(so  steep  it  seemed  to  me,  indeed,  in  riding  down,  that  when,  two  days  later, 
on  the  return  trip,  I  found  I  had  ridden  to  the  top  of  it,  I  almost  doubled  its 
identity),  and  at  the  foot  of  the  Nil]  was  a  little  "  corduroy  bridge,"  or  water- 
course rudely  made  of  logs,  the  sides  of  which  were  not  well  banked  with 
earth.     1   remember  that  I  sat  well  ba^k  and  tnnk  a  ir^m^ndmn  inli  a.   I 
bounded  across  it ;  so  I  was  not  surpris 
a  halt  and  the  word  pass  along  10  thi 
proved  lo  be  one  of  the  oldest  of  our  n 
careful  rider,  who  had  been  fated  thus  t( 
bar  and  plunge  his  head  against  the  "st 
His  nose  showed  the  worst  effects  of  lh( 
pretty  thoroughly  "skinned";  but,  as  n 
to  abandon  the  tour,  though  for  the  m 
ride  with  a  handkerchief  about  his  face 
not  shed  the  last  scraps  of  courtplasti 
bier,  when  he  wheeled  homeward  (o  t' 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS,  261 

accident  caused  a  half-hour's  delay  ;  and,  at  a  hill-top  about  4  m.  further  on, 
soon  after  passing  the  village  of  Perry,  there  was  another  long  stoppage,  in 
order  that  the  straggling  rear-guard  might  have  a  chance  to  "  catch  up." 
There  was  a  short  slope  on  this  hill,  which  no  one  was  quite  able  to  conquer, 
but  I  believe  there  was  no  other  grade  of  the  whole  forenoon's  ride*  which 
was  not  mounted  by  one  or  another  of  our  more  expert  hill-climbers.  No 
sooner  had  the  rear-guard  reached  the  summit  just  named,  than  the  photog- 
rapher made  signs  of  again  attempting  to  accomplish  his  purpose ;  but  the 
crowd  cried  him  to  shame.  They  said  that  the  signs  of  coming  rain  made  a 
more  forcible  appeal  to  th^m.  It  was  now  almost  dinner-time,  and  they  had 
conquered  hardly  more  thin  half  the  road  leading  to  the  dinner  table.  Vanity 
had  already  yielded  to  hunger ;  the  men  slid  into  their  saddles ;  and  the 
chance  of  their  presence  giving  photographic  immortality  to  that  particular 
landscape,  disappeared  forever.  Here,  too,  was  abandoned  all  pretense  of 
keeping  up  a  continuous  line,  by  handicapping  the  fast  riders  to  the  capacity 
of  the  slow  ones;  and,  as  occasional  scattering  rain-drops  combined  with  the 
smell  of  dinner  to  make  a  rather  effective  spur,  the  general  progress  became 
more  rapid  and  some  of  the  separated  groups  indulged  in  swift  dashes  when 
invited  by  smooth  pieces  of  road.  It  was  in  one  of  these  spurts  that  the 
second  serious  accident  of  the  day  took  place,  and  it  proved  to  be  the  last 
one  of  the  tour.  An  expert  rider  of  Boston,  speeding  along  on  a  level 
stretch,  took  no  note  of  a  "  corduroy  bridge  "  until  flung  headlong  to  the 
ground,  with  lacerated  wrists  and  forehead  and  lower-jaw.  His  injuries  did 
not  prove  serious,  and  the  visible  signs  of  them  wore  off  in  the  course  of  a 
week ;  but  he  was  one  of  the  six  who  withdrew  from  the  tour  three  days 
later,  out  of  despair  over  the  continuous  fogs.  There  were  probably  as  many 
as  half  a  dozen  other  tumbles  in  the  course  of  the  forenoon's  ride,  but  none 
of  them  important  enough  to  draw  blood  or  cause  delay ;  and  I  myself  had 
two  narrow  escapes  from  overthrow  by  the  rising  up  of  my  rear  wheel  on 
down-grades.  The  Brewer  House  in  Robbinston,  17  m.  from  the  start,  was 
reached  by  me  at  10  min.  past  i  o'clock,  and  I  was  about  midway  between 
the  first  arrivals  and  the  last,  which  covered  a  period  of  i  h.  The  two 
wounded  men  came  in  among  the  last,  but  they  both  rode  their  wheels  to 
the  end.  So  the  baggage-wagon  which  brought  up  the  rear  was  not  made  to 
do  ambulance-duty  on  their  behalf,  though  I  believe  that  one  tired  straggler 
resorted  to  it  during  the  last  mile  or  so  of  the  trip. 

An  admirable  dinner  was  ready  and  waiting  when  we  arrived  at  Robbins- 
ton; but  before  sitting  down  to  it  we  quenched  our  thirst  with  innumerable 
goblets  of  milk  and  gave  thanks  for  the  forethought  of  the  organizer  of  the 
expedition  in  specifically  contracting  with  the  landlord  that  this  preliminary 
refreshment,  as  well  as  a  plentiful  supply  of  water,  wash-bowls  and  towels, 
should  be  instantly  accessible  on  our  arrival.  The  rain-drops  had  lost  their 
fitful  and  intermittent  character  by  the  time  the  latest  wheel  had  reached  the 
shelter  of  the  tent  on  the  lawn  ;  and  during  our  stay  at  the  dinner-table  they 


262         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

assumed  the  phase  of  a  heavy  shower  which  promised  to  continue  indefinitely. 
As  the  excellent  little  inn  had  no  facilities  for  lodging  so  large  a  party,  and 
as  arrangements  had  been  made  for  spending  the  night  at  the  American 
House,  in  the  city  of  Calais,  12  m.  beyond,  negotiations  were  opened  by  tele- 
phone with  the  landlord  thereof  which  ultimately  resulted  in  his  sending 
down  two  or  three  large  covered  "  barges,"  about  nightfall,  and  hauling  the 
tourists  thither  by  horse-power.  The  committee  conducting  these  negotia- 
tions first  sought  for  horses  and  wagons  in  Robbinston,  and  learned,  when 
just  too  late,  that  the  party  might  readily  have  gone  thence  to  Calais  by  the 
afternoon  steamboat,  if  they  had  bestirred  themselves  immediately  after  din- 
ner. The  forenoon  had  been  quite  cool,  but  though  I  soon  threw  off  my 
jacket,  the  perspiration  caused  by  the  vigorous  exercise  had  been  sufficient  to 
dampen  my  riding-shirt  and  soak  my  underclothing ;  and  the  prospect  of  being 
slowly  dragged  by  night  through  a  chilly  rainstorm  over  a  dozen  miles  of 
muddy  highway,  with  two  thicknesses  of  wet  flannel  clinging  to  my  person, 
did  not  appeal  to  me  as  exhilarating.  As  a  choice  of  evils,  I  decided  to  at- 
tempt wheeling  myself  to  Calais,  through  the  mud  and  rain.  I  could  at  all 
events  continue  to  keep  warm  in  that  way,  and  the  drenching  of  my  outer 
garments  could  not  possibly  make  me  wetter  or  more  uncomfortable.  Any- 
thing seemed  better  than  an  afternoon  of  listless  inactivity  and  uncertain  wait- 
ing ;  and,  in  case  the  mud  proved  too  much  for  me,  I  could  come  back  again, 
or  wait  at  some  farm-house  for  the  arrival  of  the  "  barge." 

Having  worked  myself  up  to  this  decision,  I  wasted  further  time  in  trying 
to  persuade  some  of  the  other  tourists  to  accompany  me ;  but  none  of  the 
half-dozen  or  more  who  were  on  general  principles  disposed  to  do  so,  hap- 
pened to  have  an  extra  riding-suit  among  his  baggage,  and  none  therefore 
cared  to  court  the  necessity  of  lying  abed  in  Calais  during  the  time  requisite 
for  drying  his  damaged  suit  into  usable  condition  again.  So  alone  I  started 
northward,  through  the  mud,  at  4.10  P.  M.,  with  a  driving  rainstorm  at  my 
back.  Helped  thus  by  the  wind,  I  completed  6  m.  at  the  end  of  the  first  h., 
and  reached  the  hotel  in  Calais  at  20  min.  past  6  o'clock.  Within  five  min- 
utes afterwards,  or  as  soon  as  I  had  washed  the  abundant  mud  from  my  boots 
and  wheel,  by  a  liberal  application  of  the  hose,  the  baggage-wagon  arrived, 
and  I  was  enabled  to  at  once  assume  dry  clothes,  partake  quietly  of  supper 
and  get  the  nickel  of  my  bicycle  dried  and  polished  to  an  ideal  condition  of 
splendor,  before  the  arrival  of  the  first  barge  from  Robbinston,  with  its  noisy 
but  rather  jovial  troop  of  tourists,  who  hastened  to  congratulate  me  on  my 
angelic  appearance  in  a  clean  suit  of  white,  and  then  hurfied  hungrily,  to  the 
supper  room.  It  was  now  half-past  8  o'clock,  and  the  second  barge-load  did 
not  arrive  till  about  2  h.  later.  Meanwhile,  the  rain  had  continued  to  fall, 
with  varying  degrees  of  intensity,  though  there  was  a  brief  cessation  of  the 
downpour  soon  after  my  own  journey  ended.  My  velveteen  riding  clothes, 
though  so  well  soaked  then  as  to  require  20  h.  behind  the  stove  for  drying, 
had  really  shed  the  rain  much  better  than  would  have  been  expected,  ao'' 


~"E  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  265 

irchways  over  the  smooth  atreels. 

.  liat  back  from  ihc  toad,  (dl  of 

'scjuely  situated  on  a  high  bluS, 

iir  3  tn.  s.  of  Eastport,  and  having 

Liir  its  chief  industry."    The  steady 

vL-ver,  had  rendered  the  roads  im- 

MI  that  second  day;  and  the  best  that 

ly's  route  might  be  comfortably  taken 

iiartered  a  steam-tug  and  made  an  ei- 

L-  fogs  and  occasional  sharp  showers,  to 

■■   the  bicycles  and  two  or  three  of  the 

ewer  House  during  the  iiighL     I  myself 

ic  hotel,  engaged  in  reading  and  wiiling, 

promise  of  3.  brief  "  cessation  of  hostilities," 

•  <^ii  Brunswick"  by  driving  my  wheel  ajong 

M'is  the  little  bridge  into  the  village  of  St 

jdewalks  admitted  o£  considerable  additional 

ry  "  (inscribed  over  a  doomay  in  letters  of  such 

1  a  flying  wheelman  could  pretend  to  ignore  the 

made  to  him)  was  the  first  foreign  notion  that 

jiice  sprang  from  the  saddle,  overwhelmed   with 

It  "  Larrlgan"  might  be,  and  prepared,  if  necessary, 

■A  desire  to  eat  or  drink  my  fill  of  It.     Of  the  two,  I 

lability  of  its  being  something  to  drink;  for  it  is  well 

irveyor  of  potables  whose  bar  is  just  beyond  the  pro- 

J  the  "Maine  liquor  law"  has  an  excellent  chance  for 

ronage.    "'Larrigan    Manufactory,'"   I  meditated,  "is 

Urunswickian's  humorous  equivalent  for  '  Sample  Room,* 

louse'  and  similar  familiar  euphemisms,  dear  to  the  heart 

'  bar-keep ';"  and  none  of  the  numerous  persons  whom  1 

itely  questioned  on  the  subject  have  succeeded  in  making  a 

guess.      "Is  that  name  slang?"   asked  I  of  a  storekeeper, 

-s  to  the  sign,  "or  is  it  a  word  in  general  use, — a  good,  dictionary 

I  what  does  it  mean?"    "tial  ha  I"  laughed  he;  "it's  common 

.1   1   a'pose  you'll  find  it   in  all   the  dictionaries.     Why,  m^n! 

wade  in, — boots 

pledge,  I  took  a 
led  back  to  the 
rer  which  began 
'  cooperation  of 
ig  was  enlivened 
■The  wheelmen 
largely  attended 


268  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

rain.  A  brisk  pace  was  maintained  thenceforth,  and  the  remaining  13  m.  were 
completed  in  2\  h.  As  we  swept  down  the  hill  and  through  the  main  street 
to  the  dock  at  Eastport,  the  welcoming  blasts  of  our  two  buglers,  who  had 
kept  to  the  steam-tug,  assured  us  of  the  safe  arrival  of  that  important  craft — 
freighted  as  it  was  with  all  our  hopes  and  all  our  available  clothing, — ^though 
there  had  been  no  diminution  in  the  density  of  the  afternoon's  fog.  Both  sets 
of  tourists  were  happy,  for  the  patrons  of  the  tug  had  been  few  enough  to  ad- 
mit of*  their  all  keeping  warm  and  dry,  and  they  professed  great  doubts  of 
our  declaration  that  we  had  found  the  roads  in  very  fair  condition  for  riding ; 
while  we,  in  the  Consciousness  of  superior  virtue,  were  proud  to  give  them 
our  distinguished  assurance  that  they  had  lost  one  of  the  pleasantest  oppor- 
tunities of  the  entire  tour.  Our  afternoon's  ride  through  the  fog  was  certainly 
a  very  enjoyable  one  for  its  novelty,  and  was  free  from  serious  accidents  or 
tiresome  delays ;  though  of  course  we  missed  the  beautiful  scenery  of  Passa- 
maquoddy  bay,  which  had  delighted  our  eyes  on  the  northward  trip  of  Tues- 
day forenoon.  In  all  my  experience  of  6,000  m.  of  roadway,  I  can  recall  no 
single  stretch  of  30  m.  which  a  bicycler  could  find  more  pleasure  in  explor- 
ing, on  a  pleasant  day,  than  this  between  Calais  and  Eastport  It  seems  a 
pity  that  the  solid  granite  monuments  with  gilded  inscriptions,  which  admira- 
bly mark  the  miles  of  the  northern  quarter  of  it,  could  not  have  been  con- 
tinued  to  the  end. 

It  seems  a  pity,  also,  that  the  strange  spectacle  presented  at  the  dock, 
soon  after  our  arrival,  could  not  have  been  adequately  reproduced  by  artist 
or  photographer  (for  the  picture  on  p.  248  of  the  Wheelma^s  sketch  does  no 
sort  of  justice  to  it).  By  reason  of  the  tremendous  tides  characteristic  of 
this  locality,  the  tug  at  low-water  lay  far  beneath  the  level  of  the  wharf,  and 
the  twenty  bicycles  had  to  be  hooked  upon  a  derrick  and  lowered  ohe  by  one 
down  to  the  distant  deck.  The  curious  crowds,  that  peopled  the  adjacent 
lumber-piles,  watched  the  process  with  unabated  interest  to  the  end,  and 
when  the  tug  then  vanished  into  the  mist,  expresssed  their  regrets,  that  the 
novel  sight  could  be  seen  no  more,  by  uttering  good-natured  shouts  of  farewell. 
Across  the  bay  at  Lubec,  \  h.  later,  another  crowd  watched  the  disembarka- 
tion, though  there  the  level  of  the  mainland  was  reached  by  means  of  an 
inclined  plane,  whose  green  and  slippery  surface  suggested  many  mishaps, 
but  really  gave  cause  for  none.  It  was  after  9  o'clock  that  night  when  we 
left  the  dining-room  of  the  Cobscook  House  and  adjourned  to  the  barn,  to 
rub  from  our  wheels  the  rust-producing  moisture ;  but,  as  this  was  "  the 
longest  day  of  the  year,"  a  late  supper  seemed  not  inappropriate.  The  next 
night's  supper  was  also  designed  to  be  taken  at  the  same  hotel,  and  the  inter- 
mediate day  was  to  be  devoted  to  exploring  Grand  Manan,  10  m.  away,  noted 
in  the  prospectus  as  "  a  high,  rocky  island,  with  scenery  grand  beyond 
description,  and  with  a  hard,  smooth  road  running  its  entire  length,"  which  is 
15  m.  The  prospectus  did  not  say,  however,  that  "this  wonderful,  rocky 
sea  wall,  200  ft.  high,"  is  believed  by  most  travelers  to  have  its  perpendicu- 


IN  THE  DOIVN'-EAST  FOGS.  269 

lar  impressiveness  often  concealed,  by  "  Bay  of  Fundy  fogs,"  for  hours  and 
days  and  even  weeks  at  a  time.  The  summer  visitor  is  always  sure  of  find- 
ing the  air  of  the  island  cool,  but  is  never  sure  of  finding  it  clear, — no  matter 
though  the  sun  be  shining  when  he  leaves  the  mainland.  There  was  no  sun 
shining  on  Lubec,  that  Friday  morning,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  town 
reposed  beneath  massive  waves  of  fog,  which  rolled  in  from  the  ocean,  in  a 
sort  of  regular  order,  with  intervals  of  comparative  clearness  between  them. 
Six  of  the  Massachusetts  men  here  declared  that  they  had  had  quite  enough 
of  it,  and  that,  since  all  the  bicycling  of  the  tour  must  be  done  on  shipboard 
and  all  the  scenery  be  viewed  through  fogs,  they  themselves  would  take  the 
noon  boat  homeward  for  Portland.  This  disconsolate  intention  spurred  on 
the  photographer  to  "  take  "  the  party  again,  in  a  serried  mass  about  the  hotel 
door ;  and  then  there  was  an  open-air  debate  as  to  whether  the  day's  excur- 
sion should  be  to  the  adjacent  island  of  Campobello,  or  to  the  more  distant 
and  distinguished  Grand  Manan.  An  attempted  reconsideration  of  the  vote 
favoring  the  latter,  led  to  its  reassertion  by  a  more  pronounced  majority ; 
1 1  o'clock  was  named  as  the  hour  of  starting ;  and  orders  were  given  for  a 
lunch,  to  be  carried  on  board  the  steam-tug  and  eaten  during  the  voyage. 

The  commander  of  the  tour,  who,  during  all  this  interval,  in  temporary 
abdication  of  the  duties  of  that  position,  had  been  engaged  elsewhere 
superintending  necessary  repairs  for  his  machine,  now  took  counsel  with  the 
cautious  minority  who  favored  Campobello,  and  then  quietly  gave  orders  to 
disembark  there.  This  change  met  the  warm  approval  of  the  captain  of  the 
boat,  who  had  opposed  the  plan  of  visiting  the  more  distant  island  by  every  less 
conclusive  argument  than  violating  his  agreement  to  take  us  thither ;  and 
who  professed  that  his  narrow  escape  from  running  us  aground  on  the  way 
to  the  nearer  island  W2is  due  to  a  variation  in  his  compass  caused  by  the  in- 
fluence of  our  bicyclic  steel  upon  the  magnetic  needle.  If  this  were  really 
true,  it  would  of  course  have  been  foolhardy  in  him  to  have  attempted  steer- 
ing us  through  the  fog  to  Grand  Manan ;  and,  though  the  sun  probably  shone 
there  for  an  hour  or  two  that  day,  it  certainly  shone  for  quite  as  long  an  in- 
terval on  Campobello,  where  our  riding  proved  so  pleasant  as  to  banish  all 
chance  of  any  one's  cherishing  resentment  against  our  commander  for  wisely 
disregarding  the  formal  vote  of  the  "  sovereign  majority."  We  lunched  in  a 
dancing  hall  immediately  after  landing,  and  were  told  that  the  ferry-boat 
would  stop  for  us  on  her  return  trip  at  6  o'clock.  An  excellent  chance  was 
therefore  given  the  excursionists  to  break  up  into  little  groups  and  try  the 
various  roads  according  to  their  individual  pleasure,  without  the  irksomeness 
of  a  formally  organized  march ;  but  when  the  question  was  put  to  vote,  a 
large  majority  favored  the  plan  of  sticking  together;  and  most  of  the 
minority  then  seemed  to  feel  in  some  sense  bound  to  abandon  their  own  ex- 
pressed preferences.  So  one  of  the  *'  Star  men  "  and  myself  formed  the  only 
pair  who  ventured  upon  a  private  tour  and  talk,  apart  from  the  main  proces- 
sion.   I  had  here  my  first  fair  chance  for  closely  observing  and  freely  dis- 


270 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


cussing  the  numerous  special  advantages  of  this  "American'*  machine;  and 
I  was  convinced,  by  the  surprising  feats  of  the  rider  in  descending  steep 
and  stony  slopes,  that  for  ease  in  coasting,  as  well  as  for  safety  on  down- 
grades in  general,  the  "  Star  "  is  far  preferable  to  any  crank-driven  bicycle. 
The  8  m.  of  island  roadway  which  I  traversed  (in  both  directions)  can  all  be 
recommended  as  pleasant,  and  most  of  it  as  smooth.  The  r.-hand  road  from 
the  dock  begins  by  ascending  a  hill,  and  ends  on  the  shore  level,  opposite 
Lubec.  It  is  the  best  one  on  the  island,  being  3  m.  long,  and  affording  an 
excellent  coasting-place  on  the  return-trip,  when  one  reaches  the  woods  after 
passing  the  big  summer  hotels.  This  coasting  will  bring  the  rider  back 
almost  to  the  fork  in  the  road,  about  \  m.  from  the  dock;  but  instead  of  re- 
turning further,  he  may  continue  onward  \  m.  to  the  next  fork,  on  the  brow  of 
a  hill,  and  then  go  down  the  r.-hand  road  till  it  ends,  in  just  i  m.,  on  the  wild 
and  desolate  ocean  beach.  Retracing  his  course  to  the  fork,  he  may  go 
onward  to  the  1.  through  the  woods  for  \  m.  till  he  reaches  the  watering- 
trough  (excellently  pictured  on  p.  338  of  Wheelfnan)^  where  the  cavalcade  of 
June  22  decided  to  turn  about.  I  myself,  however,  went  \\  m.  beyond  here 
before  making  the  turn,  and  was  even  then  by  no  means  at  the  end  of  the 
road, — though  I  cannot  deny  that  its  stony  slopes  made  rather  dangerous 
traveling  for  me,  if  not  for  my  comrade  on  the  "Star";  and  the  mosquitoes 
were  persistently  bloodthirsty.  The  1.  road  from  the  dock,  leading  past 
another  noted  summer  hotel  called  the  "Owen,"  we  traversed  for  only  \\ 
m.,  as  progress  became  too  rough  for  comfort  soon  after  passing  the  church. 
Campobello  offered  for  our  inspection  several  barn-like  structures  where 
countless  numbers  of  herring  were  being  smoked ;  and  at  Lubec,  during  the 
forenoon  or  previous  evening,  most  of  the  party  had  visited  the  establishment 
where  countless  other  herring,  of  smaller  size,  were  being  scraped  and  salted 
and  "  flaked  "  and  cooked  and  oiled  and  packed  in  little  tin  boxes  whose  labels 
were  designed  to  advertise  the  contents  as  "  genuine  French  sardines."  The 
proprietor,  or  his  chief  representative,  was  very  cordial  in  his  attentions  and 
quite  ready  to  present  each  visitor  with  a  sample  box  of  his  product.  His 
little  herrings  were  by  no  means  ill-tasting,  but  no  one  at  all  acquainted  with 
the  flavor  of  true  sardines  would  accept  that  of  their  Maine  counterfeits  as 
identical.  Much  of  the  work  in  the  shop  is  done  by  young  girls,  who  are  as- 
signed to  the  different  parts  of  it  in  regular  succession,  and  are  "  paid  by  the 
piece."    The  hotel  man  assured  us  that  the  annual  sales  exceeded  $80,000. 

Saturday,  the  last  regular  riding-day  of  the  tour,  was  the  first  day  whose 
events  happened  according  to  the  appointment  of  the  programme,  and  the  only 
day  when  the  whole  party  engaged  in  a  ride  of  any  considerable  length. 
Starting  from  Lubec  at  7  o'clock,  the  end  was  reached  at  Machias,  7  h.  later, — 
the  distance  being  announced  in  advance  as  28  m.,  which  was  exactly  the 
record  of  my  own  cyclometer.  The  invitation  of  February  had  said  that  the 
road  was  "  so  hard  and  smooth  as  easily  to  be  covered  in  less  than  4  h.";  and 
I  believe  that  three  of  our  strongest  riders,  who  took  an  early  start  and  made 


IN  THE  DO  WN-EA  ST  FOGS.  2  7 1 

no  delays,  did  do  it  in  about  that  time,  finishing  at  half-past  9  o'clock.  I  my- 
self had  agreed  to  start  early  with  "  the  Star  man,"  in  order  to  take  break- 
fast with  some  friends  of  his  at  Whiting,  12  m.  out;  but,  by  some  unlucky 
chance,  he  roused  me  from  bed  at  3  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and,  as  I  had 
failed  to  get  to  sleep  till  nearly  midnight,  I  was  in  no  very  good  humor  when, 
having  finished  a  preliminary  lunch  by  lamplight,  we  mounted  our  saddles  at 
4.20  A.  M.  The  chilliness  of  the  fog  induced  us  to  go  fast  at  first  for  the  sake 
of  warmth,  and  when  some  road-repairs  on  a  hill  caused  the  first  stop,  4 
m.  out,  only  20  min.  had  elapsed.  Three  miles  on,  i  h.  from  the  start,  the 
second  halt  was  caused  by  a  similar  obstacle  ;  and  we  were  i  h.  more  in  doing 
the  remaining  5  m.  to  our  destination.  The  Dennysville  road  was  reached  i 
m.  previous  to  this,  just  after  we  had  crossed  the  Orange  river,  in  front  of  a 
pretty  waterfall.  As  we  sat  at  breakfast,  J  h.  after  arriving,  we  were  sur- 
prised by  seeing  three  other  members  of  the  party  sweep  suddenly  by ;  but  it 
was  not  till  9.40  A.  M.  that  the  main  column  appeared  and  absorbed  us  into 
its  embrace.  The  sun,  which  had  overwhelmed  the  fogs,  i  h.  before,  betrayed 
the  sad  truth  that  three  bicycles  were  riding  in  the  baggage-wagon, — the 
owners  thereof  having  preferred  to  hire  a  covered  carriage  for  their  fore- 
noon's pleasuring, — and  the  wheelmen  actually  in  line  were  thus  reduced  to  23. 
For  the  next  12  m.  the  path  was  softer  and  sandier  and  led  through  forests 
of  stunted  pines  ( WheelmatCs  picture  on  p.  245  gives  a  good  idea  of  this), 
without  ever  once  leading  into  the  shade,  though  the  sun  blazed  out  with  in- 
creasing intensity  as  the  forenoon  advanced, — as  if  to  make  up  for  his  absence 
during  the  five  days  preceding.  A  general  halt  was  made  at  a  farm-house, 
for  water,  at  a  quarter  past  10,  and  another  at  half  past  12,  about  8  m.  beyond. 
This  second  stop  was  quite  prolonged,  for  we  were  all  overheated,  and  many 
wished  to  bathe  their  burning  faces,  after  quenching  their  thirst.  Two  miles 
more  brought  us  to  East  Machias,  at  i  o'clock,  and  there  a  large  crowd  had 
assembled  to  welcome  us,  beneath  the  folds  of  a  big  American  flag.  The 
chief  store-keeper  of  the  place  invited  us  in  to  refresh  ourselves  with  lemon- 
ade and  crackers,  whereof  we  swallowed  enormous  quantities,  and  then  ex- 
pressed our  heartfelt  thanks  for  the  courtesy  by  a  rousing  round  of  cheers. 
No  possible  lunch  could  have  been  more  acceptable  to  such  a  weary  and  per- 
spiring band  of  plcasurers.  It  revived  our  drooping  spirits  immensely,  and 
seemed  to  shorten  the  dreary  gap  of  4  m.  or  more  which  still  separated  us 
from  the  waiting  dinner-table  at  Machias.  The  road  thither  proved  good, 
also ;  but  there  were  many  cries  of  impatience  over  delays,  caused — first  by 
the  photographer's  zeal  for  taking  an  instantaneous  view  of  the  whole  party 
in  motion,  and  second  by  the  captain's  zeal  for  making  an  alignment  outside 
the  village,  and  instructing  us  as  to  the  order  td  be  observed  in  entering  the 
same, — ^for  not  only  were  we  growing  hotter  and  hungrier  every  instant,  but 
we  saw  that  a  thunder-storm  was  every  instant  drawing  nearer,  and  we  did 
not  wish  to  indulge  in  an  open-air  shower-bath.  The  three  swift  riders  who 
had  preceded  us,  and  one  or  two  of  the  "  ambulance  men  "  joined  the  party 


272  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

when  the  alignment  was  made ;  and  we  swept  into  town  and  dismounted  ia 
line,  facing  the  Eastern  Hotel,  in  very  respectable  style.  The  big  rain-drops 
were  already  beginning  to  descend,  however;  and  soon  there,  was  a  tremen- 
dous downpour,  which  lasted  about  i  h.,  and  left  the  air  very  hot  and  sultry. 
The  men  were  glad  enough  to  keep  quiet  during  the  rest  of  the  afternoon,  but 
just  before  nightfall  they  most  of  them  yielded  to  the  captain's  wishes  and 
paraded  through  the  town  to  the  trotting-park  and  there  engaged  in  a  few  sim- 
ple evolutions  for  the  benefit  of  the  assembled  multitude.  At  the  supper 
which  followed,  we  were  honored  by  the  presence  of  several  of  the  "  promi- 
nent citizens,"  with  their  citizenesses,  and  an  "  address  of  welcome,"  ending 
up  with  an  apt  quotation  from  the  old  "  treadmill "  poem,  which  was  very 
well  received.  Our  clerical  member  made  an  appropriate  response ;  and  then 
there  was  "  a  reception  "  in  the  parlors,  and  "  music  by  the  band  "  outside, 
where  the  flaring  kerosene  torches  and  the  red-coated  musicians  and  the 
crowds  of  spectators  in  the  background  made  quite  a  brave  display.  Alto- 
gether, it  was  "  a  great  day  "  for  the  quiet  old  town  of  Machias,  Maine. 

It  had  been  a  tiresome  day  for  me  personally,  however,  and  though  I 
made  out  to  keep  my  eyes  open  during  the  progress  of  the  speech-making, 
I  was  fast  asleep  in  bed  before  the  brass-band  had  succeeded  in  struggling 
through  their  overture.  There  was,  nevertheless,  a  sort  of  painful  pleasure 
in  thus  paying  with  my  person  the  expected  penalty  of  "touring  with  a 
crowd."  My  theory  was  entirely  justified.  I  am  sure  I  should  not  have 
been  half  so  weary  if  I  had  gone  over  the  same  road  alone,  that  day,  in  the 
same  number  of  hours,  riding  and  resting  exactly  when  and  where  I  pleased. 
Six  days  before,  after  traversing  a  similar  distance,  on  even  worse  roads,  in 
the  forenoon,  I  was  in  good  condition  for  enjoying  an  afternoon's  ride  of  30 
m.  more,  and  I  finished  the  day's  trip  in  excellent  spirits.  But  "  thirty  miles 
more,"  on  the  afternoon  of  reaching  Machias,  would  certainly  have  finished 
me^  no  matter  how  smooth  the  track.  The  next  forenoon  found  me  quite 
refreshed,  however,  and  so,  towards  the  close  of  it  (while  the  majority  of  the 
party  were  dutifully  attending  church-service  "  in  a  body,"  and  our  clerical 
member  was,  by  special  invitation  of  the  occupant,  airing  his  knee-breeches 
in  the  sacred  heights  of  the  pulpit),  I  wheeled  out  over  the  hills  and  through 
the  low  pine  woods  to  Whitneyville,  4  m.,  and  to  a  certain  point,  2  m. 
beyond,  where  a  gully  caused  my  first  dismount,  and  suggested  the  propriety 
of  a  return  to  dinner.  I  was  40  min.  on  the  way  back, — ^being  stopped  only 
once  by  a  short,  rough  hill  at  Whitneyville  bridge.  The  sun  shone  hotly, 
but  a  refreshing  breeze  somewhat  tempered  its  rays.  A  small  deer  ran 
across  the  road,  a  few  rods  ahead  of  me,  in  the  woods  beyond  the  village 
just-named  (though  that  sort  of  animal  is  no  longer  common  in  the  region, 
and  I  think  none  of  my  fellow-tourists  sighted  a  specimen) ;  and  at  another 
point  of  the  ride  a  family  of  black  people  amused  me  by  their  crazy  cries  ol 
amazement  and  delight  at  witnessing  my  success  in  riding  up  and  down  %  |^|Bb 
Later  in  the  day  I  was  also  amazed  by  my  success  in  climbing  up  the 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  373 

of  the  approache*  to  the  hotel,  which  I  do  not  think  would  have  been  possi- 
ble had  I  not  just  emerged  from  the  river,  well  refreshed  by  the  swim  which 
1  half-dozen  of  ui  enjoyed  there,  behind  the  logging  dam.  As  the  Portland 
steamer,  on  which  our  return  passage  had  been  engaged,  was  to  start  from 
Uachiasport  at  4  o'clock  on  Monday  morning,  we  not  only  slept  on  board  but 
took  our  last  united  supper  there, — wheeling  down  for  that  purpose,  on  an 
excellent  road  of  4  m.,  between  5  and  6  p.  m.  Here  the  photogtapher,  who 
had  dutifully  attended  church  in  the  morning,  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
of  wickedly  working  his  camera  at  our  expense,  since  it  was  positively  bis 
last  chance ;  and  so  he  refused  to  let  us  have  any  supper  until  we  had  ridden 
many  minutes  in  a  circle  in  front  of  the  steamer  and  been  "  instantaneously 
*  taken."  So  pleasant  and  invigorating  was  the  evening  air  that  the  whole 
piny  enjoyed  to  the  utmost  this  final  "necessary"  ride  of  Sunday,  which 
formally  ended  the  tour,  and  were  put  in  good-humor  for  taking  a  philosophic- 
ally contemplative  view  of  it  as  being,  01;  the  whole  and  in  retrospect,  a 
great  success.  Several  even  made  another  visit  to  Machias,  after  supper, 
10  enjoy  the  road  again  and  test  its  capacity  for  speed  ;  and  I  myself  wheeled 
half-way  back  there,  in  order  to  secure  the  studs  which  had  been  torn  from 
my  linen  shirt-front  by  a  severe  tumble  of  the  afternoon. 

This  was  a  proper  penalty  for  wearing  such  a  garment  in  place  of  the 
customary  flannel  one;  and  the  fall  itself  was  caused  by  the  incautious 
eicbange  of  my  customary  riding  boots  for  a  pair  of  loose  house-shoes, 
vhich  impaired  my  grip  on  the  pedals.  I  thought  I  might  use  such  shoes  safely 
on  so  short  and  smooth  a  ride, and  that,  as  this  was  our  final  "dress  parade," 
It  was  perhaps  incumbent  upon  me  to  array  my  legs  according  to  the  regula- 
lion  fashion ;  but  in  Che  effort  of  making  a  swift  rush  up  the  first  steep  stupe 
oi  a  certain  hill,  1  forgot  all  about  the  loose  shoes,  till  one  of  them  suddenly 
■lipped  off  the  right'hand  pedal  and  carried  me  instantly  with  it  to  the 
ground.  The  palms  of  both  hands  bore  quite  evenly  the  force  of  the  fall, 
but  my  face  graied  the  ground  sufficiently  to  scrape  a  little  skin  from  over 
my  left  eyebrow, — making  thus  the  first  outward  and  visible  scar  I  ever 
received  from  such  a  mishap.  The  bicycle  keeled  tntt  on  top  of  me  and 
bent  its  handle-bar,  but  I  quickly  seized  it  and  "got  out  of  the  road,"  in 
response  to  the  warning  shout  of  the  man  just  behind,  and  I  was  again 
mnunted  and  in  motion  before  any  one  else  had  observed  the  disaster.    This 

ily 
ed 
nt 
Ily 
ily 


274  '^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

sudden  as  to  forbid  my  scrambling  off  backwards  or  sidewise,  even  though 
I  immediately  afterwards  lost  my  equilibrium;  and,  when  actually  flung  for- 
ward over  the  handle-bar,  I  have  never  landed  squarely  on  both  hands,  save 
in  the  two  instances  named.  The  broken  shirt-studs  were  found  by  me, 
though  one  of  them  had  been  well  ground  up  by  a  wagon-tire ;  and  then, 
having  returned  to  Machiasport,  I  proceeded  a  couple  of  miles  southward, 
over  a  beautiful  road  whose  hills  offered  fine  chances  for  coasting,  until  the 
gathering  darkness  caused  a  return  to  the  steamer,  at  half-past  8,  with  a 
cyclometer  record  of  24  m.  for  the  day.  The  "  Star  man  "  who  accompanied 
me  on  this  evening  spin  barely  escaped  illustrating  the  possibility  (which  the 
peculiarity  of  the  mechanism  renders  very  remote)  of  "taking  a  header," 
even  on  that  *'  safety  bicycle '' ;  for  an  unobserved  gully  in  the  down-grade, 
which  he  was  coasting  at  tremendous  speed,  caused  it  to  "  ride  on  the  front 
wheel  only  '*  for  several  feet,  without  quite  toppling  over.  Another  mishap 
of  the  afternoon  was  that  of  the  man  who  attempted  to  make  no  dismount  at 
the  place  where,  for  a  few  rods,  an  extremely  narrow  and  difficult  path  led 
between  a  slough  of  mud  and  a  miry  ditch ;  and  who,  when  he  did  dismount, 
was  obliged  to  let  his  bicycle  take  a  plunge  into  the  latter.  The  two  Nova 
Scotians  of  our  party,  who  joined  us  at  Eastport,  wheeled  back  to  Robbins- 
ton  that  Sunday  morning,  crossed  there  to  St.  Andrews,  N.  B.,  and  on  Tues- 
day noon' reached  St  John,  X15  m.  distant,  and  took  the  homeward  steamer. 
The  fogs  of  Monday  morning  were  dissipated  before  our  steamer  reached 
Jonesport,  about  8  or  9  o'clock,  and  halted  there  for  i  h.,  to  take  on  many 
wooden  boxes  which  were  packed  full  of  little  tin  boxes  containing  "  genuine 
French  sardines."  The  gangway  was  of  so  steep  an  incline  that  considerable 
skill  had  to  be  shown  by  the  deck  hands  in  sliding  their  trucks  down  it  with- 
out disaster ;  and  the  spectators  amused  themselves  by  speculations  as  to 
whether  a  given  man  would  get  a  given  load  of  boxes  safely  through,  or  would 
have  a  collision  that  would  disrupt  some  of  them  and  send  a  shower  of  sar- 
dine tins  flying  about  the  deck.  Short  pedestrian  tours  from  the  dock  showed 
that  the  roads  were  good,  and  some  of  the  party  talked  of  trying  them  by 
wheel  during  the  steamer's  delay ;  but  none  really  did  so.  Another  impro- 
vised project  was  that  of  wheeling  along  shore  down  to  Milbridge,  where  the 
steamer  next  stopped,  for  we  were  told  that  the  track  of  12  m.  leading  thither 
was  smooth  and  hard ;  and  several  would  undoubtedly  have  attempted  this, 
myself  included,  had  not  the  forbidding  fact  been  announced  to  us  that  the 
steamer  did  not  touch  at  the  dock,  but  only  took  on  passengers  from  small 
boats,  some  distance  from  shore.  Ten  wheelmen,  however,  had  decided  to 
prolong  their  vacation  sufficiently  for  the  exploration  of  Mount  Desert,  and 
the  special  artist  also  went  ashore  with  them  there  at  i  o'clock.  Dinner  on 
the  boat  was  finished  with  some  abruptness  at  Bar  Harbor,  and  hasty  leave- 
takings  were  offered  the  seventeen  remaining  tourists  who  continued  onwards 
towards  Portland,  as  originally  appointed.  The  representative  of  one  of  the 
monster  "summer-resort"  hotels  of  Bar  Harbor  had  met  us  at  Machias  and 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  275 

offered  the  inducement  of  half-rates,  if  wc  would  stop  over  foT  a  day  or  two 
and  help  "  open  the  season  "  of  bis  as  yet  unpeopled  establishment ;  and  it 
may  be  added  that  several  of  the  lesser  lioteU  previously  patronized  had  im- 
mortalized our  viflit  by  opening  new  registry  books,  emblazoned  as  to  the 
title-page  with  "Tour  of  the  Portland  Bicycle  Club,"  beneath  which  legend 
we  placed  our  precious  signatures. 

I  had  hardly  believed  that  the  fascination  of  "riding  in  a  tegular  body 
together "  would  retain  its  hold  on  the  tourists  in  such  a  place  as  Mount 
Desert,  where  the  plan  of  jogging  about  in  twos  or  threes  or  solitarily,  accord- 
ing to  individual  whim,  seemed  so  much  more  in  keeping  with  the  character 
and  spirit  of  the  place ;  but  the  captain  was  inexorably  bent  on  taking  a  regu- 
lar ride;  and  not  a  man  could  I  End  to  join  me  in  rebellion  against  him.    Hia 
decision  was,  after  a  brief  itupection  of  the  map,  that  we  must  attempt  what 
is  known  as  "  the  z2-m.  drive  "1  and  though  it  might  perhaps  be  fairly  assumed, 
on  general  principles,  that  the  roads  of  an  island  distinctively  famous  for  its 
rocks  and  crags  could  not  be  safely  accepted  as  favorable  for  bicycling,  ex- 
cept on  better  evidence  than  the  beliefs  and  guesses  of  a  lounger  in  a  "  sum- 
mer-resort hotel," — the  rest  of  the  party  acquiesced  in  the  decision  as  un- 
questioningly  as  if  it  had  related  to  an  afternoon's  spin  along  a  familiarly- 
known  macadamised  triclt,  like  the   one  overlooking  the  Hudson  from  New 
York  to  Tarrytown.    So,  at  a  quarter  before   2  o'clock,  the  devoted  tea 
wheeled  out  from  the  seclusion  of  the  Grand  Central  Hotel,  and  started  south- 
ward, with  gay  and  hopeful  hearts, — the  carriage  of  the  artist  bringing  up  the 
rear.    Six  hours  and  ten  minutes  later,  the  specified  circuit  of  zz  m.  was  com- 
pleted.   The  appointed  task  of  getting  the  bicycles  "  around  the  drive  "  had 
been  accomplished  \  not  one  of  the  pleasurers  had  shirked  a  single  rod  of  it ; 
and  though  most  of  them  were  badly  bruised,  all  were  at  least  sufficiently 
alive  to  be  conscious  of  unbroken  bones.     Vet  these  men  were  the  tliie  of  the 
thirty-five,  so  far  as  touring  was  concerned,  for  a  similar  number  of  equally 
good  riders  could  not  have  been  selected  from  ttie  remaining  twenty-five,  nor 
a  similar  number  of  better  riders  from  among  ten  times  aa  many  average  bi- 
cyclers.   Not  one  of  them  was  weak  or  inexperienced  or  ill-mounted  on  the 
:ired  before  half  the 
lemorablc  trip  of  the 
lany  respects  unique, 
much  in  so  short  a 
iphic  picture  of  the 
be  vividly  presented 
iix  bent  handle-bars, 

lie  at  the  start,  for, 
.  had  been  covered, 
pace  seemed  to  me 

ipped  to  the  rear^— 


276         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

not  even  pretending  to  keep  in  sight  of  the  artist's  carriage,  which  I  soon 
allowed  to  pass  me.  I  overtook  the  party  only  when  the  halts  were  made, 
and,  on  the  second  occasion,  I  advised  the  captain  not  to  await  my  approach 
when  I  should  again  fall  behind,  because  of  the  probability  of  my  soon  turn- 
ing about,  or  trying  some  shorter  road  than  "  the  drive."  I  explained  that 
the  shock  of  the  previous  day*s  tumble  had  affected  me  more  seriously  than  I 
at  first  realized, — ^for  my  hands  were  sore  and  my  arms  were  stiff,  and  I  felt 
generally  listless  and  indisposed  to  the  making  of  any  very  active  or  pro- 
longed exertion, — ^but,  even  had  I  been  in  good  condition,  I  should  hardly 
have  been  inclined  to  accept  this  scheme  of  trooping  through  the  woods 
without  stop,  for  the  sake  of  "  covering  as  many  miles  as  possible  in  the 
afternoon,"  as  exactly  the  ideal  arrangement  for  "  enjoying  the  scenery  of 
Mount  Desert."  However,  as  the  road  grew  more  difficult,  after  the  5th  m. 
had  been  entered  upon,  and  as  the  pace  grew  slower  because  the  party  were 
more  frequently  pedestrians,  my  own  spirits  began  to  rise,  and  I  decided  I 
would,  at  whatever  sacrifice,  stick  to  them  till  the .  bitter  end.  I  now  clearly 
foresaw  that  the  end  would  probably  be  very  bitter  indeed,  but  I  wanted  to 
have  the  happiness  of  sharing  in  its  bitterness  and  of  thus  winning  the  right 
of  a  personal  witness  to  testify  Against  such  foolhardy  pleasuring.  What 
though  my  own  weariness  equaled  or  exceeded  that  of  every  one  else  ?  I 
should  have  the  solace,  which  all  the  rest  would  lack,  of  seeing  my  theory 
about  the  discomforts  of  **  touring  in  a  crowd "  abundantly  justified  I  The 
more  we  sweated  and  suffered,  the  better  I  should  be  pleased  1  The  deeper 
our  groans  and  regrets  and  lamentations,  the  louder  and  more  triumphant 
could  be  my  cry  of  "  I  told  you  so  "  1 

The  store  at  Seal  Harbor,  8  m.  from  the  start,  was  the  scene  of  our 
fourth  halt  and  our  longest  one ;  and,  though  the  numerous  hills  for  the  4  m. 
leading  thither  were  so  steep  that  they  had  to  be  walked  down  as  well  as 
walked  up,  the  distance  was  covered  in  i  h.  Meanwhile,  on  a  certain  rocky 
and  sandy  descent,  a  trio  of  riders  had  been  flung  over  their  handle-bars  in 
rapid  succession,  and  I,  being  just  behind,  only  escaped  a  similar  fate  by  a 
quick  dismount.  One  of  these  unfortunates  was  the  victim  of  the  introductory 
accident  at  Eastport, — ^from  the  effects  of  which  the  final  signs  were  just 
about  vanishing  from  his  nose, — and  another  was  a  townsman  of  his,  who  had 
never  before  "  taken  a  header "  in  three  seasons  of  riding.  Our  captain, 
furthermore,  had  already  been  brought  to  a  realizing  sense  of  his  depravity  in 
choosing  so  rough  a  route,  by  being  forced  to  a  slight  side-fall  (though  he  was 
one  of  the  most  careful  of  nders,  as  shown  by  his  remarkable-  record  of 
6,000  m. — ^much  of  it  on  the  macadamized  roads  around  Boston — ^without  any 
falling  whatever) ;  and  he  had  far  harder  luck,  on  a  rough  descent  10  m.  be- 
yond, for  his  handle-bar  then  got  a  worse  bending  than  happened  to  any  other 
during  the  tour.  The  mishap  was  soorf  righted,  however,  by  the  skilfully  ap- 
plied strength  of  our  **  champion  long-distance  man  "—who  had  by  this  time 
become  so  expert  at  the  business  as  to  make  us  gratefully  give  him  the  addi* 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  277 

tional  title  of  "  champion  handle-bar  straightener/'  Before  this,  the  editor  of 
the  IVhtelman  had  had  his  bar  pulled  into  shape,  when  he  took  the  first  of 
his  two  or  three  tumbles ;  and  I  improved  that  occasion  to  let "  the  champion  " 
also  exercise  his  muscle  on  mine,  which  had  exhibited  a  tell-tale  curve  since 
the  fall  of  the  previous  afternoon.  His  last  work  was  done  in  the  dusk  at  a 
quarter  of  8,  a  mile  from  the  end  of  our  ride,  for  there  the  sixth  man 
tumbled  and  the  sixth  bar  was  bent.  That  final  fall  of  the  trip  so  changed 
the  complexion  of  the  party  that  the  "  bent-handle  men,"  who  began  in  a 
minority  of  three  and  then  rose  to  the  dignity  of  "  a  tie,"  now  clearly  com- 
manded a  "  working  majority  of  all,"  and  might  easily  bring  their  combined 
ill-luck  to  bear  for  the  upsetting  of  the  happier  minority,  consisting  of  the 
clergyman,  the  Agricultural  College  student,  the  handle-bar  straightener  and 
myself.  I  suggested,  therefore,  to  them  that  the  only  sure  way  of  protecting 
ourselves  against  this  uncanny  influence,  and  preserving  our  proud  pre- 
eminence over  the  six,  was  to  allow  them  to  ride  the  remaining  mile  to  the 
hotel,  while  we  ourselves  trudged  thither  on  foot !  But  the  road  now  proved 
too  smooth  for  the  indulgence  in  any  such  mock  superstitions,  and  we  all 
wheeled  along  together  at  a  good  smart  pace.  Thus,  the  last  mile  as  well  as 
the  first  one  of  what  might  be  called  "  a  pedestrian  tour  with  bicycles  around 
the  22-m.  drive  of  Mount  Desert"  was  really  accomplished  a-wheelback; 
though  I  am  very  sure  that  few  or  none  of  the  men  kept  in  their  saddles  for 
more  than  half  of  the  intermediate  distance. 

The  only  place  on  the  route  where  any  sort  of  refreshments  could  be 
purchased  was  the  store  at  Seal  Harbor ;  and  there  we  feasted  for  twenty 
minutes  on  oranges  and  lemons  and  crackers  and  confectionery.  Two  miles 
and  a  quarter  beyond  is  a  watering-trough,  where  we  made  our  next  stop,  after 
forty  minutes  of  hilly  pedestrianism,  including  a  very  tiresome  crawl  over  a 
long  causeway  or  breakwater  of  loose  stones.  Beyond  the  water-trough  was 
a  stretch  of  rough,  hard  clay,  extending  northward  along  the  east  side  of 
Somes  Sound,  and  we  rode  it  pretty  continuously  for  4  m.,  or  until  we  reached 
the  point  where  the  telegraph  line  crosses  it  and  goes  eastward.  It  was  now 
about  6  o^clock  as  we  also  turned  off  to  the  r.  to  follow  its  lead,  and  during 
this  hour  on  the  way  from  the  watering-place  the  course  had  been  so  rough 
and  difficult  as  to  make  our  riding  almost  as  slow  and  tiresome  as  the  pre- 
vious walking  had  been.  The  eastwaJ'd  roadway  proved  smoother,  and 
generally  shadier,  though  the  hilliness  continued,  and  at  the  top  of  one  long 
slope  which  we  had  toiled  up  while  the  descending  sun  shone  hotly  upon  our 
backs,  we  made  our  sixth  and  last  general  halt  for  rest  and  water.  It  was 
now  a  quarter  of  7  o'clock,  and  we  lacked  4  m.  of  completing  the  circuit.  The 
bending  of  two  handle-bars  formed  the  enlivening  incidents  of  the  first  part 
of  this  distance,  though  midway  between  them,  I  myself  was  individually 
enlivened  by  having  my  wheel  disregard  its  brake  and  run  away  with  me  on  a 
rough  down-grade.  I  finally  escaped  the  expected  disaster  and  brought  the 
wheel  and  myself  safely  to  a  halt,  by  a  backward  spring  and  scramble,  which, 


278  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

though  effective,  was  so  ludicrously  ungraceful  that  the  pedestrians  behind 
me  laughed  loud  and  long.  Aside  from  this,  our  miseries  were  alleviated 
occasionally  by  refreshing  bits  of  scenery,  for  oar  circuit  included  Dry, 
Green  and  Sargent's  mountains  as  well  as  Eagle  Lake,  and  our  chances  for 
viewing  these  were,  at  one  time  or  another,  extremely  good.  The  trouble  was 
that  we  were  forced  to  restrict  ourselves  so  much  in  the  enjoyment  of  these 
chances :  we  were  in  too  great  a  hurry.  The  "  22-m.  drive  "  is  certainly  not 
to  be  recommended  as  an  ideal  path  for  bicycling ;  but  I  am  sure  that  I  could 
find  considerable  enjoyment  in  going  over  it  alone,  if  I  devoted  a  whole  day 
to  the  excursion,  and  loitered  or  kept  in  motion  exactly  when  I  pleased ;  and 
I  should  surely  take  that  excursion  if  I  had  several  days  of  leisure  to  spend 
on  the  island.  At  the  supper  table,  that  evening,  where  "  good  digestion 
waited  on  appetite  "  far  more  pronouncedly  than  the  young  women  nominally 
employed  for  that  purpose,  the  crowd  was  a  tolerably  happy  if  not  an  up- 
roariously merry  one ;  for  the  pleasing  sense  of  difficulties  conquered  and 
perils  past  was  a  sort  of  solace  for  blistered  feet  and  aching  bones.  My  own 
physical  pangs  had  the  additional  solace  of  anticipations  realized.  The  trip 
had  proved  difficult  and  wearisome  beyond  my  fondest  hope  1  My  theory  was 
fully  justified  I 

The  peculiarly  healthful  nature  of  bicycling,  even  when  practiced  under 
the  worst  conditions  and  far  beyond  the  pleasure-yielding  point,  was  shown  by 
the  fact  that,  on  the  following  morning,  every  man  of  the  party  was  ready  and 
anxious  for  "more."  Some  of  us  even  indulged  in  an  ante-breakfast  spin  of  2  or 
3  m.,  to  explore  the  smoothly-paved  streets  of  the  village,  shrouded  as  yet  in 
the  heavy  morning  mists.  Most  of  the  party  left  the  hotel  about  half-past  9, 
for  a  northward  ride  of  6  m.,  along  the  shore  to  **  the  Ovens," — ^as  the  great 
holes  in  the  sea-side  cliffs  are  not  inappropriately  called.  I  joined  the  party 
at  the  time  of  their  taking  a  rest,  two-thirds  of  the  way  out,  where  some 
road-repairing  gave  excuse  for  a  halt  With  this  exception,  the  track  was 
continuously  good,  and  some  stretches  were  excellent,  though  walking  was 
needed  on  a  few  steep  or  stony  pitches  of  the  up-grades.  A  continuation  of 
this  road  leads  across  a  bridge  to  the  main  land,  and  so  on  to  Ellsworth, 
Bucksport  and  Bangor,  which  latter  city,  45  m.  away,  is  the  nearest  point  of 
approach  by  rail.  The  proprietors  of  the  stage  coaches  which  regularly  run 
between  Bar-Harbor  and  the  places  named,  are  said  to  keep  the  entire  line  in 
proper  condition ;  and  our  youngest  member,  the  college  student,  intended  to 
make  trial  of  it  in  proceeding  homeward.  An  eastward  branch  from  this 
main  route  leads  to  "  the  Ovens,"  and  a  wide  and  beautiful  water-view  may 
be  had  while  descending  thither.  We  stayed  on  that  remarkable  spot  for 
about  )  h.,  and  wished  we  might  remain  a  week,  but  the  claims  of  **  dinner 
in  time  for  the  i  o'clock  boat,"  necessitated  an  early  return ;  and  for  once  at 
least,  on  this  final  spin  of  the  trip,  every  man  "  went  as  he  pleased."  The 
fogs  of  the  early  morning  had  now  all  vanished ;  views  of  varying  beauty 
met  the  eye  at  every  turn ;  and  the  sensation  of  spinning  along  the  sea-wall, 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  279 

high  above  the  water  which  stretched  many  miles  away  in  the  sunlight,  was 
very  fine  and  exhilarating.  Here  at  last  was  some  bicycling  really  worthy  of 
the  name ;  but  it  was,  alas,  the  last  I  At  least,  it  was  the  last  of  the  tour  for 
the  half-dozen  of  us  who  took  the  I  o'clock  boat  for  Rockland,  and  enjoyed 
together,  in  the  isolation  of  the  upper-deck,  a  five  hours'  sail  sufficiently 
delightful  to  more  than  atone  for  all  our  sufferings  on  the  trip.  Supper  was 
taken  on  shore  by  all  save  myself,  who  trusted  not  to  the  hotel-man's  siren 
song  that  there  was  "plenty  of  time,"  and  who  thereby  escaped  a  run 
through  the  dusty  streets  to  catch  "  the  Bangor  boat  for  Boston,"  where  we 
all  disembarked  at  7  o'clock  the  next  morning,  and  went  our  separate  ways. 

The  three  Worcester  men  were  obliged  to  stay  another  day  at  Bar  Har- 
bor, in  order  to  use  their  original  excursion-tickets  on  the  direct  boat  to 
Portland ;  and  we  quite  wished  we  could  share  in  that  obligation,  as  we  took 
leave  of  them,  and  of  the  lofty  child  of  Maine,  who  was  about  to  begin  a 
solitary  ride  on  the  stage  road  to  Bangor.  All  in  all,  the  stop-over  at  Mount 
Desert  proved  a  most  satisfactory  prolongation  of  the  tour,  to  which  the  last 
happy  day  together  formed  a  most  brilliant  finale.  My  cyclometer's  record 
for  the  eight  days  between  Eastport  and  Bar  Harbor  was  171  m., —  a  distance 
more  than  double  that  of  the  route  which  was  "  officially  "  wheeled  by  the 
procession,  and  which  ended  at  Machiasport  on  Sunday  evening.  The 
official  route  amounted  indeed  to  only  80  m.,  even  including  the  return-trip 
from  Robbinston  to  Eastport,  when  fifteen  bicycles  were  carried  by  the 
steam-tug.  Its  length,  if  thus  baldly  presented  as  the  full  record  of  a  week's 
wheeling,  would  seem  quite  trivial  and  insignificant;  but  readers  of  this 
sketch  do  not  need  to  be  assured  that  mere  "  mileage  "  forms  one  of  the 
least  important  factors  of  a  week's  successful  pleasuring  when  taken  by 
three  dozen  men  on  bicycles  "  amid  the  Down  East  fogs." 

Of  the  pictures  which  were  drawn  by  H.  Sandham  (to  accompany  J.  S.  Phillips's  story, 
"A-wheeling  in  Norambega,".  in  the  Jan.  and  Feb.  issues  of  the  fVktelman,  1884)  the  most 
graphic  and  representative  ones  were  the  two  laigest,  each  of  which  covered  a  ps^,  and  served 
as  a  frontispiece  to  its  own  half  of  the  story.  "  In  the  Fog  "  Qan.)  gives  a  good  idea  of  the 
ghostly  appearance  presented  by  the  party  on  the  afternoon's  ride  to  Eastport  (see  p.  a68),  and 
its  leading  figure  Is  perfectly  recognizable  as  the  President  of  the  Massachusetts  B.  C. ;  while 
"  Rest  by  the  Roadside  "  (Feb.)  excellently  represents  the  scene  at  the  watering-trough  in  the 
Campobello  woods,  described  on  p.  37a  (Proof  impressions  of  these  cuts,  on  heavy  paper  suita- 
ble for  framing,  may  be  had  for  20  c  each,  at  the  office  of  Outings  175  Tremont  St.,  Boston.) 
A  little  picture  on  p.  341  gives  a  good  idea  of  "  the  Ovens,"  which  I  have  mentioned  on  the 
opposite  page ;  and  a  larger  sketch  on  p.  345  well  recalls  the  appearance  of  the  party  on  their 
winding  way  through  the  woods  towards  Machias  (see  p.  371  a$tU\  the  "  coaster  "  in  the  fore- 
ground  being  recognizable  as  the  writer  of  the  article  which  it  illustrates.  Another  notable 
picture  is  a  collection  of  the  "  heads  "  of  the  party,  framed  by  the  front  wheel  of  a  bicycle,  which 
stands  four  inches  high  on  the  printed  page.  Some  of  these  are  recognizable  likenesses,  and  I 
could  identify  all  of  them  while  the  memory  of  my  companions'  features  was  fresh.  The  heads 
number  only  34,  however,  the  absent  ones  being  those  of  the  artist  and  myself.  He  was  good 
enough,  nevertheless,  to  make  room  in  the  sketch  for  a  pair  of  boots,  whose  soles  are  inscribed 
'*  Karl  "  and  "  Kron  " ;  and  I  presume  his  inspiration  in  thus  giving  them  immortality  was  due 
to  the  fact  that,  when  "  the  photographer '  took '  the  party  again,  in  a  serrie    mass  about  the  hotel 


28o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

door  at  Lobec"  (see  p.  269),  I  insisted  on  keeping  my  head  out  of  range,  on  the  plea  that  it  was 
"  less  worthy  of  notice  than  the  only  properly  shod  pair  of  feet  in  the  party," — ^which  same 
booted  extremities  I  thrust  prominently  into  the  foreground.  If  my  face  was  photographed  at 
all  on  that  tour,  it  must  have  been  done  while  the  party  were  in  motion  ;  for  I  always  turned 
the  back  of  my  head  to  the  camera  whenever  I  had  any  volition  in  the  matter  of  defending  my- 
self from  its  deadly  aim. 

This  recollection  suggests  that  I  may  as  well  improve  the  present  opportunity  for  putting 
on  record  my  personal  philosophy  in  regard  to  the  "  portrait  business/' — for  when  a  wheelman 
in  some  remote  part  of  the  world  supplements  a  friendly  correspondence  by  an  o£Fer  to  "  ex- 
change photographs,"  it  seems  ungracious  in  me  to  refuse,  and  it  is  certainly  impossible  for  me 
to  supply  him  with  a  complete  written  explanation  of  the  reasons  which  support  my  invariable 
rule  of  refusal.  I  was  recently  amused  by  a  story  (in  New  York  TeUgrantf  July  18,  '85,  appar- 
ently copied  from  some  foreign  journal),  concerning  a  certain  Countess  de  Castiglione,  now 
living  in  Paris  at  the  age  of  about  50,  who  is  so  vain  of  her  own  alleged  beauty  that  she  keeps 
the  grand  saloon  of  her  mansion  "  adorned  with  photographs  of  herself  in  a  hundred  different 
poses  and  costumes  " ;  and  who  at  the  same  time  is  "  such  a  monomaniac  on  the  subject  of  in- 
visibility "  that  she  forces  most  of  her  distinguished  visitors  to  content  themselves  by  staring 
at  these  pictures  as  a  substitute  for  her  own  personal  presence.  One  of  her  axioms,  however, 
"  To  see  me  against  my  will  is  to  rob  me,"  rather  appeals  to  my  sympathy,  because  it  contains 
the  idea  on  which  is  based  my  own  objections  to  letting  strangers  have  my  likeness.  The  spread- 
ing abroad  of  a  knowledge  of  one's  features  tends — even  more  directly  than  the  attaching  of 
notoriety  to  one's  family  name — to  the  restriction  of  his  personal  freedom.  Why  should  I  "  give 
my  looks  away  "  to  an  unknown  number  of  people,  and  thereby  put  it  in  their  power  to  "  get 
the  drop  on  me,"  on  some  occasion  when  I  wish  to  enjoy  the  independence  attaching  to  obsco- 
rity  ?  Why  should  I  set  my  likeness  up  as  a  taiget  for  the  remarks  of  the  thoughtless  and  light- 
minded  who  know  me  not  ?  When  I  reveal  my  identity  by  a  personal  interview,  I  can  judge 
somewhat  of  the  impression  which  my  presence  makes  upon  the  party-of-the-second-part,— and 
I  can  have  as  much  of  a  hold  upon  him  as  he  upon  me,  in  case  we  ever  afterwards  chance  to  be 
thrown  within  sighting  distance  of  each  other ;  but  when  a  stranger  gets  hold  of  my  identity 
through  a  picture,  he  gives  no  return  at  all  for  the  power  thereby  acquired  over  me, — ^and  I  piv- 
fer  that  no  unknown  person  should  have  such  power.  Of  course,  a  friendly  correspondent  who 
has  sent  me  his  picture  cannot  be  classed  as  "  unknown  "  (I  prize  such  portraits  highly,  and 
shall  be  grateful  for  every  addition  which  may  be  made  to  my  collection  of  them) ;  but  I  cannot 
send  mine  in  return  without  putting  it  within  the  possible  gaze  of  those  who  tone  unknown,  and 
without  running  even  some  remote  risk  of  that  supremely  dreaded  curse :  exposure  in  a  newspaper. 
The  difference  between  showing  one's  living  face,  and  giving  away  a  fixed  copy  of  h,  is  similar  to 
the  difference  between  speaking  words,  which  vanish  into  thin  air,  and  writing  words,  which 
may  be  kept  and  twisted  into  "  evidence,"— like  the  terrible  "  ch<^  and  tomato  sauce  "  of  poor 
Mr.  Pickwick.  Litera  scripta  mauet.  This  vital  distinction  is  well  illustrated  in  the  following 
comments  concerning  a  certain  London  "  society  journalist "  whom  Lord  Coleridge  sentenced 
to  jail,  last  year  :  '*  Gossip,  like  scores  of  other  human  amusements,  becomes  harmful  by  excess ; 
and  the  objection  to  newspaper  gossip  is  that  it  is  nearly  always  excessive.  Every  man  knows 
that  his  personal  peculiarities,  his  looks,  his  character,  his  ability,  his  fortune,  his  tastes  and 
surroundings  are  a  frequent  topic  of  chit-chat  among  his  friends  and  acquaintances — ^that  is, 
among  the  people  whose  houses  he  frequents,  or  who  frequent  his,  or  whom  he  meets  at  the 
houses  of  others  of  the  same  circle.  These,  however,  do  not  number  probably,  in  the  case  of 
the  most  sociable,  or  popular,  or  best-known  man,  over  500  all  told ;  and  what  they  say  about 
him  he  hardly  ever  hears.  Most  of  what  is  said  it  would  probably  pain  him  to  hear,  either  as 
being  wounding  to  his  self-love,  or  as  indicating  that  more  was  known  of  his  private  affurs 
than  he  would  like  to  have  known.  When  this  tittle-tattle  finds  its  way  into  print,  however,  it 
undergoes  a  very  serious  change.  From  being  the  gossip  of  a  few  score,  it  becomes  the  gossip 
of  many  thousands  or  millions.  It  deprives  the  victim  of  all  refuge.  It  makes  not  only  his  wife 
and  children  but  the  servants  in  his  own  house  participants  in  the  joke  or  story  against  him,  and 


IN  THE  DOWN--EAST  FOGS,  281 

foUows  him  with  ridicule  or  discredit  to  all  the  hotels,  watering  places  and  steamboats  in  the 
civilized  world.  Personal  gossip  has  undoubtedly  been  from  the  earliest  ages  the  chief  amuse- 
ment of  mankind,  and  will  probably  continue  to  be  so  as  long  as  humanity  is  the  chief  interest  of 
human  beings.  It  was  comparatively  harmless,  as  lung  as  it  had  to  be  spread  by  word  of  mouth ; 
but '  society  newspapers '  have  undertaken  to  erect  factories  in  which  gossip  is  prepared  for  the 
market  amd  spread  by  steam  machinery, — and  any  of  it  that  is  harmful  is  terrib!y  harmful.  The 
editorial  oversights  and  mistakes,  even  if  few  in  number,  deal  deadly  wounds.  To  many  peo- 
ple, too,  even  what  an  editor  thinks  a  kindly  '  notice,'  with  which  any  man  or  woman  ought  to 
be  pleased,  is  undiluted  pain  ;  for  there  are  some,  even  yet,  to  whom  publicity  of  any  kind  is  a 
simple  calamity.  They  are  probably  becoming  scarcer  as  the  years  go  by,  but  they  still  linger 
among  us  in  considerable  numbers.  '  Society  editors '  find  it  hard  to  understand  them,  or  to 
sympathize  with  them,  but  they  are  none  the  less  God's  creatures  an^  entitled  to  humane  con- 
sideration."— The  Nation^  April  24,  1884,  p.  355. 

These  words  ought  to  make  clear  the  reason  of  my  preference  that  the  notoriety  which  is  a 
necessary  business  condition  of  my  forcing  a  sale  of  10,000  copies  of  this  book,  all  over  the  world, 
should  be  "confined  strictly  to  business," — should  attach  simply  to  my  name  and  address  as  a 
publisher ,-^withont  conferring  a  hateful  and  needless  publicity  on  my  family  name  and  on  the 
entirely  private  life  which  it  represents  and  protects.  Could  I  have  foreseen  that  I  was  destined 
to  embark  upon  a  scheme  whose  success  implied  such  world-wide  notoriety  for  the  personal 
trade-mark  representing  it,  I  would  never  even  have  allowed  my  face  to  be  "  taken  "  in  the  League 
groups,  amid  a  multitude  of  others ;  and  I  hope  no  one  will  be  so  lacking  in  "  humane  consider- 
ation "  for  my  wishes  in  this  respect  as  ever  to  drag  it  out  from  that  friendly  obscurity.  When 
personal  preferences  are  of  a  purely  negative  sort,  they  ought  to  be  deferred  to,  no  matter  how 
whimsical  they  may  seem  to  a  person  not  in  sympathy  with  them.  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that 
a  man  will  take  active  measures  to  gratify  the  whims  of  another ;  but  when  it  is  possible  to 
gratify  them  by  mere  mactivity,  by  doing  nothing,  by  "  minding  his  own  business,"  it  seems  to 
me  that  he  ought  not  to  take  active  measures  to  give  offense.  There  is  one  picture  of  myself, 
however,  which,  though  I  have  not  yet  seen  it,  I  should  be  entirely  willing  to  see  reproduced 
m  the  illustrated  papers.  Indeed,  I  gave  permission  to  the  editor  of  the  Bi.  World  to  publish 
it,  some  years  ago,  when  he  asked  me  to  stand  as  one  of  a  "  series  "  then  appearing  in  that 
paper.  His  request  chanced  to  reach  me  just  as  I  returned  from  a  ride  to  Tarrytown,  where 
the  derk  of  the  Vincent  House  had  laughingly  assured  me  that  a  "  rear  elevation  "  of  my  figure 
foraied  a  very  funny  background  to  a  photograph  of  a  party  of  "coaching-club  people,"  which  a 
local  photographer  had  taken,  in  front  of  the  hotel,  on  the  occasHon  of  my  last  previous  visit. 
Id  my  characteristic  attitude  of  "  polishing  up  the  nickel-plate,"  I  had  turned  my  back  upon 
the  "coachers  " ;  and  the  fact  of  my  entire  unconsciousness  of  being  pictured  with  them  doubt- 
less added  to  the  natural  and  life-like  quality  of  the  "  half-moon  "  view  of  my  while  flannel 
breeches  which  the  camera  perpetuated.  The  Bi.  World,  oddly  enough,  never  published  this 
"  q)eaking  likeness,"  nor  even  printed  my  letter  which  graciously  consented  that  the  same  might 
be  used  as  one  of  its  "  series."  I  presume  that  copies  may  even  now  be  procured  at  the  photog- 
rapher's shop  in  Tarrytown ;  and,  if  ever  I  wheel  up  there  again,  I  mean  to  take  a  look  at 
that  picture,  myself ! 

"  Mount  Desert,  on  the  Coast  of  Maine,"  by  Mrs.  Clara  Barnes  Martin  (Portland  :  Loring, 
Short  &  Harmon,  6th  ed.,  1885,  pp.  115,  price  75  c),  "was  written  in  Oct.  1866,  and  first 
privately  printed  in  the  following  May."  In  addition  to  excellent  photographs  of  Spouting  horn, 
Eagle  lake,  Cathedral  rock,  Otter  cliffs  and  Somes  sound,  it  is  accompanied  by  a  U.  S.  Coast 
Survqr  map  (1875,  18  by  14  in.,  i  m.  to  }  in.),  which  gives  a  complete  showing  of  the  roads  and 
the  topography  in  detaiL  An  inscription  on  its  edge  says,  "  No.  103  (2),  price  ao  cents  " ;  but 
I  infer  that  direct  application  must  be  made  to  the  Government  if  any  one  wishes  to  secure  the 
map  independently  of  the  book.  Rev.  S.  H.  Day  supplied  a  sketch  of  our  bicycling  experiences 
on  Mt.  Desert  to  the  Bi.  World  (Nov.  23,  '83,  p.  28),  supplementing  thus  the  report  of  the 
early  part  of  the  tour  which  that  paper  had  printed  (Aug.  31,  Sept.  7  and  ai,  Oct  5  and  36), 
by  "  Geesee,"  who  also  i»«pared  a  briefer  one  for  his  own  paper,  the  MarUthtad  Afetsonger, 


NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND.* 

I  BELIEVE  that  the  voyager  who  steams  oat  of  Boston  Harbor  in  search 
of  a  foreign  port  can  reach  Yarmouth  (6,200  inhabitants),  the  most  south- 
westerly one  of  Nova  Scotia,  sooner  than  any  other.  At  all  events,  the  sail 
is  only  240  m.  long,  and  can  be  finished  in  an  hour  or  two  less  than  a  full 
calendar  day.  It  was  the  steamer  *'  New  Brunswick "  which  carried  me 
thither  most  pleasantly,  amid  the  bright  sunshine  of  the  last  Tuesday  of 
August,  1883 ;  but  it  was  a  bleak  wind  and  a  cloudy  sky  which  greeted  my 
arrival  on  the  morning  that  followed.  In  my  hurry  to  be  off,  I  entirely  forgot 
the  existence  of  the  collector  of  customs,  and  so  trundled  my  bicycle  and 
baggage  quickly  away  from  the  dock,  without  question  from  any  one ;  though 
I  afterwards  learned  that  the  usual  practice  was  to  exact  a  bond,  or  deposit 
of  money,  as  security  that  the  tourist  would  not  leave  his  bicycle  permanently 
in  the  province  with  the  duty  unpaid.  Whether  the  inspector  failed  to 
observe  me,  or  whether  the  sight  of  my  white  riding-costume  convinced  him 
that  I  must  be  certain  soon  to  return  whence  I  came,  I  did  not  stop  to 
inquire.  I  only  waited  long  enough  to  put  my  valise,  duly  labeled  for  Hali- 
fax, into  the  baggage-car  of  the  train  which  was  appointed  to  reach  that  dty 
that  evening,  and  then  put  myself  into  the  saddle  for  a  five  days'  tour  thither. 
Mention  may  be  allowed  here,  however,  as  an  interesting  example  of  the 
mysteries  of  Canadian  express  management,  that,  though  the  man  in  charge 
of  the  car  assured  me  that  the  valise  should  go  **  straight  through,"  it  was 
seized  upon  by  the  agent  of  some  rival  express  at  Digby  or  Annapolis, 
shipped  thence  by  slow  steamer  to  St.  John,  and  finally  reached  Halifax,  and 
was  delivered  at  the  designated  hotel  there,  some  16  h.  after  my  own  arrival  1 
Instead  of  a  direct  ride  of  210  m.  on  the  train  by  which  I  started  it,  it  had 
been  given  a  sea-voyage,  had  traveled  double  the  necessary  distance,  and  had 
been  six  days  on  the  way. 

When  I  mounted,  at  the  post-office,  in  Yarmouth,  at  8  o'clock  on  that 
Wednesday  morning,  the  weather  was  just  about  as  dismal  and  threatening 
as  on  the  memorable  morning  in  June,  when  the  "  Down  East  party  "  disem- 
barked at  Eastport  and  took  their  first  united  plunge  into  the  mists  of  Maine. 
The  character  of  the  road  and  the  scenery  also  suggested  the  environs  of 

^From  Omtingf  April,  1884,  pp.  xi-18.  This  was  accompanied  by  a  fuIUpage  picture  of  a  In- 
cyder  (presumably  myself)  reclining  in  the  shade  of  a  Ndva  Sooda  "forest,  primeral, — the 
whispering  pines  and  the  hemlocks'*;  and  it  gives  a  fairiy  good  idea  of  the  same.  It  was  drawn  by 
Edmund  H.  Garrett ;  and  copies  of  it,  on  heavy  paper,  suitable  for  fnuniqg,  are  suf^ied  for 
so  c  each  by  the  paUiaheni  of  the  magazine,  175  Tlremont  St.,  Boston. 


NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND.     283 

Eastport,  for  my  course  led  through  a  rolling  country,  usually  in  sight  of  the 
sea,  and  an  attractive  and  ever-varying  combination  of  mountain-and-water 
views  accompanied  me  for  the  greater  part  of  the  day, — ^and,  indeed,  for  the 
two  days  following.  Weymouth,  47  m.  from  the  start,  is  the  first  town  of 
any  consequence,  and  the  first  place  where  the  tourist  comes  in  sight  of  the 
railway  after  leaving  Yarmouth,  though  it  lies  only  a  few  miles  inland  from 
his  course,  and  there  are  several  of  its  intermediate  stations  which  are 
readily  accessible  to  him.  There  is  a  pretty  view  of  the  bridges  when  the 
rider  emerges  from  the  woods  into  sight  of  the  village,  and  there  is  a  long 
hill  which  I  rode  up  with  difiiculty  and  then  rode  down  with  caution,  as  I 
entered  the  bridge.  Just  beyond  this  bridge,  at  Weymouth,  is  a  steep,  rough 
hill,  which  I  do  not  believe  any  bicycle  could  climb ;  but  it  is  the  first  real 
obstacle  that  would  compel  a  dismount,  in  the  case  of  a  good  rider  who 
started  at  Yarmouth.  It  would  be  quite  a  creditable  feat,  to  be  sure,  for  a 
man  to  cover  'the  entire  47  m.  without  stop ;  for  the  track  is  continuously 
hilly,  and  some  of  the  grades  are  long,  and  some  are  steep,  and  some  are 
rough  and  stony ;  but  good  luck  in  choosing  the  path  at  certain  difficult  places 
would  make  it  an  entirely  practicable  feat.  There  was  not  a  rod  of  the  way 
which  I  myself  could  not  ride,  and  there  was  not  a  single  one  of  my  enforced 
dismounts  which  might  not  have  been  avoided  by  a  little  better  judgment 
On  the  other  hand,  in  a  repetition  of  the  ride,  I  might  very  likely  be  forced 
to  stop  by  obstacles  which,  in  the  present  case,  I  had  the  luck  to  conquer. 
My  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  began  at  Meteghan  at  1.30  P.  M.,  and  lasted 
2  h.  20  min.,  during  which  I  accomplished  14J  m.,  including  several  hills. 
Except  for  a  mistake,  which  stopped  me  on  a  level  stretch,  I  should  have 
kept  in  motion  another  h.,  or  until  I  reached  the  bridge  in  We3rmouth;  5  m. 
on ;  for  I  was  wet,  and  had  no  desire  to  dismount  or  rest  till  I  got  to  my 
journey's  end.  The  hotel  of  Forbes  Jones  was  at  the  bridge,  but  that  of  his 
father  was  i  m.  beyond,  on  a  sightly  hill-top,  and  thither  I  proceeded,  arriving 
at  5.10  P.  M.  The  rain  was  now  falling  more  vigorously  than  at  any  previous 
time  of  the  day,  and,  as  no  other  hotel  could  be  reached  before  nightfall,  I 
decided  to  stop.  My  first  halt  of  the  forenoon  had  been  made  at  Hebron, 
4  m.,  when  the  first  rain-drops  began  to  patter  down,  and  I  put  my  coat  inside 
the  india-rubber  roll  on  the  handle-bar.  At  a  threshing-mill,  3}  m.  further, 
the  road  turned  off  to  the  r.,  and  led  for  the  first  time  into  the  woods.  Pass- 
ing Lake  Garland,  I  reached  Maitland  at  10  o'clock,  and  after  a  brief  delay, 
for  oiling  and  cleaning,  rode  10  m.  without  stop  in  the  following  hour,  and 
climbed  the  long  church  hill  at  Salmon  River  and  the  still  bigger  hill  beyond. 
Another  much  slower  hour  brought  me  to  the  scene  of  a  church  picnic,  just 
beyond  the  village  of  Meteghan,  and  there  I  made  a  lunch  on  the  moist 
remains  of  the  feast  which  the  bedraggled  picnickers  were  selling  at  auc- 
tion, or  packing  away  in  boxes.  Some  of  the  merrymakers  were  enjoying 
the  adventurous  delights  of  a  revolving  swing,  or  elevator  turned  by  a  crank, 
and  had  umbrellas  over  their  heads,  while  other  happy  pairs  were  treading 


284  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

* 

the  mazy  dance  in  very  small  booths,  or  shanties,  through  whose  flimsy  rools 
the  rain  kept  trickling  down,  in  spite  of  all  their  brave  adornment  with  ever- 
green boughs  and  artificial  flowers.  The  sight  of  all  this  provincial  pleasur- 
ing was  as  novel  and  amusing  to  me  as  the  sight  of  a  dripping  bicycle  tourist 
was  to  them,  and  we  therefore  stared  at  each  other  with  mutual  interest  and 
satisfaction.  Most  of  the  people  of  this  region  are  descendants  of  the  old 
Acadian  French,  who  returned  here  after  their  banishment  from  Grand 
Pr(i,  and  they  retain  much  of  the  primitive  simplicity  in  their  customs  and 
costumes.  The  uniformity  with  which  all  the  women  and  little  girls  keep 
their  faces  bandaged  up,  in  a  sort  of  nun-like  head-gear,  at  once  attracts 
notice.  Few  understand  the  English  language ;  but,  as  "  money "  is  the 
language  of  church  picnics  everywhere,  my  wants  were  quickly  supplied. 

Bright  sunshine  prevailed  on  Thursday  morning,  but,  as  the  rain  had  con- 
tinued to  fall  heavily  during  a  good  part  of  the  night,  and  as  nobody  in  Nova 
Scotia  ever  thinks  of  taking  breakfast  before  8  o'clock,  I  was  in  no  special 
hurry  about  getting  started  from  Weymouth ;  and  it  was  a  quarter  past  lo 
when  I  said  good-bye  to  the  representatives  of  the  Jones  family,  who  had  eiK 
tertained  me  in  such  hospitable  and  friendly  fashion  as  to  make  me  feel  quite 
at  home.  A  mistaken  detour  along  the  shore-road,  which  proved  rather 
rough,  resulted  in  bringing  me  back  to  the  main  road  at  a  point  3  m.  from  the 
start,  though  I  had  covered  double  that  distance,  in  i  J  h.  Ten  m.  beyond,  at 
I.I 5  P.  M.,  I  stopped  for  lunch  when  confronted  by  the  sign  1  "  L.  Fontaine. 
Entertainment.  Meals  at  all  hours."  The  road  at  this  point  was  excellent, 
and  almost  continuously  overlooked  St.  Mary's  Bay,  affording  varied  views  of 
its  waters  and  of  the  lofty  ridges  of  Digby  Neck  beyond ;  but  there  now  fol- 
lowed I  m.  of  riding  through  the  forest,  and  I  then  turned  off  to  the  1.  and 
passed  under  the  railway,  instead  oi  keeping  straight  on  towards  Annapolis. 
Two  m.  beyond  I  reached  the  road  which  I  intended  to  take  for  that  city,  but, 
before  taking  it,  I  made  a  detour  down  to  Digby  (1,800  inhabitants),  and 
when  I  came  back  to  the  fork  again,  1}  h.  later,  the  cyclometer  recorded  4  m. 
From  Digby  I  might  have  gone  backward  along  the  w.  side  of  St.  Mary's 
Bay,  first  on  Digby  Neck  and  then  on  Long  Island,  and  thence  have  crossed 
by  ferry  to  Meteghan  (which  would  have  made  a  pleasant  round  trip  from 
Yarmouth  of  about  1 50  m.,  with  less  than  30  m.  of  repetition),  or  I  might  have 
been  ferried  across  the  channel  to  the  Granville  side,  and  have  proceeded  along 
the  base  of  North  mountain  to  the  village  of  that  name,  which  is  opposite 
Annapolis,  and  to  Bridgetown,  about  16  m.  beyond.  The  channel  in  question 
allows  ships  from  the  Bay  of  Fundy  to  approach  Digby  and  the  Annapolis 
Basin,  a  long,  land-locked  bay  on  which  the  village  of  that  name  is  situated. 
North  mountain  is  the  name  of  the  ridge,  600  to  700  ft.  high,  which  forms  the 
coast-line  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy  for  8  m.  or  more  to  the  n.  e.  of  Digby,  until  it 
terminates  in  the  headland  called  Blomidon  and  Cape  Split.  South  mount- 
ain is  the  corresponding  ridge,  300  to  500  ft.  high,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
basin  and  valley  of  Annapolis.    The  two  ranges  are  about  a  half-dozen  m. 


NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND,     285 

apart  at  Digby,  and  converge  somewhat  as  they  approach  Annapolis ;  but  they 
afterwards  diverge  rapidly,  so  that,  to  the  eastward  of  Lawrencetown,  a  flat 
plain,  15  or  20  m.  wide,  is  included  between  them. 

It  was  7.30  P.  M.  when  I  reached  the  Dominion  Hotel,  opposite  the  rail- 
road station  in  Annapolis  (1,200  inhabitants),  and  I  had  been  3^  h.  in  doing 
the  20  m.  which  began  at  the  fork  in  the  road  outside  of  Digby.  That  town 
was  still  in  plain  sight  when  I  crossed  Victoria  bridge,  7  m.  on  ;  and  even  3 
m.  later  I  had  a  view  of  it  from  a  hill-top.  Two  m.  beyond  this  I  descended 
a  long  hill  into  Clemensport,  and  rode  up  a  still  longer  one ;  soon  after  which, 
on  the  water  level,  I  met  with  a  few  rods  of  deep  sand,  the  first  obstacle  of 
that  sort  which  I  encountered  on  my  tour.  My  record  for  that  second  day, 
which  comprised  several  excellent  stretches  of  roadway,  and  offered  surpris- 
ingly few  reminders  of  the  last  night's  heavy  storm,  was  44}  m.  It  led  me 
through  a  pleasant  and  prosperous  region,  abounding  in  gardens  and  orchards ; 
and  even  the  long  lines  of  the  fishing  pounds  and  the  acres  of  black  mud  in  the 
tide-ways  were  rather  agreeable  to  look  upon  by  reason  of  their  novelty.  The 
ready  accessibility  of  these  great  beds  of  black  gravel,  which  are  left  uncov- 
ered by  the  receding  tides  in  the  rivers  and  basins,  doubtless  accounts  in 
large  degree  for  the  aVierage  excellence  of  the  roads  in  that  part  of  Nova 
Scotia.  Rain  again  fell  during  the  night,  and  a  heavy  mist  threatened  me 
with  more  when  I  mounted  at  9  on  the  following  morning,  and  took  a  turn 
through  the  deserted  fortress,  as  a  preliminary  to  the  resumption  of  my  jour- 
ney. A  fine  view  was  had  there,  and  also  from  the  summit  of  Round  hill,  7 
m.  on,  and  the  latter  included  Annapolis,  which  refused  to  be  banished  from 
sight  almost  as  persistently  as  Digby  had  refused  on  the  previous  afternoon. 

Bridgetown,  9  m.  beyond  Round  hill,  contains  a  Grand  Central  Hotel, 
which  charged  me  half  a  dollar  for  a  very  poor  dinner.  I  was  told  there  also 
that,  by  taking  the  ferry  across  from  Annapolis  to  Granville,  I  might  have 
had  an  equally  smooth  road,  and  avoided  much  hill-climbing.  The  track 
thence  grew  somewhat  poorer  and  softer  as  I  advanced  to  the  village  of  Para- 
dise, 5  m.,  and  Lawrencetown,  3  m.;  and  at  the  latter  point  I  took  train  for 
25  m.  through  a  fiat,  barren,  and  uninteresting  country,  whose  roads  were  too 
sandy  for  riding,  though  the  "  back  road,"  along  the  base  of  North  mountain, 
was  said  to  be  harder.  The  2  h.  ending  at  6.30  o'clock  sufficed  for  my  prog- 
ress from  Berwick  to  Kentville  (3,000  inhabitants),  about  a  dozen  m.;  though 
mach  walking  would  have  been  necessary  except  for  the  recent  rain,  and  I 
might,  perhaps,  wisely  have  kept  to  the  train  for  the  entire  distance.  The 
Comwallis  valley  begins  at  Berwick,  however,  and  the  sun  was  once  more 
shining  brightly  as  I  turned  I.  from  the  railway  station  towards  that  village, 
though  I  might  also  have  gone  to  the  r.,  along  the  post-road,  instead  of  enter- 
ing it  at  a  point  5  m.  further  on.    My  day's  record  was  34  m. 

Clear,  bracing  air  and  a  cloudless  sky  supplied  ideal  atmospheric  con- 
ditions for  riding  on  Saturday  morning,  as  I  sped  gayly  along  a  most  ex- 
cellent course  from  Kentville,  through  the  academic  town  of  Wolfville  (800 


286         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

inhabitants),  and  the  village  of  Horton,  to  the  railroad  station,  on  the  historic 
site  of  Grand  Pr§.  Here  I  turned  about,  for  the  sake  of  climbing  a  hill  over- 
looking the  place  (though  I  might  more  readily  have  reached  this  summit  at 
the  outset  by  continuing  straight  up  a  broad,  disused  road,  instead  of  swing- 
ing off  to  the  right  on  the  smooth  track  leading  to  Horton),  and  I  devoted  an 
hour  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  prospect  and  of  my  guide-book's  presentation  of 
the  rhapsodies  which  it  had  inspired  in  former  tourists.  Then  I  jogged  down 
to  the  railroad-crossing  again,  and  so  through  the  "great  meadow,"  which  the 
early  Acadians  reclaimed  from  the  tides  by  dikes,  until  I  reached  the  ever- 
green-shaded elevation  called  Long  Island,  and  the  shore  of  the  famous  Basin 
of  Minas.  The  clay  wagon-paths  across  the  meadows  were  all  ridable,  though 
too  rough  for  swift  or  pleasant  riding,  and  I  returned  by  a  new  route,  and 
made  many  detours  in  getting  past  Horton  to  the  foot  of  the  long  incline 
called  Horton  Mountain,  from  the  summit  of  which  another  fine  view  was  en- 
joyed. The  ascending  path  was  quite  smooth,  and  I  rode  the  whole  of  it, 
dismounting  once  for  a  team,  but  the  downward  slope  of  2  or  3  m.  was  softer 
and  rougher,  so  that  I  should  have  walked  most  of  it  had  I  been  touring  in 
the  other  direction.  I  tarried  a  while  for  lunch  at  Hantsport,  and  devoted 
the  2  h.  ending  at  6  P.  M.  to  wheeling  thence  to  Windsor  (3,000  inhabitants),. 
8  m.,  over  an  uninteresting  and  difficult,  though  continuously  ridable,  road, 
which  led,  for  the  most  part,  through  the  woods,  and  which  would  have  been 
hammered  into  smoother  condition  by  the  usual  wagon  traffic  had  not  this 
been  for  some  months  diverted  into  another  route  because  of  a  broken  bridge. 
King's  College — ^the  oldest  one  now  existing  in  the  whole  Dominion  of 
Canada,  having  been  founded  in  1788 — stands  on  one  of  the  hills  of  Windsor; 
and  the  town  itself,  occupying  a  promontory  at  the  intersection  of  two  rivers, 
impressed  me  as  the  prettiest  and  most  attractive  one  that  I  saw  in  Nova 
Scotia.  Most  of  its  streets  and  outlying  roads  are  smoothly  macadamized, 
and  I  made  trial  of  them  to  the  extent  of  nearly  8  m.,  in  company  with  a 
couple  of  local  wheelmen, — ^fellow-tourists  of  mine  in  the  Down-East  party  of 
June, — who  met  me  by  appointment  when  I  reached  the  Victoria  Hotel,  and 
who  agreed  to  escort  me  at  least  a  part  of  the  way  to  Halifax  on  the  follow- 
ing morning.  My  cyclometer  recorded  47  m.  on  that  fourth  day  of  the  toor, 
and  lacked  but  i^  m.  of  reaching  the  same  distance  on  the  fifth. 

The  character  of  that  fifth  day's  rimng,  which  completed  the  run  o£  218 
m.  from  Yarmouth,  and  which  was  mostly  done  in  the  fog  and  rain,  may  be 
inferred  from  the  description  of  the  region  given  in  '^Baddeck,"  by  Charles 
Dudley  Warner :  "  Indeed,  if  a  man  can  live  on  rocks,  like  a  goat,  he  may 
settle  anywhere  between  Windsor  and  Halifax.  With  the  exception  of  a 
wild  pond  or  two,  we  saw  nothing  but  rocks  and  stunted  firs  for  45  m.,— a 
monotony  unrelieved  by  one  picturesque  feature."  An  hour's  swift  spin  of  8 
m.,  ending  at  8  o'clock  in  the  morning,  brought  us  to  the  end  of  the  level 
stretch  of  roadway  leading  from  Windsor ;  and  there,  in  the  mist,  which  had 
been  constantly  growing  denser,  until  it  was  now  almost  like  rain,  my  escort 


NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND,     287 

bade  me  farewell  and  whirled  their  wheels  homeward  towards  the  town  of 
seven  churches.  I  then  surprised  myself  by  going  without  stop  for  5}  m.  in  i  h. 
10  min.,  though  the  ascent  was  almost  continuous  for  the  first  2  or  3  m.,  and 
much  of  the  remaining  distance  was  rough  and  slippery  on  account  of  the  rain. 
Thence  I  rode  by  short  stretches  to  the  railroad  station  called  Mount  Uniacke, 
6}  m.,  where  I  made  a  brief  pause  for  a  glass  of  milk,  and  then  started  forth 
in  a  shower,  which  gave  me  a  thorough  wetting.  It  was  exactly  noon  when  I 
stopped  for  another  drink  of  milk  at  a  point  4  m.  beyond  this;  and  I  esti- 
mated that  the  forenoon's  journey  of  24  m.  had  not  required  more  than  |  m. 
of  walking,  spite  of  the  many  dismounts  demanded  by  the  slippery  and  diffi- 
cult track.  I  walked  much,  however,  for  the  first  4  m.  of  the  afternoon,  until 
I  struck  a  stretch  of  black  gravel,  before  reaching  the  place  with  the  sign 
*'  16-Mile  House";  but  then  was  able  to  ride  without  stop  for  more  than  i^  m. 
Following  this  came  4  m.  of  toiling  through  the  mud,  mostly  on  foot,  until  I 
reached  the  level  of  a  running  stream  or  river.  A  mile  beyond  this  I  came 
to  the  rifle  range,  and  then,  after  a  similar  interval,  to  the  Hotel  Bellevue, 
opposite  the  r.  r.  station  at  Bedford,  where  I  stopped  \  h.,  in  the  midst  of  a* 
heavy  drizzle,  to  partake  of  a  lunch,  which  supplied  the  first  food  more  sub- 
stantial than  milk  that  I  had  during  the  journey.  In  dry  weather,  the  road 
from  this  point  along  the  shores  of  the  Bedford  Basin  to  the  Four-Mile 
House,  and  thence  in  to  the  city,  is  a  good  one ;  and  in  spite  of  the  mud  and 
stones,  which  caused  frequent  stops,  I  rode  nearly  all  of  it.  There  was 
very  little  rain  falling  during  this  final  pull,  but  a  dense  fog  enshrouded  the 
town  when  I  finished  my  ride  at  the  door  of  the  Halifax  Hotel,  just  after  6 
o'clock.  My  course  through  the  forest  had  not  led  past  very  many  houses,  ^ 
nor  been  enlivened  by  very  many  extended  outlooks,  but,  on  a  pleasant  day, 
it  could  hardly  be  considered  so  desperately  monotonous  as  the  correspond- 
ing railway  ride  described  in  "  Baddeck." 

Mist  and  showers  prevailed  by  turns  during  all  the  next  day,  but  I 
managed  in  spite  of  them  to  ride  20  m.  in  the  city  streets  before  embarking 
on  the  steamer  *'  Worcester,"  which  sailed  at  6  o'clock,  just  as  the  setting 
sun  began  to  shine.  My  longest  spin  was  to  Point  Pleasant,  a  park  of  ever- 
green trees  which  lies  between  the  harbor  and  the  river-like  inlet  called 
the  Northwest  Arm,  stretching  therefrom  for  4  m.,  to  within  2  m.  of  the 
Bedford  Basin.  The  shore  road  leading  to  this  park,  and  the  many  inter- 
secting roads  within  it,  are  macadamized  to  such  an  ideal  degree  of  smooth- 
ness that  even  a  very  hard  rain  will  not  make  them  perceptibly  sticky ;  but 
in  this  paradise  I  took  the  first  tumble  of  the  entire  tour,  while  carelessly 
swinging  my  legs  over  the  handle-bar  on  a  down-grade.  At  7  o'clock  of 
Saturday  morning,  five  days  later,  when  the  ''  Worcester,"  after  a  voyage  of 
6}o  m.,  was  once  more  lashed  to  the  dock  in  Halifax,  several  of  the  local 
wheelmen  dragged  me  from  my  state-room  to  breakfast  with  them  ashore, 
and  then  take  a  spin  through  the  Public  Gardens,  ol  whose  floral  beauties 
the  city  is  justly  proud.    Afterwards  I  went  alone  along  the  street  which 


288  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

followed  the  shore  of  the  Bedford  Basin,  to  the  little  post-office,  whose  sign 
read  "3-Mile  House,"  where  I  crossed  the  road  by  whiph  I  entered  the  city 
on  Sunday,  and  proceeded  2  m.  to  the  Seaside  House,  on  the  extremity  of 
"  the  arm."  Mounting  there  I  rode  up  a  steep  and  difficult  hill,  and  continued 
without  stop  along  the  Chester  road,  5J  m.,  to  Governor's  Lake.  The  return 
to  "  the  arm  '*  was  also  made  without  dismount,  and  more  easily,  in  |  h.,  and 
thence  up  the  long  hill  to  the  Citadel,  and  so  to  the  Halifax  Hotel,  2  m., 
in  season  for  dinner.  Sixty  cents  was  the  price  charged  for  this  excellent 
repast,  and,  though  the  rate  per  day  is  only  |2,  there  is  no  other  hotel  in  all 
Nova  Scotia  whose  terms  are  so  expensive.  In  other  words,  the  hotels  of 
the  province  are  very  cheap  and  very  poor,  when  judged  by  the  New  York 
standard.  The  village  of  Chester  is  45  m.  from  Halifax  by  the  shore  road, 
and  the  beautiful  St.  Margaret's  Bay,  at  about  the  middle  point,  is  the  only 
intermediate  place  of  any  consequence.  According  to  the  guide-book,  the 
stage  road  "  runs  along  its  shore  southwesterly  for  1 1  m.,  sometimes  along- 
side of  beaches  of  dazzling  white  sand,  then  by  shingly  and  stony  strands  on 
«rhich  the  embayed  surf  breaks  lightly,  and  then  by  the  huts  of  fishermen's 
hamlets,  with  their  boats,  nets,  and  kettles  by  the  roadside."  I  was  told 
that  the  entire  road  to  Chester  was  f. airly  practicable  for  bicycling,  and  that 
Halifax  wheelmen  have  several  times  traversed  the  first  half  of  it  as  far  as 
St.  Margaret's  Bay.  The  quarter  of  that  first  half,  which  I  myself  traversed 
without  dismount,  as  before  described,  led  through  a  "  dreary  and  thinly 
settled  region,"  covered  by  the  stunted  second-growths  of  forests  which  had 
once  been  cut  off ;  and  the  occupant  of  the  sole  house  at  Governor's  Lake, 
which  is  one  of  a  series  of  connected  ponds  that  form  the  water-supply  of 
Halifax,  assured  me  that  the  character  of  the  roadway  and  scenery  remained 
unchanged  for  the  next  15  m.,  ending  at  the  bay.  From  Chester,  along  Ma- 
hone  Bay,  to  Lunenburg,  is  24  m.,  and  the  steamer  of  the  Yarmouth  line  for 
Boston  may  be  taken  at  the  latter  point,  or  at  Liverpool,  about  30  m.  beyond, 
though  the  stage  road  connecting  the  two  ports  is  described  as  '*  traversing 
a  dreary  and  dismal  inland  region,  inhabited  by  Germans  whose  chief  indus- 
try is  lumbering." 

From  Liverpool  to  Yarmouth,  104  m.,  "  the  road  runs  along  the  heads 
of  the  bays  and  across  the  intervening  strips  of  land  " ;  and  I  was  told  by 
teamsters,  who  professed  to  have  been  over  it,  that,  though  very  hilly,  it  is 
smooth  and  hard.  Shelbume,  Port  Latour,  and  Barrington  are  intermediate 
ports,  from  which  access  may  be  had  to  Halifax  by  weekly  steamer.  Had 
time  allowed  I  should  have  tried  wheeling  from  the  last  named  city,  by  the 
route  just  indicated,  back  to  the  port  where  I  first  landed,  and  thus  have 
completed  a  round  trip  of  about  450  m.  The  route  actually  traversed  by 
me,  from  Yarmouth  to  Halifax,  when  laid  down  on  the  map,  appears  to  form 
very  nearly  the  arc  of  a  circle,  and  the  proposed  return  route  may  be  said, 
in  a  rough  way,  to  form  the  chord  of  the  same.  .  The  intermediate  region 
included  between  these  lines  contains  many  lakes  and  rivers ;  but  is  so  thinly 


NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND.     289 

peopled  that  it  may  be  generally  designated  as  a  wilderness,  and  the  few 

cross-roads  which  intersect  it  are  none  of  them  good  enough  for  the  bicycle. 

As  to  the  other  half  of  the  Nova  Scotia  peninsula,  I  am  inclined  to  believe 

that  its  coast  line,  to  the  n.  e.  from  Halifax,  might  be  pleasantly  explored  on 

the  wheel,  by  the  road  which  crosses  the  bays  and  inlets  at  a  disUnce  from 

the  ocean  of  from  2  to  lo  m.,  until  it  turns  inland  to  Guysboro',  at  the  head 

of  Chcdabucto  Bay.    Thence  the  road  to  the  Strait  of  Canso,  and  along  it, 

through  Port  Mulgrave  to  Tracadie  and  Antigonish,  is  presumably  good ;  and 

the  presence  of  40  or  50  bicyclers  in  the  latter  town  is  a  voucher  for  the 

general  excellence  of  its  local  roadways,  and  perhaps  also  for  the  particular 

one  which  reaches  along  the  north  coast  around  to  Pictou.    This  is  the  place 

where  the  steamer  sails  for  ports  in  Prince  Edward  Island,  20  m.  to  the  n., 

and  it  is  the  terminus  of  the  railroad  from  Halifax,  along  whose  general  line 

runs  a  highway,  by  which  the  tourist  could  doubtless  wheel  back  to  that  city, 

and  thus  complete  a  round  trip  of  perhaps  250  m. ;  or  he  might  go  directly 

across  from  Pictou  to  Truro,  40  m.,  and  from  there  follow  the  shores  of  the 

Basin  of  Minas  and  the  river  Avon  to  Windsor;  or  he  might  follow  the 

general  line  of  the  n.  coast,  at  some  distance  inland,  to  Amherst,  about  100 

ra.;    thence  go  southward  to   Parrsboro*,  30  m.,  and  from    there  follow 

the  n.  shore  of  the  Basin  of  Minas  back  to  Truro.     Some  difficult  places 

would  doubtless  be  found  on  these  suggested  routes ;  but  I  have  sufficient 

faith  in  their  general  excellence  to  be  willing  to  try  them  if  I  had  the  chance. 

As  the  steamship  line  to  which  the  "  Worcester  **  belongs  is  organized 

under  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  the  ship  is  not  allowed  to  carry  on  any 

traffic  between  one  Canadian  port  and  another,  but  only  between  a  Canadian 

and  a  United  States  port.    The  agent,  however,  though  forbidden  by  law  of 

the  Dominion  from  selling  me  a  passage  from  Halifax  to  Charlottetown,  on 

Prince  Edward  Island,  kindly  consented,  in  selling  me  a  passage  "from 

Halifax  to  Boston,"  to  let  me  go  aboard  the  ship  on  her  outward  voyage  to 

that  island.  My  voyage  began,  as  already  described,  in  the  light  of  a  brilliant 

sunset  which  marked  the  close  of  a  two  days*  period  of  rain  and  fog ;  and  the 

continuance  of  perfect  weather  on  Tuesday  made  the  passage  through  the 

Strait  of  Canso  a  pleasure  long  to  be  remembered.    An  hour's  halt  for  the 

discharge  of  freight  at  Port  Hawkesbury,  about  midday,  allowed  me  to  enjoy 

5  m.  of  wheeling  on  the  roads  of  the  island  of  Cape  Breton,  and  a  two  hours* 

stop  there,  Friday  morning,  while  on  the  return  voyage,  gave  me  a  chance  to 

do  twice  that  distance.    On  this  second  occasion  I  ventured  to  go  up  the 

coast  as  far  as  the  bridge  at  Port  Hastings;  and  I  was  assured  that  the  same 

smooth  road  of  powdered  rock  ran  along  the  coast,  in  sight  of  the  water,  to 

the  "  jumping  off  place  "  at  Cheticamp,  75  m.  northward.     I  hope  some  time 

to  explore  it,  and,  on  the  return  trip,  to  cross  from  Salmon  River  to  Baddeck, 

and  try  the  roads  along  the  Bras  d'Or  Lakes.   I  think  it  would  be  practicable, 

with  occasional  resort  to  the  steamers,  to  wheel  from  Baddeck  to  Sidney  and 

Louisburg,  and  then  back  by  St.  Peters  and  Isle  Madame,  to  the  starting- 
19 


290         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

point  at  Port  Hawkesbury.  All  the  testimony  I  coald  find  agreed  as  to  the 
hardness  of  the  roads  and  the  absence  of  sand ;  but  it  is  to  be  feared  that  in 
some  places  there  has  been  insufficient  wheel  traffic  to  grind  down  the  in- 
equalities of  the  rocky  surface.  The  obtaining  of  suitable  food  in  so  thinly 
populated  a  region  might  also  be  a  matter  of  some  little  difficulty ;  but,  on 
the  whole,  I  recommend  Cape  Breton  as  an  attractive  field  for  the  ad- 
venturous tourist.  His  wheel  will  be  sure  to  be  everywhere  greeted  as  a 
wonder-compelling  novelty,  even  though  the  honor  of  being  **  first  on  the 
island  "  has  already  been  snatched  away  by  "  No.  234.'* 

I  cannot  pretend  to  claim  for  it  a  similar  fame  in  respect  to  Prince 
Edward  Island,  for  a  bicycle  had  been  ridden  in  the  streets  of  Charlottetown 
by  a  youthful  summer  visitor,  during  a  week  or  two  of  the  previous  season ; 
but  I  think  I  am  the  first  bicycler  who  ever  took  a  tour  there,  and  it  will  not 
seem  very  surprising  if,  for  some  considerable  time  at  least,  I  also  prove  to 
be  the  last.  It  may  fairly  be  said  of  the  island  roadways  that  they  are  not 
by  any  means  so  bad  as  they  look,  for  a  wheelman  who  inspected  them  from 
a  window  of  a  railroad  train  would  declare  at  once  that  they  were  entirely 
prohibitory  to  bicycling.  The  soil  is  a  reddish  sandy  clay,  but  very  fertile  and 
productive,  so  that  there  is  usually  a  thick  growth  of  grass  close  up  to  the 
wagon  ruts ;  and  when  the  ruts  themselves  are  too  deep  for  comfortable 
riding,  their  grassy  edges  are  often  firm  enough  for  the  support  of  the  wheel. 
Outside  the  two  or  three  chief  towns,  the  road-beds  are  all  formed  of  the 
natural  soil,  and,  in  wet  weather,  many  of  them  become  little  better  than  im- 
passable sloughs ;  whereas,  in  dry  weather,  most  of  them  are  ridable,  and 
some  of  them  supply  quite  excellent  stretches  of  riding.  **  The  island  has 
109,000  inhabitants,  and  an  area  of  2,133  square  miles,  its  extreme  leng^th 
being  130  m.  and  its  breadth  34  m.  The  soil,  which  is  mostly  derived  from 
red  sandstone,  is  kept  in  a  high  state  of  cultivation,  and  nearly  all  the  popu- 
lation is  rural.  The  surface  is  low  or  gently  undulating,  with  small  hills  in 
the  central  parts,  and  the  scenery  is  quiet,  broken  every  few  miles  by  the  blue 
expanses  of  the  broad  bays  and  salt-water  lagoons.  The  air  is  balmy  and 
bracing,  and  the  most  abundant  trees  are  the  evergreens.  A  conflict  of 
opinion  exists  with  regard  to  the  scenery,  some  travelers  having  greatly  ad- 
mired it,  while  others  declare  it  to  be  tame  and  uninteresting.  The  chief 
exports  are  oats,  barley,  hay,  potatoes,  fish,  live  stock  and  eggs." 

A  tremendous  gale  was  blowing  when  I  disembarked  at  Charlottetown 
(12,000  inhabitants),  at  half-past  8  on  Wednesday  morning ;  and  I  had  no 
choice  except  to  let  myself  be  blown  by  it,  in  a  n.  e.  direction,  along  the  St. 
Peter's  road,  which  follows  up  the  Hillsboro'  river,  not  far  from  its  1.  bank, 
for  18  m.,  to  Mt.  Stewart,  a  railway  junction,  where  one  line  branches  off  to 
Souris  and  the  other  to  Georgetown.  On  the  other  side  of  Charlottetown 
the  railroad  runs  in  a  n.  w.  direction  to  Tignish,  117  m. ;  and  the  second  largest 
town  of  the  island  (Summerside,  with  3,000  inhabitants)  lies  about  midway 
on  the  line.    Spite  of  the  great  help  which  the  wind  afforded,  I  was  4)  h.  on 


NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND.     291 

the  way  to  Mt.  Stewart,  though  I  did  not  do  a  great  deal  of  walking.  I  had 
one  needless  tumble  while  trying  to  mount  in  a  sand  rut,  and  the  final  mile 
was  ridden  in  the  rain.  So  heavily  raged  the  shower  during  dinner-time 
that  I  at  first  thought  of  taking  the  evening  train  directly  back  to  town ;  but 
when  the  sun  appeared,  i  h.  later,  I  decided  to  advance  through  the  mud  and 
meet  the  train  at  a  station  further  up  the  line.  A  miscalculation  as  to  dis- 
tance caused  me  to  fail  in  doing  this,  and  I  was  also  dampened  somewhat  by 
later  showers  of  rain ;  but  the  close  of  the  afternoon  was  pleasant,  and  the 
wind,  though  less  vigorous  than  at  the  opening  of  the  day,  helped  me  to  the 
last.  At  dusk,  having  been  another  4^  h.  on  the  road,  I  had  accomplished  about 
17  m.  more,  and  reached  the  little  fishing  hamlet  of  St.  Peters.  The  hotel 
mentioned  in  the  guide-book  was  not  to  be  found  here,  but,  after  making  vain 
application  at  a  number  of  the  other  cottages,  I  was  finally  received  at  the 
boarding-house  connected  with  the  store,  near  the  r.  r.  station,  and  was  well 
taken  care  of  for  the  night.  The  weather  of  the  next  day  was  of  an  ideal 
character,  except  in  the  respect  that  the  same  breeze  blew  stiffly  in  the  same 
direction,  instead  of  turning  about,  as  I  had  hoped ;  and  as  the  "  Worcester  " 
was  appointed  to  start  on  her  return  voyage  at  5  p.  M.,  I  did  not  attempt  to 
retrace  my  entire  course  on  the  wheel,  but  took  train  to  Bedford,  a  station 
14  m.  from  the  city,  and  began  there  at  9  o'clock  a  roundabout  journey  of 
24  m.,  ending  7  h.  later  in  the  public  square  at  Charlottetown.  The  air  was 
so  clear  and  exhilarating  that  the  mere  fact  of  existing  out-of-doors  was  in 
itself  a  pleasure ;  but,  as  the  wind  was  generally  against  me,  I  was  obliged  to 
do  much  walking,  whereas  on  the  same  roads,  with  the  help  of  the  wind, 
slow  riding  would  have  been  practicable.  The  Lome  Hotel,  on  Tracadie 
harbor  (an  abandoned  experiment  at  establishing  a  "  fashionable  watering 
place,"  whose  desolate  appearance  suggested  Forlorn  as  a  more  graphic 
title),  was  one  of  the  places  visited  by  me  early  in  the  day;  and  the  best  ridiftg 
of  all  was  supplied  by  the  Maltby  road,  on  which  I  wheeled  my  last  5  m. 
from-  the  railway  station  at  Winslow.  Before  going  on  board  the  boat,  however, 
I  circled  around  the  city  streets  to  the  extent  of  2  m.  or  more.  The  roads  of 
the  island  are  for  the  most  part  laid  out  in  perfectly  straight  lines  for  many 
m.  at  a  stretch,  and  this  fact  adds  somewhat  to  the  monotony  of  touring  over 
them ;  though  the  undulating  character  of  the  country,  which  affords  wide- 
extended  views,  and  renders  occasional  hill-climbing  necessary,  supplies,  in 
turn,  by  these  views,  a  measure  of  relief  for  this  monotony.  I  am  sure  that 
the  tracks  traversed  by  me  were  fair  samples  of  the  riding  afforded  in  all 
parts  of  the  island ;  and,  though  I  cannot  especially  recommend  it  as  a  field 
for  bicycling,  I  should  certainly  recommend  any  wheelman  who  proposes  to 
go  there  to  take  his  bicycle  with  him,  and  *'  play  it  for  all  it  is  worth.*'  Were 
I  myself  to  spend  a  week  or  ten  days  upon  the  island,  I  am  sure  that  I  should 
try,  by  the  help  of  the  wind,  to  explore  200  or  300  m.  of  its  roadways. 

The  sights  and  manners  and  customs  observed  by  the  traveler  in  all 
parts  of  **  Nova  Scotia  and  the  islands  beyond  *'  differ  sufficiently  from  those 


292 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


seen  in  the  United  States  to  seem  "  provincial  "  and  "  foreign  ** ;  but  Halifax 
is  the  only  place  where  their  foreign  quality  assumes  a  distinctively  **  English  " 
tone.  The  city  suggests  a  small  edition  of  London,  and  it  is  well  worth  visit- 
ing as  a  curiosity  by  those  to  whom  the  real  London  is  inaccessible.  The 
British  flag  flying  above  the  Citadel ;  the  red-coated  soldiers  stepping  jauntily 
about  the  streets ;  the  yellow  brick  and  light  stone  fronts  of  the  buildings,  be- 
grimed with  the  smoke  of  soft  coal;  the  clumsiness  of  the  carts;  the  heavi- 
ness of  the  horses ;  the  gardens  secluded  behind  hedges  and  brick  walls ;  the 
mists  and  fogs  which  I  encountered  (though  I  believe  these  are  not  so  fre- 
quent as  to  be  characteristic) ;  the  general  air  of  solidity,  and  repose,  and 
"  slowness  " ;  all  these  things  combine  to  recall  *'  life  in  London  "  to  one  who 
has  lived  there,  and  to  create  a  feeling  of  strangeness  and  remoteness  from 
home  in  the  mind  of  the  casual  visitor  from  any  dty  in  the  United  States. 
In  some  way  it  seemed  larger  to  me  than  most  other  cities  accredited  with  a 
similar  population  of  36,000, — ^perhaps  because  all  the  other  places  in  Nova 
Scotia  are  so  small, — and  the  impression  left  upon  my  mind  was  a  pleasant 
one.  I  should  be  glad  to  make  another  and  a  longer  visit  there ;  and  I  know 
of  no  place  so  readily  accessible  from  Yankeeland,  where  the  inhabitants 
thereof  can  get  so  genuine  a  taste  of  "  a  foreign  atmosphere,"  or  so  good  a 
view  of  the  contrasts  which  English  life  and  habits  present  to  their  own.  The 
**  Worcester  "  finally  took  me  away  from  Halifax  at  4  o'clock  of  a  Saturday 
afternoon,  after  I  had  indulged  in  a  parting  visit  to  the  park,  in  company 
with  some  of  the  local  wheelmen,  and  I  disembarked  at  Boston  about  two 
days  later,  after  an  absence  which  lacked  only  a  few  hours  of  completing  a 
fortnight  During  this  interval  my  cyclometer  recorded  549  m.  of  wheeling, 
and  I  traveled  1,270  m.  by  boat  and  50  m.  by  railroad.  The  entire  expense  of  the 
tour  was  somewhat  less  than  $50,  and,  as  I  am  a  good  enough  sailor  to  have  no 
fear  of  sea-sickness,  and  was  favored  with  pleasant  weather  while  afloat,  I  en- 
joyed it  thoroughly  from  first  to  last.  Though  my  voyage  of  i/>jo  m.  on  the 
**  Worcester  "  kept  me  afloat  on  some  hours  of  eight  successive  days,  it  also 
gave  me  some  hours  ashore  on  seven  of  those  days,  and  allowed  an  indul- 
gence in  more  than  100  m.  of  bicycling.  As  my  state-room  was  upon  the 
upper  deck,  and  I  was  allowed  to  keep  my  wheel  therein,  the  act  of  going 
ashore  at  the  several  stopping-places  could  be  done  without  delay. 

The  agent  of  the  line,  on  my  first  brief  application,  notified  me  that  a  charge 
of  eight  cents  per  cubic  foot  of  space  occupied  would  be  levied  for  trans- 
portation of  bicycle  from  Boston  to  Halifax ;  but  upon  my  informing  him  that 
the  Yarmouth  line,  by  which  I  proposed  to  make  my  outward  voyage,  exacted 
no  such  tax,  and  my  presenting  in  full  the  argument  for  classifying  a  tourist's 
bicycle  as  personal  baggage,  he  admitted  the  justice  of  the  claim  and  issued 
orders  that  bicycles  should  thenceforth  be  taken  free,  at  owner's  risk,  on  both 
the  lines  of  the  company,  to  Savannah  as  well  as  to  Nova  Scotia.  Further- 
more, no  charge  for  the  wheel  was  made  on  either  of  the  railroads  which  I 
patronized.    An  excellent  table  was  spread  in  the  cabin  of  the  <*  Worcester." 


NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND. 


293 


and  its  viands  were  extremely  well  appreciated  by  me  when  I  returned  from 
a  day  and  a  half's  subsistence  on  the  extremely  simple  fare  obtainable  in  the 
interior  of  Prince  Edward  Island.  The  officer^  of  the  ship  also  were  a  good- 
natured  set  of  men,  who  took  pains  to  make  my  stay  among  them  as  agree- 
able as  possible ;  and  the  people  with  whom  I  came  in  contact  on  shore  were 
almost  invariably  civil  and  anxious  to  please.  Whenever  I  dismounted  to 
quiet  the  fears  of  nervous  horses  the  owners  thereof  always  apologized  for 
the  trouble  they  had  caused  me,  and  berated  their  beasts  for  the  foolishness 
of  taking  offense  at  the  appearance  of  so  fine  and  beautiful  a  vehicle. 

The  direct  ihore  route  connecting  Yarmouth  with  Halifax  (the  guide-book's  description  of 
which  I  have  printed  on  p.  288),  was  explored  during  the  first  six  days  of  Oct.  '83  by  £.  Norman 
Dimodc  (56  in.},  of  Windsor,  accompanied  by  a  Mr.  Bird  (54  in.),  from  whom  I  have  received  the 
following  report :  "  Except  for  the  last  65  m.,  from  Mahone  Bay  to  Halifax,  that  direct  road 
from  Yarmouth  is  almost  unridable,  and  I  would  advise  no  wheelman  to  attempt  it  It  is  rocky 
and  very  hilly  and  runs  through  woods  that  allow  only  very  unfrequent  glimpses  of  the  sea.  The 
people  all  along  the  shore  were  very  hospitable,  and  the  accommodations  were  fairly  good,  with 
but  one  or  two  exceptions.  We  were  particularly  favored  with  fine  weather.  On  the  afternoon 
of  the  xst,  we  went  from  Yarmouth  to  Argyle,  18  m. ;  ad,  to  Clyde,  30  m. ;  3d,  to  Jordan 
River,  24  m. ;  4th,  to  Mill  Village,  45  m.,  over  the  worst  road  of  all ;  5th,  to  Chester,  45  m. ; 
6th,  to  Halifax,  45  m.  On  Monday,  the  8th,  we  wheeled  home  45  m.  to  Windsor,  whence  we 
had  started  just  a  fortnight  before.    Our  ride  that  first  day  was  to  Berwick." 

The  guide-book  which  I  have  alluded  to  and  quoted  from  in  this  chapter  is  Osgood's  "  The 
Maritime  Provinces,"  compiled  by  M.  F.  Sweetser( Boston  :  Ticknor&  Co.,  pp.  336,  price  $1.50), 
and  I  recommend  it  as  an  invaluable  companion  for  those  who  may  wish  to  explore  the  regions 
described.  The  "  third  edition,  revised  and  enlarged  "  (1883},  was  the  one  which  I  carried ;  and 
while  I  found  quite  a  number  of  statements  which  had  not  been  corrected  since  the  first  edition 
(1875),  though  really  rendered  obsolete  by  progress  of  time,  I  am  sure  that  even  a  copy  of  that 
first  edition  would  to-day  be  worth  double  its  cost  to  any  tourist  in  Nova  Scotia.  The  book  is 
modeled  after  thoae  ideally  excellent  European  guides  of  Bxdeker,  and  attains  a  similar  com- 
pactness and  portability.  It  contains  plans  of  the  cities  of  St.  John,  Halifax,  Quebec  and 
Montreal,  and  five  maps, — ^the  largest  (24  by  16  in.)  giving  the  provinces  on  a  scale  of  25  m.  to 
I  in. ;  amother  (15  by  la  in.,  50  m.  to  i  in.)  including  the  whole  of  Newfoundland ;  a  third,  the 
Acadian  land,  a  fourth  the  Saguenay,  and  a  fifth  the  lower  St.  Lawrence.  A  section  6  in.  sq. 
cut  from  the  laigest  map  contained  adl  my  Nova  Scotia  route,  and  could  be  readily  handled 
while  on  the  wheel.  These  maps  were  prepared  for  the  book  by  the  Coltons  (i8a  William  St., 
N.  Y.),  who  also  issue  a  pair  of  their  own,  exhibiting  the  same  provinces  :  27  by  18  m.  (75  c.) 
and  18  by  14  in.  (50  c.)  Newfoundland  being  included  in  the  latter. 

I  was  so  much  pleased  with  this  book  that  I  am  glad  to  advertise  the  titles  of  two  others 
of  the  same  compiler's  series  which  I  have  since  purchased,  though  not  yet  put  to  practical  test : 
"  A  guide  to  the  peaks,  passes  and  ravines  of  the  White  Mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
to  the  adjacent  railroads,  highways  and  villages ;  with  the  lakes  and  mountains  of  western 
Maine ;  also  Lake  Winnepesaukee  and  the  upper  Connecticut  valley."  Six  maps  and  six  pan- 
oramas. Copyrighted  1876,  1884  (5th  ed.,  pp.  436).  "  A  guide  to  the  chief  cities  and  popular 
resorts  of  New  England,  with  the  western  and  northern  borders  from  New  York  to  Quebec" 
Six  maps  and  eleven  plans.  Copyrighted  1873,  1876,  1884  (8th  ed.,  pp.  437).  A  fourth  of  the 
series,  which  I  have  not  yet  procured,  is  "  A  guide  to  the  Middle  States  with  the  northern  bor- 
der from  Niagara  to  Montreal  "  (8  maps  and  15  plans).  Though  compiled  by  M.  F.  Sweetser, 
these  guides  took  the  name  of  their  publisher,  Osgood,  the  recent  transfer  of  whose  business  to 
the  firm  of  Hcknor  ft  Co.,  may  perhaps  cause  a  change  in  naming  the  books.  The  price  of 
eadi  is  $1.50)  the  amount  of  information  is  very  great,  and  good  indexes  make  it  all  accessible; 


XXII. 

STRAIGHTAWAY   FOR  FORTY  DAYS.'       ' 

Physically,  a  man  is  apt  to  be  at  his  best  during  the  ten  years  which 
bring  him  to  middle-age  at  thirty-five.  Of  his  possible  seven  decades,  that  is 
distinctively  the  one  during  which,  under  normal  conditions,  his  average  health 
and  vigor  will  most  nearly  approach  the  ideal  standard.  Health  may  not 
always  ensure  ha{}piness,  but  it  is  certainly  a  chief  condition  thereof ;  and 
whoever  puts  it  in  peril  by  continuous  overwork  during  those  "  ten  healthiest 
years,"  with  the  idea  of  thus  winning  leisure  in  which  to  enjoy  himself  later, 
seems  to  me  to  act  foolishly.  "  As  we  journey  through  life,  let  us  live  by  the 
way,"  is  a  maxim  that  has  ever  been  to  me  a  sufficient  excuse  for  "  going 
slow  "  and  making  the  most  of  the  pleasures  of  the  passing  hour.  These 
theories  I  have  often  advanced  against  Philistine  acquaintances,  whose  all- 
absorbing  efforts  to  "get  on"  forced  an  indefinite  postponement  of  all 
thoughts  of  pleasuring,  and  I  have  warned  them  that  the  bodily  machine  tends 
to  run  less  and  less  smoothly  when  once  it  reaches  the  down-grade,  beginning 
at  the  half-way  point  on  its  appointed  course.  It  was  somewhat  exasperating, 
nevertheless,  to  have  the  truth  of  this  physical  law  so  promptly  demonstrated 
upon  my  own  person  ;  but  my  thirty-sixth  year  was  not  allowed  to  end  with- 
out bringing  to  me  an  attack  of  illness, — for  the  first  time  since  childhood.  I 
have  mentioned,  on  p.  62  that,  within  three  weelcs  after  this  brief  prostration 
by  malarial  fever,  I  started  to  wheel  the  400  m.  described  in  Chapter  XVI., 
and  that  no  reminder  of  the  fever  kept  me  company  during  that  pleasant 
autumn  journey;  but  reminders  of  it  did  come  to  me  several  times  during  the 
following  winter  and  springy  and  gave  a  grim  plausibility  to  the  theory  which 
an  acquaintance  kindly  propounded  for  my  encouragement.  "  That  sort  of 
fever,"  he  said,  "  never  really  leaves  a  man  whom  it  has  once  got  hold  of ; 
and  though  it  may  apparently  be  banished  by  quinine,  and  may  be  kept  out  of 
sight  for  a  long  time,  by  leading  an  easy  life  with  an  abundance  of  out-door 
exercise,  it  still  lurks  in  the  system  and  is  likely  to  show  itself  again,  under 
stress  of  any  unusual  exposure  or  overwork."  This  cheering  generalization 
from  an  individual  experience  was  denied  by  a  medicine-man  whom  I  con- 
sulted (at  about  the  middle  of  May,  when  I  was  so  thoroughly  "  run  down  *• 
as  to  despair  of  improvement  from  any  further  persistence  in  my  let-alone 
policy),  for  he  insisted  that  such  disease  might  be  eradicated  as  completely  as 
any  other,  if  proper  treatment  were  submitted  to.  In  deference  to  my  ex- 
pressed scepticism  as  to  the  possibility  of  conferring  any  permanent  advan- 

^The  first  part  of  this  is  from  The  Springfield  IVheebmen^t  Gojuiie^  November,  1885. 


STRAIGHT  A  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  295 

tage  on  the  human  body  by  the  swallowing  of  **  medicine/*  his  advice  was 
that  I  refrain  during  the  summer  from  any  great  exertion  or  activity,  either 
physical  or  mental,  and  "  exchange  the  city  for  some  quiet  country  place,  free 
from  any  suspicion  of  malaria."  I  assured  him  in  reply  that  the  only  locality 
of  that  description  which  I  believed  to  exist  in  America  was  the  saddle  of  a 
bicycle  whose  tires  were  in  the  act  of  marking  a  straightaway  trail.  Hence,  it 
was  "  by  a  physician's  advice,"  though  not  by  his  consent  or  approval,  that  I 
indulged  in  wheeling  "  straightaway  for  forty  days." 

My  journey  of  72  m.  across  the  hills  of  New  Jersey  on  the  5th  of  May, 
1884  (see  pp.  173, 174),  completed  a  year's  record  of  4,337  m.,  which  I  wheeled 
with  the  definite  purpose  of  regaining  and  preserving  health  and  strength 
enough  for  the  production  of  this  book.  The  condition  I  was  in  at  the  be- 
ginning of  that  twelve  months'  mileage  may  be  shown  by  quoting  what  I  've 
said  on  p.  195  concerning  my  ride  of  May  5,  1883 :  **  Even  after  two  days' 
rest  at  my  friend's  house,  I  felt  so  weak  and  ill  when  I  started,  at  9  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  that  I  feared  I  might  not  be  able  to  stay  in  the  saddle.  Once 
mounted,  my  vigor  •returned  somewhat,  and  though  the  heat  proved  to  be  in- 
tense, I  succeeded  in  grinding  off  23  m.,  ending  at  7  P.  M."  Between  then 
and  the  22d  of  September,  when  I  shipped  my  bicycle  from  Springfield  to 
Detroit,  I  mounted  on  49  days  out  of  the  possible  109^  and  rode  1,415  m.,  in 
New  York,  Massachusetts,  Maine,  New  Brunswick,  Connecticut,  Nova  Scotia 
and  Rhode  Island,  as  detailed  in  succession  on  pp.  iio-iii,  255-281,  130-146, 
282-293,  107-109.  By  this  time  I  had  sweat  enough  while  on  the  wheel  to 
effect  a  cure  of  the  malarial  sweats  which  had  occasionally  afflicted  me  at 
night ;  and  I  had  regained  my  weight,  and  felt  about  in  my  normal  condition. 
It  appeared  to  me  best,  however,  to  clinch  matters,  and  lessen  the  chances  of 
any  relapse,  by  staying  a  while  longer  in  the  only  American  locality  known  to 
be  "  free  from  malaria," — ^namely,  the  Perch  of  Pigskin.  While  the  preserva- 
tion of  health  was  thus  the  main  excuse  for  my  determination,  several  other 
motives  combined  to  support  it.  In  the  first  place,  as  I  had  decided  to  pre- 
pare  a  road-book  for  America,  it  seemed  desirable  that  I  should  make  a  really 
notable  exploration  of  its  roads, — should  be  able  to  demonstrate  my  oft-ex- 
pressed belief  in  their  being  continuously  ridable  for  three  or  four  times  as 
far  as  the  longest  unbroken  trail  (280  m.,  see  p.  219)  that  my  bicycle  had  ever 
previously  marked  upon  them.  So,  too,  I  was  curious  to  discover  whether  I 
could  "  ever  get  enough  of  "  touring, — whether  I  should  feel,  at  the  end  of 
\fxo  m.,  the  same  eager  desire  for  **  more  "  which  I  had  felt  at  the  end  of  my 
longest  previous  tour,  measuring  only  half  that  distance.  Still  further,  I 
was  inspired  somewhat  by  the  longing  which  oppressed  the  Indian  chief 
whom  Father  Taylor  tells  about  as  visiting  the  stately  Boston  mansion  of 
Abbot  Lawrence  :  "  Looking  around  the  splendid  parlor,  the  chief  said,  '  It 
is  very  good, — it  is  beautiful ;  but  I, — I  walk  large.  I  go  through  the  woods 
and  hunting-grounds  one  day,  and  I  rise  up  in  the  morning  and  go  through 
them  again  the  next  day.    I  walk  large.' " 


296  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

In  coming  to  this  decision  that  I  would  make  an  attempt  to  gratify  mj 
love  of  out-door  adventure  by  trying  to  **  walk  large  "  with  the  wheel,  I  had 
carefully  counted  the  chances  of  roads  and  weather,  and  had  made  diligent 
study  of  all  existing  material  for  the  selection  of  a  route  that  gave  promise  of 
the  largest  proportion  of  smooth  roadway.  The  first  annual  tour  through 
Canada  of  the  Chicago  B.  C,  the  previous  July,  had  shown  me  that  I  could 
be  sure  of  finding  300  m.  of  such  roadway  between  Detroit  and  Niagara ; 
and  an  illustrated  report  of  some  Washington  men's  ride  to  the  Natural 
Bridge  ( The  Wheelman,  Aug.,  1883,  pp.  323-331)  had  made  me  eager  to  try  that 
longest  and  best  macadamized  track  in  the  Union,  which  stretches  from  the 
edge  of  Pennsylvania  for  150  m.  s.,  through  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  to  Staun- 
ton, in  Virginia.  My  own  experience  had  shown  that  a  fairly  ridable  route 
might  be  laid  s.  e.  from  Niagara  to  the  n.  border  of  Pennsylvania,  and  I  pos- 
sessed a  printed  sketch  of  a  New  Yorker's  tour  in  that  State,  from  Port 
Jervis  through  Stroudsburg  and  Pottsville  to  Reading.  Thus,  in  thinking 
over  the  wheeling  allurements  of  these  separate  localities,  the  notion  gradu> 
ally  took  shape  in  my  mind  that  it  might  be  pleasant  to  combine  the  enjoy- 
ment of  them  all  in  a  single,  monumental  tour,  *'  from  Michigan  to  Virginia.*" 
I  did  not  feel  constrained  to  proclaim  this  in  the  newspapers,  however,  nor 
yet  to  hire  a  brass-band  and  escort,  as  a  means  for  securing  an  appropriate 
send-off.  Indeed,  I  began  the  ride  in  the  dead  silence  of  the  darkness  which 
precedes  daybreak  (though  on  no  other  occasion  have  I  ever  mounted  at  so 
uncomfortable  an  hour) ;  and  the  most  that  I  confessed  about  my  plans  to  any 
one,  in  advance,  was  a  general  intention  of  wheeling  homeward  towards  New 
York,  **  as  far  as  the  roads  and  the  weather  might  encourage  me."  I  would  not 
hamper  myself  by  even  so  slight  a  constraint  as  a  privately-expressed  deter- 
mination to  "go  through."  I  felt  entirely  free  to  abandon  the  journey  at 
the  exact  point  where  its  progress  might  cease  to  give  me  pleasure.  How- 
ever short  my  performance  might  prove  to  be,  no  one  would  have  power  to 
tidicule  it  for  falling  short  of  my  promise,  because  I  promised  nothing. 

The  next  chapter  may  be  consulted  for  details  of  my  *•  fortnight's  ride  in 
Ontario,"  which  began  at  the  Crawford  House,  in  Windsor,  opposite  Detroit, 
Monday,  October  8,  1883,  at  4  a.  m.,  and  ended  at  the  Revere  House,  in  Pres- 
cott,  opposite  Ogdensburg,  Sunday,  October  21,  at  9.30  P.  M.  The  cyclometer 
registered  a  fraction  less  than  635  m.  during  that  interval  (the  repetitions  of 
roadway  amounting  to  only  12  m.),  or  an  average  of  45}  m.  for  each  day. 
The  second  week's  mileage,  however,  was  326  (av.  46^  m.),  as  against  the  first 
week's  309;  and  this  was  much  the  swiftest  section  of  the  tour,  whose  final 
fortnight,  ending  Thursday,  November  22,  covered  only  498  m.  This  repre- 
sents the  distance  from  Susquehanna  to  Staunton,  and  is  an  average  of 
3SJ  m.  a  day.  I  was  really  15  days  between  those  two  places,  but  I  rested  on 
Sunday,  the  nth,  at  Port  Jervis.  I  wheeled  to  there  from  Cazenovia,  188  m., 
during  the  week  ending  on  the  loth,  and  I  wheeled  from  there  to  Greencastle 
(on  the  opposite  border  of  Pennsylvania),  262  m.,  during  the  week  ending  on 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  297 

the  iSth.  Of  the  three  times  in  previous  years  when  I  stayed  in  the  saddle 
as  mnch  as  a  week  (see  p.  50)  the  mileage  records  were  287,  251  and  JSa 
Chapter  XXVI^  which  describes  the  first  occasion  of  my  trying  the  bicyde 
on  21  snccessive  days  (May  16  to  June  $,  1884 ;  774^  m. ;  daily  arerage  57  a.) 
shows  the  mileage  of  the  three  consecutive  weeks  as  256^  224  and  294},— or 
518)  for  the  final  fortnight.  A  comparison  of  all  these  figures  foirly  iUos> 
trates  the  supericrity  of  the  Canadian  roads,  and  gives  statistical  soppoct  to 
my  expressed  opinion  that  the  course  of  a  i,ooo-m.  straightaway  btcrde 
race  might  be  laid  oat  upon  them,  between  Detroit  and  Quebec,  to  vot 
much  better  advantage  than  between  any  two  points  in  the  United  States. 
If  we  are  ever  to  have  any  competitions  on  this  continent  similar  to  tiioae 
which  Englishmen  indulge  in  between  Land's  £nd  and  John  OX^roat*s, 
the  Dominion  rather  than  the  Union  is  destined  to  be  the  scene  therecf. 

The  puweiful  part  played  by  the  weather  in  regulating  the  swiftness  c€ 
ont'door  riding  was  not  forgotten  by  me  when  I  said  that  the  figures  which 
represent  my  mileage  of  ten  separate  weeks  may  be  fairly  compared,  as 
iUnstratrrc  of  the  relative  ridableness  of  the  roads  in  the  different  regions 
tiavcrsed.  The  delays  caused  by  rain  and  mud  and  wind  were  nearly  eno«^ 
alike  in  the  several  weeks  to  prevent  any  serious  interference  with  the  foroe 
of  my  aigumtut.  In  ordinary  talk  about  touring  or  road-riding,  however, 
these  important  atmospheric  factors  are  apt  to  be  ignored ;  so  that  it  is  often 
cardeasly  said  of  a  rider  who  has  easily  covered  90  or  too  m.  in  a  day  that  he 
ni^  cootinBe  his  progress  straight  through  the  country  for  500  m.  in  a  woek 
or  i/xx>B.  in  a  fortnight.  How  far  this  implied  absence  of  bad  weather  is 
removed  from  probability  may  be  shown  by  my  own  experience  of  four  dis^ 
tiact  storms  in  those  fourteen  Canadian  days.  Two  of  them  were  very 
whidi  wet  me  through  when  they  began,  at  the  end  of  day » 
all  ni^t,  and  which  prevented  any  wheeling  on  tlic  fore- 
fo3:Fwed-  The  two  milder  rains  also  fell  at  night,  and  rendered 
those  roads  which  otherwise  would  have  furniblM:d  exc«ti- 
rxBng.  Eac^  mild  rain  was  the  forerunner  of  a  day  or  two  of  damp  aitd 
weaiber,  ending  with  a  heavy  storm.  There  was  still  a  fifth  rauu, 
srf  a  siiower,  which  shortened  my  second  day's  ride.  A  b(rr>it^ 
helped  me  to  get  through  nearly  50  m.  of  mud  l^Hwem 
BeEeriDe  and  Kingston  on  my  twelfth  day,  and  the  rising  shower  diftKitr^l 
Be  as  I  walked  -Ac  last  few  miles  m  the  darkness.  Two  days  iKrfwr,  wb«-n  I 
a  smi^ar  Usance  ending  at  Cobourg,  over  perfectly  sm<>«^(h  r</s4» 
I  had  the  wmd  dead  against  me ;  and  I  wa«  sIm/  Ut%tA't\ 
to  iMe  a  boacr  huaiS  dsring  my  final  day  ending  at  Prescott,  when  I  m^v 
I  14  h.  19  cover  about  47  hl,  though  much  of  the  track  was  ui^^y 

Tlie  wind  w»  cftmer  against  me  than  with  me  on  the  other  di 
I  ng^  pn^abfT  have  ridden  faster  if  faced  in  the  opposite  dlrr«  i 
iartni^    I  do  not  mention  its  weather  as  s{>e(  islty  | 
for  BO  OK  o^^  to  csnpiaiB  of  an  -  average  "  which  allows  a  certain  artM. 


— 

-    i  j-rrezj. 

_ 

^— »   «  3BC  -Indian  Mm 

i.  -.«=  -  ^Ta_d  (be  Potom 

'^^    :«3riir  tie  three  6r         ' 



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— _-rrT  iiT3  ~  show             -        -     ~        ' 

.- ;ae  several  r      .           ^    .        . 

;^    ^ourso- 

dupl     .          . 

=- -«=-»igfctawa-    -^        -         ,    '-,^ 

MS  eanb's   ' 

cir.                ^          ..    X 

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a«s£y  apoa 

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■  xl»c  time 

Eagfisb     V. 

-— ,      ""-i     "^  '^  .     ■  , 

aw^r*^  \ 

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f  ■■'  ■  -  r 

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J^ 


"""•^./TOJP  FORTY  DA  VS. 


»>--.:^;-... 


X:^' 


•v'-'.l*.- 

■  '■',;•<.,"<. 

303 

'-'^iftances  not  only  to  Philadel- 

'*Ii  those  to  Reading  and 

*  Hrick  houses,  hav- 

--  invariably 


^^'  £  brick, 

agcrstonn 

in  just  this 

made  exactly 

lough  the  625 

oE  riding) ;  and 

clcomed  me  into 

itrast  to  the  bitter 

.calher  and  soil   and 

Lid  houses,  are  the  dis- 

In  no  other  way  can 

ourist  on  foot  moves  loo 

jurist  by  train  moves  too 

articular  features  of  it ;  and 

probably  find  more  physical 


300         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

moderated,  and  the  hazy  sunshine  gave  token  of  that  "Indian  summer " 
which  was  certainly  met  the  next  forenoon  when  I  crossed  the  Potomac  and 
wheeled  to  Martinsburg  (29  m.).  So  mild  was  the  air  for  the  three  final  days 
of  my  tour  (118  m.)  that  I  jogged  through  the  Shenandoah  Valley  in  my  shirt- 
sleeves, and  I  sweat  profusely,  even  then.  A  warm,  damp  breeze  was  in  my 
face  on  the  last  day  of  all ;  and  I  had  hardly  more  than  housed  myself  in  the 
Virginia  Hotel,  at  Staunton,  when  the  rain  thus  betokened  began  to  drizzle 
down,  as  if  to  make  a  dismal  boast  of  its  power  to  prohibit  any  intended 
progress  across  the  50  m.  of  red  clay  which  separated  the  end  of  the  pike 
from  the  Natural  Bridge. 

My  tour  ended  at  5.15  P.  M.  of  Thursday,  November  23 ;  and  the  registry 
of  the  cyclometer,  from  Syracuse,  19  days  before,  was  618  m.,  or  a  daily 
average  of  32I.  Thus,  on  each  side  of  that  nine  days*  halting  place,  there 
was  a  record  of  exactly  20  days  with  the  wheel,  and  19  da3rs  of  actual  wheel- 
ing ;  but  the  first  half  of  this  historic  "  forty  days  **  showed  a  mileage  of  804 
(av.  42^),  and  the  daily  average  for  the  entire  journey  (1,422  m.,  divided  by  38) 
was  thus  brought  up  to  37}  m.  Deducting  the  several  miles  of  repetitions  at 
Detroit,  Toronto,  and  Kingston,  and  the  shorter  duplications  of  course  that 
happened  elsewhere,  I  call  my  genuine  *'  straightaway  "  trail  1,400  m.  This 
distance,  if  measured  straight  along  the  earth's  circumference,  would  cover 
a  full  eighteenth  thereof ;  and  it  was  by  far  the  longest  which  had  then  been, 
made  by  the  tire  of  a  bicycle  continuously  upon  American  soil.  I  had  an 
agreeable  consciousness  of  this  truth  at  the  time  of  the  performance ;  but  I 
was  greatly  surprised  when  experienced  English  observers  afterwards  assured 
me  of  their  belief  that  so  long  a  straightaway  trail  had  not  yet  been  made  by 
any  European  bicycler.  Much  longer  rides  have  since  been  taken  in  both 
hemispheres,  and  several  of  them  (like  H.  R.  Goodwin's  wonderful  circuit  of 
2,054  m.  during  the  first  19  days  of  June,  1885)  have  been  incomparably 
swifter  than  mine;  but  the  simple  fact  of  precedence  in  time  seems  likely  to 
ensure  my  own  monumental  exploration  a  unique  place  in  cycling  history.  It 
.makes  me  laugh  to  think  that  so  slow  and  unambitious  a  wheelman  as  myself 
should  have  held  for  a  while  "  the  world's  record  "  in  respect  to  continuous 
trails,  merely  because  I  happened  to  be  the  earliest  of  my  class  to  push  a  bi- 
cycle "  straightaway  for  forty  days."  Among  sympathetic  cyclers  of  the  future, 
who  may  examine  with  curiosity  their  then  long  list  of  long  rides,  I  trust  the 
memory  of  this  one  will  be '*  loved  all  the  better  because  it  was  tht  first" 

I  have  shown  that  its  atmospheric  hindrances  were  numerous,  but  I  do 
not  believe  that  the  "  weather  probabilities  "  of  so  extended  an  outing  could 
be  bettered  by  changing  the  season  of  it.  I  think  I  chose  as  good  a  time  of 
year  as  possible  for  the  exploration  of  that  particular  1,400  m.  of  territory. 
I  should  account  a  man  very  lucky  who  could  go  over  it  without  experiencing 
an  aggregate  of  discomforts  at  least  as  great  as  my  own.  The  intensely 
cold  air,  which  characterized  my  week's  passage  across  Pennsylvania,  sup- 
plied an  admirable  exhilaration  which  could  not  have  been  had  in  summer ; 


JITA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS. 


303 


)>.^  were  inscribed  with  the  disMnces  not  only  to  Philade!- 
x>  terminal  towns,  but  also  with  those  to  Reading  and 
,'.    Tho  villages  were  all  made  of  redbrick  houses,  hav- 
lUcrs  painted  white,  and  these  shutters  were  jnvariablj 
'  ri:tigious1r  c^cclude  the  healthful  light  of  the  sun  and  pro- 
lan  chill  inside.     Beyond  Harrisburg,  where   I   walked 
1I1C  double-bridge  which  spans  Ihe  Susquehanna,  the  coun- 
.  lat  less  thickly-settled   and  productive.     The  mountain 
'.z  a  level  line  against  the  horizon,  while  those  on  my  r. 
[.eaks  and  Spurs.     Then  came  Carlisle,  the  first  county- 
.'  Soutlicm  type,  whose  central  feature  is  a  sort  of  magni- 
r  open  square,  from  which  start  four  Ihoioughfares  into  the 
id  w.    The  public  buildings  and  others — usually  of  brick, 
Lories  high — front  upon  this  square;  and  the  effect  is  some- 
ing.    Chambersburg,  Greencaslle,  Maitinsbuig,  Hagerslown 
.irc  among  those  towns  which  I  recall  as  built  in  jusi  this 
^,ige  across  the  Potomac  at  Williamsport  was  made  exactly 
I  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence  at  Ogdensburg  (thuugh  the  G25 
'ivccn  those  rivers  represented  only  iS  days  of  riding)  ;  and 
1  summer  haxe,  with  which  Virginia  then  welcomed  me  into 
->:ienandoah  Valley,  offered  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the  bitter 
li  Canada  had  coldly  kissed  me  good-by. 
-c  vivid  and  instructive   contrasts  of  weather  and  soil   and 
\  ilieir  relations  to  men  and  manners  and  houses,  are  the  dis- 
I  of  "walking  large"  with  the  wheel.     In  no  other  way  can 
I  with  such  zest  and  perfection.     A  tourist  on  foot  moves  too 
the  country  on  a  grand  scale ;  a  tourist  by  train  moves  too 
ihc  individual  significance  of  any  particular  features  of  it;  and 
'I'lTsebacb  or  in  a  carriage  would  probably  find  more  physical 
''uctual  pleasure  if  he  attempted  to  explore  an  eighteenth  of  this 
.  iiference  "  straightaway  in  forty  days."    Furthermore,  all  such 
■sarily  miss  the  sense  of  personal  elation  which  accompanies 


302 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


of  Ontario/'  which  I  entered  at  the  outset,  evidently  supph'ed  comfortable 
homes  for  well-to-do  inhabitants,  though  it  hardly  seemed  to  me  worthy  of 
the  adjectives  "picturesque  and  lovely"  that  another  touring  cycler  has 
bestowed  upon  it ;  but,  the  further  I  proceeded,  the  poorer  grew  the  soil,' and, 
similarly,  the  appearance  of  the  people  and  their  habitations.  The  roads 
likewise  deteriorated  and  became  rougher  and  stonier  as  the  country  grew 
more  bleak  and  barren.  Its  rocky  and  sterile  nature  impressed  me  most  on 
the  final  day,  when  the  houses  were  fewer  in  number  and  meaner  in  quality 
than  ever  before, — some  of  them  being  nothing  else  than  rudely-built  log- 
cabins.  This  natural  contrast,  between  the  richness  of  the  Province  near  my 
point-of-entrance  and  poverty  near  my  point-of-departure,  was  intensified  by 
the  falling  of  leaves  during  my  fortnight's  eastward  and  northward  move- 
ment of  6oo  m., — ^for  the  luxuriant  autumn  foliage  at  the  beginning  changed  to 
bare  trunks  and  branches  at  the  end.  An  improvement  in  surroundings  was  to 
be  noticed  as  soon  as  I  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence.  My  first  day's  ride  in  New 
York  State,  30  m.  s.,  was  through  a  rough  and  rocky  region,  but  the  greener 
grass  at  the  edges  of  the  rocks  and  forests  gave  token  of  a  richer  soil  and  milder 
climate.  The  Otselic  valley,  on  my  route  from  Cazenovia  to  Binghamton,  like- 
wise suggested  fertility,  spite  of  the  snow  upon  its  hilltops.  From  Binghamton, 
I  went  up  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna  to  the  town  of  that  name ;  then 
climbed  over  the  mountains,  through  almost  40  m.  of  rugged  and  sparsely-set- 
tled country,  to  meet  the  Delaware  at  Honesdale,  and  follow  it  for  twice  that 
distance.  Between  Stroudsburg  and  Tamaqua,  I  passed  through  a  fine  farm- 
ing district,  whose  German-like  names  showed  the  ownership  of  the  "  Penn- 
sylvania Dutch."  There  were  extended  views  of  smoothly-cultivated  fields 
stretching  across  the  valley,  with  rolling  hills  beyond  and  high  mountains  in 
the  background ;  there  were  whitewashed  stone-walls  and  houses  plastered  on 
the  outside,  whose  piazzas  and  fences  were  also  whitewashed;  there  were  lit- 
tle cross-roads  taverns,  all  having  queer  oval  signs  outside,  and  sausages, 
chopped-cabbage  and  smearkase  inside ;  there  were  well-lettered  guide-posts 
at  the  forks  and  crossings ;  there  were  tidy  little  girls,  who  said  *'  good  morn- 
ing, sir,"  with  great  respect;  and  there  was,  withal,  a  woman  who  gravely 
asked  what  my  name  might  be,  as  a  preliminary  to  answering  my  enquiry 
about  the  best  way  of  reaching  the  village  hotel. 

Beyond  Tamaqua,  I  got  a  glimpse  of  a  mining  region,  where  the  mount- 
ain-sides, adorned  with  the  reddish  leaves  of  scrub-oaks  interspersed  with  the 
bright  green  of  the  pine,  made  quite  a  brilliant  compensation  for  the  un- 
sightly heaps  of  coal-dust.  A  few  hours  later,  my  environment  was  again 
strictly  agricultural,  for  I  was  gazed  at  by  a  gang  of  not  less  than  twenty  men 
who  were  simultaneously  pulling  turnips  in  a  half-acre  lot.  The  next  day, 
Reading  was  reached,  and  the  region  of  the  Cumberland  valley,  where  there 
were  broad  stretches  of  country  enlivened  by  green  wheat-fields,  and  mountain 
ridges  looming  up  on  the  distant  horizon.  Red  barns  and  whitewashed  fences 
added  to  the  general  appearance  of  neatness  and  thrift  and  prosperity.    The 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  303 

mile-posts  along  the  pike  were  inscribed  with  the  distances  not  only  to  Philadel- 
phia and  Harrisburg,  its  terminal  towns,  but  also  with  those  to  Reading  and 
I^banon,  intermediate.  The  villages  were  all  made  of  red-brick  houses,  hav- 
ing solid  wooden  shutters  painted  white,  and  these  shutters  were  invariably 
kept  closed,  so  as  to  religiously  exclude  the  healthful  light  of  the  sun  and  pro- 
duce a  deadly  autumn  chill  inside.  Beyond  Harrisburg,  where  I  walked 
about  a  mile  along  the  double-bridge  which  spans  the  Susquehanna,  the  coun- 
try  seemed  somewhat  less  thickly-settled  and  productive.  The  mountain 
ridges  on  my  1.  made  a  level  line  against  the  horizon,  while  those  on  my  r. 
were  broken  into  peaks  and  spurs.  Then  came  Carlisle,  the  first  county- 
town  of  the  strictly  Southern  type,  whose  central  feature  is  a  sort  of  magni- 
fied cross-roads,  or  open  square,  from  which  start  four  thoroughfares  into  the 
country,  n.,  s.,  c.  and  w.  The  public  buildings  and  others — usually  of  brick, 
and  two  or  three  stories  high — ^front  upon  this  square ;  and  the  effect  is  some- 
times rather  pleasing.  Chambersburg,  Greencastle,  Martinsburg,  Hagerstown 
and  Gett3rsburg  are  among  those  towns  which  I  recall  as  built  in  just  this 
fashion.  My  passage  across  the  Potomac  at  Williamsport  was  made  exactly 
four  weeks  after  I  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence  at  Ogdensburg  (though  the  625 
m.  registered  between  those  rivers  represented  only  18  days  of  riding) ;  and 
the  warm  Indian  summer  haze,  with  which  Virginia  then  welcomed  me  into 
the  matchless  Shenandoah  Valley,  offered  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the  bitter 
frost  with  which  Canada  had  coldly  kissed  me  good-by. 

All  of  these  vivid  and  instructive  contrasts  of  weather  and  soil  and 
scener}',  and  of  their  relations  to  men  and  manners  and  houses,  are  the  dis- 
tinctive reward  of  "walking  large"  with  the  wheel.  In  no  other  way  can 
they  be  enjoyed  with  such  zest  and  perfection.  A  tourist  on  foot  moves  too 
slowly  to  see  the  country  on  a  grand  scale ;  a  tourist  by  train  moves  too 
swiftly  to  see  the  individual  significance  of  any  particular  features  of  it ;  and 
a  tourist  on  horseback  or  in  a  carriage  would  probably  find  more  physical 
pain  than  intellectual  pleasure  if  he  attempted  to  explore  an  eighteenth  of  this 
planet's  circumference  "  straightaway  in  forty  days."  Furthermore,  all  such 
travelers  necessarily  miss  the  sense  of  personal  elation  which  accompanies 
the  noiseless  rush  of  the  man  who  has  hitched  the  winged  wheels  to  his  feet. 
The  exhilaration  of  this  bird-like  flight  over  an  ideally  smooth  road  can  be 
imagined,  in  part,  even  by  those  who  have  not  been  so  happy  as  to  experience 
it;  but  only  a  genuine  wheelman  can  appreciate  that  certain  grim  gratification 
which  attaches  to  the  act  of  forcing  a  bicycle's  passage  along  the  roughest 
and  most  difficult  of  paths.  It  is  the  pleasure  of  "  accomplishing  the  impos- 
sible,"— of  winning  a  victory  over  Nature  herself.  Hence,  though  I  took 
all  practicable  pains  to  include  in  my  route  the  best  roads  whose  existence 
was  known  to  me,  a  contemplation  of  the  difficulties  which  must  nevertheless 
be  conquered,  in  combining  them  into  a  single  trail,  was  not  entirely  un- 
pleasant I  had  somewhat  of  that  "fierce,  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel," 
when  I  looked  upon  the  map,  and  vowed  that  the  tattered  tires  of  my  old 


3^4 


TEX  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


**  Number  234  **  should  make  a  monumental  mark  upon  the  surface  ai  the  con- 
tinent which  it  represented.  I  fixed  in  mind  "  i/xx>  m."  as  the  proper  length 
for  this  "  continuous  straightaway  trail  ** ;  and  I  felt  as  if  the  whole  secret 
forces  of  the  earth  were  fighting  against  the  indignity  of  my  la3ring  it  down. 
"  Those  forces  have  finally  won  the  fight,"  I  felt  despairingly,  as  the  runaway 
mules  whisked  my  bicycle  away  to  seeming  destruction,  at  the  very  time  when 
I  had  pushed  it  within  35  m.  of  the  goal  (see  p.  45).  I  reached  that  goal 
at  340  P.  M.  of  Saturday,  November  10,  when  the  loo-m.  pointer  of  my  cyclom- 
eter, having  made  exactly  ten  revolutions  since  the  start  at  Detroit,  again 
stood  at  "45^"  This  was  in  front  of  a  dingy  little  tow-path  tavern  with  the 
misspelled  sign  of  "  Deleware  House  " ;  and  when  I  had  waked  the  mountain 
echoes,  and  the  sleepy  bar-tender,  by  shouting  the  "  three-times-three  'rah  of 
Yale,"  in  token  of  my  triumph,  I  guzzled  several  bottles  of  his  birch  beer  and 
ginger  ale,  in  further  honor  of  the  happy  event  The  spot  thus  made  historic 
was  Pond  Eddy,  a  little  clump  of  canal  cabins  lying  in  an  elbow  of  the  mount- 
ains. During  the  previous  2  h.  I  had  managed  to  ride  7  m.,  in  spite  of  the  mud 
and  rain.  Lofty  rocks  overhung  the  canal  on  the  1.,  and  a  stone  parapet 
guarded  the  r.  side  of  the  path  from  the  river  rolling  below.  On  the  opposite 
bank  of  it,  the  Erie  freight  trains  were  rumbling  along  the  grades  which  seemed 
steep  enough  to  be  called  hills.  Such  were  the  scenes  and  circumstances 
amid  which  "Number  234"  marked  the  completion  of  the  first  American 
bicycle  trail  of  "  a  thousand  miles  straightaway.**  Though  hot,  and  wet,  and 
tired  and  bedraggled,  I  was  happy  because  triumphant.  The  rain  storms  and 
the  snows,  the  stony  mountains  and  the  muddy  valleys,  the  winds  and  the 
sands,  had  all  been  faced,  and  had  not  prevailed  against  me.  Even  the 
mules — ^those  stolidly  omnipotent  enemies  of  mankind — had  been  foiled  in  the 
final  attempt  to  stay  my  all-conquering  tread.  I  had  warred,  all  alone,  against 
the  elemental  forces  of  the  Universe.  I  had  cut  off  a  twenty-fifth  part  of  the 
Globe's  circumference.  I  had  done  the  exact  thing  which  I  set  out  to  do. 
Though  no  other  man  knew  it,  or  might  care  about  it  if  known,  I  knew  that  I 
had  ztHfn !  The  exhilaration  of  such  knowledge  has  been  voiced  for  me  by 
these  verses  of  "  H.  H."  far  better  than  I  myself  could  define  it ;  and,  while 
the  owner  of  the  "  Deleware  House  '*  sleepily  speculated  about  the  mental 
soundness  of  this  bespattered  stranger  who  could  imbibe  such  frigid  beUy- 
wash  as  birch  beer,  preferably  to  fire-water,  I  sipi>ed  the  beer  and  thought : 

Not  he  who  rides  through  conquered  dtfn  gate  at  the  head  of  blasoned  host,  and  to  the  aound 
Of  victors*  trumpets,  in  full  pomp  and  state  of  war,  the  utmost  pitch  has  dreamed  or  found 

To  which  the  thrill  of  triumph  can  he  wound ; 
.Nor  he  who  by  a  nation's  vast  acclaim,  is  sudden  sought  and  singled  out  alone, 
And,  while  the  people  madly  shout  his  name,  without  a  conscious  purpose  of  his  own 

Is  swung  and  lifted  to  the  nation's  throne ; 
Bmi  A#  «4tf  Aof,  ali  siftgie-ktmdedt  ttp^d  mntk/M$  invii&U  ph  tvery  iidtt 
Amd,  wuiup^Ud  cf  UiM  mmltdmdtf  tkt/arc*  p/FaU  itui/kas  dargdt  difitd, 

Amde0Hgmtr*d^  tiUnily. 
Ah  I  that  soul  knows  in  what  white  heat  the  blood  of  triumph  flows ! 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  305 

The  white  flannel  of  my  riding-shirt,  which  the  rain  had  been  moistening 
for  hours,  was  not  to  be  dried  even  by  the  white  heat  of  this  thousand-mile 
triumph ;  but  the  glow  of  this  was  certainly  great  enough  to  make  the  next 
hour's  riding  very  vivid  in  my  memory.  I  wheeled  through  no  less  than  5  ni. 
of  mud  in  that  interval,  though  the  rawhide  bearings  on  the  axle  had  now 
grown  so  soft  as  to  make  it  revolve  with  great  difficulty ;  and  then  I  tramped 
through  the  darkness  (7  m.  in  2  h.)  to  the  end  at  Port  Jervis,^ncountering 
at  first  continuous  shallow  puddles  upon  a  smooth  surface  which  would  have 
been  ridable  by  daylight,  and  afterwards  stretches  of  soft  and  sticky  mud. 
The  picture  presented  at  the  Closing  in  of  night, — ^just  before  I  dismounted, 
and  resolved  that  I  would  take  no  more  risks  in  reaching  my  base-of-supplies, 
however  tiresome  foot-progress  thither  might  prove, — impressed  itself  more 
lastingly  upon  my  mind  than  any  other  of  the  many  curious  and  attractive 
scenes  encountered  on  the  forty  days'  journey.  It  was  at  a  canal-lock  in  a 
sharp  bend  of  the  mountains,  where  a  water-fall  rushed  and  gurgled,  and  a 
bridge  afforded  a  mimic  stage  upon  which  the  snail-paced  mules  seemed  to 
be  posing  themselves  in  a  sort  of  ghostly  fashion,  as  their  great  shapes 
loomed  up  with  vague  outlines  against  a  background  of  mist.  The  yellow 
lights  of  the  lower  boats  glimmered  fitfully  down  the  canal,  and  the  red  and 
green  lanterns  of  the  Erie  cars  and  switches  flashed  a  fierce  response  from 
the  opposite  shore,  as  the  trains  thundered  around  the  bend.  The  gathering 
gloom  and  darkness  seemed  almost  palpably  to  increase  with  every  turn 
of  the  wheel,  as  it  slipped  silently  along  through  the  mud,  carrying  me  nearer 
to  this  strange  scene ;  and  the  shadowy  summits  guarding  the  river's  defile 
could  be  imagined  as  coming  nearer  together,  as  if  bent  on  the  grim  joke 
of  closing  the  gap  against  me.  Somehow,  the  situation  suggested  the  Vir- 
gilian  lines  with  which  the  shipwrecked  iSneas  so  nobly  voiced  his  gratitude 
to  the  tender-hearted  Dido.  Somehow,  those  lines  brought  up  the  memory 
of  my  magnanimous  bull-dog,  and  made  me  wish  that  dear  old  friend  were 
alive  again,  in  order  that  I  might  tell  him  how  great  an  inspiration  the 
thought  of  his  indomitable  perseverance  had  been  to  me,  in  marking  the  thou- 
sand-mile trail.  Somehow,  I  felt  called  upon,  in  the  white  heat  of  my  triumph, 
— as  I  proudly  pushed  my  spattered  bicycle  down  the  muddy  path  of  glory 
which  seemingly  led  but  to  a  misty  grave, — to  do  homage  to  his  blessed 
ghost    And  so,  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  I  shouted  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains : 

"  Infrtta  dum  fluvii  currtnty  dttm  montUms  umbra 
Lustrahtni  convexa^  pdus  dum  sidtraptucet^ 
Semprr  Jionoi^  nomtnque  tuum,  laudesque  matu^uut, 
Qua  m*  cumque  vacant  terraV 

Only  one  fall  was  experience4  by  me  in  the  entire  618  m.  between  Syra- 
cuse and  Staunton,  and  that  happened  just  before  noon  of  the  final  day, 
when  I  was  within  less  than  30  m.  of  the  finish.  In  grinding  against  a  rut, 
the  front  wheel  was  somehow  pulled  out  from  under  me  towards  the  r.,  while 

I  sat  down  heavily  towards  the  1.,  exactly  as  in  a  case  of  slipping  on  the  ice. 
20 


3o6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

On  9  of  those  19  days  I  traveled  a  certain  amount  of  time  (J  h.  to  5  h.,  or 
I4h.  in  all)  after  dark;  and  I  rode  somewhat  on  each  occasion,  though 
walking  largely  predominated.  My  morning  starts  were  all  made  between  8 
and  9  o'clock.  On  10  of  the  20  days  in  the  first  half  of  my  tour,  my  night 
riding  made  the  considerable  aggregate  of  117  m.,  including  28  m.  in  the  dark 
while  completing  100  m.,  and  36  m.  in  the  moonlight  while  completing  80  m., 
— the  two  longest  day's  runs  ever  made  by  me,  each  of  them  lasting  till  after 
2  A.  M.  My  tumbles  in  those  20  days  and  nights  were  also  much  more 
numerous  than  in  the  later  and  rougher  half  of  the  tour.  Indeed,  the  very 
first  thing  that  happened  to  me  after  mounting  my  wheel  at  the  door  of  the 
Michigan  Exchange  Hotel,  at  Detroit,  in  the  presence  of  certain  qxlers  who 
wished  good  luck  for  my  Canadian  journey,  was  a  violent  header  at  a  hole  In 
the  wooden  pavement,  a  few  rods  distant.  Though  I  had  steered  clear  of  this 
same  hole  when  I  came  in,  an  hour  before,  I  forgot  about  it  in  the  glare  of 
the  gas  light ;  but  I  rode  to  the  ferry  without  further  accident,  and  I  mounted 
before  daybreak,  next  morning,  without  any  fear  that  the  mishap  would  prove 
an  omen.  On  the  second  day,  102  m.  from  the  start,  I  took  a  bad  header, 
without  apparent  reason,  while  slowly  descending  a  rough  clay  hill.  Two 
days  and  100  m.  later  I  had  a  side-fall  at  a  mud  rut.  This  was  in  the  after- 
noon of  my  loo-m.  run ;  and  in  the  darkness  of  the  evening,  35  m.  beyond,  a 
stone  stopped  my  wheel  on  a  down-grade  and  gave  me  a  slow  and  harmless 
header  over  the  r.  handle.  Then,  after  iS  m.  more  of  slow  progress  in  the 
darlc,  I  had  a  backward  fall  when  my  wheel  plunged  into  a  mudhole.  This 
vas  the  most  painful  one  of  any  ifl  my  experience,  and  as  it  happened 
after  I  had  ridden  about  99  m.,  I  thought  it  wise  to  do  my  looth  m.  on  foot. 
On  the  sixth  day,  20  m.  beyond,  I  had  a  side-fall  to  1.,  in  grinding  against  a 
grassy  slope  on  the  edge  of  a  muddy  road  ;  and  on  the  eighth  day,  75  m.  be- 
yond, I  was  forced  to  take  a  backward  jump,  and  let  my  wheel  run  down  a 
bank, — snapping  ofiE  the  right  handle  by  contact  with  a  rock.  A  few  hours 
later,  just  as  I  started  on  my  moonlight  ride  of  36  m.  to  Toronto,  I  took  a 
header  to  r.,  from  striking  a  stone ;  and  just  after  midnight,  25  m.  beyond, 
I  had  a  heavy  side-fall  in  a  rut.  In  the  moonlight  of  the  next  evening,  while 
slowly  descending  a  hill,  I  took  another  header, — ^my  last  one  in  Canada, — 
412  m.  from  the  start.  At  the  557th  m.  I  dropped  my  wheel  in  a  mud 
rut ;  at  the  663d  m.,  I  ilew  over  the  handles,  on  account  of  a  stone  on  an  up- 
grade; and  at  the  754th  m.  I  took  a  side-fall  on  a  sandy  ledge.  On  the 
forenoon  of  the  same  day  (the  seventeenth)  when  this  happened,  I  ran  a  rusty 
nail  through  the  sole  of  my  shoe  and  deep  into  my  foot,  by  jumping  down 
upon  the  board  which  it  projected  from.  This  pained  me  somewhat  until  1 
got  to  Syracuse,  but  Mras  cured  before  I  resumed  the  tour.  * 

^Physicians  baring  several  tiroes  qaestioned  me  as  to  my  possibly  noticing  any  patholog- 
ical symptoms  developed  by  bicycling,  and  as  to  my  opinion  whether  long  tours  on  the  wheel 
would  be  likely  to  help  or  injure  people  of  inferior  physique,  it  seems  proper  to  print  my  general 
answer  right  here,  as  a  note  to  this  report  of  my  longest  personal  experience  a-wheelback.    As 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  307 

My  wheel  had  thirteen  falls  in  the  first  804  m.,  as  thus  shown,  though 
I  escaped  a  share  in  two  ol  them;  and,  in  the  final  618  m.,  it  fell  once  in  ad- 
dition to  the  single  fall  which  I  had  with  it  when  only  28  m.  from  the  finish. 
The  header  which  happened  at  the  412th  vcu  caused  the  wheels  to  interfere; 
but  I  puHed  the  fork  back  into  position  again,  with  the  help  of  some  men 
who  were  playing  football  in  the  moonlight,  and  I  suffered  no  further  trouble 
from  this  fall  or  from  any  other.  Pages  43-46  may  be  consulted  for  my  report 
of  how  the  mechanism  stood  the  wear  and  strain  during  the  long  journey, 
and  of  the  accident  which  finally  disabled  it  and  forced  me  to  take  train  back 
to  New  York,  instead  of  wheeling  thither.  In  mentioning  the  clothes  which  I 
wore  (pp.  21-22),  I  have  said  that  a  velveteen  jacket  of  '79  and  corduroy 
breeches  of  '81  served  me  well  in  all  weathers.  I  might  have  included  in  the 
remark  my  flat  velveteen  hat  of  *8a  In  the  midnight  fall  which  I  suffered 
on  the  fourth  day's  ride,  the  breeches  caught  on  the  spring-clasp  of  the  back- 
bone and  were  very  badly  rent  A  tailor  patched  them  up  for  me  successfully 
in  the  course  of  the  next  forenoon ;  but  when  I  again  tore  them  into  strips, 
by  a  similar  **  catch,"  while  making  a  sudden  dismount  in  a  snow  squall,  be- 
low Port  Jervis  (Nov.  12,  about  1,025  m.  from  the  start),  I  was  forced  to  do 
the  patching  myself.  These  breeches  are  still  "  ridable,"  and  as  they  offer  an 
excellent  example  of  the  needlework  and  embroidery  practiced  by  a  man  in 
the  woods,  I  may  even  yet  decide  to  put  them  up  as  a  decorative-art  prize 
for  the  club  which  does  the  most  to  increase  the  sale  of  this  book  I 


most  of  my  tonrs  are  begun  after  an  abstinence  of  weeks  or  months  from  the  saddle,  the  riding 
of  the  first  few  days  (35  or  40  m.  each)  always  hardens  up  the  faeces,  so  that  the  act  of  expul- 
sion is  usually  rather  painful.  The  difficulty  generally  wears  off  at  the  end  of  a  week's  riding ; 
the  action  for  the  rest  of  the  tour  is  normal  and  easy ;  and  no  relapse  or  evil-result  happens 
when  a  quieter,  in-door  life  is  resumed  again.  As  regards  this  only  unpleasant  tendency  known 
to  my  own  experience  of  wheding,  my  off-hand  inference  was  that  people  afflicted  with  costive- 
ness,  piles  and  other  prevalent  rectal  and  anal  troubles  (from  which  I  have  always  been  free) 
mi^t  perhaps  suffer  an  increase  of  the  same,  if  they  exposed  their  bodies  to  the  vibration  im- 
plied in  all-day  riding  on  a  bicycle.  But  the  valuelessness  of  any  such  generalization  from  a  sin- 
gle individual  report  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  a  case  of  chronic  costiveness,  so  aggravated  as  to 
seem  almost  necessarily  fatal,  was  cured  (or  essentially  mitigated)  by  a  resort  to  bicycling,  after 
all  the  remedies  of  the  medidne^nen  had  been  tried  in  vain.  This  was  the  experience  of  a  law- 
yer of  my  own  age,  who  began  wheeling  when  I  did,  and  who  has  ridden  more  thousands  of 
miles  than  I  have,  and  whose  longest  day's  rides  have  exceeded  my  longest.  Since  the  time 
when  he  explained  to  me  his  singdar  restoration  to  health,  I  have  been  unwilling  to  admit  that 
any  man,  who  is  capable  of  walking,  will  be  more  likely  to  aggravate  than  to  cure  any  diseased 
port  or  tendency  of  his  body  by  a  use  of  the  bicycle.  As  regards  a  slight  saddle-soreness  or 
aliftueas,  which  has  sometimes  repaid  me  for  taking  a  30  or  40  m.  ride  after  long  inactivity,  I  have 
always  ioond  it  diminish  on  the  second  day  of  a  tour,  and  disappeau'  on  the  third.  Slight  super- 
ficial sores  or  pimply  ikin-blisters,  near  where  the  body's  weight  rests  upon  the  saddle,  are  apt 
to  stay  by  me  to  the  end  of  a  tour,  though  without  any  pain  or  itching.  As  I  have  mentioned  on 
p.  6x  that  the  presumed  weakness  in  my  left  elbow,  caused  by  dislocating  it  in  '79,  was  for  the 
first  dme  hinted  to  me  in  taking  some  50  m.  rides,  after  my  attack  of  fever  in  '8a,  I  am  glad  to 
awid  that  my  forty  days'  tour  seems  to  have  cured  it  of  all  tendency  to  offer  such  hints.  My  elbow 
titMiUed  IDS  not  at  all  on  that  tonr.  nor  has  its  possible  weakness  been  suggested  to  me  since. 


3o8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

My  reason  for  not  offering  them  thus  as  a  help  to  my  subscription-Ust 
(see  p.  22)  was  the  dreadful  failure  of  a  similar  experiment,  when  I  shook  off 
my  shoes,  "on  soft  Susquehanna's  side/'  and  sent  them  to  the  chief  of  the  local 
wheelmen,  in  a  box  which  was  marked  somewhat  as  follows :  "  The  enclosed 
shoes,  whose  total  record  is  1,800  m.,  and  which  are  the  first  shoes  in  America 
that  have  pushed  a  bicycle  more  than  800  m.  straightaway,  are  hereby  re- 
spectfully presented  to  the  President  of  the  Binghamton  Bicycle  Club,  to  be 
offered  by  him,  under  proper  restrictions,  as  an  annual  challenge  trophy  for 
the  long-distance  championship  of  the  club."  Alas  for  ingratitude  and  un- 
appreciated generosity  I  Only  one  subscription  was  sent  by  that  club  towards 
my  immortal  3,000 ;  and  it  has  never  yet  promoted  any  long-distance  races,  for 
the  advertisement  of  my  shoes  and  my  book  I  Beyond  Port  Jervis  I  made  no 
attempt  to  fix  upon  any  third  base-of-supplies,  as  my  route  was  uncertain,  but 
despatched  my  baggage  directly  home  to  New  York,  though  I  did  not  reach 
there  until  a  fortnight  later.  The  changes  of  clothes  which  I  carried  with 
me  on  the  handle-bar  kept  me  comfortable  enough  in  that  interval ;  as  they 
did  indeed  during  the  three  weeks  before  I  met  my  baggage  at  the  opening  of 
the  tour.  Nevertheless,  I  still  adhere  to  my  old  opinion  (1881,  p.  17)  that 
when  it  is  practicable  to  send  a  valise  ahead,  where  it  can  be  met  every  third 
or  fourth  day,  the  pleasure  of  touring  will  be  increased  by  such  action.  I  have 
praised  (p.  21)  the  lightness  of  the  silk  stockings  which  I  carried  for  evening 
wear  on  this  journey,  and  it  is  with  sincere  regret  that  I  confess  my  inability 
to  exactly  put  on  record  their  "  passive  mileage  " ;  but  I  know  I  must  have 
trundled  them  around  for  several  thousand  miles,  through  a  good  many  States 
and  Provinces.  Except  for  its  expensiveness,  I  should  no  doubt  regularly  pre- 
fer silk  to  woolen  as  a  leg-covering  in  summer  journeys;  and  were  the  heels 
and  toes  of  stockings  to  be  woven  double,  whether  silk  or  woolen,  their  value 
to  the  cycler  might  be  almost  doubled  with  but  very  little  increase  in  their 
cost.  If  any  hosier  has  endeavored  to  make  his  fortune  by  advertising  a  sim- 
ple device  of  this  sort,  as  a  protection  of  the  garment  in  the  two  places  where 
the  wear  chiefly  comes  in  riding,  I  have  not  yet  had  the  pleasure  of  reading 
his  announcement. 

Considered  as  a  scheme  for  getting  rid  of  "  malaria,"  and  storing  up  a 
supply  of  strength  sufficient  for  the  production  of  this  book,  my  forty  dajrs  of 
"  walking  large  "  with  the  wheel  proved  eminently  successful.  It  convinced 
me,  too,  that  the  love  of  touring,  like  any  other  genuine  and  healthy  enjoyment, 
is  really  insatiable.  It  grows  by  what  it  feeds  on.  The  man  who  has  a  hearty 
liking  for  it,  is  always  bound  to  want  more.  He  is  like  the  Scotchman's  dog 
that  could  never  get  enough  of  fighting.  "  I  go  through  the  woods  and  hunt- 
ing-grounds one  day,  and  I  rise  up  in  the  morning  and  go  through  them  again 
the  next  day, — I  walk  large,"  said  the  Indian ;  and  it  seems  to  me  that  I,  in 
similar  spirit,  could  never  really  tire  of  "  wheeling  large."  I  care  too  much 
for  comfort  to  sacrifice  it  in  traversing  deserts  and  dangerous  countries  merely 
for  the  sake  of  conquering  them,  while  innumerable  pleasanter  regions  are 


A 


STRAIGHT  A  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS. 


309 


waiting  to  be  explored ;  and  I  am  not  adventurous  enough  to  risk  my  life  in 
search  of  strange  sensations  and  unique  experiences,  as  Thomas  Stevens  is 
now  doing  in  Asia ;  but  I  sympathize  entirely  with  the  spirit  of  Stevens,  which 
enables  him  to  take  pleasure  in  the  process  of  buckling  a  bicycle-belt  round 
the  world ;  and  I  have  no  hope  of  higher  happiness  in  the  future  than  that 
which  would  attach  to  "  wheeling  large  "  in  foreign  but  friendly  lands,  should 
Fortune  ever  thus  allow  me  to  push  "  Number  234,  Jr."  across  such  "  fresh 
fields  and  pastures  new." 

If  this  ambition  seems  contemptible  to  the  man  whose  nature  shows  no 
strain  of  the  noble  savage,  let  him  modestly  remember  that  the  savage,  in 
turn,  looks  with  the  sincerest  contempt  on  the  ambitions  and  amusements  of 
the  highly-civilized.  To  the  men  of  my  own  age  and  generation  who  have 
now  fairly  taken  in  hand  the  political  management  of  this  continent  (though 
the  superfluously  lagging  veterans  who  were  not  "  ia  de  wah  "  have  as  yet 
generally  failed  to  get  a  grip  on  that  truth),  let  me  say  that  the  exploration 
of  the  continent's  roads  seems  exactly  as  creditable.  I  wish  them  great  good 
luck  in  their  little  game  called  "  politics  " ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  most  of 
the  players  make  it  a  very  little  game.  "  I  know  their  tricks  and  their  mai> 
ners,"  and  I  am  not  impressed  at  all  with  the  notion  that  any  special  dignity 
or  grandeur  attaches  to  their  performance.  My  game  called  ''wheeling" 
seems  quite  as  respectable  a  one  for  an  elderly  man  to  seek  his  amusement 
in ;  and  if  they  laugh  at  this  idea,  let  them  remember  that  "  he  laughs  best 
who  laughs  last."  I  do  not  affect  to  despise  any  kind  of  human  activity  which 
is  engaged  in  sincerely ;  I  only  insist  that  the  value  of  each  kind,  as  regards 
the  individual,  is  purely  relative,  dependent  entirely  upon  his  own  special 
'^  mental  center,"  or  personal  point-of-view.  "  Of  the  many  precious  immuni- 
ties that  belong  to  humble  station,  there  are  none,"  as  Hamerton  says,  ^  more 
valuable  than  the  freedom  from  false  amusements.  Any  hard  work,  however 
uncongenial,  has  the  qualities  of  a  mental  tonic,  for  you  see  a  sort  of  result ; 
whilst  a  false  pleasure  leaves  no  result  but  the  extreme  fatigue  that  attends 
it, — a  kind  of  fatigue  quite  exceptional  in  its  nature,  and  the  most  disagreeable 
that  is  known  to  man."  And  so,  when  some  conventional  ambition  or  cere- 
monious splendor  is  pointed  out  for  my  approval,  I  exclaim :  "  It  is  very 
good, — it  is  beautiful ;  but  I, — I  walk  large."  Or  perhaps  I  sing,  in  happy 
paraphrase  of  George  Arnold's  verses : 

"  A  harmless  fellow,  wasting  useless  days,  am  I :    I  love  my  comfort  and  my  leisure: 

Let  those  who  wish  them,  toil  for  gold  and  praise ;  to  me,  this  whirling  wheel  brings  more  of 

So,  here  upon  it  let  me  ride  at  ease,  while  solemn  voices  from  the  Past  are  calling,      [pleasure. 

Minted  with  rustling  whispers  in  the  trees,  and  pleasant  sounds  of  water  idly  falling. 

Pniae,  if  you  will,  '  the  man  of  higher  aims '  1     I  ask  but  leave  to  smell  the  flowers,  and  listen  .^  ^ 

To  lisping  birds,  or  watch  the  sunset's  flames  on  the  broad  river's  surface  glow  and  glistec.   *-|    ^*<  ^  ^ "    '  -  '  t 

Yes,  let  me  go  :  I  care  no  longer  now  for  fame,  for  fortune,  or  for  empty  praises ;  \  *    * •*  '*        ^  '  ' 

Rather  than  wear  a  crown  upon  my  brow,  I'd  ride  forever  here  among  the  daisies. 

So  90a  who  wish  for  fame,  good  friend,  pass  by:  with  yoa  I  forsly  cannot  think  to  quarrel : 

Give  me  peaMblHitts  this  wheel  whereon  I  fly,  and  r  '"''^  labor  and  the  laurel  I  '* 


XXIII. 

A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.* 

So  many  pretty  tales  had  been  told  me  about  the  smoothness  of  these 
Canadian  roads  that  I  thought  they  might  offer  a  better  chance  than  any 
other  for  testing  my  ability  to  push  a  46-inch,  cone-bearing  bicycle  straight 
through  the  coimtry  for  as  much  as  100  m.  in  the  course  of  a  single  day.  I 
entertained  a  general  intention  of  trying  to  do  that  distance,  therefore,  if  the 
wind  favored  me,  at  the  very  outset  of  my  long  tour ;  for  the  July  report  of  the 
Chicago  tourists  had  shown  that  the  first  unridable  stretch  of  road  began  at 
Clearville,  and  that  I  might  lay  off  100  m.  between  Windsor  and  that  point  by 
taking  a  route  somewhat  less  direct  than  their  own.  Beyond  Essex  Center, 
therefore,  I  turned  r.  to  Kingsville,  where  I  got  my  first  view  of  Lake  Erie, 
and  then  1.  to  Leamington,  where  the  Chicago  men  first  got  near  the  lake. 
The  only  sand  of  the  day  was  encountered  on  the  8  m.  between  these  points, 
but  the  side-paths  were  then  practicable,  and  there  was  one  ideally  smooth 
spin  of  3  or  4  m.  When  I  reached  L.,  at  1 1  o'clock,  7  h.  from  the  start,  my 
cyclometer  registered  nearly  40  m.  (a  much  greater  distance  than  it  ever 
accredited  to  me  at  so  early  an  hour  on  any  other  occasion,  either  before  or 
since) ;  but,  as  the  wind  was  against  me,  I  gave  up  all  idea  of  trying  to  cover 
the  remaining  60  m.  to  Clearville,  and  did  not  resume  my  journey  till  after 
dinner,  at  1.30  P.  M.  Meanwhile,  however,  I  wheeled  down  to  the  lake,  i^ 
m.  distant,  and  took  a  swim.  I  stopped  for  the  night  at  a  little  tavern  in 
Dealtown,  which  I  reached  at  6  (after  having  passed  across  about  3  m.  of 
rough  and  barely  ridable  clay  near  Wheatley) ;  and  as  I  had  traversed  72^  m. 
since  leaving  Windsor,  14  h.  before,  and  was  not  particularly  weary,  it  seems 
likely  that  I  might  have  reached  Clearville  by  midnight.  Indeed,  when  sup- 
per was  over  and  I  saw  how  bright  the  moon  shone,  I  was  almost  tempted  to 
pack  up  again  and  go  on.  A  smooth  spin  of  14  m.  in  2  h.  of  the  next  forenoon 
brought  me  at  10.30  to  Troy  (Fairfield  P.  O.),  where  the  village  blacksmith 
insisted  that  I  should  halt  and  take  dinner  with  him,  in  order  that  "  his  boy  " 
might  escort  me  down  to  Clearville,  whither  we  wheeled  pleasantly  (12^  m.) 
between  12  and  2  p.  m., — a  local  rider  accompanying  us  through  the  village  of 
Morpeth,  which  is  about  5  m.  from  Clearville. 

•  My  cyclometer  here  registered  99  m.  from  Windsor  (though  reports  of 
(?th^r tourists  would  seem  to  show  that  it  fell  short  of  the  truth) ;  and,  as  I 
had^given  5  m.  to  detours,  I  should  advise  any  one  who  wished  to  be  sure  of 
covering  100  m.  straightaway  before  reaching  C,  to  begin  his  ride  at  Tecum- 

^From  The  L,  A.  W.  BuIUtin^  November  and  December,  1885. 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.  311 

sch,  about  8  m.  n.  e.  of  W.  The  whole  distance  is  practically  level  (/.  ^.,  there 
are  no  grades  steep  or  long  enough  to  be  troublesome),  and,  when  the  surface 
is  at  its  best,  I  do  not  think  there  is  a  rod  of  it  which  would  force  a  good  rider 
to  dismount  In  all  the  6,000  m.  of  roadway  explored  by  me,  I  know  of  no 
other  stretch  of  100  m*  so  suitable  for  a  straightaway  race  ;  and  I  am  sure  that 
a  fast  rider  who  was  favored  by  the  wind  might  speed  along  this  route  from 
Tecumseh  to  Clearville  with  surprising  swiftness.  On  the  forenoon  of  the 
day  before  my  tour  began  I  wheeled  to  T.,  with  some  members  of  the  Detroit 
B.  C, — turning  1.  at  the  top  of  the  little  hill  after  crossing  the  ferry  to  Wind- 
sor ;  then  r.  into  the  road  which  branches  off  near  where  a  r.  r.  bridge  may  be 
seen  on  the  1.  below  (it  was  at  this  point  that  I  made  my  first  mount,  next 
morning,  an  hour  before  daylight,  and  faced  for  Essex  Center) ;  then  1.  in  a 
pretty  straight  line  for  Tecumseh,  9  m.  from  the  start  at  the  Michigan  Ex- 
change Hotel,  which  is  less  than  \  m.  from  the  ferry.  There  is  no  reason 
for  dismounting  between  W.  and  T. ;  and  the  last  4  m.,  beginning  at  "  the 
Frenchman's  half-mile  track  "  were  covered  in  20  min.  Coming  back  from 
T.  for  about  3  m.  on  this  same  smooth  road,  we  turned  r.  for  the  shore  of 
Lake  St.  Clair,  and  went  along  it  for  3}  m.  to  the  upper  ferry  for  Detroit, — 
finishing  thus  at  the  hotel  a  pleasant  4  h.  round-trip  of  18  m.  No  questions  had 
been  asked  us  at  the  ferries  by  the  customs  inspectors  (to  whom,  probably,  the 
faces  of  my  escort  were  familiar) ;  but  when  I  came  back  alone  in  the  evening 
(see  p.  306)  the  sub-officer  who  controlled  that  particular  gateway  of  Canada 
refused  to  let  my  bicycle  go  through  it  without  an  order  from  one  of  his 
superiors.  Two  hours,  therefore,  had  to  be  wasted  in  walking  and  waiting, 
before  I  could  find  the  Collector  of  the  Port  at  home,  after  his  return  from 
evening  service  at  church.  This,  fortunately,  had  had  a  good  effect  upon  his 
charitable  impulses,  for  he  did  not  resent  my  intrusion  upon  his  Sunday  night 
retirement,  but  graciously  signed  an  order  admitting  my  bicycle  to  the  Queen's 
Dominion,  and  wished  me  good  luck  in  my  expressed  intention  of  pushing  it 
100  m.  upon  the  morrow.  As  my  plan  of  getting  early  to  bed  had  been 
spoiled  by  this  delay,  hardly  more  than  4h.  of  sleep  preceded  the  knock  which 
roused  me  at  3.30  a.  m.  to  begin  my  first  trial  of  riding  before  daylight.  I 
had  many  narrow  escapes  from  falls,  but  I  kept  to  the  saddle  pretty  contin- 
uously until  dawn  at  5,  and  I  think  that  on  no  other  occasion  have  I  ever  got 
over  as  much  as  5^  m.  in  i  h.  of  darkness.  My  only  previous  day's  ride  as 
long  as  this  (73  m.,  on  the  s.  shore  of  the  same  lake,  ending  at  Erie,  Sept. 
17,  1880, — 7  A.  M.  to  11.45  P.  M. — see  p.  204)  was  after  a  good  night's  sleep.* 


'The  day  when  I  write  these  words  (Oct.  8,  1885)  hai^ns  to  be  the  second  anniversaiy  of 
this  opening  journey  of  my  fortnight  in  Ontario ;  and  I  am  thereby  reminded  to  utter  warning 
against  the  deceit! ulness  of  newspaper  paragraphs  recently  circulated  to  the  effect  that  there  hu 
been  a  recent  change  made  for  the  better  in  Canada's  cumbersome  customs  regulations  about 
bkydes.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  still  classed  among  ordinary  "  carriages  of  travelers  and 
vehicles  laden  with  merchandise,"  which  (under  the  rules  of  Aug.  5,  '81,  printed  in  Z..  A.  W. 
JhtOttmj  Aug.  13,  '85,  p.  123)  are  required  to  leave  the  Dominion  within  two  days,  at  the  place 


3H 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


YTtre  at  once  conscious  of  a  greatly  increased  smoothness  in  the  roadway ; 
and  so  I  ventured  again  into  the  saddle,  and  kept  it  for  almost  exactly  4  m. 
(I  counted  the  revolutions,  436  per  m.,  to  learn  my  rate  of  progress),  or  until 
my  wheel  plunged  into  a  mud-hole,  and  I  suffered  a  violent  fall  backward. 
After  this  I  rode  only  a  few  rods,  for  the  surface  evidently  grew  rougher  and 
more  treacherous ;  and  I  was  too  nervous  from  the  pain  and  shock  of  the  fall 
to  attempt  any  further  risks.  So  I  walked  the  last  one  of  my  100  m.,  com- 
pleting that  record  at  2  a.  m.  when  I  crossed  the  little  bridge  at  Mitchell.  I 
wandered  \  m.  more  in  the  next  ^  h.,  before  I  discovered  the  hotel ;  and  I  had 
to  kick  and  hammer  for  a  long  while  before  I  could  arouse  the  proprietor. 
Meanwhile  the  rain  began  to  fall.  ^ 

*  I  sent  a  short  note  about  this  ride  to  the  Bi.  World  (Oct.  a6,  '83,  p.  330),  and  a  report  of 
it  also  appeared  in  Haxlett's  "  Summary  of  Notable  Runs  "  {Tkg  WJUelman^  Feb.,  '84,  p.  370). 
The  May  and  Jtme  issues  of  the  latter  journal  (pp.  97-106,  175-185)  published  President 
Bates's  report  of  the  experiences  in  Canada  of  the  forty  Chicago  tourists,  whose  route  from 
Windsor  to  Goderich  (July  3-5,  '83)  was  practically  identical  with  my  own,  and  who  had 
planned  to  ride  during  the  next  two  days  to  Mitchell  and  Brantford,  but  were  forced  by 
bad  weather  to  take  train  thither.  Of  the  2$  m.  traversed  thence  to  reach  Hamilton,  at  the 
head  of  Lake  Ontario,  he  says :  "All  the  tourists  walked  at  least  half  and  most  of  diem  walked 
two  thirds.  It  was  the  '  hardest '  road  we  had  yet  encountered.  Planks  (mostly  unridable. 
in  various  stages  of  brokenness,  filled  in  with  unfathomable  mud)  fonned  the  first  9  m.  of  it ; 
and  then  followed  a  wretched  'stone  road,'  full  of  loose  bowlders  and  ruts  unrelieved  by  side- 
paths.  We  went  up  a  succession  of  hills  to  Ancaster,  and  there,  7  m.  from  H.,  began  '  going 
down  the  mountain.' "  In  regard  to  the  first  difficult  section  of  the  tour,  he  says :  "  Soon 
after  leaving  this  hill,  just  beyond  the  hotel  at  Qearville,  the  road  grew  rapidly  bad,  until,  in  a 
few  m.,  it  became  positively  the  worst  road  any  of  the  party  had  ever  seen.  Within  a  distance 
of  t6  m.  were  18  tremendous  hills,  made  by  deep  valleys  carved  in  the  great  clay  blufiEs  by  rapid 
streams  of  muddy  water.  The  road,  owing  to  the  long  wet  season,  was  a  conglomeration  of 
lumps  of  dry,  hard  day,  with  stones,  ruts,  and  occasional  stretches  of  deep  sand.  The  people 
along  15  m.  of  it  left  no  imprint  of  any  foot-travel.  Even  where  hamlets  were  found  of  from 
15  to  30  houses,  there  were  no  side-paths  from  hoose  to  house ;  no  turf,  no  relief  of  any  kind. 
The  road  generally  was  not  even  walkaUe;  it  had  no  flat  surface  big  enough  to  plant  one's  isMt 
on.  Certainly  it  was  the  worst  dry  road  I  ever  saw.  After  about  15  m.  of  this  SOTt  of  thing, 
the  whole  party  were  at  last  enabled  to  mount  and  ride  into  Wallacetown  for  supper,  with  a 
day's  record  of  40  ra."  He  says  that  the  whole  party  were  only  29  min.  in  wheeling  the  6-ak, 
stretch  ("  as  smooth  as  an  asphalt  pavement  ^  ending  at  Bayfield. 

The  only  straightaway  ride,  of  xoom.  in  a  day,  which  had  been  taken  in  Canada  previooa 
to  my  own,  was  that  of  C.  H.  HepinstaU,  Captain  of  the  St.  Thomas  B.  C,  and  a  jeweler  by 
occupation,  who  wrote  for  me  this  report :  "  Starting  at  4.05  a.  m.  of  Sept  30,  '82,  I  reached 
London  (i8m.)at  6.zo,  and  waited  till  7.20  for  repairs;  stopped  at  St.  John  (6  m.)  }  h.  for 
breakfast,  and  at  Lucan  (9  m.)  }  h.  for  a  rider  who  wished  to  go  a  few  m.  with  me.  Reaching 
Exeter  (48m.  from  the  start)  at  xi.05,  I  started  on  at  it. 45;  reached  Mitchell  (15 m.)  at  1.15, 
rested  2  h.  for  dinner,  and  then  went  on  to  Listowel  (24  m.)  at  6.05.  Leaving  here,  after  sup- 
per, at  8.10,  I  finished  at  Fordwich  (15  m.)  at  9.47,  making  toa  m.  in  17  h.  42  min.,  or  a  little 
over  1 1  h.  of  actual  riding.  My  object  was  not  to  do  the  distance  in  the  least  possible  time,  but 
rather  to  wheel  to  Fordwich  in  a  day,  and  see  all  my  friends  that  I  could  in  the  towns  along  the 
road.  I  carried  a  heavy  m.  i.  p.  bag,  full  as  I  could  stuff  it,  and  another  quite  as  laxge.  As 
Saturday  is  the  time  when  country  people  come  to  market,  I  was  continoally  meeting  teams 
which  would  not  face  the  wheel.  Considerable  rain  fell  in  the  forenoon,  but  the  afternoon  was 
pleasant.    From  Exeter  to  Mitchell  the  road  was  somewhat  sandy  and  stony  ;  and  from  there 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


315 


to  Listowel  quite  nnridable,  'being  covered  with  deep  parallel  ruts,  as  no  repairs  have  been 
made  for  years.  I  had  to  pick  my  way  along  the  sides ;  and  I  may  say  the  same  of  my  route 
firom  L.  to  F.,  which  led  through  swamps  with  corduroy  crossings  and  many  stones, — making 
night-riding  very  awkward.  The  surface  from  London  to  Exeter  was,  as  usual,  '  simply  mag- 
nificent.' "  It  will  be  observed  that  his  route  coincided  with  mine  for  these  30  m.,  which  he 
covered  between  7.20  and  1  i.os  (3!  h.,  with  stops  of  f  h.),  as  compared  to  my  5.45  to  11. 10  (5^  h., 
with  stops  of  i|  h.) ;  showing  that  even  my  riding  time  was  i  h.  slower  than  his. 

At  the  dose  of  the  summer  ci  '85,  four  members  of  the  Star  W.  C.  of  Qeveland  (Henry  £. 
Chubb,  John  J.  McTigue,  Walter  Collins,  and  Joseph  Weitz),  engaged  in  a  successful  fort- 
n^t's  tour,  comprising  a  large  section  of  the  track  explored  by  me,  as  this  mileage  summary 
shows:  August  14,  Detroit  to  Morpeth,  77;  15th,  to  St.  Thomas,  47;  1 6th,  to  London,  18; 
17th,  to  Goderich,  66;  18th,  to  Woodstock,  69;  19th,  to  Guelph,  48;  20th,  to  Toronto,  60; 
21st,  spent  in  Toronto;  22d,  to  Hamilton,  40;  23d,  to  Niagara,  50;  24th,  25th  and  26th,  in 
Niagara  and  BufiEalo ;  27th,  to  Erie,  98 ;  a8th,  spent  in  Erie ;  29th,  to  Cleveland,  82.  This 
makes  655  m.  for  the  11  riding  days,  and  the  total  of  the  tour  was  677  m."  With  this  may  be 
compared  the  fortnight's  circuit  taken  a  year  earlier  by  Samuel  Roether,  secretary  of  the  Port 
Elgin  B.  C,  as  reported  in  Canadian  Wheelman  (March,  '85,  p.  67):  "Starting  from  my 
home  on  Lake  Huron  at  7  A.  m.  of  Aug.  24,  I  passed  through  Underwood  and  Tiverton  over 
first-class  gravel  road,  and  reacned  Kincardine,  24  m.,  in  3  h.,  spite  of  the  wind  and  rain.  About 
iz  m.  beyond,  the  wind  increased  to  almost  a  hurricane,  but  I  wheeled  for  6  m.  behind  a  buggy, 
which  broke  the  force  of  it,  and  having  lit  my  lamp  at  a  comer-store,  8  m.  from  Goderich,  I 
managed  to  reach  there  in  x^h.,  60 m.  from  home.  The  wind  was  with  me  on  the  25th,  and 
I  reached  London  in  8  h.  of  riding  time.  The  next  afternoon  I  rode  to  St.  Thomas  in  2  h.,  and 
on  the  forenoon  of  the  fourth  day  to  Aylmer.  Getting  out  of  my  course,  beyond  here,  and  be- 
ing caught  by  a  shower,  I  took  train  to  Simcoe,  and  again  to  Hamilton  (for  the  roads  were 
impassable  on  the  28th  because  of  rain),  and  steamer  thence  to  Toronto  and  Niagara.  Starting 
homeward  from  there  on  September  3,  at  9  o'clock,  I  reached  St  Catharine's,  for  dinner,  but 
failed  to  find  good  roads  until  near  Beamsville,  from  which  place  to  Hamilton  they  are  first- 
dass.  There  is  considerable  side-path  riding  near  Grimsby,  and  I  was  repaid  for  the  rough 
roads  by  magnificent  scenery.  Taking  train  to  Woodstock,  I  wheeled  thence  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  4th  through  Tavistock  to  Stratford;  and  on  the  5th  to  Goderich,  43  m.  The  first  24  m. 
oi  this  could  easily  be  done  without  dismount,  as  there  are  but  few  hills  until  Seaf orth  is  reached. 
In  fact,  the  region  of  Clinton  is  where  most  of  the  hills  on  this  route  seem  to  have  been  placed; 
bat  still  the  roads  are  fine,  and,  in  spite  of  heat  and  dust,  I  made  the  last  12  m.  to  Goderich  in 
1^  h.  The  next  forenoon  I  went  n.  through  Carlow  to  Lucknow,  along  a  road  which  can't  be 
beat,  as  I  covered  6  m.  of  it  in  25  min.  In  the  afternoon  I  went  26  m.,  through  Riversdale  and 
Enntskillen,  on  the  Durham  gravel  road,  to  Walkerton,  with  a  strong  sun  and  hot  wind  on  my 
back  all  the  way.  The  heat  continued  so  intense  that  I  took  train  home  to  Port  Elgin,  30  m. 
A  good  road  was  said  to  connect  Lucknow  with  the  lake  shore  at  Kincardine,  18  m.  Through- 
out the  trip,  I  wore  a  ten-oent  straw  hat,  in  whidi  I  placed  a  fresh  cabbage-leaf  several  times  a 
day;  and  I  did  not  meet  with  a  single  accident.  I'm  only  sorry  that  my  outing  was  not  two 
mooths  instead  of  two  weeks." 

The  same  rider  thus  describes  the  final  section  of  route  which  he  took  by  tram  ("  C.  W.  A. 
Guide,"  p.  42) :  "Port  Elgin  to  Walkerton,  32  m.,  may  easily  be  ridden  in  4h.  Roads  ot 
first  half,  to  Paisley,  very  good  and  not  much  afEected  by  rain  ;  spite  of  some  ugly  hills,  to  be 
walked  up  and  down,  stretching  through  i^m.,  the  x6m.  require  less  than  2  h.  Last  hall 
(through  Dunkeld,  itm.,  and  Johnston's  Comers,  2|m.)  is  too  soft  after  a  rain,  and  too  dusty 
in  dry  weather.  In  starting  from  P.  E.  to  Paisley,  you  go  2}  m.  s.  e.  on  Goderich  road  to  Half- 
Way  House,  then  3^  m.  s.  to  Buigoyne.  The  n.  road  from  Port  Elgin  to  Southampton  is  7  m. 
of  perfectly  level  gravel,  which  the  rain  improves,  and  may  be  ridden  in  \  h.  From  Owen  Sound 
(on  Georgian  Bay,  a  branch  of  Lake  Huron)  to  Port  Elgin,  38  m.,  the  route  leads  through  Tara, 
12 m.,  of  which  the  first  7  are  rodcy  and  roi:^h  on  the  Goderich  road;  then  s.  2}m.  on  county 
fine ;  then  i^  m.  w.  on  10th  oooceaaioii  Anan,  good  gravel ;   then  i|  m.  a.  to  Tara ;    i|  m.  w. 


3i6  TlEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  Invennay,  hard  gravel;  then  3}  m.  w.  to  Arkwright,  fine ;  then  5  m.  w.  to  Burgoyne,  hard 
amd  good.  The  16  m.  from  T.  to  P.  £.  is  the  best  in  this  region.  The  Allenford  and  Elsinore 
route  from  Owen  Sound  to  P.  £.,  though  shorter  than  the  T.  route,  is  not  so  good."  Owen 
Sound  was  also  the  objective  point  in  a  400-m.  tour  taken  by  W.  J.  Williams  and  Herbert 
Williams,  brothers,  of  the  Woodstock  B.  C,  and  outlined  thus  ("  C.  W.  A.  Guide,"  p.  88) : 
"On  Aug.  13,  rode  50  m.  to  Waterloo,  through  Tavistock,  Shakespeare,  Baden  and  Berlin, — 
whence  to  W.  was  very  hilly.  Next  day,  through  fine  scenery  to  Breslau,  and  then  by  rough 
and  hilly  roads  to  Guelph,  15  m.  Third  ride,  60  m.  to  Durham,  through  Fergus  (ideal  road, 
13  m.  in  50  min.),  Arthur  (stop  for  dinner),  13  m.,  and  Mt.  Forest,  10  m.,— the  afternoon  road  be- 
ing bad  and  much  cut  up.  Fourth  ride,  40  m.  to  Woodford,  through  Williamsford,  Chatsworth 
and  Owen  Sound;  the  9  m.  between  the  two  latter  taking  only  50  min.,  the  rest  of  the  road  very 
rough  and  rocky.  Fifth  ride,  to  Meaford  (rough  but  down  hill) ;  thence  along  Georgian  Bay  to 
O>lling;wood  (rotten  stone  and  fine  gravel,  one  of  the  best  roads  we  ever  saw) ;  thence,  on  a  soft 
road  and  against  a  head-wind  to  Suyner,  where  we  gave  up,  and  took  train  to  Orillia,  at  the  n. 
end  of  Lake  Simcoe ;  record,  45  m.  Next  day  was  a  tough  one  :  we  took  train  back  to  Barrie, 
at  s.  w.  comer  of  lake,  and  wheeled  thence  across  country  45  m.  to  Mono  Outer ;  had  rain  oa 
a  clay  road  to  Cookston,  and  then  soft  sand ;  after  passing  Alliston,  climbed  the  Mono  hills,  up 
some  of  which  we  could  scarcely  push  our  wheels  because  of  steepness.  The  next  50  m.  to 
Guelph  led  through  OrangeviUe  (very  good)  to  Hillsburg  (splendid),  whence  to  the  finish  the 
road  was  not  quite  as  good.  Our  18  m.  return  ride,  Guelph  to  Waterloo,  through  Freeport,  we 
found  better  than  the  outward  ride  through  Breslau.  The  final  day's  run  to  Woodstock,  50  m. 
(9. 15  A.  M.  to  3  p.  M.),  was  the  swiftest  of  the  trip,  though  we  had  to  walk  3  m.  on  the  r.  r.  track, 
to  get  around  a  broken  bridge  before  taking  our  dinner  at  Shakespeare.  Including  38  m.  ridden 
A  Guelph,  we  wheeled  411  m.,  and  it  was  the  best  as  well  as  the  cheapest  trip  we  ever  had." 
Hillsburg,  named  in  the  above  report,  is  4  m.  n.  w.  of  Erin  village,  which  lies  on  the  Era- 
mosa  road  about  the  same  distance  n.  of  the  Bristol  Hotel  ruins,  where  my  own  route  turned 
e.,  as  shown  on  p.  318.  Of  the  direct  road  thence  to  Owen  Sound,  no  report  is  given  for  the 
I  am.  between  Orangeville  and  Shelbume;  but  for  the  aa^m.  thence  n.  w.  to  Flesherton,  C. 
Langley,  of  Toronto,  supplies  the  following :  "  Fair  gravel,  with  sandy  stretches  for  5  m.,  then 
\\  m.  of  rough  and  swampy  land;  11  m.  part  day  and  part  gravel,  slightly  rolling ;  5  m.  to  F., 
fair  but  hilly,  the  last  a  m.  being  a  succession  of  '  steps.'  This  aa  m.  affords  glorious  coaitfing 
and  grandly  picturesque  views,  and  can  be  done  in  about  3  h.  Markdale  u  8  m.  n.  w.  (g^ood 
gravel);  and  xom.  beyond  M.  is  Williamsford,  whence  my  route  coincides  with  that  of  the 
Williams  Brothers.  The  immense  hills  of  this  10  m.  cannot  be  ridden  up,  but  may  be  coasted 
with  care."  The  same  rider  reports  this  route  to  Lake  Simcoe  from  Toronto ("  C  W.  A.  Guide," 
p.  SS) :  "  Block  pavement  of  Yonge  st.  a  m.  n. ;  6  m.  loose  macadam  to  York  Mills,  but  side- 
walks nearly  all  the  way,  and  two  steep  but  ridable  hills ;  then  4  m.  to  Thomhill ;  4  m.  fair  to 
Richmond  Hill ;  4  m.  good  to  Bond's  Lake ;  good  coasting  and  scenery  round  the  end  of  it,  and 
along  the  6  m.  to  Aurora ;  thence  4  m.  good  rolling  macadam  to  Newmarket  The  town  lies 
I  m.^e.  of  main  road,  and  it  offers  two  good  routes  to  Lake  Simcoe.  That  through  Holland*s 
Landing  and  GuilUmbury  to  Cook's  Bay  is  a  good  one ;  but  the  route  to  Roach's  Point,  17  m., 
is  even  better ;  for,  though  apparently  hilly,  almost  all  the  hills  are  surmountable,  and  there  are 
some  fine  stretches  of  very  level  road.  The  3  m.  run  from  Keswick  to  Roach's  Point  is  grand, 
being  at  all  times  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  lake.  Branching  off  at  K.,  a  very  level  road  to 
found  running  through  8  m.  of  splendid  country,  past  Belhaven  to  Sutton,  a  r.  r.  terminus.  The 
route  from  Newmarket  is  to  Sharon,  4  m.,  Queensville,  3  m.,  Jersey,  6  m.,  and  Keswick,  i  m. 
A  good  temperance  hotel  is  kept  open  during  the  summer  at  Roach's  Point."  One  short  route 
out  of  Toronto,  not  much  favored  by  cyclers,  leads  to  Danforth,  7  m.,  and  is  "  level,  with  good 
stretches  of  gravel  interspersed  by  bad  patches  of  sand."  It  leaves  the  city  by  the  Winchester 
St.  bridge,  and  runs  through  the  townships  of  Scarboro  and  Markham.  This  same  road  may  be 
met  by  tnming  off  from  the  Kingston  road  at  the  Half- Way  House,  xi  m.  e.  of  Toronto  (a  m. 
beyond  Don  Bridge),  and  will  offer  macadam  for  3  m.  n.  to  Malvern.  "  Thence  4  m.  n.  to 
Markham  is  a  mud  road.  The  next  901.,  to  Stouffville,  may  be  ridden  in  |  h.,  qpite  of  tiro 
steep  hills,  for  it  is  all  fine  graveL" 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


3'7 


Resuming  now  the  record  of  my  own  tour,  I  remark  that,  during  the  first 
four  days  of  it,  I  covered  almost  exactly  250  m.  of  strange  roadway ;  and  if 
any  other  rider  has  traced  as  long  an  American  trail  in  as  short  a  time,  the 
report  of  it  has  escaped  my  notice.  The  nearest  approach  to  it  that  I  am 
aware  of  was  the  three  days'  ride  of  215  m.  by  H.  S.  Wood  (Staunton, 
Va.,  to  Columbia,  Pa. ;  May  23-25,  'S4) ;  and  I  have  not  yet  heard  of  any  one 
else  who  has  taken  a  similar  straightaway  spin  approximately  as  swift.  My 
own  longest  three  days'  ride  was  177  m.  (the  last  part  of  the  250*m.  ride  just 
mentioned);  next  was  156m.,  Niagara  to  Erie;  Sept.  16-18,  'So  (see  pp. 
50,  203) ;  and  third  was  1 55  m.,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  to  Newark,  N.  J. ;  June  3-5, 
'84.  The  longest  such  combination  during  my  last  ten  days  in  Ontario  was 
151I  m.  (Gait  to  Cobourg),  as  may  be  seen  by  the  following  summary,  show- 
ing the  mileage  of  each  day's  ride,  and  the  town  and  hotel  where  it  ended : 
Friday,  Oct.  12,  Stratford  ("Windsor"),  13J;  13th,  Berlin  ("American"), 
29I;  14th,  Gait  ("Queen's"),  16I;  X5th,  Toronto  ("Rossin"),  79};  i6th, 
Pickering,  32 J ;  17th,  Cobourg  (** Arlington  ••),  49} ;  i8th,  Belleville  ("  Dafoe  "), 
44J;  19th,  Kingston  ("Windsor"),  48f;  20th,  Gananoque  ("International"), 
24i ;  2ist,  Prescott  ("  Revere  "),  47. 

Seebach's  Hill,  in  Sebringville,  about  half-way  between  Mitchell  and 
Stratford,  is  said  to  be  "  the  highest  point  in  Western  Ontario,  affording  a 
magnificent  view  and  a  splendid  coast " ;  but  neither  of  those  facts  was  of 
consequence  to  me  on  a  misty  and  muddy  afternoon.  Beyond  Stratford,  the 
first  town  that  I  passed  was  Shakespeare  (7  m.),  and  then  Hamburg  (7  m.), 
whence  the  Chicago  tourists  proposed  to  go  to  Ayr  (12  m.)  and  through  Paris 
to  Brantford,  17  m.  more.  Another  recommended  route  from  Shakespeare 
to  B.  leads  s.  3  m.  to  Tavistock ;  s.  e.  14  m.  through  Strathallan  (7  m.)  to  Wood- 
stock ;  then  e.  and  s.  e.  30  m.  through  Eastwood,  Cathcart,  Burford  and 
Mt.  Vernon  to  Brantford.  Nearly  all  this  is  ridable,  on  hard  gravel  roads 
or  side-paths,  and  some  of  it  is  excellent.  .  The  8  m.  from  Paris  to  Brantford 
"can  be  covered  easily  in  i  h.,  rain  or  shine,  and  in  spite  of  the  hills."  The 
same  authority  says  of  the  bad  28  m.  leading  thence  to  Hamilton  (see  p<  314) : 
"  Some  parts  supply  good  riding,  after  a  fortnight  of  dry  weather ;  and  ex- 
tensive repairs  are  contemplated."  I  decided  to  avoid  this  bad  stretch  by 
going  e.  to  Toronto  and  then  back  again  s.  w.  along  the  lake  shore  to  Hamil- 
ton, and  so  e.  to  Niagara ;  but,  when  I  reached  T.,  I  was  told  that  the  shore 
route  backward  was  poor,  while  if  I  kept  straight  along  to  the  n.  e.,  I  should 
find  good  riding  for  200  m.  or  more.  Thus  I  was  persuaded  to  exchange 
Niagara  for  Ogdensburg  as  my  point  of  re-entering  the  United  States. 

From  Hamburg,  through  Wilmot  Center  (by  mistake  for  Baden)  and 
Petersburg,  to  Berlin  I  found  the  hard  gravel  roads  unaffected  by  the  pre- 
vious day's  rain,  and  I  rode  up  all  the  hills.  The  next  afternoon,  following 
another  rainy  night,  I  went  through  Breslau  and  Preston  to  Gait  (which  was 
out  of  my  direct  course,  being  about  half-way  to  Paris) ;  and,  thence,  on  the 
frosty  morning  of  the  15th,  through  Hespeler  to  Guelph  (15  m.  in  3  h.),  where 


3i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  turned  towards  Toronto  again.  Smooth  gravel  roads  led  me  across  a  suc- 
cession of  hills,  past  Eramosa  P.  O.  and  the  hamlet  of  Osprey  to  the  ruins 
of  the  burned  Bristol  Arms  Hotel  (17  m.  in  4  h.)»  where  I  turned  to  the  r. 
and  entered  the  first  cedar  forest  of  the  tour.  Hitherto  I  had  been  in  an 
open  country,  affording  fine  views  of  the  autumn  foliage,  and  I  had  been 
grinding  up  long  hills  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind ;  but  now,  having  the  wind  at 
my  back,  I  rode  6  m.  in  50  min.  and  then  broke  my  handle-bar.  I  walked 
much  of  the  5  m.  to  Georgetown,  where  I  had  it  welded  (though  the  road  was 
good) ;  wheeling  thence  in  the  moonlight  to  Norval  (4  m.  in  40  min.),  whence 
I  followed  a  somewhat  winding  road,  with  occasional  stretches  of  sand,  to 
the  Dew  Drop  Inn  cross-roads  (5^  m.  in  i^  h.)  at  8.45  P.  M.  Here  I  began  the 
longest,  swiftest  and  pleasantest  moonlight  spin  of  my  experience  (7  m.  in 
50  min.) — the  course  being  "  e.  two  concessions,  then  s.  through  Streetsville 
and  Springfield  to  Dundas  st.,  then  e.  for  18  m.  to  Toronto."  The  main 
roads  of  this  region  are  straight,  and  cross  each  other  at  right  angles,  having 
apparently  been  laid  out  in  regular  parallels  at  the  time  of  the  original  land- 
grants.  People,  therefore,  speak  of  the  short  distances  between  these  parallel 
roads  as  being  so  many  '*  concessions,"  just  as  city  men  speak  of  a  house  as 
being  so  many  "  blocks  "  away.  I Ve  forgotten  the  equivalent  distance  of  a 
"  concession,"  but  I  remember  that  while  obeying  my  directions  to  ride  "  e. 
two  concessions  from  the  Dew  Drop  Inn,"  a  carriage  kept  quite  near  me  — 
sometimes  in  front,  sometimes  behind — and  its  owner  said  I  ought  to  "  keep 
straight  on  for  Toronto,"  instead  of  turning  s.  for  the  Dundas  road.  My 
7-m.  spin  ended  at  a  bit  of  sand,  perhaps  2  m.  before  reaching  that  road, — 
the  character  of  which  varied  greatly.  There  were  some  ideally  smooth 
stretches,  whitely  glistening  in  the  frosty  moonlight ;  elsewhere  parallel  nits 
covered  the  whole  roadway ;  while  sand  was  usually  plentiful  near  the  vil- 
lages. The  side-paths  were  said  to  be  good  by  daylight  for  most  of  the 
distance,  but  the  night  shadows  made  them  too  dangerous  for  me.  The  tavern 
at  Cooksville,  64  m.  from  the  start,  gave  me  my  last  chance  for  beer,  at  1 1 
o'clock ;  and,  after  a  heavy  side-fall  at  midnight,  I  did  considerable  tramping 
until  I  reached  the  board  walks  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  It  was  at  2.40 
K.  M.  when  I  found  my  hotel,  and  plunged  into  the  bath-tub.  I  had  spent 
20  h.  in  doing  the  80  m.  (with  5  h.  of  rests),  and  had  not  been  supported  by 
very  luxurious  food  either  at  morning  or  night,  while  my  mid-day  meal  had 
consisted  simply  of  milk.  My  breakfast,  indeed,  I  forgot  to  pay  for  ;  and  I 
was  many  miles  from  Hespeler  when  the  notion  occurred  to  me  that  the  land- 
lord of  its  little  inn,  who  was  talking  with  me  when  I  mounted,  had  forgotten 
to  ask  payment.  Doubtless  he  was  surprised  a  second  time  when  he  received 
the  amount  from  me  by  mail. 

Toronto,  the  capital  of  the  Province,  seemed  to  me  more  wide-awake  and  American-like 
than  any  other  Canadian  city ;  and  from  the  fine  outlook  which  I  had  of  it  on  the  tower  of  the 
Metropolitan  Methodist  Church,  it  seemed  to  offer  shelter  to  much  more  than  its  actual  popula- 
tion of  90,000.    The  massive  and  substantial  architecture  of  its  University  also  impressed  me 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.  319 

more  pleasantly  than  any  similar  structure  in  the  United  States  has  ever  done,  though  I  have, 
within  the  last  dozen  yeara,  looked  upon  all  of  our  chief  collegiate  buildings.  Several  of  the 
local  riders  aooraopanied  me  about  the  city,  and  that  one  of  them  who  escorted  me  out  of  it,  late 
in  the  afternoon,  was  the  same  who  had  served  as  pilot  for  the  Chicago  tourists,  three  months 
before.  His  recommended  route  for  Guelph  ("  C  W.  A.  Guide,"  p.  53)  is  4  m.  shorter  than 
mine,--Hhe  differences  being  shown  by  the  following  sommary  :  "At  Cooksville,  16  m.  w.  of  T. , 
turn  n.  for  Brampton,  9  m.  of  clay  (good  in  dry  weaker;  unridable  after  a  rain);  then  6  m.  w. 
to  Norval,  stiff  clay ;  4  m.  w.  to  Georj^town,  clay,  good  only  in  dry  weather;  17  m.  to  Bristol 
Arms,  good  gravel ;  8  m.  s.  w.  to  Guelph,  fine  gravel,  and  fine  coasting,  on  long,  easy  grades." 
His  portrait  appeared  in  the  Canadian  IVAeelman,  a  few  days  after  I  met  him,  and  the  ap- 
pended editorial  said :  "  Without  ever  having  seen  a  real  bicycle,  but  only  engravings  thereof, 
he  des%ned  a  wooden  machine,  and  on  one  occasion  rode  it  from  Aylmer  to  Strathroy,  50  m.,  in 
a  day.  Afterwards,  he  covered  the  same  50  m.  in  6  h.,  on  an  iron  bicycle  of  his  own  making,  in 
which  the  bent  barrel  of  an  old  gun  served  for  a  backbone."  As  a  reward  of  two  years'  per- 
sistant ooazii^^,  he  has  at  last  prepared  for  me  the  following  biography  :  "  Perry  £.  Doolittle 
(b.  March  aa,  1861),  M.  D.,  surgeon  of  Toronto  B.  C,  residence  :  237  Front  st.  £.  I  now  ride 
a  54^tnch  Invincible,  but  began  on  a  home-made  48  in.,  May  20, 1878.  My  mileage  to  date  (Oct. 
6,  '85)  is  11,750,  divided  by  years  as  follows :  '7^1  <f3<>Of  '79>  2,250;  '80,  a,ooo ;  '81, 1,650;  '8a, 
1,500;  '83,  1,100;  '84,  i,aoo;  '85,  750.  I  made  one  run  of  25  m.  without  dismount  (Aug.  10, 
'79;  Strathroy  to  London),  in  3  h.  5  min.,  and  another  (July  28,  '83 ;  Kingston  to  Napanee),  in 
a  h.  40  min.  My  first  race  was  at  St.  Thomas,  May  24,  '81 ;  and  before  I  retired  from  the  path, 
in  the  autumn  of  '84, 1  took  part  in  53  contests,  and  won  38  first,  9  second  and  3  third  prizes.  I 
held  the  Canaultan  5  m.  championship  in  '8i-'82  and  the  Toronto  B.  C.  championship  in  '83-'84. 
AB  my  riding  has  been  done  in  the  Province  of  Ontario." 

The  President  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association,  R.  H.  McBride,  who  was  also 
Captain  of  the  Toronto  B.  C,  rode  around  the  dty  with  me,  that  day ;  and,  some  three  weeks 
bier,  in  company  with  Harry  Ryrie,  a  lieutenant  in  the  club,  he  made  a  day's  run  of  117  m.  to 
BelleviHe,  over  the  same  route  which  I  had  spent  three  days  in  covering.  I  believe  that  Mr. 
Hepinstall  and  myself  were  the  only  two  men  who  had  previously  wheeled  across  as  much  as 
100  m.  of  Canadian  soil  in  a  day ;  and  that  this  third  ride  of  that  length  was  the  very  first  one  of 
the  sort  taken  anywhere  in  America  by  a  /air  of  wheelmen.  From  the  report  which  was  writ- 
ten at  my  request,  I  condense  the  following  :  "  Started  at  5.10  a.  m.  (Nov.  8,  '83) ;  finished  at 
midnight.  Riding  time,  15^  h. ;  average  speed,  7I  m.  per  h. ;  wind  was  light  through  the  day, 
and  air  was  cool  enough  to  make  us  keep  our  jackets  on.  All  the  roads  leading  from  Toronto 
are  poor,  and  our  route  was  one  of  the  worst,  being  mostly  unridable  for  4  m.,  on  account  of 
atones  and  ruts.  We  kept  the  sidewalk  for  3  m.,  and  then  walked  and  rode  by  turns  in  the 
daikness  until  after  passing  Norway.  Good  wheeling  then  began,  and  we  reached  Halfway 
House,  8  m.,  at  6.06 ;  Highland  Creek,  14  m.,  at  6.53 ;  Whitby,  30  m.,  at  8.38 ;  Oshawa,  34  m., 
at  9. 10.  The  latter  stretch  was  poor  and  very  hilly.  Halting  20  min.  for  lunch,  we  went  9  m.  in 
si  h.  to  Bowmaasville,  43  m.,  at  10.45,— the  ^"t  >  m*  and  last  3  m.  being  good,  and  the  rest 
being  rather  sandy,  though  ridable  at  the  edges.  Thence  on  good  gravel  to  Newcastle,  48  m., 
at  it.23  (fine  coast  down  the  hill  on  entering  the  town),  and  Newtonville,  53  m.  Beyond  here, 
a  m.,  is  a  good  hill  for  coasting,  but  the  opponte  grade  must  be  walked  up ;  then,  after  7  m. 
more  of  smooth  saiface,  a  sharp  turn  e.  is  made  at  Welcome,  and  the  road  is  stony  and  rutty 
for  3  m.  to  Port  Hope,  65  m.  We  reached  here  at  2.05,  after  |  h.  stop  for  dinner  at  a  farm- 
house, and  we  spent  another  ^  h.  looking  for  luggage  at  the  railway  station.  Level  and  good 
toad  to  Cobourg,  7a  m.  at  3.ao ;  and  to  a  point  5  m.  beyond  friiere  we  halted  }  h.  for  tea. 
Grafton,  80  m.,  was  left  behind  at  4.47,  and  Colbome,  88  m.,  was  reached  at  6.05 — darkness 
having  set  in  when  we  were  about  midway  between  those  two  places,  or  at  a  point  to  which  we 
might  have  ridden  without  dismount  from  Port  Hope.  After  20  min.  rest  at  C,  we  went  on  to 
Brighton,  95  m,  at  7.50,  and  halted  40  m.  for  a  good  wa$h  and  hearty  supper.  Reaching  Tren- 
ton, to$  m.,  at  10,  we  were  met  by  some  Belleville  bicyclers,  and  resumed  the  journey  under 
tiiek  escort,  ao  min.  bter,>-finishing  at  Belleville,  ziy  m.,  just  on\he  stroke  of  midnight." 


320 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


The  prindpal  wheeling  in  the  second  annual  tour  under  the  aospices  of  the  Chicago  B.  C.  was 
along  this  same  road,  July  16-19,  '84 ;  and  from  President  Bates's  report  thereof  (OM/ntf »  May, 
'85,  pp.  195-201),  I  extract  the  following  :  "  Our  route  lay  along  the  n.  shore  of  Lake  Ontario 
for  141  m.,  through  a  beautiful  and  thickly-settled  country,  with  numerous  pretty  villages.  The 
streams  made  frequent  hills  for  coasting ;  and  often  a  glimpse,  and  sometimes  a  brood  esqanae, 
of  the  blue  and  sail-dotted  waters  of  the  lake  lent  a  charm  to  the  landscape.  First  day,  Toronto  to 
Whitby,  a8  m.,  9.20  to  2  ;  thence  at  4.30  to  Newcastle,  17  m., — or  45  m.  in  5I  h.  of  riding.  Sec- 
ond day,  to  Brighton,  45  m.,  9.35  a.  m.  to  7.40  p.  m.  ;  riding  time,  6  h., — the  longest  stop  being 
at  Cobourg,  from  xa.30  to  4.  Third  day,  to  Napanee,'46  m.,  9.35  a.  u.  to  6.15  p.  m.  ;  riding 
time,  4  h.  25  min., — the  final  24  m.  from  Belleville  being  covered  in  just  a  h.  of  continuous  rid- 
ing. Thus  far  the  roads  had  been  generally  good,  with  some  admirable  stretdxes.  But  now  we 
were  to  ride  over  the  best  road  of  the  whole  trip,  from  Napanee  to  Kingston,  as  m.  Though  nar- 
row, it  is  as  smooth  and  fine  as  the  most  noted  road  neaur  Boston.  We  left  N.  at  9b3oand  arrived 
at  K.  at  I i.ao,'— riding  time,  a  h.  10  min.''  There  is  an  evident  contradiction  here  (perha^w 
caused  by  a  printer's  blunder  in  changing  the  time  of  arrival  from  "  ia.20  ") ;  and,  as  to  the 
previous  days'  records,  it  may  be  presumed  that  they  represent  the  pace  of  the  swiftest  riders ; 
for  the  party  numbered  no  less  than  57,  and  it  is  hardly  [»-obable  that  the  stragglii^  "rear 
guard  "  kept  up  any  such  pace  as  12  m.  per  h.  The  WheeVs  report  says,  however  :  "  The  nm 
of  22  m.,  from  Cobourg  to  Belleville  was  made  in  a  h.,  the  last  12  m.  being  covered  within  i  h., 
which,  considering  that  the  party  numbered  60,  was  a  most  creditable  performance.  Saturday's 
short  run,  from  Napanee  to  Kingston,  aa  m.,  was  made  in  about  3  h.  Fine  weather  was  the  rule 
of  the  tour.  The  wind  was  at  nearly  all  times  on  the  quarter,  and  helped  rather  than  retarded 
progress."  Two  months  later  (Sept.  26,  '84),  four  members  of  the  Toronto  B.  C.  rode  in  the 
opposite  direction,  Kingston  to  Napanee,  without  disuMunt.  The  time  was  2  h.  35  min.,  but 
they  had  the  wind  against  them.  These  riders  were  A.  F.  Webster  (Capt.),  N.  R.  Butdter 
(Sec),  W.  H.  Cox  and  W.  H.  West. 

The  same  road  adso  supplied  the  central  two  days'  riding  in  the  third  annual  tour  of  the 
same  maxu^ment  (called  the  "  Big  Four,"  because  its  four  divisions,  of  25  men  each,  were 
commanded  by  representatives  of  four  big  dties  :  Chicago,  Boston,  BufEalo  and  New  York), 
whose  first  two  days,  Bu£Ealo  to  Rochester,  and  last  two  days,  Albany  to  New  York,  I  have 
already  described  on  pp.  215, 198.  The  report  of  "  C.  S.  H.,"  a  Bostonian(^f^3b»^  July  17,  '85), 
is  less  rose-colored  than  the  one  I  have  quoted  from  President  Bates,  concerning  the  same  locality, 
as  will  appear  from  the  following  exoeipts :  ''  There  is  nothing  in  Canada,  or  at  least  the  portions 
we  visited,  to  attract  the  touring  cyclist  A  thinly-settled  country,  with  little  beautiful  scenery, 
wretched  roads  and  worse  hotels.  We  had  more  enjoyment  from  one  day's  touring  in  New  York 
State.  Charming  scenery  and  pleasant  people  are  there  to  be  met  with  on  every  side.  We  were 
heartily  thankful  when  the  shores  of  Canada  were  being  left  behind,  in  favor  of  a  country  where 
we  could  be  sure  of  good  hotel  accommodations  and  better  roads.  One  hundred  is  far  too  many 
to  take  on  a  tour  of  this  kind.  The  hotels  are  overcrowded,  and  on  the  road  it  is  impossible  to 
set  a  pace  that  will  prove  satisfactory  to  so  lai^ge  a  party.  It  was,  in  fact,  generally  either  a  race 
or  a  funeral.  Each  division  seemed  to  vie  with  the  other  in  doing  the  staff  up  when  it  was  in  the 
lead.  As  regards  quality,  the  Canadian  roads  were  a  great  disappointment  over  those  of  last 
year.  When  the  tourists  mounted  at  C^obouiig,  July  9,  they  were  in  high  ^e  because  of  the 
assurance  that  before  them  lay  a  stretch  of  100  m.  of  as  perfect  a  road  as  was  ever  wheeled  over. 
Through  the  town  the  road  was  all  right,  but  \  m.  out  they  came  to  a  steep  hill  that  forced  a 
number  to  dismount,  and  then  came  a  stretch  of  soft  sand,  followed  by  a  mile  of  loose  stones  of 
assorted  sizes,  and  then  a  stretch  of  ruto,  and  so  on  throughout  most  of  the  day's  ride.  The  dis- 
appointment was  intense,  and  words  unprintable  were  thought  and  loudly  uttered.  The  tourists 
who  went  over  this  route  last  year  said  that  the  roads  were  then  good,  and  recent  rain  must 
have  spoiled  them.  That  may  be  true,  but  it  is  hard  to  believe.  The  last  la  ro.  to  BeHeTilk 
was  very  good  and  the  distance  was  covered  in  50  min.  The  day*s  record  was  43}  m.  in  4  h.  35 
min.  of  actual  riding.  After  an  all  night's  rain,  the  roads  were  very  muddy,  but  Ns^Mmee  was 
reached  without  inddent.    While  taking  diimer  there,  a  sudden  shower  thoroughly  drenched  the 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.  321 

nuchines  before  they  could  be  got  under  cover.  The  rain  continued  when  the  journey  was  re- 
sumed, thfxnigh  the  mud,  over  roads  even  worse  than  those  of  the  previous  day ;  and  another 
heavy  shower,  when  we  were  about  half-way  to  Kingston,  completely  broke  up  the  line.  After 
that,  it  was  simply  a  straggling  race  for  the  finish,  each  man  for  himself;  and  every  one 
breathed  a  prayer  of  thankfulness  when  Kingston  was  finally  reached." 

On  this  same  rainy  day  and  same  muddy  course  was  run  the  first  long  straightaway  race  at- 
tempted on  this  continent ;  and  from  the  full  report  of  it  which  was  printed  in  the  same  paper 
by  "  W,  I.  H.,"  also  a  Boston  man,  I  condense  the  following  :  "The  arrangements  were  made 
by  W.  Kingsley  Evans,  of  London,  editor  of  the  Catuidian  IVheelmaUt  who  deserves  much 
crecfit  for  their  completeness.  The  distance  from  Cobouig  to  Kingston  being  only  95  m.,  a  flag- 
man was  stationed  z^  m.  from  the  start,  on  a  wide  and  grassy  part  of  the  road  which  gave  ample 
vpaos  for  the  racers  to  turn ;  and  they  took  a  preliminary  circuit  around  him,  so  as  to  make  their 
ion  course  100  m.  Owing  to  numerous  imcompleted  attempts  to  repair  the  highway,  the  first  25 
m.  of  it,  mostly  up-hill,  was  in  very  bad  shape ;  while  the  asm.  section  of  it  between  Belleville 
and  Napanee  was  in  frightful  condition  because  of  the  rains  which  had  fallen  in  floods,  in  ad- 
vance of  the  racers,  forcing  them  literally  to  ride  in  running  water.  At  about  10  a.  m.  of  July  10, 
these  six  men,  out  of  the  dozen  entries,  came  to  the  scratch  in  front  of  the  Arlington  :  Cola  £. 
Stooe,  St.  Louis,  58-in.  Rudge ;  L.  D.  Munger,  Detroit,  54-in.  Apollo  Light  Roadster ;  George 
Wdier,  Smithville,  Star;  F.  W.  Westervelt,  Springfield,  52-in.  Victor;  H.  D.  Corey,  Boston, 
53-nL  Rudge;  N.  H.  Van  Sicklen,  Chicago,  56-in.  Columbia  Light  Roadster.  During  the 
days  just  preceding,  Stone  had  been  over  the  road  three  times  (making  the  45  m.,  Cobourg  to 
Belleville,  in  3  h.  26min.,  July  8),  and  Corey  had  been  to  Belleville  and  back,  while  Weber  trav- 
ersed the  route  before  joining  the  tour  at  Buffalo ;  but  Munger,  Westervelt  and  Van  Sicklen 
had  dung  to  the  main  body  of  the  tourists,  and  knew  practically  nothing  of  the  road  ahead  of 
them.  Mr.  Evans  gave  the  word  '  go '  at  xo.o8,  and  the  four  leaders  rounded  the  Ashman,  near 
together,  in  this  order  :  Stone,  Weber,  Westervelt,  Van  Sicklen,  with  Munger  and  Corey  \  m. 
behind.  About  ^  m.  after  the  txirn,  they  met  a  farm  wagon  with  two  horses  in  front,  and  a  nuure 
and  a  colt  hitched  behind.  The  mare  saw  them  coming  and  commenced  to  prance  about  in  a 
most  unpleasant  manner.  Stone,  being  first,  got  by  safely  on  the  fly.  Weber  went  down  into  a 
ditch  on  the  1.  of  the  team  and  clambered  up  beyond.    Westervelt  jumped  o£F  and  ran  along  the 

of  the  road  on  the  grass  for  a  hundred  yards  before  he  could  get  on  to  the  road  again.  Van 
attempted  to  pass  on  the  edge  of  the  road,  but  as  he  got  abreast  of  the  horses  behind, 
ibe  mare  g^ve  a  snort  of  terror,  and  backing  against  him,  shoved  him  off  into  the  ditch  where  he 
sprawled  ingloriously  and  damaged  his  wheel  so  badly  that  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  from  the 
race.  Munger  jumped  off  and  ran  his  wheel  by  on  the  grass,  while  Corey,  finding  it  impossible 
to  make  the  borrowed  forks  work  satisfactorily,  joined  Van  Sicklen,  his  partner  in  misfortune. 
Meanwhile  Stone  had  gained  an  eighth  of  a  m.  on  Westervelt  and  Weber,  but  at  the  starting- 
point  both  men,  after  some  decidedly  warm  work,  had  caught  him,  and  the  trio  began  the  long 
stretch  of  95  m.  straightaway  in  a  bunch.  Weber  lost  ground  a  little  but  managed  to  cling  to 
the  leaden,  who  cut  out  some  tough  running  for  the  next  5  m.  As  they  neared  Wicklow,  Weber 
found  the  pace  too  hot  and  fell  back,  while  Stone  and  Westervelt  continued  tlieir  mad  careers 
for  ID  m.  farther,  when  the  latter  had  found  the  strain  too  much  for  him,  and,  striking  a  steep 
hin,  Stone  got  clear  away. 

"  Munger,  who  had  been  plodding  steadily  along,  now  began  to  pick  up,  and,  as  they  neared 
Brighton,  he  saw  a  team  back  down  on  Weber  and  cause  him  to  take  a  genuine  header,  bend- 
mg  the  handle-bars  and  twisting  the  backbone  of  his  machine.  Passing  the  unlucky  Star  man, 
who  «V>Ht«^  his  help,  he  soon  passed  Westervelt  and  landed  in  Brighton,*  38  m.  out,  at  xa.05, 
just  5  min.  bditnd  Stone.  Westervelt  passed  at  12. 15,  and  Weber,  having  made  his  wheel  ridable, 
at  ia.3s.  At  Trenton,  Stone  was  told  that  Weber  was  just  behind  him,  and  this  caused  him  to 
sbrike  oat  at  a  high  rate  of  speed  for  Belleville,  where  he  arrived  at  1.49,  having  made  the  la  m. 
in  a  little  leas  than  i  h.,  and  the  50  m.  in  3  h.  41  min.  He  was  so  exhausted  that  he  had  to  be 
carried  into  the  hotel  and  laid  down ;  and,  when  he  resumed  the  journey,  10  min.  later,  after 
^ving  taken  a  large  quantity  of  milU  and  several  raw  e|^,  he  presented  such  a  dilapidated  ap- 
21 


322 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


pearance  that  bystanders  offered  odds  of  2  to  i  that  be  would  be  unable  to  finish.  Munger 
reached  the  hotel  21  min.  after  Stone ;  ate  a  hearty  meal  of  steak  and  potatoes,  vrell  garmihed 
with  liquids ;  was  nibbed  down ;  came  out ;  kicked  off  a  man's  hat,  and  vaulting  lightly  into 
the  saddle,  started  out  at  a  good  pace,  having  delayed  just  17  min.  Meantime  Westervelt  had 
arrived  at  2.22  (50  m.  in  4  h.  14  min.),  stopped  i  min.  to  drink  a  bottle  of  ginger  ale,  and  started  off 
4  min.  in  advance  of  Munger.  He  kept  second  place  until  18  m.  beyond  Belleville,  when  he 
played  out  entirely  and  gave  up  the  contest.  Weber  reached  B.  at  2.33,  exchanged  his  damaged 
wheel  for  a  new  one  that  was  waiting  for  him,  and  left  at  2.35.  At  Napanee,  where  he  was  about 
I  h.  behind  Munger,  he  mounted  his  racing  wheel,  waiting  for  him  in  charge  of  C.  H.  Chicker- 
ing,  who  served  as  a  pace-maker  for  10  m.,  while  Weber,  keeping  on,  arrived  at  Kingston  at 
7. 14}  p.  M.,  making  the  25}  m.  in  i  h.  45  min.,  a  total  of  9  h.  14^  min.  Stone  reached  Napanee 
at  4.08  (20  min.  ahead  of  Munger),  and  was  coached  thentt  to  Kingston  by  Lindell  Gordon,  in 
about  2  h.,  finishing  at  6.36,  as  the  winner  of  the  race,  in  exactly  8  h.  28  min.  This  is  only  22 
min.  more  than  the  best  record  for  a  zoo  m.  road  race.  The  prize  is  a  circular  gold  medal  valued 
at  $60.  Munger  was  coached  from  Belleville  to  Napanee  by  J.  W.  Vivian,  and  thence  to  Kings- 
ton by  Gideon  Haynes,  jr.,  who  once  brought  him  within  6  min.  of  Stone.  He  finished  at  7.08^, 
6  min.  ahead  of  Weber,  with  a  record  of  9  h.  ^  min.  During  the  race  Stone  ate  nothing  ex- 
cspt  raw  eggs,  while  all  the  rest  drank  sherry  and  eg^,  ginger  ale,  milk  and  cold  tea  in  great 
quantities,  Weber  excelling  in  that  respect.  The  '  incidents '  besides  those  already  mentioned 
were  a  header  taken  over  a  cow  by  Stone,  and  a  fearful  shake-up  for  Munger,  who  ran  into  a 
horse,  or  rather  the  horse  backed  into  him.  Forced  thus  to  make  a  back  dismount,  and  landing 
astride  the  backbone  of  his  wheel,  he  was  '  knodced  out '  for  the  space  of  ten  minutes.  As 
for  Westervelt,  considering  that  this  was  his  first  long  race,  he  made  a  wonderful  showing  and 
surprised  everybody.  Had  he  been  an  experienced  man,  and  known  just  how  to  take  care  of 
himself,  there  is  little  doubt  but  he  would  have  shown  up  at  the  finish  nearer  the  front." 

Some  previous  notable  rides  of  his  have  been  described  by  me  on  pp.  114,  182.  The  second 
man  in  the  race  (who  is  captain  of  the  Detroit  B.  C,  aged  23  and  weighing  160  lbs.),  distin> 
guished  himself,  three  weeks  later,  by  driving  the  same  bicycle  2ii|  m.  in  24  h.,  be^^nning  at 
4  p.  M.  of  July  31.  The  roads  around  Boston  supplied  the  course.  Butcher  cyclometer  kept  the 
record,  and  pace-makers  were  present  for  the  entire  distance.  The  BL  World  (Aug.  7, 
p.  329)  recorded  the  exploit  as  beyond  dispute.  As  the  tragic  death  of  Cola  E.  Stone  (b. 
Feb.  27,  '63  ;  d.  Sept.  26,  '85)  will  serve  to  pei^nanently  connect  his  name  with  the  remarkable 
100  m.  race  which  he  won,  I  present  here  the  brief  wheeling  biography  which  he  wrote  at  my 
request,  July  29  :  "  It  was  sometime  in  June  of  '81  that  I  made  my  first  wild  and  unsatisfactory 
attempt  to  ride.  I  got  the  knack  in  about  \  h.,  by  4)ropping  the  wheel  up  with  a  fence-rail, 
climbing  on  and  then  throwing  the  rail  away.  The  date  of  my  first  mount  is  identical  with  that 
of  my  first  road-ride.  It  was  n*t  a  very  long  ride, — only  about  3  m.  on  the  road, — ^but  I  think  the 
trail  would  have  measured  17.  My  longest  straightaway  day's  ride,  except  in  the  recent  race, 
was  from  St.  Louis  to  Clarksville,  about  80  m.,  on  the  r.  r.  track,  through  the  counties  of  St. 
Louis,  St.  Charles,  Lincoln  and  Pike.  It  was  a  poor  r.  r.  track,  too ;  and  the  only  cow  we  saw 
all  day  was  lying  peacefully  in  the  middle  of  it  (though  there  were  about  137  cattle-goards  to 
the  mile),  so  that  we  had  to  kick  her  to  make  her  get  up.  My  longest  tours  have  been  only 
Saturday-to-Monday  runs.  We  frequently  go  to  Manchester,  20  m.,  without  dismounting;  and 
I  don't  remember  ever  stajring  in  the  saddle  longer  than  that,  except  in  a  25  m.  race.  I  *ve  never 
kept  any  regular  account  of  mileage,  except  occasionally  for  a  month  or  two  at  a  time.  Judging 
from  that,  I  think  I  averaged  from  6,000  to  7,000  m.  a  year,  through  '82,  '83  and  '84.  I  've  done 
a  great  deal  of  riding,  I  know,  because  I  wear  out,  on  an  average,  two  back  tires  and  one  front 
tire  a  year,  and  I  always  have  to  get  a  new  set  of  bearings,  every  8  or  9  months;  but  I  have  n't 
the  slightest  idea  what  my  total  mileage  amounts  to.  My  weight,  when  stripped  for  radi^,  is 
165  lbs. ;  and  my  occupation,  as  shown  by  the  letter-head,  is  that  of  a  dealer  in  bicycles."  At 
the  last  spring  meeting  of  the  St.  Louis  Ramblers,  he  rode  the  fastest  mile  ever  made  on  a  dirt  or 
cinder  track  west  of  the  Hudson,  defeating  Weber,  in  2.46}.  While  racing  at  Springfield,  Septem- 
ber 8,  his  hand  was  broken  by  a  collision  and  fall,  in  the  last  half  of  the  loih  m. ;  but  this  mis- 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


323 


hap  was  in  no  way  the  cause  of  his  sudden  death.  Resolutions  of  regret  for  this  sad  event  were 
pawrd  by  the  qrding  clubs  of  the  city  and  printed  in  all  the  loumals ;  and  they  bore  unmistak^ 
able  evidence  of  their  writers'  sincerity.  This  may  be  shown  by  a  brief  extract  from  the  ex- 
tended memorial  and  eulogy  given  in  a  St.  Louis  journal  (Th*  Spectator,  Oct.  3),  in  connection 
with  his  portrait,  which  also  appeared  in  the  L,  A.  IV.  BulUiin  (OcL  16,  p.  376)  and  S^ing-. 
field  Wkttlmgn^s  GazeUt.  The  eulogist  says  :  "  As  a  wheelman,  I  am  satisfied  that  he  had 
00  living  equal.  He  was  good  for  long  distances  and  short  distances ;  he  was  great  on  rough 
roads  and  smooth  roads.  He  could  climb  any  hill  that  a  horse  could  climb,  and  he  could  ride 
hands-o£F  where  good  riders  were  fain  to  dismount.  He  was  the  foremost  member  and  special 
pride  of  bis  dub.  His  mastery  over  the  wheel  was  absolute.  It  was,  under  his  feet,  a  perfectly 
natural  and  certain  mode  of  locomotion,  and  as  obedient  as  the  best  trained  horse.  There 
never,  was  a  man  more  absolutely  devoid  of  fear.  I  cannot  but  think  he  was  laboring  under  some 
mental  derangement  when  he  determined  on  the  rash  act  which  ended  his  life.  He  will  be  re- 
membered with  keen  rvf^nX  while  the  present  generation  of  wheelmen  remember  anything." 


« 


Thy  leaf  has  perished  in  the  green  :  and  while  we  breathe  beneath  the  sun. 
The  world,  which  credits  what  is  done,  is  cold  to  all  that  might  have  been." 

"  Clerical  Wheelman's  Canadian  Tour,  621  m.,  Aug.  5-a6,  1885,"  was  the  title  of  a  care- 
fuUy-oompiled  little  pamphlet  (24  pp.)  issued  at  Lancaster,  Pa.,  May  la,  by  the  Rev.  Sylvanus 
Stall  (b.  Oct.  18,  1847),  a  cycling  enthusiast,  whose  executive  ability  as  a  practical  man-of-affairs 
had  been  previously  shown  by  the  business-success  attending  the  publication  of  his  "  Lutheran 
Year  Book  "  (ed.  for  '85  has  196  pp.  and  sells  for  35  c),  "  How  to  Pay  Church  Debts,"  and  other 
matter-of-fact  pieces  of  ministerial  literature.  An  itinerary  for  each  day  of  the  proposed  tour, 
with  loapa,  mileage,  estimates  of  expenses,  and  other  exact  details,  filled  the  body  of  the 
pamphlet,  whose  three  final  paq^es  contained  am  alphabetical  list  of  120  "clerical  wheelmen," 
with  their  residences.  To  them  and  to  all  others  of  their  cloth  in  the  United  States,  this  alluring 
little  book  addressed  its  greeting,  with  a  "  cordial  invitation  to  share  in  a  journey  which  was  at 
first  projected  for  the  author's  enjoyment  m  company  with  a  few  personal  friends. "  The  success 
of  the  scheme  was  at  once  assured  by  the  quantity  and  character  of  the  responses,  so  that  the  sup- 
plementary circular  of  June  15  said  "  the  final  number  of  those  a^eeing  to  participate  will  not 
fall  far  short  of  40  or  50."  In  fact,  however,  there  were  so  many  withdrawals  before  the  start 
that  the  real  number  was  reduced  to  ao.  Nine  of  these  were  laymen  (for  the  plan  of  the  tour 
allowed  each  of  the  clergy  to  invite  "  any  friend  for  whose  character  and  bearing  he  would  be- 
come personally  reapooaible  ")» li^t  only  5  of  the  whole  party  were  bachelors.  It  was,  therefore, 
a  dignified  coHection  of  **  good  men,  weighing  "--on  the  average,  according  to  the  sutistician — 
r43  lbs.,  having  an  avenge  height  of  5  ft  9  in.,  and  an  average  age  of  33  years.  "  Daily  pray- 
eiB  were  promptly  established,  the  Sundays  were  spent  in  rest  and  worship,  and  ,the  spirit  of 
Christian  fellowship  characterized  the  whole  tour.  Seven  denominations  were  represented  and 
as  many  States.  By  the  thundering  waters  of  Niagara,  the  final  photograph  was  taken,  and  the 
reluctant  good  byes  exchanged,  after  18  days  of  delightful  companionship.  The  party  had  cov- 
ered more  than  500  m.,  and,  in  the  delightful  riding  between  Goderich  and  Kingston,  reached  the 
Ugb-water  mark  of  comfort  and  pleasure.  It  was  a  longer  tour  than  had  ever  been  accomplished 
on  wfaeeh  by  any  considerable  body  of  men."  My  quotation  is  from  a  well-written  article  by  the 
Rev.  S.  G.  Barnes,  professor  of  English  Literature  in  Iowa  College  ("  The  Ministers  on 
Wheels"  :  Frank Leslu*i  Sunday  Mageuine^  Nov.,  '85,  pp.  453-457),  who  rode  a  tandem  tri- 
cyde  imth  his  brother,  and,  as  a  long^t  day's  journey,  made  50  m.  On  the  same  day  (Aug.  19) 
Ae  only  other  tricyder  in  the  party,  the  Rev.  C.  E.  Fessenden,  of  Summit  Hill,  Pa.,  accom- 
pGshed  70  m.,  as  did  also  Professor  C.  P.  Hofihnan,  of  Bordentown,  N.  J.,  in  company  with  the 
commander, — the  two  bicydes  being  ridden  without  dismount  for  the  last  23  m.,  ending  at  4.30 
p.  M.  at  Kingston.  The  96  m.  from  Cobourg  to  that  point  were  done  the  previous  day  by 
Elliot  Mason,  of  New  York,  Geoige  Zeh,  of  Washington,  and  Louis  A.  Pope,  of  Warren,  R.  I. 
(the  latter  being  the  only  clergyman  of  the  trio) ;  and  the  still  longer  run  of  103  m.  by  three 
Dunisten :  B.  J.  Holoombe,  of  Detroit,  J.  P.  Maveety,  of  Homer,  and  £.  P.  Johnson, 


324  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

of  Marshall    The  last-named  sent  four  letters  descriptive  of  the  tour  to  the  Chicago  Tribmie 
(reprinted  in  MarshaU  Statesman),  and  I  reproduce  what  he  says  about  this  first  loo  m.  straight- 
away  ride  engaged  in  by  any  American  represenutives  of  the  cloth :  *'  Starting  from  Port  Hope 
soon  after  5  a.  m.,  we  found  the  first  40  m.  so  discouragingly  poor  that  some  of  us  gave  up  the 
idea  of  a  'century  run,*  and  tazily  wasted  almost  3  h.  along  the  rood,  resting  at  farm-houses  or 
under  the  trees.    Courage  and  ambition  were  both  mightily  revived  by  the  fine  surface  en- 
countered at  Trenton,  and  we  joyfully  wheeled  the  la  m.  to  BeUeville  in  i  h.,  reached  Napanee 
before  6  o'clock,  and  finally  Kingston.    H/s  riding  time  was  10^  h.,  and  the  others  rode  a  h. 
longer.    Far  from  being  '  completely  used  up  next  day,'  we  only  felt  a  little  laxy  and  a  trifle 
stifE  in  the  knees,  but  were  ready  to  walk  or  wheel  around  the  city  streeU  as  we  chose."    The 
same  writer  property  denounces  the  delay  and  trouble  which  the  Canadian  customs  people  caused 
at  the  outset  of  the  tour  by  their  cast-iron  enforcement  of  Middle  Ages  "  regulations,  for  the 
repression  of  international  touring  "  ;  and  he  praises  without  stint  the  universal  hospitaUty  shown 
by  the  Canadian  people  not  of  the  customs,  who  arranged  formal  receptions  and  banquets  (m 
the  churches  and  town-halls)  at  Gait,  Woodstock,  Goderich,  Seaforth,  MitcheU,  Stratford  and 
elsewhere.     Rainy  weather  combined  with  the  customs  interference  to  force  the  tourists  (rather 
than  disappoint  the  diixens  of  Gait,  who  had  prepared  to  welcome  them  August  6)  to  ride 
by  train  from   Hamilton,  the  first  day's  ride  being  from  Niagara  to  St.  Catharine's;  but 
the  Rev.   Mr.  Pope  kept  up  the  reputation  of  his  family  by  doing  the  whole  6a  nx  on  his 
wheel,  though  he  found  the  road  from  H.  to  G.  "conspicuously  wretched."    Fnim  there, 
"  next  morning,  s.  and  e.  to  Paris,  then  12  m.  due  w.  to  Princeton,  and  it  m.  to  Woodstock  (a 
total  of  4S  m.,  on  account  of  a  mistaken  detour),  we  found  poor  roads.     From  W.  to  Ingeraoll, 
on  the  forenoon  of  the  8th,  the  surface  was  so  much  better  that  a  few  covered  the  10  m.  in  55 
min.,  and  roost  of  the  others  within  i\  h.     Hilly,  rough,  stony  and  sandy,  by  turns,  were  the 
next  6  m.  to  Thamesfoid ;  and  the  following  10  m.  to  Dreaney's  Comers,  though  generally  level, 
were  nearly  as  vile ;  but  the  final  stretch  thence  to  London  (9  m.)  was  much  better."    Rain  fell 
during  the  Sunday  while  the  party  halted  there ;  so  the  start  on  the  Goderich  road  was  not  made 
until  2  P.  M.,  and  Monday  night  was  spent  at  Exeter.    The  remainder  of  the  route  coincided 
with  my  own— the  second  Sunday  being  spent  in  Toronto,  and  the  goos^you-please  rule  beii% 
adopted  from  there  to  Kingston,  in  order  that  those  who  wished  to  attempt  xoo  m.  m  a  day 
might  do  so  without  appearing  to  be  "  racing  against  the  party."    Five  letters  about  the  tour 
were  written  for  the  Pittsburg  Despatch  by  the  Rev.  J.  F.  Cowan,  of  that  city,  editor  of  the 
"  Methodist  Protestant  Year  Book,"  who  said  (Stratford,  Aug.  14  ):  "  So  far,  there  is  but  one 
opinion  as  to  Canadian  roads.    They  have  been  greatly  overrated.    One  could  hardly  find  142 
m.  of  as  bad  continuous  riding  on  any  main  highway  in  N.  Y.,  N.  J.  or  Pa.    The  50  m.  from 
C^t  to  Woodstock  is  simply  execrable  for  a  wheel ;  while  from  there  to  London,  the  road, 
though  having  a  hard  bottom  and  little  sand,  has  a  very  rough  and  stony  top."    The  magaxine 
article,  before  alluded  to,  reflects  pleasantly  the  general  spirit  of  the  tour,  while  avoiding  de- 
tails, and  is  accompanied  by  a  pair  of  pictures  reproduced  from  Mr.  Holcombe's  photographs, 
and  another  pair  of  ancient  cuts  from  Outing ;  but  its  main  purpose  is  the  argumentative  one  of 
converting  the  souls  of  unbelievers,  that  they  may  pin  their  faith  to  the  bicycle.     Like  a  true 
preacher,  he  uses  the  tour  as  a  text  for  demonstrating  that  there  is  nothing  undignified  or  un- 
clerical  or  unmanly  about  a  sort  of  pleasuring  which  gives  the  weary  worker  new  strength  and 
vigor  for  fighting  the  battles  of  the  Church ;  and  his  sermon  is  good  enough  to  take  rank  as  a 
definite  addition  to  the  literature  of  the  wheel.    Manufacturers  might  do  well  to  mail  a  copy  of 
it  (as  a  tract  productive  of  "  business  ")  to  every  clergyman  in  America.    "  There  are  now  about 
250  or  300  of  these  who  use  the  wheel,"  writes  Mr.  Stall  to  me  (Oct.  23,  '85),  "  and  I  am  sure 
that  next  summer's  clerical  tour  will  be  as  successful  as  the  first  one  and  much  larger.    My 
weight,  which  you  ask  for,  is  145  lbs.,  and  height  is  s  ft.  xo  in.     I  ride  a  56  in.  Expert  on  the 
road,  and  a  tricycle  for  pastoral  work.    I  gained  14  lbs.  while  on  the  tour." 

A  five  days'  ride  (Kingston  to  Toronto,  July  ao-34,  '83)  was  thus  reported  to  me  by  L.  B. 
Graves,  of  Minneapolis :  "  I  rode  a  52  in.  Sanspareil,  and  was  accompanied  F.  C.  Sheam,  of 
Northampton,  Ms.,  on  a  50  in.  Columbia,  though  he  took  the  train  at  Port  Hope,  on  account 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


32s 


of  an  ill-fitting  saddle.  Both  machines  stood  the  journey  admirably,  not  a  nut  or  spoke  coming 
loose;  and  neither  of  us  had  any  kind  of  trouble,  though  riding  (never  coasting)  some  very 
rough  and  steep  hills.  The  roads  were  in  good  condition,  and  no  rain  fell,  and  the  prevailing 
winds  were  westerly.  McDonnell  cyclometer  failed  about  half  in  its  registry,  and  so  we  de- 
pended on  local  information  for  distances.  K.  to  Napanee,  25  m.,  3.45  to  7.45  p.  m.  ;  and  next 
forenoon  to  Belleville,  25  m.  Third  day,  fought  against  a  head-wind  and  reached  Colbome, 
30  m.,  at  7.15  p.  M.,  dinner  having  been  taken  at  Brighton.  Fourth  day,  after  a  h.  stop  for  din- 
ner at  Port  Hope,  I  started  on  alone  at  2  p.  m.,  and  walked  about  2  m.  of  stony  and  hilly  surface 
before  learning  that  I  M  missed  the  road  for  Bowmansville,  by  following  the  telephone  instead 
of  telegraph  poles.  Reaching  the  Millbank  road,  6  m.  out,  I  decided  not  to  turn  back,  but 
went  'cross  country  (10  or  12  m.  in  4  h.)  over  the  poorest  and  sandiest  roads  I  had  ever  seen,— 
indescribably  bad,  mere  holes  through  the  sandbanks, — until  at  last,  tired  out  and  heated 
through,  I  reached  Newtonville  (only  16  m.  from  Port  Hope,  by  the  proper  track),  and  sped 
along  the  next  5  m.  to  Newcastle  in  ^  h.  Fifth  and  final  day,  8.30  a.  m.  to  6  p.  m.,  brought  me 
to  Toronto,  48  m. ;  roads  showing  fine  scenery,  but  steadily  up-grade,  and  increasingly  poor 
towards  the  end,  so  that  I  took  side-path  wherever  practicable.  The  weather  was  very  warm,  and 
at  2  p.  M.  of  26th  I  took  steamer  across  the  lake  to  Lewiston  and  wheeled  thence  to  Niagara, 
7  m.  in  i|  h.  Starting  back  at  1.30  p.  m.  next  day,  I  reached  Lockport,  25  ro.,  in  4  h.  About 
3  m.  from  N.,  on  the  Lewiston  road,  I  turned  r.,  and  thence  had  no  trouble,  as  the  course  is 
pretty  direct.  It  leads  through  a  flat  and  uninteresting  country  of  a  sandy  character,  and  offers 
rather  uncomfortable  riding, — though  I  presume  the  whole  distance  might  be  done  without  dis- 
mount." Three  young  members  of  the  Belleville  B.  C.  (T.  G.  West,  W.  Greatrix  and  F. 
Macown)  rode  from  there  to  Kingston  in  6  h.  ending  at  4  p.  m.,  with  i  h.  at  Napanee  for  dinner 
(Aug.  3,  '83) ;  and,  at  about  the  same  time,  Mr.  Dean,  from  the  Montreal  Bank,  rode  from  B. 
to  K.  and  back,  100  m.,  in  17  h.  ending  at  9  p.  m. 

The  previous  chapter  (pp.  295-298,  301,  306)  may  be  consulted  for  inci- 
dents of  my  own  four  days*  trial  of  this  much-described  route,  from  Toronto 
to  Kingston,  165  m.  I  registered  115  m.  in  my  three  days  to  Belleville,  and 
93  m.  from  Cobourg  to  Kingston, — being  in  each  case  2  m.  less  than  accredited 
to  the  single  day's  rides  between  those  points  (pp.  319, 321).  An  ideal  run,  on  an 
always-smooth  road,  may  be  had  from  Kingston,  4  m.  n.  w.  to  Portsmouth,  pass* 
ing  the  penitentiary  and  asylum  ;  and  another  macadamized  track  extends  w. 
along  the  lake  shore  to  Bath,  21  m.,  passing  Williamsville,  Collinsby  and 
Millhaven;  but  my  own  route  led  e.,  through  Ontario  st,  past  the  barracks, 
across  the  Cataraqui  bridge,  and  i  m.  of  mac.  to  top  of  Barryfield  hill.  I  was 
from  2.40  to  7  P.  M.  in  going  thence  by  direct  road  to  the  International  Hotel 
at  Gananoque,  17  m.,  walking  the  last  m.  on  a  very  smooth  surface,  and  the 
3  m.  preceding  on  a  rough  and  muddy  one,  which  even  in  good  weather  and 
daylight  would  be  difficult  to  ride.  The  3  m.  previous  I  managed  to  cover 
without  dismount,  spite  of  roughness,  up-grades  and  wind.  The  first  4  m. 
out  of  Barr3rfield  were  also  ridable,  though  difficult.  Starting  next  morning, 
in  the  bitingly  frosty  air,  for  an  all  day's  fight  against  the  wind,  I  made  my 
first  halt  at  10  (8^  m.  in  2\  h.),  where  a  road  turned  1.  for  Lansdowne  station ; 
and  I  walked  every  step  for  i  m.,  until  this  road  rejoined  the  main  line  again. 
My  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  was  2  m.,  ending  at  11.45,  ^^^  during  this  25 
min.  of  happiness  I  passed  a  little  village  having  an  *'  Escott  Hotel,''  and 
afterwards  a  "  Springfield  Carriage  Factory  "  adjacent  to  a  post-office.  After 
making  a  detour  1. to  a  r.  r.  station,  in  vain  search  for  a  tavern,  I  found  a  little 


326  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

house  with  a  sign  "  Grocery  "  on  the  main  road,  20  m.  from  the  start ;  and 
there  I  was  served  with  a  dinner  which,  being  my  first  repast  of  the  day, 
tasted  extremely  good.  A  frost-bitten  apple  and  little  piece  of  chocolate  had 
been  my  sole  sustenance  during  5  h.  on  the  road.  I  crossed  a  r.  r.  2  m.  from 
the  grocery,  and  rested  again  after  another  4  m.  Then  I  rode  almost  contin- 
uously till  I  reached  Lynn  (the  first  sizable  village  yet  encountered)  and  the 
church  on  the  top  of  the  hill  beyond  it,  at  3.50 ;  and  I  next  read  my  cyclom- 
eter at  the  post-office  in  Brockville,  6  m.  in  i^  h.  A  peculiarly  brilliant  clay, 
of  reddish  purple  color,  supplied  some  goodish  riding  in  this  region ;  and, 
at  the  fork,  beyond  Lynn,  I  turned  r.,  and  was  told  I  did  wisely,  though  the 
**mine  road"  on  the  1.  would  also  have  brought  me  to  Brockville.  Its 
"  Revere  House,"  opposite  the  post-office,  was  an  attractive-looking  hostelry ; 
but,  as  I  wished  to  improve  the  departing  daylight,  I  turned  my  longing  eyes 
away  from  it,  and  wheeled  down  the  St.  Lawrence  (first  on  wooden  walks 
and  then  on  good  macadam,  in  gentle  undulations),  5  m.,  to  a  wretched  little 
wayside  tavern  at  Maitland,  where  I  stopped  i  h.  for  supper.  Mounting  in 
the  dark  at  7.25,  I  rode  and  walked  by  turns,  over  a  track  of  ideal  smoothness, 
to  a  toll-gate  (3  m.  in  }  h.) ;  and  thence  ventured  on  a  rather  larger  propor- 
tion of  riding  for  the  4  m.  ending  at  9.30  at  the  ferry  in  Prescott.  I  was  too  late 
to  catch  a  boat  across  to  Ogdensburg,  and  win  the  hoped-for  boon  of  resting 
my  weary  bones  in  a  comfortable  bed  at  the  Seymour  House,  where  the 
United  States  flag  was  waving  its  defense  over  my  awaiting  mail-matter ;  and 
so  I  turned  back  from  the  ferry  to  the  little  "  Revere  House  "  (which  seemed 
all  the  dingier  by  suggesting  the  memory  of  its  stone-fronted  namesake  at 
Brockville),  and  reconciled  myself  to  the  acceptance  of  a  couch  of  straw  in  a 
stuffy,  kerosene-lit  bed-room,  by  remembering  that  this  fifteenth  night  in  "  cheap 
Canadian  lodgings  "  was,  at  all  events,  my  last.  These  final  47  m.,  completing 
the  fortnight's  635,  tired  me  more  than  any  previous  day  of  the  tour,  because 
of  the  average  roughness  of  surface  and  the  fierce  gale  of  wind ;  but  I  should 
say  that  the  last  12  m.  of  all  must  supply,  by  daylight,  about  as  pretty  a  stretch 
of  wheeling  as  can  be  found  in  Canada.  For  a  good  share  of  this  distance, 
the  road  is  within  a  few  rods  of  the  river's  surface,  and  a  clear  view  is  to  be 
had  across  it  to  the  New  York  shore.  Even  through  the  dusk,  which  was  set- 
tling about  me  as  I  wheeled  from  Brockville,  the  outlook  seemed  a  fine  one. 

According  to  the  '*  C.  W.  A.  Guide  "  (p.  59),  "  H.  C.  Goodman  and  S.  Carman,  Capt.  and 
Lieut,  of  St.  Catherine's  B.  C,  wheeled  from  that  place  to  Prescott  in  1883,  but  were  there 
forced  by  wet  weather  to  abandon  the  plan  of  reaching  Montreal.  Despite  strenuous  endeavors, 
we  have  been  unable  to  find  any  one  who  has  ridden  from  P.  to  St.  Anne's,  70  m.,  which  is  the 
end  of  our  reported  route  from  Montreal,  34  m.  In  fact,  the  only  report  we  have  been  able  to 
get  e.  of  Gananoque  is  the  general  one  in  the  sketch  prepared  for  us  by  Karl  Kron  (pp.  81-84) 
concerning  his  fortnight  in  Ontario.  Few  Canadian  wheelmen  seem  to  ride  further  e.  than 
Kingston."  A  lounger  in  the  reeking  bar-room  of  the  tavern  at  Prescott  assured  me,  as  a  fact 
within  his  own  knowledge,  that  the  next  40  m.  down  the  river  from  P.  to  Cornwall  were  as 
smooth  as  the  12  m.  I  had  just  traversed;  and  that  he  believed  the  macadam  continued  through 
to  Montreal.  Approximate  truthfulness  on  the  part  of  my  informant  seems  shown  by  this  item 
in  the  Canadian  1Vh**lman  (Oct.,  '84),  "  Sandy  McCaw  wheeled  from  Toronto  to  Cora  wall. 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


327 


about  375  m.,  in  four  days,  last  month,  doing  upwards  of  80  m.  on  two  of  the  days ;  and  he 
would  have  kept  on  to  Montreal  but  for  rain."  M.  is  about  65  ro.  beyond  C,  and  ao  m.  beyond 
St  Anne*s,  which  is  the  point-of>beginning  of  the  river-route  for  Quebec  presented  in  the  next 
paragraph.  This  I  condense  from  the  excellent  report  prepared  for  me  by  F.  M.  S.  Jenkins, 
Captain  of  the  Ottawa  B.  C.  {tVketl  printed  it  in  full,  Dec.  12,  19,  '84);  and,  as  an  introduction 
to  his  story,  I  remark  that  S.  T.  Greene,  of  Belleville,  rode  from  Prescott  to  Ottawa,  54  m. 
(July  7,  '85,  4  A.  u.  to  3  p.  M.},  in  about  8  h.,  though  the  return  ride  could  be  done  in  6  h. ; 
and  I  offer  a  route  from  Brockville  to  Ottawa  ("  C.  W.  A.  Guide,"  p.  61)  :  "  Between  Brockville 
and  Smith's  Falls,  30  m.,  is  a  mac.  road,  out  of  repair  in  Sept.,  '83,  and  unsatisfactory  for  wheel- 
ing, but  it  has  no  bad  hills,  leads  through  many  villages  with  fair  hotels,  and  can  be  covered  in 

6  h.  Butler's  Hotel,  at  S.  F.,  is  a  good  one,  and  the  route  from  Ottawa  thither  may  be  thus 
shown  :  Wellington  St.,  i  m.  w. ;  across  r.  r.  to  Hutonburg  Comers,  t  m. ;  good  mac.  to 
Birchton,  i^  m. ;  to  blacksmith's  shop,  i^  m.  (detour  r.  to  bathing  beach  on  lake  shore) ;  to  Am- 
pnor  road,  i  m. ;  toll-gate,  2}  m. ;  t.  s.  at  Bell's  Comers  and  follow  mac.  road  5}  m.  to  O'Mara's 
Hotel,  easy  down-grade;  toll-gate,  3}  m.,  with  Jock  river  on  1.;  Richmond,  2}  m.,  where  stands 
Rielly's  Hotel,  a  big  stone  Imilding  which  offen  excellent  fare.  The  scenery  to  this  point  is 
ihe  finest, — making  a  pleasant  trip  of  ai  h.  on  light  up-grades,  and  the  return  requires  i^  h.  less. 
'file  labor  of  covering  the  next  29  m.  to  Smith's  Falls  is  hardly  repaid  unless  the  tourist  has  ample 
time.  Very  slow  wheeling  may  be  had  on  12  of  the  16  m.  leading  to  Franktown,  and  nearly 
4  m.  of  sand  must  be  walked.  The  final  stretch  to  S.  F.  is  not  dissimilar,  though,  at  a  point 
4  m.  beyond  F.,  a  detour  may  be  made  to  Perth,  8  nu,  along  a  clay  road  which  is  good  in  dry 
weather.  Hick's  Hotel  recommended."  Shorter  routes  from  Ottawa  I  quote  from  the  same 
authority :  "  Wellington  st.  w.  and  Bridge  st.  n.  \  m.  along  car  tracks  to  Suspension  bridge  (fine 
view  of  Chaudiere  Falls) ;  s.  and  w.  ^  m.  to  Hull ;  t.  1.  at  first  cor.  after  crossing  bridge ;  next  t.  r. 
and  keep  n.  w.  i  m.  mac.  to  toll-gate ;  n.  5  m.  to  Ironsides,  where  is  an  iron  mine.  Beyond,  i  m., 
is  a  }  m.  hill  which  can  be  wheeled  up,  and  gives  magnificent  coast  on  retum.  Chelsea  is  2  m. 
from  the  summit,  and  the  road  from  O.  to  C.  can  be  ridden  in  all  weathers, — often  in  i  h.  Scenery 
!»  very  beautiful,  with  Ottawa  and  Gatineau  rivers  to  n.  e.  and  Laurentian  mts.  n.  and  n.  w.  GiU 
mour's  Park  is  worth  visiting  at  C.  and  the  mills  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  near  which  a  good  swim 
may  be  had.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Tueaches  Lake,  5  m.  from  Chelsea,  along  a  road  of 
frand  scenery."  The  favorite  run  of  the  O.  B.  C.  is  to  Aylmer,  "  a  summer  resort  on  w. 
•Jiore  of  Lake  Deschcne,  about  8  m.  of  mac.  which  can  always  be  relied  on  for  i  h.  outward 
trip  (up-grade)  and  40  min.  homeward.  Turn  s.  w.  at  Hull ;  pass  Eddy's  factory ;  }  m.  beyond 
iook  out  for  r.  r.  crossing ;  right  up  a  hill  beyond  toll-gate ;  Moore's  hill  is  safe  to  coast ; 
pass  a  hotel  about  \  m.  from  toll-gate  and  take  r.  side ;  then  6  m.  s.  w.  to  Pitcher's  Hotel  in  A." 
From  O.  to  Metcalfe  is  "  all  mac.  except  the  last  ij  m.,  which  is  clay,  good  when  dry, 
Bank  st.  s.  to  toU^ate,  f  m.  ;  Patterson's  Creek  bridge,  \  m. ;  driving  park  and  toll-gate,  |m.; 
canal  swing  bridge,  \  m. ;  Lansdown  park  and  slight  ascent,  followed  by  fine  \  m.  coast  to 
BiHmgs  bridge,  which  crosses  Indian  river.  The  road  up  w.  bank  to  Manotick,  i\  m.,  to  toll- 
gate  and  \  m.  to  Bridge,  is  a  long  ascent  which  can  be  wheeled,  and  coasted  on  retum.  O'Neil's 
Hotel  is  8  m.  s.,  and  Metcalfe  9  m.  beyond.  A  pace  of  7  ro.  per  h.  can  easily  be  kept."  Ot- 
awa  to  Eastman  Springs:  "  Nicholas  st.  s.,  good  mac.  \  m.  to  canal  deep-cut ;  then  e.  ^  m.  to 
the  Ridean  river  at  Hurdman's  bri^e,  whose  ends  are  bad ;  s.  e.  i  m.  to  r.  r.  crossing ;  s.  e.  t^  m . 
to  tofl-gate  at  Hawthorne ;  and  the  mac.  ends  at  church  and  cemetery  t\  m.  e.    Taylorworth  is 

7  m.  from  church,  and  Eastman  Springs  3  m.  beyond.  Sand  must  be  walked  for  i  m.  from  church ; 
rest  of  road  is  clay,  good  in  dry  weather,  unridable  when  wet."  In  leaving  Ottawa  for  Mon- 
treal, the  best  route  leads  through  "  Rideau  st.  e.  }  m.  to  Rideau  hill,  and  a  bad  bridge  at 
bottom  over  Rideau  river ;  and  the  road  leading  up  this  connects  with  Eastman  Springs  and 
Metcalfe  roads.  From  bridge,  go  s.  e  to  toll-gate  and  e.  to  r.  r.  crossing,  |  m. ;  then  10  m.  e.  to 
St.  Josephs  (2  m.  up-grade  before  reaching  Queen's  Creek)."  This  was  the  route  taken  by  Mr. 
Jenkins  (b.  July  6,  1859;  weight,  145  lbs. ;  Premier  54  in.),  whose  report  I  now  append  : 

"  I  left  Ottawa  with  a  tricycling  companion  on  the  afternoon  of  Aug.  9,  '84,  and  we  rode  to 
(Harenoe,  25  m.,  that  evening ;  next  to  Caledonia  Sjnrings,  25  m. ;  third  forenoon  to  Hawkeabury, 


328 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


IS  in.,  whence  I  proceeded  alone  in  afternoon  to  Rigaud,  19  m.  Leaving  at  10  a.  m.  of  Tues- 
day, I  dined  and  spent  4he  afternoon  at  St.  Anne's,  ai  m.,  and  rode  into  Montreal,  20  m.,  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening,  taking  tea  en  rout*  at  Lachine.  My  experience  was  a  very  pleasant  one, 
and  I  can  reconunend  the  route  to  all  who  are  content  with  50  m.  a  day.  For  record  break- 
ers it  would  be  a  mistake.  The  great  drawback  is  that  the  road  bottom  is  blue  day,  and  a  little 
rain  renders  it  unridable — a  downpour,  impassable  on  wheel  or  foot.  On  this  account,  I  have 
particularized  such  facilities  for  escape  as  steamboats  and  trains  afiEord.  Ottawa  to  St.  Joseph 
village,  10  m.,  good  mac. ;  two  hotels.  Macadam  ends,  in  3  m.,  and  there  is  4  m.  of  fair  clay 
road  to  Cumberland ;  two  hotels.  Thence  to  Clarence,  9  m.,  all  ridable ;  i  m.  sandy,  rest 
clay.  At  Thurso,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  from  Clarence,  a  better  hotel  may  be 
found.  C.  to  Wendover,  7  m.  clay.  The  Ottawa  river  is  in  view  all  the  way  from  O.  to  W. , 
and  the  scenery  is  very  beautiful.  At  W.  the  road  bends  inland,  and  after  4  m.  the  Nation  river 
is  sighted.  At  Plantagenet,  3  m.,  the  road  crosses  and  leaves  this  river,  and  for  5  m.  to  Alfred 
(two  hotels)  is  too  sandy  for  wheeling.  The  road  changes  to  clay  again,  \  m.  beyond  A.,  and 
gives  a  perfectly  level,  straight  stretch  for  10  m.  At  Alfred  Comers,  5  m.,  the  Grand  Hotel  at 
Caledonia  Springs  can  be  seen,  i  m.  off  on  r.  t. ;  but  I  kept  straight  on,  under  the  sign  of  the 
Ottawa  Hotel,  to  Cassbum  Comers,  6  m.  clay  and  2  m.  sandy  loam,  all  ridable.  Of  the  two 
roads  thence,  the  direct  one  to  Hawkesbury  (which  is  a  pretty  village,  worth  an  hour's  loiter,  at 
the  mills  and  deer-parks)  is  very  sandy,  while,  by  turning  to  the  1.  at  the  Comers,  the  wheelman 
will  enjoy  2  m.  good  mac.  to  L'Original,  whence,  to  Hawkesbury,  the  ride  is  a  charmins  one 
over  good  gravel,  close  to  the  river  bank.  There  are  fair  hotels  at  both  places ;  also  ferries  con- 
necting with  the  C.  P.  r.  r.,  and  boats  for  Ottawa  and  Montreal.  From  H.  to  Point  Fortune, 
12  m.,  there  is  ridable  sand  for  2  m.,  but  the  rest  is  too  stony  for  f^t  riding.  A  few  m.  from  H. 
a  long  up-grade  is  encountered,  from  the  top  of  which  a  magnificent  view  of  the  Ottawa  Long 
Soult  Rapids  is  obtainable.  A  market  steamer  for  Montreal  runs  three  times  a  week  from  Point 
Fortune.  A  very  good  clay  road  extends  thence  to  Rigaud,  2  ro.  (beautifully  situated  on  tite 
Rigaud  river,  i^  ra.  from  the  Ottawa),  and  its  two  French  hotels  offer  better  accommodation 
than  P.  F..  Of  the  18  m.  from  R.  to  Vaudreuil,  good  clay  prevails  for  7  m.,  and  the  rest  Itas 
stony  patches  that  call  for  careful  riding ;  but  the  scenery  atones  for  all  shortcomings.  The  road 
winds  along  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of  Two  Mountains,  so  near  its  edge  that  the  perspiring 
wheelman  has  but  to  lay  his  bike  against  a  tree  to  enjoy  a  plunge  in  its  clear,  cool  waters.  Coroo 
and  Hudson,  hamlets  passed  en  r<mU^  are  summer  resorts  of  many  Montrealers,  and  charming 
lake  shore  villas  abound.  After  so  many  m.  of  '  Bon  jour.  Monsieur,'  the  English-speaking  tour- 
ist will  feel  tempted  to  linger  here,  just  to  have  his  ears  tickled  by  the  dear  familiar  '  English 
as  she  is  spoke.'  Vaudreuil  is  on  the  line  of  the  Grand  Trunk  r.  r.  which  here  crosses  the  river 
to  St.  Anne's,  and  affords  the  wheelman  the  best  means  of  crossing,  if  he  is  so  fortunate  as  to 
find  a  passing  train.  On  wheel,  the  3  m.  across  Isle  Parent  to  St.  Anne's  is  very  slow  work, 
and  necessitates  dependence  in  the  end  on  a  ferryman  who  is  always  at  his  dinner  on  the  other 
side  when  you  want  him.  Satisfactory  accommodation  may  be  had  at  the  Clarendon,  a  laige 
summer  hotel  on  the  water's  edge  at  St.  Anne's.  Thence  the  road  mns  along  the  river  bank, 
and,  after  7  m.  rough  and  stony  clay  to  Point  Oaire,  affords  excellent  mac.  wheeling  for  13  m. 
to  Montreal.  The  outward  route  from  M.  is  Sherbrooke  st.  w.  i^  m. ;  Cote  St.  Antoine,  1 
m. ;  s.  }  m.  and  then  on  upper  Lachine  road,  2}  m.  w.  to  C^te  St.  Luke  ;  gradual  descent  and 
good  coasting  to  Blue  Bonnets,  \  m.  •,  Reilly's  Crossing,  i  m. ;  Lower  Lachine,  i  m. ;  Upper 
Lachine,  i  J  m.  ;  river  bank  to  Dorval,  %\  m.  ;  Valois,  2^  m. ;  Point  Claire,  z\  ro. 

"  '  Montreal  to  Quebec '  has  not  yet  been  done  by  wheel.  As  I  had  heard  tliat  the  road 
along  the  n.  shore  was  rough  and  sandy,  I  chose  the  s.  shore,  taking  ferry  to  Longneuil.  From 
L.  to  Boucherville,  5  m.,  the  road  is  a  rough  mac,  which  it  is  a  relief  to  exchange  for  the  very 
fair  clay  which  extends  from  B.  through  Varennes,  to  Vcrcheres,  16  m.  (which  has  a  good  French 
hotel,  with  the  unusual  luxury  of  a  bath-room,  and  a  market  steamer  running  daily  to  Mon- 
treal).  Beyond  V.,  I  found  the  road  difficult,  and  soon  unridable,  being  hopelessly  sandy.  At 
Sorel,  25  m.  further,  a  party  of  surveyors  told  me  that  the  road  continued  sandy  for  at  least  90 
m., — as  far  as  they  had  been, — so  sandy,  indeed,  as  to  be  difficult  with  horse  find  carriage.    Of 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


329 


always  fooc-path  and  grass  chances,  and  a  wheelman,  with  plenty  of  time 
do  the  trip  very  well ;  but,  as  1  was  impatiently  looking  forward  to  Lower 
and  was  restricted  as  to  time,  I  took  the  boat  at  S.  for  Quebec  In 
there  1  find  my  enthusiasm  rising  to  a  degree  that  makes  it  difficult  to 
The  stimulating  salt  air,  grand  scenery,  and  fishing  and  shooting 
offers,  render  this  260  m.  of  straightaway  riding  a  most  utisfactory  vaca« 
spinning  ol  60  or  70  m.  a  day  would  seem  really  heavenly,  but  for  (he 
■eat  has  the  rarity  of  ai^els'  visits  in  this  French-Canadian  region,  Sail 
can  be  procured;  but  this  diet  won't  give  a  wheelman  win^^s.  It  is  m>t  a 
I  have,  however,  discovered  possibilities  of  beefsuak  in  the  foll&fkiog  mV^ 
wttaia  tje  asmat  will  do  well  to  note  and  arrai^e  his  wheeling;  hourt  accordingly  :  Moot* 
L~LkS*-.  £jv:ktc  OoeUe,  Karoowraska,  Notre  Dame  du  Portage,  and,  of  o-^urse,  V.'vAkjt 
icfigfe  HcQses  which  is  a  railway  center,  and  Caouna,  5  m.  U:>oct<l,  •h:<-  h  t»  rhe 
■jnamaa  ""»'"■—■'  r^acrt  -Sc  Lawrence  Hall,  $2.50;  Mansion  House,  $t  y,i  I  hjui  6n< 
i2  -jm  •mxx  fran  ''^atbec  to  C.  131  m.  Of  the  road  frcm  L^ctaic^  v»  It^ai  P.v/,  *%^  i/-> 
3mnr  msak  TiZri,  'jcnzh  I  went  sereral  m.  below  C,  and  fouiwi  i:  pas*.;i  j^".  for  a  ^u-.>''..< , 
le  zmuzjaas  iwiii  i*.  ek  iz  preserTcd  the  same  character  the  re>c  of  'i>t  «a/  1;  ji,  tjvm- 
mti  iiiL  ■■  I '  I  i-rr  a  a-cycJe,  cwin^  to  hijh  grass  ridges  br:««n  zh^  mz^.f.',  'rzcjuk ;  uui 
a^  x^  •  mai.  rr  a  trarinjer  ax  k:-.iere  du  Loup,  I  tooJc  train  f/00:  C  ic  Trow  pjif/.i-s 
s  1  -^i-Tsinnenr  sacirR  :k  '.he  Interco'coial  Railway,  ar/i  tx;*l.<ti:  acr.  «r.T.r»ij*.oc  -an  a« 
r  3^  -aouraat.  T^ier^  is  a  g  vud  beach  f'jr  tirhic^  =<car  tj.  TYjcz^.^  '/>  Lx,  j « m.  '«m» 
Zm^  :-i~  jr-:nga  5c.  S-rsoo  la  i>«.  Fao'^an  'nc  h#xsl<  .  ao  =,,  ih«*?i  ch-*";-^  \,  zmf  uut 
s  »Ta  -T»=-'  31.  nsrl  a=  Ljc.  it  -j  seary  perfect.  Th*  JocEitry  co  ti.i  ,»«t  ii  -n  :s  j*r» 
-^     J— m  Tr^ia  ?*ii:.-«e»  *ti*  nacL  whxh  has  ciua^  t^  :bc  »h»-.r»  *7  i,  ••.  .  -n-.'    rajti>3i  a. 


IS  r     us  irf:  ii-'    uui  -.Ui  -j«  ruai  €•«»  t.  zjtmi  zimjtvjx,  rrrta^i«  a  »•>:«;=.-«  yr-jfrytct 
31 — li^  •  If irsa.  mii  :« — .vti'-jt  l— •.'St  _r:_:j«,»  wiirr-rtu:::  :c  '-ui   •'    1  a  w*r\*-r 


"^     T'lidcr   r:    iunmimi.  =3  3L    '-lit  rraid  3  a    j^_i»  src:  ;:;r  2  a.   '-^  ■•  .rtr»  r*'i— it   Z-*-*  a 
i   Tas^rt-    afvr  "viiiTa    r   Liri;-^   a.-.*;   as  rii    tii  «    ia_' ii* '.,r-»    » :r?^.:-^ 
1.-^       ite  "■Jii  ^  is«   rrx-r:     i.-:#i  -i.-»  a.— .^   -:,;   :jt.ii-_:      7'. -rt  ij-i  -..  i..l« 
:_•  3.SC.  ici*.   Jft   91*.'  tTUS    :aa     ~i.ii'  ■■'J    jn-:«.^:r   -ir  jr.  a.      r»   i^^r  ?  ..ru    » 
•  =.  r-Mi  i_      "u   hniBiB"?     -aa  a  'i;  -•.  --:  .c  -m^r.'-.rr.  ami   :-  -*-  jz  -  .r  jut   .jxuitlui 
-•■-  --'  -    ^i,^  «= — »2.      \Lm1u.»  it*  'rc-»»— t*! 'Jill  iir  ;•»  -*!    ir»t  «.-"  i«»-^  ••:  -  rt^  '."  ernier 
r^      r':«?  wnuci  t.   ■'  rt-n.-r-i.'^ar-'  Vnr-^   im.  -i:-».:.rt  r-  m   r-.fi  ..  tnji.      rr. 
.   a_  lartier    aui.  --f.   J'^  -t    ^»  #,r  ai  r.»       si  ar     :*•.-  nil.     .*     :•    J    :5e   »-it 


*  — '  — *- 

Ji^    '1    -Id  -5.  •.  —.r  rii.: —   -lir   i 


■^^       ^m^     i   ^7^  ^3^      ^D^    ^T"  flM^^^'  ^^         **  *^    ^  '        ~r* 


«**«         s,.^ 


330 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


wtky  century,  starting  from  Trob  Pistoles ;  for  there  are  70  m.  of  beautiful  wheeling,  and  the 
other  30  are  by  no  means  bad.  The  4  or  5  unridable  hills  are  steep  rather  than  long,  and  would 
not  cause  much  delay ;  while  Bic,  Ramouski  and  Little  Metis  could  be  depended  on  for  good, 
hearty  fare.  This  whole  route  along  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence  I  cannot  too  highly  commend ;  for, 
besides  the  scenic  attractions  which  I  've  only  hinted  at,  it  has  a  peculiar  social  interest,  in  that 
it  introduces  the  wheelman  to  a  region  where  the  old  Feudal  System  still  exists.  Though  modi* 
fied  into  some  semblance  of  consistency  with  modem  ideas  of  equity,  the  change  is  a  recent  one, 
and  has  really  been  effected  on  paper  only,  the  original  customs  still  obtaining  to  a  degree  that 
gives  a  distinct  character  to  these  people.  Distances  are  reckoned  by  leagues,  half  leagues  and 
acres ;  superstitions  of  a  past  age  are  cherished ;  and  quaint  little  customs  of '  the  long-ago '  sur- 
prise us  at  every  turn.  In  short,  the  trip  offers  a  refreshing  dive  into  a  past  century ;  and  1  'm 
already  arranging  to  repeat  it  next  year,  when  I  hope  also  to  penetrate  into  New  Brunswick.  ** 

As  for  this  '85  trip,  it  extended  only  from  Quebec  to  Little  Metis,  and  was  taken  by 
three  members  of  the  Ottawa  B.  C.  :  Jenkins,  Roy,  and  Harrison.  The  beach  roads,  having 
been  injured  by  the  spring  floods,  were  not  as  good  as  in  '84.  A  September  paragraph  says: 
"  Alphonse  Hamel  and  Colin  Hetherington,  amateur  oarsmen,  rode  from  Quebec  to  Riviere  du 
Loup,  122  m.  in  24  h.,  Aug.  i,  '85.'*  In  Aug.,  '83,  H.  Roy,  above  named,  "  took  the  n.  shore 
from  Quebec  to  Montmorenci  Falls,  7^  m.,  and  Chateau  Richer,  8^  m.,  finding  splendid  mac 
and  magnificent  coasting.  The  next  6  m. ,  to  St.  Anne,  was  so  poor  that  he  crossed  to  the  s. 
shore  and  continued  on  to  Cacouna,  finding  everything  delightful,  '  except  the  ham  and  egg;s, 
three  times  a  day.' "  The  route  from  Q.  to  C.  is  thus  given  by  W.  N.  Campbell  (109  St.  Peter 
St.,  Quebec) :  **  Cross  river  to  Point  Levi;  then  a  10  m.  mac.  to  Beaumont ;  9  m.  sand  and 
loam  to  St.  Valier  (good  hotel) ;  7^  m.  loam  to  Berthier ;  7  m.  gravel  to  St.  Thomas  (splendid, 
except  first  m.) ;  18  m.  loam  and  gravel  to  L'Islet  (fair  hotel) ;  9  m.  to  St.  Jean  Port  Joti,  good 
level  loam  and  gravel ;  fair  then  for  9  m.  to  St.  Roch,  and  9  m.  to  St.  Anne ;  ridable  but  difficult 
clay  thence  to  Riviere  Quelle  ;  then  hilly  but  good  for  12  m.  to  Kamoiuaska ;  clay  and  loam  to 
St.  Andre,  9  m. ;  loam  and  gravel  to  Notre  Dame  du  Portage,  8  m.;  gravel  to  Rividre  du  Loup,  6 
m.,  and  loam  to  Cacouna,  5  m.  Even  a  little  rain  makes  these  roads  bad;  much  makes  them 
unridable."  By  contrast,  the  16  m.  from  Q.  to  Chateau  Richer  b  called  "  excellent  at  all  sea- 
sons and  in  all  weathers;  average  time,  ij  h."  Likewise  the  w.  road  from  Q.  to  St.  Foy,  5  m., 
and  Cap  Rouge,  4  m.,  "is  always  ridable  and  none  the  worse  for  a  considerable  rain.** 
Good  mac.  also  stretches  n.  w.  from  Q.  to  Charlesbourg,  3  m.,  and  St.  Pierre,  5  m. ;  whence 
Stoneham,  7  m.,  may  be  reached  on  rather  poor  road  of  sand  and  loam.  Hills  of  ^  m.  and  |  m. 
are  to  be  met  before  reaching  St.  P.  A  three  days'  run  from  Point  Levi  to  Cacouna,  as  re- 
ported by  C.  M.  Douglass  {Outing,  Dec,  '84,  p.  177),  is  called  "  the  first  one  along  that  road,** 
though  happening  a  year  after  Mr.  Roy's  ride  from  St.  A.  to  C. ;  and  he  says :  **  A  splendid  5 
m.  run,  near  Riviere  du  Loup,  on  excellent  gravel,  just  by  the  water's  edge,  was  an  exceptional 
luxury ;  for  parts  of  the  route  were  decidedly  bad ;  and  often  a  baked,  humpy,  clay  road  forced 
us  either  to  get  off  and  walk,  or  else  be  seriously  jolted.'*   . 

As  the  main  roads  of  the  Dominion  show  a  better  average  excellence  than  those  of  the 
Union,  there  is  a  certain  appropriateness  in  the  fact  that  the  earliest-printed  of  American  road- 
books should  be  the  work  of  Dominion  wheelmen.  Indeed,  the  first  trail  made  on  this  continent 
by  the  rubber  tire  of  a  modem  bicycle  is  accredited  to  A.  T.  Lane,  one  of  the  founders  of  the 
Montreal  B.  C,  who  imported  thither  a  50  in.  Coventry  in  season  to  take  his  first  ride  July  i, 
1874 ;  while  H.  S.  Tibbs,  captain  of  the  same  club,  took  a  300-m.  tour  in  England  that  same  year. 
Importing  thence  a  Challenge  bicycle  he  took  his  first  ride  on  it  in  M.,  Aug.  15,  '77;  and  he 
won  a  medal  for  2  m.  at  the  first  bicycle  race  ever  held  in  Canada,  June  7,  '79.  As  for  the  little 
volume,  from  which  I  've  already  made  many  extracts,  its  title-page  reads  thus  :  **  The  C.  W.  A. 
Guide  Book,  containing  descriptions  of  Canadian  roads,  hotels,  consuls,  etc. ,  with  the  constitu* 
tion  and  by-laws  of  the  Association  (organized,  Sept.,  1882).  Published  by  order  of  the  board  of 
officers,  Apnl,  1884.  H.  B.  Donly,  W.  G.  Eakins,  J.  S.  Brierley,  editors."  It  has  128  pp.  (in- 
cluding 20  pp.  of  advertisements),  6  by  4  in.  in  size,  bound  in  flexible  cloth  covers ;  is  }  in.  thidc 
and  weighs  3  oz.     It  is  mailed  for  50  c  by  H.  B.  Donly,  Secretary  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's 


A 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


•wfr,  Simcoe.OaL.od 
wigcd  alphabeiicaUy  ai 


Si.  Thomu,  LoadoD,  St.  Maiy't,  Goderich,  Pun  Elgin,  WsDdsiodt,  'Ztauij 
ion,  Gudph.  Toronto,  BfUfville,  Otliwi,  llonlru],  Qoeb«."  Suiipa 
hiHflH,  npnir-mhopa,  local  dubs,  riding  rtimcdou.  ind  lIk  likt,  w  E:rc£ 
■  5  abjective  points ;  and  "Ihf  whHlmnn  on  an  utfndBl  tour  will  hjn  DC 

Jrc  pryiled  with  il,  the  tonria  knom  whtre  to  apply  when  he  wi&hn  fw  i^ 
book  CODtaim  \  atkt  no  one  worthy  of  the  nunc  of  Eouriti  &houkS  fanunx  to 
out  fim  porchanng  a  copy  of  it  to  carry  in  hia  pocket-    The  edlttn  uk 


ofluea,  until  the  book  iodudei  every  highway,  lointand  vir^^e  in  the  Dv;.-., 
edition,  however,  win  tiof  really  appear  until  ^B6;  and  tl  *iIiccuLrl<u!jc  4:.;^ . 
df^^ottii*,  [or  the  absence  of  uch  indei  ii  the  nwu  lerioui  dtfea  tt  Hj-  im 
the  "  C.  W.  A.  Guide  "al»  issued  1  id  c  lUp  ol  tjntino,  in  1i,  ■!  .Ji  -  int: 
of  (he  menbcTfl  of  tbe  Association"  among  wVep  the  er^Lre  hLiI-a  vu 
tpring  of'Ssi  eicept  about  joof  the  Soocopio.  Detuned  Ly  Ui.  {-.•-^av  u 
Aleiander,  Oarr  A  Cable,  o(  ToTDnio  lj>  by  i^iti..  i«m.  to  ■  i:  .  &t  luc. 
rrpofled  routes  in  red,  and  the  county  lines  in  b'ack.  but  mantes  i»  ir--^t-y.  v 
jins,  rivers,  and  railroads,  or  the  quality  of  the  routes  laid  Ajwn.  S'-rtr'- 
metul  Bupplement  to  the  guide's  ttatutlca ;  and  a  wrCar  chart  Iw  <Jbe  Vrrr  : 

Hding  season.    The  940  copies  of  the  first  ed^'ion  hare  iZ  bete  C-iyft^  ■£  ; 

venience-  As  regards  other  maps,  the  Cjiad^aik  P.  O.  I>e^'t  Iv-jn  irirjL  'J.  J , 
[he  CoIlonsfiSi  William  >L,  N.  V-jpubli-i  three,  17  by  r%  i-^.  a:  71 1  ti-A 
Ontario,  with  adjacent  pans  t(  P.  Q.  and  L'.  S. ;  the  v.iai,  'j^'r'.  1-^  \-i 
apian  of  Manitoba  i  the  third,  Nnva.Sc-^ia,  Cape  Bref*.,  P-  Ki  I-:  M,:i- 
Bmnsirick  and  parti  of  P.  Q.  and  V.  S.  Th-j  alv,  ■-•..-  _J„;*.  tfj-. 
DoouaioD  (mouBted,  tiD^  which  includes  Vrw  E^izA,  S'.w  \-i  e,.-  ■.,-, 
with  separate  plans  of  enviroiu  of  Moritrea!.  N'izira  ar^  l^Mjt  ^--^^rr   v<i 

is  published  by  C.  H.  Adams  a  Srn,M  P^k.TJi«.S  y 

The  routen  of  the  guide,  u  already  n^«vj,  art  ^rea  :v  a  5— j^*    v   V  ■ 

«™eiy,  on  Lake  Erie  (Fraser  House,  e.t™t  rewn.  .■^.  -•-  ',  .«  „.,„', 
Jia),  and  ia  reached  by  a  "fairly  g'**!  gravel  r*d.  "'r'  ■  ^  i^.'^  »  :v:'--'-r 
TalboHL.e.  iim.  fromSt.  T.  toATJi>er'-J-.r^,^Vi~„-«  ■,..^  1,. 
i*  "goodgravel.thougbvery  hilly";  atJaiar'Y  f«i"»i  ■«  r-r-  r-^  .,.. 
lothe  lake  shore  at  Port  Burwell,  ry  m.,  thr-j-.T^  M-  '■<-—  .-,^  '.,— .-!..■< 
toSmcoe  and  Hamilton,  84  m..  prve^  fft  p.  113  /  A  4rv?  t  •  "t\'^ '/ <, 
(p.  }  11)  la  Chatham  leads  Ibrou^h  Richnvrkd  a-vl  f>xiL?  n  v.  Wr^-n.^.*.^ 
m. ;  Delaware,  6  m.  (two  heavy  hilm  Xjgjfm'fA  r-Ai  v.  y*  v».."^   '  H 


332 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


m.  from  L.  is  good  gravel ;  and  a  fairly  ridable  road  extends  from  C.  s.  5  m.  to  Charing  Cro6&, 
and  so  to  Buckhom,  just  e.  of  Dealtown,  where  my  first  day's  ride  ended  (p.  310).     The  w.  roate 
from  L.  to  Sarnia  (at  the  foot  of  Lake  Huron,  aad  opposite  Port  Huron,  Mich.)  is  a  beautiful 
gravel  road  of  68  m.,  very  level,  except  a  few  hills  near  Warwick,  which  is  4  m.  n.  w.  of  Wat- 
ford, which  is  36  m.  w.  of  L.    A  fair  but  rather  hilly  route  extends  from  W.  \  m.  e.  and  then  ^\ 
m.  s.  along  the  Navoo  road  to  Alvinston,  whence  a  ridable  road  extends  to  Thamesville,  35  m., 
on  the  Chatham  route.     From  Watford  to  Forrest,  "  take  x8th  side  road  n.  xo  m.,  fair  gravel ; 
then  w.  on  6th  concession  ;  then  5  side  lines  (clay  and  gravel,  good  only  when  dry) ;  then  n.  i  m. 
to  F. ,  and  splendid  wheeling  beyond  it  to  Stony  Point  and  Kettle  Point  on  Lake  Huron."     From 
Watford  to  Ailsa  Craig  (which  is  5  m.  s.  w.  of  Clandeboye,  p.  313),  *'  take  the  iSth  side  road  w. 
4^  m.  and  then  London  road  e.  15  m.  to  old  toll-gate ;  then  n.  13  m.  to  A.  C.     Nearly  all  grave! 
and  fine  wheeling,  on  which  the  rain  has  little  or  no  bad  efiPect    The  road  from  L.  to  Strathroy, 
26  m.,  which  has  been  done  without  dismount  (p.  319),  leads  over  Blackfriar*s  Bridge  to  Poplar 
Hill,  18  m.,  and  at  S.  is  about  3^  m.  s.  of  the  Watford  road.     Good  gravel  extends  from  S.  to 
Delaware,  la  m. ;  and  n.  w.  from  S.  to  Forrest,  28  m.,  through  Ryckman's  Corners,  AdTelaide 
and  Arkona ;  but  rain  soon  spoils  this  n.  w.  route.    From  L.  n.  e.  through  Thomdale  to  Sl 
Mary's,  24  m.,  the  surface  is  mostly  gravel,  of  varying  goodness ;  thence  n.  i3  m.  to  Mitchell  (p. 
314)  it  is  good  gravel,  passing  through  Mclntyre's  Comers,  3  m.,  and  Fullerton,  9  m.  beyoud. 
From  Mclntyre's  to  Exeter  (p.  313)  18  m.,  good  gravel  prevails,  except  2  m.,  and  there  are  a  few 
high  hills  w.  of  Kirkton,  8  m.,  the  next  village  being  Winchelsea,  4  m.     St.  Mary's  e.  la  m.  to 
Stratford  (p.  317)  is  a  hard  gravel  road,  hilly  and  rough  for  the  fi.-st  3  m.,  the  rest  gently  rolltn]; 
and  very  good, — Conroy  p.  o.  being  half  way.     St.  Mary's  s.  24  m.to  Ingersoll  (p.  324) :  ".Blaos- 
hard  gravel  road,  hilly  and  poor,  2  m.  e.  to  Medina,  where  t  s.  to  Nissouri  gravel  road,  or  lotli 
concession,  to  Kintore,  10  m.,  moderately  good;  then  Thamesford,  6  m.,  medium ;  then  Inger- 
soll, 6  m.,  rough  gravel,  mostly  down  hill."     From  Clinton  (p.  313)  to  Bayfield,  9  m.  s.  w.,  "  fine 
for  ^\  m. ;  series  of  hills  for  i  m. ;  splendid  level  stretch  for  2  m. ;  remainder  broken,  and  si> 
crooked  that  way  must  be  inquired.     Good  riding  at  Bayfield  on  lake  shore,  and  thence  a  road 
due  e.  to  Seaforth,  17m.,  which  can  be  ridden  without  dismount."    The  n.  road  of  20  m.  from 
Clinton  is  through  Londsboro,  6  m.,  hard  gravel ;  Blythe,  5  m. ;  Belgrave,  4  m.;  to  Winghan. 
5  m.    A  turn  to  1.  around  a  long  but  ridable  hill  is  made  a  m.  n.  of  L.,  and  then  a  slight  L  r. 
hills  must  also  be  climbed  at  Blythe  and  Belgrave,  and  the  roads  there  are  not  very  good.    LucV 
now  (p.  315)  is  12  m.  w.  of  W.,  on  county  side  line  road,  part  sand,  part  gravel,  and  very  htllv 
Simcoe,  the  home  of  the  chief  compiler  of  the  guide,  is  just  half-way  along  the  84  m.  rou: 
from  Aylmer  (p.  331)  to  Hamilton  (p.  324),  and  8  m.  from  Lake  Erie  at  Port  Dover.     It  ha^ 
good  hotel,  the  Battersby,  and  the  ride  to  the  lake  may  be  easily  taken  in  i  h.,  along  a  pleasa 
road  which  the  rain  improves.    The  route  to  Aylmer  is  along  the  Talbot  road  w.  to  the  r 
crossing,  a  level  run  of  i  m.  on  hard  gravel;  then  fair  side-paths  to  Atherton,  7  m.,  and  Delt 
4  m.,  except  that  the  last  2  m.,  ending  vrith  a  hill,  is  mostly  unridable.     Beyond  D.  the  road 
>  magnificent :  8  m.  to  Courtland,  then  a  7  m.  level  to  Doyle's  Hotel,  then  3I  m.  clay  to  Staffs 
ville,  3  m.  clay  to  Richmond,  7  m.  good  gravel  to  Aylmer.     The  e.  trip  of  42  m.  from  S.  to  H.v 
ton  is,  on  the  whole,  a  good  one,  passing  through  grand  scenery,  especially  near  H. ;  and  it  n 
be  done  in  s  h.    Take  Talbot  st.  e.  10  m.  to  Murphy's  Corners,  clay  and  sand ;  i  m.  n  to  (l 
hard  clay ;  \  m.  e.  to  Jarvis ;  then  first  class  run  on  old  stage  road  n.  e.  to  Hagersville,  6 
fair  clay  to  Caledonia,  9  m. ;  loam  and  clay,  very  stony,  rolling,  to  Mt.  Hope,  7  m. ;  fair  d  ' 
Ryckman's  Comers,  3  m. ;  then  4  m.  on  gently  rolling  clay  loam  to  Mountain  View  Hotel,  • 
looking  Hamilton, — to  which  descend  through  John  st.    The  road  from  Delhi  through  Ha>A 
to  Norwich,  12  m.,  is  called  hilly,  sandy  and  mostly  unridable.     Good  side-path  riding  m  • 
had  from  Simcoe  to  Vittoria,  8  m.,  a  summer  resort  3  m.  from  Lake  Erie,  and  to  Port  Kv 
The  n.  and  e.  road  of  8  m.  from  S.  to  Wftterford  may  be  done  in  40  min. ;  and  the  Coc\ 
gravel  road  thence  n.  e.  through  Boston  and  Bealton  to  Brantford,  17  m.  (p.  3x4),  is  callei' 
fair.    The  n.  route  of  28  m.  from  S.  to  Paris  (p.  317)  offers  fine  gravel  or  else  ridable  side- 
thus  :  "  Round  Plains,  7  m. ;  Scotland,  7  m. ;    Bishop's  Gate,  7  ra. ;    Pelton's  Comeni. 
By  going  w.  one  concessioo  at  Scotland,  hills  near  Bishop's  Gate  may  be  avoided." 


334 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


having  answered  my  letters,  I  mounted  at  9,  and  rode  in  i^  h.  to  Heuvelton, 
7  m.,  over  a  smooth  and  level  surface,  with  a,  sharp  descent  across  the  r.  r 
track  at  H.  At  the  top  of  a  hill  which  I  walked  up,  2  m.  beyond,  after  rather 
poor  riding,  I  could  see  the  village  of  Rensselaer  Falls  on  my  1.,  and  also 
some  mountain-peaks,  whose  outlines  delighted  me  because  my  Canadian 
horizons  had  offered  my  eyes  very  little  variety  of  that  sort.  Walking  down 
hill  through  the  sand  and  crossing  a  bridge,  I  kept  the  r.  to  a  church  and 
school-house  (4  m.),  where,  of  three  possible  roads,  the  1.  was  said  to  be  the 
best,  though  I  found  that  it  led  over  a  succession  of  short  hills  and  was  largely 
unridable  for  4  m.  to  De  Kalb  (no  hotel),  where  I  took  a  header  by  striking  a 
stone  on  an  up-grade,  after  having  gone  250  m.  without  a  fall.  The  road  im- 
proves and  is  good  through  Richville,  7  m.,  beyond  which  I  wheeled  up  two 
long  hills,  and  then  found  stretches  of  smooth  and  flat  riding  (6  m.  in  i  b.)  to 
Gouverneur,  where  I  spent  the  night  in  comfort  at  the  Van  Buren  House. 
The  next  morning,  between  7  and  9.45,  I  rode  14  m.  to  Antwerp,  and  stopped 
there  i  h.  for  breakfast.  The  first  3  m.  was  done  without  dismount,  and  good 
riding  continued  4  m.  further,  or  until  I  had  passed  Somerville.  Then  2  m. 
of  poor  plodding  brought  me  to  a  point  offering  three  routes  to  A.,  of  which 
I  chose  the  r.  (afterwards  learning  that  the  1.  is  best),  up  a  sand  hill  and  then 
1.  along  a  gravel  road,  somewhat  hilly  but  generally  smooth  and  good  for  4  m^ 
ending  with  a  long  but  ridable  grade  which  winds  around  into  t'he  village  of 
A.  My  first  stop  was  forced  i  m.  beyond  it ;  then  rough  clay  prevailed  to 
the  river  bridge,  which  I  crossed,  only  to  find  the  roughness  increase  to  the 
unridable  point,  as  I  plodded  along  a  plain  to  a  cross-roads  school-house, 
where  I  turned  r.  over  the  stream  again  (I  learned  later  that  I  should  have 
kept  straight  on),  and  after  \  m.  of  difficult  riding  reached  Philadelphia,  6  m. 
from  A.  Sand  prevailed  then  for  i  m.,  or  until  I  turned  r.  on  the  road  which 
I  should  have  followed  from  the  school-house ;  and  after  going  3)  m.  on  this 
road  I  reached  the  stone  "  3  m.  to  Evans  Mills.'*  The  last  2  m.  to  that  place 
was  mostly  ridable,  and  I  reached  the  corners,  5  m.  beyond,  in  a  little  more 
than  I  h.  Thence  to  the  Woodruff  House  in  Watertown,  5 J  m.,  I  went  in 
similar  time,  doing  the  last  2  m.  without  stop,  over  rather  rough  macadam, 
ending  in  mist  and  dusk  at  5.15  p.  m.  On  this  day  and  the  preceding  one  I 
had  nothing  substantial  to  eat  between  breakfast  and  supper. 

Watertown  is  the  home  of  the  rider  who  had  accompanied  me  from 
Utica  to  Trenton  Falls,  the  previous  season  (see  p.  209),  when  rain  at 'that 
point  prevented  his  piloting  me  thence  through  W.  to  Alexandria  Bay ;  and 
as  he  had  also  been  my  companion  between  Boston  and  Portsmouth  in  '81 
(p.  loi ),  he  felt  under  bonds  to  see  me  safely  started  out  of  town.  We  left 
the  hotel  at  7  a.  m.,  and  got  to  the  end  of  the  good  riding,  4  m.,  in  35  min., 
our  route  being  through  Washington  St.,  about  2  m.,  up  a  long  grade  ;  and  we 
took  the  second  1. 1.  about  i^m.  beyond  this.  We  were  2  h.  in  doing  the  next 
6  m.  to  Adams  Center ;  but  \  h.  represented  a  halt  for  bathing  my  foot, 
where  I  ran  a  nail  into  it  by  jumping  down  from  an  apple  tree  upon  a  hoard 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NA  TURAL  BRIDGE, 


335 


which  supported  the  unlucky  nail  in  sticking  stiffly  upward  (p.  306).  We 
gave  only  \  h.  to  the  4  m.  from  Adams  Center  to  Adams,  and  continued  at 
speed  along  a  smooth  stretch  beyond  it.  From  Pierrepont  Manor,  5  m.  from 
A.,  we  went  without  stop  4  m.  in  ^  h.,  through  Mannsvilie,  to  a  water-trough 
at  a  fork,  where  we  turned  r.  (the  1.  route,  through  Laconia,  was  said  to  be 
less  sandy),  and  were  f  h.  in  getting  over  the  2  m.  to  the  Sandy  Creek  Hotel, 
where  we  stopped  i  h.  for  dinner.  Ridable  stretches  of  clay,  broken  by  sand, 
took  us  to  Pulaski,  5}  m.  in  i  h.;  and  at  the  foot  of  a  long  grade,  3  m.  be- 
yond, my  companion  said  good  bye  and  turned  homeward, — the  time  being  4 
o'clock.  Colosse,  of  curious  name,  7  m.,  was  reached  2  h.  later,  after  consid- 
erable walking  in  the  dark,  and  I  perforce  sought  shelter  for  the  night  in  its 
terribly  squalid  little  tavern.  Shouts  and  shrieks  of  mirth  from  its  bar-room, 
soon  after  I  went  up  stairs,  showed  that  (for  the  first  night  of  my  tour)  I  had 
forgotten  to  lock  together  the  wheels  of  the  bicycle ;  and  an  awful  hush  fell 
upon  the  assembly  when  I  returned  for  that  purpose,  and  displaced  a  small 
boy  who  had  kindly  consented  to  entertain  them  by  a  few  experiments  in  the 
saddle.  The  weather  of  the  day  had  been  ideally  pleasant,  with  favorable 
wind,  and  the  42  m.  covered  represented  but  8^  h.  of  actual  motion.  The 
next  day  was  also  mild  and  balmy,  barring  the  first  2  m.  after  daybreak,  when 
a  keen  frost  filled  the  air.  For  3}  m.,  to  Hastings,  the  road  was  difficult,  and 
then  followed  6  m.  of  sandy  stretches,  mostly  unridable,  to  the  hotel  in  Cen- 
tral Square,  where  I  halted  i  h.  for  breakfast,  ending  at  10.40.  It  was  while 
plodding  hungrily  along  one  of  the  most  hopeless,  not  to  say  utterly  irre- 
claimable, of  these  sandy  levels,  that  I  was  confronted  by  a  woman  who 
came  out  from  a  little  farm  house  in  the  woods  to  enquire  of  me  where  she 
could  purchase  a  tricycle  1  I  gave  her  a  manufacturer's  address  from  which 
she  might  procure  a  price  catalogue;  and  I  gave  her  this  answer  when 
questioned  as  to  the  probable  time  required  for  learning  to  drive  a  tricycle, 
with  speed  and  comfort,  over  country  roads  of  that  sort :  "  Not  less  than  100 
years  I "  The  road  grew  better,  however,  from  Central  Square  to  Brewerton, 
perhaps  5  m.,  where  I  crossed  the  Oneida  river,  near  the  lake  (20  m.  long)  of 
same  name  for  which  it  is  the  outlet.  The  board  "12  m.  to  Syracuse**  was 
reached  at  11.45,  ^^^  ^^^  "^^^  ^^^  in  20  min.  Goodish  riding  soon  brought 
me  to  Cicero,  with  its  unclassical  cheese-factory,  and  its  plank  road,  along 
which  I  jogged  without  stop,  through  Ccnterville,  till  I  reached  the  water- 
trough  a  little  beyond  the  board  "  3  m.  to  S.,**  at  1.30.  It  was  \  h.  later  when 
I  stabled  my  steed  in  Olmstead's  harness  store,  3  J  m.  on,  with  a  record  of  27 
m.  for  the  half-day,  and  804  m.  for  19  successive  days. 

Chapter  XXII.  can  be  consulted  (pp.  298-300,  302^303)  for  a  general 
statement  of  the  geographic  and  atmospheric  conditions  which  characterized 
my  19  days'  ride  from  Syracuse  to  Staunton,  618  m.  I  began  it  November 
^at  2  P.  M.  (after  halting  at  the  house  of  a  friend  nine  days,  during  which 
^was  much  bad  weath#»r  AnHSncr  in  a  snow  storm  which  left  the  roads  de- 
muddy),  by  ta*  walk  of  Genesee  st.  at  the  park  and 


336  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

traversing  the  flagstones  for  i  m.  to  the  r.  r.  crossing;  then  the  plank  walk  up 
the  hill  and  beyond  till  it  ended,  ij  m.     It  took  me  almost  i  h.  to  tramp  i) 
m.  of  muddy  hills  to  Orville  tavern,  which  stands  about  midway  between  toll- 
gates  I J  m.  apart,  but  I  covered  the  next  i}  m.  in  25  min.  and  found  a  good 
sidewalk  then  for  |  m.  to  Fayette,  where  I  t.  r.  on  Manlius  st.  and  reached 
M.,  3  m.,  in  i  h.    Here,  at  fork  on  the  hill,  I  again  t.  r.  and  went  to  Buelville, 
3  m.,  in  35  min.    Dusk  had  now  settled  down  (5.20  p.  m.),  and  I  mounted  not 
again,  though  the  macadam  extended  a  little  further,  to  the  hamlet  of  Oran. 
It  was  now  pitch  dark,  and  the  roadway  a  mere  slough  of  mud.    After  about 
I  m.  of  this,  a  wayfarer  told  me  to  "  1. 1.  at  the  next  fork  by  a  brick  house  "  ; 
but  I  failed  to  see  it,  and  so  struggled  on  to  a  cross-roads,  where  a  driver  told 
me  to  1. 1.  up  a  long  and  rough  hill,  to  meet  the  road  which  I  had  missed.     1 
found  this  at  last,  near  a  r.  r.  crossing,  and  tramped  along  a  ridge  where  gooc* 
riding  would  be  possible  in  dry  weather  by  daylight,  with  a  fine  view  across 
the  valley  on  r.    At  last  I  crossed  the  r.  r.  again,  near  a  station,  and  t.  L 
along  the  lake, — floundering  through  a  terribly  muddy  stretch  overhung  witL 
trees,  and  so  reached  the  shelter  of  the  Stanton  House  in  Cazenovia,  at  8.4c 
o'clock,  just  as  the  rain  drops  began  to  patter  down.    The  next  morning  wa.- 
damp  but  not  rainy,  and,  as  the  sun  shone  in  the  afternoon,  I  decided  to  pro 
ceed  as  far  as  the  next  town,  West  Woodstock,  7  J  m.     I  did  so  in  2\  h.,  ent. 
ing  at  6.30  o'clock.     This  was  much  the  shortest  day's  journey  of  my  tou. 
and  I  walked  the  last  4  m.  in  the  dark,  except  that  the  faint  moonlig. 
tempted  me  to  mount. once  or  twice,  towards  the  end.     I  had  spent  the  eai. 
part  of  the  day  in  the  experiment  of  fitting  rawhide  bearings  to  my  fro. 
axle  ;  and  as  these  had  not  been  given  time  to  dry,  the  wheel  turned  har 
The  rawhide  washer  inserted  in  steering  head  quickly  worked  loose ;  and 
threw  it  away,  two  days  later,  as  an  impracticable  device.* 


»  The  President  of  the  Caienovia  B.   C,  S^v^re  Dorion,  a  druggist,  invited  me  to  his  st< 
as  a  proper  place  for  putting  my  bicycle  in  order,  and  assured  me  that,  in  dry  weather,  he  ^ 
taken  the  20  m.  run  to  Syracuse  in  2  J  h.,  and  that  S.  riders  had  ridden  to  C.  as  quickly.     \ 
had  also  made  the  run  from  West  Woodstock  to  C,  with  the  help  of  the  wind,  in  }  h.,  thou 
the  grades  are  easier  in  the  other  direction,  as  I  took  them,— the  "  w.  road  "  being  preferable 
each  case  to  the  route  which  is  a  little  more  direct.     He  gave  me  the  following  outline  of  a  d 
run  of  104  m.,  which  had  been  taken  by  the  Captain  of  his  club,  Charles  P.  Knowlton,  in  O 
ber  :    "  Starting  at  5.30  a.  m.,  he  took  a  6  m.  circuit  in  Cazenovia,  and  then  rode  12  m   ' 
breakfast  at  Chittenango,  a  rise  of  963  ft.    Canistota,  Oneida,  Rome  and  Utica  were  suo 
sively  passed,  and  he  took  dinner  at  a  house  6  m.  beyond  New  York  Mills,  with  a  record  of  61 
Thence  he  retraced  his  course  to  Chittenango,  43  m.,  at  9  p.  m."    This  ride  suggests  a  desir 
variation  in  my  own  route  between  the  Thousand  Islands  and  Cazenovia;  and  I  rccomi> 
any  tourist  between  those  points  to  aim  for  Trenton  Falls  when  he  leaves  Watertown ;  and  f  * 
after  reaching  Rome  by  route  given  on  p.  a  10,  to  follow  this  other  route  to  C.    For  the  sak- 
comparison  with  my  own  ride  given  on  p.  337,  I  may  as  well  add  to  this  note  that  H.  C.  1 
gins,  of  Cindnnatus,  told  me  he  rode  thence,  through  Taylor,  on  the  other  side  of  the  rive 
South  Otselic  and  back,  about  21  m.,  in  2 J  h.,  including  a  stop  of  \  h.     Mr.  Knowlton  a'. 
ports  good  riding  from  Cindnnatus  across  to  Norwich,  and  thence  s.  w.  along  the  line  < 
river  and  canal,  through  Greene,  to  Chenango  Forks. 


>r 
•r 
al 


I 


338  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  first  sand  seen  in  about  100  m. ;   but  the  side-paths  proved  generally 
ridable  to  Port  Dickson,  and  I  rode  continuously  for  3  m.,  from  the  point  where 
its  h.  r.  r.  begins  to  the  post-office  in  Bingh»mton  (11  m.  In  z\  h.  from  Che- 
nango Forks).    What  with  letter-writing,  chatting  with  local  riders,  buying  a 
new  pair  of  shoes  (see  pp.  30S,  21S),  and  getting  dinner,  z\  h.  slipped  away 
before  I  resumed  the  saddle.     I  rode  1  m.  lo  the  bridge  and  i  m.  beyond; 
then  walked  nearly  1  m.,  including  a  long  hill  (for  the  road  was  nearly  as 
rutty  as  1  had  found  it  in  the  dry  season  of  "So ;  see  p.  206) ;  t.  r.  with  the 
river  in  1  m.  at  the  fork  where  stands  the  4  m.  plank;  and,  finally,  al  the 
bridge  where  stands  the  5  m.  plank  and  where  darkness  overtook  me  in  "So, 
ray  real  riding  of  the  day   began.     An  cKcellenl  gravel    surface  stretches 
thence  for  9J  m.  to  the  post-ofBce  in  Great  Bend,  the  first  town  across  the 
Pennsylvania  line;  and  I  secracd  to  myself  to  be  going  very  fast  when  1  got 
over  it  in  \\  h.     My  only  stop  was  made  (or  a  horse,  which  I  met  under  the 
r.  r.  about  3^  m.  after  mounting, — though  the  hill  which  I  soon  afterwards 
climbed,  beyond  the  r.  r.  tracks,  and  the  hill  which  confronted  me  previously 
were  both  quite  difficult.     Beyond  the  post-office  in  G.  B.,  I  mistakenly  kept 
to  the  1.  (whereas  the  r.  was  recommended  by  riders  of  both  Binghamton 
and  Susquehanna),  and  soon  found  stones  sprinkled  on  a  soft  surface.     Al 
the  fork,  \\  m.  on,  I  vralked  up-hill  to  r.  and  had  a  fine  view  backward  of 
G.  B.    The  descent  on  wheel  was  rather  ticklish  in  (he  gathering  dusk  ;  and 
though  the  next  7  m.  would  have  oSered  fair  wheeling  in  the  day  time,  and 
though  I  was  tempted  occasionally   to  mount  in  the  frosty  moonlight,  1 
tramped  most  of  the  distance  (2  h.)  and,  at  7  o'clock  crossed   the  bridge  over 
the  Susquehanna  into  the  town  of  that  name,  and  sought  its  chief  hotel,  the 
Starucca,  which  is  connected  with  the  r.  t.  station.    I  recommend  it  as  a 
place  where  wheelmen  will  probably  get  good  treatment  hereafter,  because 
of  the  emphasis  with  which  I  resented  the  incivility  there  offered  to  myself. 
The  hotel  clerk  having  shown  me  to  a  room,  I  made  my  usual  remark  that 
I  would  "be  ready  for  supper  in  about  half  an  hour  ";  but,  instead  of  giving 
the  usual  assurance  that  a  good  supper  should  then  be  ready  for  me,  be  pulled 
out  his  watch  and  said  with  an  insolent  swagger;  "  Tables  are  cleared  at  7.30- 
If  you  want  any  supper,  you  must  come  down  now."         " 
alluring  sort  of  "  hospitality  "  for  a  traveler  to  h^ 
sequel  to  a  tiresome  day's  journey  of  3;  m., — wh 
pef«[)iration,  in  spite  of  the  fnjsty  night  air, — and 
luggage  and  said  I  would  take  my  chance  of  sh 
Mbere  it  might  be  allowable  to  properly  wash  and 
iiMiT  lo  eating.     As  I  re-entered  the  hotel  office,  ani 
I  bad  thrown  upon  the  heater  to  dry,  and  ordered 
out  of  the  cloak-room,  the  loungers  about  the  placi 
know  what  the  trouble  might  be  ;  and  one  of  the  pr 
icene,  ttllh  apologies  for  the  rudeness  which  ha< 
wheelman  lilmtelf,  he  wished  to  smooth  Che  matter 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE, 


339 


good  supper ;  but,  as  I  quietly  insisted  that  I'd  had  enough  of  the  Starucca,  he 
kindly  piloted  me  to  the  "  second  best  "  hotel,  where  I  was  allowed  to  take  my 
time  in  putting  on  dry  clothes,  and  afterwards  to  eat  in  peace,  withotil  refer- 
ence to  any  kitchen  girl's  rule  as  to  "  clearing  the  tables  *i  y.30."  The  lect- 
ure on  the  value  of  civility  which  that  hotel  clerk  received  from  his  employer, 
after  my  wilhdcawal,  was,  I  trust,  sanctified  10  him  for  his  everlasting  good  ; 
and  the  hotel  itself,  I  am  sure,  can  hereafter  be  all  the  better  depended  upon 
to  make  wheelmen  comfortable  because  of  the  fact  that,  when  once  it  en- 
deavored 10  rob  me  of  comfort,  I  flatly  turned  my  back  upon  it. 

I  felt  quite  elated,  next  morning,  at  my  ability  to  wheel  to  the  top  of  the 
hiti  (nearly  1  m.)  which  offers  a  fine  view  of  the  town.  This  start  was  at  8^ 
o'clock,  and  I  was  14  h.  in  covering  the  39  m.  stretching  thence  over  the 
mountains  to  the  Allen  House  in  Honcsdale.  It  was  just  noon  when  I 
crossed  the  r.  r.  track  at  Thompson  station,  g  m.  from  S.,  riding  down  a  steep 
hill  whose  water-courses  made  it  dangerous;  but,  aa  dinner  was  not  quite 
teady  at  the  Jefferson  House,  a  neat-looking  little  hostelry,  I  jogged  along  to 
Hinds  Comers  p.  o.  (5  m.  in  l{  h.),  where  I  found  no  other  provender  than 
apples.  The  surface  to  this  point  was  composed  of  light  yellow  soil,  and  was 
ridable  except  on  the  upgrades,  which  were  pretty  continuous.  At  Belmont 
(6  m.  in  3  h.),  which  consists  of  two  private  houses  at  a  cross-road^,  I  turned 
1.  and  rode  down  hill  \  m.  to  the  tanneries.  Before  beginning  the  descent 
towards  B.,  a  fine  view  was  had  of  the  c<yintry  for  many  m.  on  every  side; 
and  there  were  numerous  ridable  stretches  of  red  clay  and  black  loam,  though 
1  had  to  toil  through  one  mud-slough  for  \  m.  in  the  woods.  Had  the 
weather  been  dry,  I  should  have  turned  r.  at  the  tanneries  and  followed  the 
creek  down  to  Prompton ;  but,  to  avoid  the  probable  mud  of  that  route,  I 
kept  straight  on  and  walked  up  a  smooth  ]  m.  hill  of  red  clay  to  Mt.  Pleas- 
ant, where  the  sign  "  oysters  1 5  c.  a  plate,"  in  front  of  the  local  book-store, 
tempted  me  to  stop  \'a.  A  Hock  of  admiring  school-children  collected  around 
that  literary  emporium,  to  sec  me  eat  and  then  resume  the  saddle.  I  soon  t. 
r.  down  hill ;  also  took  r.  at  the  first  fork,  and  again  r.  where  the  stone  reser- 
voir stands,  opposite  a  brick  house,  3  m.  This  was  fair  wheeling;  but  the 
next  \\  m.,  which  brought  me  to  the  creek  road  leading  from  the  tanneries, 
would  hardly  be  ridable  even  by  daylight.  The  creek  road  proved  level  and 
firm,  leading  through  a  narrow  valley ;  and  after  walking  along  it  I  h.  (3)  m.) 
I  ventured  to  ride  ij  m.  to  Aldenville.  Several  short  stretches  of  deep  sand 
were  met  with  between  there  and  Prompton,  4im.j  then,  after  one  rather 
sandy  hill,  1  found  good  going  for  nearly  z  m.  to  the  wretched  little  road- 
houK  where,  after  much  urging,  I  secured  some  chocolate  and  eggs  for  sup- 
per. I  was  nearl;  :nce  toihe  hotel  in  Honesdale, 
— and,  as  the  misi  in,  I  assumed  my  jacket,  for 
the  first  time  sine  -eit  morning,  however,  for 
when  I  mounted  :  -ibout  roads  from  a  Ipcal 
wheelman  empio]  nw-path,  the  r  ' 


340 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


thickened  to  a  drizzle.  Twenty  minutes  later,  when  I  had  gone  about  2  m., 
and  was  almost  at  the  end  of  the  "  mile  level,"  a  pair  of  mules  ran  away  with 
my  bicycle,  as  detailed  on  pp.  44-45 »  ^^^  ^  worked  in  the  lock-house  till 
noon,  getting  it  into  ridable  shape  again.  After  \  m.  of  service,  the  cracked 
handle-bar  broke  off,  forcing  me  to  walk  to  the  next  lock,  and  delay  there  i  h. 
in  fitting  a  wagon-spoke  to  the  head.  In  the  next  z  h.,  ending  at  4  o'clock,  I 
rode  5^  m.  to  Hawley,  where  I  got  my  bar  welded  and  stopped  for  the  night 
at  the  Keystone  House.  Sunshine  cheered  me  during  this  final  stretch, 
though  the  rain  fell  heavily  for  the  3  h.  preceding.  The  canal-locks  were 
quite  near  together  and  the  approaches  to  them  were  quite  steep,  though  all 
oh  a  down-grade.  I  found  longer  levels  the  next  day,  whose  forenoon  was 
damp  and  warm  and  whose  afternoon  was  damp  and  rainy.  The  canal 
crosses  the  Delaware  twice  at  Lackawaxen ;  and  the  rain  began  falling  just 
at  noon,  soon  after  I  had  crossed  the  lower  bridge,  17  m.  and  4  h.  from  H. 
Before  crossing  the  first  one,  I  might  have  1. 1.,  to  reach  a  big  hotel,  called  the 
Williamson,  which  is  a  sort  of  summer  resort ;  but  I  in  fact  got  a  lunch  of 
crackers  and  beer  about  i  o'clock  at  a  bar-room  in  Barryville,  4  m.  on,  where  I 
also  bought  a  strip  of  oil-doth  to  protect  my  jacket,  which  I  had  strapped  on 
the  outside  of  my  rubber-covered  luggage-roll.  Pond  Eddy,  7  m.,  was  reached 
after  2  h.  of  rainy  wheeling,  and  darkness  came  upon  me  5  m.  beyond,  so  that 
I  tramped  the  last  7  m.,  which  brought  me  to  the  Delaware  House,  in  Port 
Jervis,  at  7.15  p.  m.^  ^ 

^  Pages  304,  305  may  be  consulted  for  scenic  details  of  this  rainy  afternoon's  ride,  during 
which  I  completed  "  the  first  American  bicycle  trail  of  1,000  m.  straightaway."  Nearly  all 
the  40  m.  traversed  that  day,  through  mist  and  rain  and  mud,  would  offer  pleasant  wheeling 
in  pleasant  weather ;  and  I  believe  the  tow>path  would  be  practicable  to  its  terminus  on  the 
Hudson  river  at  Rondout  (see  p.  188).  Another  good  route  to  the  Hudson  was  thus  given  me 
by  a  local  rider  who  had  wheeled  from  Port  Jervis  to  Newburg  :  "  Cuddebackville,  9  m.  n.  e., 
is  reached  by  the  excellent  Huguenot  road,  and  Otisvtile  is  from  4  to  6  m.  beyond, — half  the 
distance  requiring  to  be  walked,  on  account  of  a  steep  hill.  Other  such  hills  g^ve  trouble  be- 
fore readiing  the  Hudson,  but  there  is  no  sand  to  render  the  levels  unridable.  The  towns  passed 
through  are  Middletown  (see  p.  198),  Goshen  and  Chester,  whence  the  route  leads  along  the 
r.  r.  12  m.  to  Newburg."  A  ride  from  Scranton  to  Honesdale,  30  ra.,  was  taken  Sept.  17, 
*8i,  2  to  5  p.  M.,  by  F.  C.  Hand  (who  reported  it  in  BL  World,  Oct.  21,  p.  289)  and  three 
Wilkesbarre  riders ;  and  the  party  next  day  proceeded  to  Port  Jervis,  50  m.,  7.  a.  m.  to  6  p.  m., 
"  finding  the  usually  easy  tow-path  rather  heavy  and  dusty  from  recent  repairs  and  want  of  run. 
The  best  riding  was  within  a  few  inches  of  the  edge,  where  the  tug-ropes  had  made  the  sur- 
face smooth ;  and,  in  spite  of  close  watching  of  our  wheels,  three  of  us,  at  one  time  or  an- 
other, took  '  coolers '  in  the  canal.  These  interesting  incidents  happened  between  Hawley, 
which  we  reached  i}  h.  from  the  start,  and  Lackawaxen,.  which  we  reached  at  noon."  llie 
monotony  of  life  in  that  wild  region  has  so  few  interruptions  that  the  memory  of  "  the  bicyde 
man  who  tumbled  into  the  canal,  two  years  ago,"  was  still  fresh  among  the  people  whom  I  met 
along  the  route.  They  told  me  also  of  a  later  tourist  who  had  been  snapped  into  the  water  by 
the  sudden  tightening  up  of  a  tug-rope,  which  he  had  ridden  across  as  incautiously  as  I  myself. 
Details  have  been  sent  to  me  as  follows,  by  A.  J.  Kolp  (b.  1849),  ex-captain  of  Scranton  B.  C, 
about  the  routes  leading  from  that  city :  "  N.  e.  road  good  to  Carbondale,  16  m.;  then  6  m.  over 
mountain  to  Waymart,  half  unridable  and  the  rest  rough  and  dangerous  (better  take  car  of 
gravity  r.  c,  C.  to  W.);  next  10  m.  fair  to  bad,  to  Honesdale.    The  n.-route,  from  S.  to  Bing- 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NA  TURAL  BRIDGE. 


341 


My  ride  through  the  snow  squalls  of  November  I2,  down  the  Dela- 
ware to  Bushkill,  28  m.,  has  been  described  on  p.  299.  I  spent  i  h.,  next 
morning,  upon  the  first  4^  m.,  which  brought  me  to  Jim  Price's  house,  where 
I  had  t.  1.  in  1S80,  at  the  sign  "8  m.  to  Del.  Water  Gap"  (p.  207);  and 
I  h.  upon  the  next  3I  m.  to  the  cross-roads  tavern  at  Craig's  Meadows.  Roughly 
frozen  mud  formed  the  roadway  for  all  this  distance ;  and  my  best  ride  of 
the  forenoon  was  i^  m.  on  the  sidewalk  from  the  r.  r.  crossing  above  East 
Stroudsburg  to  the  Burnett  House  in  S.  (13  m.  from  the  start),  where  I  se- 
cured a  notably  good  dinner.  1 1.  r.  at  fork  i  m.  from  hotel,  and  used  side- 
paths  for  I  m.  to  the  sign  "  5  m.  to  Snydersville,"  though  I  found  it  in  4  m., 
on  a  stretch  of  black  gravel,  after  considerable  experience  with  sandy,  stony 
and  hilly  roads.  I  ought  to  have  t.  1.  at  S.,  and  avoided  hills ;  but  I  kept 
along  the  direct  road  2  m.  and  1. 1.  at  the  falls  of  Sciota  (where  also  I  might 
have  taken  r.),  and  then  1 1..  r.  at  the  hotel  and  tannery,  \  m.  on,  and  walked 
up  long  hills  to  the  tavern  at  Mechanicsville,  z\  m.  By  this  time,  it  was  dark, 
and  I  tramped  2  m.  further  to  the  tavern  in  Brodheadsville  (venturing  into 
the  saddle  for  short  spells  when  the  moon  shone),  at  6  o'clock,  and  halted  i  h. 
for  supper.  The  badness  of  this  showed  the  impossibility  of  my  faring  worse 
by  going  further,  and  so  I  tramped  2\  m.  beyond,  along  a  level  which  would 
have  been  ridable  by  daylight,  to  another  little  cross*roads  inn  at  Pleasant 
Valley,  where  my  bed  had  only  one  sheet  and  my  door  had  no  lock  at  all, 
but  where  my  pocket-book  suffered  a  lightening  of  only  40  c.  for  lodging  and 
■breakfast.  (A  ride  from  Stroudsburg  to  Phillipsburg,  9  m.,  and  Brodheads- 
ville, 3I  m.,  was  reported  in  the  Wheels  Aug.  3,  '83;  and  it  probably  led 
along  the  other  side  of  the  broad  valley  which  I  traversed ;  but  I  was  told 
that  my  own  route  was  shorter  and  better.)  Next  morning,  I  rode  from 
Pleasant  Valley  to  Kresgeville,  3f  m.  in  \  h.,  against  a  bitter  gale  of  wind, 
dlong  a  gravel  track  with  many  turnings,  but  all  ridable  and  some  stretches 
Excellent.  Trochsville,  a  brick  tavern  where  five  rogds  meet,  is  2}m.  on,  and, 
'of  two  possible  routes  from  K.,  I  chose  the  r.,  turning  round  the  corner  and 
finally  up  a  ^  m.  hill,  which  would  be  ridable  with  the  wind.  Stemlersville, 
another  brick  tavern  at  a  turn  in  the  road,  was  5  m.  from  T.,  and  I  rode  the 
iirst  I  m.  pretty  continuously  up-grade.  Five  m.  beyond  S.,  I  crossed  the 
r,  r.  tracks  at  Weissport,  after  i  m.  or  so  of  continuous  houses,  before  reach- 
ing which  I  descended  1  defile  overhung  with  evergreens ;  and  at  the  Exchange 
Hotel  in  Lehighton,  i  m.  beyond  the  W.  r.  r.  crossing,  I  got  a  comfortable 
50  c.  dinner,  though  it  was  by  no  means  as  well  served  as  the  one  at  Strouds- 

hamtoo,  571x1.  (pp.  219,  310),  is  a  good  day's  work  for  a  determined  rider,  being  rather  hilly, 
though  of  fair  surface.  It  leads  through  Clarke's  Summit,  Waverly,  Blakeley,  Glen  wood, 
New  Milford  and  Great  Bend.  The  e.  road  from  S.  ia  good  but  up-hill  for  6  m.  to  Green- 
ville ;  and  thence  unridable  to  the  Water  Gap,  57  m.  The  s.  road  from  S.  is  fair,  through  Tay- 
lonrille  to  Pittston  Junction,  9  m.,  thence  very  good  to  Wilkesbarre  (p.  aao),  on  either  side 
the  riveri  the  e.  route  being  7  m.,  and  the  w.  route,  9  m.  As  for  personal  statistics,  I  rode 
about  1,000  m.  each  in  '80,  '81  and  '82,  and  1,358  m.  in  'S3.  My  wheel  is  a  52  in.,  and  I  do  not 
use  it  in  going  to  business." 


340  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON 

thickened  to  a  drizzle.    Twenty  minutes  later,  wh 

and  was  almost  at  the  end  of  the  "  mile  level,"  a  p.  ^-  J 

my  bicycle,  as  detailed  on  pp.  44-45;  and  I  wo.  ^.nd 

noon,  getting  it  into  ridable  shape  again.    After  \  to 

handle-bar  broke  off,  forcing  me  to  walk  to  the  ne\  ^'^J 

in  fitting  a  wagon-spoke  to  the  head.    In  the  next  .  -). 

rode  si  m.  to  Hawley,  where  I  got  my  bar  welded  '  ■^. 

at  the  Keystone  House.     Sunshine  cheered  me 

though  the  rain  fell  heavily  for  the  3  h.  precedi  ' 

quite  near  together  and  the  approaches  to  them  >^ 

oh  a  down-grade.     I  found  longer  levels  the  next 

damp  and  warm  and  whose  afternoon  was  danr 

crosses  the  Delaware  twice  at  Lackawaxen ;  and  tl 

at  noon,  soon  after  I  had  crossed  the  lower  brid 

Before  crossing  the  first  one,  I  might  have  1. 1.,  to  r- 

Williamson,  which  is  a  sort  of  summer  resort ;  b- 

crackers  and  beer  about  \  o'clock  at  a  bar-room  in  }' 

also  bought  a  strip  of  oil-cloth  to  protect  my  jacket. 

the  outside  of  my  rubber-covered  luggage-roll.   Pen' 

after  2  h.  of  rainy  wheeling,  and  darkness  came  upo' 

I  tramped  the  last  7  m.,  which  brought  me  to  the  • 

Jervis,  at  7.15  P.  M.* 

'  Pages  304,  305  may  be  consulted  for  scenic  details  of  tlii>^ 
which  I    completed  "  the  first  American  bicycle  trail  of  1,000 
the  40  m.  traversed  that  day,  through  mist  and  rain  and  mud,  ^ 
in  pleasant  weather ;  and  I  believe  the  tow-path  would  be  pra> 
Hudson  river  at  Rondout  (see  p.  188).    Another  good  route  to  ti 
by  a  local  rider  who  had  wheeled  from  Port  Jervis  to  Newbm^g 
is  reached  by  the  excellent  Huguenot  road,  and  Otisville  is  fri 
distance  requiring  to  be  walked,  on  account  of  a  steep  hill.    O*^ 
fore  reaching  the  Hudson,  but  there  is  no  sand  to  render  the  level 
through  are  Middletown  (see  p.  198),  Goshen  and  Chester,  wh< 
r.  r.  13  m.  to  Newburg.'*    A  ride  from  Scranton  to  Honesdalc 
'fii,  J  to  5  p.  M.,  by  F.  C.  Hand  (who  reported  it  in  Bi.   JVor. 
Wllkcubarre  riders;  and  the  party  next  day  proceeded  to  Port  Ji 
*'  fliultng  the  usually  easy  tow-path  rather  heavy  and  dusty  from  : 
The  best  riding  was  within  a  few  inches  of  the  edge,  where  the 
fdce  smrxith ;  and,  in  spite  of  close  watching  of  our  wheels,  ti 
itther,  took  '  coolers '  in  the  canal.    These  interesting  inddenu 
which  we  reached  \\  h.  from  the  start,  and  Lackawaxen,.  which 
liKtnotony  of  life  in  that  wild  region  has  so  few  interruptions  t: 
niMii  who  tumbled  into  the  canal,  two  years  ago,"  was  still  fresh 
•long  the  route.    They  told  me  also  of  a  later  tourist  who  had  be 
Ihn  MucUUn  tightening  up  of  a  tug-rope,  which  he  had  ridden  acrow 
1)ii(iiI1m  have  lieen  sent  to  me  as  follows,  by  A.  J.  Kolp  (b.  1849), 
nIniiiI  lite  mules  leading  from  that  dty  :  "  N.  e.  road  good  to  Can 
mitiiiiliilii  to  Waymart,  half  unridable  and  the  rest  rough  and 
MMVlly  r.  r ,  ('.  tu  W.)i  next  10  m.  fair  to  bad,  to  Honesdale.    '\ . 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE. 


343 


in  summer.  1  met  few  boats,  and  I  walked  I  m.  where  the  wind  was  at  my 
■ide.  Had  1  been  facing  it,  I  could  not  have  ridden  at  all  on  such  a  surface. 
At  Mooresville,  zj  m.,  I  took  the  low-path  again  for  2^  m.  to  the  first  bridge  at 
Leestown  (lying  off  to  (he  r.),  where  I  whizzed  down  asmooth  slope  for  I  m, 
A  well-known  tavern  called  Solomon's  Temple  stands  z  m.  from  this  point, 
led  it  at  noon,  by  leaving  the  turnpike  at  the  covered  bridge  and 
the  telegraph  poles  along  the  Temple  road,  whose  hilly  and 
izen  surface  nf  yellow  clay  was  made  ridable  by  the  Iremendous 
:nce  I  went  without  atop  down  a  dangerous  clay  hiti  and  through 
ery  rough  macadam  to  a  point  in  Reading  within  \  m.  of  the  Key- 
1,  where  I  rested  I  h.  for  dinner;  and  this  4}  m.  in  i,a  min.  was 
:  longest  stay  I  had  made  in  the  saddle  since  leaving  Syracuse, 
lind.  The  fortnight  thus  terminating  included  the  slowest  and 
lit  riding  of  my  entire  tour;  and  I  remember  Reading  pleasantly 
c  where  I  got  fairly  "  out  of  the  woods  "  and  struck  the  turnpike 
ved  swift  progress  neatly  all  the  way  to  the  finish,  six  days  later, 
'.  From  the  hotel,  I  followed  Penn  St.,  the  chief  business  avenue 
to  the  bridge,  beyond  which  I  t.  r.  and  rode  to  the  top  of  the 
I  halted  for  the  sake  of  the  backward  view.  Then  1  went  with- 
nt  12  m.  in  z  h.,  climbing  one  quite  difficult  hill,  and  several  lesser 
lassing  a  number  of  villages,  of  which  Kobesonia  was  the  one 
;re  I  halted.  My  course  being  w.  or  n,  w.,  the  n.  wind  which  had 
In  the  forenoon  now  hindered  me  somewhat,  until  it  went  down 
in-  I  was  1}  h.  in  doing  the  next  6  m.,  ending  at  the  Baney 
lyersCown  al  5.J0, — the  last  5  m,  having  been  done  without  stop, 
several  hills,  the  most  difHcull  of  which  was  the  one  beyond 
[(,  having  a  church  and  grave-yard  on  its  summit. 
:  for  a  slightly  adverse  wind,  the  next  day  supplied  Ideal  weather 
bright  sunshine  and  bitter-told  air),  and  I  improved  it  by  covering 
A.  M.  to  7.45  P.  M,),  or  a  greater  distance  than  was  accredited  to 
forty  days,  except  three  of  those  in  Canada.  My  first  mount  was 
inexactly  3h.  (I9}m.|by  a  stony  hill  beyond  the  village  of  Palmy- 
iks  next  in  length  trf  my  straightaway  stay  from  Tarrylown  to  Fifty- 
'  1p-  53)-  The  grade  oA  the  hill  would  not  have  prohibited  riding, 
(ce  hid  been  smooth;  and  my  second  stop  was  at  Hummelstown 
I.  Poorish  sections  of  road  were  encountered  along  here  ;  but  from 
iween  the  7th  and  the  6th  m.  stones,  I  went  without  stop  to  the  r.  r. 
Harrisburg,  at  z  o'clock  (32^  m.  from  the  start),  barely  escaping  a 
the  dangerous  hili  that  leads  down  to  the  r,  r,  crossing.  I  passed 
tbanon,  the  county  seat,  in  l^  h.  after  leaving  Myerstown;  and  I 
a  series  of  three  hills  beyond  Annville,  which  might  be  called  difii- 
'•ult,  and  most  difiic-'*  '*■  " '  -talked  the  long  bridge  over 
liter  J  h.  test  fc  id  then  curved  to  1.,  under 

-ached  HogD  h.     I  rode  2  m.  more  in 


344  ^^^'  THOUSAND  M/LiiS  O.V  A  BICYCLE. 

the  gathering  dusk,  and  then  walked  7  m.,  along  a  ridable  surface  to  the 
Florence  House  in  Carlisle,  except  a  short  spin  in  the  gas-lighted  streets. 
Near  the  finish,  I  let  my  wheel  tumble  in  a  rut,  and  thereby  snapped  one  of 
the  spokes  which  the  mules  had  injured,  a  week  before.  This  spoke  I  gave 
to  a  local  cycler  as  a  keepsake,  by  virtue  of  its  being  the  first  broken  one  in  a 
wheel  whose  record  was  9,280  m.  Starting  at  9,  the  next  morning,  I  stopped 
for  dinner  4  h.  later  at  the  Sherman  House  in  Shippensburg,  19  m., — the  last 
3  or  4  m.  being  done  without  stop  and  forming  my  best  mount  of  the  day,  in 
spite  of  the  hills.  At  the  start,  I  followed  the  telegraph  poles,  past  Dick> 
inson  College  and  the  r.  r.  freight-house,  for  i  m.  to  the  fork  where  It.].; 
and  I  covered  the  next  6  m.  in  i  h.  Resuming  the  saddle  at  2, 1  reached  the 
National  Hotel  in  Chambersburg,  10  m.,  at  4, — ^the  last  3  m.  being  much  bet- 
ter than  the  6  m.  preceding.  Sunset,  at  5  o'clock,  found  me  4  m,  beyond,  and 
I  stopped  riding  at  5.35,  2  m.  on,  and  tramped  in  i  h.  to  the  National  Hotel  in 
Greencastle,  which  my  cyclometer  called  10  m.  from  C,  though  local  author- 
ity said  "II  m."  This  stretch  was  a  badly-kept  pike,  much  poorer  than  what 
I  had  previously  traversed, — especially  the  first  5  m.  out  from  C, — and  it 
would  be  unridable  when  wet.  Good  weather  and  good  scenery  accompanied 
me  this  day,  and  the  mountains  on  my  r.  often  had  the  appearance  of  clouds 
on  a  lake,  floating  in  the  hazy  air. 

The  thicker  haze  of  the  following  morning,  and  the  increased  warmth 
of  the  sunshine,  betokened  the  advent  of  Indian  summer.  There  was  not  a 
breath  of  wind  when  we  started  forth  at  8.15  and  wheeled  in  i^  h.  to  the 
blacksmith  shop,  where  our  road  crossed  the  National  Pike,  which  was  said 
to  be  excellent  for  4  m.  e.  to  Hagerstown,  and  \  m.  w.  to  Clear  Spring  (see  pp. 
243-245).  We  were  now  in  Maryland,  and  the  distance  back  to  G.,  the  bor- 
der town  of  Pennsylvania,  was  called  10  m.  The  fact  that  I  recorded  it  as 
11}  m.  shows  that  I  probably  took  a  wrong  reading  of  the  cyclometer,  the 
night  before,  when  it  fell  i  m.  short  of  the  record.  An  hour  later  {i\  m. 
of  good  road),  we  were  poled  across  the  Potomac  at  Williamsport  (see  p.. 
239)  in  a  flat  boat,  and  celebrated  our  entrance  into  West  Virginia  by  getting 
a  drink  of  milk  at  the  farm-house  adjoining  the  ferry.  I  say  "  we,"  because  a 
resident  of  Martinsburg  in  that  State,  who  had^wheeled  up  to  G.,  the  day  be- 
fore, while  I  was  wheeling  down  there  from  Carlisle,  accompanied  me  back 
to  his  home  this  forenoon.  "  Southern  hospitality "  was  further  shown  by 
his  proffer  of  a  whisky  flask, — the  only  one  I  ever  saw  in  the  equipment  of  a 
touring  cycler.  We  reached  Falling  Waters,  4^  m.  in  i  h.,  and  rested  on 
a  hill  beyond  ;  took  another  rest  for  water  after  4  m.  more ;  and  the  third  run  of 
4^  m.  brought  us  to  the  Continental  Hotel  in  Martinsburg  at  1.25  p.  m.  Except 
for  spots  of  fresh  macadam,  the  whole  distance  might  have  been  done  with- 
out dismount ;  and  also  the  next  7  m.  to  the  ford  at  Bunker  Hill,  which  I 
reached  in  i  h.  the  following  afternoon;  proceeding  thence  15  m.  further,  in 
the  next  if  h.,  to  Taylor's  Hotel  in  Winchester,  where  I  spent  the  night  The 
35  m.  from  the  Potomac  to  W.  could  be  covered  without  leaving  the  saddle, 


THOfSA.VD  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE. 


345 


if  a  rider  had  nerve  enough  to  wheel  thtongh  tbc  ford,  inslead  of  crawling 
across  on  the  side-friank  as  I  did;  and  1  do  not  recollect  any  grade  or  other 
obstacle  which  would  force  a  dismount  before  reaching  Staunton,  90  m. 
further,  if  the  surface  were  in  normal  caadition  and  the  wind  favorable.  It 
is  probable,  however,  thai  fresh  metal  will  always  be  found  atone  point  or 
another  of  this  125  m.  macadamized  roadway,  for  the  tolU;onipany  owning 
it  consult  economy  by  repairing  different  sections  al  difiereni  seasons,  and 
by  avoidii^  any  expense  for  a  road-Tollcr,  which  would  immediately  poond 
the  bits  of  lintestone  into  ridable  shape.  Ordinary  traffic,  rather,  is  depended 
upon  to  do  this  duty,  and  I  beheve  about  three  months  of  it  are  usually  re- 
quired to  grind  the  new  surface  into  smootbness.  Under  this  system,  the 
oater  edges  become  earliest  ridable,  and  «  bicycler  may  often  pick  hii 
way  comfonably  along  them,  while  yet  the  center  of  the  roadway  is  a  ridge 
lA  loose  metal,  and  tricycling  would  be  quite  impracticable-  In  spile  of 
these  probable  obstacles  resulting  from  its  primitive  management,  this  long- 
est and  best  macadamised  road  in  the  Union  is,  in  my  belief,  the  most  prom- 
ising course  in  the  Union  for  a  bicj'cler  who  is  ambitious  to  make  a  longer 
straightaway  St^  in  the  saddle  than  any  yet  recorded  here.  Wooden  mile- 
posts,  originally  painted  white  and  marked  in  black,  are  set  diagonally  to 
the  roadway,  so  as  readily  to  show  the  mileage  numerals  to  **  W."  and  "  S." 
upon  their  opposite  sides;  but  some  of  the  markings  have  been  obliterated 
hr  the  weather,  and  some  by  delibeiaie  malice  or  idiocy. 

After   vainly  waiting  14  h.  in   Marlinsbuig,  for  a  money-Order,  which 
airired  next  day,  I  telegraphed  that  money  be  sent  to  me  at  Staunton,  and  I 
wheeled  np  to  the  telegraphoffice  at  Winchester,  22  m-  below,  just  as  the 
r^ly  came  in  that  it  had  been  so  sent.     Oddly  enough,  my  cumrade  of  the  pre. 
vioos  ffM'eaooa  had  taken  the  same  journey,  only  I  b.  in  advance  of  me ;  and 
I  therefore  explored  the  environs  of  W.  in  his  company,  and  aflcrwatdi  rode 
a  little  with  a  New  Yorker  who  was  a  student  there  in  (he  .Shcnandnah  Acad- 
emy.    He  said  that  the  pike  w.  to  Romney,  40  m.,  was  reported  bard  and 
smooth,  though  it  leads  through  a  thinly  setiied  country,  and  he  ! '         ">---■ 
not  been  indinMl  to  eiploie  it  beyond  the  point    whete  he  onu: 
asaault  from  highwaymen,  while  reluming  toward  W.  after  darl 
left  the  hotel,  next  morning  at  7,30, 1  failed  to  t.  r.  at  Ihc  firM  for 
little  later,  I  L  r.  at  a  dirt-road,  which  brought  me  acrifM  10  the  fi 
A  ride  of  3  h^  through  the  link  villages  of  Kernstgwn,  Newtijwn 
town,  brought  me  to  Strasburg.  iS  m,  at  wh'j^e  Chalybeate  .Spring! 
alnnch  and  a  letter,  as  well  as  much  interesting  information  aUi 
and  battle-fields  adjacent.    I  had  planned  to  spend  the  previifut 
for  the  house  liad  been  recotnmended  to  me  as  both  new  and  ri*^ 
the  best  friend  of  the  best  hotel   in   Winchester  cann-rt  deny  ths 
oldand  musty-      Resuming  the  saddlt  ai  12.1^  I  whcel-^  z}  m.  t 
the  long  incline  of  Fisher's  Hilt,  and  then  pulled  out  my  map*  u 
fought  there  (Sept.  21  and  Oct.  19,  1S64)  and  studied   it^  deta 


346  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Woodstock,  9  m.  on,  is  a  coanty  town,  whose  chief  hotel  is  the  Strickler,  and 
I  passed  it  at  2  o'clock.    There  was  a  long  incline  beyond  here,  and  also  at 
Edinburg,  6 J  m^  which  I  reached  in  i^  h.    The  next  h.  took  me  to  Mt.  Jack- 
son, 5  m.,  and  the  next  to  Newmarket,  7  m.,  where  I  stopped  at  the  Central 
Hotel  at  540.    This  last  section  seemed  almost  continuously  up-grade   and 
the  twilight  deepened  rapidly  to  dusk  and  darkness  as  I  went  over  it  •  but  it 
offered  smoother  stretches  than  I  had  previously  met,  and  my  speed  was  there- 
fore good.    Six  months  later,  when  I  tried  it  by  daylight,  s.  to  n.  (without 
stop,  6.25  to  7.10  p.  M.),  I  thought  it  a  wonderfully  fine  course ;  and  there  is 
no  other  section  in  the  whole  famous  Valley  of  Virginia  whose  scenery  can 
be  called  more  beautiful.    A  damp  breeze  from  the  s.  blew  gently  in  my  face 
during  the  final  day  (November  22)  as  well  as  the  one  preceding ;  and  at 
1 145  o'clock,   just  3  h,  (14  m.)  after  leaving  Newmarket,  a  rut  somehow 
caught  hold  of  my  front  wheel  and  pulled  it  out  from  under  me,  as  if  it  were 
slipping  on  ice.    Thus,  590  m.  from  Syracuse,  after  much  rough  and  danger- 
ous riding,  carelessness  on  a  smooth  roadway  caused  my  first  fall.     Near  a 
bridge,  2  m.  beyond  here,  where  I  rode  up  a  steep  hill,  I  remember  a  specially 
fine  view.    Then  came  Harrisonburg  (li  m.  on,  where  I  halted  }  h.  for  din- 
ner), which  is  the  freshest  looking  town  in  the  valley,  thanks  to  the  cruel  fate 
which  destroyed  nearly  all  its  houses  in  war  time,  and  so  gave  modern  archi- 
tecture a  chance  to  control  the  rebuilding.    I  reached   Mt  Crawford,  7I  m. 
in  I  h.,  and  walked  the  last  section  of  a  long  hill  with  a  toll-gate  near  its  top 
4}  m.  on,  meanwhile  riding  up  several  difficult  hills,  with  a  horseman  along- 
side me.    The  toll-gate  hill  would  be  ridable,  however,  with  a  favoring  wind 
and  smoother  surface.    I  halted  3  m.  beyond,  after  passing  Mt  Sydney,  and, 
after  another  5  m.,  reached  the  post  near  the  r.  r.  track  which  says  "  4  m.  to 
S."    Mounting  there  at  4.30, 1  reached  the  Virginia  Hotel  in  Staunton,  4  nt, 
at  5.15,  after  riding  up  in  succession  three  rather  difficult  hills.     No  sunshine 
brightened  this  day's  ride  of  42  m.,  though  the  air  was  very  warm,  and  the 
white  clouds  floating  along  the   summits  of  the  Blue   Ridge   made  quite  a 
pretty  picture. 

"  The  Shenandoah  Valley  in  1864/'  by  G«o.  E.  Pond,  associate  editor  of  the  Army  and Naoy 
Jowmali^.  Y.  :  Scribners,  1883,  pp.  286,  ^i),  is  a  book  which  should  be  read  by  erery  inteDi. 
gent  tourist  who  proposes  to  visit  this  most  attractive  locality ;  and  I  recommend  that  he  follow 
my  example  by  carrying  in  his  pocket  its  maps  and  pages  which  describe  the  battle-fields,— or 
else,  as  the  volume  is  not  a  heavy  one,  let  him  strap  it  bodily  to  his  bicycle.  "  The  Valley  of 
Virginia"  is  minutely  described  in  its  opening  chapter,  from  which  I  quote  below;  and  at  the 
head  of  this  is  an  excellent  map  (5^ by  i\  in.,  20  m.  to  i  in.),  showing  the  roads,  mountains 
and  streams  for  the  entire  region  between  Hagerstown  and  Cumberland,  on  the  n.,  above  the 
Potomac,  and  Lynchbui^  and  Appomattox  (40  m.  below  StauntonX  on  the  s.,  below  the  Jamea. 
Double-page  maps  of  the  battle-fields  at  Winchester  (1  m.  to  x  in.)  and  Fisher*s  Hill  (|  m.  to 
I  in.)  will  well  repay  careful  study  while  "  on  the  spot  ** ;  and  the  lesser  charts  make  a  useful 
showing  of  the  roads,  like  those  from  Newmarket  to  Loray,  p.  18,  and  Washington  to  Hagers- 
town, p.  52.  I  quote  from  pp.  1-8,  condensing  somewhat  the  phraseology:  "Viiginta*s 
parallel  rivers,  flowing  to  the  Atlantic,  were  water-barriers  against  attacks  from  the  n.,  whBe  iq>- 
reared  to  shield  its  w.  front  were  the  rampant  ridges  of  its  highlaod  domain.    The  valleyt  be- 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NA  TURAL  BRIDGE.    347 

tween  these  ridges  fumished  well-sheltered  avenues  for  invading  Northern  territory ;  and  the 
moat  commanding  one  of  all  was  the  valley  of  the«.Shenandoah,  named  from  the  chief  river  that 
drains  it.  Its  e.  wall  is  the  lofty  Blue  Ridge ;  its  w.,  the  North  mts.,  a  part  of  the  main  diain 
of  the  Alleghanies.  Since  its  course  is  s.  w.»  a  Confederate  anny  moving  n.  through  it  would 
at  the  same  time  draw  nearer  Washington,  whereas  a  Union  advance  s.  would  diverge  from  the 
straight  course  to  Richmond.  The  Potomac  running  at  right  angles  to  the  line  of  the  Ridge>  a 
fbroe  aroasing  this  border  stream  at  Williamsport  would  already  be  60  m.  n.  or  in  the  rear  of 
Washington ;  while  one  day's  march  n.  through  the  Cumberland  Valley,  which  is  umply  a  con- 
tinuation (rf  the  Shenandoah,  would  carry  a  body  of  Confederate  horsemen  among  the  peaceful 
farm  lands  of  Pennsylvania.  Thus,  from  the  first,  the  Shenandoah  was  a  tempting  field  for  the 
strategists  of  both  armies.  The  war's  initial  campaign  turned  on  the  use  made  of  it  by  the 
forces  which-  General  J.  £.  Johnston  posted  at  its  outlet,  and  it  was  the  scene  of  constant  Con- 
federate manoeuvring,  whether  on  a  large  scale,  under  Jackson,  Ewell  and  Early,  or  on  a  smaller 
one,  under  Ashby,  Mosby,  Imboden  and  Gilmor.  Lee  found  there  a  line  ti  communications  for 
his  Maryland  campaign,  and  captured  at  Harper's  Ferry  10,000  men  and  73  guns.  There,  too, 
he  sought  rest  and  refreshment  in  retreating  from  the  Antietam ;  and  thither  again  (having 
made  it  the  route  of  his  second  invasion  after  defeating  Hooker  at  Chancellorsville)  he  fell  badi 
after  Gettysburg,  pitching  his  camps  along  the  Opequon.  Thus,  though  subordinate  to  the 
main  scene  of  operations  e.  of  the  ^ue  Ridge,  the  valley  had  always  played  an  important 
part  in  the  drama  of  the  war.  It  had  yielded  so  many  captures  of  Union  garrisons,  and  so  many 
disasters  in  the  field,  as  to  be  called  the  Valley  of  Humiliation ;  and  not  until  it  was  wrested 
from  Confederate  control  in  '64,  as  set  forth  in  this  volume,  did  the  problem  of  the  Richmond 
campaign  find  a  successful  scdution.  *  *  *  In  the  mountainous  country  s.  of  the  S.  valley 
proper,  the  rivers  run  to  all  points  of  the  compass.  The  Roanoke  and  the  New  diverge  from 
opposite  slopes  of  the  same  range ;  the  Kanawha  and  the  James,  from  neighboring  headwaters, 
take  their  several  ways,  after  many  turnings,  the  one  to  the  Mississippi  and  the  other  to  the 
Atlantic.  A  Uttle  s.  of  where  the  James  rushes  through  the  Blue  Ridge  at  Balcony  Falls, 
the  range  also  breaks  apart  at  the  Peaks  of  Otter.  On  a  branch  of  the  James,  called  North 
river,  is  Lexington,  a  county  seat ;  and  this  brings  us  fairly  mto  the  valley  itself,  for  below  L. 
the  S.  takes  its  rise  in  a  multitude  of  streams  that  combine  in  three,  called  North,  Middle  and 
South,  these  uniting  in  turn  lower  down,  near  Port  Republic  At  Staunton,  35  m.  below  L., 
we  strike  upon  the  valley  pike,  a  fine,  macadamized  road,  well  worn  by  Northern  and  Southern 
troops  and  trains.  W.  of  the  pike  is  the  '  back-road,'  with  a  '  middle  road  '  in  some  places 
between  the  two.  Near  Harrisonburg,  as  m.  n.  of  Staunton,  an  isolated  chain  called  Massa- 
nutten,  rising  abruptly  to  a  height  equal  to  that  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  divides  the  valley  for  more 
than  40  m.,  until  at  Strasburg  this  beautiful  range  suddenly  falls  again  into  the  plains.  It  was 
crossed  by  a  good  road  connecting  Newmarket  with  Luray.  The  South  Fork,  or  larger  branch 
of  the  Shenandoah,  flows  through  the  easternmost  of  the  two  valleys  created  by  Massanutten— 
called  Page  or  Luray  valley — ^while  the  main  or  Strasburg  valley,  w.  of  the  range,  is  drained  by 
the  North  Fork,  which,  rising  in  tho  N.  mts.,  winds  along  the  w.  flank  of  Massanutten,  until, 
escaping  around  the  base  at  Strasburg,  it  joins  the  South  Fork  near  Front  Royal,  and  the  main 
river  thus  formed  skirts  thenceforth  the  foot  of  the  Blue  Ridge  till  ft  swells  the  Potomac  at 
Harper's  Ferry,  155  m.  below  Lexington.  At  Strasburg,  the  valley,  relieved  of  the  Massa^ 
BVtten,  recovers  its  usual  breadth  of  ao  m.  Military  operations  were  aided  by  the  fine  roads 
that  connected  all  the  important  towns  with  each  other  and,  through  the  leading  gaps,  with 
those  of  Eastern  Virginia.  The  valley  was  also  so  largely  deared  and  cultivated  that  troops  could 
march  almost  where  they  liked  through  the  fields,  on  both  sides  of  the  roads,  leaving  these  for 
the  guns  and  wagons,  the  whole  column  thereby  advandng  very  rapidly.  The  creeks  and  rivers 
could  be  wsided  nearly  everywhere  during  tfa^MMIMr  asd  autumn,  the  military  significance  of 
the  fords  being  in  most  instances  BiaHteJft|HSMrik^f|)pffoaches  to  the  croaaing-places ;  for 
often  even  small  streams  ran  betWH^^^^^^'^^'^  btpks.  In  tha  FPtfcMfV  then 
are  ptacticable  9ps  all  the  waf  ^1^^^  ^^^  ^  -  '^  "n%  th«l  «DMM||j^^^y  with 
Basiem  Viigmia.    Beginning  li^V  -    --Wk  ilW         "^^^nM^^SSV^-^Ws. 


350 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


a  post  a  m.  from  the  hotel,  and  i  m.  beyond  my  last  attempt  to  try  the  saddle,  I  gave  tip  hope, 
and  floundered  back  again  through  the  mist  and  drizzle  to  my  starting  point.  Deciding  then  to 
wheel  homewards  to  New  York,  without  even  visiting  the  Bridge,  I  was  again  balked,  by  my 
mechanical  dumstness  in  "  tightening  up  **  the  bicycle  to  such  a  degree  that  its  wheels  refused 
to  revolve  at  all  (see  p.  46).  So,  at  5  o'dodc  I  started  with  it  by  train  for  Lexington,  on  the 
newly-opened  Valley  Branch  of  the  B.  &  O.  r.  r.,  whose  terminal  station  was  yet  unbuilt,  and 
whose  passengers  were  at  8  o'dock  plumped  down  m  the  mud  and  rain  and  pitchy  darkness,  at 
a  desolate  point  t  m.  from  town.  A  hackman  kindly  offered  to  carry  my  bicycle  thither  for  ^i, 
and  assured  me  that  no  shdter  could  be  found  for  it  otherwise ;  but  I  discovered  a  little  dianty 
used  by  the  telegraphers,  and  persuaded  them  to  receive  "  No.  234,"  though  they  warned  me 
that  it  would  probably  be  stolen  before  the  next  night.  Considering  that  three  spokes  were 
knocked  out  and  the  rim  so  cracked  and  bulged  as  not  to  turn  at  all,  I  gladly  accepted  the 
chance  of  robbery,  and  then  I  tramped  through  the  mist  and  mud  for  the  National  Hotel,  where  a 
most  wretched  supper  formed  a  fitting  finale  to  the  pleasures  of  the  day.  As  this  hotel  is  not 
only  "  the  best  one  in  town,"  but  also  "  the  oldest,"  it  is  no  more  than  fair  that  I  should  record 
my  surprise  and  delight  on  being  shown  to  a  bedroom  whose  furniture  and  fittings  were  new  and 
neat — instead  of  being  (as  I  shudderingly  expected)  the  ancient  and  fish-like  relics  of  "  befo*  de 
wah."  Wakened  by  request  at  5  a.  m.,  I  finally  dressed  in  a  hurry  and  ran  through  the  fog  and 
darkness  to  catch  the  6.30  tram  for  Balcony  Falls,  at  whose  sole  and  single  "  boarding-house  "  I 
ultimately  managed  to  get  a  breakfast,  of  oysters  and  chicken.  The  latter  was  walking  around 
the  house,  quite  sodable  like,  when  I  clambered  down  from  the  train  ;  and  the  attending  negress, 
who  did  the  cooking  for  the  establishment,  wrung  its  neck  in  my  presence,  and  then  dissected  the 
carcass  and  threw  the  pieces  into  the  frying  pan,  with  a  matter-of-fact  dexterity  whidi  the 
chicken  had  doubtless,  on  previous  occasions,  thought  very  charming  to  behold.  Breakfast 
over  at  9. 15, 1  started  out  through  the  fog,  and  reached  the  Natural  Bridge  Hotel,  9  m.  in  s)  h.,  by 
which  time  the  sun  was  shining  brightly. 

Balcony  Falls  lies  on  the  main  line  of  the  Richmond  &  Alleghany  r.  r.  (whidi  is  a  recent 
successor  to  the  old  James  river  canal  of  Washington's  time— running  largely  upon  its  tow- 
path,  and  making  the  same  unfortunate  short-stop  at  (^fton  Forge,  230  m.,  without  crossing 
the  Alleghanies),  and  I  had  reached  it  by  a  branch  trade  of  ai  m.  from  L.,  thereby  gettiiq; 
within  6  m.  of  the  station  called  Natural  Bridge.  An  up-hill  carriage  road  of  3I  m.  lead* 
thence  to  the  hotel ;  but  as  no  train  was  due  on  the  main  line  for  4  h.,  I  walked  along  the  tiaidc 
for  6  m.,  and  then  had  a  pleasant  tramp  through  the  woods,  along  a  path  where  bicycling  wookl 
be  occasionally  practicable,  in  spite  of  all  the  hard  things  the  Washington  wheelmen  wrote  about 
it.  I  came  down  the  same  road  in  a  carriage,  the  next  noon,  in  the  midst  of  a  rain  storm  which 
had  raged  with  varying  intensity  for  hours,  and  took  train  for  20  m.  to  Riverside,  whence  I 
tramped  back  to  my  hotel  at  Lexington,  7  m.  in  2  h.,  in  season  for  supper,  and  then  at  8,  widi 
my  bicycle  safely  stored  in  the  baggage-car,  began  my  homeward  )oumey  to  New  York,  450  m. 
in  19  h.  The  Valley  Brandi  of  the  B.  &  O.  r.  r.  extends  along  the  w.  side  of  the  Massanutten, 
through  Strasburg  and  Winchester,  and  joins  the  main  line  at  Harper*s  Ferry;  while  the  Shen- 
andoah Valley  r.  r.  runs  parallel  to  it  along  the  e.  or  Luray  side  of  Massanutten,  stretching  from 
Hagerstown  240  m.  s.  to  Roanoke,  and  crossing  the  R.  &  A.  r.  r.  at  Natural  Bridge  station,  40 
m.  from  Roanoke.  Hence,  except  for  the  need  of  going  back  to  L.  for  my  bicycle,  I  should 
not  have  left  the  train  of  this  road  at  Riverside,  but  should  liave  kept  it  straight  down  the  val- 
ley until  it  met  the  B.  &  O.  main  line ;  or,  if  I  had  wished  to  reach  Staunton,  I  should  have  got 
off  at  Waynesboro  Junction,  55  m.  from  Natural  Bridge,  and  taken  the  Chesapeake  &  Ohio  r.  r. 
for  12  m.  to  S.  My  object  in  giving  all  these  details  is  to  make  dear  to  the  touring  wheel- 
man that  the  most  eoonomica]  way  of  combining  a  visit  to  the  two  great  natural  wonders  of 
Virginia  is  to  take  train  directly  from  Luray  to  Natural  Bridge,  no  m.  Waynesboro  is  josi 
half-way  between,  dose  beside  Rockfish  Gap,  through  which  the  C.  &  O.  r.  r.  goes  to  Charlottes- 
ville  (the  chief  town  of  Albemarie  county,  and  seat  of  the  Univeraity  of  Virginia),  27  m.  e.,  and 
to  Gordonsville,  21  m.  n.  e.  Culpeper  is  about  25  m.  n.  of  G.,  and  Warrenton  about  2onk  a. 
of  C ;  and  Chapter  XXVL  will  describe  the  route  I  wheeled  from  Washington  to  WanreoloB 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE,    351 

and  thence  to  Luiay.  By  taking  train  at  L.  at  a  p.  m.,  one  may  reach  Natural  Bridge  at  6, 
spend  the  night  and  following  forenoon  there  and  get  back  to  L*. -again  at  6;  or  he  may  spend 
36  h.  at  the  Bridge,  take  train  at  t  o'clock  and  reach  L.  at  5  A.  m.  Or,  if  he  prefers  to 
leave  L.  at  a  a.  m.,  he  may  readi  the  Bridge  at  daybreak,  and  start  on  the  return  either  at  mid- 
day or  midnight.  As  these  trains  are  la  h.  apart,  and  as  the  C.  &  O.  r.  r.  also  has  only  two 
trains  a  day,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  chances  are  very  slight  of  changing  trains  at  Waynesboro 
Junction  (for  Staunton,  la  m.  w.,  or  Chark>ttesville,  37  m.  e.)  without  long  delays.  That  is  why 
I  say  that  L.,  though  50  m.  further  from  the  Bridge  than  S.,  b  the  most  economical  point  of 
resorting  to  the  r.  r.  for  a  touring  wheelman  who  designs  to  visit  all  three  places.  Remounting 
h»  wheel  at  L.  at  daybreak  (after  a  comforuble  night  at  the  famous  hotel  there,  or  a  night  on 
the  train),  he  may  climb  over  the  Masaanutten  to  Newmarket  and  then  speed  down  the  valley 
pike  to  S. ;  or,  if  hs  wishes  to  go  around  the  mountam  rather  than  over  it,  he  may  follow  the  South 
Folk  n.  for  20  m.  through  the  Lnray  valley  to  Front  Royal  (though  I  have  quoted  an  authority 
in  praise  of  this  road,  p.  34ft,  I  was  told  at  L.  that  it  was  fairly  ridable  in  dry  weather  only),  and 
thence  t.  w.  10  m.  to  the  pike  at  Strasbuig  or  Middletown.  Varying  my  recommendation  some- 
what,  I  may  suggest  that,  if  a  man  W«  spry,  he  might  be  able  to  get  his  wheel  from  the  bag- 
gage-car  to  the  baggage-room  at  Waynesboro  during  the  halt  of  the  train  which  was  taking  him 
from  L.  to  Natural  Bridge ;  and  then,  returning  to  W.  instead  of  L.,  he  could  wheel  the  za  m. 
to  S.,  if  the  weather  favored,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  wait  for  a  connecting  train.  Another  varia- 
tion would  be  to  wheel  from  S.  to  W.,  and,  after  taking  a  visit  by  train  to  L.,  or  the  Bridge,  or 
both,  rejoin  the  bicycle  at  W.,  and  push  it  through  the  gap  to  Charlottesville,  where  may  be 
risited  the  tomb  of  Thomas  Jefiferaon  at  Montioello.  Still  another  plan  would  be,  in  returning 
n.  by  train  from  the  Bridge,  to  snatch  the  bicycle  out  of  the  baggage-room  at  W.  and  put  it  on 
the  same  train,  which  would  then  carry  the  tourist  directly  along  to  the  junction  with  the  B.  & 
O.  main  line,  mm.  above,  or  allow  him  to  halt  at  L.,  when  half-way  thither.  Holders  of  first- 
dass,  unlimited  tickets  are  allowed  "  stop-over  privileges  "  at  both  Luray  and  Natural  Bridge. 

**  The  red  clay  road  from  Staunton  to  Chvlottesville  gets  in  fine  condition  at  times ;  but  a 
coatinned  drought  makes  it  seriously  dusty,  and  rains  turn  it  into  deep  mud.  Same  may  be  said 
of  route  to  Lexington.  The  road  to  White  Sulphur  Springs  (90  m.  s.  w.  on  C.  &  O.  r.  r.)  is  an 
old  pike,  free  from  sand,  smooth  and  hard.  Except  for  a  few  places  where  the  grades  are  rather 
heavy,  it  oould  all  be  ridden.  The  scenery  is  magnificent ;  and,  even  with  my  limited  experience, 
I  should  not  be  afraid  to  attempt  the  trip."  Such  is  the  report  to  me  (March  21,  '85)  of  W.  W. 
Gibbs,  President  of  the  Star  B.  C.  at  S. ;  and  I  supplement  it  with  the  following,  from  L.  B. 
Enslow,  of  Richmond  (July  9,  '83) :  "  Such  ]3arts  of  the  old  stage  road  as  I  saw  from  the  car 
windows  between  White  Sulphur  Springs  and  S.  were  equal  to  the  smoothest  streets  in  Wash- 
ington, being  composed  of  minute  partides  of  slate,  packed  hard  and  smooth.  But  there  were 
lots  of  hills  that  would  give  good  chances  for  walking.  I  am  told  that  roads  are  good  from  S. 
to  GonlonsviHe ;  and  my  observation  from  the  car  window  would  confirm  this.  The  hill  coun- 
try is  there  left  behind,  and  with  it  rocks,  and,  as  a  consequence,  good  roads.  From  G.  to 
Richmond  (76  m.  s.  e.  by  r.  r.)  they  are  said  to  be  sandy.  From  R.  to  Lexington  (115  m.  w.  in 
a  bee  line)  I  know  nothing  about  them.  Sandy  roads  prevent  our  taking  any  long  runs  from  R. 
Aihland  we  sometimes  visit,  by  a  route  of  36  m.,  which  requires  a  6  m.  walk  in  sand  five  inches 
deep.    The  riding  to  Petersburg,  ao  m.  s.  e.,  is  also  very  tiresome,  and  a  or  3  m.  must  be  walked." 

Pottstown,  43  m.  n.  w.  of  Philadelphia,  is  the  home  of  Hugh  J.  High,  who  wheeled  3409 
in.,  between  May  4  and  OcL  10,  '85,  mostly  in  a  circuit  of  unrepeated  roadway.  A  full  account 
of  thb  notable  journey  will  be  given  in  Chapter  XXX. ;  but,  for  better  comparison  with  hicts 
in  the  present,  I  here  exhiUt  the  route  of  his  last  la  days ;  "Sept.  39,  Grayson,  Ky.,  to 
Barfaersville,  W.  Va.,  46  m.  (a),  S  h. ;  soCh,  (Charleston,  4a  m.  (li),  7  h. ;  Oct.  1,  Gauley's 
Bridge,  38  m.  (ji),  8  h. ;  ad,  Big  Snail  lft^H|yHi),  to  h. ;  3d,  Lewisburg,  27  m.  (15),  7}  h. ; 
4th,  Covington,  Va.,  3am.  (8),  7  !>•  1Ld|[fe|flBHHb|so)t  8h. ;  6th,  Mt.  Sidney,  4a  m.  (8), 
8 h. ;  7th,  StrasburK*  6s  m., ylkf ||||^^^HE^^^VHl|0lf  New  OiUbl&|a»(9),  7}  ^A 
loth,  Pottstowm,  8t  m.  (4)»  m^M^^^^^^^ \mm-  >  **V^C^M||MHpNHb  day, 
and  the  h.  numerala  a^xm^iIH^^^^^^V  '^  ^  <     -'HfiMMM^H^t  ^'^^  were 


352 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


shortened  by  rain."  His  last  .day's  ride  was  the  longest  of  the  entire  journey,  and  the  last  four 
days*  ride  (254  m.)  was  the  longest  American  straightaway  run  for  that  period  which  I  have  yet 
heard  of.  It  was  completed,  oddly  enough,  on  the  very  day  after  I  wrote  the  words  on  p.  317, 
saying  that  my  own  250  m.  Canadian  run,  of  exactly  two  years  earlier,  appeared  to  be  the 
longest ;  and,  as  a  furthur  coincidence,  it  began  at  Mt.  Sidney  (see  p.  346),  a  point  only*  10  m. 
from  the  finish  of  my  1400  m.  tour,  whereof  the  250  m.  run  had  marked  the  start. 

"Johnson's  Family  Atlas  "  (N.  Y.  :  J.  H.  Colton  and  A.  J.  Johnson,  1864,  pp.  124,  18  by 

14  in.,  $12)  has  a  double-page  "map  of  the  Peninsula  Campaign,  compiled  from  the  oflidal 
maps  of  the  War  Department,"  on  a  scale  of  3  m.  to  1  in.  Richmond  being  at  the  middle  <rf 
the  w.  margin;  a  strip  of  country  50  m.  wide  is  shown,  stretching  thence  e.  to  Norfolk  a«*< 
Chesapeake  Bay,  and  all  the  roads,  streams,  swamps  and  hills,  and  the  marches  of  the  Uni<m 
armies,  are  plainly  marked.  The  "  Virginia "  map,  in  the  same  atlas  (25  m.  to  i  in.)  also 
shows  the  more  important  roads ;  and  a  like  remark  may  be  made  of  neariy  all  the  other  States 
in  the  book, — ^the  combined  map  of  Mass.,  Conn,  and  R.  I.  being  the  best,  because  of  its  \ufgt 
scale,  8  m.  to  I  in.  Street  plans  of  the  cities  of  New  York  (i  m.  to  3  in.)  and  Washington  (1 
m.  to  2^  in.)  are  likewise  given.  All  the  roads  between  W.^and  Richmond  are  also  shown  on 
the  map  (12  by  12  in.,  18  m.  to  i  in.)  which  accompanies  "  The  Vitginia  Campaigns  of  '64  and 
'6s,"  by  Andrew  A.  Humphreys,  Brig.-Gen.  and  Chief  of  Engineers,  U.  S.  A.  (N.  Y. :  Scrib- 
ners,  1883,  $1) ;  and  the  book  itself  may  be  recommended  as  a  worthy  guide  for  the  studious 
tourist  in  this  region  of  battle-fields.  It  is  the  final  one  in  a  series  of  a  dozen  volumes  of  uni- 
form binding  and  price,  called  "  The  Campaign  of  the  Civil  War,"  and  its  immediate  predeceaaor 
was  the  Shenandoah  book  from  which  I  have  liberally  quoted.  The  four  earlier  ones  which  con- 
cern Virginia  are  :  (III.)  "The  Peninsula,"  by  Alexander  S.  Webb,  Bvt  Maj.-G«n.  U.  S.  A., 
Assisunt  Chief  of  Artillery,  Army  of  the  Potomac,  i86i-'62 ;  (IV.)  "  The  Army  Under  Pope," 
by  John  C.  Ropes,  of  the  Military  Historical  Society  of  Massachusetts ;  (V.)  "  The  Antietam 
and  Fredericksburg,"  by  Francis  Winthrop  Palfrey,  late  Colonel  aoth  Mass.  Infantry,  Bvt.  Brig.- 
Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. ;  (VI.)  "  Chancellorsville  and  Gettysburg,"  by  Abner  Doubleday,  Bvt.  Ma}.- 
Gen.  U.  S.  A.,  and  late  Ma).-Gen.  U.  S.  Vols.,  commanding  the  First  Corps  at  Gettysburg. 
Numerous  maps  are  given  in  all  four  books, — ^the  best  ones  showing  the  country  from  Washing- 
ton to  Warrenton  and  Sperryvillc  (Vol.  IV.),  and  from  the  Potomac  to  Harrisburg  (Vol.  VI., 

15  m.  to  z  in.),  and  the  four  battle-fields  named  in  the  titles,  i  m.  to  z  in.  For  the  sake  of  com- 
pleteness, I  append  the  titles  of  the  other  volumes  of  the  series,  and  also  of  three  similar  ones 
called  "The  Navy  in  the  Qvil  War."  TourisU  in  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  and  Georgia, 
and  along  the  Mississippi  and  the  Gulf  and  Atlantic  coasts,  will  do  well  to  study  all  these 
books,  though  their  maps  of  the  three  States  named  are  on  too  small  a  scale  to  serve  as  road 
guides :  (II.)  "  From  Fort  Henry  to  Corinth,"  by  M.  F.  Force,  late  Brig.-Gen.  and  Bvt.  Maj.- 
Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. ;  (VII.)  "  The  Army  of  the  Cumberland,"  by  Henry  M.  Cist,  Bvt.  Brig.-Gen. 
U.  S.  Vols.,  Secreury  of  the  Society  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland;  (VIII.)  "The  Missis- 
sippi," by  F.  V.  Greene,  Lieut,  of  Engineers,  U.  S.  Army;  (IX.)  "Atlanta,"  by  Jacob  D. 
Cox,  ex-Govemor  of  Ohio;  late  Secretary  of  the  Interior  of  the  United  States;  Maj. -Gen.  U. 
S.  Vols.,  commanding  23d  Corps ;  (X.)  "  The  March  to  the  Sea— Franklin  and  Nashville,"  by 
Jacob  D.  Cox ;  "  The  Blodcade  and  the  Cndaers,"  by  J.  Russell  Soley,  Professor  in  the  United 
States  Navy;  "The  Atlantic  Coast,"  by  Rear-Admiral  Daniel  Ammen,  U.  S.  Navy;  "The 
Gulf  and  Inland  Waters,"  by  Commander  A.  T.  Mahan,  U.  S.  Navy.  The  Coltons  (z8a  Will- 
iam  St.,  N.  Y.)  issue  "  a  nmp  of  Va.,  W.  Va.,  Md.  and  Del.,  with  E.  Tenn.,  and  parts  of  other 
States  "  (46  by  3a  in.,  z2  m.  to  z  in.,  Iz.50,  mounted  I3),  which  their  catalogue  calls  "  the  best 
ever  published  of  those  States ;  for  its  large  scale  and  careful  execution  enable  a  great  amount  of 
information  to  be  clearly  represented."  They  also  have  a  map  of  the  same  region,  z8  by  %^  in., 
75c  ;  "  Delaware,"  26  by  z6  in.,  $1.25 ;  "  Md.  and  Del.,  with  a  plan  of  the  District  of  Colum- 
bia," z8  by  Z4  in.,  50  c. ;  and  "  City  of  Washington,"  x8  by  14  in.,  50  c.  In  the  list  of  pocket- 
maiM  issued  by  G.  H.  Adams  &  Sotk,  59  Beekman  St.,  N.  Y.,  (tec.  each,  so  m.  to  z  in.)  are 
"  Va.  and  W.  Va.,"  "  Md.  and  Del.,"  "  Ky.  and  Tenn.,"  "  N.  C.  and  S.  C,"  "  Ga.  and  Ala.," 
"  Ala.  and  Miss.,"  "  Horida,"  "Texas,"  "  Aric.  and  Indian  Ter." 


XXV. 

THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA.^ 

"  There  are  islands  in  the  ocean 

Where  the  wild  and  restless  motion 
Of  the  heart  that  beats  and  sui]ges  with  its  passion  and  its  pain. 

May  be  stilled  to  quiet  dreaming 

Till  all  pain  is  but  a  seeming 
Of  a  world  long  left  behind  us  that  we  ne'er  shall  see  again." 

"  The  Bermudas  "^  hkd  been  present  to  my  mind  for  more  than  a  dozen 
years,  as  a  spot  of  the  earth's  surface  which  I  definitely  desired  to  visit,  when 
there  came  to  me,  at  the  opening  of  the  year  1884,  a  letter  which  I  felt  myself 
quite  competent  to  answer  by  an  emphatic  No,  without  even  troubling  my- 
self  to  break  the  seal  of  it.  I  recognized  the  superscription  as  that  of  the 
genial  enthusiast  who  had  persuaded  me  to  be  one  of  the  three  dozen  '*  par- 
ticipants "  in  a  week's  wheeling  "  amid  the  down  east  fogs,"  of  the  previous 
June;  and  I  felt  assured  that  he  was  now  trying  to  persuade  me  to  par- 
ticipate in  a  similar  excursion  **  along  the  Kennebec,"  which  I  knew  that  he 
was  organizing  for  the  following  June.  Considering  that  he  understood 
perfectly  well  my  settled  objection  to  the  personal  discomforts  necessarily 
connected  with  "  touring  in  a  crowd,"  and  my  expressed  belief  that  one  expe- 
rience of  the  same  would  last  me  for  a  life-time,  I  felt  mildly  exasperated  at 
his  temerity  in  thus  attempting  to  overcome  my  old-time  prejudices.  Taking 
up  my  pen  to  give  written  expression  of  this  feeling,  it  occurred  to  me  that 
civility  demanded  my  first  taking  a  glance  at  his  letter ;  and,  when  I  opened 
it,  I  found  that  it  invited  me  to  join — not  a  crowd  of  summer  saunterers 
a-wheelback  amid  the  woods  of  Maine,  but  his  own  solitary  self  on  a  winter's 
voyage  to  the  Bermudas  I  Somehow,  it  had  been  his  luck  to  strike  the  one 
weak  joint  in  my  harness, — ^to  make  an  irresistible  appeal  to  me, — ^to  compel 
my  unconditional  surrender.  Temptation,  in  behalf  of  any  other  locality, 
would  have  been  resisted  by  me ;  since  duty  demanded  that  I  should  work 
*' twenty-five  hours  a  day  for  eight  days  in  the  week,"  in  order  to  give  a 
successful  start  to  my  canvass  for  subscriptions  to  **  Ten  Thousand  Miles 
on  a  Bicycle";  and  since  prudence  assured  me  that  I  could  spare  neither 
the  time  nor  the  money  for  any  such  mid-winter  outing.  But  this  tempta- 
tion was  not  "in  behalf  of  any  other  locality," — ^it  was  in  behalf  of  "the 
Bennudas,"^n  behalf  «of  the  very  scenes  which  I  for  a  decade  had  been 
vaguely  yearning  to  set  my  eyes  upon, — in  behalf  of  the  very  place  to  which 

iProm  TAe  Sprmgfitld  WheelmeiCs  GazetUt  January,  1885,  pp.  139-143. 


354  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  had  insensibly  attached  the  quoted  bit  of  newspaper  verse  as  a  true  de- 
scription ;  a  place  where 

"  There  are  little  shady  harbors, 
There  are  cool  and  quiet  arbors, 
'Neath  the  trees  upon  the  islands  that  are  brightly  resting  there." 

In  the  face  of  this  extreme  temptation,  presented  so  unexpectedly,  and  in 
such  glowing  colors,  I  hesitated — and  was  lost.  Duty  and  prudence  ceased 
to  have  compelling  power.  To  me,  as  to  the  mariner  in  the  old  story,  Ber- 
muda had  suddenly  become  a  veritable  Loadstone  Rock.  *'  It  was  drawing 
me  to  itself,  and  I  must  go."  At  first,  of  course,  I  quieted  my  conscience 
with  a  few  weak  struggles  against  the  inevitable ;  but  after  the  man  of  Maine 
had  made  plausible  answers  to  the  various  practical  difficulties  which  I 
urged  against  accepting  his  proposal,  I,  "  saying  I  would  ne'er  consent, 
consented."  Then,  having  named  the  day,  I  hurled  at  him  still  another 
stanza  from  the  song  already  quoted.    "  Yes  I "  I  cried, 

"  Yes,  away  we'll  go  a-boating, 

And  to  other  islands  floating, 
Other  skies  and  other  idling  seeking,  with  our  careless  song ; 

Now  in  bright  lagoons  be  sailing 

Where  our  heavy  keel  goes  trailing. 
From  beyond  the  reef  of  coral,  all  its  listless  wake  along." 

The  steamship  "  Orinoco  "  took  us  away  from  New  York  on  a  Thursday 
afternoon,  the  6th  of  March,  just  as  the  sunshine  had  begun  to  disp>el  the 
wintry  gloom  in  which  a  raging  snow-storm  had  for  twenty-four  hours  en- 
shrouded the  great  city ;  and  daybreak  of  Sunday  disclosed  to  us  the  longed- 
for  outlines  of  the  blessed  islands,  whose  verdure  was  suggestive  of  perpetual 
summer,  though  there  were  spots  of  limestone  glistening  through  the  green, 
as  a  sort  of  reminder  of  the  snow  which  we  had  so  recently  fied  from.  The 
literature  of  the  locality  had  been  well-studied  during  the  voyage;  and  I 
may  properly  quote  from  it,  at  this  point,  enough  preliminary  facts  to  render 
intelligible  the  record  of  my  own  personal  explorations.  A  Philadelphia 
lawyer  shall  be  my  first  authority*  : — 

These  islands,  now  converted  into  one  by  permanent  and  solid  causeways,  constitute  the 
summit  of  a  great  submarine  mountain,  somewhat  higher  than  Mont  Blanc,  smd  some  600  miles 
distant  from  any  other  land.  The  land  area  is  about  nineteen  and  one-fourth  square  mDes, 
or  about  13,378  acres,  of  which  3,300  acres  are  under  tillage.  The  construction  of  its  rodcs, 
and  the  derivation  of  its  vegetation,  birds,  and  insects,  afford  some  interesting  and  suggestive 
inustrations  of  modem  views  on  those  entertaining  subjects.  Its  settlement  was  nearly  cdo- 
ddent  with  that  of  Virginia,  although  its  population  of  761  per  square  mile  far  exceeds  that 
of  Viii^nia,  or  of  any  other  rural  part  of  the  adjacent  continent.  The  aggregate  population 
(exclusive  of  sailors  and  soldiers)  is  14,650,  of  which  60  per  cent,  is  colored,  but,  owing  to  a 
;C6o  freehold  qualification,  the  whole  number  of  legal  voters  is  854.  Hence  the  representative 
body,  as  well  as  all  administrative  functions,  is  in  the  hands  of  the  moat  respected,  tax-paying 


If.  J.  W.,  in  Tkt  Nation,  March  37,  1884,  p.  37$. 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA.  353 

cidaens.  The  geneial  revenue  is  about  ;C3o,ooo,  derived  entirely  from  a  specific  duty  on  qiirits 
and  tobacco,  and  a  trifling  ad-valorem  duty  of  5  per  cent,  on  all  other  importations.  From 
this  revenue  is  maintained  the  entire  legislative  and  judicial,  and  a  fair  proportion  of  the  ex- 
ecutive machinery,  excellent  municipal  conveniences  in  the  two  towns  of  Hamilton  and  St. 
Geoige's,  a  general  island  police,  and  the  efficient  maintenance  of  over  ninety-five  miles  of 
roads  and  streets,  exclusive  of  the  sixteen  miles  of  military  roads,  which  are  also  open  to  public 
use,  but  nuuntained  by  the  Imperial  military  authorities.  It  is  these  streets  and  roads,  and 
their  economic  construction,  which  are  especially  interesting  to  Americans,  who  have  only  got 
a  step  beyond  savage  tribes  in  the  making  and  maintenance  of  public  highways,  although  we 
dpend  somewhat  more  upon  them  than  the  ridiest  and  most  perfectly  supplied  European  na- 
tions. The  Bermuda  roads,  though  penetrating  a  very  uneven  and  undulating  surface,  are 
graded  ahnost  to  the  capacity  of  railroads,  riirinking  from  no  "  rock  cuts  "  or  expensive  "  fills," 
or  soHd  causeways,  to  obtain  this  result  Most  of  the  heaviest  work  of  grading,  draining,  and 
metaling  (they  are  all  metaled)  was  done  by  borrowing  long-term  convicts  from  the  mother- 
country.  The  heavy  fortifications  belonging  to  the  Imperial  Government  were  mainly  con- 
structed in  the  same  manner— that  is  to  say,  at  no  expense  except  transportation,  since  the 
convicts  had  to  be  subsisted  somewhere. 

The  situation  of  the  islands  (latitude,  32°  20'  N. ;  longitude,  64°  41'  W.)  is 
**  as  far  south  as  Charleston  and  as  far  east  as  Nova  Scotia ;  and  there  is 
said  to  be  no  habitable  land  so  isolated  on  the  face  of  the  round  globe, 
unless  it  may  possibly  be  St.  Helena."  Tropical  plants  flourish,  not  because 
the  summer  heat  greatly  exceeds  that  of  the  main  land,  but  because  they  are 
not  winter-killed.  A  mild  form  of  slavery  existed  from  1618  to  1834,  when 
the  English  Cvovemment  abolished  it  by  paying  about  $35  each  for  the  4,200 
blacks  then  in  servitude.  According  to  Godet  ('*  History  of  Bermuda,''  Lon- 
don, i860),  "  Bermuda,  conjointly  with  Halifax,  holds  in  check  the  whole 
Atlantic  coast  of  the  United  States,  upon  which  nature  has  bestowed  no 
equivalent  for  naval  purposes;  and  it  also  controls  the  West  Indies,  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  the  southern  coasts  of  the  United  States.''  A  well-known 
guide-book,^  after  remarking  that  "the  soil  is  very  thin,  and  of  a  red  color; 
that  it  is  already  overworked,  and  constantly  demands  fertilizers;  and  that 
it  is  but  a  sparse  stratum,  deposited  in  the  course  of  long  ages  on  a  limestone 
basis,"  adds : — 

The  most  noteworthy  characteristic  of  the  Bermudas,  in  the  opinion  of  the  scientist,  is 
their  formation.  OriginaUy  they  were  nothing  but  reefis  of  coral.  Gradually  the  central  por- 
tions  arose  above  the  sea,  and  then  the  surf,  beating  on  their  outer  coral  ledges,  wore  them 
into  sand,  which  was  washed  up  on  the  higher  parts.  Exposure  to  the  weather  of  an  ocean 
celebrated  for  the  inhospiuble  treatment  it  extends  to  those  who  court  iu  acquaintance,  had  a 
hardenmg  tendency,  and  these  heaps  of  loose  sand  became  indurated  into  limestone.  Nor  is 
the  process  yet  complete ;  it  is  still  going  on  along  the  southern  coast,  where  limestone  in  the 
various  stages  of  fonnation  may  be  seen,  from  hard  rock  to  softer  masses  like  cheese,  and  mere 
shifting  hills  composed  of  the  disintegrated  coral  washed  up  by  the  latest  storm.  These  islets 
Bumberone  hundred,  with  a  laige  flock  of  nameless  rocks.  The  main  group  forms  a  chain 
shaped  like  a  fish-hook,  from  St.  (George's  Island  to  Ireland  Island,  and  connected  by  cause- 
ways.   On  the  northern  side  they  are  hedged  in  by  a  remarkable  coralline  reef  extending  in  a 

»"The  Atlantic  Islands,"  by  S.  G.  W.  Benjamin,  8vo,  pp.  374  (New  York:  Harper  & 
Brothers,  1878),  devotes  twenty  pages  to  Bermuda. 


356  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

semi-circle  completely  across,  subtending  the  arc  of  the  bay  l3ring  between  these  two  islands,  a 
distance  of  twenty-five  miles.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  Bermudas  are  in  the  highest  lat^ 
itude  in  which  coral  insects  build  in  the  form  of  rocks.  In  heavy  weather  this  immense  barrier 
is  cruelly  terrible,  beaten  by  an  unbroken  mass  of  raging  breakers.  As  there  is  but  one  passage 
by  which  it  can  be  entered,  it  serves  as  an  impenetrable  cheved^-frue  against  all  ships  of 
the  enemy.  The  islands,  in  a  direct  line,  are  but  fifteen  miles  in  length,  and  never  over  two 
miles  broad,  and  generally  very  much  narrower,  and  excessively  cut  up  with  creeks  and  bays; 
and  yet  they  give  an  impression  of  a  much  larger  area —  to  such  a  degree  as  almost  to  come 
within  the  definition  of  an  illusion.  The  surface,  nowhere  ovef  250  feet  high,  is  always  undu- 
lating ;  and  thus  one  will  often  find  himself  in  a  little  sylvan  hollow  surrounded  by  hills  so  steep 
as  to  give  the  impression  of  considerable  elevation ;  they  are  clothed  with  cedar  groves.  On 
the  intervening  meadow-lands  lies,  perchance,  a  little  pool  surrounded  by  attractive  farm-houses 
and  gardens,  and  a  church-spire.  One  could  easily  imagine  himself  in  some  New  England  vale, 
hundreds  of  miles  from  the  sea,  when  a  turn  in  the  road  reveals  the  ocean  only  a  few  stt»re 
yards  away;  and  the  illusion  is  heightened  by  the  nimierous  admirable  roads  running  in  every 
direction.  A  penal  settlement  existed  until  recently  in  Bermuda,  and  the  convicts  were  em- 
ployed  to  hew  out  of  the  rocks  120  miles  of  carriage-roads.  The  question  is,  ''  If  these  men 
had  not  sinned,  would  these  roads  have  been  constructed  ?  and  what  would  these  islands  be 
without  these  roads?  " 

What  the  islands  are  with  them  was  pleasantly  told  in  a  series  of  letters 
to  the  New  York  Times^  during  the  first  two  months  of  1883,  ^y  ^*  Drys- 
dale,  whose  most  precious  bit  of  testimony  for  wheelmen  was  as  follows :  "  It 
would  be  hard  to  equal  the  Bermuda  roads,  and  utterly  impossible  to  excel 
them.  They  are  smooth,  hard,  and  clean.  When  there  are  hills,  they  are  not 
steep  hills.  When  it  is  dry,  there  is  no  dust.  When  it  is  rainy,  there  is  no 
mud.  These  roads  run  all  over  the  island  in  every  direction.  The  road-bed 
is  solid  rock,  planed  down  as  smooth  as  a  floor." 

Such  ideal  conditions  for  wheeling  are  due  to  the  singular  fact,  which 
gives  distinctiveness  to  so  many  other  conditions  of  existence  in  Bermuda, 
that  the  coral  or  limestone  can  be  cut  and  worked  almost  as  easily  as  if  it 
were  cheese.  **'  The  limestone  quarries,  whence  are  taken  the  great  blocks 
of  which  all  the  buildings  in  Bermuda  are  composed,  may  be  seen  every- 
where ;  but  the  chisel  and  hand-saw  take  the  place  of  blast  and  drill."  Mark 
Twain's  "  Notes  of  an  Idle  Excursion,"^  present  the  case  quite  clearly,  thus : — 

Bermuda  is  a  coral  island,  with  a  six  inch  crust  of  soil  on  top  of  it,  and  every  man  has  a 
quarry  on  his  own  premises.  Everywhere  you  go  you  see  square  recesses  cut  out  of  the  hill- 
sides, with  perpendicular  walls,  unmarred  by  crack  or  crevice ;  and  perhaps  you  imagine  tlvit  a 
house  grew  out  of  the  ground  there,  and  has  been  removed  in  a  single  piece  from  the  mould.  If 
you  do,  you  err ;  but  the  material  for  a  house  has  been  quarried  there.  They  cut  right  down 
through  the  coral,  to  any  depth  which  is  convenient, —  ten  to  twenty  feet, —  and  take  it  out 
in  great  square  blocks.  This  cutting  Is  done  with  a  chisel,  which  has  a  handle  twelve  or  fifteen 
feet  long,  and  is  used  as  one  uses  a  crowbar  when  he  b  drilling  a  hole,  or  a  dasher  when  he 
is  churning.  11ms  soft  is  this  stone.  Then,  with  a  common  hand-saw,  they  saw  the  great 
blodcs  into  handsome,  huge  bricks,  that  are  two  feet  long,  a  foot  wide,  and  about  nx  inches 
thick.    These  stand  loosely  piled  during  a  month  to  Iiarden ;  then  the  work  of  building  bq^ina. 


'Reprinted  as  the  second  chapter  (pp.  36  to  X05)  of  "The  Stolen  White  Elephant  **  (Bos* 
ton  :  Osgood  &  Co.,  1883). 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BFR.Ui  i^  «< 


,Vv" 


The  house  18  built  of  these  blockt;  it  is  roofed  with  brood  coial  b1«Im  ai\  uu^  l^t«i  «W,vw 
edges  lap  upon  e^ih  other,  so  that  the  roof  looks  like  a  succetnion  o(  RhAlKtw  ^W\^  tM  i«  <mss  «  . 
the  chimneys  are  built  of  the  coral  blocks,  and  sawed  into  graceful  and  pii-iiuvii()iii>  |Mti«(u» , 
the  ground  floor  veranda  is  paved  with  coral  blocks;  also  the  walk  to  th«  gAlo  «  ths  trm«  i« 
baih  oi  cani  Mocks,— built  in  massive  panels,  with  broad  capstones  and  heavy  KSie-fMisU,  «iu\ 
the  whole  trimmed  into  easy  lines  and  comely  shape  with  the  saw.  Then  thsy  put  a  hAid 
coot  of  whitewash,  as  thick  as  your  thumb-nail,  on  the  fence  and  all  ovrr  the  hmiM,  niof, 
chimneys  and  alL  Cased  thus  in  its  hard  scale  of  whitewash,  not  a  crack,  or  ftigii  of  a  im*m, 
or  joining  of  the  blocks,  is  detectable,  from  base-«t/jne  to  chjraney-tr/{j ;  the  buildittK  lonk*  am  if 
it  had  been  carved  from  a  single  block  of  stone,  and  the  <kxir«  and  wind'^ws  Mwrd  riul  »il»r' 
waids.  A  Bennoda  house  does  not  look  like  narbie ;  it  m  a  inutii  invtnt^  whit«  ihjn  titjl  It 
is  caactly  tlie  wbite  of  the  idng  of  a  cake,  and  has  ibe  namr  uuKtu'^tM.'jut4  9mA  v^/«>  /  i^'"-*!/ 
tihle  polish.  There  is  something  cx^b^arauti^.  ever  h;.«tr#'>'i«,  ^v>^  f%  r.,/:  *.*  '•^•«  w*^*. 
the  sun  plays  upon  it.  I  know  of  xiv  'jfJiKT  u>uijir%  ti^:  t^«  u  m  <^i^  —  v>v  >«,«•  ^k^  »•  -^  <'^ 
tlc&wDrid — worthy  to  be  gazed  ax  aiic  puai^x  •/vr'  M  f«»-T»-»«-'  .ms  //,  i*  '«<«  ••«».«  '^  #*»^y 
dif  CDDDSjy  roads,  among  little  putatu'i^mc  aix.  ^:<.*«c*  «^  v-rv*'  **  v^-" '  '•.^4«' •  '-«  ^ 
•?a«ii»«*  while  dwellings,  g^eamKir  uw  IruQ   ivu«^rv  «<^  i'^  ^i^^^   «.*>-  a'a  <•  *  » >  *  <•> 

jeafilistle  lit  of  a  cottage  is  as  wiiu«  ^nc   u«tiu<ut«<M    «ir  '.&■»   s^'  ^«    tu*-''/*/!       .    «««  ^m^    » 
T&sre  dirt  or  stench,  puddle  or  b'jf'vrdli'r*    i»<^p«?t    *^  *k*jf*  v   s**^   •/     'h"«^«   4*i^    ^4*  «i  «» 
Tat  TDBi^  the  streets,  the  dwe.uu{£i    ti>»  m^'J'^v    ti*»  '-f/*.!**   .-".»--   <->^  >«»i^.*^«     ^    *    m^ 
tr.TJE  ^fag  ia2Is  imder  the  eye     }:  n  ti*«    ii'l*«»'  vmi'«i"    *•    ♦•**    •  >*•      ,    *     •-     »   •     •  *. 
t.^irr;..  taci 

a  hiH  iacriMMs  nkC^-'ijujc  MUiH/tftt^  ^'  t^    w^i^^  't  *^>  «  f^.  ^/       »    «   ^ 


Txmh  pr^i  w  tiK  tA/r* 


c-/*««» 


a:  cjuTK  w 


Bui*-. 


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•««^'    myy» 


-n» 


■=£    1 


r.     w»    ».     uir    •.«     »     •     A*     -   •«.-•'        *,/•     %  j^   •   *  •^  "^    ,^'^0 

r    r   jja.       w^*-    rt^   li*-  •'s^abv     i^    •■  ^    «Mr..#>   ••     ^  .-•^  *'*     "^' 


•■.•-    <^  *  --r- 


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^'     lA.^^      «  « 


358         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

The  general  character  of  the  place  having  been  impressed  upon  the 
reader's  mind  by  this  graphic  and  appreciative  description,  he  will  be  enabled 
to  grasp  with  intelligence,  and  I  hope  with  sympathetic  interest,  the  statis- 
tical details  of  my  own  matter-of-fact  report  concerning  the  dear,  delightful 
paths  of  this  "  ocean  paradise  for  wheelmen."  Fort  St  George,  overlooking 
the  town  of  that  name,  which  was  formerly  the  capital  of  the  province,  stands 
;  at  the  most  northeasterly  part  of  the  Bermuda  "  fish-hook,"  or  at  the  top  of 
•  the  "  letter  J,"  which  slopes  thence  in  a  southwesterly  direction  for  a  dozen 
miles,  and  then  curves  to  the  west  and  north  for  six  miles,  ending  at  Som- 
erset. The  point  of  the  "  fish-hook  "  extends  two  miles  northeasterly  from 
here,  and  consists  of  Ireland  Island  (reached  by  a  horse-ferry),  on  which  is 
situated  the  Royal  dock-yard.  Less  than  a  mile  and  a  half  across  the  water 
from  this  is  Spanish  Point,  a  headland  projecting  from  where  the  curve  begins 
in  the  "  J  ";  and  two  miles  behind  this  headland  stands  **  Hamilton,  on  her 
clustered  hill-sides  and  summits,  the  whitest  mass  of  terraced  architecture 
which  exists  in  the  world."  The  relative  situation  of  things  may  perhaps  be 
suggested  more  clearly  by  considering  Spanish  Point  as  the  end  of  the  left 
thimib,  Ireland  Point  as  the  end  of  the  forefinger,  which  is  crooked  towards 
it,  and  Hamilton  Harbor  ais  lying  at  the  junction  of  the  thumb  and  finger.  In 
entering  this  harbor,  "  we  steamed  between  two  island  points,  whose  rocky 
jaws  allowed  only  just  enough  room  for  the  vessel's  body," — and  it  is  only 
for  a  few  hours  of  each  day,  when  the  tide  is  high,  that  they  allow  even  this. 
Hence,  though  we  were  in  sight  of  land  at  daybreak  on  Sunday,  and  though 
we  soon  came  up  within  hailing  distance  of  Fort  St.  Gebrge,  and  then  steamed 
along  the  coast  for  ten  miles,  to  the  anchorage  in  Grassy  Bay,  off  the  dock- 
yard, the  "  Orinoco  "  did  not  reach  the  dock  in  Hamilton  until  late  in  the 
afternoon.  Most  of  her  passengers  went  ashore  six  hours  earlier,  however, 
in  a  steam-launch  which  came  alongside  for  that  purpose ;  but,  as  the  customs 
regulations  forbade  the  taking  of  anything  with  them  except  hand-baggage,  I 
preferred  to  stick  by  the  ship,  and  devote  the  time  to  getting  my  bicycle  in 
trim  for  immediate  service,  after  I  had  superintended  the  hoisting  bf  it  from 
the  hold,  and  had  convinced  the  custom-house  ofiicer  that  he  might  properly 
grant  me  the  privilege  of  riding  it  directly  away  from  the  dock,  instead  of  de- 
laying it  there  until  Monday  morning,  for  tedious  official  formalities. 

Early  in  the  day,  my  companion  became  so  exhilarated  at  the  sight  of  the 
cedar-covered  shores  (the  smoothness  of  whose  roads  seemed  to  his  mind*s 
eye  doubly  attractive,  in  contrast  to  the  roughness  of  the  sea,  which  had 
given  him  two  days  of  wretchedness),  that  he  was  almost  ready  to  lay  violent 
hands  on  one  of  the  under-officers  of  the  ship  for  declaring,  peremptorily, 
that,  as  the  disembarkation  of  the  bicycles  on  Sunday  was  quite  out  of  the 
question,  all  thoughts  of  indulgence  in  wheeling  must  be  postponed  until  the 
morrow.  His  indignant  sorrow  over  this  prospective  calamity  was  assuaged 
somewhat  by  my  quiet  assertion  that  I  would  guarantee  the  prompt  patting 
ashore  of  the  wheels,  all  under-officers  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding ;  and. 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA. 


359 


as  the  hoars  wore  on,  the  mcreasing  warmth  of  the  atmosphere  soothed  his 
excitement  into  sleepiness  and  languor,  so  that,  when  the  time  for  disembark- 
.ing  really  came,  he  decided  that  it  was  the  part  of  prudence  to  devote  a  solid 
night's  rest  to  overcoming  the  effects  of  sea-sickness,  before  venturing  to 
entrust  his  weary  frame  to  the  saddle  at  all.  Alone,  therefore,  at  a  quarter- 
past  five  o'clock,  I  pushed  my  wheel  down  the  gangway  and  through  the  ad- 
miring throng  of  two  hundred  well-dressed  Bermudians,  white  and  black,  and 
forthwith  started  off  for  a  ride  of  a  dozen  miles  to  St.  George's,  in  front  of 
whose  hotel  I  dismounted  at  half-past  seven  o'clock. 

No  inns  or  public  houses  are  to  be  found  between  these  two  main  towns, 
though  there  are  several  little  post-office  groceries  where  the  traveler  may 
refresh  himself  with  fruits,  confectionery,  crackers  and  cheese,  and  bottled 
sarsaparilla.  I  believe,  however,  that  a  regular  "  American  hotel "  is  soon  to 
be  erected  at  the  Flatts,  which  is  the  first  objective  point  on  the  route,  being 
a  little  collection  of  houses  at  the  little  bridge  (four  miles  from  Hamilton) 
that  crosses  the  inlet  into  Harrington  Sound.  This  is  described  as  "  a  charm- 
ing inland  sea,  bordered  by  high  cliffs,  alternated  by  smooth  beaches  and 
tables  of  coral  rock,"  and  its  dimensions  may  be  generally  indicated  as  those 
of  an  irregular  oval,  fully  a  mile  broad  and  nearly  two  miles  long.  The 
second  objective  point  is  the  Causeway,  which  is  a  mile  long,^K)r,  rather, 
nearly  two  miles  long,  if  it  be  considered  as  extending  to  the  Causeway  Cot- 
tage, beyond  the  iron  swing-bridge,  which  is  six  miles  from  the  Flatts,  and  a 
mile-and-a-hal£  from  St.  George's.  Three  main  roads  from  Hamilton— called 
the  North,  the  Middle,  and  the  South— converge  at  the  Flatts;  and  two  of  them 
continue  thence  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Sound  and  meet  at  the  Causeway, 
whence  a  single  road  runs  to  St.  George's.  The  North  road,  which  a  local 
guide  calls  *^  the  most  airy  and  easy  of  the  three,"  was  the  one  which  I  first 
made  trial  of,  when  I  wheeled'  away  from  the  ship,  that  Sunday  afternoon. 
Facing  the  west,  I  turned  up  hill  to  the  right,  and  again  to  the  right,  passing 
on  my  left  the  terraces  in  front  of  the  Hamilton  Hotel ;  then  turning  left  and 
climbing  Mount  Langton  through  a  deep  cut,  whence  I  descended  through 
an  avenue  of  cedars  to  the  north  shore,  one  mile  from  the  dock.  Thence,  for 
three  miles  to  the  Flatts,  I  gayly  glided  along  the  shore,  looking  out  all  the 
while  over  the  intensely  blue  ocean,  which  shone  with  unwonted  brilliancy 
beneath  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  The  North  road,  which  turns  to  the  left 
across  the  bridge  at  the  Flatts,  continues  to  overlook  the  ocean,  for  two  miles 
farther ;  but  I  preferred  to  keep  directly  on  by  what  from  that  point  is  called 
the  South  road,  which  skirts  Harrington  Sound  for  a  similar  distance,  and 
then,  making  two  successive  turns  to  the  right,  extends  to  the  Causeway. 
The  left-hand  road  at  both  of  these  turns  leads  over  to  the  north  shore,  but 
the  second  is  much  the  better  one  to  travel.  There  is^M  a  more  direct 
road,  of  rougher  surface,  leading  from  the  Sound  to  th^yl^^k^v.  The  ride 
across  this — ^with  green  waters  upon  one  side,  a]i4^l''  'J^^h^  '^  ^  other, 
and  the  hues  of  both  varying  in  intensity  acearfHl^*    ^^|     nu   ^^ '  'x>8i- 


360  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tion  of  ihe  coral  reeEs — \%  always  a  very  pleasant  one ;  but  my  first  ride  there, 
in  the  brilliantly  moonlit  solitude  of  my  first  night  ashore,  seemed  particularly 
strange  and  exhilarating.  The  twelve-mile  course,  which  I  traversed  that 
first  night,  may  be  wheeled  without  dismouni,  in  both  directions.  I  think  the 
same  ma.y  be  said  of  the  north  route  around  the  Sound ;  but,  though  I  rode 
over  it  in  both  directions,  I  cannot  remember  whether  1  conquered  all  the 
hills  or  not. 

The  South  road  is  reached  at  a  mile  from  the  dock  in  Hamilton,  by  going 
southeasterly  to  the  he^  of  the  harbor  and  then  curving  south.  Meanwhile 
the  celebrated  row  of  five  cabbage-palm  trees,  whose  stately  trunks  look  like 
chiseled  columns  of  stone,  have  been  passed  on  the  right  Along  the  south 
shore,  though  not  in  sight  of  the  water,  one  goes  in  an  easterly  direction, 
through  a  marshy  and  wooded  country,  for  nearly  two  miles,  and  then  turns 
left  at  the  fork  in  the  road  by  the  Wesleyan  chapel,  climbing  up  a  long,  rough 
hill,  and  then  making  a  sharp  descent  to  the  Flatts  ;  or  he  may  keep  straight 
on  at  the  fork  and  turn  off  for  the  Flails  at  St.  Mark's  church ;  or  he  may 
continue  past  the  church  up  Knapton  Hill,  and  descend  to  the  main  road  at  a 
point  near  the  Devil's  Hole,  at  Che  southeast  corner  of  Harrington  Sound, — 
the  distance  to  here  from  the  fork  being  two  miles,  much  of  which  is  sandy 
and  unridabte.  Just  beyond  here  a  road  branches  off  to  the  right  directly 
for  Tuckertown ;  but  I,  in  seeking  that  place,  kept  to  the  main  road  for  a 
mile-and-a-quarler  beyond  the  Devil's  Hole  (Ihjs  is  1  walled  enclosure  on  the 
right,  guarded  by  broken  bottles,  where  a  shilling  fee  is  extracted  from  each 
visitor  who  wishes  to  gaze  on  the  great  fish,  swimming  lazily  in  the  transpar- 
ent depths  of  Ihe  bole) ;  and  then,  at  the  top  of  an  incline,  I  turned  to  the 
right,  and  went  a  half-mile  to  meet  the  direct  road  before  mentioned,  on  which 
I  then  wheeled  a  mile,  or  till  I  reached  its  terminus,  at  the  wharf  in  Tucker- 
town. As  there  was  nothing  to  the  town  except  this  little  wooden  wharf,  I 
soon  turned  about,  and  walked  up  to  the  signal  station,  whence  some  interest- 
ing views  were  to  be  had.  Rejoining  my  wheel  at  the  foot  of  this  hill,  [ 
drove  it  westward  for  a  mile  over  a  neglected  military  road,  which  would  have 
brought  mc  into  the  South  road  again,  near  St,  Mark's  church,  if  I  had  been 
willing  to  plod  about  two  miles  farther,  over  its  rough  stones.  I  preferred, 
however,  to  go  back  to  St.  George's,  for  my  dinner,  by  the  route  already  de- 
scribed, a  distance  of  eight  miles.  The  process  of  exploring  Fort  Albert,  in 
the  last-named  town,  the  public  garden  (where  flourishes  a  date-palm  130 
years  old),  and  "  the  point,"  required  tne  to  test  two  miles  more  of  excellent 
roadway ;  but  when  I  turned  up  hill  to  the  right,  just  before  reaching  the 
Causeway  Cottage,  and  explored 
leading  towards  the  north  shore, 
that  route  would  hardly  be  wort! 
tion,  of  which  I  did  not  feel  confi. 

The  Middle  road  from  Hami 
either  of  the  other  two;  and,  th< 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA,  361 

because  of  the  smoothness  of  its  surface,  while  the  overhanging  cedars  give  it 
a  specially  secluded  character,  and  supply  a  grateful  shade  from  the  glare  of 
the  sun.  Near  the  east  end  of  Hamilton  harbor,  just  before  reaching  the 
line  of  five,  tall  palm-trees,  the  wheelman  must  turn  left  and  ride  up  a  half- 
mile  hill,  from  whose  summit  there  is  a  descent  of  three-quarters  of  a  mile  to 
Christ  church,  whence  he  must  go  up  hill  again,  to  the  northeastward,  for  a 
mile>and-a-quarter,  to  the  little  triangle  where  a  junction  is  made  with  the 
road  leading  from  the  south  shore  down  to  the  Flatts.  Christ  church  is  con- 
nected to  the  north  shore  by  a  direct  road  a  mile  long ;  and  from  the  top  of 
the  hill  that  overlooks  the  five  palm-trees  there  is  a  rather  sandy  cross-road, 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  long,  which  passes  through  the  military  barracks  at 
Prospect,  and  descends  to  the  north  shore  at  a  point  a  half-mile  east  of  where 
the  road  from  Mount  Langton  reaches  the  shore.  From  this  latter  junction, 
the  shore  road  may  be  ridden  westward  for  two  miles  to  its  terminus  at  Span- 
ish Point,  whence  a  return  course  of  about  that  distance  may  be  laid  out, 
without  much  repetition  of  roadway,  to  the  dock  at  Hamilton.  When  about 
half-way  between  the  point  and  the  dock,  a  detour,  which  requires  about  a 
mile  of  wheeling,  may  be  made  to  the  place  called  Fairyland. 

The  first  mile  of  the  route  to  Somerset  is  identical  with  that  gone  over 
in  reaching  the  South  road,  but  a  backward  (westerly)  course  is  then  taken 
along  the  south  side  of  the  harbor,  so  that  the  second  mile  ends  about  oppo- 
site the  starting  point.  At  the  crest  of  a  hill,  a  little  beyond  here,  the 
best  route  makes  an  angle  to  the  left,  and  in  a  few  rods  brings  the  tourist 
to  the  main  road,  by  which  he  can  go  towards  Somerset  (right),  or  turn  back 
towards  Hamilton  (left).  A  narrower,  rougher,  and  hillier  road,  two  miles 
long,  whose  additional  picturesqueness  partly  atones  for  its  difficulties, 
descends  from  the  crest  of  hill  just  mentioned,  and  follows  the  shore  until 
it  finally  turns  off  and  jdins  the  main  road, — its  appearance  at  the  point  of 
junction  being  that  of  a  private  lane.  A  mile  beyond  here  is  Gibbs's  Hill, 
^45  feet  in  height,  from  the  top  of  whose  light-house  (362  feet  above  high 
water),  a  wonderfully  attractive  panoramic  view  may  be  had  of  the  entire 
region.  The  bicycler,  instead  of  attempting  to  traverse  the  road  leading 
up  the  hill  itself,  should  leave  his  wheel  on  the  main  road,  at  the  point 
where  the  telegraph  wires  cross  it,  and  climb  thence  by  a  foot-path  directly  to 
the  summit.  Four  miles  beyond  this  is  Scaur  Hill,  surmounted  by  a  private 
boarding-house,  where  we  secured  a  good  dinner,  as  a  result  of  a  friendly 
warning  that  better  fare  was  obtainable  there  than  at  the  hotel  in  Somerset. 
From  Scaur  Hill,  which  I  managed  to  ride  up,  in  both  directions,  though  the 
effort  made  me  groan,  I  had  a  fine  spin  northward  to  the  public  wharf  and 
tenet  along  theshofCy  past  the  Somerset  House  and  police  station  to  the 
\%  ft  W  '  -vo-and-a-half  miles.    There  is  a  road  extending 

't  island,  for  about  ten  miles,  from  Somerset 

>ilton,  and  it  is  very  nearly  parallel,  at  a  dis- 

Tiile,  to  the  highway  which  we  traversed ; 


361  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

but  it  was  said  to  be  geneiatly  sandy  and  impracticable  for  a  bicycle,  and  so 
we  made  no  attempt  to  explore  it.  In  the  wooded  heights  of  Fainoouot, 
opposite  Hamilton,  is  quite  a  network  of  ridable  roads,  of  whose  intricacies 
I  will  say  nothing  more  than  that  the  bicycler  may  find  much  pleasure  in  dis- 
porting himself  at  hap-hazard  among  them. 

My  cyclometer  tegiateced  142  miles  in  Bermuda,  distributed  as  follows  ; 
Sunday,  iz;  Monday,  33;  Tuesday,  36;  Wednesday,  38;  Thursday,  23.  I 
covered  56  miles  of  roadway  which  was  new  to  me,  and  34  miles  of  the 
same  in  an  opposite  or  new  direction,  leaving  a  remainder  of  52  miles  to  rep- 
resent the  absolute  repetitions.  On  the  forenoon  of  the  second  day,  while 
I  rode  down  to  Hamilton,  to  seek  my  companion,  he  rode  up  to  St.  George's 
by  another  route,  in  search  of  me;  and,  as  we  each  of  us  reversed  the 
operation  in  the  afternoon,  we  slept  in  separate  towns  on  the  second  nighl 
as  well  as  the  first.  On  the  third  night,  I  rejoined  him  at  his  hotel, — the 
day  having  been  spent  by  us  in  separately  exploring  opposite  ends  of  the 
Island, — so  that  the  fourth  day  was  the  only  one  when  we  did  any  wheelii^  in 
company.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  fifth  and  final  day,  he  saw  his  bicycle 
safely  crated  and  stowed  in  the  hold  of  the  "  Orinoco,"  on  which  he  em- 
barked at  nine  o'clock,  while  I  continued  to  wheel  for  four  hours  later  than 
that,  or  till  the  very  moment  when  the  steam-launch  started  off  with  the 
mails,  to  meet  the  ship  at  her  anchor^e  beyond  the  reef  in  Grassy  Bay.  In 
apprehension  of  possible  accident  during  those  final  hours,  1  warned  my  com- 
panion that,  in  case  I  should  fail  to  catch  the  mail-boat,  it  would  be  his  duly 
to  send  back  my  b^gage,  and  as  much  cash  as  he  could  spare,  in  order  to 
keep  mc  comfortable  during  the  fortnight  which  wotild  elapse  before  the 
sailing  of  the  next  homeward  steamer. 

The  narrowness  with  which  I  escaped  such  accident  formed  the  mtet 
exciting  inddeni  of  my  entire  visit ;  for,  by  some  miscalculation  of  distances, 
I  found  myself  on  the  North  shore  road,  at  the  foot  of  Prospect  Hill,  within 
less  than  a  quarter-hour  of  the  time  announced  for  the  steamer's  departure. 
The  route  which  I  took  from  there  to  the  dock  was  measured  by  my  cyclom- 
eter as  two  miles ;  but  I  am  confident  it  was  longer,  for  I  went  around  by 
the  Admiral's  corner,  whereas  the  direct  route  across  the  hill  called  Mount 
T^nirton  (which  I  somehow  failed  to  Drefer)  was  known  as  a  irood  mile-and- 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA. 


363 


or  got  within  a  mile  of  the  dock,  a  sand-rut  gave  me  a  violent  header, — 
the  first  and  last  fall  which  I  had  during  the  visit.    I  picked  up  my  vener- 
able wheel  with  profound  trepidation,  for,  if  the  accident  had  disabled  it  at 
all,  my  last  hope  of  sailing  for  New  York,  that  day,  would  have  disappeared. 
Fortune  favors  the  foolish,  sometimes,  however,  as  well  as  the  brave ;  and  my 
own  folly,  in  taking  so  needless  a  risk,  was  not  fated  to  be  properly  pun- 
ished.   "  No.  234  "  came  up  smiling  from  the  sand ;  and  I,  without  stopping 
to  brush  the  white  coral  dust  from  my  white  flannel  riding  costume,  was 
soon  pushing  its  pedals  harder  than  ever,  in  my  despairing  drive  for  the  dock. 
I  suppose  that  all  touring  wheelmen  have  occasionally,  like  myself,  been 
oppressed  with  remorseful  exasperation  over  their  own  mistaken  choices 
among  possible  alternatives  while  on  the  road ;  but  I  don't  think  I  ever  had 
a  more  contemptuous  opinion  of  my  own  discretion  and  sagacity  as  a  traveler 
than  during  those  last  bitter  moments  of  that  '*  bad  quarter-hour  "  when  the 
tattered  tires  of  my  bicycle  were  pounding  along,  .with  every  atom  of  speed 
which  I  could  impart  to  them,  through  the  glistening  streets  of  "  the  whitest 
city  in  the  world."    All's  well  that  ends  well,  however;  and  though  I  reached 
the  dock  two  minutes  before*  the  appointed  time,  the  mail-boat  didn't  really 
push  o£E  till  twenty  minutes  afterwards.     Life  in  Bermuda  is  a  {natter  ol 
such  infinite  leisure  that  even  the  post-office  people  seem  to  resent  the  tyranny 
of  clocks  and  schedules  1    Even  the  "  Mo-on-dy-ne  "  likes  to  lag,  though  her 
name  means  "  messenger."    I  was  escorted  on  that  final  spin  by  a  young  man 
from  Massachusetts,  a  fellow-voyager  on  the  outward  passage,  who  intended 
to  remain  upon  the  island  for  several  weeks.    I  presume  that  he  would  have 
proved  a  much  faster  rider  than  myself  on  any  ordinary  occasion,  and  perhaps 
he  did  not  now  exert  himself  to  keep  up  with  me.    At  all  events,  he  was  con* 
siderably  in  the  rear  as  we  approached  the  dock,  and,  whether  he  thought  my 
pace  a  swift  one  or  not,  I  can  assure  him  that  he  is  the  only  cycler  who  ever 
competed  with  my  swiftest  pace,  or  ever  saw  me  doing  my  very  best  to  fly 
over  the  ground. 

Ideally  pleasant   weather  favored  my  five  days  on  the  islands;  for 

A  sudden  shower  of  a  few  hours*  duration,  which  worked  no  injury  to  the 

roads,  could  hardly  be  called  an  exception  to  it.    The  mildness  of  the  air 

^cnpted  me  to  sleep  on  deck  in  the  moonlight,  during  the  first  night  of  the  re- 

voyage, — ^though  my  slumber  was  not  profound  after  a  rat  had  once 

it  fay  running  across  my  face.    A  bench  in  the  smoking-room  sup- 

the  second  night,  which  was  a  stormy  one ;  while  the  bitter 

irove  me  to  my  own  proper  state-room,  and  made  its 

the  "  inside  "  position.    This  room  was  an  excep- 

\  man  who  values  "  outer  ventilation  "  as  much 

hoice  "  in  the  ship.    My  misfortune  in  getting 

that  when  I  bought  a  round-trip  ticket,  two 

lost  comfortable  upper-deck  room,  I  as- 

to  me  for  the  return  voyage  also.     A 


364       1^^^  th6usand  miles  on  a  bicycle. 

knowledge  of  my  mistake  may  give  friendly  warning  to  other  tourists  that 
they  should  write  to  the  Bermuda  agents  of  the  line,  to  secure  choice  of  rooms, 
just  as  early  as  the  exact  date  of  the  return  voyage  is  decided  upon.  The 
steamship  company's  service  is  fortnightly  (weekly  in  April,  May,  and  June), 
and  its  charge  for  round-trip  tickets  is  fifty  dollars.  Such  tickets  are  not  lim- 
ited as  to  time ;  but,  if  the  traveler  returns  by  the  same  boat  which  takes  him 
out,  he  need  spend  no  more  than  ten  dollars  upon  the  island,  and  can  thus 
restrict  to  sixty  dollars  the  cost  of  his  ten  da}^'  absence  from  New  York.  I 
know  of  no  other  way  in  which  the  expenditure  of  so  little  time  and  money 
can  "  give  to  the  inhabitants  of  that  city  so  genuine  a  taste  of  '  a  foreign 
atmosphere,'  or  so  good  a  view  of  the  contrasts  which  English  colonial  life 
and  habits  present  to  their  own."  I  adapt  thus  a  previous  remark  of  mine 
as  to  the  advantages  which  a  Bostonian  may  gain  by  a  visit  to  Halifax,  in 
Nova  Scotia,  which  is  more  readily  accessible. 

The  relative  inaccessibility  of  Bermuda — the  penalty  which  most  good 
Americans  must  pay  to  Neptune,  when  the  steamer  plunges  through  the  sea- 
sickening  surges  of  the  Gulf  Stream,  on  the  way  thither — is  the  one  circum- 
stance which  has  kept  it  from  being  overrun  and  spoiled  by  them.  This 
natural  barrier  against  the  excursionist  and  the  pleasure-seeker  is  an  everlast- 
ing one,  and  though  its  power  to  "  keep  out  the  crowd "  will  diminish,  as 
the  knowledge  of  Bermuda's  special  attractions  spreads  more  generally  over 
the  continent,  its  power  will  never  wholly  disappear.  There  will  always  be  a 
large  body  of  American  travelers  whom  no  possible  picture  of  the  beauties  of 
this  ocean  paradise  will  ever  tempt  into  exposing  their  stomachs  to  the 
wrenching  commonly  produced  by  the  cross-currents  and  choppy  seas  of  the 
Gulf  Stream.  Nevertheless,  the  man  who  wishes  to  enjoy  the  pristine  sim- 
plicity of  the  Somers  Islands,  should  visit  them  right  speedily,  and  take  no 
trust  in  the  theory  that  the  discomforts  of  sea-sickness  will  long  prevent  the 
tide  of  American  travel  from  rolling  in  with  sufficient  volume  to  obliterate 
that  simplicity.  Even  while  I  write,  I  feel  there  is  a  possibility  that  our 
Yankee  "  rage  for  improvement "  may  have  put  an  end  to  that  delightfully 
stupid  and  admirably  exasperating  old  custom  of  building  a  gangway  out  to 
the  steamer,  every  time  it  arrives,  and  of  taking  it  to  pieces  every  time  it 
departs  (ensuring  a  long  delay,  on  each  occasion),  instead  of  keeping  the 
same  in  condition  for  immediate  use. 

The  black  people  deserve  a  word  of  commendation  for  the  contrast  which 
their  thrifty  appearance  and  self-respecting  politeness  presents  to  the  looks 
and  manner  of  their  race  upon  the  main-land.  I  am  afraid  they  regard  with 
disdain  these  less  fortunate  ones,  because  of  their  slow  improvement  under  the 
adverse  social  conditions  inherited  from  times  of  slavery ;  conditions  which 
almost  necessarily  render  them  cringing  and  servile  when  poor,  and  insolent 
and  obtrusive  when  they  chance  to  obtain  wealth.  The  Bermuda  blacks,  on 
the  other  hand,  were  the  first  ones  I  ever  saw  who  seemed  sincerely  to  hold 
themselves  "just  as  good  as  white  folks,"  vrithout  making  any  fuss  about  it. 


366  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

milder  island.    So,  too,  it  would  be  quite  in  keeping  with  the  geography 
the  case  to  recommend  that  a  September  wheeling  tourist  through  Ne* 
foundland,  Cape  Breton   and  Nova    Scotia,    should    thence    prolong    \ 
travels  by  taking  steamer  direct  for  the  coral  reefs  of  Bermuda.    Whi' 
ever  route  the  traveler  may  choose,  let  me  advise  him  to  equip  himself  < 
only  with  an  abundance  of  clothing  suitable  for  summer  and  winter,  ^ 
also  with  all  the  attainable  literature  relating  to  the  scene  of  his  visit.    '^ 
old-time  guide  is  the  "  Bermuda  Pocket  Almanac  "   (issued  annually  f^ 
the  office  of  the  Royal  Gazette^  and  costing  half  a  dollar),  which  cont" 
tables  of  roads  and  distances,  amid  numerous    other  statistics,  and  wt 
renders  them  all  intelligible  by  exhibiting  on  its  cover  a  map  of  the  isia 
drawn  upon  a  scale  of  three  miles  to  the  inch.     A  much  larger  and  t> 
clearly  drawn  map,  printed  in  colors,  is  appended  to  Mrs.  Dorr's  rect 
issued  volume,^   which  every   visitor  to  the   islands   should   have  ir 
pocket ;  though  the  littler  map  of  the  "  Almanac "  gives  to  the  wheeln 
completer  showing  of  the  roads. 

A  new  guide-book,'  in  the  field  which  this  ancient  annual  has  hiL 
monopolized,  presents  still  a  third  map, —  larger  than  either  of  the  c 
and  in  many  respects  more  useful  to  the  explorer, —  though  it  fails  tc 
the  road  leading  to  the  Flatts  from  the  Wesleyan  chapel  on  the  south 
and  also  the  road  directly  connecting  Christ  church  with  the  north  sho. 
"  process  "  reproduction  of  the  rude  old  maps  and  pictures  which  wl 
pared,  centuries  ago,  by  order  of  the  immortal  Captain  John  Smith 
was  the  earliest  guide-book-maker  for  this  microscopic  speck  of  the 
world, — is  another  praiseworthy  feature  in  the  work  of  his  latest  i. 
Its  distinctive  value,  however,  consists  in  the  series  of  sixteen 
prints,"  which  have  power  to  give  to  the  mind  of  a  stranger  a  far  bet 
of  the  peculiar  beauties  of  Bermuda,  than  volumes  of  descriptive 
could  afford,  and  which  recall  those  beauties,  with  a  pleasing  degree 
ness,  to  the  mind  of  the  home-returned  visitor.    The  scenes  which 
saw  are  here  preserved  exactly  as  I  saw  them, —  the  author's  visit  h;.     '  '-^ 
ceded  my  own  by  only  a  few  weeks, — for  he  says:    "The  photogra        -* 
taken  by  me,  on  gelatine  dry  plates,  during  the  months  of  Jan 
February,  1884,  and  the  prints  were  made  from  these  negatives  by  t 
Electrotype  Company,"  of  which  he  happens  to  be  the  president    ' 
press  contains  about  all  the  customary,  cut-and-dried  informatio 
casual  tourist  is  supposed  to  need ;   and,  if  such  tourist  be  a  bit    ^  . 
desire  for  lightness  and  portability  will  doubtless  impel  him  tc       .^ 
criticism  that  ''it  contains  too  much  information," — that  if  the 


^  "  Bermuda,  an  Idyl  of  the  Summer  Islands/'  by  Mrs.  Julia  C  R.  Dorr,  i 
price  #1.35  (New  York :  Scribner's  Sons,  1884). 

'  "  Illustrated  Bermuda  Guide,*'  by  James  H.  Stark,  ismo,  pp.  157  (and  adver* 
price  $3.00  (Boston :  Photo-Electrotype  Co.,  1884). 


T  ■  r' 


A.^ 


-"'"■ 


1 


t:..      *- 


s     ^ 


»^i 


Iceland 

\*»»e  dis- 

'^Vored  to 
*^e  "  (Oct. 


368  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  did  not  enclose  my  bicycle  in  a  crate  for  the  homeward  voyage,  but 
merely  bandaged  its  forks  and  backbone  with  cloth  before  lowering  it  into 
the  hold;  and  so  it  was  easily  put  in  order  for  riding,  when  hauled  on  deck 
again,  as  the  "  Orinoco  '*  steamed  up  the  harbor  of  New  York,  in  the  fore 
noon  of  Sunday,  March  16.    In  the  innocence  of  my  heart  I  supposed  that 
'*the  bicycle  b^ing  entitled  to  free  entry  because  of  American  manufacture,' 
I  should  be  allowed  to  mount  it  at  the  dock  and  ride  right  up  home  t 
Washington  Square.    But  the  "  deputy  surveyor  "—as  the  lordly  creature  w: 
called  who  happened  to  be  in  command  of  this  particular  gang  of  custor 
house  mercenaries — ^asserted  his  authority  to  the  contrary;  and,  though  kno\ 
ing  perfectly  well  that  the  machine  vhu  American,  and  that  I  had  embark* 
with  it  from  the  same  dock  only  ten  days  before,  he  ordered  it  to  be  "sent 
the  Public  Stores  for  appraisement."    The  same  order  was  issued  concern - 
the  crated  machine  of  my  companion,  accompanied  by  the  assurance  that 
this  was  of  English  make,  a  duty  of  35  per  cent,  would  certainly  be  le* 
upon  it,  in  spite  of  that  duty  having  once  been  regularly  paid  when  the  bic 
was  first  imported  into  America.    We  sought  out  the  Public  Stores, 
morning,  and  thought  ourselves  singularly  fortunate  in  meeting  there  wit 
affable  official  gentleman,  who  sympathized  with  our  troubles,  because  his 
son  had  been  touring  by  wheel  in  Europe,  and  who  endorsed  our  "  paj 
with  the  request  that  the  "deputy  appraiser,"  to  whose  official  keepii 
bicycles  had  been  consigned,  would  "  make  the  appraisal  informal,"  a 
let  us  take  them  away  without  additional  bother.    When  we  finally  re 
the  presence  of  that  functionary,  however,  after  various  delays  for  th<. 
ing  of  red  tape  at  the  desks  of  several  of  his  underlings,  he  gruffly  sa 
he  should  exercise  no  discretion  in  the  matter,  but  should  formally  ent 
machines  for  the  custom-house,  and  that  the  one  of  English  make  wou 
to  pay  duty.    The  reason  why  he,  like  the  "deputy  surveyor"  on  t! 
refused  to  pass  my  own  bicycle,  which  he  knew  was  "  entitled  to  fre^ 
was  presumably  his  desire  to  force  me  to  employ  a  "  custom-house 
to  attend  to  the  intricate  and  exasperating  formalities  exacted  b} 
house  regulations,  even  in  a  case  of  "free  entry."    The  usually 
theory  of  the  matter  is,  that  these  private  brokers  pay  to  the  go 
officers  a  certain  percentage  of  the  fees  derived  from  each  traveler 
officers  deliver  into  their  hands ;  and  that,  unless  he  directly  bribes 
to  take  a  lenient  view  of  the  law,  they  will  use  the  authority  which 
terpretation  of  it  gives  them  to  revenge  themselves  by  "  sendin.. 
through  the  custom-house."    If  the  traveler  wishes  to  leave  the 
day  of  landing,  such  act  of  the  officer  on  the  dock  simply  forces  t 
ment  of  a  broker,  because  "  the  papers  in  the  case  "  cannot  reach 
house  for  one  or  two  days  afterwards. 

Having  wasted  a  good  share  of  one  forenoon  in  following  m 
through  the  hands  of  a  half-dozen  official  persons,  in  as  many  dill 
of  the  Public  Stores,  only  to  gain  from  the  last  one  the  surly  a.^ 


370  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

negative  to.  all  our  hopes  of  justice, — the  decision  of  Secretary  Sherman  (June 
28,  1878,  on  the  appeal  of  A.  D.  Chandler,  of  Boston,  against  paying,  on  an 
imported  bicycle,  the  45  per  cent,  duty  exacted  against  **  machinery  ")  having 
settled  the  fact  that,  for  customs  purposes,  the  bicycle  must  be  classified  as  a 
"  carriage."    My  companion,  nevertheless,  put  in  his  appeal  to  the  authorities 
at  Washington ;  and  with  a  celerity  which  was  really  wonderful,  in  view  of 
the  usual  slowness  of  official  routine,  secured  their  decision,  of  April  9^  that 
<•  bicycles,  accompanying  a  passenger,  may  be  regarded  as  personal  efEects, 
not  merchandise,  within  the  language  of  the  full  list,  and  therefore  exempt 
from  duty."    Thus  not  only  was  a  remedy  given  for  the  intolerable  injustice 
specially  complained  of  by  my  companion  (of  taxing  a  returning  American  a 
second  time  on  a  wheel  which  had  previously  paid  its  proper  duty),  but  the 
whole  antiquated  scheme  of  restrictions,  which  were  practically  prohibitory  to 
international  touring  on  the  wheel,  was  done  away  with.    Any  traveler  can 
now  bring  his  bicycle  freely  into  the  United  States,  without  regard  to  the  fact 
of  its  American  or  foreign  origin,  and  without  the  expensive  delays  insepara- 
ble from  entry  at  the  custom-house,  even  when  the  entry  is  "  free."    The  offi- 
cer at  the  dock  may  require  the  passenger  to  declare  that  his  bicycle  has  been 
"  in  actual  use,"  and  that  he  does  not  import  it  with  the  intention  of  imme- 
diately selling  it ;  but  they  no  longer  have  the  power  to  prevent  his  mounting 
the  machine  at  the  dock  and  riding  away  to  his  proper  business.    Bribes  and 
brokerage  are  no  longer  necessary. 

Except  for  my  deteimiDation  to  include  a  chapter  of  Bermudian  experiences  in  "  Ten  Thoa- 
sand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle,"  this  triumph  of  justice  and  civilization  might  have  been  postponed  for 
several  years  longer ;  and  I  should  therefore  think  the  chapter  incomplete  if  it  did  not  contain 
a  full  account  of  this  triumph,  and  did  not  urge  every  American  wheelman  who  reads  it  to  cher- 
ish a  grateful  recollection  of  the  honest  judge,  so  recently  dead,  who  brought  this  triumph  about. 
The  late  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  Charles  J.  Folger,  may  well  be  remembered  by  others  on 
account  of  the  squareness  of  his  character  as  manifested  in  decisions  of  greater  popular  im- 
portance ;  but  I  want  wheelmen  specially  to  remember  him  for  that  same  quality  as  manifested 
in  his  righteous  decision  of  "  the  Bermuda  bicycle  case."  I  want  them  to  remember  him  as  a 
man  whose  strong  sense  of  justice  gave  him  the  vision  to  see  through  all  the  sophistries  of  "  prece- 
dent "  and  get  a  firm  grip  on  the  ultimate  truth  (incomprehensible  though  it  be  to  the  underlii^ 
of  the  custom-house)  that,  "  in  this  democratic  government  of  ours,  nothing  is  ever  really  settled 
which  is  not  settled  r<]f A/."  The  names  of  Benjamin  Harris  Brewster,  Attorney-General;  of 
Charles  R.  Skinner,  Congressman  from  New  York,  and  of  T.  B.  Reed,  Congressman  from 
Maine,  also  deserve  all  the  honor  which  this  chapter  of  mine  can  ensure  to  them  in  the  hearts 
of  cyders  for  their  effective  services  in  getting  an  old  wrong  righted.  I  do  not  like  the  political 
party  which  these  gentlemen  belong  to ;  but  I  am  glad  to  bear  testimony  to  their  manliness  in 
recognizing  the  truth  that  the  removal  of  injustice  from  any  dass  of  dtizens  (no  matter  how  few, 
or  young,  or  humble,  or  uninfluential,  they  are  presumed  to  be)  ought  never  to  be  considered  too 
trivial  or  undignified  an  act  for  even  the  highest  officer  of  the  government  to  take  interest  in.  So, 
I  say  again,  "  let  lasting  honor  be  attached  to  the  names  of  the  four  men  who  so  prompdy 
brought  about  the  great  reform ;  who  persuaded  the  United  States  to  cease  playing  the  part  of  a 
cut-throat  and  bully  towards  those  of  her  dtizens  who  might  return  from  wheeling  tours  in  foreign 
lands ;  who  deprived  the  '  deputy  surveyor '  and  the  '  deputy  appraiser '  of  all  further  power  to 
badger  and  torment  me  like  a  criminal,  in  case  it  is  ever  again  my  happy  lot  to  sail  into  pQft«  i 
another  visit  to  '  the  blessed  isles  of  Bermuda.' " 


BULL  RUN,  LURAY  CAVERN  AND  GETTYSBURG.' 

Washington  having  be«n  chosen  as  the  place  for  the  Sflh  annual  meet  of 
the  League,  I  accepted  the  fact  as  an  excuse  for  wheeling  thither  to  be  a 
spectator  of  the  parade.  From  the  personal  part  which  I  had  taken  in  its 
four  previous  ones,  as  rearmost  rider  in  the  ragtag-and-bobtail  division  known 
as  "the  unattached,"  I  felt  entirely  qualified  to  appreciate  the  beauties  of  a 
spectacle  that  "  the  new  rule  "  (which  I  myself  had  urged  the  adoption  of, 
though  ruinous  to  my  last  hope  of  individual  glory]  declared  should  not  be 
disfigured  by  the  presence  of  any  such  variegated  rabble  of  guys  and  gro- 
tesques as  I  had  been  wont  to  risk  my  life  among  at  the  earlier  meets.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  a  sudden  softening  of  the  spine,  on  the  part  of  those  in 
authority,  allowed  this  rule  to  be  "suspended  ";  and  the  customary  "  mob  on 
wheels"  therefore  sauntered  along  in  Indian  file  through  the  broad  roadways 
of  the  Capital.  Hence,  I  was  rather  glad  that  I  reached  it  too  late  to  look 
upon  such  a  sorry  sight,  for  it  might  have  exasperated  me  to  the  pitch  of 
desperation.  Here,  in  the  single  "show  city"  which  America  can  boast  of,  on 
magnificent  avenues  of  asphalt,  where  24  wheelmen  could  ride  abreast,  and 
where  the  smallest  "  company  fronts  "  allowable  for  parade  should  be  files  of 
16  or  IX  or  3,  a  long-drawn-out  column  of  ill-arranged  and  parti-colored 
paraders  straggled  through  the  streets,  by  twos  and  fours  (May  10,  1884), 
under  pretense  of  proclaiming  "  the  dignity  and  power  of  the  League."  Such 
was  the  sad  truth  that  I  gathered  from  beneath  the  florid  rhetoric  and  lavish 
laudation  with  which  the  historians  of  the  day  sought  to  conceal  the  League's 
failure  to  improve  this  first  great  opportunity  ever  offered  In  America  for  a 
really  impressive  and  inspiring  display  of  spectacular  wheelmanship. 

It  was,  in  fact,  just  about  as  bad  a  show  as  that  which  had  been  given, 
three  years  earlier,  in  the  badly-policed  lanes  of  the  little  New  England 
capital,  Boston.  I  remember  my  rage,  on  that  occasion,  at  the  utter  lack  of 
any  efficient  police  protection  for  the  wheelmen's  procession,  against  the  dis- 
'1  entirely  orderly  and  good-natured  crowd  of  lookers-on ; 

"(Oct. 
hurling 

1  quiet 


372  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  most  obnoxious  of  their  rascally  assailants.  But  however  small  might  be 
my  reasonable  expectation,  as  a  Massachusetts  man,  of  seeing  either  safety  or 
splendor  characterize  a  street  show  in  an  Irish  sea-coast  settlement  like  Bos- 
ton, I  certainly  did  cherish  great  hopes,  as  an  American,  that  our  really 
magnificent  National  Capital  might  inspire  the  League  to  make  there  one 
thoroughly  creditable  public  display  of  itself.  Fortune,  therefore,  was  kind, 
in  so  delaying  my  advance,  as  to  hide  the  sad  reality  from  my  actual  vision. 
Embittered  as  I  then  was  by  a  four  months'  steady  struggle  with  the  prelimi- 
nary subscription-list  of  this  book,  my  shattered  nerves  might  have  given 
way  to  the  strain  of  disappointment  in  seeing  the  noble  streets  of  Washing- 
ton belittled  by  this  pitiful  parade  of  the  customary,  Indian-file,  no-two-coats- 
alike  "  mob  on  wheels."  The  market  rate  of  dynamite  being  "  only  62  cents 
a  pound,"  I  might  have  decided  (in  a  fit  of  emotional  insanity,  when  thus  un- 
nerved) to  blot  out  the  whole  wretched  business, — or  at  least  the  "staff 
officers,"  who  seemed  chiefly  responsible  for  it,  as  the  ostensible  ring-leaders 
of  the  mob.  So,  it  was  a  blessing  to  all  concerned  that  my  bicycle  didn't 
bear  me  into  sighting  distance  of  the  big  white  dome,  until  long  after  the 
League's  "  fifth  annual  mob  "  had  been  dispersed. 

My  two  days'  ride  from  New  York  to  Philadelphia,  100  m.,  which  raised 
the  mileage  of  my  new  machine  (straightaway  from  Hartford)  to  just  "  234," 
has  been  already  reported  on  p.  172.  Next  morning.  May  19, 1  rode  from  the 
Bingham  House  along  the  brick-shaped  stone  blocks  of  Market  st.,  i  J  m.  w., 
to  the  bridge.  An  eighth  of  a  m.  beyond  that,  just  opposite  the  r.  r.  station. 
Woodward  av.  branches  off  to  the  1.,  and  I  tried  its  sidewalk  flags  i  m.  and 
then  1. 1.  at  the  cemetery  comer.  After  about  i  m.  of  off-and-on,  I  struck  a 
yellow  clay  road  and  went  without  stop,  spite  of  hills,  to  the  Buttonwood 
House  at  Darby,  3  m.  A  planked  horse-car  track  extends  to  this  point  and 
would  probably  be  ridable  in  all  weathers.  A  hilly  pike  whose  mac.  is  worn 
into  ruts  stretches  thence  to  Chester,  6  m.,  and  the  Pennsylvania  Military 
Academy  surmounts  a  hill  on  the  r.,  as  one  enters  the  town.  My  route, 
which  a  local  wheelman  recommended,  led  up  Seventh  st.  i  m.,  then  1.  through 
Curling  on  Belgian  blocks  to  Second,  then  up  this  for  i  m.  or  more,  then  t.  r. 
back  to  the  pike,  near  a  mill  at  Fourth.  Less  than  3  m.  beyond  here,  at  1.30 
p.  M.,  I  for  the  first  time  wheeled  into  the  little  State  of  Delaware, — ^^  the 
line  "  being  marked  by  a  cedar  stump  on  the  r.  Following  this  were  a  series 
of  hills,  tiresome  wheeling,  whether  up  or  down,  and  one  of  them  i  m.  long, 
— relieved  by  fine  views  of  the  Delaware  river  and  ships  sailing  under  full 
canvas.  I  crossed  the  Brand3rwine  into  Wilmington,  just  7  m.  after  entering 
the  State,  and  halted  ^  h.  at  a  restaurant  on  its  main  street,  \  m.  beyond. 
Newport,  3^m.,  was  reached  at  5.10,  and  the  Deer  Park  Hotel  in  Newark, 
9  m.,  at  7.20, — ^making  my  day's  record  38}  m.  The  hotel  people  said  that 
the  road  to  Elkton  and  Perry ville  (Havre  de  Grace)  was  level  but  very  sandy, 
and  advised  me  to  try  the  hillier  route,  and  cross  the  Susquehanna  by  itn\ 
at  Port  Deposit,  5  or  6  m.  above  the  r.  r.  bridge  connecting  Havre  de  Grace 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG.    373 

with  Perryville.  As  a  result  of  a  heavy  night's  rain,  I  found,  as  soon  as  I  got 
beyond  the  town  limits, — perhaps  i  m.  from  the  hotel, — that  the  clay  roads 
had  changed  to  mud,  which  was  not  ridable  and  was  hardly  walkable,  on  ac- 
count of  the  clogging  in  the  forks.  Half-way  up  a  big  hill,  a  little  more  than 
i^m.  after  starting,  I  crossed  into  Maryland,— ending  thus  a  Delaware  trail 
of  21}  m., — and  I  reached  the  top  of  another  long  hill  at  8  o'clock,  3  m.  and 
\\  h.  from  the  start.  A  store  and  one  or  two  other  houses  stood  here,  and  I 
imbibed  a  quart  of  milk,  in  lack  of  any  other  attainable  breakfast.  Three  h. 
later,  I  had  progressed  only  7  m.  more,  and  I  lay  on  my  back  on  a  bridge, 
thoroughly  tired  from  the  long  dragging  of  my  wheel  through  the  clay.  Brick 
Church,  i}  m.,  was  reached  at  noon,  and  x  h.  spent  there  for  dinner  at  its  poor 
little  tavern.  My  walking  amounted  to  about  7  m.  to  this  point,  but  beyond  it 
the  roads  were  dryer  and  more  down-grade, — so  that  I  walked  less  and  reached 
Port  Deposit,  8^  m.,  in  3  h.,  entering  it  by  a  long  and  very  steep  descent. 
Disembarking  from  the  ferry  boat,  on  s.  side  of  the  Susquehanna,  at  4.35, 

I  followed  a  winding  course  up  the  ravine  to  1.,  and  then,  after  passing  a 
bridge  about  i  m.  out,  t.  r.  The  road  gradually  improved  as  I  drew  near  a 
cross-roads  called  Level,  5  m.  from  the  river,  at  6  o'clock,  where  I  1. 1.  with 
the  telegraph  poles,  and  enjoyed,  on  a  level  of  i  m.  or  so,  my  first  good  riding 
of  the  day.  At  Churchville,  3}  m.,  I  stopped  for  an  orange,  and  found  my 
watch  had  stopped  also.  The  time  was  about  7 ;  and  I  then  went  without 
halt  along  a  good  dirt  road  for  5}  m.  to  Bel  Air,  at  7.45.  There  1 1.  r.,  and 
reached  the  hotel,  after  riding  a  few  rods  on  r.  sidewalk ;  but,  if  I  had  1. 1.,  I 
should  have  even  more  quickly  reached  the  head  of  the  pike  leading  to  Balti- 
more. Down  this  winding  way  of  fairly  good  mac  I  sped  at  7  o'clock,  next 
morning,  and  climbed  some  rather  stiff  hills  before  resting  \  h.,  at  a  point 
3  m.  out,  to  oil  and  polish  my  wheel.  I  didn't  leave  the  saddle  again  for 
1}  h.,  when  I  was  flung  out  of  it,  13  m.  beyond,  by  carelessly  riding  among  some 
fresh  lumps  of  stone  on  the  edge  of  the  road.  (**  Number  234,  Jr.,"  thus  suf- 
fered its  first  fall,  324  m.  from  the  start  at  Hartford,  and  the  r.  handle-bar  was 
so  badly  bent  that  my  leg  grazed  against  it  at  every  revolution  of  the  wheel 
for  the  next  50  m.  to  Washington.  I  did  not  have  a  second  fall  until  a  fort- 
night later,  on  the  last  day  of  my  tour,  51 1  m.  beyond ;  see  p.  173.)  My  third  stop 
was  made  in  5^  m.,  when  I  reached  the  cobble  stones  in  the  outskirts  of  Balti- 
more, at  1045;  ^^^  ^^^  22  m,  to  this  point  might  have  been  done  without 
dismount.  Turning  r.  along  Boundary  av.  to  Fillmore  St.,  I  went  1.  on  its 
tlag-stone  sidewalks  to  the  junction  of  Baltimore  and  Frederick  sts.,  4  m.,  and 
thence  followed  alongside  the  horse-car  track  to  Catonsville,  4  m.  At  Ellicott 
^^^>  4i  ™*  0°  (see  p.  349),  I  halted  \  h.  for  lunch,  and  then,  between  2.20  and 
240^  wheeled  up  a  hill  1}  m.  long,  except  its  steepest  pitch  of  two  rods,  at 
about  the  middle  point.    The  course  beyond  proved  continuously  hilly ;  and 

I I  r.  at  a  cross-roads  on  a  hill-top,  and  at  a^c  reached  a  cross-roads  store 
called  Clarksville,  9  m.  from  £.  C.  The  n||^^B|^ ended  at  a  certain  private 
house  in  the  hamlet  of  Ashton,  ^\iiat^Jlf^^^^w\%i  had  told  me  it  would 


374 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


be  possible  to  procure  supper;  and  though  I  covered  this  distance  in  i  h.,and 
probably  rode  \  of  it,  because  of  down-grades,  it  was  the  poorest  stretch  of 
the  day,  and  its  abundant  sand  would  have  forced  me  to  walk  nearly  all  of  it, 
had  I  been  faced  in  the  other  direction.    Starting  from  A.  at  6.30,  I  rode 
without  stop  till  7.55,  nearly  10  m. ;   and  then,  in  the  thickening  darkness 
walked  most  of  the  2  m.  to  Sligo,  at  8.35.    My  Maryland  trail  of  95  m.  ended 
\  m.  beyond  here  when  I  crossed  into  the  District  of  Columbia;  and,  as  the 
road  grew  very  smooth,  I  ventured  again  into  the  saddle  and  rode  almost 
continuously  for  3  m.  to  the  Boundary  av.  of  Washington,  at  9.45.    Thenc 
along  the  gas  lighted  asphalt  of  Ninth  and  H  sts.  to  Twentieth,  \\xvi 
where  I  found  my  clean  clothes  awaiting  me  at  10.15.    My  day's  record  w< 
65}  m.,  as  compared  to  35  m.  of  the  previous  day ;  and  my  5  days*  ride  frt 
N.  Y.  (Hoboken  Ferry)  to  W.  measured  just  240  m. 

The  bright  sunshine  and  hot  air  of  that  final  day  were  tempered  soi 
what  by  a  gentle  breeze,  which  was  generally  in  my  face;  but  the  weather 
the  next  3  days,  while  I  tarried  in  Washington,  was  extremely  hot  and  sti. 
with  heavy  evening  showers  which  gave  no  life  to  the  atmosphere.    TI. 
m.  which  I  registered  during  that  visit  probably  represented  15  m.  of 
road,  15  m.  of  new-direction  riding,  and  13  m.  of  repetitions;  and  I  wa> 
prised  on  the  evening  of  the  first  day,  when  I  took  my  first  look  at  I^ 
cyclometer,  whose  action  had  hitherto  given  me  no  reason  for  distrust,  t 
only  7 J  m.  recorded,  though  I  vaguely  believed  that  I  had  been  jogging' 
the  asphalt  for  2  or  3  h.  altogether.     For  the  next  600  m.,  however,  it  ^ 
to  run  accurately,  until  it  stuck  at  the  1,000  m.  point,  as  described  on 
At  4.30  A.  M.  of  May  25,  just  before  daybreak,  and  after  less  than  6  h.  o 

1  left  the  St.  Marc  Hotel,  which  had  given  me  pleasant  shelter  for  3  (< 
nights,  and  began  a  tiresome  journey  of  48  m.,  which  ended  about  0 
the  Warren  Green  Hotel  in  Warrenton.     My  real  start  was  made  at 
the  house  of  the  President  of  the  Washington  Cycle  Club,  1}  m. 
hotel,  where,  after  rousing  him  from  slumber,  I  had  a  chance  to  mui 
crackers  and  cheese,  moistened  with  oranges,  before  my  escort  gave 
to  mount.    We  crossed  Georgetown  Bridge,  into  Virginia,  2}  m.,  a- 
at  once  t.  r.  and  climbed  hills  pretty  steadily,  on  winding  and  d 
usually  ridable  roads,  till  we  reached  the  brick  house  in  Falls  Chi. 

at  6.55,  and  halted  \  h.  for  some  milk.     Fairfax  Court  House, 
reached  in  2  h. ;  and,  while  my  comrade  arranged  to  get  some  brc: 
before  starting  backward  for  Alexandria,  I  pushed  on  alone  : 
reached  Centerville,  7  m.,  in  2  h.    This  was  approached  by  a  roi 
long,  from  whose  top  (along  which  stretched  a  line  of  the  earthv 
up  in  war  time)  I  got  my  first  sight  of  the  Blue  Ridge.    On  t' 
twisted  to  the  r.,  and  then  soon  again  to  the  1.,  whence  the  old  ] 
bee  line  to  Warrenton.    Rotten  red-sandstone,  of  which  an 
might  easily  be  made,  is  abundant,  all  along  here ;  and  I  found 

2  m.,  to  the  bridge  over  Cub  Run,  which  I  reached  at  1.30, — i 


378  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

because  of  recent  rains,  and  it  was  6  r.  m.  when  we  left  it  and  crossed  the  long  bridge  to 
Columbia,  43  m.,  whence  we  went,  after  supper,  to  Lancaster,  ix  m.  Wood's  road-book  says 
'  the  tow-path  is  good  almost  the  entire  distance  to  H.  de  G.  and  wide  enough  for  two  carriaiges 
abreast ';  but  there  are  in  fact  only  a  very  few  places  Where  teams  can  pass  each  other  in  safety,  and 
even  a  wheelman  generally  has  to  dismount  to  let  an  ordinary  team  go  by.  In  some  places  th« 
path  is  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  where  the  cycler  rides  within  i8  in.  of  the  edge,  so  that  a  false 
move  would  send  him  shooting  into  space.  The  novelty  of  this  danger,  and  the  fine  scenery,  made 
the  experience  a  pleasant  one,  though  the  thermometer  stood  at  1040,  when  we  rested  x  h.  for  din- 
ner at  McCalPs  Ferry  House,  20  m.  from  the  start.  The  most  refreshing  ride  of  our  tour  was  the 
last  20  m.  of  our  last  day,  Paoli  to  Phila.,  when  our  total  was  60^  m.  A  sprained  wrist,  when 
5  m.  from  L.,  caused  us  to  take  train  at  Bird-in-Hand,  but  we  alighted  again,  two  stations  be- 
yond, and  then<»  took  a  hot  pace  to  Paoli,  at  x  o'clock.  We  both  rode  54  in.  Standard  Colum- 
bias  (53  lbs.),  and  are  satisfied  that  the  registry  of  Lakin  cyclometer  (514^  m.  for  the  14  days) 
was  perfectly  accurate.  Our  repetitions  of  roadway  were  mostly  confined  to  the  146  m.  regis- 
tered while  at  Washington.  As  for  previous  record,  I  have  not  kept  a  cyclometer  from  the 
first,  but  think  I  may  have  done  about  3,000  m.  each  season  since  I  began,  in  '83.  My  longest 
ride  then  was  to  Hartford  and  back;  but  in  '84  I  rode  to  New  Haven  with  my  brother  (two 
months  after  his  learning),  and  to  Phila.  and  back  to  N.  Y.,  whence  I  proceeded  alone  to  Troy, 
x6o  m.  in  3  days,  in  spite  of  poor  roads ;  and  kept  on  through  Grafton,  over  the  mountain,  to 
Greenfield,  whence  I  pushed  home  to  S.  in  4}  h.  I  also  wheeled  from  S.  to  Lake  Pleasant 
(beyond  G.)  and  back  in  one  day,  finding  fair  roads  except  for  the  7  m.  nearest  the  lake.  My 
too  m.  run  to  Boston  that  same  autumn  has  already  been  mentioned  (p.  1x4).  I  once  wheeled 
19  m.  in  80  min.  on  the  road  without  dismount,  though  I  never  yet  tried  to  see  how  long  a  stay 
I  could  make  in  the  saddle."  To  these  statistics  from  Mr.  Eldred,  Mr.  Sawtell  adds  the  follow- 
ing :  "  I  bought  my  first  wheel  in  the  spring  of  '84,  having  perhaps  ridden  100  m.  previously. 
My  only  long  trip  besides  the  recent  one  was  300  m.,  through  Worcester,  Lowell,  Boston  amd 
Providence.  As  I  have  ridden  steadDy  for  two  seasons,  to  and  from  my  work  in  a  furnishing 
store,  I  think  it  would  be  safe  to  set  my  mileage  at  3,000." 

The  pastor  of  the  First  English  Lutheran  Church  at  Columbia,  Pa.,  W.  P.  Evans,  writea : 
"  The  best  run  hereabouts  is  down  the  tide-water  tow-path,  through  some  very  beautiful  scenery 
along  the  Susquehanna,  to  the  river's  mouth,  48  m.  The  25  m.  of  this  which  I  have  ridden  is 
certainly  worthy  of  a  description  in  your  book.  My  total  mileage  is  nearly  3,000,  and  represents 
touring,  daily  exercising,  and  somewhat  of  pastoral  work.  My  longest  single  tour  was  from 
Cooperstown  to  Albany  and  Rhinebeck  and  return."  The  date  of  these  words  was  Jan.  30, 
'84 ;  but  in  August  following  the  writer  accompanied  his  friend.  Rev.  S.  Stall,  for  the  greater 
part  of  a  tour  of  590  m.,  extending  through  Phila.,  N.  Y.,  Albany,  Round  Lake,  Saratoga, 
Sharon  Springs,  Cooperstown,  Port*  Jervis,  and  Del.  Water  Gap  to  Easton ;  and  in  August, 
'85,  he  took  part  in  the  "  clerical  wheelmen's  tour,"  devised  by  Mr.  S.,  and  described  on  p.  333. 

There  was  no  sunshine,  next  day,  but  the  atmosphere  was  hot  and  sticky, 
with  occasional  light,  drizzly  showers.  Finishing  breakfast  at  9, 1  devoted  2 
h.  to  polishing  up  my  wheel,  and  getting  the  cyclometer  into  working  order. 
I  turned  the  hands  along  i  m.,  to  represent  the  probable  distance  traversed 
after  the  mud  clogged  it.  Starting  at  2  P.  M.,  in  the  midst  of  an  admiring 
crowd,  who  had  come  to  attend  the  opening  day  of  court,  I  found,  in  the 
course  of  a  few  m.,  several  hills  which  had  to  be  walked,  and  little  water- 
courses, edged  with  mud,  which  gave  considerable  trouble.  Then  I  sat  down 
beside  a  broad  expanse  of  reddish  water,  which  reached  nearly  to  the  bellies 
of  the  horses  that  were  ridden  through  it ;  and  I  smiled  sadly  when  the  riders 
assured  me  that  two  other  equally  bad  "  fords  "  were  to  be  found  within  \  m., 
on  account  of  the  twisting  of  the  same  creek  across  the  road.    Finally,  a 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG,    379 

farmer's  cart,  laden  with  sacks  of  meal  and  flour,  came  along ;  and  I  clam- 
bered on  top  of  the  same,  and,  after  \  m.  of 'the  most  tiresome  jolting  conceiv- 
able, disembarked  on  the  further  side  of  the  third  ford.  I  ought  to  have 
stuck  to  the  cart  for  a  few  rods  further,  because  I  was  forced  almost  imme- 
diately to  drag  the  bicycle  through  three  desperate  mud  holes.  Crossing  the 
iron  bridge  over  the  Rappahannock,  at  a  store  and  p.  o.  called  Waterloo,  6}  m. 
from  the  start,  I  found  the  road  so  improved  as  to  be  almost  continuously 
ridable,  and  I  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  where  stands  the  store  of  Amosville, 
5}  m.,  at  5.30.  The  prospects  of  finding  a  lodging-place  further  on  being 
very  dubious,  I  accepted  the  proprietor's  invitation,  and  rode  back  to  his 
house,  half-way  up  the  hill,  for  the  night.  The  bearings  of  my  right  pedal 
having  been  jarred  full  of  flour  by  \  m.  of  jolting  on  the  sacks,  I  improved  the 
occasion  to  clean  it,  and  did  so  successfully ;  though  I  was  frightened  at  first, 
when  the  22  steel  balls  rattled  out  on  the  floor,  for  I  had  supposed  they  were 
confined  in  a  collar,  and  I  doubted  my  ability  to  replace  them  properly.  A 
notable  feature  on  this  afternoon's  road  were  the  clumsy,  canvas-topped  wag- 
ons, drawn  by  4,  6  or  8  horses  or  mules,  with  big  bells  jangling  above  their 
necks,  and  red  tassels  attached  for  style.  Their  negro  drivers,  as  well  a^ 
other  stray  specimens  of  humanity  who  were  met,  always  uttered  loud  shrieks 
of  laughter,  whenever  they  saw  me  mount  the  bicycle. 

My  next  day's  ride  of  34}  m.  led  over  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  ended  at  6.30 
p.  M.  at  the  famous  Luray  Inn.  The  rain  storm  which  had  raged  during  the 
night  made  the  roads  heavy  when  I  started  at  7.15 ;  but  all  ill-effects  had  van- 
ished before  I  reached  Gaines's  cross-roads,  6  m.,  and  1. 1.  at  8.35.  Washing- 
ton, the  c.  h.  town  next  on  the  road  (5}  m.  in  \\  h.),  is  called  "  Little,"  to 
distinguish  it  from  the  Capital ;  and  before  getting  to  it  I  was  forced  to  cross 
a  wide  stream  on  a  log-and-plank  bridge,  whose  ends  were  rather  diflicult  of 
access.  A  similar  experience  was  had  when  entering  Sperryville,  6  m.  (p. 
352),  though  that  bridge  was  shorter ;  and  in  each  case  I  trundled  the  bicycle 
along  the  log,  wheelbarrow-fashion,  without  accident.  The  owner  of  the  hotel 
in  W.  was  "one  of  Mosby's  men"j  and  while  I  rested  there  for  ijh.,  and 
imbibed  a  quart  or  more  of  milk,  he  entertained  me,  in  a  very  good-natured 
way,  with  reminiscences  of  his  boyish  escapades  as  a  trooper.  I  reached  the 
hotel  in  S.,  in  1}  h.,  at  I  o'clock,  and  got  an  excellent  dinner  there,  including 
some  very  toothsome  wild  strawberries,  whereof  the  landlord  remarked  that 
he  had  just  bought  6  quarts  for  75  cents  from  a  casual  mountaineer.  I  blessed 
the  man's  industry,  and  regretted  its  scant  reward ;  for,  if  better  berries  than 
these  were  ever  created,  it  had  not  been  the  luck  of  my  palate  to  be  tickled 
with  them.  The  fog  or  mist,  which  had  been  obscuring  the  mountain-tops 
during  the  forenoon,  produced  a  sharp  shower  while  I  sat  at  dinner ;  but  the 
sun  shone  again  at  2  o'clock,  when  I  started  on  the  up-grade  of  the  Blue 
Ridge.  It  was  mostly  ridable  for  4  m.  (i  h.),  to  a  point  where  a  U.  S.  mail- 
carrier,  who  had  been  riding  alongside  me,  1. 1.  into  a  rough,  short-cut  path 
through  the  woods,  while  I  continued  along  the  main  road,  generally  on  foot. 


380  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

winding  around  towards  the  summit  of  the  gap  (3}  m.  in  i^  h.),  where  this 
solitary  horseman  was  awaiting  me. 

This  highest  place  in  the  road  is  opposite  a  peak  called  Mary's  rock, 
from  which  a  wonderfully  wide  view  is  said  to  be  attainable;  and  a  picnic 
party  had  just  come  down  from  the  enjoyment  of  it  as  I  passed  along.  Fine 
views  had  tempted  me  to  stop  at  various  points  on  my  upward  road,  which 
was  smooth  enough  to  make  easy  riding  on  the  descent.  My  own  actual  de* 
scent  on  the  w.  was  continuously  ridable  for  4}  m.,  though  I  gave  i  h.  to  it 
and  made  two  brief  halts  on  the  way.  I  stopped  first  i  m.  from  the  summit, 
in  rounding  a  sharp  curve,  where  I  was  a  little  afraid  my  brake  would  not 
hold,  and  where  I  also  wished  to  enjoy  the  view.  The  next  dismount  was 
made  z\  m.  below,  to  avoid  frightening  a  wood-team.  As  to  this,  I  have  a 
mirthful  recollection  of  the  alacrity  with  which  a  brave  passenger  leaped  from 
the  wagon  and  scrambled  up  the  bank  into  the  woods, — "  So  as  to  be  ready  to 
catch  the  horses,"  he  explained  to  me,  apologetically,  as  I  walked  past  those 
not  very  rampant  animals,  whose  driver  kept  them  well  in  hand.  My  third 
dismount,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  i  m.  below,  was  also  because  of  a  team. 

This  down-hill  ride  of  ^\  m.  was  perhaps  the  strangest  and  most  ticklish 
one  in  my  experience.  Though  I  made  it  very  slowly  and  carefully,  I  had  an 
abiding  consciousness  that  "  every  minute  was  gwine  tcr  be  de  nex*,"  as  Uncle 
Remus  says ;  and,  as  the  cold  chills  crept  along  my  spine,  whenever  the  rear 
wheel  lifted  in  air,  I  rather  wondered  at  my  temerity  in  sticking  to  the  sad- 
dle longer.  Even  to  the  least  adventurous  of  mortals,  however,  such  riding, 
"  on  de  brink  ob  ruin,"  has  a  grim  fascination  all  its  own ;  and  it  forced  me 
to  persist  in  the  freak  of  tempting  fickle  Fortune  to  the  uttermost,  so  long  as 
I  did  n*t  really  fall.  I  'm  too  cautious  a  man  ever  to  seek  out  such  a  grade, 
for  the  sake  of  taking  a  risky  ride  down  it ;  but  when  I  found  it,  as  a  section  of 
my  appointed  path,  I  felt  in  duty  bound  to  make  a  trial  of  my  abilities  as  a 
"  hillian,"  even  though  my  hair  stiffened  to  spikiness,  as  one  steep  pitch  after 
another  was  revealed  to  my  anxious  gaze.  There  were  some  rough  places, 
and  some  patches  of  red  clay  which  a  rain  would  soon  render  unridable ;  but 
most  of  the  road  was  fairly  smooth,  and  led  through  deep  woods,  with  only 
a  few  outlooks  into  the  valley.  At  some  of  these  places,  I  could  see  the 
dense  rain-sheets  of  separate  showers,  sweeping  along  the  tops  of  adjacent 
mountains ;  and,  though  I  was  lightly  sprinkled  upon  without  being  wetted, 
the  rattling  claps  of  thunder  and  sharp  flashes  of  lightlying  added  to  the 
weirdness  of  my  environment.  The  spectacular  effect  of  this  battle  of  the 
elements  was  certainly  grand,  and  I  recall  it  with  pleasure ;  though,  as  I  low- 
ered myself  slowly  downward,  aching,  as  to  my  arms,  from  the  strain  of  a 
prolonged  clutch  upon  the  handle-bar,  and  expecting  momentarily  to  be 
drenched  by  a  sudden  sweep  towards  me  of  the  shower,  I  did  not  then  regard 
my  lot  as  a  superlatively  happy  one.  I  was  comforted,  however,  by  the 
thought  that  if  my  final  "  transformation  scene  "  were  really  destined  to  be 
effected  by  electricity,  here  in  these  solitary  summits  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  there 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG,    381 

woald  be  a  certain  poetic  appropriateness  about  it;  and  that  my  executor 
would  be  able  to  assure  the  sorrowing  subscribers  of  this  book  that  *' Number 
254,  Jr^"  was  found  with  a  creditable  degree  of  polish  upon  its  nickel-plate, 
and  that  the  white  riding-clothes  of  its  owner  were  fairly  clean  I 

After  rounding  a  rocky  ledge  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  I  found  a 
straight  road — rather  rough,  with  some  streaks  of  red  and  yellow  clay — ^to  a 
hill  beyond  a  r.  r.  crossing,  about  2  m.  Beyond  this,  I  met  a  ford,  crossed  by 
a  narrow  plank ;  and,  afterwards,  within  i  m.  of  the  fine  hotel  at  Luray,  a  still 
broader  one,  having  no  sign  of  a  bridge  but  a  rough  rail  fence,  along  which 
some  well-dressed  ladies  were  slowly  struggling,  with  an  awkwardness  quite 
painful  to  behold.  Realizing  that  it  would  be  useless  for  me  to  attempt 
dragging  my  bicycle  along  such  a  fence,  I  raided  it  above  my  head  and  stolidly 
plodded  for  a  rod  or  two  through  six  inches  of  running  water.  At  the  r.  r.,  I 
1. 1.  along  the  tracks  to  the  station,  and  then  rode  up  the  steep  but  smooth 
board  walk  to  the  Luray  Inn.  The  entrance  to  the  Cave  is  1}  m.  away,  and 
I  wheeled  thither  and  back,  the  next  forenoon,  though  the  hill  through  the 
village  is  a  steep  one.  Regretfully,  at  2.30,  I  turned  my  back  on  the  scene  of 
my  **  last  good  dinner  in  Virginia,"  and  in  i  h.  reached  the  ferry  over  the 
South  Fork,  4f  m.  Good  riding  followed  for  3  m.,  and  then  i  m.  of  up-grade, 
after  which  I  walked  most  of  the  last  2  m.,  to  the  summit  of  the  Massanut- 
ten,  at  5  o'clock,  though  I  think  a  powerful  rider  might  conquer  the  whole  of 
it.  The  first  of  the  descent  was  smooth,  but  towards  the  end  the  rough  clay 
seemed  too  dangerous  for  me  to  ride.  The  views  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley, 
as  I  thus  descended  into  it,  were  of  surpassing  beauty.  I  struck  the  valley 
pike,  at  the  Central  Hotel  in  Newmarket,  4  m.  from  the  summit,  in  i  h.,  the 
latter  part  of  the  road,  from  the  covered  bridge,  being  of  rough  brown  clay, 
which  would  probably  be  found  hammered  into  smoothness  in  dry  weather. 

"  Lovely "  is  the  proper  adjective  to  apply  to  the  broad  plain  where  stands  the  Luray 
Inn,  with  nearly  all  of  its  horizon  bounded  by  the  beautifully  blue  summits  of  the  Blue  Ridge,— 
the  lemoter  ones  ahnost  imperceptibly  sinking  into  the  blue  of  the  sky  itself.  The  hill  where 
entrance  is  made  to  the  Cave  also  commands  a  noble  outlook ;  thomph  this  is  not  needed  to  cheer 
the  spirits  of  the  tourist  when  he  emei^es  from  an  inspection  of  its  wonders.  The  electric  lights, 
reflecting  the  glitter  of  the  gigantic  crystals,  make  the  cavern  itself  a  fairly  cheerful  place,  with- 
out detracting  from  its  weird  and  indescribable  impressiveness ;  whereas,  in  the  Mammoth  Cave 
(p.  333),  the  uppermost  feeling  left  upon  my  mind  was  one  of  profound  gloom  over  its  mysterious- 
ncss  and  immensity.  The  guide  would  throw  lighted  rolls  of  oiled  paper  into  its  deepest  chasms, 
and  would  illumine  its  most  remarkable  domes  and  diambers  by  burning  red  and  blue  chemicals ; 
but  the  darkness  seemed  all  the  deeper  after  these  brief  breaks  in  it,  and  the  prison-Iike  feeling 
produced  by  a  knowledge  that,  if  the  guide  became  disabled,  no  exit  would  be  possible  until  the 
next  guide  came  along  the  route  (a  period  of  a  few  minutes  or  of  several  hours),  was  not  a  happy 
one.  Mammoth  Cave,  furthermore,  has  been  vulgarized  in  some  places  by  piles  of  stones  rudely 
labeled  u  "  monuments,"  and  in  other  places  by  tourists*  names  Inscribed  in  candle-smoke 
upon  the  ceilings,  and  by  the  pits  and  implements  used  in  the  making  of  saltpetre,  and  by  a 
House  whose  floor  is  an  inch  or  two  deep  with  "  visiting  cards  "  which  have  been  swept  down 
from  the  walls  by  later  "  visitors  *'  whose  cards  are  pinned  there.  The  house  which  makes  this 
melancholy  exhibition  of  mortal  vanity  is  one  of  a  series  built  early  in  the  century  to  shelter  a 
colony  of  consumptives,  who  vainly  hoped  that  the  unvarying  temperature  of  the  cavern  would 


i 


382  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

restore  their  diseased  luogs  to  health.  They  might  more  pleasantly  have  died  at  the  oatset,  it 
seems  to  me,  than  thus  dismally  have  buried  themselves  from  the  daylight ;  for  though  many 
miles  may  there  be  walked,  much  of  the  walking  leads  through  deep  dust,  and  some  of  it  over 
rocks  which  are  slippery  with  water  or  otherwise  difficult.  When  a  lady  sprains  an  ankle  in  sodi 
a  place,  the  task  of  lugging  her  out,  5  or  6  m.,  by  the  flickering  light  of  lanterns,  is  too  tiresome 
for  romance  or  poetry.  I  name  these  defects  and  discomforts  of  the  cavern  not  to  discourage  any 
healthy  and  vigorous  person  from  going  there  (for  Mammoth  Cave  is  a  real  wonder  of  the  world, 
which  every  American  ought  to  visit,  in  spite  of  the  9  m.  of  bad  road  which  separates  it  from  the 
railway),  but  to  emphasize  the  contrast  which  the  cavern  of  Luray  offers  in  respect  to  attractive- 
ness and  accessibility.  By  virtue  of  its  recent  discovery,  it  has  been  kept  unmarred,  as  Nature 
made  it ;  and  all  its  spectacular  magnificence  may  be  viewed  in  a  comfortable  and  leisurely  man- 
ner. A  single  inspection  of  the  Mammoth  Cave  sufficed  to  gratify  my  curiosity;  but  Luray  I 
would  like  to  look  at  often,  just  as  I  like  to  look  often  at  Niagara. 

I  may  say  the  same  of  the  Natural  Pridge,  and  the  mountains  overhanging  it ;  and  I  have 
explained  on  p.  3  50  how  conveniently  a  trip  thither  may  be  combined  with  one  to  Luray.  A  car- 
riage road,  which  crosses  the  Brid^^e  a  few  rods  s.  of  the  hotel  and  not  much  above  its  level,  winds 
by  easy  grades  to  the  top  of  Mt.  Jefferson,  a  smooth  and  open  aommit  crowned  by  an  observatory 
which  offers  an  inspiring  view  of  grand  mountain-ranges  in  nevly  every  direction, — the  extreme 
pealcs  on  the  horizon  being  nearly  100  m.  apart.  I  thought  myself  very  fortunate  in  having  the 
whole  of  a  sunshiny  afternoon  to  loiter  upon  that  glorious  hill-top  (in  a  balmy  temperature  of  70^, 
though  it  was  the  last  Saturday  of  autumn),  for  a  two  days'  fog  lifted  just  before  my  arrival,  and 
a  two  days'  rain  began  soon  after  nightfall.  "  Picturesque  B.  and  O."  (see  p.  245)  makes  only  a 
casual  allusion  to  Natural  Bridge,  though  it  gives  a  third  of  its  space  (pp.  6S>ri4)  to  "  the  Valley 
of  Viiginia,"  and  illustrates  the  same  with  32  pictures,  incluifing  a  fairly  good  view  of  Luraj 
Cave,  and  of  the  White  Sulphur  Springs  Hotel.  The  same  authority  says  that  a  good  hotel  may 
be  found  at  Weyer's  Cave,  which  is  reached  by  a  stage-coach  ride  of  14  m.,  beginning  at  a  point 
about  half-way  between  Staunton  and  Harrisonburg.  This  cave  is  described  with  enthusiasm  in 
"  Picturesque  America  "  (L  212),  by  Sallie  A.  Brock ;  and  there  are  also  caves  near  Newmarket 
whose  attractions  are  locally  proclaimed  as  "  superior  in  some  respects  to  Luray."  Of  the 
journey  to  L.  which  some  Washington  wheelmen  made,  from  the  Valley  View  Springs  Hotel, 
overlooking  Newmarket,  I  quote  the  following  report  from  the  Wheelman  article  used  on  p. 
348 ;  and  it  may  be  instructively  compared  with  my  own  experiences  on  the  same  road,  as  given 
on  p.  381 :  *'  On  Sept.  4,  we  climbed  laboriously  on  foot  (40  min.)  to  the  top  of  the  moant- 
ain,— the  surface  being  hard  and  smooth,  but  unridable  for  any  distance  on  account  of  the  grade,— 
and,  after  seeing  that  the  brakes  were  in  order,  began  the  descent  That  was  a  memorable  pieoe 
of  hill-riding !  A  recent  shower  had  made  the  road-bed  wet ;  stones  of  all  sixes  lay  around  pro- 
miscuously;  sharp  turns  occurred  at  short  intervals ;  but  over  all  was  the  grade— at  least  1  in 
8  all  the  way  down.  Every  foot  to  the  bottom  was  ridden  without  dismount  by  two  of  as,  and 
the  cyclometer  showed  the  distance  from  the  summit  was  just  a^  m.  Of  the  7  m.  thence  to  the 
Luray  Inn,  which  was  reached  at  ia.30,  the  first  3  m.,  to  the  North  Fork,  is  excellent ;  the  rest 
has  many  hills  and  steep  ones,  and  the  loose  stones  treacherously  imbedded  in  the  soil  demand 
great  care  in  riding.  We  rode  down  the  ahnost  perpendicular  hill  into  Luray,  and  one  of  the 
party  afterwards  rode  up  it.  Next  morning,  we  retraced  oar  course,  walking  to  the  summit  of 
Massanutten,  and  riding  down  the  opposite  side  to  Valley  View  House  for  dinner.  Thenoe  at 
3  we  proceeded  across  to  Newmarket  and  struck  the  Valley  pike  again." 

I  had  planned  to  go  again  to  Staunton,  but,  being  two  days  behind  my 
schedule,  I  decided  that  I  must  deny  myself  that  pleasure,  and  so  faced  for 
the  n.,  along  one  of  the  very  prettiest  sections  of  the  entire  valley.  I  have 
alluded  in  Chapter  XXIV.  (p.  346)  to  this  7  m.  spin  without  stop,  6.25  to  7.10 
p.  M.,  as  a  specially  exhilarating  one;  and  it  sharpened  my  appetite  for  sup- 
per at  Wilson's  Hotel,  in  Mt.  Jackson,  where  I  was  quite  taken  aback  by  the 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  V  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG.    383 

aneipecieil  lu.iury  of  broiled  frog's-legs.  Through  all  thit  favored  region,  the 
noble  bull-frog  vaunts  himself  in  much  grandeur  and  greenness,  and  furnishes 
great  sport  to  the  small  boy,  after  school  hours  are  over.  I  sav  several  such 
intently  engaged  in  "  frogging,"  at  previous  points  on  the  road,  but  never  sus- 
pected that  I  was  to  enjoy  the  results  of  similar  labors^  and  I  presume  that 
any  epicure  on  the  vheel,  who  may  plan  to  pass  a  night  in  Mt.  Jackson,  can 
alwap  make  sure  of  a  frog  supper,  during  the  season,  by  sending  a  day'i 
notice  of  his  desire  to  the  owner  of  the  comfortable  bold  there  situated. 

When  I  started  away  from  it,  at  6  A.  u.  of  May  29,  a  very  cold  wind  was 
blowing;  and  the  air  continued  of  such  phenomenal  chilliness  during  the  day 
that  I  actually  kept  on  my  flannel  jacket  without  discomfort.  The  night  which 
Followed  was  so  bitter  as  to  set  all  the  natives  to  shivering.  I  afterwards 
learned,  to  my  sorrow,  that  this  extraordinary  cold  wave  had  been  very  widely 
diffosed, — producing,  in  Massachusetts,  a  frost  of  unheard-of  severity  which 
destroyed  all  the  crops.  But  it  was  an  ideal  day  for  wheeling,  and  t  reached 
the  Chalybeate  Springs  Hotel,  in  Strasburg,  25  m.,  in  just  3  b.,  covering  Ihui 
a  longer  distance  than  ever  before  in  that  interval.  My  lirst  slop  was  for  the 
sake  of  a  horse;  my  second  was  forced  by  a  long  hill  of  rough  mac.  which  I 
couldn't  qoite  surmount  (this  same  hill  was  the  only  one  not  contjuered  by  It. 
S.  Wood,  the  previous  week,  in  riding  the  whole  115  m.  from  Staunton  to  the 
Potomac) ;  and  at  Woodstock  I  halted  to  get  a  drink  from  a  milk-wagon. 
This  was  at  the  middle-point  of  the  spin,  ll\  m.  and  l}  h.  from  the  start,  and 

1  think  I  kept  the  saddle  then  to  S.  The  hotel  in  W.  was  labeled  "  Shenan- 
doah," and  looked  not  unattractive.  I  delayed  i^h.  for  breakfast  and  for 
renewing  my  acqoaintance  of  the  prcvtom  Xovcmbcr  with  the  owner  of  the 
hotel  (p.  345),  whom  I  quickly  beguiled  into  subscribing  for  the  book ;  and  [ 
made  •ereral  long  stops  on  the  road,  to  enjoy  the  scenery,  or  the  talk  of  peo- 
ple wba  recalled  the  stirring  events  of  war   limes.     Hence,  it  was   nearly 

2  aim  I  halted  for  lonch  al  a  restaurant  opposite  the  posl-office  in 
WindielteT,  17}  m-,  and  it  was  3  when  I  really  resumed  my  journey  on  the 
BenynDe  pike,  after  an  intermediate  progress  o(  1  m^  in  examining  (he 
moonments  of  the  Confederate  cemetery.  Tlic  50  m.  between  Mewmarket 
and  this  point  had  been  wheeled  by  me  in  the  opposite  direction  (Vov.  II,  "83, 

S.JO  a,  M.  to  5~«i)r.  m.,  see  p.  345),  bat  the  rest  of  my  re ^---i 

vhedii^  prevailed  for  4}  dl,  mnch  o(  it  down  a  delilc  wl 

to  a  |dacE  whnr  I  crossed  a  stream,  a  rod  wide.  On  Star 
ipaa  creek,  wrth  a  f '^rd  3  or  4  rods  wide,  was  \  m-  beyoni 
wagon  ferried  ibc  across.  The  driver  said  there  was  a  lii 
a  Iktle  wzn  beJov,  bol  I  saw  nothing  of  them.  Berryr 
ID  I  L,  lad  I  tngfal  there  to  hare  taken  a  sharp  t.  L  f tt  t 
Im  I  ■■wi:'J;g*T  hepl  straigfat  on  for  5  m.  till  brotii^ht  ti 
at  r^fi  miii'i  Ferry.  (This  was  formerW  catled  Sr 
Sakker's  Gap,  tbe  ■DtftTAarre  r^nte  thr-mgh  wbich  to 
np- 144.1 


384  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Charlestown  before  deciding  to  go  back  to  Berryville  for  the  night,  and  I 
rode  2  m.  there,  in  a  vain  pursuit  of  "  strawberries  for  supper,"  so  that  when 
I  stopped,  at  7.15,  my  day's  record  was  just  67  m.  A  local  rider  escorted  me 
3  m.  out,  the  next  morning ;  and  I  entered  West  Virginia,  2  m.  beyond  his 
place  of  leaving  me,  at  10.45.  '^^^  court  house  in  Charlestown,  7J  m.,  where 
John  Brown  was  tried  in  1859,  was  reached  just  before  noon,  and  though  a 
decent-looking  hotel  called  the  Carter  stood  opposite  to  it,  I  decided  to  press 
on  to  Harper's  Ferry  for  dinner.  When  I  reached  the  Mountain  View- 
House  there,  7J  m.  in  i\  h.,  I  found  a  horde  of  cheap  excursionists  from 
Washington  in  full  control ;  and  I  had  to  fight  for  all  the  food  I  got.  Under 
normal  conditions,  the  establishment  might  offer  a  fair  amount  of  comfort, 
and  it  is  certainly  a  great  improvement  on  the  desperately  dirty  one,  which  I 
found  there  two  years  before  (p.  241).  At  the  cemetery  on  the  hill  in  sight  of 
H.  F.,  where  the  roads  fork,  t  t.  r.  down  a  rough  and  partly  unridable  slope 
to  the  riverside,  and  followed  this,  with  lofty  cliffs  overhanging  the  1.,  past 
the  U.  S.  Armory  ruins,  to  the  hotel.  The  1.  road  at  the  cemetery  was  said 
to  be  inferior.  The  road  from  C.  to  that  point  was  hilly  and  difficult,  with 
much  freshly-laid  mac,  and  one  or  two  small  villages.  Crossing  the  bridge 
into  Maryland  at  2,  I  t.  1.  up  the  C.  &  O.  tow-path,  and  after  riding  6  m. 
pleasantly  in  i  h.  (getting  over  two  waste-weirs  on  logs  and  wading  one,  which 
would  be  troublesome  in  time  of  high  water),  I  stopped  about  i  h.  to  chat 
with  a  tourist  who  was  wheeling  in  the  opposite  direction  (see  p.  244).  I 
rode  the  next  6  m.  as  fast  as  I  could  (|  h.),  and  then  t.  r.  from  the  tow-path, 
walked  up  a  hill,  and  followed  a  rough  road  of  yellow  clay  to  Sharpsburg, 
3J  m.  The  place  where  I  left  the  canal  was  opposite  the  bridge  which  crosses 
the  Potomac  to  Shepherdstown,  whence  a  good  mac.  road  extends  w.  to  Mar- 
tinsburg,  12  m.  (p.  344) ;  while  another  road,  presumably  ridable,  reaches 
from  Sharpsburg  to  Williamsport  (pp.  238,  344). 

I  found  the  people  of  S.  celebrating  Memorial  Day,  by  decorating  the 
graves  in  the  adjacent  National  Cemetery,  where  sleep  the  2,000  Union 
soldiers  who  fell  in  the  great  battle  of  the  Antietam  (Sept.  17, 1862),  that  raged 
from  daybreak  till  sundown,  along  the  hills  and  through  the  ravines  among 
which  winds  the  deeply-flowing  creek  whose  name  was  thus  made  historic.  I 
believe  I  crossed  it  twice  by  bridges,  one  on  each  side  of  S.,  and  that  2  or  3  m. 
of  my  riding  was  along  a  path  where  the  bloody  waves  of  battle  had  surged 
back  and  forth  upon  that  dreadful  day.  I  reached  the  Baldwin  House  in 
Hagerstown  (p.  238),  at  7.10  p.  M.,  with  a  day's  record  of  48}  m.,  and  at  once 
possessed  myself  of  the  baggage  which  I  had  sent  thither  from  Washington, 
and  which  I  next  day  despatched  to  New  York.  I  rode  236  m.  in  the  6  days  be- 
tween W.  and  H.,  and  246  m.  in  the  6  days  between  H.  and  N.  Y. ;  and  I 
think  each  experience  represents  about  as  long  a  time  or  distance  as  I  like  to 
push  a  bicycle  without  having  access  to  a  larger  supply  of  personal  comforts 
than  I  care  to  carry  on  it.  My  ride  from  Sharpsburg  to  H.,  13  m.  in  i}  h., 
was  along  an  undulating  toll-pike  of  mac,  often  bordered  with  locust-trees  in 


BULL  RUN^  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AiVD  GETTYSB(/RG.    385 

fall  bloom,  with  ridable  hills  and  many  pleasing  Tiews  of  a  fertile  and  pros- 
perous coontij.  Starting  n.  from  the  central  square  of  H.  at  1 1  a.  m.  of  the 
31st,  1 1.  r.  at  the  first  toll-gate,  i}  m^  and  after  passing  the  gate  at  Leiters- 
burg,  5}  m^  at  ii.50»  t.  L  f or  Waynesboro,  5  m^  which  is  just  inside  the  line 
of  PennsyiTania.  Thence  I  jogged  on,  at  i.jo,  after  a  dinner  at  the  National 
Hotel  (whose  owner  said  he  was  glad  to  subscribe  for  a  wheeler's  guide,  even 
though  forced  to  fight  the  printers  for  not  spelling  his  own  name  *'  Wheler  **), 
carrying  a  paper  bag  fall  of  strawberries  at  the  1.  end  of  my  handle-bar. 
Rather  than  drop  these,  on  the  occasion  of  a  sudden  dismount,  I  let  the 
wheel  itself  drop,  for  the  first  time  in  its  history  (record,  667  m.) ;  and  I  did 
not  drop  it  again  until  738  m.  later.  The  toll-gate  on  the  mountain  summit, 
5  m.  from  W^  was  reached  in  2  h.,  and  at  the  brick  summer-hotel  of  Monte- 
rey, \  m.  beyond,  I  L  U  and  began  upon  2  m.  of  down-hill  riding.  Beii^ 
warned  that  the  first  sign  "  1.  to  Gettysburg  "  would  lead  me  into  a  rough  and 
hilly  road,  I  kept  on  till  within  a  few  rods  of  the  toll-gate  of  the  Emmetts- 
bnrg  pike,  and  there  t,  1.  across  a  covered  bridge.  At  5  o'clock,  when  1 1  m. 
from  W.,  I  reached  a  sign  **  3^  m.  to  Fairfield,"  and  I  was  almost  i  h.  in 
getting  to  the  Mansion  House  in  F.,  3}  m.,  which  is  also  called  Millers- 
town.  I  finished  at  the  Eagle  Hotel  in  Gettysburg,  8}  m.,  at  7.30  o'clock. 
The  last  5  or  6  m.  of  road,  being  made  of  powdered  red  sandstone,  was  fairly 
good ;  but  from  the  bridge  to  F.  the  surface  was  mostly  unridable,  though 
level.  I  was  assured,  by  the  owner  of  the  Eagle,  that  the  route  over  the 
mountains,  which  I  had  been  warned  against,  would  have  been  found  much 
better  than  the  one  actually  traversed.  I  paid  an  early  visit,  next  morning,— 
which  was  perfectly  clear  and  pleasant, — ^to  the  National  Cemetery,  and  made 
several  circuits  of  its  ideally  sipooth  roads,  so  that  3  m.  were  added  to  my 
register  when  I  returned  to  the  hotel  for  breakfast. 

General  Doubleday's  book  on  "  Gettysburg  "  (Scribners,  $i),  whose  maps  of  the  region  I 
haye  alluded  to  on  p.  352,  is  an  admirable  companion  for  the  studious  tourist  who  wishes  to 
bring  before  his  mind  a  clear  conception  of  the  sulphurous  scenes  once  enacted  here,— though  I 
believe  a  cheaper  local  guide  is  procurable  at  the  hotel.  A  visit  may  also  be  recommended  to 
the  great  circular  building  of  the  Boston  Cyclorama  Company,  531  to  541  Tremont  St.,  Boston, 
where,  according  to  the  advertisement,  "  you  step  at  once  into  the  center  of  the  battle  as  it  took 
place,  and  may  expect  to  see  the  grandest  sight  of  the  age ;  for  the  managers  have  ex- 
pended no  less  than  ^300,000  in  perfecting  this  wonderful  representation  of  Gettysburg.**  The 
battle  which  raged  along  these  slopes  and  plains  from  the  ist  to  the  3d  of  July,  1863,  will  prob- 
ably tank  in  history  as  chief  among  the  decisive  ones  of  the  civil  war.  Here,  at  least,  the  South 
nude  her  supreme  effort  to  play  the  part  of  an  invader;  and  never  again  was  she  able  to  bring 
into  the  field  so  mighty  and  hopeful  a  host.  Nowhere  else,  I  think,  did  so  many  representative 
men,  from  so  many  States,  struggle  so  long  and  so  desperately  for  the  mastery.  Looking  at 
these  endless  rows  of  soldiers'  grave-stones  in  this  National  Cemetery,  and  thinking  of  the 
equally  nnmeroos  Confederate  dead  whose  unmarked  resting  places  are  hard  by,  I  pity  the  man 
who  is  possessed  by  any  other  sentiment  than  one  of  profound  sorrow  and  compassion  that  so 
many  of  America's  best  and  bravest  were  fated  thus  to  slaughter  one  another.  At  Gettysburg, 
if  ooirfiere  else,  the  sonrivors  or  successors  of  that  warring  generation,  which  has  now  mostly 
gone  from  the  stage,  can  afford  to  riew  the  hard-fought  field  "  with  malice  towards  none— with 
charity  for  all."  As  I  stood  there  beside  the  graves  of  the  Massachusetts  men,  on  that  bright 
23 


386  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Sunday  morning,  the  first  day  of  summer,  twenty-one  years  after  the  combat,  I  thought  of  the 
wise  words  spoken  at  the  age  of  34  by  the  gallant  soldier  whom  I  like  to  remember  as  the  best 
single  contribution  which  that  native  State  of  mine  made  to  the  civil  war  :  William  Francis 
Bartlett  (b.  June  6, 1840,  d.  Dec  17,  1876),  the  youngest  man  who  came  out  of  that  war  as  a 
Major  Genera],  commanding  a  division  in  the  largest  amy  of  modem  times.  And  these  are  the 
words,  whose  statesmanlike  grasp  and  greatness  made  them  seem  to  me  more  truly  monumenta] 
than  any  of  the  inscriptions  which  I  read  on  the  monuments  at  Gettysburg,  that  Sunday  morn- 
ing,— ^words  which  I  hope  will  be  remembered,  as  the  characteristic  and  representative  utterance 
of  a  typical  and  thoroughbred  Yankee,  long  after  the  pitiful  maunderings  of  the  decrepit 
political  pigmies,  who  now  pretend  to  speak  for  New  England,  shall  have  been  buried,  with 
themselves,  in  diaritable  oblivion  :  "  It  was  to  make  tlus  a  happy,  reunited  oonntiy,  where 
every  man  should  be  in  reality  free  and  equal  before  the  law,  that  our  comrades  fought,  our 
brothers  fell  They  died  not  that  New  England  might  prosper,  or  that  the  West  might  thrive. 
They  died  not  to  defend  the  Northern  Capitol,  or  preserve  those  marble  halls  where  the  pol- 
ished statesmen  of  the  period  conduct  their  deified  debates !  They  died  for  their  comrUry — 
/or  the  South  no  less  tkamfor  the  North.  And  the  Southern  youth,  in  the  days  to  come,  will 
see  this,  and,  as  he  stands  in  these  hallowed  halls  and  reads  those  names,  realising  the  grandeur 
and  power  of  a  country  which,  thanks  to  them,  b  still  his,  wiU  exclaim:  '  These  men  foi^t 
for  my  salvation  as  well  as  for  their  own.  They  died  to  preserve  not  merely  the  unity  of  a 
nation,  but  the  destinies  of  a  continent.'  *  *  *  As  an  American,  I  am  as  proud  of  the  men 
who  charged  so  bravely  with  Pickett's  Division  on  our  lines  at  Gettysbuig,  as  I  am  of  the  men 
who  so  bravely  met  and  repulsed  them  there.  Men  cannot  always  choose  the  right  cause ;  but 
when,  having  chosen  that  which  consdenoe  dictates,  they  are  ready  to  die  for  it,  if  they  justify 
not  their  cause,  they  at  least  ennoble  themselves.  And  the  men  who,  for  conscience'  sake,  fought 
^;ainst  their  government  at  Gettysbuxg,  ought  easily  to  be  forgiven  by  the  sons  of  men  who,  for 
oonsdence'  sake,  fought  against  their  government  at  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill.  As  Massa- 
diusetts  was  first  in  war,  so  let  her  be  first  in  peace,  and  she  shall  ever  be  first  in  the  hearts  of 
her  countrjrmen.  And  let  us  here  resolve  that,  true  to  her  ancient  motto,  while  in  war  '■Ense 
fetit  ^ocidatHt^  in  peace  she  demands,  not  only  for  herself,  but  for  every  inch  of  this  great 
country, '  sttb  libertate  ^uietem.*  " — From  his  speeches  at  Cambridge,  June  34,  1874,  and  Lex- 
ington, April  19,  187s,  as  given  on  pp.  251,  257  of  "  Memoir  of  General  Bartlett,"  by  Francis 
Winthrop  Palfrey  (Boston:  Houghton,  Osgood  &  Co.,  1878). 

Resuming  the  journey  from  G.  at  11. 10, 1  stopped  for  dinner  at  Oxford, 
10  m.,  from  1.20  to  2,  and  reached  Abbottown,  4  m.,  at  2.55.  The  pike  to  this 
point  (and  for  6  m.  further,  where  the  smooth  riding  of  the  day  began)  may 
be  described  as  a  cobble-stone  macadam,  with  the  top-dressing  washed  away, 
having  side-tracks  of  red  sandstone  or  red  and  yellow  clay ;  fairly  level  and 
most  of  it  ridable,  but  none  of  it  excellent.  The  city  of  York  hove  in  sight 
4  or  5  m.  before  I  reached  it.  Descending  into  it  at  last  by  a  gentle  grade  to 
the  river,  I  crossed  this  and  went  past  the  National  Hotel  to  the  central 
square  and  market  place,  at  5.25,  when  the  cyclometer  registered  9  m.  from 
the  pK>int  of  striking  the  smooth  road.  At  6.20  I  had  ridden  5}  m.  more ;  and 
I  reached  the  Susquehanna,  2  m.  beyond  this, — ^making  a  sharp  descent  through 
Wrightsville  to  the  bridge.  My  cyclometer  called  this  dark  and  dismal 
structure  just  i  m.  long ;  and  \  m.  beyond  its  end  at  Columbia,  I  ended  my 
day's  journey  of  44}  m.,  at  the  Franklin  House,  at  7.50  P.  M.  Monday  fore- 
noon I  devoted  to  walking  about  town,  and  talking  with  local  riders ;  and  in 
the  afternoon,  between  2  and  5,  I  wheeled  leisurely  to  Lancaster,  11  m.,  es- 
corted by  a  pair  of  clergymen,  one  of  whom  afterwards  managed  the  clerical 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG.    387 

tour  described  on  p.  323.  The  mac.  was  rather  dusty,  for  want  of  rain ;  but 
I  think  my  companions  said  they  had  several  times  ridden  between  C.  and  L. 
without  dismount.  Another  L.  rider  piloted  me  4^  m.,  next  morning,  to  the 
Landis  Valley  House,  where  I  t.  r.  and  followed  the  Catfish  pike  to  its  end  at 
Oregon ;  and  then  a  dirt  road,  winding  over  the  hills,  while  locust  blossoms 
filled  the  air  with  fragrance,  just  as  on  my  afternoon's  approach  to  Hagers- 
town.  Passing  the  cross-roads  of  East  Lynde  and  Akron,  I  came  to  Ephrata, 
at  ia30  (13I  m.  in  3  h.  from  L.)»  where  "  the  Mt.  Vernon  House  by  Z.  Under- 
cnffler  **  presented  a  decent  appearance ;  and  I  stopped  i  h.  later  at  Reams- 
town,  4  m.,  for  ice-cream.  Another  4  m.  took  me  to  Adamstown,  and  a  stop 
of  I  h.  for  dinner ;  thence  5  m.  in  1 1  h.  to  the  Five  Mile  House,  in  sight  of 
Reading,  at  3.15.  The  road  was  good,  all  the  way  into  R.,  and  I  reached  Penn 
St,  there,  5I  m.,  at  4 ;  and  after  a  talk  with  local  cyclers,  and  a  detour  to 
Ninth  St.,  I  was  told  to  try  Fifth  St.,  as  the  best  outlet  from  the  city. 

Climbing  the  hill  past  the  cemetery,  where  a  fine  view  was  offered,  1 1. 1. 
at  Its  foot,  and  went  under  the  first  culvert  but  not  the  second.  From  this 
point  along  the  r.  r.  and  so  to  the  Temple  road-house,  6^  m.  at  6,  I  reversed 
die  route  by  which  I  entered  the  city  on  the  previous  autumn  (see  p.  343) ; 

at  7  I  reached  the  top  of  a  hill,  4  m.  from  the  Temple ;  and  at  8.10  I 
Kntrtown,  6  m.,  riding  without  stop  for  i  m.  or  more  at  the  end, 
spite  of  dusk  and  darkness.  After  a  long  but  smooth  ascent,  I  passed  a 
latge  State  institution  on  the  r.,  before  descending  into  K.,  whose  hotels  are 
all  inferior.  I  afterwards  thought  that  I  might  have  fared  quite  as  well,  if  I 
Ind  stopped  at  the  lone  road-house  about  midway  between  R.  and  K.  I 
49  m.,  that  day,  on  roads  of  soft  yellow  clay  or  brown  loam,  which 

nearly  all  ridable,  though  they  offered  hardly  any  good  riding.  The  sun 
brightly,  but  a  breeze  tempered  the  heat.    The  next  day  was  hotter, 

'Jb  afternoon  roads  were  dusty ;  and  as  my  night*s  sleep  after  the  long 
had  been  poor,  I  rode  no  further  than  Easton  (35  m.,  9  a.  m.  to  6  P.  M.). 
Rodnmdaville  tempted  me  to  stop  for  beer  at  10,  Trexlertown  was  p^sed 
at  rr  snd  the  American  House  in  Allentown,  i8|  m.  from  K.,  was  reached 
ac  i:::^  Light  brown  and  yellow  clay  supplied  pretty  good  riding  from  K. 
*D  r^  imr  betwtten  T.  and  A.  there  were  many  stones  covered  by  deep  dust,  and 
Mjwoui  "md  liilbk  CKt^veil  by  the  first  well-served  dinner  I  had  had  since 
LesTin^die  Lurar  Inn«  a  we^  before  (396  ro.),  I  jogged  to  Bethlehem,  be- 
z  md  >  JO*  paving  S  c.  tt»ll  for  the  use  of  the  dusty  mac.  road,  which  is 

•3J  ifer  dxceilent  rklinjj'  'n\  danitper  weather.  Resting  \  h.  in  B.,  I  reached 
tbe  Fsmersv^lle  Elotel,  10  m.  trvtn  \.^  at  4.40,  and  then  took  no  further  note 
dt  TKf  -uUiimgfgr  'mn'l  the  nnUh,  v>|  iik  beyond,  at  the  United  States  Hotel 
in  Eaattm.  T-w  -»^nds  on  a  comer.  :i  short  distance  1.  of  the  public  square, 
into  whusi  '  vc^^*/«*<i  ^>v  a  vcrv  stee'.*  ^rade. 

w     — ^  'he  next  ii^S  'hI*  ^croa*  N«wi  Jareey  to  Newark,  7a  m., 

'.    ?iv,»  ,-•«:.:  H  ^<K  itt»  wlltth  WM  thus  completed,  and 

"  ^f    •     '  Tiountexl  >M  ^«ti  for  i«tn  tkaa  three  months  ;  and 


388  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

the  story  of  how  I  then  continued  the  trail  200  m.  to  Springfield  in  September  has  been  told  on  ppi 
169-173,  146-148,  I3Z ;  and  of  my  December  ride  back  to  New  York,  on  pp.  122,  134,  136.  On 
the  24th  of  December,  in  the  midst  of  a  driving  snow-storm,  I  rode  my  wheel  from  Washington 
Heights  to  Washington  Sqtiare,  ^\  m.,  and  stored  it  in  my  chambers,  with  the  vow  not  to  mount 
it  s^in  "ttntil  sifter  the  publication  of  my  book."  Hence,  for  more  than  a  year  I've  bad  not 
even  a  taste  of  wheeling.  That  final  ride  was  my  44th  on  "  No.  234,  Jr.,"  during  8  months,  and 
brought  its  record  up  to  1,408  m., — showing  a  daily  average  of  nearly  32  m.  I  fell  with  it  on  the 
324th  and  836th  m.,  and  dropped  it  on  the  667th  and  1,407th  m. — bending  the  1.  crank  in  the  lat- 
ter case,  and  the  handle-bar  the  other  times.  When  I  reached  my  April  starting-point  in  Hart- 
ford (Dec  4),  I  completed  a  continuous  circuit  of  1,050  m.  of  separate  roadway  (excluding  all 
detours  as  well  as  repetitions) ;  and  less  than  250  m.  of  that  circuit  had  been  included  in  the  5,000 
m.  previously  explored  by  me  in  riding  twice  that  distance  on  a  bicyde.  This  fact  suggests  the 
readiness  with  which  even  the  most  experienced  of  riders  may  lay  out  a  pleasant  course  through 
country  which  is  entirely  new  to  him.    The  good  touring  routes  are  practically  inexhaustible. 

The  compiler  of  the  "  League  Road  Book  of  Pa.  and  N.  J.,"  described  on  p.  177,  H.  S. 
Wood  (b.  Dec.  18,  i860),  of  Philadelphia,  has  supplied  for  me  the  following  details  of  his  215  m. 
ride  from  Staunton  to  Gettysburg  and  Columbia,  which  I  have  already  alluded  to  (pp.  317,  383) 
as  the  longest  three  days',  straightaway  run  yet  reported  in  America  :  "  Starting  from  S.  at 
6  a.  m..  May  23,  1884,  i  h.  after  completing  an  all-night,  sleepless  ride  by  train  from  Waishing- 
ton,  I  reached  Harrisonville  at  9,  and  Newmarket,  44^  m.,  at  11. 10.  Between  2.20  and  4, 1 
rode  from  N.  to  Edinburg,  where  a  storm  stopped  me  till  5.40,  when  I  wheeled  5  m.  in  a  hard 
rain  to  Woodstock,  at  6.20,  completing  thus  a  run  of  63  m.  in  6|  h.  of  riding.  The  weather  was 
warm  and  calm,  and  the  next  day's  was  very  hot,  with  a  light  breeze  at  my  bdidc ;  while  the 
road  surface  in  the  bottoms  was  heavy  from  the  rain.  Leaving  W.  at  8  a.  m.,  I  reached  Hagers- 
town  at  6.30  p.  M.,  a  run  of  73  m.  in  7I  h.  of  riding.  My  longest  stop  was  at  Winchester,  i|  b., 
ending  at  z.2o;  Bunker  Hill,  \\\  m.,  was  passed  at  2.45  ;  Martinsburg,  10  m.,  at  4,  and  Will- 
iamsport,  14  m.,  at  5.35.  On  Sunday,  I  covered  79  m.,  H.  to  Columbia,  7  a.  m.  to  7.45  p.  m. 
About  half  the  road  was  very  poor,  and  my  riding  time  of  10^  h.  was  divided  equally  by  my  stop 
of  I  h.  at  Gettysbui^g,  37  m.  from  H.,  where  I  got  a  good  dinner  at  the  '  Eagle.'  I  reached 
Waynesboro,  ii|m.  from  H.,  at  8.35;  Emmetsburg,  15  m.,  at  11.15;  ^i*d  Gettysburg,  11  m., 
at  I  p.  M.  As  no  road  could  be  worse  than  this  vile  stretch  from  £.  to  G.,  where  several  hDls 
must  be  walked,  I  advise  others  to  avoid  any  such  detour  by  taking  the  direct  route  from  W.  to 
G.  The  10  m.  from  G.  to  Oxford,  2  to  3.40  p.  m.,  offered  very  poor  wheeling,  and  the  surface 
then  gradually  improved  for  5  m.  to  Abbotstown.  I  rode  all  the  hills  but  one  between  Staunton 
and  Hagerstown;  had  no  falls  during  the  215  m.,  and  felt  no  ill  effects  on  the  fourth  day,  when  I 
did  considerable  wheeling  in  the  region  of  Columbia,  before  embarking  there  on  a  long  boating 
trip,  which  finished  my  vacation.  My  wheel  was  a  58  in.  Light  Rudge,  with  Duryea  saddle  and 
McDonnell  cyclometer.  A  year  earlier  (July  r,  '83),  I  took  a  straightaway  ride  of  just  12  h.,  from 
Philadelphia  to  Columbia,  about  80  m.,  ending  at  4.15  p.  m., — ^my  longest  stop  being  \\  h.  for 
dinner  at  Lancaster.  I  rode  then  a  54  in.  Expert,  and  was  favored  with  a  cool  wind  at  my  back ; 
but  I  would  not  care  to  take  the  same  trip  again,  for  the  25  m.  from  CoatesviUe  to  L.  was  very 
rough  and  hilly,  thou^  much  of  it  ridable.  Let  me  say  that  an  excellent  course  of  53  m.  from 
Philadelphia  to  Wilmington  is  to  f  oUow  this  same  Lancaster  pike  20  m.  to  Paoli,  then  1. 1.  for  West 
Chester  and  Cbadd's  Ford  and  follow  the  Brandywine  to  W.  This  allows  14  m.  of  splendid  Tel- 
ford, 9  m.  of  very  good  day  and  ao  m.  of  good  dirt,  besides  the  pavement-riding  in  the  terminal 
cities.  I  cannot  tell  how  near  my  total  riding  approximates  to  10,000  m.,  as  I  kept  no  record 
the  first  year.  Of  my  '82  tour  from  New  York  to  Boston,  to  which  the  Wh9tima$Cs  letter 
alluded,  the  less  said  the  better.  I  can  think  of  nothing  else  in  my  record  worth  mentioning, 
except  a  ride  of  106  m.  on  July  4,  '84,  between  daybreak  and  darkness.  Starting  from  Frank- 
ford  (Phila.),  I  reached  Plainfield,  69  m.,  in  season  for  a  z  o'dock  dinner,  then  continued  to  Jersey 
City,  and  came  back  from  there  to  Newark, — the  latter  part  of  the  journey  being  in  the  rain." 
Mr.  W.  printed  two  columns  in  praise  of  "the  unequaled  Shenandoah"  in  the  L,  A*  M^. 
^m/Zt/.Vc  (Aug.  27,  '85,  p.  156);  and  on  Oct.  18  he  rode  again  from  Phila.  to  Lancaster,  60  m. 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG.    389 

in  7)  h.,ud  Richecl  Columbia,  ti  m.,  i  b.  luir.  Hiiroule  inm  Paolilo  L.  wuabwt  is  m. 
(or  J  k.)  ■barter  iban  the  i^ke  between  (hose  poJQU^  whicb  he  had  travencd  on  hia  previous 
BuniFTi  indihe  14  m.  KCIiODOf  it  bnin  P.  loDawnlnglaini  ktluiideKribed ;  "  Leave  the  [uke 
u  Green  Tree  ind  lake  Indian  King  road,  wlilcb  i>  panllel  to  Penn.  r.  r.,  on  l  ude.  to  Mat 
veTD  wbentx  it  lomi  lomewhat  l  »,,  10  IndiaD  King  InD,  wheie  it  ndergea  into  the  Boot  road, 
direct  for  D.  At  Va]le;r  Cr«L,  about  an.  bciore  reaching  D.,  il  gD»  under  r.  r,, and  the  w. 
down-grade  of  bill  there  ie  ridable.  Theauriace  ia  ntoaliy  hard  day,  mucb  superior  to  the  pike." 
PrxaUy  lbi>  newer  mite  warn  the  one  taken  by  S.  B.  Downey,  of  L.,  when  he  wheeled  from 
IhaldtytD  Phila.  {Idnc.  av.  and  5>d.  iL),  "Sept.  lo,  't.%,  between  b.30  a.  M,  and  1  r,  h.,  on  a 
ojuntrj  road,  a  i^atance  of  about  7am.,  with  two  atoppagea  lor  mealn."  Another  notable  local 
tide  was  that  of  Frank  Emberg,  Laudiiville  to  Phila.,  76  m.,  4  a.  h.  lo  7  r.  il,  June  i}, '%%. 

"The  Philade1|dui  lidiog  diatrict  "  i>  tbui  deicribcd  by  Mr.  W.  in  hit  road-book:  "All 
wheclueD  me  the  Park  and  the  Lancaster  pike  on  the  n.  w. ;  many  take  die  gravel  highway*  ra- 
diatiog  fronCamdenonthee-tBndafewof  ibe  bolder  and  more  curiouariderapeDctraie  the  com^ 
panitiTely  iuIuiowti  regioni  to  the  n.  and  l  w.  The  Lancaater  pike,  vhercoD  commetice  route* 
la  Weal  Cheuer,  Lancaater,  Narriatown  and  Reading,  ] 
r.  I.  and  leadi  Ihe  wheehuan  over  an  nnautpaued  Tell 
mote  (4),  Havetiord  College  Cs),  Brya  Mawr  (6),   Wayne  (10),  Devon  (ii),    Berwyn(i))   and 

10  G.  W.  Childe'i  country-Beat,  and  Manlgomery  av.  w.  to  the  Gulf  MLlIi  (a  lovely  Ipol),  offer 
inviting  divenionB,  while  moat  valuable  of  all  appean  the  newly  piked  road   to  CaiahDhadtcn 

Coopertown,  and  a  aimilar  one  n.  to  Merion  Square,  while  from  Overbrook  a  new  and  valuable 
mule  haa  been  created  to  the  hitherto  inacceuihle  C^nernl  Wayne  Hotel,  with  digreuione  on 

Creek  road  ahall  have  joined  ita  well-paved  CDmpaniaiiB,  cyden  will  have  little  more  to  deairc 
in  that  directioD.  In  Faiimount  Park  wheelmen  enjoy  perfect  liberty  on  Ihe  orriage  waya, 
pronded  1  (1)  That  a  bell  be  carried  always  \  a  lamp  by  sight ;  and  a  whistle,  not  at  all.  <i) 
That  wheelmen  ride  no)  more  than  two  abreast.  (1)  That  no  coailing  be 
That  no  iriieel  be  left  nnaltended  by  the  roadside,  (;)  lluit  Ihe  pats  tl 
rm.  per  h.  (the  ji^gment  of  the  police  on  thia  subject,  however,  being  somewhat  elastic)-  Ow- 
ing la  the  oott  of  the  City  Hall,  nuDidpal  eipendiiure  on  txHh  Park  and  slteeM  has  been  of 

interkrt  to  the  Lancaster  pike.  The  West  Park  hat  the  belter  surface  al  present,  ahhough  the 
East  Park  is  Ihe  more  inleresiing  in  its  rivet  toad,  which,  if  folVwed  Dp  the  Schuylkill  and 
Wiisuhickon  to  Indian  Rock,  lumiihea  a  siraigbtaway  of  10  m.  of  unturpaated  beauty,  but 
comiantly  mcnaBng  difficulty.  The  vartout  deviations  in  Ihe  West  Park  aurround  Ihe  sites 
ol  Ihe  Centennial  buildings,  and  finally  tontcnlrale  at  the  top  of  Belmont  into  one  highway 
leidmg  ID  the  Old  Ford  Hill,     In  nuking  Ihe  Park  circuit,  always  Man  with  Ihe  Wen,  in  order 

ward  to  iIk  Fall.  Bridge,  over  which  one  must  walk  to  the  Eatl  Park  drive. 

"To  the  B.  of  P.  Ihe  comparatively  inaccessible  region  of  Germantown  offers  a  few  mac. 


hen,  in  paiaing  e. ,  we  itrike  Ihe  OU  Vark  road— «  prolonj 
m  load  and  Frankford  a  riding  wildemeia  InicrvBiMB,  ai 
alks  Bml  he  endured  before  the  fairly  good  Brialol  fnkc  is 
>e  a,  and  a.  w.  border,  we  find  ihe  exlention  of  Market 
nic  to  Weal  Cheater,  embodying  all  that  it  vile  of  ttone 


390 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


highway,  and  ooming  from  the  mac  region  of  North  Belmont  av.  and  Overbrook,  as  the  Town> 
ship  Line  load,  which  has  left  its  mac  near  the  Lancaster  pike  to  kise  its  conglomerate  identity 
in  radiating  forks  to  Media  and  Chester.  Still  farther  s.  the  Baltimore  pike  (*  Baltimore '  meai»- 
ing  that  travelers  thereto  should  take  any  other  route),  starting  from  the  r.  fork  at  Darby  road 
and  Woodlands  Cemetery,  leads  by  a  very  direct,  rough  and  hilly  route  to  Media  and  Chadd's 
Ford.  Passing  s.  once  more,  and  commencing  where  the  Bait,  pike  b^an,  we  find  the  Darby 
road,  with  i  m.  or  so  of  sidewaU&>riding  before  the  cobbles  give  place  to  very  uncertain  mac 
This  is,  at  some  seasons,  fair  riding  to  Darby ;  thence  somewhat  rot^h  amd  rutty  to  Chester  and 
Wilmington.  But  by  far  the  naost  satisfactory  southern  outlet  is  the  Tinicum  road,  parallel  to 
the  Delaware  below  the  mouth  of  the  Schuylkill.  This  road,  approached  by  5  m.  of  Belgian, 
mac,  and  side  paths,  offers  a  dead  level  surface  of  very  fair,  quickly  drying  gravel  for  another 
4  m.,  and  finally  joins  the  Darby  and  Chester  pike  (after  a  sand  hole  and  a  turn  inland)  near 
Moore's  Station.  Crossing  the  river  to  Camden  by  Market  St  Ferry,  and  beginning  with  the 
northernmost,  we  find  the  gravel  pikes  to  Burlington  (fair  to  poor),  MerchantviUe  and  Moores- 
town  (good),  Marlton  (fair),  Haddonfield  and  White  Horse  (good),  and  Mt.  Ephraim  (good). 
The  connections  with  South  Jersey  are  best  made  by  South  St.  Ferry  to  Gloocestor,  whence  a 
good  gravel  pike  leads  to  Woodbury.  From  this  point  three  highways  radiate  southward, — the 
easternmost  throt^h  Pitman  Grove  and  Glassboro'  to  Vineland  (fair  to  poor),  the  next  to  Woods* 
town  by  way  of  Mullica  Hill,  and  the  last  direct  to  Swedesboro',  Woodstown  amd  S^lem.  From 
Salem  a  magnificent  surfatce  runs  through  Bridgeton  and  Millville  to  Vineland.  All  the  Jersey 
roads  above  mentioned  are  reclaimed  from  a  sandy  soil  by  gravel  piking.  They  become  vile  in 
frosty  weather  amd  dusty  in  a  very  dry  season,  biU  are  generally  fine,  especially  after  the  qning 
scraping,  or  a  soaking  rain  in  sununer.  The  Devon  Inn,  the  Wayne  hotels,  or  that  at  Bryn 
Mawr,  afford  visitors  the  best  and  most  compact  riding  with  the  highest  sodal  advantages." 


The  latter  part  of  the  next  chapter  is  from  the  IVhtel  Worlds  London,  Oct.,  '85.  The  alle- 
gorical design  which  I  have  described  on  the  opposite  page  {Htir^ef's  Wetkfy,  Jan.  9,  '69,  p.  35) 
was  drawn  by  Winslow  Homer,  who,  at  about  that  time,  occupied  a  studio  in  the  University  Build- 
ing. The  same  paper  of  April  10  (p.  336)  had  a  sketch  of  the  Prince  Imperial  and  a  boy  ccmo- 
panion  practicing  on  velocipedes  in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor,  in  the  reserved  garden  of  the 
Tttileries.  Its  final  illustration  of  the  subject  (May  s,  p.  281)  was  a  full-page  picture,  drawn  by 
Thomas  Worth,  entitled  "  The  Velocipede  Mania— What  It  May  Come  ToJ  "  This  is  of  a 
oomic  cast,  and  depicts  eight  bicycles  and  three  four-wheelers,  driving  swiftly  along  in  front  of 
"J.  Shank's  Horse  Meat  Market."  The  latter  vehicles  are  ridden  by  women,  one  of  them 
having  a  baby  in  her  arms,  another  having  a  garbage-cart  attached,  and  the  third  being  a  lady 
of  fashion,  for  whom  a  parasol  is  held  by  a  "  tiger  "  in  the  rear.  The  bicycle  riders  are  an  ed- 
itor, a  soldier,  a  clergyman,  a  doctor,  a  student,  a  baker,  a  milkman  and  a  butcher-boy;  and  the 
single  pedestrian  in  the  sketch  is  emerging,  with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  from  the  "  Velocipede  Man- 
ufactory and  Riding  School."  At  just  about  the  time  when  this  picture  was  printed,  "the 
craze  "  came  to  its  sudden  end ;  and  this  end  was  foretold  by  another  comic  cut  in  the  same 
issue  of  the  paper :  "  The  Fate  of  the  Bicycles— '  Knives  to  Grind ! ' "  The  only  later  allur 
sion  to  it  ever  given  in  Harptt^a  Wtekly  was  contained  in  the  following  sketch  of  a  "  Wheel- 
odpede  "  whidi  the  editor  inserted  twice  (June  26,  p.  407 ;  Sept.  11,  p.  5S7) :  "  It  has  only  one 
wheel ;  neither  treadle  nor  saddle ;  and  is  built  in  such  shape  that  you  don't  have  to  straddle. 
The  man  who  propels  it  takes  hold  with  his  hands  of  two  parallel  bars,  and  on  the  ground 
stands  :  puts  his  feet  in  motion,  one  after  the  other,  while  the  vehide  goes  without  any  bother. 
This  funny  machine  has  no  painting  nor  gilding  :  it  is  useful  to  carry  material  for  building- 
shingles  and  shavings,  brick,  lime  and  plaster— and,  the  lighter  the  load,  it  can  travel  the  faster. 
It  is  better  than  a  bicycle,  for  it  isn't  so  narrow;  and  our  wheelocipede  we  call  a  wheel- 
barrow t  "  The  ancient  bone-shakers  of  Alnwick  Castle,  mentioned  00  p.  386  as  exciting  re- 
mark in  184 1,  were  seen  there  quite  recently  by  C.  M.  Douglass,  who  alludes  to  them  in  the 
Wtutlman  (Dec.  '84,  p.  174),  "A-wheel  in  Three  Continents." 


XXVII. 

BONE-SHAKER   DAYS.* 

Time  pla3rs  queer  tricks  with  mortal  memory,  but  it  never  drives  from 
the  mind  of  a  college-bred  man  the  distinctive  number  of  his  "  class."  About 
this  particular  numeral,  which  marks  the  exact  point  in  the  century  where 
his  four  years'  undergraduate  life  was  terminated,  there  is  a  certain  magical 
significance  that  age  has  no  power  to  spoil.  His  boyish  dreams  of  it,  as 
representing  a  real  annus  mirabUis  in  human  history,  may  all  have  been  dis- 
sipated ;  his  collegian's  enthusiasm  in  chanting  it  aloud,  as  a  war-cry  for  "  the 
class,"  may  all  have  been  forgotten ;  but  the  numeral  itself  clings  everlast- 
ingly to  his  consciousness.  No  man  ever  quite  banishes  from  recollection 
*'  the  year  when  he  graduated."  It  is  a  fixed  fact  in  his  existence ;  a  well- 
defined  objective-point ;  a  clearly-lettered  mile-stone  on  the  roadway  of  life.  If 
he  makes  acquaintance  with  a  graduate  of  some  other  college  whose  "  year  " 
was  identical,  the  coincidence  appeals  to  him  in  much  the  same  way  as  a 
similarity  in  birth-days.  Indeed,  the  year  of  his  ^  class  "  is  apt  to  be  more 
vividly  pictured  upon  his  mind  than  the  year  of  his  birth. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  on  account  of  fear  lest  I  forget  the  proper  place  in 
the  century  of  my  own  college  class,  that  I  have  kept  continuously  upon  the 
wall  of  my  bed-chamber,  for  more  than  a  decade  and  a  half,  an  allegorical 
representation  of  the  advent  into  America  of  '*  1869."  It  is  simply  a  wood- 
engraving,  nine  by  fourteen  inches  in  size,  which  originally  covered  a  page  in 
Harpcr'i  Weekly;  but  its  historical  and  personal  significance  made  it  seem 
to  me  well  worthy  of  being  mounted  and  framed  and  glazed  and  erected  in  a 
place  of  honor.  The  sketch  shows  Father  Time  in  the  act  of  trundling  off 
from  the  stage  the  Old  Year  (**  1868  "),  in  the  guise  of  a  drunken  man  col- 
lapsed in  a  wheelbarrow,  just  as  the  midnight  bells  ring  in  the  New  Year, 
who  gayly  drives  his  two-wheeler  through  the  tissue-paper  hoop  which  is 
proudly  presided  over  by  a  pretty  Columbine.  Even  the  black  cat  upon  the 
moon-lit  belfry-top  arches  her  back  in  welcome  to  this  First  of  the  Cranks 
C  1869  ")»  whose  pathway  is  pleasantly  strewn  with  flowers,  and  whose  happy 
appearance  recalls  to  my  mind  these  lines  of  the  poet  O'Brien : 

"  Pink  as  the  rose  is  his  skin  so  fstr ;  round  as  an  apple  his  perfect  shape ; 
While  the  light  that  falls  on  his  tawny  hair  is  like  sun  in  the  heart  of  a  baisting  gr^pe." 

Thus  the  picture  serves  to  remind  me  not  only  of  the  year  when  I 
finbhed  crossing  the  bridge  between  youth  and  manhood,  but  of  the  fact  that 

*  The  firat  port  of  this  is  from  The  Spr'  '  -jff^s  GaaiiU,  September,  1885. 


392 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


the  hobby,  which  has  caused  so  notable  a  deviation  to  my  career  in  middle* 
age,  crossed  the  ocean  and  took  possession  of  America  at  the  opening  of 
that  self-same  year.  On  the  first  Thursday  of  it,  when  I  came  down  to  New 
Haven,  to  enter  upon  the  final  six  months  of  my  undergraduate  life,  it 
seemed  as  if  every  waking  hour  of  that  period  would  have  to  be  devoted  to 
hard  work.  I  had  been  kept  out  of  college  during  the' previous  term,  under 
a  mistaken  decision  of  the  Faculty  that  it  would  be  "  practically  hopeless  ** 
for  me  to  attempt  winning  my  degree  with  the  class ;  and  I  was  therefore  at 
a  great  disadvantage  in  respect  to  my  studies,  and  was  bound  by  every  con- 
sideration of  pride  to  so  succeed  in  them  as  to  demonstrate  the  un justness  of 
the  official  judgment  which  had  been  pronounced  against  me.  As  one  of 
the  editors  of  "  the  oldest  college  magazine  in  the  world,"  I  had  vowed  to 
my  four  sceptical  associates  that  (in  spite  of  their  expectation  that  the  edito- 
rial board  would  be  out-of-pocket,  at  the  end  of  the  year,  as  all  previous  boards 
had  been,  ** in  return  for  the  honor  of  the  position")  the  magazine  must  be 
made  to  yield  a  profit  for  our  year's  work  upon  it ;  and  to  bring  this  thing  to 
pass  required  that  I  should  make  my  face  hateful  to  all  the  underclassmen, 
by  the  relentless  persistency  with  which  I  pursued  them  for  "  subscriptions." 
At  the  same  time  it  was  incumbent  upon  me  to  persuade  them  to  give  an  ad- 
ditional proof  of  patriotism  by  helping  pay  the  printer's  bill  for  my  "  index 
to  the  first  thirty-three  years  of  the  magazine," — ^the  indulgence  in  which 
monumental  compilation  had  been  the  immediate  cause  of  my  failure  to  pass 
the  Faculty's  examination,  six  months  before.  Finally,  as  the  class  had 
elected  me  to  deliver  their  "  valedictory  poem  "  on  Presentation  Day,  I  was 
under  bonds  to  **  work  the  rhyming  dictionary  "  industriously,  in  the  hope  of 
grinding  out  something  that  might  do  no  discredit  to  that  honorable  occa- 
sion ;  and  it  was  also  my  duty  to  compile  for  public  reading  then  a  "  four 
years'  personal  history  of  the  First  Division,"  whose  mention  of  each  of  the 
fifty  men  who  had  belonged  to  my  own  quarter  of  the  class  should  be  in  such 
form  as  to  amuse  the  others  without  giving  any  individual  offense. 

All  these  tasks  combined  to  form  a  heavier  load  than  my  young  shoul- 
ders had  ever  before  attempted  to  carry ;  and  I  resolutely  put  away  all  hope 
of  indulging  in  any  other  kind  of  amusement  than  the  demonstration  that 
they  were  strong  enough  to  carry  it.  I  hardened  my  heart,  therefore,  against 
the  lively  table-talk  at  the  eatin^lub,  discussing  the  great  velocipedic  furor 
which  had  taken  sudden  possession  of  the  college  and  the  city.  Entrancing 
tales  were  told  me  daily  of  the  comic  and  exciting  scenes  to  be  witnessed  at 
the  rink,  and  of  the  wonderful  possibilities  which  even  the  most  sedate  and 
cautious  of  citizens  attributed  to  this  new  means  of  locomotion.  Great  was 
my  temptation,  and  it  increased  from  week  to  week,  as  the  excitement  inten- 
sified and  drew  one  classmate  after  another  into  the  vortex ;  but  still  I  said : 
"  I  will  not  go ;  I  cannot  afford  the  time."  At  last,  however,  four  weeks 
from  the  day  when  the  term  opened,  my  curiosity  got  the  better  of  my  judg- 
ment, and  I  "  casually  dropped  in,  at  a  riding  school  on  State  street,  just  to 


BONE-SHAKEH  DA  VS. 


393 


tee  what  the  thing  was  like,  anyhow."  It  was  at  half-past  8  o'clock,  on  (he 
evening  of  Thursday,  February  4, 1869,  that  njy  eyes  thus  for  the  first  time 
feaated  themselves  upon  the  alluring  outlines  of  a  bone-shaker.  My  daily 
journal  of  that  date  records  the  simple  fact  without  commenl  or  explanation ; 
but  I  think  it  not  unlikely  that  the  ultimate  excuse  which  I  gave  my  con- 
science, for  this  gratification  of  curiosity,  was  the  need  of  doing  something 
unusual  to  dispel  the  gloom  which  oppressed  me  on  account  of  the  death, 
lea  days  before,  of  my  much-loved  bull-dog.  At  all  events,  I  did  certainly 
require  some  lively  and  cheerful  experience,  to  alleviate  the  memory  of  that 
melancholy  event;  and  the  scenes  of  a  velocipede  rink  were  said  to  supply, 
by  common  consent,  "the  greatest  fun  a-going."  My  fancy  seems  to  have 
been  captivated  at  once.  The  new  love  came  on  with  a  rush,  as  a  solace  for 
ihe  love  that  was  dead.  The  record  shows  that,  on  the  following  forenoon, "  I 
went  in  to  watch  the  velocipedes,  a  little  while,"  on  my  return  from  correcting 
magazine  proofs  at  the  printing  office,  which  was  adjacent;  and  that,  the  very 
next  day,  I  deliberately  "  went  down  to  the  hall,  and  practiced  with  a  machine 
for  fifteen  minutes,  after  waiting  there  two  hours  for  a  chance."  This  re- 
mark gives  an  Idea  of  the  briskness  of  the  business  which  the  owners  of 
rinks  were  doing ;  for  not  only  was  every  velocipede  kept  continuously  in 
use,  at  the  rate  of  "  a  cent  a  minute, "  hut  crowds  of  eager  patrons  waited 
impatiently  to  "take  their  quarter-hour  turns,"  or  even  gave  a  premium  for 
the  "chances"  of  those  who  bad  registered  in  advance.  The  enormous 
waste  of  time  thus  involved,  in  the  process  of  "  learning  to  tide,"  brought 
me  back  again  to  a  realizing  sense  of  the  truth  that  I  simply  could  net  afford 
to  acquire  that  most  delightful  accomplishment.  I  vowed  that  this  third  visit  to 
the  rink  should  be  my  last,  and  that  I  would  banish  from  my  breast  all  ambi- 
tion for  winning  the  mastery  over  this  exasperatingly  insolent  but  marvel' 
ously  seductive  mechanism.  I  relied  upon  the  axiom,  "  out  of  sight — out  of 
mind,"  to  cure  the  foolish  passion  which  had  been  awakened  within  me. 
"But  it  seemed  otherwise  to  the  gods."  The  velocipede  wouldn't  slay  out  of 
sighL  On  the  contrary,  within  three  days  from  the  taking  of  my  solemn  vow 
to  shun  the  deadly  allurements  of  the  rink,  it  boldly  emerged  from  the  deco- 

an  daunting  it- 
my  thoughts  to 
enthusiasm  to 
ptioQ  in  books 
proaching  iron 
w  and  actually 
my  heart  was 
id  at  the  same 

life  has  always 
has  never  been 


394         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

a  time,  save  this  one,  when  a  consciousness  of  my  inability  to  do  a  thing, 
which  I  saw  another  person*  doing,  has  had  power  to  make  me  unhappy. 
Though  the  ability  to  ride  a  horse,  to  sail  a  boat,  to  row  skilfully,  to  run 
swiftly,  to  throw  or  catch  a  ball,  to  box,  to  fence,  to  swing,  to  dance,  to  jump, 
or  to  vault — ^always  seemed  to  me,  in  each  case,  a  very  pleasant  possession, 
my  own  lack  of  it  never  gave  me  an  instant's  uneasiness.     But  here  at  last 
was  an  athletic  accomplishment  whose  attainment  seemed  superlatively  de- 
sirable 1    The  idea  of  existing  powerless  any  longer  in  the  presence  of  the 
two-wheeler  seemed  personally  ignominious.     I  could  not  bear  to  breathe 
the  same  air  with  men  whose  victory  over  it  seemed  to  brand  me  as  their  in- 
ferior.   So,  seven  days  from  the  date  of  my  vow  of  total  abstinence  from  th« 
rink,  I  rushed  again  to  its  embrace.    The  record  says :    **  I  run  one  of  tlv 
machines  for  an  hour,  without  learning  anything  at  all.     Horribly  hot  wor 
Cool  off  in  time  for  supper,  and  at  lo  p.  m.  take  another  half  hour  on  t 
veloc,  with  no  better  result  than  before.    Next  morning  (Sunday),  when  t 
chapel  bell  summons  me  to  put  on  my  clothes,  I  discover  that  the  seat  of 
trousers  has  been  torn  completely  out.**     Monday's  report  adds  :    "  Inst 
of  usual  evening  exercise  at  the  gym.,  I  chase  up  the  veloc.  for  an  hour, 
'  learn  how  *  just  a  little.'*    Immediately  following  this  preliminary  su 
tion  of  victory,  comes  the  triumphant  entry:     "Tuesday,  February  . 
rush  right  down  to  the  velocipede  hall,  after  morning  recitation,  am 
there  for  an  hour.    Eureka  I  Eureka  I     I  'm  really  a  velocipedist  at  last 
indulged  in  two  rides  the  next  day,  and  engaged  a  "  Pickering  "for  a  si 
spin  on  the  early  morn  of  the  i8th ;  but,  as  a  heavy  snow-storm  raged 
trundled  the  hobby  to  the  gymnasium,  and  circled  delightedly  thert 
hour, — repeating  the  experience  on  the  19th.    On  the  20th,  which  wa 
day,  I  had  my  first  out-door  riding,  and  made  trial  of  the  concrete 
the  same  public  green  where  Pierre  Lallement,  the  inventor  of  "  t 
idea,"  had  given  an  exhibition  of  his  mechanism,  nearly  three  yen 
ai  detailed  on  p.  140.    "To  think  that  only  last  Saturday  I  could 
velocipede  1    It  seems  a  hundred  years  since  thenl"      Such  i? 
which  shows  the  degree  of  my  progress  within  a  fortnight  after  vt 
stain  from  the  rink.    The  suspension  of  recitations  on  Washinc,- 
day  (32(i)  and  on  the  "day  of  fasting  and  prayer  for  colleges'' 
mc  opportunity  for  "  riding  all  around  the  city,"  and  the  record  i 
the  lalh  and  17th  of  March  and  the  3d  and  13th  of  April,  on 
day  I  went  home  for  a  fortnight's  vacation.    Exclamations  expr- 
Joy  And  delight  in  the  sport  are  sandwiched  in  among  the  n. 
thcuc  Rultt  occasions,  and  of  the  intermediate  shorter  rides.     ^ 
than  four  miles  distant  from  the  college,  is  the  most  remot 
(April  j)  In  my  wheeling  record,  and  the  latest  date  is  May  15 
Hiipppi  tl(lc*H  upon  the  flag-stone  walks  of  the  college-yard  are  t 
th0  wprk  which  ended  then ;  and  it  is  to  be  noted  that  my  • 
with  tl»o  machine  In  New  Haven  happened  just  three  mom 


as  I 
'  *er   of 


396         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

recorded  in  my  journal  of  March  5 :    "So  you  says  you  pay  me  noting  ?    Vcr* 
well  I    I  '11  sue  you,  if  it  costs  me  five  tousand  dollar  I " 

On  the  face  of  the  facts,  as  here  minutely  presented  by  the  chief  actor  in 
them,  there  seems  little  excuse  for  making  this  a  *'  celebrated  case " ;  bat 
there  are  vast  latent  possibilities  in  "journalism  " ;  and  the  short  story  which 
these  facts  gave  a  local  newspaper  an  excuse  for  setting  afloat  (with  eight  er- 
rors in  less  than  that  number  of  lined)  appealed  to  two  circumstances  which 
ensured  for  it  a  currency  quite  unexampled  among  the  "  velocipede  items  '*  of 
that  period.    In  the  first  place,  as  the  story  appeared  at  the  exact  time  when 
the  velocipedic  furor  was  at  its  height,  all  over  the  Union,  the  newspapers 
were  then  most  eager  to  print  any  possible  paragraph  which  concerned  or  il- 
lustrated it;  and,  in  the  second  place,  the  newspapers  are  always  glad  to  give 
prominence  to  gossip  concerning  an  undergraduate  of  a  famous  college,  es- 
pecially when  it  represents  him  in  an  unfortunate  or  humiliating  light.    They 
do  this  for  the  same  reason  that  English  papers  prattle  about  the  personal 
errors  and  mishaps  of  "  the  nobility  and  gentry  " :  because  they  believe  that 
"  the  masses  "  like  to  read  such  things  about  "  their  betters."    A  great  Amer- 
ican college  community  exhibits,  as  regards  the  personal  relations  of  the  stu- 
dents to  one  another,  the  nearest  approximation  to  an  ideal  democracy 
("liberty,  equality,  fraternity  ")  that  exists  anywhere  in  the  world;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  only  real  and  permanent  aristocracy  which  can  be  found  in 
the  American  social  system  is  its  mass  of  undergraduate  collegians.     We 
possess  no  other  well-defined  body  of  men  who  are  oblivious  of  money-mak- 
ing, or  who  are  able  to  maintain  their  personal  amusements  and  customs,  on  a 
scheme  of  exclusion,  in  a  perfectly  complete  and  unapproachable  world  of 
their  own.    Individual  connection  with  this  aristocracy  must  terminate  in 
four  years,  but  the  thing  itself  continues  unbroken  through  all  the  ages. 
After  graduation,  the  ex-collegian  descends  at  once  to  his  proper  level  in  the 
world  of  common-place, — ^whether  it  be  to  drive  a  horse-car,  for  his  daily 
bread,  or  to  drive  a  "  tally-ho  coach,"  for  proclaiming  his  membership  in  the 
sham  aristocracy  of  wealth  and  fashion; — ^but,  whatever  happens  to  him,  he 
knows  that  Fate  can  never  rob  him  of  the  consciousness  of  having  once  **  be^ 
longed  to  the  real  nobility,"  universally  so  recognized  by  all  Americans. 
Full  proof  of  this  universal  recognition  has  been  supplied  me  by  a  quarter 
century's  acquaintance  with  the  newspapers ;  and  no  one  can  fail  to  be  con- 
vinced of  it  who  will  study  with  any  care  the  philosophy  of  their  manage- 
ment. The  rakish  rhetoric  of  the  illustrated  police  gazettes,  just  as  unmistak- 
ably as  the  pious  platitudes  of  the  religious  weeklies,  bears  testimony  to  this 
same  truth,  which  the  satirists  and  humorists  of  the  daily  press  continually 
trade  upon.    All  journalists  understand  that  the  trick  of  connecting  their 
jokes,  or  pungent  paragraphs,  or  solemn  homilies,  or  scandalous  stories,  with 
the  name  of  some  college  well-known  to  their  readers,  is  the  best  attainable 
trick  for  compelling  their  interest  in  the  same.    Of  course,  the  names  that 
are  most  frequently  taken  in  vain  are  those  of  the  colleges  of  widest  repute ; 


BONESHAKER  DA  YS. 


397 


n  the  smaller  ones  form  a  basis  for  considerable  lying  and  misrepre- 
n  the  colomns  of  the  local  papers.  It  is  a  traditional  complaint  in 
undergraduate  journals,  that  collegians  are  the  only  class  of  American  yoath 
whose  harmless  horse-play  and  petty  escapades  are  systematically  paraded  in 
the  public  press  and  solemnly  discoursed  upon  by  the  heavy  moralists;  and 
whose  aihletiii  pastimes  (though  notoriously  confined  to  a  fe«  hours  of  leisure) 
are  habitually  joked  about,  by  the  public  humorists,  aa  if  comprising  the 
whole  sum  of  college  life.  These  complaints  are  entirely  just,  but  the  evils 
complained  of  are  a  natural  part  oE  the  situation ;  they  merely  show  the  re- 
lationship which  newspaper-makers,  in  a  free  country,  necessarily  bear  to  any 
recognized  aristocracy.  When  the  proprietor  of  one  of  the  illustrated  crimi- 
nal weeklies  pictures  "  fifty  students  of  Harvard  "  as  the  patrons  of  some 
imaginary  cock-fight,  he  gives  conclusive  proof  of  his  belief  that  that  is  the 
noblest  name  in  America  to  conjure  with,  as  a  means  of  stimulating  the  in- 
terest of  even  the  most  ignorant  of  readers  in  his  obscene  rubbish. 

Perhaps  this  prelude  is  longer  than  necessary  to  account  for  the  vogue 
which  my  "  horse  accident "  had  among  the  editors,  but  it  will  serve  to  em- 
phasize the  fact  that  the  paragraph  made  one  of  the  most  remarkable  runs 
oa  record.  I  believe  there  was  no  sizable  city  between  Bangor  and  San 
Francisco  whose  newspapers  did  not  give  it  some  sort  of  a  show.  The  lying 
lines  exasperated  me  at  first,  but  I  afterwards  took  a  sort  of  perverse  pleas- 
ure in  watching  them  "  limp  from  scissors  to  scissors  "  across  the  continent. 
I  watched  them  thus  through  the  files  of  the  college  reading-room,  but,  as  I 
resisted  the  base  temptation  to  indulge  in  any  surreptitious  snipping  there- 
from, and  only  purchased  such  few  papers  as  came  in  my  way,  the  number  of 
distinct  specimens  which  I  find  in  my  scrap-book,  and  now  literally  repro- 
duce, is  only  nine.  The  first  of  these  is  the  original  story,  containing  eight 
misstatements  of  fact,  and  the  rest  were  all  copied  from  or  based  upon  it  t 
regret  my  neglect  in  failing  to  preserve  the  names  of  the  papers  to  which  the 
several  extracts  should  be  accredited;  but  the  collection,  even  as  it  stands, 
has  a  certain  representative  value,  as  exhibiting  the  average  trustworthiness  of 
"journalism."  The  ninth  and  final  extract  which  I  reproduce  will  be  recog- 
nized by  all  experienced  journalists  as  a  really  fine  specimen  of  what  i* 
known  in  a  newspaper  office  as  "intelligent  condensation," — (he  art  of  re- 
casting the  substance  of  a  current  story  into  the  fewest  possible  words.  The 
paragrapher  concerned  in  this  special  case,  instead  of  making  a  slovenly  sur- 
render of  "  eight  lines  for  the  eight  lies,  "  bad  ihe  genius  to  "  boil  down  the 


398  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

I  remember  that  one  of  the  rinks  kept  on  exhibition  a  venerable  **^  veloss,^ 
of  the  sort  that  had  seen  service  in  New  Haven  during  the  rage  of  fifty  years 
before ;  and  it  was  such  a  terribly  clumsy  affair  that  the  bone-shaker  seemed 
ideally  light  and  graceful  in  comparison.  A  fair  description  of  it  is  given  in 
the  following  badly-written  letter,  dated  at  Yale,  July  14,  1819:  "  The  've- 
locipede '  has  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  students.  It  is  a  small  carriage 
with  one  wheel  placed  before  the  other,  and  a  saddle  between  them,  on  which 
the  rider  sits,  and,  by  touching  his  feet  to  the  ground,  sets  the  wheels  in  mo- 
tion, and  keeps  them  rolling  by  now  and  then  lightly  touching  the  ground. 
Some  will  ride  at  the  rate  of  ten  miUs  an  hour,  I  have  rode  it  a  number  of 
times,  and  can  advance  six  or  seven  miles  an  hour.  It  requires  a  level,  hard- 
beaten  road."  The  YaU  Courani  of  February  15,  1869,  had  a  column  sketch, 
"  Half-Hours  With  the  Best  Velocipedes,"  descriptive  of  the  editor's  experi- 
ence. The  first  words  were :  "  We  caught  the  fever,"  and  the  last :  "  Lon^ 
live  It-of-the-swif t-f oot  I "  From  the  same  paper  of  a  week  later,  I  extract 
the  following :  *' Velocipedomania. — Every  student  and  every  other  man 
seems  to  have  velocipede  on  the  brain.  Two  halls  have  been  opened  in  thr 
city  for  beginners,  without  meeting  the  great  demand ;  and  Hoad  promise* 
that  a  third  (the  basement  of  Music  Hall)  shall  be  in  readiness  for  thc- 
knights  of  the  bicycle  by  Thursday  evening.  The  proposition  for  turning 
Brothers  and  Linonia  (debating-society  halls)  into  one  commodious  veloc. 

worth  $300,  and  calls  upon  the  Janior  for  that  amount     So  much  for  the  velocir>ede  man!. 
We  expect  items  of  a  similar  character  daily,  soon." — New  Haven  Journal  and  Courier,  F. 
26,  1869.    (3)  "  The  velocipede  mania  has  fairly  taken  hold  of  the  dty.    Four  rinks  are  a 
stantly  filled,  day  and  evening,  by  novices  learning  how  to  manage  the  machine,    A  huge  nti 
her  of  those  engaged  in  the  exercise  are  Yale  students,  many  of  whom  appear  upon  the  str- 
with  the  vehicles  and  ride  them  with  much  skill.    On  Wednesday  a  Junior,  in  crossing  a  sm 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  ran  into  a  horse,  causing  the  horse  to  throw  himself.    The  h<  -r 
on  attempting  to  rise  sustained  injuries  which  it  is  thoi^ht  will  necessitate  his  deadi,  and  * 
owner  calls  upon  the  student  for  $300  damages."    (3)  "A  velocipedist,  who  conld  not  con: 
his  '  animal '  attempted  to  cross  a  street  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  Wednesday,  a4tfa,  » 
he  collided  with  a  horse,  throwing  the  beast  down ;  and,  as  the  horse  attempted  to  get  up 
was  so  injured  that  he  will  have  to  be  killed.    The  owner  wants  the  Junior  to  pony  up  $■•<* 
(4)  "A  velocipedist  ran  his  machine  into  a  horse  while  crossing  a  street  recently.    The  h 
was  thrown  down,  and  in  attempting  to  get  up  was  so  badly  injured  as  to  be  worthless, 
owner  of  the  horse  now  wants  #300  damages."    (5)  "A  student  riding  a  velocipede  in  ' 
Haven  recently  ran  into  a  horse,  throwing  the  animal  down,  and,  it  b  supposed,  fatally  ii<" 
it.    The  owner  values  the  horse  at  $300,  and  calls  upon  the  student  for  that  amount    W- 
pect  to  have  to  chronicle  several  accidents  of  this  nature  before  the  velocipede  season  c. 
If  the  velodpedestrians  get  too  thick  on  the  sidewalks,  the  other  pedestrians  will  have  to 
vide  themselves  with  stout  canes  for  emergencies."    (6)  "A  Yale  student  nm  his  velos. 
against  and  threw  down  a  valuable  horse  in  New  Haven,  the  other  day,  and  the  owner  . 
$300  from  the  unlucky  rider,  because  the  horse  b  fatally  injured."    (7)  "A  vekidpedist  h  ' 
Haven,  last  week,  while  crossing  a  street,  ran  into  a  horse  and  knocked  htm  down.    Th^  ' 
was  so  injured  by  the  fall  that  the  owner  was  obliged  to  kill  him,  and  he  now  holds  the  v 
pede  rider  responuble  to  the  extent  of  $300."    (8)  "A  Yale  student,  the  other  day, 
peded  aqi^ainst  a  valuable  horse.    The  animal  died,  and  the  owner  claims  #300  from  i}>> 
velodpedbt."     (9}  "  A  New  ffavem  velocipedid  ran  over  a  horse  amd kWed kim,^* 


BONE-SHAKER  DA  YS.  399 

pede  arena  bas  been  actually  agitated  about  coUege  for  some  time,  since  the 
;q>peanuice  of  [he  fascinating  bicyculars.  Bring  on  your '  gloriooa  memories,' 
ye  babblera  o£  the  fonun,  for  these  Philistines  be  upon  thee ;  these  Gauls  as- 
sault your  very  senate  chaint«r;  these  'wabblers'  mean  business.  Already 
have  "^tfervida  rota  wakened  unwonted  echoes  about  the  ears  of  the  grim 
academical  ancestors  in  Alumni  Hall.  Neither  bolts  nor  oaken  doors  have 
barred  their  entrance  to  those  august  presences.  How,  then,  shall  the 
Simsy  trappings  of  your  bellowing-places  avail  to  awe  them  }  We  think  the 
mania  is  rather  subsiding,  however,  though  one-,  two-,  three-  and  four-wheeled 
vehicles  have  made  their  appearance  (the  one-wheeler  is  a  wheel-barrow). 
The  best  time  on  record  ia  to  the  boat-house  in  twelve  minutes,  and  back; 
distance,  a  mile  and  a  quarter."  The  latter  remark  is  ambigunus,  but,  as  I  do 
not  believe  that  any  Vale  bone-shaker  ever  made  the  round  trip  of  two  miles 
and  a  half  in  twelve  minutes,  I  suppose  the  reference  is  to  the  downward 
ride  simply.  Even  on  that  interpretation,  it  was  a  faster  one  than  I  recollect 
taking.  No  races  took  place  at  New  Haven,  either  in  the  rinks  oron  the  side- 
walks ;  but  first  prizes  for  "  the  most  skilful  riding  "  were  won  by  two  students 
in  rink  competitions,  and  one  of  these  winners  exhibited  his  skill  at  the  ath- 
letic exhibition  given  in  the  college  gymnasium  about  the  middle  of  March. 

The  truth  of  the  opening  remark  of  the  present  chapter,  concerning  the 
fallibility  of  memory,  is  again  illustrated  by  the  fact  that,  after  writing  those 
pages  which  tell  how  I  for  four  weeks  refrained  from  taking  a  look  at  the 
hobby  which  had  aroused  my  classmates'  enthusiasm,  I  lind,  on  turning  to 
my  own  printed  chronicle  of  those  times,  that  the  actual  period  of  my  resist- 
ance to  temptation  was  only  four  days  I    Though  the  craze  had  captured  New 
York  on  New  Year's,  itvras  exactly  a  month  in  reaching  New  Haven, — prob- 
ably because  the  metropolitan  demand  for  machines  prevented  the  manufact- 
urers from   taking  any  outside  orders.     In  assigning  "January  "  as  the  month 
of  considerable  college  table-Ealk  on  the  subject,  my  recollection  may  not 
have  been  entirely  at  fault,  however,  because  the  current  newspaper  gossip 
must  have  ittracted  some  attention,  and  some  o£  the  many  undergraduates 
who  spent  their  vacation  in  the  big  city  must  have  brought  back  stories  of 
the  "wheelomania"  which  prevaile 
graph  on  the  subjecl  is  this  (written 
I  first  saw  a  bone-shaker)  1     "  Tlie 
among  the  Seniors,  who  find  in  its  I 
amusement."     The  progress  and  de 
cled  in  three  successive  monlhly  i: 
which  I  will  now  present  extracts,  1 
written  by  myself,  and  the  verses  h: 
(Jnly,  i883,pp.3s6.3")-    The  rec 
representing  in  a  general  way  what 
every  other  considerable  college,  ai 
the  entire  land.     In  my  tour*,  it  it 


400  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLj 

of  great  diversity  in  character  and  occupation,  but  resembling  eacl 
spect  to  being  about  forty  years  oljd — ^who  are  inspired  by  the  sigl- 
bicycle  to  recount  to  me  the  comic  experiences  of  their  "bone-sl.. 

"  By  all  odds,  the  liveliest  things  of  the  month  have  been  the  velodpedes, 
selves  ought  to  make  February,  1869,  famous  in  our  history.    They  came  to  to^^ 
of  the  month.    The  old   church  on  the  comer  of  State  and  Court  sts.  -wa<- 
riding-room,  and  beginners  were  'at  it/  night  amd  day,  for  the  space  of  a  \> 
shop-keepers    below  objected  to  having   the  plaster  from  the    walls  sprink. 
longer,  and  so  the  rink  was  closed.    On  the  loth,  two  clerks  from  Springfieki 
school  in  Literary  Hall,  on  State  st. ;  but  they,  too,  at  the  end  of  a  very  succc  ~ 
obliged  to  'move  on,'  and  so  went  home  with  their  naachines.    Thatcher  &  L 
at  DeGarmo's  old  dancing  hall,  303  Chapel  st,  for  the  week  ending  on  the 
then  forced  out  of  the  building,  as  the  others  had  been  from  the  other  places,  < 
much  falling  plaster.    Their  present  riding-room,  comer  of  Crown  and  Park  si 
those  already  mentioned,  and  altogether  superior  to  the  only  other  one  nc  ■ 
Hoadley's,  established  in  the  basement  of  Music  Hall,  on  the  18th.    Hoad.,  ) 
of  the  first  to  introduce  the  'veloss,'  and  had  several  machines  at  his  stoi* 
door  usage,  within  a  day  or  two  of  the  opening  of  the  earliest  rink.    Eli  Hill 
example.    Thomas  Brothers  have  several  machines  to  let,  at  their  headquar: 
House,  on  State  st. ;  and  Oatman,  at  the  Park  House,  on  Chapel  St.,  opposit-*  - 
latest  claimant  for  bicycular  profits.    A  cent  a  minute  is  the  usual  tax,  thoug1< 
chines  for  out-door  use  at  a  half-dollar  an  hour,  and  possibly  the  terms  of  < 
are  as  low.    The  thirty  or  more  velocipedes  thus  at  the  service  of  the  public 
use,  and  earning  a  neat  little  sum  for  their  owners.    The  two  rinks  dose  at  : 
evening,  and,  unless  the  weather  prevents,  ardent  velocipedists  are  driving  a*  • 
the  different  streets,  until  that  hour.     Machines  can  be  engaged  for  a  single- 
vance ;  and  he  must  get  up  very  early  in  the  moming  who  would  be  sure  01 
for  the  following  day.    The  walks  on  the  green  are  naturally  the  great  re<;r  • 
sidewalk  at  the  west  etxl  of  Chapel  st.  is  the  best  course  we  have  yet  discovr 
and  Dwight  sts.  offer  good  facilities.    A  great  many  people,  who,  if  they  hav> 
by  the  bicycle,  imagine  they  might  have  been  or  may  be,  and  who  in  any  ca: 
ers  enjoy  themselves,  have  lodged  complaints  with  the  authorities,  and  it  H 
city  fathers  may  order  velocipedes  to  be  kept  from  the  sidewalks  altogeth- 
action  has  yet  been  taken,  in  spite  of  the  rumors.    The  machines  in  the  ridip- 
poor  ones — '  good  enough  for  beginners,  you  know  '—and  cost  from  $50  to  *' 
for  out-door  use,  patented  by  Pickering,  Wood,  Monod,  Witty  and  others,  .^ 
are  supposed  to  be  wonh  from  I75  to  Iras.    ^^  si^  the  names  in  the  ord< 
pears  to  us,  though  many  account  Wood's  the  best  machine.     Every  one  is  v 
to  fall  before  purchasing,  and  no  college  man  yet  boasts  a  bicycle  of  his  own 
arc  all  velodpedtsts,  with  the  disgraceful  exception  of  a  single  individual, 
tends  to  admire  the  ungainly  three-wheeled  machine,  which  by  its  occasional 
the  unqualified  disgust  of  all  who  are  capable  of  appreciating  better  th'*^ 
called  'skatorial  queen'  mounts  a  two>wheeler  in  going  through  with  h. 
act,'  at  the  'calico  ball,'  next  week."    (March  i,  1869,  pp.  355,  256.) 

"  Spite  of  the  bad  weather,  velocipedes  have  held  their  own,  during  * 
have  recompensed  their  owners.    The  rink  on  Park  st.  has  just  been  supp' 
mg  and  other  improvements,  and  b  equipped  with  a  dozen  machines,  it 
ones.    The  proprietor  is  also  preparing  a  quarter-mile  track,  in  the  n(>' 
Rock,  which  is  expected  to  be  in  readiness  for  out-door  riders  and  racers 
May.    Going  down  Crown  st.  we  come  to  Hoadley's  new  rink,  opened  ^f* 
mcnt  of  Music  Hall.     This  b  also  supplied  with  a  dozen  machines,  ar 
tage  of  the  others  in  the  matter  of  location,  but  it  affords  no  special  h 


l.M 


402  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

"  As  for  velocipedes,  we  can  only  tell,  what  we  never  expected  to  have  to  tell,  of  their  dy- 
ing days.  Alas  1  Poor  Yorick  I  A  dire  pronun9iamento  of  the  city  fathers  ('  No  person  shall 
use  or  propel  by  riding  thereon  any  velocipede  along  or  upon  any  paved  walk  in  said  city,  formed 
for  the  convenience  of  foot  passengers,  under  penalty  of  $25 ')  has  sent  you  to  an  untimely 
grave.  Many  disciples  mourn  their  loss ;  but  columns  full  of  complaints  have  availed  not  for 
repealing  the  obnoxious  article.  A  couple  of  bold  riders,  who  were  arrested  on  the  green, 
owed  their  release  to  the  fact  that  paved  walks  were  specified ;  but  this  quibble  will  no  longer 
prevent  strict  justice  from  being  meted  out  to  all  offenders.  Anticipations  of  bright  moonlight 
rides  on  the  green,  on  summer  evenings,  have  faded  beneath  the  cruel  blow.  The  best  rinks 
with  their  best  machines  at  35  cents  per  hour  cannot  rescue  the  dying-out  enthusiasm.  Monods, 
Pickerings,  and  Hartfords  are  temptingless.  The  large  Velocipedrome  at  the  Beach  House, 
Savin  Rock,  is  not  realizing  the  golden  expectations  of  its  builders.  Eli  has  grown  thin  from 
the  total '  standstill '  of  his  velocipede  stodc.  The  comer  rink  at  Park  and  Crown  sts.  offers 
big  inducements ;  but  few  are  enticed.  Elm  City  still  azures  us  that  his  building  is  warranted 
to  stand  for  ages ;  but  few  attempt  to  test  the  accuracy  of  his  statements.  Here  and  there  a  soli- 
tary rider  passes  along  the  college  yard, — sole  remnants  of  your  former  greatness, — sole  proofs 
of  what  you  m^ht  have  been.  Nor  is  the  sky  overcast  with  circles  of  hope.  No  more  will 
your  followers  'see  stars.'  Signs  point  to  a  premature  death.  Your  days  are  numbered,  O 
Velocipedus !    The  LU.  has  done  with  you. 

'Green  be  the  turf  above  thee,  friend  of  my  earlier  days ; 

None  knew  thee  but  to  love  thee ;  none  named  thee  but  to  praise.' " 

(May  aa,  1869,  p.  368.) 

A  little  book  called  "  The  Velocipede  ;  its  History,  Varieties  and  Prac- 
tice," by  J.  T.  Goddard  (N.  Y.:  Hurd  &  Houghton;  pp.  107;  large  type; 
thirteen  coarse  wood-cuts),  is  the  only  such  memorial  which  the  mania  pro- 
duced here  ;  and  its  preface — dated  at  Cambridge,  March  20,  1869 — assumes 
that  no  book  on  the  subject  had  then  been  published  abroad.  Though  has- 
tily ilung  together,  without  literary  skill, — a  mere  jumble  and  hodge-podge  of 
unaccredited  gleanings  from  the  newspapers,  and  from  the  circulars  of  man- 
ufacturers and- inventors, — it  serves  well  to  show  how  extensive  the  craze 
really  was,  and  to  point  the  contrast  between  that  noisy  furor  and  the  quiet 
advent,  a  decade  later,  of  the  sort  of  cycling  which  is  destined  to  flourish  for- 
ever. The  history  of  the  wheel  in  England  exhibits  no  such  contrasts.  The 
London  authority  quoted  in  the  first  of  the  fine-type  extracts  appended  to 
this  paragraph  (reprinted  also  in  Harper's  Weekly^  March  30,  1869,  p.  189) 
represents  John  Bull  at  that  time  as  an  amused  spectator  of  Brother  Jona- 
than's antics.  The  British  bone-shaker  days  had  no  such  wildly  impetuous 
and  frenziedly  hopeful  beginning ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they  had  no  such 
sudden  and  ignominious  ending.  Though  the  American  carriage-makers  all 
dropped  the  veloce  in  a  hurry,  with  a  feeling  of  contempt  for  their  own  folly 
in  having  interrupted  their  proper  business  in  behalf  of  such  a  deceptive  toy, 
the  less-excitable  Englishmen  kept  pegging  away  at  it,  both  on  the  road  and 
in  the  machine-shop,  until  the  modem  bicycle  was  evolved.  Velocipeding 
never  entirely  ceased  in  that  country,  in  spite  of  the  reaction  which  followed 
the  impetus  of  1868-9 »  ^^^  neither  there  nor  here  nor  anywhere  in  the  world 
has  any  "  craze  "  or  "  mania ''  ever  been  developed  in  regard  to  the  modern 
bicycle.    This  gift  of  all  the  ages  comes  to  all  countries  quietly,  as  If  001^ 


BONESHAKER  DA  YS, 


403 


scious  of  its  power  and  peimanency.    It  causes  no  general  fuss  or  ferment ; 
it  asserts  its  supremacy  soberly ;  but  it  comes  to  stay. 

The  furor  has  migraited  from  France  to  our  brethren  across  the  Atlantic,  passing  over  us. 
The  go-ahead  vehicle  is  exactly  suited  to  American  ideas.  Schools,  with  the  imposing  name  of 
Vtlocinasiumt^  for  teaching  the  young  idea  how  to  gyrate,  are  being  established ;  races  are 
being  rolled ;  men  and  boys  are  whizzing  here,  there  and  everywhere,  at  a  speed  of  twelve  miles 
an  hour.  Inventors  are  improving  the  machines,  and  are  making  them  wholesale,  the  supply  at 
present  falling  short  of  the  demand.  Our  turn  may  come  yet.  Or  have  we  had  it  ?  There 
was  a  considerable  rage  for  velocipedes  in  England  some  thirty  [fifty  ?]  years  ago.  There  may 
be  those  living  who  can  recollect  seeing  no  less  a  man  than  Michael  Faraday  spinning  one  up 
Hampstead  Hill. — The  GenHeman^s  AtdgasuUt  London,  February,  1869. 

The  two  best  and  largest  rinks  in  the  United  States  are  to  be  found  at  Harvard  Square, 
Cani|)ridge.  One  of  them  has  12,000  sq.  ft.  of  floor,  and  25  good  machines.  The  other,  built 
by  J.  C.  Stiles,  is  in  the  form  of  an  amphitheatre,  and  has  a  circular  course  of  a  little  less  than 
an  eighth  of  a  mile.  Only  part  of  the  track  is  under  cover.  At  night  this  rink  is  brilliantly 
lighted,  and  the  scene  is  at  once  novel  and  inspiring.  Scores  of  riders  rush  madly  after  each 
other  at  break-neck  speed,  round  and  round  the  arena.  We  have  seen  an  expert  wheel  over  the 
course  in  17  sec,  which  is  nearly  as  good  time  as  any  recorded  abroad,  and  better  than  any 
heretofore  made  in  this  country.  Harvard  students  crowd  these  rinks ;  the  billiard-halls  and 
other  places  of  resort  are  deserted,  and  all  are  eager  votaries  of  the  fascinating  art.  The  fever 
is  not  confined  to  the  Eastern  and  Middle  States,  but  rages  throughout  the  South  and  West. 
The  Hanlon  Brothers,  well  known  as  gymnasts,  have  the  largest  hall  in  New  York,  with  45 
madiines,  and,  at  their  i^cent '  velocipede  reception  and  hop '  exhibited  many  daring  feats  upon 
the  bicycle.  Other  gentlemen  afterwards  gave  proof  of  their  skill,  among  them  Charles  A. 
Dana,  editor  of  the  Sunt  who  is  an  expert  rider. — Goddard's  "  The  Velocipede,"  pp.  93,  95. 

Several  months  have  passed  since  we  heard  of  a  two-wheeled  contrivance,  called  bieircU 
or  veloc«y  by  which  it  was  possible  for  an  active  Frenchman  to  traverse  ten  miles  of  the  streets 
of  Paris  in  a  single  hour.  The  fever  which  raged  so  high  there  seems  to  have  broken  out  in 
America.  Schools  for  the  instruction  of  velocipede-riding  are  being  opened.  Youngsters  ride 
down  Fifth  Avenue  with  their  school-books  strapped  in  front  of  their  velocipedes,  and  expert 
riders  cause  crowds  of  spectators  to  visit  the  public  squares,  which  afford  excellent  tracks  for 
the  light  wheels  to  move  swiftly  cntx.  The  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  has  secured  two  of  the 
American  machines,  and  other  gentlemen,  well  known  in  the  literary  and  artistic  world,  are 
possessed  of  their  magic  circles.  One  of  them  takes  his  ride  of  nearly  ten  miles  daily,  and 
saves  time  as  well  as  enjoying  the  ride.  A  number  of  persons  are  already  making  use  of  the 
velocipede  as  a  means  of  traversing  the  distance  between  their  homes  and  places  of  business. 
Professional  inventors  are  now  laboring  to  bring  it  to  American  completeness,  and  the  few  deal- 
en  in  New  York  are  doing  quite  a  driving  business.  Their  prices  range  from  $60  to  $too, 
about  the  same  as  in  France.  The  weight  of  a  medium  sized  machine  is  about  60  lbs.,  and  the 
me  of  driving-wheel  roost  in  favor  from  30  to  36  in.  The  winter  season  is  not  favorable  to 
flw/^^-riding,  but  with  opening  of  spring  we  may  expect  to  see  the  two-wheeled  affairs  gliding 
gracefully  about  the  streets  and  whizzing  swiftly  through  the  smooth  roads  of  Central  Park.— 
Har/er's  IVeekly,  Dec.  19,  1868,  p.  811. 

The  above  extract  from  that  well-edited  and  really  representative  "  journal  of  civilization  *' 
exhibits  the  date  of  its  earliest  mention  of  the  matter,  which  was  made  to  accompany  a  pair  of 
pictures  :  "  Velocipede  Race  in  Paris  on  Sunday  Afternoon  "  and  "  The  American  Veloci> 
pede."  The  former,  reproduced  from  a  foreign  paper,  represents  four  women  competing,  in  the 
presence  of  a  large  crowd ;  and  the  latter,  sketched  by  T.  R.  Davis,  gives  a  good  idea  of  the 
Pickering  machine,  which  was  described  in  the  following  words  from  the  Scitnit/ic  Anuriean : 
"  It  differs  Cram  the  FriwA  ml^cf  in  the  arrangement  of  the  tiller,  which  is  brought  well  back 
and  •oflfeiaillf'I^AllflAHMHB'''^  upright  poMtioa  in  riding.  The  stirrups  or  crank 
pedaliamArii^^^^^^^^^toBiflfr«Mll  ««4|ia4pi9-'<i^*tt>^  on  the  crank 


404  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

• 

the  pressure  of  the  foot  will  alvj^ys  bring  one  of  the  three  aides  into  proper  pontkm.  The 
connecting  apparatus  differs  from  that  of  the  French  bicycle  in  that  the  saddle-bar  serves  only 
as  a  seat  and  a  brake,  and  is  not  attached  to  the  rear  wheel.  By  a  simple  pressure  forward 
against  the  tiller,  and  a  backward  pressure  against  the  tail  of  the  saddle,  the  saddle-^ring  is 
compressed  and  the  brake  attached  to  it  is  brought  firmly  down  upon  the  wheel.**  Harper** 
Wetkly  afterwards  printed  (Feb.  20,  1869,  p.  124)  the  picture  of  '*  an  ice  veloapede  recently 
seen  on  the  river  near  Tarrytown.  tt  has  but  one  wheel,  whose  tire  is  armed  with  sharp  points 
to  prevent  slipping.  The  frame  is  supported  behind  by  two  steel  runners,  like  those  attached 
to  ice-boats,  and  the  machine  is  propelled  with  astonishing  rapidity.**  This  was  fidlowed 
(March  6,  p.  149)  by  a  reproduction  of  "  the  picture  published  by  Ackennanof  London  in  1819, 
showing  precisely  the  same  thing  as  the  veloapede  which  is  just  at  this  moment  so  popular  in 
New  York,  except  m  the  crank  or  treadle.**  (Quotations  from  a  weekly  paper  of  August  of 
that  year  are  appended  to  show  that  "our  excitable  citizens  went  into  an  ecstasy  of  astonish- 
ment and  delight  over  the  introduction  of  these  '  dandy  horses,*  and  the  manufacturers  for  a 
time  could  not  apparently  meet  the  demand  of  the  '  velodpeders.* "  The  editor  adds  :  "  The 
velocipede  mania  of  a  half-centiuy  ago  soon  died  out  in  New  York,  and  the  people  who  had 
purchased  machines  at  high  prices  gave  them  away  as  playthings  for  grown-up  boys.  Time 
must  decide  whether  history  is  to  repeat  itself.  At  present,  however,  there  seems  to  be  no 
diminution  of  the  interest  taken  in  this  curious  machine,  of  which  a  single  agency  in  this  dty 
has  prepared  seventy  patents  for  improvements.** 

Goddard's  little  book  reprints  all  these  details  about  the  New  York  craze  of  1819  (pp.  14, 
1$),  and  also  makes  casual  allusion  to  the  "  ice  velocipede,  invented  by  a  gentleman  of 
Poughkeepsie,  who  propels  it  with  astonishing  rapidity  *'  (p.  81).  A  story  is  also  quoted  (p.  13) 
from  William  Howitt*s  "  Visits  to  Remarkable  Places,**  published  1841,  showing  this  odd  dis- 
covery made  by  him  at  Alnwick  Castle :  "Among  the  curiosities  laid  up  here  are  two  veloci- 
pedes, machines  which  twenty  years  ago  were  for  a  short  period  much  in  vogue.  It  b  said  that 
tlie  duke  and  his  physicians  used  to  amuse  themselves  in  careering  about  the  grounds  with  these 
steeds.  One  young  man  of  my  acquaintance  rode  on  one  of  these  wooden  horses  all  the  way 
from  London  to  Falkirk  in  Scotland,  and  was  requested  at  various  towns  to  exhibit  his  man- 
agement of  it  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  place.  He  afterward  made  a  long  excursion 
to  France  upon  it;  for  he  was  a  very  adroit  velocipedean.** 

Looking  backward  through  the  mists  of  more  than  sixteen  years,  I  am 
quite  unable  to  recall  the  image  of  a  single  one  of  my  contemporaries  as  he 
**  sat  his  Ycloss  "  in  New  Haven.  I  remember  the  names  of  some  who  were 
persistent  riders,  but  I  have  entirely  forgotten  whether  they  ever  accompanied 
me,  or  whether  I  always  rode  solitarily.  I  cannot  create  a  vivid  mental  pict- 
ure of  how  the  bone-shakers  used  to  look  upon  the  street;  though  the 
**  scenes  in  a  velocipede  riding  school  "  are  called  back  with  some  degree  of 
freshness  whenever  I  turn  to  a  certain  wood-cut  of  that  name  which  ap- 
peared in  Harper's  Weekly  (Feb.  13,  1869,  p.  109).  It  was  on  Saturday,  the 
24th  of  July,  that  I  brought  home  my  **  impossible  "  A.  B.  degree ;  and  the 
record  shows  that  my  first  act,  on  the  26th,  was  to  send  for  the  lists  of  vari- 
ous velocipede  makers.  The  price  of  a  new  "Pickering"  had  already 
dropped  from  $130  to  |8o ;  but  I  bought  a  second-hand  one  of  the  ex-keeper 
of  a  rink,  paying  $20  for  it.  This  was  on  the  13th  of  August,  and  on  the 
following  day  I  spent  an  hour  and  a  half  in  riding  it  four  miles  to  Spring- 
field, where  I  urged  the  dealer  to  return  my  money.  Instead  of  consenting 
to  this,  he  made  a  few  repairs  which  he  declared  "  caused  the  wheels  to  run 


BONE-SHAKER  DA  VS. 


405 


iruc,"  as  originally  warranted  1  denied  his  aiaertion,  but  my  denial  did  noi 
avail  to  loosen  his  hold  on  the  fjo  \  and  so  I  sent  the  Pickering  home  in  a 
carL  I  look  short  lides  with  it,  every  day  or  two,  until  (he  end  of  October  ; 
and,  on  a  hal£-dozen  occasions,  during  the  laCtet  month,  went  as  far  as  the 
post  office,  two  miles  distant.  This  was  my  furthest  objective  point,  and  I 
presume  such  long  tours  may  have  been  rather  wearisome,  ior  I  oftener  em> 
ployed  a  borse  to  draw  me  [hither,  in  spile  of  my  indifference  to  driving. 
My  latest  entry  concerning  this  machine  shows  that  on  the  first  day  of  De- 
cember '■  I  lode  a  little  in  attic,  in  addition  lo  usual  exercise."  This  usual 
exercise  was  club-swinging,  to  which  I  gave  about  a  half-hour  daily;  and  the 
scene  of  it  was  Ihe  top  story  of  a  large  storehouse,  whose  flour  furnished  a 
smooth  riding-surface,  but  whose  converging  rafters  restricted  (he  Scope  of  it. 
How  much  or  how  little  I  circled  there,  on  the  vtloce,  as  a  supplement  to  my 
customary  club  exercise,  during  that  winter,  I  cannot  now  recall ;  but  I  prob- 
ably never  again  mounted  the  Pickering  in  the  opea  air,  for,  when  the  warm 
weather  returned,  I  presented  it  to  a  twelve-year-old  boy,  who  has  preserved 
it,  I  believe,  even  unto  (he  present  time.  When  he  last  dn^ged  it  Out  for 
my  iDspectioi>,a  year  or  (wo  ago,  I  was  impressed  with  surprise  at  my  ever 
having  had  the  ability  to  ride  it,  and  at  my  ever  having  bad  the  infatuation  to 
sec  grace  and  loveliness  in  its  clumsy  outlines. 

My  post-collegiate  experiences  wi[h  the  bone-shaker  were  doubtless  re- 
stricted by  my  lack  of  leisure  for  indulging  the  hobby;  fur  it  was  during  (he 
half-year  ()ia(  ended  with  the  last  day  of  April,  1S70,  that  I  wrote  "  Four 
Years  at  Yale,"  a  sort  of  cyclopedia  of  undergraduate  life  (here,  or  maller- 
of.fact  presentation  of  student  customs  and  traditions.      The  production  of 
such  a  manuscript  (950  Urge  pages,  containing  about  220,000   words)   in  so 
short  a  time  required  uninterrupted  industry  ;  and  the  events  which  followed 
its  completion  proved  almost  equally  prohibitory  to  thoughts  of  vclocipeding. 
During  a  nine  months'  European  tour  which  began  in  October,  1S71, 1  made 
four  distinct  visits  to  England  and  London  ;  and,  on  the   last  and  longest  of 
these  visits,  I  saw  a  sight  which  pleased  me  more,  and   made  a  stronger  im- 
pression on  my  memory,  than  any  other  single  experience  of  the    tour.     This 
was  the  dog  show  at  the  Crystal  Palace,  Sydenham,  where  [,050  specimens  of 
the  canine  nobility  of  the  kingdom  (Including  a  goodly  number  of  adorable 
ball  dogs)  howled  and  barked  a  discordant  chorus  which  made  sweet  melody 
in  my  ears.    No  show  of  the  sort  had  then  been  known  in  America,  and  a 
passage  across  the  Atlantic 
lege  of  witnessing  so  sabtim 
ever,  only  because  that  was  I 
bone-shaker,  as  shown  by  thi 
ing  leave  of  (he  dogs.  I  went 
velocipede  'for  an  hour';  bi 
the  wetness  of  the  ground  ai 
own  satisfaction,  however,  tl 


4o6         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  unrecorded  sights  of  those  days  is  very  vague,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  I 
used  to  be  confronted  quite  often  by  the  veloce  in  the  parks  not  only  of 
London,  but  of  Paris,  Vienna  and  other  continental  cities.  In  all  those 
places,  however,  my  own  favorite  "  mount "  was  the  roof  of  an  omnibus  or 
horse-car;  though  when  I  went  to  London  again,  in  December,  1875, 1  saw  so 
many  advertisements  of  the  new-fangled,  rubber-tired  bicycles — giving  prices 
at  which  they  could  be  hired  by  the  day  or  week,  for  use  upon  the  road — that 
my  old-time  passion  for  personal  wheeling  revived  once  more,  and  I  resolved 
to  take  a  tour  with  one  before  I  left  the  country. 

Had  I  kept  this  resolve,  I  should  inevitably  have  purchased  a  bicycle ; 
and,  as  I  sailed  homeward  from  Liverpool  on  the  20th  of  April,  1876,  that 
same  supposititious  machine  would  have  been  the  first  of  its  sort  to  roll  along 
our  United  States  roads, — because  the  first  that  actually  did  this  dated  its  ca- 
reer from  the  same  summer's  Centennial  Exhibition  at  Philadelphia.  Pro- 
crastination, that  thief  of  time,  thus  robbed  me,  "  all  unbeknownst,"  of  nay 
possible  honors  as  a  pioneer.  Though  I  lived  for  nearly  five  months  in  the 
unbroken  seclusion  of  "No.  33,  St.  James's  Place,  S.  W.,"  without  once 
speaking  to  a  private  acquaintance,  and  though  the  rather  remarkable  task  for 
which  I  established  myself  in  that  haughty  and  high-priced  cul-dt-sac  (the 
construction  of  a  secret  tunnel  thence  to  the  innermost  vaults  of  Somerset 
House)  was  completed  long  before  the  expiration  of  that  period,  I  somehow 
never  quite  got  leisure  to  indulge  in  the  anticipated  bicycling.  Perhaps  the 
thought  that  the  roads  would  grow  better  with  the  advancing  spring  led  me 
to  postpone  the  experience  to  as  late  a  date  as  possible  ;  until  at  last  I  sud- 
denly saw,  amid  the  rush  of  things  which  must  be  done  as  sailing  day  drew 
near,  that  I  had  postponed  it  beyond  the  possibility  of  realization.  Of 
course,  I  had  no  shadow  of  a  premonition  of  the  brilliant  future  vrhich  was 
just  then  beginning  to  dawn  upon  the  modified  bone-shaker.  I  did  not  think 
of  the  proposed  ride  as  a  matter  of  vast  latent  significance.  I  did  not  sus- 
pect that  it  concealed  the  "  potency  "  of  causing  a  definite  deviation  in  my 
whole  course  of  life,  such  as  my  actual  adoption  of  the  wheel,  three  years 
later,  has  caused  in  fact.  But  it  is  certainly  true  that,  among  all  the  regrets 
for  things  undone  and  pleasures  postponed,  my  chief  regret,  when  I  sailed 
away  from  England  in  '76,  was  connected  with  the  fact  that  I  had  failed  to 
explore  its  roads  on  a  bicycle  I  My  consolation  was  the  old  one :  that  the 
mysteries  and  attractions  of  the  mighty  metropolis  are  too  vast  and  varied 
for  any  philosophic  visitor  ever  to  reach  the  end  of.  My  own  selected  sam- 
ples of  "  life  *'  there  had  proved  sufficiently  amusing  and  instructive,  even 
without  any  trials  of  the  wheel.  Though  the  mystic  formula  **  G.  B.  V.  4.  5.  6." 
had  not  availed  to  give  me  the  hoped-for  pot  of  gold,  when  I  reached  the  end 
of  its  rainbow,  it  had  at  least  been  the  means  of  impressing  me  anew  with 
the  significance  of  these  lines  from  Cowper : 

"  Where  has  pleasure  such  a  field — so  rich,  so  thronged,  so  well  supplied — ^as  London  ? 
Opulent,  enlarged,  and  still  increasing  London !  *' 


CURL.' 

Curl  was  the  best  di^  that  ever  lived.  Hia  face  was  his  fortune.  The 
soul  which  shone  through  that  ugly  visage  was  one  whose  beauty  not  even 
the  pen  of  Shakespeare  could  do  justice  to.  fie  was  neither  a  gentleman  nor 
a  scholar, — for  he  was  born  in  a  beer-saloon  kepi  by  an  Irishman,  and  the 
discipline  of  bis  earlier  months  was  imperfect;  but  he  was  a  genuine 
humorist,  a  devout  believer  in  the  supernatural,  and  a  thoroughly  honest 
seeker  after  a  high  ideal  for  the  shaping  of  his  personal  conduct.  Realizing 
clearly  the  vanity  of  life,  he  early  decided  to  attempt  getting  the  most  good 
possible  from  it  by  treating  it  as  a  joke ;  and  though  his  own  vanities  and 
affectations  and  pretenses  were  many  and  whimsical,  they  were  too  trans- 
parent to  be  a  real  blot  upon  his  character.  No  one  knew  better  than  himself 
that  they  were  mere  devices  of  "  business,"  assumed  for  conventional  and 
necessary  purposes ;  and  it  rarely  happened,  when  the  occasion  was  over,  that 
he  would  refuse  to  admit  this,  or  to  join  with  me  in  laughing  at  them. 

His  function  in  the  universe  was  to  serve  as  guardian  of  the  ancestral 

farm  or  market-garden  where  I  was  born  and  brought  up,  and  where  a  great 

many  men   and    boys  were   employed   under  conditions  favorable   to   the 

development  of  insolence  and   thievishness.     For  the  repression  of  those 

lawless  tendencies  in  such  a  place,  no  instrument  of  police  has  ever  yet  been 

found  quite  so  effective  as  the  presence  of  a  savage  watch-dog,  provided  his 

own  savage  impulses  can  be  repressed  at  the  proper  point.    They  are  useful 

as  a  menace  and  a  warning,— js  a  vague,  overhanging  terror,  to  discourage  and 

dishearten  theprospective  doer-of-evil, — but  they  must  never  be  gratified  by 

the  actual  taste  of  blood.     No  man  or  boy  will  consent  to  work  at  a  place 

where  he  is  liable  to  be  bitten,  while  in  the  discharge  of  his  ordinary  and 

proper  tasks;  but  no  such  a  one  can   fail   to  have   his  moral  tendencies 

ever-present  belief  that, 

and  improper  task  of 

ipts   to   offer   personal 


4o8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

violence  to  his  employer,  the  jaws  of  a  powerful  bull-dog  will  simultaneously 
fasten  upon  his  throat  with  the  remorselessness  of  an  avenging  angel. 

Here,  then,  was  Curl's  opportunity ;  and  wonderfully  well  did  he  im- 
prove it    He  magnified  his  office  to  the  utmost.     He  came  in  time  to  rank 
himself  as  the  true  owner  of  the  farm.    Never  failing  to  accord  dignified  and 
affable  toleration  to  the  presence  of  other  members  of  the  family,  it  was 
plain  that  he  after  a  while  adopted  the  theory  that  they  were  a  species  of 
favored  guests  or  tenants-at-will,  whom  it  was  his  good-pleasure,  as  the  real 
head  of  the  establishment,  to  entertain  and  defend      He  was,  in  essence  and 
intention,  the  mildest-mannered  dog  that  ever  scuttled  home  to  gnaw  a  bone  I 
Not  so  much  as  once  in  all  his  long  life  did  he  ever  inflict  a  bite  u|x>n  a 
single  human  being.      No  creature  that  walks  the  earth  could  be  softer- 
hearted,  or  more  actively  sympathetic,  or  more  ardently  desirous  of  cul- 
tivating the  friendship  of  every  chance  acquaintance  who  offered  civil  greet- 
ing.   If  his  true  character,  as  revealed  to  me  and  his  other  intimates,  could 
have  been  comprehended  by  the  general  outside  public,  he  would  have  been 
utterly  worthless  as  a  barrier  and  a  defense.    The  fact,  then,  that  he  served 
in  such  capacity  for  many  years,  with  eminent  honor  and  never-varying  suc- 
cess, supplies  a  striking  proof  of  the  deceitfulness  of  appearances,     tn  the 
language  of  the  tramps,  he  remained  a  "holy  terror"  to  the  last     Even  m 
extreme  old  age,  his  feeble  and  tottering  presence  gave  the  farm  a  sort  of 
traditionary  prestige  as  the  abiding  place  of  an  animal  whose  ferocious  and 
blood-thirsty  nature  presented,  as  Dr    Johnson  might  say,  a  potentiality  of 
destructiveness  beyond  the  dream  of  the  prize-fighter.    I  used  to  tell  these 
things  to  Curl ;  and  the  knowledge  of  them  (such  was  his  sense  of  humor, 
and  his  appreciation  of  the  grotesqueness  in  the  contrast  between  his  real 
and  his  reputed  character)  undoubtedly  helped  to  cheer  and  prolong  his  life. 
He  took  pleasure  in  maintaining  his  entirely  undeserved   reputation  for 
savagery.     He  understood  that  the  keeping  up  of  appearances  was  a  part  of 
his  daily  routine  of  duties.      He  knew  that  his  position  as  *' chief  of  the 
state"  demanded  the   preservation  of    a    bold  front  in  the    presence  of 
strangers.    He  supposed,  too,  that  his  little  tricks  of  bluster  and  bravado 
were  what  chiefly  compelled  their  respect  and  deference.    As  to  this  I  never 
had  the  heart  to  attempt  to  undeceive  him.    The  result  might  have  been  dis- 
astrous to  our  friendship.     In  fact,  I  myself  could  rarely  be  forced  to  admit 
the  truth,  without  a  rankling  sense  of  outrage  and  resentment.     But  the  true 
source  of  Curl's  remarkable  hold  upon  the  public  imagination  was  his  ugly 
mug.    His  face  was  his  fortune 

Idealized  as  it  was  to  me  by  the  light  of  affection,  I  always  accounted  it 
the  handsomest  face  that  canine  creature  was  ever  blessed  with.  The  ambro> 
type  which  was  taken  of  Curl,  with  my  arm  proudly  encircling  his 
head,  '*  when  I  was  twelve  and  he  was  two,**  is  a  speaking  portrail^ 
of  a  lifelike  force  and  vigor  which  no  photographic  reprodut 
able  to  do  justice  to,  and  which  the  heliotype  copy  now  pre« 


THE  BEST  OF  BULl^DOGS. 


409 


piece  to  this  book  faJls  adequately  to  depict.  Gazing  upon  that  ambroljpe 
after  the  lapse  of  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  and  reflecting  how  well 
that  special  artistic  process  has  justified  its  name  by  preserving  Curl's 
features  for  me  with  such  "  immorlal  freshness,"  f  am  even  now  unable  to 
comprehend  why  other  people  fail  to  recognize  those  features  as  handsome, — 
as  the  very  perfection  of  canine  beauty  It  was  always  hard  for  me  to  realize 
that  folks  were  in  earnest  who  called  him  "as  homely  as  a  hedge  fence." 
Appreciating  as  I  did  his  unbounded  good-nature  and  kind-heartedness,  the 
spectacle  of  people  shrmking  back  from  him  in  terror  and  dismay  was  always 
very  trying  to  my  finer  feelings,  I  might  laugh  at  their  foolishness,  but  the 
testimony  thus  involuntarily  given  to  the  sincerity  of  their  belief  in  his  evil 
appearance  was  exasperating  to  me.  Curl's  nose  and  ears  were  black,  and 
below  the  ears  were  dark  brmdled  patches,  of  irregular  shape,  which  I  Con- 
lidered  veritable  beauty-spots,  though  the  one  of  Ihem  which  encircled  his 
left  eye  doubtless  served  to  intensify  the  stern  and  implacable  expression 
which  gave  him  his  practical  value.  All  the  rest  of  his  outward  form  was 
white, — reflecting  thus  the  purity  of  his  inward  character.  In  most  respects 
he  was  a  thorough-go ing  bull  dog,  with  square  shoulders  and  flattened  nose, 
but  he  lacked  the  protruding  lower  jaw  characteristic  of  that  type,  and  his 
large  size  and  dignified  deportment  showed  there  was  something  of  the 
strain  of  the  mastiff  in  him.  His  ancestry  was  obscure,  but  the  Irish  rum- 
seller  who  nurtured  him  had  enough  faith  in  it,  or  in  his  own  early  promise  of 
"gameness,"  to  solemnly  dedicate  him  for  service  in  the  prize-ring.  Curl's 
ears  were  therefore  cropped,  the  tip-end  of  his  tail  was  bitten  off  by  human 
teeth,  and  "the  little  white  worm  which  makes  a  dog  go  mad"  [presumably 
some  short  nerve  or  ligament)  was  carefully  extracted  from  beneath  his 
tongue.  These  two  latter  ceremonies  are  dear  to  the  heart  of  Hibernian 
superstition,  as  supremely  important  steps  in  the  preliminary  training  of  a 
successful  fighter ;  and  the  inestimable  value  of  Ihem  was  dwelt  upon  with 
great  earnestness  when  the  time  came  for  naming  the  price  at  which  this 
ir)ost  ferociously  promising  pup  could  be  purchased.  "  The  blackness  of  the 
roof  of  the  mouth  of  him,"  which  was  undeniable,  was  also  alleged  as 
another  praiseworthy  "  point,"  indicative  of  tenacity  and  truculence.  In 
short,  such  a  dog  as  Curl  seemed  destined  to  become,  up  to  the  very  moment 
when  a  change  of  ownership  rescued  him  from  behind  the  bar  of  a  low  grog- 
geiy,  and  ensured  for  him  a  peaceful  pastoral  career, — such  a  dog  as  Curl 
seemed  always  in  fact^to  be  to  those  who  casually  met  him, — was  shown  with 

.  J.i.i l;.    . 1.    u..  .1 r— : 1 .    _r    D...1    —<-~^    he    put    forth 

■ilh  gin. 


4IO  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

kitten, — that  excited  the  baser  passions  of  the  real  Curl,  known  to  the  present 
history.  He  could  not  bear  to  see  that  dandified  city  dog  upon  the  place,  or 
to  feel  that  he  was  anywhere  secreted  upon  the  place.  It  grieved  him.  He 
resented  it  as  a  personal  affront.  "  I  am  a  peaceful  dog  and  a  well-disposed," 
Curl  would  say ;  *'  I  give  trouble  to  no  honest  wayfarers  at  the  outer  gate. 
But  the  rules  of  this  farm  are  '  No  dogs  allowed  on  the  premises  I '  and  it 's 
my  duty  to  expel  this  interloper.  You  may  call  it  jealousy,  but  I  call  it 
duty."  Thereupon  the  hairs  in  Curl's  back  would  bristle  up  with  a*  Jerry- 
Cruncher-like  spikiness,  his  tail  would  oscillate  stiffly  to  and  fro,  a  lurid  light 
would  flash  from  his  eyes,  his  cropped  ears  would  slant  back  at  a  dangerous 
angle ;  and  either  he  or  "  Spot "  had  to  be  forthwith  incarcerated  until  the 
time  came  for  the  lover's  departure.  On  one  memorable  occasion,  when  the 
dungeon  drear  chanced  to  be  a  vacant  room  in  the  second  story,  through 
whose  closed  window  Curl  had  an  unobstructed  view  of  his  handsome  vis- 
itor,— sauntering  placidly  about  and  even  sniffing  at  the  fragments  of  food  in 
his  own  basin, — the  maddening  sight  overcame  his  habitual  caution.  There 
was  the  sound  of  breaking  glass ;  there  was  the  sight  of  a  big  white  bull-dog 
sprawling  for  an  instant  on  a  narrow  ledge  of  roof,  with  a  shattered  window- 
sash  encircling  him;  there  was  the  ''dull,  sickening  thud"  and  the  sharp 
yelp  of  pain  as  his  body  struck  the  earth.  But,  in  another  instant,  Curl  had 
resumed  his  official  duties  as  commander  of  the  farm,  and  "  sprung,  all  claws, 
upon  the  foe." 

This  escapade  of  Curl's  hot  youth  always  brought  to  his  face  a  glow  of 
pride,  when  I  recalled  it  to  him  in  maturer  years, — long  after  the  lover  had 
taken  his  bride  away,  and  the  incursions  of  the  spotted  coach-dog  had  be- 
come matter  of  ancient  history.  No  other  canine  intruder  ever  again  regu- 
larly came  upon  the  farm ;  but  "  Black  Jack,"  a  shaggy  Newfoundland,  resid- 
ing less  than  a  quarter-mile  away,  used  often  to  trot  majestically  by  the  gate 
and  incidentally  throw  glances  of  lofty  scorn  on  Curl  and  all  his  belongings. 
A  hearty  reciprocation  of  this  was  shown  whenever  Curl  had  occasion  to  go  by 
Jack's  gate ;  for  he  then  walked  so  slowly  and  stiffly,  and  held  his  tail  with 
such  a  minatory  and  insolent  twist,  that  even  a  far  less  intelligent  dog  than 
Jack  would  have  understood  the  odium  and  contempt  thus  expressed  for  him. 
Jack  appreciated  it  perfectly.  For  all  the  years  of  their  lives — and  as  re- 
gards the  times  of  their  deaths  they  were  not  greatly  divided — they  were  sworn 
enemies.  The  whole  town  knew  it ;  and  they  both  knew  that  the  town  knew 
it.  It  was  one  of  the  conventions  of  their  existence.  No  other  dog  ventured 
to  compare  himself  with  them,  or  to  aspire  to  a  leadership  in  public  affairs. 
It  was  universally  recognized  that  these  two  were  "the  best  two  dogs  in 
town."  The  great  question  was,  Which  of  the  two  is  the  better  dog  ?  Opin- 
ion was  about  equally  divided,  and  the  question  has  remained  unanswered  to 
the  present  day.  Curl  and  Jack  never  fought.  They  continually  challenged 
each  other  to  combat.  They  always  carried  chips  on  their  shoulders.  They 
seemed  everlastingly  to  thirst  for  each  other's  blood.    They  struggled  de»- 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS,  41 1 

perately  for  the  fray  when  "  held  back  by  their  friends.**  But  each  dog  was 
at  heart  a  trifle  afraid  of  the  other ;  and  I  think  they  had  secretly  signed  a 
mutual  compact  that  the  test  of  superior  prowess  should  never  really  be  made. 
Even  in  his  most  confidential  moments,  however,  Curl  would  never  admit  to 
me  the  existence  of  any  such  treaty ;  and  always,  at  the  mere  mention  of  his 
hated  rival's  name, 

"  With  every  bristling  hair  along  his  back  he  fiercely  frowned, 
And  curled  his  tail  until  he  raised  his  hind  legs  from  the  ground.^' 

Whenever,  therefore,  he  failed  promptly  to  answer  my  call,  I  had  only  to 
pretend  to  call  Jack,  or  to  speak  pet  words  to  Jack,  or  to  scrape  the  feed-dish 
for  Jack,  and  I  was  sure  that  Curl,  if  within  ear-shot,  would  soon  come  rushing 
indignantly  forward.  It  was  a  diversion  also,  when  Curl's  eyes  had  been 
bandaged,  to  "make-believe"  feed  or  fondle  Jack  in  his  presence.  His 
simulated  rage  and  desperation  over  this  imaginary  affront  were  in  most  amus- 
ing contrast  to  his  transports  of  joy  and  affection  when  the  bandage  was  re- 
moved and  he  was  assured  again  of  the  fact  that  he  himself  was  the  only  per- 
fect dog  in  the  world.  Once  when  Jack  ran  forth  from  his  gate  and  barked 
viciously  at  Curl  who  was  proudly  rolling  by  in  an  empty  market-wagon,  and 
v/as  therefore  inaccessible.  Curl  fairly  shrieked  himself  hoarse  by  the  rapidity 
and  vigor  of  his  replies.  While  then  he  was  running  frantically  around  the 
wagon,  in  a  pretended  paroxysm  of  dismay  at  his  inability  to  "  out  and  at 
him,"  the  tail-board  suddenly  gave  way  beneath  his  pressure,  and  the  two 
furious  enemies  were  thus  brought  close  together  on  the  ground,  with  never  a 
barrier  between  them.  The  instant  their  surprise  was  over,  the  magnificent 
Jack  was  seen  retreating  within  his  gate,  and  the  truculent  Curl  trotting 
homeward  as  mildly  as  if  just  returning  from  Sunday  school.  It  was  a  favor- 
ite demonstration  of  belligerency  with  Curl, — when  the  sight  of  Jack,  running 
gayly  along  with  a  carriage,  revived  in  his  breast  an  active  sense  of  his  rival's 
moral  baseness, — to  chase  him  violently  for  the  thirty  rods  or  so  which  repre- 
sented the  garden's  frontage  upon  the  street.  Had  such  pursuit  been  planned 
in  good-faith,  Curl  would  have  taken  to  the  road  by  way  of  the  front  gate ; 
but,  instead  of  doing  this,  his  practice  was  to  run  through  the  garden,  along 
the  inner  side  of  the  picket  fence,  shouting  defiance  and  imprecations  at  Jack 
as  he  ran.  When  the  angle  of  the  garden  fences  was  thus  reached,  Curl 
always  expressed  great  surprise  and  grief  at  finding  no  gate  or  other  outlet 
there ;  and  he  would  sometimes  carry  his  pretense  so  far  as  to  gnaw  at  a 
picket  or  dig  a  little  dirt  from  under  the  fence,  in  his  desperate  desire  to  over- 
haul the  hated  Jack,  who  by  this  time  would  be  far  down  the  road.  A  great 
change  came  over  Curl's  spirit  on  a  certain  morning  when,  having  plunged 
through  the  garden  with  phenomenal  speed  and  ferocity,  in  pursuit  of  a  dog 
whom  he  had  no  real  desire  to  reach,  he  found  (as  a  result  of  my  having  re- 
moved two  pickets,  for  his  discomfiture)  that  an  outlet  to  the  street  really 
existed  there !  Curl  sprang  through  it,  as  in  duty  bound,  but  his  pursuit  of  the 
foe  immediately  relaxed  in  vigor,  and  was  very  soon  transformed  into  an  ap- 


412  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

parent  endeavor  to  follow  a  chipmunk  up  the  big  maple  tree.  I  ultimately 
replaced  the  pickets,  for  I  wished  to  abet  Curl  in  all  his  simulations  of 
bravery ;  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  never  afterwards  took  quite  as  thorough 
a  satisfaction  as  before  in  charging  down  upon  his  enemies  from  behind  the 
safe  barrier  of  the  picket  fence.  The  demonstrated  element  of  danger  in  the 
case  had  somewhat  impaired  his  confidence  and  enthusiasm.  Knowing  that 
his  duty  to  the  farm  demanded  the  keeping  up  of  a  reputation  as  a  "  terrible 
fighter,"  he  fulfilled  that  function  perfectly  without  any  violation  of  the  peace. 
Except  for  the  conventional  necessities  of  their  respective  positions,  I  have 
no  doubt  that  Jack  and  himself  would  gladly  have  joined  in  chanting  the  fol- 
lowing duet,  with  responsive  wags  of  their  tails,  as  well  representing  their 
ideal  of  canine  wisdom  and  philosophy : 

"  You  may  sing  of  your  dog,  your  bottom  dog,  or  of  any  dog  that  ytni  please ; 
I  go  for  the  dog,  the  wise  old  dog,  that  knowingly  takes  his  ease, 
And,  wagging  his  tail  outside  the  ring, — ^keeping,  always,  his  bone  in  sight, — 
Cares  not  a  pin,  in  his  sound  old  head — ^the  outside  dog  in  the  fight. 
Not  his  is  the  bone  they  are  fighting  for ;  and  why  should  my  dog  sail  in, 
With  nothing  to  gain,  but  a  certain  chance  to  lose  his  own  precious  skin? 
There  may  be  a  few,  perhaps,  who  fail  to  see  it  quite  in  this  light, 
But,  when  the  fur  flies,  l.had  rather  be  the  outside  dog  in  the  fight 
I  know  there  are  dogs — ^injudicious  dogs — who  think  it  quite  the  thing 
To  take  the  part  of  one  of  the  dogs,  and  go  yelping  into  the  ring ; 
But  I  care  not  a  pin  what  all  may  say,  in  regard  to  the  wrong  or  right, 
My  money  goes,  as  well  as  my  song,  for  the  dog  that  keeps  out  of  the  fight** 

In  respect  to  a  certain  pair  of  dogs  who  stood  in  abject  dread  of  him,  Curl 
never  assumed  the  existence  of  any  better  route  of  approach  than  through 
the  front  gate.  One  of  these  was  a  black-and-tan,  of  about  half  his  own  size, 
whom  Curl  would  tumble  into  the  dust  with  his  paw,  and  then  stand  above, 
rather  shamefacedly,  as  if  in  doubt.  After  a  while,  he  would  settle  the  doubt 
by  letting  the  dog  run  on  to  rejoin  the  milk-wagon  to  which  he  was  attached. 
Curl  never  bit  or  otherwise  injured  this  dog,  and  the  dog  never  resented  the 
indignity  of  having  Curl  stand  on  all  fours  above  him ;  but  he  would  'some- 
times make  a  long  detour  into  the  field,  to  avoid  this  chance  of  being  rolled 
in  the  dust ;  and  Curl  would  even  then  give  chase  and  force  the  making  of 
a  longer  detour.  The  other  regular  recipient  of  discipline  from  Curl  was  a 
meek  greyhound,  belonging  to  a  cracker-pedlar  who  drove  past  the  farm  once 
a  week,  and  gave  notice  of  his  passing  by  a  string  of  sleigh-bells  on  his  horse's 
neck.  Whenever  Curl  was  observed  to  whine  and  show  symptoms  of  un- 
easiness without  apparent  cause,  it  usually  happened  that  the  sound  of  the 
cracker-pedlar's  bells  would  become  audible  to  human  ears  soon  afterwards. 
The  bells  probably  seemed,  to  Curl's  mind,  specially  designed  to  taunt  him 
with  the  announcement  that  an  absurdly  thin  greyhound  was  about  to  run  by ; 
and  he  usually  resented  it  by  chasing  after  him,  for  a  dozen  or  twenty  rods, 
and  growling  savagely, — though  he  never  disgraced  himself  by  offering  act- 
ual violence  to  so  frail  and  spiritless  a  specimen.    The  ringing  of  the  large 


414  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

with  a  broomstick  or  rake-handle  upon  the  door  of  his  den, — which  apartment 
occupied  a  recess  beneath  the  stairs  of  the  woodshed  and  was  designated,  by 
a  sign  of  large  letters,  as  belonging  specially  to  "THE  DORG.**  The 
sham-fights  which  I  there  used  to  engage  in  with  the  beloved  beast  were 
something  terrible  to  behold, — by  any  one  who  did  not  know  that  his  frantic 
manifestations  of  the  wildest  rage  were  mere  humorous  assumptions.  It  was 
all  in  fun.  The  minute  that  my  desperate  attack  upon  his  castle  ceased,  he 
was  ready  to  rush  out  and  overwhelm  me  with  caresses.  The  sight  of  men 
wrestling  or  scuffling  with  one  another  was  so  objectionable  to  his  mind  that 
he  would  usually  try  to  spring  upon  them  and  separate  them ;  and  it  vexed 
him  greatly  to  see  men  throwing  missiles  at  one  another,  or  at  any  object 
whatever.  Instead  of  avoiding  any  missile  coming  in  his  own  direction,  he 
would  put  himself  in  the  way  of  it, — jumping  into  the  air,  if  necessary,  in  his 
endeavor  to  catch  it  in  his  mouth.  The  sharper  the  hurt  which  such  a  thing 
gave  him,  the  more  eager  he  became  to  stop  the  next  one.  Had  it  been 
allowable  to  persist  in  any  such  cruel  experiment,  I  know  that  Curl  would 
have  "  caught  things  "  until  he  was  killed  in  the  effort.  His  hostility  seemed 
to  be  directed  against  the  missile  itself,  rather  than  against  the  thrower  of  it ; 
and,  if  a  cannon-ball  had  been  hurled  at  him,  he  would  never  have  flinched 
from  his  assumed  duty  of  trying  to  stop  it. 

This  characteristic  gave  a  chance  for  great  fun  in  the  winter,  whenever  the 
snow  was  sticky  enough  to  pack  well  together ;  for  Curl  would  spring  val- 
iantly against  the  largest  lumps  which  could  be  lifted  over  him ;  and  the  proc- 
ess of  being  overwhelmed  by  their  bulk  and  impetus  was  not  really  a  painful 
one.  Curl  enjoyed  immensely  these  struggles  in  the  snow,  but  he  hated  very 
much  to  be  imprisoned  in  a  snow-cave.  My  plan  was,  when  the  cave  was  in 
readiness,  to  throw  a  piece  of  meat  into  its  inmost  recess,  send  Curl  in  pur- 
suit of  it,  and  then,  before  he  had  time  to  withdraw,  seal  up  the  entrance  with 
a  heavy  barrier  of  snow.  Afterwards,  I  would  torment  my  victim  by  offering 
honeyed  compliments  to  "  Jack,"  or  pretending  to  feed  him  lavishly,  until  at 
last  Curl  would  tunnel  his  way  out  of  the  prison,  or  else  I  would  break  its 
roof  down  upon  his  head.  It  became  increasingly  difficult,  as  experience 
sharpened  his  sagacity,  to  coax  Curl  into  a  trap  of  this  sort ;  and  there  was 
something  very  amusing  in  his  various  shrewd  endeavors  to  secure  the  meat 
without  irretrievably  committing  his  entire  body  to  the  cave.  No  amount  of 
coaxing  or  entreaty  could  ever  persuade  him  to  draw  me  on  a  sled,  for  so 
much  as  a  single  rod,  when  faced  away  from  home.  But  sometimes,  when  an 
ice-storm  had  made  a  stout  crust  upon  the  surface  of  the  snow,  I  would  get 
Curl  away  off  in  the  field,  and  then,  having  hitched  him  to  the  sled  on  which 
I  had  'seated  myself,  I  would  tell  him  to  ^'  Go  home  I "  He  went,  on  such 
occasions,  with  surprising  swiftness.  Under  no  other  impulse  did  my  "  Gen. 
Scott "  ever  travel  quite  so  fast. 

In  skating  times,  also.  Curl  was  emphatically  "a  big  thing  on  ice,'*  and 
the  manner  in  which  his  rotund  body  would  glide  along  the  slippery  surface. 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS.  415 

as  a  sequel  to  any  attempt  on  his  part  to  make  a  sudden  curve  while  running, 
was  ludicrous  in  the  extreme.  He  had  a  great  dread  of  water  in  an  unfrozen 
condition,  however,  and  regarded  the  application  of  it  to  his  body  in  the  light 
of  a  punishment.  Though  always  glad  to  accompany  me  into  the  field,  he  was 
apt  to  slink  back,  dubiously,  as  the  river  bank  was  approached ;  and  consider- 
able coaxing  and  dragging  had  to  be  resorted  to  in  getting  him  into  my  flat- 
bottomed  skiff,  albeit  the  stern  of  this  was  conspicuously  lettered  "  The  Bull 
Dorg."  The  problem  then  was  to  row  the  boat  out  as  far  as  possible  before 
Curl  sprang  overboard ;  for,  much  as  he  hated  the  water,  he  hated  still  more 
to  see  the  solid  earth  receding  from  him,  and  there  was  always  a  point  at 
which  commands,  reproofs  and  entreaties  proved  powerless  to  prevent  his 
obeying  the  first  law  of  nature,  and  swimming,  as  he  thought,  for  his  life.  The 
protruding,  blood-shot  eyes,  and  sad  look  of  desperation,  which  characterized 
Curl  on  such  occasions, — as  he  paddled  rapidly  to  the  shore  and  hurried 
breathlessly  up  the  bank  to  secrete  himself  in  the  asparagus-bed  or  the  corn- 
field,— gave  rise  to  unsympathetic  mirth  on  the  part  of  those  who  knew  the 
real  benefit  which  the  bath  conferred  upon  him.  ■  He  never  ran  home  alone 
on  such  occasions,  no  matter  how  long  I  might  be  busied  with  the  boat.  At 
some  point  on  my  homeward  walk,  Curl  would  be  sure  to  frisk  out  gayly  from 
his  lurking-place ;  but  he  would  also  be  sure  to  keep  well  in  advance  of  me 
until  the  nearness  of  the  house  convinced  him  that  I  meditated  no  return  to  the 
river.  Once  or  twice  in  his  life  Curl  was  regularly  "  tubbed  "  and  scrubbed  ; 
but  the  process  was  so  saddening  and  depressing  to  his  spirits,  and  the  mem- 
ory of  the  indignity  rankled  so  long  in  his  mind,  that  the  benefit  to  his  bodily 
purity  seemed  hardly  an  adequate  compensation  for  his  mental  distress. 

In  the  hottest  and  most  thirst-provoking  of  days,  he  regarded  with  dis- 
trust and  suspicion,  any  tender  to  him  of  fresh,  cool  water  in  a  clean  basin. 
He  could  rarely  be  persuaded  to  taste  it ;  and,  if  he  did  so,  his  manner  showed 
that  he  believed  the  true  object  of  the  kindness  was  a  plan  of  drenching  him 
with  the  contents  of  the  basin, — though  that  trick  was  in  fact  never  played 
upon  him.  His  favorite  drinking-place  was  the  spout  which  carried  the 
waste-water  from  the  pump-room  sink  into  the  drain ;  and  the  dirtier  and 
soapier  this  water  happened  to  be,  the  better  Curl  seemed  to  relish  it.  He 
rarely  consented  to  patronize  the  horses*  drinking-trough,  which  was  equally 
accessible,  and  the  water  of  which  was  reasonably  clean.  He  probably 
thought,  in  fact,  that  the  drinking  of  water  at  all  was  a  sort  of  weak  and  igno- 
minious indulgence,  which  it  became  him,  as  far  as  possible,  to  conceal.  The 
great  advantage  of  the  spout  was,  that  an  overhanging  bench  or  shelf  gave 
him  a  certain  sense  of  privacy  and  seclusion  while  in  the  act  of  slaking  his 
thirst  there.  He  always  did  it  furtively,  and  ran  away  whenever  he  found 
himself  observed.  His  favorite  beverage  wa«  (buttermilk,  and,  in  respect  to 
the  imbibing  of  this,  he  also  show(|^||||H|i|[|mi|||Kince  for  the  pail  de- 
voted to  the  pigs,  rather 
proached  the  brimming  edge 


/ 


4i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

self  at  the  swill  pail  (Curl  often  took  a  vulgar  satisfaction  in  plunging  his 
entire  head  beneath  its  milky  surface,  in  pursuit  of  possible  delicacies  hidden 
at  the  bottom),  and  had  bolstered  his  distended  body  up  against  the  fence,  to 
sleep  off  the  effects  of  the  debauch, — his  eyes  immediately  opened  and  his 
appetite  returned.  Walking  with  dignified  and  deprecatory  tread  to  the 
basin,  he  would  insert  his  nose  therein  and  continue  to  lap  the  milk  until  the 
last  drop,  or  the  last  cat,  had  disappeared.  If  the  cats  returned  when  the 
dish  was  refilled,  Curl  would  also  return  from  the  fence  and  repeat  the  process. 
The  cats  stood  in  no  sort  of  awe  of  him,  for  he  always  gave  a  dignified  tolera- 
tion to  their  friendly  advances,  and  sometimes,  in  moods  of  special  tender- 
ness, he  would  condescend  to  stroke  their  foreheads  with  his  tongue,  when 
they  purringly  arched  their  backs  upward  for  his  approval.  He  never  even 
growled  his  resentment  when  they  clawed  bits  of  solid  food  out  of  the  dish  at 
which  he  was  feeding, — though  he  once  contemptuously  tossed  aside,  and 
thereby  inadvertently  killed,  a  kitten,  who,  not  content  with  intruding  into  the 
dish,  inserted  her  claws  in  his  cheek.  But,  as  regards  the  pre-emption  of  the 
milk,  the  point  simply  was*  that,  as  soon  as  Curl's  fiat  nose  covered  the  basin, 
the  cats  were  hopelessly  shut  off :  there  was  no  space  left  in  which  they  could 
insert  their  tongues. 

It  was  always  a  pleasure  to  me  to  feed  Curl  at  the  table,  and  I  taught 
him  at  that  place  the  only  real  "  trick  "  which  he  ever  learned.  He  would 
patiently  hold  upon  his  nose  even  the  most  tempting  morsel  of  food  until  my 
exclamation  of  "  There!  Curl,"  gave  permission  to  toss  it  in  the  air  and 
swallow  it  on  the  descent.  Hence,  the  cry  of  "  Tliere  !  Curl,"  or  "  There  I 
Jack,"  uttered  in  his  absence,  was  always  understood  by  him,  when  he  heard 
it,  as  signifying  a  distribution  of  something  to  eat.  There  was  something 
funny  about  the  intentness  with  which  Curl,  after  "swallowing  at  a  single 
gulp  "  a  large  bit  of  meat  which  I  had  tossed  into  his  mouth,  would  examine 
the  carpet  to  see  if  by  chance  it  had  escaped  him.  It  was  only  when  thus 
convinced  of  his  having  really  absorbed  the  morsel,  that  he  would  allow  the 
complacent  smile  of  the  true  gastronomer  to  overspread  his  face.  There  were 
perilous  pyramids  of  chairs,  and  tottering  wood  piles,  and  slippery  roofs,  to 
whose  summits  I  enticed  Curl,  with  irresistibly  tempting  baits,  in  those  dear 
old  days;  nor  was  the  practice  of  teaching  him  a  polite  slowness  in  the 
swallowing  of  meat  (by  the  device  of  having  it  hitched  to  a  string  whereof  I 
held  one  end)  entirely  unknown  to  my  experience.  It  used  to  seem  to  me 
that,  when  Curl  watched  the  people  sitting  at  table,  he  everlastingly  turned 
over  in  mind,  as  an  inexplicable  puzzle,  the  reason  for  their  moderation  in 
failing  to  greedily  seize  upon  all  the  food  which  lay  unprotected  before  them. 
A  single  yielding  to  a  great  temptation  of  this  sort  was  the  only  blot  that 
ever  fell  upon  Curl's  reputation  for  entire  integrity.  On  a  certain  fated  noon 
of  his  early  youth,  while  the  deleterious  influences  of  his  low  associations  be- 
hind the  bar  were  still  fresh  upon  him,  the  sight  of  a  platter  of  ham,  just 
cooked  and  awaiting  transfer  from  the  stove-hearth  to  the  dining-table,  proTed 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS.  417 

too  much  for  his  virtue.  He  bolted  the  entire  slice  at  a  gulp,  and  then  bolted, 
himself,  for  the  lawn.  Here  the  ham  rose  up  and  "  gave  him  pause."  He 
quickly  swallowed  it  again,  but  had  no  more  than  reached  the  corner  of  the 
house  when  the  slippery  slice  once  more  asserted  itself.  His  third  absorp- 
tion of  it  proved  effectual,  however,  as  the  digestive  processes  were  doubtless 
stimulated  by  the  tremendous  horsewhipping  which  he  received  from  the 
heavy  hand  of  outraged  authority.    He  never  stole  again. 

The  fifty  acres  within  the  farm  limits  gave  Curl  ample  opportunity  for  ex- 
ercise, and  he  well  understood  that  he  was  not  expected  to  wander  beyond 
them.  He  was  not  often  allowed  to  accompany  any  one  beyond  them;  and 
though  he  esteemed  it  a  treat  to  ride — either  in  the  family  carriage,  or  in 
a  market-wagon,  or  a  buggy,  or  a  sleigh — he  did  not  often  feel  aggrieved 
because  not  invited.  The  clumsy  vigor  with  which  he  would,  when  requested, 
throw  his  heavy  body  far  enough  up  on  the  big  market-wagon  to  bring  it 
within  reach  of  the  beckoning  hand  which  would  then  drag  him  in  by  the  collar 
was  rather  amusing.  Still  more  so  was  his  persistence  in  sitting  on  the 
front  seat,  or  in  standing  in  a  position  that  would  allow  him  to  look  over 
the  dash-board  or  one  side  of  it.  Under  no  circumstances  would  Curl  ever 
consent  to  occupy  a  rear  position  in  any  moving  vehicle.  He  seemed  to 
consider  it  a  degradation.  His  sense  of  duty  demanded  that  he,  as  the  true 
commander,  should  have  an  outlook  at  the  front.  Even  better  than  in  the 
case  of  wagons,  his  powers  as  a  leaper  were  exhibited  by  the  act  of  scaling  a 
certain  high  board-fence,  which  I  had  occasion  to  climb  when  on  my  way  to 
collect  maple  sap.  Crouching  close  to  the  ground.  Curl  would  spring  upward 
far  enough  to  clutch  the  top  of  the  fence  with  his  paws ;  then,  drawing  his 
body  up  with  them,  he  would  balance  himself  for  a  moment  and  jump  down 
solidly  upon  the  other  side.  On  one  notable  occasion,  however, — ^as  a  result 
of  too  vigorous  a  jump,  or  of  a  subsequent  loss  of  his  foothold — Curl  exhib- 
ited himself  upon  the  summit  of  the  fence,  transfixed  as  to  his  stomach,  and 
with  all  fours  waving  wildly  in  the  air.  It  was  a  recognized  part  of  his 
duties  to  drive  the  neighbors'  hens  out  of  the  garden ;  and  it  was  his  custom 
when  they,  with  much  squawking,  flew  over  the  picket  fence  which  marked 
the  boundary  line,  to  continue  at  full  speed,  with  head  and  eyes  lifted 
aloft,  until  the  fence  brought  him  to  a  sudden  halt.  No  matter  how  often 
this  chase  was  repeated,  Curl  never  seemed  to  remember  that  any  fence  ex- 
isted there,  until  his  body  came  into  violent  collision  with  it.  His  entire 
attention  was  concentrated  upon  the  hens,  and  upon  envious  thoughts  of  their 
superior  ability  in  flying.  Yet  he  tried  never  to  catch  them.  He  never  killed 
a  hen ;  and  if  a  specially  stupid  specimen  sometimes  forced  him  to  take  a 
mouthful  of  feathers  from  her,  before  she  would  vacate  the  premises,  he  felt 
rather  ashamed  that  his  ofllcial  duty  in  the  case  had  demanded  such  rude 
conduct  from  him.  He  was  wont  to  paw  the  troublesome  feathers  from  his 
mouth  with  a  rueful  and  crestfallen  air. 

Somewhat  similar  to  this  was  his  distress  at  getting  a  fly  in  his  mouth, 
27 


J 


4i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

when,  after  long  continued  efforts,  he  had  managed  to  capture  one.  A  fly  on 
the  end  of  Curl's  nose  would  be  watched  by  him  with  great  intentness  and 
deliberation  before  he  made  the  final  endeavor  to  toss  and  catch  it,  like  a  piece 
of  meat.  He  also  had  a  way,  when  in  a  hostile  mood  toward  the  flies,  of 
assuming  a  particularly  fixed  and  stony  stare,  gazing  straight  into  vacancy 
until  a  fly  crossed  his  field  of  vision,  when  his  open  jaws  wOuld  come  together 
with  a  snap.  If  the  fly  escaped,  the  operation  was  repeated ;  if  captured, 
Curl  was  put  to  considerable  trouble  in  getting  his  mouth  clear  of  it.  This 
recalls  my  own  favorite  device  of  sticking  his  jaws  together  with  warm  molas- 
ses candy,  or  maple  wax,  whereof  he  was  so  fond  that,  no  matter  how  often 
the  indulgence  brought  him  to  grief,  he  was  always  ready  to  partake.  To  see 
this  besotted  lover  of  sweets  lie  upon  his  back  and  awkwardly  try  to  pry  his 
jaws  apart  with  his  paws,  or  to  dislodge  with  his  paw  a  luscious  lump  clinging 
to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,  was  a  sight  to  be  remembered.  It  was  my  custom 
to  accelerate  his  movements  in  such  cases  by  pretending  that  '*  Black  Jack  " 
was  about  to  be  introduced  and  pounce  upon  him  in  this  shamelessly  dis- 
abled condition.  Curl  once  pounced  upon  and  killed  a  big  woodchuck,  in 
a  fair  fight  in  the  open  field,  while  walking  with  me  one  day ;  and  that  was 
a  fairly  creditable  feat  for  a  dog  of  his  clumsiness  to  do.  He  appreciated 
fully  the  glory  of  his  achievement ;  and,  having  dragged  home  the  carcass  of 
the  foe,  he  proudly  exhibited  it,  and  at  intervals  made  fierce  public  attacks 
upon  it,  for  a  day  or  two,  until  it  was  hidden  from  him  by  burial.  His  on- 
slaught upon  some  bumble-bees,  whose  nest  in  the  clover  had  been  stirred  up 
by  the  progress  of  the  mowing  machine,  was  less  happy  in  its  conclusion. 
When  the  buzzing  insects  had  stung  Curl  into  a  lively  realization  of  the  fact 
that  he  was  utterly  vanquished,  and  could  hope  for  no  relief  or  safety  but  in 
flight,  he  fled  with  a  good  degree  of  speed, — pausing  once  to  roll  upon  the 
ground,  as  a  means  of  shaking  off  his  tormentors.  I  remember — as  clearly  a.- 
if  I  saw  it  yesterday,  instead  of  in  one  of  those  remote  summers  **  before  tht 
war  " — the  look  of  agonized  bewilderment  that  overspread  Curl's  face  wher- 
on  reaching  the  crest  of  the  hill  by  the  barn,  he  twisted  his  head  far  enoug 
around  to  see  that  one  of  these  tormentors  was  still  clinging  to  him  and  vi 
orously  "  putting  in  his  work."  Curl's  jaws  snapped  despairingly  within  . 
inch  or  so  of  the  unapproachable  bee,  which  was  lodged  exactly  in  the  cent 
of  his  back;  and  further  rollings  on  the  ground  were  equally  in  vain  ;  1> 
finally,  at  the  saw-horse,  he  scraped  himself  free. 

There  was  only  one  other  occasion  in  Curl's  life  when  he  was  thoroup' 
abashed  and  disconcerted  and  robbed  of  his  self-conceit,  by  the  undeni-' 
superiority  of  a  fellow-animal.    It  was  the  day  he  saw  the  elephant.     He  ' 
'  -barked  with  gay  superciliousness  at  the  circus-wagons,  and  had  sniffed  the  ^ 
'of  contempt  at  the  horsemen  ;    but  when  this  vast  and  incredible  mass  c>* 
imated  matter  loped  across  his  field  of  vision,  Curl  was  simply  overwheln 
stupefied,  paralyzed.    His  tail  dropped,  his  legs  trembled  and  refused  to  s tip 
him,  his  body  shivered  and  shook  as  with  a  fit  of  ague,  in  the  presence  ni 


420         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

seen  bracing  his  body  against  the  saw-horse  and  mildly  whining,  we  all  under- 
stood that  some  minor  sorrow  oppressed  him.  His  action  signified  that  he 
had  seen  Jack  just  trot  past ;  or  that  he  heard  the  distant  bells  of  the  cracker- 
pedlar  ;  or  that  he  noticed  a  man  upon  the  roof;  or  that  the  wheelbarrow  had 
been  trundled  rapidly  along  the  bricks ;  or  that  the  dinner-bell  had  been 
rung  ;  or  that  the  "  shed  boys  **  had  varied  the  monotony  of  cleaning  vegeta- 
bles by  throwing  them  at  one  another  or  by  scuffling ;  or  that  a  gun  or  cannon 
had  been  fired ;  or  that  a  door  had  been  violently  slammed ;  or  that  a  horse, 
cow,  or  pig  had  escaped  from  confinement  and  been  chased  noisily  around  the 
yard ;  or  that  the  district-school  children  had  been  rattling  their  sticks  along 
the  picket  fence ;  or  that  I  had  been  hammering  on  the  do(»r  of  his  den,  or 
snowballing  him,  or  placing  tempting  baits  of  meat  in  discouragingly  danger- 
ous positions.  When,  however,  Curl  was  observed  to  actually  thrust  himself 
into  the  saw-horse,  and  scrape  his  body  painfully  back  and  forth  between  its 
braces,  uttering  short  barks  and  groans  of  anger  and  distress,  he  proclaimed 
that  the  serenity  of  his  righteous  soul  had  been  most  seriously  ruffled. 

Whenever  Curl  left  the  presence  of  any  one,  with  an  air  of  resentment,  or 
injury,  or  dejection,  or  sorrow,  there  was  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  his  desti- 
nation. He  at  once  sought  the  saw-horse ;  and  the  degree  of  his  mental  dis- 
turbance could  be  accurately  gauged  both  by  the  rapidity  with  which  he 
sought  it,  and  by  his  conduct  on  arriving  in  its  sacred  presence.  If  he  at 
once  lay  down,  the  trouble  was  slight ;  if  he  walked  around  the  beloved  idol 
and  groaned  plaintively,  the  matter  was  more  serious ;  but,  if  he  wormed  him- 
self through  it  and  cried  aloud,  then,  assuredly  his  moral  sensibilities  were 
stirred  to  their  lowest  depths.  On  the  Fourth  of  July,  as  may  be  inferred. 
Curl  was  never  absent  from  the  saw-horse  for  a  moment,  except  when  actively 
engaged  in  the  attempt  to  suppress  the  explosion  of  gunpowder ;  and  in  the 
evening,  during  the  lull  which  followed  the  setting  off  of  any  large  piece  of 
fireworks,  his  indignant  voice  could  be  heard,  coming  from  the  direction  of 
the  saw-horse,  in  the  peculiar,  suppressed  tones,  which  testified  that  he  was 
squeezed  tightly  between  its  rounds.  After  every  attack  of  his  upon  Roman 
candle  or  pin-wheet  or  fiery  serpent,  he  would  rush  back  to  his  idol  for  a 
moment  of  comfort,  and  then  hurry  out  again,  with  fresh  zeal,  to  renew  the 
fight.  Likewise  when  snowballs  or  other  missiles  were  hurled  in  his  direction, 
he  would — after  jumping  at  or  chasing  each  one  of  them,  as  a  matter  o£  tradi- 
tional duty — ^whirl  rapidly  around  and  back  himself  up  against  the  saw-horse, 
before  making  the  next  onset.  Such  contact  with  it  seemed  to  give  him  in- 
domitable courage  and  perseverance.  I  think  he  cherished  the  notion  not 
only  that  defeat  and  retreat  were  alike  impossible,  so  long  as  this  magic  de- 
vice was  behind  him,  but  that  his  onslaughts  on  the  missiles  somehow  served 
to  defend  it  from  insult  and  desecration.    His  batt1e<ry  seemed  to  be : 

"  WhDe  stands  the  sturdy  SawJwrae.  Curi  dull  stand ; 
When  falb  the  fated  Saw-hone.  Curl  shaB  fall : 

And  when  Curi  falls,  the  wurid!**  ^  — 

i 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS.  41 1 

I  never  bad  tlie  heart  to  deprive  the  Aog  of  this  priceless  treasure,  for  any 
great  length  of  lime,  and  1  usually  took  pains  to  let  it  stand  in  some  easily 
accessible  &pot,  shady  in  summer  and  sunny  in  winter.  But  whenever  1  did 
indulge  in  the  perverse  pleasure  of  eiasperatiiig  Curl  to  the  heart-breaking 
point,  and  witnessing  his  dismay  when,  having  hurried  ofi  to  seek  the  solace 
which  a  saw-hoise  grants,  he  found  his  idol  had  been  removed  from  its 
wonted  shrine, — ^in  fact,  whenever,  for  any  reason,  this  idol  wa«  not  accessible 
to  him, — Carl  adopted  another  device  for  doing  penance  which  was  almost  as 
curious  as  his  original  infatuation.  There  stood  behind  the  high  fence  of  the 
bam-yaid  a  certain  flat-roofed  shed,  in  which  were  stored  stacks  of  cord-wood, 
and  heavy  bits  of  logs,  sawn  into  shape  for  use  in  the  tire-place.  Thrown 
roughly  together,  they  made  an  insecure  sort  of  a  pyramid,  whose  apei, 
tottering  just  beneath  the  roof,  was  a  favorite  place  for  the  baiting  of  Cur] 
with  meat.  In  his  endeavors  to  reach  the  bait,  the  dog  would  usually  pull 
down  several  togs  and  roll  with  them  to  the  bottom, — getting,  of  course, 
somewhat  bruised  and  ruffled  by  the  process.  When,  however,  the  saw- 
horse  could  not  be  found,  or  when  it  was  exposed  to  a  ponring  rain,  Curl,  if 
in  affliction,  would  voluntarily  resort  to  this  unsteady  wood-pile  (which,  ordi- 
narily, he  was  distrustful  of,  when  the  endeavor  was  made  to  persuade  him  to 
ascend  it  by  baits),  and  would  pull  down  the  loose  logs  upon  himself,  and 
bite  them,  with  every  appearance  of  ferocious  satisfaction.  In  spite  of  all 
tumbles,  he  would  usually  persevere  until  he  reached  the  summit;  and  his 
ability,  while  there,  Co  bump  his  head  against  the  roof,  each  time  that  he 
uttered  a  wrathful  bark,  seemed  specially  gratifying  to  him. 

Curl  was  boin  in  the  summer  of  1356 ;  and,  as  the  illiterate  people  who 
presided  over  his  birth  preserved  no  written  record  of  the  exact  day  of  it,  I 
insisted  that  it  must  have  been  the  Fourth  of  July.  That,  certainly,  was  to 
me  the  happiest  day  in  all  the  calendar ;  and  during  no  other  day  did  Curl 
himself  stick  so  steadfastly  by  the  saw-horse  and  devote  himself  so  unreserv- 
edly to  serious  meditation.  Another  supposititious  date  of  his  birth,  advanced 
by  a  certain  member  of  the  household  (whose  gross  partisanship  as  a  Repub- 
lican obscured  the  nobler  sentiment  of  patriotism},  was  the  day  when  that 
new.born  party  nominated  its  first  Presidential  candidate,  Colonel  John  C 
Fremont  Party  spirit  even  went  bo  far  as  to  decree  that  the  new  dog^ust 
rescued  from  the  actual  groggery  and  the  prospective  flghting-pit — should  he 
formally  named  "Colonel   Fremont,"    But  my  own   ten-year-old  foot   was 


422         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

word  **  Colonel "  was  obliged  to  abandon  it  as  obsolete  and  ineffective  in  ref- 
erence to  the  noble  animal. 

In  political  affiliation,  Curl  classified  himself  with  those  who  were  known 
as  "  War  Democrats."  Yes,  he  would  say,  "  I  goes  in  for  Dabe  Linknn, 
Ginral  Scott,  Ginral  Micklenan,  and  all  the  fine  ginrals  and  sojers  uv  the 
Union  army, — pretickerlerly  T.  F.  Mahher,  and  the  gallant  Crunnel  Crorcro- 
ran,  of  the  69th  rigiment,  Mahher's  brigade."  Such  was  his  "  platform,"  as 
inscribed  upon  the  Union  flag,  nailed  fast  to  the  door  of  his  den,  in  the  **  dark 
days  of  '61."  When  I  called  his  attention  to  the  peculiar  orthography  of 
this,  or  reminded  him  that  no  "  r "  was  needed  in  the  spelling  of  "  dog," 
Curl  smiled  sadly  and  said  in  response  that  he  was  a  plain,  blunt  bull-dog, 
whose  early  educational  advantages  had  been  limited,  who  was  now  too  old 
to  learn  new  tricks,  who  never  made  any  pretensions  to  elegance,  and  for 
whom,  therefore,  any  kind  of  spelling  was  good  enough.  There  were  occa- 
sions, perhaps  a  half-dozen  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  when  Curl  left  the 
farm  for  a  day  and  a  night  at  a  time,  and  returned  with  blood-shot  eyes  and 
disheveled  hair,  and  a  generally  damaged  and  depraved  appearance,  which 
betrayed  the  fact  that  he  had  been  treading  in  paths  of  vice.  At  such  times 
I  used  to  profess  my  belief  that  he  had  revisited  the  vile  groggery  whence  we 
had  rescued  him*;  that  he  had  freely  volunteered  to  help  his  former  master 
dispense  rum  and  gin  to  wretched  customers  over  the  counter,  or  even  to 
mix  drinks  for  the  more  luxurious  ones ;  and  that  I  had  no  doubt  he  gloried 
in  his  shame,  and  secretly  wished  he  might  always  be  a  wicked  and  despised 
saloon-keeper  instead  of  an  honest  and  respected  farmer. 

Outside  the  farm,  I  never  admitted  that  Curl  had  any  individual  name. 
I  always  designated  him  simply  as  "  the  Dog," — ^by  eminence  and  superiority 
the  dog ;  since  there  could  be  no  other  worth  my  talking  about.  Even  in  later 
years,  when  I  introduced  his  portrait  into  the  steel-plate  vignette  of  a  college 
secret-society,  and  had  it  emblazoned  on  the  drop-curtain  in  the  society-hall, 
I  insisted  that  my  classmates  should  know  it  only  as  '*  the  dog."  The  health 
of  Curl  always  seemed  rugged,  until  impaired  by  artificial  means ;  though, 
from  a  very  early  period,  he  was  troubled  occasionally  by  spells  of  a  sort  of 
whooping  cough,  whose  spasms  would  almost  strangle  him.  When  they  were 
over,  he  would  wag  his  tail  and  wink,  as  much  as  to  say :  "  It 's  of  no  con- 
sequence, gentlemen,  I  'm  only  in  fun."  But  the  paralysis  which  came  upon 
CurFs  hind-quarters — as  a  result  of  poison,  left  within  his  reach  by  some 
malicious  or  careless  person — was  a  much  more  serious  matter.  The  liberal 
doses  of  raw-eggs  and  sulphur,  which  were  administered  to  him  as  an  anti- 
dote, and  which  he  swallowed  with  apparent  intelligence  of  the  design  to 
help  him,  did  indeed  bring  back  to  him  the  control  of  his  limbs  and  help  pro- 
long his  life.  But  his  full  strength  did  not  come  back.  He  was  never  again 
the  same  dog.  He  no  longer  had  power  to  spring  into  the  market-wagon,  or 
scale  the  big  board  fence.  His  attempts  at  ^  circling "  were  brief  and  in- 
effective.   Even  the  sad  luxury  of  crawling  through  the  saw-horse  became 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL^DOGS.  423 

increasingly  difficult  of  attainment.  The  vision  of  one  eye  was  ultimately 
impaired  by  the  poison.  The  dog's  intellectual  traits  and  characteristics, 
however,  remained  unchanged  until  the  last. 

He  never  could  be  made  to  really  look  upon  his  own  reflection  in  the 
mirror,  but  would  turn  away  his  eyes  from  it  restlessly,  as  if  it  were  some 
trick  or  deception,  which  he  did  not  comprehend,  and  did  not  wish  in  any  way 
to  be  mixed  up  with.  The  sight  of  a  person  lying  in  bed  oppressed  him  with 
apprehension  and  dismay.  A  bed-chamber  itself  he  regarded  as  an  uncanny 
place,  ile  was  always  uncomfortable  when  summoned  there ;  and  the  signal 
to  run  down  stairs  was  hailed  with  a  joyous  bark  of  relief.  In  winter  even- 
ings, he  liked  to  stretch  himself  out,  close  beside  the  stove  or  fire-place,  and 
doze  there  in  a  heat  that  was  «dmost  intense  enough  to  roast  him.  He  often 
snored  loudly,  and,  as  became  a  dog  of  his  superstitious  nature,  he  was  not 
infrequently  vexed  by  dreams  and  visions  and  nightmares.  I  remen^ber  that 
he  once,  while  in  profound  slumber,  went  through  all  the  motions  of  scenting 
out  and  digging  up  an  imaginary  bone  which  he  had  buried.  Usually,  how- 
ever, the  phantasm  took  the  guise  of  another  dog — presumably  Jack — with 
whom  he  grappled  and  fought.  On  such  occasions  the  muffled  growls  and 
barks,  and  suppressed  snapping  of  the  jaws,  had  such  a  peculiarly  ghostly 
effect  that  I  was  always  greatly  interested  in  watching  them.  Less  sym- 
pathetic observers,  however,  sometimes  thought  them  disagreeable  ;  and  I  re- 
call the  fact  that,  on  a  certain  rainy  Sunday,  when  some  newly-arrived  guests 
of  the  house  were  left  alone  there,  during  the  hours  of  church  service,  with 
the  assurance  that  Curl  would  supply  companionship  and  protection,  his 
slumbrous  activity  caused  them  considerable  alarm.  The  convulsive  twitch- 
tngs  of  his  legs  and  jaws,  and  defiant  vibrations  of  his  tail,  were  accepted  by 
them  as  symptoms  of  approaching  madness ;  and  his  muttered  growlings  Were 
thought  to  be  a  warning  of  his  probable  attack  upon  them  if  they  attempted 
to  leave  the  room.  So  they  sat  still  in  their  chairs  until  the  return  of  the 
family  from  church  released  them  from  the  seemingly  perilous  protection  of 
this  dreadful  guardian. 

When  the  time  came  for  the  household  to  retire,  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
mistress  thereof  to  say  "  Come,  Curl,  you  want  to  go  out  I  "  and  to  impress 
that  assumed  want  upon  his  recognition  by  various  wheedling  remarks  as  to 
his  personal  goodness ;  or  even  by  pretenses  that  Black  Jack  was  about  to  be 
regaled  with  an  appetizing  repast,  just  outside  the  door.  At  such  times.  Curl 
would  finally  arise,  with  great  deliberation,  yawn  tremendously,  stretch  him- 
self almost  flat  to  the  floor — ^first  by  a  forward  motion  of  the  fore  legs  and  then 
by  a  backward  push  of  the  hind  legs — and  at  last  advance  with  incredible 
slowness  of  tread  towards  the  indicated  vdt»  The  instant  that  the  door  closed 
upon  him,  however,  he  would  riii|MriHfea|^|OMd  down  the  brick  walk, 
barking  briskly ;  and  having  ^fl^^^^^^^^W^pHllir  gate  b«i  ^itfinued 
defiance  of  Jack  and 
night    In  case  the 


424  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  door, — ^and  he  often  interrupted  it,  to  gaze  critically  upon  the  pictures  and 
furniture,  or,  haply,  upon  the  ceiling, — by  dragging  upon  his  collar,  he  would 
resent  the  insult  with  a  growl  of  such  profundity  and  apparent  wickedness  that 
she  usually  respected  it  and  returned  to  moral  suasion.  "  Mother  is  really 
the  only  person  left  in  the  family  whom  Curl  can  scare : "  that,  towards  the 
last,  was  a  recognized  joke  with  all  the  rest  of  us.  It  did  seem  funny  that  any 
one  who  had  lived  for  long  years  **  behind  the  scenes," — ^where  every  act  of 
Curl's  was  known  to  have  reflected  the  real  harmlessness  of  disposition,  the 
real  gentleness  of  heart,  which  lay  concealed  beneath  his  rough  exterior,  and 
his  conventional  assumptions  of  ferocity,— could  actually  be  afraid  of  him.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  Curl's  sense  of  humor  led  him  to  enjoy  the  joke  also ;  and 
that,  in  his  old  age,  when  the  mistress  assumed  courage  enough  to  hasten  him 
along  by  the  collar,  as  all  his  other  familiars  had  habitually  done  from  his 
early  youth,  the  knowledge  that  his  blood-curdling  growls  had  ceased  to 
be  accepted  as  serious,  was  a  source  of  secret  sorrow  to  him.  It  was  a  sort  of 
last  straw,  which  betokened  that  the  end  was  near. 

Curl  died  on  a  cold  Sunday  night  in  winter, — ^the  night  of  the  24th  of  Jan* 
uary,  1869.  I  was  sixty  miles  away  from  him, — as  I  had  been,  indeed,  during 
most  of  the  four  years  of  my  college  course,  then  ending, — but  I  think  that 
some  subtle  touch  of  the  saw-horse  had  inspired  his  prophetic  soul  with  a 
knowledge  of  the  first  incoming  wave  of  that  mania  for  "  velocipeding,"  which 
was  destined  to  mark  the  month  as  memorable  in  the  annals  of  American  cy- 
cling. I  think  he  foresaw  that  the  velocipede — ^the  fore-runner  of  the  modem 
bicycle — ^was  destined  to  receive  from  me  an  enthusiastic  welcome.  I  think 
he  realized  that  my  admiration  for  his  own  particular  "  circling  **  was  about  to 
be  supplanted  by  my  admiration  for  *'  cycling  "  in  general.  I  think  that  his 
resentment  of  the  notion  of  my  pushing  about  a  velocipede  or  bicycle  (a  mech- 
anism far  more  scandalous  and  repulsive  to  his  sense  of  propriety  than  the 
wheelbarrow  with  which  I  had  sometimes  vexed  him)  was  so  extreme  that  he 
decided  he  would  not  live  to  witness  the  shameful  sight.  So,  alone  in  the 
cold  and  darkness  of  a  winter's  midnight,  he  dragged  his  tottering  limbs  out 
from  his  snugly  sheltered  den,  and,  in  a  final  search  for  the  saw-horse,  dropped 
down  dead  in  the  snow. 

Yet  not  altogether  alone  did  my  old  friend  die.  During  the  last  year  of 
Curl's  life,  as  a  re-enforcement  to  his  waning  activities  as  a  defender,  there 
was  introduced  upon  the  farm  a  small  house-dog,  whose  color  gave  him  the 
name  of  "Buff,"  but  whose  character  was  best  reflected  by  the  title  of 
"Uriah  Heep."  I  myself  invariably  addressed  him  in  this  way,  and  he  never 
denied  the  justice  of  the  stigma,  or  resented  the  application  of  it ;  for  he 
the  most  hypocritically  "  umble  "  and  meanest-spirited  dog  in  the  entirt  cT 
of  my  acquaintance.  Curl  never  so  much  as  admitted  that  he  was  II  d|| 
all  (for  it  would  have  broken  his  heart  to  recognize  the  preser- 
of  any  real  canine  rival,  or  to  abate  a  jot  of  the  pretense— < 
by  him  to  the  last — that  he  was  the  supreme  commander,  fi* 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS. 


4^5 


protect  all  the  interests  of  the  farm),  but  he  gave  Uriah  a  sort  of  con- 
temptuous toleration,  as  if  he  ranlced  him  in  the  same  clasa  with  the  cats. 
Though  Curl  would  quickly  resent  any  kind  atlenlions  shown  to  any  other 
dog,  no  matter  how  small ;  though  he  was  disturbed  when  marked  deference 
was  paid  to  a  visiting  baby,  and  was  distressed  when  members  of  the  house- 
hold exhibited  any  interest  or  admiration  in  gazing  upon  a  newly-born  colt,  or 
calf,  or  pig, — he  maintained  a  serene  indifference  as  to  Uriah.  No  amount  of 
slrokings  bestowed  upon  the  sleek  head  of  that  despicable  character  could 
arouse  Curl's  jealousy,  or  even  ruffle  his  complacency.  He  simply  ignored 
Uriah.  To  his  consciousness,  there  was  no  such  dog.  Yet  the  ears  of  this 
unrecognized  interloper,  whose  pusillanimous  nature  lowered  him  morally 
beneath  the  level  of  any  respectable  dog's  contempt,  gave  him  a  certain  value 
as  a  guardian  of  the  public  safety.  The  least  disturbance  of  the  wonted  quiet 
of  night-time  attracted  his  instant  attention,  and  was  promptly  announced  by 
a  very  sharp  and  penetrating  voice.  The  habit  was  no  credit  to  him, — for  he 
was  a  consummate  coward,  who  would  have  fled  from  the  meanest  foe, — but 
it  made  him  useful.  On  the  last  night  of  Curl's  life,  however,  the  usually 
contemptible  Buff  (for  I  will  consent  to  call  him  by  his  baptismal  name  in 
connection  with  this  single  creditable  appearance)  performed  the  only 
admirable  act  of  his  entire  existence.  For  this  one  touch  of  nature,  I  will 
try  to  do  him  justice.  For  this  one  display  of  kindness  and  fortitude, — 
shining  as  it  does  in  contrast  to  the  otherwise  unrelieved  baseness  of  his 
character.^his  memory  shall  alway  find  a  soft  spot  in  my  heart.  Buff,  in 
truth,  made  a  de.'iperale  disturbance,  at  intervals  between  midnight  and 
morning,  on  that  mournful  occasion ;  but  his  barkings  and  scratchings  at  (he 
outer  door  were  all  in  vain.  Those  who  heard  Ihem  did  not  believe  that  the 
trouble  was  serious  enough  to  deserve  inquiring  into  until  morning;  and  so 
they  resumed  their  slumbers.  When  morning  came.  Huff  was  still  alert  and 
demonstrative.  The  earliest-riser  was  promptly  seized  hold  of  by  him  and 
was  led,  with  great  excitement,  along  the  path  which  his  own  feet  had  worn 
through  the  snow,  in  the  course  of  his  vain  vigil.     Buff  had  evidently  run 


XXIX. 

CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS 

That  subtle  essence  which,  in  lack  of  a  more  graphic  tcr- 
**  character,"  though  it  is  sufficiently  rare  among  men,  and  rarer  - 
women,  is  rarest  of  all  among  the  buildings  which  the  human  ra. 
their  habitations.    However  greatly  the  houses  of  men  may  dift 
architecture, — in  outward  appearance  or  inner  arrangement, — < 
apt  to  be  very  much  like  another   in  its  lack  of   inherent  di^ 
The  reader  must  be  a  very  exceptional  and  widely-traveled  pci 
recall  as  many  as  a  dozen  abodes  which  have  impressed  hin 
with  a  genuine  individuality, — as  having  a  nature  essentially 
that  of  every  other  house  in  the  world.    It  is  within  the  ex, 
most  every  one  to  occasionally  meet  with  a  man  whose  pec- 
endowments  create  this  impression,  that  he  is  the  only  one  r 
ever  existed  or   ever  could  exist;   but  an  inanimate  buildi 
this  indescribable  attribute  of  "  character  "  is  so  rare  an  o 
in  a  new  country  like  America — that  I   presume   a  great 
people  whose  lives  have  been  spent  here  have  never  forn 
ance  of  even  one  such  specimen.    Grotesque  and  singular 
exact  types  of  grandeur  or  ugliness  or  absurdity  are  knt 
may  be  found  on  both  slopes  of  the  continent ;  but  they 
trils  with  so  strong  an  odor  of  fresh  paint  and  varnish 
In  a  moral  sense  quite  colorless.    "  Character  "  is  a  proL 
pcricnce,  and  it  can  no  more  be  attached  to  a  house  ) 
thiin  a  "moss-grown,  historic  ruin "  can  be  incorporat 
by  contract  with  the  nearest  stone-cutter, 

London  is  to  me  the  most  interesting  city  in  the  ^ 
umount  of  "character"  which  seems  to  have  accumula* 
nil  the  ages.     It  is  this,   I  take  it,  which  gives  the 
JohiiNon'M  oft-quoted  remark  to  the  effect  that  it  is 
(hat  each  individuars  conception  of  it  reflects  his  o\ 
rlly  of  bunk»,  or  a  city  of  book-shops,  or  a  city  of  tav 
inurkctM,  or  a  city  of  theaters,  or  a  city  of  a  hundred 
to  onc'n  personal  point-of-view.    The  Modern  Baby' 
inhabited  spot  in  Europe  where  a  man  may  mind  hi 
Itito  hhunelf  almost  as  completely  from  observation 
The  fact  that  it  contains  more  people  than  the  citic 

*  Copies  ol  ihii  chapter,  on  heavier  paper,  will  be  mailed  L 


428  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

yott  oould  hardly  fall  the  first  victim  of  any  misfortune.  Probably  the  gentleman  at  the  apothe- 
cary's was  merely  exhausted  by  the  heat,  and  ran  in  there  for  revivaL  The  apothecary  has  a 
case  of  the  kind  on  his  hands  every  blazing  afternoon,  and  knows  just  what  to  do.  The  crowd 
may  be  a  little  tnnuyi  of  sun-strokes,  and  to  that  degree  indifferent,  but  they  most  likely  know 
that  they  can  only  do  harm  by  an  expression  of  sjrmpathy,  and  so  they  delegate  their  pity  as  they 
have  delegated  their  helpfulness  to  the  proper  authority,  and  go  about  their  business.  If  a  man 
was  overcome  in  the  middle  of  a  village  street,  the  blundering  country  druggist  would  n't  know 
what  to  do,  and  the  tender-hearted  people  would  crowd  about  so  that  no  breath  of  air  oould 
reach  the  victim." — "Their  Wedding  Journey,"  by  W.  D.  Howells,  1871,  pp.  53,  54. 

Now,  in  just  the  same  unique  degree  that  New  York  is  distinguished 
above  all  other  American  cities  for  the  lightness  of  its  "  social  pressure,"  so 
is  the  particular  Building  which  I  have  in  mind  to  describe  distinguished 
above  all  other  abodes  in  New  York.  It  offers  the  nearest  approximation  to 
a  home  of  perfect  individual  liberty  that  has  ever  been  heard  of  outsidt  of  a 
wilderness.  I  have  said  that  nothing  comparable  to  it  is  contained  in  Lon- 
don,— which  is  the  only  European  city  where  the  existence  of  its  counterpart 
could  be  conceived  of  as  possible, — and  I  insist  upon  again  designating  it  as 
the  freest  place  to  be  found  anywhere — not  simply  in  free  America  but  on  the 
whole  habitable  globe.  So  singular  a  structure  could  not  well  survive  the 
storms  of  fifty  years  without  attracting  the  notice  of  the  story-tellers;  and 
one  of  them  made  it  serve  effectively  as  the  scene  of  a  society  novel.  I  quote 
his  descriptions,  written  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  as  showing  with  almost 
literal  truthfulness  the  facts  of  to-day : 

"  There's  not  such  another  Rubbish  Palace  m  America,"  said  he,  as  we  left  the  Chuxzle- 
wit  [New  York  Hotel]  by  the  side  door  on  Mannering  [Waverley]  Place  and  descended  from 
Broadway  as  far  as'  Ailanthus  Square.  On  the  comer,  fronting  that  mean,  shabby  enclosure, 
Stillfleet  pointed  out  a  huge  granite  or  rough  marble  building. 

"  There  I  live,"  said  he.  "  It 's  not  a  jail,  as  you  might  suppose  from  its  grimmish  aspect. 
Not  an  Asylum.  Not  a  Retreat.  No  lunatics,  that  I  know  of,  kept  there,  nor  anything  myate^ 
rious,  guilty,  or  out  of  the  vray." 

"  Chrysalis  College,  is  it  not?  " 

*•  You  have  not  forgotten  its  monastic  phiz  ?" 

"  No ;  I  remember  the  sham  convent,  diam  castle,  modem-antique  affair.  But  how  do 
you  happen  to  be  quartered  there?    Is  the  college  defunct ?  " 

"  Not  defunct ;  only  without  vitality.  The  Trustees  fancied  that,  if  they  built  roomy,  their 
college  would  be  populoiis ;  if  they  built  marble,  it  would  be  permanent ;  if  they  built  Gothic, 
it  would  be  scholastic  and  medieval  in  its  mfluences ;  if  they  had  narrow,  mullioned  windows, 
not  too  much  disorganizing  modem  thought  would  penetrate." 

"  Well,  and  what  was  the  result  ?  " 

"  The  result  is  that  the  old  nickname  of  Chrysalis  sticks  to  it,  and  whatever  real  name  it 
may  have  is  forgotten.  There  it  stands,  big,  battlemented,  buttressed,  marble,  with  windows 
like  crenelles ;  and  inside  they  keep  up  the  traditional  methods  of  education." 

•*  But  pupils  don't  beleaguer  it  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  blunt  facL  It  stays  an  ineffectual  high-low  school.  The  halls  and  lecture- 
rooms  would  stand  vacant,  so  they  let  them  to  lodgers." 

"  You  are  not  very  grateful  to  your  landlords." 

"  I  pay  my  rent  and  have  a  right  to  criticise." 

"  Who  live  there  besides  you  ?  " 

"  Several  artists,  a  brace  of  young  doctors,  one  or  two  quiet  men-about-town,  Churm,  and 
myself.     But  here  we  are,  Byng,  at  the  grand  portal  of  the  grand  front." 

'*  I  see  the  front  and  the  door.    Where  is  the  grandeur  ?  " 

"  Don't  put  on  airs,  stranger.    We  call  this  imposing,  magnifique,  m  short,  pretty  good. 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        439 

irjigota  vournoHl  Von  have  IithI  too  Long  La  Ftoreact.  BnicelleKhl  andGionabaTv  apoUt 
TOu,    Well,  I  will  sho*  you  aomelhing  belter  ineide.    Follow  me  1  " 

We  entered  the  edifice,  hall  college,  half  lod^tig-house,  thiough  a  lu^e  doorway,  qnder  i 
pointed  arch.  The  interior  wu  BinguUrly  Ul-coolrived.  A  lobby  opened  at  the  dcxir,  oonunmi- 
cating  with  a  dim  corridor  nuioing  through  the  middle  ol  the  building,  paiallei  to  the  fropL  A 
fao-tiacery  vaultiog  of  plaster,  peeled  and  crumbling,  ceiled  the  lobby.  A  maible  stairway,  with 
iron  hand-raili,  went  iquarely  and  dumsUy  up  from  the  door,  nearly  filling  Ihe  lobby.  Stillfleel 
led  the  way  upitatn.  He  pointed  to  the  fan-uacery.  "  This  of  coune  remindi  yon  of  King'i 
College  Chapel,"  said  he. 

"  Entirely,"  replied  1.    "Pity  it  is  deddutmsC  ^*  and  1  iKxuhed  off  from  my  coat  several 

The  (tain  landed  ua  on  the  main  Soor  of  Ihe  tHuMing.  AniKher  dimly  lighted  corridor, 
antwenng  to  the  one  below,  but  Infiiei,  ran  Irom  end  to  end  of  the  building.  Tliii  also  was 
paied  with  marble  lUei.    Large  Caihicish  dmn  opened  along  on  either  side.    The  middle  loom 

either  ude  of  this  a  narrow  euircau  elimbcd  la  the  upper  6oar>. 

By  the  half-l^t  Irom  the  great  window  over  the  doorway  where  we  bad  entered,  and  from  a 
vngle  mullioned  window  at  the  northern  end  of  the  corridor,  there  was  a  bastard  medizvaliun  of 
efied  io  Chrysalis,  rather  welcome  after  the  bald  red-brick  homei  without. 

We  turned  up  the  echnng  corridor  toward  (he  north  window.    We  passed  a  side  ataircase 

We  could  see  a  swarm  of  collegians  bulling  for  such  dropa  of  the  honey  of  learning  as  they  could 
gel  from  a  lank  plant  of  a  professor.  .  We  stopped  at  Ihe  farther  door  on  the  right,  adjoininf 
the  one  so  carefully  padlocked.  It  bore  my  friend's  plate.  Slillfleet  drew  a  great  key,  aimed  at 
ihe  keyhole  and  snapped  Ihe  boll,  all  with  a  mysterious  and  theatrical  air. 

"  where  am  IV  1  cried,  staring  abont  in  surprise.    "This  is  magic,  phantasmagoria, 

Sfona  of  an  old  f  talian  city,  in  the  great  chamber  where  there  waa  love  and  hate,  passion  and 
despair,  revelry  and  pcqson,  long  before  Columbus  cracked  Ihe  egg." 

"  li  is  a  rather  rum  old  place,"  said  Stillfleel,  twisting  his  third  mustache,  and  enjoying 

"  You  call  it  Ihiny  feet  square  and  seventeen  high?    Built  for  some  grand  college  purpose, 


is  Danleaque,  Byrooic.  Victor 

lb  for  the  dark  room  with  the 
of  Chryaallaf" 


n-    Daggeroni.  De  Bogus,  < 
.iH.  Holt,  1876.  pp.  jte). 


432  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

f ul  thingB  i  for  they  believe  that  among  the  many  institutions  and  persons  quartered  ta  the 
building  is  a  medical  school,  frequented  by  a  large  number  of  heartless  young  doctors." 

The  square  itself,  covering  eight  acres  of  ground,  is  the  largest  one  in 
the  city,  —  excepting  Central  Park,  whose  area  is  just  a  hundred  times 
greater,  and  whose  lower  boundary  is  two  and  a  half  miles  to  the  northward. 
The  deed  of  the  transfer  of  the  eight  acres  in  1797,  when  the  city  purchased 
them  from  the  Smith  estate  to  form  a  Potter's  Field,  called  for  "  ninety  lots 
on  Sandy  Hill  lane."  Thirty  years  later,  when  the  place  was  converted  into 
Washington  Parade  Ground,  burials  there  had  been  for  a  long  time  unknown. 
The  novelist  whom  I  have  first  quoted  called  it  (i860)  "a  mean,  shabby  en- 
closure. Ailanthus  Square  was  indeed  a  wretched  place,  stiffly  laid  out, 
shabbily  kept,  planted  with  mean  twigless  trees ;  and  in  the  middle  stood  the 
basin  of  an  extinct  fountain,  filled  with  foul  snow,  through  which  the  dead 
cats  and  dogs  were  beginning  to  sprout,  at  the  solicitation  of  the  winter  sun- 
shine. A  dreary  place,  and  drearily  surrounded  by  red  b^ick  houses,  with 
marble  steps  monstrous  white,  and  blinds  monstrous  green, — all  destined  to 
be  boarding-houses  in  a  decade."  The  prophecy  was  not  fulfilled,  however, 
for  a  recent  chronicler  has  truthfully  said :  "  The  whole  neighborhood  was 
formerly  one  of  the  most  quiet  and  fashionable  in  the  city,  and  along  the 
north  front  of  the  park  it  is  so  still."  A  view  of  this  "  north  front,"  and  of 
the  northwest  turret  of  the  University,  is  impressed  upon  the  cover  of 
Henry  James's  novel  called  "Washington  Square"  (N  Y.:  Harpers,  1881,  pp. 
223),  into  which  he  inserts  a  "  topographical  parenthesis  "  as  follows  (p.  23)  : 

The  ideal  of  quiet  and  of  genteel  retirement,  in  1835,  was  found  in  Washington  Square, 
where  the  Doctor  built  himself  a  handsome,  modem,  wide-fronted  house,  with  a  big  balcony 
before  the  drawing-room  windows,  and  a  flight  of  white^narble  steps  ascending  to  a  portal  which 
was  also  faced  with  white  marble.  This  structure,  and  many  of  its  neighbors,  which  it  exactly 
resembled,  were  supposed,  forty  years  ago,  to  embody  the  last  results  of  architectural  sdenoe, 
and  they  remain  to  this  day  very  solid  and  honorable  dwellings.  In  front  of  them  was  the 
square,  containing  a  considerable  quantity  of  inexpensive  vegetation,  enclosed  by  a  wooden 
paling,  which  increased  its  rural  and  accessible  appearance ;  and  round  the  comer  was  the 
more  august  precinct  of  the  Fifth  Avqnue,  taking  its  origin  at  this  point  with  a  spacious  and 
confident  air  which  already  marked  it  for  high  destinies.  I  know  not  whether  it  is  owing  to 
the  tenderness  of  early  associations,  but  this  portion  of  New  York  appears  to  many  persons  the 
most  delectable.  It  has  a  kind  of  established  repose  which  is  not  of  frequent  oocurreoce  in 
other  quarters  of  the  laige,  shrill  city;  it  has  a  riper,  richer,  more  honorable  look,  than  any  of 
the  upper  ramiiications  of  the  great  longitudinal  thoroughfare — the  look  of  having  had  some- 
thing of  a  social  history.  It  was  here,  as  you  might  have  been  informed  on  good  authority, 
that  you  had  come  into  a  world  which  appeared  to  offer  a  variety  of  sources  of  interest ;  it  was 
here  that  your  grandmother  lived,  in  venerable  solitude,  and  dispensed  a  hospitality  which  oom- 
mended  itsdf  alike  to  the  infant  imagination  and  the  infant  palate ;  it  was  here  that  you  took 
your  first  walks  abroad,  following  the  nursery  maid  with  unequal  step,  and  sniffing  up  the  stzai^e 
odor  of  the  ailanthus  trees  which  at  that  time  formed  the  principal  umbrage  of  the  Square,  and 
diffused  an  aroma  which  you  were  not  yet  critical  enough  to  dislike  as  it  deserved. 

Elsewhere  the  novelist  says  of  his  heroine :  "  She  preferred  the  house 
in  Washington  Square  to  any  other  habitation  whatever,  and  •  •  •  the 
middle  of  August  found   her  still  in  the  heated  solitude  of  Washington 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS. 


433 


Square."  When  the  palings  were  taken  down,  and  the  park  otherwUe  "im- 
proved," more  than  a  decade  ago,  the  mistake  was  made  o(  cutting  it  in  two 

by  a  roadway, — under  the  pretense  o£  a  necewity  for  giving  a  direct  outlet  to 
the  traffic  of  Fifth  Avenue  into  the  two  streets  obliquely  opposite.  Sinte 
then,  two  more-serious  assaults  on  the  integrity  of  the  park  have  been  made 
and  decisively  baffled.  One  plan  contemplated  using  it  as  an  approach  to  the 
Hudson  Kiver  Tunnel,  and  the  other  sought  to  erect  upon  it  a  regimental 
armory.  From  a  journalistic  protest  against  the  latter  desecration,  I  extract 
this  sympathetic  and  accurate  account  of  the  Square  as  it  appears  to-day: 

The  xork  ii  one  of  die  oldeu  uid  pteuint  in  the  dtf.  With  the  [ncturaqiie  Uoivenlt^ 
baQdings  w  Ihe  ast  aide,  and  to  du  north  the  old-faihiodcd,  inbnudal  dweUu^liouieft — doi 
A  wDoden  mw  of  "  fouc-aloiy,  high-etoop,  brown-MODe  froati,"  but  a  quiet  nw  ol  weU^iuDt 
hoiuu,  lUKgeuiiiK  a  liie  within  of  a  differeiit  ion  from  that  led  by  Ihe  McGUlicuddfi  and  the 
Podpban — removed  from  (he  rou  and  bustle  of  Brcudway,  it  Beena,  what  JD  [act  it  ia,  a  qiurln- 
otf  an  older  and  pleautiter  town  vhich  luduly  hu  eacjped  the  nvagei  of  contractors  and  sireel. 
Dpenen,  and  iurrives  to  remind  us  thai  dty  life  is  not  oecenaHly  ugly  and  repulsive.  Waafa. 
JK^tDD  Square,  too,  la  one  of  the  fev  public  par^  in  the  older  parta  of  the  dty  in  which  rich  and 
poor  [Beet  on  common  ground.  The  aouth  aide  of  the  aqnare  and  the  atreeta  near  it  ajc  inhab. 
itedby  people  of  the  poorer  daai  who  have  looked  upon  the  puk  for  yean  aa  tfaeir  children'a 
play  ground,  and  do  Sundays  and  public  holida^rs  in  the  spring  and  early  summer  it  is  pleasant 
Id  notice  that  the  shade  of  the  fine  old  trees  and  the  cool  breeics  are  not  monopoliud  by  the 
ridi  at  the  eipeuae  of  the  poor,  nor  by  Ihe  poor  to  the  exduaion  of  the  rich,  but  are  really  dem- 
ocraltcally  shared  by  both  daasea.  For  a  demomlic  dly  il  is  dnfuiar  how  little  thia  is  the  caae 
in  moat  of  the  old  parka.  They  geoerally  fall  prey  lo  some  distinct  daas,  is  with  Tompkins 
Sjoare,  or  else  become  mere  thoroughfares,  like  Madison  and  Union  Squares.  But  WashlBg- 
loa  Square  has  preserved  this  characterialic  of  a  bygone  time,  and  with  its  fountain,  and  its 
brmd  walks  and  ihady  seats,  filled  with  merry  children,  nurses  with  th«r  white  laps,  and  here 
and  there  a  group  of  enterpriaing  hovaeholders  spen^ng  ihe  rnoning  4/.^ifff  with  their  ne^h- 
b«i,lnogj»tstamll7the  pictures  of  life  in  New  York  handed  down  to  US  by  our  grandmothers, 
when  the  Bowling  Green  was  in  all  ila  glory,  and  Ihe  Von  TniHersand  SluyvaantB  uaedtotake 
Iheitiftemoon  stroll  opou  Ihe  Battery.— I^  ^Vo/wi,  March  7,  i8;g,  p.  169. 

I  have  taken  pains   to  present  this  great  variety  of  citations,  as  a  pre- 
liminary to  tny  own  story,  in  order  that  their  united  testimony,  concerning 
the  phenomenal   amount  of  "character"  concentrated  upon  this  particular 
point   in   the  metropolis,  may  convince   the    reader  that  the  tale   is  worth 
the  telling.     The  legal  style  and  title  of  tbc  institution  !s  "The   University 
of  the  City  of  New  York."    lu  eomer-stone  was  laid  in  July,  1833,  and  its 
rooms   were   first   occupied  for  purposes   of   instruction   in   1S35.     Mean- 
lime  its  erection  had  been  the  cause  of  a  "  stons-cuttcrs'  riot,"  arising  from 
the  fact  that  the  material  used  to  fc 
by  convicts  of  the  State  at  Sing  Sin 
at  great  expense,  because,  as  ortgj 
belonging  to  the  city.    These  initia 
Ihe  eiecutive  misfortunes  which  ha 
the  problem  of  management.     The 
understand  it,  was  Ihe  business  pat 
crippled   the  men  of  wealth  upon 


434  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

pride  the  trustees  had  confidently  counted  for  the  proper  endowment  of 
professorships.  Neither  Harvard  nor  Yale  possessed  at  that  period  a  single 
building  which  could  claim  any  architectural  attribute  beyond  what  attaches 
to  a  rectangular  pile  of  red  bricks  (or  of  white  stone— for  Harvard  had  one 
such  structure) ;  and  though  Princeton  could  point  with  pride  to  ttie  brown 
sandstone  front  of  Nassau  Hall,  against  which  Washington  fired  his  cannon, 
^-and  which  was,  when  erected  in  1756,  "the  finest  building  between  New 
York  and  Philadelphia"— the  first  really  massive  and  imposing  collegiate 
pile  put  up  on  this  continent  was  that  of  the  New  York  University.  It  was 
one  of  the  very  largest,  if  not  the  largest,  of  all  the  big  buildings  then  to  be 
found  within  the  limits  of  America's  biggest  city  ;  and  marvelous  as  has  been 
the  growth  of  that  city  within  the  intermediate  half-century,  there  are  not 
many  of  its  monster  buildings  of  to-day  which  cover  a  greater  superficial  area 
or  make  a  greater  impression  upon  the  memory  of  the  casual  passer-by.^ 

The  dream  of  the  founders  doubtless  was  to  endow  their  professorships 
on  a  proportionately  magnificent  scale, — to  make  the  emoluments  of  service 
in  this  great  **  university  "  as  much  superior  to  those  of  the  poorly-paid  in- 

^A  picture  of  Washington  Square,  surmounting  similar  ones  of  Union  and  Madison  squares, 
may  be  found  on  the  554th  page  of  the  second  volume  of  "  Picturesque  America  "  (N.  Y  : 
Appletons,  1872),  accompanied  by  this  remark:  "  The  castellated-looking  building  on  its  eastern 
border  is  the  University,  a  Gothic  pile  of  considerable  age  and  quaint  aq)ect,  suggestive  of  the 
mediaeval  structures  that  lie  scattered  through  the  European  countries."  The  sketch  gives  the 
Building  a  squatty  appearance,  however,  quite  different  from  its  actual  loftiness ;  and  no  proper 
conception  of  this  is  afforded  by  the  little  wood-cut  in  "Duyckinck's  Cyclopaedia  "  (IL,  733). 
The  picture  which  I  have  had  printed  on  the  fly-lead  of  subscribers'  copies  of  this  book,  though 
equally  small,  is  fairly  satisfactory,  amd  is  taken  from  the  southwest  That  also  is  the  frontage 
shown  by  the  larger  and  better  cut  in  Mrs.  Martha  J.  Lamb's  "  History  of  the  City  of  New  Yorii " 
(ii.,  719),  which  says  :  "  It  was  a  Gothic  structure  of  white  freestone,  modeled  after  King's  Col- 
lege, England,  and  was  esteemed  a  masterpiece  of  pointed  architecture,  with  its  octagonal  tur> 
rets  rismg  at  eaich  of  the  four  comers.  It  was  a  fine  edifice,  180  feet  long  by  xoo  feet  wide,  on 
Washington  Square,  which  was  then  (the  corner  stone  was  laid  in  1833)  quite  a  long  rfi«»tM»r> 
from  the  city,  whose  population  was  about  200,000.  It  was  opened  in  1835,  and  publidy  detfi- 
cated  May  20,  1837.  The  rooms  of  the  upper  story  adjacent  to  the  chapel  on  the  north  aide 
were  occupied  by  Professor  S.  F.  B.  Morse  and  his  pupils ;  and  in  the  following  September, 
having  completed  the  first  crude  telegraph  recording  apparatus,  he  exhibited  to  a  select  assembly 
at  the  University  the  operation  of  the  new  system,  showing  his  ability  to  communicate  between 
points  five  miles  apart  (p.  742).  In  the '  stone-cutters'  rebellion '  the  men  paraded  the  streets  widi 
incendiary  placards  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  attadc  several  houses.  The  troops  wei«  called 
out  amd,  after  dispersing  the  malcontents,  lay  under  arms  in  Washington  Square  four  days  amd 
four  nights."  Biographical  details  concerning  the  professors  and  other  people  interested  in  the 
Enterprise  cover  more  than  two  pages  in  "  Duyckinck's  Cyclopaedia  of  American  Literature  '* 
(1850),  already  alluded  to,  but  the  only  remarks  that  seem  worth  my  quoting  are  these  :  "  The 
erection  of  the  building,  and  the  period  of  commercial  depression  which  followed  its  commenoe- 
ment,  weighed  heavily  on  the  fortunes  of  the  jroung  institution.  It  wa»  the  first  tnt 
on  any  considerable  scale,  of  the  English  collegiate  style  of  architecture."  The  "Suppl< 
of  1866  "  to  the  work  just  quoted  offered  this  additional  fact  about  the  University  :  "  Its  debt 
of  $70,250  was  paid  June  14,  1854.  Immediately  afterwards  the  council  proceeded  to  carry  oat 
the  great  aim  of  the  institution  by  measures  for  organizing  the  School  of  Aft,  the  Sdiotd  etf 
Civil  Enghieering,  and  the  School  of  Analytical  and  Practical  Chemistry." 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        435 

mere  "colleges"  like  Harvard  and  Vale,  m  this  pretentious 
academic  palace  of  the  metropolis  nai  superior  to  the  mean  rectangular 
barracks  which  sheltered  their  students  in  the  little  provincial  dties  of  Can^ 
bridge  and  New  Haven.  No "donnitory  system"  was  to  be  tolerated  here; 
no  undergraduates  whatever  were  to  be  lodged  in  this  latest  temple  of  learn- 
ing ;  all  of  its  apartments  were  to  be  devoted  to  purposes  of  instruction  and 
government}  and  professors  and  students  alike  were  to  make  their  homes 
where  they  pleased,  throughout  the  city,  as  is  the  cusion  of  university  life  in 
Germany.  The  Chancellor  and  the  Vice  Chancellor,  however  (so  common  a 
title  as  "President"  naturally  Heemed  inadequate  for  the  eiecutive  chief  of 
so  grand  an  institution  I ),  were  to  occupy  the  two  houses  which  are  attached 
to  the  flanks  of  the  main  edifice,  on  parallel  streets,  and  which  justify  the 
occasional  designation  of  it  in  the  pluial.  The  second  part  of  (he  founders' 
dream— or  perhaps  1  may  better  say  the  second  original  feature  in  their 
scheme — concerned  the  attraction  of  endowments  by  the  device  of  so  const!- 
toting  its  governing  board  as  to  "represent  no  single  religious  denomination," 
(bough  at  the  same  time  "  keeping  the  Unirersity  under  distinct  religious  and 
evangelical  influence."  All  the  earlier  colleges  had  been  started  by  sectarians 
avowedly  as  feeders  for  some  particular  church  denomination  ;  and  I  believe 
the  University  of  Virginia  (which  hod  been  got  into  operation  hardly  half-a- 
dozen  years  before,  just  as  its  famous  founder,  Thomas  Jefferson,  drew  his  lat- 
est breath)  was  the  first  important  academic  experiment  ever  attempted  in 
America  withoat  the  aid  and  control  of  the  clergy. 

The  theorj',  therefore,  seemed  then  sufficiently  plausible,  that,  as  the  cler- 
ical inflaence  of  a  single  religious  order  had  been  able  to  attract  enough  funds 
(or  foundingsnd  endowing  many  a  fairly  prosperous  college,  such  influence  in 
several  powerful  denominations  combined  might  suiSce  for  creating  and  main- 
taining a  colossal  university,  of  a  scope  and  dignity  commensurate  with  the 
weahhand  splendor  of  the  metropolis.    The  practical  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
making  a  combination  of  that  sort  really  effective  to-day  are  generally  recog- 
nised as  insuperable  ;  and  I  am  probably  not  alone  in  believing  that  they  were 
insuperable  in  1830.     I  do  not  think  that,  at  the  best,  the  trustees  could  have 
collected  money  enough  to  malw  their  professorial  chairs  the  "  softest "  seats 
of  the  sort  attainable  in  America, — money  enough  to  have  finally  formed  a 
Faculty  outranking  in  fame  and  Influence  the  educational  staff  of  every  other 
college.     But  except  for  the  business  disaster  of  1837,  they  might  very  likely 
have  secured  sufficient  endowments  to  have  given  the  institution  a  prosperous 
start  and  allowed  It  to  make  a  fair  test  of  whatever  distil 
attached  (o  the  plans  of  its  organisers.     I  have  called  tha 
an  irremediable  one,  because,  although  the  rich  men  of 
their  money  in  support  of    educational  enterprises  with 
sectns  incomprehensible  to  a  foreigner,  they  almost  alwa 
"  founders,"  even  when  (E^y  do  not  insist  on  attaching  Ih 
tbeir  gifts.     The   common    human   desire  to  create,  to 


436  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

among  the  first,  controls  the  coarse  of  their  generosity.  The  argument  which 
demonstrates  that  all  money  added  to  the  endowment  of  an  old  college  does 
ten  times  as  much  good  as  the  same  amount  spent  in  founding  a  new  one,  has 
never  been  seriously  disputed ;  but  the  new  schemes,  nevertheless,  are  the 
ones  to  which  the  wealth  of  the  wealthy  may  be  most  easily  attracted.  Fifty 
years  ago,  furthermore,  the  sense  of  locality  was  as  strong  here  as  it  now  is 
in  the  lesser  American  cities,  so  that  the  pride  of  citizenship  could  be  suc- 
cessfully appealed  to  for  stirring  a  man's  generosity  in  behalf  of  any  project 
calculated  to  ennoble  the  name  and  fame  of  his  native  town.  But  to-day  this 
feeling  is  so  completely  obliterated  that,  to  the  minds  of  most  of  the  two 
millions  of  people  here  congregated,  the  name  **  New  York  City  **  means  just 
what  the  name  **  London  "  did  to  the  mind  of  Dr.  Johnson ;  — it  means  simply 
"  the  world."  One's  personal  pride  In  the  present  planet — as  distinguished 
from  the  sun  or  the  moon,  or  any  less  familiar  member  of  the  universe — 
may  be  very  sincere  and  hearty,  but  it  is  too  vague  a  sentiment  to  prompt  the 
loosening  of  one's  purse-strings ;  it  cannot  be  traded  upon  as  can  the  West- 
em  man's  fierce  desire  to  see  Chicago  exalted  above  St.  Louis.  The  exist- 
ence of  "  the  Board  of  Regents  of  the  University  of  the  State  of  New  York  " 
(a  body  having  a  sort  of  visitorial  power  in  respect  to  the  institutions  of 
higher  education  chartered  by  the  State,  but  authorized  also  to  itself  confer 
academic  degrees),  and  of  ^  the  College  of  the  City  of  New  York  '*  (which  was 
formerly  called  '*  the  Free  Academy,"  and  which  is  carried  on  by  the  dty 
government  as  a  sort  of  crown  to  the  free  public  school  system,  being  the 
only  American  college  maintained  by  municipal  taxes),  are  two  facts  which 
serve  to  impair  still  further  the  local  significance  of  the  title  of  the  institution 
which  I  am  describing;  because  its  identity  is  often  confuseKJLwith  those 
others  in  the  popular  mind.  The  friends  of  Columbia  College  also  insist 
that  the  efforts  of  that  wealthy  corporation,  in  enlarging  the  number  and  scope 
of  its  courses  and  departments,  have  won  for  it  the  position  of  the  real  uni- 
versity of  the  metropolis. 

All  these  things  prove  the  hopelessness  of  ever  attracting  an  endowment 
adequate  to  the  plans  of  the  founders.  A  conviction  of  this  truth  has  so  dis- 
heartened such  sanguine  souls  as  have  in  recent  years  made  zealous  attempts 
in  that  direction,  that  some  of  them  have  been  driven  to  the  other  extreme 
and  have  urged  that,  in  lack  of  funds  for  its  full  development,  the  vnder- 
graduate  department  ought  to  be  suspended  or  abolished.  The  indignant 
negative  which  checked  a  serious  attempt  of  this  sort  in  1881,  following  the 
lesser  attempts  of  three  and  four  years  earlier,  demonstrated  the  perpetuity 
of  the  University.  Its  entire  suppression  is  just  as  impossible  as  its  magnifi* 
cent  enlargement.  No  man  or  body  of  men  will  ever  give  money  enough  to 
effect  the  latter,  but  hundreds  of  its  graduates  will  always  contribute  a  Suffi- 
ciency of  their  dollars  to  prevent  the  former,  when  the  pinch  really  comes. 
There  is  a  very  creditable  trait  in  the  American  character  which  ensures  an 
enormous  amount  of  latent  vitality  to  even  the  poorest  one  of  our  colleges 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS. 


437 


that  has  managed  in  some  way  to  oatlive  its  infancy.  Almost  every  alum- 
nos  takes  pride  enough  in  his  bachelor's  degree  to  be  willing  to  help  away 
from  the  verge  of  bankruptcy  the  institution  which  conferred  it.  He  may 
not  be  generous  enough  to  help  it  achieve  success,  but  he  will  rally  to  its 
rescue  when  he  sees  it  approaching  actual  dissolution.  Such  a  prospect 
makes  a  very  strong  appeal  to  his  self-love,  for  no  man  likes  to  confess  that 
*'  the  college  where  he  graduated  "  is  really  defunct  The  admission  seems 
a  sort  of  personal  stigma  upon  his  .early  life.  It  may  be  too  poor  an  affair  to 
boast  about,  or  to  send  his  sons  to,  or  to  help  push  into  prosperity ;  but  he  is 
not  quite  willing  to  see  it  die. 

The  New  York  University,  however,  is  very  far  from  being  the  poorest 
one  among  our  four  hundred  American  colleges.  On  the  contrary,  as  soon  as  a 
dozen  or  twenty  of  the  oldest  and  richest  of  them  have  been  passed  by,  it  can 
easily  stand  comparison  to  almost  any  one  of  the  others.  The  contemptuous 
tone  with  which  its  educational  advantages  are  belittled  by  the  novelist  whom 
I  have  quoted,  and  by  others,  is  not  based  upon  justice,— however  much  it 
may  add  to  the  literary  effect  of  their  remarks.  The  half-century  catalogue 
of  instructors  and  alumni  exhibits  as  laige  a  proportion  of  noteworthy  names 
as  any  similar  collection  which  is  known  to  me.  The  professors  who  have 
distingubhed  themselves  in  science  and  literature ;  the  graduates  who  have 
won  fame  and  recognition  as  leaders  in  the  various  walks  of  active  life,  are 
as  numerous  as  those  whom  any  other  college  of  its  size  can  boast  of.  The 
circumstance  which  obscures  this  truth  is  the  overshadowing  immensity 
of  the  city  itself,  which  seems  to  dwarf  whatever  comes  into  comparison 
with  it.  Stat  magni  naminis  wnira.  Situated  elsewhere,  the  University 
might  easily  overshadow  its  surroundings,  and  give  tone  and  distinction  to 
some  quiet  village  which  would  otherwise  remain  obscure.  Many  a  lesser 
school  has  done  this,  and  thereby  ensured  for  itself  the  respect  and  deference 
of  casual  writers,  who  carelessly  sneer  at  the  University  as  if  it  were  of 
smaller  consequence.  It  is  its  fate  to  be  misjudged  and  condemned  in  popular 
repute,  not  for  lack  of  merits  of  its  own,  but  because  it  has  the  misfortune  to 
take  the  name  of  the  great  city  in  vain.  Even  Columbia  College,  ranking 
fourth  in  age  and  almost  first  in  wealth  among  such  foundations  in  America, 
is  hardly  recognized  as  a  factor  in  the  active  life  of  the  metropolis.  This 
was  well  shown  by  the  remark  which  its  most  authoritative  newspaper  made,  a 
few  years  ago,  in  commenting  on  the  great  gains  that  had  resulted  to  Har- 
vard from  the  policy  of  absolute  publicity  with  respect  to  the  college  finances : 
*'  Our  own  Columbia  treats  its  affairs  as  if  they  were  the  affairs  of  a  pri- 
vate business  partnership, — ^that  is,  keeps  the  details  of  its  management 
more  secret  than  the  law  allows  any  banking  corporation  to  keep  theirs.  *  * 
Columbia  is  suffering,  and  must  always  suffer,  from  this  mistaken  policy. 
There  is  about  as  much  known,  and  as  much  interest  felt,  about  her  by  thb 
ordinary  New  Yorker  as  about  Trinity  Church  or  the  Sailors'  Snug  Harbor.'' 
^Tk^  NaH&H^  July  7,  1881,  p.  2. 


438         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  believe  that  the  Medical  School  of  the  University  has  always  been  con- 
ducted at  a  distance  of  a  mile  or  more  from  the  Square ;  and  the  School  of 
Pharmacy  has  also,  in  recent  years,  been  removed  from  the  University  Build- 
ing ;  but  the  Law  School  still  flourishes  there,  as  well  as  the  Department  of 
Science  and  Arts,,  with  its  four  undergraduate  classes  of  Seniors,  Juniors, 
Sophomores  and  Freshmen.  It  happens,  therefore,  that,  for  five  days  of  the 
week,  between  ten  in  the  morning  and  two  in  the  afternoon,  something  like 
two  hundred  people  freqoent  the  corrido;«  in  the  lower  part  of  the  Building, 
and  the  lecture-rooms  which  open  out  from  them.  Several  societies  likewise 
have  their  halls  and  offices  there,  and  the  chapel  in  the  center  is  usually 
rented  to  some  religious  organization  which  holds  service  in  it  on  Sundays, 
and  occasionally  on  the  evenings  of  other  daiys.  The  janitor  and  his  family, 
and  the  servants  in  his  employ,  live  upon  the  ground  floor.  His  office  or 
reception-room  is  not  adjacent,  however,  to  either  one  of  the  five  entrances 
of  the  Building ;  and  as  these  entrances  face  upon  three  different  streets,  and 
are  left  unlocked  from  daybreak  until  ten  o'clock  at  night,  whoever  pleases 
may  visit  the  Building  without  attracting  any  one's  observation,  either  outside 
or  inside.  Tenants  may  of  course  gain  admission  by  their  latch-keys  at  any 
hour  of  the  night,  and  they  also  know  how  to  arouse  the  janitor  by  rapping  on 
a  certain  secluded  window ;  but  that  worthy  is  freed  from  the  attacks  of  the 
general  public,  after  his  hour  of  locking-np,  for  no  bell-pull  or  other  device 
exists  by  which  any  casual  visitor  may  interrupt  the  nightly  quiet  of  the  Uni- 
versity. He  might  kick  and  pound  for  an  hour  upon  its  ponderous  portals 
without  being  heard  inside,  and  without  arousing  anyone's  protest  except, 
perchance,  that  of  a  passing  policeman.  There  is  no  other  house  in  the  world 
where  the  conditions  of  management  combiae  so  completely  to  protect  each 
individual  inhabitant  from  casual  observation  or  deliberate  espionage.  The 
identity  of  the  forty  or  fifty  people  who  live  there  is  mexiged  in  the  mass  of 
two  hundred  or  more  who  daily  visit  there;  and  the  attempt  to  watch  the 
incomings  and  outgoings  of  any  particnlar  one  ol  them  would  be  extremely 
difficult,  even  tf  all  passed  through  a  single  doorway.  But  as  all  may  in  fact 
choose  between  five  doorways,— opening  on  three  separate  streets,  to  the 
north,  west  and  south,— ^no  effective  watch  can  be  kept  except  by  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  spy  system  so  elaborate  as  to  defeat  its  own  object  by  attracting 
notice  to  itself. 

This  peculiarity  of  the  place  was  put  into  prominence  by  the  novelist 
whom  I  have  quoted,  because  the  plausibility  of  his  story  of  **  Cecil  Dreeme  " 
depended  entirely  upon  the  degree  of  his  success  in  convincing  his  readers  of 
the  singular  fact.  He  caused  the  heroine  of  the  tale  to  live  for  a  long  time, 
disguised  as  a  man,  in  a  solitary  chamber  of  the  University,  to  which  she  had 
taken  flight  in  order  to  escape  marriage  with  the  villain  of  the  tale  (who  also 
had  a  room  there^  though  he  resided  elsewhere),  to  whom  she  had  been 
pledged  by  her  wealthy  but  mercenary  father.  This  father  believed  she  had 
committed  suicide,  and  he  buried  with  due  solemnity  the  body  of  another  un* 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS,        439 

fortunate  young  woman,  which  was  found  floating  in  the  river,  and  was  identi- 
fied as  bis  daughter's.  The  daughter,  living  in  disguise  as  ^  Cecil  Dreeme, 
artist,"  never  ventured  into  the  open  air  except  by  night,  and  thus  escaped  recog- 
nition by  her  kindred  and  fashionable  friends  whose  mansions  were  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood.  Now,  there  is  no  other  habitation  in  the  city 
where  such  singular  conduct  could  fail  to  attract  suspicious  observation  to 
the  person  who  practiced  it;  and  such  observation  would  necessarily  mean 
discovery  when  the  person  to  whom  it  attached  was  a  woman  in  disguise. 
But  no  conduct  of  dwellers  in  the  University  is  accounted  singular,  or  sus- 
picious or  noticeable.  No  one  of  them  pretends  to  know  or  care  about  any 
other  one, — ^whether  he  be  in  or  out,  ill  or  well,  rich  or  poor,  alive  or  dead  I 
I  may  have  troops  of  friends  call  upon  me  daily,  or  I  may  seclude  myself  for 
months  without  letting  a  creature  cross  my  threshold,  and  no  outsider  need 
be  aware  of  either  circumstance ;  not  even  the  janitor  need  know  whether  I 
am  enjoying  a  sociable  or  a  solitary  life.  The  novelist  told  the  simple  truth 
in  saying :  **  We  can  live  here  in  completer  privacy  than  anywhere  in  Christendom, 
Daggeroni^  De  Bogus^  or  Madamoiselle  De  MoUets  might  rendegvaus  with  my 
neighbor ^  and  I  never  be  the  wiser ^"^ 


^  The  main  incident  of  the  story  turns  vqpon  the  disguise  of  a  woman  as  a  nan,  and  we  art 
bound  to  say  that  we  remember  no  instance  of  a  like  success,— perfectly  pure,  modest  and 
spirited, — short  of  Viola  and  Rosalind.  <*  *  *  He  has  invested  this  building  with  a  mysterious, 
romantic  interest  far  beyond  anything  hitherto  attained  by  our  local  writers.  We  must  protest 
against  some  of  the  charges  of  shabbiness,  decay  and  flimaness  he  has  brought  against  an  edifice 
of  very  fair  architectural  pretensions.  The  marble  statrcaue  would  be  a  very  respectable  flight  of 
steps  in  any  college  edifice  of  the  old  world,  and  you  can  ascend  without  any  fear  of  flakes  of 
whitewash.  Mr.  Winthrop  should  have  known  that  the  boys  did  not  mob  their  professors  and 
that  such  men  as  *  *  *  are  not  mullein  stalks.  An  occasional  injustice  must,  however,  be 
pardoned  to  the  satirist.  His  hits  are  in  the  main  as  well  deserved  as  they  are  sharp. — Sketch 
of  Winthrop,  in  "  Supplement  to  Duyckinck's  History  of  American  Literature ''  (1866 ;  p.  151). 

"  The  Life  and  Poems  of  Theodore  Winthrop  "  edited  by  his  sister,  with  portrait  (N.  Y. : 
H.  Holt  &  Co.,  18&4,  pp.  313),  is  a  book  which  I  hoped  might  supply  much  quotable  material, 
but  it  really  contains  no  allusion  whatever  to  the  fact  of  his  living  in  the  University,  and  it  ac- 
credits the  writing  of  "  Cecil  Dreeme*'  to  the  year  i860  only  by  implication.  That  sketch  shows 
such  intimate  knowledge  and  sympathetic  appreciation  of  the  Building's  queemess,  however,  as 
to  force  the  conviction  that  the  author  must  have  resided  in  it  during  some  part  of  the  thirteen 
years  which  he  Kved  after  graduating  at  Yale.  If  not,  he  must  have  been  on  intimate  terms 
with  some  ol  the  residents,  and  made  freqnent  visitations  at  their  chambers.  Winthrop  was 
bom  at  New  Haven,  September  23,  1828,  and  was  killed  at  Great  Bethel,  Viiginia,  June  xo, 
i86z,  in  the  earliest  skirmish  of  the  dvil  war.  "  He  fell  nearer  to  the  enemy's  works  than  any 
other  man  went  during  the  fight."  If  fame  is  worth  dying  for  (which  I  doubt),  he  was  singularly 
fortunate  in  his  death.  It  made  him  the  representative  man  of  an  era.  It  gave  a  strange  stir 
and  intensity  to  the  patriotic  passion  for  Union.  It  proclaimed  that  the  very  best  youth  of  the 
North  were  bound  to  do  battle  in  its  defense.  As  his  biographer  truly  says,  "  his  memory  was 
idealized  and  worshiped  by  the  jronng  men  of  that  day."  Even  the  youngest  of  us  gave  htm 
reverent  recognition  as  the  typical  hero  of  a  troublous  time.  Thus,  the  books  which  appeared 
soon  after  bis  death  (for  he  had  won  no  wide  literary  reputation  while  living)  assumed  a  factitious 
importance,  and  were  ensured  a  remarkably  wide  circulation.  I  say  nothing  against  their  fully 
deserving  this  as  pieces  of  literature.    I  merely  record  the  fact  that  their  great  vogue  was  due  to 


440         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Why,  then,  is  this  not  an  ideal  haunt  for  the  assassin,  the  counterfeiter 
and  the  adventuress  ?    What  has  prevented  its  becoming  a  very  Alsatia  of 
disreputable  refugees  and  enemies  of  society?    What  protection  exists  for 
the  tenant's  property  or  life,  if  unobserved  access  may  be  had  by  every  one 
to  these  solitary  corridors  until  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  no  police  super- 
vision whatever  is  maintained  ?    The  answer  to  the  latter  question  easily  is, 
that,  as  robbers  and  murderers  seek  those  places  which  are  most  promising 
of  spoils,  they  avoid  the  University  because  of  a  belief  that  it  contains  noth- 
ing worth  the  trouble  of  stealing.    Its  appearance  is  altogether  too  prison^ 
like  for  attracting  any  escaped  jail-birds  who  may  chance  to  be  fluttering  be- 
neath the  trees  of  the  Square.    To  the  minds  of  the  ignorant,  the  word 
"college"   or    ** university "  is  often  8ynon3nnous  with   or  suggestive  of 
"medical-school ";  and,  as  the  chief  function  of  such  schools  is  believed  to 
be  the  dissection  of  a  vast  quantity  of  human  bodies,  the  walls  which  conceal 
this  uncanny  work  are  looked  upon  with  a  good  deal  of  superstitious  dread 
and  abhorrence.    The  casual  sneak-thief  has  a  healthy  fear  of  prowling  for 
plunder  in  the  dark  and  dingy  halls  of  the  University,  lest  "the  medical 
students,"  who  are  presumably  secreted  there  with  their  carving-knives, 
should  seize  upon  and  devour  him.    The  story  already  quoted  concerning  the 
terror  shown  by  the  negro  boot-black  in  the  artistes  studio,  illustrates  this 
same  tradition,  as  to  the  dangers  of  entering  the  Building,  which  has  wide 
currency  in  all  the  region  round  about  it.    Another  theory  in  reference  to  its 
occupants  was  disclosed  to  me  as  I  sat  in  the  Square,  one  Monday  evening, 
near  the  bench  where  two  washerwomen  were  resting  with  their  bundles. 
The  subject  of  their  conversation  was  the  then  newly-built  apartment-house 
called  "The  Benedick,"  whose  red-brick  front  is  on  a  line  with  the  Uni- 
versity's, and  not  many  rods  to  the  south  of  it,  and  whose  chambers  were  de- 
signed and  advertised  for  the  occupancy  of  men  only.    "  It 's  all  the  same  as 
the  big  stone  buildin'  where  they  keeps  the  old  bachelors,"  said  one  of  the 
women,  gravely.    "  You  see  the  popilation  has  growed  since  the  city  built  it  for 
'em,  long  ago,  and  so  they  got  too  crowded  like.    That 's  why  the  new  brick 
house  was  built  to  put  some  of  'em  in."    This  conception  of  an  infirmary  or 
retreat  for  "  the  old  bachelors,"  as  a  sort  of  class  apart,  under  municipal  pro- 
tection and  authority,  doubtless  has  less  vogue  than  the  notion  of  a  vast  dis- 
secting-room or  chamber-of-horrors ;  but  I  think  it  probable  that  most  of  such 
evil-disposed  frequenters  of  the  locality  as  may  know  that  there  are  other 
lodgers  in  the  University  besides    "the  medical   students,"  believe  those 
others  to  be  bachelors.    They  believe  them  to  be  impecunious  ones  also,  for 
they  cannot  conceive  of  a  man's  living  in  so  funereal  a  pile  except  under 

the  **  blood  and  iron  "  behind  them.  We  felt  that  the  pen  which  traced  them  had  been  dipped 
in  gunpowder ;  that  the  pages  amelled  of  the  cannon  smoke.  We  had  a  fierce  longing  to  share 
somewhat  in  the  personality  of  this  fine  gentleman  and  scholar  who  had  been  fated  first  to  faSL 
We  were  proud  to  read  an  author  of  whom  we  could  rightly  say,  in  sad  and  wrathful  defiance : 

"  A  better  or  a  brwer  man  never  rode  in  battle's  van." 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.       441 

pressure  of  poverty.  Furthermore,  even  if  an  adventurous  thief  managed  to 
break  into  a  half-dozen  apartments  without  detection,  he  might  not  find  any- 
thing better  than  empty  recitation-benches,  or  dusty  laboratory  apparatus,  or 
full-length  ^  portraits  of  the  chancellors,"  or  ponderous  law  tomes, — ^for  most 
of  the  doors  of  the  public  rooms  bear  no  labels,  and  they  look  exactly  like 
those  of  the  adjoining  private  rooms,  which  also,  in  many  cases,  make  no 
showing  of  the  tenants*  names.  But  if  a  thief  had  the  luck  to  avoid  the  col- 
legiate chambers,  and  penetrate  a  private  room  in  the  owner's  absence,  the 
chance  for  plunder  would  still  be  much  poorer  than  in  a  private  house.  It 
may  fairly  be  assumed,  of  men  who  live  alone,  that  the  personal  possessions 
with  which  they  surround  themselves— even  when  they  have  the  ability  to  in- 
dulge in  a  good  degree  of  splendor  and  luxury — ^are  not  of  that  compact  and 
portable  sort  dear  to  the  heart  of  the  housebreaker.  A  bachelor,  if  he  likes  to 
have  good  furniture  about  him,  may  buy  a  costly  sideboard  to  gratify  that  lik- 
ing ;  but  his  ideal  of  lavishness  in  fitting  it  up  will  be  more  apt  to  take  the 
shape  of  potables  than  of  silver-plate.  Hence  the  intelligent  burglar's  chief 
interest  centers  upon  family  life;  for  well  he  knows  that,  where  the  wife 
is,  there  shall  the  solid  silver-ware  be  found  also.  I  am  not  forgetful  of  the 
wide  advertisement  that  the  newspapers  gave  in  1883  to  the  public  auction  of 
pictures  and  bric-a-brac  which  netted  $50,000  to  a  departing  tenant  of  the 
University  (though  some  of  the  choicest  of  the  treasures  accumulated  in  his 
chambers,  rumor  said,  were  reserved  from  the  sale) ;  but  I  do  not  think  the 
prevalent  belief  as  to  the  unwealthy  character  of  the  other  tenants  was 
thereby  diminished  at  all.  If  the  thieves  read  about  the  auction,  they  must 
also  have  read  that  the  owner  of  the  collections  which  brought  such  "  big 
money  "  was  the  chief  editor  of  a  prominent  daily  newspaper,  and  that  he 
kept  a  body-servant  continually  guarding  his  door.  They  must  have  rated 
him  as  an  entire  exception  to  the  ordinary  inhabitants  of  such  a  prison,  whose 
possessions  olEer,  ostensibly  as  well  as  actually,  no  real  temptation  to  a 
robber.  It  would  be  hard  to  name  another  lodging-house  in  the  city  where 
the  very  nature  of  things  makes  the  danger  of  sneak-thievery  so  slight. 

Some  of  the  same  considerations  which  deter  the  lower  order  of  criminals 
from  attempting  to  prey  upon  the  tenants  of  the  Building  deter  also  the 
higher  order  of  criminals  from  becoming  tenants  there,  as  a  means  of  more 
secretly  concocting  their  schemes  for  preying  upon  society  in  general.  Such 
birds-of-a-feather,  however  much  they  may  like  to  hide  themselves  from  the 
observation  of  the  police,  are  very  generally  inclined  to  flock  together ;  and 
they  are  undoubtedly  wise  in  believing  that  such  procedure  offers  them  the 
best  chance  of  individual  concealment.  A  man  of  evil-conscience  looks  upon 
solitude  as  a  supreme  terror;  he  cannot  endure  continued  isolation;  *'  the  pro- 
found gloom  of  the  University  would  turn  his  brain."  It  i^  about  the  last 
place  in  the  world,  therefore,  where  a  bad  woman  would  consent  to  seclude 
herself ;  though  the  entire  truthfulness  (so  far  as  practicability  goes)  of  the 
story  of  ''  Cecil  Dreeme's  "  concealment  there  shows  that  no  other  place  ex- 


442  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ists  in  the  world  where  such  seclusion  could  be  made  so  complete.  This 
peculiar  possibility  often  gives  rise  to  considerable  verbal  banter,  represent- 
ing each  bachelor  tenant  as  the  proprietor  of  a  sort  of  harem ;  and  a  dis- 
reputable daily  newspaper  once  went  so  far  as  to  publish  silly  stories  of  this 
kind,  with  the  serious  '*  business  "  purpose  of  impairing  the  influence  of  a 
rival  sheet  in  local  politics.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  there  is  probably 
no  other  public  house  in  the  city  where  the  conditions  of  existence  offer  so 
few  temptations  to  indulgence  in  that  particular  sort  of  **  immorality."  Such 
women  as  are  encountered  here  exhibit  in  a  pre-eminent  degree  the  supreme 
virtue  of  minding  their  own  business.  They  give  no  occasion  or  pretext  for 
any  gossip  or  tittle-tattle  or  scandal,  like  that  which  is  continually  cropping 
out  in  every  hotel  or  boarding-house.  If,  therefore,  a  bachelor  resident  of 
the  University  is  disposed  *'  to  sport  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade,"  the  chosen 
scene  of  such  indulgence  seems  more  likely  to  be  the  hotel  or  boarding- 
house  than  his  own  mysterious  home.  Since,  not  being  at  hand,  she  must 
definitely  be  sought,  it  is  manifestly  more  easy  as  well  as  more  prudent  thus 
to  meet  her  on  neutral  ground,  or  even  in  her  personal  and  private  haunts, 
than  to  escort  or  summon  her  to  his  own  grim  chambers.  No  difficulty  exists, 
in  any  city  where  a  million  of  the  human  race  are  herded,  to  prevent  a  man 
and  woman  from  living  together,  though  unmarried,  with  entire  privacy  and 
concealment ;  and  no  city  of  that  size  can  maintain  a  hotel— whether  large  or 
small,  magnificent  or  humble,  fashionable  or  exclusive— -in  the  possession  of 
machinery  powerful  enough  to  exclude  such  unwedded  pairs.  "  The  nature 
of  things  "  on  the  other  hand,  seems  sufiident  to  exclude  them  from  the  Uni- 
versity ;  for  I  can  conceive  of  no  place  where  the  mutual  wearisomeness  which 
always  ends  that  sort  of  relationship  would  be  more  quickly  developed. 

Nevertheless,  though  a  most  unsuitable  place  for  the  keeping  of  a  mis- 
tress, the  Castle  might  conceivably  supply  an  acceptable  home  for  the  shelter 
of  a  wife,  provided  her  tastes  were  unconventional  enough  to  be  in  sympathy 
with  such  solitary  surroundings.  Many  a  lonely  dweller  here  has  doubtless 
dreamed  wistfully  of  these  as  a  charming  background  for  some  new  Paul-and- 
Virginia  business,  wherein  he  himself  might  play  a  most  delighted  and  de- 
voted part, — "  the  world  forgetting,  by  the  world  forgot."  Indeed,  the  dream 
may  have  been  realized,  for  aught  that  I  know  to  the  contrary.  I  possess  a 
vague  impression  that  one  or  two  married  pairs  have  at  times  had  a  place 
among  my  contemporaries  in  the  Building ;  but,  if  this  were  so,  they  must 
have  tired  of  it  quickly,  for  I  think  that  all  the  long-term  stayers  are  single 
men.  I  recall,  too,  the  fact  that  an  acquaintance  of  mine,  who  came  back  to 
live  here  in  his  bachelor  chambers,  during  the  summer  months  while  his  wife 
took  an  outing  in  Europe,  spoke  regretfully  of  the  hopeless  gap  between  the 
two  kinds  of  existence.  He  was  happy  in  his  married  life,  and  was  too  gen- 
erous to  wish  to  deprive  his  wife  of  such  happiness  as  she  found  in  "society" ; 
but,  he  thought,  "  if  madame  might  really  be  inspired  to  throw  it  all  over- 
board, in  order  to  share  a  free  life  with  me  in  this  peaceful  solitude,— ah  I 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.       443 

that  vtmdd  be  fine  I "  His  notion  was  that  such  existence  night  contimaonsly 
sapply  the  same  sort  ol  cest  which  a  man  briefly  secures  by  dragging  his  wife 
off  to  some  remote  mountain  or  wilderness  or  mining-camp,  ^  where  there  are 
no  other  women  around,  to  keep  her  Mck  tightly  chained  beneath  the  yoke  of 
conformity."  The  fun  and  freedom  of  the  mining-camp  experience  are  some- 
what impaired,  however,  by  the  wife's  consciousness  of  eccentricity  :  she  at- 
tracts too  much  attention,  and  is  gazed  at  too  curiously,  as  the  only  present 
specimen  of  her  sex.  But  in  the  solitude  of  the  University  she  would  attract 
00  notice  at  all,  for  a  great  many  other  women  are  to  be  seen  there,  silently 
going  their  own  separate  ways.  "  They  never  speak  as  they  pass  by,"  The 
tomb-like  atmosphere  of  the  corridors  does  not  encourage  loitering  or  soda^ 
bility.  People  hasten  through  them  as  speedily  as  possible  and  disappear 
into  their  several  chambers.  No  one  wastes  time  in  kx>king  at  any  one  else, 
or  curiosity  in  speculating  about  any  one  else.  No  decently-dressed  visitor, 
whether  man  or  woman,  who  goes  directly  along,  as  if  on  business  bent,  is 
ever  questioned  by  the  janitor. 

That  worthy,  however,  makes  vigorous  warfare  on  all  evident  intruders ; 
and  it  is  unusual  for  beggars,  tramps,  pedlars  or  other  pests  to  get  beyond 
his  office.  His  wife  and  family  dwell  with  him  upon  the  ground  floor,  as  well 
as  two  or  three  female  servants.  Washerwomen  regularly  call  for  clothes  in 
all  parts  of  the  Building.  In  the  artists'  studios  at  the  top,  women  and  girls 
often  pose  as  models.  A  charitable  sodetv  has  an  office,  presided  over  by  a 
woman,  which  is  frequently  visited  by  the  lady  managers.  Another  apartment 
has  been  honored,  I  believe,  in  times  past,  by  fashionable  maidens  attending 
their  music  lessons.  More  women  than  men  are  attracted  to  the  public  re- 
ligious services  which  are  held  in  the  chapel  on  Sundays,  and  on  the  even- 
ings of  certain  other  days.  A  physician's  office,  long  estaUished  here,  doubt- 
less has  its  due  proportion  of  feminine  patients.  The  storage  of  household 
effects  in  the  basement  is  sometimes  superintended  \f^  the  women  who  own 
them.  The  professors'  wives  and  daughters  presumably  make  the  University 
an  occasional  rendezvous.  Serious  aigument  has  been  offered  in  favor  of 
opening  its  lecture  and  recitation-rooms  to  lady  students,  or  of  having  the  pro- 
fessors instruct  them  in  private  classes ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  "  the  an- 
nual reception  of  the  graduating  class  "  draws  hither  the  sisters  and  cousins 
and  other  girl  friends  thereof,  to  make  the  grim  corridors  gay  for  a  few  hours 
with  music  and  dancing.  Thus,  for  one  reason  or  another,  a  great  variety  of 
womankind  have  proper  business  within  the  walls  of  the  University ;  and  the 
going  or  coming  of  any  individual  woman  is  no  more  noticed  nor  thought  of 
than  the  going  or  coming  of  a  man.  The  peculiarity  of  the  place  is  that  its 
atmosphere  forces  every  one  to  stick  strictly  to  business ;  to  maintain  a  per- 
sonal isolation  and  reserve ;  to  be  solitary,  exclusive,  unobservant  and  self- 
absorbed.  In  the  same  way  that,  as  Winthrop  said,  "  its  publicity  makes 
privacy,"  so  does  its  unique  capacity  for  the  complete  concealment  of  a 
woman  keep  it  singularly  free  from  scandal.    A  bachelor  resident  has  a 


444         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

serene  consciousness  that  the  inquisitive  eyes  which  would  watch  his  move- 
ments in  any  lodging-house  or  hotel,  and  the  idle  tongues  which  would  there 
set  afloat  silly  stories  of  his  "  undue  attentions  "  to  any  women  of  the  place 
towards  whom  he  showed  a  chance  kindness  or  civility,  cannot  exist  in  the 
University.  A  married  resident  knows  likewise  that  here  his  wife  is  pro- 
tected not  only  from  all  such  invidious  gossip,  but  from  all  contact  with  or 
suggestion  of  the  sort  of  social  evil  which  that  gossip  represents. 

I  have  quoted  the  published  testimony  of  many  witnesses  to  show  that 
the  outward  appearance  of  the  Building  is  apt  to  suggest  the  notion  of  a  castle 
to  the  mind  of  a  stranger ;  but  I  do  not  consider  this  circumstance  of  any 
great  importance  except  as  a  coincidence.  **  Walls  do  not  a  prison  make  " ; 
and  it  is  not  because  of  its  stone  turrets  and  battlements  that  I  account  my 
home  a  castle.  Domus  sua  cuique  est  tutissimum  refugium,  **  Every  man's 
house,*'  as  Lord  Chatham  said,  "  is  called  his  castle.  Why  ?  Because  it  is 
surrounded  by  a  moat,  or  defended  by  a  wall  ?  No.  It  may  be  a  straw-built 
hut ;  the  wind  may  whistle  around  it,  the  rain  may  enter  it, — ^but  the  king 
cannot."  Personal  freedom,  in  other  words,  is  what  is  distinctively  predi- 
cated by  the  "  castle  "  simile ;  and  the  place  where  the  largest  amount  of  this 
is  attainable  by  any  one  is  inside  his  own  doorway.  The  largest  amount 
which  he  actually  obtains  there  is  apt  to  be  small,  however ;  for,  though  it  is 
the  general  habit  of  people  to  speak  of  individual  liberty  as  a  thing  supremely 
desirable,  they  are  not  generally  willing  to  pay  the  price  which  it  costs.  They 
may  occasionally  make  sacrifices  for  a  brief  taste  of  it,  but,  as  a  regular  diet, 
there  are  other  things  which  better  suit  their  digestion.  The  ordinary  ambi- 
tion of  people  is  to  complicate  rather  than  to  simplify  the  machinery  of  their 
lives,  and  the  ordinary  result  of  success  is  that  they  become  slaves  to  the 
machine.  They  welcome  to  the  control  of  the  castle  a  tyrant  more  relentless 
than  any  law-defying  king  could  ever  have  been,  and  they  pay  him  most 
liberally  for  robbing  them  of  the  last  shred  and  atom  of  privacy  and  inde- 
pendence. **^  Custom  "  is  the  admired  Juggernaut  under  whose  wheels  they 
long  to  be  rolled  until  they  become  as  flat  and  undistinguishable  as  a  row  of 
postage  stamps.  Instead  of  the  old,  heroic,  *^Ave  I  Casar^  Imperator  /  Mcri- 
turi  te  salutant !  "  these  self-immolating  modems  seem  to  cry : 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Brother  of  the  Sun  1  Hurrah  for  the  Father  of  the  Moon  I 
In  all  the  world  there's  none  like  Quashiboo. 

BnfEalo  of  buffaloes  I    Boll  of  bulls  1    He  uU  on  a  throne  of  his  subjects'  skoOs. 
And  if  he  needs  more  to  play  at  foot-ball,  ours  all  for  him— «]1 !  all  1 
Httggabajee !    Huggabajoo  I    Hail,  Lord  and  Emperor  of  Bugidaoo  1 " 

The  perfection  of  creature-comfort — ^the  highest  imaginable  ideal  of 
purely  physical  well-being  and  material  ease — ^may  be  found  in  the  great 
country  houses  and  the  London  mansions  of  the  wealthy  men  of  England. 
''  No  set  of  tellurians  at  least  can  affect  to  despise  them.  The  descendants 
of  Adam,  the  world  over,  can  show  nothing  better."  As  machines  for  the 
dispensing  of  hospitality,  nothing  so  complete  exists  elsewhere  on  this  planet 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.       445 

The  visitor  is  charmed  and  delighted  with  the  admirably  effective  devices  by 
which  his  personal  ease  and  tranquillity  are  at  all  times  ensured.  Yet  the 
chief  feeling  left  upon  my  mind,  by  a  contemplation  of.  these  wonderfully  fine 
establishments,  has  always  been  one  of  pity  for«the  mental  serfdom  which  the 
elaborateness  of  their  management  necessarily  entails  upon  the  proud  pro- 
prietors. The  "  castle  "  ideal  is  completely  obliterated.  The  ostensible  own- 
ers  have  no  right  of  initiative, — ^no  power  to  gratify  any  personal  freak  or 
whim.  The  real  rulers  are  the  so-called  servants,  who  lord  it  over  the  master 
and  mistress  with  a  rod  of  iron.  The  movements  of  the  latter  must  be  as 
unvarying  as  the  movements  of  automatons,  or  the  smoothness  and  harmony 
of  the  play  will  be  spoiled.  If  the  chief  actors  attempt  to  vary  the  monotony 
by  interpolations  in  the  traditional  text,  the  people  behind  the  scenes  ring 
down  the  curtain,  and  the  show  is  stopped.  The  lives  of  the  wealthy  seem 
generally  like  a  sort  of  clock-work,  run  for  the  benefit  of  a  vast  body  of  vassals 
and  retainers,  whose  comfort  depends  upon  the  regularity  of  that  running. 
No  matter,  therefore,  how  pronounced  an  individuality  a  man  may  have  been 
given  by  nature,  he  is  powerless  to  assert  it  in  the  presence  of  this  pervasive 
and  uncompromising  opposition.  The  mere  dead-weight  of  numbers  is 
against  him.  The  combined  interest  which  all  his  hirelings  have,  in  keeping 
him  moving  inside  the  conventional  groove,  finally  conquers  any  impulse  of 
his  own  to  move  out  of  it.  Their  opposition— though  silent,  and  passive,  and 
respectful  and  decorous — ^is  irresistible  because  of  its  supreme  stolidity. 
Having  no  heat  nor  passion,  it  never  flags  nor  tires ;  and,  after  the  master's 
collisions  with  it  have  been  numerous  enough  to  produce  intellectual  weari- 
ness, he  always  abandons  the  game  as  not  worth  the  candle,  and  submits  to 
the  inevitable  necessity  of  living  in  strict  accordance  with  the  ideal  which 
his  servants  have  marked  out  for  him  as  correct.  The  certainty  of  such 
ultimate  submission  is  shown  by  the  old  story  of  the  coachman  who,  when 
asked  to  bring  his  master  a  pitcher  of  water,  respectfully  urged  that  such 
service  was  the  proper  function  of  the  butler.  '*  Being  a  reasonable  man, 
the  master  admitted  the  conventional  justice  of  this,  and  ordered  ^im  to 
harness  the  horses  and  transport  the  pitcher-bearing  butler  to  the  well  which 
was  a  few  rods  distant."  If  people  laugh  at  the  coachman's  punishment,  it 
is  because  they  lack  the  philosophy  to  see  that  the  master  was  the  worse 
punished.  The  mental  wear  of  thus  asserting  himself  was  far  more  annoy- 
ing to  him  than  the  slight  physical  labor  was  to  his  coachman ;  and  it  is  to 
be  presumed  that  he  either  changed  his  policy  or  ended  his  life  in  an  asylum. 
The  highly-organized  social  system  of  England,  with  its  strictly-defined 
grades  and  "classes,"  produces  various  creditable  results;  but  one  of  its 
most  obtrusively  characteristic  results  is  the  prominent  development  given  to 
that  unlovely  trait  in  human  nature  which  causes  a  man  to  fawn  on  those  of 
his  race  who  are  classed  above  him,  and  to  spurn  those  who  are  classed  be- 
low. This  is  why  the  English  are  so  stilted  and  strait-laced  in  their  manners 
and  personal  behavior.    **  Self-suppression  is  the  lesson  which  the  system 


446         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

constantly  inculcates,  by  precept  and  by  very  strong  example.**    If  a  ) 
pects  to  "  get  on,*'  he  must  adapt  his  notions  and  conduct  as  closely 
sible  to  those  of  ^  the  class  just  above  '* ;  and  he  is  under  the  constant ; 
of  temptation  to  so  conduct  himself  as  to  deceive  others  into  thinking 
htu  **  got  on,*'  in  advance  of  the  fact    No  scheme  could  be  better 
for  producing  artificiality  and  uniformity,  and  for  concealing  every 
"nature.**;  and  if  any  Englishman,  from  the  highest  to  the  low 
fesses  that  he  is  not  in  some  degree  affected  by  this  fundament., 
hitf  environment,  he  declares  that  he  is  more  than  human.     In 
ilized  country  the  struggle  to  ''keep  up  appearances'*  absorb -^ 
the  energy  of  the  human  race ;  but  the  conditions  of  existence  i 
cause  the  struggle  to  rage  there  with  phenomenal  intensity  anci 
ness.    The  inevitable  compulsion  under  which  each  class  imitai 
ters,**  results,  of  course,  in  the  transfer  of  the  same  ideal  from  th 
the  poorest.    As  the  chief  ambition  of  the  wealthy  is  to  own  an  c 
so  vast  that  the  machinery  for  managing  it  obliterates  the  owner*> 
the  chief  vanity  of  the  very  poor  is  to  boast  the  ability  to  hire  s 
poorer,  for  a  "  slavey,'*  and  to  put  their  necks  under  the  yoke  « 
and  inefficiency.    No  Englishman  feels  that  he  is  quite  respect; 
makes  his  life  in  some  way  dependent  upon  a  social  inferior 
nominally  command, — ^unless  he  occasionally  postures,  in  c 
other,  as  "  an  employer.*'*    The  universal  prevalence  of  this  I 
illustrated  by  the  story  (otherwise  pointless)  of  a  certain  *' 
sion  *'  in  which  the  first  speaker  indignantly  asks :    **  Do  you 
any  truth  in  the  rumor  that  Lord  Suchaplace  didn't  really  \\ 
published  book  of  poems  ? "  and  the  second  speaker  says,  v 
prise:    "Write  'em?    Why  should  he?    I  never  heard  th 
stingy  man.    Of  course  he  employed  a  servant  to  make  th'^ 
The  joke  implied  in  this  matter-of-fact  stripping  off  of  the 
sponsibility,  in  a  case  essentially  personal,  is  relished  by  c 


> There  is  no  nation  io  the  world  that  has  so  acute  a  sense  of  the  valu 
of  wealth  for  human  intercourse  as  the  English  nation.    They  nlently 
large  income  is  a  necessary  of  life  ** ;  and  they  dass  each  other  accord  < 
establishments,  looking  up  with  unfeigned  reverence  to  those  who  h.^- 
horses,  and  gigantic  houses  wheire  a  great  hospitality  is  dispensed, 
thinks  he  has  failed  in  life,  and  his  friends  are  of  the  same  opinion,  if ' 
ability  to  imitate  this  style  and  state,  at  least  in  a  nunor  degree.    I  t\v' 
that  an  expenditure  far  beyond  what  can  be  met  by  the  physical  or  iut 
workers  should  be  thought  necessary,  in  order  that  people  may  meet 
big  English  house  is  a  machine,  which  runs  with  unrivaled  smoothnes 
it  possesses  its  nominal  possessor.    Geoif^  Borrow  had  the  deepest 
slavery  to  his  big,  well-ordered  dwelting,  and  saw  in  it  the  cause  of  i 
ending  in  heart<disease,  paralysis,  bankruptcy,  and  in  minor  cases  sa< 
and  quiet  happiness.    Many  a  landowner  has  crippled  himself  by  < 
estate,— one  of  those  huge,  tasteless  buildings  that  express  nu: 
"  Human  Intercourse,"  by  P.  G.  Hamerton,  p.  145  (Boston:  Robe 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


we  plasc"    PnciKlyi  but  they  have  Uvcd  so  coiuUDtly  in  Ibe  ey«  of  other  pe^l«,  hm  gm 

Tluy  Aavr  btrri  tomitu  liabit  of  nAdumg  vthaitvtr  miiivt  ittdividtiaiity  Ihtji  /«vu,  tkat  tk^ 
kam  at  but  rot  rid  ff  H,    Oi  count,  il  wDuld  be  impowble  la  nuke  Ihem  believe  ihU.    They 

Ihe  Etriciurei  of  forcSgnerm  when  Ihey  are  abroad,  for  real  iDdcpendencc  and  a  self-relunt  H^ 
herence  to  nature.  But  there  scema  to  me  to  be  something  coDventioTul  even  about  the  tude 
and  lounging  nuauen  of  which  they  ue  id  pioud.  It  a  like  the  "  itand-al-eue  "  of  loldias. 
imouldbe  highly  imprnpet  and  contraty  to  orderm  to  do  anything  else.  EDgUthmen  appeared 
to  DK  to  be  critiaung  theDudves  away ;  but  the  age  everywhere  partake*  of  the  tendency.  Il 
haa  cnne  to  attach  great  importance  lo  proper  extenuk,  lo  teemlineia,  to  a  Ai^\6*A  usd  banner 
nimiB  behavior.  We  all  devote  an  exceedingly  particular  aod  microacopic  can  to  our  mtwaid 
walk  and  ccnvctsation.  Tbii  ii  true  of  Ameiicini,  and  it  ii  me  of  all  educated  Engliah  jxaptc ; 
hut  the  disea»  reaches  ica  ertreineat  fonii  among  Engliahnien  of  taahion  and  f^uaUty. — "Im- 
preMiona  of  X-oudon  Sodal  Life,"  by  E.  S.  Nadal,  pp.  lo-ii  |New  York  :  Scrihnen,  187;). 

The  final  words  of  the  satne  book  (pp.  217-223)  seem  also  worth  quoting 
here,  as  a  conect  showing  of  the  social  conditions  which  exist  in  the  Ameri- 
can metropolis.  How  such  conditions  are  affected  bj  aristocracy  and  bj 
democracy  seema  to  me  eicellenlly  shown  by  thus  contrasting  the  two  great- 
est cities  of  the  English-speaking  race ; 

There  is  no  tociety  in  New  York  wfiich  correapoDds  to  that  of  Loodon  or  Paris,  and  uiy 
writer  who  altempta  to  make  the  idea  that  there  it  the  ke^^-note  of  lua  wurk  wiD  be  likely  to 
produce  a  ailly,  vulgar  book.  Whether  or  00  there  ahouM  be  and)  aadetiei,  or  whether, 
where  they  exiit,  they  do  good  or  harm,  I  do  not  aay.  T  only  say  that  there  is  no  such  society 
among  us,  and  that  noveliita  ihonld  not  write  as  if  (here  were.    There  are  yet  aome  imreasoiaa- 

yean  of  our  euateoce,  an  approach  10  a  nalii 
a  judge,  a  commodore,  or  a  general,  was  an 

of  the  century,  or  until  the  second  generatio' 
*'  where  the  woodbine  twineth  "  to  u*o  the 
The  extreme  weakneas  of  the  aristocratic  elci 
part — to  he  explained  by  the  want  of  respec 
nothing  for  the  man  who  is  above  bim  ;  ia  ra 
does  not  care.  Nor  does  it  appear  a  thing  ' 
the  humbler  dliien  towarda  the  greater  one. 
supeik*  reetllude,  energy  and  tDlelligeika. 
admire  B  because  B  Lves  in  a  better  hoDse 
is  no  need  to  put  the  can  before  the  home, 
is  obvious  where  they  have  anything  to  ven 
for  respect  among  our  people.  It  is  abaun 
■either  coveted  nor  respected,"  The  csntr 
have  are,  perhaps,  respected  too  mudi.  The 
nise  what  is  excellent,  but  have  not  the  critic 
men.  They  tfaetelon  fail  to  iousl  that  the 
dude  everything ;  but,  in  a  kind  of  daied  re- 
The  naliotui  aristocratic  society  has  dial 
politician.  What  is  called  "  positioD  "  is  in 
sarQy  true.     A  is  known  among  hia  neighbor 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        449 

Kn  in  "  nice  "  (the  Amcikin  for  "  noble  "),  Eilbn- (bwlulcl^  or  nlaliTCly  Id  Ihc  people  aiwDd 
ihem.    A  hupooidoD  thereiore  in  hu  uwn  IDurn;  if  he  morcA  dKwhert  he  does  not  Lneviabfy 

pnfedenl  are  marX   imponanL     In  a  vcTy  great  place,  l>n  the  other  hand,  few  men  are  laige 

been  nboodng  into  1  pcution  6i  euch  nitioaa]  and  OHraopDJitan  importance.  li  jg  now  quite  aa 
democratic  a  placv  aa  the  inevitable  varietira  of  Acddent  aiul  taient  among  men  wiJIpennitillobe. 
The  artifice  of  eicluaireneu,  which  ii  •ure  to  Bucceed  in  a  uiallEr  pUce,  will  not  do  here. 
People  greatly  desire  lo  do  what  they  find  difScult  to  da.  They  da  not  cire  at  all  li>  do  what  they 
know  they  may  do.  Accordingly,  in  a  town  or  city  of  moderate  size,  the  people  who  wish  lobe 
thought  better  than  their  neighbors,  and  who  have  some  little  advantage  to  alan  with,  arewise  to 
keep  to  Ihemtelve*.  They  thtu  prevent  iheir  neighbon  from  finding  out  that  Ihe  excluded  and 
the  exduaivu  are  juat  alike.    They  have  lor  their  ally  that  profound  want  ol  confideweofordi- 

and  wide-reaching  importance  of  New  Vork.     What  wiU  the  mover  of  commerce  or  politics  over 


omeK 

)  the  friend  oi  man, 

for  he  will 

mber  that  d 

lemooacy  doe. 

,f  utili 

ityc 

,ver  dignity  and 

"  digi 

of  fiction  may  regret  the  wai 

Kt  of 

divenily  an 

dpict: 

s,  hut 

I  they  de3ir< 

:  ID  avoid  itdgi 

opponun 

idea  ai  they  have 

,  they  muat 

heed 

it    To  make  mei 

iiatHlwo 

DCil 

tty  ia  detiied  them ;  but  ahi 

vM 

ihave 

re,  .he  field  i.  wi, 

Thr 

:r.areonall«de. 

peophf 

=,nplal 

itdwhomitthoi.] 

d  be  a  plea! 

lurel 

odcKribe. 

The  social  life  of  America  is  Tu!ed  by  the  serratits,  juat  as  relentlessly  as 
that  of  England,  but  the  tyranny  takes  a  somewhat  dJfFerent  shape,  on  ac- 
count of  the  changed  environmenl.  They  rule  here  by  their  insolence  and 
worth lesaness  (the  result  of  a  happy-go-lucky  cotisctousness  of  ability  to  earn 
a  livelihood,  and  "perhaps  better  their  chances,"  whetiever  discharged  by  an 
employer),  and  not,  as  in  England,  by  the  mechanical  perfection  of  their  de- 
portment- An  Englishman's  servants  are  so  proper  and  punctilious  that 
they  constrain  him  to  perform  his  appointed  function  in  the  social  machine 
\t  and  solemnity;  but  an   American's  are  so  pert  and 

I .  !,!_  ,.  . ^  |,j  ),33  drilled  ihem  lo  a 

;do(  their  services — that  they 
iai  machine  whatever.  I  am 
uch  a  thing  in  the  Western 
democracy.  There  is  simply 
s  is  well  shown  by  the  writer 
nbiliiy  of  procuring  a  perma' 
l-trained  menials  who  can  al- 
,ted  system  o£  housekeeping, 
t  of  the  one-man-'s-aa-good-as- 
:  of  asserting  this  one  imme- 
ference  to  the  whole  general 


4SO  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

truth.  I  know  that,  among  the  wealthy,  there  may  be  occasionallf  found  a 
family  whose  womankind  are  gifted  with  such  an  unusual  amount  of  execu- 
tive tact,  combined  with  kindness  of  heart,  that  they  compel  "the  servant 
question  "  to  assume  much  the  same  settled  phase  which  it  has  in  the  home 
of  a  well-tcwlo  Englishman.  I  know  that,  among  the  multitude  oE  lujcurioua- 
ly-appointed  houses  in  this  rich  city,  a  few  may  be  found  whose  smoothness 
of  "  movement  "  seems  pennanently  assured,  in  spite  o£  the  democratic  rest- 
lessness which  pervades  the  very  atmosphere.  Nevertheless,  I  believe  it 
may  be  safely  assumed  that,  wherever  two  American  matrons  meet  together 
under  conditions  fivoiible  to  an  unreserved  conversation,  a  prominent  place 
in  it  will  almost  always  be  given  to  (he  trials  and  tribulations  experienced  at 
the  hands  of  (heir  "help."  Like  "politics"  in  the  case  of  a  pair  of  men 
similarly  situated,  this  is  one  of  the  slock  subjects  to  talk  about, — a  topic 
which  may  be  presumed  to  challenge  the  interest  and  sympathetic  attention 
of  every  housekeeper, — a  "  burning  question  "  which  in  some  degree  embit- 
ters every  such  woman's  life.  If  hotels  and  boarding-houses  here  attract  a 
larger  proportion  of  families  than  in  England,  it  is  not  because  the  privacj 
and  comforts  of  a  home  are  prized  less  here  than  there.  It  is  simply  be- 
cause  our  womankind  break  doirn  under  the  strain  and  serfdom  resulting 
from  the  effort  to  get  any  efficient  service  out  of  the  only  class  available  for 
household  hire:  the  ignorant  and  ill-trained  domestics  of  an  alien  race. 
Whether  the  scale  of  the  mtnagt  implies  the  presence  of  only  one  servant, 
or  of  a  full  doien,  the  result  is  the  same :  the  mistress  of  it  is  subjected  to 
constant  annoyance  and  anxiety,  until  at  last  she  "  gives  it  up,"  and  takes  her 
husband  and  children  to  a  hotel.' 

Hotel-life,  in  its  turn,  produces  a  sort  of  cot»traint  analogous  to  that 
which  crushes  an  English  householder  in  the  presence  of  his  servants,  but 
without  (he  compensation  which  he  enjoys  in  dignity  and  privacy  and  re- 
pose. Whoever  inhabits  a  house  to  which  another  family  besides  his  own 
may  have  access  is  always  exposed  to  the  danger  of  contact  with  people 
whose  presence  is  disagreeable,  whose  acquaintanceship  is  undesirable,  whose 
evit  tongues  produce  gossip  and  backbiting,  and  whose  evil  acts  result  in 

^A  few  daj4  titer  tlus  paragnpfa  w»  put  m  tjre,  I  cameicrou  e  confirmation  of  it  in  a  let- 
ter concerning  "South-Cour  Living  id  Ei^land."  Urns  wiinen  in  Dennuhlrc,  Aupia  8; 
■nd,  u  New  Vorken  will  gcnenllr  rrcngnize  the  oritEr  u  an  entirelr  compeieni  wimeo,  m 


place  In  Englscd  !■  not  to  Ix  hid  tor  Iote  oi 
b<lland."-W.  J,  StilliDUi,  in  the  A'aAm, . 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        451 

public  scandal.  These  and  lis  olb«r  evident  disadvantages  render  liolel-Iife 
necessarily  leslless  and  transitory.  It  is  a  make-shiftj  a  temparary  device 
for  "  getting  along  "  until  the  arrival  of  some  happier  day  when  a  better  and 
more  permanent  mode  of  living  can  be  sought  elaewhere.  A  methodically. 
minded  person,  whose  sense  of  locality  is  so  strongly  developed  that  he  takes 
pleasure  in  thinking  of  bis  home  as  a  &iturc  and  finality,  and  hates  to  con- 
sider the  possibility  of  "  changing  his  spots  like  the  leopard,"  sees  in  advance 
that  every  hotel  continually  threatens  to  utter  the  command,  "Move  on  I" 
This  edict  may  come  not  only  in  the  form  of  an  outbreak  of  any  one  of  tbe 
evils  specified  as  latent  in  the  situation,  but  in  the  form  of  increased  rent,  or 
of  a  transfer  of  the  building  to  other  owners  or  uses.  These  transfers  in 
New  York  are  so  continuous, — the  ebb  and  flow  of  particular  classes  of  the 
population  is  so  erratic, — that  even  if  a  man  purchase  a  mansion,  instead  of 
merely  hiring  apartments,  "in  a  genteel  neighborhood,"  tbe  fact  of  pro- 
prietorship gives  no  pledge  of  an  extended  stay  there.  A  band  of  railway 
robbers  may  suddenly  despoil  him  of  his  repose,  or  other  invincible  invaders 
may  obliterate  eveiy  trace  of  "  gentility  "  from  his  surroundings. 

An  additional  social  danger   (which  threatens  the  pride   of  permanent 
tenancy,  if  not  the  tact  itself)  results  from  the  great  length  of  the  residence 
streets,  which  stretch  across  the  island  in  unbroken  east-and-west  parallels, 
from  river  to  river, — a  distance  of  two  full  miles.    I  have  already  explained, 
in  describing  tbe  topography  of  the  city  (p.  65),  that  there  are  more  than  fifty 
such  streets  [numbered  successively  northward  from  7th  st.  to   59th  st.)  be- 
tween Washington  Square  and  Central  Park,  a  distance  of  two  and  a  half 
miles,  but  that  distinctive  residential  "character"  attaches  chiefly  to  the 
longitudinal  thoroughfares  of  the  island,  which  are  called  "avenues,"  and 
which  are   also  parallel   (in  a  nortb-and-south  direction,    at  distances  vary- 
ing from  a  fifth  to  a  tenth  of  a  mile),  and  which  therefore   intersect  the 
"  streets  "  at  right  angles.     Fifth  Avenue,  the  center  or  backbone  of  the  sys- 
tem, has  none  but  wealthy  people  for  residents,  while  the  houses  of  Twelfth 
Avenue,  its  westernmost  parallel,  and  of  Avenue  D,  its  easternmost,  on  the 
opposite  water-ftonis,  shelter  none  but  very  poor  people.    Each  of  the  fifteen 
as  a  more-or-less  generally 
are,  of  course,  great  con- 
,  that  lie  four  or  five  miles 
itreets  of  the  metropolitan 
.  of  OUT  well-to-do  people ; 
hem  at  right  angles  by  tbe 
igle  "  street  "  can  hope  to 
les, — such  as  is  accredited 
listance,  from  Washington 
leril  alluded  to  in  tbe  open- 
eople  quite  the  reverse  of 
nises  at  the  river  ends  of 


452  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

each  of  these  streets,  will  so  conduct  themselves  as  to  give  its  distinctive 
numeral  "  a  bad  name."  New  Yorkers  themselves  may  know,  in  such  a  case, 
that  the  central  section  of  the  street  (to  which  the  bisecting  line  of  Fifth  Ave- 
nue gives  character  and  dignity)  has  a  longer  row  of  handsome  houses,  than 
are  usually  comprised  in  the  whole  of  a  fashionable  street  in  London ;  and 
that  none  but  the  most  eminently  respectable  of  residents  are  to  be  accred- 
ited to  those  houses.  New  Yorkers  may  know  that  proximity  of  a  doorway 
to  Fifth  Avenue  is  denoted  by  the  lowness  of  its  number  (i,  2,  3  and  the  like), 
and  proximity  to  the  water-side  by  a  high  number,  like  600  or  700.  But  out- 
siders do  not  know  these  things,  nor  make  any  discrimination  when  they  read 
the  newspapers*  appetizing  stories  of  metropolitan  vice  and  crime.  A  given 
street  sometimes  gets  a  sudden  shove  into  national  notoriety  in  this  manner ; 
and  though  fashionable  folks  may  not  feel  forced  to  change  their  abodes  on 
account  of  the  evil  deeds  done  in  another  neighborhood,  many  blocks  away, 
the  fact  that  such  things  are  proclaimed  as  happening  in  "  our  street  "  must 
prove  a  bar  to  the  development  of  much  affection  or  enthusiasm  for  the  par- 
ticular numeral  which  represents  it.  '*  Thirtieth  Street,"  for  example,  is 
rather  endeared  to  me  personally  because  of  a  certain  fine  house  there 
whose  elegant  hospitality  has  for  twenty  years  been  extended  to  me  with  un- 
varying kindness.  The  owner  had  built  and  occupied  it,  ten  years  or  more 
before  I  knew  him,  at  a  time  when  the  site  seemed  very  far  "  up  town."  At 
first,  indeed,  I  believe  the  house  stood  almost  isolated  between  the  Avenue 
and  Broadway,  though  its  individuality  was  soon  swallowed  up  in  the  undis- 
tinguishable  mass  of  **  solid  front "  which  has  long  connected  the  two.  No 
doubt,  the  other  houses  in  this  front  may  be  filled  with  treasures  just  as  fine, 
and  possibly  some  of  tmr  owners  may  have  lived  there  nearly  as  long,  in  spite 
of  the  temptation  to  follow  the  wave  of  fashion  that  through  all  these  years 
has  been  ever  receding  northward.  But  though  "  Thirtieth  Street "  thus 
privately  appeals  to  me  as  a  shining  example  of  the  truth  that  the  possession 
of  wealth  does  not  inevitably  debar  a  New  Yorker  from  having  a  permanent 
home  of  his  own,  "  Thirtieth  Street,"  as  projected  on  the  mind  of  a  casual 
reader  of  the  newspapers,  carries  a  definite  suggestion  of  crime  and  ill-repute. 
In  the  western  section  of  that  street  stands  the  "  police  station-house  of  the 
29th  precinct,"  and  the  captain  in  command  thereof  is  more  talked  about,  for 
whatever  reason,  than  any  similar  officer  of  the  entire  force.  This  excep- 
tional notoriety  he  is  said  to  attribute  to  the  exceptional  difficulties  inherent 
in  his  position, — as  a  result  of  the  fact  that  within  the  limits  of  the  region  un- 
der his  sway  are  included  a  majority  of  the  great  hotels  and  theaters,  and  (as 
their  inevitable  accompaniment)  a  large  number  of  those  resorts  where  the 
people  who  have  been  attracted  to  the  hotels  and  theaters,  from  all  parts  of 
America,  like  to  go  "in  search  of  whom  they  may  be  devoured  by."  TlinB 
it  happens  that,  as  a  vast  floating  population,  of  the 
of  "  the  profitable  vices  "  best  like  to  prey  up' 
tention,  either  for  control  or  defense,  within 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOUS.       453 

the  name  of  the  street  containing  its  station-house  suffers  somewhat  by  fall- 
ing under  the  shadow  of  their  wickedness.  But  the  name  of  the  great  cen- 
tral artery  of  the  street  system  stands  superior  to  all  its'  offshoots,  and  the 
fact  that  it  alone  is  held  so  high  above  reproach  tempts  me  to  quote  the  fol- 
lowing description,  recently  written  by  Joseph  H.  Howard,  jr.: 

Whenever  a  house  is  for  sale  or  rent  in  Filth  Avenue  its  residents  feel  a  profound  interest 
m  the  character  of  the  inmates  that  are  to  be.  They  dread  lest  the  mansion  may  be  converted 
to  unworthy  uses;  lest  they  may  be  hourly  shocked  by  a  plebeian  neighbor  who  is  what  they 
themselves  were  twenty  years,  or  five  years,  or  perhaps  a  few  months  before.  Thdr  vigilance 
is  sleepless  in  this  regard ;  still  they  have  often  been  compelled  to  buy  out  common  tradesmen 
and  ambttious  courtesans,  and  enterprising  blacklegs,  who  had  purchased  an  abiding  place  in 
the  socially  sacred  vicinage.  It  is  the  habit  of  New  Yorkers  to  style  Fifth  Avenue  the  first 
street  in  America.  So  far  as  wealth  and  extent  and  uniformity  of  buildings  go,  it  probably  is. 
Beginning  at  Washington  Square,  it  extends  above  Harlem ;  and  as  far  as  Fifty-ninth  Street,  it 
is  almost  an  unbroken  line  of  brownstone  palaces,  while  from  that  point  up  its  magnificence  is 
marvelous.  The  architecture  is  not  only  impressive,  it  »  oppressive.  Its  great  defect  is  in  its 
monotony,  which  soon  grows  tiresome.  A  variation,  a  contrast — something  much  less  ornate  or 
elaborate — would  be  a  relief.  Its  lack  of  enclosures,  of  ground,  of  grass-plats,  of  gardens,  is  a 
visual  vice.  Block  after  block,  mile  upon  mile,  of  the  same  lofty  brownstone,  high  stoop, 
broad-staired  fronts  wearies  the  eye.  It  is  like  the  perpetual  red  brick,  with  white  steps  and 
white  door  and  window  f adngs  for  which  Philadelphia  has  become  proverbial.  One  longs  in  the 
avenue  for  more  marble,  more  brick,  more  iron,  more  wood  even — some  change  in  the  style  and 
aspects  of  the  somber-seeming  houses,  whose  occupants,  one  fancies  from  the  exterior,  look, 
think,  dress  and  act  alike.  One  might  go,  it  appears,  into  any  drawing-room  between  Central 
Paric  and  the  old  Washington  Parade  Ground,  and  he  would  be  greeted  with  the  same  forms, 
see  the  same  gestures,  hear  the  same  speeches.  The  stately  mansions  give  the  impression  that 
they  have  aU  dreamed  the  same  dream  of  beauty  the  same  night,  and  in  the  morning  have  found 
it  realized  ;  so  they  frown  *litemly  upon  one  another,  for  each  has  what  the  other  wished,  and 
should  have  had  alone.  The  slavish  spirit  of  imitation  with  poverty  of  invention  has  spoiled 
the  broad  thoroughfare,  where  we  should  have  had  the  Moorish  and  Gothic,  Ionic  and  Doric 
order,  Egyptian  weight  and  Italian  lightness,  Tudor  strength  and  Elizabeth  picturesqueness. 
It  is  a  grievous  pity  that  where  there  is  so  much  money  there  is  so  little  taste.  The  simi  of 
Fifth  Avenue  wealth  is  unquestionably  far  beyond  that  of  any  street  in  the  country.  The 
dwellings  cost  more ;  the  furniture  and  works  of  art  are  more  expensive ;  the  ina>mes  of  the  in- 
mates are  larger  and  more  prodigally  spent  than  they  are  anywhere  else  on  the  continent.  The 
interior  of  the  houses  is  often  goigeous.  Nothing  within  money's  purchase,  but  much  that  per- 
fect taste  would  have  suggested,  seems  omitted.  There  are  few  of  the  mansions  that  do  not  re- 
veal something  like  tawdriness  in  the  excess  of  display.  The  outward  eye  is  too  much  ad- 
dressed. The  profusion  is  a  trifle  barbaric.  The  subtle  suggestions  of  complete  elegance  are 
not  there.  Still,  to  those  who  have  suffered  from  the  absence  of  material  comfort,  or  to  those 
whose  temperaments  are  voluptuous  and  indolent,  as  most  poetic  ones  are,  a  feeling  akin  to 
happiness  must  be  bom  of  the  splendid  surroundings  that  belong  to  the  homes  of  the  Fifth 
Avenue  rich.  What  soft  velvet  carpets  are  theirs ;  what  handsome  pictures ;  what  rich  cur- 
tains ;  what  charming  frescoes ;  what  marbles  of  grace.  The  people  who  live  side  by  side  in  the 
pretentioas  avenue  know  each  other  not.  Knickerbocker  and  parvenu,  the  inheritor  of  wealth 
and  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune,  the  genuine  gentleman  and  the  vulgar  snob,  reside  in  the 
same  block.  One  house  is  visited  by  the  best  and  most  dbtinguished ;  the  bouse  adjoining  by 
men  who  talk  loud  in  suicidal  syntax,  and  women  who  wear  hollyhocks  in  their  hair,  and 
yellow  dresses  with  pink  trimmings.  Here  dwells  an  author  whose  works  give  him  a  large 
income ;  over  the  way,  a  fellow  who  has  a  genius  for  money-getting,  but  who  cannot  solve  the 
mysteries  of  spelling.    Some  of  the  most  spacious  and  expensive  mansions  on  the  avenue 


452  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

each  of  these  streets,  will  so  conduct  themselves  as  to  give  its  distinc! 
numeral  "  a  bad  name."    New  Yorkers  themselves  may  know,  in  such  a  c 
that  the  central  section  of  the  street  (to  which  the  bisecting  line  of  Fifth  A 
nue  gives  character  and  dignity)  has  a  longer  row  of  handsome  houses,  t 
are  usually  comprised  in  the  whole  of  a  fashionable  street  in  London ; 
that  none  but  the  most  eminently  respectable  of  residents  are  to  be  ac- 
ited  to  those  houses.     New  Yorkers  may  know  that  proximity  of  a  do- 
to  Fifth  Avenue  is  denoted  by  the  lowness  of  its  number  (i,  2,  3  and  the 
and  proximity  to  the  water-side  by  a  high  number,  like  600  or  700.    Bi 
siders  do  not  know  these  things,  nor  make  any  discrimination  when  the 
the  newspapers'  appetizing  stories  of  metropolitan  vice  and  crime.     A 
street  sometimes  gets  a  sudden  shove  into  national  notoriety  in  this  m 
and  though  fashionable  folks  may  not  feel  forced  to  change  their  abc 
account  of  the  evil  deeds  done  in  another  neighborhood,  many  blocl: 
the  fact  that  such  things  are  proclaimed  as  happening  in  "  our  strec 
prove  a  bar  to  the  development  of  much  affection  or  enthusiasm  for 
ticular  numeral  which  represents  it.     "  Thirtieth  Street,"  for  ex« 
rather  endeared  to  me  personally  because  of  a  certain  fine  hoi 
whose  elegant  hospitality  has  for  twenty  years  been  extended  to  mf 
varying  kindness.    The  owner  had  built  and  occupied  it,  ten  year 
before  I  knew  him,  at  a  time  when  the  site  seemed  very  far  "  up  i 
first,  indeed,  I  believe  the  house  stood  almost  isolated  between  t' 
and  Broadway,  though  its  individuality  was  soon  swallowed  up  ii 
tinguishable  mass  of  "  solid  front "  which  has  long  connected  th- 
doubt,  the  other  houses  in  this  front  may  be  filled  with  treasures 
and  possibly  some  of  tlWr  owners  may  have  lived  there  nearly  as  ' 
of  the  temptation  to  follow  the  wave  of  fashion  that  through  all 
has   been  ever  receding  northward.    But  though  "  Thirtieth 
privately  appeals  to  me  as  a  shining  example  of  the  truth  that  tl 
of  wealth  does  not  inevitably  debar  a  New  Yorker  from  having* 
home  of  his  own,  "Thirtieth  Street,"  as  projected  on  the  mi* 
reader  of  the  newspapers,  carries  a  definite  suggestion  of  crime 
In  the  western  section  of  that  street  stands  the  "  police  static 
29th  precinct,"  and  the  captain  in  command  thereof  is  more  t: 
whatever  reason,  than  any  similar  officer  of  the  entire  force 
tional  notoriety  he  is  said  to  attribute  to  the  exceptional  diffi 
in  his  position, — as  a  result  of  the  fact  that  within  the  limits 
der  his  sway  are  included  a  majority  of  the  great  hotels  and 
their  inevitable  accompaniment)  u  large  number  of  those  ti 
people  who  have  been  attracted  to  the  hotels  and  theaters,  i 
America,  like  to  go  "in  search  of  whom  they  may  be  devr 
it  happens  that,  as  a  vast  floating  population,  of  the  sort  w> 
of  "  the  profitable  vices  "  best  like  to  prey  upon,  a)wa3rs 
tention,  either  for  control  or  defense,  within  the  boundar- 


4s6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  make  the  sacrifice  implied  in  securing  complete  independence  from  the 
employment  of  household  servitors.    They  are  satisfied  if  they  can  hold  the 
latter  at  arm's  length,  in  an  impersonal  relationship,  such  as  results  from  the 
constant  changes  implied  in  traveling.    The  resources  of  modam  science  ai 
low  a  resident  of  the  University  to  do  this  with  a  near  approach  to  complete 
ness.    If  he  is  willing,  at  the  outset,  to  expend  as  much  upon  the  fittings  ani 
permanent  machinery  of  his  apartments  as  would  suffice  to  purchase  a  gooa- 
sized  house  in  the  country,  he  may  enjoy  a  fair  degree  of  comfort  or  evei 
luxury,  without  the  loss  of  liberty  which  such  enjoyment  usually  implies,    i 
he  is  willing  to  put  in  water-works,  telephones,  electric-lights,  fireplace^ 
chimneys,  elevators,  floorings,  doors,  windows  and  walls  (all  these,  withoi 
any  written  lease,  and  without  any  assurance,  save  the  mere  vis  inertuB  of  tl. 
place,  that  his  "  improvements  *'  will  not  be  made  a  pretextfor  an  increase . 
his  rent,  or  the  transfer  of  his  chambers  to  some  one  else),  he  may  fairly  su, 
ply  the  more  obtrusive  physical  deficiencies  of  a  house  that  has  been  staii 
ing   for    a    half-century,  that    was    built  chiefly  with  a  view  to  securi 
impressiveness  of  outward  aspect,  and  that  was  not  designed  to  be  lived  in 
all.    A  man  may  readily  arrange  that  a  washer-woman  shall  bring  and  ta 
his  clothes  without  entering  his  door,  or  even  setting  eyes  on  him  personal 
He  may  adopt  a  similar  scheme  in  reference  to  the  waiters  whom  he  summ( 
by  telephone  from  a  restaurant  to  bring  him  food  or  drink.    He  may  likew 
keep  a  valet  '*  on  call,"  who  never  sees  his  face,  or  oppresses  him  with  att 
tions  that  are  not  desired.    The  police,  the  fire  alarm  and  the  messenger  st 
ice  may  be  brought  to  his  immediate  command  by  the  touching  of  a  kr. 
In  other  words,  if  a  man  of  wealth  thinks  it  worth  while,  it  is  entirely  pra 
cable  for  him  to  arrange  here  a  scheme  by  which  he  may  employ  a  great  m 
people  to  help  him  carry  on  quite  an  elegant  and  elaborate  system  of  liv 
but  in  a  quite  impersonal  way, — I  mean  without  the  friction  and  annoyr^ 
of  direct  contact  and  acquaintanceship.     Perhaps  no  such  man  ever  doe 
fact  lead  such  a  life  here.    All  I  insist  upon  is  that  the  conditions  exist  1 
for  leading  it,  as  they  exist  nowhere  else,  and  that  the  fact  of  leadii 
would  excite  no  observation  or  comment. 

Pungent  fumes  from  the  chemical  experiments  in  the  laboratories 
sometimes  ascend  the  stairways,  but  nothing  so  suggestive  of  ordinary  hu 
life  as  the  odor  of  food  will  often  be  encountered  there  or  in  the  Conner 
corridors.    No  cooking  goes  on  in  the  Building,  except  that  of  the  jani' 
small  minage^  in  the  subterranean  regions ;  and  it  is  only  on  great  occa> 
that  this  is  rank  enough  to  smell  to  heaven.     Hotels,  restaurants,  and  b' 
ing-houses,  of  all  styles  an4  prices,  may  be  found  within  a  half-mile  ra 
and  in  these  the  tenants  of  the  Castle  may  be  presumed  to  take  most  of ' 
solitary  repasts.    Breakfasts  are  regularly  brought  in  to  the  chambers  of  - 
of  them,  however ;  and  such  as  possess  telephone  connection  no  doubt  n 
to  summon  in  the  more  extensive  meals  of  the  day,  whenever  bad  weath- 
indolence  disposes  them  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  going  out.    The  janitf 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOUS.        45; 

addition  to  his  regular  salary  for  general  services,  is  paid  a  certain  small  per- 
centage on  the  rents,  as  a  device  for  stimulating  his  activity  and  promptness 
in  making  the  quarterly  collections  thereof ;  but  the  power  of  this  stimulus 
is  more  than  offset  by  a  stimulus  of  the  opposite  sort, — ^an  incentive  to  dila- 
toriness, — ^which  attaches  to  the  fact  that  the  janitor's  income  is  much  more 
largely  affected  by  his  success  in  persuading  tenants  to  employ  his  servants. 
He  generally  succeeds  in  impressing  each  new<omer  that  it*  is  an  unwritten 
law  of  the  place  that  they  should  be  thus  employed ;  and,  as  it  is  easier  for 
the  new-comer  to  submit  to  the  existing  scheme  than  to  devise  a  substitute 
for  it,  I  suppose  that  most  of  the  lodgers'  rooms  are  cared  for  in  this  way: 
that  is,  the  janitor  is  paid  a  fixed  monthly  stipend  for  the  services  of  his 
servants,  and  is  held  responsible  for  their  efficiency  and  honesty.  At  a  cer- 
tain hour  of  the  day  they  have  access  to  the  tenant's  rooms  and  "  put  things 
in  order  "  there ;  but  he  exercises  no  personal  authority  over  them,  and,  if 
their  routine  work  is  not  satisfactory,  his  complaint  is  not  made  to  them  per- 
sonally but  to  their  employer.  The  wages  which  the  janitor  agrees  to  pay  his 
servants  being  necessarily  a  fixed  quantity,  whether  they  have  many  or  few 
rooms  to  care  for,  it  is  evidently  for  his  interest  that  the  number  should  be 
many  rather  than  few.  Thus  it  comes  about  that  the  janitor's  percentage  on 
the  promptly-paid  rent  of  a  tenant  who  renders  no  tribute  to  him  for  servants, 
is  of  much  less  account  than  his  profits  in  leasing  these  servants  to  a  tenant 
who  promptly  pays  the  monthly  stipend  agreed  upon,  but  who  indefinitely 
postpones  the  payment  of  the  rent  due  to  the  trustees  of  the  University. 

I  entertain  a  dreadful  suspicion  that,  when  the  natural  effects  of  this 
enlightened  system  are  unpleasantly  obtruded  upon  the  minds  of  the  latter, 
they  are  apt  to  decide  that  the  exaction  of  increased  rents,  against  those  per- 
manent tenants  who  can  be  depended  on  to  pay,  is  an  easier  device  for 
"bringing  up  the  average  receipts  "  than  the  pursuit  of  hopelessly  delinquent 
"  transients."  Perhaps  I  am  wrong  in  this  suspicion,  as  well  as  in  the  one  on 
which  it  is  based  (that  the  janitor's  zeal  in  enforcing  the  law  against  such  de- 
linquents is  apt  to  be  somewhat  modified  by  the  natural  human  desire  "  not 
to  take  the  bread  out  of  his  own  mouth  " ) ;  but,  in  any  case,  I  must  accredit 
the  janitor  with  a  great  gift,  akin  to  genius,  for  persuading  people  of  the  ap- 
palling dangers  which  overhang  the  existence  of  a  tenant  who  declines  to 
employ  the  regular  servants  of  the  University.  Even  the  traditional  Phila- 
delphia lawyer  never  rendered  himself  a  more  perfect  master  of  the  trick, 
which  Demosthenes  used  to  tell  us  about,  as  the  characteristic  one  of  the 
legal  fraternity  in  his  time,  of  "  making  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason." 
If  a  prospective  tenant  finally  forces  out  the  unwelcome  truth  that  private 
servants  are  not  positively  prohibited  from  entering  these  walls,  the  admission 
is  coupled  with  such  significant  shruggings  of  shoulders,  such  dark  hints  of 
past  misdeeds,  and  such  dreadful  suggestions  of  future  peril,  as  to  make  a 
man  feel  that  the  employment  of  them  here  would  be  a  sort  of  impious  defi- 
ance of  Providence, — a  fool-hardy  exposure  of  his  life,  his  fortune  and  his 


458  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

sacred  honor.  He  is  somehow  given  to  understand,  without  any  exact  verbal 
formulation  or  assertion  of  the  idea,  that  the  pervasive  gloom  of  the  Univer- 
sity has  a  subtle  power  to  develop  a  morbidly  thievish — ^not  to  say  murderous 
— ^tendency  in  the  minds  of  such  servitors  as  he  might  elsewhere  rely  upon  as 
trustworthy  and  kind ;  and  that  no  comfort  or  safety  can,  therefore,  be  ex- 
pected, unless  he  entrusts  his  chambers  to  the  care  of  those  competent  do- 
mestics who  are  under  the  responsible  rule  of  the  janitor,  and  who  have  been 
trained  by  this,  and  by  habit  and  custom  and  experience,  to  resist  the  evils 
which  are  inherent  in  so  peculiar  an  atmosphere.  There  is  enough  truth  on 
the  surface  of  this  theory  to  make  it  plain  that  a  majority  of  the  tenants  act 
wisely  in  refraining  from  the  introduction  of  a  troop  of  special  servants  into 
the  Castle,  to  prey  upon  themselves  and  their  neighbors.  I  should  regret  the 
general  adoption  of  any  such  system  and  should  deprecate  its  dangers.  The 
present  plan  ensures  as  good  service  as  the  average  man  is  willing  to  pay  for ; 
and  I  would  not  recommend  any  new-comer  to  depart  therefrom.  It  will 
certainly  be  wise  for  him,  at  the  outset,  to  **  make  himself  solid  with  the  jan- 
itor," even  though  he  may  not  share  that  worthy's  conviction  that  the  rob- 
beries, suicides  and  sudden  deaths,  sometimes  noted  in  the  newspapers  as 
happening  at  the  Building,  are,  in  some  occult  way,  ultimately  due  to  the 
non-exclusion  from  its  walls  of  all  valets,  body-servants  and  "  private  sweeps  " 
except  those  controlled  by  himself. 

"  The  mighty  concierge  "  is  classed  hostis  humani  generis^  by  the  writers  of 
all  highly-civilized  countries,  just  as  universally  as  the  subscription-book 
agent,  or  the  patent-medicine  pedlar ;  and  the  extract  given  below  from  the 
testimony  of  a  recent  witness  (who  prints  more  than  a  solid  column  to  show 
*'  why  the  Parisian  press  sneer  and  mock  at  the  candidacy  of  M.  Aube,  be- 
cause he  is  a  concierge  " )  would  be  fairly  applicable  to  the  janitors  of  the 
fashionable  apartment-houses  in  New  York.^     It  would  be  quite  unjust,  how- 

*  Do  not  mistake  this  for  a  pleasantry.  The  oonderge  rules  as  autocratically  over  his  kii^c- 
dom  as  ever  did  any  Russian  Czar  over  his  empire  before  the  emancipation  of  the  serfs  and  the 
invention  of  Nihilism.  A  great  change  has  been  made  from  the  olden  time  when  Cerbenis  in- 
habited a  hole  in  the  wall,  as  it  were ;  mended  old  boots  and  pieced  ancient  garments,  while  his 
spouse  did  odd  jobs  for  tenants,  and  his  olive-branches  went  of  errands.  While  all  the  rest  of 
Paris  tends  toward  democratization,  the  concierge  goes  in  for  "  aristocratization."  Like  all  func- 
tionaries, he  has  a  supreme  contempt  for  the  public  He  considers  the  tenants  of  the  dwelling 
which  he  "  manages  "  as  his  subordinates,  and  you  need  no  more  expect  civility  from  him  than  yoa 
can  from  a  hotel  clerk,  or  the  conductor  of  an  omnibus,  or  a  railway  official,  or  anemploy^  at  the 
Paris  Post  Office.  Nothing  can  convince  him  that  he  is  not  the  absolute  master  of  every 
lodger.  I  represent,  he  says,  the  landlord,  and  as  such  have  full  authority  to  let  the  premises, 
to  raise  the  rent,  and  to  give  warning.  It  is  he  who  elaborates  the  "  rules  of  the  house,"  and  it 
is  he  who  has  invented  the  interdiction  of  dogs,  children,  and  canary  birds,  an  interdiction 
which  is  only  revocable  at  his  good  pleasure.  And  try  to  be  on  good  terms  with  him,  for  he  has 
at  his  disposal  ways  and  means  by  which,  if  your  enttnie  be  not  cordialt,  your  life  will  become 
a  burden.  He  will  keep  the  door  unopened  for  you  on  a  rainy  day,  he  will  invariably  tell  your 
friends  that  you  are  not  at  home,  he  will  shake  his  carpet  over  your  head  as  yon  descend  the 
staircase,  and  inflict  upon  you  a  thousand  petty  annoyances  against  which  you  have  no  redress. 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        459 

e^er,  to  confound  with  them  the  janitor  of  the  University  Building;  and  my 
quotation  concerning  the  insolence  and  t3rranny  which  must  be  submitted  to 
at  the  hands  of  the  others  is  chiefly  designed  to  point  by  contrast  his  own 
relative  politeness — ^and  powerlessness.  Though  I  have  hinted  on  a  previous 
page  that  he  may  not  always  rise  entirely  superior  to  the  distinguishing  trait 
of  his  class,  I  am  bound  to  add  that  he  seems  to  be  about  as  unique  a  phe- 
nomenon among  janitors  as  the  Building  is  among  buildings.  At  all  events, 
he  is  the  only  one  I  ever  heard  of,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  in  whom  the 
usual  strictly  sordid  and  mercenary  motives  are  sometimes  supplanted  by 
sentimental  considerations  as  a  basis  for  conduct.  The  janitor  takes  a  per- 
sonal pride  in  the  place,  not  merely  because  he  has  for  fifteen  years  person- 
ally helped  maintain  it  **  in  the  front  rank  of  American  universities  "  (with 
his  name  in  the  annual  catalogue),  but  because  he  is  vaguely  conscious  that 
its  queerness  as  a  lodging-house  reflects  a  sort  of  personal  distinction  upon 
himself.  He  feels  that  no  other  janitor  lives  in  so  scholarly  and  mysterious 
and  historic  an  atmosphere,  or  comes  in  such  close  contact  with  so  many  cu- 
rious and  remarkable  characters.  According  to  the  familiar  principle,  9mne 
ignotum  pro  magmjico,  he  learns  to  reverence  those  who  will  not  submit  to 
him.  He  points  with  a  kind  of  hushed  and  awestruck  pride  at  those  tenants 
who  have  asserted  complete  independence  of  his  authority,  as  if  he  would 
say,  **  What  other  janitor  in  New  York  can  exhibit  such  fine  specimens  of 
crankiness  and  eccentricity  ?  "  He  exalts  no  one  to  this  pantheon,  however, 
until  the  last  conceivable  device  for  holding  him  down  to  the  level  of  ordi- 
nary mortals  has  been  tried  in  vain.  Reversing  the  maxim  of  Richelieu,  his 
policy  might  perhaps  thus  be  fairly  formulated  : 

"  First,  employ  all  means  to  crush  !  "    "  Failing  these  ? ''    "  All  methods  to  conciliate  I  " 

The  janitor  is  quite  loyal  to  the  undergraduates ;  and  when  each  depart- 
ing class  of  them  (after  having  been  for  four  years  summoned  to  their  daily 
recitations  by  his  hourly  beatings  of  the  gong ;  and  after  having,  for  that 
period,  tormented  him  by  the  tricks  and  skylarking  customary  with  such 
youth)  present  him  or  his  wife  with  a  gift  of  silver-ware  or  jewelry,  as  a  final 


for  to  your  complaint  he  will  reply  that  it  was  *'  pmvly  an  accident  independent  of  his  will." 
True,  you  can  retaliate,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  you  will  come  off  first  best.  And  it  is  not  the 
ODndei^ge's  ability  to  cause  petty  annoyances  which  constitutes  his  importance.  In  his  hands  he 
holds  your  credit,  your  repnitation,  your  fortune,  and  your  honor.  Should  you  undertake  any 
business  enterprise  it  is  of  the  concierge  that  is  asked  information  of  your  standing ;  should 
3rcm  have  any  difficulty  with  Dame  Justice,  he  is  the  first  authority  appealed  to  for  proofs  of 
your  honorableness ;  should  you  change  your  tailor,  it  is  your  condeige  to  iRdiom  will  be  put  the 
question  of  your  solvency.  Everything  depends  upon  jrour  relations  with  this  autocrat,  who  will 
give  a  certificate  for  the  Prix  Montyon  to  the  blackest  of  scoundrels,  or  ruin  the  standing  of  an 
honest  man,  according  to  the  degree  of  generosity  of  the  individual.  Last  week,  a  concierge 
was  sentenced  to  a  heavy  fine  and  sixteen  days  in  jail  for  defamation  of  character,  but  few  per- 
sons are  brave  enough  to  risk  the  scandal  which  that  suit  caused,  when  the  plaintifiTs  character 
was  torn  to  shreds  by  the  defendant's  counsel ;  and  so  people  go  on  and  let  themselves  be  bled 
and  blackmailed.— Paris  correspondence  (Sept.  25)  of  the  New  York  Times,  Oct.  12, 1884,  p.  5. 


46o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

testimonial  of  good-will,  he  is  always  equal  to  the  occasion.  I  mean  that  he 
makes  it  an  excuse  for  "  treating  "  the  class  to  a  "  reception  *'  whose  ex- 
pensiveness  must  considerably  exceed  the  mere  money  value  of  their  gift, 
and  whose  chief  feature  is  a  '^  speech  of  acceptance,"  glorifying  this  latest 
class  as  superior  to  all  its  distinguished  predecessors.  The  janitor  rather 
prides  himself,  indeed,  on  his  oratorical  powers,  and  as  these  have  given  him 
a  sort  of  reputation  among  the  local  political  managers,  he  not  unfrequently 
figures  at  their  autumn  **  campaign  rallies "  in  the  thickly-settled  region 
below  the  Square.  I  believe  this  is  the  only  vanity  he  ever  indulges  in  out- 
side the  Building ;  and  except  during  these  brief  seasons  of  shouting  the 
praises  of  his  party  (which  is  the  "  G.  O.  P.,*'  opposed  to  **  R.  R.  R."),  he 
may  always  be  found  there  at  evening  time,  ready  to  bar  its  doors  against  the 
outside  world,  promptly  on  the  stroke  of  lo.  Portraits  of  his  admired  polit- 
ical leaders  form  a  prominent  feature  in  the  adornment  of  the  walls  of  his 
office,  but  he  is  not  an  "  offensive  partisan  '*  to  any  such  extent  as  the  Parisian 
concierge,  who  suppresses  all  political  circulars  and  newspai>ers  which  he 
does  not  wish  his  tenants  to  read,  and  who  takes  care  to  keep  them  fully  sup- 
plied with  the  literature  of  his  own  party.  Dwellers  in  the  University,  on 
the  other  hand,  need  not  allow  any  of  their  mail-matter  to  be  submitted  to 
the  janitor's  inspection,  for  the  government  postmen  are  instructed  to  make 
direct  deliveries  at  the  separate  chambers  of  all  who  express  a  wish  to  that 
effect  In  this  way  also  it  is  distinguished  from  an  ordinary  apartment-house 
or  hotel,  for  there  the  postal  deliveries  are  all  made  at  the  main  office. 

In  enumerating  the  physical  shortcomings  of  the  place,  which  the  tenant 
must  remedy  at  his  own  expense  if  he  wishes  to  live  with  much  comfort  or 
elegance,  I  have  noted  by  implication  the  general  absence  of  what  are  called 
"  modern  improvements.*'  The  absence  of  any  general  means  for  heating  or 
"  elevating  "  serves  the  good  purpose,  however,  of  lessening  the  dangers  of 
fire.  These  are  already  so  considerable  that  the  underwriters  attach  a  high 
rate  of  insurance  to  the  Building ;  and  if  it  were  to  be  "  improved  "  by  steam 
pipes  and  an  elevator  shaft,  its  dry  wooden  floors  and  staircases  would  doubt- 
less soon  disappear  before  the  flames.  Such  a  disaster  would  not  be  likely 
to  imperil  the  life  of  a  tenant  in  the  main  structure, — ^for,  in  the  improbable 
case  of  both  its  stairways  burning  simultaneously  »»the  bottom,  with  such 
suddenness  as  to  forbid  descent,  he  could  still  ascena  to  the  roof,  and  thence 
easily  jump  down  to  the  roofs  of  the  houses  which  adjoin  each  wing.  If, 
however,  a  fire  should  start  at  the  foot  of  the  narrow  stairway  of  either  of 
these  wings,  it  would  be  apt  to  leap  almost  instantly  to  the  top  of  the  tower 
(induced  by  the  draft  which  a  window  kept  constantly  open  there  would  en- 
sure), and  thus  shut  off  all  chance  of  the  tenants*  escape,  unless  they  were 
able  to  lower  themselves  from  the  outer  windows  to  the  street  below.  In 
other  words,  these  wings  are  distinctively  death-traps,  though  they  were  orig- 
inally designed  to  serve  as  elegant  abodes  for  the  Chancellor  and  Vice  Chan- 
cellor of  the  University,  and  were  the  only  parts  of  it  thought  fit  to  live  in. 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOUS.        461 

1  myself  would  not  sleep  in  one  of  them  for  a  single  night  without  a  fiie- 
escape  by  my  bedside  {I  keep  one,  in  fact,  even  in  my  own  much  safei  cham- 
bers) ;  and  the  general  hopelessness  of  saving  any  property  from  destruction, 
in  case  a  fire  should  once  get  fairly  started  in  any  part  of  the  Castle,  may 
well  serve  as  a  barrier  to  prevent  a  cautious  man  from  risking  his  treasures 
in  It.  A  lazy  one  will  likewise  do  well  to  think  twice  before  he  pitches  his 
camp  where  access  can  only  be  gained  by  the  ascent  of  nearly  one  hundred 
steps;  for  the  best  apartments — like  so  many  other  best  things  in  life — are 
those  at  the  top. 

In  direct  contrast  to  the  practice  of  other  American  colleges  and  univer- 
sities (the  latter  word  has  been  so  generally  misused  here  that  it  13  now 
synonymous  with  the  former  in  ordinary  usage),  where  the  president  is  ex- 
pected to  be  the  chief  motive  power  in  the  management,  and  to  bring  great 
things  to  pass  by  that  personal  capacity  to  properly  grasp  and   combine  de- 
tails which  is  catted  executive  ability — the  Chancellor  of  the  University  is 
excused  from  all  attention  to  its  finances.    The  present  incumt>ent  of  the 
office  is  the  pastor  of  one  of  the  largest  congregations  in  the  city,  and  his 
immediate  predecessor  held  a  similar  position.    Hence,  as  the  duties  directly 
pressing  upon  every  such  man  must  always  be  beyond  his  power  of  fullil- 
ment,  even  when  hedevoles  every  atom  of  energy  to  the  work  of  his  church 
alone,  the  business  management   of  the  University  is  of  necessity  abdicated 
to  others.    The  trustees,  of  coutse,  are  the  legal  managers,  in  whom  all  ulli- 
male  authority  rests  ;  but,  as  active  men  of  the  world,  absorbed  in  their  own 
affairs,  they  like  to  avoid  the  irksomeness  of  attending  to  petty  details,  by 
putting  as  much  as  possible  of  responsibility  for  them  upon  the  shoulders  of 
the  two  senior  professors.    These  in  turn,  being  already  overburdened  with 
tbeir  own  proper  duties  as  instructors,  are  inclined,  when  such  matters  cannot 
easily  l>e  referred  back  to  the  trustees,  to  leave  them  to  the  janitor;  who  thus 
l)ecomes,  in  effect,  the  executive  chief  of  the  institution.    A  chronic  want  of 
funds  for  its  proper  maintenance  adds  to  the  inlerestingness  of  this  curious 
situation,  so  far  as  casual  tenants  are  concerned.    If  one  of  these  objects  to  a 
leaky  roof  or  broken  window,  an  overcliarge  of  rent  or  inefficient  service,  and 
gels  tired  of  talking  to  the  janitor  on  the  subject,  perhaps  he  may  nerve  him- 
self up  to  the  point  of  bringing  his  grievance  before  one  of  the  professors, 
who  may  very  likely  refer  him  to  one  of  the  trustees.    The  trustee  doesn't 
want  to  be  bored  with  the  case,  andrefers  him  back  to  another  professor,  who 
perhaps  refers  him  to  the  janitor  as  Gnat  . 
ing  been  wasted  in  getting  the  matter  as  f; 
go  by  before  anything  is  done, — even  ai 
granted.    After  the  average  man  has  been 
liandied  back  and  forth  between  (be  repre 
cally  unapproachable  authority, — he  of  c 
tome  house  where  less  chaotic  conditions 
in  his  footsteps  and  in  due  time  unilergoe 


462  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

new  tenant  chances  to  have  more  philosophy  than  "  the  average  man,**  he  will 
learh  to  accept  these  exasperations  as  natural  concomitants  of  an  exceptional 
situation ;  he  will  quietly  pay  for  such  ^  repairs  and  improvements  *'  as  he 
wants ;  he  will  see  that  if  the  whole  establishment  were  to  be  "  modernized 
and  run  on  business  principles,"  the  peculiar  charm  of  it  would  disappear. 

This  charm  attaches  to  one*s  individual  ability  to  run  his  own  part 
of  the  Castle  in  his  own  way ;  and  '*  his  part  *'  is  practically  "  the  whole,*' 
for  all  the  rest  of  the  tenants  are  in  effect  his  vassals  and  servitors :  their 
presence  is  essential  to  his  own  safety  and  happiness,  though  they  ensure  this 
without  personal  contact  Like  the  retinue  of  an  old  feudal  castle,  they  give 
a  human  attractiveness  to  the  few  chambers  which  the  lord  thereof  really  uses 
as  his  own.  Like  the  lord  thereof,  on  the  other  hand,  each  resident  of  this 
Cistle  may  always  feel  reflected  upon  himself  the  dignity  of  its  entire  owners 
ship.  The  fact  of  such  residence  makes  his  life  a  mystery  to  every  outsider. 
It  conveys  no  notion  of  whether  he  is  rich  or  poor ;  whether  he  occupies  one 
room  or  many ;  whether  he  lives  in  entire  isolation  with  the  simplicity  of  a 
savage,  or  with  body-servants  at  his  nod  and  beck  to  supply  him  with  all  the 
luxuries  of  an  epicurean.  There  is  no  general  camaraderie  among  the  resi- 
dents ;  no  cohesiveness  between  the  independent  atoms ;  no  visits  exchanged 
between  rooms  unless  the  occupants  have  known  each  other  elsewhere.  It  is 
tacitly  understood  by  all  that  the  object  of  a  man*s  making  his  home  in  such 
a  place  is  not  to  form  new  acquaintances,  but  to  escape  from  those  already 
formed, — to  simplify  the  machinery  of  life  rather  than  to  complicate  it  The 
inspiring  fiction  of  '*  sole  ownership  by  each "  would  be  sadly  impaired 
if  the  presence  and  partnership  of  the  others  were  formally  recognized.  For 
my  own  part,  I  feel  the  utmost  friendliness  and  good-will  towards  my  co-pro- 
prietors of  the  Castle ;  but  I  believe  that  the  most  acceptable  manifestation  I 
can  make  of  the  sentiment  is  the  negative  one  of  letting  them  entirely  alone 
while  within  its  walls.  Were  I  to  be  met  in  a  remote  part  of  the  world  by 
some  man  who  had  lived  long  in  the  University,  his  mention  of  that  fact  would 
be  the  best  possible  passport  to  my  favor.  I  should  feel  in  advance  that  he 
would  make  an  interesting  companion,  because  no  one  without  great  resources 
in  himself  could  long  survive  a  stay  here.  The  capacity  to  endure  solitude 
with  cheerfulness  is  a  crucial  test  of  character,  so  far  as  concerns  showing  that 
it  is  above  the  commonplace ;  and  though  a  man  may  lead  here  a  very  social 
life  of  the  strictly  conventional  sort,  it  is* fairly  to  be  presumed  that,  unless 
he  were  fully  competent  to  enjoy  a  lonely  one  in  his  own  wigwam,  he  would 
not  long  submit  to  the  limitations  which  residence  here  imposes.  Their  lack 
of  camaraderie  ensures  a  sort  of  placid  feeling  in  the  janitor's  mind  that  the 
tenants  will  not  conspire  to  accomplish  his  overthrow,  as  is  often  done  in 
other  places  where  individual  resentments  of  slight  injuries  and  shortcomings 
are  combined,  by  conversation  and  interchange  of  experiences,  into  a  general 
hostile  sentiment  which  has  power  to  remove  the  object  of  it.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  is  a  fair  offset  to  this  in  the  uncertainty  that  the  janitor  nece»> 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        463 

sarily  has  concerning  the  possible  "  influence  "  of  any  given  tenant  with  some 
unknown  member  of  the  board  of  trustees.  This  fact  that  he  is  employed  by 
a  mysterious  body  of  far-extending  and  undiscoverable  connections,  instead 
of  by  a  single  owner  whose  friends  could  be  easily  identified,  is  evidently  a 
fact  that  tends  to  secure  good  treatment  for  the  tenants.  There  is  always  a 
dreadful  possibility  that  each  one  of  these  may  have  a  **  friend  at  court,"  with 
power  to  work  the  guillotine  remorselessly,  if  things  go  wrong  I 

In  explaining  how  '*  its  publicity  makes  privacy,"  I  have  said  that  the 
habitual  passing  of  many  men  and  women  through  the  corridors  renders  the 
presence  there  of  any  additional  man  or  woman  quite  unnoticeable ;  yet  I 
think  that  a  chance  visitor,  late  in  the  day,  after  the  departure  of  the  students 
and  their  instructors,  would  be  apt  to  get  the  idea  that  the  Building  was  quite 
uninhabited.  It  is  certainly  exceptional  when  the  long  halls  re-echo  any 
other  tread  than  my  own,  on  my  passage  through  them.  During  the  seven 
years  while  the  apartments  adjoining  mine  were  held  by  two  college  acquaint- 
ances, with  whom  I  exchanged  many  calls,  I  am  sure  that  I  never  met  them 
on  the  stairways  a  dozen  times.  During  an  equally  long  interval  while  the 
editor-in-chief  of  the  daily  newspaper  which  employed  me  had  apartments 
here  which  I  used  to  pass  two  or  three  times  each  day,  and  which  I  knew 
that  he  emerged  from  each  day,  I  never  saw  him  seven  times,  except  inside 
his  chambers  or  the  editorial  rooms.  Reflecting  upon  these -curious  reversals 
of  probability,  one  might  almost  be  pardoned  for  a  superstitious  belief  in  the 
existence  of  some  subtle  influence  which  impels  each  owner  of  the  Castle  to 
enter  or  leave  it  only  at  times  when  he  is  least  likely  to^be  confronted  by  any 
living  reminder  of  the  truth  that  he  is  not  really  the  sole  proprietor  of  its 
magnificent  solitude.  As  the  chances  of  casual  contact  between  tenants  who 
are  acquainted  is  so  slight,  it  follows  that  a  man  may  live  here  for  years  be- 
fore the  faces  of  non-acquaintances  become  familiar  enough  to  impress  them- 
selves upon  him  as  belonging  to  residents  rather  than  to  the  ever-changing 
mass  of  visitors.  Of  the  l/itter,  as  of  tenants  who  stay  but  a  year  or  two,  it 
may  be  said :  *'  Come  they  and  go,  we  heed  them  not,  though  others  hail  their 
advent"  Names  of  residents  become  fixed  in  mind  sooner  than  faces,  for 
they  are  seen  accredited  to  the  Building  in  newspapers  and  directories,  or 
noticed  at  the  janitor's  post-office,  or  reported  through  mutual  acquaintances. 
Indeed,  there  formerly  existed  a  lonesome-looking  bulletin-board  where  a 
new-comer  sometimes  nailed  up  his  '*  card,"  as  a  guide  to  those  who  might 
wish  to  discover  the  exact  number  of  his  room ;  but  no  old-resident  ever  en- 
couraged a  device  so  inharmonious  with  the  spirit  of  the  place,  and  this  mis- 
called **  directory  "  has  been  wisely  obliterated.  Unless  a  visitor  **  gets  his 
bearings,"  and  exact  information,  at  the  janitor's  office,  he  may  now  wander 
alv>at,  as  in  a  labyrinth,  for  an  indefinite  period,  without  finding  the  person 
whom  he  is  in  search  of,  or  without  being  confronted  by  any  obtrusive  sign 
whatever.  The  corridors,  I  may  add,  are  lighter  at  night  than  af  any  other 
time;  for  gas  jets  bum  there  continuously  until  dawn. 


464         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Though  a  master  of  the  Castle  soon  grows  familiar,  in  these  several 
ways,  with  certain  names  as  belonging  to  its  retinue,  and,  ultimately,  with  cer- 
tain faces,  he  may  be  a  still  longer  time  in  connecting  the  faces  with  the 
names.  Thus,  the  existence  of  the  Nestor  of  the  place  never  happened  to 
be  revealed  to  me  until,  in  preparing  for  print  "  a  directory  of  Yale  men  liv- 
ing in  New  York  and  its  environs  "  (1879),  I  had  occasion  to  unearth  his 
name.  Were  it  not  for  the  conventional  ban  which  rests  upon  each  resident, 
against  impairing  the  freedom  of  the  place  by  forming  any  acquaintanceships 
there,  I  should  be  tempted  to  intrude  upon  the  privacy  of  this  venerable  man, 
and  beg  him  to  tell  me  about  some  of  the  interesting  people  who  have  been 
hidden  here  with  him  behind  these  walls,  at  one  time  or  another,  during  the 
half-century  (for  the  tradition  is  that  he  began  as  a  tenant,  among  the  very 
first,  as  soon  as  his  undergraduate  days  were  over).  I  recall  a  rumor  that 
Sam  Colt  was  a  resident  during  the  years  while  he  was  perfecting  the  idea 
of  the  "  revolver  "  which  gave  him  fame  and  fortune ;  and  I  know  that  quite 
a  long  catalogue  might  be  made  of  men  who  have  attained  distinction  as 
painters,  or  lawyers,  or  politicians,  or  authors,  as  a  sequel  to  obscurity  here  in 
earlier  days.  That  obscurity  seems  to  me  to  have  had  in  it  more  likelihood 
of  happiness,  however,  than  the  celebrity  of  later  date.  *'  As  a  man  thinketh, 
so  is  he."  I  know  nothing  of  the  thoughts  of  the  man  who  has  lived  here 
longest ;  but  in  the  fact  of  his  long  residence  here  I  account  him  outwardly 
fortunate.  When  he  went  up  to  New  Haven  as  a  Freshman  in  1833  he 
joined  a  class  of  young  fellows  from  whom  have  since  been  elected  a  President 
of  the  United  States,  aOhief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  (the  officer  of  great- 
est dignity  in  America),  a  United  States  Senator  of  New  York,  a  Minister  to 
England,  a  member  of  two  Presidential  Cabinets,  a  Governor,  a  General,  a 
College  President,  and  a  long  line  of  professors,  clergymen,  lawyers,  and 
other  dignitaries  whose  names  have  attained  wide  repute  in  their  several 
States,  if  not  in  the  nation  at  large.  Yet  this  veteran,  who  has  kept  secluded 
in  Washington  Square,  during  all  these  years,  not  even  reporting  to  the  class 
secretary  the  fact  of  his  existence,  appears  to  me  to  have  been  happier  in  his 
'*  environment "  than  any  of  those  more  distinguished  classmates  who  have 
flaunted  themselves  in  the  fierce  light  that  beats  about  the  great  dome  in 
Washington  City.  Not  a  single  one  of  these  eminent  people  possesses  my 
personal  admiration ;  for  even  the  Chief  Justice  has  forbidden  me  to  hold 
him  in  high  honor  since  that  lamentable  day  when  he  decided  that  neither  the 
Constitution  nor  the  Supreme  Court  should  any  longer  serve  the  citizen  as  a 
barrier  against  the  confiscating  powers  of  Congress. 

Indeed,  I  am  free  to  say  that,  of  all  the  men  who  have  made  any  public 
stir  in  the  world  during  the  years  in  which  I  have  been  breathing  its  air,  I  can 
recall  only  two  who  have  done  anything  which  I  myself  should  have  taken  i^- 
preme  pleasure  in  doing :  pleasure  enough,  I  mean,  to  compensate  for  the  loss 
of  personal  freedom  implied  in  the  notoriety  necessarily  accompanying  such 
public  acts.    One  was  an  English  playwright ;  the  other  an  American  naval 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        465 

officer.  When  the  foniier  paused  from  his  routine  work  in  London  and  lis- 
tened to  the  mirthful  echoes  coming  back  from  every  city  and  town  and  ham- 
let in  the  world  that  spoke  his  mother-tongue,  assuring  him  that  the  praises 
of  "  Pinafore  '*  were  being  simultaneously  chanted  in  a  continuous  chorus 
which  encircled  the  planet, — ^when  he  reflected  that  no  mortal's  pen  had  ever 
before  been  given  power  thus  to  enliven  the  broad  countenance  of  the  whole 
mighty  English-speaking  race  with  such  a  burst  of  **  vast  and  inextinguishable 
laughter," — I  think  the  sensation  must  have  been  worth  having.  Likewise, 
when  the  other  man  laid  his  right  hand  on  the  Obelisk  at  Alexandria  and  with 
his  left  set  it  up  again  in  New  York, — ^when,  having  quietly  accomplished,  by 
means  of  his  own  invention,  a  unique  enterprise  which  all  well-informed  persons 
had  ridiculed  as  "  impossible,*'  he  saw  the  mighty  monolith  swinging  majes- 
tically into  position  on  its  pedestal  in  Central  Park, — I  think  that  he,  too,  on 
that  icy  midday  of  midwinter,  must  have  felt  entirely  ''good."^  It  is  the  pri- 
vate, subjective  sensation,  in  each  of  these  cases,  which  appeals  to  me  as 
ezceptionably  admirable, — ^not  the  public,  objective  celebrity  attaching  there- 
to. Indeed,  I  do  not  suppose  that  either  man  has  won  any  permanent  fame, 
since  that  is  usually  reserved  for  those  who  are  appointed  to  do  something 
of  universal  human  interest,-— such  as  successfully  superintending  the  slaughter 
of  a  vast  multitude  of  the  human  race,  as  Lincoln  and  Grant  were  appointed 
in  our  day.  Finer  far  than  that,  however,  seems  to  me  the  sensation  of  hav- 
ing secretly  commanded  Castle  Solitude  during  all  this  troublous  half-century ; 
though  whether  any  resident  has  really  lived  here  as  its  commander,  or  only 
as  one  of  its  retinue,  can  of  course  be  known  to  his  own  heart  alone.  It  is 
an  intangible  essence  whose  quality  depends  upon  the  intellectual  bent  of  the 
individual, — upon  his  willingness  to  accept  exclusively  one  half  or  the  other 
of  this  double-definition : 

Name  and  fame  ?    "  To  fly  sublime  through  the  courts,  the  camps,  the  schools !  " 
"  *T!s  to  be  the  ball  of  Time,  bandied  in  the  hands  of  fools  I  " 

Aside  from  the  artists,  for  whom  this  has  always  been  a  recognized 
haunt,  I  think  that  a  majority  of  the  tenants  have  always  been  college-bred 
men,  and  that  Yale  has  always  had  more  graduates  here  than  any  other  one 
college.  This  has  certainly  been  the  fact  during  the  last  decade ;  and  Yale 
has  also  been  continuously  represented  in  the  Faculty  by  eminent  and  influen- 
tial professors.  There  existed  at  New  Haven  in  my  time,  twenty  years  ago 
(manifesting  itself  most  tangibly  in  the  region  of  "  the  fence,"  on  lazy  sum- 
mer evenings),  a  sort  of  halo  of  sympathetic  respect  for  the  memory  of  the 
unknown  genius  to  whom  tradition  had  accredited  the  apothegm :  "  Yale 
College  would  be  the  ideal  place  for  an  education,  if  the  Faculty  would  only 
dispense  with  the  literary  and  religious  exercises  I "  Perhaps  the  influence  of 
that  ancient  but  ever-appetizing  jest  accounts  in  part  for  the  preponderance  of 

*I  feel  proud  to  record  that,  after  erecting  the  Obelisk  (Jan.  aa,  1881),  Lieutenant  Com- 
mander Henry  H.  Gorringe  lived  for  two  or  three  years  in  the  University  Building.     He  died 

before  completing  his  45th  year  (July  6,  1885),  in  a  house  that  fronts  upon  Washington  Square. 
80 


466  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  college  in  respect  to  the  number  oC  graduates  who  have  sought  to  realize 
on  Washington  Square  this  delightful  dream  of  an  academic  Utopia,  by  enroll- 
ing themselves  as  honorary  members  in  this  real  University  of  Cockagne.^ 
To  me,  at  all  events,  a  special  zest  is  given  to  life  here  by  a  consciousness  of 
the  **  literary  and  religions  exercises  "  which  are  raging  on  all  sides  of  me, 
and  which  others  are  compelled  to  take  part  in  while  I  myself  escape  such 
thralldom.  The  dim  strains  from  the  chapel  organ  add  to  my  tranquillity  by 
reminding  me  that  no  Faculty  any  longer  have  power  to  haul  me  from  bed, 
by  that  signal,  to  an  unwilling  and  unbreakf asted  participation  in  the  formality 
called  "morning  prayers."  Even  the  bowlings  and  fights  and  rushes  and 
miscellaneous  horse-play  with  which  the  younger  classes  of  collegians  some- 
times render  the  halls  uproarious,  serve  an  excellent  moral  purpose.  Like 
the  constant  demands  which  a  troop  of  active  children  make  upon  their  father, 
the  turmoil  and  tomfoolery  of  these  academic  children  help  prevent  the  resi- 
dent bachelor  from  becoming  entirely  self-absorbed.  Their  antics  help  keep 
him  in  accord  with  the  fun  and  freshness  of  the  new  generation,  by  the  force 
of  the  reminiscence  which  they  awaken  of  his  own  more  frolicsome  days. 
'*  When  I  was  imbibing  classic  culture,"  he  reflects ;  **  when  I  used  to  '  sock 
with  Socrates,  rip  with  Euripides,  and  mark  with  Marcus  Aurelius,*  this  same 
sort  of  nonsense  pleased  me  too.    As  the  dear,  departed  Calverley  hath  it, 

'  When  within  my  veins  the  blood  ran,  and  the  carls  were  on  my  brow, 
I  did,  O  ye  onder^gradaates,  much  as  ye  are  doin^if  now ! '  ** 

"  Anything  for  a  quiet  life  *'  is  a  rendering  I  like  to  make  of  Algernon 
Sidney's  famous  phrase,  '*  Ense  petit  placidam  sub  lihertaie  qmetem^  which 
winds  its  Latin  length  around  the  historic  Indian  on  the  coatof-arms  of 
Massachusetts ;  or,  as  I  sometimes  expand  the  idea,  when  I  gaze  upon  the 
full-sized  figure  of  that  noble  savage,  frescoed  upon  the  ceiling  of  my  hall- 
way, **  Hell  fight  to  the  last  gasp,  if  need  be,  but  he  will  have  peace."  The 
unique  advantage  of  Castle  Solitude  seems  to  me  to  be  this  :  that  peace  may 
here  be  had  for  the  least  possible  amount  of  fighting, — that  a  quiet  life  may 
here  be  led  without  the  sacrifice  of  an  "  anything  "  which  is  of  supreme  value. 
I  do  not  extol  the  place  as  a  hermitage,  but  rather  because  it  allows  those 


'Such  a  tendency  has  even  gained  recognition  in  current  fiction,  as  shown  by  this  extract 
from  a  Yale  professor's  tale,  contrasting  the  expectations  of  certain  imaginary  classmates,  on 
graduation  night,  with  the  stories  of  their  actual  lives,  as  reported  twenty  years  later :  "  Ann- 
strong  and  you  have  changed  places  in  one  respect,  I  should  think,''  said  I.  "  He  is  keeping 
a  boarding-house  somewhere  in  Connecticut.  And  instead  of  leading  a  Tulkt^ghoniy  exist* 
enoe  in  the  New  York  University  Building,  as  he  firmly  intended,  he  has  married  and  pro- 
duced a  numerous  ofiEspring,  I  hear." — "  Split  Zephyr  ;  an  Attenuated  Yam  Spun  by  the  Pates,'* 
by  Henry  A.  Beers,  p.  79  (Scribners'  Stories  by  American  Authors,  Vol.  viii.,  1884,  PP-  3o6). 
The  allusion,  of  course,  is  to  one  of  the  characters  who  plays  so  prominent  a  part  in  *'  Bleak 
House,"  and  who  is  described  in  the  index  to  Charles  Dickens's  works,  as  follows :  "  Mr. 
Tulkinghom,  an  old-fashioned  old  gentleman,  legal  adviser  of  the  Dedlodts ;  '  an  oyster  of  the 
old  school,  whom  nobody  can  open.'  " 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        467 

things  which  cannot  elsenhere  be  had  except  amid  the  disccnnforts  of  a 
hermitage.  As  "  the  happiness  of  sympathetic  human  intercourse  seems  to  me 
incomparably  greater  than  any  Other  pleasure," — as  the  companionship  of  my 
friends  seems  byfar  the  finest  enjoyment  that  existence  has  to  offer, — so  do  I 
value  this  curious  Castle  where  I  can  assert  my  own  nature  without  cutting 
myself  off  from  the  presence  of  the  people  whom  I  like,  and  can  lead  my  own 
life  without  arotising  the  resentment  of  the  people  whom  I  regard  with  indif- 
ference. "  The  condition  in  which  a  man  does  not  pay  formal  calls,  and  ts  not 
invited  to  stale  dinners  and  dances,  may  be  very  lamentable  and  deserving  of 
polite  contempt,  but  it  need  not  be  absolute  solitude,  as  society  people  as- 
sume. Such  is  not  the  condition  of  any  one  in  a  civilized  country  who  is  out 
of  a  prison  cell,"  In  a  large  city,  the  social  Instinct  can  be  gratified  by 
chance  acquaintanceships,  which  are  continually  changing,  like  those  formed 
on  a  journey.  All  sorts  and  patterns  of  "  the  human  various"  can  be  stud- 
ied off-hand,  and  without  need  of  introduction,  Plenty  of  people  worth  talk- 
ing to  are  always  obtainable  at  every  nook  and  corner.  What  fashionable 
folks  really  mean  when  they  stigmatize  a  city  man  as  "  solitary  "  is  not  that 
he  really  leads  the  lonely  life  of  a  hermit,  but  that  he  refrains  from  those 
sodal  relationships  of  a  formal  and  permanent  sort  which  would  subject  him 
to  the  inflexible  conventions  of  "good  society."  In  other  words,  the  solitude. 
of  [he  Castle  results  not  from  its  standing  "  out  of  the  world  "  (for  it  is  in  the 
very  center  of  a  densely-peopled  and  most  interesting  world},  but  only  "out 
of  the  fashion."  Its  situation  seems  to  combine  many  of  the  advantages  of 
both  the  places  described  in  the  opening  words  of  the  extract  which  I  now 
give  from  a  favorite  author,  who  has  already  supplied  me  with  a  phrase  or 
two,  and  whose  remarks  about  solitude  and  independence  show  so  well  the 
value  and  the  cost  of  each  that  I  should  like  to  quote  even  more  extensively : 


light  and  wirraih  lliil  il  i>  i  liberal  eduo 
inH!  \Ai.a&  oi  the  IlebridEs,  with  no  campai 
ic  Allanlic.  One  luch  i^and  I  know  oell,  aj 
1  I  am  writing.    It  wa»  a  drtam  of 


in  ATcal  caliD  breadthi  of  kis 
«it,  id  a  comnaon  thatched  co 
WT  gladly  a  rich  line  h<ni« 
book),  without  the  leail  regi 
Tbo<^  ha  cheiiihed  a  few  li 


^68  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Dervousness,  but  because  he  felt  impriaooed  and  impeded  in  his  thinking,  which  needed  the 
depths  of  the  forest,  the  venerable  trees,  the  oommunication  with  prinueval  nature,  fa-om  which 
he  drew  a  mysterious  but  necessary  nourishment  for  the  peculiar  activity  of  his  mind.  His 
temper  was  grave  and  earnest,  but  unfailingly  cheerful  and  entirely  free  from  any  tendency  to 
bitterness.  On  the  walls  of  his  habitation  he  inscribed  with  a  piece  of  charcoal  a  quotation 
from  De  Sdnancour  :  "  In  the  worid  a  man  lives  in  his  own  age ;  in  solitude,  in  all  the  ages." 

He  who  has  lived  for  some  great  space  of  existence  apart  from  the  tumult  of  the  worid,  has 
discovered  tlte  vanity  of  those  things  for  which  he  has  no  natural  aptitude  or  gift — their  rtlatiut 
vanity,  I  mean,  their  uselessness  to  himself,  personally ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  has  learned 
what  is  truly  precious  and  good  for  him.  Surely  this  is  knowledge  of  inestimable  value  to  a 
man  :  surely  it  is  a  great  thing  for  any  one,  in  the  bewildering  confusion  of  detracting  toils  and 
pleasures,  to  have  found  out  the  labor  that  he  is  most  fit  for,  and  the  pleasures  that  satisfy  him 
best.  Society  so  encourages  us  in  affectations  that  it  scarcely  leaves  us  a  chance  of  knowing  our 
own  minds ;  but  in  solitude  this  knowledge  comes  of  itself,  and  delivers  us  from  innumerable 
vanities.  The  man  of  the  world  does  not  consult  his  own  intellectual  needs,  but  considers  the 
eyes  of  hb  visitors ;  the  solitary  student  takes  his  literature  as  a  lonely  traveler  takes  food  when 
he  is  hungry,  without  reference  to  the  ordered  courses  of  public  hospitality. 

The  life  of  the  perfect  hermit,  and  that  of  those  persons  who  feel  themselves  nothing  in- 
dividually, and  have  no  existence  but  what  they  receive  from  others,  are  alike  imperfect  Uvea. 
The  perfect  life  is  like  that  of  a  ship  of  war,  which  has  its  own  place  in  the  fleet  and  can  share 
in  its  strength  and  discipline,  but  can  also  go  forth  alone  in  the  solitude  of  the  infinite  JS«t.  We 
ought  to  belong  to  society,  to  have  our  place  in  it,  and  yet  to  be  capable  of  a  complete  individual 
existence  outside  of  it  I  value  society  for  the  abundance  of  ideas  which  it  brings  before  us,  Kke 
carriages  in  a  frequented  street ;  but  I  value  solitude  for  sincerity  and  peace,  and  for  the  better 
understanding  of  the  thoughts  that  are  truly  ouis.  We  need  aodety  and  we  need  solitude  also, 
as  we  need  summer  and  winter,  day  and  night,  exercise  and  rest.  Society  is  necessary  to  give 
us  our  share  and  place  in  the  colleaive  life  of  humanity ;  but  solitude  is  necessary  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  individual  life. — "  The  Intellectual  Life,"  by  P.  G.  Hamerton,  pp.  332-333, 
324-327  (Boston  :  Roberts  Bros.,  1873,  pp.  455). 

Shelley  was  a  lover  of  solitude ;  which  means  that  he  liked  full  and  adequate  human  inter- 
course so  much  that  the  insufllcient  imitation  of  it  was  intolerable  to  him.  It  is  in  this  aa  in 
other  pleasures,  the  better  we  appreciate  the  real  thing,  the  less  we  are  disposed  to  accept  the 
spurious  copy  as  a  substitute.  By  far  the  greater  part  of  what  passes  for  human  intercourse  is 
not  intercourse  at  all,  but  only  acting,  of  which  the  highest  object  and  most  considerable  merit  is 
to  conceal  the  weariness  that  accompanies  its  hollow  observances.  Steady  workers  do  not  need 
much  company.  To  be  occupied  with  a  task  that  is  difficult  and  arduous  bat  that  we  know  to  be 
within  our  powers,  and  to  awake  early  every  morning  with  the  delightful  feeling  that  the  whole 
day  can  be  given  to  it  without  fear  of  interruption,  is  the  perfection  of  happiness  for  one  who 
has  the  gift  of  throwing  himself  heartily  into  his  work.  Thb  is  the  best  independence, — to  have 
something  to  do  and  something  that  can  be  done,  and  done  most  perfectly,  in  solitude.  Many 
of  us  would  rather  live  in  solitude  and  on  small  means  at  Como  than  on  a  great  income  in  Man- 
chester. As  there  is  no  pleasure  in  military  life  for  a  soldier  who  fears  death,  so  there  is  no  in- 
dependence in  civil  existence  for  the  man  who  has  an  overpowering  dread  of  solitude.  What 
the  railway  is  to  physical  motion,  settled  conventions  are  to  the  movements  of  the  mind.  There 
are  men  whose  whole  art  of  living  consists  in  passing  from  one  conventionalism  to  another,  aa  & 
traveler  changes  his  train.  They  take  their  religion,  their  politics,  their  education,  their  sodal 
and  literary  opinions,  all  as  provided  by  the  brains  of  others.  For  those  who  are  satisfied  with 
easy,  conventional  ¥rays,  the  desire  for  intellectual  independence  is  unintelligible.  What  is  the 
need  of  it  ?  Why  go,  mentally,  on  a  bicycle  or  in  a  canoe,  by  your  own  toilsome  exertions,  when 
ypu  may  sit  so  very  comfortably  in  the  train,  a  rug  round  your  lazy  legs,  and  your  softly  capped 
head  in  a  comer?  Independence  and  originality  are  so  little  esteemed  in  what  is  called  "good 
society  "  in  France,  that  the  adjectives  "  indkpendoKt "  and  "  original*^  are  constantly  used  in  a 
bad  sense.    The  French  ideal  of  "  good  form  "  is  to  be  one  of  the  small  crowd  of  rich  and  fash- 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS. 

people,  imdktiDBUkluble  Irom  (he  othen.    fiolwnanuni  and  PhUudiusm  tit  i 


WHlth,  whicli  he  i 
rtatioD,  The  Philiiiine  ii 
wholly  lo  Ihe  attaiatnent  of  Ibo 


molulife  inLercBtinc.  luaiceticiBni,  tmthe  phyiical  aide,  Lb  not  a  aevere  religious  uceLkism,  but 
a  diipoution,  like  (hal  of  a  (horougli  loldier  or  Daveler,  Id  do  wilhoul  Luxury  and  comEotl,  and 
uke  the  aliaeDce  of  them  gayly  when  Ihcy  are  not  id  be  had.  Indeed,  there  may  be  loiiie  coo. 
QcctioQ  bclwHu  BohemLanisn  and  Lbc  Lie  of  (he  redlodian  whoTsuqa  b  hit  woodaand  coKBOIt 
himHlf  with  a  low  alandard  of  phyaical  well  being'  I  (ootelimcA  wopder,  aa  regarda  a  ocTtaiD 
Loved  and  receded  PhiLiitine  fhend  of  mLqe,  if  it  ever  occurred  La  him  Lo  reflecl,  Ln  (he  tedioua 
houn  d1  (do  tranquil  age,  how  rnucli  of  what  is  beat  in  (lie  world  had  been  umpLy  mUitd  by  Liiin ; 
bow  be  had  misled  all  Ihe  nriely  aod  Lnteren  of  atitt,  (he  charm  oi  inLeltecIual  locLely,  Ihe  io. 
fluenccs  of  scnius,  and  even  Lhe  phyakal  etauantaa  of  healthy  outdoor  amuaemenls.  A  (rue 
Bohemian  Itnowa  the  value  of  mere  shelter,  of  food  enough  (o  satisfy  hunger,  of  plain  clothes 
(hai  will  keep  him  auffidently  warm ;  and  in  the  things  of  (he  mind  he  values  the  liberty  lo  use 
his  awn  faculliea  as  a  kind  d  happiness  iu  itselL    HLs  philosophy  leads  him  to  (ake  an  imereat 

not  despise  Ihe  poor,  for,  whether  rich  or  poor  in  his  own  pcnon,  he  undenlands  umplidly  of 
life ;  and,  if  ibe  poor  nun  Uvea  in  a  mall  cotiagi,  he  Loo  has  prabibly  been  lodged  lesa  ipa- 
dously  Sill,  in  some  small  hut  or  tent.  He  has  lived  often,  in  nugh  travel,  as  Ihe  poor  live 
every  day.  1  maintain  thai  such  ustts  and  expertencen  arr  valualjle  both  in  pmoperily  and  in 
advenity.—"  Human  InLenonnc,"  by  P,G.  Hamerton,  1^47,  17,  ji,  ij,i»S,  314,  wilh  aen- 
tences  n-airanged  (Boston  1  Roberts  Bros.,  1884,  pp.  4}oV 

Aa  more  than  four  hundred   Btilish  subjects  have  subscribed   for  this 
book,  there  may  be  some  truly  loyal  souls  among  them  who  will  be  proud  to 
know  that  a  remote  suggestion  of  royalty,  as  well  as  an  odor  of  sanctity,  at- 
taches to  the  scene  of  its  composition.    I  think  it  quite  improbable  that  any 
other  American  book  has  ever  been  written  in  a  room  that  has   known   the 
presence  of  the  future  King  of  England ;  but  it  is  a  fact  thai  the  apartments 
inhabited  by  me  were  constructed  in  1875  in  a  part  of  the  space  that  formed 
the  chapel  of  the  University  at   the  time   when  the  toyal  Oxford  collegian,  - 
Albert  Edward,  was  forced  lo  do  penance  there,  a  quarter-century  ago.    The 
fallowing  report  of  the  ceremonial  was  published  soon  afterwards  in  the  stu- 
dents' Quarterfy  Magatine,  and  was  re 
October,  1878,  from  which  I  now  quot 
interest  to  home  readers,  as  throwing  a 
social  manners  and  customs  in  that  rt 
the  cemetery  at  Greenwood,  and  the  p 
that  the  chapel  of  the  University  was 
for  the  entertainment  of  distinguished 
press  with  an  idea  of  the  grandeur  and 
When  the  royal  vidlor  arrived  b  New  Yort 


470 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


second  thought,  owing  to  want  of  time ;  but  that  of  Chancellor  Ferris  was  promptly  accepted, 
and  the  honor  of  his  first  visit  in  this  city  was  awarded  to  odr  University.  As  soon  as  the 
Prince  had  signified  his  acceptance,  a  plan  of  reception  was  adopted,  and  Professor  Wedgwood, 
then  at  the  head  of  the  Law  Faculty,  appointed  to  carry  it  into  effect,  assisted  by  the  students 
in  the  collegiate  department.  The  visit  was  to  take  place  on  Friday,  October  la,  i860,  at  half- 
past  ten  A.  M.,  and  the  Prince  was  to  be  received  in  the  large  chapel.  This  chapel,  riang 
through  three  stories  bf  the  building,  had  a  capacity  for  comfortably  seating  twelve  hundred  per- 
sons, and  its  rich  ornamentation  and  beautiful  windows  gave  it  a  very  venerable  appearance, 
quite  in  contrast  to  the  small  chapel  in  which  we  now  worship  every  morning.  Invitations  were 
issued  to  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  professors  and  members  of  the  council,  and  to  the 
mothers,  sisters  and  "  lady  friends  "  of  the  students,  and  a  stage  was  erected  sufficiently  large 
to  accommodate  the  Prince  and  his  suite,  the  officers  of  the  University,  and  other  invited  guests. 

On  the  morning  of  the  appointed  day,  long  before  the  arrival  of  the  Prince,  the  dtapel  was 
densely  filled  with  as  brilliant  and  fascinating  an  audience  as  ever  assembled  within  its  walls. 
The  council,  professors,  and  judges  of  the  courts  assembled  in  the  Chancellor's  room ;  while  the 
students,  arrayed  in  their  college  gowns,  and  wearing  the  insignia  of  their  various  societies,  were 
arranged  in  double  columns  from  the  sidewalk  along  the  various  halls  through  which  &e  Prince 
was  to  pass  in  his  visit  to  the  several  departments  of  the  University.  The  Prince  and  his  suite 
left  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  at  half-past  ten  o'clock  and  drove  rapidly  down  Fifth  Avenue  to 
Washington  Square,  where  a  fine  view  of  the  University  Building  at  the  head  of  the  Square  was 
presented  to  them.  Alighting  at  the  main  entrance  on  University  Place,  the  Prince  was  met 
by  Prof.  Wedg^wood,  and  conducted  up  the  marble  stairway  to  the  main  hall,  where  he  was 
received  by  Chancellor  Ferris  in  his  official  robes.  Arm  in  arm  the  Chancellor  and  the  English 
student  proceeded  to  the  large  chapel,  followed  by  Lord  Lyons,  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  Earl 
St.  Germains,  General  Bruce,  the  British  Consul  Archibald,  and  other  members  of  the  Prince's 
suite,  with  the  officers  of  the  University  and  the  judges  of  the  several  courts.  As  the  procession 
passed  along  through  the  lines  of  students  to  the  chapel,  the  Prince  was  greeted  with  the  ut- 
most respect  and  deference.  As  he  entered  the  chapel,  the  band  struck  up  England's  national 
anthem,  and  the  whole  audience  rose  to  receive  the  Prince,  and  greeted  him  with  the  waving  of 
handkerchiefs  and  half-suppressed  words  of  welcome.  The  pixxmMton,  led  by  the  venerable 
Chancellor  and  the  young  Prince,  ascended  the  platform  and  passed  to  the  places  assigned  to 
them.  The  Prince,  with  his  suite,  took  a  position  on  one  side  of  the  platform,  and  the  council, 
professors  and  invited  guests  occupied  the  other  side.  A  short  consultation  was  then  held,  at 
the  termination  of  which  a  signal  was  given,  the  music  ceased,  and  the  audience  was  hushed  to 
profound  silence,  while  the  Chancellor  pronounced  an  address  of  welcome.  The  Prince,  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle  and  Lord  Lyons  had  each  expressed  a  wish  to  meet  on  the  occasion  of  their 
visit  three  of  the  professors,  who  were  personally  known  to  them,  and  who  had  attained  a  Euro- 
pean celebrity — P'rof .  Valentine  Mott,  at  that  time  acknowledged  to  be  the  first  surgeon  in  Amer- 
ica ;  Prof.  John  W.  Draper,  who  first  applied  photography  to  the  taking  of  portraits  from  life,  and 
in  his  room  in  the  University  Building  made  the  first  picture  of  the  human  face  by  the  light  of  the 
sun ;  and  Prof.  Samuel  F.  B.  Morse,  who  invented  the  electnvmagnetic  telegraph,  and  performed 
his  first  successful  experiment  within  the  walls  of  N.  Y.  U.  Accordingly  they  were  now  spe- 
cially introduced,  and  Prof.  Morse  expressed  his  most  hearty  thanks  for  the  kind  attentions 
shown  him  by  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  on  his  first  visit  to  London  with  his  infant  telegraph. 

A  neatly  engrossed  copy  of  the  Chancellw's-  address,  with  the  resolutions  previously 
adopted  by  the  council,  was  then  presented  to  the  Prince,  who  received  the  same  and  made  an 
appropriate  reply.  The  Chancellor  then  presented  to  the  Prince  the  members  of  the  council, 
the  professors  of  the  several  Faculties,  the  judges  of  the  courts,  and  the  ladies.  The  Prince 
mingled  freely  with  the  gentlemen  upon  the  platform  for  some  time,  and  then,  taking  the  arm  of 
the  Chancellor,  he  left  the  chapel  and  passed  into  the  law  library  and  lecture-room.  Here  he 
noticed  a  laxige  number  of  valuable  books  presented  to  the  University  by  King  William  IV.  and 
Her  Majesty  Queen  Victoria,  among  which  are  the  entire  publications  of  the  Record  Commis- 
sioners.   Mr.  John  Taylor  Johnston's  gift,  a  complete  modem  law  library,  seemed  to  attract 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        471 

opcCHl  ittcwigiL  FTom  Lhft  bw  HbATj  Lfa«  Prince  «1«  caadnctcd  u  the  cDuodl  chudba,  uid 
tbcoca  la  Uh  nurblfl  numy,  when  [he  OunfeUot  took  leave  ol  bis  royal  £ual.  Ai  the 
PnncA  aod  his  suile  cDtercd  (bdr  carriaget,  [he  itudeou  fDnoed  in  fronts  and,  joiced  by  ihttu- 
Hbds  of  ipecuton  Ifaere  aueinbled,  g^ve  ihree  ti[ncs  [hr«  beany  cbecrB  for  [he  Oxford  sIudenL 

Fire  days  later,  when  the  train  which  carrieil  the  Prince  ffO[n  Albany  to 
Boston  passed  through  Springfield,  and  tliat  mucb-sdmiied  youth,  standing 
on  the  rear  platform  thereof,  lifted  hia  little  beaver  hat,  in  acknowledgment 
of  the  acclamations  of  the  populace,  I  recollect  that  the  heavy  hand  of  a 
hackman  swept  me  and  my  school-fellows  from  the  places  of  vantage  we  had 
gained  on  the  wheels  of  his  vehicle, — so  that  we  saw  nothing  but  the  princely 
hat.     The  next  afternoon,  however,  enthroned  safely  upon  a  stool  in  the  win- 
_  dow  of  Little  &  Brown's  bookstore,  on  Washington  street,  I  gazed  squarely 
upon  the  red-coated  scion  of  royalty,  as  his  carriage  rolled  along  in  the  great 
procession  which  the  Bostonians  arranged  in  his  honor.     I  mention  these 
facts  for  the  sake  of  saying  that  though  I  was  an  "  ordinary,  human  boy 
enough"  to  take  a  keen  interest  in  any  sort  of  a  show  that  commanded  uni- 
versal popular  attention,  I  recall  my  personal  feeling  towards  the  central  fig- 
ure in  it  as  one  of  pily  rather  than  envy.     It  seemed  to  me  that  such  a  boy 
couid  have  no  fun.     I  felt  that  I  was  more  fortunate  in  the  possession  of  a 
frolicsome  bulMog,  and  in  the  liberty  to  play  with  him  to  my  heart's  content, 
after  school  hours  were  over,  than  this  resplendent  British  boy  could  ever 
hope  to  be.     Long  years  afterwards,  in  '76,  a  similar  sentiment  possessed  me, 
wben  I  gazed  upon  the  Prince's  mother,   as  she  made  a  royal  "progress" 
through  London,  to  signalize  the  opening  of  some  charitable  institution  at  the 
East  End.     Looking  into  the  face  of  this  most  distinguished  woman  in  the 
world,  tbe  uppermost  thought  in  my  mind  was  one  of  speculative  curiosity  as 
to  what  real  pleasure  there  could  conceivably  be  to  her  in  the  magnificent 
boredom  of  all  such  pomp  and  pageantry.     It  seemed  to  me  as  if  she  were 
owned  absolutely,  as  a  sort  of  toy,  by  the  mighty  mob  that  surged  in  loyal 
waves  around  her.     I  wondered,  too.  If  she  ever,  in  changing  about  from  one 
castle  or  palace  to  another,  felt  anylonglng  for  that  unattainable  sort  of  castle, 
ike  it  truly  her  own. 
niversity,  a  half-century  ago, 
isors  of  a  quarter-centuiy  ago 
I  In  the  Prince  to  admire  it. 
,  because  the  stars  in  their 
their  very  failure  was  a  part 
IB  I  live,  shall  at  least  in  one 
y,  they  were  the  instruments 
e, — what  no  mortal  men  could 
ve  power  to  do.    If  "  the  no- 
^rning  which  they  built  offers 
lobly.     From  Its  towers,  who- 
ne  "  may  clearly  ovcrlpok  the 


472  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

universe.  Like  as  a  London  cabman  looketh  with  critical  and  impersonal  in- 
terest upon  the  tendered  coin  which  represents  no  more  than  his  legal  fare,  so 
here  the  philosophic  observer  may  hold  at  arm's  length,  as  if  it  were  no  possi- 
ble concern  of  his,  that  mysterious  gift  called  Life.  If  America  is  indeed  dis- 
tinctively a  land  of  liberty,  that  place  in  it  where  the  quality  reaches  its  high- 
est development  ought  specially  to  interest  the  foreign  visitor.  Thus,  though 
the  "  Chancellor  "  of  twenty-five  years  ago  had  no  possible  conception  of  it, 
there  was  a  certain  poetic  appropriateness  in  forcing  the  future  King  of 
England  to  do  his  earliest  homage  in  America  at  what  seems  to  me  the  most 
sacred  shrine  in  the  habitable  globe  because  it  is  the  chosen  abode  of 
Freedom.  My  pen  may  not  have  had  power  to  paint  all  its  peculiarities  with 
a  graphic  touch ;  but  I  am  sure  that  they  deserve  such  painting.  I  am  sure 
that  I  rightly  use  the  superlative  when  I  characterize  it  on  my  letter-heads 
by  adapting  these  lines  from  Calverley : 

"  *  Nulla  fum  donanda  laatru '  is  that  Building  :  you  could  not — 
Placing  New  York's  map  before  you — light  on  half  so  queer  a  spot." 

I  am  sure,  too,  that  the  seemingly  strange  act  of  giving  to  such  a  subject 
the  longest  chapter  in  a  long  book  on  bicycling,  will  not  go  unsupported  by 
the  sympathy  of  my  three  thousand  subscribers.  Understanding  as  they  do 
the  supremely  exhilarating  sense  of  independence  which  the  whirling  wheel 
imparts,  to  the  motion  of  the  body,  they  will  appreciate  the  appropriateness 
of  my  describing  to  them  the  machinery  of  a  unique  habitation  whose  *' simple 
shelter "  allows  a  like  liberty  to  the  movement  of  the  mind.  They  will 
readily  recognize,  I  doubt  not,  the  subtle  analogy  which  exists  between  the 
Building  and  the  bicycle,  and  will  clearly  comprehend  why  the  two  must 
needs  be  coupled  in  my  admiration.  Yet,  as  the  great  majority  of  them  are 
much  younger  than  myself,  they  will  perhaps  be  thankful  for  the  reminder 
that,  while  I  admire  the  two,  my  book  recommends  to  them  only  the  one ; 
while  I  account  freedom  a  very  fine  thing,  I  do  not  urge  their  general  pursuit 
of  it,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other  fine  things  which  this  world  contains.  My 
own  experience  is  that  Renan  was  right  in  deprecating  the  common  talk 
which  ridicules  the  generous  "  illusions  of  youth,"  and  in  declaring  rather 
that  its  only  real  illusion  is  a  disbelief  in  the  brevity  of  life.  When  a  sense 
of  this  finally  comes  upon  a  man,  I  may  name  to  him  not  only  the  bicycle  for 
balm  but  the  Castle  for  consolation ;  but  for  his  earlier  and  brighter  days  my 
preferable  pointer  must  always  be  this  famous  old  poem  of  Robert  Herrick's  : 

"  Gather  the  roses  while  ye  may  I    Old  Time  is  still  a^ying ; 
And  this  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day,  to-morrow  wall  be  dying. 
The  glorious  lamp  of  heaven,  the  sun,  the  higher  he 's  a-getting. 
The  sooner  will  his  course  be  run,  the  nearer  he 's  to  setting. 
That  age  is  best  which  is  the  first,  when  youth  and  blood  are  warmer; 
But,  being  spent,  the  worse  and  worat  tinnes  shall  succeed  die  fomer. 
So,  be  not  coy,  but  use  your  time,  and  while  ye  may,  go  raairy, 
Lett,  haviiv  lost  but  oooe  your  prime,  you  may  forever  tany.'* 


.^V.^V..ZV« 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS. 

Confirmation  has  already  been  given — in  the  shape  of  foot-notes  to 
my  touring  reports,  showing  the  swifter  average  advance  made  by  other 
riders  on  the  same  routes — of  the  fact  insisted  upon  in  the  Preface,  that  such 
reports  instructively  exhibit  what  anybody  of  ordinary  physique  can  easily  do. 
I  have  said  that  this  book  would  seem  much  less  likely  to  gain  acceptance,  as 
a  valuable  contribution  to  human  knowledge,  if  it  recorded  the  exploits  of  an 
athletic  or  exceptionally  strong  and  vigorous  traveler,  rather  than  the  common- 
place experiences  of  a  man-of-no-account,  who  regulates  the  speed  and  the  dis- 
tance of  his  riding  by  the  simple  rule  of  getting  the  most  possible  pleasure 
from  it.  As  cumulative  evidence  in  the  same  line  of  argument,  I  offer  the 
present  chapter  to  prove  that  my  capacity  to  take  pleasure  thus,  in  laying 
down  a  long  bicycle-trail,  is  by  no  means  exceptional.  There  are  plenty  of 
other  men  who  enjoy  this  particular  form  of  **  conquering  the  earth  "  just  as 
heartily  as  I  do ;  and  several  of  them  have  indulged  in  such  amusement  much 
more  extensively  than  myself.  Those  whose  stories  I  here  group  together  are 
fairly  representative  cases ;  and  though  the  first  one  is  likely  to  forever  stand 
unique  in  history,  the  number  of  less-notable  long-distance  tourists  will  surely 
increase  with  each  advancing  year.  Some  parts  of  my  introduction  to  Chap- 
ter XXXI.  might  serve  also  as  a  suitable  preface  to  the  reports  now  given. 

Thomas  Stevens  (b.  Dec  24,  1854)  rightly  holds  the  place  of  honor  on  this  record.  He  has 
already  made  a  straightaway  bicycle  trail  of  8000  m., — an  incomparably  longer  and  more  difficult 
one  than  any  previoosly  in  existeDce,~-and  he  will  extend  it  during  1886,  until  it  completely  en- 
ckdes  the  globe,  unless  he  gets  killed  on  the  way.  trcaving  the  Pacific  ocean  at  San  Francisco, 
April  29,  1884,  he  pushed  the  bicyde  3700  m.  before  reaching  the  Atlantic  at  Boston,  August  4 ; 
and  reaoming  his  trail,  on  the  other  side,  at  Liverpool,  May  a,  1885,  he  extended  it  4300  m.  to 
Teheran,  the  capital  of  Persia,  September  30,  where  he  halted  again  for  the  winter,  to  prepare 
himseif  for  the  third  and  most  desperate  stage  of  his  dangeroiis  round-the-world  adventure.  A 
native  of  Great  Berkhamsted^  Hertfordshire,  Ei^and,  he  emigrated  to  America  at  the  age  of 
18,  and  went  immediately  to  join  a  brother  who  had  settled  w.  of  the  Mississippi.  From  that 
time  (1871)  he  never  recrossed  the  river  until  the  bicycle  brought  him  to  it,  13  years  later.  Much 
of  dus  period  was  given  to  farming  and  ranching  in  Missouri  and  Wyoming  (his  parents  stiU 
cany  on  a  fann  near  Kansas  City) ;  but  for  two  yeare  he  was  employed  in  the  rolling  mills  of 
the  Umoo  Padfic  r.  r.,  at  Laramie  City,  and  he  also  engaged  somewhat  in  out-door  "  railroad- 
ing," kept  a  small  store  for  a  while,  and  turned  his  hand  to  a  variety  of  things  such  as  offer  a 
livelihood  to  an  enterprising  emigrant  in  a  new  country.  Having  a  desire  to  vary  this  sort  of  life 
by  "  aeeing  more  of  the  world,"  the  notion  occurred  to  him  that  the  saddle  of  a  bicycle  might  be 
made  to  offer  a  practicable  outlook.  Hence  his  dedsion  to  attempt  the  ride  from  ocean  to 
ooeao,  in  the  belief  that  the  inddents  of  so  novel  a  journey  might  be  formulated  into  an  attract- 
ive book,  whose  publisher  would  supply  funds  for  continuing  the  trail  across  Europe  to  Con- 


474  "^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

suadnople,  and  peffaaps  ultimately  across  Asia  also.  He  had  never  even  mounted  a  wheel,  at 
the  time  of  conceiving  this  idea ;  but  a  two  hours'  trial  (Nov.,  '83)  made  him  a  rider,  and,  in  the 
early  spring,  he  went  to  San  Francisco,  for  a  few  weeks'  practice  on  the  roads  before  starting 
out  He  bought  a  Standard  Columbia  (painted,  50  in.),  and  quietly  pushed  it  across  the  conti- 
nent, in  105  days,  asking  favors  of  no  one.  Col.  Pope  then  presented  him  with  a  nickeled  Ex- 
pert, in  exchange  for  the  old  machine  but  made  no  further  motion  to  encourage  a  continuance 
of  the  enterprise ;  and  a  cerUin  New  York  sporting  publisher,  who  had  been  vaguely  kept  in 
mind  as  a  possible  patron  of  it,  was  found  not  to  be  the  man  whom  such  a  scheme  coukl  depend 
upon  for  trustworthy  support.  So  Stevens  set  about  making  his  first  serious  effort  with*the 
pen ;  and,  in  the  course  of  six  or  seven  weeks,  produced  a  narrative  of  some  38,000  words, 
which,  by  my  advice,  he  soW  to  Outing,  in  whose  columns  it  finally  appeared  (April,  May,  June 
and  July,  1885,  pp.  43-51,  164-1771  290-302,  4»o-4a2)i  with  «6  illustrations  by  W.  A.  Rogers. 
Encouraged  by  advance  payment  for  this,  he  worked  steadily  on,  from  October  to  March,  pre- 
paring a  more  elaborate  sketch  (about  140,000  words)  of  his  cross<ontinent  adventures;  and 
then  began  to  look  around  for  some  book-publishers  who  might  buy  the  manuscript.  Just  at 
this  time.  Col.  Pope,  a  chief  stockholder  in  the  magazine,  having  been  impressed  by  the  value 
of  his  Outing  articles,  and  the  genuineness  of  his  ambition  to  really  push  a  bicycle  round  the 
world,  invited  him  up  to  Boston,  and  commissioned  him  as  a  regular  correspondent  to  complete 
the  journey.  Like  all  such  correspondents,  he  is  presumably  allowed  his  expenses  and  a  certain 
sum  for  each  printed  production.  The  exact  details  of  the  arrangement  are  unknown  to  me, 
but  it  embraces  a  plan  of  ultimately  republishing  his  sketches  in  book  form.  Those  which  have 
appeared  in  the  successive  issues  of  Outing,  as  I  write  these  words,  are  designated  as  follows  : 
"From  America  to  the  German  Frontier"  (Oct.,  pp.  3S-So)>  "Germany,  Austria  and  Hun- 
gary" (Nov.,  pp.  183-X98),  "Through  Slavonia  and  Servia"  (Dec.,  pp.  386-302),  "  Rou- 
melia,  and  into  Turkey"  (Jan.,  pp.  379-395).  "Through  European  Turkey"  is  announced 
for  Feb.,  and  the  story  of  his  Asiatic  experiences,  from  Constantinople  to  Teheran  (1576  m.), 
will  begin  in  March  and  run  through  five  or  six  numbers.  If  he  survives  the  perils  which  beset 
the  last  section  of  his  proposed  pathway,  through  China,  he  will  sail  thence  home  to  San  Fran- 
dsco,  and  then  re-write  his  entire  experiences  to  form  a  large  volume  ("Around  the  World  on  a 
Bicycle,"  illustrated  by  all  the  pictures  in  the  Outing  series  and  many  new  ones),  for  publica- 
tion at  the  close  of  1887.  I  believe  that  he  left  in  London  the  manuscript  of  his  "Across 
America,"  and  I  presume  it  would  be  printed  there,  in  case  he  should  get  killed.  Otherwise,  he 
will  incorporate  it  with  the  larger  book,  and  never  issue  it  separately. 

In  contrast  to  my  own  "  guide-book  ideal "  of  supplying  minute  6icts  about  roads  and  dis- 
tances, for  the  special  benefit  of  cyders  who  may  wish  to  traverse  the  paths  I  have  explored,  he 
addresses  himself  to  the  task  of  pleasing  the  stay-at-home  public  in  general,  by  exhibiting  to 
them  simply  the  salient  points  of  his  experience,  without  reference  to  its  routine  drudgery  and 
common-place  details.  I  think  he  must  succeed  in  this,  for  his  gifts  as  a  descriptive  writer  are 
considerable,  and  he  evidently  has  the  knack  of  telling  a  story  in  a  way  to  make  it  interesting 
without  much  waste  of  words.  Considering  that  such  school  days  as  he  enjoyed  were  ended  au 
x8,  and  that  his  only  previous  efforts  with  the  pen  were  desultory  paragraphs  in  a  Laramie  news- 
paper, the  mere  literary  shcMrtoomings  of  his  magazine  pieces  are  surprisingly  few  and  unimpor- 
tant Indeed,  I  believe  that  a  simple  reprint  of  this  Outing  series,  "  From  San  Frandsoo 
to  Teheran,"  would  make  a  more  readable  book  than  any  existing  specimen  of  cycfing  litera- 
ture ;  and  I  predict  for  "  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle,"  if  he  completes  it,  a  very  extended 
sale.  As  he  has  little  liking  for  statistics,  he  prints  few  facts  about  himself  or  his  equipment,  ex- 
cept incidentally ;  and  most  of  the  information  which  I  now  give  as  to  these  points  is  derived 
less  from  Outing  than  from  notes  of  conversations  which  I  had  with  him  durii^  his  ei|^ 
months' stay  in  N.  Y.  On  the  first  forenoon  of  his  arrival  here  (Aug.  15,  '84)  he  accepted  aa 
invitation  to  visit  my  chambers  and  submit  to  a  rigorous  cross-questioning ;  and  the  last  thing  I 
urged  upon  him  when  I  said  good-bye,  on  the  deck  of  the  "  City  of  Chicago,"  just  about  start- 
ing to  carry  him  to  Liverpool  (April  9,  '85),  was  the  "  policy  of  putting  some  interestiiq^  8tati»> 
tics  into  his  reports,"    A  fairly-good  full-length  portrait  of  Stevens,  in  riding  costume,  standing 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS. 


47S 


beside  his  bicycle,  occupied  a  qoarter^Kige  of  ffetrper's  H^eekly  (Aug.  30,  '84,  "  from  a  photo- 
graph by  Flaglor  "),  and  was  accompanied  by  22  lines  of  biography.  A  rather  better  picture, 
also  full  length,  was  the  lithograph  which  the  Wheel  H^ffrid  (London^  June,  '85)  included  in  its 
'*  gallery  of  cyding  celebrities,"  with  a  two-page  descriptive  sketch.  A  faC'Simile  of  his  auto- 
graph was  appended  to  this,  and  also  to  OtUmg's  vignette  (Oct.,  '85,  p.  34,  from  an  English 
photograph),  which  is  the  most  truthful  likeness  of  the  three. 

The  distance  by  rail  from  San  Francisco  to  Boston  is  shown  in  the  official  guide  as  3416  m. 
Stevens  carried  no  cyclometer,  and  he  took  so  little  interest  in  the  statistics  of  distance  that  he 
never  even  reckoned  up  the  total  from  the  tables  in  the  guide.  When  I  asked  as  to  this  total, 
he  simply  said  that  he  "  guessed  his  bicycle  trail  from  ocean  to  ocean  was  at  least  200  m.  longer 
than  the  r.  r.  track,  and  that  he  haul  heard  this  called  3500  m.  long.''  Consulting  the  guide, 
however,  I  find  that  the  distance  from  Boston  to  Omaha,  by  way  of  Chicago  and  Rock  Island, 
is  1550  m.  (Boston  to  Buffalo,  510  m. ;  thence  to  Chicago,  540  m.),  and  that  the  three  sections 
of  the  Pacific  r.  r.,  near  which  his  route  generally  lay  as  far  as  the  Missouri  river,  have  their 
mileage  given  in  the  official  guide  thus  :  San  Francisco  to  Ogden,  834;  O.  to  Cheyenne,  515 ; 
C.  to  Omaha,  517.  Of  the  first  section,  he  was  forced  to  walk  from  i^  to  }  the  way,  and  the  propor- 
tion of  riding  for  the  next  two  sections  was  but  little  better.  As  to  this  rough  and  desolate  stretch 
of  continent,  where  his  own  trail  must  have  considerably  exceeded  1900  m.,  he  told  me  that,  if 
he  were  to  push  a  wheel  across  it  again,  he  would  rather  have  the  same  belong  to  a  barrow  than 
a  bicyde.  Such  propulsion  would  require  more  time,  but  would  involve  less  hardship,  for 
enough  food  and  blankets  to  make  the  tourist  comfortable  could  easily  be  trundled  along  in  the 
wheelbarrow.  Weighing  158  lbs.  at  the  start  (his  height  being  about  the  same  as  my  own,  5  ft. 
5  in.),  he  lost  25  lbs.  on  the  way  to  Cheyenne,  but  gradually  regained  it  before  the  end  of  his 
journey.  One  who  saw  him  in  the  dty  just  named  wrote  :  "  In  appearance,  he  was  anything 
but  a  holiday  wheelman.  Brown  as  a  nut,  and  mud-bespattered,  all  surplus  fat  had  been  worn 
off  by  his  severe  and  protracted  work.  His  blue  flannel  shirt  was  a  deal  too  large  for  him  and 
much  weather-stained.  His  knickerbockers  had  given  way  to  a  pairof  blue  overalls,  gathered  at 
the  knees  within  a  pair  of  duck  hunting  leggings,  once  brown,  but  now  completely  disguised  as 
to  texture  and  color  by  heavy  alkali  mud."  (These  overalls  were  worn  only  500  m. ,  RawUns  to 
Kearney  Junction,  where  he  was  overtaken  by  the  breeches  which  he  had  ordered  at  Ogden, 
and  which,  I  think,  served  to  the  end.)  He  carried  an  extra  riding-shirt,  and  a  long  doak  ot 
thin  waterproof,  which  he  used  as  a  protection  against  the  drippings  from  the  idcles  and  melting 
snow  dming  his  40  m.  tramp  through  the  r.  r.  snow-sheds ;  but  he  had  no  Y:oat  at  all,  from  ocean 
toocean.  "  Coatsare  not  in  style  among  the  Wyoming  cow-boys,"  hetold  me.  From  Ft  Sidney, 
too  m.  e.  of  Cheyenne,  "  by  the  courtny  of  the  tommanding  officer,  he  was  enabled  to  journey 
eastward  under  the  grateful  shatfe  of  a  military  summer  helmet,  in  lieu  of  the  semi-sombrero 
slouch  that  had  lasted  through  from  San  Francisco  " ;  and  he  wore  this  same  head-gear  on  the 
day  when  I  wdcomed  him  to  "  No.  56."  He  used  up  four  pairs  of  stockings  and  three  pairs  of 
canvas  shoes.  As  for  the  bicycle  itself,  he  certified  to  iu  makers  that  it  stood  the  strain  with- 
out break  or  any  excessive  wear,  thoi^h  he  "  took  uncounted  headers."  I  now  offer  his  story, 
in  the  first  {terson  and  present  tense,  as  if  I  were  quoting  an  abstract  which  he  had  prepared  for 
me  from  his  Ouitng  narrative*  In  truth,  however,  many  of  the  words  and  facts  never  appeared 
in  this,  but  are  derived  from  talks  I  had  with  him;  and  all  the  bracketed  numerals  (indicating 
miles  from  San  Francisco  on  the  r.  r.)  are  interpolated  by  me  from  the  official  guide,  as  ap- 
proximately showing  the  distances  on  his  actual  route.  It  should  be  understood  that  most  of 
these  names  to  which  numerals  are  attached  represent  merely  section-hotises,  in  charge  of  a 
section-boas  and  five  or  six  Chinese  laborers ;  and  that  the  difficulty  of  getting  any  sort  of  food 
at  such  places,  or  blankets  to  sleep  on,  was  often  extreme. 

*'  The  rainiest  winter  known  to  California  since  '57  preceded  my  start  from  Oakland  pier 
(Tuesday,  April  aa,  '84,  at  8.a8  a.  m.),  but  level  and  good  riding  brought  me  to  San  Pablo,  16 
m.,  in  i(  h.  Beyond  comes  a  succession  of  short  hills,  with  many  mud-holes  and  washouts,  and 
then  the  low  tule  swamps,  through  which  I  find  myself  trudging  at  6  o'clock,  though  I  am 
afterwards  able  to  ride,  by  the  light  of  the  burning  rushes,  and  so  spend  the  first  night  at  Suisun, 


476         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

sa  m.  beyond  S.  P.  The  seopod  night  is  at  Ehnira,  sifter  13  m.  progreas  in  the  raio,  «nd  the 
thiid  at  Sacramento,  30  m.,  whereof  6  m.  had  to  be  walked,  '  bump,  bump,  bump,'  on  the  ties  ol 
the  r.  r.'  trestle,  because  of  the  river's  overflow.  This  weary  task  takes  4  h.,  and  when  a  traiD 
comes  along,  I  squat  on  the  end  of  a  projecting  cross-beam,  and  let  the  bicycle  hang  over.  An> 
other  high  trestle-bridge  has  to  be  crossed  3^  m.  e,  of  S.  (wlwnce  a  fine  view  of  the  snow-ca^iped 
Sierras),  and  then  I  enjoy  a  10  m.  ride  through  a  park-like  sheep-ranch  of  60,000  acres,  but 
have  to  pay  for  it  by  tramping  acroes-loU  through  numberless  gates  and  small  ranches  to  reach 
the  main  road  again.  Rocklin  (1x3)  is  fairly  in  the  foot-hill  country,  many  of  whose  roads  are 
of  an  excellent  hard  and  stony  surface,  proof  against  the  winter  rains.  Newcastle  (laa)  is  a  sta- 
tion near  the  old-time  mining  camps  of  Ophir  and  Gold-hill ;  then  come  Auburn  (137),  Clipper 
Gap  (133),  Colfax  (145),  Gold  Run  (155),  Dutch  Flat  (157),  and  Blue  Cafion  (169),  where  I  eo- 
tered  the  gloomy  but  friendly  shelter  of  the  great  protecting  sheds,  which  extend  with  but  few 
breaks  for  nearly  40  m.  Winding  around  the  mountain-sides,  their  roofs  are  buih  so  slanting 
that  the  mighty  avalanche  of  rock  and  snow  that  comes  thundering  down  from  above  glides 
harmlessly  over  into  the  chasm  beyond.  The  sutions,  section-houses  and  water-tanks  are  all 
under  these  huge  sheds ;  and,  when  I  emeige  at  the  other  end  I  shall  be  over  the  summit  and 
well  down  the  eastern  slope  of  the  mountains,  within  a  few  m.  of  Truckee  (a  to).  As  I  enter  the 
sheds,  gaunt  winter  rules  supreme,  and  the  only  vegetation  is  the  hardy  pine,  half-buried  in  the 
snow ;  though  but  four  days  have  gone  since  I  was  in  the  semi-tropical  Sacramento  valley— 
which  is  ridable  in  dry  weather  for  150  m.  Beyond  Rocklin,  I  had  '  footed  it '  for  4  m.  of  eii- 
cellent  surface,  owing  to  a  header  which  temporarily  disabled  the  bicycle ;  but  from  Newcasdc 
onwards  no  riding  was  possible  in  the  wagon  roads,  on  account  of  the  stickiness  of  the  red  day, 
and  I  kept  to  the  railway  track,  where  I  occasionally  found  ridable  side-paths.  I  sleep  one  night 
at  Summit  (196),  in  the  snow-sheds,  7017  ft.  above  the  sea  level,  and  the  next  at  Verdi  (334),  in 
Nevada,  4  m.  out  of  California.    The  two  States  have  neither  scenery  nor  climate  in  common. 

"  '  Over  the  DeserU  of  Nevada '  is  the  title  of  my  second  Outing  article.  After  leaving  the 
sheds,  I  had  followed  the  rapid  Truckee  river  down  the  slope  of  the  Sierras,  through  its  cafion, 
without  finding  much  good  road  till  I  crossed  into  the  '  Sage-brush  State  "  and  approadied 
Verdi ;  and  good  road  contmued  when  I  started  thence,  on  May  Day  morning,  still  foUowiag 
the  Truckee,  so  that  I  roll  into  Reno  (345)  at  10.30  o'clock.  I  am  told  that,  in  '8a,  F.  T.  MeiriD 
and  a  companion  had  pushed  their  bicycles  to  this  point,^ollowing  the  wagon  road  tmx  the 
mounUms,  as  their  tour  was  made  in  summer  when  progress  b  possible  outside  the  ■huwbIm<1i 
The  mountains  containing  the  Comstock  lodes  are  in  plain  sight  of  Reno,  which  is  the  point 
from  which  those  famous  mining  camps  used  to  be  reached,  and  my  route  leads  througfa  a  strip 
of  good  agricultural  land,  until  the  meadows  gradually  contract,  and  I  am  again  following  the 
Truckee  down  a  narrow  space  between  mountains.  I  sleep  thait  night  on  the  floor  of  a  ranch- 
man's shanty,  about  ao  m.  beyond  R.,  having  wheeled  |  the  distance,  by  short  stretches;  and« 
the  next  forenoon,  at  Wadsworth  (389),  I  bid  adieu  to  the  Truckee,  which  I  have  foHowed 
neariy  100  m.,  and  start  across  the  Forty  Mile  Desert  which  separates  it  from  the  Humboldt 
river.  Not  a  blade  of  grass  nor  drop  of  water  can  be  found  in  the  whole  distance,  and  tho«^ 
much  of  the  trail  is  quite  unfit  for  cycling,  there  are  occasional  alkali  flats,  whidi  I  wheel  swiftly 
across,  while  the  blazing  sun  casts  my  shadow  on  the  white  surface  with  startling  vividneaa. 
From  the  desert,  my  road  leads  up  the  valley  of  the  Humboldt  I  halt  during  Sunday,  May  4, 
at  Lovelocks ;  then  by  turns  ride  on  smooth  alkali  and  trundle  through  deep  sand,  past  Rye 
Patch  (373),  Humboldt  (385),  Mill  City  (396),  to  Winnemuoca  (434),  the  county  seat,  having 
xaoo  inhalMtants.  I  dimb  the  mountains  ao  m.  e.  of  here,  and  from  the  summit  even  the  slog- 
gish  Humboldt  looks  beautiftil.  Some  splendid  riding  on  the  alkali  is  had  before  readung  Stone 
House  (454),  where  I  secure  a  supper  but  am  denied  a  lodging;  and  as  the  intense  cold  ends  my 
slumbers  at  midnight  on  the  planks  of  an  open  shanty,  I  ride  and  walk  by  moonlight  tiQ  day- 
break at  Battle  Mountain  (474).  The  valley  broadens  into  a  plain  of  some  sise  as  m.  beyond 
here,  and  as  the  trail  ends  at  a  place  where  the  river  is  lass  than  100  ft  wide,  I  swim  it,-— using 
some  fence-posts  as  a  float  on  which  to  carry  my  dothes  and  the  bicyde.  Before  this,  in  trav- 
ersing the  low  alkali  bottom  through  which  flow  dosens  of  small  streams  to  the  Humboldt,  I  had 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         477 

often  jumped  them,  hf  uaiog  the  machine  for  a  vanlting-bar,  or  else  waded  acroes,  carrying  it  on 
my  shouUer.  Beyond  Beowawe  (507)»  I  foUow  the  river  throogh  Humboldt  cafton,  in  prefer- 
ence to  a  drcuitoua  route  over  the  mountains,  reach  Palisade  (sas)*  at  4  p.  m.  and  CaAm  (534) 
hte  in  the  evening.  Little  riding  is  possible  thnyigh  all  this  section,  and  in  order  to  do  the 
daily  40  m.  that  I  have  imposed  upon  myself,  I  often  start  at  daybreak.  Taking  dinner  next 
day  at  Elko  (557),  I  am  cheered  by  a  local  Solon,  who  gives  this  bright  summary  of  the  trilling 
geographical  obstacles  ahead  of  me :  '  There  is  only  a  small  rise  at  Sheimao,  and  another  still 
smaller  at  the  Alleghanies;  all  the  balance  is  down  hill  to  the  Atlantic  Of  course  you'll  have 
to  boat  it  across  the  Frog  pond.  Then  there's  Europe— mostly  level ;  so's  Asia,  except  the 
Himalaya»-«ad  you  can  soon  cross  'em.  Then  you're  all  hunky,  for  there's  no  mountains  to 
qwak  of  in  China.'  Passing  Halleck  (58a),  near  the  fort  of  that  name,  I  gradually  appraadi  the 
source  of  the  Humboldt,  which  has  flooded  the  valley  hereabouts,  and  at  Wells  (615),  I  take 
leave  of  it  for  good.    My  last  night  in  Nevada  is  at  Tecoma  (677),  close  upon  the  border. 

"  *  Through  Utah,  over  the  Rockies  and  on  the  Great  Plains '  is  the  title  of  my  thin)  Outing 
artids.  The  route  now  leads  along  the  n.  boundary  of  the  Great  American  Desert,  where 
riding  is  occasionally  posmble  to  a  man  who  is  disgusted  with  walldi^,  and  the  dry  saline  air 
arouses  an  almost  unquenchable  thirst.  At  3  p.  u.  I  rdl  mto  the  small  Mormon  settlement  of 
Terrace  (711),  and  spend  tlM  night  at  Matlin  (731),  where  an  extensive  view  may  be  had  of  the 
desert, — a  plain  of  white  alkali,  stretching  beyond  the  limit  of  human  vision,  Uke  a  motionlett 
sea, — and  where  the  section-house  foreman  assures  me  that  a  cyder  could  skim  like  a  bird,  for 
many  miles,  on  the  smooth,  hard,  ^adt  flats.  A  few  m.  e.  of  M.,  the  road  leads  over  a  spur  of 
the  Red  Dome  range,  whence  I  had  my  first  view  of  the  Great  Sak  Lake,  in  whose  cold  watefs 
I  am  soon  taking  a  bath.  After  dinner  at  Kelton  (743X  I  foBow  the  lake  shore  to  the  salt-works 
near  Monument,  at  6  P.  m.,  and  continue  along  it  next  day  till  my  road  leads  over  the  n.  spur  of 
the  Promontory  mountains,  where  I  find  some  hard  gravel  that  offers  a  few  m.  of  the  best 
riding  I  have  had  in  Utah.  In  the  pass  of  another  spur  of  the  same  range,  10  m.  on,  I  have  a 
view  of  30  m.  <rf  mod-flats  stretching  e.  to  the  Monnon  settlements,  which  dot  the  strip  of  fertile 
land  between  Bear  river  and  the  base  of  the  mighty  Wahsatch  mountains.  The  flats  are  bor- 
dered on  the  s.  by  the  marshy  shores  of  the  lake,  and  on  the  n.  by  the  Blue  Creek  mountains; 
and  they  swarm  with  gnats  and  mosquitoes.  On  leaving  Promontory  (781),  I  expect  to  reach 
Corinne  (809)  for  the  night,  but  at  7  o'dock  I  accept  the  foreman's  invitation  to  stop  at  the  sec- 
tion-house of  Quarry,  and  so  it  is  10  next  day  when  I  cross  Bear  river  at  C ,  and  find  myself  on  the 
somewhat  superior  road  which  takes  me  to  Ogden  (834)  at  supper  time.  The  contrast  between 
the  dreary  deserts  I  have  been  travereing,  and  this  verdant  region  of  prosperous  Mormon  farms, 
with  orchards  in  full  bloom,  seems  magical.  Ogden,  with  8000  inhabitants,  is  the  only  large 
town  I  have  met  since  leaving  Reno  (which  has  about  f  as  many,  and  ranks  second  in  Nevada), 
and  I  halt  there  during  the  whole  of  Sunday,  May  18.  Then,  riding  and  walking  alternately, 
n  m.  e,  I  enter  Weber  caflon,  through  which  the  river,  the  r.  r.,  and  an  uncertain  wagon-traU 
make  their  way  throujch  the  Wahsatch  mountains  to  the  table4ands  of  Wyoming  Territory.  As 
the  river  is  flooded,  I  have  to  do  much  slow  trundling  on  the  r.  r.  track,  but  I  reach  Echo  (874) 
fcr  the  night    My  last  memory  of  the  caflbn  and  of  Utah  is  the  magnificent  Castle  Rock  (890). 

"  I  entered  Wyoming  at  Evanston  (gog),  late  in  the  afternoon  of  May  at,  and  followed  the 
trail  down  Yellow  creek  to  Hilliard  (923)  after  dark.  At  Piedmont  (938),  I  dedde  to  go  around 
by  way  of  Ft.  Bridger  and  strike  the  direct  trail  again  at  Carter  (963) ;  and  the  next  noon  finds 
me  there  in  bed,  after  experiendng  the  toughest  24  h.  of  my  entire  tour.  During  that  time  I 
had  nothing  to  eat ;  I  forded  no  less  than  nine  streams  of  ice-cold  water ;  I  spent  the  night  in 
an  abandoned  freight-wagon,  on  a  rain-soaked  adobe  phiin ;  and  I  then  had  to  carry  the  bicyde 
across  6  m.  of  deep,  sticky  day,  where  trundling  was  quite  hnpossible.  On  the  a4th,  however, 
I  am  able  to  push  ^^  ra.  through  the  Bad  Lands,  amid  buttes  of  mingled  clay  and  rode,  for  dm- 
ner  at  Granger  (990) ;  and  next  day  I  pass  the  castellated  rocks  at  Green  River  (loao),  and  readi 
Rock  Springs  (1036)  for  the  night.  Splendid  alkali  flats  abound  e.  of  here  and  I  bowl  aoofli 
them  at  a  livdy  pace,  until  my  route  turns  up  Bitter  Creek  (1081),  where  the  surface  is  jnst  th^ 
ravens.    Crossing  the  Red  Desert  (1104),  ■©  called  from  its  surface  of  fire-mi  day,  on  wh 


478  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

nothing  will  grow,  I  stand  on  the  morning  of  the  28th,  at  10  o'clock,  on  the  '  continental  divide ' 
(i^iag),  where,  as  I  face  n.,  all  Waters  on  my  r.  flow  e.  to  the  Atlantic,  and  all  on  my  1.  flow  w.  to 
the  Pacific.  The  spot  is  a  bfoad,  low  pass  through  the  Rockies,  more  plain  than  mountain, 
from  which  a  commanding  view  of  many  mountain  chains  may  he  had.  Down-grade  is  then 
the  rule  to  Rawlins  (1157),  where  I  spend  two  nights  and  a  day.  Hardly  half  of  this  descent  is 
ridahle ;  hut  on  the  morning  of  the  30th  I  wheel  along  a  very  good  road  16  m.  to  breakfast  at 
Ft.  Steele  (1172),  on  the  w.  bank  of  the  North  Platte  river.  Just  before  getting  to  it,  I  ride 
through  the  first  prairie-d(^  town  on  my  route,  though  I  meet  plenty  of  others  during  the  next 
300  m.  Elk  mountain,  a  famous  landmark,  now  looms  up,  10  m.  s.,  and,  as  I  penetrate  the 
Laramie  plains,  the  persistent  sage-brush,  which  has  hovered  about  my  trail  for  nearly  1000  m* 
grows  beautifully  less,  and  the  short,  nutritious  bufEalo  grass  is  creeping  everywhere.  I  stay 
over  night  at  Carbon  (121  z)  and,  after  passing  through  the  valley  of  Medicine  Bow  (1220),  find 
some  good  riding  on  the  hard  gravel  surface  of  the  high<and-dry  plains.  These  are  divided  into 
shallow  basins  by  rocky  ridges,  and  from  the  brow  of  one  of  them  I  have  an  extensive  view  of 
many  mountain  ranges, — ^the  eastern  one  being  the  Blade  Hills,  the  last  chain  of  the  Rodcies, 
and  the- only  barrier  that  separates  me  from  the  broad  prairies  rolling  towards  the  Missouri. 
After  dinner  at  Rock  Creek  (1242),  I  get  caught  in  a  storm  of  rain  and  hail,  but  I  spend  the 
night  at  Lookout  (1260),  and  by  taking  an  early  start  reach  Laramie  (1294)  for  dinner.  I  stop 
there  for  the  rest  of  Sunday  and  also  Monday,  with  my  acquaintances,  who  comprise  the  first 
wheelmen  I  have  seen  since  my  tour  began ;  and  on  June  3  I  scale  the  final  range  and  descend 
to  Cheyenne  (1351), — the  last  12  m.  having  such  a  smooth  granite  surface  that  my  use  of  the 
brake  heats  the  spoon  and  scorches  the  red  rubber  tire  to  blackness.  The  night  of  the  4th  is 
spent  at  Pine  Bluffs  (1394),  which  is  within  a  few  miles  of  the  Nebraska  border ;  and  long  before 
reaching  it  the  Rockies  have  receded  from  sight  and  left  me  alone  on  the  boundless  prairie.  In 
fording  Pole  creek,  holding  bicyde  and  dothes  above  my  head,  I  tumble  in  the  water  and  wet 
everything ;  but  I  continue  along  the  creek  next  day,  and  pass  the  night  of  the  5th  at  Potter 
(1434).  The  road  improves  as  I  approadi  Sidney  (1453),  and  I  sweep  into  town  at  a  good 
pace, — ^taking  a  spin  to  the  neighboring  fort  while  I  wait  for  dinner.  I  am  now  approadiingthc 
western  border  of  the  farming  country,  and  spend  the  night  at  Lodge  Pole  (1471) ;  but  to- 
morrow I  shall  sleep  beside  the  watera  of  the  Platte. 

"  '  From  the  Plains  to  the  Atlantic '  is  a  title  which  shows  the  wide  sweep  of  my  fourth 
Outing  autide,  for  it  oovera  much  more  than  half  of  the  tour.  Trundling  throi^h  the  muddy 
bottoms  of  the  South  Platte,  I  pass  Ogallala  (1525),  and,  after  a  night  in  a  homesteader's  di:^> 
out,  take  dinner  at  North  Platte  (1576),  cross  a  substantial  wagon-bridge  just  below  where  the 
n.  and  s.  branches  join  and  proceed  eastward  as  '  the  Platte  "  simply,  and  so  I  reach  Brady 
Island  (1599)  for  the  night.  Stretdies  of  sand  sdtemate  with  ridable  roads  all  down  the  Platte, 
and  I  remember  Willow  Island  (1617)  as  the  place  wdiere  a  rattlesnake  fastened  his  deadly  fangs 
harmlessly  in  my  thidc  canvas  leggings.  I  consider  it  a  lucky  day  that  does  not  add  to  my  long 
and  eventful  list  of  headera ;  but  I  am  surprised  when  a  squall  blows  me  and  the  bicyde  dear 
oyer, — though  Nebraska  is  a  very  windy  country,  where  a  calm  day  seems  quite  the  exception. 
More  ridable  roads  are  met  e.  of  Plum  Creek  (1636),  but  they  are  still  nothing  more  than  trails 
across  the  prairie,  until  at  Kearney  Junction  (1672)  they  become  excellent.  I  pass  Grand  laland 
(1713)  and  Central  City  (1735),  and  on  June  15  ride  from  Duncan  (1768)  to  North  Bend  (1805). 
The  Platte  turns  s.  at  Fremont  (1820),  to  join  the  Missouri  at  Plattsmouth,  and  I  leave  it,  to 
follow  the  '  old  military  nmd  * — a  continuous  mud-hole — ^through  the  Elkhom  valley  to  Omaha 
(1866).  Resting  here  a  day,  I  obtain  a  permit  to  trundle  my  wheel  along  the  r.  r.  bridge  to 
Council  Blufis;  and  nine  days  after  thus  crossing  the  Missouri  into  Iowa,  I  wheel  along  the 
splendid  government  bridge  from  Davenport  to  Rock  Island  (2185),  and  thus  cross  the  Missis- 
sippi into  Illinois,  rejoidng  that  }  of  my  tour  is  completed.  I  celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July  by 
rolling  into  Chicago  (2348),  for  a  week's  rest;  and  ray  fortnight's  route  thither  may  be  thus 
shown,— the  last  town  mentioned  with  each  date  being  my  stopping-place  for  the  night ;  and  the 
numerals  signifying  the  distances  by  rail  from  Omaha :  June  19,  Coundl  Bluffs  to  Carson 
hilly;  aoth,  good  to  Griswold ;  aist,  very  goodandlcvd  to  Casey,  90;  aad,  similar  to  Stusirt, 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         4j^ 

iai,iiHl  Ewilnin.  in;  ijd,  Mr  IB  Do  Uanea,  141,  ud  Altoou,  i;];  I41h,  tunbk  to 
CoUax,  16s,  Newton,  T77,  and  Kcllocg,  186:  ijlh,  variable  IcGrinKll,  197,  Bmoklyii,  111, 
■Dd  Vktor,  no;  aMh,  HtidT  to  S.  Aimma,  138,  Homalcad,  143,  ud  Tiffin,  ijj ;  trb.  iiir 
Id  [om  City,  163,  Hiid)to  Moacow,  lU,  1CT7  good  <or  lul  »ni.  u  DavEnpiirl,  317,  Rock 
litand,  319;  19th,  HWK  macadam,  aome  land,  fair  ivnage,  Mohne,  jii,  GencKo,  341, 
AlkintOD,  3481  jolh,  IcwL  and  improving,  Sheffield,  363,  Wyanct,  371,  Princeton,  37R, 
LamoiUe;  July  i,  aeetians  si  ipleDdid  gnni,  Mendoa,  jS^,  Bamjlle,  SaiHlirich,  416, 
Piano,  fiD,  VoriiTi)le :  id,  fair,  Oiwego,  Nipenille,  4;}  1  3d,  Lfoiia.  471  {  flh,  rather  poor 
and  t*om  maoidam  to  Chica^,  4Ba.  '  Variable'  ia  the  word todeacribe  the  lowaroadi,  whnac 
mrface  greatly  depmda  upon  the  weather.  When  wet,  (he  bmnen'  henry  teama  wear  it  mio 
niti,  whkh  nmain  rough  until  ground  dowD  by  rraffic  Tbe  aoil  ia  a  blade  loan  or  clay,  very 
Hkky  after  rain.  Autumn  ia  hence  a  better  lidlDg  Kaaiin  IhaB^ng;  and  I  mayiay  the  tame 
[or  Netiraika  and  Wyoming,  where  I  encountered  Ihe  dampest  May  en  reeeid.  The  but  aj  ni. 
to  Omaha,  through  the  Elk  river  boltom,  it  aomewhal  foiling,  and  offered  a  Eaitly  good  lurtace, 
intpite  of  (he  muddy  'maimy  road."  For  75  m.  e.  of  O.,  the  prairie  roUalike  a  heavy  Allandc 
iweU,  and  dnring  a  day's  Journey  I  paued  through  a  drven  akcniate  Btietche*  of  muddy  and 
dusty  rend;  for,  like  a  huge  watering-pot  do  the  rain-clouds  paat  to  aad  fro  orer  this  great  gar- 
den of  the  Weit,  which  is  practically  one  coolinuoui  fertile  farm  from  the  Uisaooii  lo  the 
Miiniappi.  My  roi»e  alter  crosring  iMi  led  (or  tooie  m.  iqi  Ihe  river  bc«Iooi,  whoaeroada 
o^r  irmch  land ;  but  this  diuppeais  near  Rock  river,  where  an  ejretllcnt  aurface  ia  lonnd 
beneath  the  oak  grovea  lining  that  beaulifui  Kream,  and  iheir  shade  it  apedally  gnitful  dnce 
the  thermometer  ahowt  lOo*  m  (he  ann.  In  Burean  comly.  tbe  gravel  roadt  are  very  fine. 
"Good  riding  for  13  m,  from  Chicago,  and  then  longh  tnmdlii^  through  deep  tand  for  3 
m..'land  me  in  Indiana,  which,  (or  the  fini  j;  m.  ■ronnd  the  a,  tbora  oi  Lake  Michigan,  it 
limply  tand.  This  ia  packed  firmer  on  the  water's  edge,  and,  at  the  roads  can  hardly  be  traveraed 
Bl  all,  I  try  irundling  there  for  »  m.,  and  then  shoulder  the  bicycle,  and  scale  (ha  tand- 

hillt  and  hickcey  thickets,  reach  Miller's  Station  for  (he  nigh(.  At  Cheatertoo,  ;  m.  on,  the  aur- 
face improvet,  but  there  is  tand  eiHwgh  to  break  the  foree  of  headerv,  which  1  still  manage  tre- 
qnenlly  to  take,  in  tpte  of  my  icng  experience-  At  Lapone,  tft  m,  from  C-,  the  riding  it  good 
lor  tone  distance,  bul  I  traverse  scTcral  m,  of  craxivoy  road,  through  hnddeherry  twampa,  be- 
fore readiing  brrakfasl  a(  Oum*s  Pdnt  {after  skepii^c  under  a  wheat-ehock),  whence  splendid 
gravel  nxidt  lead  (o  South  Bend  (1?  m,  from  L.),  and  on  (hrough  Mishawaka  {3  m.),  aheroating 
with  nndy  nreldies,  to  Go>hm(]i  m.),  a  pretty  town  on  the  Elkhart  river.  It  it  10  a.  h.  of  \ 
July  (y,  when  I  bowl  aeron  (he  boundary  line  hi(o  Ohio,  whoae  first  town  b  EdJt[ton  (39  m, 
from  GO.  whence  I  follaw  the  courae  of  the  Merchaoti'  ft  Bankert'  telegraph,  ihroogh  deep 
dust  caused  by  drodghr,  to  Napoleon,  and  (hen  go  tip  (he  Maumee  river ,^rn(  trying  (he  canal 
tow-path,  and  (hen  exchaitging  it  for  the  very  fair  w^on  road.  At  Perrytburg  (where  I  can  aee 
the  unoke  of  Toledo)  I  strike  the  well-known  '  Maumee  pike.'— 40  m.  of  atone  road,  almoit  a 
dead  level,  TIkw.  partof  it  it  kept  in  rather  poor  repair,  but  the  x6  m.  from  Fremont  10 
BelleTue  is  tpleikdid.  Patches  of  sand  are  found  after  leaving  this  e.  end  of  the  pike,  bul  there 
are  mmieTout  good  side-patht  at  far  at  Cleveland  (67  m.  from  B.),  where  I  spin  down  the  fa- 
motit  Eoelid  av..  (o  the  village  of  ihai  name  (10  rn.),  and  enoilnue  by  good  nr  fair  roadt  lo  Aih. 
tabula  fci  m.  from  E.).  and  b«  rather  hillv and tandv one*  (e  ConnaaiK (14 m), iiM beyond 
idden  w.  from  Bas(OD  (o  Ash- 
nll  only  add  that  beyoDd  Syn- 
r  between  the  r.  r.  tradct  from 
letts,  and  also  from  Palmer  to 


48o         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

It  was  9  o'clock  on  Monday  afternoon  when  I  greeted  the  Atlantic,  just  15  weeks  frnin  San 
Francisco.  I  made  no  all-day  halts  e.  of  Chicago,  and  my  average  for  the  34  days  thenoe  to 
Boston  (estimating  the  distance  at  1034  m. ;  it  is  1050  by  r.  r.)  was  43^  m.  The  14  days  when  I 
made  no  advance  at  all  were  April  37,  at  Clipper  Gap ;  May  4,  Lovelocks ;  11,  Deeth ;  18,  Og- 
den;  39,  Rawlins;  June  a,  Laxamie;  18,  Omaha;  and  July  5  to  11  inclusive,  at  Chicago.  My 
shorter  halts  for  a  half-day  or  more  would  increase  the  total  to  at  least  31  complete  days,  so  that 
my  actual  time  in  traveling  may  be  called  xa  weeks.  East  of  the  Mississippi,  I  had  average 
good  weather,  though  it  was  hot  and  showery  nearly  all  the  way  through  Iowa  and  Illinois.  In 
Wyoming,  it  was  the  wettest  season  on  record,  and  rain  fell  almost  every  day.  The  adobe  day 
of  that  Territory,  when  thus  soaked,  makes  the  most  terrible  mud  imaginable.  Next  to  the  S  m. 
of  this  which  I  waded  through,  May  33-33,  before  getting  to  Carter  station,  the  worst  surface  I 
encountered  was  on  the  day  I  left  Chicago,  and  plunged  into  the  swamps  and  sands  of  Indiana. 
Yet  some  of  the  gravel  roads  of  that  State  and  Illinois  gave  better  riding  than  I  usually  found  in 
N.  Y.  or  Mass. ;  though  I  nowhere  met  a  single  long  stretch  comparable  to  the  '  ridge  road ' 
that  ends  near  Buffalo.  On  this,  I  took  my  longest  day's  ride,  Giraird  to  Angola  (83  m.  by  r.  r.); 
and  the  ride  ranking  second  was  in  Nebraska  ending  at  Kearney  Juncti<Mi,  from  a  point  near 
Plum  Creek,  about  65  m.  away.  Of  the  whole  distance  traversed,  from  ocean  to  ocean,  I  suppose 
at  least  \  was  done  on  foot  The  diief  discomfort  of  the  experience  was  hunger,  as  my  a^ietite 
was  all  the  while  ravenous,  and  a  sufficiency  of  even  the  coarsest  food  was  often  unattainable." 
(Dividing  3416,  the  total  r.  r.  mileage  from  San  Francisco  to  Boston,  by  84,  as  representing  the 
full  days  of  touring,  gives  a  daily  average  of  40I  m.,  which  seems  a  very  high  one.  The  actual 
distance  was  much  greater,  probably  approaching  nearly  to  the  "  rough  guess  "  of  3700  m.) 

Stevens  left  Liverpool  on  Saturday,  May  3,  1885,  at  4  P.  M.,  and  was  escorted  by  local  rid- 
ers, through  several  showers,  to  Warrington ;  he  stopped  at  Stone  for  the  night  of  the  3d,  and 
rode  on  the  4th  through  Birmingham  to  Coventry  (60  m.),  in  spite  of  continuous  rain ;  reached 
Berichamsted,  his  native  place,  on  the  sth,  and  London  on  the  6th ;  whence  (after  a  three  days' 
halt,  to  attend  the  annual  tricycling  parade)  he  fared  to  Croydon,  on  the  9th,  and  through 
Br^hton  to  Newhaven,  on  the  toth, — ^finishing  thus  "  the  first  300  m.  he  ever  wheeled  withoot 
a  header."  Disembarking  at  Dieppe,  next  morning,  his  course  lay  through  the  Arques  valley 
to  Rouen  and  Elbeuf ;  thence,  on  the  lath,  to  Mantes,  on  the  Seine ;  and  on  the  13th  to  Paris, 
at  3  p.  M.,  where  he  rested  the  next  two  days.  On  the  i6th|  he  went  through  Fontenoy  and 
Provins  to  Sesanne,  where  "  a  heavy  rain  during  the  night  rather  improved  the  gravel  surface," 
so  that  on  the  X7th,  stauting  at  8.30  a.  m.  and  stopping  i  h.  for  dinner  at  Vitry  le  Francois  (65 
kil),  he  "  reached  Bar  le  Due  at  5  p.  m.,  a  distance  of  160  kilometera  (about  100  m.),  without 
any  undue  exertion.  The  forenoon's  road  was  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  stretches  imaginadile, 
most  of  the  surface  being  as  perfect  as  an  asphalt  botilevard,  and  the  contour  of  the  country 
somewhat  resembling  the  swelling  prairies  of  Iowa."  A  storm  of  rain  and  hail  enf(Htced  a  halt 
during  the  i8th,  at  the  village  of  Ttouville,  but  on  the  19th,  in  spite  of  bad  weather,  he  reached 
Nancy,  and  on  the  aoth  crossed  into  Germany  (Lorraine),  and  spent  the  night  at  Pfalzbuis.  Uia 
French  mileage  was  about  400,  representing  only  six  full  riding  days ;  for  he  "  found  the  Nofw 
mandy  roads  superior  even  to  the  English ;  those  e.  of  Paris  not  quite  so  good,  but  better 
than  the  roads  around  Boston.  Through  the  Arques  valley,  there  is  not  a  loose  stone  or  rat  or 
depression  anywhere ;  and  at  every  cross-roads  stands  an  iron  post,  giving  distances  in  kikmieten 
and  yards  to  several  of  the  nearest  towns;  while  small  stone  posts  along  the  roadside  mark  evciy 
too  yards.  The  German  roads  possess  the  single  merit  of  hardness,  but  generally  make  no 
pretense  to  smoothness ;  the  idea,  apparently,  being  to  keep  spreading  plenty  of  loose  flint- 
stones  on  the  surface,— -^o  that  the  wheelman  must  either  follow  the  wheel-marks  or  pick  kia  way 
along  the  edges.  This  is  especially  true  of  Bavaria.  I  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  the 
roads  through  Servia  rank  next  to  the  Frendi  and  English,  though,  as  they  are  mostly 
adamized,  my  experience  of  them  might  not  have  been  as  enjoyable  if  wet  weather  had 
vailed.  The  camel-paths  across  the  level  plains  of  Perua,  being  of  hard  gravel,  are  aiaply 
perfect  for  wheeling,  as  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  I  covered  the  last  aoo  m.  to  Teheran,  the  aq^ 
ital,  in  three  days ;  but  that  was  incomparably  the  best  stretch  e.  of  Constantinople,  and  I  had 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS,         481 

ntber  wheel  from  C.  to  London  and  back  again,  than  from  Ismidt  to  the  Persian  frontier.  In 
Asia  Mmor  and  Koordistan,  I  found  little  else  but  mountains,  and  they  were  the  ste^Mset  ones 
I  ever  climbed.  The  mule-paths  and  camel-trails  which  I  followed  there  for  nearly  looo  m. , 
over  a  succession  of  mountain  ranges  and  spurs,  were  immeasurably  more  difficult  than  any- 
thmg  experienced  in  the  Rockies.  Nevertheless,  all  through  Angora  (which  poverty-stricken 
province  boasts  450  m.  of  artificial  wagon-road,  thanks  to  the  energy  of  the  present  mayor  of  its 
capital,  Souleiraan  Efendi),  I  would  prefer  the  bicycle  to  a  horse." 

Constantinople  was  his  first  appointed  stopping  place,  on  account  of  the  heat  (July  a  to 
Aug.  la),  and  he  estimated  his  two  months'  mileage  thither  from  Liverpool  as  about  a7So,-^is 
longest  halt  having  been  at  Vienna,  for  the  first  three  days  of  summer.  His  itinerary  from  the 
Rhine  was  as  follows ;  ','  May  ao,  good  but  hilly  roads,  through  the  rain,  to  Saveme ; 
slippery  descent  into  the  Rhine  valley  at  Marlenheim ;  cross  the  river  at  Strasbui^g ;  level  and 
less  muddy  to  Oberldrch;  arst,  up  the  Rench  valley,  by  well-nigh  poiect  road  to  Petersthal ; 
then  miles  of  steep  trundling  through  the  Black  Forest,  till  I  cross  the  line  from  Baden  into 
Wiirtemburg,  at  the  summit,  and  have  a  smooth  and  gentle  descent  to  Freudenstadt ;  aad, 
rather  hilly  and  stony,  to  Rothenburg ;  ajd,  rain  and  mud,  through  Tabingen  to  Blaubeuren ; 
a4th,  down  the  Danube  to  Ulm,  where  I  cross  into  Bavaria,  and  reach  Augsburg  at  eariy  even- 
ii^,  having  covered  xao  kiL  since  10  o'clock,  spite  of  abundant  loose  stones;  asth,  Munich, 
where  I  halt  for  the  afternoon  and  next  day ;  a7th,  starting  after  a  night's  rain,. through  a  waste 
of  loose  flints  and  mud-filled  ruts,  I  take  my  first  European  header;  find  better  roads  along  the 
Inn  river  to  Alt  Getting ;  aSth,  at  Simpach,  cross  the  Inn  and  enter  Austria,  whose  upland 
roads  thence  to  the  valley  of  the  Damnbe  have  less  loose  flints  but  areaggravatingly  hilly ;  agth, 
Strenbusig ;  30th,  Neu  Longbach ;  3 tat,  at  noon,  Vienna.  June  4,  have  an  Austrian  escort  to 
PressbuiY*  where  cross  into  Hungary  at  noon,  and  find  a  fair  proportion  of  side-paths  to  Alten* 
burg,— dry  weather  having  made  the  highway  as  unridable  aw  a  plowed  field ;  5th,  down  the 
Damnbe,  through  the  level  wheat-fields  to  Nezmely ;  6th,  through  broiling  hot  weather,  by 
rather  smoother  but  hillier  roads,  to  Budapest,  where  I  aun  welcomed  by  the  C.  T.  C.  consal, 
L.  D.  Kostovitz,  who  introduced  the  first  bicycle  here,  on  his  return  from  England,  in  the  an* 
tnmn  of  '79,  though  there  sue  now  100  riders;  8th,  to  Duna  Pentele,  75  m.;  hot  and  dusty,  but 
superior  roads,  fringed  with  mulberry  trees,  insteaul  of  the  poplars,  which  were  the  crowning 
glory  of  the  French  landscape,  and  the  abundant  apple  and  pear  trees  which  shaded  the  wa^in 
Germamy ;  9th,  Szeksard ;  loth,  Duna  Szekeso,— where  I  halt  half  a  day,  as  it  is  the  home  of 
Svetozar  ^;ali,  who  is  my  companion  from  Budapest  to  Belgrade,  and  who  wheeled  in  '84  from 
Montpellier,  in  France,  through  Italy,  Styria  and  Croatia,  to  Budapest ;  nth,  EUzek,  the  capital 
of  Slavonia,  where  rain  stops  us  for  a  day,  and  causes  much  slow  trundhng  through  the  mud, 
on  the  13th,  to  Sarengrad ;  14th,  Peterwardein,  on  the  border  of  Hungary,  opposite  Neusatz ; 
15th,  over  the  Fruskagora  mountains  to  Batainitz ;  i6th,  early  in  the  forenoon  to  Belgrade,  the 
capital  of  Servia,  where  a  bicycle  club  of  30  forms  the  last  cycling  outpost  towards  the  Orient ; 
i8th,  Grotzka,  as  k.,  from  4  to  7.30  p.  m.;  19th,  Jagodina,  8  a.  m.  to  9  p.  m.,— 145  k.,  in  spite 
of  the  great  heat,  and  much  poor  surfaice  during  the  first  45  k.  to  Semendria,  where  I  left  the 
Danube  which  I  had  been  following  in  a  general  way  for  a  fortnight,  and  turned  due  s.  up  the 
smaller  Morava  valley;  aoth,  Nisch,  5.30  a.  m.,  to  6  p.  m.', — lao  k.  of  even  better  average  rid- 
ing than  the  day  before ;  aist,  over  the  Balkans  and  through  the  Nissiva  valley  to  Bela  Pa- 
lanka,  50  k.,  where  rain  holds  me  over  Sunday,  while  my  companion  from  Belgrade  (Douchani 
Popovitz, '  the  best  rider  in  Servia ')  hires  a  team  to  dn^  him  bade  through  the  mud  to  N.; . 
asd,  through  the  border  towns  of  Pirot  and  Zaribrod,  unto  Bulgaria,**-a  country  of  mountains 
and  i^atteauis,— to  Sofia,  its  capital j  5  a.  m.  to  4.30  p.  m.,  no  k.,  in  spite  of  mud,  hill  climbing 
and  rutty  roads ;  a4th,  helped  by  the  wind,  the  same  as  yesterday,  I  manage  to  ride,  along  the 
wont  road  yet  experienced  in  Europe,  to  Ichtiman,  in  Roumelia,  att  3  o'clock;  asth,  throu^ 
mud  and  rain,  over  .the  Kod)a  Balkans,  then  down  the  Mauitza  valley  by  decent  macadam  to  a 
mekarm  beyond  Taurtar  Baoau^jik ;  a6th,  a  ride  of  ah.,  on  good  surface,  for  breakfast  at  Phil- 
ippopofis,  the  capital ;  then  through  showers  and  mud  to  Cauheme ;  aTth,  fairly  smooth  but 
hilly  roads  to  Hermouli,  the  Ust  town  of  Roumelia,  aU  ti  a.  m.;  then  aigaanst  a  head-wind  to 
31 


482  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Mustapha  Fasha,  the  first  town  in  Turkey  proper,  and  tfarooi^  the  rain  towards  Adriaaople, 
until  at  zo  p.  it.,  I  reach  a  dry  qwt  and  crawl  under  some  prune  bushes  lor  the  night ;  aStb, 
iKeakfaat  in  A.,  on  roast  lamb,  the  first  well-cooked  bit  ol  meat  I  've  bad  since  leaTing  Niscb ; 
rain  has  fallen  during  every  one  of  these  8  days,  but  I  suppose  I  should  be  glad  of  it,  for  vnsul- 
feraUe  heat  is  the  only  other  alternative  in  the  Orient  at  this  season  ;  my  road  turns  from  the 
Maritxa  valley  at  A.,  and  leads  across  the  dreary  undulations  of  the  Adrianople  plains^-treeless 
and  hilly  grazing  lands,  travened  by  small  sloughs — to  £ski  Baba,  where  rain  holds  me  during 
Sunday,  29th,  and  where  my  fourth  Outing  chapter  is  finished.  My  course  for  these  last  two 
days  has  led  ak»g  an  ancient  and  abandoned  macadam,  which  gives  occasional  ridable  stvetdies, 
vdiere  the  traffic  has  worn  down  the  weeds  and  thistles,  and  which  ofiEers  arefuge  from  the  mud- 
sl«M;«;hs  of  the  adjacent  dirt  road,  though  nearly  every  bridge  and  qplvert  has  been  destroyed; 
and  during  the  next  two  days  of  rain  and  mud  I  complete  the  European  section  of  my  tour,  and 
roU  into  Cdnstantinople  on  the  morning  of  July  2,  for  a  six  weeks'  halt  '  We  fancy  the  rider 
kxjks  a  little  fatigued,'  says  the  Stambaui  Journal,  *  but  his  horse  is  in  good  condition.' 

"Crossing  the  Bosporus  into  Asia  Minor,  at  Ismidt,  Aug.  12, 1  reach  Angora  (aao  m.  by 
cydom.)at  6  p.  m.  of  the  i6th,  though  the  post  service  over  the  same  route  takes  9  days, and  the 
firat  half  of  it  is  simidy  mule-paths  over  mountains,— the  worst  I  ever  traversed ;  and  I  stop  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Henry  Binns,  an  Englishman  engaged  in  the  mohair  trade,  as  my  only  dianoe  of 
getting  a  day's  quiet,  i^punst  the  tremendous  mobs  of  curious  natives  who  besiege  every  kkam 
iHiere  I  pot  up,  from  the  moment  of  my  arrival  until  I  leave  the  town,  importuning  me  to  Uh  I 
Ms  /  ('  mount '.  mount  I  *),  and  offering  to  give  me  everything  conceivable,  except  what  I  most 
need — resL  Here  at  Angara,  it  is  pnxnised  that  if  the  crowds  will  give  me  a  day's  peace  for 
letter  writing,  I  will  ride  before  them  on  the  forenoon  of  departure,  along  a  straight  macadamized 
stretdi  of  600  yards,  outside  the  town ;  and  at  10.30  on  the  18th,  I  find  more  than  2000  people 
awaitii^  there  to  see  'the  crazy  Englishman  on  the  Devil's  carriage.'  The  body-guard  of  the 
governor,  Sirri  Piicha  (who  is  present,  with  most  of  the  government  officials  and  the  UiU  of  the 
city),  whip  bade  the  throngs  to  clear  the  course  for  me,  and  I  wheel  up  and  down  this  thrice,  be- 
fore starting  on  for  Sivas  (283  m.),  a  dty  of  50,000,  where  I  halt  a  day  and  have  an  interview 
with  the  pasha,  Halif  Ri^,  and  with  the  American  missionary.  Rev.  A.  W.  Hubbard.  Be- 
tween Aug.  27  and  Sept.  3, 1  traverse  the  next  308  m.  to  Erzeroum,  a  daily  average  of  40  m., 
in  ^lite  of  brif^;idess  streams  and  precipitous  mountain-trails,  for  in  the  valleys  I  often  find 
stretdies  of  road  that  would  be  creditable  to  a  European  country.  Leaving  £.  on  the  7th,  I 
pass  into  Persia  at  a  point  beyond  Rhoi,  and  reach  Tabreez  (389  m.)  on  the  iSth,  doing  the  last 
40  m.  on  macadam  in  half  a  day.  This  is  a  part  of  the  great  caravan  route,  and  though  there 
are  no  wheeled  vehides  at  all  in  Persia,  the  country  is  less  mountainous  than  Asia  Minor,  and 
the  camel-tnuls  allow  move  riding  than  I  expected.  Tabreez  is  the  site  of  andent  Tarsus, 
and  on  the  way  hither  I  pass  dose  to  the  foot  of  Mt.  Ararat,  whose  top  is  covered  with  snow;  I 
halt  in  T.  two  days,  as  there  are  several  English-speaking  residents  with  whom  I  can  talk ;  and 
I  find  Europeans  in  duuge  of  two  telegraph  sUtions  whidi  I  encounter  on  the  way  to  Teheran 
(376  m.\  where  I  finish  my  touring  for  18S5  at  noon  of  Sept.  30.  It  seems  a  pity  to  be  resting 
in  October,  the  best  month  of  the  twelve  for  traveling  in  Central  Asia,  but  as  I  could  get  no 
farther  e.  than  Herat  this  season,  and  might  be  overtaUcen  by  bad  weather  on  the  way,  it  is 
wisest  to  spend  the  winter  here  at  the  capital,  where  I  can  learn  something  of  the  roads  and 
customs  and  languages  of  the  dangerous  countries  to  be  travened  in  '86  (for,  though  I  am  well 
past  the  half-way  stage  of  my  roond-the-worid  route,  the  real  difficulties  of  it  are  still  ahead),  and 
write  my  £>m/m^  articles  in  comfort  Between  Bei  Bazaar,  where  my  cydometer-pitt  broke,  and 
Sivas,  where  I  had  it  repaired  again,  the  measurement  of  300  m.  is  by  Tuikish  post-houra ;  all 
the  rest  of  the  way  it  is  by  cydometer,  and  the  total  from  Constantinople  to  Teheran  is  1576  aa. 
As  I  made  no  advance  at  all  on  7  days  of  the  50,  this  shows  an  average  daily  progress  through 
Asia  of  almost  37  m.,'-^thout  allowing  for  the  shorter  halts.  During  the  two  months  whidi  I 
spent  in  crosnng  Europe,  I  carried  no  cydometer,  but  I  compute  the  distance  as  2750  m. ;  and 
as  my  all-day  hadts  amounted  to  a  fortnight,  the  48  days  when  I  did  some  riding  show  an  aver- 
1^  advance  of  57I  m.    There  were  thus  9s  riding  days  in  the  five  months'  joomey  from  Liver- 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS,         483 

pool  to  Teheran  (4336  in.)»  showing  an  average  of  more  than  47^  m.  a  day.  The  bicycle,  like 
myself,  hau  had  several  narrow  escapes,  but  is  without  a  serious  flaw  to  tell  the  story  of  what  it 
has  undergone,  except  that  the  rear  tire  is  worn  quite  down  to  the  rim.  I  have  n't  had  occasion 
to  so  much  as  tighten  a  spoke ;  and  as  I  have  n't  had  time  to  polish  the  nickel  plate,  it  naturally 
presents  a  slightly  travel*stained  appearance.  This  50  in.  wheel,  it  is  safe  to  say,  has  created 
more  genuine  interest,  from  Constantinople  to  Teheran,  than  anythbg  that  ever  went  over  the 
same  route.  Within  a  week  after  my  arrival,  even  the  Shah  himself  invited  me  to  gratify  his 
curiosity  by  displaying  to  him  the  capacities  of  the  mechanism ;  and  on  the  ftth  Oct.  (as  de- 
tailed in  Jan.  OtUmg)  I  wheeled  in  the  presence  of  that  monarch,  along  the  ^\  m.  of  macadam 
vrfiich  connects  the  dty  with  the  royal  palace  and  gardens  at  Doshan  Tepe.  My  earlier  expert, 
enoea  in  Koordistan  and  Persia  have  been  strange  and  varied  almost  beyond  belief,  and  my  de- 
scriptions of  them  cannot  fail  to  be  far  more  novel  and  entertaining  than  anything  I  ever  wrote 
about  the  tgnrs  across  America  and  Europe."  (Illustrated  articles  about  Teheran,  by  S.  G.  W 
Benjamin,  late  U.  S.  Minister  to  Persia,  appear  in  the  current  Ctiimy  and  Harper's,  Jan.,  »86.) 

The  foregoing  summary  of  Stevens's  story  has  been  compiled  by  me,  from  several  sources, 
at  a  cost  of  eight  days'  steady  work  (56  h.) ;  and  I  have  gladly  given  to  it  this  great  amount  of 
time  and  spacer-just  when  both  are  very  precious  to  me — not  only  because  I  think  his  advent- 
nre  the  most  remarkable  and  interesting  exploit  ever  accomplished  by  a  bicycle,  or  ever  13cely 
to  be  accomplished,  but  because  it  appeals  to  roe  personally,  as  having  a  sort  of  kinship  with 
my  own  desperate  struggle  to  push  this  book  around  the  world.  Stevens  was  bom  the  day  be- 
fme  Christmas,  the  same  as  myself,  though  eight  yeare  later ;  he  learned  bicycling  at  the  close 
6t  '83,  as  the  first  step  in  his  scheme,  just  when  I  was  formulating  the  first  prospectus  of  mine ; 
he  made  the  "  impossible  "  passage  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Mississippi  during  the  same  eariy 
months  of  '84  while  I  was  capturing  the  "  impossible  "  looo  subscribers  that  I  called  for  as  a 
preliminary  guarantee  of  good-faith,— both  of  us  thereby  simultaneously  winning  from  the  cyding 
world  that  sort  of  recognition  which  is  always  given  to  men  whose  acts  show  they  mean  what 
they  say;  he  completed  the  second  stage  of  his  journey,  by  entering  Constantinople,  at  the 
middle  of  '85  (which  few  people  seriously  expected  htm  to  do),  on  almost  the  identical  day 
when  I  registered  my  long-fought-for  3000th  subscription  (which  all  well-informed  observers  had 
hssisted  wa3  unattainable) ;  he  reached  his  winter's  resting  place,  at  the  capital  of  Persia,  just 
when  I  was  compelled  to  give  my  overworked  right  arm  a  similar  long  rest,  by  learning  to  push 
the  pen  with  my  left ;  and  now,  at  the  opening  of  '86,  he  realizes,  as  clearly  as  I  do,  that  this 
third  and  decisive  year  is  to  be  the  most  difficult  of  any,  and  that  the  obstacles  overcome  are 
almost  insignificant  in  comparison  to  the  barriers  still  separating  us  from  our  respective  goals  of 
success.  Indeed,  it  would  hardly  be  an  abuse  of  words  to  carry  the  comparison  even  further, 
and  say  that  I  have  remotely  and  imperceptibly  and  unwillingly  dene  something  similar  to  that 
which  he  has  done  directly  and  openly  and  boldly  :  staked  life  itself  on  the  ability  to  "  get  there." 

To  a  man  like  me,  who  has  always  accounted  among  the  necessities  of  existence  a  fair 
amount  of  out-door  exercise,  and  the  companionship  of  his  friends,  a  long  continued  stretch  of 
•*  solitary  confinement  at  hard  labor "  bears  a  suggestion  of  deadliness  about  it,  even  when 
•elf-imposed ;  and,  though  I  claim  no  credit  for  thus  obeying  that  apparently  inevitable  law  of 
the  universe,  which  decrees  that  nothing  important  shall  be  accomplished  here  except  by  one 
who  is  willing  to  "  sail  as  closely  as  possible  to  the  wind  "  of  his  probable  strength  and  vitality, 
-4n  other  words,  to  push  himself  as  near  the  brink  of  actual  suicide  as  he  believes  can  be  done 
without  tumbling  over  it,— I  hope  the  comparison,  which  I  point  by  alluding  to  that  law,  may  at 
least  help  to  dear  Stevens,  in  the  minds  of  some,  from  any  appearance  of  being  either  reckless 
or  focrihardy.  He  is  as  much  of  a  man-of-business  as  I  am,  and  he  has  the  same  motive  and 
inspiralioo  that  I  have  for  accomplishing  the  same  result,  though  his  "  environment "  enforces 
the  use  of  methods  which  are  much  more  spectacular  and  interesting — because  more  dangerous 
>-than  my  own.  We  both  believe  that  the  most  amusing  place  to  enjoy  a  view  of  "  life "  is 
from  the  top  of  a  bicycle,  and  we  are  both  willing  to  make  the  needed  sacrifices  to  earn  enough 
money  for  indulging  in  that  amusement.  It  is  proper  that  he  should  have  his  pay  ensured  him 
in  advance,  because  of  the  vastly  greater  peril  that  he  undergoes ;  but  I  insist  that  such  insur- 


484  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ance  does  not  make  his  motive  a  whit  more  "  mercenary  "  than  my  own.  If  any  sopercUioua 
persons  are  inclined  to  sneer  at  Stevens  because  his  round-the-world  bicycling  is  "  an  advertise- 
ment/*  I  hope  to  be  complimented  by  having  them  extend  the  sneer  to  cover  roe  and  my  round- 
the-world  boolc  This  was  designed  simply  as  "  an  advertisement," — a  more  elaborate  and 
painstaking  advertisement  of  the  power  and  permanence  of  cycling  than  any  man's  pen  bad 
previously  attempted,— and  if  (instead  of  wearily  drumming  up  "  3000  subscribers  '*)  I  could 
have  persuaded  a  single  generous  patron  of  the  sport  to  have  ensured  my  whole  payment  in 
advance,  I  should  have  thought  myself  much  luckier  than  now,  when  the  question  of  my  re- 
ceiving an  adequate  reward  for  two  years'  work  actually  rendered  is  a  question  ol  my  still  find- 
ing 30,000  individual  patrons  disposed  to  contribute  their  mites  towards  that  result. 

The  insularity  and  littleness  of  the  average  British  business-man's  mind  were  never  more 
perfectly  shown  than  in  the  inability  of  "  the  trade."  of  England  to  grasp  the  idea  that  the 
success  of  the  Stevens  scheme  would  be  "  an  advertisement "  for  each  and  every  oiye  of  them. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  "  booming  "  it  to  the  utmost,  through  the  press,  for  their  own  buainesa 
advantage,  and  getting  some  share  of  the  credit  as  its  ostensible  su^kporters,  they  held  aloof 
from  it,  and  as  far  as  possible  ignored  it,  as  if  it  were  a  dangerous  Yankee  trick  for  discrediting 
the  manufactures  of  England.  I  was  glad  to  find,  at  our  first  interview,  that  Stevens  himself 
had  none  of  this  narrowness  of  vision,  but  heartily  accepted  my  own  theory  as  to  the  essential 
'*  solidarity  "  (m  distinction  from  rivalry)  of  our  two  schemes  for  the  manufacture  and  sale  of 
cyding  literature.  "  The  success  of  one  must  help  rather  than  hinder  the  success  of  the  other," 
I  said  to  him  then  and  still  believe  ;  and  my  strong  sympathy  for  the  man  himself  may  perhaps 
render  the  story  of  his  Oriental  adventures  more  interesting  to  roe  than  to  those  who  never  met 
him,  or  who  have  less  enthusiasm  than  I  for  seeing  the  world  a-wheelback ;  but  I  do  not  think  I 
am  controlled  by  any  selfish  or  personal  considerations  when  I  urge  every  one  of  my  readers  to 
read  his  .Outing  sketches,  and  in  due  time  to  buy  the  book  which  is  to  be  built  from  them. 
Such  slight  hints  as  have  already  been  printed  about  the  "  wild  times  "  he  has  had  in  penetrat- 
ing Asia,  are  enough  to  stir  the  blood  of  the  most  sluggish  with  a  keen  desire  to  learn  the  full 
details  of  them ;  and  if  any  cyclers  exist  who  regard  his  story  with  indifference,  I  can  only  say, 
as  one  of  my  earliest  subscribers  said  of  those  who  might  fail  to  pledge  me  their  support  on  the 
instant  of  reading  the  first  prospectus  of  this  book :  *'  Their  bicycles  ought  to  be  taken  right 
away  from  them  1  "  

Second  only  to  Stevens,  in  respect  to  the  length  of  American  roadway  explored  in  a  angle 
season,  stands  Hugh  J.  High  (b.  April  36, 1858),  who  in  '85  wheeled  from  Pottstown,  Pa.,  May 
4,  continuously  to  Middleton,  la.,  June  5  ;  and  then,  after  a  three  months'  stay  in  Nebraska, 
wheeled  home  again,  by  a  different  route,  Aug.  27  to  Oct.  to.  The  length  of  his  westward 
trail  was  loci  m.,  whereof  174  m.  had  to  be  walked,  and  his  riding  time  was  193^  h.;  eastward 
trail,  1664  m.,  227  m.  walked,  riding  time  304  h.  Combining  the  two,  the  corresponding  figures 
are  2665,  401,  497^;  and  as  he  toured  343  m.  to  different  points  in  Nebraska,  his  total  mileage 
for  the  five  months  was  300S.  .  By  occupation  he  is  a  "  teadier  of  brass  and  reed  bands  and 
orchestras,  and  leader  of  the  orchestra  at  Pottstown  Opera  House,"  where  he  has  lived  since 
'8a,  when  he  finished  2}  years  of  service  as  musician  in  the  U.  S.  Cavalry  Band  at  Ft.  Jeffer- 
son, Mo.  He  considers  this  army  training  "  as  good  a  school  as  we  have  in  this  country  for 
the  learning  of  such  music," — his  previous  acquisitions  of  that  sort  having  been  gained  under 
diffictilties,  during  the  leisure  left  from  working  10  h.  a  day  in  the  nail-raill  at  Birdshaw,  9  m.  w. 
of  P., — for  the  death  of  his  father  forced  him  to  leave  school  at  the  age  of  14  and  earn  his  own 
support.  Proximity  to  the  bicydes  of  his  nephew  and  brother  led  him  to  become  a  rider,  tH 
the  opening  of  '83,  and  he  took  short  rides  of  8  to  la  m.,  almost  daily  during  that  season,  spite 
of  abundant  tumbles.  The  Pottstown  B.  C,  of  13  members,  was  formed  Aug.  x,  '84,  and 
elected  him  captain.  On  the  asth,  he  sold  his  Standard  Columbia  and  bought  the  Export 
which  has  served  him  since.  With  it  he  got  a  McDonnell  cydometer,  which  during  the  next 
9  weeks  registered  533  m.  Then,  Nov.  8  to  25,  in  company  with  A.  M.  Sheffey  and  J.  Gw 
High,  he  took  a  450  m.  tour  to  Washington  and  back ;  and  his  enjoyment  of  this  led  him  to 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS,         485 

plan  a  longer  one  for  the  spring  of  '8s.  Meanwhile  he  added  a88  m.  to  his  record,  and  decided 
to  make  Seward,  Neb.,  his  objefCtive  point,  as  he  "  wished  to  visit  a  friend  there,  and  also  see  the 
intermediate  country,^^8pecialIy  the  mountains  of  Western  Pennsylvania.  My  outfit  com- 
prised corduroy  breeches,  having  the  seat  and  front  faced  with  deer-skin,  sewed  with  string  in 
doable  seams,  and  they  were  in  good  condition  at  the  end  of  the  trip,  though  my  shoes  were 
full  of  holes  then.  These  were  low-cut,  and  I  started  with  rubber  soles,  but  soon  tore  them 
off.  My  stockings  lasted  as  iax  as  St.  Louis  (1669  m.),  where  I  bought  a  second  pair.  Ganiet 
was  the  color  of  both,  aild  also  of  my  shirt ;  and  I  wore  a  light  colored  jockey  cap.  Besides 
my  touring  bag,  I  used  a  luggage-carrier  for  my  gossamer  waterproof,  and  I  stuck  a  38  in.  bull- 
dog revolver  in  my  buckskin  belt ;  also  a  hand  piccolo,  by  the  playing  of  which  I  amused  my- 
self on  the  way, — sometimes  in  company  with  local  bands.  My  weight  at  end  of  outward 
trip  was  138  lbs.,  or  just  a  pound  less  than  at  the  start;  it  increased  to  144  lbs.  while  in 
Nebraska;  diminished  11  lbs.  within  four  days  after  starting  to  return  and  so  continued  to 
the  end ;  but  rose  again  within  two  months  to  142^  lbs.  I  had  a  very  good  appetite,  all  the 
time,  and  my  general  health  was  first-class.  My  return  home,  on  the  evening  of  Oct.  10, 
was  celebrated  by  the  band,  bicycle  club  and  citizens  generally,  escorting  me  through  the 
principal  streets  of  the  town ;  and  my  bicycle  was  afterwards  put  on  exhibition  at  the  Boston 
office  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co. ,  to  convince  people  how  well  it  had  stood  the  stram. 

'*  The  numerals  of  the  follo%ring  itinerary  show  first  the  day's  mileage,  and  second  its  rid- 
ing hours  (miles  done  on  foot  being  given  in  parenthesis) ;  the  asterisk  shows  where  rain  put  a 
stop  to  riding ;  and  the  first  halt  in  each  State  is  the  only  one  where  mention  of  its  name  seems 
needful :  May  4,  Lebanon,  Pa.,  44,  6;  5,  Carlisle,  44,  7 ;  6,  McConnellsburg,  54,  10 ;  7,  *Ray's 
HilJ,  15  (7),  3^;  8,  Schellsburg,  34  (8),  6;  9,  *Stoyestown,  19  (10),  5  ;  10,  Youngstown,  28  (xo), 
7;  II,  Pittsburg,  43  (12),  10;  12,  Steubenville,  O.,  39  (15),  10  (stopped  here  5  days  to  vbit 
friends) ;  18,  Hendrysburg,  49  (9),  8^ ;  19,  *New  Concord,  33  (8),  4^ ;  20,  Reynoldsburg,  62  (8), 
9;  21,  Springfield,  58,  7;  22,  •Vandalia,  21,  2^;  23,  Lcwisville,  Ind.,  64,  9;  24,  Indianapolis, 
43,6;  25,  Greencastle,  41,  7;  26,  Paris,  111.,  58  (10),  12J;  27,  Chesterville,  42  (8),  9;  28,  •at  a 
(arm-house,  28  (3),  6^ ;  29,  Decatur,  14  (5),  3  ;  30,  Mount  Pulaski,  23  (10),  6 ;  31,  Havana,  49 
(»o)»  «3i ;  June  I,  •Lewistown,  8  (8),  3J ;  2,  •Bushnell,  36  (5),  8 ;  3,  *DJsco,  30  (2),  6 ;  4.  *  Bur- 
lington, la.,  13  (11),  4i ;  5,  Mtddleton,  9  (6),  3.  I  was  thus  hindered  by  rain  on  9  of  my  28 
riding  days,  and  there  were  only  8  days  when  I  did  no  walking,  but  my  average  daily  advance 
was  35J  m.  for  the  looi  m.  An  engagement  at  Seward  on  June  5  then  forced  me  to  take  train, 
and  that  was  the  only  section  of  my  tour  not  done  by  wheel.  My  return  record  was  as  follows : 
Aug.  27,  DeWitt,  Neb.,  47,  9;  28,  Marysvtlle,  Kan.,  51,  9;  29,  •Waterville,  21  (6),  4;  30,  Clay 
Center,  43  (3)1  ^5  Sept.  2,  Belone,  61  (5),  10;  3,  Medina,  53  (i),  8J;  4,  Perryville,  i  (i),  \\  6, 
•Lawrence,  20(18),  si;  8,  Edwardsville,  27  (24),  8J;  9,  Independence,  Mo.,  27  (la),  s|;  10, 
Strasburg,  37  (18),  9;  11,  La  Monte,  50  (5),  9;  13,  •Otterville,  24  (9),  t\\  14,  Centertown, 
36(15),  8| ;  15,  Linn,  38(22),  ^o;  i6,  at  a  farm-house,  34  (is>,  9;  17,  Gray's  Summit,  35  fis), 
8} ;  18,  St.  Louis,  38  (2),  5^ ;  19,  New  Baden,  111.,  30,  5 ;  20,  Rome,  60,  9J ;  21,  Albion,  53,  9 ; 
22,  Oakland,  Ind.,  43  (a),  8;  23,  Boston,  46  (6),  9;  24,  Bernville,  39  (12),  8;  25,  Simpsonville, 
Ky-.  40i  si;  »6i  Winchester,  75,  10;  27,  Farmers'  Crossing,  41  (i),  6;  28,  Grayson,  44  (3),  9. 
(Itinerary  for  next  12  days  may  be  found  at  foot  of  p.  351.)  Rain  stopped  me  entirely  on  s 
days  of  this  return  trip,  and  hindered  me  on  7  of  the  other  39  when  I  did  some  riding  (it  was  all 
riding  on  9  days  only),  so  that  my  average  daily  mileage  for  the  1664  m'.  was  42}.  I  printed 
tables  of  these  disUnces  in  S^.  fVA,  Gas.  (Nov.)  and  PAH.  Cyc.  Rec.  (Nov.  14,  28),  and 
supplied  for  the  latter  the  following  remarks  about  the  roads  :  Pennsylvania.— VWit.  to 
Chambersbui^ ;  hilly  to  Ft.  London,  ind.  9  m.  over  Cone  mtn. ;  three  mtn.  ridges  to  Shellsburg ; 
19  m.,  stony  and  sandy,  over  Alleghanies ;  to  m.,  fair  pike  to  Jannertown,  where  cross  Laurel  hill, 
steep  and  stony  for  9  ra. ;  fair  road  through  Ltgonier  valley ;  stony  and  bad  through  Chestnut 
Ridge  valley,  9  m.  to  Youngstown ;  thence  to  Pittsburg  by  pike,  fair  but  hilly,  for  34  m,,  and 
then  by  riv.  rd.  through  Braddock,  better  in  dry  weather.  Ohio. — Steubenville,  by  road  of  same 
name,  can  only  be  ridden  in  dry  weather.  To  Hendrysburg,  by  Ohio  riv.  rd.  to  Bridgeport,  23  m., 
with  5  m.  bad  bluff;  on  r.  r.,  gravel  ballast    At  Bridgeport  took  National  pike;  hilly,  good; 


V 


486         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  4  BICYCLE. 

imtkfowu,  73  in.»  fnkc,  hilly,  iitdiama, — iDdiuBpalit,  id6  at.,  pOte,  level,  food;  Gnenaulk, 
4'  m-,  pike,  »  m.  good;  }  m.  din  lo  GreeaaMUt;  ptlu  ii  dl;  croucd  Kvcnl  (treuu  oot 
brklied.  JliMa.—etrii:  din  lo  Bmil,  bad;  beiux  u  Ttrre  HauU;  cm  Wibuta  rir.  1 
SixingSckl  id.  j  m. ;  then  itoiij.  undj  ud  tilufi  id.  4  m.  i  Ihea  leveL  Dealur.  ^4  m.,  bUd 
mock,  unrid^e  wLeu  wet ;  u  il  wu  taioy,  uied  r.  r.  bed,  betwccD  tndu,  whole  '^^■'*'tt 
Liixnln,  ])  m.  I  aDtncka[l>,  D.  &  E.  i,  r.,  din  ballul.  Hmniu,  und  hill  11  m.;  do  rida- 
ble; baUncc  oa  r-rr,dirt  baliut.  Lewiitown,  fl  ai.,i»ridiDBi  lnuidlcdoii  da  ol  la^t^i^^a(c 
r  r.  Biuhnel,  }b  m.,  by  C.  B.  &  Q.  1. 1.,  din  biUut,  ItuD  by  Rack  lilwd  r.  r.,  (rani  ballul, 
mouly  ridible.  Diico,  jo  m.,  by  Wabuh  i.  r.,  din  baltuu  Jtwa. — Biitlin(l(«,  ij  m.  od  nad- 
bed  <^  W.  and  C.  B.  &  Q.  i.  i.,  lul  j  m.  dugeriHa  nuiidlini  «  BcMlei.  HiddlMowD,  9 
m.  by  iiadJied  of  C.  B.  &  Q.  r.  r.,  5  u.  din  ud  gnTCl,  Ihen  sane  bolliiit,  luter  not  ridable. 
A  bijck  Diuck  road,  mouiy  level,  fi>llowe  r.  r.  and  ii  fine  wbea  dry,  vnridable  wheq  wet. 
JiftbroMia. — Roadt  throughout  l  c.  of  SUK  an  ridable  ia  the  dry  t^ooa.  Thne  days  afier  a 
hard  rain  a  bicycler  can  vcnlurt  on  any  of  ibe  moatly^iiTeled  mei,  but  great  oie  nmi  be  taka 
b  gnng  down.£iade  aimafl  lavinea.  Uoet  Toadt  are  wceik  down  on  each  ude  by  double  teama, 
leaving  Lhcm  high  in  the  middle,  making  a  good  path  iv  the  iHcydc  in  1 
The  aoil  ii  oure  uody  at  the  a.,  near  the  Platte.  My  retuin  trip  bepn  ■ 
Ktmias. — Clay  Center,  16a  hl,  due  a.  on  aection  madai  aoitie  parallel  nadi  aom  opea  pnotlb 
Bellevue,  6j  m.,  clay  and  sand  mixed.  Peiryville,  54  m.,  black  clay,  good  wheii  dry.  There  ia 
a  maio  road  on  the  n.  aide  ol  the  Kantai  hv.  to  Kan&u  City — }i  m.  ;  good  when  dry.  The  r. 
r-  CD  tbe  D.  aide  haa  dirt  and  stone  ballatt  \  aoa>e  riding  on  ude  patba ;  r.  r.  on  9.  tide  baa  mod* 
ballast,  and  ia  uniidable.  I  followed  it  34  m.  from  l^wrence,  then  rctomed  to  the  other  aidt. 
From  Perryville  followed  r.  t.  to  Kanaaa  City,  Ma.,aadin  madiweie  unridahle  &«n  rain. 
MiumrL—l^n't  Summit,  i;  m.  by  Miaaouri  Pacific  i.  r.,  Bxatly  ridable  to  Indepeodeoec,  ij 
m. ;  balance  mottly  uniidable.  An  old  uage  road  nm>  Irom  Kauai  City  to  St.  Loaii,  loUow. 
ing  the  r,  r.  to  JcScnon  City.  To  Otterville,  111  m..  by  nage  road  ;  prairie,  good  in  dry 
weather.  Union,  309  m. ;  miserable,  blufb,  stonci,  land  and  untaidgcd  creclta.  GrayV  Su^ 
niit.  14  m.  1  itone  and  dirt  road  alongudo  of  each  other,  fonner  nwilly  unridabte.  St.  han, 
iS  m.,  tame  aa  laat  for  S  m.,  then  fine  gravel  pike,  jo  m.  N.  vide  of  Minuuri  rir.  is 
said  to  be  moatly  prairie  road,  aod  I  advise  cyclen  to  take  iL  /A^hhi.— Ul.  Cannel,  lAs  m. ; 
mostly  piairic  road,  clay  and  sand  mixed ;  some  hills  oear  Wabash  riv.  /jvrfave. — New  Aflany^ 
IJ3  m, ;  about  50  m.  good,  ridable  road ;  balance  bluf^  stony  and  satidy-  tCtntitclfy. — Ldiu 
ville  to  Fannen'  Croaaiiig,  14a  m. :  fine  pike.  Catleltabuig,  ya  m. ;  andy,  stony,  and  sevetal 
mountain  ridges  to  ima.  MVjf  Cvxhw.— Gauiey  Bridge,  loo  m.  1  valley  road,m>dy ;  4  ■, 
bad  near  C.  B.  ('ir/Tius.— Slauoton,  ibi  m.  A  wom-out  stage  road  leads  10  CoviivtoB. 
Between  these  two  poiata  then  aie  the  Gauley,  Dogwood,  Big  Seweil  (g  «.  to  Summit),  Litik 
Sewell,  and  Mud  Creek  mtna.,  and  several  mauntain  ridget  The  Alle^aies  He  betweca 
Lewisburg,  W.  Va-,  and  Covington »  Vs.,  and  are  mostly  ridable^  From  Covingtso  to  Gosbc^ 
iS  m.,  there  ia  scarcely  any  road,  the  railioad  aide-path  being  beat  for  the  bicycle.  There  ara 
several  riven  to  ford.  In  thia  way  I  cnisaed  the  Cow-Paatuie  liv.  three  times,  and  the  Jacksoa 
riv.  once.  G«heo  to  Buffalo  Gap,  J  m.  I  bad  bnnch  mad  before  reaching  latter,  wbera  I 
alruckastageroad,  in  fair  conation,  leading  to  the  fanHnuSheiiabdoab  valley  pike  at  Ml  Sidney 
(see  p.  }]i)  only  lo  m.  n.  oi  Staunton.    Ji!sr7i!)iu£— Hageiatown  to  Xoyccrille,  1}  mniak*, 

balDid,  to  m.  -,  wonwH 

cuter,  9  m.  1  New  H0II 

Dr.  H.  Jarri.  (b.  M 

itdaysDn  the  way  to  E 
eter,  but  I  estimate  thi 
leas  than  Sj  m.(l  think  I 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         487 

Teulian.    Ai  I  fcnpac  tcij  freely,  ind  had  KmE  waim  dajpa  la  conuad  with,  I  lost  migbt  at 

nae  rkleit  uy  about  'doe  glait  of  milk  being  eooiigh. '  My  only  fall  od  the  eotLre  trip  w*i 
near  PiedmoDt,  caiued  by  nriluDg  a  looH  atone  vhik  couting  a  Aon  hill.  TOa  beni  the 
sank  into  (he  ipoko,  but  did  no  harm  to  myKlf,  u  \  slid  o0  aidewue  onto  (em  finna.  I  alio 
hfoke  out  tfaiee  tpoket  by  caLcbin;  my  heel  in  tfaeni  on  three  lepanie  accaikmg,  but  bad  dd 
other  acddenti.  I  moneil  lotnmt  bum  Chiiago  (a  Fl  Wayne,  ud  fiom  MwiUoo,  0.,ta 
OaVland,  Md.,  whence  1  wheeled  (□  Hagentowa  and  Bal(iiibOK,  and  lo  home.  My  other 
wbeeliBg.  Iherefon,  wu  (rom  SL  Paul  to  Chicago,  and  ban  Fl.  Wayne  la  UinitUia.  Tbe 
rinr  roadi  fiom  St.  Paul  la  Mulings,  (biDugh  the  «.  tide,  and  thence  to  Winona  are  lair  and 
IDDd,  wilh  leiy  fine  views  at  ihe  MiwiuippL  Enlering  here  into  Wiicouin,  I  touod  the  loldt 
BOOB  thai  Suit  to  Uilwaukee  alntoo  all  ridable,  with  but  few  hitli,  Thenee  lo  Chicago  the 
riding  <•  quite  fair,  and  I  may  lay  Ibe  ume  of  h  to  F(.  Wayne.  Frun  then  dmugfa  la 
Wheeling.W.Va.,  ilia  more  or  leu  hilly  and  tough;  Ihencc  to  Frederick  qidle  hilly  (tome 
my  tharp  hilU) ;  but  between  F.  and  Baltimore  Uiere  ii  good  coMling,  My  wheel  waiajijn. 
EmaoidinirT ;  and  between  June,  'Bo,  and  Oct.,  'Sj,  [  rode  il  in  the  following  fifteen  Halex  \ 
Uai*.,  N.  Y.,  N.  J.,  Penn.,  Del.,  Md.,  ¥a.,  W.  Va.,  O.,  fnd,  111.,  Mich.,  Wis.,  Minn,,  la., 
and  Dakota  Territory.  I  'm  inclined  to  think  thai  my  neal  putchaae  will  be  the  tame  style  of 
BUchine  of  amaUer  nu ;  aioce,  after  actual  leit  of  under.aiie  and  over-iiie  wheels,  i  will  take 
the  uoda'siifl  al  all  litnes  for  all  kind*  of  wotk  on  the  road.  I  've  taken  inlerest  in  wheeling  - 
aibce  *76,  when  I  uw  the  first  bicycle  on  exhilnlion  at  Philadelphia  \  btil  il  was  not  unii] 
the  fan  of  '79  that  I  pKcured  my  'Columbia,  No.  144,'  which  uyle  of  nudiine  1  think  h« 
nerer  bad  an  equal  for  rough  wear  and  tear.  Mine  stood  many  milet  of  Tery  rough  running, 
without  coating  anything  lor  repairs,  except  a  hindle-bar  and  cranli.abaf  t,  both  broken  by  fallt  on 
wel  and  greasy  cohUe-sionea.  II  1  am  alire  in  the  summer  and  autumn  of  "W,  1  intend  to  make 
a  conlinnoua  trail  wilh  ihe  lire  of  my  bicycle  from  Winnipeg,  in  Maniinba,  to  New  York  aty." 

Geo.  W.  Biker  (b.  Nov,  j,  1864),  of  the  St,  Louii  Ramblers,  who  pushed  a  4S  in.  Victor  theoa 
to  BonoD,  July  i-iS.  'I5,  wllhonl  serious  icddent,  as  recorded  in  the  Wlml  and  Bi,  WtrU  o( 
Ang.  ),  and  Sfr.  IVh.  Got.  of  Sept. ,  from  which  sonrces  I  condense  the  f nllnwing  :  "  Colum- 
bia, 4S4  m.,  was  inched  on  the  morning  of  tha  gth,  a  daily  average  of  50  m.,  though  I  made 
die  8a  m.  from  Terre  Haute  to  Indiaaapolii  (half  of  it  on  poor  roadj)  in  8  h.,  Iheieby  brtakhif 
the  rcenrd  between  those  platM.     My  longen  ride  wai  from  F.rie  to  Buffaki,  9a  m.  in  11  h., 
whence  (brough  Albany  to  Boston  I  foimd  the  poorest  average  riding  nf  all,   T  aeveral  times  rod* 
■s  much  IS  60  or  JO  m,  in  a  day.    My  only  run  after  dark  was  from  Baiavia  tn  Leroy,  la  m. 
My  one  day's  illness  apparently  resulted  from  a  change  in  the  drinking  waler,  early  in  the  Iripi 
but  I  wheeled  ID  m.  Ihai  day.     Rain  did  not  deter  me,  and  I  never  caught  cold.     I  found  my 
best  ridiog  houn  were  from  4  A,  K.  to  II,  and  1  rested  conndeiably  in  the  altemoona.     Ettimat- 
iog  my  rests  ai  ^  days,  my  complete  ri^ngnlaya  a>  19  and  my  diSancc  at  i]j4  m.,  wouM  thow 
ing  Ihe  diitance  by  tbe  full  iS  diyi  of  the 
ook  aix  headers  while  trying  la  r4de  down 
vel  ground.     Mybaggagewas  strapped  ba- 
in., w»ght.t];lbt.,  and  I  las  hardly  J  Iba, 
on  the  Ohio  roadt.    Thoae  of  niinois  were' 
f  mine,  isklngif  these  ttatementt  rest  upon 
of  dally  dittances  and  ha1ting..placei  1  and 

>le  trip,  have  likewite  brought  no  retpotiaa. 
niB,  diiided  thus  :  through  Terre  Haute 
;  Albany,  39B,  [After  the  above  waa  In 
14,  'M).  and  I  with  diSicuIty  make  room 


488  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE.        im 

I  didn't  keq;>  a  record  of  a  great  many  things.    The  last  two  days  of  the  trip  gave  8"i<«ki 
mileage  (163)  than  any  other  two,  though  *I  spoiled  the  continuity  of  it  by  talcing  trai  '*  >  > 
through  Hoosac  tunnel,  rather  than  walk  9  m.  over  the  mtn.     I  was  from  4  a.  m.    t   . . 
p.  M.,  in  wheeling  83  m.  from  New  Lebanon,  N.  Y.,  to  Athol,  besides  the  tunnel  ride    -  •. 
reached  Boston,  80  m.,  next  day  at  6.30  p.  m.     I  give  the  miles  of  each  day's  ride,    ' 
place  and  hour  where  it  ended  ('p.  m.'  being  understood  unless  'a.  m.'  is  expressed'  '^ 
lows:    July  1,39,  Trenton,  4.30;  ad,  50,  Eggerstown,  6;  3d,  34,  Effingham,  4;  4th,  7 
Haute,  s-3o;  5th,  10,  in  T.  H.;  6th,  80,  Indianapolis,  a.30;  7th,  70,  Richmond,  6.30;    ■.  , 
Springfield,  5 ;  9th,  44,  Columbus,  9.30  a.  m.;  loth,  65,  Bucyrus,  5 ;  i  ith,  20,  Plymouth, 
65,  Elyria,  6;  X3th,  ao,  Cleveland,  8.30  a.  m.;  X4th,  50,  Geneva,  (2  to)6.3o;  15th,  50, 
i6th,  90,  Bu£Ealo,  5 ;  17th,  Niagara  and  back  by  train  ;  iSth,  57,  Leroy,  8 ;  19th,  35,  Cans 
5;  20th,  23,  farm-house,  4 ;  21st,  55,  Syracuse,  3;  22d,   15,  Chittenango,  (6.30  to)  8 
Utica,  II  A.  M.;  a4th,  45,  Fort  Plain,  6;  25th,  65,  Albany  3  ;  26th,  40,  New  Lebanon 
83,  Athol,  7.30 ;  28th,  80,  Boston,  6.30.    This  makes  a  total  of  1347  m.     I  was  ill  on 
of  loth  and  slept  only  a  little ;  rode  20  m.  on  the  i  ith,  though  f  eelbg  very  weak,  and  on 
pleted  a  three  days'  run  of  140  m.,  by  taking  a  bad  header.     I  still  carry  scars  from  the 
at  Ashtabula  on  the  15th.    Several  days  were  very  hot,  the  22d  showing  96*  in  the  sh 
One  of  the  earliest  long  tours  made  in  this  country  also  terminated  at  Boston  (Oct.  1 1 
ing  been  begun  54  days  previously  at  Lima,which  is  71  m.  s.  of  Toledo,  130  m.  n.  of  Cine 
about  30  m.  e.  of  the  Indiana  border.    The  Bi.  World  of  Dec.  3  gave  two  columns  to  a 
from  a  talk  with  R.  W.  Parmenter,  and  this  I  thus  condense  :  "  My  companion,  Charl 
bell,  of  Lima,  rode  a  52  in.,  while  I  rode  a  54  in.,  both  being  Standard  Columbias,  r 
cured,  for  neither  of  us  had  ridden  100  m.  all  told.   My  weight  increased  from  133  to  14, 
the  trip.    We  started  Aug.  19,  at  5  p.  m.,  and  rode  11^  m.  to  Cranberry ;  20th,  Finley, 
Tiffin,  a8  m. ;  22d,  Monroeville ;  23d,  Norwalk,  4  m. ;  24th,  bad  clay  roads  for 
companion  breaking  down  and  going  to  Cleveland  by  train;  25th,  Cleveland;  271 
38th,  Girard ;  30th,  Westfield.    Two  days  later,  my  companion  rejoined  me  at  L^i 
qua,  and  our  tour  continued  :  Sept.   x,  Mayville  to  Silver  Creek ;  2d,  BufiEalo ;  3 
4th,  Albion  ;  5th,  Rochester ;  6th,  Oyde ;  7th,  Syracuse ;  9th,  Utica ;  xoth.  Little 
Schenectady ;  12th,  Albany.    The  road  was  bad  for  this  last  15  m.,  and  for  most  o' 
took  the  r.  r.  track ;  as  also  from  Utica  to  Little  Falls,  on  account  of  rain ;  while  f 
Syracuse  we  mostly  tried  the  tow-path,  as  the  road  was  sandy  and  stony.    On 
wheeled  30  m.  down  the  river  to  Hudsoi^  whence  on  x6th,  Mr.  Campbell  starter^ 
while  I  visited  New  York  and  the  Catskills  till  Oct.  6,  when  I  wheeled  37  m.  fror 
Mt  Oray,  by  good  road,  with  only  one  large  hill ;  on  the  7th,  by  sandy,  stony  and 
roads  to  Westfield  ;  8th,  to  Springfield ;  9th,  to  Worcester ;  where  I  halted  a  day  • 
to  Boston  on  Monday,  the  nth."    (By  referring  to  p.  201,  it  will  be  seen  that 
going  w.,  on  the  morning  of  Sept.  9,  '80,  while  these  tourists,  coming  e.,  arri\ 
same  night ;  but  I  failed  to  meet  them  or  to  hear  of  them.)    Though  the  BL  Wor 
Mr.  P.  rode  on  3  x  of  the  54  days,  it  exaggerates  the  distance  covered  to  "  about  xooo 
it  ¥ras  "  accomplished  in  about  20  riding  days,  or  an  average  of  50  m.  a  day.''    Sin 
uncertain  phrases  were  used  in  the  papers  to  characterize  the  tour  which  Gale  SI 
same  town,  took  to  Boston,  the  next  spring.     I  exchanged  a  few  words  with  b. 
time  of  the  League  meet  in  May,  but  have  forgotten  what  he  said  as  to  the  pi 
journey  which  was  done  by  train ;  and  the  letter  of  enquiry  which  I  addressed 
>9t  'S5)  brought  no  response,  from  either  him  or  Mr.  Parmenter.    The  same  fa 
ter  of  same  date  to  another  tourist,  whom  I  met  on  the  same  occasion  :  W.  H.  • 
ton,  who  wheeled  from  Chicago  to  Wheeling,  in  the  autumn  following ;  then  > 
and  took  train  to  Washington,  where  I  met  him  again  at  the  dose  of  my  r. 
"  along  the  Potomac  "  (Oct.  28,  '8x,  see  p.  242).     I  remember  he  told  me  that ' 
a  fascination  for  him  that  he  had  dedded  to  abandon  the  wheel lentirely  forsev. 
only  security  against  letting  his  love  for  it  get  the  better  of  his  desire  to  '*  succ' 
He  felt  that,  if  he  trusted  himself  in  the  saddle  at  all,  he  could  hardly  resist  ti 


y-DISTA.WCE  JtOl/TK'!  ASH  fiff'f  f>  ■ 


S^  IbL  dunsi 
parted  in  Sfr. 


ille  M  9  A.  M.  ol 
aelda  lo  Ilw  '  lop 
ble  on  acGouDt  ol 
d  wade,  wilh  "« 
niplctclT  used  up, 
e*ched  Elk  Gion, 
IV  deep  ™»  "hieh 

ioroed  the  ihniun. 
ached  Waodbnagi, 
h  I>  the  nal  point  al 
;  chieflT  foi  Ihe  "k* 
m. ,  by  good  roid,  « 
>1  6.30.     On  Ihe  ijlh, 


),  with  grand  leemrj"" 
=  l«vingSlock>oni  "»1. 
.lel»yviout«Hl,on*' 
fled  log-Kabin.  Th=  «»'' 
r'iloC«oe'.F\»[i«»n'- 
o  the  valle*.    W"  <»^"  ' 


490 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


bottom,  and  took  break&tt  mt  Saa  Juan,  7  m.  on,  before  walking  up  and  down  the  loug^  and 
steep  mountain  17I  m.  to  Salinas,  in  the  midst  of  adobe  roads,  whence,  after  lunch,  I  started 
towards  the  sesrcoast,  and  after  fording  the  Salinas  and  seveial  smaller  streams,  reached  the 
El  Monte  Hotel  in  Monterey,  with  a  day's  record  of  S5^  m*  of  pleasant  riding  and  walking 
through  beautiful  scenery.  My  road  as  far  as  San  Jose  had  been  level  and  superbly  smooth, 
and  the  r%ion  of  Monterey  boasts  50  m.  or  more  of  sandpapered  and  polished  driveways;  bat 
as  soon  as  I  left  that  great  sea-side  resort,  monotooous  billows  of  sand  had  to  be  tramped  across, 
and  rough  famwoads  of  hard  adobe,  so  that  my  record  of  the  18th,  at  CastroviDe,  was  bat  aif 
m. ,  of  which  mudi  had  been  ridden  in  M.  before  starting.  The  mosquitoes  caused  great  trouble 
from  C.  to  Watsonville,  where  I  met  the  Gibson  brothers,  who  had  wheeled  from  S.  F.,  and 
who  induced  me  to  abandon  the  plan  of  continuing  up  the  coast  to  Santa  Crux,  as  they  said  the 
sand  on  the  roads  would  make  progress  too  laborious.  So  I  struck  across,  through  the  Chitman 
and  Gray  ranches,  to  the  SanU  Clara  valley,  and  with  the  wind's  help  soon  reached  Gihoy, 
whence  I  doubled  on  my  track  of  four  days  before  to  Madrone,  48^  m.  f or  the  day.  Thence, 
on  the  aist,  by  my  former  perfea  road  for  18  m.  to  San  Jose,  where  at  ro  I  b^^  a  climb  of 
asi  m.  to  the  Lick  Observatory  on  Mt.  Hamilton,  at  5.30  P.  m.  This  is  an  altitude  of  4440  fL, 
and  the  rise  of  the  last  7  m.  is  3370  ft.  From  what  is  called  the  summit  (10  m.  from  S.  J. ;  1700 
ft  elevation),  I  descended  to  Hill's  Valley  and  Smith's  Creek,  8|  m.,  and  then  climbed  up  a 
winding  grade,  of  about  6  ft  to  too,  for  the  final  6i  m.  to  the  Observatory.  In  returning, 
through  a  heavy  fog,  I  took  a  crosscut  trail  to  the  brick-yard,  1  m.,  and  reached  Smith's  Oeek 
a  h.  after  leaving  the  top,  with  a  day's  record  of  55!  m.  On  the  aad,  I  took  a  swift  spin  t» 
Alum  rock  and  back,  before  breakfasting  at  the  Junction  House,  whence  I  returned  to  San  Josa 
for  a  short  stop  at  church,  amd  then  continued  through  Melpetas  (6|  m.),  Washington  Comers 
(8|  m.),  San  Lorenzo  (16^  m.X  Oakland  pier  (16 1  m.),  and  so  across  to  the  starting-point  of  my 
tour  at  5  p.  M., — making  83  m.  for  the  day,  which  was  cooled  by  gentle  showers,  and  380}  m.  for 
the  8  days,  during  which  I  traveled  in  the  counties  of  San  Frandsoo,  San  Mateo,  Santa  Clara, 
San  Benito  and  Alameda.  The  proposed  run  of  the  second  week  through  Mario  county  from 
San  Rafael  had  to  be  abandoned,  because  the  rain,  which  continued  during  the  a3d,  made  the 
roads  too  muddy ;  but  I  took  boat  to  Petaluma  instead,  and  at  6  a.  M.  of  June  34,  started 
(hence,  against  a  strong  n.  wind,  for  breakfast  at  Santa  Rosa,  i6i  m.  For  the  next  16  m.  to 
Healdsburg,  the  wind  rapidly  improved  the  roads,  which  are  of  gravelly  surface,  so  that  two 
days  later  they  would  stand  a  fair  comparison  to  the  finest  in  the  State.  Numerous  but  gentle- 
grades  offered  good  chances  for  coasting  during  the  next  18  m.  to  Qoveidale,  where  I  spent  the 
night  (sof  m.  for  the  day ;  434}  m.  for  the  tour),  except  those  near  the  *  Swiss^Italian  colony,' 
whose  constant  wood-hauling  had  made  things  rough  and  rutty.    As  far  as  Hoptown,  16^  nx, 

I  also  found  a  bumpy  adobe  surface  and  steep  hills,  on  the  asth,  and  I  had  to  ford  the  Russiaa 
riv.  before  reaching  Ukiah,  18  m.,  but  the  roads  were  then  good,  though  very  dusty,  to  Cleve* 
land's  Mill,  8  m.  On  the  36th,  after  riding  la  m.,  I  came  in  sight  of  the  Blue  lakes,  and  sped 
smoothly  along  a  toll-road,  exhilarated  by  the  mountain  air  and  the  grandeur  of  the  scenery, 
until  at  last  I  coasted  down  a  gentle  slope  to  the  hotel  on  the  shore.  After  a  brief  halt  here,  I 
proceeded  by  fair  roads  14  m.  down-grade  to  Lake  Port,  on  Lake  Qear,  a  superb  pien  of  water 

I I  m.  wide  and  37  m.  long,  where  I  halted  several  hours  for  a  sail  and  swim ;  and  then  went 
through  Kelseyvflle,  8|  m.,  to  Glenbrook,  11  m.,  for  the  night  This  day's  surroundings  were 
indescribably  attractive :  mountainous  roads  winding  amid  steep  bluffs  and  deep  cafions,  with 
enchanting  views  of  the  lake  at  every  tarn ;  but  pleasaoter  than  all  was  the  fact  of  my  overtak- 
ing three  fellow-wheelmen  at  G.,  who  had  left  Petaluma  two  days  in  advance  of  mysdf,  and 
been  delayed  by  bad  weather  and  a  broken  bicycle.  The  trio  were  George  Rideoot,  Ernest 
Rideout  and  A.  H.  Cowen,  the  first  of  whom  took  train  home  next  daty  to  S.  F.,  while  the  other 
two  wheeled  with  me  to  Napa,  56  m.  We  spent  the  forenoon  in  walking  over  the  St  Helena 
mtn.  to  Calistoga,  38  m.,  where  we  were  fairly  in  the  beautiful  Napa  valley,  and  we  covered 
the  next  9  m.  to  St  Helena  in  }  h.,  for  the  road  is  the  best  in  this  n.  part  of  the  State,  and  it 
continues  fair  to  Napa,  with  occasional  bumpy  patches.  We  took  an  early  start  on  the  38th, 
aad  finished  61  m.,  throiagh  the  Sacramento  valley,  at  Davisville,  at  6  p.  m.,  after  much  Cianp* 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  MtlDERS.         491 

■^  cas|BBa  witli  fn^ktnl 
■cCdcdefia^isI 

and  Rtwenide.    My  six  days' 
ScncHM,  M endociDO,  Lake  Napa, 
dK  forti^igltt's  toor  of  686|  ak 

WX  Gas..  Aug.  'Ss,  pPl  63^) 
Waller  (b.  Joly  11,  1867),  to  the  Yoaoaile  Valiey,- 

aaane  gromid  as  the  bat  day's  d  tkc  te»- yt  ppea>  bt  ia  aa  ntniiwifc  dhgction  ;  «*As 
froaaS.  F.  to  Sooth  VaD^  is  ia  very  poareoMiiKiMiiB  A|ni,  «e  «CBt  li^her  liy 
faond  fairly  good  ritfiag  tbRHgh  North  VaScia  to  the  Fov  ICk  Boaae,  6a.. 
walked  nort  of  the  II  ai.  to  CaedeKa,  or  Bridgeport,  for  doHcr  at  12.  JO.    We 
to  Soinm,  6  bl  ia  |  h. ;  to  Flaaii,  la  ak  of  far  mad,  at  4»  aod  to  Dbob,  by  pooRr  oaes  at  7. 
stopped  at  the  Arcade  Ifoasf     The  aniB  toad  afaof  hoe  is  a 


to  tan  back  aad  b^ia  dipaa.    After  pOHag  I>>vi**iOc  at  9  a.  m.  of 
the   rjth,  weobeycd  the  advice  of  a  b^  boy,  who  daccted  aa  acaoas  the  ields  to  the  *  lap 

so  alter  ausy  ^iBBcalt  lades,  proved  acvcciy  waJhaole  oh  aooovat  of 

a  day's  ieoordofa6m.;bnc  were  frcah  for  a  near  start  oa  the  Mth,  and  reached  £2k  Grove. 
if^aL,  ia  44  h.,  fast  before  Booo.iatpito  of  otssfiatgHto  by-paths,  and  toectiaK  deep  rati 
foreediMtowalk.  Walter's beatos, to tjsspoait of  dbetoar,  aiaalifwiiit e^; and 
inresMleat  ncycie  saftereo  in  aaMuesasB  penaiiy  ■■lie  aa  tuftty  tooae  cuas  toroeo  tae 
iagapofboch.  Halting  a  b.  lor  &ner,ve  rode  ra}  auto  Gait,  m  i|h.; 
7I  a.,  at  4.ao^  and  Stockton,  15  BL.  at  6.3s-  We  tfopped  a  day  at  S.,  which  is  the  real  paiat  of 
flenBrnne  lor  lae  soaeflHie  mn  loor  ocenaHHanr  vwn  so  aocnaKato  Be^aa  cbbesy  mf 
of  tccinc  friends  on  the  way),  aod  OB  the  s6th  reached  Faiah^ton,  tyk  »..  by  good 
aoLis,  Knifes  Fcny,  ao|  la.,  at  y,  and  dondtoan's,  or  John  CanaiB*s,  at  6.30L  On  ^he  ijth. 
vp  bin  by  roB^  roads  to  Chtnrar  Caaq»,  S  bl  (7,10  to  loujo);  then  a  sdD  tongher  aaoent  for  t^ 
BL  to  Ptita^*  (indodkig  one  bill  which  bad  to  be  walked  ap  for  3  aa.);  then  j  a.  to  Giweland, 
dariag  which  we  twice  waded  the  TaoiaaMe  rfr.,  besides  ooaiqg  it  by  feny  lasc.)  at  Jachao»> 
viHe.  We  each  bad  to  pay  jo  c  toO  on  Che  road,  for  tfns  it  fiailwl  of  every  one,  wheAer  walk- 
ing  or  riifing.  Ob  the  18th.  to  Crocker's,  S3|aL  (6.30  ▲.  m.  to  3.40  r.  u.\  widi  graad  aoeneiy  «B 
the  way,  bat  no  honaes.  Here  we  eot  the  betf  aaak  we  had  h^  since  laavipg  Stockton  ;  and, 
BOW  well  iq>iB  the  aovBtaias.  the  faffing  aaowcaaaed  a  delay  ia  onr  start,  on  the 
of  the  agth,  and  afterwards  drove  as  to  the  shdier  of  a  deaeitod  log-cibin.  The  cold 
Slopped  the  worlong  of  ay  cydoatoter;  bat  the  diitanoe  froa  Crocker^  to  Crane's  Flat  is  S  a., 
and  Ihe  aaanit  is  1  as.  beyood,  followed  by  a  descent  of  14  to.  iato  the  valley.    We  caoldB't 

of  the  anowandthe  oold;  andat  onetioM  weoKrealaoat  froaen.  Ice 
aO  over  oar  bityiJes  and  taeweated  the  wheels  froa  revolviqg,  iMil  we  packed  it  away 
After  a  atrelch  of  this  sort  of  travefiag,  the  roads  btraar  ciearer,  and  sBomjd 
■s  to  ride,  natil,  at  a  certain  bend  in  the  road,  we  aaddealy  saw  ^e  iuaoBa  valley  iiailim:  a 
onr  feet,  ia  all  its  loveliness,  thoqgh  4  aa.  of  ateep  descents  reaaained  bdbre  we  really  reacfaod 
it,  and  pot  ap  at  tte  Barnard  Hooae.  Tbe  bakbone  of  Walter's  aachine  brake  on  the  way 
dowB,and  we  took  taras  in  tmndfiog  it  notil  we  veadad  a  bbcbonth,  who  daaaaOy  vpdded  it 
tafethcr,atadtor]geof$S.  Oa  aaikagefor  the  seven  days  was  asi|*of«>iich  >«M*«l*«9eBtod 
the  diatancf  froa  Stodclon.  Having  visited  Bridal  Vefl  blls  and  Mirror  lake,  we  gave  Uw  reat 
of  the  daqr  to  scaling  Glacier  point  (oovcred  with  snow),  whence  we  conU  see  the  Vernal  and 
Nevada  falls,  and  abnoot  evcrytluBg  eke  in  dus  indescribably  aplmdid  vaDey ;  and  at  7  a.  m.  «f 
Aprilaf  resaBedowbicydesfortherctBm.    We  reached  Crocker's  «  3.30  r.  m.,- 


492  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

cter,  which  had  thawed  out  while  in  the  valley,  giving  the  diataaoe  as  23  111.,-sind  spent  the 
second  night  at  Groveton,  in  order  to  fix  the  tire  of  Walter's  little  whed,  which  stripped  off 
when  6  m.  from  there.  N;ext  morning  he  bent  his  handle4»r  by  a  fall  and  then  broke  it,  in  try> 
ing-to  pull  it  straight ;  and  my  own  r.  handle-bar  snapped  off  on  the  asth,  while  coastbg  a  hill, 
in  less  than  a  m.  after  starting  from  Knight's  Ferry  at  6  a.  M.,  and  within  half  a  mile  after  oqr 
poshing  off  a  pedal.  Rigging  t^>  a  wooden  handle,  to  correspond  with  Walter's,  I  rode  5  m. 
further  with  one  pedal,  and  then  fitted  in  a  carriage-bolt  which  served  in  place  of  the  other  as 
far  as  Farmington,  where  I  took  one  of  Walter's,  and  reached  Stockton  at  a  p.  m.,— he  going 
thither  by  train  (as  the  welded  backbone  was  nearly  ready  to  fall  apart  again),  and  both  of  us 
thence  home  together.  The  bicycle  used  on  this  tour  was  my  old  Expert,  which  had  been 
through  many  a  campaign ;  and  its  brake-spoon  was  half  worn  away  when  the  tour  ended." 

The  earliest  all-day  tide  in  California  seems  to  have  been  the  one  described  in  the  Mommg 
Co^ as  taken  on  Sunday,  June  15,  '79,  from  San  Francisco  (Twentieth  and  Mission  sts.),  at  7 
A.  M.,  to  San  Jose,  at  1.30  p.  m.,  with  halts  amounting  to  i  h.  50  min.  The  first  stretch,  to 
Cooma,  was  roughest,  and  required  much  walking ;  the  last,  from  Santa  Qara,  was  smoothest 
and  swiftest.  The  people  all  along  the  route  were  as  kind  and  hospitable  as  they  were  curious 
and  admiring ;  and  the  "  time  "  was  sent  back  by  telegraph.  Great  surprise  was  expressed  at 
the  fact  of  wheeling  so  silently  through  a  flock  of  200  sheep,  ^H^ch  were  resting  in  the  road, 
that  only  one  of  them  got  up  to  move  away.  This  was  the  first  long  ride  -ever  taken  by  Fr«d 
T.  Merrill  (b.  1858),  who  is  now  of  the  firm  of  Hollister  &  Merrill,  proprietors  of  the  North- 
west stencil  and  rubber-stamp  works,  at  Portland,  Or.,  and  whose  personal  report  to  me  (Sept. 
a7,  '84)  is  as  follows  :  '*  I  have  kept  no  record  of  my  out-door  riding ;  in  fact,  have  not  indulged 
in  a  great  deal  of  it.  I  once  took  a  round-trip  from  S.  P.,  with  F.  W.  Caples,  of  that  city,  to 
Santa  Cms,  Monterey,  Watsonville,  Gilroy,  San  Jose  and  home ;  and  once  with  A.  A.  Bennett, 
of  S.  F.,  climbed  over  the  Sierra  Nevadas  to  Reno,  300  m.  in  6  days  (see  p.  470 ;  also  IVheel^  Feb. 
6,  '85).  Most  of  the  Oregon  roads  are  inferior  to  those  of  California,  though  I  've  not  yet  trisd 
150  m.  of  them.  I  learned  to  ride  the  bone-shaker  in  Boston,  14  years  ^o,  and  have  practiced 
on  it  or  the  bicycle  pretty  steadily  ever  since.  I  've  appeared  in  public  for  about  10  years,  and 
during  that  time  have  ridden  80  weeks  at  Woodward's  Gardens,  in  S.  F. ,  carrying  my  two  brothers 
on  my  shoulders,  one  above  the  other.  While  there,  also,  I  gave  a  special  performance  before 
the  ICing  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  6  years  ago.  In  these  ways  I  have  earned  the  title  of  '  profes- 
sional champion  trick-bicycler  of  the  Pacific  coast'  I  have  taught  180  men  amd  ta  women  how 
to  ride  the  bicycle,  and  I  intend  to  open  another  school  at  the  Mechanics*  Pavilion,  next  winter. 
In  last  winter's  race  here,  I  covered  256  m.  in  21  h.,  on  a  50  in.  Expert  (46  lbs.).  I've  just  ik>w 
returned  from  '  doing  the  county  fairs,'  and  I  expect  to  continue  riding  for  many  years  to  come." 

A  nouble  run  of  too  m.  in  12^  h.  was  made  by  H.  C.  Finkler,  July  3,  '84,  "  to  see  how 
much  he  could  easily  do  without  straining,  while  invigorated  by  his  fortnight's  tour,"  already 
described ;  and  the  record  is  as  follows, — the  first  numeral  showing  the  hour,  the  second  the 
mileage :  "  Start  7.35,  Mission  and  Twenty-sixth  sts.,  o;  9,  Fourteen  Mile  House,  \\\ ;  9.15, 
D.  O.  Mills's  Villa,  at  Millbrae,  13^;  10,  Belmont  Hotel,  22;  10.45,  Redwood  City,  25I;  11. 15, 
Menlo  Park,  39};  11.25,  Palo  Alto,  i\\\  iz.4Si  Mayfield,  34} *,  12,  Mountain  View,  39];  1.05 
p.  M.,  Santa  Clara,  47I ;  t.20,  San  Jose,  51^;  3,  Coyote,  63!;  3.30,  Madrone,  69I;  5.15,  Gilroy, 
8ii  \  6.55,  San  Felipe,  91} ;  8,  Hollister,  toof.  At  the  outset  of  the  route,  which  was  a  coo- 
tinuation  of  Mission  St.,  a  slow  pace  was  enforced  by  the  wind.  From  Millbrae  to  San  Jose,  the 
road  is  shaded  on  both  sides  by  large  trees,  and  it  was*  on  this  smooth  stretch  that  I  took  a 
terrific  header  while  going  down  a  gentle  grade.  My  second  mishap  was  within  t(  m.  of  Hollis- 
ter :  a  collision  with  a  farm-wagon,  which  refused  to  turn  out.  Allowing  for  15  stops,  my  aver- 
age gait  was  about  10  m.  per  h.,  and  the  ride  brought  my  total  vacation  mileage  up  to  787." 
This  is  the  longest  straightaway  run  yet  reported  in  Cafifomia ;  thongh  greater  number  of  m.  in 
12  h.  have  since  been  traversed  upon  the  same  roads.  Thus,  the  BL  World  (Apr.  24,  *8s) 
printed  a  report  of  150  m.  ride  taken  by  Wm.  J.  Bowman,  of  Oakland  B.  C,  to  Gilroy  and  ba^, 
starting  Sunday,  March  22,  at  7.30  a.  m.,  and  finishing  Monday  at  i  a.  m.,  with  rests  that  re- 
duced his  time  in  the  saddle  to  15  h.  25  min.    "  Hn  first  dismount  was  made  at  the  public 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         493 

square,  in  front  of  St.  James  Hotel,  in  San  Jose  (45  m.),  at  11.15,— the  times  at  previous  points 
being:  San  Lorenzo,  8.30;  Mt.  Eden,  8.45;  Alvarado,  9.05;  Centerville,  9,30;  Washington 
Comers,  9.55.  He  reached  Gilroy  (30  m.)  at  3  p.  m.,  having  pushed  against  a  heavy  wind  fcr 
last  18  m.,  and  made  one  stop  of  \  h.  and  one  of  5  min.,  besides  the  \  h.  at  San  Jose.  He 
made  three  stops  of  5  min.  each  on  the  return  thither,  3.30  to  6.xo  p.  m.  ;  and  his  reconl  then 
stood  at  105  m.  for  9  h.  20  min.  of  actual  riding.  He  rode  slowly  for  the  final  45  m.  (6.ao  p.  m. 
to  I  A.  M.,  with  three  rests  of  \  h.  each),  to  his  home  at  Ninth  and  Grove  sta.,  Oakland,  17^  h. 
from  the  aUrt,  as  the  clouds  obscured  the  moon."  The  same  paper  later  said  of  the  same  man 
(July  10,  '85)  :  "  He  claims  to  have  made  two  bicycle  runs,  between  midnight  of  May  30  and 
6.47  A.  M.  of  June  2,  which  gave  a  total  of  347  m.  for  the  54  h.  47  min.  included.  After  doing  167 
m.,  he  had  a  half  night's  sleep,  and  then  rode  the  final  soo  m.,— about  \  of  which  was  against  a 
head- wind.  During  the  hours  of  darkness,  he  used  a  small  hub-lamp  and  made  slow  progress." 
According  to  the  IVhetl  (Jixxg.  28,  '85),  "  J.  E.  Gibson,  Capt.  of  Garden  aty  B.  C,  San  Fran- 
daco,  made  an  attempt  to  beat  the  24  h.  road-record  of  207!  m.  which  was  won  in  May  by  F. 
R.  Cook.  Surting  at  8.05  a.  m.,  July  29,  he  completed  an  m.  at  8  a.  m.  of  the  30th,  though 
we  judge  by  the  reporu  that  he  rode  more  than  twice  over  the  same  stretch  of  roadway ,^a  repre- 
hensible practice  which  the  League  racing  board  should  legislate  against."  The  BL  Worlds 
said :  "  We  do  not  learn  that  J.  £.  Gibson,  of  San  Jose,  took  any  method  to  verify  his  route  and 
distances  of  July  29."    My  letters  to  both  riders,  requesting  details,  have  broi^bt  no  response. 

A  larger  share  of  attention  was  e^ven  in  the  press  to  the  ride  of  Fred  Russ  Cook  (b.  Nov. 
9,  1861),  which  was  more  carefully  managed,  and  about  whi/:h  he  authorised  .his  friend,  S.  F. 
Booth,  jr.,  to  furnish  me  the  following  particulars  :  "  He  learned  to  ride  March  15,  '84,  on  a 
54  in.  Harvard,  and  won  his  first  medal  May  30  by  doing  ^  ol  in  1.29},  on  a  soft  day  track. 
His  height  is  5  ft.  9  in.,  weight  about  170  lbs.,  and  his  portrait  was  printed  in  Spr.  Wh.  Go*. 
(Jan.,  '85).  He  now  rides  a  54  in.  Victor,  the  same  which  served  him  in  making  the  long  record.- 
Lieaving  Folaom  and  Twenty-first  sts.  at  1.30  p.  m.  (May  2,  '85),  he  went  without  stop  to  San 
Jose  at  5.23, — a  route  which  had  never  before  been  done  without  dismount  or  in  so  short  a  time 
(51  m.  in  3  h.  53  sec),  and  he  did  not  leave  the  saddle  again  for  the  30  m.  to  Gilroy,  at  8.30. 
His  papsr  was  signed  at  the  start  by  C.  A.  Kellogg ;  at  Belmont  (23  m.  at  3.15)  by  A.  Walter- 
mire,  while  he  drded  slowly  around ;  at  San  Jose  by  A.  M.  Bogardus,  and  at  Gilroy  by  W.  H. 
Smith.  The  first  14  m.  is  rather  rough  and  hilly,  and  has  one  hill  which  few  riders  can  con- 
quer;  the  neat  9  m.  is  rolling  and  a  little  sandy ;  but  the  next  28  ol,  B.  to  S.  J.,  is  the  finest 
stretch  of  country  road  we  have,  and  hs  covered  it  at  very  nearly  the  rate  of  14  m.  per  h.  The 
other  route,  leading  down  the  e.  ude  of  the  bay  (Oakland  to  S.  J.)  oflEcrs  fewer  hills  but  poorer 
riding.  Thence  to  Gilroy  he  had  10  m.  of  fine  surface  and  20  m.  of  poor  patches.  Waiting  at 
G.  till  9,  for  the  moon  to  rise,  a  fog  cams  instead  and  then  a  wind  sprang  up  against  him,  so 
that  he  was  5  h.  on  his  way  back  to  S.  J.  (paper  signed  by  M.  Coselino  at  a  a.  m.),  and,  passing 
^(ain  through  Belmont,  reached  MiUbrae,  34^  m.,  at  6.14  A.  m.  (s^ed  by  J.  J.  Callahan),  being 
met  on  the  way  by  W.  M.  Meeker,  who,  after  breakfast,  accompanied  him  back  to  S.  J.  (signed 
at  10.30  by  G.  R.  Bailey),  where  dinner  was  taken,  and  the  final  return  made  to  Belmont,  27^ 
m.,  at  1.28  p.  M.  (signed  by  A.  Waltermire),  making  a  total  of  207^  m.,  in  19  h.  38  min.  of  ac- 
tual riding.  His  signers  all  resided  near  the  r.  r.  stations, where  the  time  is  kept  accurately,  and 
cofTcsponded  in  each  case  with  his  own  watch,  which  did  not  vary  a  minute.  He  had  probably 
done  1200  m.  of  road4iding,  this  year,  before  the  long  ride,  and  so  was  feeling  pretty  well ;  and 
he  attended  to  business  as  usual,  the  day  after  it,  without  showing  any  ugns  of  weariness." 

With  this  may  be  compared  the  straightaway  record  made  on  the  same  road  by  Joseph  L. 
Bley  (b.  Oct.  25,  1873),  whose  exploit  seems  to  place  him  well  ahead  of  all  other  k>ng-distance 
tourists  who  are  not  yet  a  dozen  years  old  I  The  following  story  is  condensed  from  his  letter  to 
me  of  Oct.  4,  '85  ;  "  My  bicycle  is  of  the  cheap  iron  kind  called  '  Ideal,'  38  iii.  and  38  lbs., 
and  I  first  began  riding  it  in  Aug.,  '84.  I  myself  weigh  62  lbs.  and  am  4  ft.  a\  in.  high.  I  often 
ride  after  school,  and  on  Sundays  make  longer  trips  into  the  country,^always  accompanied  by 
some  larger  person.  In  February  I  took  a  silver  medal  for  second  place  in  a  i  m.  race  for  boys 
under  t6,  and  was  only  \  sec.  behind  the  winner,  Geo.  Dixon,  aged  15,  who  rode  a  $>  in.  wheel, 


494  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

and  whose  time  was  4' 23!.  Encouraged  by  this,  I  coaxed  my  parents  to  let  me  attempt  a  bicy- 
cle tour  of  150  m.,  to  my  aunt's,  at  Salinas.  I  left  home  (Ellis  st.  and  Van  Ness  av.)  July  at,  at 
II  o'clock,  with  my  cousin,  Mr.  Gambttz,  and  we  got  to  San  Jose  at  5  p.  m.  (52  m.),  though  we 
stopped  a  minute  or  two  at  almost  every  station,  for  the  weather  was  hot  and  the  roads  were  dry. 
I  wore  a  flannel  suit,  with  canvas  shoes  and  a  straw  hat,  and  took  extra  underclothing  in  a  lug- 
gage-carrier. We  left  S.  J.  at  6  a.  m.  of  the  sad,  but  returned  again,  to  have  a  blacksmith  fix 
my  cousin's  bicycle,  whose  backbone  broke  at  the  head ;  and  we  spent  i  h.  in  clambering  to  the 
top  of  the  San  Juan  mtn.,  about  2  m.,  with  a  gale  of  ice-cold  wind  in  otu*  faces.  I  coasted 
down  at  a  terrible  rate,  going  so  fast  that  I  seemed  to  be  standing  still.  My  eyes  became  so 
bloodshot  I  could  hardly  see,  when  I  got  to  the  bottom,  and  stretched  myself  out  to  take  the 
ciamp  from  my  neck  and  fingers.  After  that,  everything  was  favorable  for  a  fast  ride,  and  we 
did  ride  fast,  until  finally,  at  a  bend  in  the  mountains,  the  dome  of  the  court  house  in  Salinas 
came  into  view.  Those  last  2  m.  seemed  the  longest  of  all,  but  we  finished  at  6.05  p.  m., — 
making  98  m.  for  the  la  h.  I  did  not  keep  count  of  the  distances  between  stations,  nor  of  the 
time  spent  in  rests.  I  was  not  at  all  used  up  by  the  ride,  and  I  started  a  few  days  later  for  Mon- 
terey, but  found  such  poor  roads  that  I  took  the  train  there.  I  used  to  wheel  the  10  m.  drive  be- 
fore breakfast.    If  I  get  a  ball-bearing  bicycle,  next  year,  I  mean  to  do  some  fast  riding." 

Philadelphia  has  a  Washington  Square  and  it  resembles  its  more  famous  namesake  of  New 
York  in  the  fact  of  being  bounded  on  one  side  by  Seventh  St., — "  Walnut,  Locust  and  Sixth  sts. 
form  its  other  three  borders.  It  is  now  well  kept,  with  grass-plots  and  pretty  flowers.  Its  big 
trees  are  historic.  The  pavement  is  of  flagstones,  which  are  pretty  even,  though  the  comers  au« 
somewhat  sharp.  Bicycling  within  its  limits  is  against  the  law,  but,  as  my  home  is  hardly  a 
stone's-throw  away  (aSi  S.  4th),  I  often  ride  there  at  night  after  10  o'clock,  and  no  one  ever 
tries  to  stop  me.  About  5  laps  make  i  m.,  and  the  swiftest  hour's  ride  I  ever  anywhere  took 
(r5  m.)  was  on  the  Square,  between  9  and  10,  Pt  m. ,  Jan.  2,  '8$. "  Such  was  the  answer  sent  to  my 
enquiry  by  a  rider  whose  total  record  (7500  m.)  represents  incomparably  more  touring  than  has 
been  accomplished  by  any  other  American  not  yet  20  years  old.  This  is  W.  B.  Page  (b.  Feb. 
23,  1866),  a  student  in  the  dass  of  '87  at  the  Univ.  of  .Penn.,  whose  recent  athletic  exploits  are 
matters  of  record  in  the  "  Clipper  Almanac."  Chief  of  these  was  the  **  running  high  jump  of 
6  ft.  \  in.  (5I  in.  higher  than  his  own  head),  whidi  ranks  as  the  third  best  in  the  world."  His 
bent  for  out-door  life  seems  hereditary,  as  his  father,  S.  Davis  Page,  was  an  enthusiastic  rowing 
man  at  Yale,  and  executive  chief  of  the  boat  club  during  the  year  of  his  graduation  ('59),  when 
the  first  crew  was  trained  that  ever  defeated  Harvard.  The  son  is  methodically  minded,  and 
(as  becomes  a  dweller  near  Washington  Square,  whose  wheeling  ideal  is  like  my  own,  "  a  con- 
tinuous straightaway  trail  through  unexplored  country  ")  has  kept  accurate  memoranda  of  his 
travels.  No  other  contributor  to  this  book  has  prepared  so  systematic  and  complete  a  story  con- 
cerning so  many  miles  of  roadway,  and  I  regret  the  need  of  omitting  from  it  a  number  of  inter> 
esting  details :  "  It  was  in  '79  that  I  bought  a  little  bone-shaker,  and  taught  myself  how  to 
ride,  in  Washington  Square.  I  took  it  with  me  to  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  where  I  spent  the 
next  two  summers,  and  rode  it  400  m.  there  in  '80  and  370  m.  in  '81.  My  best  record  was  la  m.  in 
I  h.,  Winchester  to  Millwood,  racing  with  a  hone  which  I  kept  ahead  of  until  the  last  400  yd&, 
when  he  drew  past.  In  May,  '82, 1  bought  a  5a  in.  Standard  Columtria  (No.  5730),  and  it  now 
leans  against  the  wall  where  I  write,  looking  not  much  the  worse  for  wear,  though  I  've  pushed 
it  6681  m. ,  in  7  different  States.  It  is  a  painted  machine,  whose  bright  parts  I  always  keep  dean 
and  free  from  rust,  and  I  hope  to  make  it  see  me  through  many  more  summer  (ours.  I  think 
its  present  tire,  which  has  a  two  years'  record  of  3897  m.,  will  last  another  season.  The  first 
tire  I  discarded  at  the  end  of  '83,  when  its  reoord  was  2784  in.  Outside  of  the  long  vacation 
tours  in  summer,  my  mileage  does  not  amount  to  much,  as  I  do  no  racing  and  cannot  often 
leave  my  university  studies  to  get  out  for  a  long  run.  I  train  for  jumping,  during  snch  leisure 
as  I  have  in  the  spring;  but  I  think  my  success  at  this  is  in  no  small  degree  due  to  my  indirect 
training  on  the  wheel.  My  touring  costume  consists  of  gray  shirt  and  breeches  (without  under- 
clothes), dark  stockings,  stout  shoes,  and  a  white  helmet  with  a  streamer  that  extends  8  or  so 
in.  back  of  my  head.    In  my  bs^,  I  carry  a  complete  cycling  suit  of  dark  blue,  white  flmnd 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         495 

shirt,  polo  cap,  pair  of  pampa,  nnderdodiing  and  toflet  articles,— ilie  whole  wngfaing  15  lbs.  or 
more.  The  bag  is  of  my  own  construction, — 18  in.  long  by  6  in.  deep,  and  tapermg  in  breadth 
frpm  10  m.  at  the  top  to  6  at  the  bottom,  with  the  tool-case  slung  below.  In  order  to  dear  all 
thia,  I  have  to  vault  bto  the  saddle,  but  I  account  that  the  quickest  and  therefore  the  best  way 
of  mounting  while  on  a  tour,  no  matter  what  the  surface  of  the  road  may  be.  As  I  enjoy  fine 
scenery,  I  plan  my  routes  to  indude  as  much  of  it  as  posuble ;  and  as  I  am  of  sodable  diqxMi- 
tioo,  I  also  endeavor  to  visit  a  goodly  number  of  summer  resorta,  The  outfit  in  my  bag  allows 
me  to  make  a  presentable  appearance  in  a  hotel-parlor  or  dandng-hall,  and  at  the  same  time  get 
my  riding  dothes  washed  for  the  next  day.    My  lamp  is  a  laige  sise  '  King  of  the  Road.* 

"  I  spent  the  summer  of  '8a  at  Winchester,  the  same  as  the  two  {Mrevious  ones;  and  while 
there  wheeled  to  Lexington  and  bode  (three  days  each  way,  with  a  week's  visit  to  fnends  be> 
tween),  a  round  trip  of  390  m.,  which  was  not  bad  for  a  boy  of  16.  My*  other  riding 
amounted  to  750  m.,  making  the  year's  mileage  1040.  The  first  day  of  my  tour  ended  at  New- 
market, 50  m.  in  la  h.  (8  h.  of  riding),  and  the  second  at  Suuoton,  44.  m.  The  36  m,  thence 
to  Lexington  is  a  roi^h  and  hilly  stretch  vdiidi  had  never  befcne  been  traversed  by  bicyde ; 
but  the  last  18  m.,  from  Midway,  is  partly  mac,  and  I  got  over  it  easily  in  3  h.  My  remark  to 
that  effect  was  twisted  by  some  one  into  a  declaration  that  I  rode  from  S.  itself  in  3  h.;  and  a 
trio  of  Washington  riders  who  came  over  the  ground  a  month  later  denounced  me  in  their  re- 
port in  the  WkeelmoH  for  making  so  preposterous  a  claim  (see  p.  349  for  quoted  allusion  to  'a 
cyding  Ananias ').  As  they  also  expressed  surprise  that  such  a  prodigious  tourist  should  '  have 
to  be  carried  to  the  Natural  &ridge  in  a  wagon,'  I  may  as  well  mention  the  fact  that  I  walked  to 
it  from  L.  and  bade  again  m  a  sing^  day  (a  round  trip  of  30  m.),  not  taking  my  whed  on  ac- 
count of  the  mud ;  and  that  I  covered  the  last  6  m.  in  i  h.  10  min.,  ^n^ch  rate  of  speed  I  hardly 
think  any  of  the  trio  would  have  iinpi'oved  upon,  as  they  preferred  to  take  train  from  the 
Bridge  back  to  Staunton.  I  might  well  have  returned  by  tnun  also,  for  I  had  a  wretched  day's 
tug  back  from  L  to  S.,  through  the  rain-soaked  day,  walking  all  but  a  m.  near  Fairfield.  In 
1883,  my  touring  was  somewhat  longer,— 4he  outward  trip  to  C^poo  Springs,  143  m.,  begin- 
ning  July  6,  and  the  homeward  trip  of  \^^\  m.  beginning  at  Winchester,  Sept-  7.  Between  tmiea, 
I  rode  30a  m.  in  Viiginia  (90  m.  by  lamp) ;  and  ray  home  wheeling  was  879  m.  for  the  firet  \ 
and  i5a|  m.  for  the  last  \  kA  the  year ;  so  that  my  total  mileage  for  '83  was  1748.  The  first  day, 
July  6, 1  wheeled  40  m.  to  Coateaville ;  and  on  the  7th,  though  rain  fell  all  day,  I  might  have  got  to 
Lancaster  by  keeping  to  the  pike,  but  I  tried  the  muddy  Valley  road,  and  had  to  stop  at  the 
Gap,  13  ro.  On  the  8th,  i  went  17^  m.  for  breakfast  at  L.;  34  m.  for  a  late  dinner  at  York 
at  6  p.  M.,  and  then  i8|  m.  to  New  Oxford, — the  final  half  by  lamp.  On  the  9th,  I  was  3  h. 
in  doing  10  m.  of  poor  road  toGettysbuig ;  then  from  4  to  6  p.  m.  on  the  next  10  m  to  the  foot  of 
the  Blue  Ridge,  wfaidi  I  wheeled  up  for  3^  m.  with  less  trouble  than  I  descended  to  Fayetteville, 
-Mhoi^  I  maule  no  dismount  for  that  final  10  m.  of  perfectly  strange  road  except  to  light  my 
lamp  on  the  summit.  On  the  xoth,  by  6  m.  of  limestone  pike  to  Chambersbuig  (p.  344)  and  1 1  m. 
of  mud  road  to  Greencastle.  On  the  nth,  in  i|h.  to  Williamsport,  14  m.,  with  only  one  dis- 
mount; the  next  14  ra.  to  Martinsburg  in  if  h.;  and  Winchester,  33  m.,  at  6  p.  m.,  though  I 
took  the  wrong  road  for  4  m.  oat  of  M.  A  few  dajrs  after  this,  I  wheeled  to  Capon  Springs 
and  bad(,  a  round  trip  of  58  m.,  of  which  the  first  13  m.  on  the  Roraney  pike  was  good,  and 
the  last  1 1  m.,  beyond  Rock  Erin  Springs,  was  very  bad.  I  was  the  first  man  to  push  a  bicy- 
de through  to  either  place.  lighting  my  lamp  at  Winchester  at  3  a.  m.  of  Sept.  7, 1  passed 
Maitiosbuig  at  5.15,  and  halted  50  min.  for  breakfast  at  Williamsport  (36  m.)  at  7.50;  then 
through  Hagerstown  (6  m.),  Greencastle  (13  m.,  partly  bad  day)  and  Manon  to  Chambersbutg 
(ri  oil)  for  dinner  at  1.30;  then  a  tough  pull  over  the  mountains  for  36  m.  to  Gettysburg,  3  to 
7.45  p.  M.,  for  supper ;  finaUy,  by  lamp,  7.45  to  9.30,  across  a  wretched  rood,  to  New  Oxford 
(Ea^  Hotel)— 'irith  a  total  straightaway  mileage  of  lot,  to  represent  14  h.  of  riding.  Dur- 
ing next  two  days,  I  wheeled  43}  m.  to  Lancaster,  and  then  39  m.  from  Coatesville  to  Bryn 
Mawr,— die  constant  downpour  forcing  roe  to  take  cars  for  the  intermediate  distances. 

"  hi  1884,  my  outward  trip,  July  3-33,  led  to  Pitubuig  (the  first  one  ever  taken  from  end 
to  end  of  Penns]ivania)  and  thence  to  Winchester,  $$3  m.;  my  homeward  trip,  Sept.  9-13, 


496  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

was  zi\\  ID.;  and  between  the  two  I  rode  665  m.  in  Virginia,--niaking  1399I  ^'ot  the  vacatioa. 
As  I  rode  546  m.  for  the  first  \  of  the  year  and  176^  m.  for  the  last  i,  my  total  mileage  for  '84 
was  2132.  The  dates  and  lodging-places  of  my  Pittsbiu^  tour,  with  hours  of  actual  travel, 
were  aa  follows:  July  2,6.15  a.  m.  to  5.50  p.  if.,  Paradise,  57^  m.,  8|  h.;  3d,  4.35  a.  m.  to 
7.35  p.  M.,  Duncannon,  65^  m.,  lo^  h.;  4th,  5.20  A.  m.  to  4  p.  m.,  canal  lock  near  Lewiston 
Narrows,  40  m.,  7^  h.;  5th,  5.30  to  7.50  a.  m.,  Lewiston,  9  m.;  6th,  3  to  6.45  p.  m.,  AUenville, 
32  m.;  7th,  4  A.  M.  to  3. 10  p.  M.,  Altoona,  50 m.,  9  h.  (I  then  took  train  15  m.  to Cresson  Springs, 
m  order  to  enjoy  from  the  car^windows  the  fine  scenery  of  the  Horse  Shoe  Curve,  which  I 
should  have  missed  if  I  had  wheeled  along  the  Portage  road,  though  this  is  easily  ridable) ;  8th, 

1  to 6.20  p.  M.,  Johnstown,  29  m.,  4^  h.;  9th,  12.30  to 6.35  p  m.,  Blairsville,  aS^  m.,  5  h.;  xoth, 
4.55  A.  M.  to  1.45  P.  M.,  Pittsburg  (Monongahela  House),  38  m.,  8  h.  This  total  of  339}  m.  in 
crossing  the  Slate  really  represents  but  6  days  of  riding.  I  resumed  my  journey  July  12, 2. 15  to  7 
p.  M.,  Washington,  34  m.;  X3th,  2. 50 to 7.20 p.m.,  Brownsville,  24  m.  (by  Old  National  Pike, 
still  well  kept  and  having  huge  iron  m.  posts,  6  ft.  high,  at  3  m.  intervals) ;  14th,  5.30  a.  m.  to  i 
p.  M.,  Connellsville,  25!  m.  (where,  as  the  rogul  which  I  'd  been  told  was  '  good  for  23  m.,'  was 
in  fact  closed,  I  took  train  to  Somerset,  though  I  might  easily  have  wheeled  there  by  the  other 
route  from  Uniontown);  15th,  9.30  a.  m.  to  6.50  p.  m.,  Bedford,  40  m.,  7  h.;  z6th,  Bedford 
Springs,  am.,  \  h.;  17th,  9.45  a  m.  to 6.30  p.  m.,  Werefordsburg,  40  m.,  7  h.;  i8th,  8.50  a.  m.  to 
12.45  I*  M.,  Berkeley  Springs,  10  m,  1  h.  (last  6  m.,  from  the  Potomac,  opp.  Hancock,  fine  rid- 
ing; see  p.  239);  aist,  i  to  8.30  p.  m.,  farm-house  5  m.  beyond  Pughtown,  34  m.,  6h. ;  aad, 
Winchester,  4  ni.  in  ^  h.  at  6.45  a.  m.  This  made  553  m.  from  Phila.,  and  represented  between 
10  and  II  full  riding  days,  about  which  I  now  add  a  few  details.  On  July  3,  fine  riding  with- 
out dismount,  Lancaster  to  Mountjoy,  12  m.;  rough  and  mountainous  to  Middletown,  15m.; 
good  surface  and  scenery  along  the  river  to  Harrisburg,  9  m.,  and  Dauphin,  9  m.,  where  1 1  r. 
over  the  mountams,  crossed  the  river  at  Clark's  Ferry,  8  m.,  and  then  went  down  it  to  Duncan- 
non.  Good,  but  mountainous  road  led  on  4th  to  Newport,  16  m.,  where  I  crossed  the  Juniata,  and 
mde  up  it  on  fine  surface  for  5  m.;  took  tow-path,  15  m.  beyond,  to  get  through  the  Lewiston  Nar- 
rows, but  found  It  in  wretched  condition,  on  account  of  overflows ;  was  forced  by  rain  storm  to 
spend  the  night  in  a  lock-house,  and  took  3  headers  into  the  canal,  next  morning,  after  whidi  I 
walked  8  m.  to  L.,  and  waited  during  the  day  for  my  clothes  to  be  washed.  I  also  bent  a  pedal- 
pin  by  a  fall.    Mountain-climbing,  through  fine  scenery,  was  the  rule  on  the  7th,  when  I  walked 

2  m.  up  Bald  Elagle  mtn.,  the  steepest  grade  of  the  tour,  and  then  down  again ;  and  my  nmteon 
the  8th  was  mostly  traversed  on  foot,  with  mistaken  detour,  and  nothing  to  eat.  Walking  was 
again  needed  on  the  9th,  though  there  were  some  ridable  stretches  of  cinders  along  the  r.  r., 
and  4^  m.  of  fair  tow-path ;  but  the  fine  scenery  of  the  Pack  Saddle  on  the  Conemaugh, 
where  the  rushing  river  makes  the  mountauns  resound  with  a  perpetual  roar,  well  repaid  tlie 
long  tramp  on  rough  ballasL  The  grandest  scenery  of  the  tour  was  at  the  summit  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  where  I  spent  3  h.  at  midday  on  the  15th,  and  afterwards,  in  descending,  was  hindered 
somewhat  by  showers.  On  the  17th,  from  Bedford  to  Everett,  8  m.,  and  Clearville,  9  mu,  I 
found  good  surface  (last  stretch  mountainous),  but  broke  a  pedal-pin,  which  I  at  once  replaced 
by  a  new  one ;  and  atfterwards  cracked  my  handle-bar  and  knocked  my  rear  wheel  out  of  true, 
—these  mishaps  being  caused  by  the  working  loose  tA  my  bag,  which  gave  me  two  bad  head- 
ers. Noble  views  are  to  be  had  from  the  tower  on  the  mountain-top  at  Berkeley  Springs,  and 
also  from  various  points  on  the  trail  which  I  followed  thence  throi^h  the  mountains,  on  the  aist, 
to  Pughtown, — riding  through  many  small  creeks,  and  one  deep  one,  some  40  yds.  wide,  witboot 
a  fall.  After  the  first  8  ro.  of  ridable  day,  much  of  this  road  led  through  heavy  forests  and  un- 
inhabited fields,  and  where  its  middle  was  not  overgrown  with  grass  the  big  stones  were  abun- 
dant. My  bed  that  night  consisted  of  six  chairs  in  a  farmer's  kitchen."  (See  p.  344  for  aooount 
of  W.  W.  Darnell's  1000  m.  tour  of  '83,  whose  route  coincided  in  parts  with  this  one.) 

"  The  longest  day's  rides  included  in  the  665  m.  recorded  during  my  stay  at  W.  were  roond- 
trips  to  Harper's  Ferry,  52  m.;  Martinsburg,  44  m.;  Upperville  (twice  over  the  Bine  Ridge),  90 
m.,  Rock  Enon  Springs,  36  m.,  and  C^pon  Springs,  which  latter  I  will  describe  tir  detail 
Starting  at  7.45  a.  M.,  I  found  the  Romney  pike  good  mac.  for  5  m.  to  Round  hDl,  v^Mre  it 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS. 


497 


changes  to  red  slate,  also  fine,  and  I  coasted  down  the  w.  slope  of  Little  North  mtn.  through 
fine  scenery.  The  creek  which  I  forded  6  times  in  the  la  m.  from  W.  to  the  cross-roads  (i  h.) 
was  not  stony,  and  gave  slight  trouble,  but  I  had  to  ford  it  later,  on  foot,  at  8  different  places. 
At  the  cross-roads  It.  I.,  and  found  fine  surface  for  4  m.  and  then  rather  sandy  to  the  fork,  i^ 
m.,  where  1 1.  r.,  by  direction  of  guide-board,  and  found  3  m.  more  of  good  riding,  and  after> 
wards  a  direct  road,  along  steep  and  stony  ridges,  where  the  scenery  compensated  for  the  walk- 
ing and  the  forests  supplied  pleasant  shade,  to  Capon  Springs,  at  noon.  If  I  had  1. 1.  at  the 
fork  and  gone  |  m.  over  the  ridge,  I  should  have  reached  Rock  Enon  Springs ;  and  I  returned 
in  \\  h.  from  that  fork  to  Winchester,  17}  m.,  whereof  the  last  la  m.  was  done  without  dis- 
mount, though  mostly  up-grade.  On  Sept.  9,  I  left  W.  at  a.  10  a.  m.  and  reached  the  National 
Hotel  in  Washington  at  5  p.  M.,  76  m.  in  11}  h.  of  the  hottest  day  in  the  year.  I  had  nearly  a 
full  moon,  but  my  lamp  helped  where  trees  made  deep  shade.  At  4  m.  I  forded  the  Opequon 
on  foot;  passed  Berryville  (6  m.)  at  3.30,  and  at  4  got  to  Candleman's  Ferry,  4^  m.,  where  I 
bad  ao  min.  delay  in  being  poled  across  the  Shenandoah  (see  p.  383) ;  then  climbed  the  steep 
Blue  Ridge,  and  at  6.as  got  to  Round  Hill  p.  o.,  whence  the  road  was  good  for  la  m.  through 
Purcellville  and  Hamilton  to  Leesburg  at  8.30,  where  stopped  i  h.  for  breakfast ;  crossed  the 
Potomac  at  Edward*s  Ferry,  at  10.30,  and  had  dirt  road  thence  for  17  m.  to  Great  Falls  of  the 
Potomac  (dinner  1.30  to  a. 30);  then  went  by  Cabin  John's  Bridge  and  Georgetown  to  the  finish 
at  5.  Two  days  later,  I  wheeled  to  the  Soldiers'  Home,  Brigfatwood,  Colesville  and  Ashton,  aa 
m.  (3. 15  to  6.30  p.  M.),  and  was  well  cared  for  over  night  ^  Mr.  Stabler's  (p.  376).    Starting  at 

7  A.  M.  on  the  lath,  in  a  light  rain,  I  walked  on  a  muddy  and  up-hill  road  most  of  the  way  to 
Clarksville,  reached  Ellicott  City,  15  m.  on,  at  9.50,  and  Baltimore,  9  ro.,  at  la.ao,  and  by  a 
wretched  and  mostly  unridable  road  to  a  private  house  in  Abington,  at  6.10  p.  m.,  with  a  day's 
record  of  50  m.  On  the  13th,  I  found  a  good  clay  road  through  Aberdeen  to  Havre  de  Grace, 
13  m.  in  i)  h.;  crossed  the  river  by  train,  and  then  had  to  walk  through  16  m.  of  heavy  sand  to 
Elkton ;  whence  I  rode  ao}  m.  to  Wilmington,  3.30  to  5.50  p.  m.,  and  took  the  cars  for  home. 

"  In  1885,  ray  touring  from  July  aa  to  Sept.  14  amounted  to  1166^  m.     I  only  rode  150  m. 
afterwards,  and  my  mileage  for  the  first  \  of  the  year  (458^  m.)  was  without  mishap,  except  the- 
occasional  breaking  of  a  pedal-pin ;  but  it  included  67  m.  ridden  on  snow,  and  the  earliest  15  m.. 
of  all  (Jan.  a,  in  Washington  Square,  9  to  10  p.  m.)  was  the  longest  distance  I  ever  covered  in 
I  h.    The  record  for  the  year  was  thus  1775  m.,  raising  my  total  mileage  to  7451,  exclusive  of 
what  little  I  wheeled  in  '79.     My  tour  of  '85  led  first  to  the  Catskills,  thus :    July  aa,  5  a.  m.  to* 
8.15  p.  M.,  Centerville,  69  m.,  11}  h. ;  a3d,  6  a.  m.   to  7.15  p.  m.,  Guymard  Springs,  6oim., 
^\  h. ;  24th,  4  A.  M.  to  7.ao  p.  m.,  Hyde  Park,  s8f  m.,  8}  h. ;  asth,  8  a.  m.  to  8.15  p.  m.,  Cats- 
kill  Mtns.,  43I  m.,  8  h. ;  37th,  6.40  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m.,  35]  m.,  6}  h. ;  31st,  la  to  6.45  p.  m.,  Delhi,, 
33  m.,  5I  h. ;  Aug.  i,  5.45  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m.,  W«t  Coventry,  48  m.,  9  h. ;  ad,  4  to  8.15  p.  m.,. 
Lisle,  aa  m.,  3}  h. ;  3d,  6.10  a.  m.  to  a  p.  m.,  Ithaca,  33  m.,  6  h. ;  lath,  at  Williamsport,  5  m. ; 
13th,  8.40  A.  M.  to  7.15  p.  M.,  Berwick,  46^  m.,  6f  h. ;  14th,  8.30  a.  m.  to  4  p.  m.,  Drifton,  34 
ni.,  3i  h. ;  isth  toa3d,  detours,  28  m. ;  a4th,  4  to  8  P.  M.,  Tamaqua,  33  m.,  3}  h. ;  asth,  4  a.  m. 
to  s>3o  P.  M.,   Shellsburg,  60  m.,  9I  h. ;    36th,  5  a.  m.  to  5.40  p.  m.,  Chambersburg,  66  m.,  9} 
h. ;  a7th,  8.45  a.  m.  to  4.30  p.  m.,  Martinsburg,  40I  m.,  6  h. ;  38th,  13.30  a.  m.  to  11.15  ^'  m.,  to* 
Staunton  and  back  to  Harrisonburg,  141  m.,  t8  h. ;  39th,  12.30  to  11  p.  m.,  Winchester,  68^  m.,. 

8  h. ;  31st,  near  W.,  39  m. ;  Sept.  ti,  3.30  to  7.30  p.  m.,  Williamsport,  37  m.,  3f  h. ;  13th,  8.3o* 
A.  M.  to  7.45  p.  M.,  York,  69^  m.,  9^  h. ;  13th,  3.45  to  7.30  p.  m..  Paradise,  34  m.,  4  h. ;  t4th, 
Philadelphia,  57  m.,  8  h.  (ts  h.  on  the  rbad).    Considering  the  obstacles  encountered  on  my  3}- 
days'  ride  of  33 1  m.  to  the  Catskills,  I  think  the  daily  average  of  60  m.  a  good  one.    At  the 
start,  after  doing  le  m.  to  Willow  Grove,  I  went  without  dismount  13  m.  to  my  first  breakfast  ;- 
and  from  Pipersville,  10  m.,  to  Bucksville,  ^\  m.,  had  a  good  clay  road,  well  shaded;  from* 
Kintnersville,  4  m.,  had  good  tow-path  to  Uhlersville,  6|  m. ;  beyond  Easton,  5  m.,  the  scenery- 
atones  for  the  hilly  and  sandy  river-road.    The  riding  continued  generally  poor  through  the 
Water  Gap  to  Bushkill ;  whence  it  was  of  course  fine  to  Port  Jervis ;  and  from  there  I  went  on 
excellent  shale  5  m.  n.,  and  then  t.  r.  over  the  valley  and  up  the  mountains  1}  m.  to  Guymard 
Springs,  for  my  second  night.    On  the  34th,  I  had  a  beautiful  nsoming  ride  for  4  m.  down  the 

32 


498  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCI 

intn.y  and  then  8  m.  to  Middletown,  at  5.40 ;  but,  about  6  m.  beyond  (when  I  su( 
machine,  after  making  a  quidc  dismount)  the  backbone,  heavily  weighted  with 
around  against  the  head  with  such  force  as  to  bend  the  r.  fork  half-way  throUf. . 
go  cautiously  to  Newbui^g,  18^  m.,  where  I  waited  for  repairs  from  10.30  to  3. , 
the  Hudson,  and  kept  along  its  e.  bank  to  Hyde  Park,  doing  the  last  6^  m.,  fit  . 
in  I  h.  without  dismount  (p.  196).    At  Rhinebeck,  on  the  asth,  I  t.  1.  for  the  ili 
road  which  brought  me  to  Germantown,  where  I  was  taken  across  the  river  in  u 
caught  in  a  thunderstonn,  which  made  the  clay  so  muddy  that  I  walked  the  8 
whznce  at  sunset  I  ascended  the  Kaaterskill  Clove  (see  p.  188),  and  after  v 
mountains  by  moonlight  (Laurel  House).    On  the  27th,  I  traversed  36  m.  n 
roads,  through  Tannersville  and  Phcenida,  ending  at  the  Grand  Hotel,  25 - 
water.    About  13  m.  before  this,  a  sand  rut  threw  me  into  a  fence  and  badly  I^ 
that  I  spent  4  h.  in  taking  out  and  replacing  the  spokes,  to  get  it  into  rida* 
waited  then  till  the  31st  for  the  machine  to  take  a  trip  to  Phila.  for  repairs.     I 
m.  to  Delhi  very  good,  but,  on  Aug.  x,  walked  thence  6  m.  up  the  mtn.,  and  f<  ' 
road  to  Franklin,  whence  good  riding  was  the  rule  to  Unadilla,  10  m.,  and  V- 
followed  by  9  m.  hilly  and  sandy  to  West  Coventry.    On  the  ad,  obeying  my  r. 
to  ride  but  a  few  h.,  towards  night, — I  went  down-grade  to  Greene,  7  m.,  and  tf'> 
whence  1 1.  r.  up  the  creek,  out  of  ray  course,  for  the  sake  of  the  good  road  to  I 
in  spite  of  rains  which  spoiled  the  roads,  I  traversed  31  m.  to  Ithaca,  and  was 
5  p.  M.,  on  the  way  to  Watkins,  when  the  backbone  snapped  ofiF  close  up  to  ili 
"  This  was  the  first  serious  break  ray  bicycle  ever  had  (record,  5752  m.) ;  so  t 
to  Philadelphia  for  repairs.    At  Williamsport,  where  I  rejoined  it  on  the  12th, 
feied  and  caused  a  halt,  after  5  m. ;  and  when  this  was  remedied,  on  the  13th 
was  fixed  at  Newburg  gave  way,  and  another  repairer  made  a  bad  job  of  it ;  n. 
46  m.,  mostly  on  hilly  and  sandy  roads.    On  the  14th,  I  crowed  the  Susquehau 
climb  of  4I  m.  up  the  Nescopedc  mtn.  on  the  way  to  Conyngham,  and  anothet 
Bucks  mtn. ;  and  found  the  best  riding  op  the  4  m.   stretch  of  slag  and  ci 
Drifton ;  whence,  on  the  24lh  a  good  road  took  me  to  Hazleton,  in  a  drizzle  i> 
amid  fine  mountain  scenery  to  Tamaqua.     My  route  from  there  (see  p.  342 
longer  route  from  T.  to  Harrisbuxg),  on  25th,  was   to  Heda,  8  m.;    0> 
Schuylkill  Haven,  4^  m. ;  whence  to  Pine  Grove,  14  m.,  I  wheeled  in  i  h., — ; 
the  tour, — along  a  beautiful  valley  whose  almost  level  clay  road  was  slightU 
morning's  rain,  while  the  surface  of  the  next  5  m.  to  Mifflin  was  finer  yet.     I  i.. 
crossing  the  river  here,  for  I  found  a  very  sandy  road ;  and  a  terrible  thunderstor 
Union  Foige,  in  the  gap  of  Blue  mtn.,  and  msi^e  such  mud  that  I  couldn't  rii. 
that  finished  my  60  m.  run  at  Shellsbuxg.     Mud  was  also  a  hindrance  in  getting  . 
burg,  \\\  m.,  for  breakfast,  on  the  26th,  but  I  rode  from  there  to  Chambers. . 
tween  9130  a.   m.   and  5.40  p.  h.     Leaving  Martinsbuiig  \  h.  after  mtdni^i 
reached  Fisher's  hill,  42  m.,  at  sunrise,  though  much  loose  mac.  had  been  sprc. 
half  of  the  distance, — the  longest  moonlight  run  of  ray  experience.     I  breakfa^ . 
1 1  m.  (7  to  8.30  o'clock),  and  left  my  luggage-bag  there;  then  had  fine  road  to  . 
In  li  h.,  and  covered  the  last  14  m.  without  stop.     Harrisonburg,  i8(  m.,  wa 
and  I  pushed  the  wheel  25^  m.  thence  to  Staunton,  2.30  to  6  p.  m.,  though  n 
laid  all  the  way  except  the  first  3  m.,  and  much  walking  was  enforced.''    ' 
longest  4  days'  straightaway  ride  yet  taken  in  America  (282  m.  from  Tamaqu. 
next  to  it  being  H.  J.  High's  254  m.,  from  near  Staunton  to  Pottsville,  sec  i 
ished  the  longest  3  days'  straightaway  (222  m.  from  Chambersbuig),  the  best  : 
H.  S.  Wood's  215  m.,  S.  to  Columbia;  see  pp.  3x7,388.]    "Resting  10  mi- 
pleting  116  m.,  I  turned  about  and  had  traversed  8  m.  more  at  7.15,  when  I  f 
which  had  been  twice  badly  mended,  had  again  broken  loose,  from  bumping  tiiKi 
I  wasted  \  h.  in  the  vain  effort  to  make  it  rigid  with  wires,  and  also  halted 
9.    Afterwards,  I  tried  the  saddle  by  short  stretches  in  the  moonlight,  and  ;> 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 

Bashfulness  has  been  defined  as  "  vanity  tamed  wrong-slde-out,"  or  a 
sort  of  mental  awkwardness  resulting  from  the  belief  that  one's  little  errors 
and  defects  of  behavior  are  closely  observed  by  others.     In  fact,  hon-evcr, 
not  much  philosophy  is  needed  to  convince  a  man  that  the  self-absorption  of 
those  others  prevents  them  from  noticing  his  faults,  just  as  inevitably  as  it  pre- 
vents them  from  recognizing  his  merits.    They  have  no  enei^  to  waste  in 
keeping  a  careful  watch  upon  any  one  who  is  not  of  extraordinary  consequence. 
To  assume  their  disapproval,  therefore,  is  hardly  more  modest  than  to  as- 
sume their  approval ;  for  the  basis  of  each  assumption  must  needs  be  the 
notion   that   one's    presence    is  of  that    exceptional    importance    which   has 
power  to  stir  them  from  their  usual  unobservant  attitude  of  profound  indif- 
ference.    My  object  in  mentioning  these  things  is  to  make  cleat  what  I  mean 
by  the  theory  that  the  admitted  difficulty  of  procuring  personal  statistics  is 
probably  due  to  the  fact  that  most  men  are  either  boastful  or  bashful.    The 
former  hate  to  lay  aside  the  long-bow  for  the  pen,  and  to  reduce  their  glitter- 
ing generalities  to  exact  statements,  with  dates  and  details,  which  may  be  in- 
vestigated.   The  bashful  men,  on  the  other  hand,  hale  to  publish  the  simplest 
facts  about  themselves,  out  of  dread  lest  the  act  be  taken  for  boastfulness. 
They  are  afraid  that  the  whole  world  will  halt  from  its  customary  business, 
in  order  to  point  the  finger  of  scorn  at  them  for  presuming  to  put  on  record 
such  personal  details  as  might,  in  the  case  of  a  very  famous  man,  attract  the 
whole  world's  interest.    It  is  hard  to  disabuse  them  of  this  silly  notion,  and 
to  make  them  realize  that  the  interest  of  statistics  is  a  purely  scientific  and 
impersonal  one.     It  is  ieaaue  they  are  of  no  possible  account,  as  individual 
atoms,  to  the  world  at  large,  that  their  stories,  when  grouped  together,  make 
an  interesting  aggregate  which  is  o£ 
may  care  for  the  doings  of  "  an  av< 
is  a  personage  who  claims  some  sha 
the  function  of  personal  statistics  t< 
I  ask  John  Smith,  and  Tom  Browi 
birthdays  alongside  their  wheeling  i 
dates  have  any  personal  interest  o 
^uaintance  ;  but  because  of  their  at 
ing  determine  the  average  age  at  wh 
It  would  not  be  strictly  true  for 
and  energy  in  persuading  thirty  cycl 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS, 


501 


The  tourist  who  has  best  combined  business  with  pleasure,  by  wheeling  over  the  longest 
stretches  of  American  roadway  while  in  the  discharge  of  his  appointed  duties,  is  Edward  R. 
Drew(b.  1851),  who  became  a  rider  in  Nov.,  *79»  &n<l  has  been  employed  pretty  steadily  since 
then  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  to  establish  hundreds  of  agencies  for  the  sale  of  their  machines, 
and,  incidentally,  to  paint  the  monster  signs  which  proclaim  "  Columbia  Bicycles  "  to  the  train- 
passengers  near  large  cities.     His  first  road-ride  was  in  March,  '80,  on  a  48  in.  wheel,  from 
Albany  to  Buffalo ;  then  Niagara  to  Cleveland ;  Toledo  to  Ann  Arbor ;  Jackson ;  Lansing ; 
Chicago ;  Indianapolis ;  Milwaukee  to  Oconomowoc  and  the  lakes ;  Chicago  to  Joliet,  Bloom- 
ington,  Peoria,  Springfield,  Alton  and  St.  Louis  (Aug.  and  Sept.) ;  train  to  Indianapolis ;  thence 
by  wheel  to  Lima,  Belief onUine,  Springfield,  Dayton,  Hamilton  and  Cincinnati ;  afterwards  to 
Xenia  and  Urbana;  total,  2800  m.     In  '81,  he  rode  3600;  '82,  4000;  '83,  5960,— making  his 
mileage  for  the  four  years  16,260.     New  Orleans  and  Chattanooga  were  visited  in  '82 ;  and  his 
route  of  '83  began  at  N.  Y.,  May  30,  and  extended  during  3  months  through  8  States  as  fol- 
lows :    "  Morristown,  Port  Jervis,  Del.  Water  Gap,  Scranton  (thence  by  gravity  r.  r.  to  Hones- 
dale),  Binghamton,  Elmira,  Coming,  Batavia,  Rochester,  Lockport,  Niagara,  Buffalo,  Erie, 
Cleveland,  Oberlin,  Medina,  Akron,  Cleveland,  Akron,  Massillon,  Canton,  Columbus,  Spring- 
field, Urbana,  Bellefontaine,  Sidney,  Springfield,  Columbus  (also  S.  to  C.  by  train),  Springfield, 
Cincinnati,  Mt.  Vernon,  Louisville,  Lexington,  Maysville,  Xenia,  Newark,  Wheeling  (train  to 
N.  Y.,  about  Sept.  i),  New  Haven,  Hartford  and  Springfield."    I  extorted  these  statistics 
from  him  on  a  hot  May  afternoon  in  '84,  while  we  rested  by  the  road-side,  a  few  miles  out  of 
Washington,  before  spinning  back  again  towards  the  great  white  dome.    I  think  a  threatened 
shower  was  what  induced  me  to  postpone  my  enquiries  as  to  his  routes  of  '8x  and  '82  ;  and  per- 
haps the  rain  and  heat  combined  to  destroy  his  recollection  of  the  agreement  about  copying  from 
his  log-books,  for  my  benefit,  the  exact  details  of  his  four  years'  riding.    At  all  events,  no  such 
record  has  ever  reached  me ;  and,  in  lade  of  it,  I  am  forced  to  offer  this  entirely  inadequate  ac- 
count of  a  man,  who  has  the  materials  for  telling  a  very  long  and  interesting  story  about  the 
roads  he  has  got  acquainted  with  in  wheeling  ao,ooo  m.  on  a  bicycle.    I  hope  he  may  have  the 
story  ready  for  insertion  in  "  My  Second  Ten  Thousand  "  I    Meanwhile,  I  present  his  testimony 
that  the  roads  ol  Ohio — ^which  he  has  perhaps  tried  more  thoroughly  than  any  one  else — are  of 
more  than  average  excellence ;  also  the  testimony  of  his  friends  that  he  has  a  more  than  average 
faculty  for  forcing  the  bicycle  to  serve  as  baggage-carrier.    Loading  it  down  with  a  photographer's 
camera,  paint-pots  and  other  bulky  trappings,  he  will  drive  it  along  as  unconcernedly  as  an  ordi- 
nary man  will  drive  an  unencumbered  machine.     I  believe  his  only  serious  accident  (an  injury  to 
the  wrist,  early  in  '85)  resulted  from  slipping  on  the  ice  while  thus  Uden.     In  the  routes  given, 
a  semi-colon  signifies  a  brief  resort  to  the  cars ;  otherwise,  his  wheeling  was  continuous. 

Will  P.  Cramer  (b.  Apr.  13,  1863),  League  consul  at  Albia,  la.,  engaged  in  a  good  deal  of 
long-distance  bicycling  in  '85,  starting  out  for  the  West,  June  28,  with  a  goods-wagon,  which  he 
employed  another  young  man  to  drive,  while  he  himself  generally  went  ahead  on  the  bi.,  and  took 
advance  orders  for  the  goods.  In  case  of  bad  roads  or  weather,  the  wagon  supplied  him  with 
transportation.  I  omit,  for  lack  of  space,  the  story  of  his  earlier  travels,  and  give  only  the  con- 
clusion of  them,  when  his  56  in.  Columbia  made  a  long  straightaway  trail,  at  a  very  rapid  rate, 
thus:  McCook,  Neb.,  Aug.  12  at  9  a.  m.,  to  Denver,  Col.,  Aug.  14  at  10.45  A-  m.,  ther.  r.  dis- 
tance being  255  m.,  and  the  route  actually  traversed  being  somewhat  shorter,  though  he  carried 
no  cydom.  His  report  to  me,  Jan.  6,  '85,  says:  "  From  Culbertson,  12  m.  out,  I  found  good 
roads  for  22  m.  to  Stratton  (dinner) ;  and  between  12.45  ^^^  ^-35  >*•  m.,  I  wheeled  from  S.  through 
Benkleman,  19  m.,  Haigler,  21m.,  and  Laird,  9  m.,  to  Wray,  7  m., — making  89  ra.  forthe  day.  I 
had  to  go  through  some  cafions,  but  did  n't  strike  any  but  what  I  could  ride  up,  by  taking  a  good 
run.  In  fact,  all  the  going  was  good.  On  the  ijtb,  I  finished  breakfast  in  time  to  start  at  6.30; 
passed  through  EU^kley,  15m.,  and  at  »«MjMMHft||^UlM' 4mw  at  Akron,  19  m.;  then  went 
through  Pinneo,  13  m..  Brush,  is  vBk»^y^/^^^^^^^^///lggftgig$,w^/iglg/I^Jl^VH sulk- 
ing 1x9  m.  for  the  day.  On  the  14 
fast ;  then  went  through  Barr, 
along  the  Union  Padfic  r.  r.'qpi 


504  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Sept.  ii-ia,  V9(»«e  P-  a^),  and  his  description  of  it,  handsomely  illustrated,  io  Scrilmer's  (Feb., 
'80),  was  the  first  specimen  of  cycling  literature  which  attracted  much  attention  from  the  general 
public.  It  was  reproduced  in  the  IVkselmaH  afterwards.  From  his  letter  to  me  (Jan.  9,  »86 ; 
hastily  written  in  response  to  my  threat  that  I  should  destroy  him  with  dynamite  unless  be  forth- 
with contributed  something  for  this  chapter),  I  extract  the  following:  •*  My  help  to  the  cause 
of  cycling  has  been  given  in  these  ways:  (i)  As  a  member  of  the  Boston  city  government,  I 
was  able  to  do,  and  did  do,  more  than  any  one  else,  to  save  the  righU  of  wheelmen  in  that  dty, 
and  throughout  the  State  of  Mass.;  and  also,  by  instituting  the  •4th  of  July  bi,  races '  under 
city  auspices,  to  give  racing  a  hold  on  the  support  of  the  substantial  classes  in  the  community. 
(2)  As  author  of  *  The  American  Bicycler  *  I  gave  a  ready  source  of  information  to  writers  in 
the  public  press,  who  not  only  resorted  to  it  for  facts  but  also  took  from  it  their  tone  of  writing 
seriously  about  the  subject.  The  book,  furthermore,  was  the  direct  means  of  making  many 
professional  and  elderly  men  s^Jopt  the  bicycle.  I  began  it  in  the  autumn  of  '78  and  finished  in 
the  spring  of  '79*  though  I  can*t  tell  how  many  solid  hours  I  spent  upon  it  Houghton,  Osgood 
&  Co.  issued  the  first  edition  (aooo  copies  at  ;^i)and  I  netted  1^97. 50  from  the  sale  of  these ;  whUe 
from  the  ad  ed.  (3000  copies  at  50  c.)  I  received  $100.  Both  issues  were  cloth-bound  and  are 
now  out  of  print.  (3)  I  proposed  and  promoted  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen ;  drew  its 
constitution ;  served  as  its  first  president  for  nearly  two  years ;  and  have  done  active  work  for  it 
ever  since.  I  am  still  an  active  member  and  oflScer  of  it,  but  not  of  any  dub ;  though  I  was 
for  four  years  president  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  and  am  now  an  honorary  member  of  the  Mass. 
B.  C,  the  N.  Y.  B.  C,  and  the  Montreal  B.  C.  (4)  I  founded  the  Bicycling  World  and  la- 
bored with  it,  till  the  end  of  my  editorship,  in  Feb.,  *8i,  as  no  other  editor  has  done  since.  I 
was  midwife  for  the  WheelmoHy  in  Sept.,  '8s,  and  one  of  its  stafiF  nntQ  the  change  was  made 
into  Outingy  which  I  then  served  as  editor  for  about  a  year.  For  these  and  other  mediums,  I 
have  probably  written  as  much  in  relation  to  bicyding  as  any  one.  (5)  My  legal  opinions  on  the 
rights  of  wheelmen— the  chief  of  which  was  printed  in  the  Bi.  JVarid{MaLy  6,  '81,  p.  409)  and 
condensed  thence  for  the  L.  A.  W.  drcular — ^have  been  in  constant  requisition  and  use ;  have 
never  been  controverted,  but  always  sustained ;  and  have  thus  been  helpful  to  the  cause.  As 
for  the  diminution  in  my  wheeling  for  the  last  three  years,  it  is  accounted  for  by  increased  ab- 
sorption in  work,  and  by  the  fact  that  my  place  of  habitation  is  not  favorable  to  the  use  of  the 
wheel  between  it  and  my  office.  Ill-health  in  '85,  and  a  resort  to  yachting  during  such  leisure  as 
1  had,  reduced  my  r(^rd  for  that  year  to  30  m.,  but  I  expect  to  ride  much  more  in  '86." 

A  veteran  wheelman  in  a  double  sense  is  Joseph  G.  Dalton  (b.  Feb.  8,  1828),  who  prepared 
at  my  request  the  following  story  (JVheelt  Aug.  15,  '84):  "  I  was  one  of  the  three  who  were 
the  earliest  in  using  the  English  modem  bicyde,  on  its  real  advent  in  this  country  at  Boston  in 
the  summer  or  fall  of  '77.  Col.  Pope  at  the  same  time  was  trying,  with  an  English  friend,  a 
mostly  wooden  imitation.  Several  young  mechanics  in  this  dty  had  for  a  year  or  two  been  using 
similar  machines  made  of  wood  or  iron,  after  the  improved  pattern,  and  there  had  been  a  few 
sporadic  cases  of  true  bicyde,  on  the  race  track  and  the  stage,  in  New  York  and  elsewhere. 
The  Centennial  exposition  at  Philadelphia  contaraed  a  number  of  imported  bicycles,  exhibited 
by  Lawford  &  Timms.  Having  learned  the  art  of  balance  on  that  sort  of  two-wheeler  which 
now  bears  only  an  opprobrious  name,  I  borrowed  one  of  the  new  kind,  a  Paragon,  and  on  Sept. 
19,  '77,  took  my  first  ride  at  once  upon  the  road.  Though  a  48-in.  wheel,  it  had  a  seat  as  high 
as  that  of  a  53-in.  now,  and  was  dangerously  upright  and  top-heavy.  After  riding  it  190  m.  in 
about  two  months,  I  sold  it  for  the  owners  (out  of  regard  for  my  bones).  In  Dec  I  got  an 
Ariel,  46-in.,  from  the  same  parties,  and  rode  it  to  the  end  of  the  year,  about  s6o  m.  I  used 
the  same  during  the  first  \  of  '78,  when  I  received  6  more  machines  from  the  firm  under  an  ar- 
rangement to  sell  them  also.  These  were  among  the  first  bicycles  sold  in  this  country.  I  also 
assisted  in  nuraing  the  infant  cult,  by  editorial  and  other  writing  in  the  dty  papers,  and  in  F.  W. 
Weston's  eccentric  but  valuable  Bicycling  Journai ;  and  was  joined  with  him  and  a  dozen  others 
in  launching  the  first  dub,  a  craft  that  still  shows  the  rosy  tint  on  her  prow,  but  'tis  more  the 
healthy  hoe  of  prosperity,  than  of  vinous  origin.  For  the  rest  of  that  year,  and  to  the  last  of 
April,  '79, 1  rode  a  48-in.  Ariel,  that  make  having  a  bar  and  tension-rods  inside  the  wheel,  by 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  505 

which  the  hub  could  be  turned  and  all  the  spokes  tightened  at  once.  I  then  bought  a  light  road- 
ster, Qub  50-in.y  which  I  rode  until  Oct.,  '8a.  Since  then  I  have  used  an  Xtraordinary,  safety 
machine,  5a4n.,  the  first  I  have  had  which  ran  on  anything  better  than  roller  or  cone  bearings. 
This  kind  I  think  is  in  uMMt-respects  the  best  Ux  such  riders  as  myself,  though  it  is  not  made 
light  enough  for  men  of  less  than  130  lbs.— in  my  case  nearly  10  lbs.  less.  I  have  adopted  this 
form  for  good  and  all ;  in  the  words  of  a  rhymster: 

'  Let  speed  prevail,  and  records  lower ;  but  Safety  be  my  choice  of  goer.' 

"  I  object  to  these  long-distance  fellows  who  sweep  over  many  lands,  and  measure  off,  in 
4  or  5  years,  leagues  enough  to  girdle  the  globe.  They  seem  to  want  the  earth,  as  the  saying  is. 
To  travel  about  the  length  of  its  diameter  in  6  years  is  the  more  proper  thing.  After  about  2300 
m.  on  the  old,  heavy,  and  high-built  machines,  I  rode  the  Club  nearly  4500  m.,  and  the  Xtra,  up 
to  date,  about  aooo  m.  It  was  more  than  a  year  before  I  could  righlly  mount  or  dismount,  and 
my  falls  for  two  or  three  years  were  numerous  and  various,  by  the  combined  faults  of  machines 
and  rider,  but  resulted  in  no  hurt  worse  than  a  sprain.  My  riding  has  been  wholly  for  exercise, 
to  relieve  occupations  mainly  sedentary ;  it  has  been  done  mostly  near  Boston,  reaching  only  as 
far  as  Worcester  in  one  direction,  and  Gloucester  in  another ;  making  45  to  50  m.  a  day  two  or 
three  times,  and  longest  tour  80  m.;  have  used  a  cyclometer  but  little,  and  reckoned  my  mile- 
age by  the  known  length  of  familiar  routes,  or  often  by  estimating  at  the  moderate  rate  of  5  to 
5^  m.  an  hour  for  the  time  out,  including  stops.  The  yearly  distances  are :  1878,  1540 ;  *79* 
1 515 ;  *8o,  1465 ;  »8i,  980 ;  *8a,  1135 ;  »83,  1165.  Add  450  ra.  for  '771  and  445  m.  for  ^84  to  Aug. 
I,  and  my  total  is  8695  m."  He  added  465  m.  to  this  before  the  year  ended  (910);  and  his  919 
m.  of  '85  wasthusjdistributed:  Jan.,  19;  Mar.,  aS;  Apr.,  116;  May,  149;  June,  45;  July, 
30;  Aug.,  154;  Sept.,  179;  Oct.,  I  to;  Nov.,  79;  Dec,  10, — ^making  the  total  for  9  years  10,079 
m.  His  "  Lyra  Bicyclica:  Forty  Poets  on  the  Wheel "  (Oct.,  *8o ;  ed.  500)  was  the  earliest 
book  of  cycling  verses  issued  in  this  country.  The  second  edition  appeared  in  March,  '85,  en- 
larged to  160  pp.,  with  the  amended  title  of  "  Sixty  Poets."  It  is  bound  in  doth,  and  may  be 
had  by  mailing  a  postal-note  for  75  c.  to  the  author,  at  the  house  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  87  Boyls- 
ton  St.  His  advertisement  thtia  describes  it:  "  A  phenomenal  series  of  high  flights  and  carols 
in  comic  verse.  To  voice  the  cycling  spirit  in  the  best  manner  from  many  points  of  view,  his 
Super-parodic  method  is  applied  at  Hut  to  all  available  material  from  the  whole  range  of  poetry. 
There  is  also  a  pyrotechnic  and  kaleidoscopic  variety  of  other  song  in  many  measures,  mostly 
turning  upon  the  Wheel,  and  in  its  own  steelf-and  tonic  style,  by  the  laureate  birr]  of  cycling, 
eagle,  lark  and  chanticleer  in  one  I  Rare  as  it  is  to  see  anything  really  NEW  in  the  field  of 
poetry,  occupied  for  ages  by  the  finest  wits  of  the  world,  it  is  found  in  this  book,  which  is  quite 
without  a  parallel  in  its  plan  and  leading  features.    EripuU  muste  ignem^  cartnenque  eanenti." 

Hardly  five  years  younger  than  the  Boston  poet  is  the  Michigan  journalist,  L.  J.  Bates  (b. 
Sept.  24,  1832),  who  assumed  the  editorship  of  the  Laming  RtfuMkoHy  in  Jan.,  '86,  after  about 
so  years'  connection  with  the  Poti  and  TrSbnne  at  Detroit.  He  is  one  of  the  few  trained 
writer*  that  have  contributed  to  the  cycling  press,~his  signature  as  *'  President  Bates  "  being 
familiar  to  all,  and  his  style  being  suflidently  marked  to  fix  the  authorship  of  even  the  shorter 
pieces  which  are  signed  "  B."  His  report  to  me  is  as  follows  (Dec  la,  '85):  "My  birth- 
place was  Hunter,  a  little  village  in  the  Clatskill  section  of  the  Hudson  Valley.  I  was  married 
at  Oaod  Rjq>ids,  Aug.  18,  i860,  to  Miss  Jenny  L.  Tracy,  and  have  two  children,  a  daughter 
and  a  son.  I  am  now  53,  but  can  keep  up  with  any  kind  of  a  procession  on  wheels,  and  have 
as  much  fun  an  any  of  the  crowd.  I  was  the  earliest  bicycler  in  Michigan  ;  received  my  {jo- 
lumbia  March  ar,  '79*  u^d  struggled  with  it  in  the  back-alley  for  a  week  before  learning  to 
mount,  as  I  'd  never  watched  any  one  else  perform  that  act ;  but  when  I  did  at  last  mount 
and  ride  through  the  alley,  I  went  around  the  entire  block  on  the  street ;  and  I  've  ridden 
about  every  fair  day  since.  This  was  on  March  29  [the  self-name  day  that  the  author  of  this 
book  learned  to  ride  at  Boston ;  see  p.  25],  and  on  Sept.  a,  I  organized  the  Detroit  B.  C,  the 
first  in  the  State,  with  8  member*,  and  was  elected  presid?nt.  Each  year  since  then  I  've  been 
nnanioKMisly  re-elected,  in  qnte  of  my  protest,  except  in  '84,  when  I  positively  refused  to  serve. 


So6 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


My  wheeling  araouoted  to  over  aooo  m.  during  6  months  of  summer  and  autumn,  the  only 
year  I  ever  kept  a  record.  My  annual  total  must  be  laige,— ^ever  less  than  aooo  to  looo 
m.— and  in  'S4  I  guess  it  was  3500.  I  ride  about  10  m.  a  day,— goiqg  to  and  from  my  offio; 
thus  on  almost  every  possible  day,— and  there  are  not  more  than  6  to  u  weeks  in  the  year  when 
weather  prevenu  my  riding.  My  present  50  in.  Expert  has  carried  me  over  11,000  m.,  at  a 
cost  of  only  56  c.  for  repairs  caused  by  breakages,  and  ^  for  a  new  tire  to  rear  wheel  Be- 
sides Uking  part  in  the  three  grand  tours,  of  a  fortnight  each,  managed  by  the  Chicago  men, 
I  've  been  on  100  or  more  short  tours,  of  i  to  3  days'  duration,  and  uncounted  all-day  runs. 
My  only  serious  accident  was  in  '84,  after  safely  returning  from  the  Canada  tour,  when  I  broke 
two  ribs  by  a  slight  fall,  which  was  produced  by  a  block  of  wood-paving  being  thrown  against 
my  wheel  where  some  street  repairs  were  in  progress.  The  only  fall  of  any  kind  I  *ve  had 
since  then  was  caused  by  the  breaking  under  my  wheel  of  a  board  in  the  sidewalk  at  Napanee, 
giving  me  a  slight  bruise.  I  wrote  my  first  bicycle  article  in  winter  of  '79-'8o,  and  was  aston- 
ished to  find  it  going  the  rounds  of  the  press.  My  imaginative  sketch  ouled  'A  Midnight  Ride ' 
in  Burbank's  *  Wheelman's  Annual  for  '83,'  also  had  quite  a  run,  in  Eqgland  as  well  as  Amer. 
ica,  and  I  believe  is  still  afloat,  accredited  as  a  veritable  adventure.  My  pieces  for  the  BL 
World  tA  *8i  included  'Our  New  Year's  Call  on  Wheels'  (Jan*  u)  And  'The  Bumps  Sere- 
nade '  (Nov.  11).  In  the  magaxine  called  the  Wlutltman^  and  then  Outmg,  besides  my  reporU 
of  the  Canada  tours  (April,  May,  '84 ;  May,  '8$),  I  printed  practical  essays  on  the  '  Ideal  Tri- 
cycle '  (March,  '83), '  Our  Highway  Laws  as  Affected  by  Bicycling '  (March,  April,  '83), '  Polit- 
ical Power  of  the  L.  A.  W.'  (May,  '83),  and  the  following  sketches  :  -^  True  History  of  that 
Qub  Run'  (Dec.,  '82),  'The  Club  Christening'  Gan-.'Sj).  'The  Bi.  Club  Attend  a  Sewing 
Circle '  (Feb.),  '  True  History  of  Capt.  Haidrider's  Run '  (May), '  Mr.  Cuff  and  Miss  Mar- 
gery '  (July), '  How  OTuUiver  Bard  was  Assassinated  '  (Oct.), '  Mr.  Condor  and  Miss  Wealthy ' 
(Jan.,  '84),  *  The  Twiddle  Twins'  (Feb.),  '  My  Wife's  Tricycle '  (July),  '  The  Perkcr  Hunt ' 
(Sept.),  'Ride '(poem,  Nov.),  'How  Mr.  Podwinkle  was  Encouraged'  (April,  '85),  *  How 
O'Tulliver  Bard  Coasted  the  Bridge '  (July),  'On  the  Proper  Economy  of  Truth '  (Sept).  As 
for  cyclometers,  I  have  examined  several,  and  think  the  perfect  one  has  not  yet  appeared, 
though  the  improved  Butcher  is  pretty  good.  The  figures  on  the  dial-plate  should  be  }  in.  long, 
black  on  white ;  and  the  best  dial  I  've  seen  was  that  of  the  proposed  Lamson  eye.  The  per- 
fect meter  should  run  by  friction-wheels,  not  cogs,  and  should  record  t  m.  exactly ^  when  meas- 
ured. The  trouble  with  meters  that  allow  a  fixed  number  of  cogs  to  the  ro.  is  that  they  really 
measure  a  few  ft.  or  in.  more  w  less  than  i  m.,  and  the  repetition  of  these  slight  errors  finally 
causes  a  large  one.  In  conclusion,  let  me  auid,  as  a  notable  fact  about  bicycling,  that  I  *ve  never 
seen  an  experienced  wheelman  thoroughly  tired  by  any  ride  or  run,  no  matter  how  long,— >I 
mean  not  so  tired  but  that,  after  resting  a  «ngle  h.,  he  could  frolic  about  as  if  fresh,  or 
easily  ride  several  m.  more.  The  24  Canada  tourists  of  '83  wheeled  a  daily  average  of  50  m.: 
the  79  of  '84,  47^  m.,  and  the  107  of  '85,  4s|  m., — not  only  without  sickness  or  serious  acci- 
dent, but  with  actual  gain  of  weight  in  the  cases  of  all  but  4  of  the  a  10  individuals.  This 
seems  all  the  more  remarkable  in  view  of  the  fact  that  they  were  often  wet  by  bad  tain- 
storms,  drank  everjrthing  on  the  road,  and  went  late  to  bed." 

"  Telzah,"  a  signature  which  always  secured  close  attention  from  regular  readers  of  the 
BL  World  to.  its  bright,  eariier  days,  is  a  pseudographic  reversal  of  one  whtdi  now  gives  au- 
thenticity to  many  extremely  interesting  articles,  of  universal  popularity,  whenever  offidaDy  used 
by  C.  A.  Hazlett  (b.  July  21,  1847),  cashier  of  the  First  National  Bank  at  Portsmouth.  I  grow 
sad  as  I  think  of  his  present  degeneracy,  in  thus  signing  bank-notes  and  government  drafts  dur- 
ing the  long  hours  that  he  ought  properly  to  spend  in  compiling  "  Summaries  of  Notable  Rona 
and  Excursions,"  such  as  he  used  to  supply  for  the  Wheelman  (Feb.,  Mar.,  '84),  when  he  was 
a  simple  bank-clerk  and  bachelor.  With  a  carefully-kept  cyclometer-record  about  twice  as  great 
as  my  own, — greater,  in  fact,  than  that  of  any  other  AmeriGan,--he  cherishes  my  own  fondnesa 
for  accurate  statistics  of  wheeling ;  and  as  he  is  about  the  only  writer  save  myself  who  has  at- 
tempted any  painstaking  presentation  of  the  same,  on  a  large  scale,  I  regret  to  see  a  big  stack  of 
paper-money  absorbing  nearly  all  the  ink  out  of  his  pen.    He  still  pushes  it  occasionally  on  a 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


507 


m^axine  article  called  "  Twenty  Thousand  Miles  on  New  England  Roads,"  embodying  his 
expeziences,  but  cannot  say  how  soon  this  may  be  mdy  for  publication.  When  I  first  persuaded 
him  to  attempt  such  a.  piece,  in  order  that  I  might  reprint  a  summary  of  it,  "  Fifteen  "  was  the 
fint  word  in  its  title ;  and,  as  the  introductory  numeral  grew  higher  with  advancing  months,  he 
gradually  came  to  see  that  his  easiest  way  of  keeping  faith  was  to  prepare  a  summary  for  me  di- 
rectly, and  trust  to  the  future  for  finding  leisure  to  expand  iu  His  record  b  a  most  instructive 
one,  as  showing  the  value  of  the  bicycle  to  a  man  whose  business  keeps  him  laigely  indoors, 
and  chained  to  a  single  locality ;  and  it  ofiFers  an  interesting  contrast  to  that  of  Mr.  Drew  (p. 
501),  whose  similarly  extensive  mileage  proves  the  valne  of  the  bicycle  to  a  man  whose  business 
keeps  him  largely  out-doors,  and  moving  to  many  localities.  As  it  seems  likely  that  no  other 
American— with  the  possible  exception  of  myself— has  taken  so  many  careful  readings  from  the 
cyclometer,  a  special  importance  attaches  to  what  he  says  on  that  point  (Dec.  9,  '85)  :  "  I  have 
used  vauriotts  other  kinds,  but  for  the  most  part  have  carried  Ritchie's  magnetic  cyclometer.  I 
still  depend  upon  it,  for  it  has  never  failed  me,  and  regular  tests  convince  me  that  it  is  accurate. 
I  am  occasionally  obliged  to  put  in  a  new  washer,  or  otherwise  take  up  the  wear,  but  its  inside 
construction  and  operation  have  been  satisfactory.  Other  makes  have  the  advantage  over  it  in 
respect  to  a  dial  which  can  be  read  while  riding ;  and  if  a  change  in  size  of  wheel  should  force 
me  to  get  a  new  eye,  I  think  I  should  give  the  Butcher  a  test 

"  When  my  Columbia,  No.  61,  first  reached  me  (Apr.  3,  '79),  a  eye  was  attached  to  it,  and 
I  b«gan  revolving  the  same  at  the  rate  of  200  to  300  m.  per  month,  so  that  at  the  end  of  the 
year  it  recorded  1660  m.  My  mileage  in  '80  was  3840 ;  and,  as  I  found  I  had  missed  riding  only 
on  a  dozen  winter  days,  I  decided  in  '81  to  make  the  first  American  out-door  record  for  every 
day  in  the  year.  I  accomplished  this,  though  my  rides  through  the  snow,  on  a  few  stormy  days, 
were  short  as  well  as  uncomfortable,'— the  sum  of  the  365  rides  being  3175.  My  '83  mileage  was 
3635;  '8313675;  '84,  3310;  '85,3830,8  total  of  31,015.  My  duties  during  the  last  year  have 
been  so  pressing  that  I  've  hardly  taken  time  to  do  the  wheeling  that  I  think  necessary  as  health 
fuel  for  my  work.  The  first  loro  m.  of  it  were  ridden  before  the  close  of  July,  showing  1830  m. 
for  the  last  5  months  of  the  year.  Beginning  in  '78  with  a  46  in.  wheel,  I  Ve  had  a  larger  size 
nearly  every  year  and  now  comfortably  ride  a  54.  I  retain  four  of  my  old  bicycles  in  my 
wheel-house,— the  favorite  veterans  being  J<^n  Bull  (imported  in  '77  or  '78  '•  solid  backbone),  and 
Special  Columbia,  with  its  record  of  6000  m.  They  still  do  me  good  service,  on  rainy  days  and 
winter  months,  when  my  nickeled  wheels  are  laid  aside.  I  received  the  John  Bull  in  June,  V8»  but 
take  no  note  of  the  few  hundred  m.  I  rode  that  year.  My  cyclom.  record  also  excludes  the  m.  I 
have  covered  on  the  road  by  tricycle  and  tandem,  the  many  h.  I  have  bicycled  in  our  dub  rink,  and 
the  long  distances  I  have  pushed  the  marine  bicycle,  on  rivers,  lakes  and  ocean.  I  have  not  ridden 
at  any  time  just  to  increase  my  record,  but  chiefly  for  enjoyment,  and  for  the  sake  of  counteract- 
ing the  unhealthful  tendencies  of  an  occupation  which  confines  me  in-doors,  under  considerable 
mental  strain.  The  daily  rides  my  hobby  gives  me,  between  the  house  and  bank,  have  kept  me 
in  perfect  health ;  and  though  these  are  not  the  limits  of  my  activity,  it  has  been  confined  almost 
wholly  to  New  England.  The  separate  roadways  I  have  explored  would  probably  not  amount 
to  500m. ;  the  longest  of  these  being  in  Mass.,  the  hardest  being  across  the  steep  and  sandy 
hilb  of  Me.,  and  the  most  varied  being  around  home  in  N.  H.  My  first  all-day's  straightaway 
ride  was  from  Portsmouth  to  Boston,  66  m.  (Aug.,  '79)  *  <^nd  you  can  consult  my  articles  in  the 
Whitlman  (Jan.,  '83  ;  Feb.,  Mar.,  '84)  for  details  of  the  136  m.  ride  I  took  Oct.  39,  '83,  with 
wind  and  rain  against  me,  and  of  the  even  100  m.  run  in  10  h.,  Nov.  3,  '83.  I  have  no  scars  to 
show,  and  no  serious  accidents  to  relate  of  myself  or  wheels,  my  bills  for  repairs  of  which  have 
been  very  slight.  I  have  never  been  injured  by  reason  of  breakage  or  falls  from  crank  bicycles, 
though  I  have  tried  all  the  various  accomplishments  the  wheel  affords,— including  fency  riding, 
drilling  and  racing.  As  to  headers,  I  could  relate  a  long  chapter  of  them,  but  more  happened 
in  the  first  1000  m.  than  in  all  the  distance  traversed  since.  One  piece  of  my  good  ludc  seems 
peculiar  :  during  hundreds  of  miles  ridden  by  night  and  on  the  ice,  I  never  yet  had  a  fall." 

William  V.  Gilman  (b.  Nov.  35,  1856),  treasurer  of  the  Nashua  Card  and  Glased  Paper  Co., 
is  another  New  Hampshire  pioneer  who  wrote  extensively  for  the  wheeling  press  in  its  earlier 


5o8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

days,  and  who  is  now  forced  by  the  cares  of  business  and  married  fife  to  give  less  time  to  tbe 
wheel  and  the  pen.  His  portrait  and  biography  appeared  in  Spr.  Wk,  Gax.  (Jui*^  '84«  p.  19X 
One  of  his  eaiiiest  reooDectioos  is  the  departure  of  troops,  for  the  South,  from  Albany,  his  birth- 
place, thoi;^  bis  parents  moved  thenoe  to  Nashua,  in  war  time,  and  he  graduated  at  its  high 
sdiool  in  *7S»  ^^  entered  as  Freshman  at  Dartmouth.  College  was  soon  abandoned  in  favor  ol 
a  business  school  at  Boston,  whence  he  went  into  the  employ  of  a  paper  mill  at  West  Henniker, 
N.  H.  (Feb.  I,  '77)>  ^<^  *^^^  3^  yon  there,  assumed  his  present  positioo  in  Nashua.  He 
learned  to  ride  in  Oct.»  '78,  but  did  not  buy  a  biqrde  till  late  in  Nov.,  and  hardly  covered  13  m. 
that  year.  His  mileage  for  '79  was  about  1830,  and  '80  proved  his  best  year  (4780  m.) ;  the  an- 
nual record  decreamng since  then  as  follows:  '81,  4100;  *8a,  ajoo;  '83,  1509;  '84,  1117;  *85, 
637 ;  total,  13,685.  "  Thoi^^h  this  dedine,  enforced  by  buuness  demands,  seems  a  great  one  " 
(he  writes  to  me  Dec  10,  '85),  "  my  bicycles  are  nevertheless  kept  in  coor^ant  use,  the  entire 
riding  season.  The  difference  is  that  I  use  them  only  in  short  spins,  for  heahhf ul  exercise,  in 
jogging  about  town, — my  longest  day's  ride  in  '85  being  a  round  trip  of  30  m.  Though  I  have 
qwnt  more  than  ^100  on  cyclometers,  none  are  attached  to  the  wheels  I  now  use  (a  Rodge  and 
an  Expert),  and,  until  a  radical  improvement  can  be  made,  I  want  none.  The  rough,  sandy,  and 
hilly  roads  of  N.  H  (where  most  of  my  riding  has  been  done,  though  I  have  wheeled  consader- 
abiy  in  Mass.,  and  a  little  in  N.  Y.  and  N.  J., — as  also  at  Chicago  and  Washington,  while  at> 
tending  the  League  meets)  shake  them  all  to  pieces.  My  wheeling  record  has  therefore  been 
made  up  from  my  knowledge  of  distances  traversed,  estimated  to  the  best  of  my  judgmenL  I  do 
not  pretend  that  it  is  absolutely  correct,  and  I  make  no  claim  or  boast  for  it.  I  've  never  half  kept 
an  account  of  mileage,  except  to  add  up  the  probable  totals  as  I  went  along ;  but,  as  you  insist 
upon  it,  I  supply  the  best  details  I  can.  Though  I  have  ridden  a  litde  in  Jan.  and  Feb.,  my  or- 
dinary season  has  been  restricted  to  the  other  ten  months  of  each  year.  During  *8o-*8i,  for 
many  days  in  succession  I  rode  40  m.  or  more,  outdde  of  business  hours,  thus :  to  Lowell  and 
back  without  dismount  (30  m.) ;  then,  after  dinner,  to  Tyngsboro  and  back  without  dismount 
(144  m.),  in  I  h.  5  min.  I  used  to  indulge  in  many  similar  performances,  of  which  I  took  no 
note, — riding  persistently,  '  night  and  day,  up  hill  and  down,  over  all  creation.*  I  grew  so  fond 
of  knickerbockers  that  I  wore  them  almost  continuously,  for  every  sort  of  business  or  pleasure ; 
and  I  tried  all  sorts  of  rigs  and  outfits, — broadcloth,  white  flannel,  club  uniforms,  plain  shirts  with 
belts,  and  all  the  colors  in  all  combinations  possible.  I  have  ridden  some  250  m.  on  tiicydes 
(Harvard,  Victor  and  Columbia),  though  none  is  now  owned  by  me,  or  by  any  one  else  in  this 
part  of  N.  H.,  where  the  sandy  roads  hardly  warrant  their  use.  Besides  my  two  marine  bicy- 
cles, I  have  owned  and  ridden  the  following :  Newton  Challenge,  Velocity,  4  Columbias  (a 
Standards,  i  Special,  t  Expert),  3  Harvards,  Shadow,  Vale,  Rudge  light  roadster,  American 
Rudge,  Royal  Mail,  Club,  Special  Club,  Union,  Matchless,  American  Star,  British  ChaUenge, 
Sanspareil,  Kangaroo  and  Victor.  I  was  appointed  League  consul,  early  in  '81,  and  on  Sept.  17, 
organized  the  Nashua  Wheel  Club  (now  defunct);  was  its  first  presdent,  and  in  '8a  was  thoatea 
captain.  In  May  of  that  year,  I  was  elected  treasurer  of  the  L.  A.  W.,  and  was  re-elected  in 
'83.  I  am  N.  H.  consul  of  the  C.  T.  C,  and  a  member  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Associa- 
tion, as  well  as  of  the  Mass.  B.  C.  and  the  Springfield  B.  C, — a  life  member  in  the  latter  case." 
"  Ixion  "  was  a  fomiliar  signature  to  early  readers  of  the  Bi.  IVarldt  and  it  sometimes  even 
now  appears  there,  representing  Llewellyn  H.  Johnson  (b.  March  r7,  1859),  a  graduate  of 
Swarthmore  College  in  '78,  and  recently  established  as  a  dealer  in  cycles  at  East  Orange  (3  Ar- 
lington PL),  who  sent  me  this  short  story,  Jan.  i,  '86  :  "I  took  my  first  ride  Jan.  7,  '79,  and 
have  wheeled  in  N.  J.,  N.  Y.,  Mass.,  Vt.,  N.  H.,  Va.,  Md.,  D.  C,  R.  L,  Prov.  Que.,  Eng.  and 
Wales.  Mileage,  18,733,  divided  annually  thus  (the  additional  figures,  after  first  3  years,  show 
bi.  andtri.  records  respectively)  :  '79,  1643  ;  '80,  3030;  *8i,  3x39 — 3068,  71 ;  '83,  1387—13341, 
163^;  '83,  3301— 981^,  1319J;  '84,  4048—1877,  3171 ;  '8s,  4175— "45i  ^QJo-  This  gives  a  total 
of  13,069  for  the  bi.  and  5654  for  the  tri.  My  experience  with  cyclometers  covers  these  dght : 
Lakin,  Excelsior,  Underwood,  Stanton  (the  two  latter  are  English),  Pope,  McDonnell,  Spald- 
ing  and  Butcher.  The  first  three  are  accurate,  the  others  are  worthless.  Let  me  «nphatica]ly 
denounce  the  Butcher  as  a  fraud."    A  monthly  analysis  of  his  '84  road-record  was  given  in  BL 


STATISr/CS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 

Warti{im.%i.'iiin  (oUowi :  "Jan.,  lol— H,  ii;  Feb.,  lai— i;,  761  Hu.,  iBi— i 
Apr,,  s'^* — >6A,  354;  May,  }73— ijo,  14a  ;  June^  451—^00, 751;  July,  6i^^jga,  j>6;  Aug, 
j;q.6t;  Sepl.,  J18— 114.  104!  OcL,  34;-^OJ,  14}!  Noi..,  411— 81,  J41  i  I>M.,i49i— 7t 
The  third  niunenluiignedtoeachiDODLhghowttlwrccordaof  tnc]pdu,KDdlliejra] 
br  iulki  in  Ibii  >iulyii>  d(  ihc  year's  milEitc  beiwccn  the  nuchina  liddcD  :  Humttr, 
Kncker,  646;  Hnmbrr  Tamitm,  61]  i  Pony  Sur,  soj^i  Valt,  4iit;  Rucker,  3471  R 
TaiHlem.  ii;  1  Facile.  79 ;  Ciri:n',  68;  Sanipareil,  4;;  Trmnlir,  li;  Kaogajoo,  16 :  C<l 
,nan  Sxiailt,  ijl  Rudge,  10;  American  Club,  in;  Kuii>ber,6;  Ct/-miia.  1."  Hur 
Jtlly  10,  'B4,  DD  the  roada  araund  OTange,  "  lovreiing  the  American  14  h-  In.  record,"  wli 
dcnibed  in  Ihe  £l  M'^V^oI  July  18,  whicb  >aid  thai  he  "canied  a  HcOonneU  cyclon. 
had  preriDiuly  been  tested  ov«i  accuralely-meuured  roada,  iuid  was  iccompanied  by  ji  vi 
rider  frbose  Eacetsior  cyclCKU.  it  known  to  be  abaolutely  accurate."  The  aajne  paper  prii 
Kogniphy  (Jan.  11.  iSBi),  accompanied  by  a  lull-lenEih  wood-cut  ponrailof  him  in  racin 
1IUIW :  for  hii  wai  Ibe  brsl  weU-known  name  upon  Ibe  race-recordi  of  Ameiicau  amaleun 
1  reftel  Ihal  the  ipaa  be  bu  consented  la  fill  in  this  bnak  is  so  aligbl. 


whom  I  li 


Niuonal  bank,  an 
right  around  Ihen 
the  good  and  bad 


I  ol  ai 


onlht,  IK 


tecydnn, 


■k;    ■'  1  began  riding  il 


.  a  clerk  in  the  Orangi 


Jan. 

Feb, 

Mar, 

Apr. 

May 

June 

Juij 

Aug. 

Sept, 

Oct. 

No,. 

Dee, 

Total 

.(»0 

87 
6a6J 

"Si 

7J 

»7 

*61 

S-i 

4791 

.88. 

»] 

*S( 

mi 

»s) 

Sill 

s*H 

409I 

444I 

J*S 
1S4 

'Hi 

3700} 

■SSi 

,a,i 

■07 

4J'5l 

S.8I 

47.i 

4Sfti 

i'7i 

mk 

4«l 

aiol 

t6J 

40J21 

.n, 

"1 

4 

■451 

,6,1 

•84I 

iM 

33* 

30s 

.87 

l»6l 

Jt'l 

>97l 

«S56i 

.884 

roi 

"S 

'77i 

«„. 

7..( 

90-t 

7M 

6ssl 

S7ll 

3J6i 

601I 

S.7I 

IS'I 

»3.1 

.88; 

.,,t 

»1 

,.ol 

>jd1 

^. 

soil 

3>4 

"61 

.J. 

3=7 

7ui 

33I61 

record  in  thai  lame  (iTored  region  is  Robert  D,  & 
also  done  plenty  of  tiMgh  loaiing  outside  it,  at  eh 
thai  on  p.  164.     Kii  letter  to  me  »yi,  Aug.  11, 


HymDeageiann.,, 

iM 

I  wish  you 

could  ha» 

inligblatj. 

lion  (by  P 

iNunat  S. 

>aogB«v 

and  aflerwardi 

1.1,  iu  th. 

(aHofabou 

-ow  nvine,  thickly  (had 

Iilla.  tfrday,  made  a  pretty  winter  pictun 


5IO  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

weather  interfered  on  5  days  of  the  la  (as  I  show  by  the  •),  but  my  circuit  covered  4  States  and 
582!  m.,  representing  lai  h.  in  the  saddle  and  26^  h.  of  rests  on  the  road,  the  average  ^wed  be> 
ing  a  trifle  over  6  m.  per  h.  In  the  following  list  I  give  this  speed  for  each  day,  expressed  to 
tenths  of  I  ni.,  after  the  name  of  place  where  day's  ride  ended ;  the  numeral  before  each  name 
shows  the  day's  distance,  expressed  to  sixteenths  of  i  m. :  Oct.  5, 6a.  10,  Canterbury,  6.42 ;  6ch,* 
39.3,  Washington  Hollow,  6.53;  7th,*  47.3,  Cornwall  Bridge,  460;  8th,*  37.14,  Stockbridge, 
6.31 ;  9th,  55-9,  Hoosac  Comers,  7.10;  loth,  56.7,  Caldwell,  6.71;  lath,  70.12,  Schodack,  7.38; 
13th,*  27.4,  Hudson,  5;  14th,*  3.02,  Poughkeepsie,  6.02;  isth,  57.14,  Monticello,  5.74;  i6th, 
48.9,  Branchville,  6.08 ;  17th,  49- 1»  Newark,  5.83.  (Cars  were  taken  from  Hudson  to  Tivoli.  on 
the  X3th,*  and  from  Cochecton  to  Port  Jervis  on  the  i6th,— the  m.  thus  ridden  of  course  being 
disregarded  in  the  record.)  All  ray  1 5, 1 54  m.  have  been  done  on  a  single  bicycle,  which  I  bou^t 
at  second-hand,  with  an  Excelsior  cyclometer  atuched.  I  have  tested  the  accuracy  of  this  by 
counting  the  turns  of  the  wheel  for  many  m.,  and  its  invariableness  by  going  over  the  same 
course  many  times,  at  different  rates  of  speed.  One  course,  more  than  17  m.  long,  I  have  trav- 
ersed at  least  100  times, — ^varying  my  speed  from  i  h.  29  min.  to  3  h., — and  I  am  satisfied  that 
the  cydom.  is  very  accurate.  Its  leather  washers  need  replacing  after  every  2000  or  3000  m. ,  and 
once  I  have  sent  it  for  slight  repairs,  made  necessary  by  long  use,  to  the  makers  (E.  B.  Benton 
Mfg.  Co.,  291  W.  nth  St.,  N.  Y.).  I  have  never  met  a  wheelman,  using  any  other  make  of 
cydom.,  who  could,  with  equal  reason,  give  so  good  a  report." 

A  Jerseyman  also  by  residence  since  Aug.,  '85  (at  Jersey  City,  521  Bergen  av.),  thoi^  for 
the  5  previous  years  a  practitioner  at  New  Haven,  is  the  present  offidal  handicapper  of  the 
League,  Dr.  N.  P.  Tyler  (b.  Oct.  n,  '48,  at  Barrytown,  N.  Y.),  who  says  of  his  14,374  m.  of 
riding,  in  4  yrs.  and  2  mos.,  that  it  was  "of  necessity  confined  mostly  to  Connecticut  and  a 
limited  number  of  roads, — ^probably  not  more  than  800  m.  of  separate  roadway  having  been  trav- 
ersed by  me,  all  told.  I  learned  to  ride,  at  the  end  of  May,  '82,  for  the  sake  of  saving  horse- 
flesh; and  ray  own  flesh  increased  16  lbs.  within  6  weeks.  In  '83,  I  gave  up  both  horses,  and 
used  the  bicycle  entirely  for  professional  calls,  except  in  rainy  and  snowy  weather.  My  first 
long  ride  was  40  m.  to  Hartford  (Oct.) ;  ten  days  after  which  (Nov.  2)  I  went  over  the  same 
route  and  continued  straight  on  to  Springfield,  68  m.,  in  9  h.  I  made  a  other  trips  to  Hartford, 
4  to  Bridgeport,  and  2  to  Meriden  and  back,  that  season  (total,  428  m.),  besides  constantly  rid- 
ing about  town.  So  I  estimate  my  mileage  of  '82  as  about  2200  m.,  though  I  once  told  you,  at  a 
guess,  that  1500  m.  might  probably  cover  it.  My  Jan.  record  of  '83  was  compiled  from  knowl- 
edge of  distances ;  and  from  that  point  on  I  siraply  added  up  the  cydom.  readings  until  at  end 
of  Dec  the  total  was  427S  m.  In  '84, 1  kept  a  regular  log,  showing  5009  m.  ridden  in  287  days ; 
and  I  supplied  the  Bi.  World{}9Xi.  16,  '85,  p.  171)  a  table  of  months,  which  I  now  reprodnoe, — 
the  first  numeral  showing  mileage,  the  second  the  riding  days,  and  the  third  the  greatest  mileage 
on  any  one  calendar  day :  Jan.,  107, 14,  20 ;  Feb.,  85, 14,  12  ;  Mar.,  34,  4,  6 ;  Apr.,  395,  26,  29 ; 
May,  399,  30,  35;  June,  370,  27,  38;  July,  582,  31,  47;  Aug.,  470,  29,  37;  Sept.,  574,  29,  46; 
Oct. ,'699,  31,  98;  Nov.,  813,  29,  68;  Dec,  481,  23,  55.  The  Oct.  ride  of  98  ra.  was  a  part  of 
my  130  m.  straightaway  run  (see  p.  ia8)  whose  22}  h.  were  d^ided  by  midnight.  My  milei^ 
for  first  7  mos.  of  '85  was  2887,  assigned  to  203  days,  as  follows  :  Jan.,  325, 28, 31 ;  Feb.,  303, 27, 
21;  Mar.,  282,  31,  39;  Apr.,  403,  30,  26;  May,  501,  29,  37;  June,  610,  30,  49;  July,  463*  >&> 
53.  I  began  with  a  50  in.  wheel ;  rode  a  52  in.  Expert  through  'S3,  and  a  52  in.  Rudge  (34  lbs.) 
in  '84 ;  but  the  bi.  that  has  given  the  most  out-and'Out  satisfaction  for  general  road  Tiding,  is  a 
51  in.  Rudge  (29  lbs.),  which  I've  used  ever  since  (4588  m.)  without  repairs, — and  without 
brake,  bell  or  lantern.  I  have  made  a  few  trials  on  the  radng  path,  but  my  professioDal 
gagements  have  thus  far  prevented  any  longer  tour  on  the  road  than  24  h.  Perhaps  m§ 
noteworthy  exploit  was  staying  in  the  saddle  straightaway  for  25  m.  of  difljcw^^^ 
recorded  on  p.  138.  Though  I  ara  accustomed  to  a  fast  pace  on  the  road,  and 
falls,  I  have  never  been  seriously  hurt,  or  even  laid  up.  Regarding 
some  make  constantly,  save  the  first  few  months  of  my  riding — a  52 
most  always  been  on  my  machine.  My  experience  is,  that,  when  thir 
measured  race  track  at  a  3.30  or  slower  gait,  it  invariably  registers  k 


STATISTICS  FROM   THE  VETERANS. 

it  in  itaml  Sill.    E.  g.,  from  New  Hiven  It  Btanford  it  mcuund  7I 


mly  rt  ■».  ooming  lacL,  when  two  ]«.( 

;  hilli  wen  couied  11 1  high  me  of  ipeed.    On  the  fini 

appeanncc  of  the  BuLcher,  1  obuiaed  1 

I  baod-mde  ipedmen  which  regiuered  jm  m.  ot  a  cenlutT 

[un  (Not.  ,7,  ■8,,  >«  p.  ,49)  ^d  then 

Slopped ;  but,  as  my  McDoonell  was  nUl  on,  1  kept  the 

tecofd  il[  right.    I  Mnt  tht  Butcher  t. 

0  be  repaired,  bul  it  .lopped  again  and  again,  until  the 

miken  npbccd  11  by  a  machine ^adc  t 

en  riding  a  jt  in.  bi..  (or  »nu!  lime  (.ubtiacling  1  n.  f« 

SH  oi  a  ji  in.  eye),  I  now  procured  a  ji  in.  eye.  of  the 

Butcher  Co..  but  it  «OCT«l  .1  .«  n...  i 

ind  being  repaired  Ihen.  it  hai  run  to  .005  m.  without  ac- 

with  the  Bulcher,  on  same  wheel.  U  1. 

iltromsloijBi.  iueyeryioo.    TheBulcheriaacwiale 

Henry  W.WiHian 

,»(b.  Jnnefi. 

■a*j).  ■ 

ingtt 

.  Bo.ton,i.oneoflhe(ew 

thee 

srele 

»anddiffid. 

Til,  by  keepini 

;  an  a 

pnhi 
Sun 

I'^pl 

ilalhaab=en 

e,— in  ipile  ol 
hi.home.ino 

=  ,850. 

.SS) 

lot  on 

i(p.  .ra)iha 

t  hii  appearan 

"fpi 

dure,  and  h: 

myhei 

oliciior  of  American  and  foreign  patent!  at  >s8  Wath- 
ui  ihal  diy  who  a  willing  10  let  a  good  eiamplo  10 
ccuiate  record  of  fail  miieage,  and  making  annual 
/.  Wontf'i  .neeia.    Though  bom  at  Taunton,  (he 

r  louring  pirty  "  in  Ihe  Down   Eaal  fogi. "     I  have 

h?  have  received  in  Ihia  world  a  puni.hmeDl  suitable  for  hit  depravity  in  chooting  »  rough  a 
route  t  The  case  i«  thus  alluded  la  in  a  teller  of  tua  which  wai  piinled  {Bi  Wer!J,  Apr.  14, 
'9%)  among  Ihe  adveitliing  "  teMimonial.  "  of  Ihe  Pope  Mfg.  Co. :    "In  these  limea  of '  ufely ' 

on  Colambla  bicydei.  wilhoul  a  «Dgle  fait  <uve  one) ;  and  that  a  bad  hill, on  Ihe  famous '31-m. 
drive '  in  Ml.  Deaen,  waa  what  pnvenled  the  record  from  reaching  7501.  My  freedom  from 
aocidenti  while  a-wheel  I  allribule  munly  lo  three  Ihingi:  the  eierdK  of  ordinary  care,  it- 
frslning  from  coasting,  and  the  staDchnese.  ri^dily.  and  good  workmanship  of  tHoTumbia  wheel.. 
r  have  rv^den  ij.joo  m.  cm  Columbia  machines,  of  which  over  9000  ra.  were  on  the  Etpen  bify- 
cle.  in  many  Staleg  and  over  all  aorta  of  mads.  As  f  regaid  the  Expert  as  by  far  the  most  satis- 
factory  wheel  made  for  every-day,  take-em-as-you-find-em  roads,  I  still  Tide  it  daily,"  Hisletter 
10  me.  of  Apr.  10,  'S4,  gives  further  ditails  of  Ihe  mailer:    "The  only  remarkable  thing  abonl 

kiod),  except  in  two  instances,  when  f  was  run  into, — snce  by  a  careles.  driver,  and  once  by  a 
very  fresh  bicycler.  In  both  cases  the  men  stupidly  1.  I.,  instead  of  r,  and,  aa  I  was  goitkg  at 
speod.  I  had  no  time  for  a  backward  spring,  so  thai  a  oollisioo  ensued.  Myfreedomfrom  fallg. 
in  aiille  of  a  great  deal  of  hard  and  sandy  road^ing,  I  allribnie  mainly  to  a  knack  which  I 
havEof  niakjngavery  quick  dismotml,  when  emergeneydemands.'*  His  letter  lomeof  Dec 
"'"■■'  --.,-.   strode  the  bicyde 

ishington,  before 


Pope,  McDonnell 


512  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Me.,  lao;  R.  I.,  50.  In  the  following  annual  summaries  (after  '80,  when  I  only  rode  607  m.)» 
the  numerals  stand  for  miles,  riding-days,  average  miles  per  day,  and  longest  monthly  mileage: 
*8i,  3060,  183,  i6|,  456;  '8a,  3559.  183,  19J,  553;  '83,3453,206,16},  477:  '84,  2450,  i45» 
i6|,  515;  '85,  2449,  156,  15},  439I.  The  number  of  day's  rides  exceeding  50  m.  which  I  have 
taken  in  the  la3t  5  years  is  34,  arranged  as  follows:  7,  12,  6,  5,  4.  On  each  of  8  months  in  '83 
I  rode  over  300  m.;  and  it  was  in  '82  that  I  took  my  longest  ride  (118  m.  inside  of  18  h.,  as 
shown  on  p.  258).  The  similarity  of  these  averages  shows  the  fact  that  I  've  used  the  wheel  as 
a  commonplace  factor  in  daily  life— riding  hundreds  of  times  between  my  law  office  in  the  city 
and  my  residence  in  the  subprbs  ;  hurrying  for  the  doctor  with  it,  more  than  once ;  going  to 
church ;  and,  on  several  occasions,  taking  a  journey  of  3  or  4  days,  though  no  extended  tour. 
E.g.^l  had  a  pleasant  day's  run  of  48  m.  along  the  n.  shore  from  Boston  to  Pigeon  Core, 
through  Salem,  25  m.,  and  Gloucester,  16  m.,  with  one  bad  hill  beyond  G.  Next  day  I  took  a 
9  m.  route  through  Annisquan  to  G.  (fine  scenery,  and  better  roads) ;  whence,  after  a  m.  of  bad 
road,  I  had  fine  riding  to  Ipswich  and  Newburyport  (dinner),  and  poor  onwards  to  Hamp- 
ton, 37  m.  from  G.  Third  day,  by  Little  Boar's  Head  and  Rye  Beach  to  Hotel  Wentworth  and 
Portsmouth  (beautiful  views  and  tolerable  riding),  whence  the  return  to  Newburyport  was  by 
poor  roads,  which  you  are  familiar  with  (p.  loi).  Early  in  '81,  I  joined  the  Mass.  B.  C,  and 
have  been  an  officer  of  it  almost  ever  since ;  though  my  third  term  as  president,  now  neariy 
ended,  will  be  the  last  I  may  say  of  the  club  that  its  present  active  membership  (243,  all 
riders)  is  lat^r  than  that  of  any  other  in  the  U.  S., — ^not  excepting  bicycle  clubs  like  the  Boston 
which  allow  associate  membership,-~and  it  will  soon  exceed  250.'* 

Mr.  W.  has  contributed  a  few  road-reports  and  other  practical  pieces  to  the  Bi.  IVoridj  and 
also  at  least  one  argumentative  article  to  the  Wheelmemy  deprecatory  of  the  conduct  of  cyders 
whose  coasting  and  carelessness  make  needless  accidents  that  frighten  away  elderly  men  who 
would  take  to  the  wheel  if  they  knew  a  right  answer  could  be  given  to  their  question,  "  But  is 
it  safe  ? "  The  historian  of  his  club,  however,  at  least  as  concerns  '*  The  New  House  of  the 
Mass.  B.  C."  {putingy  Mar.,  '85,  p.  429),  is  the  Rev.  S.  H.  Day  (b.  Mar.  11,  1850),  who  in  *84 
held  the  office  of  first  lieutenant  thereof,  and  whose  white-capped  head  may  be  found  fadng 
that  of  Mr.  W.,  in  Sandham's  picture  of  the  "  Down  Elast  party"  (see  pp.  279,  258),  across 
the  fork  of  the  bicycle  which  forms  a  frame-work  for  the  portraits.  He  was  one  of  the  foor 
Mt.  Desert  martyrs  who  did  n't  tumble  on  the  fated  afternoon  which  made  "  6  bent  handle-bars 
out  of  a  possible  10" ;  his  story  of  the  ride  was  given  in  Bi.  World  (Nov.  23,  '83,  p.  28),  to 
which  he  has  otherwise  contributed ;  and  he  also  printed  a  piece  deprecatory  of  "  Fast  Road 
Riding  "  {JVheelmat^  Dec,  '83,  p.  225).  He  was  educated  at  Dickinson  Coll.  and  Drew  Theol. 
Sem.,  and  is  now  in  chaige  of  a  church  at  East  Greenwich,  R.  I.,  whence  he  sends  me  this  re- 
port (June  15  and  Dec.  16,  '85):  "  My  annual  mileage,  '80  to  '85,  is  500,  2300!,  2763^,  aSoo  and 
846, — total,  9210.  The  McDonnell  cyclometers  are  not  of  equal  merit,  but  mine  is  reliaUe. 
Such  riding  as  I  did  in  '81  and  early  in  '82^  before  I  got  it,  I  have  estimated  carefully  from  known 
routes.  The  reason  for  the  sudden  shortening  in  my  record  is  that  I  've  never  had  time  to  ride  for 
recreation  ;  the  large  road  records  I  made  the  past  three  years,  arose  from  the  fact  that  from  \\o\ 
was  made  in  the  course  of  my  pastoral  visiting.  In  my  present  pastorate,  while  my  visiting  list  is 
from  3  to  4  times  as  laige  as  at  S.  Abington,  yet  the  town  is  so  compact  that  I  do  no|  need  my 
bicycle  to  save  time  as  formerly.  Whatever  mention  you  may  make  of  ray  riding,  nothing 
would  give  me  more  satisfaction  than  to  have  you  ofiFer  this — ^the  correct— explanation  of  the  dis- 
tance I  have  covered  on  the  wheel.  3uch  statements  show  the  folly  of  looking  upon  it  as  a 
mere  exercise-machine.  Since  being  in  R.  I.,  I  have  ridden  to  church  in  making  an  exchange ; 
and  not  a  word  of  objection  was  uttered  against  this  act,  though  the  bicycle  is  not  as  familiar 
here  as  in  Mass.  Some  of  the  most  delightful  and  exhilarating  rides  I  've  ever  enjoyed  have 
been  when  the  thermometer  was  below  zero.  To  the  bicycle  I  attribute  the  fact  that '  blue  Moo- 
day  '  is  a  thing  unknown  in  my  experience.  My  sometimes  preaching  without  notes,  '  kmd 
and  long '  (contrary  to  the  Methodist  discipline),  may  perhaps  be  accredited  to  the  same  in- 
strument. I  bought  a  bi.  in  July, '81,  because  I  had  just  j||^|^i|orM  and  carriace  and 
needed  a  conveyance  to  attend  to  pastoral  duties.    A  piiV" 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  513 

■H  ibe  liiae  br  •tuilir  (u  afari  trom  icnDDitiiKparuuHi)  b*  can  ■«■    Mr  Incjrele  ud  phofwg' 

pnpiiUiaii  iocreucd,  Ibc  praclkabijity  ol  nuu  ud  lem,  ipan  finm  borne  duciu,  wu  uen  ud 
laedupoo.  Tbc  Bnl  •eunn, 'Si,  iHnrcd  U>  Whiu  mlaL,  pully  by  Irain,  udl  have  aiocc  u- 
ptond  wilb  lyilcin  and  can  all  of  i.  a.  Maia.  (Ngrlolk.  BiiHol  and  Pljmuulh  CHUuiuJ  and  taat 
Mher  KCticHU  of  the  Slale.  I  oon  wcdi  fitm  Boaun  Lo  S.  AbingtoD  wiihvut  divnounL,  15  m, 
■traigbuway.  1  hare  riddcDSD  in.  Columbui  (Staudanl  aud  Eipen),  and  am  sow  uuDgasiiiL 
Rii^e  lighimaduer,  atfwiBoyearapajL" 

Tbomu  Midglry  (b.  Oct.  u,  iSts),  wbooi  I  bave  docribed  ai  Ihe  "  cbanifwo  haodls-bar 
Kiaighleoer  of  ihc  Donni  a«  party  "  (pp.  as«,  177),  lenda  me  a  Koiy  labich  I  prorai  wiih 
TEI7  few  cbangsL  I  had  to  wrile  aa  much,  in  peiuadind  turn  Ihiu  u  "mile  anyibing," 
that  I  can't  iparc  any  man  linie,  in  tfyiug  10  "  coadeaM  "  I  1  believe  he  wai  bom  io  En. 
[kad,  but  cmignled  to  Anuriea  when  quiu  young,  and  niadc  hia  home  al  Worculer  foi  a 
down  jcm  at  to,  until  he  nmnved  to  Penniyinnii,  in  Dec,  '84.  1  renMisber  bo  uiad  a 
HcDonDell  cydois.  b  ihe  Maine  tour,  and  had  a  goud  opinion  oi  it  (the  coUi^c  studeot  aod 
the  dergynum  juu  dcacnbed  alao  carried  McDonnells,  and  tbe  Lljree  agreed  praity  wd]  wilb 
one  another  and  with  ny  Pope  cydom.,  on  the  n  m-  teit,  aiMt,  Dcaert,  wheutheae  foui-vheeli 
were  the  only  ooea  that  didn't  fall,  "out  of  a  pouible  ta"J;  an  J  pretume  jnou  of  hii  'S|  ' 
record  was  kep<  with  il.  A>  to  bii  race  at  Ibe  Wsthlegton  Athletic  Paik,  OcL  16,  'Sj,  Uai. 
lelt'>"Suinnury"C'^'l™'''u^  Feb., 'S4,  p.  ]6«)ipeakiaifDJIow>:  "  HiscompetiiorwaiR.  V. 
Fetter,  ot  Baliimnre,  vho  had  been  tuaeiiog  a  Innnight  from  fever  and  ague,  but,  in  lick  of 
other  entiiea,  deiennined  to  atait  aoyhow.  Midgley  ahot  away,  and  led  T.  loo  yds,  on  the 
bK  lap  (i  m.).  Both  rode  witb  eiceUenI  jndgneDt  under  the  circumUancei.  M.  Imew  he  na 
■iLre  of  first  place  oalesa  be  broke  down{  but  Ihe  fint  lap  oonvinced  him  that  the  wind  waa 
too  aimng,  and  Ibe  track  too  loft,  from  recent  heavy  raina,  10  admit  oi  bis  beating  L.  H. 
Johnaoa'i  in-door,  J.4.45I,  or  even  Place'*  out^door,  j-17.11)  for  $0  a.  He  had  nothing  to 
feat  from  F.,  who  had  never  ridden  oyer  }<>  m.  in  hii  life  before,  on  track  or  road.  Soheiet- 
lledddwd  to  about  14  m.  perb-  (or  all  day.  Foster,  on  Ihe  other  hand,  knew  about  ii  m.  per 
fa.  waa  all  bo  could  atand;  and,  with  an  Auburodale  in  one  pocket  aod  a  lap^corer  in  th*- 
other,  he  regulated  binvelf  like  a  clock  to  thai  gail,  and  no  challenges  from  Midgley,  or  urg- 
iogi  from  pacfrmaken,  could  ahake  him.  The  high  wind  and  aoft  track  gradually  told  on  tkic 
■peed,  and  bolh  men  tapered  off  in  pace  coDiideiably  after  going  jn  or  40  m.  When  M. 
paiaed  so  m.,  F.  una  urithin  a  lew  yda.  ol  lo  m.  10  the  bad,  and  when  he  reached  isn,  F.. 
had  not  icoted  79,  neither  having  nade  a  diemouni  ot  ilackened  for  an  inuauL  A>  an- 
nounced from  Ihe  judget'  Hand  beCore  ibe  aUrt,  the  line  limit  wae,  as  uaual,  lo  h.,  and  a. 
apedal  ptue  waa  pven  to  the  lider  covering  the  greatest  number  of  m.  in  that  time  without 

00  further  apparent  inconvenience  than  a  plained  heel.  F.  kept  on,  nnd,  encouraged  by  the. 
ofluiala,  succeeded  in  riding  loii  m-  wittuut  a  dismouni, — a  very  fair  periormance  for  a  aick. 
man.    The  loo  n.  were  made  by  M.  in  y.avi>(,  and  it  took  F.  q.4S.4!  10  run  hii  101  m,  (see 

fdU  10  b.;  but  the  oftdak  were  tired  and  hungry,  and  the  a  m,  sufficed  to  give  bim  fint  priie  for- 

petilon,  though  he  doea  not  allude  to  himaelf  aa  winner  in  ihp  following  autobiogiaphy. 

"  I  began  on  a  Staudaid  Cohuntua  ('  Ho.  id'),  in  Ihe  fall  of  '8a,  and  i  hid  the  li^ng 
trrer  ao  bad  that  I  kept  on  wheeling  right  up  10  Christniai  of  that  year,  regardless  of  lb& 


5H 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


m.),  inside  ol  sa  h.    A  description  of  the  road  tnveraed  was  published  in  an  Oct.  numfaet 
of  the  BL  iVortd.    The  laurels,  if  so  they  can  be  called,  which  were  won  on  this  ride  were 
•oon  taken  away  by  the  Lawrence  B.  C,  but  I  was  determined  not  to  be  beaten,  and  ao 
(Nov.  5)  1  started  out  to  better  their  reoord  of  160  m.    TUs  resulted  in  my  riding  179  m.  inside 
the  limited  time,  and  a  report  of  it  appeared  in  the  next  week's  BL  World;  also  in  Haxlett's 
"  Summary  of  Notable  Runs,"  in  the  lVk*4bnan{}9CEi,t  '83).    This  praaically  wound  up  my 
riding  for  '82,  giving  me  a  total  of  3600  m.    As  I  bad  resolved  that  I  would  try  for  a  good 
record  in  '83,  on  the  first  day  of  that  year  (though   the  ground  was  covered  with  snow)  I 
managed  to  reel  o£E  10  m.;  but  the  next  few  days  I  was  not  as  fortunate,  and  my  riding  for 
the  month  did  not  exceed  56  m.    In  Feb.  I  covered  about  40  m.  and  in  March  only  <A  m.— 
thus  making  a  little  over  too  before  the  riding  season  opened.     On  the  26th  of  April  I  left 
the  shop  and  for  the  next  8  months  did  little  else  hut  ride  the  wheel.     It  was  in  May  that  I 
rode  the  45  m.  straightaway  from  Worcester  to  Boston  without  dismounting ;  and,  as  no  report 
of  this  was  ever  published,  I  will  give  you  a  short  account  from  memory.    There  had  been 
considerable  talk  among  the  dub  boys  regarc^g  the  length  of  time  it  would  take  to  ride 
from  W.  to  B.,  and  also  whether  it  were  possible  to  ride  the  distance  without  dismounting. 
I  determined  to  try  the  thing  at  least,  and  set  upon  the  day  of  the  Harvard  ^ring  races.    Un- 
fortunately,the  night  before  had  been  quite  stormy,  but  I  had  ridden  the  wheel  long  enough  to 
know  that  a  bicyder  could  not  always  have  everything  in  his  favor.     I  made  the  start  at  pre- 
cisely 8.15  A.  M.  from  the  Union  Depot.    The  rain,  the  night  before,  had  made  the  roads  quite 
muddy,  and,  added  to  this,  a  stiff  little  breeze  began  to  blow  right  in  my  face ;  but,  after  a  dozen 
m.  had  been  ridden,  the  latter  turned  around  in  my  favor.     Shrewsbury  hill  was  dimbed  and  the 
town  pump  reached  without  any  trouble,  and  I  flew  down  the  hills  to  Northboro  in  very  quick 
order.     From  N.  on,  the  roads  began  to  rapidly  improve,  and  by  the  time  Southboro  was  reached 
they  were  adl  one  could  desire,  or  expect  on  that  route.    Before  this,  however,  in  leaving  N.,  1 
made  a  mistake  and  took  the  road  for  Marlboro  instead  of  the  Southboro  road.    I  had  gone 
some  distance  before  finding  out  my  mistake,  and,  as  I  had  to  go  on  still  further  before  I  could  find 
a  place  wide  enough  to  turn  round  in  without  the  liability  of  a  dismount,  it  took  me  3  min.  to  ride 
back  again  to  the  main  road.    So  I  lost  by  this  mistake  about  7  min.     I  also  made  another  error 
in  going  from  Southboro  to  Framingham,  by  taking  a  road  leading  over  a  long  hill,  very  similar 
in  size  to  the  Shrewsbury  hill,  for  I  've  since  learned  that  there  was  a  much  better  road  around 
it.     From  Framingham  on,  the  surface  was  fine  and  it  took  me  only  6  min.  to  skip  from  F.  to 
South  Framingham.    Except  one  narrow  escape  from  a  header,  nothing  occurred  between  S.  F. 
and  the  mill-dam,  where  my  cyclom.  registered  )ust  45  m.  from  W.,  and  my  watch  told  me  that  I 
bad  been  3  h.  27  min.  on  the  road.     I  must  say  I  felt  more  tired  and  used  up  after  this  ride  than 
any  other  I  ever  took,  though  the  weariness  only  lasted  a  short  time ;  and  after  dinner  I  felt  as 
good  as  ever  and  attended  the  Harvard  races  on  the  Charles  river  in  the  afternoon, — not  returning 
home  until  the  next  day.    I  consider  this  4s  m.  ride  by  far  the  best  performance  I  ever  made  on 
the  wheel.    My  next  month's  trip  down  in  Maine,  you  are  as  familiar  with  as  myself ;  and  all 
my  riding  of  any  note,  after  that,  was  done  on  the  track  and  in  road  races.    The  100  m.  race  of 
the  Boston  B.  C,  Oct.  6,  was  from  South  Natidc  to  a  little  beyond  Rowley  and  return  to 
Boston  B.  C.  house.    I  made  this  in  9h.  47  min.,  including  all  stops;  and  I  afterwards  rode 
two  or  three  25  m.  races,  whose  detaHs  I  believe  are  of  no  interest  to  you.    My  next  long  ride 
was  100  m.  without  dismount,  in  Washington.    This  was  on  a  track,  however  (your  letter  asks 
only  for  road  records),  and  I  mention  it  only  because  of  its  being  the  last  thing  I  ever  attempted 
in  public  on  the  wheel.    Nevertheless,  I  rode  out  the  year,  making  a  total  of  5000  m.,  of  wludi 
284  m.  was  in  bi.  races  and  5  m.  in  a  tri.  race,  so  you  see  most  of  my  '83  riding  was  done  00  the 
road,  after  all,  and  1200  m.  of  it  was  tricycling.    In  '84  I  rode  veiy  little,  not  over  500  m.  in  all ; 
and  in  December  I  removed  to  Beaver  Falls.    I  have  done  scarcely  any  riding  here,  however,  as 
my  business  has  demanded  the  dosest  attention.    I  think  250  m.  is  a  fair  figure  to  represent  my 
record  for  '85.    Thus,  from  the  day  I  first  took  a  header  into  some  blackberry  boshes,  in  the 
autumn  of  '80,  up  to  this  present  one  (Dec.  13,  '85),  my  mileage  may  be  called  ro,4oa    This  is 
really  underestimated,  except  for  '82-'83,  in  which  years  I  kept  a  careful  record  and  know  k  to 


i.*- 


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5i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

has  been  lor  some  yeara  connected  with  the  International  Hotel,  at  Boston  (623-625  Washing- 
ton St.),  and  has  put  this  book  on  file  at  its  oflSce,  besides  subscribing  for  a  personal  copy.     He 
was  one  of  the  "  six  in  the  Down  East  party  who  took  the  noon  boat  homeward  from  the  fog^ 
at  Lubec  "  (p.  a69);  and,  by  way  of  atoning  for  this  desertion,  he  consented  to  prepare  a  few 
personal  sUtistics  for  me,  though  his  letter  of  Feb.  15,  '84,  which  I  now  quote,  said  he  had 
never  before  published  any  :    "  My  riding  began  in  June,  '8a,  and  I  estimate  it  at  2300  for  the 
year,  though  I  made  no  registry  of  it  until  SepL    For  '83  1  've  kept  a  full  record,  and  it  shows 
H9  rides  with  a  mileage  of  369a.  and  consequently  a  remarkable  average  of  31  m.  per  ride. 
There  were  6  rides  of  between  50  and  60  m.,  3  of  between  60  and  70  m.,  x  of  73  m.,  x  of  81  m., 
X  of  103  m.,  and  1  of  1 16  m. ;  yet  I  remember  of  but  two  days  when  I  kept  the  saddle  unusuaUy 
long.    The  first  occasion  was  a  round  trip  to  Brockton ;  the  out  ride  of  aa  m.  was  made  in  x  h. 
55  min.  without  dismount ;  and  then,  after  a  5  min.  stop,  I  made  the  return  of  34  m.  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route,  in  2  h.  30  min.,  over  the  Blue  hills,  also  without  dismount.    On  thU  trip  a  pecul- 
iar  adventure  happened.    WhUe  riding  at  my  very  best  speed,  over  a  perfea  road,  I  suddenly 
noticed,  within  a  few  rods,  two  pUnks  (covering  what  proved  to  be  a  f  ull-siicd  fire  hose)  stretched 
across  the  road.     Imagine  my  pleasure  I    Yet  a  quick  glance  showed  that,  at  one  end,  there  was 
a  space  of  a  few  inches  uncovered ;  luckily  I  managed  to  turn  enough  to  take  the  lesser  of  the 
two  evils,  /.  *.,  obstructions,  and  I  did  make  ths  hose  in  safety.     I  never  had  tried  to  cross  a  hose 
before,  and  would  never  undertake  it  again,  as  I  believe  my  great  speed  at  the  time  was  all  that 
carried  me  over  safely.    My  second  long-suy-in-saddle  ride  was  Oct  4,  two  days  before  our  too 
m.  road-race,  and  was  to  get  an  idea  of  the  best  speed  we  should  be  likely  to  attain  during  the 
race.     Having  ridden  about  10  m.,  I  mounted  at  Medford,  and  rode  to  Lynn,  10  m.  in  |  h.;  then 
without  dismount  returned  to  Medford,  against  the  wind,  in  52  min.,  and  continued  thence 
home,  making  34  m.  in  all  without  dismounL     In  the  too  m.  race,  we  covered  about  60  m.  <tf 
roadway,  but  I  've  no  idea  of  the  amount  of  roadway  covered  by  ms  in  my  year's  riding,  except 
that  it  would  be  very  small,  as  there  are  but  few  roads  leading  from  the  city.     Most  of  my  rid- 
ing was  done  afternoons,  and  as  I  almost  ,always  returned  to  business  f or  i  or  3  h.  afterwards, 
it  was  a  matter  of  repetition  of  15  or  20  m.  out  and  back,  save  when  I  took  an  excursion  of  a 
day  or  two.     I  *ve  ridden  in  all  the  N.  E.  States  except  Vt.,— my  longest  straightaway  being  on 
the  return  from  the  *  Down  East  trip '  when,  in  company  with  Mr.  Waterman,  I  rode  from 
Portland  to  Boston,  123  m.  in  2  days ;  the  first  one  ending  at  Portsmouth.    This  I  consider  my 
hardest  ride,  owing  to  the  unusually  hot  weather,  and  innumerable  headers  in  the  sands  of  the 
first  day.     I  used  a  McDonnell  cyclom.  during  the  early  part  of  the  season,  but,  finding  it  in- 
correct, made  the  greater  part  of  distances  by  map-measurement  or  by  local  sign  boards."     Hb 
riding  during  the  next  two  years  brought  the  total  mileage  up  to  ii,344>  as  shown  by  his  letter  to 
me  of  Dec.  9,  '85,  containing  these  further  statistics.     "  During  '84,  I  rode  3215  m.  in  137  tides, 
average  23^  m.  to  a  ride ;  3  rides  of  more  than  50  m.,  1  of  6a  m.,  i  of  loS  m.,  and  the  annual  too 
m.  race  of  Boston  B.  C.    My  after-dark  mileage,  without  a  lantern,  was  about  370  m.     My  '85 
record  to  date  is  2137  m.,  representing  xo8  rides.    The  fact  of  my  marriage  a  year  ago  accounts 
for  my  not  wheeling  so  much  lately,— the  average  '85  ride,  you  see,  being  only  about  xo|  m. 
Nevertheless,  I  took  t  of  5s,  i  of  60  and  i  of  68 ;  doing  our  annual  xoo  m.  race  in  the  fine  time 
of  8i  h.,  even  though  the  actual  length  of  course  be  called  97  m.    In  contrast  to  your  own  habit 
of  drinking  frequently  on  the  road,  I  have  accustomed  myself  to  drink  as  little  as  possible,  so  that 
thirst  troubles  me  scarcely  any.    During  the  100  m.  race  I  rode  74  m.  before  I  touched  a  drop 
of  water,  and  I  took  some  then  only  because  it  was  handy, — not  because  I  felt  the  need  of  it. 
The  only  other  liquid  I  took  was  at  about  55  m.— (some  beef  tea),  when  I  made  my  only  stop  for 
a  rul>4own,  halting  perhaps  5  min.     About  2000  m.  of  this  year's  riding  was  done  on  my  Victor, 
the  best  wheel  I  have  ever  ridden.    In  '84  and  part  of  '85  I  rode  a  Yale  and  a  Humbcr." 

Albert  Stevens  Parsons  (b.  Nov.  x6,  1841),  treasurer  of  the  Cambridgeport  Diary  Co.,  is 
one  of  those  prominent  pioneers  of  cycling  who  ought  to  have  supplied  a  long  story  for  tfan 
record ;  though  I  in  truth  had  the  utmost  difficulty  in  forcing  him  to  relax  his  vise-like  grip  on 
even  a  few  personal  details.  His  name  was  signed  fourth  on  the  League's  original  membenldp 
list,  at  Newport  (May,  '80),  and  he  was  an  officer  in  it  till  '83,— serving  first  as  its  coiTeapoDd> 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS,  517 

ing  secretary  for  two  terms,  and  then  one  year  as  vice-president.    He  was  one  of  the  founders  of 
the  Mass.  B.  C,  Feb.,  '79,  and  its  president  in  *8o,  *8i  and  '82 ;  began  riding  in  Nov.,  ^S,  and 
took  pert  in  the  "Wheel  Around  the  Hub,"  Sept.,  '79;  was  then  a  resident  of  Cambridge, 
though  bom  at  Northfield,  and  now  lives  at  Lexii^on,  and  rides  from  his  house  there  to  his 
office  in  Cambridgeport  (105  M;^azine  st.,  ^dtere  the  "  Standard  diaries  "  are  published).    "  This 
makes  a  round  trip  of  16  m.,  and  I  take  it  almost  daily  from  May  to  December— that  is,  six 
days  in  almost  every  week.     I  Ve  had  a  daily  record  of  25  m.,  nearly  every  pleasant  day,  for 
mouths  at  a  time.    My  bicycling  has  been  continuous,  both  for  business  and  pleasure,  through  7 
seasons,  and  the  average  most  exceed  aooo  m.  a  year.     I  'm  not  able  at  this  moment  to  lay 
hands  on  the  annual  record,  but  I  may  find  it  in  time  to  send  to  you  later.     I  used  a  McDonnell 
cydom.  for  3  years  and  found  it  very  reliable ;  but,  having  lost  it,  the  second  one  which  I  got 
has  not  proved  so.    Most  of  my  riding  has  been  confined  to  Mass.,  and  my  longest  day's  record 
is  75  m.     I  rode  a  Paragon  the  first  year ;  then  a  bicycle  built  at  Newton  (by  a  man  whose 
name  just  now  escapes  me)  for  a  year ;  then  a  Standard  Columbia,  for  3  years ;  and  since,  an 
£xpert,-^he  size  of  each  being  56  in.     In  March,  '86,  I  bought  a  Coventry  Convertible  tri.,  and 
am  now  riding  that  considerably  more  than  the  bicycle.     I  continue  an  enthusiastic  believer  in 
both  bi.  and  tri.,  and  in  the  usefulness  and  importance  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen." 
To  this  brief  report  of  Dec.  10,  '8s,  I  add  a  remark  made  by  "  C.  S.  H."  {IV/Uel,  Jan.  2a,  '86): 
"  A.  S.  Parsons  hangs  to  the  honor  of  riding  a  tricycle  more  than  any  other  man  in  Boston. 
Last  year  he  covered  upwards  of  2600  m."    An  article  of  his,  descriptive  of  the  League  meet  at 
Chicago,  was  pubUshed in  the  IVkeelman  (Nov.,  '82),  and  he  also  contributed  many  pieces  to  the 
earlier  volumes  of  the  Bi.  World.    One  of  the  founders  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  Willis  Farrington 
(whom  I  remember  as  representing  that  club  in  the  escort  of  a  party  to  a  lunch  at  the  Blue  Bell, 
Milton,  after  the  League  meet  of  '8x),  sends  an  even  briefer  report,  thus,  Dec.  14,  '85  :    "  I 
bought  my  first  bicycle  in  Sept.,  '78,  and  rode  438  m.  that  year ;  mileage  for  7  seasons  since  has 
been  816,  1290,  iiai,  1364,  2580,  1857,  and  1452, — a  total  of  10,918.     Mileage  of  machines  ridden 
stands  as  follows  :    50.  in.  Stanley,  560;  52  in.  Stanley,  4142  ;  54  in.  Humber,  327;  53  in.  In> 
▼indble,  3864;  48 in.  Royal  Salvo  sociable,  233  ;  48  in.  tricycle  (hired),  no;  48  in.  Invincible 
tri.,  1394 ;  48  in.  Cripper  tri.,  288.    This  shows  2025  m.  for  tricycling,  as  compared  with  8893  m. 
00  the  bicycle,  though  I  've  not  ridden  the  bi.  at  all  in  '85.    All  my  riding  in  '83-'84  was  in 
England,  Isle  of  Wight  and  France,— the  record  on  a  sociable  tri.  being  made  with  Paul  Butler, 
Boston  B.  C,  from  London,  to  Bradford,  in  Yorkshire.     I  've  had  a  cyclom.  on  every  machine. 
First  I  used  Thompson's,  which  I  judged  to  be  correct,  but,  as  it  recorded  revolutions  only,  I 
discarded  it  for  a  McDonnell.    I  tried  several  of  these,  and  found  them  all  defective.    Then  I 
used  Botcher's.    They  went  wrong  at  first,  being  their  earlier  productions.     I  have  now  one  of 
the  latest  patterns,  ai)d  am  perfectly  ptisfied.     It  is  a  great  comfort  to  be  able  to  read  it  from 
the  saddle.     As  to  offices,  I  was  League  consul  for  Lowell,  until  I  resigned,  and  am  now  C.  T. 
C.  consul  for  Lowell ;  I  have  been  captain  of  the  Lowell  B.  C,  and  am  still  a  member  of  it,  as 
well  9S  a  life>member  of  the  Bostons."    I  judge  from  his  letter-head,  that  Mr.  F.  is  connected 
wkh  the  U.  S.  Bunting  Co.,  at  Lowell.    The  Bi.  World  oi  Dec.  25,  '85,  mentions  a  group  pho- 
tograph representing  himself,  his  wife,  his  little  girl  and  his  little  boy,  all  mounted  on  wheels, — 
together  with  the  baby,  in  a  four-wheeler,  guarded  by  the  family  dog. 

E.  A.  Hcmmenway  (b.  Feb.  4,  1857),  secretary  of  the  Tremont  B.  C,  at  Dorchester,  whose 
occupation  is  tliat  of  mechanical  draughtsman,  reports  to  me  thus:  "  I  first  mounted  at  Cnn- 
ningham's  riding  school,  July  7,  '79,  and  took  my  first  road-ride  July  18.  All  my  riding  has 
been  done  on  two  machines:  the  first  a  50  in.  Duplex  Excelsior  (6020  m.),  the  present,  a  52  in.  Ex- 
pert Columbia,  '84  pattern  (5433I  m.).  My  earliest  cyclometer  was  one  of  the  first  style  made  by 
the  Popes,  and  it  was  very  unsatisfactory.  Hw  tttaMltDf  ila  operation  being  entirely  defective, 
it  wo^  record  on  the  average  only  «M|ftjliMMHriMfl^|^liQMl  99  VtfilMCt  on  it.  My 
second  eye  was  of  ray  own  maBiltt||fefl^^^^^^^^^^HHUJftttMHBflMM||r9CCorat 

and  I  used  it  for  3200  m.    ^JS^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Km^    '^ 
made  on  a  correct  P^^^fVifll^^^^^lv^  -  -^^^^^^^^^^BP**'i>riuuan* 

ship.    In  the  first cyeiMBeMiil^r^    "^^V^^lk      ' '^^^^^^F^  ^'^^ 


5i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

and  a  good  deal  of  trouble  was  caused  thereby.  I  have  spent  considerable  time  in  repairing 
mine,  which  is  one  of  the  saYne  '84  lot  that  your  own  belonged  to,  but  I  understand  these  de- 
fects have  since  been  fully  remedied.  I  find  it  a  great  advantage  to  be  able  to  read  the  eye 
from  the  saddle,  and,  so  far  as  my  knowledge  of  such  things  goes,  I  consider  the  Butdier  the 
best.  I  have  carried  a  small  lantern  on  it  for  from  500  to  600  m.;  but  it  is  not  as  convenient  as  a 
*  King  of  the  Road,'  which  I  have  since  used  (without  the  eye,  because  a  hub-lantern  needs  an 
adjustable  friction  device  to  prevent  it  from  swinging  to  and  fro).  My  mileage  by  years  stands 
thus,— -the  new  roadway  explored  each  season  being  shown  by  parenthesis :  1058}  (450),  904^ 
(75)1  740J  (100),  isoij  (160),  12034  (80),  a7sai  (60),  3292^  (i65),—a  total  of  11,453^  (io9o>-  My 
monthly  mileage  for  '84  and  '85  may  be  compared  as  follows:  Jan.,  33I,  35I;  Feb.,  aif,  30; 
Mar.,  58},  151I;  Apr.,  ao/i,  394! ;  May,  304I,  307  J;  June,  405J,  334I ;  July,  300!,  403*;  Aug., 
361J,  441I;  Sept.,  330I.  46i| ;  Oct.,  38a|,  40if ;  Nov.,  249!.  883! ;  Dec,  io6|,  157I.  The  in- 
crease of  mileage  for  the  past  two  years  is  due  to  a  change  in  my  place  of  business,  whereby  I 
am  enabled  to  use  the  wheel  daily  in  going  to  and  from  my  work  (7  m.  each  way).  I  can  thus 
put  it  to  a  roost  practical  service  and  at  the  same  time  derive  much  benefit  from  the  daily  exer- 
cise. My  two  longest  day's  rides  were  Aug.  26,  '82,  Dorchester  to  Newburyport  and  bade, 
1032  m.  (see  BL  World,  Sept.  8,  p.  533),  and  Sept.  6,  '82,  in  annual  100  ro.  race  of  the  Boston 
B.  C.  (see  Hazlett's  '  Summary,'  fVAfeimoM,  Jan.,  '83),  when  my  individual  score  was  105^  m.'* 
The  most  widely-known  tourist  west  of  the  AUeghanies  is  Burley  B.  Ayers  (b.  Oct.  8,  1858), 
though,  like  the  trumpeter  in  the  fable,  he  gets  this  repute  more  from  his  schemes  for  iaqnring 
others  to  take  the  road  than  from  his  own  personal  achievements  on  the  wheel.  His  connection 
with  one  of  the  large  r.  r.  offices  in  Chicago  has  enabled  him,  as  chairmaui  of  the  League's 
transportation  committee,  to  take  the  proper  measures  for  convincing  the  railroad  people  in  gen- 
eral that  it  is  for  their  interest  to  encourage  bicycle  touring,  and  gain  the  good-will  of  wheelmen, 
by  carrying  passengers'  wheels  as  personal  baggage.  On  the  other  hand,  his  enthusiasm  as  a 
tourist  has  inspired  him  to  plan  and  "  personally  conduct "  the  largest  and  most  impressive  dis- 
plays of  practical  wheelmanship  that  have  ever  anywhere  been  witnessed.  His  three  annual 
tours  through  Canada  (alluded  to  on  pp.  198,  215,  314*  320,  509)  have  proved  so  satisfactory  and 
increasingly  successful  as  to  lead  the  League  to  invest  him  with  the  special  office  of  "  tonmas- 
ter,"  in  order  that  the  fourth  tour  ('86)  may  be  directly  tmder  its  auspices.  Readers  of  the 
cycling  press  have  for  years  been  familiar  with  his  name  or  initials  as  a  signature  of  contribu- 
tions which  are  pretty  certain  to  be  readable,  though  his  "  readiness  "  as  a  writer  occasionally 
leads  him  to  indulge  in  pleasing  generalities  that  are  somewhat  at  variance  with  the  hard  facts 
of  the  case.  E.  g.y  the  stupidly  vexatious  customs  regulations  of  Canada—which,  if  strictly  en- 
forced, would  prohibit  United  States  citizens  from  attempting  to  penetrate  that  country  with 
their  bicycles — have  been  alluded  to  by  him  in  a  printed  latter  as  if  entirely  satisfactory  (see  p. 
3ti);  while  a  glowing  phrase  of  his,  in  the  prospectus  of  the  "  clerical  wheelmen's  Canadian 
tour,"  declaring  that  "  ail  the  roads  there  are  like  boulevards,"  would  have  led  to  his  being  torn 
limb  from  limb, — ^if  the  deceived  clergymen  could  have  got  bodily  hold  of  him,  when  exasper- 
ated to  the  pitch  of  desperation  by  a  40  m.  tramp  across  roads  which  at  best  are  barely  walka- 
ble !  As  he  was  in  fact  beyond  their  reach,  the  only  sdace  left  them  was  to  remember  him  in 
their  prayers,— and  tntst  the  non-clerical  half  of  the  party  to  do  the  cursing  (see  p.  334).  His 
escape  from  destruction  by  their  righteous  wrath  was  a  happy  thing  for  the  cause  of  cycling, 
since  (spealung  in  all  seriousness)  there  are  not  many  Americans  who  have  done  more  to  advance 
that  cause  than  himself.  Much  can  easily  be  forgiven  the  man  who  has  accomplished  much ; 
and  my  object  in  thus  noting  these  little  slips  from  accuracy,  which  can  hardly  be  helped  wiien 
an  exuberant  fancy  expresses  itself  in  the  rapid  manipulation  of  a  type-writer,  is  rather  to  D- 
lustrate  the  rule  that  all  men  have  their  limitations,  than  to  detract  anything  from  the  respect 
due  for  solid  results  actually  brought  to  pass.  As  I  wished,  too,  to  give  his  story  a  sizafak  sort 
of  paragraph  in  this  book  (for  the  drift  of  thought  which  finally  led  me  to  conceive  the  laea  of 
writing  it  was,  in  a  sense,  set  in  motion  by  some  hearty  praise  of  his  concerning  ray  "  234 " 
reminiscences  in  the  Whetlmtui^,  I  was  forced  to  "  cover  space  "  by  providing  a  long  introduc- 
tion to  it ;  because  the  longest  autobiography  I  could  extract  from  him  was  this  :    "  I  be;g9& 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  519 

riding  a  46  in.  Arid,  Oct.  5,  *79,—*the  same  month  the  Chicago  B.  C  was  organiiftH,— and  I 
wheeled  200  m.  that  year ;  rode  a  Sundard  Columbia  in  '80,  a  54  in.  D.  H.  F.  Premier  from  '81 
to  '84,  and  a  54  in.  Victor  in  '85 ;  took  a  fortnight's  tour,  around  Grand  Rapids,  Mich.,  the  fijst 
month  I  learned  to  ride,  and  engaged  in  annual  three  days*  runs  of  the  Milwaukee  B.  C,  in 
Waukesha  Co.,  Wis.,  in  '80,  '81  and  '83,  besides,  of  course,  the  Canadian  tours  of  '83,  '84  and 
'85.  My  mileage  is  fully  x3,ioo,  and  its  distribution  through  the  last  six  seasons  was  about  as 
follows :    1300,  2400,  a  100,  2200,  1800  and  aibo.    My  birthplace  was  Lambeth,  Ontario." 

Thoi^h  the  Chicago  B.  C.  proclaims  itself  very  little  in  the  papers,  it  is  one  of  the  perma- 
nent institutions  of  that  wide-awake  city,  and  has  pn4>ably  done  more,  in  a  quiet  way,  to  get  cy- 
cling well  established  and  respected,  in  the  great  central  section  of  the  continent,  than  any  simi- 
lar agency  west  of  the  Atlantic  slope.  Its  captain,  Norton  H.  Van  Sicklen  (b.  Feb.  9,  i860  ?), 
made  the  notable  recoid  of  5078I  m.  in  '84,  which  was  tabulated  thus  by  months  ^Spr.  IVh.  Gtu., 
Feb.,  '85,  p.  i6o)  :  Jan.,  95 ;  Feb.,  91! ;  Mar.,  124 i  Apr.,  385^ ;  May,  458^ ;  June,  553  ;  July, 
438i ;  Aug.,  703  ;  SepL,  447 ;  Oct.,  578 ;  Nov.,  886 ;  Dec,  319.  He  confirmed  the  authenticity 
of  this  in  a  letter  to  me  (Jan.  20,  '86),  saying  that  he  estimated  his  total  riding  as  9000  ro.  addi- 
tional, whereof  '85  should  be  accredited  with  4500,  and  '83  with  2500,  though  he  did  not  keep  a 
monthly  recoxad  of  mileage  in  either  year.  The  letter  adds :  **  I  learned  to  nde  the  bl  in  Dec, 
'79,  and  think  my  mileage  was  at  least  aooo,  on  rented  and  borrowed  machines,  before  I  bought 
a  wheel  of  my  own,  at  the  close  of  '82.  I  've  used  but  two  makes  of  cyclometers, — the  McDon- 
nell and  the  Butcher  (petite), — and  I  account  a  good  one  of  the  former  much  better  than  a  good 
one  of  the  latter.  My  experience  with  this  has  been  very  unsatisfactory,— the  cam  being  too 
flexible  and  the  rubber  coming  off, — while  one  of  my  McDonnells  has  registered  3000  m.  and  is 
still  correct.  During  '84  I  used  two  of  them,— one  on  a  56  in.  Expert,  which  registered  over 
4200  m.  in  a  year,  and  one  on  a  57  in.  Yale,  which  I  rode  only  a  few  hundred  m.  in  '84.  As  for 
separate  road,  I  've  wheeled  about  1200  m.  of  it :  111.,  Ind.,  O.,  N.  Y.,  Minn,  and  Ont.  My 
first  road  ride  was  in  Oct.,  '80,  I  think, — a  trip  with  the  club  to  S.  Chicago  and  back.  My  first 
race  was  Feb.  22,  '83 ;  and,  if  you  care  to  mention  my  path  performances,  I  suggest  that  Mr. 
Ayers  might  send  a  more  impartial  account  of  them  than  I  can  "  (see  p.  321). 

During  the  previoiu  year,  another  member  of  the  same  club,  who  was  then  Us  vice-prendent 
and  a  confl|tl  of  the  League,  made  an  even  higher  record,— ^running  up  an  annual  mileage  far  in 
excess  of  any  before  accredited  to  an  American.  This  was  Frank  £.  Yates  (b.  May  18,  1843), 
well  known  as  an  oarsman  at  double  sculls,  with  W.  B.  Curtis  and  C.  £.  Courtney  as  partners, 
and  as  the  winner  of  some  75  single-scull  races,  which  included  the  American  amateur  cham- 
pionship in  '74  and  '76.  He  began  riding  the  bL  Oct.  17,  '82,  and  probably  accomplished  200 
m.,  though  he  took  no  note  of  it.  His  '83  record,  in  addition  to  333  m.  of  tricycling,  was  5052 
m.,  distributed  through  the  months  as  follows  :  Jan.,  no;  Feb.,  218^;  Mar.,  383 ;  Apr.,  61 7^ ; 
May,  228;  June,  573;  July,  402;  Aug.,  468:  Sept.,  568;  Oct.,  437;  Nov.,  69S;  Dec,  349. 
His  letter  which  enclosed  these  scores  to  me  Quly  ■'>  '^)  s^ud:  **  The  large  figures  are  ac- 
counted for  by  the  fact  that  I  am  an  enthusiast  at  bicycling,  and  my  business  is  such  as  to  enable 
me  to  ride  20^  h.  out  of  the  34,  should  I  feel  disposed,  since  I  am  engaged  only  during  Board  of 
Trade  hours  (9.30  a.  m.  to  i  p.  ic.).  My  riding  was  done  almost  entirely  on  the  streets  and 
boulevards  and  in  the  parks  of  the  city,  save  two  trips  to  South  Chicago  and  one  to  Riverdale, 
probably  100  m.  all  told.  My  wife  having  a  tricycle,  we  frequently  were  out  as  late  as  12  o'clock 
at  night,  and  I  presume  she  must  have  ridden  nearly  2000  m.  during  the  year,  although  I  kept  no 
record  of  it.  My  longest  day's  ride  was  78  m.  The  cyclometer  used  was  the  McDonnell, 
though  I  tried  about  half  a  doien  before  I  got  one  that  was  correct.  My  wheel  was  a  $4  in. 
Columbia  Expert,  during  the  last  nine  months,  for  until  March  31  I  rode  a  5a  in.  Expert;  and, 
except  for  two  headers  (one  with  each  wheel,  breaking  two  handle-bars  and  one  crank),  they 
never  cost  roe  a  cent  for  repairs.  My  54  in.  is  apparently  as  good  as  new ;  at  any  rate,  I  would 
not  exchange  it  for  any  wheel  in  the  world.  During  the  first  half  of  '84,  I  've  ridden  only  1509 
m.,  my  afternoons  being  taken  up  with  other  affairs,  and  I  've  kept  no  monthly  record."  A 
postscriiyt  of  Dec.  10,  '85,  adds:  "  From  Aug.,  '84, 1  was  traveling  through  California,  Oregon, 
Montana,  Washington  Territory  and  elsewhere,  and  dki  not  return  to  Chicago  till  May  i.    My 


520  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Kcod  wu  ttin  bmkcn  up,  bu  t  prcnme  I  m^j  hiTC  wtmlal  isoo  n.  lbi>  yar.  I  tbould  be 
flskd  la  KG  jour  book  nuke  nontion  of  Miu  Aniiw  SjLTUKr,  who  a  Knday  Ihr  £dme  buTtJt 
ri^crin  Ibewofld,  tmv"    A*  Mr  Y.  u  now  tbe  banneH  fDuagcr  of  Ifaii  tciaarkable  peifonoEr, 

giBapt  99  to  begnH^  Ibe  ^uce  for  a  brief  deaotptire  extract  from  bii  circular ;  "  Tliii  ^ra- 
Icaa  quaen  of  the  cydjita,  the  world^a  ackiiowledged  charRpion  ladj  trick  and  fancy  ndcTj  met 
bolb  the  Columbia  and  Star  l^cycEea  in  her  marrriotig  exbibilioiu,  She  i*  the  omi^  ladj  wbo  hai 
cnr  ridden  the  Sur,  and  the  finl  and  solr  Udy  to  laxnt^ab  tbe  diScall  feat  of  riding  a  nctle 
whed-  She  H  uqivcxiaJly  conceded  to  be  the  moat  graceful  rider  lirin^,  and  haa  never  yet  re- 
Ceired  an  adTcrae  criliciun  cither  from  the  preaa  or  her  aodirncca  " 

Uuh'i oldeil  rider  ia probably  Geo.  J.  Taylor  (b.  Jan.  31,  iSji),0De  of  theeditonof  the 
Dtttnl  Etmiag  Jffwt,  mA  oxodct  of  Sail  Like  County,  Khoae  letter  lo  me  (Aog.  16,  It) 
•aid :  "  I  yeaisday  railed  my  mileage  lecoid  Id  id,oo6.— beisg  led  Ikereln  by  pruttire  of  brai- 
neB  whkli  kept  me  00  the  wheel,  for  I  had  doi  iolended  to  6ni>h  nntil  the  iSih,  id  a>  to  mike 
eaaclly  five  yean  of  it.  1  began  Aug.  iq,  '79,  wilh  a  4!  in.  Colnmbta.  aitd  rode  ijoo  tn.  that 
year ,  gradually  increuing  aftenvarda  until  in  *8j  I  nude  1500  m.  My  oecvid  wheel  wai  a  50 
in.  Harvard,  all  bri^t,  and  1  now  uae  a  ^  in.  Eiperl,  nidieled,  with  cadle  spring,  thoeEh  I 
coidd  ride  a  ja  in.  My  loogeal  airaigbtaway  tour  vai  56  m.;  longeu  riding  from  9  a,  u.  liB 
dmk,  50  m.',  Bwifteat  ridCj  on  a  rather  rough  road,  t;  m.  in  1^  b."  "The  beat  ryclom.  il  Ihf 
Pedle  Bntcber,  which  weight  only  a  at,  and  never  (aHa  toregieteT  correctly,"  taya  hii  note  of 
I^ec  JJ, 'Ss,  which  eodoaea  an  extract  fmn  tbe  Nfm,  dcacrtplive  of  a  patent  which  waa 
granted  him  July  aS,  tbui:  "  The  imprnvemeul  conuria  of  a  ihort  lever  altadied  to  the  unul 
pedai.[Hn  extending  Kveial  inehea  rearward,  where  it  ia  hinged  to  a  iwinging  fnlcmm-rod,  whidi 
rod  it  hinged  to  the  upper  pan  of  the  fork,  thereby  allowing  the  lever  10  follow  the  crack  rao< 
lion  with  almnal  abiolule  freedcm  from  fiiclkin,  while  at  Ibe  nnie  time  it  acta  ai  a  felcniin  fa- 
lb(  lever,  which  wilh  the  pedal  proiecli  forward  of  the  Bank  lar  enough  to  gi»e  a  contideraUe 
advantage  in  leverage  over  the  Didiniry  crank.  The  added  weight  on  IH*  mdiiiie  need  at* 
exceed  I  lbs-,  and  ttie  friction  ia  lodighi  that  when  Ihe  vrheel  ra  auapeihied  it  will  run;  or  6iniq- 
withoutatopping.  11a  advaolagea  are  thai  it  givei  the  rider  more  power  in  driving  hiiwbeel, 
while  a(  the  Bjne  time  it  ihoTtena  the  fool  motion  aeveral  in.,  giving  a  Irmg,  full  downslroke, 
which  paaees  the  dead  cmter,  with  a  tnmpaiatively  ahort  npBroke.  Tbe  nank^iin  can  alw  be 
nod  aaa  pedal,  giving  a  uDI  ihorter  nwilan  for  down  hill  and  nay  grade*,  thereby  avoiding  the 
'  n  of  the  ordinary  cnnli.  II  will  a)»  adntit  of  a  foot- 
MheT  advantage  is,  Ihat  by  lirap^y  lowering  the  iukranwod. 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


521 


doD,  liking  it  better  than  any  previous  wheel.  As  I  did  a  great  deal  of  riding  during  the  i\ 
years  I  used  the  Special,  I  can  safely  say  that  I  pushed  it  more  than  15,000  m.  It  is  still  ridden 
here  in  town,  in  fair  condition.  My  first  Columbia  is  also  running  around  here  to-day,  with 
the  original  tire  upon  its  front  wheel.  During  the  13  months  that  I  used  it  I  wore  the  front 
bearings  out  three  times.  I  had  them  renewed  twice,  and  then,  when  the  wheel  got  so  loose  as 
to  rub  against  the  brake,  I  sold  it  to  a  machinist  who  put  jn  ball-bearings  and  a  new  axle.  Ex- 
cept  during  these  times  of  repair,  it  has  been  in  use  neariy  every  ridable  day  for  upwards  of  7 
years;  and  would  thus  make  a  good  mate  for  your  *  No.  234.' 

"My  riding  has  all  been  done  in  New  Jersey,  south  of  Camden,  where  we  have  a  con- 
siderate mileage  of  good  roads — ^the  best  straightaway  run  being  40  m.,  through  Salem  and  AU 
bwaystown  to  Woodstown.  This  round-trip  of  80  m.  represenu  my  longest  day's  ride  ;  and 
once  while  returning  from  it  (Oct.,  '84),  as  I  did  not  happen  to  meet  any  bad  horses  or  worse 
drivers,  I  came  along  easily  for  39  m.  without  a  dismount,  in  a)  h.  This  is  a  sandy  country, 
and,  as  our  roads  are  made  of  gravel  or  clay,  they  do  not  long  remain  muddy.  We  have  consid- 
erable fair  riding  through  the  winter,  and  during  the  last  \  of  the  year  I  make  good  use  of  ten 
moonlight  nights  each  month,  if  the  weather  is  clear.  As  I  live  }  m.  from  the  oflke,  I  wheel 
back  and  forth  and  also  on  all  business  errands;  and  every  pleasant  afternoon,  from  5.30  till 
dark,  will  find  me  in  the  saddle.  This  year,  I  am  neariy  always  accompanied  on  these  evening 
spins  by  my  10  year  old  son,  Albertus  (who  is  getting  to  be  quite  a  rider,  and  makes  short  trips 
independently,  both  before  and  after  school) ;  and  my  '8$  mileage  is  much  less  than  usual,  on 
this  account,  for  my  after-supper  ride  is  now  only  10  or  15  m.,  instead  of  ao  or  25  m.  which  it 
used  to  be  when  I  rode  alone.  As  I  have  a  heavy  set  of  books  to  keep,  my  touring  is  almost 
entirely  confined  to  Sundays."  His  postscript  of  Jan.  z,  '86,  adds:  "  My  riding  for  the  last  10 
mos.  amounted  to  4710  m.,  of  which  1x034  ^'^  registered  from  March  5  to  May  31,  and  3606I 
for  the  rest  of  the  year,  distributed  thus:  June,  625 ;  July,  574]  ;  Aug  (vacation),  310;  Sept., 
646I ;  Oct.,  564! ;  Nov.,  468} ;  Dec.,  417^.  All  through  Dec,  our  roods  have  been  excellent, 
— better  than  in  summer, — and  they  are  so  still ;  for  we  've  had  very  little  freezing  weather  and  no 
snow.  Up  to  March  5,  I  never  used  a  cyclom.«  or  attempted  to  keep  a  record.  The  Butcher 
which  I  then  attached  registered  with  perfect  accuracy  to  Nov.  38,  from  which  time  it  has  lost 
from  I  to  I  on  nearly  every  m.,  as  the  bearings  are  getting  badly  worn.  They  require  to  be 
frequently  tinkered,  to  keep  them  right,  and  I  believe  mine  would  wear  out  before  running  up 
to  10,000  m.  I  've  been  obliged  also  to  fasten  the  balance  weight  with  rivets.  The  instrument 
must  always  be  somewhat  of  a  nuisance,  with  the  bearings  in  their  present  shape." 

An  appropriate  companion-piece  to  the  foregoing  is  the  report  of  James  D.  DowKng  (b. 
Aug.  z,  1835),  a  resident  of  Camden,  at  536  Broadway,  though  his  pbice  of  business  is  in  Phila., 
at  406  Penn  st.  He  learned  to  ride  the  ordinary  bicycle,  by  taking  a  dozen  lessons  in  Oct.,  '81, 
but  bought  a  51  in.  Star,  at  second  hand.  May  10,  '82,  and  has  used  it  ever  since,  though  it  shows 
signs  of  hard  wear.  His  son  Harry  (b.  Aug.  6,  1870)  learned  on  a  wooden  bicycle,  in  Sept.,  *8i, 
and  in  Dec.  bought  a  43  in.  wheel  which  he  has  since  ridden,  in  company  with  his  father,  who 
writes:  "  Oiu-  mileage  record  from  May  10  to  Dec.  31,  *8i,  was  1871 ;  in  '83,  2501 ;  and  in  '84, 
1920,— representing  excursions  to  different  points  in  N.  J.,  Pa.,  and  Del.,  varying  from  10  to  66 
m.  straightaway  from  home.  When  I  say  that  my  son  was  with  me  on  almost  all  the  day's  rides 
whose  record  is  from  30  to  80  m.,  the  story  seems  quite  a  creditable  one  for  him.  In  '85,  he  got 
rather  out  of  the  habit  of  riding  with  me,— panly  from  illness,  which  confined  him  early  in  the 
year;  partly  from  outgrowing  his  wheel,  and  partly  from  a  naturally  increasing  preference  for 
comrades  of  his  own  age, — so  that  I  *ve  had  his  younger  brother  Jo^  (b.  Dec.  12, 1873)  for  a  com- 
panion, on  his  36  in.  Otto,  which  he  began  riding  in  July,  '82.  He  holds  out  well  for  short 
trips  of  20  m.,  but  I  do  not  think  it  well  to  push  him  farther,  as  his  wheel  runs  rather  hard.  My 
oldest  son,  z.  27,  is  not  a  rider,  and  I  cannot  get  my  three  daughters  to  try  the  tricycle,  as  their 
mother  is  opposed  to  it.  In  summer,  my  daughters  stay  a  good  deal  at  Moorestown,  where  I 
onoe  resided,  and  it  is  my  custom  to  spend  many  evenings  there,— leaving  Omden  about  7  and 
returning  about  11.  I  wheel  the  10  m.  in  65  to  70  min.  and  return  in  55  to  60  min.,  as  the  grade 
»  down  to  C.    Another  favorite  evening  ride  of  mine  I  call  the  triangle.    The  first  '^''-  *■ 


522  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

a  uMLEiihnuni,sin..iiTalUiiibuttDod.  The  bue.  Invi  M.  E.  to  Hadili>iiGeld,3  m,,lu>a 
faol'PUh  all  the  my,  ihc  Sru  1  m.  on  l  ude,  Ihe  mi  cm  n.  The  Iriansle's  ibjrd  tide,  from  H. 
to  [he  itUning  point  V  C-,6iP'»i(aincvclaQdsii£bIly  dawD-gndc  1  have  often  done  tbe  14  m. 
wllhoul  diimouni  in  ■!  h.    The  road  from  Gloucuter  to  Wcwdbuiy,  4  m.,  and  through  W.,  i 

ride  wa>  taken  Nov.  u,  to  Quikcnowu  and  back,  34  m.  My  record  for  >3j,  ibowing  ihe  nulc- 
aLge,  Ihe  riding  daysi  and  (he  longest  ride  for  ciicb  moDIh,  it  u  folloMrs:  Jjin-,  to,  1,10  \  F«b., 
41,  l,ao;  Mar..  13..  11,15;  Ap..,i45,  i»,ij-,  May,  j6;,  lo,  46 1 /urn,  197,  u.  40;  July,  jSj,  14. 
by,  Aug.,  jss,  ii,6;;  Sepc.,)4j,  i3,6ai  OcL,  199,  10,40;  Nov.,  jsi,  '>,  ^4;  Dec.,  sS,  4,  lo. 
Thii  ^vei  a  total  o(  ijM  lor  the  year,  and  SBSa  ioc  Iht  4  ytan.  In  early  tpdng  ax  weU  a*  in 
fall,  the  gravel  pikes  which  an  the  nile  b  N*  J.  are  aomewhal  eofi ;  biu  m  bunnieT  (her  are 
good.    The  atone  pikct  are  generally  heavy  after  a  long  rain ;  also  in  (be  fal 

which  makei  uugh  riding,  ai  ir  doei  not  pack  until  fron  comes,  and  then  it  often  freeic 
rutty.  The  gravel  pikei  in  N.  J.  are  uiaped  ifUi  each  snow,  and,  11  it  is  freesing  weaihe 
are  magnlhceiii  then — as  smooth  as  a  floor.  As  the  young  men  around  here  wlu  arc  fim 
30  yean  old  are  afraid  of  the  cold,  and  I  do  not  care  to  ride  muchalone^  1  do  riot  do  much 


riding.     Hnweve 

,  1  have  ridd 

n  several 

imesbolh 

on  the  £ 

Ela 

wuean 

d  Schuyk 

In 

vers  when 

froten  and  found 

1  splendid  spo 

uly  drawback  being 

■lips  from  under 

mpling  10 

do  so.     [ 

give  you 

diiun 

H  in  m.hy  gravel  pike, 

ith  I  hav 

madelh 

iday 

back  day's  rido  as  folkiws:    Mt.  Ephraim,  s  ;  Hadduugeld, 

»,;MtHolly,.c 

i  Burlington. 

SlBord 

mown,  35 

Woodb 

■5,NeHeekl.jj 

Vineland,  j8 

ndmn.  IS 

ngton,  15 

llaveabBridde 

fromPhib. 

gton  and 

gDne6m. 

further,  10  Newcastle;  and  1 

E. 

and  relur 

nid 

by  train. 

Except  in  a  few 

»es,whenth> 

■tan  has 

been  mad 

as  early 

and  lb.  [ 

home  as 

lateasSp.  M.,m 

y  day's  rides  ■ 

thmyso 

nhave  bet 

brc 

kfast 

nd  ended 

leason  for 

gard.  the  prea,  I  've  printed  piecei  in  the  Wkalmtm,  Feb.,  'Si ;  Bi.  H'^JJ,  Mar..  '81 ;  Jft. 
t*t»&,  June,  '81  (deecripiion  of  ride  10  Reading),  and  two  in  the  FUU.  CyUimt  Riitrd,  .88j." 
Dt.  Geo.  F,Fi»ke(b.  Jan.  16.  i860}  has  been  described  on  p.  iij  asoneof  the  very  earhesl 
of  the  long.distance  men  1  and  his  letter  to  me  from  Gikllingen  (Feb.  ag.  '84)  reaib  thuii 
"  My  riding  record  is  now  rD.KO  m..  though  this  does  nol  cover  my  lotal  luiieagE,  for  no  ram 
can  keep  conni  of  all  hi>  tadng-pnclice  anU  little  tpini.     It  was  in  the  Ham  mtns..  lasl  Nov.. 
thai  I  reached  Ihe  lo/uo  m.  limit.    I  have  driven  Ihe  bi.  3410  m,  in  i>  successive  months,  and  I 
last  summer  covered  108;  m.  in  |o  snecessive  days.    This  was  in  effect  an  almost  conlinuiiia 
trail,  though  I  broke  it  once  by  liking  steamer,  and  once  by  (aking  train,  besides  croning  tst 
bridge  on  Ihe  cars,    I  've  taken  several  tours  ol  from  aoo  lo  joo  m.    My  longest  stay  rn  (he 
saddle  was  41  m.    The  other  day.  I  went  from  G.  to  Hanover,  7;  m..  against  a  rather  sharp 
wind,  without  having  to  walk  ■  step.  ;  «.  h.  Idj.io  p.  h.    My  riding  time  was  ;)  h,,bir  I  was 
in  poor  practice,  and  went  to  sleep  1  h.  at  Elie,  besides  giving  t  h.  to  breakfast ;  otkerwiie  1 
eould  easily  have  got  to  H.  al  i  o'doci 
Bnt  for  long  tours.    The  chief  obsticli 
can  be  walked  through  in  10  min.    I 
.  inclined  to  patronise  the  highesl-prtcj 
days'  trip  with  them,  along  the  Rhine 
by  myself,  from  Ostend  to  G..  cost  on 

now  11,000  m.    1  first  mourned    the) 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  523 

thnni^  Poushlicepue  VHi  Alhan^^  u  Sinto^  uid  buk  to  P.^  loo  m.,  wlibouL  any  rCHin  la 
uuu  (ke  p.  141).  F.  L.  Bigelow  wu  my  <snipaDuiii  lU  Ibt  wif  i  R.  T.  Law  (a  clauioiie  of 
mine  in  Aobtnl  'Si)  joined  in  u  P.;  and  our  hall-day'i  ride  of  it  f.  IhcTice  up  Ihc  Huduo  (j 
A.  u.  10  I  r-  Ur)  we  thought  quiifl  an  vaplojl  al  thai  time,  I  am  now  juAt  on  the  eve  of  a  Enind 
tour,  for  I  've  nearly  finlahed  my  ttudiea  here  (eye  apeoaltiea),  and  hope  ID  CDver  at  leafll  5000 

be^  pradice  in  Chicagn,  though  my  birthplace  waa  MadiaOfi,  Ct-" 

ElKolt  Ma»D  (b,  Feb.  11,  1II51),  manager  of  Ibe  N,  Y,  office  ol  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  at  11 
Winentt.,  if  mentioned  by  the  O'iitl.im.  11,  '86,  » the  only  member  ol  the  Citiieiu  B.  C. 
who  hai  yel  mada  a  "  century  run  "  (s6  m.,  Cobourg  In  Kinpton,  Aug.  iK,  'Ss ;  "w  p.  jjj), 
and  as  the  second  man  in  the  dub  in  respect  to  mileage  for  'B5,— his  lecoid  being  jojj,  as  com- 
pared with  Philip  Fontaine's  jao;,  T.  C.  Smith's  iSoj,  W.  H.  McCormack'i  iy&  and  W.  B. 
Knig>aii«9.— the  latter  reproenting  a  Facile.  From  notes  of  conversation  with  Mr.  E.,  I 
preaenl  these  facts  about  hii  earlier  wheeilug  t  Between  Sept., '79,  and  Dec, 'Si,  he  rods 
13,000  m.,  as  measured  by  Pope  cyelom.— his  aTsrage  being  iSl  m,  a  day.  During  nearly  lo 
months  of  this  period,  he  waa  a  school  teacher  1I  Vonkera,  and,  except  Sundays,  he  rode  aU 
most  daily,  apending  about  all  his  time  in  the  saddle  when  not  engaged  in  school  duties.  In  the 
spring  of  '3i,  be  went  to  Boston,  to  enter  the  employ  of  the  Popes  ;  removing  to  N.  Y.  a  year 
later,  to  open  their  riding-icbool  andaalearoom  on  34th  at.  He  wheeled  not  less  than  5011  m.  in 
'gl,— nearly  all  of  it  in  the  c 

longeitatay  in  thesaddlewBsa  round  trip  of  a61  m.    His  rule  of  "  no  good  oBet  refused"  led 

m.  was  done  on  a  51  in.  Standard  Columbia,  and  be  now  rides  a  $«  in.  Eipert,  Centaur 
and  Club  jo  in.  have  also  been  tried  by  him.  Three  backboDes  have  been  broken,  dur- 
ing his  usage,  but  without  injury  to  himself.  Ritchie's  magnetic  cydom.  he  praises,  u  having 
been  absolutely  accurate  in  his  own  eKperience,  and  as  the  only  variety  which,  aa  a  dealer, 
he  haa  not  heard  any  complaint  of.  His  wile  is  a  rider  of  the  tricyde.  I  believe  the  aan» 
can  be  truly  recorded  as  to  the  mfe  of  Will  R.  IHtman  (b,  April  ti,  i&4q),  who,  in  a 
talk  had  with  tne,  Nov.  iS,  'S4,  said  he  *d  done  about  ijoa  m.  of  tricycling,  that  year,  and,  if  1 

cyding  of  the  year  hardly  amounted  10  lo  m.  In  'Sj,  he  did  a  good  deal  of  radng  (Nov.  17, 
Iiion  road-ncc,  itjm.,  was  won  inioh,!  see  WAwAwm,  Mat. ,  '84,  p  457).  and  bis  probable 

at  Bangor,  his  native  town  ;  and  he  went  thence  in  Jan.,  'ff,,  to  Boston,  tor  his  AisI  eiperienca 


dem  Incyde,  at  the  riding-H^ool  0 

toHa- 

and  a  later  one,  from  Fitchbor;  to  Bosto 

beral  nodce  m  the  papers.    Darin 

g  the  tuoe  that  he  was  employed  by  the 

Popea 

.),  he  apent  nlmost  every  h.  of  leisi 

are  in  the  aaddle.-riding  regularly  from 

4  to; 

,  his  longest  trip  being  fnjm 
League's  lirsl  pamdeatNew- 
aded  some  riding  at  Washing- 


le  dose  of  '84-    The  b 


524  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Ken  Dapld  Eiccliiar,  Columbia  ('Bi-'Si)  ind  Hiunbct  ('Sj) ;  ; 
c  c^ilnud  in  BoatoiL,  in  auluma  of  '79,  wat  the  fint  oiv  ever 


Ihui  Bheclcd  tor  Ihii  iiriclly  piadical  purpoK  ('81  10  'Sj)  ntpmenl  a  iiviog  of  664  b.,  or  «6 
working  days,  ei^uivalent  id  caih  10  f  400,  while  my  whceli  have  cg>l  leu  Ihaii  \  xiai  luin.  Thk 
'  buuneu  mileage  >  □[  mine,  amnged  by  yean,  Uands  thus;  goS,  iigj,  iiiS,  idjo,  and  loS;; 
and  it  has  in  eSecl  added  an  average  of  iit  dayt  to  tny  lile  each  year,  wiihoul  reganl  10  iti  in. 
direO  advantage,  in  praerving  my  genera!  health.     I  rode  in  The  annual  ^mnBioDi  of  Ibe 

Hanford  (Oct.  11,  'S;|,  »hich  1  aoompliihed  with  only  two  diunovntL  Tfae  round  trip  oi  ig 
m.  to  MolyolEe  and  back  1  have  taken  twice.  These  aix  case*  compriK  the  whole  of  my  wheeW 
jng  outside  the  city,  and  the  sum  oE  ihem  all  is  insigniEic^nt  in  companion  with  my  *  bdaiiiev 
mileage.*  My  earlicsl  wheel  wax  a  «!  in.  Hamtd,  which  I  rode  fiom  May  jo,  'Bo,  to  the  ckiae 
oi  la ;  I  had  a  jo  in.  Sanipanil  toe  the  next  two  yean,  and  in  '85  have  ridden  ■  ja  in.  Vicur 
and  a  nickeled  Expert,  bfth  of  which  I  Mill  retain.  1  uxdlhc  Euslaior  cydom., '81  to 'Sj,  the 
Butcher  in  '84,  and  the  Lakin  in  '85 1  and,  ai  far  as  1  can  judge,  the  latter  is  the  best.  1 
OTEanizedlhe  Springfield  B.  C-,  May  JT,  *8[, and faavebeenilapreflidentevcr  dncc.  My  resi- 
dence in  Ihii  city  dales  from  April  ly.  '6}  1  the  previous  leu  yean  having  been  spent  in  Brook- 

manied  Nov.  4,  186S,  and  have  nine  children.  My  wife  and  (m  oUest  giria  aie  Hden  of  ihe 
tricycle."  An  excellent  portrail  of  Mr.  D.  may  be  found  among  the  lilhograpAic  likeueases  of 
cycling  editor*  in  the  London  "  iV^tftinf  Annual  for  '86  "  (p.  16).  alongside  (hat  of  its  pub- 
lisher, Harry  Elherington.  His  editorial  work  upon  the  maothly  SfriMsfitld  Wluilmtn't  G— 
•tlU,  which  waa  begun  in  May,  '8],  ai  a  means  for  pnKlaiming  the  annual  racing  tounumeni  of 
Ibe  club,  iaall  doae  outside  of  office  hours,  so  aa  not  to  conflict  with  his  duties  as  auperinlendent 
of  the  Springfield  Printing  Co.    He  baa  held  Ibis  positioo  since  '80;  and  in  '8;  was  chosen 

Spring6eld,  the  capital  city  of  lllinDis,  hual  least  onepeniilenlwbeelman,  1,  J.  Kincl  (b. 
Apr.  aS,  1S65),  a  clolfiing  dealer,  who  reports  to  me  thus:  "  I  began  in  '77,  on  a  bone-ahakcr 
(no  lbs.),  which  I  regularly  rode,  between  the  house  and  store,  besides  taking  two  trips  of  ij 
m.  and  one  of  aom-  So  I  probably  covered  ;oo  to  600  m.  with  it,  before  Feb.,  '78,  when  1 
boughtaSt.  Nicholasln.,notmuchbetter,  which  I  UKdforabout  700  m.  Between  Mar., '7^ 
andjuly, '8o,IrDds>omeisoom.ona46in.  Colombia;  then  10  July,  'Si,  about  ijoo  m.  oo 
an  English  machbie ;  then  to  end  of  '8],  iioom.,  bycyclom,,  on  a  ja  in.  nickeled  Eipen;  U)  ' 
end  of  '84,  j)oo  m.,  on  a  s6  in.  Expert,  McDonnell  cjclora.;  to  July,  '8;,  ijoo  ra.,  by  Butcher 
cyckm.;  to  Dec,  iioo  m.,  on  a  ;3  in.  Victor,  ¥iith  Church  cydom.  This  show*  a  loUl  of  ibool 
11,400  m.  Longest  ride,  Chicago  10  Milwaukee  and  back,  i8a  m.,  m  lA  h.;  second  best.  S.  to 
Joliet,  107  m.,  in  3  days  of  about  8  h.  riding  each,  though  roads  were  in  poor  condition.  Both 
these  trips  were  m  the  same  week,  and  that  waa  my  longeH  riding  week,  187  m.  It  was  the 
second  weekinSept., 'Sj, and  formsapan  of  my  best  month's  record,  8 jo  m.    I  Ve  ridden 

We  daie  not  venture  out  far  on  the  roads  of  Central  Illin 
black  s<nl  is  left  in  bad  condition  lor  a  week  or  more  aflei 
beautiful  pavement,  however ;  and  there  a  some  talk  of  1 


STATfSTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


Boty.    ■'  lun  a  dEller  in  >hDB,  al  Ijfa^lle.  Ind,,  andlhougli  I  fint  1 

mounted  the  U.  in  Ma, 

•j4,  and  haTt  been  »  rider  t™.iaM.  I  never  kept  ii  record  of  my  v.he 

eling  eipcrienug.     I  *•. 

mainly  lued  Ihc  wheel  between  home  and  buiineu,  and  have  taken  no 

lours,-mylongeMday' 

ridebeing  j6  m,"    Wilh  Ihiimay  becompiiml  the  lepott  sent  S*iM. 

s.  '8J,  by  ArUiur  YouB, 

(b.  Nov.  ](., .».).  of  whom  Cola  Stone  wrote  to  nw,  a  few  nontbe 

doein'i  knowalHHit  the  tsadt  around  Si.  Louis  lin'i  wocih  knowing": 

■■  I  b^  to  ride  Feb 

14,  Ito,  on  a  t«  in.  Columbia ;  changed  is  'Sa  u>  a  jo  in.;  in  'gj,  used  a 

S4in.  Expem  in'8,,  , 

JD  in.  Expert,  fS  in.  SaaipareU  and  i»  in.  Eipen  1  in  '»%,  a  tS  in.  Vict 

or,  and  am  now  riding; 

Rudge  tandem  tri.     I  oeyer  kept  a  log,  ot  used  a  cydom.,  but  1  a.erag. 

■idethii  State,  I've  ridden  in  Kan.,  III.,  Me.,  Mau.,  and  N.  H.,— ii 

nduding  trip,  up  Cnrr: 

Kill  and  don  Mt.  Wa.hingion.    The  chief  madi  from  St.  Loui.,  1 

Ihrongh   St.  L.  and  Jefi 

OHinlie>.  are  of  Hnteuone  and  gravel  combined ;  »ry  good  after  a  rain 

and  mighty  mean  whei 

duty.     I  name  their  mileage  thus;    Telegraph,  16 ;  Natural  Bridge. 

161 ;  St.  Charlej  Rock 

Ill  Bellefnnuine,  191  Ollveit.,  i3;  Manche«er,  ni)  Gravoii,  ^z•. 

Lemay  Ferry,  50.    Tli 

gradea  of  the  laller  are  90  iteep  that  none  but  luuii'ei  allcmpl  to  ride  i 

it,  and  the  Cravois  roai 

The  referenee  to  Ml  W,  luggESIs  the  iraerlion  here  of  my  report  from  E.  H.  Conon  (b. 
OcL  16.  1S4S},  whom  I  have  allnded  to  ai  "  the  Stai  man,"  on  pp.  in,  1A9,  iji,  in  describing 
juy  ^Sj  riding  wilh  him  ja  Maine  |  and  who  says,  Jan.  19,  ^96:  "  I  learned  to  ride  in  June,  'ftj  i 
and,  on  Sept.  rS,  after  attending  the  meeting  which  organiied  the  N.  H.  Din.  of  the  League, 
wheeled  hoine  ij  m.,  this  bdng  my  Gnt  stnightaway  trial  on  ibe  road.  Though  I  'vc  kept  no 
Boiiipiele  nconl  of  it,  I  've  riddsn  »  great  deal,  especially  in  'gj.  It  was  on  Aug.  16  of  that 
year  Ihu  I  rode  down  Ht.  Washington,— a  thing  that  wai  never  done  before,  and  has  never 

Rider*!  Manual,'  wluch  1  hope  to  issue  in  March.  I  conceived  the  idea  of  writing  the 
'Manual*  wlnle  wheeling  home  from  the  Spiing6e1d  touniameat  of  'Sj,  The  Am  ed.  was 
uhausted  two  months  ago,  and  the  orders  for  the  new  book  show  it  is  likely  to  have  an  even 
btger  sale."  The  price  of  it  is  jo  c,  the  same  as  the  annual  lubscriplion  to  the  Star  Adtf 
tail,  a  mnnlhly  paper  which  Mr.  C  has  published  at  East  Rochester,  N.  H.,  since  Mar., 
"Sj.     The  editor  of  the  oldest  of   American  cycling  jounuls,  Abbot  Basiett  (b.  Match  10, 

that  I  learned  to  ride  a  Incyde  of  John  S,  Prince.  I  did  n't  get  beyond  the  lesson  period, 
(or  my  atlenlion  was  diverted  from  the  bi.  to  the  Iri.  by  the  presence  of  a  three-wheeler  in 
the  idace  when  I  did  my  riding.  I  saw  at  once  thai  the  tri.  was  the  wheel  for  me,  and  f 
began  to  study  it  and  get  my  frienda  interested  in  iL     I  entered  into  a  long  correspondence 

work  for  the  three-wheeler,  and  to-day  Boston  has  a  verj-  large  number  of  tricyclers.  A  man 
who  tides  a  tri.  only  has  juic  been  elected  captain  of  the  Boston  B,  C.,,and,  when  some  one 
urged  that  this  was  nut  wise,  a  look  around  showed  that  every  prominent  member  of  the  club 
was  a  tricycler.     As  to  my  record. — it  has  been  impouible  for  me  to  keep  one,  fur  I  ride  all 


526  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

cessor  and  associate  in  the  editorship  of  the  BL  Worlds  J.  S.  Dean  (now  a  lawyer  at  28 
State  St.),  tells  me  a  similarly  indefinite  story:  "  I  cannot  give  cyclom.  records,  as  I  never 
kept  any,  except  in  an  intermittent  sort  of  way.  I  think  I  began  riding  in  Dec,  '77  (perhaps 
Jan.,  *7S)f  ^°<^  ^  'vc  ridden,  I  'm  sure,  more  than  10,000  m.— of  which  at  least  1800  m.  was  in 
England.  During  the  last  3  dr  3  years  I  've  confined  my  riding  almost  entirely  to  the  tricycle, 
and  in  '85  the  tricycle  and  tandem  were  my  only  mounts,  except  a  little  safety  cycling.  As  for 
your  request  about  my  noms  de  pbiftu^  I  've  had  so  many  that  I  cannot  name  them.  *  London 
W.*  was  my  first  and  principal  one.  I  also  started  the  '  By  the  Way.' "  Shorter  still  is  the 
personal  statement  which  I  Ve  been  able  to  extract  from  the  publisher  of  the  Pkila.  Cyc.  Rtc- 
ard^  H.  B.  Hart,  who  sailed  with  me  to  Newport,  for  the  League  meet  of  '80  :  "Although 
one  of  the  pioneer  riders,  I  have  never  done  any  extended  touring ;  have  been  kept  too  close 
to  business.  Cycling  has  been  and  will  be  benefited  mainly  by  my  inventions,  and  feeble  at- 
tempts at  literature.    As  concerns  the  former  I  feel  somewhat  proud  of  my  record." 

"  To  Mr.  C.  D.  Kbrshaw— /7*ar  Sir :— The  advertisement  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  {Outings 
Sept.,  '85)  contains  a  letter  dated  at  Cleveland,  June  25,  '85,  and  signed  by  your  name, 
which  reads  as  follows  :  '  The  subscriber  is  adjuster /or  the  IVhite  Sewing  Machitu  Co.,  and 
in  the  discharge  qf  his  duties  uses  your  54  in.  Expert  Columbia.  I  have  run  the  same  some- 
thing over  11,000  m.,  in  14  months,  over  all  hinds  0/  roads,  and  am  glad  to  say  not  one  cent 
have  I  spent  for  repairs,  and  my  nuuhine  is  in  Jirst-class  condition.*  As  this  statefnent  has 
been  widely  copied,  and  as  no  one  else  in  America  has  professed  to  ride  a  bicycle  so  many  miles 
in  so  short  a  time,  it  seems  fair  to  expect  that  you  should  enable  me  to  inform  my  3000  sub- 
scribers concerning  the  details  of  such  remarkable  wheeling.  I  therefore  ask :  Between  what 
dates  were  those  14  months  included  ?  In  what  States  and  regions  did  you  traverse  all  kinds  of 
roads?  By  what  cyclometer  were  your  11,000  m.  measured,  and  what  was  your  monthly  mile- 
age ?  This  is  the  third  letter  of  enquiry  which  I  have  addressed  to  you  on  the  subject.  If 
the  stamped  and  directed  envelope  which  I  enclose  brings  no  reply,  I  shall  print  a  copy  of  this 
letter  in  my  book,  as  a  proof  to  my  subscribers  that  every  chance  has  been  given  you  for  con- 
vincing them  of  the  authenticity  of  your  statement.     Respectfully  yours,        Karl  Kron." 

No  reply  coming  to  the  above  letter,  which  was  mailed  Dec.  19, 1  addressed  a  note  to  Alfred 
Ely,  secretary  of  the  Cleveland  B.  C,  and  ex-editor  of  Cycling,  whose  answer  of  Dec  31  reads 
thus :  "  I  am  slightly  acquainted  with  C.  D.  Kershaw,  who  is  a  professional,  and  I  remember 
asking  him,  last  summer,  to  forward  to  you  a  statement  of  his  mileage.  I  must  confess  that  I 
have  not  taken  much  stock  in  the  story,  although  I  know  he  has  ridden  a  great  deal.  I  under- 
stand he  has  never  used  a  cyclom. ,  and  his  statement  is  based  on  an  estimate  as  to  the  total  dis- 
tance he  traveled.  While  this  '11,000  m.  in  14  mos.'  (equal  to  786  m.  a  month,  or  26  m.  a  day) 
IS  not  impossible,  yet  it  seems  to  me  to  be  improbable,  considering  our  very  changeable  winter 
weather  and  rather  poor  roads.  In  regard  to  my  own  record,  I  have  made  it  a  point  to  keep 
track  of  my  riding,  and  although  its  total  is  the  small  one  of  570$  m.  in  7  years,  I  give  it  to  you 
for  what  it  may  be  worth.  I  first  mounted  a  wheel  in  Sept.,  '79,  and  my  annual  mileage  figures 
are  these  :  4x2,  637,  721,  1343,  1074,  1062,  456."  By  way  of  contrast  to  this.  I  offer  the  report, 
dated  Dec.  12,  of  a  very  active  Boston  dentist,  W.  G.  Kendall  (b.  July  x,  1854) :  "  First  sea- 
son's record,  '84,  was  2300  m.  My  record  for  '85  is  4163  m.  on  a  bi.  and  677  on  a  tri.,  a  total 
of  4S40.  This  was  all  done  within  50  m.  of  B.,  in  ridmg  from  my  residence  in  the  suburbs  to  my 
office ;  evening  spins ;  trips  of  from  50  to  90  m.  on  every  pleasant  Sunday ;  and,  in  general,  by 
spending  every  possible  moment  on  my  machine.  I  took  no  long  straightaway  tours,  and  all  my 
bi.  riding  was  done  on  a  55  in.  Rudge  light  roadster,  with  a  Butcher  cyclom.  This  I  consider 
the  best,  as  it  is  the  most  legible ;  though  the  Lakin  cydom.  seems  to  be  giving  great  satisfaction 
in  this  neighborhood.  The  tricycles  I  have  ridden  were  the  Rudge,  Victor,  Royal  Mail,  Crip- 
per  and  Traveller,  and,  of  late,  the  first  Crescent  ever  ridden  either  here  or  in  England  Of  ^dik 
madiine  you  will  hear  considerable  next  season.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  add  a  few  more  mifcii^j 
record  before  Jan.  i.  Next  season  I  shall  probably  ride  the  tri.  more  than  the  bt.„j 
that  for  well-kept  roads  it  is  the  more  practical  machine.  In  the  Boston  B.  C, 
three  tri.s  to  every  bi.;  and  on  a  recent  run,  I  was  the  only  bicycler  among  14 1^ 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


5=7 


The  laUM  Rcnd  Ihit  comei  to  hk  fui  iuenion  in  (hit  chapter  ia  b  Ihe  aulfaentic  foim  oE 
u  andavit  before  John  McCann.  noUiy  public  >l  LouitvUle,  s>ib«ribed  ud  iwom  id  Jaa.  16, 
'B6,  by  J.  D.  Macaulay  (b.  Jwi.  n,  1860,  at  New  Orlean.),  Id  the  efitcl  Ihii  his  bicycle  nUeate 
of '9;  amounlEd  to  6j73,diiiribuled  Ibnugh  ibe  11  lucceuive  nwulhi  u  lallowi:  jij.  jgj,  446, 

berof  the  finn  ni  Piatl,  Macaulay  &  lA,«rholcuIc  dcalen  in  whisldeB,  and  maauf acturen  of 
^icet^  Learned  tonde  al  Liverpool,  Eng,,  in  'ji ;  but  my  wheel  wan  »  heavy  u  to  disguat 
me  with  the  ipott,  and  (euxpt  ior  a  (ew  moi.  in  'So)  I  did  na  mare  u  il  till  '84.  when  I  bought 
■n  Eipen,  and  rode  rno}  m.  between  Sept.  ijand  Dec  ji.  1  then  detenDiDcd  to  ride  each  day 
in  '8;.  with  the  mull  gimi.  My  Jo  in.  Eipen,  Mo.  joii,  uood  the  itnin  iar  better  than  I 
GDotd  expect,  a«Ing  not  a  ceol  for  lepain, — though  I  paid  16  ior  ao  eitra-long  handle-bar,  for 

which  I  uied  61  dayi  in  May  and  June,  training  for  Knne  laces.  I'M!  nuB  have  amounted  to 
■I  least  35a  m.,  in  addition  to  what  I  recorded  on  my  Eapert  during  tboae  montha,  for  I  never 
tnined  leii  than  j  m.  a  day  oa  the  crack,  or  in  the  Eipoiition  building.  Mt  longeii  luyi  in  the 
■addle,  straightaway,  were  from  L.  to  Bardstown,  46  m.  in  4  h.  <)  min.,  and  from  L,  I0  Shelhy- 
ville,  jj  in.  ma  h.  14  nun.  In  the  ErpoHiion  building,  I  once  rode  wilbout  flop  6>|  m.  in  5  h. 
Hy  longest  day's  tide  waa  frwn  L.  to  Leaington,  94  m.  in  11  h.  j]  inin,,  which  included  a  de- 
lour  of  Sni.  Mylongeai  week's  ride  wai  413  m.,  Oct.  4  to  10.  followed  by  3^  m,  Oct.  11  to  ij, 
making  Sum,  lor  ibe  (ottnighl.    Thla  wai  during  my  vacation  inlhe  Blue  Grass  Region.    Ilia 

above  ihal  figure."     Mr.  M.  haa  just  been  chmen  president  of  the  Louitvillc  Wheel  Oub. 

made  between  May  11  and  Nov.  Ui  'Bs>  by  Charies  M.  Coodnov;  (h.  Apr.  iS,  i8«;|,  a  clerk  in 
the  Hampden  national  bank  at  WeaCfteld.  Mass., and  captain  of  the  wheelmen  there.  He  Ihoi 
Teporls  to  me,  Jan.  9 :  "I  learned  Id  ride  May  i.  '33,  but  had  no  cyclom.  and  look  no  note  of 
mile^e  before  this  season.    The  only  month's  rtcord  1  kept  in  "S;  waa  that  ending  June  11 

rjt  JOT  m- in  3J  h.  actual  riding.  Longest  etraightaway  tour,  to  If  oTyoke,  about  t7m.  I've  only 
had  a  half-day's  vacation,  this  year,  and  all  my  wheeling  has  been  done  before  aiMl  after  bank- 
boun.  1  added  j6  m.  to  Ihe  5000  before  the  year  dosed.  My  inacbine  ia  a  34  in.  Royal  Mail, 
aDditinfinecoodilion,"  The  Sfriiitfifid  Ki^Mam  aid,  fxa.  6 :  "All  the  aummei  and  fall 
Coodnow  waa  op  al  auonR,  and  rode  even  into  the  night  when  moonlight  permitted.    For  j 

CDRipeliiion  lor  the  "gold-plated  Siandard cyclometer  valued  al  |i;,"  which  J.  A.  Lakin  £  Co.. 
of  W.,  offered,  at  Ihe  beginning  of  the  teaaon,  as  a  priie  to  whoever  would  make  Ihe  hirgeai 
lecord  on  a  wheel  carrying  their  cyclom.  (The  price  of  thii,  nickel  plated,  Isfio;  and  itt  dial, 
maiking  I  JO  m. ,  is  designed  ID  be  read  from  the  aaddle,  Ihnogh  riders  have  laid  ne  that  the  numer- 
al! are  too  small  to  be  eatilydiatingnijhed.)  Compelitorawere  required  "to  make  affidavit  as  to 
dieir  reeopdi,  signed  by  two  wilnesaej  knowing  to  the  laets."  and  to  hand  in  Iheir  reports  by 
Jan.  It-  Only  6  dayi  belore  that.  Mr.  L.  wmte  10  me  ihua  :  "  We  have  not  yet  received  many 
kng-dlstance  records.  The  second  in  siie  is  ihat  of  Hany  A  Lakin  (b,  Jan,  ti,  1S67),  who  be- 
gan riding  in  '»t,  and  whose  -gs  mileage,  on  a  54  in.  Tictor,  i>  399T.  Hia  longest  day's  ride,  4 
a,  M.  toSp.  H..  waaiiSm,     H.  M.  Farrft,  Mayig,  18411.  of  HolvrAe.  has  done  >Soo  m.,  on 


528  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

offered  again  in  '86  for  the  best  certified  score  made  by  the  user  of  this  instrument ;  and  a  sec- 
ond gold-plated  cyclom.  to  the  club  whose  lo  riders  make  the  highest  combined  score  in  using  it, 

Mr.  R.  is  one  of  my  early  subscribers,  and  from  his  testimonial  about  the  Lakin  cyclom. ,  ad- 
dressed to  the  maker  thereof  (Jan.  6,  '86;,  I  gladly  copy  the  following :  "  I  began  riding  in  May, 
'8o,  and  have  kept  a  careful  daily  accounL  I  've  ridden  5  Columbia  wheels  (Standard  44  in.  and 
46  in.,  Expert  48  in.  and  50  in.,  and  my  present  49  in.  light  roadster),  and  have  had  la  cyckmieters 
on  them, — being  thus  able  to  judge  the  relative  merits  of  the  prominent  makes.  I  Ve  tested  them 
also  by  special  machinery  at  our  Empire  Loom  Works.  Furthermore,  my  brother  made  a  gradu- 
ated wheel  of  iron,  10  ft.  in  circumference,  with  mechanical  index  registering  its  revolutions  while 
the  rim  indicated  ft.  and  in.  By  repeated  and  careful  measurements  with  this,  I  laid  out  an  accu- 
rate \  m.  straightaway  on  a  level  road ;  and  I  also  laid  out  around  my  flower-garden  a  12-lap 
track  on  a  level  road  of  gravel,  hard  and  smooth.  I  used  the  straight  course  in  testing  the  revo- 
lutions of  my  bicycle  wheels  to  the  \  m.,  when  trundled  as  well  as  when  ridden.  As  a  result,  I 
have  found  your  cyclom.  the  most  satisfactory  as  to  accuracy,  reliability,  construction,  conven- 
ience, neatness,  and  ease  of  reading  from  the  saddle.  My  wife  rides  a  Columbia  two-track  tri., 
with  Butcher  cyclom.  attached ;  and  though  this  has  registered  very  closely  with  yours,  I  do  not 
like  the  modes  of  attachment  or  actuation,  nor  the  j/i9W  change  of  the  dial  figures.  The  Excelsior 
is  a  well-made  and  accurate  cyclom.,  but  very  inconvenient  to  read.  The  McDonnells  were 
difiicult  to  read,  and  were  unreliable,  though  some  of  them  worked  fairly  well,  and  I  had  one 
which  proved  accurate,  until  it  got  wet  once.  I  've  uspd  the  Lakin  cyclom.  longer  than  any  other 
(July  aa  to  Dec.  31,  '85),  1521  ro.  over  common  roads,  in  a  rough  and  hilly  country,  and  through 
3  heavy  rain  storms.  The  only  improvement  I  suggest  is  the  insertion  of  a  set  screw  through 
the  bearing,  so  that,  on  occasion,  the  eye.  may  be  held  fast  against  the  sleeve,  and  its  registry 
stopped.  It  would  have  been  a  great  convenience  to  me,  whep  trundling  through  the  mud,  to 
have  been  able  to  hold  the  dial  fast,  by  the  simple  turn  of  a  thumb-screw ;  for  then  I  could  have 
pushed  the  bi.  backwards,  with  the  small  wheel  in  the  air,  and  saved  mud-dogging  in  both 
forks, — the  brake  acting  as  scrajier.  I  mean  to  try  such  a  screw  on  my  cyclom.,  anyhow.  I  rode 
544  m.  before  July  22,  so  that  my  whole  record  for  '85  is  2065  m.,  representing  191  days.  My 
wife's  tri.  record  is  665  m.  in  107  days.  I  never  have  racsd.  My  condensed  and  tabulated 
records  occupy  18  pp.  in  a  diary,  and  there  are  5  pp.  additional  of  tabulated  distances  I  have 
measured.  From  this  I  have  compiled  a  large  mileage-card,  to  places  within  a  radius  of  35  m. 
of  Stockport,  and  have  tacked  it  up  in  the  post  office  for  general  information." 

"  The  religious  editor  of  the  Post'DespcUch  wheels  4679  m.  in  27  weeks,  and  knocks  all 
similar  records  into  secondary  place,"  is  the  somewhat  sensational  headline  with  which  the 
American  Wheelman  (Jan.  '86)  introduces  an  interesting  two-column  account  of  the  mileage 
made  on  a  54  in.  Expert,  between  Apr.  23  and  Dec.  i,  '85,  by  Wm.  £.  Hicks,  a  reporter  of  local 
news  for  the  daily  journal  in  question,  whose  weight  increased  x6  lbs.  during  the  period.  "  It 
was  in  the  fall  of  '84  that  he  first  had  occasion  to  press  a  bicycle  into  service,  his  sole  object  then 
being  to  save  time  in  reaching  the  outlying  portions  of  the  city,  where  his  news  assignments  were, 
and  scarcely  any  thought  being  given  to  the  utility  of  the  machine  as  a  means  of  travel  around 
the  down-town  districts.  Such  a  convenient  conveyance  did  it  prove  to  be,  however,  that  it  was 
with  regret  that  the  fall  of  snow,  which  put  an  end  to  cycling,  was  witnessed  by  him.  But,  with 
the  advent  of  the  spring  of  '85,  he  soon  found,  after  the  pedal  and  vault  mounts  had  been  learned, 
that  the  bicycle  was  perfectly  practicable  for  use  in  the  short  rides  of  a  half  a  dozen  blocks  or  so 
in  the  business  portion  of  the  city.  It  was  in  covering  such  short  distances  that  his  wheel  has 
been  chiefly  employed  during  the  summer ;  and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  his  feet  have 
better  known  the  motion  of  pedaling  than  the  more  natural  but  slower  and  more  laborxHis  one  of 
walking.  Out  of  the  221  days,  there  were  only  30  when  he  failed  to  ride  j  and  the  ai  days  when 
rain  caused  this  failure  were  distributed  thus:  May,  4;  Aug.,  2 ;  Sept.,  s  ;  Oct.,  5;  Nov.,  5. 
His  only  long  trip  was  90  ra.  to  Arcadia,  though  rides  of  40  m.,  to  Manchester  and  Baldwin,  were 
sometimes  made  several  times  a  week.  The  estimate  of  4679  m.  is  gained  from  multiplying  191 
riding  days  by  24}  m.,  since  this  was  the  average  disUnce,  as  established  b]^  cyclom.,  aa  nearly  as 
could  be  ascertained.     It  should  be  remembered  that  though  fully  }  of  this  disunce  was  traversed 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  529 

• 

on  the  granite  streets,  more  or  less  wet  and  treacherous  and  without  bell  oie  lamp  on  the  bicycle, 
the  collisions  with  pedestrians  were  but  three,  and  they  occurred  in  daylight,  while  the  collisions 
with  vehicles  were  but  two,  and  all  5  cases  were  without  damage  to  any  one.  The  mischief 
done  by  horses  being  frightened  amounted  to  nothing,  not  even  a  piece  of  harness  having-beeo 
oroken.  Such  a  record  ought  to  instruct  those  few  misguided  wheelmen  who  second  the  efforts 
of  ignorant  law>makerB  in  regard  to  *  compulsory  use  of  bells  and  lamps. '  It  seems  remarkable 
that  the  delicate  frame-work  of  so  fragile  a  piece  of  machinery  has  stood  the  wear  and  tear 
of  so  many  days'  use;  and  the  fact  ought  to  silence  forever  the  objection  that  the  bicyde 
was  made  only  for  pleasure^ding  in  the  country  or  on  smooth  boulevards.  The  streets  of  St. 
Liouis  are  paved  with  square  granite  blocks,  but,  although  the  ssrstem  has  been  well  extended 
throi^h  the  commercial  parts  ^f  the  city,  it  would  be  dallying  with  the  truth  to  say  that  the  sur- 
face is  not  rough.  A  few  other  people  in  the  world  may  have  ridden  further  in  7  moe.'  time,  but 
it  is  doubtful  if  th«y  have  done  as  much  as  Mr.  Hicks  in  threading  crowded  streets,  turning 
sharp  comers,  crossiiig  slippery  car-tracks,  and  getting  out  of  the  entanglements  which  nearly 
every  day  of  city  riding  makes  startUngly  new  and  numerous."  Two  letters  of  mine,  askiim; 
about  cydom.  and  other  details,  have  brought  no  answer. 

The  distance  of  146  m.  without  dismount  was  made  in  14  h.  17  min.,  at  Chicago,  beginning 
at  10  p.  M.  Aug.  31,  *85,  by  John  W.  Bell  (b.  SepL  30,  1866),  who  rode  3a  m.  in  the  first  a  h.» 
and  whose  additional  mileage  for  the  remaining  la  was  as  follows:    i,  14 ;  2,  14 ;  3,  10 ;  4,  10; 
5,  10 ;  6,  8 ;  7,  7 ;  8,  6 ;  9,  9 ;  10,  8 ;  i(,  7 ;  la  (17  min.),  ti.     I  copy  these  figures  from  his  let- 
ter to  me  of  Jan.  8,  '86,  which  says:    "  I  started  from  Rosalie  Villa,  the  club  headquartera,  and 
was  accompanied  all  the  while  by  one  or  more  members  dL  the  Owl  B.  C.     We  rode  s.  to  the 
Boulevard,  w.  on  this  to  the  park,  n.  on  Drexel  BouL  to  39th  St.,  and  returned  by  same  route  to 
starting  point    The  couree  was  shown  as  8  m.  by  several  cyck>ms.  (mine  being  a  Butcher,  which 
I  consider  absolutely  correct),  and  I  went  over  it,  again  and  again,  with  the  intention  of  doing 
at  least  100  m.  without  dismount    Of  the  4  stops  which  I  made  for  refreshment,  the  longest 
lasted  a  minute,  when  I  leaned  against  a  lamp-post.    My  wheel  was  a  5a  in.  Columbia  light- 
roadster,  and  my  jnileage  was  checked  every  hour.    We  were  accompanied  at  the  start  by  Ralph 
Friburi;,  who  intended  to  lower  the  34  h.  professional  record,  but  withdrew  at  the  end  of  50  m.,. 
because  of  cramps  in  the  stomach.     I  learned  to  ride  in  '77,  a  3a*  in.  Otto ;  had  a  44  in.  Premier - 
in  '79,  and  a  48  in.  Standard  Columbia  for  a  short  time  in  '8k  ;  did  no  more  riding  till  the  ^>ring. 
of  '85,  when  I  got  a  sa  in.  Expert,  and  covered  over  aooo  m.  before  the  year  ended.     Longest 
straightaway  tour,  Chicago  to  Bloomington,  ia6  m.;  longest  straightaway  stay  in  saddle,  la  m.;. 
longest  stay  previous  to  the  146  m.  ride,  48  m."    .Other  notable  road-riding  in  that  city  was  pro* 
moted  in  '83  (by  a  club  called  the  Hermes,  which  was  among  those  lately  absorbed  into  the  Chi- 
cago B.  C.)  by  the  offer  of  a  gold  medal  for  the  largest  mileage  made  in^  year,  and  this  was  won. 
by  Edward  F.  Sharp,  with  a  record  of   3735;  H.  D.   Higinbotham  being  second,  with  3433.. 
"  The  race  began  Sept  39,  with  nearly  every  member  of  the  club  competing  "  (fVAuJ,  Feb.  f8^ 
'84),  "  but  most  of  them  dropped  out  before  the  first  month  ended,  and  the  record  on  Oct  38^ 
stood  :     H.  M.  Higinbotham,  480 ;  H.  D.  Higinbotham,  460 ;  E.  F.  Sharp,  450 ;  M.  D.  Hull,. 
300.     The  second  month's  mileage  of  the  same  men,  with  their  totals,  Nov.  38,  stood  thus;  6ao* 
(i  100);  950(1410);  900(1350);  780  (1080).    During  the  month  ending  Dec.  38,  Sharp  madt: 
1375,  to  U.  D.  Higtnbotham's  1032,  and  there  were  no  other  competitors." 

Frank  P.  Symonds,  president  of  the  b.  c.  at  Salem,  Mass.,  thus  reports  to  me,  Dec.  34,  '85:: 
"  Regarding  cyclometers,  I  have  had  one  good  McDonnell  out  of  three.    It  was  accurate ;  the* 
othen  were  not    My  Butcher  was  accurate  but  faulty.     First,  I  lost  my  weight    Next,  the- 
figured  part  of  the  cyclom.  broke  off.    Tliird,  the  small  screws  came  out  and  I  lost  the  lower 
part  fnmi  the  upper.    This  was  Oct.  1,  when  the  registry  for  168  days  in  '85  stood  at  3395  m. 
Keeping  account  of  trips  after  that,  I  reckon  my  whole  year's  mileage  to  exceed  300a    I  rode 
a  53  io.  Expert     McDonnell  cyclom.  anredited  me  with  384s  m.  in  '84 ;  and  I  kept  no  record 
during  the  three  previous  seasons.    Most  of  my  riding  has  been  about  business."    John  V. 
Stephenson  (b.  May  15,  iSja),  a  pharmacist  at  Greensburg,  Pa.,  since  June,  '80,  thus  reports, 
Jan.  6,  '86:    "  I  learned  to  ride  the  old  bone-shaker,  and  I  first  mounted  the  modern  bi.  at 
34 


530         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

JKttsborg  in  '79,  or  perhaps  '7S.  Bought  my  first  wheel,  %  56  in.  Expert,  in  July,  '82,  and  sold 
it  in  '83  to  buy  a  58  in.  I  rode  about  1000  m.  in  *8a,  1500  m.  in  'Hj-,  2315}  in  '84  and  2080^  in 
'8s.  Longest  straightaway  trail,  G.  to  Mauch  Chunk,  294  m.  in  4  days ;  expenses,  $5. 1 1 . 
Longest  continuous  trail,  G.  to  Clearfield,  Altoona,  Bedford,  Johnstown  and  home,  329  m.,  in 
5I  days  ('84);  expenses,  $10.15.*^  Charles  Langley  (b.  May  31, 1856),  a  book-keeper  at  Toronto, 
"  learned  to  ride  Nov.,  '82.  On  Dec  25,  same  year,  had  my  first  '  long '  ride  of  10  m.,  taking 
nearly  3  h.  to  aooomplish  the  task.  In  spring  of  '83  went  at  riding  in  earnest,  and  before  dose 
of  season  had  taken  one  straightaway  tour,  unaccompanied,  of  say  250  m.,  as  well  as  sereral 
all-day  trips,  the  total  for  season  being  not  less  than  1000  m.  In  '84,  I  was  as  enthusiastic  as 
ever  and  covered  fully  1500  m.  including  another  tour  of  nearly  300  m.  In  '85,  still  more  fasci- 
nated, and  determined  to  eclipse  previous  season ;  completed  1800  m.  including  a  tour  of  325  m., 
whereof  300  was  ridden  in  5  days  against  a  heavy  September  wind.  On  all  toars  I  carried  cy* 
dom.,  which  proved  as  true  as  expected,  the  variation  between  it  and  mileage  as  reported  along 
the  road  not  being  of  any  account  in  a  day's  ride.  In  May,  '84,  I  rode  27  m.  straightaway 
without  dismount,  from  Port  Hope  to  within  a  cooi^e  of  mDes  of  Brighton.  Have  not  specially 
undertaken  any  long  all-day  rides, — my  best  being  70  m.,  though  I  ^ve  done  that  several  times. 
My  wheel  is  a  54  in."  (see  p.  316).  L.  B.  Graves  (b.  Aug.  8,  1853),  C.  T.  C.  consul  at  Minne- 
apolis, began  riding  in  May,  '82,  and  roughly  estimates  his  total  mileage  at  7500,  divided  thus  by 
years  :  1500,  2000,  2500,  and  1500,  the  last  only  being  in  Minnesota.  His  machines  have  been 
54  in.  Star  (2),  52  in.  Sanspareil,  54  in.  Rudcer  and  54  in.  Yale  (see  pp.  114,  119,  324). 

F.  A.  Elwell  (b.  Nov.  7, 1858),  manager  of  Down  East  and  Bermuda  tours  (see  pp.  2S7>  353), 
began  to  ride  in  the  spring  of  '81,  and  names  9000  as  probable  mileage.  A.  B.  Baiiunan  (b. 
Dec.  29,  1859),  compiler  of  the  "  Road  Book  of  Long  Island,  1886,"  says :  "  I  do  very  little 
night  riding,  and  have  not  yet  covered  100  m.  by  daylight,  though  coming  pretty  near  it  more 
than  once.  I  'm  certain  I  *ve  explored  more  than  1000  m.  of  separate  roadway,  and  can  com- 
pute 250  ra.  of  it  on  Long  Island  alone.  I  *ve  often  made  the  run  from  the  dub  rooms,  366 
Livingston  St.,  to  the  cathedral  at  Garden  City,  in  s^  h.,  and  have  ridden  to  Syosset  in  3  h.  25  min. 
From  9  to  10  m.  per  h.  is  my  touring  gait,  on  a  good  road."  Window  T.  Williams  (b.  Feb.  i, 
1863),  League  representative  at  Yantic,  Ct.,  has  ridden  a  56  in.  nickeled  Expert,  from  '80  to  '86, 
5060  m.,  as  measured  by  McDonnell  and  Butcher  cydometers.  E.  P.  Bumham,  of  Newton, 
well  known  as  a  racing  man,  reported  to  the  Bi.  fVorUCDec.  26,  '84)  a  mileage  of  3095  in  '83 
and  3000  in  '84,  whereof  940  belonged  to  last  two  months,  and  1140  to  the  tricyde.  My  appeal 
to  him  for  '85  record  has  gone  unanswered,  as  also  my  letter  of  en<|airy  to  Percy  Bettison,  of 
Louisville,  who  was  said  to  have  a  cydom.  record  of  4000  m.  for  the  last  10  mos.  of  '84. 

An  October  paragraph,  in  regard  to  Joseph  Pennell  and  Eltxabeth^obins  Pennell,  his  wife, 
authors  of  *'A  Tricyding  Pilgrima^  to  Canterbury,"  and  formerly  residents  of  Philadelphia, 
said  they  "lately  returned  to  London  from  a  )Onmey  of  2000  m.  on  their  Hnmber  tandem, 
through  France  and  Switzeriand  to  North  Italy  and  back."  Quite  as  significant  also  is  the  tri- 
cyding score  of  5957  m.  made  in  '85  by  a  trio  of  less-adventurous  American  ladies,  whose 
husbands  wheeled  9289  m.  in  the  same  interval,  so  that  the  total  year's  mileage  of  these  six 
"Orange  Wanderers"  reached  the  rather  imposing  figure  of  15,246.  The  wheeling  biography 
of  the  most  widely-known  member  of  this  dub,  L.  H.  Johnson  (b.  1859),  has  been  given  on 
p.  508,  which  shows  that  in  '85  he  made  2245  *»•  o"  the  bi.  and  1930  m.  on  the  three-wheeler. 
Mrs.  J.  rode  1776  m.  on  the  tandem  and  210  m.  on  the  single  tri.  (total,  1986  m.),  and  I  believe 
this  comprised  considerable  touring  with  her  husband  in  England  and  Wales.  H.  C.  Doiq^  rode 
•454  m.,  and  Mrs.  D.  2276  m.,  all  on  a  tandem  tri.,— ^nd  this  is  probably  the  largest  year's  mileage 
record  yet  made  in  America  by  a  lady,  or  by  man  and  wife  together.  L.  H.  Porter's  bicyding 
was  1312  m.  and  tricyding  1348  m.  (total,  2660  m.);  while  Mrs.  P.  rode  125$  m.  on  the  tandem 
and  439  m.  on  the  single  tri.,  making  a  total  of  1694  m.,  though  this  was  her  first  season  as  a  Cf- 
der.  The  averages  are  3096  m.  for  the  men ;  1985  m.  for  their  wives ;  5082  m.  for  each  married 
pair,  and  2541  m.  for  each  individual.  Statistics  of  such  pleasant  "Orange  wanderings"  as 
these  have  an  evident  tendency,  however,  to  make  the  bachelor  compiler  sad  at  heart ;  and  to, 
father  than  print  any  more  of  them,  1 11  put  a  stop  to  this  chapter,  right  here  1 


XXXII. 

BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 

Great  Britain  possesses  at  least  a  quarter-of  a-million  wheelmen.  In- 
deed, some  guessers  insist  that  the  real  number  is  twice  as  large,  though  I  am 
not  aware  that  any  attempt  has  been  made  at  a  careful  estimate.  Yet  only  two 
dozen  of  this  vast  multitude  have  consented  to  answer  my  call  for  personal 
statistics.  Hence,  while  some  of  these  seem  very  remarkable,  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  assume  that  a  still  more  extraordinary  lot  might  not  be  collected  in 
that  country, — if  the  collector  were  powerful  enough  to  get  hold  of  every 
privately-kept  wheeling  record  which  is  now  hidden  there.  I  simply  assert 
that  I  got  hold  of  all  I  could,  and  that  I  print  all  I  got  hold  of.  I  offer  these 
figures  for  just  what  they  are  worth  in  each  individual  case,  and  I  hope  no 
writer  in  the  English  press  will  be  so  unfair  as  to  make  sneering  or  censorious 
remarks  against  any  of  my  contributors.  Those  whose  records  are  small  are 
by  no  means  trying  to  pose  before  the  American  public  as  distinguished  long- 
distance riders.  My  invitation  was  to  all  foreign  wheelmen  of  a  statistical  turn 
of  mind,  that  they  favor  me  with  a  summary  of  their  personal  memoranda. 
**  The  average  man  "  is  just  as  heartily  welcome  to  a  place  in  this  chapter  as 
the  exceptional  man.  I  am  grateful  to  all  who  have  consented  to  stand  here, 
but  the  degree  of  my  gratitude  to  each  is  measured  by  the  amount  of  trouble 
which  he  may  have  expended  in  supplying  me  with  his  personal  story,  and  not 
by  the  amount  of  miles  included  in  it,  nor  by  the  amount  of  interest  it  may 
presumably  have  to  readers  in  England.  My  introduction  to  the  previous 
chapter  applies  in  good  part  to  the  present  also,  and  should  be  carefully  con- 
sidered by  whomsoever  the  impulse  seizes  to  say  something  satirical  about 
any  of  the  men  mentioned  here. 

The  first  place  in  this  group  seems  properly  to  belong  to  the  only  man  I  ever  heard  of  as 
having  an  authentic  year's  record  of  10,000  m.  on  a  bicycle.  This  is  £.  Tegetmeier,  a  member 
of  the  Belsize  B.  C.  and  a  resident  of  the  Finchley  suburb  of  London,  whose  report  to  me  (May 
3,  ^84)  is  dated  at  the  office  of  the  Fields  346  Strand.  I  infer  that  he  is  a  regular  writer  for  tliat 
paper,  and  assume  that  he  is  about  30  years  old ;  and  I  have  somewhere  seen  the  printed  state- 
ment that  his  father  is  also  an  enthusiastic  cycler :  "  From  a  wheelman's  point  of  view,  En- 
gland may  be  regarded  as  possessing  unequaled  facilities  for  locomotion.  Scarcely  a  mile  of 
country  but  is  intersected  by  a  road  of  some  kind,  and  although  many  are  what  we  here  call 
bad,  few  in  their  normal  condition  are  unridable.  With  these  advantages,  English  riders  are 
not  only  able  to  show  better  results,  as  far  as  distances  go,  than  those  less  favorably  situated, 
but  they  derive  a  degree  of  pleasure  from  the  pursuit  commensurate  with  the  smoothness  of  the 
roads  they  travel  upon.  During  '83,  I  was  enabled  to  devote  considerable  time  to  bicycling,  and 
this  may  account  for  my  riding  a  distance  about  three  times  greater  than  my  previous  yearly 
average.  Living  near  London,— about  7  m.  due  n.  of  Charing  Cross,— I  am  fairly  well  situated 
for  riding.     In  going  out  for  a  day's  run,  I  generally  take  a  northerly  course,  as  by  that  means 


532 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


I  am  soonest  off  the  rough  g^nite  roads  which  surround  the  metropolis  for  a  radius  of  lo  or  12  m. 
The  greater  part  of  the  distance  ridden  last  year  was  made  up  by  day  runs,  out  and  home,  although, 
when  I  had  a  few  days'  leisure,  I  would  go  and  stay  down  in   BedfOTdshire,  where  there  are 
some  of  the  best  roads  in  the  country,  and  ride  about  in  all  directions.     My  longest  day's  run 
(154  m.)  wras  from  F^inchley  to  Norman  Cross,  Huntingdonshire,  and  back,  with  deviations,  and 
it  occupied,  with  stoppages,  20  h.     When  traveling  by  main  roads,  the  distances  are  readily  dis- 
covered, when  not  known,  by  reference  to  an  interesting  old  book  called  '  Paterson's  Roads.* 
When  this  fails  me,  I  measure  the  distance  with  a  '  Wealemefna '  on  ordnance  or  other  large- 
scale  maps.     My  longest  month's  score  was  1343  m.  and  tfie  best  week's  record  was,  I  think, 
459  m. ,  ridden  in  Nov.    Although  much  of  my  distance  was  covered  on  Hertfordshire  and  Bed- 
fordshire roads,  I  made  many  excursions  in  other  directions,  such  as  Leicester,  100  m.;  Ipswidt, 
70  m.;  Eastbotime,  75  ro.;  Binningharo,  no  m.;  Farringdon,   75  m.;  Coventry,  90  m.;  Li^ 
field,  120  ro.;  and  Ely,  80  m.,  returning  in  each  case,  often  by  a  circuitous  route.     In  a  four 
days'  tour  at  Easter,  through  Kent  and  along  the  south  coast,  240  m.  were  ridden.    The  princi- 
pal tour  was  undertaken  in  Sept.,  with  three  other  members  of  the  Bel«2e  B.  C,  and  occupied 
nearly  three  weeks.    Crossing  to  Antwerp  and  traveKng  by  cram  to  Basle,  in  Switzerland,  we 
rode  tfirottgh  some  of  the  most  picturesque  scenery  and  traversed  the  Furca  Pass,  8000  ft.  high. 
On  our  return  to  &sle,  we  had  covered  nearly  500  m.  of  new  ground.    My  total  distance  for 
the  year  includes  15  runs  of  10  ro.  or  under;  but  for  these,  the  average  length  of  each  ride 
would  exceed  46  ro.    The  distance  also  comprises  22  rides  of  roo  m.  and  upwards  (amounting 
altogether  to  2373  m.)  and  35  rides  of  80  m.  and  over.    About  8000  m.  were  ridden  upon  one 
bicycle, — a  52  in.  Matchless.    During  the  whole  year,  I  only  met  with  two  mishaps,  but  in 
neither  case  did  any  harm  result.    The  first  was  by  onrer-running  the  machine  of  a  ooropamon, 
owing  to  his  pulling  up  suddenly  to  avoid  a  demonstrative  native  in   Switzerland.    The  second 
time  I  was  unhorsed  occurred  near  London,  and  came  of  my  encountering  in  the  dark  a  huge 
lump  of  coal,  negligently  dropped  from  a  cart.     My  score  of  10,053  "*•  »"  '83  represented  230 
riding  days,  giving  44  m.  as  the  average  ride.     In  the  following  summary  by  months,  the  suc- 
cessive numerals  signify  riding  days,  mileage,  average  ride  and  longest  ride.    The  sum  of  these 
la  longest  rides  is  1339  m.:    Jan.,  13,  301,  23,  too;  Feb.,  9,  575.  64,  104;  Mar.,  19,  683,  36, 
IZ2 ;  Apr.,  2o,  929,  46^,  126;  May,  24,  1169,  48},  154;  June,  25,  i343»  54*  12a  i  July,  10,  522, 
52,  loi ;  Aug.,  24,  x2o6,  50, 107 ;  Sept.,  x8,  &40,  3SJ.  «03 ;  Oct-*  aa,   1044,  47J,  103  ;  Nov.,  27, 
1050,  39,  102;  Dec,  19,  591,  3T,  ro5. 

"  I  began  to  ride  in  the  fall  of  '72,  but  only  did  a  few  hundred  m.  that  year,  and  my  total  at 
the  end  of  '73  was  2892  m.    During  the  next  decade,  I  added  39,685  m.  to  this,  divided  by  years 
as  follows:    3333,  3315,  4485,  3700,  3695,  r496,  2486,  2904,  4a  18,  10,053.    My  low  score  of  '79 
resultsd  from  my  attention  being  then  divided  between  bicycling  and  yachting.    The  first  fairly 
long  run  I  took  was  90  m.,  May  11,  '73,  on  a  45  in.  bicycle  weighing  over  70  lbs.     Although  1 
had  done  innumerable  rides  of  70,  80  and  90  m.,  it  was  not  until  '75  that  I  accomplished  a  run 
of  three  figures,  by  riding  122  m.  on  Aug.  2  in  that  year.     I  participated  in  the  first  meet  at 
Hampton  Court  (Apr.  11, '74)  which  attracted  only  30  or   40  riders.    Another  incident  of  my 
road  riding  was  the  London  B.  C's  100  m.  trial  of  '77,  from  Bath  to  London,  tn  which  I  secured 
the  second  medal  (8  h.  35  min.).    On  June  12,  *8i,  I  rode  from  Finchley  to  Bedford,  45  m.,  with- 
out a  dismount,  in  3  h.  35  min.,  and,  resting  1  h.  20  min.,  returned  by  the  same  road,  without  a 
dismount,  in  3  h.  33  min.     From  the  commencement,  I  have  kept  a  careful  account  of  all  my 
riding,  with  any  incidents  worth  perpetuating,  and  I  find  these  records  both  useful  and  interesting. 
As  regards  regimen,  I  will  merely  state  the  bare  fact  that  I  have  entirely  abstained  all  my  life  from 
akoholic  beverages.    It  would  be  practically  impossible  for  me  to  ascertain  how  many  separate 
miles  of  road  I  have  traversed  in  making  my  last  year's  score  of  to,os3  ;  or,  rather,  it  would  be  a 
work  of  such  great  labor  that  I  have  not  time  to  undertake  it ;  but,  generally  speaking,  my  riding 
has  not  been  so  varied  as  yours  appears  to  have  been.     I  should  say  that  it  was  entirely  unlikely 
that  anyone  in   Europe  had  ridden  anything  like  1420  m.  straightaway.    I  know  of  no  such 
ride.    The  longest  that  has  been  done  in  England  (thatra«  be  done)  is  from  Land's  End  to  John 
O'Groat's,  about  1000  m."    A  postscript  of  March  s6,  '85,  adds:    "  My  opportunities  for  wheel- 


>r»> 


-  >--^ 


534 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


apt  to  regard  them  in  this  latter  light."    Outing  accepted  my  reports  from  both  these  long-dis- 
tance men,  as  worthy  of  insertion  in  its  columns,  Aug.,  '84,  pp.  394-396> 

"  Faed "  is  perhaps  the  best-known  signature  of  the  many  used  in  the  cjrding  press  by 
Arthur  J.  Wilson  (b.  Feb.  17, 1858),  vice-president  of  the  North  London  Tricycling  Club,  whose 
wheeling  record,  '83  to  '85,  was  19,388  m.,  and  represented  out-door  riding  on  loai  of  the  1096 
days  included  in  the  three  years, — the  exceptional  75  days  belonging  to  '84.    The  really  wonder- 
ful thing  about  the  matter  is  that  all  this  should  have  been  accomplished  without  accident  by  a 
man  who  is  handicapped  with  a  most  disheartening  bodily  infirmity ;  for  the  name  (whidi  he 
earliest  signed,  in  his  aist  year,  to  a  parody  in  the  American  BicyliHgJoMmal)  sonifies  that 
the  rider  is  totally  deaf.     His  first  letter  to  me  (March  19,  '84)  reads  thus :    "  My  '83  record  a 
not  at  all  noticeable  for  the  mere  distance  traversed,  but  rather  on  account  of  no  single  day  of 
the  year  being  missed,  proving  the  eminent  practicability  of  the  tricycle.     Every  day  I  whedcd 
on  the  road,  no  matter  what  the  weather ;  and  as  I  was  for  the  first  six  months  engaged  all  day 
at  my  business  (wood  engraving),  I  considered  this  worthy  of  publication.    During  my  previous 
years'  cycling  experiences,  I  only  kept  rec9rd  of  distances  in  '80,  when  I  rode  about  3400  m.  oa 
bicycles.     It  is  impossible  to  guess  at  my  total  mileage,  so  I  will  not  try ;  but  if  you  desire  to  obtain 
a  representative  record  of  long-distance  bicycling,  I  should  recommend  you  to  refer  to  Messfs. 
Reynolds  or  Tegetmeier,  who  have  some  very  big  annual  totals.     Keeping  records  is  not  very 
extensively  practiced  in  this  country,  and  I  could  not  get  within  thousands  of  m.  of  my  total 
bicycling  and  tricycling  experiences,  either  in  the  aggregate  or  as  regards  distinct  m.    The  latter 
would  be  small  in  proportion  to  the  total,  as  I  have  seldom  toured  far  from  home, — ^to  Edinbui|^ 
and  Glasgow  being  the  only  occasion  upon  which  I  went  more  than  150  m.  away.    Of  coone. 
even  in  such  a  restricted  radius,  there  are  so  many  thousands  of  m.  of  roads  in  England  thai 
there  is  plenty  of  variety.     Still,  my  habits  are  not  of  an  exploring  nature,  but  I  ride  the  same 
roads  over  and  over  again.    My  longest  day's  straightaway  was  128  m.,  from  my  house  here  t* 
a  friend's  house  in  Dorsetshire.     I  've  also  done  125  m.  straightaway.    My  other  'centuries*  wcr 
104  m.,  out-and-home  on  a  sociable  with  a  lady,  and  108  m.,  out-and-home  on  a  single  tricj^ 
I  never  did  more  than  83  m.  in  a  day  on  a  bicycle.     I  once  rode  a  bi.  36  m.  straightaway  wit 
out  a  dismount,  in  a  pouring  rain ;  but  never  made  an  effort  at  such  feats.     My  longest  tour  was  • 
about  1,000  m.  in  three  weeks,  on  a  bicycle.     Really  the  only  feat  I  ever  performed  on  a  hi.  w 
in  riding  from  my  home  in  Clapton,  the  n.  suburbs  of  London,  through  the  city  traffic,  to  Te. 
pie  Bar,  in  the  busy  part  of  the  morning,  without  once  touching  my  handles ;  thoogh  only  ih' 
who  know  the  crowded  state  of  London  streets  can  adequately  appreciate  this.     I  am  or  • 
strong  rider ;  never  won  any  races  worth  mentioning ;  frequently  curl  up  when  on  hard  rid 
only  seem  a  good  rider  when  amongst  '  the  mugs.'    For  swift  performances  you  must  goc 
where.     My  hill-climbing  feats  on  high-geared  tricycles  have  been  due  principally  to  *  think 
it  over  as  I  go  along,'  and  determination.    When  on  a  day's  journey,  I  frequently  walk  op  v 
easy  hills  simply  because  I  happen  to  feel  lazy.     In  a  word,  I  ride  for  pleasure,  not  for 
Further  enquiries  of  mine  brought  these  other  details  (April  14)  :    "  By  a  very  cursory 
ment  of  my  map  of  Britain,  I  guess  I  have  ridden  over  about  4000  distinct  m.  of  grooad 
eluding  perhaps  nearly  2000  within  ao  m.  of  the  center  of  London !    Our  roads  are  so  nonei 
you  see,  compared  with  yours,  that  we  can  ride  many  thousands  of  distinct  m.  within  a 
area.    With  the  exception  of  the  tour  to  Edinburgh,  all  my  riding  has  been  within  i 
London !    And  still  there  are  numberless  places  close  at  home  which  I  have  yet  to 
still  the  old  familiar  roads  are  ever  attractive !     Since  last  June,  I  've  been  compelled  to 
quish  wood«engravtng  entirely,  it  was  so  harmful  to  my  eyesight ;  and,  if  I  had  £yio  to  ^ 
I  would  take  a  la  months'  tour  through  Great  Britain.    I  believe  I  could  cover  18,000  m.  , 
year,  with  pleasure  and  healthful  enjoyment    Such  a  journey  would  afford  material  for  . 
interesting  book,  I  imagine ;  but  publishers  here  are  not  liberal  enough  to  make  it  worth  «         ,  **  ^ 
He  seems,  in  fact,  to  have  found  it  more  profitable  to  describe  an  imaginary  "  J«         w.^ 
through  Cyclonia,"  which  is  the  title  of  an  octavo  of  100  pages,  issued  in  Dec,  "Ss.     ^^^  -T^^ 
"Christmas  number  of  the  Cyclist^*  and  which  contains  two  or  three  likenesses  of  i 
among  its  many  pictures  and  portraits.     The  work  spent  upon  a  similar  book,  calleA 


>*.-v. 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


535 


dmp/^  which  Krred  ■!  the  Hrae  paper't  Chriitmu  ai 

nenLivE  also  than  thai  given  to  tbe  4cuuJ  "  camp,^'  at 

nuDlhs  Earlier.    The  jaiBt-auihoi  with  him  ia  ihe  produdiiin  d1  bolh  then 

MaTisoD(b.  i86a),  imtmbuof  the  Hne  IrL  dub,  whouiea  the  lignilun 

and  Che  iUuiiiaiiaai  were  upplied  by  G.  Hoorc.    In  a  printed  aulyiii  of  hii  'g^  Dicydinc,  Ur. 

W.  v,T*  -    "Owing  lo  three  tuccesuve  vddenti  on  the  -iBce-path,  I  w*i  laid  up  for  several 

weeJu  during  Ihe  bcH  part  of  the  flummer,  so  that  mjr  milea^  (or  May,  JunSi  July  and  Aug. 

waionly  isiOiaBcompand  with  jiSj lor  Mar.,  Apr,  SepL  and  Oct,  and  i&is  fa- Jan.,  Feb., 

Not.  and  Dec     Mileage  of  madiina  ridden  vnuaafoUowa:    Taudenu,  geared  la  sfin.  utd64 

jn.,  i6m  i  Quidiant,  geared  to  6a  in.,  ■<«; ;  Ratatr,  geared  ta  jS  in.,  i]6i ;  Imperial  Oiib, 

geared  id  6i  iu.,  J71 ;  tacigblei  geared  to  bclneen  jjio.  and6Din..ir<i  Hunber  pattern, 

Longest  day'e  mileages :.  116,  131,  iji,  ij^,  and  ita."  Hiareport  for 'flj  ear*:  "ItodeUie 
Quadiant  Iricytle,  tsiom-i  landenu,  lajo;  Rover  lafety  bicrcles,  1079;  varioui  machine*,  40a ; 
but  though  1  did  some  nheeling  in  the  open  air  on  each  of  the  jSj  dayi,  the  unie  ai  in  '83,  it 

ihetummer,  whoee  weather  was  at  fan  very  dry  and  then  very  wej  nnd  wiody.  Mud  andfoga 
prevailed  during  the  la*t  \  of  the  year  aloe,  aa  well  u  in  the  £nl  part  (J  it, — «d  that  March, 
April  and  May  (when  I  lovered  1S43  m.)  were  the  only  fair  riding  monlhs."  Hii  letter  (D  me 
lA  Ai^  S,  '85,  lays ;    "  [  bra  rode  a  bonE*halier  when  at  tchaol  in  '69,  hut  only  toolt  regularly 

Arab  l^t  roadater,  and  aiiwe  then  almott  every  kind  ol  tricyde  made,  but  prindpally  tbe  Qub 
•odable.  Imperial  Club  ung)e,  Centanr  tandem.  Club  lacei,  Hiunbcr,  and  Quadrant  miduer 
and  racer.  The  longeit  mileage  on  any  one  madiine  waa  about  5000  m.  on  the  fu  in.  Quadrant 
readMer,  whidi  I  am  alill  riding,  geared  up  to  60  in.  You  will  aee,  by  comparing  the  ree- 
ordi,  that  1  ride  farther  and  farther  every  year."  In  Ihe  following  nunmaiy,  Ihe  four  column 
li  teapeclively  a^niiy  tiding  dayi,  nnleage,  longeil  ride  and  avenge  tide.    The  uptight 


Unguiah  the  central  yt 


,  1884,  from  'Sj  on  the  left  and  >gj  oi 


8.....  .M8.. 

.' «.'"!:! 

SM" 

......  81.  . 

.  8a a 

.....  ,j6.. 

..iS ■ 

481- 

D.....   S97.. 
6*5- 

-  S8 s 

536  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

rider ;  and  the  fact  of  his  having  neverthelen  wheeled  30,000  m.  during  the  last  5^  jnears  ought 
to  teach  pet^le  not  to  draw  hasty  inlerences,  from  the  large  records  of  other  men,  that  those 
others  spend  so  much  of  their  time  in  the  saddle  as  to  neglect  the  more  serious  duties  of  life. 
His  case  is  an  excellent  illustration  of  the  economy  of  bicyding,  as  compared  with  other  pas- 
times, for  a  man  whose  leisure  is  limited.  "  Locked  up  here,  mudt  like  a  ca^ed  bird,*'  he 
flays,  *'  I  law  I  must  have  some  sort  of  exercise ;  and,  as  I  am  kept  out  of  other  sporto  by 
their  happening  mostly  on  Saturdays,  I  resolved  to  learn  the  bicycle."  Further  quotations  are 
given  from  his  letters  to  me  of  March  a8,  April  37,  July  19  and  Dec.  31,  "Ss  :  '*  I  am  5  ft.  3 
in.  high,  and  ride  a  48  in.  ordinary  hi.,  and  also  a  38  in.  Facile.  In  a  general  way,  my  rudnvig 
may  be  assigned  |  to  Sundays,  and  \  each  to  Wednesday  afternoons,  to  n^hts  after  finishii^; 
business  at  9,  and  to  the  three  weeks  of  holidays.  It  is  done  exclusively  on  the  road,  as  I  've 
never  engaged  iu  racing.  My  mileage  by  years,  with  number  of  riding  days  and  longest  ride, 
maybe  shown  thus:  *8o,  1737,  66,  83 ;  '81,5665,339,  11 1;  '83,  6083,  197,  198;  '83,  5707, 
i6s,  158I ;  '84,  5465,  133,  183 ;  '85,  5355,  S44»  a<4<  I  show  my  '85  mileage  by  months  in  the 
same  way:  Jan.,  87,  10,  16;  Feb.,  139,4,  53;  Mar,  335,  131  61;  Apr.,  459,  13,  107;  May, 
318,  16,  88;  June,  3340,33,  136J;  July,  4a9»  »7,  74;  Aug.,  374,  13,  80;  Sept.,  814,  11,  314; 
Oct,  141,  8,  58;  Nov.,  111,9,41;  Dec,  137,9,  >9-  I'  ^''^  appears  that  on  asi  days  of  '85  I 
did  not  ride  at  all.  The  314  m.  was  done  Sept.  36,  in  19^  h.  of  actual  riding,  on  a  43  in.  Facile, 
new  style;  and  my  second-best  ride  of  '85  was  183^  m.,  Sept.  30,  on  a  48  in.  Rucker.  My  ^%o 
mileage  was  confined  to  the  last  \  of  the  ye^,  and  excludes  a  lot  of  short  runs  not  booked. 
The  mileage  of  my  14  days'  autumn  vacation,  in  '80,  viras  563 ;  in  'Si,  748;  in  '83,  610  and  in 
'83  (13  days),  868.  My  day's  rides  in  excess  of  100  m.  were  6  in  '81,  8  in  '83  (19B,  175,  143,  133, 
//is/.),  6  in  '83  (158},  137,  143,  133,  133  and  ros),  13  in  '84  (183,  165,  163,  163,  151, 133,  115, 113, 
et  ai.)f  and  18  in  '85, — making  50  altogether  in  a  total  of  933  riding  days.  As  my  entire  mileage 
is  39,998  m.,  my  average  ride  is  somewhat  over  33  m.  At  Easter,  in  '8t,  I  made  346  m.  in  3 
days ;  in  '83,  364  m.  in  3^  days ;  in  '83,  194  m.  in  3  days,  and  in  '84,  374  m.  in  4  days.  In  May, 
^84, 1  rode  from  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's  and  back  to  Penrith,  1333  ro.  in  14I  consecuHve 
days,  during  which  I  rested  i  day  14^  h.  and  again  14^  h.,— 4he  actual  riding  time  being  13  days 
5I  h.  This  ride  was  accompKshed  on  a  38  in.  Fadle,  and  its  gross  time  was  accepted  as 
'  record '  from  930  to  1333  m.  The  amount  of  separate  road  traversed  in  '84  was  more  than 
2500  m.,  and  I  estimate  my  total  of  separate  road  as  more  than  6ocx>  m.  I  've  been  on  neariy 
every  main  and  by-road  in  the  home  counties,  and  have  wheeled  in  34  counties  of  England,  t6 
of  Scotland  and  3  of  Wales, — ^besides  about  300  m.  in  France.  I  'm  a  member  of  your  L.  A.  W. 
*'  My  June  ride  of  '85  to  John  O'Groat's  (873  m.)  was  done  in  7  d.  13  h.  35  min.,  and  the 
return  to  Land's  End  (1754I  m.)  in  15  d.  19  h.  45  min.  The  stopping-place  and  mileage  of  eadi 
day  were  as  follows,  with  intermediate  points  in  parenthesis  :  June  ist,  Exeter  (including  5  m. 
out  of  way  at  start),  133I ;  sd,  Gloucester  (Bridgewater,  Bristol),  109I ;  3d,  Beeston  Castle 
(Bridgenorth,  Frees),  loi ;  4th,  Kendal  (through  Lancashire),  95 ;  5th,  Abington  (over  Shap 
Fells),  103;  6th,  Blair  Athole  (Burntisland),  118;  7th,  Clashmore  Inn  (Kessock,  Altnamain, 
Bonar),  136} ;  8th,  John  O'Groat's  (86}  m.;  stayed  3}  h.),  then  back  to  Wide,  106 ;  9th,  Inver- 
ness (Clashmore,  Bonar,  Altnamain,  3  m.  extra),  130};  loth,  Perth  (direct),  115);  nth,  Lodc- 
erbie  (Burntisland  and  Abington),  114 ;  X3th,  Preston  (over  Shap  Fells),  115 ;  13th,  Bridegnorth 
(Whitchurch,  Wellington),  96 ;  14th,  Bristol  (Gloucester),  88 ;  15th,  Okeharopton  (Exeter),  97; 
i^h.  Land's  End  (Truro),  xo6  ;  17th,  Bodmin  (Truro),  59 ;  x8th,  Yeovil  (3  m.,  Bridestow),  113  ; 
19th,  Andertou's  Hotel,  London  (4  m.  at  Shaftesbury),  139.  I  don't  think  I  walked  10  m.  on 
the  whole  trip.  I  had  company  (7  or  8  riders  in  all)  for  less  than  150  m.;  but  I  took  68  auto- 
graphs of  witnesses  to  my  signAure,  with  place  and  hour  named,  and  I  sent  off  some  40  tele- 
grams and  100  letters,  from  out-of-the-way  points,  to  prove  the  ride.  The  fact  that  I  suffered 
from  indigestion  and  constipation  for  about  7  days,  and  really  was  out  of  condition  at  the  start, 
makes  the  ride  seem  more  notable.  The  middle  piece  of  it  was  the  best,— namely,  from  Abing- 
ton to  the  North  and  back  to  Preston,  835  m.  in  6  d.  20  h.  If  I  bad  noticed  this,  at  the  time,  I 
would  have  ridden  all  night  on  the  6th  day  and  so  made  a  better  performance  still ;  in  foct,  f 
should  undoubtedly  have  beaten  the  record  for  7  days  by  a  lot.    You  will  be  pleased  to  bear  that 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  S37 

1  fiaished  fmbcr  iml  tvlur  in  hahti  Ihin  entr.  On  the  Axj  nflcr  the  nrpper  (hey  tsvc  me  in 
Landoo  ti-  '.,  on  the  icnh),  1  went  lo  RLpk^,  Fidii^«ver6o  m.  and  Hpending  about  6h.  thcre» 
■Dd  «v«y  DTK  seciDcd  iuq>Ti«d  1c  tee  how  well  I  was.  It  u  worth  noting  that  I  rade  down 
every  hill  during  the  entire  jdj4  m.  Irip» — excepting  a  few  [^>ces  where  there  were  Iodk  flleaei 
right  acTDS  the  road,— and  Icept  legi  onr  ihc  handles  in  nearly  every  caae.  A  few  milci  out  of 
LoodoQ,  we  came  on  anolddiiuud  Iratn  line,  and  Ihiagaveme  my  only  fall,  which  did  do  dam- 
qe.  When  we  got  m  to  the  aaphall^  Kveral  policemen  wanted  to  nop  na,  though  It  only  wia 
}  A,  H-,  for  they  saw  we  were  riding  furicxuly.  However,  we  reached  our  deHtnalioo  in  spile  of 
them,  aod  1  was  ringing  Anderion'i  belt  a«  the  docka  chimed,  at  j.45,  exactly  19  days  from  (be 
lUft.  1  wore  al  the  ilait  about  twice  the  weight  of  clolhei  that  I  did  it  the  finiih,  for  [  kept 
tending  imail  parcel!  of  them  home.  My  priadpal  food  was  beef,  mutton  and  fuh,  withool 
veEetablea.  1  had  tea,  coffee  or  cocoa  at  nearly  every  meal ;  occ»Tona11y  foup  as  well ;  por^ 
vidge  a  few  times ;  brown  bread  and  oai  calces  where  procuiable;  plenty  of  butter  and  gravy; 
preservs  and  sweet  fruita  in  moderatton.  1  atenopastiy,  buttookrhefmitoulof  pieB.oralewed 
fmh  \  had  about  s  muli  a  day  (meat  to  euh),  with  milk-and-soda  or  nulk-aod-egga  in  between. 
The  things  that  disagreed  with  me  were  fried  salt  beef  (cured  like  ham},  currant  and  raisiq 
bread  (nearly  new),  lemon  (too  acid),  and  lemon  squash.  I  found  lamb,  chicken.  hiim4nd.eggi. 
«  cg£s  alone,  not  aofQcienI  for  a  main  meal;  for  I  always  rode  badly  if  [  did  not  have  ehher 
beef,  mutton  or  liifa."    The  Cjrcliil'i  report  added  :     "  Mr.  G.  is  a  teetotaler,  and  he  found 


Jllired^  nor  had  he  throughout  the  journey  bsen  taddle  aoie.  his  seat  being  a  Ldmplugh  & 
knwn'a  EctipK  saddle.  He  preferred,  he  said,  the  a.  to  n.  route,  owing  to  the  greater  chance 
te  for  gradieni 


Jrf.r 

1  W,  M,  Uroi 

T,  (b,  July  ai, 

iBs!).  < 

:hiet  cc 

iniul  for  Lintolnshirl!  of  the  C.  T.  C,  1 

fanner  ai 

ndbrgegrow, 

ilUtlon 

,L«.g 

leWcyclemile 

igewDiddmor. 

globe,  if  encn 

idedinl 

straight 

uiea  the  folW 

wing !    "  I  can 

iouremr 

imber  the  old 

iragem'H. 

.boy of  IS. Hv. 

ingona 

n  off-farm  of 

my  father-.,  sc 

Long  Sutto. 

n.  ~l  bought 

a  j8.incher(bT 

sodingi 

.  P.  0.  0,  for 

£4,  in  answer 

uing  baiiar  adv.),  in 

Ihe  happy  belief  that  I  mifhl 

rideacroi 

Band  pleas.. 

.tlyn.rpri«th< 

i  peoples 

;  but,  after 

1  mos.  usage 

bad  shown  me 

■hat  no  n 

.  could  be  riddf 

^n  witho. 

It  lakini 

1  a  long  re.,. 

iguatfortodtiU 

ling.,.«< 

i  attempted  0. 

nmurebicyclin, 

!lin'j6. 

nd  called  m 

me  then,  on 

e  day,  riSng  . 

4»  in.  Lynn  Express ; 

illohav 

ea  Dy, 

It  proved 

to  miich  easiei 

ot  off,  I  had  been  10  Docking  and  back,  id  m.  Of  coune,  I 
machine  (4S  in.  Coventry  Gentleman,  Becond4und),  and  rode  il  a  good  many  mile.,  or  until  a 
friend  bnike  it!  fnml  ai)e  tor  me.  TTien  I  got  a  ja  in.  Singer  Challenge,  and,  on  this,  took  my 
kmgJhouRht^il  tide  to  Long  Sutton,  doing  the  iR  m,  in  j  h,,  which  1  then  thought  a  great  feaL 

In  •fr,  I  rode  no  lest  than  jSiolm..  my  longe«  ride  bring  41  m,  in  about  6  h.     In 'jS.  '  ™1» 

A***l  m       lh^  n».-hm>  .HaJ   K*,»..    .     .A    :..       V^..La..«..._     .—I-L! _!.-..-    ^    J(jj_       J^y  loHgett 

I,  only  ddng  j^i  u, 
yoldbi.  foras4in. 

et  Club  sports,  win. 


S38 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


with  varying  success,  my  most  notable  win  being  in  the  annual  inter<ounty  race  between  Nor- 
folk and  SufEolk,  8  men  representing  each  county,  and  the  course  being  from  Norwich  to  Ips- 
wich, 45^  m.  I  was  at  the  last  moment  asked  to  go  as  one  of  the  Norfolk  team.  Being  out  of 
condition,  and  not  knowing  the  road,  I  thought  I  should  stand  no  chance,  but  I  managed  to  run 
in  first  of  the  Norfolk  team  and  third  in  the  race, — ^being  beaten  by  Yopplewell,  of  Ipswich,  by  7 
min.,  and  Oxborrow,  of  the  same  place,  by  i^  min.  My  time  was  3  h.  7  min.  The  next  day,  I 
rode  right  home,  a  distance  of  87  m., — my  longest  ride  in  one  day.  During  the  season  I  won  6 
first,  a  second  and  a  third  prizes,  and  rode  6244  m.  In  '81,  I  moved  to  I>ocking,  in  Norfolk,, 
and  rode  during  the  year  no  less  than  7302  m.  I  this  year  used  a  55  in.  Sandringham,  made  es- 
pecially for  me  by  Cox,  of  Lynn,  and  a  splendid  machine  it  was  at  that  time.  My  most  potable 
rides  this  year  were  :  Docking  to  Diss,  61  m.  in  5  h.,  Apr.  17 ;  Ipswich  to  Docking,  8a  m.  in 
10^  h.,  Apr.  19  (strong  head,  wind),  and  Docking  to  Peterboro  and  back,  117  m.,  June  32,  the 
first  time  I  ever  rode  as  much  as  100  m.  in  a  day.  I  took  during  the  year  7  first,  4  second  and  a 
third  prizes.     I  sailed  Sept.  39  for  Canada,  where  I  spent  the  winter,  returning  home  in  March. 

"  During  '82,  I  went  in  for  bicycling  with  a  vengeance,  riding  no  less  than  976a  m.,  my 
longest  ride  being  150  m.  in  18  h.  on  a  44  in.  Facile,  in  the  great  34  h.  race  from  London  to  Bath 
and  back.  I  was  only  able  to  use  one  arm,  having  a  short  time  before  put  my  wrist  out  by  fall- 
ing off  of  my  machine.  Besides  medal  in  Facile  race,  I  took  1 1  first  prizes,  4  second  and  a 
third;  also  championship  of  the  Fakenham  B.  C,  for  14  m.  in  48^  min.  Most  of  my  races 
this  year  I  ran  from  scratch.  In  '83  I  moved  to  Long  Sutton,  and  rode  6754^  m.,  taking  7  first 
and  8  second  prizes  and  a  gold  medal.  This  brought  my  number  of  prizes  up  to  53.  During 
the  season  I  rode  911}  m.  in  four  34  h.  rides  thus  :  June  33,  %l^\  m.,  in  the  Facile  race.  I 
could  have  increased  this  to  330  m.,  if  I  had  known  where  Adams  was.  July  7,  in  the  tricycle 
race,  I  pushed  a  44  in.  Facile  ao6  m.  and  then  gave  up,  at  iz.05  p.  m.,  having  several  times  lost 
my  way.  Aug.  8,  I  started  on  my  55  in.  to  try  and  cut  the  34  h.  record,  and  although  it  rained 
most  of  the  day,  and  a  strong  wind  was  blowing,  I  succeeded  in  doing  331^  m.,  thus  easily  beat- 
ing the  record.  So  certain  was  I,  however,  of  being  able  to  do  more  under  better  circumstances, 
that,  on  Aug.  17,  I  made  another  attempt,  and  by  midnight  had  ridden  355I  m.  After  this  ride, 
I  announced  my  intention  of  retiring  from  the  racing  path,  but  the  old  love  being  so  strong  in 
'84,  I  could  not  resist  the  invitation  to  race  again ;  and,  entering  for  four  events  at  the  Wisbech 
sports  on  Whitmonday,  I  won  the  lot, — ^all  from  scratch.  I  ran  at  a  few  other  meetings  during 
the  year  and  took  3  second  prizes ;  also  a  medal  in  the  100  m.  Kangaroo  race.  My  whole  mile- 
age in  '84  was  4120.  On  Whitmonday,  '85,  I  won  i  m.  and  3  m.  races  from  scratch,  at  the 
Long  Sutton  Cricket  Club  sports,  thus  raising  my  number  of  prizes  to  62.  I  now  ride  a  light  53 
in.  Sandringham,  and  I  keep  by  me  my  old  53  in.  Sandringham,  which  is  still  as  good  as  new. 
Although  it  has  been  ridden  by  my  brother  and  myself  over  30,000  m.  it  has  had  only  one  set  of 
new  rubbers.  The  first  set  probably  ran  about  17,000  m.,  though  I  did  n't  make  a  note  of  it  at 
the  time,  and  I  think  they  were  turned  once.  The  present  tires  will  serve  for  many  m.  more, 
for  my  brother  uses  the  old  bi.  nearly  every  day.  Owmg  partly  to  my  recent  marriage,  I  'vt 
only  wheeled  1333  m.  in  '85,  up  to  date  (Aug.  14),  though  I  hope  to  put  in  a  good  score  before 
the  year  closes.  My  total  mileage  is  now  53,343.  Never  having  seen  a  cyclometer  which  I 
could  depend  upon,  I  've  kept  the  record  from  my  knowledge  of  roads  near  home,  and  from 
maps  and  county  directories,  supplemented  by  enquiries  made  while  riding.  Most  of  our  high- 
ways have  m.  stones  on  them,  and  whenever  there 's  been  any  doubt  about  distances,  I  *ve  put 
down  the  lowest  one ;  so  that  I  'm  sure,  in  fact,  of  having  traveled  many  more  m.  than  re- 
corded. I  've  taken  no  note  of  '  separate  miles,'  but  my  rides  have  embraced  most  of  the 
principal  roads  in  eastern,  southern  and  central  England." 

**  The  Haverstock  Cycling  Club  are  essentially  a  road-riding  club,"  says  IVketling,  **  and 
may  well  be  proud  of  their  prowess  in  piling  up  distances."  The  sub-captain  of  that  club, 
Harry  J.  Jones  (b.  May  3,  1864),  rode  16,016  m.  during  the  3  years  ending  with  June,  '85,  and 
no  less  than  3597  m.  of  this  was  separate  roadway.  The  riding  days  were  S5S»  showing  an 
average  ride  of  28I  m.  Riding  days,  mileage,  longest  ride,  average  ride,  and  fresh  road  of 
each  year,  are  shown  by  the  following  figures  :    '83,  37,  1013,  65,  37,  349I ;  '83,  303, 5022^,  163, 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS, 


S39 


a4f»  859J  t  *84,a87, 8a4»l.  aoyi,  89, 1630;  *85,  3a,  1740,  143,  54I,  74a.  It  will  be  seen  that  the 
two  yean,  '83-'84,  show  a  mileage  of  13,264,  as  compared  with  385a  of  the  two  half-years 
combined.  The  rider's  reports  to  me  (Jan.  and  July,  '85)  are  as  follows  :  "  I  use  the  bicy- 
cle to  save  walking  whenever  possible,  both  for  journeying  to  business  and  for  various  every- 
day pursuits.  A  good  deal  of  my  riding  has  been  done  in  Bedfordshire  and  Hunts — these  two 
counties,  in  my  opinion,  having  the  best  roads  in  England.  I  also  know  Bucks,  Herts,  Middle- 
sex, Notts,  Essex,  Su£Folk,  Surrey,  and  Northamptonshire  well.  I  have  ridden  in  34  English 
counties,  29  county  towns,  and  in  Wales.  My  principal  tour  (Sept.,  '84),  was  671  m.,  through 
Oxford,  Gloucester,  Monmouth,  Hereford,  Worcester,  Birmingham,  Wolverhampton,  Stafford, 
Shrewsbury,  Wrexham,  Chester,  Manchester,  Sheffield,  Doncaster,  Southwell,  Nottingham, 
Derby,  Leicester,  and  Northampton.  The  time  was  8  days,  and  the  m.  of  separate  roadway 
equaled  555.  This  was  followed,  near  the  close  of  the  month,  by  a  visit  to  the  Druidical  re- 
mains at  Stonehenge,  and  to  Salisbury  and  Wincanton,  343  m.  in  2  d.  9  h.  I  had  also  indulged 
in  a  three  days'  tour  in  Aug.  to  St.  Ives,  Whittlesea,  Stamford,  Newark,  Lincoln  and  Navenby 
(157  m.  the  first  day),  returning  through  Loughborough  and  Oakham,  334  m.  Another  of  my 
tours  (10  days  in  Oct.,  '83)  was  in  the  eastern  counties  to  Epping,  Eye,  Bungay,  Beccles,  Nor- 
wich, Fressingfield,  Lowestoft ;  home  by  Cambridge  and  Ricely,  456  m.  (fresh  ground  329  m.). 
I  have  also  made  several  circular  excuruons  in  '84,  starting  in  the  afternoon  and  riding  through- 
out the  night  and  the  next  day ;  by  these  means  bringing  more  fresh  country  within  my  reach. 
E.  g.f  to  Warwick,  189  m.,  taking  up  about  33  h.;  Buckingham  and  Kimbolton,  181  m.,  in  about 
27  h.;  Ely  and  Newmarket,  about  163  m.  in  30  h.  My  longest  score  for  a  month  is  1481  m.; 
for  a  week,  511  m.;  for  two  days,  238  m.;  or  for  separate  road  only  {jt,  #.,  ground  never  before 
traversed  by  me),  701,  457,  and  169  m.  respectively.  My  mileage  of  8241  in  '84  (when  my 
hours  devoted  to  business  averaged  50  per  week,  excepting  13  days)  comprises  16  rides  of  100 
m.  or  more,  amounting  to  2127  m.  and  averaging  133  m.  each ;  25  rides  from  50  to  95  m.,  averag- 
ing 66  m.;  170  rides  of  from  11  to  49  m.,  and  74  rides  of  10  m.  and  under ;  these  last  lowering  the 
'average  length '  consideraUy.  The  four  best  rides  average  175  m.,  the  9  best,  151  m.,  while 
the  34  longest  average  100  m.  each.  The  very  longest  was  207^  m.  Oct.  5,  in  23  h.  54  min. 
Longest  stay  in  saddle,  66}  m.  in  7  h.,  from  St.  Albans  into  Peterborough.  The  route  was  to 
Market-Deeping,  returning  through  Huntingdon,  Cambridge,  and  St.  Neots.  Night  riding,  34 
per  cent.  I  have  passed  through  Bamet  36  times  in  the  dark,  and  Redbum  4  times,  although  I 
have  never  seen  the  place  by  daylight.  I  've  started  out  at  midnight  on  12  occasions,  the  rides 
averaging  13 1  m.  Longest  stretch  of  road  traversed  without  any  walking,  162  m.  on  the  Great 
North  Road,  from  London  (Smithfield)  to  Doncast^.  On  July  24,  '83,  I  rode  to  Norman's 
Cross  and  back,  with  deviation,  151  m.,  in  16  h.  5  min.,  doing  100  m.  of  it  in9  h.  54  min.,  for 
club  medal.  April  13,  '83,  to  Wandsford  and  back,  162  m.,  winning  a  much-coveted  prize,  an 
old  book  called  '  Paterson's  Roads,'  offered  by  Mr.  Hayes  for  the  greatest  distance  out-and-in 
on  the  Great  North  Road.  I  took  the  attendance  prise  as  well,  by  covering  1536}  m.  in  the  33 
consecutive  runs,  which  included  the  excursions  to  Ipswich,  Lewes,  and  Portsmouth,  and  the  two 
150-m.  competitions.  I  learned  to  ride  in  June,  '8a,  and  in  Sept.  took  train  to  Lincoln,  and 
wheeled  back  to  London,  126  m.,  in  2}  days.  This  first  ride  in  Lincolnshire  was  not  a  success; 
as,  losing  all  control  on  the  dangerous  hill  at  Welltngore,  I  fell  on  my  head  and  back,  breaking 
off  the  saddle  as  well.  This,  the  blacksmith  at  Leadenham  fastened  on  with  wire,  but  the  last 
20  m.  of  my  journey  home  was  accomplished  by  means  of  string.  First  long  ride  (undertaken 
to  top  the  '  century ')  was  on  April  13,  '83,  to  Wansford  and  back,  162  m.,  in  19I  h.  My  pre- 
vious best  was  69  m.  Longest  stay  in  saddle,  39  m.  in  sf  h.  I  have  kept  a  record  of  all  my 
riding  from  the  first,  with  remarks  on  the  scenery,  levels,  surface,  and  anything  else  useful  or 
interesting,  about  any  fresh  road  traversed.  These  details,  sorted  into  counties,  prove  very 
useful  for  reference.  My  distances  have  been  taken  from  '  Paterson's  Roads,'  and  ordnance 
maps,  and  by  actual  measurement.  My  8241  m.  of  riding  in  '84  was  all  done  on  a  49  in.  Regent 
(by  J.  Trigwell,  a  London  maker),  ball  bearings  all  over,  including  head,  which  has  been  adjusted 
but  once.  My  previous  wheels  were  50  in.  and  48  in.,  plain  bearings.  In  the  following 
monthly  tables  for  '83  and  '84,  the  four  columns  of  numerals  respectively  denote  riding  days. 


540 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


mSeage,  longest  ride  tnd  average  ride.    The  fifth  colvmn  of  the  teoood  table  shows  the  iiig^< 
riding  of  *84,  and  the  sixth  shown  the  combined  ntuleage  of  the  two  yean : 

Jan 


Feb.,.. 
Mar.,. 
April,. 
May,. 
June, . 
July,.. 
Aug., . 
Sept.,. 
Oct.,.. 
Nov.,. 
Dec.,. 


o 
I 

lo      704 


o 
as 
5ta|      69 


o        o 

22        22 


33 

162        35 


20  494  80  24I 

19  558*  »58  29^ 

19  482  I so J  25 

28  578  76^  2ci 

17  496  122  29   ' 

13  SSH  "5  42I 

a»  259I      3»  «o 

10  ytqk  >'  '4 


Touts ao2 


16a       24^ 


Jan.,. 
Feb.,. 
Mar.,. 
April,. 
May,. 


»S 
18 

•3 

«9 
3» 


«7<4 
220^ 

553} 

601 

909 


June, aS    lon^ 


July,. 
Aug.,. 


26 
»3 


600} 
963 


Sept., 27    1481 


39 
40 

HI 

63 
162 

»44 

63 

»S7 
126 


XI 

a4 

a9 
36 
»3 
4* 
54? 


Oct.,  . 
Nov.,. 
Dec.,. 


28 

«9 

20 


804 
538 
390 


307}    28] 

1 75      a8 
70      19I 


5a 

9» 

»39 
146 

207 
183 
73 
330 
563 
393 
334 
«36| 


«70* 
»4^* 
1025 

1305 

1095 

1570 

1082I 

»54i 

«977 
1360} 

7975 
699I 


f « ' 


Totals, a87    8241^    t3S7i    «9     3848}       13,364 

'  The  mileage  for  the  first  half  of  '85  gives  the  meager  total  of  1740,  made  up  by  18  nms  under 
50  m.,  7  otheis  not  exceeding  94  m.,  and  7  over  the  century;  fresh  groond  coveted,  742  m.,  or 
34  per  cent.  My  longest  straightaway  stay  in  the  saddle  was  13S  h.  (June  s8,  6  a.  m.  to  7.45 
p.  M.),  a  lowering  of  6|  h.  from  my  previous  besL  After  starting  from  hone,  I  made  my  first  at- 
tempt at  riding  up  the  notorious  West  Hill  (Highgate),  and  having  oonqoered  this,  I  kept  on 
through  Epping  Green,  Hertford,  Caxton,  Ellington,  Thrapston,  and  Kettering  to  Harrold 
(Beds),  106  m.  without  a  dismount.  I  afterwards  wheeled  enough  to  make  the  day's  total  143 
m.  My  looth  m.  was  completed  at  the  '  second  danger4M>ard  hill '  asoent  at  WoUaston ;  and  72^ 
m.  had  never  been  ridden  by  me  before.  As  I  was  not  intending  sudi  a  feat  «4ien  I  started,  I 
carried  no  refreshment  whatever.  Alfred  Hayes's  challenge  for  a  47  m.  ride  to  Bedford  was 
what  inspired  me  to  keep  the  saddle,  after  once  getting  well  started ;  and  my  doing  the  106  m. 
induced  him  in  turn  to  ride  70  m.  without  a  dismount.  The  Great  North  Road  is  certainly  the 
best  average  cycling  highway  in  England.  I  estimate  to  have  wheeled  2700  m.  on  it,  an  analy- 
sis of  the  number  of  my  visits  to  various  places  along  it  showing  as  follows  :  1 19  times  to  Bamet, 
II  m.  from  home ;  43  to  Hatfield,  20  m.;  6  to  Baklock,  37  m.;  (30  to  Hitdiin,  34  m.);  18  to  Girt- 
ford,  48  m.;  8  to  Eaton-Sooon,  55  m.;  11  to  Alconbury  Hill,  66  m.;  2  to  Stamford  and  Grantham, 
90  and  iio  m.;  4  to  Newark,  124  m.;  i  to  Tuxford  and  Doncaster,  138  and  16a  m.  It  may  be 
observed  that  these  visits  seem  somewhat  erratic  i?.  /-.,  I  've  turned  at  Stamfond  only  half  as 
many  times  as  at  Newark,  which  is  34  m.  beyond.  The  London  editor  of  the  Cyciiti,  C  W. 
Nairn,  often  advises  tourists  for  Biggleswade  to  go  by  way  of  Httchin  (which  I  've  put  m  paren- 
thesis, to  show  that  it 's  off  the  road),  rather  than  by  way  of  Baldock,  which  is  #«  the  road.  Bad 
weather  accounts  in  part  for  decreased  mileage  of  '85,  and  a  bad  fall  at  Easter  accounts  for  the 
rest  of  it.  This  resulted  from  my  striking  a  limp  of  wood,  dropped  from  a  cart,  in  the  dad&, 
while  bounding  down  a  steep  hill,  in  the  Forest  oi  Dean,  Gloucestershire.  For  days  afterwards, 
my  left  arm  was  bent  at  right  angles,  and  my  right  wrist  powerless  lor  lifting  even  a  cup,<-Ho  aiy 
nothing  of  a  strained  left  ankle,  a  thumb  crushed  open  up  to  the  naS,  and  a  bump  on  the  back  of 
my  head.  I  had  a  serious  fall  also  in  Aug.,  '84,  in  fraot  of  the  Mansion  House,  dislocating  ray 
left  shoulder;  but  within  a  fortnight  afterwards,  I  entered  a  a4  h.  competition,  and  rode  the  far- 
,  thest  (103  m.),  with  my  arm  in  a  sling  and  through  a  pouring  rain,--two  friends  helping  me  on 
and  off  at  first.  The  bicyde  was  not  to  be  blamed  for  either  of  my  accidents,  and  it  proved  the 
best  cure  for  both.  Perhaps  you  had  better  not  publish  anything  about  them,  lest  they  be  made 
to  serve  wrongfully  as  texts  against  the  safety  of  cycling." 

Alfred  Hayes  (b.  Dec.  9,  i8$i),  one  of  the  foundersof  the  Haverstock  C.  C.,and  its  first  le^ 
retary,  has  a  9  years'  mileage  record  of  considerably  more  than  the  29,si6,  which  is  divided  thoa : 
♦77,20001  '78,  2868;  '79,  2980;  *8o,  2855;  »8i,  2826;  '82.  3597;  *8S»  5354;  *84,  4356*.  '85(10 
Aug.  16),  2380.  The  monthly  analjrsis  of  his  best  year,  '83  (riding  days,  mileage  and  longest  ride), 
>s  as  follows :    Jan.,  31,  215,  40;  Feb.,  28,  288,  57 ;  Mar.,  31,  $57,  90;  Apr.,  30, 487,  106;  May, 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  S4» 

SI,  707, 120;  Junt,  a$,  511,  is6;  July,  8, 697,  173 ;  Aug.,  10,678,  140;  Sept,  7,  4a4>  «oo;  Oct., 
7,  316,  90;  Nov.,  8,  a  13,  jo;  Dec,  8,  a6i,  45.  Of  lUe  224  days,  p  were  Sundays,  with  a  mile- 
age of  3691,  as  compared  to  the  1663  m.  ridden  00  the  other  17a  days.  On  7  consecutive  Sun> 
days,  he  rede  907  m.,  as  shown  by  this  extract  from  the  BL  Nttm  (Sept.  ai,  '83),  which  de- 
scribed the  Ai«.  5  trip  in  full :  "July  aa,  Peterborough  and  back,  164 ;  July  29,  Market-Deep, 
ing  and  back,  174;  Aug.  5,  Dunstable,  Ware,  Bishop  Stortford  and  Colchester,  105;  Aug.  la, 
Sl  Neou  and  back,  104 ;  Aug.  19,  Biggleswade,  Cambridge,  and  Huntingdon ;  returning  through 
Buckden,  140;  Aug.  a6,  Bedford,  Sl  Neois,  and  Caxton;  returning  through  Royston  and 
Ware,  lao ;  Sept.  a,  to  the  Rye  House,  thence  to  Hertford,  Stevenage,  Biggleswade,  and  Girt- 
ford ;  returning  through  Uitchin,  xoo."  From  his  letters  to  me  of  Aug.  15,  '84,  and  Aug.  18,  '85, 
I  condense  the  following :  "  Like  yourself,  I  learned  to  ride  the  wooden  bone-shaker  in  '69,  and 
have  always  stuck  to  46  in.  as  the  proper  sixe  of  wheeL  My  first  was  an  Ariel,  and  I  've  been 
riding  regularly  ever  since  I  got  it,  in  '75 ;  though  it  was  not  until  I  superseded  this  by  an  Eclipse, 
in  '77i  that  I  beg^  to  keep  a  record.  My  riding,  that  year,  reached  just  2000  m.,  and  was  re- 
corded in  the  first  of  the  bicycle  annuals  which  published  a  diary  of  such  things.  In  '8a  a  Lon- 
don maker  named  Pick  built  me  what  I  then  thought  a  beautiful  little  bicycle ;  and  I  'm  now 
able  to  say  (Aug.  18,  '85),  after  about  15,000  m.  of  experience  with  it,  that  it 's  the  best  one  I 
ever  had.  Though  I  was  bom  in  London,  my  parents  are  natives  of  Lincolnshire ;  and  that 
fact  perhaps  accounts  in  part  for  my  rides  being  mostly  confined  to  the  Great  North  Road.  The 
number  of  visits  I  've  made  to  places  along  it  (with  figures  in  parenthesis  showing  some  of  the 
disunces  fi^m  home)  may  be  noted  thus :  Bamet  (8|),  a7S  ;  Hatfiekl  (17},  151 ;  Welwyn  (22), 
101 ;  Girtford,  41 ;  Terapsford,  25  ;  £aton>Socon,  23 ;  Buckden,  a9 ;  Alombuxy  (63),  a8 ;  Nor- 
nwn's  Cross  (73),  18 ;  Stamford  (86),  8 ;  Grantham,  i ;  Newark,  1.  I  'vc  thrice  done  the  73  m. 
to  Norman's  Cross,  inside  6  h.  50  roin.;  and  some  of  my  other  long  rides  may  be  named  thus  : 
June  5,  '81,  Stamford,  86  m.  in  8  h.  50  min.;  July  a,  '82,  Stamford  and  back  in  aj^  h.;  July  16, 
'8a,  Peterborongh,  78  m,  in  7}  h.;  and  July  a9,  '83,  Market-Deeping  and  back,  176  m.  in  a3  b. 
Up  to  July  aa,  '84,  my  runs  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  three  places  last  named  numbered  14. 
My  longest  day's  ride  in  '84  was  134  m.,  and  in  '85  (to  Aug.  18),  150  m.  During  these  two  years 
I  've  made  40  trips  to  Hitchin  (31m.  out),  and  19  trips  to  Bedford  (47  m.).  My  business  is 
that  of  leather-seller,  which  I  manage  single  handed ;  but  on  Thursdays  I  shot  up  shop  at  a,  and 
generally  devote  the  rest  of  the  day  to  the  wheel.  Sunday  is  the  favorite  time  for  it,  however, 
for  then  the  roads  are  mostly  deserted  of  traffic,  and  are  not  made  muddy  by  the  water  carta. 
I  've  ridden  every  Sunday  since  Apr.  30,  '8a. "    (This  last  remark  is  dated  Apr.  19,  '85.) 

The  hon.  sec.  of  the  Belsize  B.  C,  R.  P.  Hampton  Roberts,  in  yielding  to  my  repeated 
requests  for  a  personal  statement,  without  regard  to  whether  the  mUeage  were  much  or  little, 
supplied  the  following  report,  July  ao,  '85 :  "  It  must  be  remembered  that  these  figures  are 
only  those  of  an  ordinary  rider,  and  the  pnsentatbn  of  such  particulars  in  minute,  analytical 
form  is  made  merely  to  meet  your  requirements  for  complete  information  about  a  fairly  repre- 
senutive  record  of  an  average  Englishman  who  wheels  aooo  m.  a  year.  I  began  in  May,  '77, 
without  any  preliminary  experience  on  the  bone-«haker,  and  rode  pretty  steadily  to  the  end  of 
May,  '84,  when  my  total  was  16,000  m.  In  June,  I  was  compelled,  under  medical  advice,  to  aban- 
don bicydmg  *for  a  season,'  owing  to  illness  (brought  on,  in  a  laige  measure,  it  is  feared,  by  a 
somewhat  injudicious  indulgence  in  the  fascinating  but  slightly  treacherom  pastime);  and 
thou|^  the  medical  veto  has  unce  been  removed,  that  has  not,  so  far,  led  to  a  resumption  of 
riding  on  the  old  scale.  My  only  trials  of  the  wheel  for  a  year  past  have  been  two  rides  in  June, 
amounting  to  60  m.  Out  of  my  total  mileage  (16,060),  only  about  320  m.  have  been  covered  by 
tricyde,  and  over  3300  m.  have  not  been  repeated ;  that  is  to  say,  the  ground  has  only  once  been 
traveled  over ;  880  m.  were  ridden  in  V?*'?^*  when  unattached  to  any  club ;  2700  m.  in  attend- 
ing the  regular  club  runs  of  the  Belsise  B.  C.  on  Saturday  afternoons,  and  nearly  1000  m.  in 
attending  the  official  tours  of  the  same  club,  which  take  place  three  times  a  year,  though  I  did 
not  attend  all  of  these.  A  total  of  1784  m.  was  covered  in  16  rides  of  xoo  m.  or  over  in  a  day  of 
24  h.,  thus  :  '79,  110;  '81, 105  ;  '82,  100,  104,  107,  113, 129,  130,  150;  '83, 100, 101,  103,  104, 107, 
108,  1 13.     It  may  be  observed  of  my  longest  day's  ride  (150  m.),  that  it  was  part  of  a  oonttnuoos 


542 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ride  <A  189  m.,  of  which  the  other  39  m.  were  ridden  before  the  day  began.  On  this  occadon,  I 
made  my  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  without  a  dismount,  48  m.  The  longest  distance  ridden  in  a 
month  was  872  m.  in  Aug.,  '81 ;  though  I  rode  864  m.  in  Aug.,  '82,  and  monthly  totals  varying 
from  797  to  522  m.  were  made  in  8  other  mos.,  between  '81  and  '83.  I  have  made  three  ex- 
tended tours  out  of  England.  In  *8i,  nearly  3  weeks  in  Normandy  and  Brittany,  with  H. 
Blackwell,  of  the  Canonbury  B.  C,  when  a  total  distance  of  696  m.  was  covered.  In  '82,  2 
weeks  in  Normandy,  BritUny  and  the  Valley  of  the  Loire,  with  W.  E.  Milner  and  H.  C.  Wild, 
fellow  clubmen,  when  a  total  distance  of  574  m.  was  covered.  In  '83,  nearly  3  weeks  in  Switzer- 
land, also  with  feUow  clubmen,  W.  E.  Milner,  E.  Tegetmeier  and  R.  Revell,  when  a  total  di»> 
tance  of  400  m.  was  covered.  Shorter  tours  in  England^  extending  over  3,  4  or  5  days  at  a  time, 
have  often  been  undertaken,  and  the  total  distance  covered  in  this  way  (excluding  that  on  dub 
tours  already  mentioned)  has  been  3390  m.  Adding  club  tours  and  tours  abroad,  we  arrive  at  a 
total  of  6c6o  ra.  traveled  in  this  way.  Hence  the  following  approocimate  statement :  Mileage 
in  touring,  6060 ;  as  an  unattached  rider,  880;  in  attending  Belsize  B.  C.  runs,  2700;  in  private 
runs,  6420.  Winter  riding  has  not  been  practiced  to  any  considerable  extent.  In  the  8  years, 
only  4  machines  have  been  ridden :  a  54  in.  Gentlemen's  Roadster,  a  53  in.  Hollow  Spoke 
Carver,  a  53  in.  Humber  and  a  56  in.  Rucker.  The  Humber  saw  the  greatest  service,  more 
than  11,850  m.,  including  the  three  tours  abroad.  The  distances  here  given  have  been  carefully 
measured  on  various  maps,  in  most  cases  the  Ordnance  Survey  maps  of  England  (as  well  as 
those  of  France  and  Switzerland  for  the  riding  done  in  those  countries),  and  in  many  cases 
the  distances  have  also  been  checked  from  the  sundard  road  books  of  Gary,  ftterson  and 
Howard.  In  the  following  tabular  view  of  seven  years'  wheeling,  the  riding  days  and  miles  of 
each  month  are  shown,  with  a  colon  separating  them.  First,  however,  I  give  the  annual  totals, 
with  average  ride  and  longest  ride :  i4:2>5>  16,  50;  28:590,  21,  63 ;  48:1280,  27,  no;  43:1276, 
a9.  77;  94:3«90»  34.  '05;  109:4610,  42,  150;  95:4056,  45,  x»3;  27:773,  29,  7a  Grand  total, 
458:16,000,  35»  »5o- 


Year. 

Jan. 

Feb. 

Mar. 

Apr. 

May. 

Jime. 

July. 

Aug. 

Sept. 

Oct 

Nov. 

Dec 

'77. 

•  •  •  • 

•  •  •• 

•  •  •  • 

•  ■  •• 

3:15 

3H2 

5:76 

•  •  •• 

a  73 

1:15 

i.^ 

•  •  «• 

'78. 

«:5 

••  •  ■ 

7:115 

4:68 

3:162 

2:30 

S:"4 

2:23 

4:73 

•  •  a  • 

•  •  •  • 

■  •  •  • 

*79. 

•  •  •  • 

•  ••• 

«:5 

3:63 

8:298 

6:117 

9-67 

7:222 

3:113 

6:241 

5:154 

•  •  •  • 

»8o. 

•  •  •  • 

•  ■  •  • 

7:270 

7  "97 

6:230 

7:*4S 

6:212 

7:156 

1:20 

2:46 

•  •  •  « 

•  ■  •• 

»8i. 

•  •  •  • 

••  •  ■ 

3  HO 

11:194 

16:522 

10:331 

14:567 

19:87a 

9:326 

835s 

3:40 

«:43 

♦82. 

•  •  •  • 

1:17 

9:279 

13:690 

17:763 

9^02 

>3:7»5 

22:864 

im74 

6:167 

4:150 

4:89 

•83. 

•  •  •  • 

•  •  •  • 

6:104 

10:407 

8:340 

15:797 

12:653 

11:654 

13^50 

9:34a 

7:185 

4:124 

'84. 

3:57 

6:aio 

6:170 

3:63 

6:148 

3:125 

■  •  •  • 

•  •  •  • 

•  •  •  • 

•  •  •  • 

•  ■  •  • 

•  •  •  • 

4.'62  7:227  39:983  51:158a  663476  553089  643404  683791  435*5*9  3a:«o66  20:535  9^56 

The  five  principal  scores  made  m  '83  by  members  of  his  dub  were  tabulated  for  the  BL 
Neufs  by  Mr.  R.,  who  vouched  for  the  distances  being  carefully  verified.  His  own  ranked 
fourth.  The  rest  stood  thus  :  E.  Tegetmeier  (see  p.  532),  10,053,  of  which  2375  was  in  22  runs, 
thus:  100,  104,  112,  126,  102,  to2,  154,  115, 122, 105,  100,  103,  101,  107,  103,  102,  103,  103, 100, 
102,  102,  105;  W.  E.  Milner,  5548,  of  which  1434  was  in  13  runs:  130,  125,  114,  iii,  no,  no, 
X09,  108,  108,  103,  102,  102,  102;  Roland  Revell,  4063,  of  which  523  was  in  5  runs:  108,  no, 
102,  101,  102 ;  J.  Milner,  4033,  including  z  run  of  112.  W.  E.  Milner*s  riding  was  done  on  140 
days,  making  his  average  ride  39!  m.;  but  his  record  for  51  Sundays  was  3354,  an  average  of 
65|m.,  as  compared  with  2t94m.  on  the  other  89  days.  The  only  Sunday  when  he  did  no 
wheeling  was  while  riding  with  his  bicyde  towards  Switzerland ;  and  his  machine  came  to  grief 
on  each  of  the  two  Sundays  when  his  score  was  less  than  26  m.  His  13  best  scores  have  already 
been  given  ;  and  the  remaining  48  Sunday  rides,  in  the  order  of  their  mileage,  were  as  follows  : 
86,  82,  76,  75,  74,  70,  70,  68,  60,  60,  59,  57,  57,  56,  55,  54,  53,  50,  50.  50, 49.  48,  45i  45»  43.  4«,  4©, 
4o>  38,  38,  38,  38,  37,  32,  32,  26,  18,  10.  By  months,  his  Sundays'  mileage  and  average  ride 
stood  thus:  Jan.,  176,  44;  Feb.,  231,  57;  Mar.,  304,  76;  Apr.,  406,  81;  May,  296,  74;  June, 
339.  84;  July,  387.  77;  Aug.,  406,  101;   Sept.,  220,  55;  Oct.,  226,  56;   Nov.,  193,  48;  Dec, 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  543 

170, 34.  Though  J.  Milner*s  longest  scores  were  112  and  84  m.,  bis  riding  was  confined  to  93 
da]rs,  and  so  made  the  high  average  of  43  m.,  or  only  i  m.  less  than  £.  Tegetmeier's.  Roland 
Revell's  1 16  rides  averaged  35  tn.  each,  though  he  did  no  wheeling  in  Jan.  and  Feb.  and  only 
34  m.  in  Nov.  The  mileage  of  the  5  men  during  the  \  year,  Apr.  to  Sept,  may  be  thus  com- 
pared: Tegetmeier,  5789;  W.  £.  MDner,  3730;  Roberts,  3301;  Revell,  3064;  J.  Milner,  2421. 
The  3691  m.  ridden  by  A.  Hayes  on  53*  Sundays  of  '83  (p.  541)  may  be  compared  with  the 
3354  m.  of  W.  E.  Milner ;  and  with  both  may  be  compared  the  2770  m.  done  in  '83  on  a  50  in. 
tricycle  by  M.  E.  O.  James,  who  does  not  ride  on  Sundays.  Evenings  and  Saturday  afternoons 
mark  the  limits  of  most  of  his  riding,  though  he  had  one  run  of  106  m.,  and  his  116  rides  repre- 
sented all  the  months,  the  mileage  of  the  12  standing  thus :  ai,  73,  212,  435,  372,  309,  390,  451, 
187,  62,  228,  40.  Another  non-Sunday  rider  is  J.  S.  Warburton,  of  the  Surrey  United  B.  C, 
whose  160  rides  of  '83,  averaging  22^  m.  (longest,  loi^  m.),  were  taken  on  a  53  in.  Rucker,  and 
made  a  total  mileage  of  3603,  cUstributed  through  the  months  as  follows  1  9,  37,  292^,  387, 491^, 
436I,  544^,  772^,  241, 205,  114I,  182.  J.  Rowe,  of  the  Centaur  B.  C,  also  rode  every  month  of 
'S3  (279  days),  doing  1425  ro.  on  the  bi.,  and  2755  m.  on  the  trL  (single  and  sodaUe),  a  total  of 
4180  m.  His  wife  accompanied  him  on  the  sociable  for  1149  m.  of  this,— several  times  exceed- 
ing  50  m.,  and  once  riding  as  much  as  67  m.  His  own  longest  run  was  104  m.  in  May,  in  which 
month  he  rode  267  m.  on  the  bi.  and  259  m.  on  the  tri.  In  Aug.  his  tricycling  amounted  to 
777  m.  (best  run,  57  m.),  and  he  only  made  4  m.  on  the  U. 

The  captain  of  the  North  London  T.  C,  Henry  T.  Wharlow  (b.  Aug.  27,  1843),  ^  ac- 
countant, sends  me  this  brief  report :  "  I  began  on  the  bi.  in  '70  and  the  tri.  in  '78,  but  only  pot- 
tered  about,  as  most  other  fellows  did  in  those  days.  In  '79*  I  tool^  to  wheeling  in  earnest,  and 
my  annual  mile^e  totals  have  gradually  increa<ied  since  then,  thus :  680, 2050,  3205, 4162,  43x1, 
5915,  and  (in  '85  to  June  30)  3002,  making  23,325  m.  for  6^  years.  I  've  not  taken  many  single 
rides  in  excess  of  too  m.,--my  3  longest  being  140  in  '83, 151  in  '84  and  115  in  '85.  The  machines 
principally  ridden  have  been  Coventry  Rotary  and  Humber."  From  tables  in  the  Trieycluty  I 
append  his  monthly  mileage  for  two  years,  remarking  that  his  178  riding  days  of  '83  averaged  24 
m.  each,  and  269  days  of  '84  averaged  22  m.  each  :  Jan.,  ixr,  301 ;  Feb.,  115,  206;  Mar.,  467, 
497;  Apr.,  556,  536;  May,  627,  523  ;  June,  452,  444;  July,  576,  541;  Aug.,  332,  557;  Sept.,  326, 
725 ;  Oct.,  238,  613  ;  Nov.,  100,  535 ;  Dec,  411, 437.  From  the  same  paper,  I  reprint  the  tricy- 
cling scores  of  C.  W.  Brown  (b.  Apr.  4,  1865),  a  member  of  the  same  club,  for  the  last  lo  mos. 
of  '84,  giving  ridmg  days,  miles  and  furlongs  :  Mar.,  30,  516.4;  Apr.,  26,  743.7;  May,  28, 
664.1;  June,  30,  632.1;  July,  29,  698.7;  Aug.,  28,  507.5;  Sept.,  39,  834.0;  Oct.,  25,  615.6; 
Nov.,  25,  420.3;  Dec.,  21,  397.2.  His  longest  runs  were  101  m.  in  Apr.  and  103  in  Sept.  It 
will  be  seen  that  the  371  rides  amounted  to  6030}  m.,  an  average  of  33J  m.  His  record  for  '83 
was  3s6oJ  m.,  and  for  '85,  6454  m.,  of  which  4033  m.  were  ridden  in  the  last  \.  The  approxi- 
mate mileage  of  his  first  year,  '83,  was  looa,— making  a  total  of  17,043  m.  Longest  day's  run, 
160  m.  In  sending  me  these  facts,  "  Faed,"  another  member  of  the  club  (see  p.  534),  adds  : 
"  He  has  ridden  distances  of  at  least  10  ra.  each  on  50  difiFerent  makes  of  cycles,  but  principally 
on  the  Coventry  Rotary,  Humbcr,  and  Dearlove  tricydes."  Contrasted  with  this  is  the  report 
of  Walter  Binns  (b.  Jan.  31,  1845),  a  draper,  at  Salford,  who  was  persuaded  by  his  friend,  Mr. 
Goodwin  (see  p.  535),  to  send  me  the  following  :  "  My  present  machine,  a  British  Challenge,  has 
carried  me  neariy  13,000  m.,— my  total  mileage  being  33,147,  divided  thus  :  '79,  2447 ;  '80, 3407 ; 
*8i,  3840;  '83,  4437 ;  '83.  4*95 ;  '84,  3732  ;  '85  (up  to  May  6),  989.  I  'm  sorry  that  I  never  kept 
a  record  before  '79,  for  I  've  ridden  constantly  since  the  eariiest  days  of  the  bone-shaker.  I  see 
from  a  diary  of  '69  that  I  was  riding  then  ;  and  I  do  not  know  how  much  eariier.  As  my  work- 
ing hours  are  very  long,  I  use  the  bicycle  almost  entirely  in  going  to  and  from  business,  except 
that  I  take  my  annual  holidays  with  it,  and  Sunday  spins  through  Lancashire  and  Cheshire.  I 
suppose  I  *m  getting  to  be  rather  an  elderly  bicycler  as  well  as  bachelor;  but  I  mean  to  stick  to 
the  two-wheeler  as  long  as  I  can  get  on  the  top  of  one.    I  believe  in  rake,  robber  and  spring. " 

"A  monument  of  the  highest  value  to  the  practical  uses  of  the  wheel  sport "  was  the  edito- 
rial remark  attached  to  the  following  table  in  the  Tricyclist  (eariy  in  ♦84,  p.  397),  prepared  by 
the  Rev.  H.  C.  Courtney,  Vicar  of  Hatton,  to  exhibit  his  14  years'  riding.    "  I  do  not  suppose 


544 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


amy  one  else  has  kept  a  strict  account  of  their  riding  for  such  a  length  of  time,"  he  says,  "  and  I 
hope  that  my  showing  will  induce  more  men  to  stick  to  their  machines  through  the  winter,  aa 
well  as  the  other  seasons.  All  my  records,  for  the  years  before  *8i,  were  made  on  the  two- 
wheeler,  those  for  '70  ^^d  '72  on  bone-shakers ;  but,  as  I  have  ridden  4000  m.  in  '84  on  the  three- 
wheeler,  I  suppose  I  may  be  considered  a  bona  fide  tricyclist.  I  was  46  last  birthday,  and  am 
the  same  weight  (viz.,  12  stone)  as  when  I  was  at  Oxf9rd,  24  years  ago.  Although  a  good  deal 
of  the  distances  ubulated  were  done  in  my  own  parish  and  neighborhood,  I  have  ridden  through 
every  county  in  England  but  Kent;  every  county  in  Wales;  eight  counties  in  Scotland;  and 
three  departments  in  France."    Of  the  total  riding,  36,475  m.  belongs  to  the  last  seven  years. 

1870.   187a.    S873.   187$.    1876.   1877.    1878.    1879.    1880.   1881.   t88s.  1883.  Totals. 


January... 

0  .. 

0  ». 

9.. 

0  ..    0  ..    57  ••  282 

..225  ..    6a  ..  225 

..541 

..41X  ..  1,809 

Fdiniary.. 

0  .• 

0  .. 

0  .. 

0  ..     0  ..    59  ..  520 

..  10  ..    36  ..  107 

••533 

..571  «.  t,8a6 

March.... 

0  .• 

0  .. 

0  .. 

0  ..  49  ..  17X  ..  866 

..602  ..  537  ..  586 

..670 

..484  ••  3,965 

April 

0  .. 

0  .• 

0  .. 

0  ..286  ..  340  ..  674 

•  •584  ..  141  ..  687 

..604 

•  •708  *•  4fOa4 

May 

0  .. 

0  .. 

0  .. 

0  ..438  .•  369  ..  4x7 

•  .844  *•    9^^  **  S6a 

.•702 

.1050  ..  4,47a 

June 

0 .. 

4$  .. 

41  .. 

37  ..610  ..  475  ..  868 

..650  ..  348  ..  478 

••749 

••34a  ••  4f643 

July 

102  .. 

4S  - 

63  •• 

16S  ..313  ..  396  ..  344 

..839  ..  465  ..  615 

••583 

-465  ••  4.39* 

August.... 

262  .. 

96  ..2 

150  .. 

160  ..136  ..  62s  ••  355 

..580  ..  240  ..  635 

••3«3 

..588  ..  4>a9>> 

September. 

34  .. 

0  .• 

0  .. 

19  ..  44  ••  a34  .•  469 

..926  ..  346  ..  406 

-453 

-406  ..  3,337 

October... 

5  •• 

0  .• 

0  .. 

0  ••175  ..     41   •.  312 

..583  ..  255  ..  281 

..319 

..607  ..  2,478 

November. 

0  .. 

0  .. 

0  .. 

4  ••335  ••  369  ••  44a 

.^318  ..  254  ..  404 

••393 

••453  -  a,97» 

I>ecember. 

0  .. 

0  .. 

0  .. 

0  ..   77  ..  165  ..  3*3 

..  81  ..  291  ..  493 

-307 

••374  ••  a,i" 

Totals,     403       186      354     388    3463     3301    577a    6242     3055    5479    6167    6459    40,319 

J.  S.  Whatton  (b.  May  13,  x86i),  ez-captain  of  the  Cambridge  University  B.  C,  in  a  leuer 
to  me  of  July  25,  '85,  reported  thus  :  ''  My  mileage  lor  the  7  years  ending  June  30,  '85,  is 
30,700,  exactly ;  and  it  is  in  no  way  remarkable  except  for  the  fact  that  it  is  the  road-record  of  a 
man  who  has  gone  in  not  unsuccessfully  for  racing  during  the  last  4  of  the  7  years, — for  many  of 
our  best  racing  men  ride  little,  if  at  all,  on  the  road.  I  tabulate  the  mileage  by  seasons,  with 
longest  month's  record  and  longest  day's  ride,  thus  :  '.78,  988,  401,  57 ;  '79,  2246,  637,  85;  '80, 
2326,  631,  67 ;  *8i,  453o»  778,  84;  '82,  3143,  395f  »a5  ?  '83.  3596,  609,  113  ;  '84,  22431  39*.  20a ; 
'85,  i6a8,  580,  72.  This  includes  riding  in  every  English  county  but  two,  nearly  all  Scotland, 
and  a  little  of  Ireland.  About  a  quarter  of  it  is  made  up  of  touring.  Since  '81,  my  road-riding 
has  been  much  interfered  with  by  racing.  Road  machines  ridden,  58,  57,  and  56."  In  reply  to 
my  further  enquiries,  he  added,  Sept.  22  :  "  My  longest  straightaway  run  without  a  dismount  was 
from  London  (9,  Somers  Place,  Hyde  Park  Square),  to  Petersfield,  in  Hampshire,  55  m.,  tbroog^ 
Kingston  and  the  Hind  Head.  Longest  day's  ride,  Cambridge  to  Bath  202  m.  in  20  h.  Long- 
est  continuous  t^ur,  Glasgow  to  John  O'Groat's  and  back  through  Edinburgh,  YoriL,  and  Lon- 
don, to  Eastbourne  (with  my  brother,  A.  B.  Whatton),  about  iioo  m.  I  held  the  record  for  a  i 
m.  (flying  start)  from  July,  '82,  for  two  years ;  time,  36}  sees.;  and  am  ex-amateur  champion  for 
S  m.  Barring  accidents,  I  have  never  started  in  a  scratch  race  without  finishing  either  first  or 
second.  As  regards  regimen,  I  am  a  teetotaler  and  a  vegetarian.  I  took  my  degree  (ad  class 
in  Historical  Tripos),  at  Trinity  Coll.,  Camb.,  in  June,  '84,  and  my  earlier  education  was  had  at 
Haileybury  Coll.  I  belong  to  the  London  B.  C.  and  Bath  C.  C. ,  and  am  a  member  of  the  execu- 
tive in  the  N.  C.  U.  and  C.  T.  C."  Another  Londoner,  Frank  Salabury,  of  the  Clarence  B. 
C,  sends  me  tables  from  the  Bu  Hews^  showing  his  record  for  each  of  36  successive  months. 
Each  group  of  numerals  gives  the  riding  days,  longest  ride,  and  total  mileage  of  each  month,  and 
dashes  serve  to  separate  the  monthly  groups  of  '82  from  those  of  '83  and  '84 :  Jan.,  a,  ao,  28— 
8,  53»  «55— «3i  57.  409*.  Feb..  8,  40,  in— 7,  53.  130— «'.  59.  463;  Mar.,  18,  35.  »o6— la,  7*. 
365—25,  86,  725;  Apr.,  lo,  6a,  291—14,  "«,  503— »<>.  75.  619;  May,  11,  67,  336—23,  91,  569— 
29,93,  829;  June,  13,  36,  203—17.  «76,  579— *».  «".  75*  ♦  July,  la,  70,  399— ao.  65,  453— a4,  85. 
631;  Aug.,  14,  «oi,  4*7— «9.  «0Of  499— "7.  84,  813;  Sept.,  13,  128,  474— «7.  "3.  4«>— aa,  lao^ 
650;  Oct,  II,  63,  3*5— a*.  130,600—36,  183,  921;  Nov.,  13,  53,  294—14.  84»  375— «».  «oS»  8»*i 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS,  545 

Dec.,  5,  53, 111—13,  5S>  387^»8,  64,  545-    Totak,  130,  138,  3206—186,  176,  5015—263,  183, 
^78.    His  '8f  mileage  was  1903,  and  a  remaric  attached  to  the  '84  table  says  that  **  the  manii;^ 
was  a  48  in.  built  by  Grout,  which  has  been  ridden  altogether  about  17,000  ol  "    The  mileage  of 
his  9)  rides  in  '85,  up  to  May  31,  was  3407  (making  his  total  then,  3i,7oit),  and  as  this  was  laiger 
than  on  any  previous  year  at  that  date,  it  may  be  presumed  that  his  entire  score  for  '85  surpassed 
all  former  ones.    It  wiil  be  noted  that  his  day*s  rides  in  excess  of  100  m.  number  at  least  a  dozen. 
Fred.  W.  Brock,  of  Bristol,  writes  to  me  thus,  June  39,  '85  :  *'  I  learned  to  ride  as  far  \xaak. 
as  *67  or  '68,  when  I  was  but  a  small  boy.    My  first  machine,  of  the  old  wooden-wheel-and. 
iron-tire  class,  had  a  33  in.  driver,  with  a  33  in.  back  wheel  and  it  weighed  98  ibs.    Small  as 
this  may  seem,  I  had  to  get  on  a  pavement,  or  against  a  wall,  in  order  to  mount,  till  1  learned  to 
vault  into  the  saddle.     Having  used  this  for  some  years,  I  grew  out  of  it  and  neglected  riding, 
except  at  spasmodic  intervals,  until  V?  (or  perhaps  '76),  when  I  purchased  a  modem  bicycc,  and 
have  ridden  up  to  the  present  time,  always  having  at  least  3  machines  in  my  stud.     My  mileage, 
riding  days  and  longest  ride  may  be  shown  thus :     '78*  2069, 131,  loi ;   '79,  1353,  103,  64;   *8o, 
iS34f  80,  110;   '81,  3342,  140,  73  ;  totals  for  the  4  years,  7017  m.  in  444  days.     I  regret  to  have 
mislaid  my  diaries  for  other  years,  but  I  think  the  foregoing  is  about  an  average,  and  you  will 
see  from  it  that  my  riding  is  of  a  very  ordinary  sort.    My  only  tour  was  to  Paris  in  '78,  thou'*h 
I  took  part  in  the  Hampton  Court  meet  of  '81.    The  only  roos.  in  the  4  years  when  I  did  no 
riding  were  Feb.  and  Dec,  '78;  Jan.  and  Feb.,  '79;  and  Dec,  '80.    My  laigest  month's  rec- 
ord was  570,  in  July,  '78 ;  second  best,  430,  in  July,  '3i."    Another  contribution  to  my  "  statis- 
tics of  average  men  "  is  made  by  George  Hall  Rushworth  (b.  July  i,  1848),  a  stuff  merchant's 
manager  at  Bradford,  whose  mileage  from  May  4f  '83,  to  Sept.  30,  '85  (337  days),  was  83x5.  An 
analysis  of  it  may  be  shown  as  follows,  each  gioup  of  numerals  giving  the  riding  days,  nu]ea<*e, 
and  longest  ride  of  each  month,  and  dashes  separating  ths  monthly  groups  of  'S3  from  those  of  '84 
and  '85  :    Jan.,  o,  o,  0—2, 43,  35— 8,  164,  39;  Feb.,o,  o,  0—3,  47,  33—3, 31, 33 ;  Mar.,  o,  o,  o— 
9,  167,  40—13,  303,  53 ;  Apr  ,  o,  o,  0—13,  354,  83—13,  436,  97 ;  May,  14,  371,  54—13,  336,  65— 
«3f  39Sf  104;  June,  13,  399,  70— ajt  610,  83—10,  386,  64;   July,  14,  433,  70—16,374,  63— 18, 
310,  33;   Aug.,  33,  693,  7^—19,  515,  73—31,  410,  70;   Sept.,  11,  333,  77—17,  359,  5»— 13,  353, 
67;  Oct.,  4.  99»  38—10,  367,  85— (?),  (?),  (?);  Nov.,  1,  19,  19— 11,  3x7,  50— (>),  (?),  (?);  Dec,  3, 
38,  18—4,  85,  35.— <?)i  (?).  (?);   Totals,  81,3374,  77— «37.  3*63,  85—109?  3878?  104?.     My 
riding  has  been  chiefly  firom  and  to  Bradford ;  and  in  the  course  of  it  I  have  visited  37  principal 
towns  in  the  present  county  of  York,  9  in  Lancashire,  5  in  Durham,  and  3  in  Northumberland. 
My  longest  day's  run  was  to  Catterick  and  back  (loj  m.).  May  31,  '85.     I  may  add  that  my 
second  longest  day's  ride  was  to  Suoderiand  (n.  e.  of  Durham),  on  Good  Friday  last  (97  m.); 
also  that  during  all  my  riding  I  have  not  had  a  single  mishap  (of  sufficient  importance  to  re- 
member) either  to  myself  or  machine.    All  my  mileage  was  done  on  the  tricycle  until  July,  '85, 
when  I  got  a  Rover  Safety  bi.,  and  pushed  it  115  m.  (to  195  for  the  tri.).    All  my  Aug.  riding 
was  on  the  Rover,  and  in  Sept.  I  used  it  for  353  m.,  and  the  tri.  for  only  57  m." 

Scotland's  single  contribution  to  these  sutistics  is  supplied  by  Hugh  Callan  (b.  Aug.  13, 
'60),  M.  A.,  of  Glasgow  University  :  "  Having  learned  bicycling  last  December,  I  took  my  first 
ride  in  Jan.,  '85 ;  my  first  long  rid2  in  March  (80  m.),  and  second  in  June  (104  m.),  both  being 
m  the  daytime  and  continuous.  I  've  been  too  busy  to  be  out  much.  Longest  ride  within  13  h., 
July  33,  Berne  to  (Geneva,  98  m.  (equal  very  easily  to  no  m.  on  ordinary  roads).  Longest  stay 
m  the  saddle,  July  33,  Lausanne  to  Geneva,  37  m.  My  trail  was  continuous  from  Amstei^am 
to  Geneva  and  back  to  Arion  (948  m.),  July  13.38.  Other  details  of  my  1 100  m.  tour  you  may 
extract  from  the  Tri.  Jmtmal  (Aug.  19,  p.  87),  whereof  I  send  you  a  copy."  I  quote  from  this 
as  follows:  "Taking  train  July  9,  Glasgow  to  Carlisle,  I  wheeled  thence  to  Hull  on  nth 
(15*  m.),  and  embarked  for  Amsterdam.  I  give  the  terminal  town  and  mileage  of  each  day 
thus:  13th,  Anaheim,  67;  14th,  Duaseldorf,  71 ;  15th,  Coblentz,  80;  17th,  Mayence,  60;  18th, 
Heidelberg,  55;  i8th,  Strasbouig,  75  (where  spent  19th);  30th,  Basle,  78;  ai«t,  Berne,  60; 
S3d,  Geneva,  98;  33d,  Moiges,  13;  34th.  Besanjon,  79;  3sth,  Loup,  57;  36th,  Nancv,  73; 
37ih,  Hetlingen,  57 ;  38th,  Arion,  33.  Taking  train  thence  to  Antwerp,  I  sailed  homeward  on 
the  39th,  spent  30th  at  Hull,  and  took  train  to  Glasgow  on.  3i8t.  Baggage  in  m.  i.  p.,  10  lbs. 
35 


546 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


BritiBh  Challeoge  wheel  stood  well,  only  having  the  tire  worn,  and  a  slight  crack  in  a  crank,  got 
from  going  up  the  fearful  hills  of  the  Jura  country.  Riding  17  full  days  i  too  m.  would  give  6$  m. 
daily  average,  but  70  m.  is  nearer  truth,  as  on  several  days  I  stopped  numy  hours  to  viat  inter- 
esting spots,  while  on  most  I  stopped  up  for  a  little  at  such  places.  I  can  travel  cheaply  abroad 
because  I  'm  as  familiar  with  French  as  with  English,  and  know  some  German  also.  I  avoid 
the  huge  hotels  frequented  by  tourists,  and  am  well  suited  with  a  clean  bed  in  some  little  lo^ng 
house."  The  average  cost  of  this  is  shown  to  be  less  than  30  c.  ^5.50  for  the  19  nights),  and 
the  whole  cost  of  23  days'  absence  from  Glasgow  was  $41,  whereof  $13  went  for  transportation. 
"If  you  are  surprised  at  such  economy,  let  me  say  that  when  only  twenty  years  old  I  Uxk.  a  six 
weeks'  pedestrial  tour  through  France  and  Belgium  which  cost  only  $31." 

*'  Springfield"  seems  appropriate  as  the  birthplace  and  residence  of  the  only  rider  in  Ire- 
land who  has  contributed  to  my  statistics  :    William  Bowles  (b.  Dec.  8,  1850),  a  country  gentle- 
man living  at  Castlemartyr,  so  m.  e.  of  Cork,  and  a  consul  of  the  C.  T.  C.     His  report  to  me 
(July  9,  '85)  reads  thus  :    "  Having  kept  an  accurate  diary  of  my  bicycle  riding  from  the  outset, 
I  can  show  you  a  total  mileage  of  13,303,  divided  by  years  as  follows  :    '75,  343  ;  '76,  1347 ; 
'77,988;  '78.  1965 ;  '79.  871;  '80,  ii3i;  '81,  1134;  '82,  1644;  '83,  M7S;  *84,  1560;  '85  (up  to 
July  9),  865.     You  may  rely  on  the  distances  being  as  accurate  as  it  is  possible  to  make  them. 
Up  to  the  spring  of  '83  I  took  them  from  large-scale  maps,  road  books  and  m.  stones,  and  nnce 
then  I  have  been  using  Stanton's  bi.  log,  which  I  always  found  correct  when  compared  with  m. 
stones  and  Ordnance  Survey  maps.    As  I  cannot  use  a  hub  lamp  with  it,  I  have  lately  got  a 
King-of-the>Road  lamp,  with  Hemu's  cyclom.  attached,  and  I  find  this  perfectly  accurate.     I 
am  sure  you  will  have  difficulty  in  getting  hold  of  another  Irish  bicyclist  who  has  been  riding  for 
10  years  and  has  kept  such  a  diary  as  mine  from  the  very  start.    This  record  gives  the  names 
of  all  the  places  where  I  rode  each  day,  and  includes  the  following  tours  :    '78,  Killamey,  193 
m.  and  Co.  Limerick,  178  m.;  '83,  England,  335  m.;  '83,  Scotland,  417  m.*,  '84,  Connemara  and 
western  highlands  of  Ireland,  488  m.     My  average  rate  of  traveling  on  tours  is  44^  m.  a  day. 
Total  of  separate  roadway  traversed,  about  2250  m.     My  weight  averages  140  lbs.    The  dates 
of  service  of  my  several  machines,  with  mileage,  are  as  follows  :    Sept.   20,  '75,  to  June   13, 
'77, — ^48  in.  Ariel  (Haynes  &  Jeffries,  Coventry),  2083 ;  July  30,  '77,  to  Sept.  35,  '78, — 50  in. 
Stanley  Head  Excelsior  (Bayliss  &  Thomas,  Coventr>'),  3387 ;  Oct.  3,  '78,  to  July  5,  V9» — 54  i«- 
Duplex  Excelsior  (Bayliss  &  Thomas),  663  ;  Sept.  39,  '79*  to  Feb.  36,  '81, — 53  in.  Perfedioa 
(Gorton,  Wolverhampton),  1563;  May  38,  *8i,  to  March   14,  '85, — 53  in.   Interchangeable  (Pal- 
mer &  Co.,  Birminghsun),  5837;  April  6,  to  July  9,  '85, — 53  in.  D.  E.  H.  F.  (Bayliss  ft  Thomas), 
865.     My  longest  distance  ridden  in  a  month  (Aug. ,  '83)  was  543  m.     Longest  in  a  week  (Av^. 
33  to  38,  '84),  resting  on  Sunday  and  riding  only  6  days,  315  m.     Longest  in  6  successive  days, 
Monday  to  Saturday  (Aug.  6  to  11,  '83),  33 1  m.     My  longest  in  a  day  was  85  m.  (Sept.  9,  '78), 
when  I  went  from  Springfield  to  Nenagh,  in  Co.  Tipperary,  x*ia  Lismore,  Cahir,  Cashel,  Holy- 
cross  and  Borrisoleigh.    On  this  ride  I  took  photographs  on  the  way,  carrying  the  apparatus  in 
knapsack,  as  well  as  a  large  m.  iv  p.  bag  filled  with  clothes.     My  longest  recorded  straightaway 
without  dismount  was  x8  m.,  but  I  may  have  ridden  further,  without  being  aware  of  it,  on  other 
occasions."    Post  cards  of  Sept.  a  and  Nov.  33  report  additional  mileage  of  968^  (raising  the 
'8s  record  to  1833^  and  the  total,  for  a  trifle  more  than  10  years,  to  14,170^)1  *nd  I  quote  from 
them  these  final  detoils.    "  Leaving  Springfield  on  the  13th  of  Aug.,  I  wheeled  to  Waterford, 
and  took  steamer  across  to  Milford,  in  Wales.    I  rode  through  South  Wales,  the  midland  coon- 
ties  of  England,  North  Wales  and  back  along  the  w.  coast  of  Wales  to  M.,  where  I  took 
steamer  back  to  W.,  and  rode  home  on  Aug.  39,  a  tour  of  713  m.     I  rode  every  day  except  the 
a  Sundays,  so  that  the  daily  average  was  47J  m.     My  longest  ride  without  dismount  was  from 
Waterford  to  Dungarvan,  38  m.     I  also  rode  387  m.  between  Aug.  17  and  aa,— which  was  66  m. 
more  than  my  best  previous  record  for  6  days.     My  total  mileage  for  Aug.  was  765,— or  223  m. 
more  than  my  longest  previous  month's  record  (Aug.,  '83).     During  Sept.  and  Oct.  I  only  rode 
94}  m.,  which  makes  the  7  months'  mileage  of  my  present  bicycle  1833^  m.     I  never  do  modi 
wheeling  in  the  cold  weather,  but  hope  to  begin  again  next  spring. " 

"The  name  of  Harry  Ktherington  (b.  Aur.  27,  1855)  is  one  known,  and  creditably  known. 


548 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


the  idea  and  labor  of  collecting  and  acknowledging  the  '  Bicyclists*  Indian  Famine  Fond ' 
(;^i39)  were  also  his ;  while  another  proof  of  his  business  aptitude  was  shown  in  the  punctual 
carrying  out  of  last  June's  Temple  races,  in  spite  of  7a  entries,  and  in  the  achievement  (perw 
haps  the  first  time  on  record  in  such  an  affair)  of  a  financial  success.  The  club  testified  their 
appreciation  by  presenting  him  with  a  handsome  watch  and  chain  (valued  at  ;£39),  at  their  re> 
cent  annual  dinner,  when  he  announced  his  retirement  from  active  bicycling  affairs,  to  enter  on 
his  own  account  into  commercial  life."  Repeated  requesu  from  me  catised  him  to  promise 
(Mar.  10,  '85),  "  I  am  just  about  doing  a  young  history  of  my  past  for  your  book  " ;  but  be 
never  really  wrote  it,  and  it  was  not  until  the  end  of  the  year  that  he  even  so  much  as  supplied 
me  with  the  BL  Times  sketch,  accompanying  which  were  a  few  written  details  which  I  nd» 
quote  :  "  In  these  days,  my  riding  is  principally  on  a  Humber  tandem  with  my  wife,  though  I 
sometimes  take  to  the  road  on  a  bike  with  the  boys.  The  sportsman's  exhibition,  annually^eld 
in  Agricultural  Hall,  was  my  idea  and  has  been  managed  for  four  years  as  an  acceptable  feature 
of  the  spring  season.  It  was  in  '80  that  I  started  the  Whetl  World,  with  G.  Lacy  Hillier ;  ran 
it  with  great  success  for  i3  mos.,  then  sold  it  well  to  Iliffe  &  Son,  and  contracted  an  agreement 
to  publish  it  and  the  Cyclist  at  their  offices,  15a  Fleet  St.,  for  the  London  district.  I  did  well  by 
both  journals,  but  in  May,  '84,  dissolved  all  connection  with  the  Iliffes,  and  started  the  weekly. 
Wheeling,  with  VV.  Mac  William.  He  withdrew,  on  friendly  terms,  in  Oct.,  and  I  ran  the  paper 
a'.onctill  Jan.  i,  '85,  when  I  secured,  as  joint  editor,  Tom  Moore,  of  the  Bi.  News."  A  year 
later,  anoth3r  important  change  was  made, — the  editorship  being  entrusted  to  W.  McCandlish 
and  F.^crcy  Low,  in  order  that  the  proprietor  might  devote  all  his  energy  to  its  business  inter- 
ests,— inc  weekly  circulation  being  now  advertised  as  10,000  copies. 

"  The  best  advertising  medium  is  the  Cyclist,  with  a  circulation  of  over  30,000  a>p1e8  per 
month,  or  more  than  3  times  that  of  any  other  wheel  publication."  Such  is  the  statement  of 
the  latest  letter-head  coming  to  me  (Dec. ,  '85)  from  the  Coventry  office  of  that  old-established 
weekly  journal,  whose  sub-title  is  "  bicyc'.ing  and  tricycling  trades*  review,"  and  whose  chief 
appeal  for  support,  if  I  rightly  interpret  its  ideal,  is  addressed  to  the  heavy-respectable  dement, 
— the  more  solid  (not  to  say  stolid)  section  of  the  English  cycling  fraternity.  As  may  be  seen 
by  consulting  my  final  chapter,  "  Literature  of  the  Wheel,"  its  editor,  Henry  Sturroey  (b.  FeU 
aS),  is  author  and  compiler  of  several  standard  hand-books  on  the  subject,  and  I  suppose  he  may 
be  fairly  called  the  most  authoritative  newspaper  writer  in  the  world,  as  regards  the  practical 
mechanics  of  wheeling.  It  pleases  me,  therefore,  to  learn  that  his  thoroughgoing  experience 
with  all  sorts  and  sizes  of  cycles  has  brought  him  to  the  same  conclusion  which  I  myself  (know- 
ing nothing  and  caring  nothing  about  the  relative  mechanical  advantages  of  different  makes) 
reached  by  simply  buying  a  46  in.  bicycle  and  pushing  it  10,000  m.  He  thinks,  as  I  do,  that 
the  only  appreciable  element  of  danger  in  the  case  arises  from  the  vanity  of  mankind,  in  refu»> 
ing  to  seek  comfort  and  security  on  an  ordinary  bicycle  "  which  is  three  or  four  inches  under- 
sizc."  Instead  of  this,  they  are  "continually  clamoring  for  dose-build  and  hi^h-position,  to 
enable  them  to  ride  as  big  wheels  as  they  can  possibly  stretch.  But  it  is  impossible  to  obtain 
either  enjoyment  or  safety  thus,  and,  as  a  consequence,  the  machines  get  the  blame  for  having 
b?en  buih  too  generally  on  pretty  but  unsafe  lines."  My  quotation  is  from  his  summing  up 
(Oct.,  '85)  of  a  long  discussion,  carried  on  by  correspondents  of  the  Cyclist,  as  to  the  compara- 
tive advantapres  of  the  different  types  of  cycles;  and  I  condense  his  final  words  thus :  "  There 
is  no  sing^le  form  of  cyc%  that  will  suit  the  wants  of  every  one,  but  each  particular  type  is  the 
right  thin?  when  in  the  right  place.  As  an  all-weather  vehicle,  the  tri.,  perhaps,  is  best;  and 
for  use  where  parcels  have  to  be  carried,  as  well  as  for  traffic  riding,  it  stands  to  the  fore.  But 
it  is  heavy  and  cumbersome  and  slow,  compared  with  its  conjrires,  and  is  not  by  any  means  so 
free  from  danger  as  some  would  make  it,  though  with  care  it  is  as  safe  as  a  horse  and  trap,  and 
probably  safer.  The  speed  that  has  been  obtained  on  the  road  by  noted  tri.  riders  has  in  some 
cases  surpassed  that  of  riders  on  the  bi..  but  such  riders  in  all  cases  have  been  exceptional  ones, 
with  machines  hiphly  geared  and  very  different  in  weight  from  those  supplied  to  the  ordinaury 
customer.  The  safety  bi.  (so  called)  is  suitable  for  traffic  riding ;  such,  for  instance,  as  short* 
quick  business  calls.     It  is  easily  stowed  away,  and  can  be  ridden  slowly  in  a  crowded  street,  or 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  549 

brought  instantly  to  a  dead  stop.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  majority  of  geared-up  machines, 
the  side-slip  on  greasy  roads  introduces  an  element  of  danger  that  is  totally  absent  from  the  tri. 
and  ordinary  bi.  All  things  considered,  we  believe  that  the  bicycle  proper,  when  sensibly  built, 
is  no  more  dangerous  than  any  other  form  of  velocipede  in  the  hands  of  a  careful  and  experi- 
enced rider ;  and  that  for  general,  what  might  be  termed  light,  riding,  that  is,  without  luggage. 
It  will  never  be  wrested  from  popular  favor." 

Of  course,  whoever  attempts  to  deliver  an  opinion  as  an  expert  on  a  subject  where  so  many 
competing  business-interests  are  concerned  must  expect  to  have  his  impartiality  called  in  ques- 
tion by  those  to  whom  his  opinion  is  unfavorable.  I  do  not  pretend  to  say  that  this  writer  is 
never  unfair  or  ill-informed, — for  his  specialty  is  one  whereof  I  am  profoundly  ignorant.  I 
only  insist  that,  as  a  specialist,  his  opinion  is,  in  so  far  forth,  worthy  of  respect ;  and  that  I  am 
not  aware  of  the  existence  of  any  other  writer  who  appears  to  be  so  well-equipped  for  this  par- 
ticular sort  of  instruction,  or  to  labor  under  stronger  obligations  for  imparting  it  honestly  to 
the  public.  At  the  same  time,  there  seems  justice  in  the  censure  which  has  been  pronounced 
against  him  for  ignoring  the  American  Star, — ^the  type  of  safety  bi.  which  has  incomparably  the 
widest  acceptance  in  this  country, — since,  as  a  distinctively  Yankee  notion,  it  deserves  extended 
trial  and  description  at  the  hands  of  any  one  who  professes  to  treat  exhaustively  of  wheeling 
mechanisms.  Mr.  S.  was  one  of  my  earliest  subscribers  in  England ;  and  his  expressions  of 
friendly  interest  in  my  scheme,  both  by  printed  parag^phs  in  the  Cyclist  and  by  private  letters, 
did  much  to  encourage  me  in  the  belief  that  it  might  be  so  shaped  as  to  command  some  degree 
t>f  attention  in  that  country.  I  am  told  that  he  was  a  schoolmaster  before  the  days  of  cycling 
journalism,  and  I  regret  my  inability  to  wheedle  from  him  more  biographical  details  than  these 
few  contained  in  his  letter  to  me  of  Mar.  19,  '84  :  "  We  have  no  authentic  account  of  men  who 
tiave  ridden  io,ocx}  m.  in  England,  but  I  do  not  think  there  can  be  less  than  5000  or  10,000  of 
them,  and  their  number  is  probably  very  much  larger.  I  send  you  herewith  a  copy  of  our  last 
two  tabulated  lists,  containing  the  records  of  men  who  have  ridden  100  m.  within  the  day,  up  to 
Dec,  '81,  and  I  hope  to  publish  the  records  for  the  past  two  seasons  in  a  few  weeks.  I  cannot 
give  you  any  information  concerning  the  largest  number  of  separate  m.  of  roadway  covered  by 
any  individual  rider,  neither  can  I  say  who  has  ridden  the  longest  straightaway  distances  in 
Great  Britain,  beyond  the  3  or  4  riders  from  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's  and  vice  versa.  I 
should  say  the  longest  straightaway  tour  taken  in  Europe  must  be  that  of  A.  M.  Bolton,  who 
has  published  his  experience  in  a  book  entitled  '  Over  the  Pyrenees  * ;  though  there  may  very 
likely  be  several  riders  who  have  exceeded  his  distances,  yet  kept  their  light  under  a  bushel. 
With  regard  to  my  own  riding,  I  usually  cover  about  1000  m.  in  the  course  of  business ;  and,  as 
I  have  but  little  time,  and  do  not  care  to  ride  on  Sundays,  my  score  is  not  great ;  but  I  reckon 
to  cover  about  3000  m.  yearly,  and  think  I  have  done  this  for  the  past  8  years,  which  would  give 
about  23,000  to  34,000  m.  as  my  sum  total,  without  counting  the  earlier  days  of  the  sport,  when 
I  did  little  more  than  potter  about,  around  the  home  district.  I  think  many  of  our  older  riders 
have  covered  considerably  more  than  50,000  m." 

The  full-length  engraving  of  a  helmeted  bicycler,  equipped  for  a  tour,  which  is  impressed 
upon  the  paper  cover  of  "  Over  the  Pyrenees,"  is  said  to  be  a  fairly  recognizable  likeness  of  the 
author,  Alfred  M.  Bolton,  who  was  bom,  my  informant  added,  not  earlier  than  1864.  Mr.  6.*s 
own  letter  to  me  (Apr.  24,  '84)  reads  thus  :  "  To  save  my  life,  I  could  n*t  answer  your  questions, 
as  I  've  never  kept  a  record  of  the  required  facts.  I  began  bicycling  about  8  years  ago,  and 
have  ridden  about  1 1  different  machines,  but  I  cannot  say  what  my  total  mileage  may  be.  As 
my  holidays  are  limited,  I  never  made  a  tour  of  more  than  800  m.;  though,  besides  visiting  most 
parts  of  England  and  a  portion  of  Scotland,  I  have  traveled  by  bicycle  in  France,  Germany, 
Holland,  Belgium,  Switzerland,  Spain,  ftaly,  Norway  and  Sweden.  I  send  herewith  a  copy  of 
'  Over  the  Pyrenees  :  a  bicyclist's  adventures  among  the  Spaniards,'  which  was  issued  some  time 
nnce  and  sold  well.  I  have  also  published,  as  a  weekly  supplement  to  the  Bi.  Netvs,  *  The 
Hocky  North,  a  summer's  holiday  among  the  fjelds,  fjords  and  fosses  of  Norway,  including  a 
dash  through  Sweden,'  and  there  will  soon  appear,  in  a  similar  manner,  '  My  Pilgrimage  to 
Rome,  or  three  weeks  among  the  Italians.'  "    Not  unlike  the  foregoing  for  indefiniteness,  was 


TISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


fresh  and  nudE  no  dElaj,  aod  during  ihe  laH  h.  of  the  14  he  lode  3i{k., 
^4  I1,  (365}  m,)  and  bealiog  by  15  k.  Ihe  best  prrviaui  French  record,  which 
uDtiDued  00,  and,  though  Ihe  roads  were  in  an  awful  Aale,  cnmpkctcd  the 
n.    He  rode  a  Crinnr  Kmi-nnr  (so  JIk,  Mairion  &  Oioper),  the  ume  on 

lluiioii  10  bim  (Bi.  Wrrld,  Aug.  11,  'S4) :    "  F.  Rouuct'i  Iri.  nconl  of  iSS  k. 

lecs  beaten  bj  Daniel  ("Baby"),  ot  Fau,  nbo  rodt  a  rear  double-diivn  tri. 

1  m.)  July  16."    With  Ibii  may  b«  compared  nhal  ii  laid  to  be  <  Wkal,  Un.  S. 

I.  ride  in  Holland  :    "  Emil  Kiderlen,  ol  nelfibaven,  a  village  near  Ronerdam, 

"Cycle  trom  R.  to  Lmawiirfen,  in  11  h.  jj  inin,,  inclmive  of  sioppagea,  the  di»- 

letcr  being  115  m,"    Similarly,  a  floating  paragraph  of  Dec.  ^85,  accreditfl  the 

Umnany  to  "  M.  Sotet  Kohont,  of  the  Cesky  Klub  Velociptdijn,  «ho  recfnily 

inaifh.  aclual  riding  time." 

iidoD  Seoltilh  B.  Q  it  to  be  accredited  with  yet  Inolbei  long  distance  Jnumey  " 

ct,  11,  '8)1,  "  for  J.  E,  Rohinsan  Tagart,  oi  Facile  fame,  ahose  aggregate  for  the 

rs  is  over  7500  m,,  on  Thursday  last  covered  at  Icut  aij  m-  in  14  h-    Leaving 

-Corner  at  midnight,  he  wbeeled  tbrough  St.  Albans,  1-jo  A.  M.,  Ampfhill,  4.ts  a-  h- 

pondm),  Leicester,   10  a.  «.,    Nottingbam,   1.4s  r.  m.,  Granlbam,  4.50  f.  K.,  Nor- 

-,  8.J0  r.  «,,  Akonbnry,  10.1J    P.   u.,   and  hack  10  Norman's  Cross."     ffinlaig'i 

>r  riders  of  the  Fadle  in  'S4,"  were  awarded  thus, — the  numerals  signifyitig  day'i 

J.  H.Adams,  iMliOcL  4.  record  for  14  h.);  P.A.Nii,a)4;   E.  Oibormw,  134; 

Jehean,>i4:  C.LlaTd,]oi>l:  H.  Crook,  looi;  S.W.  Reynolds.  106;  W.  Browi..  106! 

Uoyd,  aoolt  B.Callander,  soot!  H.  R.  Goodivin,  164!  R.  W.  McDonald,  rbi;  A. 

a;  F,  W.  Guecney,  ijj.    Additional  gold  medali  were  aurarded  for  these  three  tvtcai 

iMCa :  J.  H.  Aduni,  Lind'i  End  id  John  O'Groat'i  (about  91J  m.,  in  ;  days,  lackmg  ] 

.  R.  Goodwia,  ijji  m.  in  14)  diyi  (p.  536);  E.  Olborrow,  loom.  injb.  ji  min.     From 

■MtQm.  », '86),  I  il»eitract  some  staiistlci  about  Ihe  Anfield  B.  C.,af  Liverpool. 

ofiered  priios  valued  at  f  joo  for  the  promotkin  of  long-diataace  rides  in  '8;,  with  the  re- 

iH  Jo  ol  its  JO]  member!  nmde  day's  rum  ol  nxrre  than  iod  m.,  and  n  o[  them  exceeded 


ricyde),  i8it;  W. 
Cook,  ts6j  J.  P. 
■  Ml  W.  M.  Ker- 


550 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


the  report  sent  me  Aug.  34,  '85,  by  Charles  Howard  (b.  Dec.,  1851),  whom  I  naturally  expected, 
as  the  author  of  a  standard  statistical  work  on  English  roads,  to  be  possessed  of  an  elaborate 
wheeling  biography,  ready  at  hand  :  "  Strange  as  you  may  think  it,  I  've  never  kept  an  account 
of  my  riding,  which  b^;an  about  '73.  I  presume  it  would  average  about  2000  m.  a  year, — say  a 
total  of  2a,ooo, — ^but  I  should  not  put  my  separate  roadway  as  more  than  6000  m.,  or  even  5000 
m.  My  brother  Alfred  has  a  larger  separate  milea^^e  than  mine.  I  know  a  good  portion  of 
the  roads  in  the  midland  counties  as  far  as  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire,  and  the  western  and 
southwestern  as  far  as  Wilts  and  Dorset.  Surrey  I  know  well,  both  main  roads  and  by-roads ; 
and  I  have  ridden  over  the  greater  part  of  Kent  and  Sussex.  I  prefer,  as  a  rule,  to  leave  the 
beaten  track  and  explore  outrof-the-way  comers,— never  being  deterred  by  a  bit  of  bad  road, 
necessitating  the  use  of  shanks's  pony.  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  boneshaker  in  '69  or 
'70,  and  remember  I  was  ambitious  to  have  one,  for  the  purpose  of  riding  to  and  from  school 
(some  20  m.  from  Manchester)  at  the  end  of  each  week ;  but  as  the  roads  there  are  unfavorable, 
I  afterwards  abandoned  the  notion.  As  regards  my  books,  'The  Roads  of  England  and 
Wales '  was  published  in  '82,  ist  ed.  in  June  at  3s.  6d.;  2d  ed.  in  Aug.  at  5s.,  which  has  been 
the  price  ever  since,  except  that  writh  map  it  is  6s.  Third  ed.  appeared  in  May,  '83,  and  4th 
ed.  in  May,  '84.  The  pages  have  remained  the  same  in  number  (423),  although  some  considera- 
ble corrections  have  been  introduced.  Part  I.  of  '  The  Route  Book'  was  published  about 
April,  '85.  It  comprises  southern  England  (south  of  Loudon  and  Bristol)  and  sells  at  la.  The 
other  two  parts  will  be  ready  early  in '86.  Part  II.  shows  middle  England  and  Wales,  and 
Part  III.  northern  England.  I  am  now  engaged  in  writing  and  passing  through  the  press  a 
'Cyclist's  Itinerary  of  Scotland,'  which  will  be  published  at  is.  and  contain  about  200  pp. 
One  feature  of  it  will  be  the  heights  of  the  road  at  various  points,  to  show  the  gradients." 

Robert  Edward  Phillips  (b.  July  30,  1855),  consulting  engineer  and  patent  agent,  at  Roj^al 
Courts  Chambers,  70,  71  and  72  Chancery  Lane,  thus  reports  to  me,  Sept.  16,  '85  :  "  I  w^ 
elected  a  graduate  of  the  Institution  of  Mechanical  Engineers  in  '79  and  a  member  of  the  same 
in  '83.  I  commenced  with  the  bicycle  in  '72  and  have  ridden  consistently  ever  since,  but  have 
never  kept  statistics  of  mileage.  I  can  safely  be  put  at  not  less  than  xooo  m.  a  year,  and  I  have 
traveled  over  the  greater  part  of  England  and  the  north  of  the  continent.  In  business,  I  devote 
myself  particularly  to  cycling  patents,  for  I  have  made  the  construction  of  machines  a  special 
study,  and  am  now  considered  a  leading  authority  on  these  matters.  My  first  work  was  a  table 
giving  description  of  every  existing  machine  in  the  market,  published  in  the  '  Bicyclist's  Pocket 
Book  of  '79.'  In  '80,  this  was  enlarged  into  a  pamphlet  entitled  'The  Bicyclist's  Guide  to 
Machines  and  Makers.'  In  '81,  I  published  '  The  Cyclist's  Pocket  Road  Guides,'  which  have 
proved  very  popular,  being  now  in  their  3d  ed.  The  year  '82  saw  the  publication  of  my 
pamphlet, '  Things  a  Cyclist  Ought  to  Know,'  which  has  had  an  unparalleled  circulation,  for  I 
am  now  selling  the  4th  ed.  (25th  thousand).  The  price  of  this  is  only  a  penny,  and  it  could  not  be 
produced  at  that  low  rate  except  for  the  advertisements.  Let  me  assure  you  that  no  cycling 
book  in  England  can  pay  on  its  circulation  alone.  I  've  acted  as  my  own  publisher  for  these  lit- 
tle works  because  I  could  find  no  one  else  enterprising  enough  to  undertake  them.  At  present, 
I  am  preparing  for  the  press  a  'Complete  Abridgment  of  all  Specificationa  relating  to  Veloci- 
pedes,' from  the  earliest  enrolled  to  the  end  of  '83.  This  will  be  completely  indexed,  and  will 
prove  invaluable  to  all  connected  with  the  trade.  Besides,  I  have  written  and  read  a  paper  be- 
fore the  Institution  of  Mechanical  Engineers  on  '  The  Construction  of  Modem  Cycles,*  whidi 
has  been  pronounced  to  be  a  most  exhaustive  article.  I  have  invented  and  patented  several  im- 
provements in  cycles,  which  are  largely  used  in  this  country,  such  as  the  combination  mbber  and 
rat-trap  pedal,  the  long  centered  Stanley  head,  the  safety  grip  pedal,  the  present  method  of  sus- 
pending hub  lamps  on  self-contained  bearings,  the  «orabination  bell,  and  the  handy  luggage 
carrier.  I  have  been  a  member  of  the  C.  T.  C.  and  of  the  N.  C.  U.  from  their  eariy 
dates  and  sit  on  the  council  of  each."  A  November  circular  from  Iliffe  &  Son  explains  that 
they  are  to  publish  Mr.  P.'s  book  on  patents  as  soon  as  100  subscriptions  are  enrolled  at  ;Ci  is-t 
that  the  price  will  afterwards  be  advanced,  and  that  "  no  advertisements  will  be  admitted  to  it." 

Geo.  Soudon  Bridgman  (b.  Feb.  14,  1839),  architect  and  surveyor  at  Paignton,  writes  to  roe. 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


551 


Sept.  6,  '85  :  "  I  am  oiie  of  the  very  earliest  riders  here,  haying  imported  a  bone<«haker  from 
Paris,  15  or  16  years  since,  and  I  hope  to  ride  the  bi.,  if  all  goes'well,  until  I  am  50  at  least. 
Last  year,  I  took  a  900  m.  tour  on  this  little  island ;  and  last  month  I  again  went  off  some 
hundred  m.,  on  a  tandem,  with  my  son ;  and  the  enjoyment  is  still  on  the  increase."  Another 
subscriber,  S.  Colder,  of  Coventry,  sends  me  this  incident :  '*  On  a  rainy  Sunday,  in  July,  '81, 
when  I  rode  from  Brixton  homeward,  1x2  m.,  my  58  in.  had  3  spokes  out  of  the  front  wheel  at 
starting,  and  3  more  came  out  before  the  journey's  end,  yet  all  the  rest  were  tight  and  the  wheel 
true,  and  showed  no  signs  of  gi^ng  way.  I  have  several  times  ridden  more  than  100  m.  in  a 
day  of  la  or  13  h.,  and,  a  while  ago,  I  did  some  long  distances  without  dismount ;  but  I  cannot 
just  now  put  hands  on  the  papers  containing  the  details."  To  this  I  add  the  memorandum  of 
what  a  young  New  Yorker,  Ceo.  Thaddeus  Stevens  (b.  Apr.  34,  1865),  told  roe  concerning  a 
private  race  of  xoo  m.,  Bath  to  London  (Hammersmith),  in  which  he  competed  with  two  En- 
glish acquaintances,  June  27,  '84,  riding  a  44  in.  Humber  tri.,  geared  to  60  in.  and  weighing  44 
lbs.  The  race  was  won  in  io|  h.,he  himself  doing  the  zoo  m.  in  11  h.,  ending  at  6  p.  m., 
though  he  rode  ta  m.  before  the  start  and  15  m.  to  Surbiton  afterwards,  making  127  for  the  day. 
His  stops  amounted  to  about  i  h.,  and  his  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  was  35  m.,  though  he  had 
kept  it  for  36  m.  on  another  occasion. 

Though  my  own  straightaway  ride  of  1400  m.  in  '83  (pp.  294-350)  was  known  to  me  at  the 
time  as  being  twice  or  thrice  the  length  of  any  previotis  performance  of  the  sort  in  America,  I 
had  no  suspicion  of  its  being  a  "  world's  record,"  until  my  correspondence  with  the  best-in- 
formed long-distance  men  of  England  (whom  I  asked  to  secure  for  me  details  of  the  longer 
tours  that  I  assumed  had  been  taken  in  Europe)  gave  united  testimony,  which  I  have  printed  in 
this  chapter,  that  no  continuous  trail  so  long  as  mine  had  ever  been  heard  of  there.  The  near- 
est suggestion  to  anything  of  the  sort  which  the  most  diligent  efforts  on  my  part  have  been  able 
to  unearth,  was  contained  in  the  following  paragraph,  cut  for  me  by  a  friend  from  an  American 
newspaper  of  '83,  which  accredited  it  to  a  London  literary  weekly,  the  Examiner :  *'  The  value 
of  the  velocipede  or  bicycle  as  a  means  of  personal  transport  has  been  well  shown  by  the  ride 
acToas  Europe  of  Ivan  Zmertych,  who  left  London  on  the  7th  or  8th  of  June  and  rode  to  Dover. 
From  Ostend  he  started  on  the  loth,  and,  after  a  journey  of  1500  m.,  over  bad  roads  in  Belgium 
and  good  roads  in  Cermany,  he  reached  Pesth  on  the  30th.  Thus  he  accomplished  about  80  m. 
each  day,  in  spite  of  some  wet  weather  and  without  any  mishap  to  himself  or  bicycle."  Having 
besought  the  good  offices  of  "  Faed,"  to  search  the  files  of  the  cycling  press  for  some  further 
particulars  of  the  case,  I  received  this  reply,  Dec.  14,  '85  :  **  I  have  been  unable  to  trace  any 
details  of  the  ride  you  enquire  about ;  but  the  London  editor  of  the  Cyclist,  C.  W.  Nairn,  tells 
me  that  the  rider  was  a  young  Magyar,  temporarily  residing  in  London,  and  at  the  time  a  mem- 
ber of  one  of  our  southern  suburban  clubs.  I  should  think  that  you  might  safely  ignore  the 
item  altogether,  as  at  that  period  tourists  often  took  the  train  without  mentioning  it,  and  the  dis- 
tance is  not  at  all  well  authenticated."  My  letter  of  enquiry,  which  I  forwarded  to  Pesth  (Nov. 
16,  directed  to  Mr.  Z.,  "or  to  any  officer  of  the  bicycle  club  "),  finally  reached  the  hands  of  L. 
D.  Kostovitz,  C.  T.  C.  consul  of  Budapest  (p.  481),  who  happened  to  know  of  him  as  residing 
at  Pressburg,  and  who  duly  sent  the  letter  thither,  notifying  me  of  the  fact,  Dec.  10.  There- 
upon, Dec.  28,  I  sent  a  second  appeal  to  Mr.  Z.,  at  Pressburg,  asking  for  at  least  a  post  card,  to 
confirm  or  to  correct  the  newspaper  statement,  and  to  inform  me  whether  the  trail  were  continu- 
ous ;  but  no  response  has  yet  arrived  (Feb.  10). 

Better  success  attended  my  efforts  to  reach  the  root  of  a  story,  widely  copied  in  the  autumn 
of  *84,  and  accredited  to  the  Hamburg  Netus^  which  said  :  "  Hugo  Barthol,  a  native  of  Saxony, 
recently  completed  a  bicjrcle  journey  of  2800  m.  in  11  weeks.  He  rode  from  Cera  to  Naples,  go- 
ing down  the  w.  coast  of  Italy  and  covering  the  whole  length  of  the  e.  coast  on  his  return.  He 
twice  accomplished  the  difficult  task  of  crossing  the  Apennines.  He  remained  from  3  to  6  days 
in  the  larger  cities.  The  feat  is  the  most  remarkable  on  record."  The  implication  of  the 
paragraph  is  that  the  tourist  made  a  continuous  circuit,  whereas  he  in  fact  resorted  thrice  to 
trains  awd  once  to  steamer, — his  whole  distance  by  wheel  being  3799  kilometers ;  by  rail,  630  k., — 
a  total  of  4429  k.,  or  2750  m.    His  bicycle  trail  seems  to  have  been  unbroken  from  Gera  to 


552         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Naples,  and  was  thus  probably  the  longest  straightaway  laid  down  in  Europe  until  Thomas 
Stevens  marked  a  much  longer  one,  Dieppe  to  Constantinople,  is  the  early  summer  of  '85  (p.  480). 
Stevens's  previous  trail  of  3700  m.  across  America  was  completed  at  Boston  on  the  very  day 
when  Barthol  was  forced  to  take  train  alongside  the  Adriatic  His  tour  as  a  whole  ranked  "*>»» 
to  that  of  Stevens  for  more  than  a  year ;  and  it  still  ranks  as  the  third  longest  known  to  my 
record,— the  second  place  having  been  held,  since  Oct.,  '85,  by  the  3000  m.  ride  of  Hugh  J4 
High  (p.  484).  I  am  indebted  to  the  C.  T.  C.  consul  at  Berlin,  T.  H.  S.  Walker  (editor  of  the 
fortnightly  Rttd/akrer,  18  Krausen  sL,  W.),  for  the  following  abstract  of  the  manuscript  report 
which  Mr.  B.,  who  is  an  acquaintance  of  his,  sent  in  at  my  request  (June  a,  '85),  though  it  was 
not  published  in  his  paper.  "  He  first  conceived  the  idea  of  riding  to  Italy  after  making  a  trip 
through  Germany  and  Holland  (May  z  to  June  14,  '82),  but  could  not  carry  it  out  until  2  yrs.  later. 
As  an  ordinary  m.  i.  p.  bag  did  not  suffice  to  hold  enough  things  for  a  xa  weeks'  trip,  he  also  car< 
ried  a  bundle  on  the  handle-bar,  the  weight  of  both  being  38  lbs.  He  rode  a  56  in.  Howe,  weig^« 
ing  45  lbs.,  and  his  own  weight  was  151,  making  a  total  of  324.  He  left  Gera  at  6  a.  m.  on  the  8th 
of  June,  and  rode  as  far  as  Auma.  The  night's  resting-places  after  that  were  as  follows  :  9th, 
Saalfeld;  loth,  Meiningen;  nth,  Fulda;  12th,  Frankfort;  13th,  Mainz;  (14th,  visited  Nieder- 
wall  monument);  15th,  Mannheim;  i8th,  Strasbourg  (vMt  Heidelbeig and  Speier) ;  aoth,  Frei* 
bouxg;  22d,  Basle;  23d,  SchafiRiausen ;  24th,  Constance ;  25th,  Zurich.  He  found  all  the 
roads  very  good  in  Switzerland,  and  at  Z.  he  met  a  friend,  whom  he  persuaded  to  accompany 
him  to  Italy.  After  a  short  stay  at  Z.,  they  rode  over  the  St.  Gothard,  arriving  on  the  29th  at 
Airolo ;  30th  at  Bronico ;  and  July  ist  at  Milan,  which  they  left  on  3d,  and  reached  Turin  on 
the  4th.  They  rode  over  high  mountain  ridges  (6th  and  7th)  to  Genoa ;  left  on  9th,  via  Spesia 
and  Pisa,  reaching  Florence  on  lath ;  left  on  x6th,  and  after  hard  ride  got  to  Rome  on  the  20th. 
This  was  a  stretch  where  there  were  many  steep  hills  and  where  no  water  was  to  be  had  for  dis. 
tances  of  20  m.  Under  intense  heat,  they  found  great  relief  by  wearing  wet  cloths  on  their 
heads.  After  a  day's  rest,  they  rode  over  the  Albanian  Hills  and  were  obliged,  one  night,  to 
encamp  in  the  midst  of  the  Pontine  marshes.  On  the  26th  they  reached  Capua  at  xo  a.  m.;  on 
the  27th  rode  into  Naples,  the  objective  point  of  the  tour.  Six  days  were  qwnt  in  visiting  the 
islands  of  Sochia  and  Capri,  also  Pompeii  and  Vesuvius.  Then,  Aug.  3,  they  rode  to  Grotto 
and  caused  here  such  excitement  that  1000  people  collected  around  the  house  they  stopped  at. 
Foggio  was  reached  on  the  3d,  and  they  then  took  the  wrong  track  and  got  to  Serra  Capriola,  on 
the  Adriatic,  where,  as  the  road  came  to  an  end,  they  had  to  take  train  to  Peacara.  TheiKX 
they  wheeled  along  the  coast  to  Ancona,  7th;  Rimini,  9th;  and  Bologna,  xxth;  taking  train 
there  for  Venice,  on  account  of  exhaustion  from  the  intense  heat,  although  their  riding  had 
mostly  been  done  by  night.  Here  B.'s  friend  left  him,  and  he  himself  on  the  i6th  took  steamer 
to  Trieste.  On  the  X7th,  he  rode  to  Miramarc  and  back,  and  on  the  z8th  left  T.  for  a  6  days'  ride 
throt^h  Karrthia,  Stiermark  and  over  the  Semmering  to  Vienna,  on  the  23d.  Thence  00  the 
28th,  because  of  bad  weather,  he  took  train  to  Prague.  He  rode  over  the  En  mountains  to 
Chemnitz  (Germany)  on  the  30th,  and  arrived  at  his  home  in  Ronneburg  near  Gera,  cm  the  31st 
at  5  p.  M.  He  afterwatrds  suffered  severely  from  intermittent  fever."  The  accompanying  photo* 
graph  (from  Oscar  Vogel  in  Ronneburg)  shows  a  beardless  3routh,  in  eyeglasses,  standing  beside 
a  mud  bespattered  bi.,  which  b  loaded  down  fore  and  aft,  with  big,  uz^inly  bags.  He  wears  a 
round  hat,  apparently  of  felt,  surmounting  a  handkerchief,  which  extends  over  his  head  and  neck, 
and  his  riding  jacket  looks  very  much  like  a  peasant's  frock. 

A  vague  paragraph  which  was  afloat  in  the  American  papers  of  Sept.,  '85,  said  that  ''a 
Frenchman  named  Guy  has  recently  accomplished  a  3  weeks'  trip  of  1400  m.  on  his  bicycle,  his 
aver^;e  rate  being  80  m.  a  day."  More  definite  than  this  was  the  Cyelisfs  report  (July  8,  '85,  p. 
933)  of  the  "  magnificent  performance  "  of  P.  Rousaet  (b.  1835),  of  Bordeaux,  president  of  the 
V^loce  Club  Bordelais,  who  "started  at  6  a.  m.,  June  28,  to  accomplish  400  kilom.  (300  m.)  in  aS 
h.  The  previous  day's  rain  had  made  the  road  very  wet  and  heavy  as  far  as  Castres.  F.  De 
Civry  and  H.  O.  Duncan  accompanied  him  from  Laprade  to  Marmande,  and  there  awaited  his 
return.  A  little  beyond  M.,  he  was  delayed  4  h.  in  getting  his  tri.  carted  across  a  flooded  road, 
but  the  surface  then  improved,  and  he  reached  the  turning  point  (aoo  k.)  well  inside  time.    The 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


553 


night  was  calm,  and  the  moon  made  the  path  as  clear  as  day.  On  getting  back  to  M.,  about  4 
o'clock,  he  appeau^  fresh  and  made  no  delay,  and  during  the  last  h.  of  the  24  he  rode  zt\  k., 
making  a  total  of  354  k.  (265I  m.)  and  beating  by  15  k.  the  best  previous  French  record,  which 
was  his  own.  He  continued  on,  and,  though  the  roads  were  in  an  awful  state,  completed  the 
400  k.  in  aS  h.  x  min.  He  rode  a  Cripper  semi-racer  (50  lbs.,  Marriott  &  Cooper),  the  same  on 
which  De  Civry  won  the  championship  of  France,  the  previous  Sunday.  His  performance 
seems  the  more  astonishing,  because  of  his  being  almost  50  years  old  and  somewhat  stout."  I 
insert  an  earlier  allusion  to  him  {fiu  Worlds  Aug.  as,  '84) :  "  P.  Rousset's  tri.  record  of  a88  k. 
in  24  h.  has  now  been  beaten  by  Daniel  ("  Baby  "),  of  Pau,  who  rode  a  rear  double-driver  tri. 
305  k.  (about  189I  m.)  July  x6."  With  this  may  be  compared  what  is  said  to  be  {Whtel^  Jan.  8, 
*86)  the  best  24  h.  ride  in  Holland  :  "  Emil  Kiderlen,  of  Delfshaven,  a  village  near  Rotterdam, 
recently  rode  a  bicycle  from  R.  to  Leeuwarden,  in  as  h.  35  min.,  inclusive  of  stoppages,  the  dis- 
tance by  cyclometer  being  215  m."  Similarly,  a  floating  paragraph  of  Dec.,  '85,  accredits  the 
24  h.  record  of  Germany  to  "  M.  Josee  Kohont,  of  the  Cesky  KJub  Velocipedists,  who  recently 
covered  248  m.  in  ai^  h.  actual  riding  time.'* 

*'  The  London  Scottish  B.  C.  is  to  be  accredited  with  yet  another  long  distance  )oumey  " 
{.WhetltMgt  Oct.  22,  '85),  "  for  J.  £.  Robinson  Tagart,  of  Facile  fame,  whose  aggregate  for  the 
year  up  to  date  is  over  7500  m.,  on  Thursday  last  covered  at  least  225  m.  in  24  h.  Leaving 
Hyde  Park  Comer  at  midnight,  he  wheeled  through  St.  Albans,  2.10  a.  m.,  AmpChill,  4. 15  a.  m. 
{fell  in  Harpenden),  Leicester,  10  a.  m.,  Nottingham,  1.45  p.  m.,  Grantham,  4.50  p.  m.,  Nor- 
man's Cross,  8.30  p.  M.,  Alconbury,  xo.15  p.  m.,  and  back  to  Nonnan's  Cross."  Whetling^s 
"  medals  for  riders  of  the  Facile  in  '84,"  were  awarded  thus, — the  numerals  signifying  day's 
mileage  :  J.  H.  Adams,  266^  (Oct.  4,  record  for  24  h.);  P.  A.  Nix,  234;  £.  Oxborrow,  234; 
A.  P.  Engleheart,  224;  C.  Lloyd,  aoo| ;  H.  Crook,  300^ ;  S.W.  Reynolds,  206;  W.  Brown,  206 ; 
W.  £.  H.  Lloyd,  2oo| ;  B.  Callander,  ioo\ ;  H.  R.  Goodwin,  164;  R.  W.  McDonald,  163 ;  A. 
Pean,  150 ;  F.  W.  Guemey,  153.  Additional  gold  medals  were  awarded  for  these  three  special 
performances  ;  J.  H.  Adams,  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's  (about  925  m.,  in  7  days,  lacking  \ 
h.);  H.  R.  Goodwin,  1332  m.  in  14^  days  (p.  536) ;  E.  Oxborrow,  100  m.  in  7  h.  31  min.  From 
Wheeling  {}9xi.  20,  '86),  I  also  extract  some  statistics  about  the  Anfield  B.  C,  of  Liverpool, 
which  offered  prizes  valued  at  $300  for  the  promotion  of  long-distance  rides  in  '85,  with  the  re- 
sult that  so  of  its  205  members  made  day's  runs  of  more  than  100  m.,  and  25  of  them  exceeded 
150  m.  in  the  24  h.,  as  shown  by  this  list  of  mileages  :  G.  P.  Mills',  260,  252,  232,  208,  180,  and 
(tricycle)  aoif;  G.  B.  Mercer,  228^,  212,  208,  and  207;  Lawrence  Fletcher  (tricycle),  2ii|  and 
175 ;  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's,  8  days  5  h.  20  min.  (beating  record) ;  Land's  End  to  Gretna 
Green,  500  m.  in  4  days ;  N.  Crooke,  209  and  202 ;  F.  W.  Mayor,  207 ;  D.  J.  Bell,  205 ;  A.  R. 
Fell,  205  and  201^,  Liverpool  to  London,  London  to  Liverpool — ^both  within  24  h.;  H.  Fraser, 
20s  (100  m.  Kangaroo  race,  7  h.  6  min.  25  sec.) ;  H.  M.  Walker,  205 ;  E.  Harrison,  204 ;  H. 
Russell,  303;  J.  K.  Conway,  2oa;  J.  B.  Beazley,  198^;  A.  H.  Fletcher  (tricycle),  181^;  W. 
Downes  Mills  (tricyde),  156;  A.  Barrow,  153;  T.  B.  Conway,  153;  J.  H.  Cook,  156;  J.  P. 
Fletcher,  152;  A.  W.  Gamble,  152;  T.  S.  Hughes,  170;  E.  A.  Thompson,  154;  W.  M.  Ker- 
row,  154;  F.  A.  Waring,  154;  R.  Fair,  )r.,  173.  The  largest  scores  were  as  follows  :  Law- 
rence Fletcher,  6027 ;  G.  P.  Mills,  5270;  H.  Fraser,  5030;  N.  Crooke,  4500;  G.  B.  Mereer, 
4385 ;  D.  J.  Bell,  3543 ;  A.  W.  Gamble,  3535 ;  D.  R.  Fell,  3500.  The  annual  24  h.  road-ride 
to  Weedon  and  back  was  won  by  G.  P.  Mills  with  260  m.;  G.  B.  Mereer  being  second,  with  212 
ro.  in  21  h.  The  club  will  offer  the  following  prizes  for  '86  :  A  gold  medal  for  250  m.  on  a  bi. 
or  tandem  tri.,  225  m.  on  a  tri. ;  a  gold  star  for  aoo  m.  on  a  bi.  or  tandem  tri.;  or  175  m.  on  a 
tri.;  a  gold-centered  medal  for  150  m.  on  any  class  of  cycle ;  a.  silver  star  for  xoo  m.  on  any  dass 
of  cycle ;  a  gold  medal  for  the  longest  distance  ridden  in  34  h.  during  the  year ;  three  prizes  for 
attendance  at  runs ;  four  prizes  (total  value,  ao  guineas)  for  the  greatest  number  of  points  gained, 
imder  the  rules,  for  long-distance  riding ;  special  gold  medals  for  beating  road  records. 

The  best  record  for  swiftness  from  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's  was  latest  taken  on  a  tri. ,  by 
T.  R.  Marriott,  Sept.  21-27,  '85> — ^^  distance  being  898  m.  and  the  time  6  days  15  h.  22  min. 
Hb  photograph  forms  the  frontispiece  of  a  98  page  book  descriptive  of  this,  written  by  Tom 


554 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Moore,  ex-editor  of  WhnUttgy  and  published  at  the  office  of  that  paper  (Feb.  so,  '86;  price  6d.). 
I  hope  it  may  contain  a  complete  list  of  the  other  rides  over  the  same  course,  for  the  ttatintiCT  I 
now  give  are  imperfect  The  swiftest  bi.  ride  b  accredited  to  James  Lennox  (J.  CG.  to  L.  £.), 
of  Dumfries,  6  days  i6  h.  7  min.,  starting  June  29,  '85,  but  I  have  no  reoord  of  his  earlier 
trials.  H^ketUmg  of  Sept.  3,  '84,  printed  the  halting  places  and  mileages  of  two  riders  thus : 
"  H.  J.  Webb,  on  a  Humber  tri.,  starting  Aug.  17,  reached  Exeter,  133! ;  Gloucester,  333!; 
Shrewsbury,  320} ;  Lancaster,  4a8f ;  Carlisle,  497} ;  Edinbuigh,  588} ;  John  O'Groat's,  898I. 
Not  satisfied  with  this  grand  performance,  he  turned  baick,  and  eariy  on  the  tenth  day  readied 
Inverness,  bringing  his  total  ride  for  9  d.  6  h.  35  min.  to  1048^  m."  "  Alfred  Nixon,  starting  a 
day  earlier,  Aug.  16,  on  an  Imperial  Club  tri.,  reached  Okehampton,  98I;  Taunton,  994 ; 
Bridgenorth,  96 ;  Lancaster,  120} ;  CarHsle,  68 ;  Edinbuiigh,  loi ;  Inverness,  145I ;  John 
O'Groat's,  127^.  This  total  of  856^  m.  in  8  days  lowered  his  previous  reoord  by  some  6  days. 
On  the  28th,  3.15  to  11.45  i**  m.,  he  rode  from  London  (Holbom  Viaduct)  to  Norman's  Cross,  76 
m.;  29th,  to  Borough  Bridge,  130^  m.;  30th,  Dunbar,  161  ro.  (at  2  a.  m.  of  31st);  31st,  10  a.  m. 
to  1.45  p.  M.,  Edinbuigh, — ^a  total  distance  of  397  m.  in  2  d.  23  h."  Sept.  12-15,  W>  1^- 
Sutton  made  the  400  m.  from  L.  to  £.  in  2  d.  9  h.,  which  remains  the  best  record.  J.  H. 
Adams,  starting  from  Land's  End  May  17,  '84,  on  a  46  in.  Facile,  reached  John  O'Groat's  in  | 
h.  less  than  7  days,— doing  197  m.  the  last  day,  his  total  route  being  about  925  m.  long.  The 
best  previous  record  was  that  of  James  Lennox,  10  days',  one  of  which  had  been  devoted  to 
rest  (except  that  H.  R.  Goodwin  went  over  the  course  in  8  d.  15  h.,  starting  just  a  day  ahead 
of  Adams).  "  A  wonderful  performance  on  a  tricycle  "  was  IVhetUi^s  designation  of  a  24  h. 
run  of  231!  m.  taken  July  x,  '85,  by  C.  H.  R.  Gossett,  an  elderiy  man,  "to  beat  the  record," 
which  he  did  by  \\  m.  More  remarkable  than  all  was  the  ride  of  200  m.  taken  July  6  by  Mrs. 
J.  H.  Allen,  of  Birmingham,  in  6  min.  less  than  the  24  h.,  on  an  automatic  steering  Cripper 
tri.,  geared  to  56^  in.  and  weighing  65  lbs.  She  was  accompanied  by  her  husband,  on  a  similar 
machine,  geared  to  60  in.,  and  he  probably  rode  20  m.  more,  in  arranging  for  her  at  various 
points.  Her  previous  best  record  of  152  m.  in  24  h.,  was  on  a  42  in.  single  driving  Royal  Mail, 
geared  to  48  in.  She  had  used  the  Cripper  more  than  1900  m.  in  a  little  more  than  2  mot.,  and 
she  "  finished  the  long  ride  perfectly  fresh,"  said  the  Cyclist^  "  though  having  ridden  aD  the 
hills."  Among  the  several  attendants  for  short  stretches  was  J.  H.  Ball,  of  Coventry,  who  in  '83 
rode  a  bi.  125  m.  without  dismount.  The  dates,  winners  and  times  of  the  annual  100  m.  races  00 
the  London  to  Bath  road  are  these  :  '77,  June  ai,  C.  Walmesley,  8,.33.3o;  '78,  June  10,  F.  E. 
Appleyard,  7.18.55  ;  '79,  June  2,  A.  H.  Koch,  8.57.55 ;  '80,  May  17,  A.  D.  Butler,  12.2.0;  '81, 
June  6,  L.  B.  Reynolds,  7.55.0;  '82,  May  29,  H.  R.  Reyndds,  7.26.0;  '83,  May  14,  H.  R, 
Reynolds,  7.28.0;  '84,  June  3,  G.  F.  Beck,  8.26.40;  '85,  May  25,  P.  H.  Watson,  7.33.43. 


After  the  above  paragraph  was  put  m  type,  I  received  a  copy  of  the  little  book  named  at 
the  top  of  the  page,  and  I  find  that  it  gives  pp.  76-79  to  a  summary  of  8  long-distance  rides  pre- 
vious to  '83, — ^being  all  that  the  author  had  been  able  to  discover  any  record  of.  The  4  of  these 
that  were  from  London  to  John  O'Groat's  are  named  first,  for  convenience'  sake,  though  2  of 
them  were  later  in  time  than  2  of  the  rides  "  from  comer  to  comer  of  Great  Britain  "  ;  thus  : 
(i)  On  June  2,  '73,  Chas.  Spencer  and  3  other  members  of  the  Middlesex  B.  C,  started  from 
the  King's  Arms,  Kensington,  at  7. 30' a.  m.,  followed  the  Great  North  Road  to  Newcastle-on- 
Tyne  (277  m.  in  6  days),  and  reached  J.  O'G.,  768  m.,  at  8  p.  m.  of  the  i6th.  (2)  In  Aug.,  '79, 
H.  Blackwell,  jr.,  of  the  Canon  bury  B.  C,  rode  alone  over  the  same  route  in  11  d.  4  h.,  and 
computed  the  distance  as  689  m.  .—-which  was  probably  more  nearly  correct  than  the  79  m.  greater 
estimate  of  Spencer.  (3)  In  Aug.  ,'81,3  members  of  the  Brixton  B.  C.  rode  by  a  different  rxwtc, 
through  the  Scotch  fadces,  to  Inverness,  and  thence  by  the  former  route  to  J.  O'G.,  745  m.,  in  t6 
days,  whereof  5  were  devoted  to  visiting  and  sight-seeing.  (4)  In  Oct.,  *8i,  H.  Line  and  W. 
Bourdon,  of  the  Bromley  B.  C,  rode  to  J.  O'G.,  737  m.,  in  30  days,  including  a  2  days'  halt  for 
snow,  and  much  other  stormy  weather.  (5)  On  Monday,  July  12,  '80,  H.  Blackwell,  jr.,  and 
— — .  Harnian,  of  the  Canonbury  B.  C,  left  Penzance,  and  rode  to  J.  O'G.,  876  m.,  in  13  days. 


5s6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

p.  173)  a  three-column  report  of  his  ride,  whose  details  were  authenticated  by  an  abundance  of 
pace-maken  and  other  witnesses.  Thunder  storms  or  other  pouring  rains  prevailed  on  every 
day  of  the  6,  making  the  roads  almost  continuously  wet  and  heavy ;  and  the  rider  was,  on  3  or  4 
days,  drenched  to  the  skin,  for  hours  at  a  time.  Leaving  L.  £.  just  after  midnight  of  Monday, 
June  7,  he  reached  J.  O'G.  at  8.35  a.  m.  of  Sunday,  with  a  record  of  877  m.  for  the  6  days,  8  h. 
and  39  min.  The  mileage  of  the  successive  daily  stretches  between  sleeping-places  was  as  fol- 
lows :  Bridgewater,  163 ;  Wellington,  134]^ ;  Garstane,  104I ;  Selkirk,  134 ;  Dalwhinnie,  141 
(thence  to  J.  O'G.,  198).  The  amount  of  sleep  may  be  inferred  from  the  hours  of  arrival  at  and 
departure  from  these  places,  thus  :  B.,  1.5  and  4.20  a.  m.  ;  W.,  13.20  and  6.15  a.  m.  ;  G.,  11.15 
p.  M.  and  1. 15  A.  M. ;  S.,  11.5  p.  m.  and  3  a.  m.  ;  D.,  12.55  A-  m.  and  3.40  a.  m.  It  thus  ap- 
pears that  the  journey  began  with  35  h.  of  continuous  riding,  and  ended  with  a  still  longer  pull 
of  39  h. ;  yet  the  rider  gained  5I  lbs.  on  the  way.  "  Writing  with  a  fresh  recollection  of  the 
difficulties"  he  says,  "  I  am  of  the  opinion  that,  with  dry  weather,  and  with  no  great  amount 
of  opposing  wind,  the  distance  from  L.  £.  to  J.  O'G.  ought  to  be  completed  in  5  days,  by  a 
competent  rider,  on  bi.  or  tri."  He  arranged  to  attempt  this,  Aug.  16,  '86 ;  but  bad  weather  for- 
bade.  I  believe  the  weather  also  caused  A.  Nixon  to  abandon  the  plan  (announced  in  Wheelings 
June  9,  '86)  of  trying  to  push  a  tri.  from  Land's  End  to  London  in  2  days,  by  a  route  of  387  m., 
"  whereof  the  first  118  m.  are  almost  mountainous,  and  the  rest  very  rough  and  hilly." 

"  Beautiful  weather  and  favorable  wind  "  helped  G.  P.  Mills,  of  Liverpool,  during  the  first 
half  of  his  5  days'  marvelous  ride  of  861  m.,  which  began  at  L.  £.,  just  after  midnight  of  July 
5,  '86 ;  but  a  gale  was  then  encountered  "  which  blew  the  three  riders  off  their  machines,  time 
after  time,"  and  the  wind  continued  adverse  to  the  finish,  with  intense  cold  and  occasional 
down-pours  of  rain.  Gretna  Green,  almost  500  m.  from  L.  £.,  was  reached  in  %\  days,  by  the 
aid  of  various  pace-makers,  and  A.  H.  Fletcher  accompanied  him  thence  to  J.  O'G.  The  first 
stretch  from  L.  £.  was  35^  h.,  to  Gloucester,  230  ra.,  where  ash.  halt  was  made  for  sleep  be- 
fore the  second  stretch  of  34}  h.  to  Kendal,  300  m. ;  and  Edinburgh,  150  m.  further,  was 
reached  at  11  p.  m.  of  that  third  day.  Crossing  here  by  Granton  Ferry,  at  midnight,  he  had  a 
short  sleep  in  a  r.  r.  carriage  at  the  station,  with  three  companions,  and  then  wheeled  to  Perth, 
37  m.,  at  8.55;  Athole,  63  m.,  at  1.30;  Kingussie,  100  m.,  at  9.31,  and  Caribridge,  131  m.,  at 
Z1.55.  On  the  fifth  and  final  day,  he  reached  Dingwall,  35  m.,  at  7 ;  Holmsdale,  99  m.,  at  5.45 ; 
Wick,  141  m.,  at  10.30;  and  thence  kept  right  on  to  J.  O'G.,  160  m., — finishing  at  1.45  a.  m.  of 
July  10.  A  month  later,  he  drove  a  Humber  tri.  over  the  course,  881  m.,  in  5  days,  10  h. ;  and 
I  condense  the  following  facts  from  his  own  two-column  report  {.Wheelings  Sept.  i,  '86,  p.  331) : 
The  start  was  just  after  midnight  of  Monday,  Aug.  15,  the  roads  being  wet  and  heavy  from  rain 
which  had  faUen  until  10.30 ;  and  rain  fell  again  from  3  to  6  a.  m.,  and  also  in  the  evening  after 
7.  Nevertheless,  he  reached  Bristol,  303  m.,  at  11.30  p.  m.  ;  started  on  after  3  h.  halt,  and 
reached  Warrenton,  164  m.,  in  spite  of  head- winds  during  the  day,  at  xi.30  p.  m.  (367};  after 
another  3  h.  halt,  rode  for  36|  h.,  to  Crawford,  175  m.  (542) ;  after  3  h.  halt,  the  fourth  stage  was 
completed  to  Dalwhinnie,  7  a.  m.  to  3  a.  m.,  144  m.  (686),  slowness  having  been  enforced  by  a 
dangerously  rough  road,  and  inability  to  use  his  lantern  ;  after  3  h.  halt,  he  rode  109  m.  more  dur- 
ing that  fifth  day,  to  Golspie,  at  ti.35  (809);  and  then,  after  \  h.  sleep,  started  at  13.40  a.  m. 
for  the  final  73  m.,  and  reached  J.  O'G.  (881)  exactly  at  10,  "  fresher  than  at  the  start,  though 
having  had  only  10  h.  sleep  on  the  trip."  Dil worth  Abbott,  of  the  Preston  C.  C,  in  a  Wednes- 
day's ride  of  163  m.,  accompanied  him  for  several  hours ;  but  A.  W.  Gamble  was  his  roost  effi- 
cient pace-maker  and  assistant  during  this  great  journey ;  and  the  proofs  of  it,  as  well  as  of  his 
July  bi.  ride,  were  promptly  accepted  by  the  officers  of  the  N.  C.  U.  Neither  of  these  "  rec- 
ords "  seem  likely  soon  to  be  essentially  lowered ;  and  if  the  distance  "  from  comer  to  comer  " 
shall  ever  be  covered  more  quickly,  unexampled  good-luck  in  respect  to  winds  and  weather  will 
doubtless  be  a  chief  factor  in  the  phenomenon.  But  the  end  of  '86  certainly  finds  all  the  long- 
distance racers  in  the  world  ready  to  accord  the  highest  place  of  honor  among  them  to  this  young 
George  Pilkington  Mills  (b.  Jan.  8,  '67),  whose  portrait  forms  the  frontispiece  of  the  fomth 
annual  issue  of  the  "  Liverpool  Cyclists'  Guide  "  (by  Geo.  £.  Young,  b.  July  30,  '53  ;  a  wheel- 
man continuously  since  '69),  and  faces  a  table  of  his  monthly  riding-record  for  '85,  cut  from  the 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  557 

BL  NtWM  of  Jan.  29k  '86.  This  shows  5270  m.  accredited  to  93  days,  or  an  average  daily  ride  of 
57I  m.  On  19  of  these  days  he  rode  more  than  too  m.,  and  on  5  of  the  19  he  rode  more  than 
aoo  m.  In  the  foUowiog  abstract  of  the  table,  the  numerals  successively  show  the  number  ol 
rides,  HKHithly  mileage,  average  ride,  longest  ride,  and  total  mileage  from  Jan.  i,  '85  :  Jan. — 
5i  «35f  a7t  38,  135 ;  Feb.— 4,  117.  29*1  38,  jsa ;  Mar.— 9,  311,  33I,  63,  563 ;  Apr.— 7,  435,  6j, 
180, 998  s  May— 13,  895,  68|,  156,  1893  ;  June— 7,  43a,  6ii,  106,  2325 ;  July— 14, 1367,  97i.a5»f 
369s ;  Aug.— 9, 747f  83,  a6o,  4439  \  Sept.— 9, 348, 38J,  47f  4787 :  Oct.— 5, 159, 32, 39, 4946 ;  Nov.— 
6»  f73t  a9»  39»  51 19;  Dec — ^4,  151,  38,  73,  5270.  His  longest  ride  in  '85  was  900I  m.  in  8  days, 
18  h. ;  thus :  May  25  he  rode  from  Liverpool  to  Daventry  and  back  to  Coventry.  156  m.,  in  23^ 
h.,  which  included  13  h.  of  rain  (his  father,  W.  Downes  Mills,  accompanying  him  the  full  dis- 
tance, on  a  tricycle);  May  26,  C.  to  Gloucester,  121  m. :  May  27  to  June  2,  G.  to  J.  0*G., 
663I  m.,  in  6  days,  2  h. — accompanying  L.  Fletcher,  who  started  from  L.  E.,  May  26,  and  won 
the  tri.  record,  by  reaching  J.  O'G.,  875  m.,  in  8  days,  5  h.  20  min.,  in  spite  of  bad  roads  and 
weather.  Three  mos.  later,  Sept.  29  to  Oct.  2,  Mr.  F.  pushed  a  tri.  from  L.  £.  to  Gretna 
Green,  500  m.,  in  ^  h.  less  than  4  days,  though  having  rain  and  wet  roads  for  360  m.  The  same 
500  m.  were  covered  by  G.  P.  M.,  at  the  outset  of  his  great  bi.  ride  of  July,  '86,  in  2  days,  14} 
h.,  and  with  only  }  h.  of  sleep.  Of  the  latter's  24  h.  bi.  rides  of  '85,  named  on  p.  553  as  giving 
him  "  the  record"  of  the  Anfield  B.  C,  the  longest,  259  m.,  was  on  Aug.  22,  "  from  Knotty 
Ash  to  Weedon  and  back  to  Bold  Bridge,  straightaway,  up  and  dovm  hill,  over  roads  good,  bad 
and  indifferent.''  The  252  m.  ride  was  on  July  22,  from  Liverpool  to  Dunchurch  and  back; 
and  it  was  a  sort  of  sequel  to  the  232  m.  ride  of  July  13,  on  the  same  route,  when  the  last  180 
m.  were  done  with  a  broken  pedal. 

In  '86,  however.  Mills  quite  eclipsed  his  earlier  day's  rides,  and  he  also  made  the  remark* 
able  daily  average  of  75  m.  for  82  rides  between  Jan.  x  and  Oct.  9,  by  covering  a  total  of  6157  m. 
It  was  on  Aug.  5— ten  days  before  his  tri.  ride  to  J.  O'G. — ^that  he  surprised  people  by  wheeling 
373  m.  on  a  Beeston  H umber  tri.,  "fitted  with  the  Trigwell  ball-bearing  head,  which  was  aa 
rigid  at  the  finish  as  when  starting."  The  start  was  i  m.  n.  of  Biggleswade,  at  the  46ih  m.<«ton« 
of  the  Great  North  Road.  Along  this  he  went  straightaway  from  12  to  6.45  a.  m.,  and  then 
tnmed  back  to  Lynn,  for  breakfast,  with  10 1  m.  done, — though  his  looth  m.  was  finished  at 
7.5,  being  \  h.  better  than  the  previous  record,  held  by  Appleyard.  He  dined  at  Holbach  (2.40 
to  3.20,  174  m.) ;  reached  Lynn  the  third  time  with  194  m.  done ;  halted  10  min.  for  food  at  234 
m. ;  got  back  to  Biggleswade  at  11.20,  with  265  m. ;  and  finished  at  the  45th  m.-stone,  273  m., 
JQst  as  the  clock  struck  midnight.  [The  best  previous  record  was  266}  m.,  made  by  J.  H.  Adams, 
Oct.  4,  '84.]  Shifty  winds  were  somewhat  of  a  hindrance  for  the  last  180  m.  Signatures  were 
taken  in  all  the  chief  towns,  and  pace-makers  were  with  him  for  much  of  the  way, — so  that  the 
details  of  the  ride  were  proved  beyond  doubt.  Two  mos.  later,  Oct.  6,  in  the  same  region,  ho 
bettered  this  record  2i(  m.,  starting  again  at  B.,  and  finishing  on  the  stroke  of  12,  when  \  nu 
from  that  town,  with  294}  m.  done.  "  Hitchin,  Peterborough,  Wisbeach,  Cambridge  and  Bed- 
lord  were  the  principal  places  on  the  chosen  route,  which  is  one  of  the  very  best  that  can  be  got 
in  England ;  the  roads  were  in  grand  order  and  the  weather  most  favorable.  The  first  100  m. 
were  done  in  ^\  h.,  150  in  la  h,  and  200  in  i6|  h.  He  rode  an  Ivel  rear-driving  safety  bi.,  made 
by  Dan  Albone,  of  B.,  and  was  accompanied  by  Dan  for  about  160  m.,  and  by  others  nearly  all 
the  way ;  but  he  ran  down  most  of  his  pace-makers,  and  finished  up,  fresh  and  strong  as  at  the 
start.  A.  G.  Hills  was  starter  and  time-keeper,  the  same  as  on  the  ride  of  Aug.  5  "  {IVkeeling, 
Oct  13,  '86).  Midway  between  these  exploits,  on  Sept.  4,  Mills  won  the  24  h.  road-race  of  the 
North  Road  C.  C, — doing  227  m.,  as  against  225  ro.  by  — .  Waterhouse,  of  Sheffield ;  217  m. 

byC.  W.  Brown;  217  m.  by .  Huntsman,  of  London;  190  m.  by  T.  R.  Marriott  (tri.); 

and  306  m.  by  Day  and  Moorhouae  (tandem).    There  were  several  slower  competitors ;  and  M« 
was  "  the  only  one  of  the  bicyclers  who  escaped  any  falls,  on  account  of  the  heavy  mist, 
darkness,  high  winds  and  fearful  state  of  the  roads."    On  Sept.  6,  J.  K.  Conway  rode  31 
this  course,  being  accompanied  206  m.  by  his  brother,  T.  B.  C. ;  and  on  Sept  7,  G.  B. 
(using  a  31  Ibe.  R.  &  P.  bi.)  rode  260  m.  there,— doing  117  m.  before  breakfast, 
before  8  p.  m.    He  was  accompanied  for  300  m.  by  N.  Crooke,  who  then 


reaktast^MM 


5S8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

forced  him  to  give  up  at  aao  m.    All  four  of  these  men  belong  to  the  Anfield  B.  C,  and  thetr 
'85  rides  are  recorded  on  p.  553,  along  with  those  of  Mills.    The  latter  lowered  the  50  ni.  hi 
road-record  19  min.,  on  Saturday,  Oct.  2,  starting  at  3.10  p.  m.,  on  an  Ivel  safety  bi.,  from  the 
30th  m.-post  (which  is  4  m.  s.  of  Hitchin)  and  riding  to  the  8oth  m.-post,  at  Peterborough,  in  1 
h.  47  min.  36  sec.     "  The  road  was  in  perfect  condition,  and  the  breeze  slightly  favorable,    'riie 
first  15  m.  to  Biggleswade  were  done  in  45  min.,  and  Dan  Albone  was  pace-maker  thence  u, 
the  finish."    The  time  was  z  min.  33  sec.  more  than  that  on  the  notable  50  m.  ride  which  Mi' 
took  with  A.  J.  Wilson,  Sept.  22,  on  a  Beeston  Humber  tandem,  from  the  76th  m.-post,  4  m. 
of  Peterborough,  straightaway  to  Langford.     The  first  20  m.  occupied  only  i  h.  4  min. ;  the  ni 
38  m.,  2  h.  (being  faster  than  the  bi.  record  on  path);  and  the  total  of  2  h.  46  min.  3  sec.  w 
only  5  sec.  slower  than  the  bi.  path  record,  and  was  23  min.  52  sec.  faster  than  the  previous  b. 
50  m.  tandem  ride,  accredited  to  S.  Lee  and  Dr.  Turner.     Droves  of  cattle  hindered  prog] 
at  several  places,  and  the  wind  was  contrary  near  the  finish.     On  Sept.  25,  Mills  and  Wi 
began  an  attempt  to  do  300  m.  in  a  day ;  but  at  2.45  a.  m.,  when  44  m.  had  been  covered,  t 
tandem  was  overturned  and  disabled,  by  running  into  a  heap  of  road-metal. 

The  most  notable  long-distance  tri.  ride  reported  in  France,  was  that  of  Daniel  (kno\\ 
"  Baby  "  ;  see  p.  553),  from  Pau  to  Calais,  Aug.  12,  at  4  a.  m.,  to  Aug.  17,  at  2.17  p.  m.,— 
tance  of  660  m.,  in  5  days,  10  h.  17  min.,  whereof  99  h.  37  min.  were  spent  in  the  saddle, 
reached  Bergerae,  about  137  m.,  at  9.40  p.  m.  of  Aug.  12 ;  then  plodded  on  from  4.20  a 
the  13th  to  3  A.  M.  of  the  14th,  and  slept  2  h.  at  Laumont ;  reached  Orleans  at  8.30  t 
14th ;  passed  through  Paris  to  Pontoise,  on  15th  (after  a  delay  of  a  or  3  h.  by  mistake  in 
reached  Auxy-le-Chateau  on  i6th,  and  Calais  on  17th.     He  sent  back  postcards,  from  c 
lage,  signed  by  the  officer  in  charge,  to  verify  the  ride."    I  quote  from  the  Paris  cor 
IVhttlmen's  GasetU  (Oct.,  '86,  p.  107),  who  also  said  :    "  H.  O.  Duncan  tried  a  simi! 
eariier  in  the  year,  but,  after  fighting  5  or  6  days*  rain,  gave  up  any  idea  of  making  a  r 
Wheeling,  of  Aug.  4,  '86,  said :    "  Mr.  Fortner,  of  Vienna,  has  just  ridden  a  bi.  fr. 
Paris,  in  11  days,  2  h.,  thus  beating  Lieut.  Zubowitz's  famous  horseback  ride  of  w 
(For  route  of  T.  Stevens,  P.  to  V.,  May  ,6-31,  '85,  see  pp.  480-81.)    On  Sept.  21,  ' 
Warren  and  G.  Adams,  of  St.  Helens,  rode  from  St.  H.  to  Llandaff,  Wales,  193I  ra., 
8  min.    As  regards  the  rumored  "  12,000  m.  done  on  a  tri.  in  '82,  by  W.  W  WilHam 
don,"  I  am  obliged  to  report  that  he  has  neglected  to  answer  my  letters  of  enquiry  tho/ 
Londoners  have  told  me  that  the  "  record  "  has  no  known  basis  of  cyclom  or  writt. 
IS  supposed  simply  to  represent  a  "  general  guess  of  about  1000  m.  a  month  "  ridder. 
the  regular  order  of  business  (that  of  insurance-agent,  I  think);  but  sinc^  such  n^ 

"''!,?  "  "  ^*'** "  ""'^  "•  ^-  ^*^^"  (P-  535)  have  been  careless  enough  to  all . 
public,  as  if  It  were  authentic  ("  Faed  "  did  this  in  .S>r.  IVh.  Gaz.  July,  '83  p  35)  I 
to  make  this  present  explanation,  to  show  that  I  did  not  write  in  ignorance  on  p'  - 
named  E.  Tegetmeier's  10,053  m.  as  the  highest  annual  record  then  accredited  to  a 


.  J^''  ^"*  P*'*  ""^  **»»  ^*'*P*«'''  "  ^»'  ^^  *h«  break  in  p.  554,  is  9  mos.  older  thar 
It,  having  all  been  put  in  type  by  Feb.  15,  '86,-wherea8  these  final  pages  are  writt 
trotyped  during  the  latter  half  of  Nov.  Meanwhile,  my  correspondents  at  the  A' 
pectingeach  month  to  receive  the  completed  book,  have  failed  to  send  reports  o 
recent  rides;  so  that  the  foUowing  summaries  are  mostly  prepared  from  mater' 
accumulated  in  '84-5,-8upplemented  by  a  file  of  the  fortnightly  Australutn  Cvcr 
to  the  date  of  its  discontinuance,  Sept.  25,  *86.] 

My  eariiest  subscriber  in  that  part  of  the  worid— enroUed  as  "  No  1138  "  .. 
Geo.  W.  Burston,  Capt.  of  the  Melbourne  B.  C.  which  is  not  only  one  of  the  W 
the  sort  on  the  Island  Continent,  but  is  also  one  of  the  oldest  anywhere  existin  • 
formed  about  the  middle  of  Aug.,  '78.     His  letter  to  me  of  Mar.  aa,  '84  said  •  ^ 
for  details  of  the  xoo  m.  straightaway  ride  which  brought  my  name  to  yo*ur  not! 
correct  account,  written  by  T.  A.  Edwards,  from  the  Mkld^mrm  Bulletin  of  May  > 


560  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

which  WM  taken  by  J.  A.  K.  Qarka,  A.  S.  Mason  and  A.  a  Mason,  irom  M.  to  Caatlenttin^ 
Ballarat,  Geelong  and  Queensciiffe,— but  it  was  presumably  in  '79.  In  '&>,  at  £aster,  G.  W. 
Bureton,'  E.  C.  Carter,  H.  C.  Bagot,  A.  E.  Buuard,  W.  b.  Kazaton,  D.  R.  Long,  C.  bmiih,  G. 
Stevenson  and  H.  H.  Turner  rode  from  Geelong  lo  Warrnambool,  aai  m.  j  and,  at  Christmas, 
the  two  Erst  named  saUed  across  to  Tasmania  and  wheeled  from  Launceston  to  Hobart,  las 
m.  -while  H  C.  Bagot.  J.  A.  IC  Clarke,  W.  Calvert,  E.  J.  Gill,  J.  Hall  and  L.  Moody  rode 
fnin  M  to  Ballarat.  In  '81,  at  Easter,  G.  W.  Burston,  F.  Lister  and  D.  R.  Long  rode  from 
Colac  to  Hamilton,  Ararat  and  Ballarat,  246  m.  (ind.  125  m.  in  x6  h.);  and,  at  Christmas,  the 
first  V9io  with  G.  Hope  and  H.  R.  biokes,  rtide  3*0  m.  in  4  days,— to  Geetong,  MortUke. 
Ballarat  and  Melbourtie.  In  Oct.,  '8a,  H.  C.  Bagot  a»»d  J?.  J.  Empson  rode  500  m.  in  9  days,- 
from  Ballarat  to  Hamilton,  Warrnambool,  Camperdown,  Derringaiium.back  to  Ballarai,  ihenoe 
to  Talbot.  Malmesbury  and  Meibounie.  At  Christmas,  '82,  G.  W.  Burston,  E.  H.  tyffe  and 
F  Stokes  rode  to  MarysviUe  and  back ;  while  Al£.  J  oy  took  a  two  days'  circuit  of  17s  m.  ilirough 
Geelong  and  Ballarat.  At  Easter,  '83,  G.  W.  Burston,  H.  C.  B-got,  C.  Carter,  H.  C.  Hand, 
ford  and  W.  S.  Hazelton  rode  to  Geelong.  Ballarat,  Warrnambool  and  Colac,  290  ro.  m  4 
days,— while  G.  A.  Thome  rode  from  M.  to  Echuca  and  back,  sao  m.  in  5  days,— E.  being  a 
border  town  whence  a  bridge  crosses  the  Murray  into  N.  S.  W.  Melbourne's  Ulust.  mag.,  Omc» 
a  Month,  of  May  15.  '85,  conuined  a  6<olumn  sketch  of  the  club's  Easier  tour  of  that  year, 
written  by  F.  J.  Empson.  who  named,  as  the  other  participants,  G.  W.  Burston,  E.  C.  Carter, 

G.  S.  Geddes,  J.  Baird,  H.  Harston, ,  Skoglund  and  C.  Wragge,— together  vrith  Gea 

Spicer,  Captain  of  the  Victoria  B.  C.  (and.  at  the  start,  two  long-distance  tourists  from  Ade- 
laide). Train  was  taken  to  Ballarat,  as  a  surting-point,  and  the  officers  of  the  club  there  accom- 
panied the  party  to  a  midnight  supper  on  arrival,  and  gave  an  escort  of  ao  men  for  the  first  few 
miles  of  the  tour,  next  morning.  Then  at  Bsaufort.  aS  m.  on,  another  escort  of  30  welcomed 
them  to  a  banquet  in  the  Shire  Hall ;  and  at  Buangor,  14^  m.,  still  othera  were  waiting  to  ride 
with  them  the  last  14  m.  to  Ararat,  for  the  night.  The  second  day  ended  at  Hamilton.  70  m., — 
the  firat  50  m.  being  covered  in  5  h.  10  min.  of  the  forenoon,— but  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town 
they  found  the  local  club  awaiting  them  with  a  stack  of  bottled  lager,  and,  after  this  introdao> 
tion,  "  a  drag  and  four  "  took  the  entire  company  oul  to  supper  at  Wannon  Falls,  1 1^  m.  In 
spite  of  a  rainy  night.  82  m.  were  covered  on  the  third  day,  the  last  14  m.,  to  Camperdown, 
being  done  in  the  darkness  without  a  dismount.  A  previous  stretch  of  14  m.,  to  Terang,  was 
covered  in  i  h.  12  min.  The  fourth  day's  record  was  75  m.,  to  Geelong,  making  a  toUl,  includ- 
ing detours,  of  300  m.  Breakfast  on  that  final  day  was  at  Colac,  after  29  m.  The  lake  and 
mountain  scenery  of  the  route  wras  highly  praised. 

The  two  Adelaide  men  mentioned  in  the  above  tour  were  A.  Gault  and  R.  C.  Cox.  who  had 
recently  (Mar.  21-29)  pushed  their  bicycles  across  from  A.  to  M.,  50S  m.,  except  that  they  took 
train  from  Kingston  to  Narracoorte.  53  m.  of  unridable  swamps  and  sand  hills.    Mr.  G..  after 
a  day  with  the  Melbourne  tourists,  returned  by  train  to  M.  and  thence  by  boat  to  A. ;  while  Mr. 
C,  after  two  days  with  the  party,  retraced  his  former  route  alone  by  wheel  and  train  to  A. 
The  pioneer  tour  between  the  two  capitals  had  been  taken  3  mos.  earlier  (Christmas.  '84).  by  A. 
H.  Padroan,  of  A.,  who  wheeled  495  m.,  but  resorted  to  the  train  from  K.  to  N..  "because 
assured  that  a  previous  tourist.  Mr.  Nimmo.  had  done  this,  and  that  the  S3  ni.  stretch  included 
at  least  la  m.  of  positively  unridable  sand,  and  3  or  4  m.  of  swamp,  a  or  3  ft.  deep."    A  part 
of  this  bad  stretch  was  tried,  in  the  opposite  direction,  by  W.  J.  S.  Story,  who.  on  Jan.  14,  '8s, 
wheeled  from  Mt.  Gambler  to  Narracoorte,  54  m.,  10.30  a.  m.  to  8.20  p.  m..  "  enjoying  the  fine 
scenery,  in  spite  of  the  great  heat" ;  and  on  the  isth,  tramped  22  m.  through  the  sands  and 
swamps  and  along  the  r.  r.  ties  to  Lucindale,  where  he  was  glad  to  take  train  for  K.    Thence, 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  i6th,  he  wheeled  33  m.  to  Coolatoo.  along  with  the  mail  coach,  thoi^ 
much  of  the  road  was  bad ;  and  then  the  driven  of  the  coach,  as  a  practical  joke,  forcibly  pot 
him  and  his  bicycle  on  top  thereof,  and  insisted  on  having  his  company  to  Meniogie,  60  m., 
through  the  night,  during  which  the  thunder  storms  raged  until  all  were  soaked.    On  the  17th,  s 
to  8  r.  M.,  he  pushed  through  heavy  sand  to  Wellin^on,  28  m. ;  and  on  the  18th,  9.30  a.  it.  to 
to  P.  M.,  by  67  m.  of  generally  good  roads  to  Adelaide ;  total  225  m.    Bad  as  it  this  route  from 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS,  561 

WellingUm,  along  the  Coorong,  the  only  aUernathre  is  a  wone  one,  for  it  leads  through  the  "  90  m. 
desert  to  Bordentown."  His  report  of  this  tour  was  printed  in  ^.  C.  News^  Kpt.  11,  '85,  which* 
also  contained  the  first  part  of  A.  Gaolt's  report,  that  ran  through  successive  numbers  to  May  33 ; 
while  A*  H.  Padman's  report  likewise  occupied  3  or  4  issues,  beginning  Jan.  17.  The  daily  mile- 
age of  the  Gault  and  Cox  ride  stood  thus :  3a,  59, 59, 33,  56, 41,  76, 103, 45 ;  and  all  three  reports 
give  much  interesting  evidence  to  show  that  touring  through  South  Australia  is  rather  more  diffi- 
cult than  in  Victoria,  whose  Western  District  seems  to  contain  a  greater  mileage  of  good  roads 
than  any  other  section  of  the  continent.  Ballarat  is  a  sort  of  center  or  starting-point  in  this  sys- 
tem, and  the  B.  B.  &  T.  C.  (org.,  '79)  u  second  in  age  only  to  the  Melbourne  B.  C,  and  is 
almost  equally  active  in  the  promotion  of  tours.  The  BaUarat  Courier  of  Feb.  20,  '84^  gave  a 
column  account  of  tlie  club's  annual  ride  of  40a  m.,  Feb.  (0-17,  participated  in  by  three  pairs  of 
brothers,->R.  A.  &  T.  H.  Thompson,  H.  P.  &  G.  H.  Shimmin,  T.  &  E.  Miller,— of  whom  the 
first-named  was  capuin  and  the  last  named  was  "  a  boy  not  yet  16  years  old,  who  rode  the  whole 
way  vrithout  showing  any  signs  of  fatigue."  So  large  a  party  had  not  previously  taken  so  long 
a  ride  in  Victoria ;  and  all  the  local  dubs  gave  them  warm  greetings.  The  mileage  of  the  t 
days  was  thus  distributed :  Geetong,  54;  Colac,  46;  Warmambool,  74;  Caramut,  36  ("the 
hst  18  m.  like  a  race  track");  Hamilton,  33 ;  Ararat,  67 ;  to  Stawell  and  back,  36;  Ballarat, 
56b  A  thunder  storm  on  the  last  day  supplied  the  only  rain  of  the  tour,  though  great  heat  pre- 
vailed at  the  start  On  the  third  day,  "  when  we  enter  the  Stony  Rises  (a  wonderful  succes- 
stoo  of  hills  and  dales,  covered  with  ferns  and  native  shrubs),  the  impetus  we  get  going 
down  one  hill  takes  us  up  the  next,  and  so  on.  As  we  fly  along,  hundreds  of  rabbits  scamper  away, 
and  the  noisy  cockatoos  herald  our  approach  with  their  deafening  screams."  A  year  later,  the 
same  party  (except  that  J.  Ronaldson  took  the  Thompsons'  place)  wheeled  270  m.  together,  besides 
having  a  steamboat  ride  from  Geelong  to  Melbourne.  The  first  day,  to  Bolac,  60  m.,  included 
30  m.  of  dum'al  progress  across  the  Streatham  plains ;  but  the  second  "  took  in  the  14  m.  of  per- 
fection between  Mortlake  and  Terang."  On  Apr.  29,  '83,  H.  P.  Shimmin  rode  100  m.  in  11  h. 
57  mia. ;  and  he  did  it  again,  Oct.  14,  in  company  with  R.  A.  Thompson,  also  in  11  h.  57  voixa. 
C.  M.  Bennett,  of  the  same  club,  with  favorable  roads  and  weather,  made  100  m.,  Feb.  10,  '86, 
b  10  h.  33  min.,  which  included  i\  h.  fo^^U.  He  used  a  50  in.  British  Challenge ;  and  that 
same  style  of  bi.  carried  5  of  the  6  tourists,  without  break,  in  the  400  m.  ride  of  '84.  Mr.  B.  was 
awarded  a  $10  trophy  in  May,  for  having  attended  every  weekly  club-run  for  6  mos., — the 
second  jmse  of  #5  going  to  G.  H.  Shimmin,  who  was  absent  but  once.  The  Easter  tour  in 
'86  of  the  Cariton  B.  C,  led  through  Ballarat  to  Geelong,  240  m.  in  5  days,  and  the  participanU 
were  G.  Black,  E.  E.  Lording  and  A.  Starkey. 

At  Christmas,  '83,  Walter  Hume,  of  Melbourne,  "  covered  530  m.  in  6}  days  of  actual  riding," 
throngh  Geelong,  Colac, Warmambool,  Ararat,  Stawell,  Castlemaine  and  home  to  M.  A  year  later, 
—OB  the  same  bi.,  a  D.  H.  F.  Premier,  which  gave  entire  satisfaction  both  times,— he  rode  from 
M.  to  Sydney,  about  583  m. ,  accompanied  by  H.  G.  Keef e,  an  English  visitor.  From  the  second 
part  of  his  report  {A.  C.  News,  Jan.  31,  '85),  I  find  that  the  last  343  »•  were  distributed  through 
8  days,  thus  :  Dec.  23,  Taroitta,  5$  5  24th,  Colac,  48 ;  »5th,  Bogalong,  35 ;  26th,  Gunning,  44 ; 
a7th,  Gottlbnm,  30;  28th,  Mittagong,  55;  39th,  Liverpool,  54;  30th,  at  10  A.  m.,  Sydney,  23. 
Intense  heat  was  the  chief  hindrance  to  quicker  progress.  On  Nov.  26,  '83,  C.  Greensides  and  J. 
Geoige  of  Castlemaine  won  the  gold  medals  offered  by  their  dub,  for  doing  100  m.  inside  of  is  h., 
hj  riding  from  C.  to  Melbourne,  5.30  a.  m.  to  5.30  p.  m.  They  covered  the  first  37  m.  in  2  h. 
as  min.,  and  the  first  49  m.,  to  Kyneton,  in«de  of  5  h.  Their  rests  amounted  to  i  h.,  and  their  last 
to  ra.  were  done  in  exactly  1  h.  On  Dec.  30,  '83,  A.  C.  Destree,  S.  A.  Mott,  and  — .  Gray,  of 
Hamilton,  rode  thence  to  Colac,  112  m.,  6  a.  if.  to  5.35  p.  if.,— doing  the  first  100  ra.  in  10  h. 
S3  min.  The  two  former  reached  H.  again  at  5.4S  V*  M.  *U[^^|^^  *  record  of  364  m.  A 
few  days  eariier,  J.  A.  Little,  sec  of  the  Ararat  B»  CdHHJHMtv  "9^  ^^^^  *^ 
noon  and  Leigh  Roaid  before  dark,  102  m.,  in  9 1 
15  m.,  in  I  h.  12  min.,  luid,  on  third  day,  to  M< 
hi  15  h.  43  min.  of  actual  riding.  From  a  Int 
'84  (prepared  for  me  by  a  Melbourne  sul 


563  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

p.  42),  I  take  the  following  8  of  '83,  as  being  the  only  ones  not  elsewhere  mentioned  by  me  hi- 
greater  detail  :    Jan.  i,  A.  Bartram,  of  Carlton  B.  C,  11:58;   May  24,  in  Tasmania  ('*  riding 

time")f  H. Knight,  10:55;  ^-  Turner,  10:58;  .  Hodgman,  11^9;  Sept.  18,  at  Melbourne, 

C.  Walker,  1114;  T.  B.  Bason,  11:55;  A.  L.  Wood,  11:55;  ^^c.  28,  J.  S.  Foulkes,  10:15. 
The  same  letter  said  that  the  best  day's  ride  on  a  tri.  which  had  then  been  taken  in  Victoria 
was  accredited  to  R.  J.  Parker,  Nov.  2,  '83,  90  m.,  in  xo|  h.,  when  the  breaking  of  machine 
prevented  a  100  m.  record. 

About  the  close  of  Mar.,  '85,  a  Miss  Bouchier  and  two  other  jroung  ladies,  of  Ballarat,  drove 
their  tricycles  to  Melbourne,  nearly  xoo  m.,  in  a  single  day;  and  their  report  in  the  BaUarai 
Courier  said  :  "As  to  the  effects  of  the  ride,  we  all  felt  much  better  during  the  latter  part  of 
the  journey  than  in  the  middle  of  it,  for  the  number  of  cxcsedingly  steep  hills  at  the  outset,  up 
which  we  had  to  shove  our  machines,  tended  greatly  to  exhaust  us,  and  proved  more  fatiguing 
than  the  whole  of  the  work  on  the  machines.  None  of  the  party  felt  any  distresung  effects  the 
next  day,  and  the  whole  trip  was  a  very  pleasant  one."  Similar  testimony  was  g^ven  {A .  C.  Ntms, 
Nov.  7,  '85,  pp.  89-90)  by  Miss  £.  M.  Thomfeldt,  in  reporting  "  the  longest  tri.  trip  yet  taken 
by  ladies  in  Victoria  "  :  From  Stawell  to  Ararat,  Oct.  x6, 4  to  8  p.  h.,  18  m.,  through  intense  heat ; 
thence  to  Ballarat,  58  m.,  on  xTth,  and  home  to  S.,  on  19th,  5  a.  m.  to  10  p.  m.,— a  three  days' 
ride  of  15a  m.  "  Almost  incredible  as  it  seems,  we  were  no  more  tired  after  the  5S  m.  of  the 
second  day  than  after  the  x8  m.  of  the  first.  Though  people  at  home  said  it  was  a  most  danger* 
ous  thing  for  two  girls  to  attempt  riding  such  a  distance  alone,  every  one  whom  we  met  was  both 
kind  and  respectful  to  us ;  and  we  were  in  fact  escorted  almost  every  yard  of  the  journey,  either  bjr 
family  friends  or  by  members  of  the  local  clubs, — not  to  mention  the  protection  of  our  little 
dog, '  Dandy,'  who  showed  more  weariness  than  we  ourselves  felt.  We  each  rode  a  48  in.  rear- 
steering  Cheylesmore  Club,  and  both  machines  stood  the  journey  splendidly.  Tlie  last  8  ool 
were  accomplished  in  |  h., — a  glorious  moonlight  finish  for  the  trip."  The  writer's  father,  Bft. 
Thomfeldt,  pushed  a  tricycle  straightaway  to  Sydney  about  750  m.,  Mar.  8-24,  '86,  as  detailed 
later  (pp  565-6).  Another  elderly  rider,  Geo.  R.  Broadbent,  took  the  eariiest  tri.  tour  in  Vio> 
toria,  some  time  before  the  close  of  '84, — Melbourne  to  Murchison,  94  m.,— which  was  increased 
to  X35  m.  on  the  return,  when  bad  weather  forced  a  ^ort  to  the  train.  His  letter  to  me,  dated 
at  Crowle  Villa,  Flemington  Bridge,  Hotham  Hill,  Melbourne,  Apr.  x8,  '85,  said  :  "  Though 
a  grandfather,  I  am  a  great  enthusiast  at  cycling,  which  is  truly  '  the  king  of  sports ' ;  and  notlw 
ing  suits  me  better  than  a  good  long  ride.  In  '83,  I  wheeled  considerably  more  than  5000  nu ; 
in  '84,  my  total  reached  5767  m.,  being  an  average  of  15}  m.  per  riding  day,  and  forming  the 
largest  year's  record  in  the  colony;  while  in  '85,  to  date,  I  have  ridden  1800  m."  Hb  complete 
record  for  '85  was  6814  m.,  distributed  through  345  days,  making  a  daily  average  of  18}  m.  In 
the  following  summary  of  it,  the  figures  show  respectively  riding  days,  monthly  mileage,  loogeeft 
day's  ride,  and  largest  weekly  mileage  :  Jan.,— 27,  5x8,  50, 157;  Feb., — a8,  6ai,  45, 164 ;  Mar., 
— 3x,  688,  50,  X65;  Apr.,— 29,  602,  70,  X59;  May,— 30,  541,  SOf  «33;  JunCf— «4.  367*  29,  X04? 
July,— 28,  496,  461  >4o;  Aug.,— 3x,  588,  50,  X37;  Sept.,— 28,  604,  73»  182;  Oct.,— 30,  585,  43, 
X54 ;  Nov., — 29,  585,  60,  201 ;  Dec, — 30,  619,  50,  X51.  This  is  an  exhibit  of  very  evenIy-£»-. 
tributed  riding,  appropriate  for  an  elderly  man,  absorbed  in  business  cares.  I  copy  it  from  the 
A.  C.  News  (Jan.  x6,  '86),  which  says  that  the  costs  for  wear  and  tear  of  his  machine  during  the 
68x4  m.  were  $38.  The  three  years'  wheeling  of  this  enthusiastic  "  grandfather  "  amounted,  •• 
may  be  seen,  to  x7,6oo  m.  From  earlier  issues  of  the  Nn»s,  I  learn  that  on  Novv  2,  '85,  C 
Neuhoffer  rode  from  Sandhurst  to  Melbourne,  100  m.,  between  6.30  a.  m.  and  5.30  p.  m.,  thu» 
winning  one  of  the  gold  medals  offered  to  those  members  of  the  Sandhurst  C.  C.  who  could 
cover  the  distance  in  xx  h.  The  weather  was  perfect,  and  the  roads  were  in  very  fair 
order,— the  first  14  m.  being  covered  in  x  h.  J.  W.  Tonkin  and  S.  Ream  also  accompanied 
him,  except  that  they  reached  M.  a  little  too  late  for  the  medal ;  while  M.  E.  Gilbert, 
the  fourth  member  of  the  party,  withdrew  near  Kyneton,  the  half-way  point,  because  hi» 
bicycle  broke,  in  fork,  head  and  tire.  The  first  of  the  club's  medals  was  won  by  T.  Goyae^ 
about  a  fortnight  earlier ;  and  the  third,  on  Nov.  19,  by  W.  Upstill,  who  wheeled  &om  S.  to 
M.,  in  i<^  h.,  ending  at  5. 15  p.  m.,  and  who  found  all  the  roads  in  fine  ooaidatioo. 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  -  563 

Until  the  close  of  '83,  the  only  longer  tour  in  Victoria  than  that  of  the  M.  B.  C,  in  Oct., 
'8a  {tfio m.,  already  described),  was  one  of  510  m.,  in  8  days,  accredited  to  A.  £.  Roberts ;  but  on 
Dec  23,  Rolaud  O.  Bishop,  who  had  not  then  completed  his  x6th  year,  began  a  fortnight's 
tour  of  662}  m.  (i2  days  of  actual  riding)  thus :  23rd,  South  Yarra  to  Geelong,  54 ;  24th,  Bun- 
inyoog,  47 ;  26th,  Wickliffe,  67 ;  27th,  Hamilton,  44 ;  2Sth,  Wannon  Falls  and  Penshurst,  41} ; 
a9th,  Warmambool,  45  ;  30lh,  Kalora,  46 ;  3xst,  Colac,  56  (first  14  ra.  to  Terang,  in  x  h.);  Jan. 
2nd,  Geeiong,  66;  3rd,  Melbourne,  52;  4th,  Keilor  and  back,  24;  5th,  Kyneton  and  back  to  S. 
Yarra,  108.  This  last  was  a  louger  day's  nde  than  any  on  his  two  years'  record,  8296  m.  in  62& 
days  (4176  m.  in  297  days  of  '82,  and  4120  ra.  in  331  days  of  '83) ;  and  I  've  already  noted  his 
best  straightaway  stay  in  the  saddle, — 52  m.  in  4^  h.,  G.  to  M.,  Dec.  14.  He  rode  a  54  in. 
Matchless  during  the  tour,  and  was  highly  pleased  with  it ;  and  he  was  accompanied  for  530  ra, 
by  Wm.  Harrisoa.  Previous  machines  ridden  had  varied  from  50  to  55  in. ;  but,  assuming  52  in. 
as  the  average  size  during  the  8296  m.,  he  estimated  that  he  had  taken  7,134,724  strokes  at  the 
pedals,  in  forcing  3,567,362  revolutions  of  the  driver,  and  208,684,080  revolutions  of  the  i3  in. 
rear  wheel.  The  following  is  a  summary  of  his  riding  days  and  mileage  for  each  month — ^ihe 
first  pair  of  numerals  standing  for  '82,  the  second  for  '83  :  Jan. — o,  o ;  29,  671 ;  Feb. — 10,  66 ; 
19,329;  Mar.— 30,  332;  27,400;  Apr.— 26,  443;  28,464;  May— 23,  289;  3».  373;  June— 30, 
331;  22,252;  July— 28,  329;  3o»3««;  Aug.— 28,  394;  3«.  »84;  Sept.— 30,  377 ;  28,275;  Oct, 
— 3».  463;  3«»  3«;  Nov.— 30,  426;  30,  309;  Dec— 31,  726J ;  25,  235.  Early  in  '84,  he 
removed  from  Melbourne  to  Hobart,  the  capital  of  the  island-colony  of  Tasmania,  and,  on 
Mar.  18,  wheeled  from  Snakeshanks  to  H.,  loi  m.,  in  xi  h.  X9min. ;  on  Sept.  4,  from  Perth 
to  H.,  112  m.,  in  10  h.  35  min.;  and,  in  '85,  Apr.  2  to  7,  329  m.  along  the  east  coast, — each  ride 
being  the  **  best  on  record  "  there.  His  letter  to  me  of  June  2,  '85,  said  :  "  My  riding  diary, 
to  May  24,  shows  a  total  of  X3,352  m.,  dating  from  Feb.,  '82,  when  I  took  my  first  ride,  at 
the  age  of  15.  My  longest  record  for  a  day  is  1x2  m.,  and  for  a  week  473  m.  I  have  ridden 
fax  4  tri.  races  and  won  3 ;  have  given  4  exhibitions  of  trick  riding,  at  Hobart  and  Lannceston ; 
now  hold  record  for  3,  4  and  5  m.  on  grass,  and  for  x  and  2  m.  on  board  track ;  have  started  at 
scratch  in  most  races,  and  won  trophies  to  value  of  $600.  I  now  ride  5X  in.  Rudge.  My  em- 
idoyroent  is  that  of  agent  for  the  Davis  Sewing  Machine  Co.,  which  has  offices  at  Hobart, 
Launceston,  Melbourne,  Sandhurst,  Geelong  and  Warmambool.  I  was  for  some  time  capL 
of  the  Mannion  C.  C,  of  this  town,  and  ssc.  of  the  Tasmanian  Cyclists'  Union,  and  was  the 
founder  of  both.     I  send  you  the  Tcumanian  News  of  June  6,  which  devotes  a  column  to  me." 

His  successor,  as  capt.  of  the  Marmion  C.  C,  Thos.  F.  Hallam,  wrote  to  me  thus  :  *'  I 
purchased  a  bicycle  Sept.  6,  '83,  when  I  was  18  years  old,  and  have  ridden  it  11,800  miles,  up  to 
this  present  day,  Aug.  xo,  '85,— my  longest  journey  being  100  m.,  in  xo  h.  38  min.,  through  a 
hilly  country,  with  light  winds  to  contend  against.  On  June  29,  '85,  I  won  the  50  m.  road-race 
of  the  club,  in  3  h.  50  m.,  the  fastest  time  ever  made  in  Tasmania,  though  3  m.  of  the  road  had 
been  newly  mstaled.  I  have  competed  in  21  other  races,  winning  13  first,  5  second  and  3  third 
prizes."  On  Sept.  2S,  '85,  he  rode  xoo  m.  straightaway,  in  9  h.  9  min.— being  2  min.  less  than 
the  record  ride  of  F.  W.  Briggs,  of  Warmambool,  Jan.  3X,  '84.  The  vice-capt.  of  the  same  club, 
P.  J.  Bflwen  (builder  and  contractor  of  Campbell  st.,  who  pledged  a  dozen  subscribers  to  thi» 
book),  thus  reported  to  me,  Aug.  28,  '85  :  **  There  are  160  members  now  belonging  to  the  4 
clubs  in  this  city,  the  Tasmanian  being  the  oldest,  with  38,  next  the  Marmion,  with  66,  the  City, 
with  25,  and  the  Hobart,  with  31.  Cycling  has  lately  been  making  rapid  strides  here,  as  a  popu- 
lar pastime.  Tlie  little  '  Excursionists'  Guide '  which  I  enclose  will  show  you  that  the  road 
stretching  northward  12 x  m.  across  the  island  to  Launceston,  our  second  important  port  and  the 
nearest  to  Melbourne  on  the  opposite  continent  '  is  one  of  the  best  in  the  world,  having  been 
built  by  convicts  when  this  was  a  penal  colony.  The  first  settlement  of  prisoners  was  made  here 
in  1803,  under  Lieut.  Bowen.  Townships  are  now  found  about  xo  m.  apart,  along  the  road, 
with  good  hotel  accommodation  at  most  of  them.  The  railway  between  H.  and  L.  is  133  m. 
long,  running  cars  of  the  American  style,  on  a  narrow  gauge  of  3}  ft.,  two  through  trains  daily 
in  each  direction,  at  a  speed  of  23  m.  per  h.'  The  starting  point  in  our  xoo  m.  rides  is  x2  m. 
from  L.  and  x  m.  9.  of  the  village  of  Perth,  and  the  finish  is  at  S.  Bridgewater,  9  m.  n.  of  H» 


564        '  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Our  club  oCEers  a  gold  medal  to  each  member,  the  first  time  he  covers  the  distance  inside  of  la  h. 
I  myself  did  this,  in  10  h.  48  min.,  Oct.  16,  '83,  only  3  mos.  after  learning  how  to  ride.  Six  ochem 
have  also  taken  the  medal :  T.  F.  Hallam,  J.  Needham  (10  h.  48  min.,  Oct.  16,  '83),  G.  Arm- 
ing, G.  Gregory,  T.  N.  Spong  and  R.  O.  Bishop.  In  the  50  m.  road-race  of  2  mos.  ago,  when 
a  medal  was  given  to  all  who  did  the  distance  in  5  h.,  I  reached  the  finish  in  4}  h.  — though  I 
had  a  broken  pedal  for  the  last  37  m.,  which  forced  me  to  walk  up  the  hills.  This  was  the  re- 
sult of  a  bad  ^1,  produced  by  some  miscreants*  placing  timber  right  across -the  road ;  and  I  *ve 
not  been  well  enough  to  do  much  riding  since.  The  best  50  m.  records  of  the  club  are  held,  in 
the  following  order,  by  T.  F.  Hallam,  C.  Barlow,  R.  O.  Bishop,  T.  N.  Spong  and  W.  Rice." 
IVheeling  of  Sept.  8,  *86,  mentioned  that  Bishop  had  recently  lowered  the  record  to  3  h.  44  min., 
though  making  a  stop  for  lunch.  The  first  long  trL  ride  on  the  island  was  taken  by  Edward 
Ash,  July  9-13,  *83,  H.  to  L.  and  back,  244  m.  An  entire  day  was  devoted  to  business  at  L., 
and  two  nights  were  spent  there, — the  first  and  fourth  nights  being  spent  at  Campbelltown,  81 
m.  from  H.  The  A.  C.  News  of  Jan.  30  and  Mar.  13,  *86  (pp.  188,  336)  gave  a  pleasant  report 
of  a  Christmas  tour  along  this  road,  by  W.  R.  Roberts,  of  Ballarat,  who  was  charmed  by  the 
grandeur  of  the  scenery,  especially  along  the  southern  half  of  it,  where  much  hill-climbing  was 
required.  The  steamship  passage  from  Melbourne  to  L.  was  24  h.  He  found  the  hotels  rather 
inferior  and  high-priced,  and  he  took  several  short  excursions  out  from  Hobart. 

New  South  Wales  sent  out  four  long-distance  tourists  from  its  capital,  Sydney,  in  '84 ;  and 
the  second  of  them,  James  Copland  (b.  Oct.  27,  '51)  covered  no  less  than  1282  m.  on  a  tricycle 
before  his  return.  His  tri.  ride  of  Oct.  16,  '83,  120  m.  in  20  h.  (incl.si  h.  of  rests),  comprised 
xoo  m.  in  16  h.  (incl.  3}  h.  of  rests),  and  was  called  "  the  longest  and  fastest  straightaway  tri. 
ride  in  Australia  "  at  the  close  of  '84,  by  a  writer  who  said  the  scene  thereof  was  "  \\  picked 
road  on  the  north  shore  at  Sydney."  Whether  this  phrase  was  designed  to  signify  a  course  of 
i^  m.  or  a  longer  one,  it  could  hardly  signify  a  real  straightaway  course  of  120  m.  Mr.  C.  wau 
ed.  of  the  Australian  Cyclist^  for  its  7  fortnightly  issues.  May  16  to  Aug.  8,  '85 ;  and  his  letter 
to  me,  enclosing  6  subs,  from  the  Sydney  B.  C. ,  Jan.  39,  '85,  was  as  follows :  "  Our  most  assiduous 
rider  here  is  W.  R.  George,  who  is  out  wheeling  daily,  all  the  year  round.  He  has  sons  and 
a  daughter, — grown  up,  and  all  cyclists, — and  we  sometimes  call  him  '  the  father  of  cycling  ia 
this  colony,'  besides.  The  Rev.  Geo.  Martin  and  Mr.  F.  G.  Sloper  are  two  other  elderly 
enthusiasts  of  the  tri.,  who  are  on  their  machines  nearly  every  day.  I  myself,  though  now  in  my 
34th  year,  rank  among  the  oldest  of  racing  men,  for  I  possess  first  prizes  won  in  bi.  races  of 
July,  '72,  in  England.  I  was  one  of  the  originators  of  the  old  Surrey  B.  C,  of  London,  and  am 
a  life-member  of  it.  My  height  is  5  ft.  11^  in.,  and  my  weight  is  180  lbs.  I  gained  i\  lbs.  dur- 
ing the  tour  to  Melbourne, — whereof  my  reports,  as  printed  in  ^.  C.  AVmr,  are  hereby  for- 
warded to  you.  Mr.  Alf.  Edwards,  who  took  the  same  trip  3  mos.  ahead  of  me,  says  he  wiQ 
write  you  an  account  direct."  I  regret  that  no  such  account  has  ever  come  to  me ;  bat  I  leam 
from  other  sources  that  Mr.  E.,  after  wheeling  for  a  day  or  more  from  S.,  took  train  for  43  m. 
to  Mittagong,  and  thence  drove  his  bi.  through  to  Melbourne,  about  500  m., — thus  making  the 
longest  straightaway  trail  then  knovm  in  Australia.  The  Sydney  B.  C.  honored  the  event  by 
voting  a  commemorative  medal,  which  was  presented  to  him  at  a  public  dinner,  Apr.  11,  *85. 
From  /I.  C  News  of  Aug.  30,  '84,  I  condense  Mr.  C.*s  13  days'  itinerary,  with  mileage,  thus  : 
"  Aug.  14,  Campbelltown,  33  (last  14  bad);  istfa,  Mittagong,  47  (last  27,  all  up-hill  and  last  16 
in  rain);  i6th,  Marulam,  37;  17th,  beyond  Goulbum,  25;  i8th,  Yass,  47;  19th,  Jugiong,  43; 
2oth,  Mundarloo,  46 ;  sist,  Billabong,  45;  22nd,  Albury,  57;  23rd  (crossed  the  border  into 
Victoria,  3  m.  from  A.),  Wangaretta,  45  (last  15  m.  in  2  h.  in  the  dark);  34th,  Violet  Town, 
44 ;  asth,  Seymour,  52 ;  36th,  Melbourne,  62  (through  continuous  rains  and  bitter  blasts  of 
wind).  The  weather  was  disagreeable  and  unfavorable,  except  for  two  days ;  and  of  the  roads 
traversed  (583  m.  by  Stanton's  log,  incl.  slight  detours),  xoo  m.  were  good,  400  ra.  middKmciD 
fair,  and  the  rest  utterly  unridable."  During  18  days'  stay  in  and  about  M.,  he  rodftia^j 
company  with  local  wheelmen,  who  treated  him  with  great  consideration,- 
through  16  m.  of  rain  on  his  arrival,  and  going  out  with  him  when  he  began  the 
3  p.  M.  of  Sept.  13,  as  far  as  Wallan,  30  m.    The  mileage  for  the  next  i  i  days  1 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS,  565 

tndalc,  4i!  ijlta,  Benalli,  jo;  i6Ih,  Chillem,  491  i7ih  (cTDiscd  Ihe  border  bridge  fron 
odoDga  inta  N.  S,  W,,iain.  irom  itan),  Bowna,  3;  ;  iSlh,  BiUibong,  41 1  iglh,  Cundagai,M 

ddedbybld  til]  in  urcleu  dowD'hill  ridioi);  10th,  BooUiani,  46  [ov^i  t»g  ranges  of  hilli) ; 
■I.  GunniDg,  46  (1aiIi6,i>om  ol  loute):  iind,  Marubm.  )i  (id  by  linteni}  1  ajrd,  Picton,  61 
]o  A.  H.  10  ID  p.  u.  ;  linl  iS  m.  WEie  bad,  bul  a  decline  oi  ijoo  fl.  id  the  laH  iS  m.  made 
ch  pleaaant  ridiog  that  even  a  thunder  shower  could  not  mar  Ibe  enjoyment)  \  >4tb,  Sydney, 
.  On  Ibii  lail  da;,  I  Haned  juit  aim  midoight  and  jot  oret  Mt.  Raiorback,  into  Ciunden, 
m.,  al  1.40;  camped  out  then  on  a  hotel  veranda  until  j,  then  rode  gn.  lo  Campbclltown, 


Adding  the  iSjm.  of  outward  trip,  and  it\ia.  made  between,  the  nhole  mileage  from  Aug.  1410 
Sept.  24  was  1182.  My  tool-bag  and  baggage  weighed  ij  lbs.  On  Ibe  outward  trip,  my  CheylcH- 
more  Club  tri,  went  through  wiihoul  any  breakage  or  loosening.  On  the  return,  I  used  a  '  two 
inck  Club,'  double  driver,  front  Meerer,  and  1  pcaJK  il  lor  ihowing  no  sign  c(  weaknets  for  Ibt 
l,<a  miles  Collowiug  the  accident  which  buckled  one  wheel.     Af  y  mackinloih  coit  also  got  wound 

ing  order  again,  (hough  tbe  coat  was  utterly  destroyed. " 

Fiife  days  behind  this  pioneer  tricycler,  on  his  outward  journey,  were  two  youthful  acqitaint- 
ancts  of  his,  from  the  Redfem  B.  C,  on  tHcycles,— Jai.  F.  Rugg,  its  secretary,  and  Geo.  L. 
Buddi,— who  printed  *  icpoit  of  their  loui  in  the  A.  C.  /fttn  of  Sepl.  13.  The  tittei  rode  a 
}a  in.  Columtna  (No.  414a),  which  be  had  been  using  for  a  years  previously  and  which  went 
through  without  mishap, — staying  safely  on  the  bridge  while  he  took  a  header  into  a  creek,  on 
Ihe  Mh  day  of  Ibe  lour.  On  the  previous  day,  his  companion,  who  rode  a  ji  In.  Club,  new, 
look  a  bad  header  on  a  sleep  down-grade,  disabling  the  brake  i  tad.  on  the  hna]  day,  his  spring 
piapped,  just  behind  the  saddle,  so  that  about  te  m.  of  "backbone  jolting"  bad  to  be  endured. 
"  DcspilE  the  bad  state  of  Ihe  roidi,  adverse  winda,  and  lack  of  previous  training,  both  rnjoytd 
the  tour  immensely  and  finished  in  perfect  heillh.  The  best  meal  of  the  Irip  was  had  al  Vin- 
cent's hotel  in  Colac  doc);  and  tKe  return  to  Sydney  was  made  by  express  train  (19  b.),  as  car 
leare-ol-absence  lasled  but  a  fonnighl."  The  total  mileage  (j8s  lor  ij  days,  incl,  6  m.  for 
detours)  was  divided  Ibus :    Aug.  iq,  S  a.  h.  to  (.4;  r,  h.,  Camden,  41  -,  aolb,  Miltagong,  36 

S,  Yass,  ;; (frost  and  Inlter  cold  11  start);  13rd,  7  la  6,  Jugiang,  99 ;  J4lh,  «.]o  toy,  Adelong 
Cnnng,  37 :  ijib,  B.ja  lo  g,  Kyamba,  46I  (tel.  starion;  no  Iialel)i  16th,  9  lo  4,  Germanlon, 
rf{Min);  i7th,9.jo  to  a..s,  Albury.  jSi  aSIb,  S  10  j,  Wangarelta,  47I  J9<h,  M!  »  J-SO,  Violet 
Town,  43  i  jolh,  i.jo  to  ;,  Avenal,  411  list,  7  a.  m.  to  it. 4j  p.  H.,  Melbourne,  7>-  The  tour 
■f  W.  Hume  and  H.  G.  Keefe,  al  the  end  of  Dec.,'S4  (descilbed  on  p.  s6i).  wia  Ihe  earliest  tn. 


I J  days,  and  had  dry 


idea  in  Ihe  weekly  Jfm 


S66 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


&»  Chronicle,  of  Stawell,  written  by  the  projector  of  the  tour,  M.  Thomfeldt,  and  giving 
full  details  of  the  670  m.  traversed.    He  alludes  to  himself  as  having  taken  a  losing  conti. 
build  a  brick  bridge  at  Sandhurst  ("  Bendigo"),  in  *58,  "  when  his  knowledge  of  the  1 
language  was  very  limited,"  and  when  he  "  used  to  congregate  with  his  compatriots,  on 
day  nights,  at  the  '  Stadt  Hamburg '  tavern,  and  take  part  in  the  strange  babel  of  tongue 
prevailed  there."    I  infer  from  this  that  h:  is  a  German,  aged  about  50;  and  I  hav(. 
recorded  (p.  562)  the  tri.  tour  taken  by  his  grown-up  daughter,  in  Oct.,  '85.    He  roc . 
pleasant  tri.  tour  of  his  own,  through  Western  Victoria,  in  the  summer  of  '85,  as  insp 
later  one ;  and  he  secured  as  a  companion  C.  H.  Lyne,  of  Ararat,  who  rode  a  Club  .^ 
while  he  himself  used  a  rear-steering  Cheylesmore  Club  tri.     Both  machines  were  as  (: 
finish  (after  about  750  m.)  as  at  the  start,  and  neither  rider  suffered  any  accident, — t..- 
the  tri.  once  upset  the  bi.  by  a  careless  collision.     "  Why  should  two  old  blokes  like  y- 
about  the  country  in  knickerbockers  and  on  them  things?  "  was  the  pleasant  greetii. 
side  landlady,  on  the  third  day ;  and  on  the  5th,  a  wagon-driver  whose  horses  took  f 
tri.,  seemed  greatly  amused  at  it,  when  he  got  them  under  control,  and  remarked  : 
you  don't  look  like  a  big  man,  you  must  have  a  great  stomach  to  go  tramping  about 
on  a  thing  like  that, — which  seems  to  be  a  horse  and  buggy  all  in  one."    A  good  s' 
indeed,  as  usual,  essential  to  pleasant  touring,  "  for  the  country  seemed  inundate.! 
beef,"  and  in  many  cases  not  even  that  delicacy  could  be  had ;  while  at  least  tw  ^ 
devoted  to  fighting  bed-bugs.    The  only  other  live  animals  encountered  were  "  ' 
and  a  very  large  iguana  " ;  though  a  dead  snake,  5  ft.  long,  gave  the  tri.  rider  a  gr 
he  suddenly  ran  over  it  in  the  road.    The  tourists  regulated  their  pace  simply  b^ 
fort,— being  too  old  for  any  silly  ambition  about  "  making  a  record  for  swiftness,' 
they  expected  in  advance  to  average  about  50  m.  a  day,  they  were  quite  content  ^■ 
average  of  40  m.    Their  itinerary  was  as  follows  :    Monday,  Mar.  8,  from  7  a. 
p.  M.,  Stawell  to  Moonambel,  40  m.  (very  tired  from  lack  of  previous  training  ;  v 
sandy  road) ;  9th,  Eddington  (sandy  and  then  good,  through  undulating  fields) ;  ■ 
(breakfasted  on  grapes  in  a  fine  orchard);  xith,  Rushworth,  a  large  town,  rcn^ 
after  54  m.  of  hard  traveling ;  x2th,  a  farm  house  within  5  m.  of  Violet  Town  ;  1 
14th,  Wodonga,  54  m.  (first  favorable  wind);  15th  (enterii%  N.  S.   W.,  by  ■ 
Murray,  with  no  sign  of  customs  officers),  Germanton,  43  m.  (detour  to  50  m 
fine);  i6lh,  private  house  called  Kelvin  Grove;  17th,  Gundagai,  50  m.,  by  1 
i8th,  Jugiong ;  19th,  Bowning,  3a  m. ;  20th,  Gunning ;  aist,  Marulam,  57  m.  (tlv 
at  noon,  "  the  prettiest  and  most  compactly-built  town  on  the  route  " ;  22nd. 
the  first  28  m.,  to  Picton,  6.30  to  10  a.  m.,  very  enjoyable ;  then  ash.  rest  b.  • 
Mt.  Razorback,  in  comparison  with  which  the  previous  hills  seemed  easy,  to  C^ 
finally,  after  taking  wrong  roads  in  darkness,  to  Liverpool,  a  total  of  6a'm.  ; 
ney  about  1.30  p.  m.,  escorted  for  the  last  16  m.  by  a  party  of  about  40  on  bi 
later,  steamer  was  taken  for  Melbourne  (a  ride  of  65  h.,  as  compared  to  19  h 
last  stage  of  the  journey  home  to  Stawell  was  wheeled  Apr.  6-8,  about  175  n. 
p.  M.,  an  exact  calendar  month  from  the  start.    "  In  spite  of  some  hard  ui. 
most  pleasant  experience.    We  saw  a  vast  tract  of  country,  and  saw  it  b 
kind  of  locomotion  would  enable  us  to  do ;  and  we  did  not  feel  in  the  leas- 
In  fact,  I  was  less  tired  the  last  day,  riding  62  m.,  than  the  first  day,  rid 


New  Zealand  lies  about  laoo  m.  s.  e.  of  Australia,  and  its  cycling  sea 
Mj4y,  though  riders  in  the  northern  districts  are  active  for  most  of  the  oil 
distinct  islands  which  comprise  the  colony,  North  Island  lias  Auckland  f 
Wellington  for  its  port  nearest  to  South  Island.    "  Pakeha."     the  C  ' 
JVkeginun's  GazeiU,yi)\o  has/' been  identified  with  the  pkstime 
•  colony,  writing  July  18,  '85,  said  :    "  Though  we  are  now  supposed 
weather  has  thus  far  been  so  exceedingly  mild  that  we  can  scarcely  t 


t. 


568  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICyCLE. 

face  was  good,  but  the  first  9  m.  led  up  hill,  and  the  descents  could  not  be  ridden,  for  want  of 
brake.  At  one  of  two  creek  crossings,  he  dropped  his  bi.  and  then  jumped  into  the  water ;  and 
a  similar  bath  had  been  taken  two  days  before,  in  trying  to  ride  through  a  creek.  Magnificent 
-views  of  rough  and  rugged  country  could  be  had  at  every  sharp  turn  in  the  mountaio'^oad. 
Napier,  his  objective  point,  323  m.  from  A.,  was  reached  at  5  p.  m.  of  Jan.  3,  after  a  30  m. 
journey,  half  of  which  was  along  the  gully  of  the  Kiwaka  creek  and  the  edges  of  the  Peune 
river,  where  constant  wading  was  necessary,  as  almost  50  crossings  had  to  be  made  within  12  m. 
The  only  other  route  was  the  "  telegraph  track,"  which  was  thought  to  be  even  more  diflicult. 
He  halted  a  day  in  N.,  to  get  his  brake  repaired,  and  talk  with  local  cyders  about  the  roads  to 
Wellington.  He  also  met  an  English  tourist,  W.  K.  Adam,  who  was  wheeling  in  the  opposite 
direction,  from  W.  to  the  hot  springs.  The  **  shingled  road  '*  out  of  N.  was  good  enough  to 
allow  19  m.  in  a  h., — ^the  last  5  m.  in  25  min., — ^and  then  a  stretch  of  22  m.  was  done  without  dis- 
mount, in  2^  h. ;  so  that  the  day's  record,  11  a.  m.  to  10  p.  m.,  ending  at  Takapo,  was  65  m., 
the  longest  of  the  tour,  though  it  included  a  bad  and  swampy  stretch  of  18  m.,  where  the  tourist 
lost  his  way  in  the  dark.  Next  day,  Jan.  6,  9.15  to  7.35,  he  rode  50  m.  to  Pahiatau,  *'haT> 
ing  nice  and  cool  wheeling  through  the  Foity  Mile  Bush  " ;  and  on  the  7th,  to  Masterton,  47 
m.,  in  s  h.  50  min.,  which  included  i  h.  of  stops.  He  took  train  there  to  Wellington,- intending 
to  wheel  back  next  day  to  M.,  over  the  Rimataka  hills ;  but,  as  rain  was  falling  then,  he  came 
back  by  train  as  far  as  Featherston,  and  thence  wheeled  through  Masterton,  and  along  his  for> 
mer  road  to  Eketahuna,  5s  m.,  11  a.  m.'  to  6  p.  m.  On  the  loth,  he  kept  along  his  old  course 
till  some  distance  beyond  Pahiatau,  and  then  turned  by  new  road  "  through  the  famous  Mana> 
watu  Gorge,  up  which  the  wind  was  blowing  great  guns,"  to  Fielding,  60  m.,  8.ao  to  6.15,  where 
he  took  train  to  Wanganui.  On  the  i  tth  and  12th,  he  rode  by  train  as  well  as  wheel,  and  on  the 
lath  also  by  boat,  from  New  Plymouth  to  Onehunga,  whence  his  cycling  friends  escorted  him 
home  to  Auckland.  Of  the  700  m.  estimated  as  a  total  for  the  19  days,  nearly  500  m.  were  done 
before  the  first  taking  of  train ;  and,  during  those  first  14  days,  the  repetitions  seem  not  to  have 
exceeded  50  m.  Mosquitoes  were  named  as  troublesome  on  the  loth,  and  his  waterproof  cape 
was  found  of  good  service  on  that  day  and  on  previous  occasions  of  rain.  The  places  where  he 
lodged  were  generally  alluded  to  as  "accommodation  houses."  In  reference  to  the  tourist 
whom  he  met  at  Napier,  Jan.  4,  W.  K.  Adam,  I  may  say  that  he  pushed  his  bicycle  thence  to 
Ohinemutu,  about  150  m.,  and,  after  seeing  the  hot  lakes,  took  coach  and  steamer  to  Auckland. 
Previously,  however,  he  had  wheeled  from  Masterton  to  Maketoke,  where  he  took  train  to  N. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  Oxford  Univ.  B.  C,  and  the  London  B.  C,  and  was  named  in  the 
Cyclist  of  Nov.  7,  '83,  as  having  ridden  43  m.  in  a  h.  20  min.  19  sec  (at  the  Crystal  Palace  tradi^ 
July  29,  *82),  which  was  then  a  "best  record." 

I  printed  in  the  H^keelol  Oct.  31,  '84,  a  four-column  report,  prepared  at  my  request  by  H. 
J.  Jenkins,  derk  in  the  Bank  of  N.  Z.,  concerning  a  23  h.  ride  of  170  m.  taken  by  himself  and 
F.  W.  Painter,  early  in  the  year  (only  one  of  many  which  the  pair  have  had  in  company),  and  I 
now  give  an  abstract  of  the  same  :  "We  started  from  C^ristcfaurch  at  4  a.  m.  of  Feb.  3,  for 
Waiau,  8$  ra.  due  north,— getting  to  Karapoi,  12  m.,  in  i  h.,  and  then  by  a  better  road  to  Luth> 
field,  at  6.40,  making  our  first  dismount  here  after  26  m.,  at  the  river  Kowai.  The  streams  in 
N.  Z.,  being  fed  by  snow  in  the  back  ranges,  are  for  long  periods  almost  dry,  and  at  other  times 
they  are  boiling  and  rushing  between  two  high  banks, — perhaps  i\  m.  apart, — and  are  impossi> 
ble  to  ford,  on  account  of  the  trees,  bowlders  and  all  sorts  of  diiris  sweeping  along.  We  found 
the  Kowai  very  low,  however,  and  had  no  trouble  in  fording  its  treacherous  bed ;  but  the  Wai> 
para,  11  m.  beyond,  was  deeper  and  swifter,  and  wet  us  to  the  waist,  as  we  waded  through. 
You  must  know  that  we  keep  on  our  shoes  and  stockings  at  such  fording  places,  and  dry  o£F  as 
we  whirl  along.  Beyond  the  river  we  reached  the  famous  Weka  Pass,  and  went  up  and  down 
a  multitude  of  spurs  along  a  20  ft.  road,  with  a  wall  of  stone  towering  on  one  side,  and  a  rocky 
slope  of  70  or  80  ft.  sheering  down  to  the  creek  on  the  other.  After  the  hills,  we 
Waikari,  46  ro.,  but  our  first  real  stopple  was  at  Hurunui,  57  m.,  just  before  11  o'dock, 
an  average  of  8  m.  per  h.  from  the  start.  A  good  breakfast  was  had  here  at  the  little  hold,  wmk 
Ibe  ride  was  resumed  at  ii  3a    (This  was  the  turning  point  in  the  114  in.  run  wbidi  Mr.  ll» 


!_ 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  569 

Idd  yoa  we  took  with  him,  at  an  earlier  date,  and  which  remained  until  now  the  longest  day's 
record  in  N.  Z.)  The  road  virtually  ends  at  H.,  but  we  pushed  on,  across  the  '  riddtings  of 
ereation,'  without  seeing  a  house  or  even  a  wire  fence,  to  the  little  clump  of  buildings  called 
Rotherham,  13  m.;  and  then,  by  10  m.  of  the  roughest  riding  I  ever  experienced,  to  Waiau,  the 
goal  of  our  hopes,  at  3  P.  m.  We  were  met  by  a  cavalcade  of  nearly  all  the  inhabitants,  at  the 
grand  new  bridge,  about  t  m.  from  W.,  and  given  a  triumphal  entry  into  town, — some  one  in  H. 
having  telegraphed  our  approach,  quite  to  our  surprise.  The  hotel-keepers  in  both  places  de- 
clined to  take  any  pay  for  our  refreshments,  so  great  was  the  popular  interest  in  the  affair. 
Starting  again  at  3.40,  we  reached  H.  at  7,  just  after  sundown  ;  rode  Weka  Pass  in  the  dark,  just 
before  the  moon  came  up ;  forded  the  Waipara  in  utter  darkness,  and  the  Kowai  at  1 1.30 ;  passed 
Karapoi  at  1.30,  and  finished  fust  before  3  a.  m., — having  done  170  m.  within  44  h.,  or46  m.  more 
than  the  best  previous  record  in  N.  Z.  My  next  long  ride  was  on  Good  Friday,  to  Akaroa,  60 
B.,  in  company  with  F.  Cooper  and  W.  Skinner ;  but  the  head  of  my  British  Challenge  cracked 
then,  so  that  I  had  to  get  it  and  myself  brought  home  by  carrier, — arriving  Sunday  night,  soon 
after  my  friends,  who  rode  back.  Canterbury,  in  which  our  city  lies,  has  a  greater  stretch  of  flat 
country  than  the  neighboring  provinces, — there  being  some  250  m.  contained  on  its  jMsm — ^but 
there  are  no  good  roads  for  more  than  half  the  distance.'*  In  "  Pakeha's  "  letter  of  May  2a, 
*86,  it  was  said  that,  "  at  the  opening  of  the  year,  F.  W.  Painter,  A.  Lowry  and  — — .  Parker 
took  a  10  days'  tour  of  380  m.  from  Christchurch  to  Hokitika,  or  across  the  entire  country. 
Many  large  rivers  had  to  be  forded  and  mountain  ranges  crossed,  so  that  the  journey  proved  one 
•f  considerable  difficulty.  In  fact,  though  previous  tours  had  been  made  on  that  route,  the  full 
distance  had  never  before  been  traversed." 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a  personal  call.  Sept  20,  '86,  from  a  native  New  Zealander, 
who,  having  subscribed  for  this  book,  two  years  before,  decided  at  last  that  he  must  make  the 
16,000  m.  journey  to  New  York,  in  order  to  make  sure  of  getting  it.  Incidentally,  he  may  de- 
cide to  reside  here  for  a  few  months  or  yeau^,  after  really  securing  the  volume, — engaged  in 
minor  business  affairs  of  his  own.  He  is  a  native  of  Christchurch,  though  his  parents  were 
bom  in  England,  and  he  had  never  left  his  island-home  until  he  sailed  for  San  Francisco,  last 
July.  I  refer  to  Wm.  H.  Langdown  (b.  Nov.  i,  '64),  ex-Capt.  of  the  Pioneer  B.  C,  a  fairly 
recognizable  likeness  of  whom  was  printed  in  the  Whetlnun*s  GaaetU  (Aug.,  p.  86),  apropos  of 
his  competing  in  the  autumn  races  at  Springfield  and  elsewhere.  His  letter  of  Sept.  30,  reply- 
ing to  my  appeal  for  statistics,  is  as  follows  :  "  From  Oct.,  '78,  to  Dec,  '82,  when  I  rode  a  hi., 
10  m.  daily,  to  and  from  school,  I  must  have  covered  at  least  6000  m.,  for  I  did  not  miss  riding 
a  dozen  times,  and  I  used  to  do  about  40  m.  on  Wednesday  and  Saturday  afternoons.  First  long 
day's  ride  was  in  Apr.,  '81,— 66  m.,  whereof  I  did  30  without  dismount.  Longest  day's  ride  I 
ever  took  was  84  m.,  on  Dec.  8,  '83,  whereof  57  were  done  in  4  h.  34  min.,— including  time  taken 
in  walking  over  two  river  beds.  Month  with  longest  mileage,  Nov.,  '84, — 82s  m.  First  hi., 
bought  Oct.,  '78,  had  no  name ;  neither  had  the  second,  bought  Nov.,  '79;  3rd  was  a  special 
Gub;  4th,  a  Gentleman's  Qub;  sth,  a  51  in.  D.  H.  F.  Phemier ;  6th,  an  Excelsior  tri. ;  7th,  a 
52  in.  D.  E.  H.  F.  Excelsior.  On  the  latter,  I  rode  8940  m.— Nov.  i,  '84,  to  Oct.  30,  '8$,—  in- 
cluding my  longest  tour  (558  m.)  as  follows ;  Left  Wellington  Sept.  5,  '85,  carrying  8  lbs.  luggage 
m  knapsack,  and  rode  to  Upper  Hnit,  where  I  took  train  to  Featherston,  and  rode  from  there 
to  Masterton,  making  day's  total  wheeling  48  m.  by  McDonnell's  cyclom.  I  had  tested  this 
several  times,  riding  slow  and  riding  fast,  over  good  and  bad  roads,  and  had  always  found  it  cor- 
rect when  compared  with  the  m.-stones.  On  6th,  rode  to  Woodville,  so  m-  (walked  9) ;  7th, 
Takapan,  44  m.  (walked  8);  Sth,  Hastings,  48  m.,  15  of  which  I  had  to  walk  at  one  stretch, 
fth,  Napier,  12  m.  Stayed  here  until  17th,  at  $  p.  m.,  but  reached  Waipawa,  41  m.,  that  same 
sight.  From  here  to  Opunake,  I  had  a  strong  head  wind,  and  it  took  me  ti  days  to  do  234  m. 
One  day  I  walked  18  m.  without  mounting,  and  UM»3Miia<lM4l  •  44  ni.  stretch  I  had  to 
go  without  coming  across  a  hoteL  OiMrjM|A^HM|^BHHHMMBf  Hw  wind.  During 
the  whole  trip  only  had  3  days  ^rfM^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^BBttHH^M  to 
Plymouth,  the  ditHHi^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B||||^  voda 

«rt  la  m.  to  Stratford,  and  «M 


S70 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


day's  ride.    When  I  had  covered  36  m.,  at  8  a.  m.,  my  crank  broke  and  I  had  to  take  the  can 
for  Wanganai  and  the  steamer  from  there  to  Wellington.    My  total  of  separate  or  unrepeated 
road  was  454  m.    The  only  mishap  of  the  tour  was  a  spill  caused  by  a  bullock's  kicking  roe  off 
the  machine.    This  bent  the  crank  and  afterwards  caused  it  to  break.    During  'the  last  day's 
ride  I  had  to  walk  6  m.  on  the  car  track,  the  road  being  impassable.   This  was  the  first  bi.  tour  ever 
made  across  the  North  I.'*  (Population  of  N.  Z.,  500,000 ;  with  1462  m.  of  r.  r.  and  41 1 1  m.  of  tel.) 
"Australian  Pictures,"  by  Howard  Willoughby,  of  the  MtUnmrnt  A  rgus^  with  lai^  map  and 
107  illust.  from  photographs  and  sketches  (8vo,  doth  and  gilt,  %%.  50),  was  named  as  a  "  new  book," 
in  Oct.,  '86,  by  Scribner  &  Welford,  of  N.  Y.,  whose  adv.  says  :    "  Tlie  author  is  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  scenery,  life,  products  and  business  capacities  of  the  different  parts  of  Aus- 
tralia, and  lias  tried  to  award  adequate  space  to  each  of  the  colonies."    The  Nation  (Oct.  31, 
'86,  p.  331)  thus  alludes  to  Percy  Clarke's  book,  called  "  The  '  New  Chum '  in  Australia" 
(London  :  Virtue  &  Co.)  :    "  Though  his  travels  were  not  very  extensive,  he  had  opportunities 
to  see  life  there  under  nearly  all  its  conditions,  in  the  cities,  at  the  mines,  on  a  sheep  station, 
and  on  a  sugar  plantation  (in  Queensland) ;  and  he  devotes  a  final  chapter  to  Tasmania.    He 
describes  station  life  with  considerable  graphic  power,  and  is  least  effective  in  his  accounts  of 
Melbourne  and  Sjrdney,  though  he  gives  a  fair  idea  of  their  appearance  and  characteristics." 
He  seems  not  to  have  visited  New  Zealand ;  and  though  I  think  another  traveler  has  recently 
printed  a  book  about  that  double-island,  I  cannot  now  find  any  exact  reference  to  it  on  my  files. 
I  may  add,  however,  for  the  guidance  of  the  numerous  wheelmen  whom  a  perusal  of  this  chap- 
ter will  naturally  send  across  the  Pacific  Ocean,  that  "  N.  Z."  is  given  as  fair  a  show  as  the 
other  colonies  in  the  A  ustralasian^  published  in  New  York  every  fourth  Saturday,  just  before 
the  closing  of  each  direct  mail  for  those  regions,  and  presumed  to  contain  the  latest  information 
Useful  for  visitors  to  the  same.   I  write  in  the  present  tense,  though  I  have  not  happened  to  see  a 
specimen  of  the  paper  since  Dec,  '84.    It  was  then  issued  by  F.  W.  Gade,  at  40  West  Broadway. 


As  an  appropriate  ending  to  the  chapter,  I  give  the  final  9  months'  travels,  through  Persia, 
Afghanistan,  India,  C^ina  and  Japan,  of  T.  Stevens, — the  first  two  stages  of  whose  marvelous 
Tound-the-world  bi.  tour  (San  Francisco  to  Boston,  3700  m.,  Apr.  aa  to  Aug.  4,  '84 ;  Liverpool 
to  Teheran,  4300  m.,  May  a  to  Sept.  30,  '85)  have  been  detailed  at  the  opening  of  Chap.  30, — 
pp.  473-841 — ^which  I  wrote  a  year  ago.  "  Starting  out  from  T.  on  Mar.  10,  '86,  with  summer 
helmet  and  low  shoes,  I  reached  Meshed  on  the  30th,  through  2  ft.  of  snow, — after  an  almost 
continuous  struggle  with  the  elements,  which  made  all  troubles  of  the  previous  8000  m.  seem  like 
child's  play  in  comparison.  The  route  would  be  fairly  agreeable  in  pleasant  weather,  for  much 
good  wheeling  surface  would  be  found,  and  no  difficult  mtns.;  but,  in  March,  Khorassan  is  a 
fearful  country.  After  a  rain-storm,  streams  of  liquid  mud  come  down  from  the  mtns.  and 
spread  over  the  plain,  forming  an  almost  impassable  barrier  to  a  cycler.  I  have  forded  as  many 
as  50  streams  in  a  day ;  and  the  wind  blows  worse  than  it  does  in  Wyoming  or  Nebraska.  The 
changes  in  temperature  are  also  sudden  and  violent.  On  Mar.  28,  when  45  m.  from  M.,  I  got 
caught  in  a  blizzard  that  would  docredit  to  Minnesota.  In  the  midst  of  it,  I  fell  down  in  a  stream, 
dropped  the  bi.  and  wetted  everything.  With  clothes  frozen  stiff,  hands  numbed,  one  finger 
slightly  frost-bitten,  and  the  blizzard  at  its  worst,  I  had  to  wade  through  snow-drifts,  ford  other 
streams,  and  toil  on  over  the  desolate  mtns.  for  miles,  before  even  the  meanest  shelter  was  finally 
'reached.  Next  morning,  it  was  barely  possible  to  struggle  ahead,  along  the  single  trail  broken 
by  pack-animals  through  a  ft.  of  snow ;  but  by  noon  the  sun  grew  uncomfortably  hot,  making 
ankle-deep  mud  and  slush,  through  which  I  trundled  the  bi.  for  14  m."  On  Mar.  8,  the  Rusnan 
minister  at  Teheran  had  assured  Stevens  that  no  official  obstacles  should  hinder  his  passage 
through  Siberia ;  and  he  therefore  intended  to  steer  for  Irkutsk,  and  thence — if  the  s.  route  for 
Pekin  seemed  utterly  impracticable — reach  the  Pacific  by  way  of  the  Amoor  valley.  Merv, 
Bokhara,  Samarkand,  Tashkent  and  Tomsk  were  intermediate  places  which  he  had  planned  to 
touch  at  during  this  "  journey  of  6000  m.  over  camel-paths  and  desert  wastes  " ;  but,  even  be- 
fore he  got  to  Meshed,  the  Russian  authorities  sent  a  messenger  to  notify  him  that  he  could  not 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


S7I 


pass  beycmd  their  frontier.    So,  after  a  week's  delay,  he  turned  s.,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  reach 
India.     His  itinerary  for  the  next  2}  mos.  was  mailed  to  me  from  Constantinople,  June  16,  and  J 
quote  as  follows  :    "  Apr.  7,  Meshed  to  Sherifabad,  hilly ;  8th,  mostly  hilly,  with  some  excellent 
going,  to  wayside  caravansary ;  9th,  Torbet-i-Haiderie,  mountainous ;  loth,  splendid  wheeling, 
benighted  in  desert ;  nth,  Kaklu,  some  sand,  some  good  gravel ;  12th,  Nukhab,  bad  mountains; 
13th,  small  hamlet,  average  fair  wheeling ;  z4th,  Birjand,  300  m.  from  M.,  good  wheeling ;  z5th, 
Ali-abad  (guest  of  Ameer  of  Seistan) ;  i6lh,  Darmian,  bad  mountains ;  17th,  Tabbas,  across  a 
plain,  fairly  ridable ;  iSth,  mountainous  journey  to  huts  on  edge  of  the  desert ;  Z9th,  enter 
Afghanistan  and  camp  out  on  Dasbt-i»na-oomed  ('  Desert  of  Despair ') ;  20th,  nomad  camp,  half 
the  wheeling  fair,  much  of  it  rough ;  21st,  bad  sand-hills  after  leaving  camp,  reach  a  village  near 
Harud ;  aand,  Ghalikue,  irrigating  ditches  and  cultivated  land ;  23rd,  nomad  camp,  good  wheel- 
ing on  gravel  plain;  24th,   Farrah,  about  200  m.  from  Birjand."    Here  the  Governor  of  F. 
arrested  him,  and  sent  him  back,  under  escort  of  Afghans,  to  Herat,  160  m.,  25th  to  30th.    For 
half  this  distance,  to  Subgowan,  on  the  27th,  he  found  most  of  the  wheeling  fairly  good,  though 
rather  flinty ;  but  for  the  final  80  m.  thence  to  H.  he  and  the  bi.  were  carried  on  horses,  and  1 1 
spokes  were  broken  from  the  front  wheel  by  an  attempt  of  the  carrying  horse  to  roll  upon  it. 
Having  6  extra  spokes,  he  managed  to  partly  repair  the  damage,  and  he  used  the  machine  in  this 
shape  for  the  next  680  m.  to  the  Caspian  Sea.    During  9  days'  delay  at  H.,  he  wrote  to  Col. 
Ridgway,  of  the  British  Boundary  Commission,  asking  his  intercession  for  a  permit  to  cross  the 
lew  hundred  ra.  between  that  place  and  India;  but  Col.  R.'s  only  answer  was  to  instruct  the 
Oovemor  of  H.  that  he  be  escorted  back  into  Persia.     So,  on  May  10,  he  resumed  the  back- 
ward journey,  by  a  road  about  \  ridable,  to  a  village  whose  name  his  Afghan  guard  refused  to 
tell ;  on  nth,  to  a  "  water  umbar,"  with  very  little  wheeling ;  on  12th,  by  bad  road  to  camp  in 
Herirud  jungle ;  and  on  13th,  by  fair  riding,  to  Kariez,  100  m.  from  Herat.    Here  the  Afghans 
released  him,  after  19  days'  arrest ;  and  on  14th,  he  kept  on  alone,  through  Persia,  to  nomad 
camp;  on  15th,  to  Furriman,and  on  i6th,  to  Meshed, at  z  p.  m., — thus  covering  160  m.  of  good 
road  in  2^  days,  and  completing  a  vain  circuit  of  about  920  m.,  which  began  Apr.  7,  at  M.     "  The 
next  300  m.  to  Sharood,  offered  a  decent  road  the  whole  distance  and  no  bad  mtns.,  so  that  I 
reached  S.  in  8  dajrs,-— the  nightly  halts  being  as  follows  :  May  19,  caravansary ;  20th,  village  near 
Nishapo<Mr;  31st,  Lafaram;  aand,  water  nmbar;  a3rd,  Mazinan;  a4th,  camped  out  near  cara- 
vansary ;  35th,  camped  out.    From  S.  to  Bander  Guz,  the  port  on  Caspian  Sea  where  I  embarked 
June  4,  was  a  4  days'  journey  of  lao  m., — the  first  part  of  it  by  fearful  trail  over  the  mtns., 
with  mule  carrying  the  wheel,  to  Asterabad,  May  28-30 ;  and  on  the  31st  I  reached  B.  G.    The 
rest  of  my  route  is  shown  thus :    Jtme  6,  Baku;  7th,  Tiflis;  8th,  Batoum ;  15th,  Constantino- 
ple."   OuiiMg  for  Sept.  (p.  671)  printed  a  letter  dated  at  C,  June  24,  from  Ernest  Raleigh,  who 
<lescribes himself  as  "an  unhappy  and  discomfited  tourist,  forbidden  to  travel  anywhere  beyond 
Meshed,"  and  says  he  "  therefore  traveled  back  with  Stevens,  from  M.  to  the  Caspian,  whence, 
after  many  days,  we  finally  turned  up  at  Constantinople."    He  declares  that  the  pusliing  of  a 
bicyde  acrow  Afghanistan  to  Farrah — "  including  a  clear  120  m.  of  howling  wilderness  which 
no  European  had  heretofore  traversed  in  its  entirety" — was  "one  of  the  most  adventurous  feats 
of  modem  times";  and  he  speaks  with  sarcasm  of  the  "strained  diplomacy"  which  caused 
S.  to  be  turned  back  when  he  had  thus  "  penetrated  to  within  370  m.  of  the  British  out-posts." 
Thus,  the  middle  of  June,  '86,  found  Stevens  again  on  the  edge  of  Europe,  at  the  same  dty 
which  he  first  reached  July  2,  '85,  and  from  which  he  had  sailed  75  m.  to  Ismidt,  Aug.  zo  (mis- 
printed "Aug.  12  "  on  p.  482),  to  begin  the  stretch  of  Z576  m.  ending  at  Teheran,  Sept.  30. 
Daring  the  3  mos.  of  his  return  wanderings  between  T.  and  Constantinople,  he  seems  to  have 
pushed  the  bi.  nearly  aooo  m.     On  July  3,  '86,  he  wrote  from  Suez  :    "  I  expect  the  steamer,  on 
which  I  take  passage  to  India,  to  arrive  here  to-morrow  or  next  day.    The  monsoon  season  will 
be  in  full  swing  when  I  reach  Kurrachee,  but  I  don't  know  yet  whether  it  will  delay  my  start 
acrora  India."    Writing  from  K.,  July  36,  he  said  he  was  in  good  health  and  was  about  to  start 
on  a  good  road  straight  for  Calcutta ;  and  he  announced  his  arrival  there,  in  letter  of  Sept.  14, 
thus  :    "  My  tour  has  been  accomplished  in  the  season  when  all  Europeans  who  can  possibly 
from  businasft  aro  up  in  the  hill  stations,  and  when  exposure  and  much  exertion  are  con- 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


kid  nK  up  for  a  couple  of  day*  it  Benaro.  This  is  mjnhy  <^  mntioa  ddIj  a*  bdof  Ihe  fim 
occasion  oa  the  entire  journey  that  I  have  had  anything  ippraacbing  a  day^i  illfien,  or  even  a 
day'i  indi^HnitioO'  AlLogciher,  it  ii  reEarded  ai  remarkable  by  the  EngSiah  in  Calcutta  llm  1 
ban  InTCned  14110  m.  of  Indian  load  on  a  incycle  u  tbii  leauD  of  Ihe  year  and  ocaped  wuh  only 

Lower  Benial  thedoudi  were  hnveiing  neai  the  Iree  tope;  when  it  nun'l  pouring  laio  it  wa 
diiziliDg,  and  (he  roadi  were  ahallow  Btreanu.  WhaL  with  the  profuae  pej^irarion,  the  rain  and 
Ihe  ehceuively  humid  atmosphere,  a  dry  thread  of  clothing  was  entirely  out  of  the  qivstioo.  I 
passed  IhnHigh  djstncls  where  the  natives  were  dying  ai  a  fearlul  rale,  with  a  pccnlivfy  iiia]i(- 
oant  type  of  fever.  My  own  immunity  from  serioui  tllneia  1  t^ndit  to  the  daily  cxenuc  It  imHa 
be  this,  because,  from  sheer  necessity,  1  have  daily  drank  iudificTmr  water,  slept  in  damp  dotbes, 
and  commilttd  varioua  other  indiicretions  iuacparable  frmn  a  bicyde  loin-  through  IwKa  in  Angut 
and  September.     Notwilhiunding  these  discomforts  and  drawbacks,  there  has  been  all  (long  a 

most  part  as  an  asphalt  pavement,  as  well  as  in  Ihe  many  intereiling  objects  and  equally  intemt- 
ing  pH^le,  BO  different  from  any  other  country.  From  Lahore  10  Sassenw,  a  distance  of  abna 
■(■»  m.,  the  road  may  tnithtully  be  described  as  the  tnest  in  the  worid.  II  is  perfectly  Irrd. 
metaled  with  hmkak.  which  makes  a  smoolh,  cemenl-like  surface,  and  for  a  good  paction  of  ibe 
way  it  is  no  eiaggenitian  Id  call  it  an  arenue.  Through  Ihe  Bengal  hills  il  is  less  level,  and  is 
metaled  with  rock  ;  the  drenching  monsoon  rains  have  washed  away  the  earth,  and  left  tbe  sur- 
face rough  and  trying  an  a  wheel.     My  stay  in  Calcuiu  will  be  but  three  or  tonr  days,  as  I  am 


saw 

him  well  started  by  boat  across  Ihe 

broad. 

w«i  perhaps  lucky  that  he  was  tu 

nedbai 

nlinue  his  Tide,  tbe  chances  were 

niavor 

and 

reralHr;  or  he  might  have  succu 

mbed  1 

anived  here  eariy  In  June,  and  Ihe  ha 

dshipsl 

ha« 

been  terrible.     Indeed,  the  actual 

hardsh 

«ry 
very 

ittle  of  that,  at  times),  wet  dotbe 

.mosi; 

umerous  to  mention,  be  keeps  his 

Oct 

14,  he  reached  the  British  consul 

neaiK 

hai  on  iBIh,  and  Nagasaki  (Japan)  on 

ricate  mate  of  Hacks  ihniugh  the 

Hce.fie] 

ing 

lui  the  Pe-Kang  rirer  and  the  rodly  mtn 

Mee 

and 

ng  pass,  into  the  province  of  Kia 
wheelwImywaydownloKin-g 

1'^. 

gale 

of  Ihe  chief  magimale.     After  m 

dnighl 

I  was  spirited  away  in  a  boat,  under  guai 
allowed  me  to  wheel,  hut  passed  me  on  da 
where,  by  much  penuahon,  1  ahtained  lea 
■till  with  an  eicarl,"  In  Japan,  however 
"  officials  and  people  vied  with  each  other 
Dee.  ly)  "seemed,  in  compaiison.  like  J 
Yokohama,  D«.  i>,  he  reached  San  Fran 


SUMMARY  BY  STATES. 

Under  this  heading,  I  or^inally  planned  to  present  not  only  a  special 
"  index  by  counties  "  to  such  roads  of  each  State  as  the  book  might  describe ; 
but  also  complete  references  to  road-reports  which  have  been  printed  in  the 
cycling  press  (giving  date  and  page  of  each,  with  abstracts  of  the  more  im- 
portant] ;  a  digest  of  all  similar  information  prepared  for  me  by  private  cor- 
respondents 1  and  a  list  of  maps,  guide-books,  local  histories  and  other  publi- 
cations of  possible  use  to  the  tourist  in  any  given  State.  Such  a  chapter 
would  needs  be  so  very  long  and  laborious,  however,  that  1  End  myself  obliged 
to  substitute  for  it  something  of  smaller  scope.  When  I  begin  writing  this 
(Nov.  iz,  '86),  not  only  have  the  previous  569  pp.  been  electtotyped,  but  also 
Chaps.  34  to  41,  comprising  the  last  no  pp.  of  the  book,  which  thus  already 
contains  four  times  the  nuTnt>er  of  words  originally  intended.  For  the  short- 
comings of  this  latest- written  chapter,  the  promise  of  "  My  Second  Ten  I'hou- 
sand"  is  the  best  excuse  and  remedy  which  I  can  oiler ;  and,  if  1  ever  print 
such  a  book,  I  design  that  it  shall  possess  a  complete  "  county  index  "  to  all 
the  roads  described  in  both  the  volumes.  Contributors  of  information  which  I 
have  been  regretfully  forced  to  omit  from  this  chapter,  may  rest  assured  that 
It  has  not  been  thrown  away,  for  I  have  carefully  filed  it  all,  to  take  a  second 
possible  chance  in  "  z  X.  M."  In  the  roll  of  States  now  given,  the  references 
which  immediately  follow  the  name  of  each  are  of  minor  importance,  signify- 
ing simply  that  its  name  was  printed  on  the  specified  pages.  A  numeral 
higher  than  764  (1.  r.,  the  last  one  given  in  each  case)  shows  where  the  State's 
subscribers  to  this  book  ma^  be  found,  in  the  "Directory  of  Wheelmen." 

UaIHR:  t,.i),la,ji,  4>,}a,99,  101,  iji,  I7J,  a46,l«,  19s,  JJ),  1S4.1JO.  JH-t),  S^S.  Sjo. 
591,  194,  6af,  iio,  611,  618,617,  £)i,  «6i,  76s-6e.    Chap.  XX..  "In  the  Down-Eul  Fogi" 

/—  •.!  ^11.  -1  — . ;.i.  tr    .    •!■• — 111,  •. ...  EMIpflrt  to  Ctlaii,  igm.i  Lubec  to 

n.  o!  other  roub,  and  a  toliil  wtutlinf 
7-S9i  30  ID,  of  good  shore  road,  p.  174; 
Valley  "  wu  Iho  nulc  ol  the  lecond 


Jlo 

).«hi(heodeda.B«.on. 

I, 

hink 

pri. 

r>  the  Bi.  Wtr/JfSc 

pl,  . 

»,!>■ 

IIOU 

Botloo  waxhete. 

1  of  rain,  Ihough  the  inlet 

ilion 

™ 

tbelj 

1.1  J  m.  10  A.    On  J 
m,;  jiU,  to  Skowl 

oth.i 

dier 

Ion, 

half 

«y);  >nd.  10  Fork!  ol  Ih* 

ad 

larmii 

i^run.alanEahillii 

;at< 

.w- 

574 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


looking  the  river,  with  high  slopes  above,  and  lofty  trees  forming  an  archway  over  a  road-bed 
fit  for  a  park."  Sunday  was  spent  here,  and  a  visit  paid  to  the  picturesque  Moxey's  Falls,  95 
ft.  high.  On  4th,  a  return  was  made  to  Bingham,  and  on  sih,  to  Skowhegan,  by  new  route,, 
on  other  side  of  river  (dinner  at  North  Anson),-r-mist  and  rain  on  this  last  day  following  6  days 
of  pleasant  weather.  Rev.  H.  F.  Fuller,  of  Chicago,  printed  a  sketch  of  this  trip,  in  Wheel  of 
Oct.  10,  showing  that  151  m.  were  ridden.  A  paragraph  of  Aug.,  '85,  gave  the  4  days*  mileage 
of  a  Boston  man,  F.  W.  Heymer,  in  the  same  region,  thus  :  Waterville  to  Forks  of  Kennebec^ 
42I ;  Moose  River,  46 ;  Marlow,  31 ;  St.  Joseph,  3S.  The  two  latter  towns  are  in  Canada,  and 
he  took  train  from  St.  J.  to  Quebec.  "  From  the  lake  in  the  mountains  to  the  mountains  by  the 
lea  "  was  the  characterization  of  the  third  annual  tour,  whose  projector,  F.  A.  Elwell,  sent  rae 
this  report :  "By  far  the  most  successful  of  all.  Here  is  its  summing  up  :  A  pleasant  party 
of  30 ;  perfect  weather ;  the  finest  scenery  in  Maine ;  and  the  best  130  m.  of  straightaway  wheel . 
ing  I  ever  experienced.  You  know  my  ideal  of  these  tours  is  enjoyment,  pure  and  simple, — noC 
to  '  cover  *  a  big  stretch  of  country  at  speed,  but  to  see  what  is  worth  seeing  at  leisure.  W^ 
arranged  to  take  our  meals  together  at  specified  times  and  places ;  and  our  baggage-wagon  foU 
lowed  in  the  rear,  to  provide  against  accidents ;  but  we*  chose  our  own  companions  on  the  road, 
and  went  as  we  pleased,  fast  or  slow,  without  any  attempt  at  regularity.  Saturday  afternoon 
and  the  whole  of  Sunday  were  spent  most  delightfully  at  Moosehead  Lake, — sailing,  fishing, 
church-going,  c'.imbing  Mt.  Kineo  and  the  like,  as  each  one  pleased, — ^and  the  Mt.  K.  Hotel 
where  we  stayed  was  a  very  fine  one.  On  Monday,  July  20,  we  began  our  5  days*  leisurely  ride 
to  the  sea-coast  at  Mt.  Desert,  and  went  only  14  m.,  Greenville  to  Monson,  through  magnificent 
scenery, — the  road  being  excellent  exctfpt  that  2  or  3  big  hills  had  to  be  walked  up  and  down. 
The  wind  favored  us,  and  our  leader  reached  M.  in  i]  h.  Next  forenoon,  aist,  we  jogged  on 
to  Dexter,  17  m. ;  and  on  22nd,  to  Bangor,  28  m.,  through  fine  farming  country,  with  read 
smooth  enough  for  12  m.  per  h. ;  24th,  to  Ellsworth,  aS  m.,  on  road  not  quite  so  good;  35th,  to 
Bar  Harbor,  24  m.,  entering  the  town  in  a  body  at  11.30  a.  m.  Just  then,  the  weather  grew 
very  hot,  and  we  were  glad  to  vary  our  enjoyment  during  Saturday  afternoon  and  Sunday  by  try> 
ing  the  elevated  r.  r.  to  the  top  of  Green  mtn.,  or  riding  in  buck-boards,  sail-boats  or  canoes. 
We  took  steamer  homeward  to  Portland  on  Monday,  and  thus  pleasantly  terminated  the  tour. 
At  Bangor  we  were  escorted  in  by  the  local  wheelmen,  and  halted  a  day  to  attend  their  races,  a 
public  reception  and  a  moonlight  ride  on  the  Penobscot,  Maine's  largest  river. " 

W.  B.  Page's  report :  "  On  July  33,  '86,  7  a.  m.  to  8.15  p.  m.,  I  went  from  Bridgeton  to 
Augusta,  71  m.,  whereof  I  walked  19.  Good  clay  prevailed  through  Harrison,  6  m.,  and  Nor- 
way, 14  m.,  to  S.  Paris,  but  from  there  over  the  mtns.  the  road  was  sandy  and  stony,  and  rain  de- 
layed me.  I  descended  to  Bucksport,  12  m.  from  N.,  for  noon  dinner  (i^  h.  halt),  and  walked 
much  of  the  next  8  m.  to  N.  Turner,  at  3. 15,  where  1 1. 1.  to  Wayne,  13  m.,  over  an  improved  road. 
From  5.30  to  6.1  s  P.  M.,  I  enjoyed  a  finely  shaded  shale  course  along  two  pretty  lakes,  to  Win- 
throp,  8  m. ,  and  then  climbed  the  long  hill  towards  Augusta.  On  24th,  through  Palermo,  Mont- 
ville  and  Belmont  to  Belfast,  48  m.  in  5I  h.  of  riding ;  on  25th,  3  to  5  p.  m.,  back  to  Buckspon, 
18  i\i.,  by  good  loam  and  shale  road,  through  Searsport  and  Stockton  ;  on  36th,  by  fine  clay  road 
to  Ellsworth,  so  m.,  and,  at  last,  through  the  afternoon's  rain,  to  Bar  Harbor,  on  the  island  of 
Mt.  Desert.  I  had  been  22  days  in  doing  the  836I  m.  from  Phila.  to  this  objective  point, 
but  my  stops  on  the  way  amounted  to  more  than  a  week.  During  a  15  days'  stay  at  B.  H.,  I 
covered  only  31}  m. ;  but  on  Aug.  10,  wheeled  to  South  West  Harbor,  16  m.,  in  1}  h.,  and  took 
boat  to  Rockland,— wheeling  thence  on  xith  to  Augusta,  52  m.,  in  6h.  of  riding;  X2th,  9.30 
A.  M.  to  7.30  p.  M.,  to  Solon,  60  m.,  in  ^\  h.  r. ;  and  13th,  8.15  A.  m.  to  6.45  P.  m.,  to  the  border 
custom-house  at  Moose  River  Plantation,  62  m.  This  is  30  m.  beyond  the  forks  of  the  Kennebec, 
which  I  left  at  1.45  p.  m.  ;  and  the  half-way  house  called  Jackman's  Plantation  is  the  only  dwell* 
ing  on  the  route.  At  the  Forks  I  entered  '  the  100  m.  forest ' ;  and  for  the  whole  15  ra.  of  my  jour- 
ney up  the  sth,  6th,  7th  and  ist  ranges,  to  Jackman's,  the  thick  branches  of  the  trees  overiapfiA 
and  caused  pleasant  shade  over  a  fine  road ;  the  next  4  m.  also  ww  SM^*  And  then  I  had^ : 
of  continuous  descent,  with  impressive  views  of  rugged  nM, 
of  Moosehead  Lake.    Rain  delayed  my  start  on  the 


SUMMARY  By  STATES:    MAINE. 


575 


L  la  the  HuiiniiL  of  the  Bald  lidiE,  wlicn  inndi  the  bugs  iron  p«t  DHrking  the  diiide  ba- 
rD  U.  S.  ud  Can. ;  but »  4  a'dock  1  warn,  for  the  fiiu  limc  m  m/  UIc,  on  Briliih  toil.  I 
bed  Si.  Ome,  11  m.,  in  ;  b.,ulhehilJi  wen  in  my  favor.  Un  the  isth/uamngat  8.1a, 
jnd  a  good  clay  road  10  St.  GeoTee»  9  m.,  and  IhcD  Iook  aloucs  and  grab,  Ehrough  which  I 

I  to  ride  fail,  to  avoid  being  D>  enaken  by  Lbe  cuUduu  officen.     1  reached  St.  Joiepb,  14 

II  I  p.  u.  (dinner,  ■!  b.),aDdforinuch  of  the  next  jj  lu.  of  wretched load  to  St.  Henry (7 
.)  f  ran  and  pushed  my  hi.,  for  1  Mill  feared  ptinuil  by  the  cu«oini  men.  Thcncs  to  f^nut 
i  stretched  ii  m.  of  mac,  aiHl  I  croucd  the  ferry  by  moonlighi,  and  rode  1  m.  more  to  the 
on  Houie  in  Quebec,  at  S,]o.  Thia  Si  m.  vpvn  wa*  a  tevere  trial  of  endurance  both  Ua 
iDd  the  machine,  but  the  fear  of  having  the  Jatter  seued  and  confiscated,  becaiue  of  my  fail- 
LD  deposit  fjo  surety  for  it,  kept  me  up  to  my  work.  After  a  daya  in  Q.,  1  rode  on  iPUh 
>eichambault.  43  m. ;  on  igifa,  !□  Maikinonge,  74^  m..  and  on  loih,  to  Montreal,  MJ  m., — 
ut  T3  m-,  00  the  island,  being  the  only  good  riding  of  all,  (or  Ihe  rest  was  ibrnugh  sand^ 
I  and  weeds.  The  food  of  Iboie  )  days  wia  hardly  fit  la  eat  and  the  beds  had  no  aheeta. 
he  13rd,  ID  A.  u.  10  4  p.  H.,  I  wheeled  from  il.  to  St.  Anne,  ii  m.,  across  the  isUnd  of 

r  reponi  about  Quebec,  lee  pp.  ji8-)JO.) 

1  "  laid  :     ■'  The  road  from  Bickleford  to  Fonlanil  1( 

10  Old  Oichard  Beach  and  return  iieicellent."    On 

lore,  in  the  course  of  a  3  weelu'  lour  of  j36m,,rode 

h  J  h.  of  slc^;  and  then  from  I>over  Pmni  10  ICiltety, 

lobodly  cut  upas  to  be  only  barely  ridable,  but  the  lal. 

Er«cenery.    (In  Mass.,  a  few  days  later,  Mr,  K.  rods 

ir  Wakefield  to  S.  Fnuninghani,  16  m.)     Osgool'i  "  New 

rice  to  any  taurist  in  Maine  or  the  other 

iVildemess,"  with  map  of  the  lake  r^ioo 

ike  and  the  Headwalen  of  the  Connecti- 

l"  ('K4,  fptfa  ed.jigpp,),  area  pair ol paper-coKred 

:a  Plain,  Mass, ,  chiefly  [ot  the  benefit  at  iho«wbo 

ine  are  issued  by  the  Collons.  iSa  WLliasi  11.,  N.  V.  1 

m  Portsmouih,  Manchester  and  Nashua  are  on  pp.  roi,  ja^joc^ 

ingtanare  noted  on  pp.  jij,  671.     The  A*.  fffrU  of 

down  the  mtn.  by  the  trio  of  lovriHl*  from  5l  Loula  1 
C.  F.  A.Bcdwn.J,  S.  Kogenand  A.  Young.— Ihe  first  of  whom  reached  Ihe  Cleo  Houseinji 
■b.,  the  olhera  j;  min.  later.  They  rode  Expert  Columlua,  fitted  with  special  brakes ;  and 
Uwybadtloulof  ji  filb  (dinded  Ihua :  B.,j;  R.,  14;  Y.,  id),  but  ilnick  on  their  feel  in 
•pery  oue.  J.  A.  Spead,  of  So.  Newmarket,  wrote  lo  me  thus  :  "  We  often  ride  10  Poita- 
oooth.  It  m.t  without  diamoml,  inside  of  1  h.,  in  apite  of  a  stiff  bill  and  10a  rods  of  sand.  The 
nod  to  Dovor,  la  m.,  is  rather  sandy  aod  hilly,  but,  by  using  care,  I  can  cover  it  wilh  one  di^ 

_. ._.     .«_     _   I —  .._.  ..  „.... ..  ridable, but  include  two  steep  hilla,"    C.  F, 

nm,  Hillsboro,  Washington  and  Lempsler,  to 


when  a  man  gen  a  fwrf  McI>onnell  he  wiU 
n  July,  'gj,  U  to  Hachiai,  Me,,  and  bacli,— 


«ry  good,  and  the  ». 

]e  trip 

from  Saco 

Sept.  1,  -aj,  F.  C  Ki 

1.  of  Balti, 

from  Portland  to  Saco 

in  ]  h.,  »i 

»m.,in.th.    Thef 

lerwi.  better  and  oit. 

irKlBtl 

ractive  wa 

without  dismount  from  a  pw 

England  Guide,"  dea. 

sibed  1 

jSuie*.    "Mooeehei 

idLaki 

1  and  Non 

rBfcyIhed.,.t,pp., 

iihist.). 

and  "  An 

gBdes,  byCA.J.F, 

ub.  at  J«n 

fish  and  hunt.    Twol. 

.wnri.ip 

.map.  of  i 

4oby]ain„al|>.io,i 

^.4i«.,< 

Nnw  Hampshibb 

t^•.&^3.6SI,7^    R« 

'poruft 

oroPortM. 

^.jo8l  and  two  rid«  down 

Aug.  .,  -Sj  (p.  aiol,  d. 

iKTibed 

the  coast 

576  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

300  m.  in  10  days  of  wheeling,  besides  much  riding  on  train  and  boat  Longest  stretch  in  this 
tour,  14a  m.^in  4  days.  Longest  run  ever  made  by  daylight  was  Sept.  19,  *85,  a  circuit  of  80  m., 
around  the  Pilot  Range,  an  offshoot  of  the  White  Mtns.,  forming  a  chain  of  beautiful  wooded 
hilb,  3000  to  3000  ft.  high.  From  L.  we  rode  n.,  along  the  winding  Connecticut,  to  Groveton, 
10  m.,  and  Stark  Water,  8  m.,  on  stretches  of  hard  gravel  and  through  groves  of  beech  and 
maple.  Thence  through  a  rougher  country,  across  the  watershed  between  the  Conn,  and  the 
Androscoggin,  to  West  Milan,  8  m. ;  followed  by  a  m.  upward  tramp  and  2  m.  of  descent,  on  a 
stony  and  sandy  road  to  Pontook  Falls ;  thence  along  the  r.  bank  of  the  river  to  Bethel,  12  m., 
was  the  swiftest  spin  of  the  day.  We  arrived  at  12.30,  and  after  \  h.  for  dinner,  I  proceeded 
alone  to  Gorham,  6  ro.,  expecting  to  make  good  time  for  the  26  m.  thence  to  L.,  thoi^  up-grade 
and  rather  rough ;  but  a  gale  of  wind  opposed  me  for  a  while,  and  I  got  on  a  wrong  road  which 
forced  me  to  retrace  3  m.  Reaching  home  soon  after  sundown,  I  was  comparatively  fresh,  so 
that  I  might  have  done  20  ra.  more  without  trouble,  llie  route  is  a  pleasant  one,  but  might  be 
en)oyed  better  by  giving  2  days  to  it.  The  stretch  of  25  m.  up  the  river  from  Gorham  b  the 
only  good  road  of  any  length  in  the  whole  of  Coos  county." 

E.  F.  Peavey,  of  Farroington,  filled  p.  261  in  BL  IVorldol  Oct.  7,  '81,  with  an  interesting 
sketch  of  his  3  days*  straightaway  tour  from  F.  to  Fabyan's,  97  m.,  in  21  h.  of  actual  time  on  the 
road.  Starting  Sept.  7,  on  a  52  in.  Standard  Columbia,  he  reached  Ossipee,  26  m.,  at  noon,  amd 
spent  night  at  Tamworth,  16  m., —having  walked  a  good  deal  through  hilly  and  sandy  stretches. 
On  7th,  through  N.  Conway  to  Bartlett,  35  m.  of  superb  scenery  and  fair  riding.  On  the  8th, 
he  tramped  most  of  the  15  m.  up-grades  to  Crawford's  Notch,  in  5  h.,  and  thence  along  the 
sandy  level  for  5  m.  to  Fabyan's,  whence  he  went  home  by  train, — ^well  satisfied  with  hav- 
ing pushed  "  the  first  bicycle  over  that  route."  Allusion  is  made  on  p.  503  to  the  tour  taken 
through  the  White  Mtns.,  before  Aug.,  '79>  by  W.  E.  Gilman;  and  I  think  he  gave  an  account 
of  it  in  Bi.  IVorld^  but  I  cannot  now  refer  to  date  and  page.  Four  carefully-written  chapters 
of  White  Mtp.  travels  were  printed  in  B.  W.^  June  23  to  Aug.  4,  '82,  giving  the  '81  experiences 
and  observations  of  three  Worcester  men,  who  mention  a  Walling's  map  (2^  in.  to  i  m.)  au  serv- 
ing them  well.  The  writer  of  the  report  appended  to  it  several  outline  routes  for  tours  of  4,  6 
or  1$  days,  and  said :  "I  advise  moving  from  w.  to  e.,  as  the  up-grades  are  much  easier,  in  the 
Ammonoosuc  valley,  approaching  the  Notch,  than  those  of  the  Saco  valley  from  the  e.  An 
average  of  5  m.  an  hour  and  25  m.  a  day  will  be  enough  for  comfort.  From  Plymouth,  the  fint 
5  or  6  m.  up  the  Pemigewasset  valley  are  reported  sandy  smd  the  next  20  m.  to  the  Flume  fair 
riding.  At  N.  Conway,  9  m.  may  be  done  with  only  2  dismounts,  and  the  roads  in  the  region 
around  Littleton  are  also  exceptionally  good.  We  struck  2  m.  of  unridable  sand  just  n.  of 
Franconia,  $  m.  of  it  from  Fabyan*s  to  Crawford's  and  2  m  of  it  e.  of  Fryeburg.  We  met  few 
grades  too  steep  to  ride  up,  if  their  surface  had  been  good,  though  the  big  hills  were  aUl  around 
us.  Little  hills,  softness  of  surface  and  occasional  patches  of  sand  are  the  bicycler's  troubles  in 
the  White  Mtns."  Four  years  later,  in  Oct.,  '85,  Geo.  B.  Thayer  wheeled  from  Vernon,  Ct.,  to 
the  White  Mtns.  (Profile  House),  236  m.,  in  5  days.  He  rode  a  46  in.  Expert,  carried  his  bag- 
gage on  his  shoulders,  in  an  army  knapsack,  and  covered  1200  m.  during  the  tour.  Going  up 
the  Conn,  valley,  he  crossed  from  Bemardston  into  Vt.  on  the  evening  of  the  second  day ;  on 
the  third  into  N.  H.,  through  Chariestown  and  West  Claremont ;  on  the  fourth,  back  into  Vt.,  at 
Windsor,  and  to  a  point  25  m.  beyond  White  River  Junction.  On  the  forenoon  of  the  fifth  day, 
he  turned  from  the  Conn,  river  at  Wells  River,  and  followed  up  the  Ammonoosuc  to  N.  Lisbon, 
where,  after  climbing  a  hill  about  i  m.  long,  he  found  an  easy  descent  into  Franconia,  and  then 
3  m.  of  up-hill  to  the  Profile  (the  route  first  intended,  through  Littleton,  would  have  taken  a  day 
longer).  "  The  24  m.  thence  to  Fabyan's  can  easily  be  ridden  in  an  afternoon ;  but  the  next  7 
m.  through  Crawford's  Notch  to  Willey's  are  poor  riding.  An  excellent  road  of  17  m.  led  me 
down  the  Saco  to  a  point  4  m.  beyond  Upper  Bartlett,  and  next  day  through  N.  Conway  to  W. 
Ossipee.  The  day's  ride  thence  to  Center  Harbor,  and  around  Lake  Winnipiseogee  to  Weirs, 
was  one  of  the  best  on  the  trip ;  and  from  Laconia  down  to  Concord,  2$  m.,  the  road  is  fine,  thoq^ 
mostly  through  the  woods.  Above  and  below  Manchester,  the  wheeling  was  poorer ;  bat  Ali 
whole  trip  was  so  pleasant  that  the  poor  roads  have  almost  been  forvaMtn  "  (Antfr/^,  Jaa.  fl% 


k. 


SUMMARy  BY  STATES:  NEW  HAMPSHIRE.     577. 

tb,  p.  5>X  Wiih  ihit  roay  be compiRd (ba npMt  oi  W.  B.  Piic :  ''Qnahanaon  □{  JiTr  14, 
tt.  By  rtdsoC  \f>  is.,  Balh  la  Francanii,  wu  [iitemiptal  by  tbumin' itomu,  vlihraiu  aiidJiaUr 
■Bking  tbc  luually  good  md  difficult.    On  iotb,l  look  idiunitoihc  Hume  <  13  n.,bicL  6  b.. 

h>  BeihlEhein,  6  m.  (dJTuiei  at  i);  tkeiite  pm  Hniikmod.  Twir  Uio.  HouK,  Flbyid'i  and 
Cnwf«d  HcuK  ID  WUley  Hnoc—nuUngjim.  for  !l  h.  af  riding.  Oi>ii>i,aiae.iin.nia 
«■  BanitU  forbreiki»li  ihtn  b  m.  m  GI>d  Stallonud  16  m,,  noMly  uoridaUe,  up  the  i'olmdjr 
ri«driD  tbcOkn  Hejuk,  ihoai^  Ihe  «Dnderfiil' views  nwre  a  GOBpctiaalHm.  Btlveen.]  and  A 
r.  ■.,  I  lerli  ■  mmp  lo  ihc  lop  oi  Mi.  WuhiDflon  and  back,  ifr  b., — Ihui  ccnpleliBS,(inaai 
thj  batdni  jo  n.  ncar^  in  my  txpmaax.  Un  und,  1  rMraod  infcourai  u>  Gles.  SlalioD  t 
raacbed.N.  Conwiy.  ii  m.,  al  aoou;  wiUud  mlwt  ai  11  n.  Ibtnce'lo  Fiyobuig.  Uc. ;  whoma 
lo  Utidatou,  14  n..  half  lbs  toad  iaiawl.  IhrwEb  a  nunuid  fonit,  and  ihe.ratiiifinohiJ*, 
bi  liigatoi  preBy  lako."  (Sae  p.  Wtim  ignuiiiilcr o<  renM  ihtDi«b  Ht.,  aad  p.  s/3ifof  fiiat 
pan  of  lonr,  fmni  Phiiadilpbia  10  baih. ) 

A  inrinlKhila  loar,  July  ]i  ID  Auf.  1],  !Si.  «at  nprntad  by  B.  K.  Cancn  Id  hii  hen* 
paper,  ih>  RDcluiUr Csuriir ti  Aug.  Jit  and  the MvAMic  If lerwaidi ilevoied (  caluunsiaa 
Kprini  of  ihd  ikeicb.  The  ndor  Conitqiied  bu^iMaa  wiib  plcature,— b^caute  bi^  fun  4b  Iba' 
nadgan  au  "  abject  kaaon  "  ulalha  merili  af  IheSlar  b>.,  for  whicta  he  laa  BiaH«nIhuMauitr 
Klling^gTQt,  and  enabled  bim  10  udie  orden  ironi  purdiaacn  in  alooK  ayeiv  lown )  "Qvcnhp 
BueHiUisf  SinaardioPit»ticJd,fr]oto  ii  a.  H.iindthgnoio<JoiKurd,4]ln.,  v»ahaiilHd< 
fuitb  day'*  "de;  and  [  adriic  touiisu  thai  .a  beiiei  route  Iron  K,  id  C  is  by  the  old  I'ma- 
BHMihana  C.  pike  from  E.  Ulartkwiod. .  Aue.  i,  PgnnioxA.  Bocaven  and  FnnUia  Palbl 
and,  TBty  ineride  alonK  ihaihors  dI Snoborntoa  bay  id  Laeaniai  3Td,io  Wcinand  back:  4th;; 
lhroi«h  Aihland  and  Pfynmuih  id  fiavnlill;  whence  on  jlh,  1  JoQeWBl  ibi  :Cann.  rittr, 
iinid  boaiiful  tceneiy  to  Welli  91iKf,  add  then  [ha  AnimoniXHU:,  ^  uady  madl  10  Ullle- 
UHi;  luwil  haidcaad  ID  WhiteGeld  and  hilly  tbn  id  Lauaner,  56  m- )  6ih  ta9ih,  niandarouDd 
L.,  Incladini  a  lnlmp  to  ihi  top  of  Ui.  iVmpnl  (*heie  maybe  had  Doe  Df  ibe fioeal. viem  in 
Iha  Sute)Kid  a  rida  ta  Guildhall  Falli,  VI.  On  loih,  bybad  nwl.  10  tierham,  ir  ni,l  nth, 
WBelhcl,  Ut.,  iiim-iu  jl  h.,  thincein  rain  loLonlJ  1  iilh,  E.  FtTebwg  and  Kauh  Falla, 
)Din.  i  ijiti,  in  rain,  chiough  L'orniili.  Limecickaiid  Millon  Milla  hoqw  to  Rotheautat  i.so 
t.  H.,— Ihe  lau  i;  m,  io  i|h."  The  whole  nukage  n  ■aiKix'ef  alluded  10  a>  "5»,"  bul  no 
delailaol  it  are  giren  laia  Iheat  quoted.  The  Bine  "Star  niah"  [p.  ijrion  July  lo,  '&i,  rode 
trom  K.  ID  Laconla,  jq^  m.,  in  s|  h.,  Ihrousfa  Facminfloii  and  Alton  Bay;  iiih,  througki 
PlynKHith  to  (Janplan  Village  (with  diloun,  75  m.  in>  day>>:  mh,  afier  4  m.  of  waikiiig  m 
aand,  a  bener  road  wai  found  on  «.  ude  af  river ;  Ihmugh  Tharaien,  Wacduodc,  Iha  Flunw, 
pan  Profile  Houk,  Belhlchem  and  Whiielield  (o  Laneauer,  j.go  a.  h.id  6  p.  a.,  v  «*■  '■  illh.to 
LuKnbore.  Vi.,  and  back,  1;  in.,incl.  a  ;  m.  urelchDl  landi  tjlh,  ij  m..  to  a  fam  houae, 
vithln  4  m.  of  ibi  Glen  HouKi  i6Ih,  climbed  10  lumniil  oE  Ml.  Withinslon  and  then 
coattcd  dewq  (aev  p.  671)^  aj  m.  i  iTlh,  home  la  Rochciter,  about  85  m.,  ihraagh<  Jachaon, 
Conway,  Uadiann,  FtHdom,  Ouipee,  Wake&eld  and  Millon. 

OlfgDod'a  "  White  Mm,  Gddc"  Ui.)t>i  tea  p  iq))  ihnulJ  b>  Iiudied  byevary  one  who 
plana  l«  take  iiaur  in  thl3  Suio.  S.  C,  Earinan'a  "  White  Min.  Guide  "  (Concord, '75t  <■'>> 
ed.,i^p|i.),  a  vqaller  and  cheaper  bnok,  proved  very  Mrricaable  to  me,  at  apedcitrian,  in'74- 

U.  Pickeriug'a  •'  Walldnx  Guide  lo-the  Mi.  WaihingiOD  Range  "  (BuiiDn!  A.  Will'ihm  ft  Co., 

of  Graflon  Cbunly,  i7D«-iSM."<»npiledandpab. 
pa  Hva !  pp.  644.  jId  ;  portniu  and  map) ;  for  Iha 
orrofall  the  inhabiunla.and  atler  each  panoa'r 
losae  may  be  foond  on  Ihe  aecompanyine  nap. — 
bind.  .£.r.,.'W.  B.  PWIIipa.  rijeoT  11 'sbowi^ 
The  Coliena  publiih  a  loHnaliip  mapot  N.  H„ 
nil  map  af  PortaaDuih,  u  fA. 


578 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLi 


Vermont:    31,  iia,  119,  177,  193,  503,  508,  5x6,  580,  594,  609,  610, 617,  61. 
673,  733,  766.    My  ride  up  the  river  to  Bellows  Falls,  and  then  from  Rutland  l> 
183-84;  other  lake  tourists  in  s.  w.  cor.  of  Vt.,  179,  193  ;  route  from  White  K. 
Montpelier,  Lake  Champlain  and  Canada,  500.   Colton's  maps :  40  by  30  in., $1 
50  c. ;  Vt.  &  N.  H.,  31  by  35  in.,  $1.    The  Bi.  World  (Apr.  24,  '85,  p.  457)  i 
about  the  Vt.  roads,  by  F.  W.  Sherburne,  of  Barre,  who  said  he  had  explore ' 
them, — his  best  day's  ride  being  68  m.,  from  B.  to  Windsor,  in  Sept.,  '83,  .' 
soon  to  do  xoo  m.     His  letter  to  me  of  Aug.  xi,  '85,  reported  this  as  accompli 
July  37,  between  3  a.  m.  and  9.45  p.  m.,  on  a  52  in.  Rudge,  I  covered  \\7\  m 
cyclom.     Roads  and  weather  were  at  their  best,  and  a  very  light  wind  preva*' 
quent  stops,  amounting  in  all  to  3}  h. ;  used  a  Lillibridge  saddle,  but  no  lantL^ 
morning  and  x  h.  of  night  were  quite  dark.     From  B.  I  went  to  Montpelier,  ^ 
town  and  Wakefield,  26  m.  at  6.ao  (}  h.  stop  for  breakfast) ;  back  by  same  rr 
pelier,  thence  through  Northfield,  to  W.  Randolph,  70  m.,  at  1.25  (dinner  till 
Bethel  (supper);   £.  Randolph,   N.  Randolph,   £.  Brookfield,  Williamstov^ 
last  27  m.  in  3^  h.    The  longest  day's  ride  previously  taken  in  Vt.  was  on  \  < 
Rutland  boys,  W.  Egleston  and  N.  S.  Marshal,  xoo^  m.     I  have  ridden  from 
Montpelier  and  Burlington,  and  call  the  roads,  as  a  whole,  fair.     From    I. 
25  m.,  I  took  the  N.  H.  side  of  the  Conn,  river,  and  found  some  patches  c 
White  River  Junction,  15  m.,  some  fine  stretches,  some  unridable  ;  thence  t 
ridable  but  rather  sandy ;  thence  to  Montpelier,  38  m.,  all  good  but  the  first 
and  shorter  road,  turn  from  r.  r.  about  x  m.  beyond  R. ,  and  go  to  Williamstu 
Barre  is  a  charming  run  of  xo  m.);  M.  to  Burlington,  46  m.,  quite  fair,  \ 
sand.     Mt.  Mansfield,  highest  peak  of  the  Green  Mtns.,  where  a  superb  \ 
only  30  m.  from  Barre,  and  may  be  reached  by  a  half  day's  ride,  through  thi 
sex  Notch,  where  another  fine  sight  is  given  by  the  Winooski  rushing  throu;. 

Vermont  supplied  3  days'  wheeling  in  the  1423  m.  tour  of  W.  B.  Pagi 
'86.     His  earlier  rides  (7500  m.)  are  detailed  on  pp.  494-99,  and  his  report  tc 
says  :    "  In  my  delightful  summer  outing  of  50  days,  only  26  were  used  in  -^ 
ing  a  daily  average  of  about  59I  m., — ^and  only  3  riding  days  were  stopped  V- 
falls:  the  first  between  Saratoga  and  Lake  George,— the  others  bet  wee  t 
real.     I  used  a  new,  full-nickeled  Expert,  which  I  had  ridden  80  m.,  a  few 
In  the  early  autumn,  I  indulged  in  499  m.  of  local  riding,  and  a  tour  of   > 
and  Reading.   At  the  end  of  Nov.,  I  took  a  run,  through  rain  and  snow,  i4- 
Va.,^loing  the  last  50  m.  in  8  h.,  thit>ugh  about  6  in.  of  snow, — and  thi<;  t 
'86  record,  since  July  i,  to  2306  m.     I  was  5  days  in  riding  from  Phila. 
with  detours),  and  I  rested  there  as  well  as  at  Lake  Oorge,  40  m.  beyond. 
July  X4,  I  wheeled  from  the  lake,  at  Baldwin's,  by  rutty  clay  roads,  througl 
old  fort,  to  W.  Cornwall,  Vt.  (no  hotel),  22  m.    On  15th,  10  a.  m.  to  5  i 
on  account  of  rain  and  mud,  through  Middlebury  (7  m.),  E.  M.  (6  m.),  ai' 
to  Ripton  and  the  Bread  Loaf  Tnn  (6  m.),  near  the  summit.     Rain  fell  t^ 
I  walked  x  m.  to  summit,  and  thence  had  beautiful  descent  over  good 
cock  (10  m.),  where  grand  effect  is  produced  by  dosing  in  of  mtns.  01 
p.  M.,  and  followed  White  river,  along  a  fair  loam  road  to  Rochester  U 
the  last  and  steepest  spur  of  the  Green  Mtns., — walking  \\Tti,  to  sum- 
scent,  of  red  shale,  was  ridden,  and  surface  continued  fine  to  Bethel 
sandy,  along  the  river,  to  hotel  in  S.  Royalton  (8  m.),  at  6,— making  33I' 
On  17th,  by  good  mud  road  to  Chelsea  (14  m.),  where  t.  r.  and  walked   - 
top  I  rode  most  of  the  22  ra.  to  Bradford,  on  Conn,  river;  along  which,  '  ■ 
winding  in  and  out,  with  fine  views  of  the  stream  and  the  White  Mtn^i. 
(14  m.),  and  there  crossed  into  N.  H.  at  Woodville  and  walked  most  of 
(For  condttsion  of  trip,  through  N.  H.  and  Me. ,  see  pp.  577,  574. 

J.  D.  Upham  reports  {V't,  Bkycit,  Sept.,  '86)  that  the  r»ad  from   : 


58o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

ascent  is  quite  smooth.    For  14}  in.  s.  of  the  bridge,  I  found  no  obstacle  to  cause  a  stop  in  Dec.,. 
'84  (p.  122),  and  the  road  through  Agawam  has  been  improve^  since  then.     Hence,  this  straight 
run  down  ih.i  vaJley,  24  m.,  may  be  readiJy  done  w.  d., — from  the  river  heights  opp.  Mt.  Tmh 
to  the  river  bank  below  Windsor  Locks.    The  "  too  soft "  road  (p.   184)  from  WilUmausett 
through  Chicop'te  Street  to  the  town  hall  in  C,  3^  m.,  I  found  all  ridable  (Oct.  17^  *86),-n-the<« 
latter  half,  from  the  church  s.,  having  an  excellent  gravel-clay  surface,  while  the  n.  part  wasz 
tolerable,  in  sidi-paths  and  ruts,  though  its  scenery  is  much  poorer  than  that  of  the  fine  road  M» 
the  w.  sid^  of  the  nver.    A  far  better  route  to  the  Memorial  Church  than  that  named  on' p.  t»4^ 
may  now  be  had  by  riding  up  the  slope  n.  of  the  town  hall  in  C,  and  then  turning  r.  along  the 
r.  walk  of  the  street  on  whose  1.  side  stands  the  Jiigb«chool  building,— for  this  street  vdoft  leads 
into  Springfield  st.  (also  called  ths  Bovlevard),  whose  I.  walk  may.be  kept  till  one  reaches'  the 
smooth  graveled  roadway,  which  used  to  be  deep  sand.    A  straight  i  m.  through  the  woods,;  4' 
sharp  and  somewhat  winding  descent  of  \  m.  (I  rode  up  this,  Nov.  m*  thobgh  it  tired  me),  an^ 
a  straight  }  m.  on  Chistnut  St.,  will  bring  the  rider  to  the  comer  cf  Cai«w  St.,  #here  th«  'smooth^ 
gravel  ends,  and  the  rougher  macadam  begins,  on  both  streets.    This  Is  3  m.  from  the  t^d^wn  hall 
in  C. :  and  Carewst.  ends  J  m.  w.,  at  Main  St.,  just  below  th«  Memorial  Churdt.    If  a  rider 
wishes  to  avoid  the  always  muddy  macadam,  and  the  kefse-car  tracks,  of  Main  st  (when  he  tnter* 
the  city  from  the  n.  ^.,  by  the  bridge  ;kbove  Hampden  Park)  let  him^  as  soon  as  be  f>afl8es  this- 
church,  ride  thrd*  C^arew  to  Chestnut  and  s.  on  this  to  Worthington  st.    On  W'.  he'may  t.  r.  \ot- 
Main :  or  hs  may  avoid  that  busifaess  section  of  the  city  entirely  by  making  a  t.  1.,  which,  tA  the 
top  of  ths  hill  (I  rods  up  this  by  great  effort.  Nov.  11),  will  bring  him  to  the  street  leading  r.  past 
the  U.  S.  Armory,;to  State  st.,<— the  old  Boston  road, —where  he  should  t.  !.,  if  bound  for  the 
latter  city.     In  going  across  the  plain  to  Indian  Orchard,  he  will  find  that  the  new  bridge  over' 
the  r.  r.  track  and  the  3  or  4  m.  of  new  gravel  wiH  enable  him  to  get  there  easily,  w.  d."  On 
Nov.  II,  I  mads  no  turn  at  the  Amtory  corner,  en  State  st.',but  kept  straight  s.,  through  Wal- 
nut St.,  1}  m.,  to  the  water-shops;  then  rode  up  the  bill  With  difficulty;  and'ttinfted  s.  for  3}  m. 
to  E.  Lonp^msadow,  where  6  roads  meet.    The  dfte  that  I^adb  w.  4  m.  to  the  main  street  of  L., 
at  the  church,  is  shut  in  by  woods  and  has  no  houses  tipon  it.    The  surface  having  beetr  i^cently 
scraped  and  spoiled  by  the   "menders,"  and  darkness  overtaking  me,  I  walked  most  of  the- 
distance,  thou;;h  much  of  it  wan  a  gentle  down-grade  and  I  enc6utrtcied  only  one  piece  of  deep- 
sand,  on  a  short  up-grade.     In  summer,  when  trodden  by  traffic,  I  think  the  stretch  would' 
mostly  b J  ridable,  e.  to  w. ,  especially  after  damp  or  rainy  weather.    The  w.  sidewalks  and  paths 
of  the  main  street  thro'  L.  are  continuously  ridable  for  5  m.  s.  from  the  crest  of  the  Pecowsie* 
hill,  where  the  n.-bound  traveler  £^ts  his  first  view  of  the  river  and  of  Springfield,  whose  city  halt 
is  2^  m.  above.     In  Oct.,  '86,  H.  E.  Ducker,  of  S.,  rode  s.  from  that  hill  #.  d.  through  L.  and 
Enfield  to  the  new  bridge  leading  across  the  Conn,  river  from  Warehouse  Point  to  Windsor  Locks 
(to  m.  or  so);  and,  as  no  stop  would  be  forced  there,  if  a  rider  could  hand  his  toll  to  the  bridge- 
keeper,  it  would  be  possible  to  ride  back  n.  on  the  w.  side  of  the  river,  24  m.  w.  d.,  to  the  afore> 
mentioned  descent  opposite  Mt.  Tom.     Indeed,  I  think  a  50  m.  circuit  w.  d.,  with  no  repetitions^, 
might  bs  made  by  a  strong  and  lucky  rider,  who,  starting  from  Craft's  comer,  should  go  e. 
across  the  bridge  to  S.  Hadley  Falls,  then  s.  through  Willimansett  and  Chicopee, — for  I  believe 
the  hill  at  Pecnwsic  has  been  several  times  ridden.    The  smoothest  and  pleasantest  short  cir- 
cuit in  the  environs  of  S.  has  been  already  hinted  at,  thus :    Chestnut  st.  at  Carew,  to  Memorial, 
Church,  to  North  bridge,  to  Chicopee  bridge,  to  town  hall,  to  high  school,  to  Boulevard,  and  a. 
to  starting  point,  3  m.     Four  short  and  easily  ridable  ascents  are  the  only  obstacles  on  this  route, 
and  about  }  of  its  surface  are  of  almost  ideal  smoothness,  in  good  weather. 

An  S  days'  circuit  of  364  m. ,  including  ever^  State  in  New  England,  was  begun  May  28,  '86,. 
at  3  p.  M. ,  by  a  trio  of  Hartford  riders,  who  finished  at  Pawtucket,  June  5,  at  t  p.  m.  From 
report  in  Btdfetin  (Dec.  3,  pp.  5So-Si\  T  learn  that  they  "  coasted  down  the  i  m.  n.  slope  of' 
Mt.  Tom,  though  it  made  their  hair  rise  " ;  and  from  report  in  Springfield  Union  (Sept.  7,  '86), 
I  learn  that  good  side-path  riding  may  be  had  from  foot  of  mtn.  to  the  r.  r.  station  called  Mt. 
Tom,  3  m.,  except  that  the  overhanging  apple-trees  are  apt  to  scrape  off  the  rider's  hat  (see  pp. 
118,  670).    P.  406  in  BuHetin  of  Oct.  15,  '86,  described  the  suburban  riding  of  Boston,  "  as  expe- 


SUMMARY  BY  STATES:  MASSACHUSETTS.      581 

-rienoed  by  a  Western  man,"  John  R.  Clvke ;  and  p.  394,  in  issue  of  Sept.  17,  described  the 
"  many  miles  of  well-made  roads  in  the  3  valleys  of  the  Berkshire  Hills."  The  Builetin  (Dec. 
10,  p.  57a)  gave  an  account  of  the  League's  projected  Mass.  Road-Book,  essentially  the  same  as 
•the  following,  contained  in  a  letter  received  by  me  at  that  time  from  the  chief  consul  of  the 
Mass.  Division,  H.  W.  Hayes  :  "  The  work  of  editing  and  compiling  is  in  the  hands  of  a  com- 
mittee, consisting  of  J.  H.  Grimes,  F.  A.  Pratt  and  myself.  The  book  will  follow  the  Penn. 
model,  and  will  probably  appear  next  summer,  though  it  is  still  in  an  embryo  state.  A  copy  will 
be  given  to  each  member  of  the  Division.  I  estimate  its  cost — for  an  ed.'of,  say,  1500  copies — 
at  from  $600  to  $700."  This  will  be  much  superior  to  the  '84  book  (p.  iit),  and  will  render 
unnecessary  the  cheaper  affair  authorized  in  Feb.  (p.  677)  and  the  club  book  which  Mr.  Pratt 
intended  to  compile  (p.  678).  *'  History  of  the  Conn.  Valley  in  Mass."  (Philadelphia  :  L.  H. 
Everts;  '79,  4to,  2  vols.,  11 12  pp.),  which  may  be  consulted  in  every  local  library,  contains  a 
general  account  of  the  valley ;  of  Hampden,  Hampshire  and  Franklin  counties ;  and  of  each 
one  of  their  towns, — with  many  illustrations  and  biographical  sketches.  Its  material  was  sup- 
plied by  a  great  number  of  volunteer  contributors,  and  covers  a  great  variety  of  subjects ;  and 
its  preface  mentions  J.  G.  Holland's  '*  Hist,  of  Western  Mass.,"  as  a  standard  reference-book. 

Rhode  Island  :  31,  42,  295,  508,  5931  597i  ^'S*  617,  618, 628,  631,  643, 670,  769,  800.  My 
route  to  Pawtucket,  Warren  and  Bristol, — thence  back  to  Providence  and  Woonsocket,  107-9  i 
student's  route  from  B.  to  Middletown  and  Newport,  108 ;  clergyman's  report  from  E.  Green- 
wich, 512.  Maps,  1x2,  113,  149,  177,  293,  352.  Colton's  map  of  R.  I.  (33  by  27  in.,  ^x.50)  has 
added  to  it  a  plan  of  the  surroundings  of  Newport,  giving  names  of  chief  owners ;  also  a  plan  of 
Providence,  with  statistics ;  map  of  R.  I.  and  Mass.,  s8  by  14  in.,  50  c.  "  Road-Book  of  Mass. 
Division,"  above,  will  probably  contain  several  pp.  of  R.  I.  routes.  On  July  5,  '86,  Rev.  S.  H. 
Day  rode  from  E.  Greenwich  to  N.  Dighton,  42  m.,  and  then  back  to  N.  Easton,  18  m. 

Connecticut  :  31,  42,  48,  57.  73.  "o.  «55.  «97.  230.  '46,  248,  258,  295,  352,  466,  500,  593, 
597,  609,  610,  617,  6t8,  628,  631,  632,  643,  660,  723,  769-70.  Chap.  XI.  (129-49)  gives  my  route 
•of  185  m.  along  the  shore  of  the  Sound  from  New  London  to  New  Haven,  129-33,  thence  up  the 
Naugatuck  valley  to  the  hill-tops  of  Litchfield,  and  through  the  Farmington  valley  to  Granby 
and  Springfield,  139-46;  also  my  more  direct  routes  between  N.  H.  and  S.,  through  Hartford, 
133-38 ;  my  ride  through  the  n.  w.  comer,  147 ;  and  other  riders'  experiences  along  the  shore  be- 
tween Greenwich,  at  the  s.  w.  comer,  and  New  Haven ;  and  between  N.  H.,  H.  and  S.,  138, 
Z42, 149.  My  "  winter  wheeling  "  between  Greenwich,  N.  H.,  H.  and  S.,  248-53,  122.  Maps, 
99,  112,  113,  148,  177,  293.  Dr.  Tyler's  statistics,  510.  On  Oct.  4,  '86,  I  wheeled  from  N.  H. 
to  West  Springfield,  64I  m.  by  Pope  cyclom.,  9.15  a.m.  to  8.15  p.  m., — the  last  a  h.  in  the  moon- 
light. This  was  one  of  the  longest  rides  I  ever  took  in  11  h. ;  and  in  all  previous  tours  between 
those  two  points  I  had  spent  i^  days  upon  the  road.  The  surface  averaged  better  than  on  any 
previous  trial,  and  I  was  helped  somewhat  by  the  wind.  I  went  out  of  N.  H.  on  the  macad. 
of  Dixwell  av.,  and  then  the  1.  sidewalk  of  the  sandy  Boulevard,  to  Centerville  (6^  m.),  then  due 
n.  3  m.  to  the  first  brick  house  above  Mt.  C^rmel,  where  sign  says  "  6  m.  to  Wallingford,"  and 
where  I  obeyed  advice  given  on  p.  134,  by  turning  off  to  explore  4^  m.  new  to  me,  until  I 
reached  the  W.  turnpike.  I  did  not  regret  the  experiment,  for  the  road  was  a  rather  pleasant 
one,  and  mostly  ridable,  but  it  ended  with  i  m.  of  descent  so  rough  that  I  walked  parts  of  it, 
and  I  am  sure  it  could  not  be  ridden  up.  A  Meriden  rider  confirmed  my  previous  belief  that  the 
easiest  route  between  M.  and  Mt.  Carmel  (and  so  for  tourists  between  N.  H.  and  H.)  is  through 
Cheshire ;  but  I  understood  him  to  say  that  the  one  given  by  me  at  the  foot  of  p.  134  might  be 
improved  upon  by' turning  r.,  at  end  of  the  ''smooth  ridge,"  where  my  advice  says,  "  follow 
tel.  poles  to  1."  (7th  line  from  bottom).  He  told  me,  also,  that  the  old  tumpike  which  goes  in 
a  bee-line  for  xo  m.  n.  from  the  corner  hotel  at  Berlin,  to  Hartford,  had  been  greatly  improved 
since  I  rode  the  last  9  m.  of  it  (s.,  Dec.  4,  '84,  in  2  h.)  and  wrote  the  description  on  p.  X36;  and 
he  said  I  could  save  time  by  taking  it,  instead  of  the  longer,  more  civilized  and  leas  hilly  route 
through  New  Britain.  This  proved  true,  for,  with  the  wind's  help,  I  covered  the  9  m.  in  i  h., — 
riding  up  the  first  long  hill  and  almost  to  the  top  of  the  second  one  (2  m.  n.  of  B.,  first  stop); 
and  dismounts  were  forced  at  only  5  of  the  many  other  up-grades.    The  surface  itself  was  all 


582 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ridabk.lind  I  probaUir  logml  il  atiUbal.  A  fine  i  m.  slrclcli  a(  muad.,  llmoBl  parallel  to  the 
[nlie,  offera  belUc  rididi  imo  Ihe  uburbi,  ii  Ihe  end  dI  Ihe  9lh  m.  (nrni  B.  I  know  of  na  oiher 
igm.  gfiir-liae  highwiyiD  New  England;  and  I  iccammend  Ibii  only  latluDugh  louriitiwbD 
are  in  >  huny,— for  no  good  viewi  reward  one'i  hill-dimbing,  and  both  Ibe  rDundabmit  nmlet 
Ibnugh  New  Britain  (p.  137}  are  i^aHnler.  I  wheeled  acrou  Ibe  river  to  E.  Hanford,  and 
thence  kept  Ihe  w.  udewalk  ot  path  for  moil  ol  Ihe  neil  ii  m.  la  Ifae  new  bridge,  by  which  I 
CTOued  back  ta  WindioT  Locka.  I  think  the  bridge  waA  officially  opened  on  that  very  day. 
though  tiafEc  had  been  allowed  upon  it  aince  iti  acceptance  from  the  contraciort,  Sept.  17,  and 
indeed  for  loiiie  lime  prcnoui.  I  reached  the  bridge  juti  S  h.  from  the  itart,  and  the  cydom. 
showed  jiut  5am.  Between  Greenwich  and  New  Haven,  Od.  1.  ilihowedonly  «;  m.,ai  com- 
pared with  JO  m.  between  the  ume  point)  on  previoui  loun.  I  rode  to  G,,  ij  m.,  on  the  after- 
noon of  Oct.  I,— Ifaiu  doing  the  i^om.  between  N.V.  and  S.  in  ijd^iys. 

Aa  regaida  route  between  Hanfonl,  Waterbury  and  New  Haven  {pp.  14a.  25a),  C.  C. 
McNeil,  a  atudent  in  the  Maa.  lul.  of  Technology,— whoM  previoui  wheeling  conrpriaed  only 
Soom.,  moatly  in  the  Boiton  region,— wrote  to  me  that,  Aug.  n,  '85:    "  Road  a  good  fiooi 

got  lo  Waterville,  wbence  good  road  reaches  to  Waterbury,  u  m.  from  6.  At  Naugatuck,  j  in. 
>.,  weilmckinto  thehiUiagaio,  lo  Bethany,  ;m.,and  then  Id  Weitville  and  New  Haven,  it 
m.,— almost  all  being  ridable."    In  Bi.  WBrldal  Feb.  17,  '81,  "  B.  Bugle,"  of  Suien  Island 

■  ungle  l»cyder :  "  First  day,  Tarrytown  to  Lake  Mahopac;  ind,— fine  scenery  a)  Crolon 
reservoir,— 4hen  by  bad  roadt  thro'  wood)  and  over  Shenandoah  mm.  to  Fisbkill  (last  j  m.  f  ne) ; 
jid,  Poughkeepue  and  Dover  Plaini  (good  hotel)  \  tth,  10  S.  Dover,  just  beyond  which  be 
crosHd  into  Conn,,— between  1  big  bowlders— ind  walked  every  step  from  Gjyiord't  Bridge  to 
New  Milfoid,  whence  he  continued  ilown  the  Kouiatonic  ontil  tired  o!  wretched  roadi  aud  tame 
Bcenery,  and  then  sinick  across  through  a  painfully  desolsle  country  to  Newtown ;  jlh,  s  similsr 


dreary  and  tiresome  ride  10  New  H. 

«n;  6 

,  SUmtord 

jlh 

New  Y 

orkC 

y,"    D 

uring  '86, 

nulerialj  for  a  "  League  Road-Book 

ectei 

by  the  Stsle's 

Touring 

Commit- 

tee,  W.  T,  Williams  (b.  Feb.  .,  'ej). 

of  Van 

ic,  W.  T.  B 

aldwi 

n,  of  St 

imford 

andE 

Y.  Judd, 

,unde 

.C.  G. 

■he  book  will 

labulal 

alter  the  Penn.  pUtem,  and  also  descriptive 

NwYonic;    IS,  s8.  J.,  W,  «, 

58.  a88 

1«, 

S3.  JI6.  3*8,  370, 

480,505,  50S,  5".  Jt9.  W»-97,  609- 

S,  6sa,  63. 

443 

6S4-S9. 

665-68,  67,,  677-78,  710. 

,70^,    Chap.  VIII.  (t4-.oo)  deKn 

bes  the 

,h=  spp 

to  il. 

with  be* 

means  ol  getting  ■  bicycle  carried  " 

'  by  '"T. 

horse 

s;  Chap. 

XII.  (ijo-sS),  Long  Island  sud  Sia 

en  Isl 

nd;   Chap, 

(i^),  Lak 

CJeorg 

Hudson;  Chap.  XV.  (iwJoS), 

curuoni  from  Ihe  same  valley 

and  Niagara,— whh  an  abstnc 

front  Harlem  10  Port  Chester 

.A.77..r8..8j,3).i   Piid^l 

p.,,,  thai  "I  once  managed  to 

ba«^  upon  the  word  "  climbed 

whetberallthe-dimbing"  w. 

Ihe  riding  up  of  the  hill  in '86. 

detract  from  Ihe  glory  due  any  ( 

■  ipecially  powerful  hill-dimbc 

Anyhow,  1  have  no  wish  to  clai 

•i  right  thai  some  payment  should 
liut  I  hope  that  bicyclers,  whether 
against  paying  any  transportation 


;hipler  a  pieleii  for  pereonally  pledging 


IS  being  thus  pltdged. 


Dolably  good  re 


584  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

that  the  city's  noblest  avenue  shall  never  be  cut  and  bound  by  the  vulg^  tyranny  of  the  iron 
rails.  Their  formal  threat,  however,  forced  the  friends  of  the  avenue  to  at  once  enliven  it  with 
an  omnibus  line,  and  improved  vehicles  were  put  upon  the  same  at  the  close  o^Sept,  '86. 
These  run  from  the  Bleecker  st.  station  of  the  elevated  r.  r.,  just  below  Washington  Sq.,to  Cen- 
tral Park,  at  59th  st. ;  and  I  advise  a  trial  thereof,  on  the  driver's  seat,  by  every  visitor  who 
wishes  to  see  the  city  and  enjoy  the  best  attainable  substitute  which  it  now  offers  for  a  ride  on 
top  of  the  good  old  Broadway  'bus.  Contracts  for  the  re-paving  of  Fifth  av.,  which  involve  an 
immense  expenditure  of  money,  have  been  awarded  since  the  spring  of  '85,  and  troubles  have 
arisen  on  account  of  the  inspector's  refusal  to  accept  inferior  work.  Commenting  on  these,  the 
World  has  openly  charged  "  corruption  "  as  the  real  reason  for  New  York's  stolid  sticking  to 
stone  blocks,  in  face  of  the  universally  acknowledged  superiority  of  asphalt.  It  says  that  con- 
tractors for  the  latter  pavement  can  be  held  strictly  to  their  promises,  because  bad  work  is  so 
easily  detected  tliat  it  does  n't  pay ;  whereas  contractors  for  stone  blocks  can  hoodwink  all  but 
the  most  scientific  and  painstaking  of  inspectors,  and  can  with  difficulty  be  convicted  of  actual 
fraud  in  respect  to  material  and  workmanship.  Hence  they  can  afford  a  bribery-fund  for  the 
winning  of  every  contract  away  from  the  asphalt-men,  whose  narrow  margin  of  fair  profit  forces 
them  to  be  honest.  I  know  nothing  as  to  the  truth  of  this  all-too-plausible  tlieory ;  but  I  feel 
disheartened  by  tlie  unkind  fate  which  gives  another  costly  coating  of  rough  stone  blocks  to  our 
famous  "  street  of  palaces,"  and  thus  postpones  beyond  my  life-time  the  happy  day  when  the 
bicycler  can  glide  northward  from  Washington  Square  on  as  smooth  a  surface  as  he  might  find 
along  the  show-streets  of  other  civilized  capitals. 

Horse-car  tracks  now  somewhat  impair  the  pleasure  of  riding  on  the  Boulevard,  from  59th 
to  135th  St. ;  and  another  new  line  runs  from  the  latter  s.  e.  to  £.  x  loth  st.  and  through  it  to 
ferry,  where  boat  may  be  taken  across  to  Astoria.  Cars  also  run  through  42nd  st.  directly  from 
the  West  Shore  ferry  to  the  central  r.  r.  terminus  on  4th  av.  Since  p.  98  was  printed,  "  the 
fence  "  has  been  removed  from  the  xi6th  st.  station  on  8th  av.,  so  that  new  payment  of  fare  is 
no  longer  needed  in  making  transfer  between  trains  going  in  opposite  directions.  The  rate  was 
reduced  to  5  c.  at  all  hours,  on  all  the  elevated  lines,  Oct.  i,  '86.  The  same  fare  also  prevaib 
on  Brooklyn's  elevated  r.  r.,  which  was  opened  between  the  big  Bridge  and  Elast  New  Yofk 
in  the  summer  of  '85.  On  Sundajrs,  when  D.,  L.  &  W.  trains  do  not  run,  the  best  mode  of 
transfer  between  N.  Y.  and  the  "  Orange  triangle  "  (p.  159)  is  given  by  the  Erie  (33rd  st.  and 
Chambers  st.,  about  8.30  a.  m.  ;  no  charge  for  wheels),  to  Bloomfield  av.  in  Newark,  or  Main 
St.  in  O., — returning  about  5  p.  m.  An  excellent  cycling  map  of  the  "  triangle  "  (x  m.  to  i  in.) 
showing  Its  mac.  and  other  good  roads,  is  on  the  same  sheet  with  3  similar  map)s,  showing  the 
chief  roads  of  Long  Island,  w.  of  a  line  drawn  from  Cold  Spring  Harbor  to  Amity ville, — which 
sheet  accompanies  the  "  Long  Island  Road-Book"  (pub.  Mar.,  '86,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Brooklyn  B.  C,  by  A.  B.  Barkman ;  94  PP->  incl.  X3  adv.  pp. ;  cloth  and  gilt ;  weight  3  ox. ;  price 
%i ;  see  pp.  635,  678).  This  book  also  contains  smaller  maps  of  the  whole  island  and  of  Staten 
Island,  described  on  pp.  X58,  178,  as  good  features  of  Wood's  road-book  of  Penn.  and  N.  J., 
on  which  it  is  modeled.  All  these  maps  will  be  given  with  the  League's  official  "  Road-Book 
of  New  York,"  together  with  the  most  important  of  the  printed  information  about  the  L.  I.  and 
S.  I.  roads ;  but  I  nevertheless  urge  that  every  cycler  or  pedestrian  or  horse-driver  who  travels 
on  either  island  ought  to  buy  this  compact  little  book,  for  its  many  special  features.  Besides  the 
ao  pp.  of  tabulated  routes  on  L.  I.,  there  are  33  others,  including  nearly  all  those  described  in 
my  N.  J.  chapter,  and  through  routes  from  Philadelphia  to  Boston,  from  N.  Y.  to  Albany,  and 
around  Greenwood  Lake  and  the  Berkshire  Hills.  The  index  gives  references  to  350  towns. 
The  topography,  scenery  and  roads  of  both  islands  are  all  intelligently  described,  outside  of  the 
tables,  and  full  details  are  given  as  to  the  ferries,  horse-cars,  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  lines  which  connect 
their  towns  with  the  city.  A  chapter  of  interesting  facts  and  opinions  as  to  "  The  Law  of 
Cycling  "  (5  pp.)  is  contributed  by  I.  B.  Potter,  a  lawyer  of  N.  Y.  The  index  to  the  '86  ed.  of 
Penn.  road-book  (see  p.  580)  refers  to  343  N.  Y.  towns,  in  a  total  of  1566,  and  the  book  has  a 
good  miniature  map  of  the  "  city  riding  district,"  showing  the  chief  roads  below  Yonkers.  This 
map  will  doubtless  be  reproduced  in  the  official  road-book  of  the  New  York  Division,  which  the 


SUMMARY  BY  STATES:    NEW  YORK.  585 

BidUHm.  sajfs  (Dec.  17,  '86,  p.  593)  will  probably  appear  in  Mar.  and  contain  about  200  pp.,  on 
the  Peon,  model.  Present  members  of  the  Division  will  each  receive  a  free  copy,  but  those  who 
join  during  the  and,  3rd  and  4th  quarters  must  respectively  pay  13  c,  25  c.  and  37  c.  for  the 
book,  whose  price  to  other  League  men,  and  to  persons  not  eligible  to  membership,  will  be  ^i. 
All  letters  concerning  this,  or  the  "  L.  I.  Road-Book,"  should  be  sent  to  the  compiler,  A.  B. 
Barkman,  608  Fourth  av.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  (appointed  Bookmaster  of  League,  Dec.  18,  *86). 

The  rules  of  Dec.  4,  '84,  for  the  restriction  of  cycling  in  Central  Park  (p.  94),  have  not  beeq 
liberalized  in  the  two  years  since, — except,  I  believe,  that  the  queer  discrimination  against  tricy- 
cles has  been  revoked.  My  impression  is  that  the  lack  of  an  "  official  badge  "  on  his  left  breast 
never  causes  a  mature  rider  to  be  dismissed  from  the  Riverside  Drive,  after  he  is  once  fairly 
upon  it,  and  that  even  the  keepers  of  its  terminal  entrances  very  rarely  turn  such  a  man  back 
(thus  forcing  him  to  gain  his  rights  furtively,  through  one  of  the  numerous  side^pproaches) ;  but 
the  gates  of  Central  Park  itself  are  more  carefully  guarded,  and  the  rule  of  carrying  a  lighted 
lantern  after  dark  is  strictly  enforced  there,  even  though  the  absence  of  badge  be  passed  un- 
noticed. The  Whttloi  Oct.  29,  '86,  printed  a  letter  addressed  to  the  Park  Commissioners  by 
the  N.  Y.  B.  C.  and  Ixion  B.  C,  as  an  accompaniment  to  a  petition  that  wheelmen  be  now  put 
on  an  equality  with  other  citizens,  in  respect  to  having  equal  rights  upon  all  the  drive-ways  of 
the  parks.—just  as  in  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Chicago,  and  all  other  civilized  cities.  The  let- 
ter gives  a  statement  of  facts,  in  five  paragraphs,  showing  that,  "  as  not  a  single  accident  from 
collision  of  bi.  or  tri.  with  other  vehicle,  horse  or  pedestrian  has  happened  in  nearly  3  years'  ex- 
perience upon  the  most-frequented  roads  controlled  by  the  commissioners,  there  is  no  logic  in 
excluding  cydes  from  the  other  and  leas-frequented  roads,  as  if  they  were  peculiarly  dangerous 
or  obnoxious  vehicles."  The  petition  itself  received  the  signatures  of  several  hundred  wheel- 
men (the  two  clubs  making  a  thorough  canvass  of  all  League  members  in  the  city),  and  many 
independent  endorsements  of  it  were  addressed  directly  to  the  commissioners  by  citizens  who  are 
not  cyclers.  The  committee  of  the  clubs  also  had  personal  intervievrs  with  the  commissioners, 
the  president  of  whom,  H.  R.  Beekman,  was  Democratic  candidate  for  the  presidency  of  the 
Board  of  Aldermen ;  and  they  recommended  all  cyclers  to  vote  for  him,  as  an  assured  supporter 
of  their  claim  to  equal  rights  upon  all  the  city  roads.  He  received  about  10,000  majority  at  the 
election  of  Nov.  a.  In  case  the  commissioners  persist  in  a  stolid  refusal  to  do  justice,  the  next 
organized  endeavor  will  probably  take  the  form  of  pressure  through  the  New  York  Legislature. 

The  Brooklyn  cor.  of  the  BuUttin  (Nov.  19,  '86,  p.  512)  reports  a  recent  satisfactory  inter- 
view of  the  local  wheelmen's  committee  with  the  governors  of  Prospect  Park,  ^*  leading  to  a 
belief  that,  in  the  spring,  cycles  will  be  allowed  on  all  the  roads  of  the  park  except  the  East  Drive 
from  the  main  entrance  to  the  end  of  the  woods  beyond  the  Deer  Paddock.  This  will  give  a 
circuit  of  about  4  m.  The  question  as  to  badges  is  still  in  abeyance,  but  it  is  believed  that  the 
wearing  of  them  will  be  strictly  enforced  when  we  obtain  the  increased  privileges."  The  latter 
allusion  is  to  an  absurd  rule,  included  among  a  series  adopted  in  Aug.,  '85  (printed  in  full  by 
ffXcr/of  Sept.  19,  and  by  "  L.  L  Road-Book,"  Mar.,  '86),  which  says  that  each  wheelman 
must  register  his  name  and  address  at  the  office  of  the  Chief  Engineer  and  Superintendent,  at  the 
Litchfield  Mansion,  in  the  park,  and  there  learn  of  a  certain  time  and  place  for  giving  an  exhi- 
bition of  his  skill  to  a  committee  of  the  clubs,  who  will  issue  to  him  a  certificate,  if  he  is  worthy 
of  a  riding-badge.  Returning  then  to  the  mansion^ with  this  certificate  and  50  c,  he  is  given  a 
circular-badge,  larger  and  uglier  than  the  cart-wheel  silver  dollar,  and  told  that  he  must  wear  it 
"  conspicuously  on  the  left  breast,"  whenever  he  rides  in  the  park,  or  on  the  boulevards  which 
extend  e.  from  its  main  entrance  and  s.  from  its  lower  entrance  to  Coney  Island  (but  Central 
Park  badges,  when  worn  by  visitors  from  the  city,  will  be  recognized  as  a  proper  substitute ;  and 
other  visitors  may  procure  temporary  permits,  at  certain  times  and  places  whereof  they  may  learo 
at  the  Litchfield  Mansion).  So  stands  the  law  of  Aug.,  '85  ;  but  no  badges  were  really  issued 
until  June,  '86,  "  and  in  Aug. ,  after  about  I300  worth  had  been  sold,  applicants  were  told  that 
the  badge  was  no  longer  required."  If  it  be  true  that  so  unnecessary  and  contemptible  an  in- 
fringement of  personal  liberty  was  nominally  adopted  by  the  commissioners  "  at  the  suggestion 
of  the  most  experienced  riders  in  the  Brooklyn  clubs,"  the  names  of  those  misguided  ones  ought 


586  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCL 

to  be  nailed  up  for  geoerai  execration.    I  do  not  believe  that  any  competent  l, 
dismissed  from  Brooklyn's  boulevards  for  lack  of  a  badge ;  and  I  hope  that  tl. 
chief  pleasure-park,  who  have  been  warmly  praised  by  me  for  intelligence  ai.>' 
92),  will  never  disgrace  it  and  themselves  by  favoring  any  such  silly  fluminc 
badge-wearing  for  those  who  wish  to  wheel  within  its  limits.    The  only  prete\' 
of  for  even  making  the  threat  of  such  a  thing — after  6  years'  safe  experience  w  ■'*   ' 
unregistered  wheelmen  in  Prospect  Park — ^was  the  death  of  a  little  girl  (June  3  **" 
by  a  careless  boy,  riding  at  dangerous  speed  upon  one  of  the  park  walks,  who  '"> 
bicycle  and  let  it  fall  upon  her.     But  he  made  no  attempt  to  sneak  away  from  t^"  • 
of  his  unfortunate  act,  and  he  was  duly  forthcoming  when  the  jury  ordered  hi«  '•*'• 
ble  negligence.     I  suppose  the  illogical  public,  who  take  no  thought  of  the  hunHt- 
annually  killed  by  horses  and  wagons,  raised  some  sort  of  a  clamor  over  the  event  • 
restrictions  of  Ai%.,  '85,  were  proclaimed  by  way  of  peace-o£Eering.    They  were 
cept  the  "  badge  order,"  which  has  always  been  a  dead-letter),  a  logical  and  practn 
ment  on  previous  rules,  for  they  gave  wheelmen  the  right  of  way  through  the  park. 
Drive,  instead  of  on  the  sidewalks,  at  all  hot^    Even  the  restrictions  as  to  stu<.  ■ 
only  to  the  half-year,  May  i  to  Oct.  31,  and  to  the  hours  10  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m.  during  >. 
for,  at  all  other  times,  all  the  paths  may  be  ridden  upon, — and  the  paths  from  u.w 
to  the  flower  garden  at  the  lake,  may  be  ridden  upon  at  all  times. 

In  Aug.,  '86,  the  Brooklyn  B.  C.  leased  the  three-story  brick  dwelling  at  li. 
which  is  within  a  half-block  of  the  asphalt,  and  abandoned  366  Livingston  &v 
The  L.  I.  Wheelmen,  having  absorbed  the  Bedford  C.  C,  are  now  (Dec,  ' 
larger  quarters.  C.  Schwalbach  will  use  their  old  house  as  a  bi.  agency.    Since  p.  ^ 
the  three  clubs  there  named  have  all  changed  their  abodes, — ^the  time  of  transfer 
cases  being  about  the  ist  of  May,  '86.    The  N.   Y.  B.   C.  now  have  the  ho.. 
58th  St ;  the  Citizens  B.  C,  328  W.  6oth  (newly  numbered  as  "  a6  W.  6oth  '\ 
C,  351  W.  59th  St.  (Oct.,'85),  and  the  Harlem  Wheelmen  104  W.  124th  st.  (for  11 
see  pp.  772-4) ;  while  the  Citizens'  former  house,  313  W.  58th  St.,  is  now  leaued  a^ 
room,  riding  school  and  repair-shop,  by  G.  R.  Bidwell,  who  has  taken  thither  t' 
credited  to  him  on  p.  96,  as  at  E.  6oth  st.    The  new  numbering  of  the  Citizens' 
results  from  an  edict  of  the  aldermen,  in  the  autumn  of  '86,  that  the  streets  ru 
Ontral  Park  (6oth  to  109th  ind.)  shall  have  their  houses  numbered  i,  2,  3  and  <^< 
av.  (which  is  the  w.  border  of  the  park),  just  as  if  it  were  5th  av.,  which  is  the  pa-'  * 
As  explained  on  pp.  65-66,  the  "  e.I'  and  "  w."  enumeration,  for  the  whole  regio' 
ington  Square,  has  hitherto  started  from  5th  av.  as  a  central  line ;  and  that  so  ii  * 
convenient  a  system  should  be  thrown  into  confusion,  for  the  sake  of  gratifying  **- 
those  residents  who  object  to  '*  unfashionably  high  numbers  "  (see  p.  452),  sceni^^  -*  ' 
suited  to  fickle  Paris  than  sedate  America. 

Since  my  reports  about  Niagara  were  put  in  type  (pp.  203,  215,  325),  the  en'  ■ 
noble  waterfall  have  been  formally  assumed  by  the  State  of  New  York,  for  a  pub'-' 
I  Si  '85)1  ^"^^  (be  tourist  is  thus  given  a  new  motive  for  turning  his  wheel  thither,  an'^  * 
his  own  eyes  how  grand  a  piece  of  nature  has  been  everlastingly  rescued  from  th'>  - 
and  the  hackmen.     I  have  been  told  that  many  charming  views  along  the  Hudsor  ^ 
and  the  hill-climbing  between  Yonkers  and  Hastings  may  at  the  same  time  be  <l^- 
sttad  of  walking  up  the  rough  hill  at  the  end  of  Warburton  av.  (as  noted  at  foot  ^' 
tourist  keeps  due  n.  on  the  aqueduct ;  for  the  2  or  3  fences  which  cross  it  can  be  e.i 
My  remark  (p.  81)  that  a  tourist  had  best  turn  inland  from  the  Hudson  at  Piermon* 
and  other  towns,  "  because  the  path  on  top  of  the  Palisades,  from  Alpine  to  S.,  \^'  - 
ably  demand  more  walking  than  riding,"  deserves  modification  by  these  words  of  .■ 
plorer  (IFA^tf/,  Aug.  13,  '86) :    "  In  approaching  A.  from  s.,  a  large  white  house  01.  '^ 
is  a  sort  of  landmark,  for  there  the  av.  turns  somewhat  to  I.,  up  a  long  hill,  by  the-    ' 
rocks ;  a  branch  road  t.  r.;  and  a  short  road  (1.),  slightly  up-hill,  leads  to  A.  itself,  <- 
may  go  to  Nyack  by  coasting  down  a  rather  rough  and  sandy  hill,  and  following  th<. 


some  payment  should 
'liat  bicyclers,  whether 
"g  »ny  transportalion 


-ilile  Ihe  actompluh- 
i'  plan  of  me  book 
'■*ii»llr  pledging  10 


"ID'PF'*!, 


"CXIV. 

•ORTATION  TAX. 

It  seems  right  thai  some  payment  should 
used ;  but  1  hope  that  bicyclers,  whelher 
J  firm  against  paying  any  transportation 


il  plin  oi  my  boDi 
»i>a11y  pledging  I. 


ian>  under  which  public 
la.    Th«  nnurkible  > 


II  here  u  bejn;  Ihui  pledged 


S88 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


A  map  of  the  dty  of  Buffalo  (40  by  26  in.,  about  i  m.  to  i  in.)  compiled  by  Wm.  McMillaa, 
Park  Superintendent,  and  showing  the  park  system,  is  published  by  Matthews,  Northrup  &  Co., 
at  the  office  of  the  Excess ;  and  another  one  (a8  by  18  in.,  about  |  m.  to  i  in.)  is  puUished  by 
Peter  Paul  &  Bro.,  at  363  Main  st.  The  attractions  of  the  dty  as  a  scene  for  the  sixth  annual 
meet  of  the  League  were  thus  described  (S.  W.  G.,  June,  1885) :  "  Buffalo  is  full  of  trees  and 
foliage,  and  is  constantly  fanned  by  breezes  from  the  lake,  so  that  it  is  always  cool  and  shady  in 
summer  time.  It  has  a  beautiful  system  of  drive-ways,  and  parks,  and  more  m.  of  asphalt  paving 
than  any  other  dty  except  Washington.  The  streets  up-town  are  lined  with  handsome  resi- 
dences, and  bordered  with  rows  of  large  trees,  making  at  once  pleasing  contrasts  in  architecture, 
and  a  grateful  shade  for  the  wheelman  as  he  spins  over  the  smooth  surface  of  the  roadway. 
Delaware  av.  is  the  longest  of  these ;  but  some  of  the  side  streets,  such  as  North,  may  fairly  vie 
with  it  in  the  beauty  of  their  buildings.  Both  Delaware  av.  and  North  st.  are  asphalted,  as  t> 
also  Linwood  av. — a  broad  and  beautiful  street  one  block  east  of  Delaware.  By  way  of  North 
St.  the  wheelman  reaches  '  the  circle,'  a  broad,  drcular  plaza,  from  which  wide  and  handsome 
streets  radiate  in  all  directions.  This  is  the  grand  rendezvous  for  Buffalo  wheelmen,  and  almost 
all  the  club  runs  and  tours  start  from  it.  Northwestward  stretches  the  broad,  smooth  maraHam 
surface  of  Porter  avenue,  by  which  is  reached  '  the  front,'  a  small  park  with  graveled  drive- 
ways  and  foot-paths,  a  splendid  green  lawn,  and  a  terraced  green  slope  dotted  with  trees 
and  shrubs.  Here  is  obtained  the  first  good  view  of  Lake  Erie.  At  the  northern  end  of  '  the 
front '  stands  the  military  post  known  as  Fort  Porter,  occupied  by  two  companies  of  the  asd  U. 
S.  Infantry.  A  part  of  the  old  redoubt  is  still  standing,  and  from  its  top,  60  ft.  above  the  Lake, 
a  fine  view  is  obtained."  More  detailed  accounts  of  the  fine  wheeling  offered  by  the  dty  were 
printed  in  the  BnlUiin  (Aug.  6,  Aug.  13,  Nov.  la,  '86;  pp.  ia8,  154,  497), — the  latest  being  by 
F.  J.  Shepard,  of  the  Buffalo  Courier^  who  describes  the  process  of  laying  the  universally 
popular  asphalt,  whereof  the  dty  now  boasts  nearly  30  m.  At  585  Main  St.,  E.  N.  Boweo 
(a  practical  mechanic,  the  successor  of  Bull  &  Bowen)  makes  a  specialty  of  bi.  repairs. 

New  Jbksbv  :  28,  31,  4a,  51,  64,  72,  155,  157,  158,  295,  387,  487,  500,  593-4,  609-10,  6ia, 
617,  618,  628,  631,  643, 668-9, 733,  776-8.  Chap.  XIII.  (159-78)  gives  my  own  explorations  here, 
supplemented  on  pp.  80-85,  S^S-  Reports  of  local  riders,  164,  170,  508-10,  521-2,  530.  Maps 
and  guides,  99,  zoo,  159, 168, 174-8,  589.  Nos.  1,9,  13  and  17  of  the  official  atlas  (p.  178)  reached 
me  Mar.  19,  '86  ;  and,  at  about  the  same  time,  a  map  showing  good  and  bad  roads  for  5  to  8  ro.  out 
of  Westfield  was  issued  by  Dr.  F.  A.  Kinch,  jr.,  League  consul.  A  large-scale  map  of  "  the 
Orange  triangle,"  reproduced  from  the  dty  directory  but  having  the  mac  roads  specially  marked, 
is  sold  for  15  c.  by  L»  H.  Johnson  (biog.  on  p.  508),  whose  new  and  handsome  store,  for  the  sale 
and  rent  of  cydes,  is  close  beside  the  East  Orange  station  of  the  D.,  L.  &  W.  r.  r.  I  know  of  do 
other  place  where  ladies  of  the  metropolis  may  so  conveniently  and  unobtrusively  learn  the  art 
of  tricyding,— or  start  forth  on  so  many  easy  and  pleasantly-varied  tri.  runs,  with  their  friends, 
when  they  have  grown  experienced  in  the  art.  Several  smooth  streets  lead  from  the  store  into 
almost  immediate  retirement ;  and  beginners  can  practice  in  peace  along  these  shaded  levels  and 
gentle  grades,  without  dread  of  any  such  observation  and  comment  as  may  attach  to  first  trials 
in  the  rec^ion  of  Central  Park.  Trains  are  frequent,  and  the  round  trip  costs  but  50  c.  On  June 
20,  '86,  between  midnight  and  10.27  p.  m.,  Mr.  J.  and  his  wife  drove  a  Beeston  Humber  tandem 
150I  m.  (r.  t.,  16  h.  37  min.)  over  a  tolerably  level  drcuit  of  13  m.  The  first  60  m.  were  done  at 
6.25  A.  M.  (stop  for  breakfast  till  8.5) ;  100%  m.  at  12.40  p.  m.  (stop  for  dinner  and  nap  till  3.5) ; 
next  30  m.  at  6.35  (stop  for  supper  till  8).  Various  friends  went  with  them,  as  pace-makers,  for 
most  of  the  distance ;  and  the  tri.  used  was  the  same  on  which  they  made  an  English  tonr  of 
858  m.  in  Oct.,  '85  (p.  530).  As  regards  the  illegal  local  by-laws  mentioned  at  foot  of  p.  725,  Mr. 
J.  wrote  to  me,  Dec.  28  :  "  No  one  has  been  arrested  for  breaking  them,  althoogh  they  are 
universally  broken."  On  p.  8a,  the  "disagreeable  suburb  of  Newark"  should  not  be  called 
"  Marion,"  for  that  name  belongs  to  the  Penn.  r.  r.  station  at  Bergen  hill.  In  bad  weather, 
the  preferable  route  from  N.  to  N.  Y.  is  the  one  named  at  foot  of  p.  8s ;  but  at  other  times, 
when  neither  mud,  frost,  nor  deep  dust  prevail,  the  best  route  is  along  the  sidewalk  of  Broad 
St.  and  Belleville  av.  2  m.,  mac.  3  m.,  to  cross-roads,  where  descend  r.  across  bridge  at  Avoodalc, 


SUMMARY  BY  STA  TES :  NEW  JERSEY.  589 

asd  follow  side-pathB  and  board-wallui  3}  iq.  to  Carlstadt,  where  descend  r.  by  ao^alled  Patenon 
road  and  crou  the  marshes  (pp.  166,  i6S>  ^.  From  C  to  the  mac  of  Bergea  Liqe  Buuievard 
(/.  #.,  to  the  top  of  the  West  Shore  tunuei,  p.  84)  is  6|  nv»  which  I  found  all  ridable,  Apr.  19,  '86, 
when  I  covered  it  in  the  opposite  direction.  I  wheeted  dowu  a  steep  hill  at  the  first  1.  turu  s.  of 
the  tuonel  to  the  Kackeuaack  road  (|  m.),at  a  point  a  little  s.  of  the  toU-gate  at  the  cem<£tcry 
(p,.  84) ;  then  west  s.  ^  m. ',  then  t.  r.  to  the  marshes  i(  m.  to  fork,  where  t.  r.  and  went  a  m.  to 
second  bridge,  where  road-honse  sign  says  "  9  m«  to  Patersou."  Between  here  and  r.  r.  at  foot 
ol  hill  at  C.  i»  i\  m.  of  dayi  which  would  give  trouble  in,  wet  weather.  A  rider  from  C.  to  N. 
Y.  need  not  t.  vUf  after  crossing  marshes,  bi^t  n)ay  go  directly  up-hill  to  a  point  near  the  Monas- 
tery, and  thence  to  ferries  entering  the  city  at  Jay  st.^  14th  St.,  42nd  st.  or  130th  si.,  as  shown  on 
pp.  81,  84,  166.  5^  It  he  prefers  my  own  route  to  the  Boulevard,  hd  may  thence  get  to  the 
ferries  with  equal  ease.  As  regards  extendiog  this,mac-  ,Boul.  12  m.  s.  to  S.  jL.,— mentioned  on 
Pb  84  as  a  remote  possibiiUyt— the  Governor  of  N.  J.  has  lately  decided  that  the  vote  in  favor  of 
it.  w«s  legal,  and  work  will  soon  be  begun  i,^htel,  Nov.  a6,  '86,  p»  94;.  In  BiOietm  (Oct.  8, 
'86,  p.  388).  William  Prince,  of  Orangey  gave  an  extended  history  of  roads  in  that  region,  and 
short  riding  routea  beyond  it.    The  moAt  extensive  cycling  trade  in  the  State  is  accredited  to.H. 

A.  Smith  &  Co,,  who  succeeded,  in  the  spring  of  '86,  to  the  "Z.  &  S."  good-will  at  Oraton 
Hall,  Ne^vark  (pp.  83,  71a),  and  .whose  "  comer-store  "  still  serves  as  a  wheelman's  If^n^lmark. 

Pbnnsylvania  I  la,  aS,  3i,44»  44i  46, 8a,  99,  168,  i77»  «78|  922,  asS^ 296, 390,  joa,  323,  337, 
347.  479»  4»Sf  4»7.  S«>,  503»  5«»f  »«»  593-^*  609-10,  617-18.  625,  6a8, 631,  643, 65a,  660,  674i  677, 
678,  778-81.  My  rides  along  I^ke  Erie,  20576;  ^long  the  Delaware  to  the  Water  Usip,  20/^  to 
Bristol  and  Phila.,  1731  va,  P*i  338;  P.- to  Chester,  372;  Xowaoda  to  Wilkesbairre,  219-20; 
straight  across  the  State,  Susquehanna  to  Greencastle,  339-44*  ^^V^  Waynesboro  to  Gettysbujig 
and  Eaaton<i65  m.>,^85-7.    W.  W.  DomeU's  tour,  Phila.  to  Meyeradale  (322  m.),  244.    W. 

B.  Page's  tours,  Phila.  to  Pittsbui^g  (339  m.),  496;  WiJIiainsport  to  (^encastle  (205  m.),  49S; 
Phila..  to  Water  Gap  and  beyond,  497,  57S;  H.  J.  High's  tour,  Pottstown  to  Pittsburg  (281  m.), 
4Ss».iSi»  In  the  AUeghaoies,  aiSi  530.  Susquehaniia  tow-path,  378.  Trips  fron)  ,Sci>anton, 
3401  Beaver  Valley,  515.  Environs  of  Phila.,  164,  377,  388-9,  49S»  497,  499t  5"»  .Wihocver 
atienpu  any  louring  in  this  State  should  carry  wuh  him  the  League's  official  road-4x>ok,  whose, 
ist ed.  is Imliy  desfiriised on  p.  177, and  whose  3rd  ed. (2000 printed,  Apr>f  *86;.ao3  pp.{, 8map6) 
is  revised  an4  enls^iged  fay  the  addition  of  48  {h>.,  with  an  index  referring  to  658  Penn.>  towns  on 
the  tabulated  routes.  Peon.,  N.  J.  and  Md.  members  receive  the  book  gratis;  other  League 
men  may  biiy  it  for  |i,  but  it  is  not  sold  to  wheelmen  who  do  not  join  the  League.  Ali  visitors 
are  welcomed,  however,  at  the  rooms  of  the  Phila.  "Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Cy* 
ding,"  s  S.  Merrick  St.,  opp.  the  Public  Buildings.  The.4<iclicatory  m.ieting  was  on  Apr.  19, 
'86,  when  £.  M.  Aaron  was  chosen  president,  He  may  be  found  also  at  the  office  of  the  L,  A, 
ly.  BMiktin^  S06  Walnut  st.,  Room  12.  Dedication  was  made  Dec.  3,  '86,  of  the  Phila.  B.  C.*s 
new  building,  at  oor.  of  26th  and  Perot  sta.,  whose  cost  was  about  ^17,000 ;  and  another  expen- 
sive structtire  is  in  process  of  erection  by  the  Penn.  B.  C.  (pp.  779-80).  The  chief  house  in  the 
cycling  trade  of  Phila.  is  at  8ti  Arch  st.,  conducted  by  H.  B.  Hart,  one  of  the  founders  of  the 
League,  and  a  local  pioneer  in  the  literature  and  business  of  the  sport  (see  pp.  65o,  665.  780). 

Dblawarb:  31,  177,  344,  521,  596,  617,  618,  628,  631,  7S1.  Map,  35a.  My  22  m.  ride 
across  the  State,  372-3.  A  fine  route  of  about  68  m.,  from  Wilmington  to  Tolchester,  Md., 
whence  boat  may  be  taken  to  Baltimore,  12  m.,  is  reported  {BuUetiny  Dec.  17,  '86,  p.  595)  by  J. 
E.  Palmer,  c  c  of  League's  Del.  Division  (org.  Nov.  24,  '86,  with  C.  W.  Todd  as  sec.-treas.). 

Maryland  :  12,  31,  4a,  99,  177,  244.  486,  487,  $00,  592,  594,  609,  617,  618, 628,  631,  643, 
781-a.  Map,  3sa.  My  '81  ride  of  26  m.  from  Frederick  to  Williamsport  and  125  m.  00  C  &  O. 
canal  path.  238-42  ;  tour  of  '83  through  W.,  303,  344;  through  Baltimore  in  '84,  373-4;  second 
experience  of  tow-path  and  Hagerstown,  384.  Other  tourists  on  C.  &  Q.  patJi,  344-5,  343 ;  be- 
tween Bait,  and  Washinp^ton,  349,  371,  377,  388,  486-7,  497.  Environs  of  Bait.,  377.  National 
pike  in  old  times,  243.  The  3rd  ed.  of  League's  guide,  described  above,  contains  a  key^map  o^ 
reported  roods  in  Md.,  with  12  pp.  of  tabulated  routes  and  an  index  to  112  towns  named  upon 
them ;  also  a  detailed  account  of  the  Bait,  riding  district  and  a  sketch  of  the  general  topography 


590  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

of  the  State.  Latest  local  information  for  tourists  may  be  had  in  Bait,  at  a  Hanover  st.,  where 
the  largest  cycling  store  in  Md.  (the  largest  in  the  U.  S.,  indeed,  s.  of  Phila.)  is  carried  on  by 
S.  T.  Clark,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  League  and  its  recording  secretary  during  the  second 
year.  He  was  for  a  longtime  Pres.  of  the  Md.  B.  C,  whose  elegant  club-house,  costing $12,000, 
was  specially  built,  of  brick,  is  3  stories  high,  34  by  80  ft.  in  size,  and  contains  a  gymnasium. 

District  of  Columbia  :  31,  497,  503,  508,  511,  594,  610,  617,  618,  628,  631,  782.  Map, 
352.  My  rides  in  Washington,  241, 371,  374.  Suburban  routes,  376.  BulUtin  (Sept.  3,  '86,  p. 
232)  gave  an  account  of  the  District  and  its  environs,  by  N.  L.  CoUamer.  On  Dec.  4,  '86,  the 
Capital  6.  C.  dedicated  a  $20,000  club-house  on  isth  st.;  and  its  front  was  pictured  in  CycU. 

Virginia:  31,  42,  46,  169,  173,  176,  177,  204,  208,  242,  296,  303,  487,  508,  593,  594, 
610,  617,  618,  628,  631,  782.  Maps  and  guide-books,  245,  346,  352,  382.  My  '83  tour  up  the 
Shenandoah  to  Staunton,  543-5 ;  '84  tour  from  the  Potomac  to  Bull  Run  and  Warrenton,  374-76, 
over  the  Blue  Ridge  to  Luray  and  down  the  Shenandoah  to  Harper's  Ferry,  378-84.  Capital 
B.  C.  tour.  Harper's  Ferry  to  Natural  Bridge  and  back,  348-9,  382.  W.  B.  Page's  rides  in  the 
Shenandoah  and  elsewhere,  49S-98,  578.  H.  J.  High's  rough  route  to  Staunton,  486,  351.  H. 
S.  Wood  in  Shenandoah,  388.  Other  Va.  roads,  351,  376.  Topography  of  the  Shenandoah, 
347.  R.  r.  connections  between  Natural  Bridge  and  Luray,  350-51, 382.  The  Shenandoah  pike, 
between  Martinsbuxg  and  Staunton,  offers  a  course  for  a  longer  and  more  interesting  road-race 
than  has  yet  been  wheeled  in  America ;  and,  if  the  proper  conditions  could  be  ensured  to  me, 
I  should  rather  like  to  assume  the  management  of  such  a  contest.  The  first  condition  is  that 
the  manufacturers  (who  would  be  profited  by  a  demonstration  of  that  sort  in  a  region  so  well 
adapted  for  the  use  of  the  bicycle  as  an  economical  vehicle  for  every-day  business)  should  pro- 
vide me  with  money  enough  to  pay  for  perfect  arrangements.  The  second  condition  is  that  the 
owners  of  the  road,  and  the  officers  of  the  towns  situated  upon  it,  should  enter  heartily  into  the 
scheme,  and  co-operate  with  me  in  maintaining  an  efficient  police. 

Kentucky:  30,31,  38,  50,  55,  57,58,  197,  500,  595,  609,610,  617,  6x8,628,  631,783. 
Chap.  XVI L  is  given  to  my  8  days'  tour  of  340  m.  (224-34),  and  to  reports  of  roads  in  9  counties 
by  J.  M.  Verhoefif  (235-7),  who  has  sent  other  routes  which  I  cannot  here  make  room  for.  J. 
D.  Macauley's  report,  587.  In  Bulietin  (Oct.  i,  '86,  p.  538),  N.  G.  Crawford  describes  the  Ky. 
roads,  and  says  that  a  man  may  wheel  from  them  w.  d.  into  Ind.  by  the  new  bridge  at  Louisville. 
*'  Although  some  fine  roads  are  found  in  the  s.  part  of  the  State,"  says  a  writer  in  the  Wheel 
(Jan.  23,  '85),  "  those  counties  bordering  on  the  Ohio  seem  to  be  specially  favored.  At  Ash- 
land, in  the  extreme  e.  end  are  some  nice  routes,  such  as  the  one  to  Catlettsbuig,  5  m.  Skipping 
then  to  Owensboro,  perhaps  70  m.  s.  w.  of  Louisville,  the  '  finest  gravel  pikes '  are  reported, 
like  that  to  Gelvington,  12  m.  n.  e.  Henderson  and  Paducah,  river  towns  beyond,  have  a  goodly 
showing  of  cyclers.  Augiista  to  Milford,  22  m.  s. ;  Augusta  to  Germantown,  12  m.  e. ;  Mays- 
ville  to  Germantown,  12  m.  w. ;  Newport  to  Alexandria,  13  m.  s.  e. ;  Covington  to  De  Moss- 
ville,  28  m.  s., — these  are  among  the  many  routes,  embracing  a  network  of  1500  m.  of  as  pretty 
roads  as  any  one  could  desire,  whereof  I  might  give  you  minute^  descriptions."  The  above 
words  were  signed  by  P.  N.  Myers  (b.  Sept.  16,  '66),  League  consul  at  Covington,  who  gave 
much  time  during  the  following  six  months  to  the  systematic  compilation  of  materials  for  a  State 
road-book,  which  he  hoped  that  the  Kentucky  Div.  might  publish  (see  p.  678).  Colton's  map  of 
Kentucky,  25  by  14  in.,  sells  for  50  c. ;  Kentucky  and  Tennessee  combined,  27  by  17  in.,  75  c. 


Though  I  began  this  chapter  on  Nov.  22,  the  interruptions  caused  by  proof-reading  and 
correspondence  have  combined  with  my  general  weariness  to  prevent  its  advance  at  more  than  a 
snail's  pace;  so  that,  as  I  write  these  final  lines,  midnight  of  Dec.  31  is  almost  at  hand.  The 
plates  of  pp.  591  to  800  have  already  been  cast ;  and,  much  as  I  dislike  to  cut  short  the  roll 
of  States,  there  is  no  room  left  in  which  to  print  the  facts  that  I  have  collected  about  the  others. 
I  shall  try  to  give  full  references  to  those  omitted  States  in  the  general  index ;  but  now  the  strik- 
ing clock,  which  everlastingly  knocks  out  the  Old  Year,  1886,  seems  to  say :  "  Time  's  up !  Let 
the  rest  wait  for  '  a  X.  M.' !    Stop ! "    Thus,  after  all,  I  leave  my  task  onfinished. 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX. 

"  In  the  case  of  (he  railroads,  it  seems  tight  thai  some  payment  should 
be  made  where  trouble  is  actually  caused ;  but  1  hope  that  bicyclers,  whether 
traveling  singly  or  in  clubs,  will  stand  firm  against  paying  any  transportation 
tax  at  all  to  steamboat  agents  anywhere." 

Such  were  the  final  wDrdt  of  1  four-column  article  (Bi.  World,  Miy  «,  >8i,  p.  416)  in  which 
I  detailed  mx  two  yeaia*  eipenencu  amobg  the  b4ggagt4muh«r3,  va  the  dayi  before  the  League 
made  any  utempt  10  reform  (he  chaouc  cooditioiu  under  which  publk  carriage  was  granted  10 

tion  between  boat  aod  train  cannot  be  drawn  too  iharply,  but  it  hu  been  generally  ignored  in  aU 
printed  reporta  and  discuasionB  about  the  matter.    The  remarkable  iucc«u  achieved  by  ibe 

energetic  ctiairman,  B.  B.  Ayers),  iit  pcTiuiiding  so  manyof  ttie  railroads  (a  cany  paiKngers' 

away  frooi  the  importanl  truth  that  the  lesaer  matter  of  wUer-transportalion  remaini  almoil  un. 

mcQI  of  much  from  mere  individual  effort  i  and  it  waa  a  part  of  Ibe  original  plan  of  my  book 
(bat  t  would  make  the  preparalion  of  the  present  chapter  a  pretext  for  peraonally  pledging  to 

offering  Ihem  the  free  advertiKment  of  a  mention  here  as  bdng  thus  pledged.  Lack  ol  lime 
has  forced  me  to  rcgrelEully  abandon  this  sctieme,  as  too  bvrdensoiiie  an  addition  lo  my  pro* 
traded  labora  as  a  publisher ;  but  such  steamship  managers  as  I  have  had  occauon  id  auie  the 

sure  any  eilended  canvass  would  haire  shown  a  notably  good  retail.  Since  a  bicycle,  even 
when  crated  or  boxed  for  a  long  voyage,  comes  well  within  ttic  limits  oE  space  and  weight 
allowed  a  passengcr^s  baggage,  and  since,  on  a  short  voyage,  it  does  not  require  any  handling  or 
altenlion  whatever  (as  the  owner  Irundlos  it  on  and  off  the  boat,  and  stows  ii  in  some  coavenieol 
comer),  there  is  a  plain  injustice  In  disciimtnaling  against  it.  In  a  crowded  baggage^ar,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  bicycle  may  sometimes  cause  mote  inconvenience  than  a  mink.  He|ice.  whenever 
a  railway  company  agrees  to  take  it  as  a  trunk,  the  act  should  be  reeogniied  as  a  geouine  conces- 

The  reported  eiperiences  of  others,  added  lo  my  own,  encourage  Ibe  belief,  thai  on  very 
many,  if  not  on  most,  of  the  boats  which  ply  along  our  riven,  lakes  andcoasli,  no  attempt  will 
be  made  to  levy  an  extra  tax  against  a  tourist  who  is  accompanied  by  a  bicycle.    There  are  very 
few  lioet,  lam  sure,  which  will  refuse  to  give  a  written  pledge  10  abstain  from  a 
if  the  tourist  seasonably  inusts  upon  that  pledge  as  a  condition  of  buying  his  ticki 
alily  "  1  nxean  several  days  in  advance  of  the  time  when  hfe  proposes  to  emb 
thus  be  able  to  use,  as  aa  argumentative  club,  his  determination  to  go  to  the  san 

the  desired  pledge.    The  ease  of  procuring  these  individual  permits  shows  tha 

ableness  of  proclaiming  free  carriage  as  a  general  policy.     I  therefore  ui^  eac 
Bot  to  rest  satisfied  with  simply  securing  forhimtelf  immunity  from  Impoellion, 


592  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  secure  from  the  managers  of  the  line  a  formal  letter,  authorizing  the  Transportation  Commit- 
tee of  the  League  to  announce  that  the  line  will  regularly  class  bicycles  as  passengen*  baggie. 
Setting  aside  the  abstract  justice  of  the  case  entirely,  the  practical  point  to  be  insisted  upon  is 
this :  that  bicyclers,  in  deciding  about  where  to  go  on  a  vacation-tour,  art  Mot  restricted  to  «upr 
single  loctUity.  "  The  whole  boundless  cootif  ent  is  theirs ;  "  and,  as  the  attractive  touring-plaoes 
are  inexhaustible,  they  are  under  no  possible  compulsion  to  choose  one  which  implies  paying 
incidental  tribute  to  an  unreasonable  steamboat  corporation.  They  may  occasionally  be  forced  to 
patronize  railroads  whose  regulations  aff  ynfairj-^bu^  waler»routes  can  almost  always  be  avoided 
without  any  great  inconvenience  or  loss  of  time.  Hence,  the  correct  caper  for  the  steamboat 
owners  evidently  is  to  outbid  the  railroads,  by  ofiEering  as  attractive  a  bait  as  possible  for  the 
capture  of  this  special  sort  of  excursion  traffic.  The  problem  for  wheelmen  simply  is  to  convince 
them  that  such  traffic  is  worth  the  Capture,— -that  bicycle  touring  is  a  substantial  fact  (incompa> 
rably  more  important  to  its  votaries  than  any  incidental  resort  to  a  given  line  of  steamboats),  and' 
that  the  ability  to  advertise  a  line  as  offering  cheap  and  comfortable  passage  to  a  good  touring 
ground  helps  to  ensure  it  substantial  patronage.  They  should  be  made  plainly  to  understand, 
furthermore,  that,  if  they  insist  on  being  blind  to  their  own  interests,  their  infliction  of  an  un- 
just transportation  tax  upon  an  individual  bicycler  will  be  resented  by  the  whole  fraternity. 
The  first  duty  of  every  tourist  who  is  thus  discriminated  against  on  any  water-route  in  this  coun- 
try is  to  proclaim  his  misfortune  as  widely  as  possible,  in  the  cycling  press,  in  order  that  others 
may  avoid  being  similarly  swindled  there.  Let  such  lines  of  boats  as  may  presume  to  infringe 
on  a  passenger's  ordinary  right  of  carrying  along  his  necessary  personal  outfit,  be  put  under  the 
ban,  so  far  as  the  just  hostility  of  cyclers  and  their  friends  may  be  able  to  accomplish  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  contrast  to  this  dutiful  utterance  of  warning,  there  exists  the  more 
pleasing  duty  of  advertising  the  names  of  those  who  proclaim  a  fair  and  honorable  policy  for 
the  attraction  of  wheelmen's  patronage ;  and  I  am  glad  to  give  prominence  to  the  result  of  sudi 
slight  and  incidental  efforts  as  I  myself  have  been  able  to  make  in  the  cause  of  "  free  ships.'* 
A  memorandum  from  the  White  Star  Line,  New  York  to  Liverpool,  says  (Mar.  31, '8s)£ 
"  Saloon  passengers  are  allowed  20  cubic  ft.  for  baggage,  and  bicycles  are  stowed  as  such  in  the 
baggage-room.  Beyond  these  limits,  our  rule  admits  a  charge  of  25  c.  per  cubic  foot ;  but  thi» 
is  interpreted  so  liberally  that,  in  practice,  a  tax  for  extra  baggage  is  seldom  levied."  The  sec- 
retary of  the  Quebec  Steamship  Co.,  A.  Ahem,  writes  to  me  thus  (Feb.  so,  '85) :  "  Bicydes, 
the  property  of  passengers,  will  be  taken  free  on  our  steamers.*'  These  ply  in  the  river  and 
gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  from  May  i  to  Nov.  20  (leaving  Montreal  and  Pictou,  N.  S.,  every  alter- 
nate Monday,  and  touching  at  Quebec  and  Charlottetown,  P.  E.  L) ;  also  all  the  year  be- 
tw^een  New  York  and  Bermuda,  and  between  New  York  and  St.  Kitts,  Antigua,  Dominica, 
Martinique,  St.  Lucia,  Barbados  and  Trinidad, — the  sailings  being  at  intervals  of  7,  10,  14  and 
17  days.  S.  Cunard  &  Co.  write  from  Halifax  (Feb.  13,  '85) :  "  We  shall  be  glad  to  treat  at 
baggage  the  bicycle  of  any  passenger  by  steamer  from  here  to  Bermuda," — ^the  sailings  being- 
monthly.  "  We  do  not  charge  freight  for  the  bicycle  owned  by  the  passenger  00  our  North 
German  Lloyd  steamers,  from  Baltimore  to  Bremen ;  neither  on  our  Allan  Line  steamers,  from 
Baltimore  to  Halifax ; "  such  are  the  words  of  the  American  agents,  A.  Schumacher  &  Co. 
(Aug.  1$,  '84);  and  the  rule  would  presumably  hold  good  of  the  Allan  steamers  from  H.  to 
Liverpool.  Mention  was  made  on  p.  292  of  the  authority  given  me(Ang.,  '83)10  announce 
that  the  Boston,  Halifax,  and  Prince  Edward  Island  line  will  carry  passengers'  wheels  free  be- 
tween those  points  (also  between  Boston  and  Savannah,  in  the  winter),  though  formerly  diarg- 
ing  8  c.  per  cubic  ft.  of  space  occupied  ;  and  that  the  same  rule  is  observed  by  tTie  other  Nova 
Scotia  line,  connecting  Boston  with  Yarmouth  and  Digby.  The  International  line,  between 
Boston,  Portland,  Eastport  and  St.  John  (p.  259),  and  the  Portbnd,  Bangor  and  Machias  line, 
whose  boats  also  run  to  Boston  (p.  279),  were  on  the  free-list  in  '83,  and  doubtless  so  contiihie. 
A  note  to  me  from  C.  D.  Whitcomb,  passenger  agent,  says  (Feb.  27,  *8s) :  "  You  may  annoonoe 
that  the  holder  of  a  first-class  ticket  can  have  his  bicycle  carried  free  on  any  of  the  steamers  of 
the  Detroit  and  Cleveland  S.  N.  Co." 

The  League's  official  free-list  includes  the  "  Anchor  Line,"  which  has  43  steamers 


thnor 

rilii 

:■  gram  free  oniage 

whci.=«>r  (he  paiKogeg 

all  ft 

ihr 

nicoi.ldteM«iyw™ 

.  for  the  general  (rM-li. 

to  the 

the  Anchor  ajul  White 

used  bjr  Ihe  League  lomm 

^•r  VcHk  aod  Fall  Riv 

cr(.7om.)  charge  fiii 

,  N- 

iw  York  and  Albiuiy( 

.4Sm-)  charge  40  c  for 

15  c< 

1  ior  IhoK  ol  I  party  0 

[lwo,.hreeoriour;  wf 

THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX.  593 

11-Allantic,  PcniDBuLa,  Medilerranean  um)  Oriental  terrice,  and  which  oendi  beau 

laiats  upoDJiifi  advance.    Probably 
[  the  efiorl  were  made,  by  exhjbiling 

itt  bicyclei.  ai  (ollowi ;  the  boats  bc- 


jr  paniea  of  6ve  or  tnore,  no  char^ 

■ame  League  ^IH  du  advertisei  that  the  day  line  of  boala  between  those  two  ciiiea  carries  bky- 
dei  free.  As  1o  the  Fall  River  Line,  it  should  be  added  that  the  %i  lai  pays  for  pasuge 
through  lo  Boston  ou  }a  m.  ol  the  Old  Colony  r.  r.  (whose  separate  charge  is  50  c  for  that  or 
iny  leu  distance,  and  1  c.  ■  mile  for  greater  distances),  and  thai  a  similar  rule  is  maintaiued  by 
Ibe  ■'pooliogsysle[n"ol  three  competing  lines  which  run  steamers  from  New  Vork,  respectively, 
to  Stonington  (nam.).  Norwich  (ijj  m.Jand  Providence  (iSo  m.),  and  trains  iheuce  to  Boston. 
The  charge  for  bicycle  between  N.  Y.  and  B.,  by  either  of  these  four  routes  u  ft ;  though  the 
League  has  relations  only  with  the  first  named.  When  the  passenger*!  ticket  relates  simply  to 
the  boat,  and  implies  no  r,  r.  ride  between  its  terminus  and  Boston,  he  is  forced  to  pay  no  mote 
than  !o  c.  for  his  wheel.  The  cost  of  uLing  it  through  by  train,  between  N.  Y.  &  B.  on  either 
the  Springbeld  or  the  Providence  route,  isli.a;:  and  ther.  r.  front  P.  la  Boston  (44  m.)  charges 
SO  c,  without  regard  10  distance.  1  believe  the  three  lines  of  boats  from  New  York  to  New 
Haien,  New  London  and  Hanfotd,  which  giTe  free  carriage  lo  my  wheel  in  'So-'Si,  have 
more  recently  enforced  a  50  c  rate, — perhaps  under  the  influence  of  the  "  pcul  *'  iust  mentioned. 
Exactions  against  iHcyclers  on  other  short  waler^routes  leading  from  New  York  have  been  re- 
ported to  me,  but  I  will  not  make  them  nutten  o(  record  here,  because  I  hope  that  the  mana- 
gers of  them  all   may   soon  be  induced  to   terminate  such  suicidal   policy,  and  adopi  the 

traffic.  The  League's  "  Koad  UDok  of  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey  and  Maryland  "  (May, 'K6, 
H.  S.  Wood)  gives  the  following  fads  about  steamers  from  Baltimore,  none  of  which  have  ever 
charged  for  bicycles  %  "  The  Ericsson  Line  leaves  tor  Phila.,  except  Sunday,  el  3  r,  H.  The 
Maryland  Steamboat  Co.,  for  Easlon,  and  Oiford,  Tuesday,  Thursday  and  Saturday,  4  p.  h. 
The  Bay  Line  to  Norfolk,  S.jop.  u.  daily,  eicepi  Sunday ;  fare,  fj .00.  The  Richmond  and 
York  River  Line,  for  Richmond,  Monday,  Wednesday,  Thursday  and  Saturday,  s  r.  m.  i  fare, 
fi.SO.  The  Eastern  Shore  S.  B.  Co.,  for  Clearlieid,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Friday,  Sunday, 
S  r.  M.  Excursion  Sleameri  daily,  in  summer,  lo  all  points  on  the  Chesapeake  and  tributaries ; 
lare,  jo  cents.  From  Philadelphia  the  Ericsson  Line  propeller  leaves  for  Baltimore  via  Canal, 
every  afternoon,  except  Sunday,  at  1  o'clock.  The  steamer  Republic  sliru  at  7  *.  h.  daily, 
from  the  Arch  si,  wharf,  for  Cape  May  and  its  hard  beaches ;  but  this  boal  charges  a  Ir^nspor- 

ibough  the  boat  from  Toronto  10  Hamilton  leiied  a  lax  against  his  Incycle. 

It  ii  no  reproach  to  the  Transportation  Committee  of  Ibe  League  thai  they  hate  thus  far  en- 
tirely neglected  the  water-routes;  for,  in  grappling  with  the  railroad  problem,  they  have  ex- 
pended all  [he  time  and  energy  which  could  be  expected  of  a  volunteer  band  working  without 
pay  for  the  general  good.    The  results  accomplished  by  this  concentration  of  effort  are  very  re- 


594         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

with  the  companies  on  a  large  scale,  because  they  coald  not  pretend  to  offer  an  equivalent  in 
patronage  for  the  concession  granted ;  but  the  League  can  make  bargains  with  the  roads  as  well 
as  any  other  one  of  their  customers,  and  each  member  of  it  should  feel  in  duty  bound  to  see  that 
his  personal  share  in  these  bargains  is  honestly  carried  out.  I  mean  that  he  should  not  only 
travel  on  the  ''  League  railroads,"  in  preference  to  rival  lines,  where  a  choice  is  offered,  but 
should  influence  his  friends  to  do  the  same. 

In  anticipation  of  the  annual  meet  at  Boston  a  "  map  of  the  L.  A.  W.  trunk  lines  *'  (as  far 
8.  and  w.  from  that  city  as  Washington,  St.  Louis  and  Chicago)  was  published  in  the  Bulletin  of 
May  7,  '86,  and  in  three  other  cycling  weeklies  of  the  same  date,  accompanied  by  the  following 
remarks  from  the  Chairman  of  the  Transportation  Committee  :  *'  These  lines  work  very  closely 
in  the  interest  of  wheelmen,  and  form  the  foundation  of  present  facilities  accorded  the  craft  in 
the  United  States.  The  main  n.  trunk  line  is  the  Michigan  Central  r.  r.,  whose  through  trains 
run  from  Chicago  to  Boston,  with  connections  in  Michigan,  Canada  and  Ohio.  From  St.  Louis 
its  through  sleepers  run  over  the  Wabash,  connecting  with  the  Michigan  Centra]  at  Detroit. 
Its  connection  from  Cincinnati  and  Ohio  points  is  the  Cin.,  Hamilton  and  Dayton  r.  r.,  also  at 
Detroit.  From  Cleveland  and  Eastern  Ohio  points  the  Lake  Shore  r.  r.  runs  throi^h  cars  con- 
necting with  the  New  York  Central  at  Buffalo.  The  Baltimore  &  Ohio,  old  and  staunch  League 
road,  from  Chicago  to  New  York,  can  take  Southern  members,  from  Washington  northward. 
There  is  no  League  trunk  road  in  New  England  save  the  Fitchburg.  Wheelmen  bound  for 
Boston  from  the  n.  and  w.  parts  of  New  York  should  take  the  West  Shore  road,  which  Is  the 
only  line  running  through  cars'  over  the  Fitchburg.  The  Boston  connection  of  the  New  York 
Central  from  Albany  east,  is  a  road  that  practically  prohibits  wheel  travel  over  its  line  during 
the  year,  but  makes  concessions  to  our  parties  when  traveling  in  numbers.  The  Fitchburg  is 
its  competitor  and  accommodates  wheelmen  all  the  year  round,  when  traveling  alone  as  well  as 
in  parties.  From  Eastern  Pennsylvania  and  Southern  New  Vork,  the  Erie  and  the  Lehigh 
Yalley  roads  afford  every  accommodation.  From  Portland  down,  the  Eastern  r.  r.  has  worked 
closer  with  us  than  any  other.  The  map  gives  a  perfect  general  index  of  L.  A.  W.  trunk  lines 
and  the  regular  printed  list  will  show  all  others.  Arrangements  for  transportation  can  be  made 
very  conveniently  by  G.  R.  Bidwell,  New  York,  he  being  in  correspondence  with  all  lines  run- 
ning from  N.  Y.  ^nd  Phila.  to  the  East ;  W.  S.  Bull,  Buffalo,  can  arrange  matters  with  lines 
running  from  Buffalo  and  Canada  to  the  East ;  while  F.  T.  Sholes,  Cleveland ;  H.  S.  Livings- 
ton, Cincinnati ;  W.  M.  Brewster,  St.  Louis,  and  B.  B.  Ayers,  Chicago,  place  their  services  at 
the  disposal  of  the  craft  journeying  from  their  respective  sections  of  country.*' 

The  quotation  gives  an  idea  of  the  business-like  way  in  which  the  matter  has  been  system- 
atized, and  also  the  general  policy  which  has  been  pursued  of  making  favorable  terms  with 
certain  through  lines,  and  trusting  to  their  example  and  a  sort  of  "  law  of  gravitation  "  for  forc- 
ing the  local  roads  affiliated  with  them  to  adopt  the  same  liberal  practices.  The  names  of  the 
railroads  which  have  agreed  with  the  League  to  carry  passengers'  bicycles  free  are  advertised 
by  the  Bulietin  in  two  geographical  groups,  the  first  comprising  those  "  east  of  Buffalo  and 
Pittsburg,'*  as  follows  :  Alleghany  Valley ;  Atlanta  &  West  Point ;  Baltimore  &  Ohio ;  Ben- 
nington &  Rutland;  Boston,  Hoosac  Tunnel  &  Western;  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  &  Phila.;  Cana- 
dian Pacific;  Chesapeake  &  Ohio ;  Credit  Valley ;  Delaware,  Lackawanna  &  Western ;  Elmira, 
Cortland  &  Northern;  Erie  (N.  Y.,  L.  E.  &  W.);  Fall  Brook;  Fitchburg;  Grand  Trunk; 
Lehigh  Valley;  Montrose ;  New  London  Northern  ;  N.  Y.,  Buffalo  &  Pittsburg;  N.  Y.,  Lake 
Erie  &  Western;  N.  Y.,  West  Shore  &  Buffalo;  Portland  &  Ogdensburg;  Portland  &  Wor- 
cester ;  Rochester  &  Pittsburg ;  Rome,  Watertown  &  Ogdensburg ;  Southern  Central  of  N.  Y. ; 
Syracuse,  Ontario  &  N.  Y. ;  Tioga;  Troy  &  Boston ;  Utica  &  Black  River;  Wallkill  Valley; 
West  Shore  (N.  Y.,  W.  S.  &  B.);  Western  Alabama;  Western  Maryland. 

The  much  larger  group  "west  of  Buffalo  and  Pittsburg  "  is  alphabetized  thus  :  Alliance, 
Niles  &  Ashtabula ;  Ashtabula  &  Pittsburg ;  Atchison,  Topeka  &  Santa  F^ ;  Atlantic  &  Pacific; 
Baltimore  &  Ohio;  Burlington,  Cedar  Rapids  &  Northern;  Canada  Southern;  Canadian 
Pacific ;  Central  Pacific ;  Central  Iowa ;  Chartiers ;  Chicago  &  Atlantic ;  Ch.  &  Eastern  Illi- 
nois; Ch.  &  Grand  Trunk ;  Ch.  &  Iowa  ;  Ch.  &  Western  Michigan ;  Ch.,  Alton  &  St.  Louis; 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX. 


S9S 


Ch.,  Borlinglon  JlQuincy;  Ch. ,  loxa  A  Dakota |  Ch.,Mi1w3iik«&  St.  Paul;  Ch.,  St.  LmiiB 
ftPilubuis;  Clicsapeaki!  S  Otiia;  Cincinnali  &  MiukiDgum  Villcy;  Cin.,  HamHlsn  &  Daj^ 
ton  ;  Cin.,  Indianapolis,  St.  Louig  &  Chicago;  CIn.,  Kcw  Orleans  &  Teiu;  ClenbiKl  & 
Canlon;  a,  &  MaricKa;  a.  &  IHltiburj;  G..  Akron  &  Canton;  CI,  Columbia,  Cincinnati 
S  Indianapotis;  O.,  Urain  A  Wheeling;  Q.,  Tuscaiawu  Valk^  &  Whnling;  Coluinbui, 
Mocking  Valley  &  Toledo ;  Del  Minne*  S  Fl.  Dodge ;  Dclroil,  Lan»ng  &  Nonlieni ;  Erie  & 
PitUburg;  EvaiuvIOe  STerre  Haute-,  Flint  &  Pire  Mamueltt;  Ft,  Wayne,  CiDcinnaii  fi 
Louiivillei  Giand  Rapidi  &  Indiana  i  Grand  Trank;  lllicoii  Central  i  Indianipolig  ft  Si. 
Louii;  Iiid.&  Vincennei;  Ind.,  Blooniiogtoo&  Weileni:  Inlemationil  &  Great  Northern ; 
Jeffenanville,  MadiioD  &  Indianapolis ;  Kansas  Ci<T,  Si,  Joseph  &  Council  BluOi ;  Kenluckf 
CeDlral'.LakeShore&MichiganSouthem;  UtOeMlami;  LouinHlle  &  Naihiilte;  Louisville, 
New  Albany  &  Chicago;  Michigan  S  Ohio;  Michigao  Central;  Mnmukee  ft  Nonhem; 
Minneapolis  &  St.  Lonii;  MiiuuH.  Kansai  ft  Texas',  Missouri  Pacific;  N.  Y.,  Peon.  A  O. ; 
NewponNemft  MiuinipiH  Valley ;  Nickel  Plate  [N.  V..  Chicago  ft  SI,  L.);  Northwestern 
Ohio;  Northern  ft  Nonhmslemol  Canada;  Ohio  «  MiiB»ipi»;  Ohio  Central;  Pennsyl- 
vania; Pittsburg  ft  Lake  Erie;  Piila.,  Dnginnaii  S  Si.  Louii;  Piltj,,  Ft.  Wayne  ft  Chlago ; 
Port  Huron  ft  NorthweEicTn ;  St.  Louis  ft  Cairo  (St.  L.,A.&T.  H.);St.  L.ft  San  Francivo; 
Si- L-iDesMoinea&Norlhem;  Southern  Pacific;  Texas  Pacific;  Toledo,  Ann  Arter  ft  Grand 
Trunk;  Vandalia;  Valley(0.);  Wabash,  St.  Louis  ft  Pacific;  Wheeling  ft  Lake  Erie;  Wi» 
cnuirin  Ceninil ;  Wi»^sin,  looa  ft  Nebraska.    <At  corrected  hy  (he  commhUe  June  lo,  'S6.) 


••The  agreement  ii  (hat  Ihe  b 

icydogoesato 

wner's  ris 

for  loss  or  damage.    Some  n>ad. 

rw) 

ire  it  to  be  checked.  like  bagg 

™.heow 

ner  should  apply  lo  the  depo<  bag- 

gag 

■master,  before  getting  on  can 

and  hare  him 

mark  ih 

sho 

uld  be  wiih  him  as  much  as  possible  and  not  • 

rilh  the  ir 

in  baggageman.     In  case  charge. 

riio 

Id  be  e,acledbr  baggagemen 

and  forwarded  lo  the  chairman  of 

It  of  the  latter  proccM  has  always 

oft 

e  offending  bi5gagenHn,  or. 

is  dlsmi« 

till  furthe 

with  the  name  of  each  road  on  the 

al  list  the 

eitact  date  of  its  circular  ordering 

bicycles  be  cauied  as  baggage 

and  perhaps  al 

lo  the  nam 

A  passenger'l  ability  lo  point  lo  III 

cheiactevidenc 

would  probably  conyert  even  the  moat  igno- 

orobtlin«eofbagKagen.(t,; 

orilwould«eir 

onlyaeco, 

d  in  authority  to  the  oKcial  circu- 

lar 

the  Erie,  for 

dam  able  to  By  to  him:    •■Se. 

her. 

ni,  J,  N,  Abboi 

1,  gaye  or 

ers.  Nov.  rB,  "m,  that  Ihiilucfele 

•ho 

Id  be  carried  in  your  car,  free 

1  charge,  and  i 

city  cleat  idea  that  I  know  wh> 

11  am  talking 

wui,  and 

nowhowtohaveliimpunbhedil 

he 

n».»  on  swindling  me.     My  n 

ere  showing  o 

the  name 

•'  Erie,"  in  the  League's  printed 

ffecl  upon 

"  The  owner  of  bicycle  to  be  tran 

ported  should  bi 

o  deliver  it  ii  the  baggj^-ear  of 

nd  there  promptly  upon  a 

proi 

Krty.     I[hede«re.wha«  i 

taken  beyond 

ur  tine.  o. 

beyond  the  run  ol  (be  baggage. 

'  souls  by  the  utterance  of  vii 
or  resent  it.    I  have  generall 

Le(  the  bicycle  be  heW  pi 


596  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  car  gives  the  signal  that  he  is  ready  to  take  this  also.  Perhaps  he  may  then  invite  the  owner 
inside  to  attend  to  the  machine  until  the  big  trunks  have  been  packed,  and  a  place  made  where 
it  may  be  stowed  seci&rely.  It  is  a  good  plan  to  carry  along  some  pieces  of  cord  and  a  few  pict- 
ure-frame screws,  by  the  use  of  which  the  wheel  may  be  readily  fastened  to  the  side  of  the  car, 
in  case  the  emptiness  of  this  suggests  insecurity  and  rolling.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  car  is 
known  to  be  crowded,  the  pedals  and  handle-bar  should  be  closely  packed ;  and  this  may  be 
wisely  done  in  anticipation  of  any  long  journey,  unless,  in  such  case,  the  tourist  prefers,  as  I  do, 
to  send  the  bicycle  in  advance  by  ^fast-freight  line.  Where  a  car  is  so  full  of  baggage  that  the 
presence  of  the  bicycle  causes  evident  trouble,  I  think  it  fair  and  proper  to  placate  the  baggage- 
man with  a  personal  fee  of  25  c.  for  looking  after  its  safety ;  and  whenever  accident  or  damage 
results,  I  think  the  tourist  ought  to  accept  it  placidly  rather  than  render  the  whole  fraternity 
odious  in  the  eyes  of  the  railroad  managers  by  "  making  a  row  about  it.'*  Hie  League  could 
a£Eord  to  say  to  every  such  unfortunate  one  who  feels  unable  to  pocket  the  loss  :  "  We  will  pay 
you  the  full  amount  of  it,  if  only  you  will  keep  quiet,  and  not  nag  the  railroad  officers  back  into 
their  first  belief  that  a  bicycle  is  too  fragile  and  troublesome  a  thing  for  handling  in  their  bag- 
gage-cars." The  will  of  the  men  in  immediate  control  of  these  should  always  be  recognized  as 
supreme,  in  regard  to  all  details  of  handling  and  packing;  and  differences  of  opinion  should  be 
arranged  by  the  adoption  of  a  persuasive  and  deferential  air,  rather  than  by  a  show  of  imperious- 
ness  and  truculence.  Whoever  thus  affronts  the  proper  pride  of  these  men,  by  any  such  wanton 
display  of  hostility,  or  is  tempted  by  arrogance  or  bad  lang^uage  on  their  part  into  making  an  un- 
dignified retort,  not  only  lowers  his  own  self-respect,  and  lessens  his  influence  with  them,  but 
he  inflicts  a  definite  injury  upon  all  well-mannered  cyclers  who  may  chance  to  follow  in  his  foot- 
steps. In  the  baggage-car,  as  upon  the  highway,  the  wheelman,  while  insisting  upon  his  recog- 
nized rights  with  firmness,  should  also  do  it  with  calmness  and  courtesy, — ^both  for  his  personal 
profit  and  satisfaction,  and  for  "  the  good  of  the  cause  "  in  general.  Whenever  the  horse- 
driving  Hog  publicly  froths  at  the  mouth  in  the  presence  of  a  bicycler,  the  latter  can  perform  no 
better  service  as  an  educator  of  opinion,  than  to  let  him  enjoy  a  monopoly  of  all  the  cursing  and 
vituperation.  Silence  fs  the  one  thing  which  surely  convicts  the  Hog  of  having  encountered  a 
superior  order  of  intellect.  In  his  heart  he  knows  that  all  who  witnessed  his  outburst,  and  its 
inability  to  provoke  a  retort,  are  secretly  laughing  at  him  for  the  discomfiture  which  is  produced 
by  this  bitterest  form  of  contempt. 

In  addition  to  the  railroads  which  have  issued  general  orders  for  free  carriage,  the  League 
advertises  two  trunk  lines  ("  Chicago  &  Northwestern  "  and  "  Chicago,  Rock  Island  &  Pacific  ") 
which  grant  such  concession  only  by  special  permits,  to  be  had  by  calling  upon  or  addressing 
their  general  baggage  agents  at  the  first-named  city.  The  Lake  Erie  and  Western  r.  r.  (San- 
dusky to  Bloomington,  378  m.)  charges  a  passenger's  bicycle  at  the  same  rate  as  if  it  were  "  roo 
lbs.  of  excess  baggage  " ;  while  the  arrangement  with  the  Del.  &  Hudson  Canal  Co.  is  reported 
as  "  pending.**  Three  other  important  lines  advertise  a  tariff  of  \  c.  per  m. ,— except  that  the  min- 
imum chaiige  is  25  c.  (or  as  much  for  x  m.  as  for  50  m.):  Pennsylvania  (e.  of  Pittsburg),  Phila.  & 
Reading,  and  N.  Y.  Central  &  Hudson  River.  I  consider  this  rate  of  ^  c  per  m.  a  reasonable 
one,  but  think  that  for  a  distance  of  10  or  15  m.  the  charge  should  be  no  more  than  10  c  For 
such  short  distances,  indeed,  I  believe  the  r.  r.'s  would  find  it  profitable  to  make  no  chaige  at 
all,  even  while  retaining  their  present  rule  as  to  long  distances.  A  touring  bicycler  who  would 
willingly  pay  his  fare  on  a  local  train,  for  the  sake  of  getting  past  a  few  miles  of  sand  or  mod, 
will  determine  to  push  through  it  rather  than  submit  to  a  tax  of  25  c.  on  his  wheel's  acconnL 
I  remember  of  acting  thus  several  times  (once  even  after  buying  my  train-ticket),  and  on  one 
occasion  I  deliberately  tramped  8  m.  through  the  dark,  in  preference  to  letting  a  r.  r.  wrest  50  c 
from  me  for  carrying  my  bicycle  that  distance.  I  believe  the  amount  of  such  possible  fares  lost 
considerably  exceeds  the  amount  of  such  unjust  taxes  collected, — to  say  nothing  of  the  loss  of 
good-will.  Bicyclers  who  might  be  persuaded  to  take  tours  along  the  line  of  certain  r.  r.»» 
(where  good  and  bad  wheehng  are  both  found)  if  brief  resorts  could  be  freely  had  to  the  trains, 
will  simply  make  their  excursions  elsewhere,  in  the  face  of  threatened  exactions.  The  Eastern 
r.  r.  (Boston  to  Portland,  108  m.),  and  Maine  Central  r.  r.  (Portland  to  Vanceboro,  250  m.),  irith 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX.  597 

irarfoni  bnnchei,  taji  the  bicycle  15  c  For  Hoy  distance  ap  to  50  in.»  aiKl  ^  c^  for  any  greater 
«>UDce.  TTh  "  N,  v.,  N.  H,  &  H."  (New  Ymk  lo  Springfield,  136  m.,  and  New  Yott  to 
New  London,  114  tn.,  with  Reveral  leued  liiieB)puu  tiie  tax  at  ;o  c.  for  any  distanix  up  to 
50  iVr,  !ind  75  c  for  any  greater  diiilance ;  while  the  BottoD  ft  Albany  r  r.  [loi  in.),  starting 
with  a  limnar  miniinuia  charge  ol  so  c.,  outranlu  all  others  by  adhering  sliffly  to  the  enreme 
lariS  of  I  c.  per  m. ,  eren  for  a  bicycle  which  is  carried  the  whole  length  of  in  line.  As  the 
highways  alongside  this  are  id  many  places  atlnctive  id  the  tourist  and  in  many  piacei  unridahle, 
the  road  ntighc  make  considerable  money,  on  the  theory  just  now  explained,  by  offering  good 
treaHneot  to  cyclera.  Instead  of  this,  n  prefers  lo  lose  conuderabJe  money  by  driving  them  10 
lake  HCaisions  in  other  regiona,  and  by  letting  the  rival  Fitchburg  line  get  hold  of  all  the  through 
IiaSc  and  "  good-will."  The  sight  of  the  Fitchbuig  upon  the  League's  fneJist  wfll  doubtless 
looD  lead  other  New  England  roads  In  place  their  names  there.  I  believe  that  most  of 
them  DO*  levy  a  is  c.  tax ;  though  the  Old  Colony  and  Providence  roads  have  alread;?  been 

as  one  road  to  offer  a  single  through  rate  of  50  c,  as  an  option  10  paying  )  c.  per  m.  beyond 
JO  m. ,  or  IS  c.  for  less  than  jom.  on  rilher  road.  The  Boston  &  Ljnin  r.  r.  (9I  m.)  carries 
wheels  free.  No  reasonable  man  who  his  occasion  to  use  a  baggage<ar  for  15  m.  or  more  can 
object  to  paying  35  c.  for  it  \  hot  the  same  charge  for  only  j  or  j  m.  is  veiaLious.    My  own 

then  IS  c.  np  to  so  m.  and  beyond  that  50  c.  (or  else  }  c  per  m.),  they  would  satisfy  every  de- 
tsand  of  justice.  Whenever  they  offer  free  carriage  for  long  distances,  the  fact  should  always 
be  recogniied  as  in  the  nature  of  a  reduction  of  r^tes,  tendered  in  the  hope  of  attracting  spe- 
cial good-win  and  patronage.  On  lite  other  hand,  free  carriage  by  steamers,  for  all  distances, 
should  be  demanded  not  %a  a  favor  but  as  a  right,  and  a  denial  of  it  should  be  resented  to  the 
tilinost.  In  this  matter  individual  effort  may  make  itself  felt ;  and  every  wheelman  who  hap- 
pens to  patronise  a  water-route  not  already  on  the  free-list  should  assume  the  duty  of  persuading 
its  managers  to  formally  request  (he  League's  Transportation  Committee  to  place  it  there. 

I  believe  that  in  no  case  has  the  extreme  policy  of  refusing  to  lake  a  passenger's  Ihcycle  in 

tamed  to,  when  once  the  League  had  caused  Its  abandonmenl.  It  is  more  li'kely  that  the  roada 
which  are  now  classed  as  maintaining  a  tariff  will  modify  this  hi  favor  of  free  carriage  (for  short 
distances,  or  without  regard  to  distance]  than  thai  any  of  the  "  free  roads  "  will  go  back  to  1 

hi  the  "VtM  to  which  a  r.  r.  traveler  may  not  carry  his  bicycle  without  tax  i  but  a  majority  of  the 
local  lines  hi  the  East  yet  temam  to  be  won.  Barkman's  road-book  (Apr.,  '86)  says  "  The 
Long  Island  r.  r.  charges  from  400.  to  80  c.,  acconling  to  distance,  for  carrying  a  tncycle"; 
though,  a  year  earlier,  announcement  was  made  (TVi^iH,  Apr.  a6.,  'fis)  that  "  Incydes  am  now 
^^ed  free  by  the  L.  I.  r,  r.,  when  delivered  to  and  taken  from  the  cars  by  passengers," — and 

that  n»d  without  any  charge  for  wheel.    In  '84,  W.  C. 

rough  from  N.  y.  to  Atlanta,  without  charge;  and  again' 

(j4oin.,>eep.)So).  In  May. '86,  W.  J.  Farrell  brought  his  bicycle  from  Femandina,  Fla., 
to  N.  Y.,  whhoul  any  other  trouble  than  that  implied  in  transferring  it  from  one  baggage-car  to 

T.  r. 'tin  the  South  could  be  depended  on  to  grant  this  privilege,  though  they  might  not  think  it 
worth  triiile  to  make  a  formal  arrangement  with  the  League,  beause  of  the  rarity  of  bicycle 


6oo  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

maaaien  ol  the  railway  ajMem  of  Italy  lo  carry  cyclu  ai  pcnou]  baggage  (a  later  report  uya 
"  £ree  "), — rcvening  thui  the  prohibilory  policy  prodaimed  in  a  Septenibcr  order  that  the  roadi 
wou]<l  nol  transport  cydcs  at  all  cxnpt  in  freighl  (raioa.  This  nfona  was  apjureolly  effected 
by  the  icSuence  of  llie  C.  T.  C.  wfaile  the  N.  C.  U.  hu  the  credit  of  a  liioilar  cue,  in  pemud- 
IDE  <be  lialisn  GovemmeDl  (June,  'Sj)  10  allow  louriiti  10  crou  its  frontier  by  train  wilhout  pay. 
iog  duty  fur  their  cycles.  Previously  the  practice  had  been  to  collect  about  f6,  with  the  prouae 
oi  retumiDg  tt  lo  the  amer  in  case  he  look  the  trouble  to  come  bncb  to  the  uune  r.  r.  station  again 
on  leaving  Italy.    Tourisu  acluaily  driving  their  nrheeli  across  the  frontier  tiad  not  been  botb- 

the  machines  were  beins  run  in,  as  merchandise,  lor  defrauding  the  revenue."    The  reform  of 

was  effected  by  an  ofBcial  correspondence  of  two  months,  which  included  the  imting  of  only  fom 
letter*  by  the  secretary  of  the  N.  C.  U.  These  were  printed  in  TrL  Jaamal  (July  "S,  "Bs, 
p.  ]i),  together  with  a  Iratiiialian  of  the  order  of  the  Mininer  of  Finance  "that  cycles  be 
passed  without  guarantee,  provided  Ihey  have  been  used,  and  provided  the  officers  are  con- 
vinced they  are  not  to  be  left  in  Italy  for  spcculalion."  The  "  C.  T.  C.  Handbook  "  of  Apr., 
'06,  nevertheless  says  (probably  through  ioadvertence  in  retaining  the  formula  of  its  'H5  edition): 
"  Tourists  entering  Italy  by  nil  may  be  called  upon  lo  pay  the  impost,  which  is  returnable  U 
they  gel  the  necessary  dncumenls  at  the  lime  of  makmg  Ihe  deposit " ;  and  it  alhides  not  at  all 
to  the  reformed  policy  of  the  Italian  railways.  Recent  interesting  experiences  of  Rev.  S,  G. 
Bamei  were  detailed  in  two  columns  of  SnrtalitH  Uuly  14,  '06,  p.  ;]  1  see  p.  31}  aiUi),  show- 
ing that,  when  he  landed  at  Naples,  he  was  forced,  in  spite  of  all  protests  that  the  eaislmg  law 
allowed  his  tricycle  free  entry,  la  make  1  dep^il,  "  under  the  eiplicil  and  repeated  assurance 
that  it  would  be  refunded  10  him  at  any  cuUom-houie  through  which  he  might  pass  oat  of 
Italy."  He  produced  Ihe  receipt  forauch  deposh,  a  few  weeks  later,  at  Ihe  frootier  town  of 
Ventimiglia,  but  Ihe  fundionary  there  in  charge  resolutely  refused  to  refund  the  money,  or  to 
supply  any  written  pn»f  of  such  refusal,  or  of  the  passage  of  such  tricycle  through  his  cusiorn- 

another  duly,  before  the  tricycle  could  he  rettuned  to  the  train.    *'  They  ignored  the  protesi  that 

and  I  then  learned  that  there  was  a  special  treaty  between  England  and  France,  tor  the  Im 

France  and  Italy.    1  sent  my  papers  lo  the  Naplea  custofi 
because  there  was  no  vat  by  Ventimiglia,  Ihou^  1 
and  could  prove  my  departure  from  Italy  by  my  en 
the  hands  of  the  C.  T.  C,  and  Mr.  Stead,  the  chief  of  It: 

standard  for  velocipedes  (in  On/lug;  Nov.,  'S4.  p. 
vesler  Bailer,  a  Boston  tourist,  who  paid  (14.^,  I 
strip  off  the  heavy  packing-case  from  his  bicycle  I 


the  Collector  of  the  pan  of  Boite 
plea  (bat  hia  having  ridden  it  onl 
■broad  "  as  was  conlemphled  b] 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX.  599 

Dover  to  Ostend  ;  on  Daxiish  steamers  from  Newcastle  and  Hull  to  Beigeo,  and  from  Harwich 
to  Esbjerg ;  on  the  United  line  from  Newcastle  to  Copenhagen ;  and  on  the  river  boats  (run 
only  in  summer)  from  London  to  Margate,  Ramsgate  and  Yarmouth." 

The  General  S.  N.  Co.  charges  for  a  London  passenger*s  bicycle  to  Hull,  Havre,  Boulogne, 
Ostend,  or  Antwerp,  62  c. ;  to  Edinburgh,  $1.25;  to  Bordeaux  or  Hambuxg,  $1.87,  and  to 
Oporto,  ^3,  with  advanced  rates  for  tricycles,  according  to  size.  The  London  &  Edinbuigh  S.  N. 
Co.  chaiges  ^2.25  for  bicycle ;  and  the  London  &  Aberdeen  S.  N.  Co.  $1.25  for  bi.  and  $1.87 
for  tfi., — whether  packed  and  despatched  as  parcels  or  taken  along  as  luggage.  The  London 
and  Channel  S.  S.  Co.  takes  a  passenger's  bi.  to  Gravesend  or  Southsea  for  25  c ,  and  to  Ips- 
wich, Harwich,  Walton  and  Clacton  for  62  c.  From  Harwich  to  Rotterdam  or  Antwerp  the 
chaige  is  75  c.  for  bi.  and  #1.87  for  tri.,  as  compared  to  the  $1.25  and  $2.50  exacted  up  to  '84. 
After  tabulating  the  rates  charged  by  the  various  railway  steamers  from  Southampton  and  other 
seaFCoast  towns  to  various  ports  in  France,  the  "  Handbook  "  says  :  "As  the  chaiges  from  Dover 
to  Calais  and  from  Folkestone  to  Boulogne  are  so  exorbitant,  and  as  duty  is  levied  at  both  C. 
and  B.,  these  routes  should  be  avoided.  The  French  duty  appears  to  be  about  $5  for  bi.  and  $10 
for  tri.  Dieppe  and  Cherbourg  appear  to  be  the  only  two  ports  where  cycles  accompanied  by 
the  rider  enter  duty  free.  Tourists  entering  by  road  sometimes  pay,  as  at  the  '  douane  '  near 
Rezonville,  coming  from  Metz  to  Verdun  ;  but  riders  have  entered  by  road  from  B&le  to  Belfort, 
and  also  at  Delle,  Mrithout  being  mulct  in  any  charge.  The  French  railroads  usually  carry  pas- 
sengers' cycles  as  luggage,  for  a  very  small  chaige.  Cycles  entering  Switzerland  by  rail  are 
liable  to  a  duty  of  10  per  cent,  ad  valorem  (returnable  on  leaving  the  country) ;  but  tourists  en- 
tering by  road  are  not  usually  called  upon  to  pay  anything.  A  tricycle  in  a  crate  (up  to  1 12  lbs.) 
may  be  sent  by  '  petite  vitesse  '  from  London  to  B&le  (10  days  on  the  road),  for  $2.37,  on  appli- 
cation to  Wheatley  &  Co.,  33  Regent  st.,  whose  agent  at  B.  (where  local  chaiges  of  62  c.  must  be 
added)  will  store  cycles  for  10  c  a  month.  Tourists  entering  Germany  with  cycles  are  in  some 
places  required  to  pay  duty  (returnable)." 

In  Sept.,  '83,  the  Belgian  customs  officers  at  Antwerp  prohibited  the  landing  of  three 
London  tourists'  bicycles  until  a  duty  of  $2  each  had  been  paid.  The  owners  were  E.  Teget- 
meier,  W.  E.  Milner,  and  R.  P.  Hampton  Roberts  (subscribers  to  this  book,  whose  wheeling 
records  may  be  found  on  pp.  531-543) ;  and,  as  they  afterwards  noticed  that  another  Englishman, 
G.  D.  Ingall,  who  had  been  similarly  treated  in  Holland,  had  secured  redress  by  appealing  to 
the  Minister  of  Finance,  they  thought  it  worth  while  to  write  to  the  C.  T.  C.  consul  at  Ant- 
werp (Alban  Thorburn,  now  at  Uddevalla,  Sweden),  to  see  what  could  be  done.  He  put  the 
case  so  effectively  before  the  Minist^  des  Finances  de  Belgique,  that  that  functionary  not  only 
returned  the  $6  but  on  Feb.  6  issued  the  following  Decree  No.  8179  {Cyclist,  Mar.  26,  '84,  p. 
351) :  "  In  future  the  agents  of  customs  may  admit  freely,  and  without  any  formalities,  veloci- 
pedes of  tourists  who  can  prove — ^by  means  of  a  railway  circular  return  ticket,  for  instance — that 
they  only  pass  the  territory  of  Belgium,  when  there  can  be  no  suspicion  of  fraud."  In  Holland, 
too,  a  similar  rule  was  put  in  force,  as  a  result  of  the  Ingall  protest.  Nevertheless,  a  complaint 
of  "vexatious  imposts  "  was  made  in  the  C.  T.  C.  Gazettt  of  Feb.,  '86  (by  "  14 19,  14  S.  W. 
£.  D.,"  p.  54),  because,  "  some  time  ago,"  he  had  to  pay  $2  to  the  customs  officer  at  Ant- 
werp, who  at  first  demanded  I20,  for  duty  on  a  tricycle.  The  same  magazine  for  May  (p.  185) 
has  a  letter  from  G.  H.  Rutter,  saying  :  "  I  have  found  that  some  of  the  French  ports  are  more 
particular  than  others ;  for  instance,  Havre  seems  to  have  the  pre-eminence  in  charging.  After 
consultation  with  the  C.  C.  for  France,  I  have  decided  to  leave  matters  as  they  are,  in  preference 
to  stirring  up  the  authorities,  and  thereby  making  it  likely  that  the  laws  will  be  rigidly  enforced 
at  all  ports  in  future.'*  With  this  may  be  compared  Thomas  Stevens's  report  of  considerable 
trouble  had  in  persuading  the  customs  people  to  "  pass  "  him  at  Dieppe,  in  '85  {Quting,  Oct.,  p. 
43) ;  also  the  letter  writtr  ^e  Campion  Wheelman,  by  A.  C.  Beasley.     "  You  will 

not  be  required  to  p  hine  at  the  French  frontier,  and  the  French  railways 

IjA  carry  it  as  luj  -er  is  allowed  30  kilos,  (about  60  lbs.).    They  seldom 

machine,  ^arge  you  the  nominal  sum  of  one  penny  for  regis- 

|7tually  yo  rm  exonerating  the  company  from  any  damage 


59^  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

simply  that  it  may  be  denounced.  Even  were  it  practicable,  the  dignity  of  the  Leagiie  would 
not  permit  a  resort  to  such  a  petty  policy  for  recruiting  its  membership ;  and  it  would  be  an  un- 
wise and  disastrous  confession  of  weakness  besides.  The  League's  power  to  treat  with  the  rail- 
road people  arises  from  their  belief  that  it  not  only  commands  the  patronage  of  its  8000  members, 
but  indirectly  controls  that  of  the  other  wheelmen  (say  4OyO0o)  who  are  not  members.  It  is  for 
the  evident  interest  of  the  League  to  strengthen  this  belief,  and  magnify  its  own  ability  for 
swinging  in  a  given  direction  the  entire  wheel  interest  of  the  continent.  The  greater  the  num- 
ber of  bicyclers  who  patronize  a  given  "  Leagiie  road,"  the  greater  the  respect  which  its  managers 
will  have  for  the  League's  apparent  power  to  mfluence  traffic.  A  policy  of  exclusion  and  self- 
belittlement  would  show  that  the  organization  had  no  practical  capacity  for  "  business." 

"The  C.  W.  A.  Guide  Book'*  (Apr.,  '84;  see  p.  330)  devotes  three  pages  to  printing  in 
full  the  replies  received  to  the  circular  letter  of  Feb.  ai,  '84,  addressed  by  the  secretary  of  the 
Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association  to  the  general  managers  of  all  the  r.  r.  lines  in  the  Dominion, 
asking  that  passengers'  bicycles  be  allowed  free  carriage.  The  affirmative  responses,  in  behalf 
of  seven  roads,  are  signed  and  dated  as  follows :  Michigan  Central  (O.  W.  Ruggles,  Chicago, 
Feb.  26) ;  Grand  Trunk  (J.  Stevenson,  Montreal,  Feb.  27) ;  Ontario  &  Quebec  (D.  McNicoU, 
Toronto,  Feb.  28);  Midland  (A.  White,  Peterboro',  Feb.  29);  Canadian  Pacific  (G.  W.  Hib- 
bard,  Montreal,  Mar.  i);  Intercolonial  (A.  Busby,  Moncton,  Mar.  4);  Northern  &  Northwest- 
em  (R.  Kerr,  Toronto,  Mar.  8).  These  seven  are  said  to  "  include  nearly  all  the  railroads  of 
Canada  " ;  and  any  wheelman  against  whom  exactions  are  attempted  by  baggagemen  should 
send  exact  details  of  the  same  (with  receipts  for  any  money  actually  paid)  to  the  aforesaid  secre- 
tary, H.  B.  Donly,  Simcoe,  Ont.  The  r.  r.'s  of  Prince  Edward  Island  and  Nova  Scotia,  which 
I  briefly  resorted  to  in  Sept,  '83  (p.  291-2),  made  no  charge  for  the  bicycle, — though,  in  the  case 
of  oue  rather  crowded  baggage<ar,  I  was  told  that  I  "  must  get  in  and  attend  to  it  myself." 

In  England  (where  liberal  ideas  of  traffic  management,  such  as  prevail  in  this  free  country, 
are  seldom  put  in  practice),  the  r.  r.  charge  for  a  bicycle  "  when  accompanied  by  passenger  and 
at  owner's  risk  "  was  formerly  25  c.  for  any  distance  up  to  50  m.,  37  c.  to  75  m.,  50  c  to  100  m., 
62  c.  to  150  m.,  and  so  on,  increasing  x^  c.  for  each  additional  50  m.  or  fraction  thereof.  The 
fifth  edition  of  the  "B.  T.  C.  Handbook"  (Apr.,  '82),  from  which  I  extract  the  figures,  said: 
"  These  new  rates  show  a  material  reduction,— 'in  response  to  the  memorial  and  through  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Council  of  the  B.  T.  C.  They  are  in  force  on  every  line  in  the  kingdom,  with  the 
exception  of  the  London,  Brighton  &  South  Coast,  the  South  Eastern,  and  the  London,  Chat- 
ham &  Dover  railways,  which  corporations  are  earning  an  unenviable  notoriety  by  their  obdurate 
resistance  to  what  we  hoped  was  a  universal  concession."  During  the  four  years  which  have 
elapsed  since  those  words  were  written,  tricycling  has  come  into  general  vogue,  and  the  latest 
edition  of  the  "  C.  T.  C  Handbook  "  (Apr.,  '86)  devotes  pp.  30-34  to  the  transportation  question. 
It  gives  a  tabulated  statement  of  the  charges  made  on  each  of  the  22  railways  in  England,  Soot> 
land  and  Ireland  for  distances  of  12,  25,  50,  75,  loo,  150,  200  and  250  m., — the  rate  for  a  tricycle 
being  usually  double  that  for  a  bicycle.  The  lowest  for  the  latter  is  asc,  which  is  not  increased 
until  the  50  m.  limit  is  passed ;  while  a  tricycle  is  charged  at  least  25  c  for  12  m.,  37  c.  up  to  25 
m.  and  50  c.  up  to  50  m.  These  rates  are  for  "  luggage  at  the  owner's  risk,"  but  when  classed 
as  "  parcels  at  the  owner's  risk  "  (£  «.,  as  we  Americaps  say,  "  sent  by  express  ")  the  rates  are 
increased  about  25  per  cent,  for  bicycles  and  50  per  cent,  for  tricycles;  and  still  another  25  or 
50  per  cent,  is  added  in  case  of  classification  as  "  parcels  at  the  company's  risk."  The  three 
roads  named  as  "  obdurate  "  in '82  still  retain  their  bad  eminence, — their  charge  for  carrying 
a  tri.  200  m.  being  $3,  and  $1.50  for  a  bi. ;  and  these  rates  are  doubled  for  "parcels  at 
owner's  risk,"  and  all  machines  so  sent  must  be  packed,  and  no  admittance  to  the  cloak- 
rooms is  granted  them  at  any  price.  The  charge  of  the  other  roads  is  only  half  as  great,  in  these 
several  cases,  and  the  rule  about  packing  is  enforced  by  only  two.  The  cloak-room  charge  for 
storing  machines  at  the  various  r.  r.  stations  varies  from  4  c  to  12  c.  for  a  period  not  exoeedixqi; 
three  days,  and  from  2  c.  to  4  c.  for  each  day  after  that.  A  list  is  also  printed  of  five  places  in 
London  where  they  may  be  stored  at  rates  varying  from  4  c  to  12  c.  a  day,  and  from  12  c.  to 
37  c.  a  month.    "  Cycles  go  free,  when  accompanied  by  owner,  on  Belgian  mail  steamen  from 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION,  603 

net  wilb.  If  'rediictxiD  of  nt«*  it  tought  for  at  ■]],  k  ihtMild  bd  odI^  Id  Ihc  bir^  ddei, 
vhcre  'an  increueof  camforu^  is  not  a  crying  wauiL  Were  Iho  Leiigue  thm  to  be  ilx  neiiru 
if  r?i(iDE  tbe  ffmde  (mher  than  iowcnng  tbe  price)  of  A  Mriei  of  country  hotels^  i[  would  per. 


ThoK  wordiwen  wriluD  nhile 

I  wail 

"„, 

"  which  the  bed-buga  had  out  oi 

[  med' 

uring  a  liDgle  night  id  Marylaod  (see 

P  >39)1 

andl 

.Uor, 

00   llK 

Ivice  ol  -. 

1  local 

tysle. 

Id  tempt  ms  inio  patnmizing  ' 

'  Ihe  League  holEJ,"  dspiie  mr  usual  nile 

«i.ing 

"ihe 

high-,  priced,"  1  ™  agaio 

bilteo. 

folly  perlupi  helped  impire  Ihe  wir 

gaiut  "  tcduciioni  "  which  I  priniei 

I,  ■  few 

weeks 

li.e.. 

-keepen  "  ISfri-efitld  Wluilmtn'i 

GautU, 

Aug., 

'&t.P 

.  5.},<uidlratawhicb[  e-lnict 

errors. 

t  difiereol  Slatei  and  Pronnc 

a,'h: 

IS  only  conArmed   iny  belief  that  wh 

al  Ihe  c 

need  is  better  hotels— not  chei 

pel  on. 

E>.     The  cune  of  Canadian  touriDg 

is  the  diflicully 

ding  a  lavem  which  chiigei  idd 

re  that 

ire  lor 

Ihaip 

>t.eget 

liu  Ihe  Untied  Staui  for  »i,— whilr 

!  DO  the 

olher 

land, 

theUi-oamednleoheDeDto 

E  (ai  it  always  does  in  Canada)  i  ll 

.oroughly  com- 

price  all  over  the  Union,— o;itside  Ih< 

!  large  ci 

imiig 

.ueuaJiyaaigwdequillytolhe 

fonri 

mpper. 

Wl,« 

lie  traveler  will  pitlend  ihal  a  >i 

ngleoi 

ae  of  IheM,  if  really  gtcd.  can  be  pra6lably  hi 

ippUed 

me  by  many  botela,  and  these  are  □aturaliy  the  onei  which  will  consent  to  a  pitiful  '  reduc- 
tion,' of  Eye  or  ten  cents  on  an  item, '  to  League  men.'    Believing  this,  1  take  special  pauu  to 

assertion  ol  mine  as  lo  the  wislani  and  economy  of  doing  ».  '  The  beal  is  always  the 
cheapest :'  that  ii  the  simple  rule  for  trasaient  patrons  of  hotels  to  follow.  Were  Ihey  planning 
to  slay  a  week  or  a  month  at  a  place,  they  might  contrive  tn  save  money  by  choosing  a  second- 
rate  hotel ;  but  for  a  ungle  meal  or  lodgii^  they  will  save  money,  aa  weU  as  their  self-tespect, 
by  patronising  the  '  best.'  Let  the  League,  Iherefore,  lend  its  induence  not  to  the  breaking 
down  of  rates,  which  are  already  too  low,  but  to  the  building  up  of  the  standard  of  the  pooreel 
of  [he  two-dollar  houses  to  Ihe  very  creditable  level  now  held  by  the  best  of  Ibem.  The  price 
is  really  a  fined  quantity,  and  any  appearance  of '  cutting;  undet '  umply  ensures  to  the  assumed 
benefidaiy  Ihe  poorest  accommodations  which  Ihe  hotel-keeper  can  palm  off  upon  him.  It  it 
IB  known  thai  the  'League  hotel '  is  always  designed  lo  be  Ihe  'Iksi  '  one  in  its  locality,  its 
owner  will  have  a  motive  for  kee^nng  it  up  to  Ihe  standard ;  and  he  will  welcome  touring  wheel- 
men to  enjoy  ila  choicest  comlorts,  as  being  a  cTass  of  patrons  who  Eipecl  to  have  good  things 
and  to  pay  the  fidl  price  lor  them.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  picayjne  policy  of  seeking  '  spe- 
dal  rales'  be  persisted  in  (in  stupid  disregard  of  the  difierent  conditions  of  h«el-]iee[Hng  in 
England  and  America),  tbc  man  who  '  reduces '  a  so  c  dinner  to  40  c  will  take  good  care  that 
ha  reduces  the  cost  of  it  lo  half  that,  and  he  will  despise  the  cycler  besides." 

"The  methods  of  Ihe  C.  T.  C.  and  L.  A.  W.,  in  the  direction  of  hotel  appwntments,  are, 

hope  to  sec  the  time  when,  through  the  influence  of  these  two  sodetics,  wheelmen  (paying 


6o4         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

many  bed-bug  bite»,  I  warn  every  tourist  to  patraoize  the  highest-priced  hotels  within  his  readi, 
and  to  shun,  as  he  would  shun  a  pestilence,  those  hostehies  which  announce  a  '  reduction  of 
rates.' "  A  fortnight  later  i^B.  IV.,  Jan.  30,  '85)  I  again  plied  the  sledge-hammer,  thus  :  "  So 
long  as  '  champagne '  continues  preferable  to  '  cider/  so  long  as  dean  and  costly  things  coo- 
tinue  preferable  to  cheap  amd  nasty  ones,  the  trader  who  enters  the  markets  of  the  worid  with  a 
really  good  article,  will  outsell  the  '  Cheap  John,'  every  time.  Nothing  is  cheap  which  a  man 
does  n't  want ;  and  certainly  no  touring  wheelman  wants  a  mouldy  bed  in  an  ill-ventilated  room, 
as  a  resting-place  after  a  hard  day's  ride.  The  ultimate  logical  result  of  '  reduced  hotel  rates ' 
is,  necessarily  and  ineviubly,  that  the  assumed  beneficiaries  thereof  are  forced  to  accept  '  the 
leavings '  of  those  who  pay  the  regulation  price.  Witness  the  sarcastic  remark  of  the  fVAeeTs 
editor  concerning  his  sad  experience  of  last  September  :  '  We  noticed  the  great  advantage  of 
"  League  rates "  at  the  recent  Albany  meet,  where  some  of  the  wheelmen  were  carefnDy 
stowed  under  the  roof,  at  a  saving  of  50  c.  a  day.'  Likewise  take  the  testimony  of  a  recent 
traveler  in  England  :  *  I  went  to  several  C.  T.  C.  hotels,  but  found  them  to  be  mioomfortable, 
and  in  many  cases  third-class.  I  was  obliged  to  go  elsewhere.  I  found  that  a  C.  T.  C.  tailor 
who  made  me  a  uniform  had  one  price  for  a  C.  T.  C.  man  and  another  price  for  him  who 
wished  a  well-made  suit.'  All  this  merely  illustrates  the  venerable  truth  that  there 's  no  such 
thing  as  getting  any  really  valuable  service  in  this  world  without  paying  a  good  price  for  it. 
The  fallacy  of  supposing  that  by  some  trick  or  *  arrangement '  something  cam  be  got  '  for 
nothin','  is  very  dear  to  the  human  heart,  especially  to  the  youthful  human  heart ;  but  it  is 
}  absolutely  a  fallacy.  Yet  an  editorial  supporter  of  the  League's  ostensible  policy  asks :  '  What 
-  does  the  B.  U^.  refer  to  when  it  speaks  of  "  increased  attention  and  special  privileges  "  ?  Is 
it  not  dealing  in  glittering  generalities  ?  H  not,  we  would  be  glad  to  know  it.  Good,  first-dass 
food ;  good,  accessible,  and  well-furnished  rooms,  and  polite  and  prompt  service  is  all  that  any 
visitor  at  a  public  hostelry  can  ask.  What  more  does  a  wheelman  need,  save  safe  storage  for 
his  wheel  ? '  To  this  I  reply :  '  The  wheelman  certainly  needs  nothing  more,  and  he  can  cmi- 
sider  himself  wonderfully  fortunate  if  he  gets  as  much.  My  own  experience  is  (and  it  repre- 
sents hundreds  of  miles  traveled  in  every  year  since  i860,  and  thousands  of  miles  in  several  of 
those  years)  that  "good,  first-dass  food"  can  rarely  be  obtained;  that  "good,  accessible 
rooms"  can  rarely  be  obtained;  that  "polite  and  prompt  service  "can  rarely  be  obtained. 
The  chances  are  always  against  a  traveler's  getting  these  things,  even  when  he  pays  full  price ; 
and  I  protest  that  it  is  absurd  to  diminbh  or  destroy  those  chances  by  any  talk  about  "  reduc- 
tion of  rates."  There  is  no  "glittering  generality"  in  the  demand  for  "increased  attention 
and  spedal  privileges  "  as  a  reward  for  the  League's  recommendation  of  a  given  hotel  to  the 
patronage  of  wheelmen.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  spedfic  and  exact  demand.  It  means  that 
the  landlord  should  favor  this  particular  sort  of  guest  with  a  choice  room,  where  he  will  not  be 
kept  awake  by  the  trains  or  by  the  rattling  of  dishes  in  an  adjacent  kitchen  or  dining-hall ;  it 
means  that  the  landlord  should  provide  a  late  supper  or  early  breakfast  for  him  without  grum- 
bHnfe ;  it  means  that  wet  dothes  shou'd  be  dried  and  dirty  clothes  should  be  washed  quickly 
and  cheerfully ;  it  means  that  there  should  be  an  abundance  of  water  and  towels ;  it  means,  in 
short,  just  those  "  increased  attentions  and  special  privileges  "  whidi  constitute  the  difference 
between  comfort  and  wretchedness.' 

"  There  are  certain  classes  of  people  whom  landlords  always  try  to  please  and  placate  by 
offering  them  the  '  the  best ' ;  and  there  are  other  classes  whose  patronage  they  are  glad  to  get 
by  offering  them  the  worst  at  'reduced  rates.'  As  an  individual,  I  insist  on  getting  myself 
included  among  the  former;  and,  in  so  far  as  the  policy  of  *  L,  A.  W.'  or  *  C.  T.  C  tends  to 
make  the  hotel-keei>ers  look  contemptuously  upon  all  wheelmen  as  a  low-priced  crowd,  for 
whom  '  the  leavings '  are  quite  good  enough,  I  cry  out  against  it  as  a  personal  affront.  I  will 
never  knowingly  patronize  a  hotel  of  *  reduced  rates  to  wheelmen,' except  under  compulsion. 
The  very  fact  of  consenting  to  offer  such  rates  shows  that  the  landlord  thinks  their  patronage 
of  a  trivial  and  undesirable  sort.  Most  of  them,  so  far  as  my  observation  goes,  are  indined  to 
look  upon  all  the  red-tape  formalities  of  *  official  aj^intment '  as  so  much  fol-de-rol  and 
child's  play,  which  they  submit  to  because  it  costs  them  nothing,  but  not  because  they  have  any 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION. 


tioDUcly,  in  sue  jiny  vjclinu  are  dnvn  in  by  tuch  pnHDbe-    When  asked  to  make  a  dcBnite 

officcfl  of  '  Ihe  prat  American  Toad-book,  dub-direClDry  and  hQlcl-guidCt'  for  Ihe  convenience  ol 
louiiog  wbeeJmen.and  for  the  nacld-wide  adveRiMmenl  of  Uieir  own  hoateliiei),  they  are  sosJow 
and  leluctaat  about  ilaa  to  prove  their  geneial  tcepIidiRi  on  theiubjcct  of  wheeling,"  The  diS- 
cultiea  of  ovensming  Ibii  aceptidHn  were  detailed  id  a  (DiR-cnliunn  anide  of  mine  ( Whal, 
Dec  16,  '84),  thawing  that  moat  ol  the  SS  holela  then  entolled  as  mpponeti  o(  my  acheme  had 
been  w<hi  u>  it  by  the  vertu]  persuasion  of  local  iubecriben.  Only  10  rciponiea  came  to  me 
from  ff>  hotel*  10  which  J  addreaied  leaied  hectograph  letten,  reminding  each  propnetor  of  the 
eicact  dale  when  1  regiatered  at  bia  house,  while  touring  do  a  bicycle,  and  asking  him  to  fairly  con- 
■idet  Ifae  argument  of  my  printed  "  hotel  circulai."  As  originally  published,  in  the  Sfrmtfitld 
IfifrlmrK'i  Gaiitlt,  iai  (reely  mailed  by  the  editor '  thereof  lo  the  6ig  leading  hnlela  with 
wboae  names  [  supplied  him,  the  areolar  brought  "  juat  one  "  reaponae  I  A  trio  of  eiception- 
ally  intelligent  and  good-natured  landlords,  whom  I  vveraily  met  while  touring  in  Pennsyl- 
nnia,  New  York  and  Conoecticut,  and  penuided  to  take  the  book,  told  me  they  did  so 
because  they  believed  its  road-reporls  might  be  worth  a  dollar  to  them,  and  not  because  of  my 
argument  that  the  advertisement  implied  io  the  book's  triple  mention  of  hotel's  name  would  be 
of  value.  They  professed  an  entire  disbelief  as  to  the  existence  of  any  bicydjng  traffic  worth 
tnaking  a  bid  lor.  Now,  if  such  men  chensh  this  mistaken  idea  of  the  case,  and  attach  no 
business  impDTtanix  to  so  tangible  a  thing  as  an  advertiKmenl  in  a  book  with  a  guaranteed  cir^ 
culalion  of  jooo  copies,  wtial  value  would  they  he  likely  to  put  on  so  shadowy  and  remote  a 
thing  aa  "  oOdal  rccDmmendilica  of  the  L,  A.  W,"  or  C.  T,  C.  i 

1  answer  this  by  again  reiterating  the  Irulh  that  their  willingness  to*' offer  reduced  rales  tn 
the  League"  will  always  fx  in  exact  proponJtHi  to  their  contempt  for  the  League,  if  that 
OT^niaation  wislieB  to  convince  the  landlords  of  its  Fespectat»lity  ond  practical  importance,  the 
irery  first  step  must  be  in  the  line  of  proving  that  the  people  whom  it  represents  rlemand  the 

majority  of  American  cyclers  ranges  between  so  and  sjyearsi  and  they  are  not  only  young 
men,  but,  from  the  nature  of  things,  they  are  active  and  enterprising  men;  they  are  men  who 
travel  {by  train  and  boat,  as  a  matter  of  business,  as  well  as  by  bicycle  as  a  tnailer  of  pleasure), 

a  class  distmctivcly  well'to-do ;  and,  as  such,  they  not  nnly  spend  money  themselves,  but  they 
are  iiduential  in  shaping  the  direction  in  which  their  numerous  acquainlaiKes  spend  money. 
In  a  wovd,  they  arc  a  set  of  people  whose  patronage  and  good'will  are  specially  worth  securing 
by  the  hotel-keeper.  If  the  League  can  convince  the  Utter  of  this  Irulh,  and  also  of  its  own 
power  to  diven  that  palrouge  ai>d  good-will  towards  the  hotels  which  make  a  hid  for  it  by 
ofieriog  the  highest  standard  ol  comfort,  it  will  finally  force  them  10  recogniie  lis  recommenda- 
tion as  worthy  ol  real  reaped.  For  a  certificate^  to  be  hung  in  the  hotel-offices,  I  should  sug- 
DHt  wimp  mirh  fnrrniila  ■«  rhp  fnllmvin*  !  *'  The  league  of  American  Whcclmeo  recommenda 
The  consideration   oBetid  by  the  owner  is 

pt  drying  of  clothes,  the  convenient  storage 
nlilated  sleeping*roora),  or  who  may  suffer 


lent  accorded  him  here  should  take  ] 
hus  help  give  the  hotel  a  reputation 
Imen.  Th»  cerlifi^te  is  issued  to  B 
ly  10,  '86.  and  may  he  withdraws  a 
id  chief  consul.)    Those  who  are  curio 


\ 


608  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

each  member  each  night,  6  c. ;  waiter's  fee  for  each  member  each  meal,  6  c.  Subling  or  warehous- 
ing of  cycles  provided  free  during  the  member's  stay  at  his  house,  (a)  That  he  will  charge  the  said 
tariff  only  to  the  bona  fide  members  of  the  club,  but  they  shall  first  be  required  by  him  to  produce 
their  respective  and  individual  tickets  of  membership  for  the  then  current  year,  and  further  that  he 
will  im/  accord  or  admit  to  any  privileges,  benefits  or  reduction  derivable  under  this  agreement, 
any  cyclist  or  tourist  who  is  not  a  member  of  the  C.  T.  C.  (3)  That  he  will  at  any  time  set  aside  a 
room  for  the  holding  of  any  committee  or  coundl  meeting  of  the  club  without  charge.  (4)  That 
upon  the  termination  of  this  agreement,  he  will  remove,  or  cause  to  be  removed,  any  and  every 
sign,  notice  or  advertisement,  which  may  have  been  exhibited  upon  any  part  of  his  hotel  or 
prembes,  or  in  any  publication,  signifying  that  his  said  hotel  is  a  headquarters  of,  or  in  any  other 
way  connected  with,  the  club.  This  agreement  to  be  terminable  only  by  the  giving  of  either 
party  to  the  other  one  calendar  month's  notice  in  writing  of  his  or  their  intention  so  to  do." 
Such  is  the  formula  signed  by  the  secretary  of  the  C.  T.  C,  in  certifying  the  appointment  of 
"  official  hotels  "  in  England  and  Ireland.  The  one  used  in  Scotland  is  identical,  except  that 
the  tariff  is  as  follows :  "  Tea  or  coffee,  with  eggs,  in  the  morning,  or  plain  tea,  with  eggs,  at 
evening,  37  c  (or  50  c.  if  ham  or  fish  be  added  to  either  repast) ;  luncheon,  in  the  forenoon,  or 
supper  at  night,  of  cold-meat,  bread  and  cheese,  37  c. ;  dinner,  of  soup  or  fish,  joints,  sweets, 
bread  and  dieese,  63  c. ;  single-bedded  room  for  one,  50  c. ;  double-bedded  room  for  two,  87  c ; 
attendance  fees  per  night  for  each,  25  c"  The  C.  T.  C.  hotels  in  France  agree  to  a  cheaper 
tariff,  thus  :  '*  Coffee,  tea  or  chocolate,  with  bread  and  butter,  20  c  ;  table  d*hite,  with  wine 
or  cider,  50  c.  for  breakfast  and  60  c  for  dinner;  bed-room,  40  c,  waiter's  fee,  5  c  ;  chamber- 
maid's fee,  10  c."  "  On  the  continent,  outside  of  France,  it  has  been  found  that  the  chaiges  ia 
the  various  towns  and  villages  vary  to  such  a  degree  that  no  advantage  would  attend  the  adc^ 
tion  of  a  fixed  tariff.  The  figures  exacted  at  the  hotels  recommended  in  the  Hand-book  will, 
however,  as  a  rule,  be  found  to  be  a  reduction  upon  those  in  force  in  England,  while  the  ac- 
commodation  is  such  as  has  commended  itself  to  the  majority  of  wheel  tourists.  In  the  United 
States,  the  hotels  under  arrangements  with  the  C.  T.  C.  adopt  no  tariff,  but  make  a  reduction  of 
ao  per  cent,  from  their  ordinary  prices  upon  production  of  membership  ticket."  (See  pp.  639-41.) 
The  foregoing  statement  shows  that  all  the  C.  T.  C.  hotels  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland 
charge  75  c.  for  lodging  (with  attendance  fees),  as  against  50  c.  of  the  usual  $a  hotels  in  this 
country ;  and  it  is  a  fair  inference  that  the  three  meals  which  could  be  got  for  the  remaining 
$1.2$  in  the  former  case  would  be  far  less  satisfactory  than  the  "  breakfast,  dinner  and  sup- 
per" which  could  be  got  for  the  remaining  $1.50  in  the  latter  case.  In  other  words,  after  all 
the  fuss  and  petty  dickering  implied  in  the  quoted  arrangement  for  British  C.  T.  C.  hotels,  the 
patron  thereof  cannot  pretend  to  get  along  for  less  than  $2  a  day ;  and  the  comforts  ensured 
him  by  that  expenditure  appear  in  most  cases  to  be  much  inferior  to  what  a  man  gets  at  the  best 
of  our  own  $2  country  taverns.  This  again  demonstrates  the  folly  of  trying  to  beat  down  that 
standard  rate.  Good  accommodations  cannot  profitably  be  provided  for  less.  What  bicycle  tour- 
ists should  strive  for  is  the  encouragement  of  the  more  poorly-appointed  among  the  $2  houses  to 
rise  to  the  very  creditable  level  of  the  best  in  that  class.  What  every  really  economical  tourist 
longs  for,  is  a  larger  number  of  country  hotels  of  the  $2.50  and  $3  class,  which  will  charge  him 
75  c.  or  $1  for  dinner,  and  give  him  his  money's  worth.  As  I  account  it  unprofitable  for  the 
L.  A.  W.  to  copy  the  "  small  potatoes  "  policy  of  the  C.  T.  C.  in  regard  to  "  reduced  rates,"  so 
I  account  it  undignified  in  the  L.  A.  W.  to  copy  the  narrow-mindedness  implied  in  the  C.  T. 
C.'s  endeavor  to  exclude  wheelmen  who  are  non-members  from  such  benefits  as  may  attach  to 
its  negotiations  with  the  inn-keepers.  Rather  should  the  League  try  to  magnify  its  own  impor- 
tance by  assuming  to  have  a  good  degree  of  control  upon  the  inclinations  of  tUl  cyclers, — ^in  re- 
spect to  their  patronage  of  certain  hotels,  as  well  as  of  certain  railways  (p.  598).  It  should  say 
nothing  to  the  landlords  about  tickets  or  badges,  but  strive  simply  to  assure  them,  by  the  issue 
of  a  certificate  such  as  I  have  suggested,  that  every  tourist  who  comes  to  their  houses  with  a 
bicycle  deserves  specially  good  treatment,  and  that  he  will  advenise  the  fact  of  such  treatment 
among  all  his  cycling  friends.  An  extreme  example  of  what  the  league  ought  not  to  do  has  been 
offered,  oddly  enough,  by  its  chief  consul  in  the  great  gold-bearing  Sute  which  ia  q;>eciaUy  cred- 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION. 


609 


Ited  with  favoring  large  and  liberal  ideas  about  money  matter* ;  for  he  announced  in  the  ingls$itU 
(June  a6,*86»  p.  iz)/'  official  oigan  of  the  California  Division,"  that  he  had  sent  to  each  appointed 
hotel  a  copy  of  the  following  letter :  "  On  the  recommendation  of  —^^,  your  hotel  has  been  ap- 
pointed the  League  Hotel  for ,  at  rates  as  agreed  upon,  viz. :  You  are  not  expected  to  give  the 

benefit  of  favorable  rates  and  accommodations  to  wheelmen  who  are  not  members  of  the 
League,  and  unless  they  are  personally  known  to  you  as  such,  you  must  require  them  to  prove 
their  right  to  claim  League  benefits,  by  producing  the  printed  membership  ticket,  which  every 
League  member  has.  Granting-  equal  rights  and  ^tvHegie*  to  wkeelmtn  who  are  not  Ltagut 
numbers  will  ie  considered  sufficient  causo  /or  revoking  this  a/point,mfnt.  This  action  is 
rendered  necessary,  by  the  fact  that  there  are  wheelmen  perfectly  willing  to  avail  themselves  of 
the  advantages  secured  by  our  organisation,  without,  however,  being  possessed  of  sufficient 
manliness  to  join  in  its  support  and  advancement.  Please  post  this  in  a  conspicuous  place  for 
your  own  convenience  and  our  protection."  If  any  California  tavern-keeper  really  has  so  little 
Ttspttii  lor  himself,  and  such  unmitigated  contempt  for  wheelmen,  as  to  consent  to  a  manifesto 
of  this  sort,  an  unusual  frigicfity  and  staleoess  may  be  assumed  to  characterize  the  cold  victuals 
and  other  leavings  which  he  doles  out  to  "  League  members,"  and  the  bed-rooms  to  which  he  as- 
signs them  must  be  unusually  dirty  and  ilUventilated.  Such  a  certificate  is  useful  to  the  intelli- 
gent tourist  only  as  a  danger  signal,  like  the  yellow  flag  of  small-pox  or  cholera,  telling  him 
die  places  to  avoid.  Its  promulgation  in  California  seems  to  show  that  the  silly  formula  already 
noted  as  recommended  to  the  Loigue  in  April,  '84,  by  its  "  committee  on  hotel  certificate,"  has 
never  come  into  general  use. 

Whether  or  not  the  executive  ofiioers  of  the  League  shall  repudiate  this  and  the  California 
plan  for  my  own  stra^htforward  one,  the  duty  b  incumbent  upon  every  consul  and  every  tour- 
ist, who  believes  as  I  do,  to  recommend  all  hotels  which  are  known  to  him  as  honoring  bicyden 
by  the  offer  of  their  beat  accommodations,  instead  of  humiliating  them  by  the  infliction  of  "  re- 
duced rates."  Though  a  few  of  the  latter  sort  are  included  in  the  following  list  of  towns  whose 
hotels  have  subscribed  for  my  book,  I  trust  that  a  perusal  of  these  remarks  may  persuade  their 
IHX>prieton  into  a  pr<Mnpt  change  of  policy ;  since  it  is  my  earnest  wish  that  the  list  shall  have 
distinctive  value  as  a  directory  to  those  hotels  where  the  touring  wheelman  can  always  be  sure 
of  a  welcome  to  indulgence  in  "  the  best "  : 


Academy,  Pa.,  Gen.  H^ayne. 
Akron,  O.,  Sumner. 
AUentown,  Pa.,  American. 
Ahoona,  Vsk.,  Logan. 
Annapolis,  N.  S.,  Dominion. 
Ann  Arbor,  Mich.,  Cook. 
Ardmore,  Pa.,  Ardmore, 
Aidmore,  Pa.,  Red  Lion. 
Augusta,  Ky.,  Taylor. 
Augusta,  Me.,  Angusia. 
Aurora,  IlL,  Evans. 
Baltimore,  Md.,  Rennert. 
Bardstown,  Ky.,  Central. 
Bedford,  Pa.,  Bodford. 
Boia6  City,  Id.,  Overland. 
Bordentown,  N.  J.,  Wasking' 

ton. 
Boston,  Ms.,  IntomatioMal. 
BoatoD,  Ma.,  yondomo. 
Bcattlebora,  Vt.,  Brooks. 
Brooklnie,  Ma.,  ffawtkome. 
BrawBsvUIe,  Pa.,  Bar, 
Bcabla,  N.  X**  Goneseo*      ^ 


Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  Ti/L 
Calais,  Me.,  Amofiam. 
Caldwell,  N.  J.,  CaldwelL 
Caklwell,  N.  Y.,ZaAr. 
Canton,  O.,  Bamett. 
Cave   City,    Ky.,  Mammotk 

Cave. 
Cazenovia,  N.  Y.,  Stanton. 
Chambersbuig,  Pa.,  NationaL 
Chatham,  N.  Y.,  Stamvix. 
Cheshire,  Ct,  IVallace. 
Cheyenne, Wyo.,  Jnter^Ocean, 
Clearfield,  Pa.,  Leonard. 
Clearfield,  Pa.,  Windsor. 
Columbia,  Pa.,  Franklin. 
Constantinople,  Turkey, 

Chamier  of  Commorce. 
Comwall-on-Hudson,  N.  Y., 

Elmer. 
Corry,  Pa.,  Si.  James. 
Curwinaville,  Pa.,  Dratteker, 
Curwinsville,  Pa.»  Park. 
Defiance,  O.,  Cuosfy. 


Devon,  Pa.,  Devon. 
Easton,  Pa.,  United  States. 
Elyria,  O.,  Beeie. 
Garrison's,  N.  Y.,  Nigkland 
Gettysburg,  Pa.,  Eagle. 
Glens  Falls,  N.  Y.,  RockweO. 
Gloucester,  Mass.,  Belmont. 
Grand  Forka,  Dak.,  Griggs* 
Greenfield,  Masa.,  Mansion, 
Greenwich,  Ct.,  Lonox. 
Hagovtomi,  Md.,  BtUdwin. 
Hailey,  Id.,  HaiUy. 
Hailey,  Id.,JMSrr«hMe^*. 
HaUlaa,  N.  S.,  Halifax. 
Hamilton,  Ber.,  Hamilton. 
Hartford,  Ct.,  MerrilCs. 
Hawley,  Pa.,  K^ystont* 
Henderson,  Ky.|  Barrett. 
Highland  Mills,  N.  Y.,  High- 
land MiOs. 
Holyoke,  Ms.,  1Vit$dsor. 
Howard  Lake,  Min.,  Windsor. 
HadaQn,N.  Y.,  »>^. 


6x0 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Indtanai  Pau,  Ameriean, 
■  Indianapolis,  Ind.,  Bait$. 
Indianapolis,  Ind.,  Engiith. 
Jamestown,  N.  Y.,  Sherman. 
Kinderhook.N.  Y.  .Kinderk'k. 
Kingston,  Ont.,  Windsor, 
Lake  Geor^,  N.  Y.,  Lakt. 
Latrobe,  I^.,  Parktr. 
Lebanon,  Ky.,  Norru* 
Lee,  Mass.,  Morgan. 
Lehighton,  Pa.,  Exchange, 
Lubec,  Me.,  Colneook. 
Meriden.Ct.,  Wtntkrop. 
Montgomery,  Ala ,  IVmdmr. 
Momstown,  N.  J.,  Mansion, 
Morristown,  N.  J.,  Park, 
Myeratown,  Pa.,  Banty, 
Natural  Bridge,  Va.,  Pomt, 
Newark,  N.  J.,  ConiinoniaL 
Newbai«,N.  '^..UnifdStaUt. 
New  London,  Ct.,  Crocker, 
New  York,  CarmansvU,  Park, 
New  York,  Grand  Union, 
Niagara  Falls,  Caiaract, 
Niagara  Falls,  International, 
Northampton,  Ms.,  Mansion, 
Orange,  N.  J.,  Mansion. 
Penfield,  Pa.,  Pen/Seld. 
Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Colonnade, 


Philadelphia,  Pa.,  LnfayetU. 
Pine  Blaff,  Ark.,  Amis. 
Part  Jervis,   N.  Y.,    Ciaren' 

donian  and  Deiaware. 
Portland,  Me.,  PrMe, 
Portland,  Or.,  Noiton. 
Portsmouth,    N.  H.,   Kear* 


Princeton,  Ms.,  IVaf^naett. 

Punscaotawney,  'Pz,,St.  Ebno, 

Rochester,  N.  H.,  Dodge* $. 

Rutland,  Vt.,  Bardweil. 

St.  Qoud,  Minn.,  Grand  Cen- 
tral, 

St.  George's,  Ber.,  Globe  and 
St.  Georges. 

Sandhurst,  VkX.,  Niagara, 

Schenectady,  N.  Y.,  CarUy, 

Scfauylennlle,  N.  Y.,  Sckt^ 
lerviUe. 

Scranton,  Pa.,  Forest. 

Shepheidst*wn,  W.  Va.  Jintler 

Silver  Or«ek,  N.  Y.,  Main  St. 

Solon,  Me.,  Mdjmard. 

Somenrille,  N.  J.,  Comity. 

Springfield,  111.,  Revere. 

Stamford,  Ct.,  Stamford 

Stamford,  Ct.,  D«^  Rest. 


Sifllwater,  N.  Y.^ 
Stiasbufs,  Va.,  Ckafybeaie. 
Suffem,  N.  Y.,  Enreka. 
Tarrytown,  N.  Y.,  Vineent. 
Titusvflle,  Pa.,  Bmnswiek. 
Towanda,  Pa.,  Ward. 
Trenton,  N.  J.,  Trenton. 
Unaontown,   Fsl,  McOsOand. 
Utica,  N.  Y.,  Sagg>s. 
VicksbmY,  Mis.,  Washington. 
Warrenton,  Va.,  War.  Green. 
Washington,  l>.C.,WillanPs. 
Washington,  N.  J.,  St.  ClomL 
Waterville,  Me.,  EUnwood 
Waynesboro,  Pa.,  NationaL 
Waynesbw)g,  Pa.,  Domn^. 
Wdlabaro,  Pa.,  Coles. 
Mrcstboto,  Ms.,  treslboro. 
West  Orange;  N.  J.,  Liewot-^ 

iyn  Peuyt. 
West  Point,  Ga.,  Clark. 
W.  Randolph,  Vt. ,  Red  Lion. 
Wheeling,  W.  Va.,  New  JUt^ 

Clare. 
Williamstown,  Ms., 
Windsor,  N.  S.,  Victoria. 
Yonkers,  N.  Y.,  Getty. 
Yookeis,  N.  Y.,  Mansion. 
York,  Pa.,  Waskit^Un. 


Staunton,  Va.,  Virginia. 

Ten  times  as  many  towns  as  are  named  above  might  well  keep  this  book  on  file  in  their  chief 
hotels ;  and  the  size  of  the  supplementary  list  of  such,  which  I  hope  to  print  in  the  seocmd  and  later 
editions,  will  depend  largely  upon  the  diqxisition  of  my  subscribers  to  exhibit  the  volume  to 
the  landlords  of  their  respective  localities  and  persuade  them  to  buy  it.  For  the  use  of  voIn&> 
teer  agents  of  this  sort,  I  reprint  the  following  plea  for  it  as  a  valuable  piece  of  *'  hotel  litems 
ture,"  entirely  independent  of  its  power  to  attract  the  special  patronage  of  wheelmen  {,Sfr.  Wk. 
Com.,  Aug.,  '84,  p.  5a)  :  "  Its  descriptions  of  roads  will  be  of  service  to  riden  and  driven  of 
horses  and  wagons  as  well  as  to  bicyclers ;  the  appearance  of  the  book  will  be  quite  as  orna<> 
mental  as  that  of  the  '  dty  directory,'  and  the  '  railroad  and  steamboat  guides,-  which  it  will  las 
among ;  and  the  novelty  of  its  tiUe  will  compel  the  perusal  of  it  in  preference,  to  them,  by  trevw 
elen  who  are  engaged  in  killing  time.  Some  of  these,  notidng  the  book's  list  of  hotels,  will 
naturally  be  attracted  to  make  trial  of  one  or  another  of  those  mentioned  there.  Hence,  it  b 
for  the  interest  of  eadi  hotel  which  has  the  book  that  the  hotels  of  as  many  other  towns  as  pos> 
sible  ^h<'ald  have  it ;  for  the  copies  thns  phiced  will  be  consulted  by  a  much  larger  number  of 
people  than  those  which  are  privately  held.  It  is  for  the  interest  of  each  private  owner,  who 
may  be  tempted  to  do  any  touring,  that  the  book  should  be  thus  kept  pnblidy  aooeasiUe  to  him 
in  as  numy  towns  as  possible,  in  order  that  its  information  as  to  roads,  hotels  and  dubs  dwuki 
always  be  at  his  command,  without  the  need  of  dragging  about  the  heavy  volume  itself.  It  is 
for  my  own  private  interest,  as  calculated  to  assist  the  sale  of  the  book,  ^t  a  very  large  boCtf 
Est  should  add  to  its  value  in  the  eyes  of  purduuera,  by  giving  them  a  knowledge  of  as  many^ 
places  as  passible  to  which  baggage,  lettera  and  telegrams  may  safely  be  sent,  in  advance  of 
their  own  arrival.  Still  farther,  though  it  is  conceivable  that  some  toorfsts  might  be  deterred 
from  purdiasing  the  book  by  a  knowledge  that  they  cotild  consult  it '  for  nothing '  at  every 
hotel  on  their  route,  the  mere  presence  of  the  book  In  all  these  public  resorts  ooidd  aftt  Cut  to 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION.  6i  i 

■HBTprinlc  pnrChBem."  Indeed,  uldonot  nlntd  making  atlc*  Ihmult 
uhil^iim  of  lE  in  the  huld  officee  ma^  probably  be  mj  chief  meuia  of  oucAw 
Bg  Ibe  eye  of  the  Ddii'CTCling  pablic  Thoie  CrieDde  oC  my  Khene,  therefore,  who  inay  ttUsk 
Ibfl  book  ft  creditable  repreeeatatrrt  of  the  ipon, — aod  likely  to  impreH  Iti  reipeclabilily  DpOB 
outaideia,  if  ttot  also  lo  luke  converU  of  thcnij— may  nuoifoA  their  frkcKdltncos  n»at  acceptably 
by  daing  uiinonaTy  mrk  aimng  the  local  ioibkeepcn.  Tti*i  dua  of  men  arc  not  apt  to  pay 
Buch  heed  to  circulara,  or  tpedinen  chapteia,  or  vritten  appeali  which  came  to  them  throufh 
the  maili  \  but  if  ■  peraonal  acquaintaoce  actually  eahibilB  Ifae  mlnme,  and  eiplaini  the  imount 
of  a^wiiaing  which  ila  purchase  incideatally  ensurea,  they  will  lialeo  Id  him  civilly  aod  yield  to 
■he  fane  of  hia  arguiDenc.  In  buying  this  book,  each  one  of  them  iprea  a  practical  token,  how* 
ever  ioall,  of  hia  belief  that  touriog  wheelmen  arc  worthy  of  the  best  posaibla  treatment,  and 
that  tbcy  aland  quits  supeHor  le  Iha  atigma  which  would  n 
"  reduced  nles,  cdd  ncluala  and  contempt," 

"  Appletoni'  Diciioiiary  of  New  York  "  (described  on 
daanfyiog  the  innucnertblc  hotels  and  rcstanTanta  of  the  c 

of  ijohoteli,  I  Klea  for  mention  tlie  Brevoon,  as  the  ( 

tim  baiBS  in  Fifth  av.,  on  (he  first  comer  above  WashinEtonSqtnu 

repose  are  its  charactoristics,  and  they  render  ii  a 

(ialiy  Ihe  En^iih — who  like  the  aolid  comfeMaof  a  quiet  life.    Lo^ng  then  nM 

fi.^or  fli  and  his  diyii  sipensei  in  iU  icSauiant  cannot  eiuly  be  kept  below 

not  many  better  raUuiaslaia  Iba  woiU,  and  f  da  not  luppoae  thai  Ihe  beat  in  either  Paris  or 

London  0n  present  ma  extenacve  a  bi]l-of-fare  \  but,  if  this  be  ordered  from  with  discretion,  two 

friends  may  dine  logether  quite  acmtptnoaaly  for  fi.soeach,  oraatiifaclarily  even  for^i.    Tho 

RCTCt  of  it  ifl  that  a  aingle  *'  portion  ^'  (of  soop,  fish,  meal,  vcgelablea  or  what  not)  is  Kbceal 

enough  Id  suffice  for  two.    The  sams  rale  holdi  good  at  the  Delmonioo,  Dninairick.  Hoffman, 

aa  noch  as  he  can  consume.  Only  foin-  bloda  n.  of  WaihingUn  Square,  ia  the  Hotel  St. 
Stephen,  on  nth  St.,  and  a  few  rods  e.  of  this,  al  the  oomer  of  Broadway,  »ihe  St.  Denia. 
ComfoRable  rocana  can  be  had  at  each  phica  for  f  i  or  fi.jD  a  day,  and  I  recommend  Ihem  aa 
lodgings  for  (hoss  who  feel  oppressed  by  the  heavy  respectability  of  (he  firevooR.  Tbeir  tts- 
laurants  an  rather  gili^dged,  as  to  style  and  prices,  hut  sevei^  other  satiaf  adory  onea,  of  leaa 
slegance  and  lower  rates,  may  be  found  near  by,-~such  as  the  iiindair,  on  the  camor  of  Broad- 
way and  llhsl.,  and  McMaous's  nyiter  and  ehup  house  (open  from  oooo  untD  a  A.  H.),  at 
fs  Unrvcnity  Place.  For  viailors  who  insist  on  pstrooixing  '*  American  plan  "  hotels,  I  can 
recommend  these  two  which  iia  neanst  to  ma  on  Broadway:  the  New  Yorii,  al  ND.;iiand 
Ifae  Grand  Cenml,  al  No.  6;r.  I  balieve  their-  daily  nts  is  Ij.jo,  which  is  lisble  to  be  in- 
creased when  specially  fine  i«nns  an  mdered  1  and  Ihe  aame  may  be  laid  of  the  Melropoli- 
tan.  at  jS^  Broadway.  I  mentioa  the  latter  for  tha  lalie  of  recdnrmending  ilx  ta6U  d'/Mt  dinner 
(gorqoonnes,  with  a  bailie  of  wine),  which  iaaervBd  lor  (r,finn  jiair.  k.  Similar  dinnera 
may  be  had  at  Ihnea  hours,  for  7SC.,  al  tbo  St.  George  (No.  Ssj,  Juat  above  ralh  it.),  artd  Iha 
Hrmpria  (s.  e.  corner  of  Union  Square,  just  above  14th  at.).  The  Hnngana  serves  an  excellent 
hmdi  (soap,  meal,  vegetables  and  dessen)  few 

day  in  the  week,  for  «5c,al  Colombo's,  si  T 
Sundaya),  al  Delisle'a,  in  tha  baaemenl  of  91  P 

piMes  iMt  Darned,  btit  ia  included  in  ihe  30  c.  nu 
Third  «v.  I  al  Thaodore'a,  4y  E.  lolh  St ;  n  J 
W.  ltd)  aL  t  al  I))  Third  v 


6io 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Indiana,  Pa.,  Amtrkan. 
•  Indianapolis,  Ind.,  Baits. 
Indianapolis,  Ind.,  English. 
Jamestown,  N.  Y.,  Sherman, 
Kioderhook,N.  Y.  .KiiuUrh'h. 
Kingston,  Ont.,  Windsor. 
Lake  George,  N.  Y.,  iMke. 
Lacrobe,  Pa.,  Parher. 
Lebanon,  Ky.,  Norris, 
Lee,  Mass.,  Marg€ut. 
Lehigbton,  Pa.,  Exehangs. 
Labec,  Me.,  CaAscatih. 
Meriden,Ct.,  Wtnthro^. 
Montgomery,  Ala ,  Windsor. 
Morristown,  N.  J.,  Mansion. 
Morristown,  N.  J.,  Parh. 
Myerstown,  Pa.,  Bansy. 
Natural  Bridget  Va.,  Fcrsst. 
Newark,  N.  J.,  CantinsntaL 
Vewbwrg,li.Y.,l/Hd'dSiaUs. 
New  London,  Ct.,  Crocker. 
New  York,  GtrjM«nuv«r.  Park. 
New  York,  Grand  Union. 
Niagara  Falls,  Cataract. 
Niagara  Falls,  tntematiomai. 
Northampton,  Ms.,  Mansion. 
Orange,  N.  J.,  Masuion. 
Penfield,  Pa.,  Penfield. 
Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Cohnnado* 


Philadelphia,  Pa.,  La/ayette. 
Pine  Bluff,  Ark.,  Amis. 
Port  Jervis,  N.  Y.,    Claren- 

donian  and  Deiaware. 
Portland,  Me.,  PreNe. 
Portland,  Or.,  HoUon. 
Pcxrtsmouth,    N.  H.,   Kear^ 

sarge. 
Princeton,  Ms.,  IVexhusett. 
Punxsutawney,  'Pz.tSt.  Elmo. 
Rochester,  N.  H.,Dodgte*s. 
Rutland,  Vt.,  Bardwell. 
St.  Qoud,  Minn.,  Grand Cen^ 

tral. 
St.  George's,  Ber.,  GMo  and 

St.  Georges. 
Sandhurst,  Vict. ,  Niagara, 
Schenectady,  N.  Y.,  Carley. 
SchuylervUle,  N.  Y.,  Schs^- 

lerville. 
Scranton,  Pa.,  Forest. 
Shepherdst'wn,  W.  Va.  ^ntter 
Silver  Cr«ek,  N.  Y.,  Main  St. 
Solon,  Me.,  Maynard. 
Somerville,  N.  J.,  Conniy. 
Springfield,  111.,  Revere. 
Stamford,  Ct.,  Stamford. 
Stamford,  Ct.,  Depot  Rest. 


Stillwater,  N.  Y.^  Ensign, 
Straabuig,  Va.,  Chalybeate. 
Suffem,  N.  Y.,  Snreha. 
Tarrytown,  N.  Y.,  Vincent. 
Titttsville,  Pa.,  BmnswicA. 
Towanda,  Pa.,  Ward 
Trenton,  N.  J.,  Trenton. 
Uniontown,   'Bz.f  McClellan.^ 
Utica,  N.  Y.,  Bagg^s, 
Vicksbuig,  Mis.,  Washingto*' 
Warrenton,  Va.,  War.  Gref 
Washington,  l>.C.,Willard's 
Washington,  N.  J.,  St.  Cloua 
Waterrille,  Me.,  Elnauaod. 
Waynesboro,  Pa.,  Natitmal 
Waynesbuig,  Pa.,  Dommey. 
Wellsboro,  Pa.,  CoUs. 
Westboro,  Ms:,  Wettboro. 
West  Orange;  N.  J.,  Ueu 

fyn  Park. 
West  Point,  Ga.,  Clark, 
W.  Randolph,  Vt. ,  Red  L . 
Wheeling,  W.  Va.,  New 

Clare. 
Williamstown,  Ms.,  Mawtj 
Windsor,  N.  S.,  Victorda 
YonkeiB,  N.  Y.,  Getfy. 
Yonkers,  N.  Y.,  Mansiar 
York,  Pa.,  Waskit^gton,. 


Staunton,  Va.,  Virginia. 

Ten  times  as  many  towns  as  are  named  above  might  well  keep  this  book  on  file  in  thriar 
hotels ;  and  the  rise  of  the  supplementary  list  of  such,  which  I  hope  to  print  in  the  second  att<i 
editions,  will  depend  largely  upon  the  disposition  of  my  subscribers  to  exhibit  the  volui 
the  landlords  of  their  respective  localities  and  persuade  them  to  buy  it.    For  the  use  of  \ 
teer  agents  of  this  sort,  I  reprint  the  following  plea  for  it  as  a  valuable  piece  of  "  hotel  ^ 
ttve,**  entirely  independent  of  its  power  to  attract  the  special  patronage  of  wheelmen  [Spr. 
Gas.,  Aug.,  *84,  p.  5a)  :  "  Its  descriptions  of  roada  will  be  of  service  to  riders  and  dn\ 
horses  and  wagons  as  well  as  to  bicyclers ;  the  appearance  of  the  book  will  be  quite  as 
mental  as  that  of  the  '  dty  directory,'  and  the  '  railroad  and  steamboat  guides,!  whidi  it 
among ;  and  the  novelty  of  its  title  will  compel  the  perusal  of  it  in  preference  to  them,  b. 
elers  who  are  engaged  in  killing  time.    Sonae  of  these,  noticing  the  book's  list  of  bote 
naturally  be  attracted  to  make  trial  of  one  or  another  of  those  mentioned  there.    Henc 
for  the  interest  of  each  hotel  which  has  the  book  that  the  hotels  of  as  many  other  towns 
sible  should  have  it ;  for  the  copies  thus  placed  will  be  consulted  by  a  much  larger  mii 
people  than  those  which  are  privately  held.    It  is  for  the  interest  of  each  private  own< 
may  be  tempted  to  do  any  touring,  that  the  book  should  be  thus  kept  publicly  aooeanUe 
in  as  many  towns  as  possible,  in  order  that  Its  information  as  to  roads,  hotels  and  tivhs 
always  be  at  his  command,  trithout  the  need  of  dragging  about  the  heavy  volume  itael' 
for  my  own  private  interest,  as  calculated  to  assist  the  sale  of  the  book,  diat  a  very  ha, 
fist  should  add  to  its  value  in  the  eyes  of  purchasers,  by  giving  them  a  knowle<^  of  s 
places  as  posuble  to  which  baggage,  letters  and  telegrams  may  safely  be  sent,  in  ad     .. 
their  own  arrival.    Still  further,  though  it  is  conceivable  that  some  tourists  might  be 
from  purdiasing  the  book  by  a  knowledge  that  they  could  consult  it '  for  nothing  '  ; 
hotel  oa  their  route,  the  mere  presence  of  the  book  in  all  these  public  nsorts  ooold  nr  v   ^  ^ 


'^^s*   y 


6i2  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

«  35  c  Breakout  may  be  had  for  the  latter  price,  S  to  ii  a.  m.,  at  most  such  places.  The 
proprietOTB  of  these  (and  of  the  higher-priced  ones,  whose  names  and  locations  may  be  found  on 
pi  187  of  the  "  DictMMiary  "  beforeHuentioned)  are  generally  foreigners,  as  also  are  many  of  their 
patrons ;  and  this  fact  should  be  an  additional  attraction  to  those  Americans  who  enjoy  a  chance 
for  incidentally  studying  the  different  phases  of  metropolitan  life.  I  advise  each  visitor  to  begin 
his  city  experiences  at  the  cheapest  places  named,  in  order  to  convince  himself  how  much  more 
esGcellent  and  better-served  a  dinner  these  French  and  lulian  caterers  will  ofiEer  him  than  he 
can  get  for  50c  at  any  "American  plan  "  hotel  Afterwards,  he  may  pay  |i,  |i.as  or  #1.50  for 
\iMtdble  tPkH*t  by  way  of  omiparing  its  superiority  to  "American  **  dinners  of  the  same  price. 

As  I  have  explained  (p.  83)  that  the  touring  wheelmen's  proper  entrance  into  the  city  from 
New  Jersey  is  by  ferry  from  Ft  Lee  to  lasth  St.,  I  will  add  that  the  most  respectable  hotel  near 
his  landing-place  is  the  Hamilton,  newly  built,  at  the  comer  of  that  street  and  8th  av.,  where 
also  is  a  station  of  the  elevated  r.  r.,  which  will  quickly  take  him  down  town.  The  dub-rooms 
of  the  Hau-lem  Wheelmen  are  only  two  blocks  to  the  e.^  at  104  W.  ia4th  st  If  the  tourist  in- 
sists on  entering  the  city  at  the  "  wrong  end  "  (by  any  of  the  r.  r.  ferries,  7  m.  below),  I  can  say 
to  him  that  the  Astor  House,  opposite  the  Post  Office,  has  had  a  good  reputation  for  fifty  years, 
and  is  a  safe  place  to  seek  a  lodging.  If  he  enters  by  train  at  42d  St.,  he  will  find  himself  at  the 
very  door  of  the  Grand  Union,  which  is  a  "  League  hotel"  in  the  sense  that  it  welcomes  the 
officers  thereof  to  hold  their  stated  meetings  there,  without  exacting  any  charge  for  the  meeting* 
place,  but  which  makes  no  pretended  "  reductions  to  wheelmen,*'— as  might  be  inferred  from 
the  fact  that  the  Captain  of  the  Citiaens  B.  C.  is  connected  with  the  management,  and  under* 
derstands  the  policy  of  assigning  them  to  comfortable  rooms  instead.  Dan  Sweeney's  Saloon, 
500  £.  133d  St.,  offered  shelter  to  my  "  334  "  on  the  first  occasion  when  I  ended  a  tour  at  the  dty 
(night  of  Nov.  iz,  '79),  and  has  similarly  favored  me  many  times  since.  It  is  situated  a  few 
rods  e.  of  Harlem  Bridge,  just  about  at  the  end  of  the  Boulevard's  smooth  macadam ;  and  the 
terminal  station  of  the  3d  av.  elevated  r.  r.  is  at  laSth  st,  just  below  the  bridge.  Similariy,  at 
the  issth  St.  terminus  of  the  west-side  line,  my  whed  has  often  found  shelter  at  the  Cannans* 
ville  Park  Hotel,  which  b  on  a  levd  with  the  station  and  a  few  rods  w.  of  it,-— a  flight  of  steps 
and  an  inclined  platform  leading  down  to  both  from  Washington  Heights.  This  is  chiefly 
noted  as  a  summer  restaurant  and  concert-garden,  though  the  bar  is  kept  open  the  year  around, 
and  lodging  is  also  procurable.  At  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  places,  I  find  that  my  bicyda 
may  conveniently  be  stwed,  after  riding  from  the  n.,  when  night  overtakes  me,  or  when  I  am 
for  other  reasons  in  a  hurry  to  take  train  for  the  lower  part  of  the  dty ;  and  I  presume  that  any 
dty-bound  tourist,  under  similar  circumstances,  would  be  welcomed  to  a  temporary  shelter  for 
his  vdieel  at  dther  place.  John  Fleig,  the  first  owner  of  the  Carmansville,  now  keqis  a  saloon 
on  the  w.  side  of  loth  av. ,  at  about  159th  St.,  and  would  doubtless  be  as  good-natured  towards  any 
new-comer  as  he  always  used  to  be  towards  me ;  and  the  "  104th  st.  Hotd,"  on  the  corner  of 
the  Boulevard,  also  deserves  grateful  mention  here,  as  having  often  prorided  me  with  a  free  dub- 
room  in  '79-'8o.  Since  no  money  was  ever  accepted  for  such  favors,  at  any  of  these  foor  hostel* 
ries,  I  think  it  only  fair  to  give  them  all  a  monumoital  advertisement ;  and  so  I  say  that  wheel- 
men in  those  regions,  when  they  thirst  for  the  beer  which  perisheth,  should  resort  to  these  same 
shrines  of  Gambrinus  and  (haply)  drink  from  the  same  glasses  which  invigorated  the  auAor  of 
this  book  during  the  historic  hours  whidi  he  gave  to  polishing  die  nickel-plate  of  "  No.  234." 

As  a  proper  tail-piece  for  the  chapter,  I  append  an  index  to  all  the  hotels  mentiooed  in  the 
text.  The  towns  containing  them  are  alphabetized,  and  the  numeral  after  each  hotd's  name 
shows  the  page  where  mention  is  made :  Academy,  Pa.,  Gen.  Wajme,  389 ;  AUentown,  Pa.,  Allen, 
aao,  American,  387 ;  Amenia,  N.  Y.,  Pratt's,  147 ;  Amityville,  L.  I.,  Douglass,  153  ;  AnnapoKs, 
N.  S.,  Dominion,  385 ;  Auburn,  N.  Y.,  Osbom,  313,  33z ;  Aylmer,  Que.,  Pitcher's,  337 ;  Bar 
Harbor,  Me.,  Grand  Central,  375;  Beacon  Falls,  Ct,  Beacon  Falls,  141,  High  Rock,  141; 
Bedford,  N.  S.,  Bellevue,  387;  Belleville,  Out,  Dafoe,  3x7;  Berlin,  Out,  American,  317; 
Bemardaton,  Ms.,  New  England,  183  *,  Blandford,  Ms.,  Mountain,  isi,  3o8;  Blue  Lidc  Spring, 
Ky.,  Larue,  333,  Boston,  Ms.,  Brunswidc,  loi,  ic6,  Crawford,  105,  in,  Intematioud,  516, 
Parker's,  105,  Revere,  105,  Tremont,  105,  United  States,  114,  V^ndone,  89,  los,  M9,  io6» 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION,  613 

600,  Young%  10$;  Bridgeport,  Ct.,  Atlantic,  248,  249,  Sterling,  248;   Bridgetown,   N.  S., 
Grand  Central,  285;  Bristol  Ferry,  R.  I.,  Bristol  Ferry,  108;  Brockville,  Ont.,  Revere,  326; 
Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  Mansion,  203,  Powers,  215 ;  Bushkill,  Pa.,  Maple  Grove,  299;  Cacouna,  Que., 
Mansion,  329,  St.  Lawrence  Hall,  329 ;  Calais,  Me.,  American,  262,  263  ;  Caldwell,  N.  Y.,  Ft. 
William  Henry,  189;  Caledonia  Springs,  Que.,  Grand,  328;  Campobello,  N.  B.,  Owen,  270; 
Cana)oharie,  N.  Y.,  Nellis,  200;  Caneadea,  N.  Y.,  Garrison,  214;  Canisteo,  N.  Y.,  Canisteo, 
217,  221;  Canton,  Ct.,   Hawks,  145;  Carlisle,  Pa.,  Florence,  344;  Cassbum  Comers,  Que., 
Ottawa,  328 ;  Catskill  (mtns.),  N.  Y.,  Grand,  498,  Kaaterskill,  187,  188,  Laurel,  188,  Mountain, 
188,  Prospect  Park,  188;  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.,  Stanton,  336;  Chambersburg,  Pa.,  National,  344; 
Charlestown,  W.  Va.,  Carter,  384;  Clinton,  Ct.,  Bacon,  132;  Cobourg,  Ont.,  Arlington,  317; 
Columbia,  Pa.,  Franklin,  386;  Coney  Island,  N.  Y.,  Vanderveer*s,  90;  Coming,  N.  Y.,  Dick- 
inson, 218, 221 ;  Cumberiand,  Md.,  Queen  City,  240 ;  Dansville,N.  Y.,  Hyland,  214/221 ;  Darby, 
Pa.,  Buttonwood,  372;  Delaware  Water  Gap,  Kittatinny,  207;  Detroit,  Mich.,  Michigan  Ex- 
change, 306,  311;  Devon,  Pa.,  Devon,  390;  Dixon,  Cal.,  Arcade,  491;  Easton,  Pa.,  United 
States,  173,  387;  Ellicott  City,  Md.,  Howard,  349;  Ephrata,  Pa.,  Mt.  Vernon,  387;  Erie,  N. 
Y.,  Reed,  50,  204,  205  ;  Fairfield,  Pa.,  Mansion,  385  ;  Farmersville,  Pa.,  387;  Flushing,  L.  I., 
Harry  Hill's,   151;  Fonda,  N.  Y.,  Snell,  208;  Fort  Edward,  N.  Y.,  St.  James,   189;  Fort 
Hunter,  N.  Y.,  Mohawk,  200;  Frankfort,  Ky.,Buhr's,  233;  Frederick,  Md.,  City,  238,377'; 
Gait,  Ont.,  Queen,  317;  Gananoque,  Ont.,  International,  317,  325;  Garrison's,  N.  Y.,  High- 
land, 194 ;  Gettysburg,  Pa.,  Eagle,  385 ;  Goshen,  Ct.,  Goshen,  143 ;  Gouvemeur,  N.  Y.,  Van 
Buren,  334;  Great  Barrington,  Ms.,  Berkshire,  148;  Great  Bend,  Pa.,  Godfrey,  207;  Green- 
castle,  Pa.,  National,  344 ;  Greenfield,  Ms.,  Mansion,  183 ;  Greenport,  L.  I.,  Wyandank,  154; 
Hagerstown,  Md.,  Baldwin,  238,  348,  384;  Halifax,  N.  S.,  Four  Mile,  287,  Halifax,  287,  288, 
Seaside,  288,  Three  MQe,  288;  Hamilton,  Ber.,  359;  Hancock,  Md.,  Light,  239;  Harper's 
Feny,  W.  Va.,  Mountain  View,  384;  Harrodsburg,  Ky.,  Curry's  National,  227 ;  Hatfield,  Ms., 
Bagg's,  183;  Hawley,  Pa.,  Ke)rstone,  340 ;  Haydenville,  Ms.,  Briggs,  1x9;  Hicksville,  L.  I., 
Grand  Central,  153  ;  Highland  Mills,  N.  Y.,  Highland  Mills,  171,  Lake,  171 ;  Hoffman's  Ferry, 
N.  Y.,  Patterson,  200;  Holyoke,   Ms.,  Craft's,  118,   Holyoke,  117,  118,  124,  125,   126,  251; 
Honesdale,  Pa.,  Allen,  339;  Hudson,  N.  Y.,  Worth,  196;  Jersey  City,  N.  J.,  Taylor's,  82,  85, 
168;  Kingston,  Ont.,  Windsor,  317;  Kingston,  N.  Y.,  Eagle,  188 ;  Lackawaxen,  Pa.,  William- 
son, 340;  Lake  George,  N.  Y.,   Ft.  William  Henry,   182,  Horicon  Pavilion,  186;  Lebanon, 
Ky.,  Norris,  229;  Lee,  Ms.,  Morgan,  121,  148;  Lehighton,  Pa.,  Exchange,  341;  Lexington, 
Ms.,  Monument,  X03;  Lexington,  Va.,   National,  349,  350;  Litchfield,  Ct,  Bantam  Lake, 
142,  Lake  View,  142,  Mansion,  142,  United  States,  142  ;  Little  Falls,  N.  Y.,  Givan,  200;  Little 
Metis,  Que.,  Astor,  329,  Tariff  Hall,  329;  Little  Neck,  L.  I.,  Snell,  152;  Lloyd's  Neck,  L.  I., 
Columbia  Grove,  151;  London,  Eng.,  Anderton,  536;  London,  Ont.,  Tecumseh,  3x2;  Lubec, 
Me.,  Cobscook,  268 ;  Luray,  Va.,  Luray,  348,  378,  381,  382,  387 ;  Machias,  Me.,  Eastern,  272  ; 
Malvern,  Pa.,  Indian  King,  389;   Martinsburg,  W.  Va.,  Continental,  344 ;  Mattituck,  L.   I., 
Mattituck,  154 ;   Meriden,  Ct.,  Winthrop,  133 ;  Millersburg,  Ky.,  Pumell,  233 ;  Milton,  Ms., 
Blue  Bell,  29,  102,  109,  517;  Mitchell,  Ont.,  Hicks,  313;  Montclair,   N.  J.,  Mansion,  X67; 
Monterey,  Cal.,  El  Monte,  490;  Morristown,  N.  J.,  Mansion,  163;  Mt.  Desert,  Me.,  Grand 
Central,    275;  Mt.  Jackson,  Va.,  Wilson's,  382;   Mt.   McGregory,   N.  Y.,  Balmoral,  192; 
Mount  Morris,  N.  Y.,  Scoville,  58,  213 ;  Mt.  Washington,  N.  H.,  Glen,  515 ;  Myerstown,  Pa., 
Baney,  343 ;  Natural  Bridge,  Va.,  Natural  Bridge,  348,  350;  Naugatuck,  Ct.,  Naugatuck,  x4x ; 
Newark,  Del.,  Deer  Park,  372;  Newburyport,  Ms.,  Merrimac,  xox;  Newfoundland,  N.  J., 
Brown's,  170 ;  New  Hartford,  Ct.,  Carter,  144 ;  New  Haven,  Ct.,  Madison,  400,  Park,  400;  New 
Haven,  Ky.,  New  Haven,  230;  New  London,  Ct.,  Pequot,  130;  New  Market,  Va.,  Central, 
S46,  348.  381,  VaDey  View  Springs,  348,  382  ;  New  Oxford,  Pa.,  Eagle,  495 ;  New  York,  Fifth 
Avenne,  470,  Grand  Union,  138,  New  York,  428 ;  Nis^ra,  N.  Y.,  International,  203  ;  North- 
ampton, Ms.,  Mansion,  X19,  120;  North  Cast,  Pa.,  Haynes,  205,  206:  North  Vallejo,  Cal., 
Four  Mile,  491 ;  Norval,  Ont.,  Dew  Drop  Inn,  318;  Ogdensburg,  N.  Y.,  Seymour,  326,333; 
Old  Lyme,  Ct.,  Clark's,  132;  Oneida,  N.  Y.,  Eagle,  212;  Orwigsburg,  Pa.,  Arcadian,  34a; 
Osprey,  Ont.,  Bristol,  3x6,  318;  Patenon,  N.  J.,  Pickwick,  x6s ;  Peekskill,  N.  Y.,  Eagle,  X94; 


6i4  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Perth,  Ont,  Hick's,  397 ;  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Bingham,  173,  37a ;  Pittsbuii;,  Pa.,  Monongahela, 
496;  Pompton,  N.  J.,  Norton's,  165,  170;  Pond  Eddy,  N.  Y.,  Deleware,  304;  Portage,  N.  Y., 
Cascade,  222  ;  Port  Clinton,  Pa.,  Center,  342;  Port  Elgin,  Ont,  Half  Way,  315 ;  Pert  Jervis, 
N.  Y.,  Delaware,  398,  340 ;  Port  Richmond,  S.  I.,  Bull's  Head,  156,  Continental,  156;  Port 
Stanley,  Ont.,  Fraser,  331 ;  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  Rockingham,  101 ;  Prescott,  Ont,  Revere, 
396,  317;  Princeton,  N.  J.,  Nassau,  377;  Providence,  R.  I.,  Dorrance,  108,  109;  Putney,  Vt, 
Kendrick's,  182;  Quincy,  Ms.,  Robertson,  X09;  Rahway,  N.  J.,  Farmers*  and  Mechanics*, 
167,  Sheridan,  167;  Reading,  Pa.,  Keystone,  343,  Temple  House,  387;  Richmond,  OoL, 
Reilly's,  327;  Riverhead,  L.  I.,  Griffin,  154;  Rivi&re  du  Loup,  Que.,  La  Rochelle,  339;  Rob- 
binston.  Me.,  Brewer,  261,  265,  266;  Rome,  N.  Y.,  Stanwix,  201 ;  St.  Anne's,  Que.,  Clarendon, 
328',  Salem,  Ms.,  Essex,  loi ;  Salem,  Va.,  Roanoke,  348;  Salbbury,  Ct.,  Maple  Shade,  147; 
Sandy  Creek,  N.  Y.,  Sandy  Creek,  335 ;  San  Jose,  Cal.,  St.  James,  493  ;  Saratoga,  N.  Y.,  Con- 
gress Hall,  2x3,  Knickerbocker,  213,  221 ;  Savin  Rock,  Ct.,  Beach,  402 ;  Schooley's  Mtn.,  N. 
J.,  Belmont,  173;  Seymour,  Ct.,  Wilbur,  141;  Sharon,  Ms.,  Cobb's,  106,  109;  Shippensbuig, 
Pa.,  Sherman,  344;  Simcoe,  Ont.,  Battersby,  332;  Smith's  Creek,  Cal.,  Junction,  490;  Smith's 
Falls,  Ont.,  Butler's,  327;  Somerset,  Ber.,  Somerset,  361 ;  Somerville,  N.  J.,  Moore's  County, 
172;  Spencer,  Ms.,  Massasoit,  no,  114;  Staunton,  Va.,  Viiginia,  300,  346;  Stillwater,  N.  Y., 
Center,  192,  Ensign,  192 ;  Strasburg,  Va.,  Chalybeate  Springs,  345,  348,  383 ;  Stratford,  Ont, 
Windsor,  317 ;  Stroudsburg,  Pa.,  Burnett,  341 ;  Susquehanna,  Pa.,  Starucca,  338,  339 ;  Su£Eeni, 
N.  Y.,  Eureka,  171 ;  Tamaqua,  Pa.,  United  States,  399;  Tarrytown,  N.  Y.,  Vincent,  75,  76,77, 
194,  381 ;  Thompson,  Pa.,  Jefferson,  339 ;  Toronto,  Ont.,  Rossin,  3x7 ;  Tracadie,  N.  S.,  Lome, 
391 ;  Trenton  Falls,  N.  Y.,  Moore's,  aoo;  Tuscarora,  N.  Y.,  Tuscarora,  314;  Utica,  N.  Y., 
American^  30I,  Bagg's,  301,  309,  310,  320;  Warrenton,  Va.,  Warren  Green,  374;  Washing- 
ton, D.  C,  National,  497,  St.  Marc,  374,  Wormley's,  34X  ;  Washington,  N.  J.,  St  Cloud,  173 ; 
Watertown,  N.  Y.,  Woodruff,  334;  Waynesboro,  Pa.,  National,  385 ;  Whitehall,  N.  Y.,  Open 
House,  X84;  White  Sulphur  Springs,  Va.,  382  ;  Wilkesbarre,  Pa.,  Wyoming  Valley,  220;  Wi]]- 
iamsport,  Md.,  Taylor,  339 ;  Williamstown,  Ky.,  Campbell,  325,  Sherman,  225 ;  Wilmot  Cor> 
ners,  N.  Y.,  Wilmot,  210;  Winchester,  Va.,  Taylor's,  344;  Windsor,  N.  S.,  Victoria,  386', 
Windsor,  Ont,  Crawford,  296;  Woodstock,  Va.,  Shenandoah,  383,  Strickler,  346;  Yonkers,  N. 
Y.,  Getty,  53,  77,  79,  Peabody,  198;  York,  Pa.,  National,  386;  Yosemite  (Val.),  Cal.,  491. 

I  wisli  it  were  possible  for  me  to  compel  every  landlord  in  America  to  read  and  reflect  upon 
the  "reasons  for  the  stagnation  of  country  hotel-keeping,"  as  given  in  the  Nation  (Sept  bi, 
'84,  p.  317),  to  explain  the  general  losses  in  the  summer-resort  business  of  that  year :  "  Intelli- 
gent people  look  to  the  quality  rather  than  the  quantity  of  what  is  annoimced  upon  a  bill  of  fare. 
They  want  well-prepared  food  of  the  simpler  kinds,  instead  of  an  endless  variety  of  inferior 
cooking,  and  dabs  of  vegetables  everlastingly  served  in  small  bird  dishes.  They  want  complete 
quiet  and  darkness  at  night,  instead  of  rattling  hallways  heated  up  to  the  furnace  iMtdi  by  flar- 
ing gas-jets.  They  want  bed-rooms  without  glass  transoms  which  let  in  the  light  and  noise 
from  the  halls,  and  without  thin  and  ill-fitted  doors  which  connect  with  adjoining  rooms  and 
duly  report  the  movements,  the  talk  and  the  snoring  of  their  occupants.  Then  take  the  water 
supply.  There  is  no  greater  luxury  in  summer  than  abundance  of  water  and  convenience  for 
bathing  in  it.  Many  a  man  is  reconciled  to  a  summer  in  town  by  the  possession  of  a  bath  in  his 
house.  But  go  where  one  will  to  the  summer  hotels  all  over  the  country,  he  will  find  that  there 
are  no  bathing  arrangements  in  the  house,  except  one  or  two  bath-rooms,  probably  at  a  consider- 
able distance  from  his  room,  and  which  can  only  be  had  at  certain  times  and  by  previous  engiiga- 
ment.  Suck  a  simple  thing  as  th*  provision  of  a  tub  and  a  pail  qf  water  in  his  room,  at  a 
small  extra  charge  ^  is  probably  unhnowfl  throughout  the  country;  we  certainly  never  heard  of 
it  or  met  with  it,  and  yet  what  a  luxury  it  would  be.  How  many  hotel-keq>ers  are  there  to 
whom  one  could  mention  it  without  having  him  shake  his  head  over  it  as  visionary  or  iropracli- 
cable?  "  I  quote  this  for  the  sake  of  saying  that  every  landlord  who  owns  a  bath-room  should 
make  a  tender  of  it  to  the  touring  bicycler  as  soon  as  he  arrives ;  and  that  all  hotels  which  will 
agree  to  supply  every  such  tourist  with  a  portable  bath-tub  in  his  own  bed-room  deserve  to  have 
their  names  freely  advertised  in  the  League's  various  road-books  and  in  its  weekly  BuUetm. 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.* 

**  We  may  not  care  to  fight ;  but,  by  Jingo !  i/itt  do, 
We  've  got  the  votes  I  We  've  got  the  men !  We  've  got  the  money,  too  I  " 

The  Great  American  Hog  {Porcus  Americanus)  has  been  elsewhere  de- 
fined by  me  as  an  unfortunate  species  of  humanity  '*  in  whose  mind  the  mere 
act  of  purchasing  a  horse  creates  the  curious  hallucination  that  he  simulta- 
neously  purchases  an  exclusive  right  to  the  public  highways''  (p.  lo).  This 
singular  delusion  suffuses  the  soul  of  the  Hog,  in  spite  of  the  unanimous  ad- 
irerse  agreement  of  all  the  laws,  judges,  and  juries  in  Christendom,  that  who- 
ever ventures  upon  the  road  with  so  unruly  and  dangerous  a  beast  as  the 
horse  must  *'  stand  by  his  own  accidents."  There  is  no  civilized  country  in 
the  world  where  the  horseman  has  any  legal  right-of-way  superior  to  that  of 
the  footman  or  the  wheelman ;  and,  in  a  democratic  country  like  ours,  the 
final  source  of  all  authority  is  lodged  in  the  votes, — which  are  cast  not  by 
liorses  but  by  men.  Like  other  monomaniacs  who  are  bereft  of  any  sense  of 
natural  justice,  this  horse-owning  Hog  is  not  only  submissive  to  the  actual 
application  of  physical  force  but  he  is  cowed  in  advance  by  any  impressive 
display  of  it.  Hence,  though  an  individual  wheelman  who  suffers  damage 
from  him  on  the  road  can  always  be  sure  of  an  exemplary  verdict  when  he  drag^s 
the  Hog  into  a  law-court,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  as  well  as  of  economy,  for 
wheelmen  in  general  to  combine  for  his  intimidation  before  he  does  the 
damage.  The  success  thus  far  achieved  encourages  the  hope  that  in  the 
•course  of  a  decade  this  repulsive  type  of  animal  may  become  as  extinct  as  the 
dodo ;  and  the  credit  of  suppressing  it  will  then,  as  a  matter  of  history,  be- 
long in  large  measure  to  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen. 

Newport,  in  Rhode  Island,  was  the  birthplace  of  this  association ;  and  Monday,  May  31, 
1880,  iu  nau!  day.  The  initiative  must  be  accredited  to  Kirk  Munroe  (at  that  time  editor  of  Mar- 
ker's Young  People  and  President  of  the  New  York  Bicycle  Qub),  who  arranged  that  the  other 
«1ubs  should  join  with  his  own  in  making  a  public  display  of  their  wheelmanship,  and  who  in- 
vited the  nnatuched  also  to  take  part  in  the  pageant.  Two  dozen  of  them  did  in  fact  help  sus^ 
tam  this  "  firat  annual  parade  of  the  League,"  when  the  whole  number  of  bicycles  in  line  was 
133.  The  editor  of  the  Bi.  Worlds  who  was  also  the  President  of  the  Boston  Bicycle  Club  (Chaa. 
E.  Pratt,  whose  biog.  may  be  found  on  p.  $03),  in  alluding  to  the  assured  success  of  the  New 
Yorkers'  scheme  for  a  May  meet  at  Newport,  suggested  (A  IK,  March  so,  *8o,  p.  130)  that 
tfie  gathering  "  would  offer  a  suitable  occasion  for  organising  a  wheelmen's  protective  le^^ue, 
which  should  combine  the  best  points  of  the  '  B.  U.'  and  '  B.  T.  C  in  England  " ;  and,  by  the 


1  Revised  Oct.  3o,'86,  from  sketch  written  in  April  for  "  Wheelmen's  Reference  Book,"  pp. 
fS-tii  (Hartford,  Ct  :  Ducket  &  Goodman ;  aoopp. ;  49  lith.  portraits;  price  50  c.  and  $1). 


6i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

time  the  delegates  actually  assembled,  the  idea  had  gained  such  acceptance  among  them  that 
they  readily  adopted  the  brief  constitution  which  he  had  formulated,  and  elected  him  as  the 
first  President  under  it.  About  four  months  later,  Sept  i8,  at  New  York,  the  board  of  officers 
held  a  seven  hours'  session  to  perfect  their  organization,  by  the  adoption  of  rules  and  by-laws 
(printed  in  Bi.  Wvrldj  Oct.  2),  and  by  the  appointment  of  directors  to  fill  vacancies  in  the  list 
originally  chosen  at  Newport.  The  membership,  meanwhile,  had  increased  to  537;  and  a  sil- 
ver  badge  was  adopted  "  representing  the  continent  of  North  America  encircled  by  a  wheel 
siumouttted  by  a  handle>bar."  The  words,  "  League  of  American  Wheelmen,'*  hi  capital 
letters,  formed  a  circular  label  directly  around  "  the  Continent " ;  but  this  looked  so  much 
like  a  ham  that  the  badge  soon  came  to  be  spoken  of  as  the  ''  ham  and  cart-wheel,"  or  "  sugar- 
cured  medal.**  The  first  hand-book  exhibited  upon  its  cover  and  title-page  a  picture  of  this 
ill-fated  disc,  which  was  nearly  as  large  and  clumsy  as  a  silver  dollar,  "  though  the  original  idea 
was  to  have  it  much  larger,  and  with  the  initials,  L.  A.  W.,  engraved  upon  the  map  in  the  center. 
It  was  designed  by  A.  S.  Parsons  and  Jo.  Pennell.'*  So  said  the  Bi.  World  (Jan.  a8,  *8i,  p. 
x88),  in  presenting  a  picture  of  it,  with  the  remark  that  the  Treasurer  would  soon  be  able  to 
supply  members  with  badges,  at  the  rate  of  %z  for  silver-plated  and  $x  for  nickel-plated  speci- 
mens. Only  a  few  months  later  (at  the  officers*  meeting  of  Oct.  6,  *8i,  when  the  League's 
membership  was  reported  as  a  103,  an  increase  of  449  from  May  30),  this  "continental  ham  *' 
was  formally  superseded  by  the  more  artistic  and  less  obtrusive  emblem  which  has  since  con- 
tinued in  vogue,  without  serious  criticism  or  suggestion  of  improvement.  The  design  is  a  tiny 
suspenuon  wheel,  with  three  golden  wings  flying  from  the  center,  and  the  League's  three  initials 
resting  on  the  spokes  between  them.  The  "  hub  "  can  be  formed  of  any  precious  stone  that 
may  be  preferred.  The  inventor  and  manufacturer  of  the  badge  is  C.  H.  Lamson,  a  practical 
jeweler  iA  Portland,  one  of  the  pioneer  wheelmen  of  Maine  and  for  aome  time  Chief  Consul  for 
that  State.    The  "  C.  T.  C.,**  of  England,  adopted  a  close  copy  of  it,  in  Sept,  '86. 

At  the  second  annual  meeting  of  the  League  (Boston,  May  30,  *8i),  all  of  the  original  officera 
who  consented  to  serve  again  were  re-elected ;  and  such  little  opposition  as  appeared  was  quite 
good-natured.  A  salary  was  attached  to  the  office  of  Corresponding  Secretary.  The  reported 
membership  was  1654,  and  the  Bi.  WorltPs  list  of  61  clubs  which  am>eared  in  the  parade 
accredited  them  with  597  men,  besides  137  from  the  unattadied.  This  corresponds  with  the 
count  which  I  myself  made,  two  or  three  times,  of  "  about  750  **  in  the  procession,  though  the 
daily  papers  pretended  to  find  a  much  larger  number  there.  The  Star  bicycle  introduced  itself 
to  the  public  on  this  occasion,  and  the  few  tricycles  which  appeared  were  looked  upon  as  novel- 
ties. The  police  arrangements  were  entirely  inadequate  for  keeping  the  streets  dear,  but  no 
deaths  or  serious  disasters  resulted  from  the  nnmeroos  falls  caused  by  the  closing  in  of  the 
crowd.  "  The  grand  organ  pealed  forth  a  stirring  march,  as  the  bicyders  entered  Music  Hall, 
to  Uke  seaU  at  the  tables;  **  and,  later,  towards  the  dose  of  the  repast,  when  the  after-dinner 
speeches  were  attempted,  the  grand  army  of  waiters  "kept  up  such  incessant  rattle  and  con- 
fusion, in  dearing  the  dishes  away,  to  prepare  for  the  evening's  exhibition  of  dub-drill  and 
fancy-riding,  that  speaking  was  rendered  unpleasant  and  hearing  impossible.*'  Some  radng 
had  been  indulged  in  at  Beacon  Park,  May  a8,  chiefly  by  League  members;  but  "the  first 
tegular  annual  races  of  the  League  "  were  run  at  the  Polo  (Grounds,  New  York,  Oct  6  (a  few 
hoars  before  the  officers'  quarterly  meeting,  already  alluded  to),  and  were  truthfully  described 
as  "  the  dreariest  and  deadest  occasion  of  a  sporting  sort  which  the  most  gloomy-minded  cyder 
could  dream  of."  Spite  of  fine  weather,  only  about  jo  wheehnen  took  part  in  the  "  grand 
parade  "  and  only  about  aoo  other  spectators  attended  the  races.  Chicago  was  the  scene  of  the 
tWrd  annual  meet  (May  30,  '82),  when  the  editor  of  the  Bi.  JVcHd  recorded  that  "there  were 
only  294  men  in  the  procession,  by  actual  count,"  while  he  praised  th«  police  arrangemenU  for 
protecting  these,  as  offering  a  shining  contrast  to  their  inefficiency  at  Boston.  A  few  races 
served  as  a  side-show  on  the  previous  afternoon,  and  the  election  of  officers  was  not  completed 
until  late  at  night,  after  the  banquet  Considerable  ill-feeling  was  developed  by  a  dispute  about 
proxy  votes,  as  aflfecting  two  new  candidates  for  President,— the  original  incumbent  having  for- 
mally declined,  some  weeks  before,  to  stand  for  re-election.    The  candidate  of  the  Boston  B.  C^ 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      617 

WM  defeated  by  a  vote  of  307  to  156 ;  and  he  had  been  defeated  a  year  earlier,  324  to  196,  when 
ninning  for  the  office  of  "Commander,"  though  favored  on  that  occasion  by  the  majority  report 
of  the  nominating  committee.  This  last-named  office  was  abolished  by  the  convention  of  '8a, 
and  the  original  plan  of  "  two  directors  for  each  State,  elected  at  the  annual  meeting,"  was 
superseded  by  the  present  system  of  "  a  Chief  Consul  and  one  or  more  representatives  for  each 
State,  elected  by  a  mail-vote  in  March."  The  new  rules  and  a  full  report  of  the  proceedings 
were  printed  in  the  Bi.  World  of  June  x6.  The  accessions  of  new  members  during  this  second 
year  amounted  to  979  (of  whom  228  were  unattached,  and  751  represented  45  clubs) ;  and  the 
total  membership  was  vaguely  alluded  to  as  "  about  2500."  This  was  probably  an  overestimate, 
for  the  113  s  accessions  of  the  next  year  (727  admitted  as  club  members  at  50  c.  each,  and  the 
rest  at  %i  each,  though  only  223  of  the  latter  were  unattached)  brought  the  total  then  to  2131, 
representing  172  clubs.  Such  was  the  official  report  at  the  fourth  annual  meet  (New  York, 
May  a8,  '83),  inrfien  the  BL  World's  editor  again  "  made  an  accurate  count  of  the  riders  actually 
in  the  parade  and  found  it  to  be  723,  of  whom  91  were  unattached."  The  orderly  movement  of 
these  wheelmen  through  Central  Park,  by  special  permission,  gave  the  rulers  of  it  an  excuse  for 
taking  the  first  steps,  a  week  later,  to  relax  their  previous  prohibitory  policy ;  in  the  same  way 
that  the  parade  of  '82  resulted  in  the  removal  of  all  discriminations  against  the  use  of  the  park 
roads  by  the  cyclers  of  Chicago.    The  evening's  banquet  was  the  best  in  the  series  of  seven. 

At  the  end  of  its  third  year,  two-thirds  of  the  League's  members  (1413  out  of  2 131)  belonged 
to  these  five  adjoining  States,  Mass.,  N.  Y.,  Pa.,  O.,  and  Ct.,  and  the  geographical  distribution 
of  the  whole  list  was  as  follows  :  Me.,  20;  N.  H.,  59;  Vt.,  12  ;  Mass.,  518;  R.  I.,  31 ;  Ct., 
loi;  N.  Y.,360;  N.  J.,  74;  Pa.,  2x8;  Del.,  2;  Md.,  58;  D.  C,  7;  W.  Va.,  1;  (Va.);  N. 
C,  5;  S.  C,  8;  (Ga.,  Fla.,  Ala.,  Miss.);  La.,  x;  (Tex.,  Ark.);  Tenn.,  i;  Ky.,  29;  O.,  2x6; 
-Mich.,  42;  Ind.,  3;  111.,  95;  Mo.,  55;  la.,  4;  Wis.,  55;  Minn.,  6;  (Dak.);  Neb.,  X3  ;  (Kan., 
Ind.  Ter.,  N.  Mex.);  Col.,  a;  Wy.,  10;  Mon.,  5;  (Id.,  Wash.,  Or.,  Utah,  Nev.);  Ariz.,  i; 
Cal.,  16;  Ontario,  23;  Quebec,  43 ;  Nova  Scotia,  4;  England,  ix ;  Belgium,  x;  Germany,  t. 
(The  parenthesis  designates  16  States  and  Territories  not  then  represented  in  the  League.)  The 
President  and  Vice-President  both  declined  re-elections,  but  the  former  finally  consented  to  take 
the  vice-presidency.  The  votes  were  cast  by  the  official  board,  instead  of  by  the  members  at 
huge,  as  on  the  three  previous  elections,  and  there  were  no  rival  candidates  or  disputed  opinions 
of  any  sort ;  but  the  Corresponding  Secretary  was  afterwards  suspended  (Feb.  8,  '84),  and  his 
duties  were  transferred  to  the  Treasurer  for  the  rest  of  the  official  year,  because  of  a  protest 
raised  against  him  by  the  Springfield  B.  C,  on  account  of  a  letter  which  he  had  printed  {BL 
Worlds  Dec.  ax,  '83,  p.  76),  reflecting  on  the  honesty  of  that  club.  At  the  officers'  meeting  of 
Feb.  22,  the  membership  committee  sustained  the  protest  and  expelled  him  from  the  League ; 
but  the  verdict  did  not  meet  with  general  approval,  and  he  was  ultimately  re-admitted  as  a  mem> 
ber.  The  report  of  his  official  term  showed  that  2351  new  members  had  joined  during  the  eight 
months,  and  that  1247  of  the  2x31  who  were  on  the  roll  in  May  had  continued  their  membership 
(844  dropping  out),  making  a  toUl  of  3598.  A  few  months  later,  on  the  occasion  of  the  fifth 
annual  meet  (Washington,  May  19,  '84),  the  total  membership  was  announced  as  4250 ;  and  the 
BL  World nporttr  "counted  just  600  in  the  parade,  including  72  of  the  unattached  and  a  dozen 
tricyders."  His  count  at  the  sixth  parade  (Buffalo,  July  3,  '85)  was  605,  though  this  was  taken 
after  30  had  dropped  out  of  line.  The  official  reports  showed  the  accessions  of  new  members  as 
3742,  and  the  treasury  balance  as  I998.  All  the  old  board  of  officers  who  consented  to  serve 
were  harmoniously  re-elected,  as  had  been  the  case  a  year  eariier,  when  trouble  and  dissension 
were  predicted,  and  as  was  the  case  a  year  later  (Boston,  May  28,  '86).  Just  before  this  seventh 
election,  I  wrote  for  the  WAeelmeM*s  Gasetie  a  four-column  protest  (May  5,  pp.  33-34)  against 
"rotating"  the  League  presidency,— repeating  there  the  argument  of  my  short  articles  of  '82 
and  '83,  that  executive  officers  ought  to  be  kept  in  service  as  long  as  possible.  Assuming  that 
the  President  would  not  consent  to  stand  for  another  re-election,  I  expressed  regret  that  the 
influential  clubs  had  not  taken  formal  action  to  ensure  such  consent ;  and  I  expressed  the  hope 
that  his  unknown  successor  would  be  retained  for  many  terms  and  be  freed  from  all  fear  of 
*'  rotation."    As  the  President  did  in  fact  accept  a  fourth  term,  and  as  he  is  not  an  acquaintance 


6i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

of  mine,  I  cannot  be  accused  of  any  personal  motive  in  now  applying  to  him  the  same  hope. 
My  GaattU  article  shows  why  the  number  of  really  desirable  men  who  can  afford  to  take  the 
presidency  must  always  be  small ;  and  I  wish  its  facts  and  logic  might  be  considered  by  such 
writers  as  are  accustomed  to  print  gossip  about  possible  "  candidates  *'  for  the  place,  in  advance 
of  the  appearance  of  any  signs  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  holder  of  it  Space  forbids  my  quot- 
ing more  than  the  following  :  "I  believethat  no  chaige  of  incompetency  or  neglect  of  duty  has 
yet  been  raised  against  any  executive  officer ;  and  I  think  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  hi|^ 
average  of  personal  and  official  character  in  the  men  chosen,  and  the  absence  of  a  spirit  of 
political  scheming  for  '  rotating  *  them  out  of  office,  have  both  helped  greatly  to  build  up  the 
reputation  of  the  League.  It  will  be  a  bad  thing  for  it  if  prevalence  is  ever  given  to  '  HaVs ' 
idea,  that  the  offices  are  a  sort  of  baubles,  which  ought  to  be  portioned  out  geographically  for  the 
soothing  of  sectional  pride,  as  playthings  are  divided  equally  among  children." 

The  seventh  annual  parade,  according  to  detailed  statement  in  BulUim  (June  4,  '86,  p.  511), 
attracted  824  riders,  of  whom  hardly  half  belonged  outside  Mass.,  and  only  200  outside  New  Eng.; 
but  by  other  accounts  the  number  really  riding  was  considerably  smaller  {Globus  said  653,  ind. 
50  tri's).  The  Secretary's  report  showed  the  membership  on  May  28,^86,  to  be  8463,  an  increase 
of  nearly  64  per  cent  from  Dec.  31,  when  it  stood  at  51761  Of  the  latter,  a  very  large  propor- 
tion (4379)  paid  their  renewal  fees;  hence,  the  new  members  of  the  five  months  numbered 
4084, — the  largest  weel.  7  accession  being  318,  for  the  week  ending  May  15.  During  the  sum- 
mer, 1213  new  men  joined,  so  that  on  Sept  1  the  Secretary  was  able  to  report  a  total  of  9676, — 
more  than  three-fourths  of  whom  (7315)  were  accredited  to  these  7  states :  N.  Y.,  Mass.,  Pa., 
N.  J.,  O.,  Ct  and  111.,  i^med  in  the  order  of  their  membership.  The  geographical  distribution 
of  the  entire  9676,  and  of  the  5176  who  formed  the  League's  membership  just  8  months  earlier, 
4re  shown  by  the  following  pairs  of  numerals :  Me.,  199,  63;  N.  H.,  143,  8a;  Vt,  100,  58; 
Mass.,  1418,  591;  R.  I.,  i33i  30;  Ct,  571,  355;  N.  Y.,  1655,  1028;  N.  J.,  918,  493 ;  Pa.,  1411, 
839;  Del,  24,  4;  Md.,  199,  88;  D.  C,  59,  49;  W.  Ya.,  46,  21;  Ya.,  54,  5;  N.  C,  11,  9;  S. 
C,  I,  3 ;  Ga.,  27,  I ;  Fla.,  9,  o;  Ala.,  13,  i ;  Miss.,  3,  o;  I-a.,  59,  26;  Tex.,  14,  3 ;  Ark.,  4, 
o ;  Tenn.,  67,  6 ;  Ky.,  79,  4^  ;  O.,  809,  582  ;  Mich.,  218,  77;  Ind.,  185,  75 ;  111.,  433,  283  ;  Mo., 
936,94;  la.,  110,67;  Wis.,  30,  17;  Minn.,  105,67;  Dak.j  8,4;  Neb.,  67,  15;  Kan.,  70,  7; 
Ind.  Ten,  o ;  N.  Mex.,  o,  i ;  Col.,  46,  28 ;  Wy.,  49,  33 ;  Mon.,  3,  2  ;  Id.,  20,  o ;  Wash.,  o ;  Or., 
3,0;  Utah,  10,  6;  Nev.,  o;  Ariz.,  o;  Cal.,  148,  13;  Ontario,  7,  5;  Nova  Scotia,  4,  2;  Ber- 
muda, I,  o;  England,  2,  o;  Germany,  1,1.  This  shows  only  5  States  and  Territories  having 
no  League  members,  as  compared  with  16  unrepresented  three  years  earlier,  when  the  total  was 
2131.  My  statistics  are  from  tables  in  the  BuUttm  of  June  11  and  Sept  17,  '86,  pp.  533,  297 ; 
and  the  editor  thereof  took  a  natural  pride  in  proclaiming,  Oct  29,  that  the  membership  had 
**  grown  to  five  figures  "  (10,175),  and  the  Builetm^s  regular  edition  to  10,85a 

The  record  of  the  first  convention  shows  that,  "  on  motion  of  Mr.  Longstreth,  of  Philadel- 
phia, it  was  unanimously  voted  that  the  Bi,  IVorld  be  made  the  official  organ  of  this  League." 
This  was  then  the  only  American  cycling  journal,  having  but  lately  begun  as  a  fortnightly,  Nov. 
i5>  *79«  At  $2.50.  A  year  later,  it  became  a  weekly,  at  #3,  and  has  so  continued  ever  since,  ex- 
cept that  the  price  was  reduced  to  $2,  on  May  13,  '81,  and  to  $r,  on  June  4,  '86.  The  conven- 
tions of  '81  and  '82  perfunctorily  repeated  the  unanimous  vote  of  '80,  retaining  the  paper  as 
"  League  organ  " ;  and  a  friend  of  its  publisher,  in  nominating  him  for  the  presidency  at 
Chicago,  alluded  to  it,  "  as  a  journal  which  has  the  honor  of  diminishing  his  yearly  income  very 
considerably,"  in  proof  of  his  enthusiasm  for  advancing  the  interests  of  bicycling.  The  three 
successive  annual  appointments,  which  no  one  thought  of  opposing  or  disapproving,  were  simply 
hap-hazard  votes  of  thanks  and  recommendation.  They  had  no  other  practical  value  than  that 
of  formally  advertising  the  paper  as  worthy  the  individual  patronage  of  League  members  and 
of  wheelmen  in  general.  Its  publishers  received  no  subsidy,  nor  did  they  make  any  definite 
agreement  as  to  the  amount  of  space  they  would  give  to  advertising  the  League  in  return.  In 
fact,  however,  the  names  of  applicants  for  membership,  official  notices,  reports  of  meetings  and 
the  like,  were  all  printed,  in  attractive  and  readable  shape ;  and  I  am  not  aware  than  any  serioos 
objection  was  ever  urged  against  the  B.  fV.  for  bulure  to  fulfill  all  the  functions  of  an  "  organ." 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN,      619 

Meanwhile,  the  IVktelt  a  smaller  and  cheaper  paper,  had  beoome  established  at  New  York, 
beginning  a  weekly  issue  at  f  i.S0|  **  as  the  official  organ  of  the  (English)  B.  T.  C.  in  America,*' 
Oct.  4,  *83,— after  two  years'  existence  as  a  |z  fortnightly  (Sept  as,  '80,  to  Sept.  13,  '83 ;  ex- 
cept that  its  price  was  $1.35  until  July  6,  '81,  and  its  **  oiganship  "  began  June  7,  '8a).  The  pub- 
lishers of  this  came  before  the  convention  of  '83  with  an  offer  to  mail  it  to  each  member  of  the 
League  at  50  c.  (one^hird  the  regular  rate),  provided  it  were  recognized  as  the  official  organ, 
and  provided  the  payments  were  made  monthly  by  the  League's  Treasurer.  This  scheme  was 
adopted  by  a  vote  of  368  to  360,  its  most  active  advocate  being  the  first  President  of  the  League 
and  first  editor  of  the  BL  iVarld^  whose  name  had  been  printed  as  "  editorial  contributor  "  to 
the  first  31  weekly  issues  of  the  lf^A#r/,— ending  May  4,  '83.  The  Corresponding  Secretary, 
who  was  chosen  by  the  same  convention  which  adopted  the  Wh^l  as  organ,  had  been  editor  of 
it  from  the  start,  and  was  one  of  the  firm  which  published  it  No  censure  was  ever  pronounced 
upon  him,  that  I  am  aware  of,  for  failing  to  do  his  duty  as  secretary  and  editor  (the  increase  in 
League  membership  being  greater  during  his  year  than  ever  before) ;  and  the  cry  which  was 
raised  against  him  by  those  who  professed  to  think  that  his  contract  with  the  League,  as  pub- 
lisher, had  proved  too  profitable,  seemed  to  me  quite  childish  and  unjust.  His  suspension  from 
office,  and  subsequent  expulsion  from  membership,  was  the  result  of  the  Springfield  B.  C's 
protest  against  the  harsh  language  he  had  applied  to  it  in  his  private  capacity,  and  had  no  avowed 
relation  to  his  conduct  as  secretary  or  editor  or  his  profits  as  a  publisher ;  but,  on  the  same  day 
with  the  expulsion  (Feb.  33,  '84),  a  omnmittee  was  appointed  to  "  obtain  proposals  and  estimates 
from  such  parties  as  might  offer  to  provide  a  League  organ  at  a  cost  not  exceeding  35  c  a  year 
for  each  member,"  and  also  to  "consider  the  advisability  of  the  League  conducting  its  own 
organ,"  after  the  expiration  of  the  contraa  with  the  IVhul. 

The  committee  reported  ( Washmgton,  May  19)  against  the  League's  attempting  to  publish 
its  own  paper,  because,  as  it  would  not  be  transmissible  at  second-class  mail-rates,  the  need  of 
paying  a  cent  a  copy  for  postage  would  alone  absorb  half  the  sum  allowed,  even  though  the 
issue  were  made  monthly ;  and  "  the  condition  of  the  treasury  and  estimated  receipts  "  f^bade 
the  indulgence  in  any  such  scheme.  They  also  reported  (1)  that  the  iVkttl  offered  to  add  a 
large  4  p.  supplement  to  the  first  weekly  issue  of  each  month,  and  to  mail  both  to  every  League 
member  for  30  c.  a  year  (or  10  c  to  those  whose  membership  began  after  Dec.  1) ;  (3)  that  the 
BL  World  offered  to  give  the  League  4  pp.  in  the  first  weekly  issue  of  each  month,  and  mail 
those  13  issues  to  each  League  member,  also  to  print  the  names  of  applicants  every  week  and 
mail  to  each  one  the  paper  containing  his  name,— the  League  paying  a  c  f or  each  paper  thus 
supplied ;  (3)  that  the  Springfield  IVk*elnum*9  GamtU,  just  then  re-established  as  a  monthly, 
offered  to  "  give  the  League  all  the  space  needed  for  its  official  business,"  and  tb  mail  a  copy  to 
every  member  during  the  term  of  contract,--the  League  to  make  monthly  paymenu  of  a  c.  for 
each  paper  thus  mailed ;  and  (4)  that  the  AmaUttr  AtkUU  offered  to  mail  a  weekly  supplement 
to  each  League  member  at  five-thirteenths  of  a  cent  a  copy  (30  c  a  year) ;  or  to  mail  a  monthly 
supplement  to  each  at  five-sixths  of  a  cent  a  copy  (10  c.  a  year) ;  or  to  mail  the  complete  paper 
weekly  to  each  for  50  c  a  year  Cts  regular  rate  to  non-members  being  fa),  and  give  all  needed 
space  for  League  announcements.  Behind  each  one  of  these  four  journals'  proposals  was  the 
understanding  that  the  League's  Corresponding  Secretary  or  other  official  represenutive  shouU 
prepare  and  edit  for  the  printer  all  the  League  matefial,— the  editors  of  the  several  papers  having 
no  responsibility  for  it,  and  keeping  their  own  work  quite  distinct,  by  appropriate  typographical 
devices.  In  spite  of  the  committee's  adverse  report,  the  convention  of  '84  adopted  a  series  of 
resolutions  (proposed  by  A.  H.  MacOwen,  and  warmly  supported  by  £.  M.  Aaron,  both  of 
Philadelphia)  to  the  effea  that  the  League  should  thenceforth  issue  its  own  organ,— the  Record- 
ing Secretary  serving  as  editor,  without  pay,  and  the  other  four  executive  oflicers  forming  with 
him  a  board  of  publication. 

This  plan,  which  seems  to  have  contemplated  a  monthly  issue,  was  quickly  wredced  on  the 
rock  of  which  the  committee  had  given  warning  :  the  posul  law  which  refuses  to  register  soch 
a  sheet  for  cheap  transmission  as  "  second<Iass  mail-matter."  The  Executive  Board  bemg  thus 
fovoed  to  continue  the  "oigan  "  as  a  fixture  to  some  existmg  joanal  having  this  privil^e  of 


620  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

registry,  accepted  the  first-oaned  offer  of  the  Ammtmr  AthbU^  and  receiired  modi  hoatik 
criticism  in  consequence.  My  opinion  is  that  most  recipients  of  the  badly>printed  8  p.  sheet 
which  came  to  them  each  week,  in  consequence  of  this  contract,  felt  almost  a&onted  whenerer 
reminded  by  its  staring  sub-title  that  it  was  really  "  the  official  gazette  of  the  League.''  The 
acceptance  of  either  one  of  the  other  three  offers  would  have  insured  an  *'  organ  "  of  far  supe- 
rior typographic  appearance ;  and  I  think  they  deserved  acceptance  in  the  order  named.  In 
either  case,  the  monthly  reception  by  each  League  member  of  an  interesting  newspaper,  enclos- 
ing his  ofiicial  gazette,  must  have  been  far  more  satisfeictory  than  the  weekly  arrival  of  this 
blotchy  collection  of  black-letter  advertisements,  whidi  was  habitually  hurled  unopened  into 
the  waste-basket  by  many  disgusted  redpienta.  The  utmost  efforts  of  the  hardworking  "  pro- 
fessional "  editor  in  Philadelphia  were  unable  to  make  the  sheet  rise  superior  to  the  trammels 
imposed  by  its  "  amateur  "  printing  contractors  in  New  York.  I  do  not  say  that  any  particular 
blame  attached  to  them,  for  they  offered  a  cheap  job  and  prc^Mibly  loat  money  on  it.  The  mis- 
take was  rather  in  the  Executive  Board's  assuming  that  their  "  quarter-dollar  allowance  "  stood 
a  chance  of  giving  abetter  return  from  investment  in  a  wild^cat  weekly  experiment  than  from  the 
monthly  patronage  of  a  well-printed  joumad,  whose  established  diaracter  gave  assurance  of  a  re- 
spectable result.  Whatever  error  of  judgment  was  committed,  however,  was  paid  for  most 
heavily  by  those  triio  were  chiefly  responsible  for  it ;  and  I  presume  that  no  one  else  in  the  League 
"  hated  the  sight  of  the  official  gazette ''  so  thoroughly  as  the  Recording  Secretary  whose  duty  it 
was  to  supply  the  material  for  the  printers,  and  whose  ambition  it  was  to  produce  a  creditable 
paper.  With  the  long-hoped-for  "  expiration  of  the  amateur  printing  contract,"  a  chance  was 
given  him  to  gratify  his  ideal  by  an  order  from  the  President  that  he  issue  a  specimen  copy  of 
what  such  a  gazettj:  pught  to  be. 

Hence  originated  the  first  number  of  "  the  L.  A.  W.  BtUhtimy  a  journal  devoted  to  the 
interests  of  cycling  in  America;  published  weekly  at  $i  a  year,  or  3  c.  a  copy,  by  Eugene  M. 
Aaron,  for  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen,  at  the  L.  A.  W. 
office,  506  Walnut  St.,  Philadelphia ;  printed  by  E.  Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,  321  Chestnut  St.,  and 
entered  at  the  post  office  as  second-class  matter."  The  convention  at  Buffalo  adopted  this  oa 
rtie  day  of  its  date  O^ly  Si  '8s),  and  it  has  appeared  every  week  since  then, — 1]%  first  9  issues 
dated  Thursday,  the  later  ones  Friday, — ^in  spite  of  the  fears  expressed  by  many  well-wishers  of 
the  scheme  that  the  League  could  not  afford  to  supply  its  members  with  so  handsome  and  ex- 
pensive a  print.  A  title-page  and  index  to  the  416  pp.  of  the  ist  vol.  accompanied  the  26th 
number  (Dec  25,  '85) ;  and  the  report  of  the  Secretary-Editor  to  the  officers'  meeting  of  two 
months  later  seemed  to  show  that  the  journal  was  in  a  fair  way  of  reaching  a  permanent  finan- 
dal  basis  of  self-support  Its  ad  vol.  (Jan.  i,  to  June  25,'86)  had  624  pp.  and  was  indexed  even 
more  thoroughly  than  the  first.  Tabular  statements  of  the  recdpts  and  expenses  for  14  iims. 
were  printed  June  11  and  Sept  17  (pp.  534,  219),  in  the  reports  of  the  officers'  meetings,  and 
showed  an  adual  profit  for  a  mos. :  $37'in  Aug.,  '85,  and  $130  in  May,  *86.  The  first  44  issues 
of  the  BnUetim  (285,075  copies)  cost  the  League  1 1245,  or  less  than  half  as  much  as  its  '*  ama- 
teur organ  "  of  the  previous  year,  though  the  812  pp.  of  those  issues  contained  a  much  greater 
amount  of  letterpress,— the  official  matter  alone  covering  143  pp.  The  next  ty  BuRetmsy  May 
to  Aug.,  ^86  (160,650  copies;  460  pp.),  cost  $590,  "or  at  the  rate  of  less  than  19  c.  a  year  for 
each  League  member, — showing  the  remarkable  cheapness  of  thus  publishing  a  superior  weekly 
paper  on  the  co-operative  plan."  The  net  adv.  receipts  for  14  mos.  were  $10,445,  and  the 
printing  expenses  $12,280.  One-third  the  League's  income  from  membership-fees  during  the 
year  ending  with  May,  '86,  was  spent  in  procuring  and  printing  verbatim  reports  of  all  the  talk 
at  the  officers'  meetings ;  and  the  Secretary-Editor  suggests  that  money  be  saved  hereafter  by 
restricting  the  reports  of  sndi  meetings  to  things  actually  done.  During  the  first  year,  he  rdied 
upon  volunteers  for  suppljring  the  Buttttm  with  "  news  " ;  but  regular  correspondents  have 
dnce  been  employed  at  the  chief  cycling  centers  to  furnish  it,  and  carefully-compiled  reports  of 
'*  famous  riding  districts  "  have  regularly  appeared  upon  the  paper's  second  page.  The  need 
of  giving  precedence  to  **  offidal  matter  "  limits  the  editor's  diance  for  attracting  a  variety  of 
contributions,  because  the  probability  of  dekiy  dampens  the  ardor  of  volunteer  writen ;  bat  he 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      621 

hM  MMeecded,  nevertlMlaH,  in  making  a  very  readable  journal,  and  in  proving  that  the  other 
papers  were  wroi«  when  they  predicted  that  his  estimates  oi  the  adv.  patroni^  requisite  for 
supporting  it  would  never  be  realised.  His  report  of  Sept  i  says  that  the  adv.  pp.  average  i8» 
or  thrice  as  many  as  first  hoped  for,  and  that  the  rates  have  not  been  raised,  though  the  drcu- 
htion  hsM  increased  from  5000  to  xo,soo.  I  should  thbk  that  an  advance  of  50  or  100  per  cent, 
saight  well  be  made  in  adv.  rates ;  and  I  urge  the  policy  of  inviting  quaAer-year  subscriptions 
to  the  BtUUtiHt  for  I  believe  that  nearly  every  reader  thus  secured  will  be  persuaded  to  join  the 
League.  Criticisms  of  the  paper  and  its  editor  may  be  fairly  assumed  as  based  on  business  or 
personal  rivalry,  unless  their  writers'  sincerity  be  shown  by  the  dearest  proof.  There  is  an 
overwhelming  presumption  that  the  man  who  originated  the  BulUim,  and  brought  it  to  its  pres- 
ent plane  of  success,  in  the  face  ol  general  scepticism  and  oppootiony  will  take  more  pride  in 
poshing  it  higher  than  any  one  else  could  take ;  and  the  first  principles  of  justice  forbid  that  he 
shookl  be  superseded  in  office  for  anything  less  than  demonstrated  incompetency.  Mistakes 
must  be  made,  and  enemies  must  be  made,  by  every  holder  of  such  a  place ;  but  good  business' 
policy  nevertheless  demands  that  the  Secretary>Edator  should  be  a  fixture,  even  more  than  the 
President.  The  oiicers'  debate,  in  advance  of  their  vote  which  practically  made  him  so,  may 
be  found  in  the  BtUkitM  of  Mar.  19,  p.  a46 ;  while  as  regards  their  policy  of  excluding  from 
the  paperall  discnssions  ol  rival  madiinrs,  the  aignments  for  and  against,  as  presented  at  the 
Btt£blo  meeting,  cover  p.  904  of  the  issue  of  Sept.  17. 

I  consider  the  act  of  Joining  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen  one  of  the  very  first  duties 
iriiich  every  cyder  in  this  country  owes  to  his  fellows ;  but  I  think  that  the  oonsideratwns  which 
can  be  effectively  used  for  the  attraction  of  desirable  memben  may  be  reduced  to  two.  First, 
and  incomparably  the  strongest,  is  the  aignment  of  sentiment  and  sympathy,>~the  gratification 
of  the  sense  of  partnership  and  power  by  the  mera  act  of  stamding  up  and  being  counted,— Hhe 
ability,  in  short,  to  feel  that  one  plays  a  personal  part  in  swelling  the  chorus  which  I  have  quoted 
at  the  head  of  this  sketch  for  the  possible  enl^tenment  of  the  Great  American  Hog.  As  Presi- 
dent Bates  says,  "  the  organisation  is  more  vahiaUe  because  of  the  poKdcal  power  it  possesys, 
and  may  wield  when  necessary,  than  for  any  other  of  its  qualities  " ;  and  no  one  will  pretend 
that  such  a  veteran  journalist  can  have  worked  a  quarter-century  in  a  aew^M^ier  office  without 
attaining  some  degree  of  shrewdness  as  a  politician.  I  quote  the  phrase  from  his  article  in  the 
Hnkttlmam  (May,  '83,  pp.  98-100),  descriptive  of  the  manner  in  which  an  Ohio  legislator  named 
Green  made  a  bid  for  the  ballots  of  the  Hog,  by  proposing  an  enactment  for  the  suppression  of 
bicycling  in  that  State ;  and  of  the  manner  in  which  his  verdant  little  boom  was  obUtented  when 
tile  League  formally  showed  its  hand  before  the  Iq^isbtive  committee.  That  hand  held  alto- 
gether too  many  votera  to  be  laughed  out  of  court  The  committee  saw  dearly  that  the  inflie* 
tion  of  injustice  upon  them,  for  the  sake  of  currying  favor  vrith  the  Hog,  would  be  bad  politics. 
The  final  words  of  the  artide  are  these  :  **  The  fact  that  we  possess  p<riitical  power  is  our  shield  | 
the  fact  that  we  ara  ready  to  use  it  when  attacked  will  double  the  strsngth  ol  our  shield.  We 
treqMus  upon  the  rights  of  no  man ;  let  ns  make  it  plainly  understood  that  no  man  will  be  per* 
mitted  to  trespass  upon  our  rights  with  impunity.  I  say  again  that  the  latent  political  power  ol 
the  L.  A.  W.  is  its  most  valuable  quality,  and  is  alone  worth  much  mora  than  its  cost."  The 
second  and  final  argument  which  can  be  effectively  employed  for  attracting  recruits  to  the 
League— such  recruits  as  insist  on  having  a  direct  and  tangible  return  for  their  money— is  the 
fact  that  no  other  weekly  cycling  journal,  of  as  mudi  merit  and  attractiveness  as  the  BmUeimf  is 
to  be  purchased  except  at  a  price  aboot  equal  to  the  entire  cost  of  membership ;  and  that  most  of 
the  official  road-books  are  supplied  only  to  League  members,  and  are  generally  supplied  witlw 
out  charge  to  memben  of  those  Divisions  iHiidi  publish  them.  I  am  sure  that  it  is  a  waste  of 
time  to  rehearse  the  lesser  arguments  and  advant^es.  Men  who  cannot  be  converted  by  the 
two  pri'ndpal  ones,  are  not  worth  having  at  all.  The  cycler  wtno  takes  no  pleasure  in  contribute 
ing  his  personal  mite  to  increase  the  "  solidarity  "  of  cyding— in  hdping  perfect  a  system  which 
shall  eonvinee  the  horse-owning  Hog  that  whenever  his  cloven  hoof  is  shown  for  the  trampling 
down  of  vi^ieelmen's  rights  in  the  backwoods  of  Maine,  its  appearanoe  there  will  make  enemies 
for  him  clear  neross  to  the  eoaal  of  California,— is  a  cyder  not  spedally  wanted  by  the  brother- 


622  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

iMod ;  but  the  one  who  docs  n't  even  care  enough  about  the  hueinni  to  read  a  lepreaeBtativc 
newspaper,  or  to  supply  hiinaeli  with  rahiable  inf onnatioo  about  the  roads,  had  best  be  left  out- 
side the  League  entirely. 

As  defined  in  its  oflkial  hand^iook,  *'  The  League  of  American  Wheehnen  is  an  ofganisa- 
tioo  to  profnote  the  general  inierests  of  cyding ;  to  ascertain,  defend,  and  protect  the  rights  el 
wheelmen  (whidi  axe  those  of  any  driTer  of  hmse  and  wagon),  to  encourage  and  f^rt]»tntt>  tcrar* 
ing,  and  to  regulate  the  goremment  of  all  amateur  qxnts  connected  with  the  use  of  the  wheeL 
As  a  national  organisation,  it  is  chiefly  composed  of  State  Divisions,  whidi  bear  rdations  to  it 
very  similar  to  those  between  State  and  Nation  in  the  political  world.  The  States  not  yet 
possessed  of  sufficient  memberdiip  (25)  to  organise  a  separate  Divisiim  are  governed  directly 
from  headquarters,  as  are  the  UrritorUt  by  the  nation,  politically  consdered.  It  »  matter  of 
experience  that  ideal  efficiency  is  onlyieached  when  a  rider  belongs  to  a  dob,  the  dub  to  a  well- 
osganised  State  Division,  and  the  State  Division  to  the  national  body,  with  well  paid  and  centrali> 
ixed  machinery  of  business  and  inforaatiim."  The  mode  of  government  adopted  may  be  shvwa 
by  the  following  extracts  from  the  League's  organic  law :  "  Its  officers  shall  be  a  President,  a 
Vice-President,  a  Secretary-Editor,  a  Treasurer,  Chief  Consuls  (one  from  each  State),  and 
RejMieseotatives  (eadi  State  being  entitled  to  one  Representative  for  every  so  members);  and 
these  officers  shall  form  a  Board  of  Officers,  of  whom  15  shall  constitute  a  quorum,  who  shall 
direct  and  dedde  in  all  matters  not  provided  for  in  this  Constitution,  and  shall  have  power  to  fiO 
vacandes.  The  President,  the  Vioe-Preadent,  and  one  other  member  of  the  Board  of  Officers 
annually  diosen  by  the  board,  shall  fbnn  an  Executive  Committee,  to  whom  shall  be  referred  aU 
matters  relating  to  revenue  and  disbursements  and  League  funds,  and  all  routine  buriness  not 
otherwise  disposed  of ;  and  sodi  committee  shall  report  to  the  board  at  eadi  regular  meeting. 
Each  State  in  which  there  are  35  or  more  members  may  organise  a  State  Division,  with  a  code 
of  by-laws,  in  keeping  with  this  Constitution,  and  governed  by  an  Executive  Board  oompriaac 
the  Chief  Consul  and  Reps. ,  together  with  the  Secretary-Treasurer.  The  latter  may  be  chosen  at 
large  by  a  vote  of  the  Division,  and  it  shall  hold  at  least  one  meedng  each  year  for  that  purpoae. 

"All  officers  shall  hold  office  until  their  successors  am  elected  or  appointed ;  but  the  Secre> 
tary-Editor  shall  hold  office  during  good-behavior  or  until  death  or  hu  resignation  shall  cause 
his  removal.  (The  Board  of  Officers  may,  however,  by  a  vote  of  two4hirds  of  the  members  and 
proxies  present,  after  one  month's  notice  has  been  given,  declare  his  office  vacant,  and  order  a 
new  election.)  He  shall  receive  a  salary  of  f  1500  per  annum,  and  shall  be  allowed  to  draw  from 
the  treasury  such  part  of  $2000  as  may  be  necessary  for  the  support  of  his  office ;  and  from  this 
sum  he  shall  pay  all  assistants  whom  it  may  be  necessary  for  him  to  employ,  but  he  shall  be 
reimbursed  for  his  stationery  and  post^je  expenses.  He  shall  give  bonds  for  the  faithful  dis- 
diarge  of  his  duties  in  the  sum  of  $3000,  and  the  bond  must  be  acceptable  to  the  Executive 
Committee ;  he  shall  at  all  times  be  under  the  control  of  the  Executive  Committee ;  he  may  be 
suspended  by  them  to  await  the  action  of  the  board ;  he  shall  report  to  the  Board  of  Officers  at 
their  meetings,  and  once  every  three  months  he  shall  publish  in  the  official  organ  a  report  of  the 
general  status  of  the  League."  The  rules  as  to  his  salary  and  offidal  permanency  were  adapted 
Feb.  as,  '86.  The  previous  rules  required  his  annual  election,  the  same  as  the  other  cheers ; 
and  the  rule  adopted  Feb.  aj,  '85,  said  :  "  He  shall  receive  a  salary  ef  ^j.33  per  month,  and 
shall  be  reimbursed  for  his  stationery,  postage  and  kindred  expenses."  The  first  salary  voted 
to  any  League  officer  was  ^50  a  year  for  the  (Corresponding  Secretary,  May  30,  '81 ;  and  the 
same  was  afterwards  given  to  the  Recording  Secretary,  Feb.  a3,  '8$.  When  both  secretaryships 
were  consolidated,  and  combined  with  the  editorship,  June  i,  '85,  the  salary  which  had  been 
raised  to  $1000  by  rule  of  Feb.  33/85,  on  condition  of  such  consolidation,  really  began  to  be  paid. 

Of  the  half<^osen  standing  committees,  appointed  by  the  President,  for  a  year's  service,  end- 
ing with  the  annual  meeting,  those  on  "membership,"  "rules  and  r^ulations"  and^"ri^ts 
and  privileges  "  must  consist  of  3  men  each,  who  must  be  taken  from  the  Board  of  Officers; 
while  the  committees  on  "  transporution,'*  "  radng,"  and  "  touring  "  may  be  taken  from  the 
membership  in  general,  and  the  two  former  may  each  have  6  men.  The  last-named  committee 
is  the  youngest  of  all,  haying  been  established  by  vote  of  Feb.  as,  '86,  which  says  it  "  shall  be 


THE  LEAGUE  Of  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN. 


n  of  IhE  Boanl  of  Olficcn  by  election,  (hi!!  be- 
■hLchinthoopinkmofUiB 
ErtcudTC  ConinutUfi  wem  made  \jot  [he  gDod  oi  the  depBjtmeDl  UDder  his  charge." 

'^Then  iha]]  be  xa  uiaual  husineu  meeting  of  the  League  u  tuch  iLme  eul  luch  placs  u 
the  Doaid  of  OIBcera  aur  dctenaine  at  ■  mKtinE  to  be  held  at  Icau  i  mos.  previaui  la  the  ijth 
day  of  Uay,  and  of  wbjchgenenjineeiiiig  tlleuioDc  manlh'a  public  notice  fthall  bo  giveo.  At 
thjs  meeting,  each  member  present  ihall  bavB  one  vote  on  any  qHcuioni  and  JO  memben  ahall 
OHHtilutaaquDniin.  Two  meetings  of  the  Board  of  OSccn  shall  be  held  each  year,  one  at  kait 
1  moi,,  and  not  mure  than  4  moi.,  previoiu  la  Uiy  ijib,  and  one  in  the  fall,  subject  la  Ibe  00 
of  th:  Preudenl.     The  Pmident  and  Secrellly  may,  at  any  time,  lubmit  any  mailer  a(  busi- 

irtKn  relates  in  approva]  ihal]  be  reccifed  from  a  majority  of  the  members,  the  President  shall 
dectaie  sucfi  vote  or  reaolutioa  carried,  md  it  shall  be  taken  as  the  action  of  the  hoard,  as  if 
done  at  a  reguTar  meeting.  Between  the  tst  and  lolh  day  of  March  each  year  the  Secretary 
ihall  lend  to  each  member  of  the  League  a  voting  blank  jor  Chief  Consuls  and  RepreaentaLJveL 
Each  Dcmbcr  who  was  admltied  or  whcu  dues  were  paid  up  ta  the  ist  day  of  March,  ihall  he 
entitled  lo  one  Tote  for  Chief  Consul  lor  the  State  wherein  he  reiidet,  and  one  TOte  for  each 
Reptcseotativa  that  his  Slate  is  entsllect  lo  under  these  rules ;  each  vote  ihal!  ha  signed  by  ihe 
member  mtinf  it,  and  returned  ta  the  Secretary  before  the  totb  day  of  April,  and  by  him  d^ 
Uiered  to  the  Committee  en  Ri^Is  and  Privileges.  This  conuniltee  shall  lott  and  count  Iha 
VDIe*,  and  make  a  return  of  the  same  lo  the  Pietident  on  or  before  the  lolh  day  o(  April  \  the 
penen  abuining  the  largest  number  of  Tom  in  each  Suie  for  Chief  Consul  shall  be  elected,  and 
the  per»os  receiving  the  largest  number  of  votes  ai  Representalivei  shall  be  elected.  (A 
Division  having  a  membership  o(  joo  or  more  may,  however,  adopt  the  rule  of  sending  voles  to 
the  Divtdan  Sscntary,  belen  April  lo,  and  he  ihall  ernily  the  ranlt  lUrcctly  to  the  League's 

rvnll  of  Ihe  e 
uglify  every  n 


624  1*^^,  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

appoint  one  Consul  for^ach  locality  that  in  his  jndgmeat  is  entitled  thereto,  and  shall  appouit 
League  hotels.  Representatives  shall  recommend  to  their  Chief  Consols  names  ol  members  of 
the  League  to  senre  as  Consuls,  and  shall  recommend  hotels  for  appointment  as  League  heawi- 
quarters.  They  shall,  in  connection  with  their  Chief  Consol,  have  power  to  decide  all  local  mat- 
ters in  their  States  as  provided  for  in  these  rules,  and  shall  have  a  general  oversight  over  the 
affairs  of  the  League  in  their  immediate  district.  The  Division  Secretary-Treasurer  shall  keep  a 
full  register  of  all  members  of  his  Division,  shall  keep  suiubie  books  of  aoooont  of  all  recdpCs 
and  expenditures,  and  shall  transact  such  other  business  for  his  Division  as  may  be  aas^ed  him 
by  the  members  thereof  at  any  of  their  meetings.  Consuls  shall  acquire  and  give  any  infonnatiaa 
as  to  roads,  hotels,  laws,  and  other  matters  of  interest  in  their  localities  19  members  of  the  League, 
calling  upon  them  in  person  or  by  letter ;  keep  the  State  officers  informed  from  tiase  to  time  by 
reports,  perform  such  duties  as  the  latter  may  require  of  them,  and  gcneraliy  promote  the  inter* 
ests  of  the  League  and  its  members.  Consuls'  term  of  office  shall  expire  July  i,  but  they  may  be 
removed  for  cause  at  any  time  by  the  Chief  Consul  of  their  State,  whose  lieutenants  they  are. 

"Any  amateur  wheelman,  in  good  standing,  eighteen  years  of  age  or  over,  shall  be  eligible  to 
membership  in  this  League  upon  payment  of  an  initiation  fee  and  dues,  and  with  the  indmao 
ment  of  two  League  members  in  good  standing,  or  of  three  repatiri>le  chiaens  of  the  United 
States  or  Canada.  Upon  the  approval  of  the  Board  of  Officers  or  a  committee  thereof,  two 
weeks  after  the  publication  of  his  name  in  a  list  of  candidates  in  the  offidad  organ  of  the  League, 
the  applicant  shall  become  a  member.  An  amateur  is  one  who  has  never  engaged  in,  nor  assisted 
in,  nor  taught  any  recognized  athletic  exercise  for  money  ar  other  remuneration,  nor  knowingly 
competed  with  or  against  a  professional  for  a  prise  of  any  description.  To  prevent  miaunder- 
standing  in  interpreting  the  above,  the  Lei^ue  draws  attention  to  the  following  explanation  :  A 
wheelman  forfeits  his  rights  to  compete  as  an  amateur,  and  thereby  becomes  a  professional,  by 
engaging  in  cycling  or  any  other  recognised  athletic  exercise,  or  personally  teadiing,  training,  or 
coaching  any  other  person  therein,  either  as  a  means  of  obtaining  a  livelihood,  or  for  a  stated 
bet,  money  prize,  or  for  gate  money,  competing  with,  pace-making  for,  or  having  the  pace  made 
by,  a  professional,  in  public  or  for  a  prise ;  selling,  realizing  upon,  or  otherwise  turning  into  cash 
any  prize  won  by  him.  This  rule  does  not  apply  to  teaching  the  elements  of  bicyding  solely  for 
the  purpose  of  effecting  the  sale  of  a  bicycle.  vThe  League  recognises  as  athletic  exercises  all 
those  sports  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  National  Ass'n  tA  Amateur  Athletes  of  America,  includ- 
ing running,  walking,  jumping,  pole-leaping,  putting  the  shot,  throwing  the  hammer,  thnnriog 
the  weights,  tug-of-war,  and  rowing,  boxing,  sparring,  lacrosse,  polo,  roller  and  ice  skating." 

An  application-blank  containing  the  above  definition,  may  be  found  in  each  issne  of  the 
BuUethtf  or  procured  from  any  League  officer.  Appended  to  it  are  the  following  words,  ad- 
dressed to  the  Secretary-Editor :  "  Inclosed  you  will  find  initiation-fee  and  annual  dues  for  the 
L.  A.  W.  I  hereby  certify  that  I  am  over  x8  years  of  age  and  an  amateur  within  the  meanii^ 
of  the  definition.  I  refer  to  the  persons  named  below."  The  applicant  whose  membership  is 
to  begin  during  the  first  quarter  of  the  year  (Jan.  to  March)  most  enckise  $s ;  second  quaiter 
(April  to  June),  I1.7S ;  third  quarter  (July  to  Sept.),  $1.50;  fourth  quarter  (Oct  to  Dec),  St.as. 
Continuance  of  membership  costs  ^i  a  year,  payable  in  advance  on  January  i ;  and  all  names 
not  paid  for  by  March  x  are  dropped  from  the  rolls.  Life-memberships  are  obtainable  on  pay- 
ment of  $10.  A  certificate  of  annual  membership,  in  the  shape  of  a  card  rigned  by  both  the 
Secretary  and  Treasurer,  is  issued  to  each  member  each  year,  and  contains  his  name  and  en- 
rollment-number,  together  with  a  '*  series  letter."  Thus,  as  the  cards  of  '86  belong  to  series 
«*G,"  those  of  *87  will  belong  to  series  "  H,"  and  so  on.  The  new  member  usually  reoeivea 
his  card  about  a  month  after  sending  in  his  money,  though  the  BtdlHm  meanwhile  oooses  to 
him  each  week,  beginning  with  the  issue  which  prints  his  name  as  an  appKcanL  The  act  of 
joining  the  League  makes  him  a  member  of  a  State  Division  also,  if  one  exists  hi  the  SUta 
where  he  resides ;  and  no  direct  tax  is  levied  for  the  support  of  this,  inasmuch  as  ooc4»lf  the 
annual  dues  which  he  pays  the  League  are  returned  to  the  treasury  of  his  State  DiviaioB. 
All  applications  and  money  for  membership  must  be  sent  to  the  League*s  Seoetaiy-Editor,  E. 
M.  Aaron,  Box  916,  Ph{!adelphia,'Pa. 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN,      625 

Under  the  system  of  goverament  and  administration  thus  described,  the  State  Dtvisions  of 
the  League  are  the  chief  sources  of  power,  and  supply  the  means  by  which  the  wheelmen  of  any 
given  section  may  most  readily  put  into  practical  shape  their  own  ideas  for  the  encouragement 
of  cycling.  For  example,  the  State  Division  of  Pennsylvania,  influenced  laigely  by  the  seal  of 
a  Philadelphia  Representative,  H.  S.  Wood,  chief  of  the  League's  "  Bureau  of  Information," 
has  paid  out  no  less  than  faooo  for  printing  and  mailing  4  eds.  of  a  road-book  containing  tabu- 
lar  reports  of  12,000  m.  of  roads,  chiefly  ia  Pa.,  N.  J.,  and  Md.  The  current  ed.  may  be  con- 
sidered the  joint  publication  of  the  Divisions  of  those  three  States,  all  of  whose  members  receive 
free  copies  of  it,  though  iu  price  to  League  men  of  other  States  is  %x.  The  Maasachusetu 
Division  daims  credit  for  publishing  a  State  road-book  a  year  earlier,  though  in  mudi  less  elab- 
orate style  (pp.  48;  seep,  m);  hand-books  of  the  Ohio  Division  (pp.  6a)  and  the  Missouri 
Division  (pp.  83)  were  issued  in  'Ss ;  and  the  '86  ed.  of  the  former  is  greatly  improved  and  con- 
tains a  large  road-map  of  the  State  (sent  for  ^i  by  the  Chief  Consul,  J.  R.  Dunn,  Massillon).  The 
(California  Division  was  hardly  a  half-year  old  when  it  issued  an  excellent  road-book  (64  pp., 
Aug.,  '86),  on  the  model  of  Wood's,— containing  not  only  blanks  for  written  additions,  but  also 
stubs  on  which  to  paste  the  new  pages  which  are  to  be  supplied  as  monthly  parts  until  July,  '87, 
when  the  complete  book  will  be  sold  for  75  c  to  League  men  and  $1  to  others.  Advance  sub- 
scribers of  those  sums  will  receive  both  the  preliminary  ed.  and  the  complete  ed.,  while  the 
former,  without  the  monthly  parts,  will  be  mailed  to  any  one  for  35  c.  The  outlay  upon  this 
was  #400 ;  and  cash  orders  as  well  as  road-reports  should  be  sent  to  the  compiler  and  "  Division 
booknuster,"  J.  W.  Gibson,  61a  Hyde  St.,  San  Frandsoo.  Road  books  are  now  in  progress 
by  th£  Divisions  of  Connecticut  (C.  G.  Huntington,  Hartford),  Indiana  (L.  M.  Wainwright, 
MoUesville),  Massachusetts  (H.  W.  Hayes,  91  Sute  st,  Boston),  Michigan  (J.  H.  Johnson, 
107  Spmce  St,  Detroit),  and  New  York.  The  latter  Division  may  \yi  credited  with  giving 
official  support  to  an  excellent  private  work,  issued  in  Apr.,  '86,  by  one  of  its  consuls  :  "  Road 
Book  of  Long  Island ;  containing,  also,  the  best  riding  of  N2W  York  and  New  Jersey,  within 
SO  ro.  of  New  York  Qty,  with  nups  and  plans ;  pub.  under  the  auspices  of  the  Brooklyn  BL 
C"  This  is  scfnt  for  %i  by  the  compiler,  A.  B.  Barkman  (60S  Fourth  av.,  Brooklyn);  and  all 
communications  concerning  the  forthcoming  New  York  Road-Book  should  be  addressed  to  him. 

In  the  second  year  of  the  League,  before  any  State  Divisions  had  been  formed,  it  issued 
a  book  (Sept.  15,  '81,  from  the  press  of  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons,  New  York ;  pp.  104,  price  50  c.) 
containing  the  "constitution,  racing  rules  and  general  information,"  together  with  lists  of  the 
executive  board,  the  directtMrs,  the  consuls,  and  the  members.  The  three  Matter  lists  were  ar- 
ranged by  States,  and  each  State's  members  (May  30,  '81)  were  presented  alphabetically,  with 
eiLact  residences  and  enrollment-oumbersk  The  ill-fated  "  ham  and  handle-bar  badge "  was 
impressed  upon  the  cover  and  title-page,  as  already  recorded ;  but  the  book's  worst  misfortune 
was  to  print  as  its  opening  phrase  the  following  perversion  of  history  x  "  The  Lea^;ue  of  Ameri- 
can Whedmen  was  bom  at  Newport,  R.  I.,  May  30, 188a"  That  day  was  Sunday,  and  the  real 
date  of  nativity  was  Monday,  the  31st ;  but  the  error  of  this  earliest  "  offidal  book  "  has  been 
very  generally  perpetuated,  so  that  the  League's  "  official  letter  heads  "  were  still  giving  "  May 
30"  as  the  date,  when  my  present  sketch  pointed  out  the  need  of  correcting  it,  in  May,  '86. 
The  fall  text  of  the  ooostitntion  has  been  thrice  printed  in  the  BtdUtm :  Aug.  so,  '85,  pp.  138- 
40;  Jan.  39,  '86,  pp.  70-73 ;  May  31,  '86,  pp.  4a3-«5  (omission  given  later,  p.  554).  Proposed 
amendments  were  printed  Feb.  19,  '86,  pp.  rao-ss,  and  radng  rules,  Sept.  4,  '85,  p.  174,  and 
Jan.  39t  '86,  p.  73.  The  Bl  H^^rltPs  "  spedal  number  "  (Jan.  1,  '83)  contained  the  constitution 
and  radng  rules,  and  the  latter  have  been  issued  in  pamphlet  form  l^  the  Radng  Board.  In- 
atnactions  abont  joining  the  Leaicne,  and  its  constitution  and  roost  important  relictions,  were 
printed  in  the  IVAtfi^  and  as  a  "  IFAm/ supplement,"  while  that  ionnial  was  organ ;  and  a  sim- 
ilar sheet  was  pub.  by  the  Secreury  about  a  year  later  (Feb.  ts,  '85;  ed.  sjoo),  from  type 
used  on  the  "  amateur  gaaette."  As  early  as  Dec.,  '85,  the  Bulltim  began  to  print  artides  for 
a  "  L.  A.  W.  Handbook,  to  appear  in  FeK,"  and  electrotypes  were  made  from  the«e,  and 
afterwards  destroyed  unused,  bfcauM  of  chants  in  the  rales.    Various  other  causes  have  delayed 

the  actual  publicatioD-day  so  that  now,  in  Nov.,  it  seems  unlikely  to  arrive  before  '87.    The 

40 


6]6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

pamphlet  is  deaicDed  M  in  e1ectIaMeriii(  dacmuDi,  and  ii  W  b>  topiiliFd  lo  lU  applkaiia 
wbD  willpiylhe  poft^;e.  tl  will  have  about  70  pp.,  iDd  5000  copies  Kill  tx  prinled  aaa  ift  cd. 
In  Aug.,  'S6,  a  little  pamphlet  ms  prepared  brlhe  Sec-Ed.  ri>ro&cen'ate(]4  pp.,  ijacopiet, 
fiom  trpe  which  had  been  ueed  in  BMlUiiit),  imiuiniiig  comiiiution  and  by-lm  on  its  lehJiud 
paget,  and  on  the  oppo&ite  pogee  certain  propmed  amendmeDte  which  were  adopud  Sept.  j. 

A  vote  wna  puKd  at  the  annual  meeting  of  July  a,  'S5,  anlhorixing  the  Executive  Com- 
mitiee  Ed  take  Dieaaurea  for  getting  the  League  iocorporaled  under  the  lawn  of  bme  State  \  bol 
the  coDunittee,  having  eaanined  (he  difficultiea  of  the  caH,  decided  nut  to  act  until  alter  report- 
ing the  aame  lo  the  boanL  These  difficulliei  were  described  bjr  the  Vice-Preudent,  S.  Terr;,  a 
lawyer,  in  a  report  which  waa  printed  in  BiUlttiit,  Dec  15,  p.  410 ;  and  ^^in  Mar.  5,  'B6,  p. 
1*9,  with  Ibe  account  ol  the  board  meeting  of  Feb.  it,  which  voted  (o  readnd  Iheiaof  Join 
but  the  matter  was  revived  Sept.  ],  when  Ibe  board  voted  that  "  the  Ex.  Con.  ihould  pmceed 
with  the  incorponiion,  if,  as  a  result  ol  eonaulling  with  the  Comniitie*  00  Rights  and  Privi- 

any  Division  having  a  memhenhip  of  511a  or  more  to  adopt  the  rule  of  sending  baDotl  lo  (he 
Division's  Secretary,  ioitead  oF  the  League's  SecreUiy,  and  ordering  ihe  lamer  lo  certify  Ibe 
result  directly  to  the  League's  PreHdenl.  The  New  Vorlt  Division  at  Dnce  look  advantage  of 
the  change  by  apporrioning  the  Slate  into  six  voIiugKiialricta,  according  lo  county  Uoea,  and 
ordering  thil  each  district  be  entitled  to  one  representative  for  every  50  luembefs  rending  Iberein. 
If  Iheie  diitricl  repceienlatives  prove  fewer  than  Ibe  State  a  entitled  to,  the  Chief  Connil  is 
anthorixed  to  nominate  the  needed  nnmber  of  repreaenlatives-at-large,  tor  app^ntmenl  by  the 

dencei,  as  weD  as  an  alphabetical  list,  and  was  voted  an  alio 
Hereafler,  he  u  lo  be  elected  on  the  same  mail-vote  with  lfa< 
Consul  1  aiHl  the  latter,  in  case  the  office  of  Chief  Consul  I 
until  the  neil  eleaion,— though  Ihese  provisions  leem  lo  c 
League.  On  Sept.  i,  the  Diiinon  bad  a  cash  balance  ol  f  ii 
year.  CHle  balance  in  the  League  treasury  at  the  same  I 
Committee  reported  Ibe  adoption  of  an  improved  system  of 
ol  Ihe  plan  Inherited  from  the  early  days  of  the  League,  an 
be  very  promptly  discovered.)  Rules  similar  lo  those  of 
adopted  by  the  olher  large  Divisions  of  Ihe  League,  and  h 
lentalives  from  a  much  greater  number  of  localities.     The  £ 

ing-boanl  of  three ;  and  a  part  of  the  plan  is  thai,  if  this  lot 
Division  Secretary  must  sand  the  ballots  to  Ihe  Executive 
canvass  the  same  not  later  than  Mar.  jo,  and  report  10  the  I 
0  the  me 
nding  Ui 
members  only.     His  at 


ndidn. 

1  succeed 

■ith 

meeting  of  Sept.  1 

and  he  Ih 

vote:  bu 

nrther  resection,  b 

he  local 

ectio 

o-Iaw  already  adopted.     Allusi 

Preside 

nl  Bales 

(in 

he  Cyclt,  May  or 

J«e,'B6 

,by 

ess  and 

should  ac 

ually 

I  think 

practio 

hie,  but  Ihe  idi 

.as  advanced  in  [an 

^ofilare 

lendency  is  towards  letting  well«naugh  atone :  and,  as  the 
andfalriyemcient,  lamnotalirmedatallirhen  IbsarJK 
iats  yearn  to  radically  reform  it,  I  urge  them  to  work  on  ll 
The  League's  seven  annual  boards  of  executive  olScei 
FiasT,  rMo-i.  PriiuUiU,  C  E.  Pratt  (b.  Mar.  ij. 
L.ongstreth.  Philadelphia;  CrmmaMdtr,  C.  K,  Monro 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      627 

A.  S.  Paimni  (b.  Nor.  6,  '41),  Clmbiiilgi! ;  RicoriiiHg  Stentary,  J.  F,  Bnrrill,  New  YaA  1 
TVwuxrVT-,  H.  L.  WiUooghby.  Saraloga. 

Sbcohd,  laSi-j.  P.C.  E.  Prut,  B«laiii  K-A,  J.  M.  Fucfield,  Chicago ;  C,  C,  K. 
Munnx,  New  York(ifltr  March,  S.  A.  Mandeo.Ncir  Haven);  C.  5.,  K.  N.  Pulnan,  Kew 
York;  K.  i'.,  5.  T.  Clark,  Baldinoni  7".,  Dillwyn  Wiitar,  Philadelphia. 

Thixd,  ia«i-i.  P.,  W.  H.  Miller  (b.  iSti),  Columbus  1  K-/'.,  A.  S.  Paruni,  Cambridge; 
C.S.,¥L  N.  Pmnim,  NeirYork(arierNov.,  F.T.  Sholei,CleTelawl);X,  .S„A.  3.  Hibbird, 
MUwaukee ;  T.,  W.  V.  OAnaa  (b.  Nor.  ij,  >}6),  Kaibua. 

FounTH,  i88j^.  P.,  N.  M,  Beikwilh  (b.  Apr.  34,  '46),  New  York;  K-/*.,  W.  H.  Miller, 
Columbw  -.CS.,  F.  Jenkins  (b-  Jan.  10, '»),  New  Yotk  (afwr  Feb.  8,  W.  V.  Cilman,  Naihui }; 
R.  S.,  A.  S.  Hibbird,  Milwaukee ;  T.,  W.  V.  Gilnun,  Nashua. 

Fifth,  iSSvS-  /".,  N.  M.  Beckwilh.  New  York;  V..P.,V/.  H.Miller,  Columbuii  C, 
S.,  C.  K.  Alley,  BuKalo;  R.  S„  E.  M.  Aaron,  Fhilidelphia;  T.,  S.  Teiry,  H.rttoni 

SirrH,  1S8S-6.  /".,  N.  M.  Betkwilh,  New  York ;  K-/".,  S.  Terrf,  Hanford;  T.,V.P, 
KeDdaU(b.M.y  u.  'ji).  WorceWer ;  Si^tafy-EdUor.  E.  M.  Aaron,  Philadelphia;  Third 
itrmitr  e/Exicitivt,  T.  J.  Kirkpairick  (b.  Sepl,  jj,  •%%),  Springfield,  O. 

StmHTH,  iSW^.  />.,N.M.  Beckwilh,  New  York;  r.-/>.,  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick,  Springfield, 
O. ;  r.,  S.  Lawun(b.  June  10,  ']8},  SpnngGeld,  Mi.  ;  S,-E.,  E.  M.  Aaron,  PhHadelpbia;  T. 
J/>/£:r.,  J.  C.  Culick(b.  Apr.  11, 'si).  New  York. 

la  the  following  Hit  of  League  commttten,  sernng  Oct.  jo,  '86,  Ibe  chaimin  of  each  b 
fint-oamecl :  MnuBHisHir.— E.  F.  Hill,  Pcekikill,  N.  Y. ;  G.  C.  Bmwn,  16  Bnad  it.  Ellin- 
beth,  N.  J. ;  J.  R.  Dinin,  MusUlon,  O.  Ractkc— A.  Bauell  (b.  Mar.  10,  '45),  11  School  M., 
Bouon;  E.  L.  Miller,  1J4  S.  Fmnl  )!.,  Philadelphia  i  N.  H.  Van  Sicklen  (b.  Feb.  q, '60),  1 
Adamisl-iChicigo;  C.  H.  Poller  (b.  May  10, '55),  Clevelindi  Gerry  Jooei,  Binghamlon,  N. 
Y.  [Official  Handicapper,  N.  P.  Tyler  (b.  Oct.  11,  '4S),  New  Rodielle,  N.  Y.]  Rhus  and 
Rbculatiohs.— W.  I.  Harrii,  BoHon  1  C.  S.  Butler,  16]  Main  tt.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y, ;  K.  U 
Clapp,  jaS  W.  6iilh  11.,  N.  Y.  Rights  and  Priviligbs.— C.  E.  Pratt,  {97  Washlnglon  11., 
Bo^aaD',  J.  C.  Gulick,  iji  Nauiu  it.,  N.  Y. ;  A.  S.  Panooa,  Cambridge,  Maia.  Tiansfor- 
TATioH,— Burley  B.  Ayen,  t;)  S.  Hoyne  av,,  ChicaE°>  "I. ;  C.  R.  Bidwell,  ji^  W.  jSth  it., 
N.  y. ;  W.  S.  Bull,  jS7  Main  «.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. ;  J.  H.  Livingalcm,  ed.  Rfftmur,  Bminirgton, 
Vt.;  F.T.Shole>,Manh-HarwaDdCo.,ClevelaiKl,0.;  Frank  Read,  Afi-nf  Building,  Phila- 
delphia; r.  A,  Elwell,  7>iniKT^olBce,Porllaiid,Me.  ;ColiiinbiiaWitcrhonM,  San  Fnuduo, 
Cal.  I  F.  X  Mudd,  A.  A  W.  P.  Railroad,  Montgomery,  Ala. ;  W.  M.  Brewiler,  Vindllia  Line, 
SI.  Louis,  Mo.  1  M.  E.  Graret  (at  large),  Mannheim  Building,  St.  Paul,  Minn.  TouBtna— 
B.  B.  Ayen  (b.  Oct.  8.  '58),  TourmaMer,  Chicago,  111.  \  H.  S.  Wood  (b.  Dec.  18,  ■te).  Book, 
■naater,  Yovngitown,  O. ;  G,  R.  Bidwell,  Chief  Manhal,  New  York  ;  H.  D.  Corey  (b.  Jan. 
as,  '«4).  General  Agent,  Boston ;  F.  Jenklni,  Chief  Quarteimaiter,  New  York ;  E.  Olirer,  Sec- 
retary, Chicago ;  W.  G.  Kendall (b.  July  i,']t),  BoHon;  W.  S.  Bull,  Buffalo;  W.G.E.  Peirct, 
Chicago;  N.  L,  CoUamer,  Washington ;  J.  Fennell,  London.  The  ;  last.namedare  the  re- 
in the  following  lilt  of  Stale  officeia  who  are  lerving  ihe  Leagne,  Get.  30,  '86,  the  firat- 
named  in  each  caae  a  Chief  Consul,  whose  term  eipires  at  the  neil  annual  meeting,  and  the 
aecoad-aamed  is  Secreury-Treasucet,  whose  term  expires  about  a  year  from  the  dedgnatid  dale 
Divbion  wu  OTBanized ;  and 
Treasurer,  Birthdays,  when 
led  by  the  •,  The  Soies  «• 
officer!  have  been  chosen  or 

tnge  iL,  Portland ;  A.  L.  T. 
if.  Bennett,*  Mandieslel' ;  G. 
i»  (b.  Julyar, 'ej),  RDilndi 
Mass.— Oct.  11,  'S>:  H.  H. 
DC  ».  *j8},  Springfield,  Ani. 


628  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

'86.  R.  I.-'Dec  9,  '85;  J.  A.  Chase,  Pawtucket;  H.  L.  Perkins,  PnmdeDce,  Dec  10^  '85. 
CT.—Jan.  22,  '84 ;  C.  G.  Huntington,*  Hartford ;  D.  J.  Post  (b.  Jan.  28,  *6i),  Hartford,  June 
29,  *86.  N.  Y.— May  29,  '83  ;  G.  R.  Bidwell,  313  W.  sSth  St.,  N.  Y. ;  E.  K.  Austin*  ^b.  Dec 
4,  »6o),  55  Hart  St.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  Sept.  3,  '85.  N.  J.— May  30,  '83  ;  E.  W.  Johnson,  21a 
Broadway,  N.  Y. ;  F.  R.  Bonnell,  51  Crescent  av.,  Jersey  City,  Aug.  28,  '86.  Pa. — ^June  17, 
*83 ;  J.  A.  Wells,  321  Chestnut  St.,  Philadelphia ;  T.  H.  Wright*  (b.  Mar.  24.  *6o).  Box  1619, 
Philadelphia,  Aug.  19,  '86.  Dbl.— J.  E.  Palmer,  1225  Market  St.,  Wilmington.  Md. — ^June 
27>  '84;  J.  K.  Bartlett,  South  and  Second  sts.,  Baltimore ;  W.  S.  Bayley,*s66  North  av.,  Balti- 
more, June  2,  *86.  D.  C— Nov.  24,  '84 ;  E.  T.  Pettengill,*  1713  N.  Y.  av.,  Washington ;  G. 
M.  Myers,  Citisens  Nat.  Bank,  Washington,  Mar.  31,  '36.  W.  Va.— Aug.  31, '86;  W.  L. 
Wright  (b.  Apr.  8,  '59),  Wheeling;  H.  P.  Wilkinson,  Wheeling,  Aug.  31,  'S6.  Va.— Oct.  ai, 
'86;  F.  L.  Harris,  Harrisonburg;  A.  K.  Schaap, Richmond,  Oct.  21,  '86.  N.  C. — J.  L.  Vopp, 
Wilmington.  [S.  C,  Ga.]  Fla.— W.  J.  Farrell,  Femandtna.  [Ala.]  Miss.— J.  P.  Bruce 
(b.  June  7,  '6s),  Vicksburg.  La.— Mar.  3,  '85 ;  E.  A.  Shields  (b.  Nov.  28,  '59),  93  Race 
St.,  New- Orleans;  Geo.  Baqui^,  Box  7S2,  New  Orleans,  June  23,  '86.  Tbx. — W.  A.  L.  Knox 
(b.  June  16,  *57),  Dallas.  [Ark.]  Tbnn.— Jan.  18,  'S6 ;  W.  L.  Surprise  (b.  Dec.  9,  '59),  254 
Front  St.,  Memphis;  C.  J.  Schcrer,  211  Main  st.,  Memphis,  Jan.  x8,  '86.  Kv.— '84;  N.  G. 
Crawford,  Louisville;  T.J.  Willison,  Dayton,  July  3,  'S6.  O.— July,  '83;  J.  R.  Dunn, 
Massillon ;  G.  S.  Atwater,  Massillon,  Sept.  6,  '86.  Mich. — May  30,  '83 ;  J.  H.  Johnson*  (b. 
Mar.  18,  '60),  107  Spruce  St.,  Detroit ;  J.  E.  Beal  (b.  Feb.  23,  *6o),  Ann  Arbor,  June  29, 
'86.  Ind. — Sept.  27,  '83;  A.  B.  Irwin  (b.  July  14,  '50),  Rushvillc;  J.  Zimmerman,  37  S. 
Alabama  St.,  Indianapolis,  May  15,  '86.  III. — May  31,  '3(;  J.  O.  Blake*  (b.  May  23,  '4S), 
68  Wabash  av. ;  B.  B.  Ayers*(b.  Oct.  8,  '58),  152  S.  Hoyne  av.,  July  5,  '86.  Mo.— June 
s8,  '85;  J.  S.  Rogers  (b.  Aug.  19,  '64),  St.  Louis;  J.  A.  Lewis,  U.  S.  Treasury,  St.  Louis,  June 
19,  *86.  I  A.— May  31,  '84;  W.  M.  Ferguson,  Jefferson;  J.  F.  Rall*(b.  Mar.  iS,  '63),  Iowa 
Falls,  Dec  3,  '85.  Wis.- A.  A.  Hathaway,  Box  454,  Milwaukee.  Minn. — ^Sept.  10,  '83;  S. 
F.  Heath,*  Armory  Hall,  Minneapolis ;  H.  A.  Aim  (b.  Nov.  27,  '49),  Fanners  and  Medianics 
Bank,  Minneapolis,  Sept.  22,  '85.  [Dak.]  Nbb. — Apr.  29,  '86;  W.  F.  Rogers,  1321 
Famam  St.,  Omaha ;  Benn  Fell,  2502  Harney  St.,  Omaha,  May  10,  '86.  Kan. — SepL  2a,  '86 ;. 
J.  H.  Everest  (b.  Dec.  11,  '63),  Lyons;  C.  C.  Candy  (b.  June  22,  '65),  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Sept. 
a3,  '86.  [Ihd.  Tbr.,  N.  Max.]  Col.— Feb.  17,  'S6;  L.  B.  Johnson  (b.  Nov.  13,  '63), 
Denver;  F.  J.  Cliamard,  442  Glenavon  St.,  Denver,  Feb.  17,  '36.  Wv. — F.  H.  Clarke,  Chey- 
enne. [Mon.]  Id.— E.  C.  Coffin.  [Wash.,  Or.,  Utah,  Nbv.,  Ariz.]  Cal. — Feb.  xS,  '86; 
R.  M.  Welch  (b.  Nov.  13,  '56),  Stock  Exchange,  San  Francisco ;  P.  E.  Haslett  (b.  Nov.  11,  '6$)^ 
Green  and  Front  sts.,  Feb.  ao,  '86.  (A.  W.  Laird  was  elected  Sec-Treas.  of  Minn.  Div.,  Sept. 
aj.  '86.)  


If 


'  The  American  Cyclists'  Union  "  (org.  May  29,  '36)  is  an  offshoot  of  the  League,  havii^ 
been  called  into  existence  by  the  fact  that  the  latter's  racing  rules  formed  a  barrier  to  the  succeae 
of  the  Springfield  tournament,  as  an  "  international  "  annual  competition.  The  ultimate  reason 
for  their  thus  forming  a  barrier  lies  in  a  peculiarity  of  cycle  racing  which  distinguishes  it  from  every 
other  sort  of  competitive  sport, — the  peculiarity  being  that  a  victory  in  such  racing  has  advertis- 
ing value  to  the  maker  of  the  cycle  upon  which  it  is  won.  This  fact  renders  extremely  difficult 
the  maintenance  of  any  rule  which  tries  to  class  in  separate  social  grades  the  racers  for  glory 
and  the  racers  for  gain  ;  and  the  attempts  to  maintain  it  cause  a  great  deal  of  bitterness  and 
acrimony  to  be  displayed  in  public,  and  an  endless  amount  of  hypocrisy,  humbug,  shilly-shally^ 
sophistry,  treachery,  deceit  and  downright  lying,  to  prevail  in  private.  "  They  do  these  things 
much  better  in  France,"  it  seems  to  me ;  and  the  argument  of  those  Englishmen,  repreaented 
by  J.  R.  Hofiqg  and  the  editors  of  Whieling^  who  protest  against  the  folly  of  the  pretense, 
which  is  made  in  most  other  countries,  st  discriminating  between  "amateur"  and  "pro- 
fessional "  radng  cyclers,  is  to  my  mind  conclusive  and  unanswerable.  Almost  anyjroung  feK 
low  who  likes  to  exhibit  himself  on  the  race  track,  and  who  has  power  to  do  any  specially  swift 
wheeling  there,  will  accept  pay,  in  one  shape  or  another,  from  the  maker  of  the  machine  which. 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      629 

%is  Tictories  help  advertise  into  popularity ;  and  no  set  of  rules  which  aim  to  make  sudi  aooept- 
aoce  put  him  at  a  social  disadvantage  alongside  a  less-lucky  nicer,  whose  swiftness  isn't  worth  a 
maker's  paying  for,  will  command  general  support  in  a  democratic  community.  If  *'  interna- 
tional tournaments  "  are  to  exist  at  all,  they  must  be  promoted  by  "  the  trade."  If  cycle  races 
.are  to  be  held  on  a  scale  large  enough,  and  with  business-management  good  enough,  to  challenge 
the  notice  of  the  outside  public,  they  must  be  "  professional  "  races  in  reality,  no  matter  what 
they  may  be  called.  President  Bates  showed  this  truth  clearly  in  saying  (BL  Worlds  July  9, 
'86,  p.  365) :  "  It  is  the  flying  Get  There  who  captures  the  money  and  enthusiasm  of  the  Ameri> 
can  people.  They  want  to  see  the  fliers ;  they  don't  care  a  straw  for  the  duffers.  If  bicycling 
wants  to  captivate  the  American  people,  it  has  got  to  parade  the  fliers.  If  the  League  wants  to 
«pread  ihe  glory  of  the  wheel,  it  has  got  to  beat  the  Britbh  records,  and  breed  the  fastest  fliers  ia 
the  world.  That  is  one  of  the  surest  ways  to  make  bicycling  universally  popular.  Well,  now, 
iliers  don't  grow  like  weeds.  They  have  to  be  carefully  cultivated  from  the  hardiest  stodL 
^mebody  has  got  to  pay  for  their  cultivation.  Hendee  and  Rowe  and  Weber  and  the  rest  can't 
beat  the  English  unless  they  spend  months  of  time  and  hundreds  of  dollars  of  expense  in  train- 
ing and  procuring  the  best  wheels  that  can  be  manufactured.  Not  one  in  a  thousand  of  the  fli- 
ers is  a  rich  man.  The  flying  stock  is  usually  derived  from  the  ranks  of  labor  and  active  bosi- 
vess.  Unless  somebody  foots  the  bills,  you  don't  have  fliers.  Whether  the  dub,  or  a  manu- 
facturer, or  a  wealthy  promoter  of  the  sport,  pays  the  expenses,  makes  no  difference  with  the 
result.  It  is  the  trained  cracks  who  draw,  and  who  always  will  draw."  Of  nmilar  purport  is 
the  following  extract  from  iVhetlin^s  leading  ed.  of  Sept.  15,  '86,  protesting  against  "  the  fear- 
ful waste  of  money  sunk  in  useless  prizes,"  and  against  the  lack  of  logic  and  of  wisdom  in  the 
rule  which  tempts  racers  into  dishonesty  by  forbidding  them  to  compete  openly  for  cash  :  "  Cycle 
racing  is  a  sport  the  expenses  attending  which  are  so  heavy,  and  the  order  of  men  patronixing 
which  is  proportionately  so  poorly  endowed  with  this  world's  gifts,  that  the  sentimentality  of 
racing  for  honor  has  no  real  chance  of  general  adoption.  In  many,  parts  of  England  the  ama- 
teur belongs  absolutely  to  the  working  classes ;  but  the  great  body  of  cycle  racing  men  belong  to 
the  middle  classes.  They  are  clerks  in  merchants',  stockbrokers',  lawyers',  and  all  kinds  of 
vffices ;  they  are  employed  in  warehouses,  they  are  behind  the  counter  in  shops.  Allowing  for 
exceptions,  their  ages  range  between  17  and  24.  Their  wealth  is  not  great,  but  their  love  of 
athletic  sport,  which  is  a  national  characteris^c,  prompts  them  to  go  in  for  cycle  radng ;  and  our 
contention  is  that,  thanks  to  '  amateurism,'  they  do  so  under  the  worst  posuble  auspices." 

At  the  sixth  annual  general  meeting  of  the  League  (July  a,  '8s),  "  a  thunderous  No  I " 
greeted  the  motion  of  the  Chairman  of  the  Racing  Board  that  the  word  "  amateur  "  be  stridcea 
from  the  phrase  defining  the  conditions  of  membership.  His  own  "  aye  "  was  the  only  onft 
given  in  its  support ;  but  the  plan  which  he  favored  was  not  designed  to  abolish  class  distinc- 
tions in  radng.  On  the  contrary,  he  at  the  same  time  brought  forward  what  he  called  "  a  very 
stiff  law  "  to  protect  "  true  amateur  racers  "  against  further  competition  with  "  makers'  pn^ 
fesnonal  amateurs,"  and  it  was  adopted  with  a  heartiness  which  showed  that  the  League  favored 
its  strict  enforcement.  This  "  stiff  law  "  was  the  definition  quoted  on  p.  624,  which  has  since 
"been  in  vogue ;  and  it  is  practically  identical  with  the  one  which  professes  to  govern  the  English 
radng  men,  and  which  some  of  them  will  attempt  to  abolish  at  the  Dec.  meeting  of  the  N.  C 
U.  Executive.  During  the  latter  half  of  '85,  the  Radng  Board  collected  evidence  that  ahaoat 
every  prominent  prize-winner  known  to  American  wheeling  had  accepted  pay  from  sontt 
bicyde-maker,  and  they  perfected  a  plan  by  which  they  could  fairly  expel  from  Leagut 
membership,  as  "professionals,"  all  such  suspected  ones  as  would  not  sign  a  certain  form  of 
xertificate  "  which  made  it  easily  possible  for  every  innocent  man  to  clear  himself."  This  plaa 
-was  thoroughly  approved  by  the  Executive  CoQimittee,  on  Feb.  ai ;  and  the  board  then  issued 
their  manifesto, — printing  a  list  of  the  "  suspects  "  (Btdlttm^  Mar.  la,  p.  214),  with  copica  of 
the  documents  which  they  had  forwarded  to  them  for  possible  signatures.  A  month  later  (Apr, 
*6,  p.  338)  those  who  failed  to  establish  their  innocence,  by  supplying  such  signatures,  were  foiw 
matly  expelled ;  and  the  board's  report  to  the  seventh  annual  meeting  named  aS  men  whom  th«y 
liad  thus  dedared  "  professbnals "  during  the  year.    This  report  (with  the  debato  whi^ 


630  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

enthonastkaUy  approfed  its  adoptioD,  and  an  attoraey's  written  opinion  that  the  ads  takan  had 
been  strictly  legal  as  well  as  just)  covered  pp.  ssM^  in  BttUgtm  of  June  11,  '86,  and  contained 
many  instructive  revelations  of  the  difficulties  «diich  beset  *'  amateurism.*'    It  showed  that  the 
clubs  which  are  prominent  as  Face*manafers  "  were  in  favor  of  the  amateur  rule,  but  agin*  the 
enforcement  of  it,"  thus :    "  One  large  dob  in  Mass.,  of  good  standing  in  the  League,  filled 
the  entry  list  of  a  race-meeting  without  personal  communication  with  a  ungle  racing  man,    evtjy 
one  of  these  '  amateurs  '  being  entered  by  a  dealer,  and  every  entnnoe4ee  coming  from  a  dealer'a 
till."    I  suppose  that  enterprising  dubs  of  this  sort  took  all  possible  pains  to  increase  the  tofreat 
of  abuse  which  the  sporting  papers,  and  most  of  the  cycling  papers,  poured  oat  upon  the  head 
of  the  Chaurman  of  the  Radng  Board,  as  a  sort  of  autocratic  monster  who  had  suddenly  broken 
loose  for  the  destruction  of  American  radng  interests.    There  was  something  very  funny  in  the 
illogical  fury  with  which  these  writers  "  pitched  into  "  a  man  who  was  umply  doing  the  duty 
demanded  by  his  offidal  position.    His  three  assodates  unanimously  agreed  with  him  as  to  this 
duty,  and  their  report  thus  formulated  the  evident  truth  aibout  it :    "  We  have  acted  under  the 
rules  of  the  League ;  and  any  critidsm  of  our  course  reflects,  not  upon  ns,  but  upon  the  rules- 
which  you  have  given  us  to  enforce."    A  reader  who  got  his  opinions  soldy  from  the  cycling 
press,  during  the  three  months  of  qjmng,  must  have  supposed  that  these  rules  had  been  forced 
upon  the  League  by  some  sort  of  trickery ;  that  they  would  be  altered  at  the  next  annual  meet* 
ing,  so  as  to  rehabilitate  all  the  swift  racers  m  *'  amateurs  " ;  and  that  the  Chairman  of  the 
Racing  Board  would  be  dismissed  in  disgrace.    The  round  after  round  of  applause  whidi  greeted 
him,  in  fact,  as  the  most  popular  man  of  the  occasion,  when  he  related  how  effectively  he  had 
done  the  exact  things  which  the  League  had  ordered  him  to  do,  showed  that  the  cyding  papers 
had  failed  to  reflect  or  to  influence  Xjtxsait  opinion  upon  this  matter.    They  had  merely,  aa 
trade  drculars,  reflected  the  wishes  of  the  dealers,  who  disliked  to  have  their  summer  advertis- 
ing interfered  with ;  but  all  thdr  talk  and  bluster  represented  such  a  pitiful  minority  of  actual 
votes  that  not  even  an  attempt  was  made  in  open  meeting  to  change  the  wdl-established  policy. 
The  League's  steadfast-sticking  to  this  honorable  line  of  conduct  gave  good  proof  of  excep- 
tionally excellent  moral  fiber  as  a  controlling  element  in  its  membership,  and  offered  a  notable 
contrast  to  the  vadllating  and  irresolute  action  of  the  English  N.  C.  U.,  which,  after  a  few  haUf- 
hearted  attempts  to  exclude  the  "  makers'  amateurs,"  openly  pleaded  a  fear  of  the  libel-law,  as 
an  excuse  for  inability  to  enforce  its  own  definition  against  them.    The  League's  firmness  of 
course  won  it  great  respect, — ^both  from  those  who  furiously  denounced  it  for  not  adhering  to- 
the  hypocritical  English  plan  (£  r.,  classing  the  men  who  are  secretly  paid  for  radng  m  socially 
superior  to  the  men  who  professedly  race  for  a  livelihood),  and  from  those  who,  like  myself, 
believe  it  unwise  for  the  League,  or  for  any  similar  body,  to  encourage  bitteraess  and  bad-blood 
by  setting  itself  up  as  a  sodad  censor  between  wheelmen.    This  firmness  has  shamed  even  the 
N.  C.  U.  into  plucking  up  a  little  courage  for  a  new  attempt  to  assert  its  rule ;  and  if  its  recent 
edicts  of  ostracism  against  the  best  racers  of  England  shall  arouse  public  sentiment  for  the  abol- 
ishroent  of  that  rule,  the  League  may  ultimately  take  some  credit  for  such  abolishment,— and  I 
hope  may  be  led  by  it  to  abolish  its  own  rule,  improbable  as  such  act  now  seems.    The  lexical 
line  of  demarkation  which  should  be  insisted  on  by  those  who  favor  a  social  separation  between 
rich  and  poor  in  the  cyding  world  (for  that  is  all  which  their  contention  about  "  amateur  '" 
and  "  professional  "  really  amounts  to),  is  the  line  drawn  between  wheehnen  who  exhibit  them> 
sdves  on  the  race-track,  and  wheelmen  who  do  not.    The  wealthy  ones  may  be  said  never  to- 
race,  because  so  many  other  pleaaanter  paths  to  enjoyment  and  distinction  are  open  to  them ; 
while  the  young  fellows  who  enjoy  making  a  display  of  their  speed  would  almost  ahrays  prefer 
to  earn  a  little  money  as  an  inddent  to  such  display.    Almost  every  such  one,  at  heart,  resenta 
the  injustice  of  a  rule  which  brands  him  as  a  *'  professional "  if  he  competes  for  public  money, 
or  accepts  a  private  gift  from  the  maker  of  a  machine  which  he  has  pushed  to  victory,— rather 
than  some  trumpery  medal  or  costly  gew^w,  of  no  practical  use  to  him,  and  whidi  be  is  for- 
bidden to  sell.    To  my  own  mind,  it  is  perfectly  dear  that  the  only  legitimate  legislative  function 
for  those  bodies  which  assume  the  government  of  cycle  radng  is  to  so  dassify  oompcJlitors  that 
each  shall  be  encouraged  to  develop  his  highest  possible  speed.    Raceit  of  similar  reootds  aad 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      631 

',  and  thiwe  of  «¥il  repute  tbodd  be  niled  oul : 

DC  for  evniDg;  either  public  or  privUe  money  by 


It  may  rightly  be  nude  a^!ii«t 

ucial  recDghition  because  iieispoor. — whieb  uoaiuei  >uch  inEal]it>]e  knDwIedge  of  every  hamui 
heul  u  10  uy  Ihat  a  racer  who  makei  moaey  from  his  fadbg  mufti  necnAarily  be  any  len 
genaioe  and  enthuuaitic  a  iponsman, — vaj  leu  honeit  and  eamen  a  eompelitDr  for  ifae  glorr 
of  victoty,— Ihan  Ihe  racer  who  strivei  (or  the  laurel-wrealh  alone. 

Returning,  now,  from  the  digreewn  of  the  last  paragraph,  1  resume  my  namlive  a(  the 
end  oE  the  previous  one,  which  left  the  friends  of  Ihe  expelled  "  maken^  amateurs"  listeninKia 

"  American  cndu  "  were  \o  be  eicluded  from  Ihe  Springfield  tnumunent,  none  of  Ihe  English 

the  manager  at  once  brought  forth  "  Ihe  American  Cycliils'  Unioo  "  as  a  device  far  getling 
■round  Ihe  diScDlIy,— iS  other  League  men  {from  the  Springfield,  Lynn  and  Newloo  dabs) 
oonvening  with  bun  in  a  parlor  of  the  Hofel  Vsndome  to  give  it  recognition  and  appoint  the  fol- 
lowing  officers  ;  Pni.,  H.  E.  Docker,  Springfield;  V.-Pni.,  J.  H,  I<wi>,  Boslon;  Ste., 
A.  O.  McGarrHI,  Springfield;  Trial.,  G.  F.  Bamanl,  Lynn  ;  Ei.  Cum.  <in  addiiion  In  Ilie 
Iluee  finl-named),  T.  A.  Caunll,  Lynn ;  W.  E.  WenlWDRh,  Newionville.     ThcH  oScen  were 

which  Ibey  prepared  were  printed  as  a  BupplemenL  id  the  H^lutlmtM*t  Gaxttu  tor  June, 
together  with  a  set  of  racing  rules  which  were  identical  in  most  reaped*  wilh  Ihoae  nl  the 
League,  "  This  association  shall  consist  of  bicycle  and  tricycle  clubs  (fin),  unallached  araaleur 
ridcrsfsoc),  andcycling  irackassodatinns  (fjo),'^  Their  respective  annual  feesareihe  sums 
■amed,  which  are  payable  on  Jan.  i  to  the  SecreUry,  and  he  on  that  day  must  mail  a  voting- 
blank  fa  the  Iwo  reprvsentatives  whom  each  club  or  assodalion  baa  elected  to  the  governing 
board  (pTfrrided  all  their  dues  and  finea  have  been  paid)  ;  which  rcpreaentativea  shall  jemail  to 
him  by  Feb.  i  signed  balkm  sliovnng  their  choice  for  Ihe  neil  ytar'a  officeia,  and  the  reaull  shall 
beaniKHiaced  by  Ihe  President  between  Feb.  i;  and  Mar.  i.  The  annual  meeliog  shall  beheld 
in  March ;  spedal  meetings  on  wriltsn  applicalion  of  S  repreaenlaliTea!  at 
pencnaJly  prcKnt  at  any  meeting  shall  constitute  a  quonim,  and  have  power  toadopt  su 
as  Ibey  please  for  the  guidance  of  racing.  So  long  as  they  refrain  from  asserting  Ihii 
Irowever,  all  such  rules  shall  be  at  Ihe  diaootioa  of  the  Radng  Board, — cooaisting  of 
TVtary,  ^xejicit,  and  four  olhcn,  appointed  by  the  Preudenl.  He  shall  also  appcnnt 
bcrahip  cosnmitfee  of  three,  who  sball  count  and  certify  to  him  Ihe  vote  Dn   Feb.  15  ; 


weeks'  notice  of  every  change  haa 
xmtinenl  is  apportioned  into  racing 
■da;  {a,  "Atlantic")  N.Y„N.  J., 
d  Fla. ;  (j,  '•  Central  "}  O.,  Mich., 
Col.,  Wy.  [  (4, "  Southern  ")  Ala., 
□fie ")Mon.,  Id.,  Wash., Or.,  Utah, 
whom  application  should  be  made 
rn  those  respective   districts,  are  aa 


632  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

follows :  (i)  G.  H.  Burt,  Hartford,  Ct. ;  (a)  W.  F.  Coddington,  Newark,  N.  J. ;  (3)  J.  S. 
RogeiB,  St.  Louis,  Mo. ;  (4)  W.  L.  Surprise,  Memphis,  Tenn. ;  (5)  S.  F.  Booth,  jr.,  San  Fran- 
cisco, CaL  These  names  are  derived  from  a  vest-pocket  pamphlet,  printed  by  the  SpringfieUl 
Printing  Co.  (Aug.,  *86;  pp.  ao;  mailed  free  on  application  to  the  Sec  of  A.  C.  U.),giviqg 
constitution  and  rules  but  no  other  information  and  no  statistics  of  membership.  My  request 
that  the  President  supply  m2  with  the  latter,  brought  the  following  response  (Nov.  4)  :  "I  sup- 
pose that  if  you  count  individuals  as  members,  we  have  nearly  1000 ;  if  clubs,  about  zi." 

The  A.  C.  U.*s  earliest  definition  of  "  amateur  "  was  designed  to  let  the  "  makers'  hired 
men"  compete  under  that  guise,  in  spite  of  the  League's  having  branded  them  as  "profes- 
sionals"; but  the  hopelessness  of  persuading  any  of  the  English  makers  to  tiefy  the  League, 
by  sending  their  men  across  to  race  against  the  branded  ones  at  Springfield,  became  almost 
immediately  evident.  However  great  their  contempt  for  the  N.  C.  U.'s  ability  to  suppress 
evasions  of  its  own  rules,  the  English  makers  knew  it  would  never  tolerate  the  open  violation 
thereof  implied  by  having  its  "  amateurs  "  compete  with  men  whom  the  ruling  government  in 
a  foreign  country  had  declared  "  professionals."  The  A.  C.  U.,  therefore,  submitting  to  the 
inevitable,  changed  its  animus  towards  the  League  from  hostility  to  friendliness,  and,  early  in 
July,  adopted  a  "  strict  amateur  rule,"  in  harmony  with  the  League's,  thus  (the  significant  addi- 
tions being  italicised)  :  "  The  standard  of  A.  C.  U.  membership  shall  be  detennined  by  these 
rules  :  (A)  An  amateur  is  any  person  who  has  never  tMgagtdtMt  nor  assisted  u$,  nor  tangkl 
any  rscogmudaUdetic  exereis*  for  money,  or  who  has  netfor,  either  in  public  or  in  private,  raced 
or  exhibited  his  skill  for  a  public  or  for  a  private  stake,  or  other  remnneration,  or  lot  a  purse, 
or  for  gate  money,  and  never  backed  or  allowed  himself  to  be  backed  either  in  a  public  or  private 
race.  (B)  i4  ^omateur  is  one  who  at  any  time  or  in  any  degree  has  violated  his  amateur  stasid* 
ingas  denned  above ,  by  receiving  expenses  or  other  remuneration  for  ^yclo  riding  or  ttny  other 
recognized  athletic  exercise,  (C)  A  professional  wheelman  is  one  who  at  any  time  and  in  any 
degree  has  violated  his  amateur  orpromateur  standing  as  defined  above.  To  prevent  any  m» 
undersunding  in  interpreting  the  above,  the  Union  draws  attention  to  the  following  explanation; 
A  wheelman  forfeits  his  right  to  compete  as  an  amateur  and  thereby  becomes  a  promatenr,  by 
Receiving  expenses  or  other  remuneration  for  riding  the  cycle ^  or  training  or  coaching 
others  for  cycle  racing,  A  wheelman  forfeits  his  right  to  compete  as  an  amateur  orpromedomrt 
and  thereby  becomes  a  professional,  by  (A)  Riding  the  cycle  or  engaging  in  any  athletic 
exercise  for  a  money  prise  or  for  gate  money ;  (B)  Competing  with,  or  pace-making  for,  or 
having  the  pace  made  by  a  professional  in  public  or  private  for  a  prise  or  gate  money ;  (Q 
Selling,  realising  upon,  or  otherwise  turning  into  cash  any  prise  won  by  him.  (D)  The  Union 
recognizes  as  athletic  exercises  all  the  sports  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  N.  A.  A.  A.  A.  and 
the  N.  C  U. ,  viz. :  Running,  walking,  jumping,  pole-leaping,  putting  the  shot,  throwing  the  ham- 
mer, throwing  of  weights,  tug-of-war,  and  also  rowing,  boxing,  sparring,  lacrosse,  polo,  roOer 
and  ice  skating." 

The  new  word  thus  first  formally  proclaimed,  in  sanctioning  thu  4)ectal  class  of  riders,  ta 
a  contraction  for  "  professional-amateur,"  which,  in  the  form  *'  pro^mateur,"  is  current  in  En- 
gland, though  the  commoner  term  there  is  "  maker's  amateur,"  or  "  M.  A."  Of  course,  the 
League  was  indifiEsrent  as  to  how  the  "  non-amateurs  "  should  be  classed  or  designated,  so  long 
as  its  own  definition  of  "  an  amateur  "  prevailed.  As  it  never  assumed  jurisdiction  of  tiiab 
outside  the  regular  race-track,  many  of  its  members  were  glad  to  see  the  A.  C.  U.  su|>idy  aa 
authority  for  hill-climbing  contests,  and  also  give  recognition  to  road-racing,  by  the  folk>wing 
rules :  "  Road  records,  whether  made  in  open  competition  or  against  time,  must  be  made  over  a 
course  so  laid  out  that  no  portion  of  the  road  shall  be  traversed  more  than  twice,  provided,  how- 
ever, that  in  a  a4  h.  contest  the  rider  may,  if  he  choose,  select  at  any  point  in  his  coarse  a  strip 
of  not  less  than  $0  m.  and  retraverse  as  often  as  time  will  permit.  In  a  race  against  time  tiM 
competitors  must  be  accompanied  the  entire  distance  by  a  pace-maker.  The  board  of  review 
will  receive  and  pass  upon  all  daims  for  records,  and,  if  requfred,  claimants  must  furnish  a 
statement  from  the  judges  and  time-keepers  of  the  meeting,  together  with  a  sworn  statement 
from  a  competent  surveyor  certifying  to  the  measurement  of  the  track  or  road ;  and  road  records 


MINdR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS.  633 

'aiist  be  Mcompcnied  bf  the  »woni  sUtement  of  a  competent  eunreyor  as  to  distance,  or  by  a 
^certificate  that  the  distance  has  been  measured  by  three  certified  cyclometers,  the  lowvest  raeas- 
orement  of  which  has  been  taken."  (A  "  professbnai's  "  competition  or  pace-making  at  hill- 
•climbing  or  roadpradng  spoils  the  status  of  an  "  amateur  "  there,  the  same  as  on  a  race-track.) 

The  autumn  report  of  League's  Racing  Board  i^Bulktm^  Sept  17,  '86,  p.  399)  raid  :  "  We 
ibelieve  there  is  room  for  the  A.  C.  U.  It  will  be  no  small  gain  for  our  sport  when  professional 
racing  and  road-radng  are  regulated ;  and,  as  we  cannot  do  this,  we  should  welcome  the  co- 
operation of  any  body  which  will  take  it  in  hand  *  *  We  suggest  that  a  clause  be  added  to 
«ur  amateur  rule,  so  as  to  f ortrid  a  man  to  receive  his  expenses  from  a  cycle  manufacturer  on 
pain  of  disqualification.  We  intend  soon  to  consider  a  proposition  to  allow  clubs  to  pay  the 
expenses  of  a  member,  under  spedal  sanction  of  the  Racing  Board.  Our  '  Rule  H*  forbids 
•this,  without  such  sanction,  and  also  forbids  the  acceptance  of  expenses  from  a  manufacturer ; 
•and  the  mail-vote,  just  taken,  decides  that  the  rule  shall  stand.  We  have  never  in  fact  had 
occasion  to  expel  a  man  for  receiving e3q>enses  from  his  club;  but,  in  the  absence  of  our  rule,  a 
-manufacturer  might  easily '  get  up  a  little  club  to  pay  a  lot  of  expenses. '  "  This  attempt  to  rescind 
*'  Rule  H  "  was  made  by  the  oiganizers  of  the  A.  C.  U.,  asan  appeal  from  the  League's  general 
'meeting  of  May  39  to  the  sober  sense  of  its  officers  individually ;  and  the  attempt  failed  by  a 
vote  of  78  to  a  1.  Their  attempt  to  have  the  League  officers  restore  the  expelled  "  professionals  " 
.failed  by  a  vote  of  85  to  15.  It  was  understood  that,  if  successful  in  these  two  attempts,  they 
would  abandon  the  A.  C.  U.,  and  consent  to  see  all  American  racing  managed  under  the 
•Ranged  policy  of  the  League.  Still  other  attempts  against  destiny  were  made  by  the  same  men 
■at  the  same  time,  and  lost  by  about  the  same  majority,  thus  :  to  change  the  constitution  (81  to 
19) ;  to  abolish  all  reference  to  racing  in  League  by4aws  (85  to  15) ;  and  to  reverse  the  act 
'Of  the  League's  President  in  deposing  the  A.  C.  U.'s  President  from  the  chief  consulship  of 
tfie  Massachusetts  Division  (87  to  9). 

The  correspondence  between  the  latter  and  the  Secretary  of  the  N.  C.  U.,  relative  to  the 
Jonnation  of  "  an  International  Alliance  to  control  racing  "  was  printed  in  BuUeiin  (Aug.  27,  p. 
309},  together  with  letter  from  the  League's  Racing  Board  Chairman,  assuring  the  English  rac- 
ing "  amatenrs  "  that  the  League  "  woukl  not  protest  against  the  N  C.  U.  's  granting  them  spe- 
cial sanction  to  enter  'promateur'  events  of  the  A.  C.  U.  at  Springfield,  but  that  they  could  not 
■in  such  case  also  enter  amateur  events."  The  final  official  reply  from  England,  Aug.  la,  which 
quenched  the  last  despairing  hope  for  **  international "  sport  at  the  tournament,  said  :  "  It  is 
•perfectly  clear  that  the  N.  C.  U.  cannot  consent  to  English  amateur  riders  competing  against 
4he  'pronrnteurs'  of  the  A.  C.  U.,  a  class  against  whom  the  amateurs  of  the  L.  A.  W.  would  not 
-be  allowed  to  compete."  The  actual  "promateur  races"  of  Sept.,  '86,  between  "teams" 
avowedly  representing  rival  makers,  did  not  please  the  American  public ;  and  press  opinions 
seem  pretty  unanimous  that  this  experiment  at  separating  into  two  classes  the  men  who  make 
their  livelihood  at  cycle  racing  will  not  be  repeated.  It.proved  that  racers  who  are  employed  to 
advertise  a  given  maker's  bicycle  upon  the  path  can  no  more  be  depended  upon  to  always  ride 
their  swiftest,  than  racers  whose  sole  occupation  is  to  compete  for  money  prizes  can  always  be 
depended  upon  to  ride  their  swiftest  when  tempted  to  "  sell  out."  As  President  Bates  favored 
the  "  proroateur  plan,"  because  he  believed  it  would  "  help  develop  fliers  and  international 
competitions  on  a  grand  scale,"  I  hope  the  failure  of  it  may  lead  him  to  advocate  the  abolition 
of  all  hair-splitting  subtleties  about  "  amateur  "  and  "  rrofoi^^"^-"  When  those  two  hate- 
breeding  words  are  banished  from  cycling  nomenclature,  a  really  honest "  International  Alliance  " 
may  be  made  by  the  N.  C.  U.  and  A.  C.  U.  for  the  management  of  tournaments  whose  magni* 
tode  and  squareness  shall  once  again  compel  the  popular  respect. 


The  Canadian  contingent  of  League  membership  when  the  first  year  ended  ((654,  May  31, 
'81)  was  greater  than  at  any  time  since,  for  Ontario  then  supplied  24  members  and  the  Province 
of  Quebec  19^  A  pair  of  these,  one  from  each  province,  were  included  among  the  following 
8  enthusiasts  who  met  at  Toronto,  Sept.  11,  '83,  and  founded  the  "  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Asm^ 


634         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

dation  "  ;  H.  S.  Tibbs,  Montreal;  R.  H.  McBride,  Toronto;  J.  S.  Brieriey,  St  Thomas;  P. 
Doolittle,  Aylmer  ;  F.  Westbrook,  Braatford;  J.  H.  Eager,  Hamilton;  W.  Pajrne,  Londoa; 
and  J.  K.  Johnston,  St.  Catherines.  All  except  the  lint-named  were  residenu  of  Ontario,  and 
that  province  supplies  |  of  the  present  membership.  AiYoments  were  o£Eered  in  favor  of  oi)pw- 
idng  as  an  Ontario  Association,  and  as  a  Canadian  Division  of  the  L.  A.  W.  (ntt  of  the  English 
C.  T.  C,  as  might  have  seemed  probable),  but  the  plan  of  an  independent  national  body,  to 
represent  the  entire  Dominion,  finally  prevailed ;  and  a  committee  of  4  were  appointed  to  draft  a 
constitution  and  by-laws,  and  submit  the  same  to  the  ratification  of  the  dubs.  About  a  dozen  of 
these  were  represented  in  a  meetmg  of  some  50  wheelmen,  at  St  Thomas,  Sept.  it,  when  the 
Goraroittee's  work  was  adopted  and  a  provisional  government  was  formed  to  serve  until  the  first 
regular  annual  meet  and  election,  at  London,  July  a,  '83.  Tho  parade,  then,  attracted  ayo 
riders ;  a  year  later,  at  Toronto,  there  were  350 ;  the  third  meet,  in  '85,  at  Woodstock,  had  nearly 
400,—*'  the  most  representative  gathering  of  cyders  and  the  largest  crowd  of  spectators  ever  seen 
at  a  wheeling  event  in  Canada  " ;  and  the  fourth,  in  '86»at  Montreal,  was  the  greatest  social  suc- 
cess of  the  series,— though  there  were  only  165  paraders,  of  whom  the  local  dub  supplied  53,  be- 
cause the  meeting-place  was  more  distant  from  most  members'  homes  than  had  been  the  case  in 
previous  years.  The  provisional  president  of  the  C.  W.  A.  was  J.  B.  Boustead,  Pres.  of 
Toronto  B.  C,  and  the  Secretary-Treasurer  was  J.  S.  Brierley.  As  he  dedined  to  serve  longer, 
the  first  regular  election  nude  by  the  directors  conferred  the  office  upon  H.  B.  Donly  (b.  Jan. 
4,  '61),  of  Simooe,  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  weekly  Norfolk  Rf/ormer,  and  the  subsequent 
boards  have  unanimously  re-dected  him  each  year.  In  '86,  an  annual  salary  of  |aoo,  payable 
monthly,  was  attached  to  the  office,  and  an  allowance  of  $150  for  the  past  year's  servicea  was 
also  granted.  The  President  and  Vice-President  are  chosen  at  and  by  the  annual  meetings  of 
July  I  (Dominion  Day),  and  are  ineligible  for  second  terms.  The  four  elections  have  resulted 
as  follows  :  '83— R.  H.  McBride,  of  Toronto,  and  P.  Doolittle  (b.  Mar.  aa,  '61),  of  Ayhner; 
'84— H.  S.  Tibbs,  of  Montreal,  and  J.  S.  Brierley  (b.  Mar.  4,  '58),  of  St  Thomas;  '85— J.  S. 
Brieriey,  of  St  Thomas,  and  W.  G.  Eakins,  of  Toronto ;  '86— W.  A.  Kam  (b.  June  ay,  '57),  of 
Woodstock,  and  J.  D.  Miller,  of  Montreal. 

Of  the  8  districts  into  whidi  Canada  is  divided  for  the  government  of  membership,  5  bdong 
to  Ontario.  Each  is  entitled  to  dect  a  Chief  Consul  and  a  Representative  (also  one  akklitioiial 
Rep.  for  each  50  members  beyond  the  first  50),  on  ballots  which  must  be  sent  out  by  the  Sec- 
Treas.  before  April  10,  be  returned  to  him  before  May  10,  and  be  counted  and  reported  to  the 
President  (by  3  scrutineers  whom  he  appoints)  before  May  aa  He  dedares  the  result  as  soon 
as  practicable ;  and  the  new  officers  organise  on  July  i,  immediately  after  the  annual  meeting^ 
and  elect  the  Sec-Treas.,  who  becomes,  tx  officio^  a  member  of  their  board  and  of  every  stand- 
ing committee.  The  officers  must  meet  at  least  once  a  year,  not  less  than  two  montha  before  the 
annual  meeting ;  and  they  may  be  ordered  to  meet  at  any  time  by  the  President,  or  by  s  aMB^ 
bers  of  the  board ;  and  a  quorum  of  thp  board  shall  be  constituted  by  5.  Each  Chief  Consol 
shaUl  appoint  a  consul  for  every  town  or  village,  and  their  terms  shall  eqiire  Dea  31,  but  they 
may  be  removed  for  cause  by  the  President.  He  may  also  remove  any  officer  of  the  board  for 
misconduct,  and  he  shall  remove  any  officer  at  the  written  request  of  15  members  of  his  district 
who  charge  misconduct  against  him.  Such  act  of  the  President  may  be  revoked  by  an  appeal  to 
the  board,  if  a  f  vote  can  be  gained  at  one  of  their  meetings,  or  if  a  majority  of  a  mail-vote  can 
be  gained.  The  Pres.  and  Sec.  may  order  a  mail-vote  at  any  time,  and  so  may  a  minority  greater 
than  two,  at  any  board  meeting,  when  they  wish  to  give  any  defeated  motion  a  second  trial. 
The  board  of  officers  also  may  order  a  mail-vote  of  the  members  in  general ;  and,  in  caae  of  a 
proposed  change  in  constitution,  a  majority  of  votes  thus  cast  shall  decide.  Otherwise,  such 
changes  must  be  made  by  }  vote,  at  the  annual  meeting ;  and,  in  either  case,  a  fortnight's  notice 
must  be  given.  The  Radng  Board  shall  be  formed  of  the  Chief  Consuls,  each  having  charge  of 
his  own  district  (its  chairman  is  now  F.  J.  Gnadinger,  of  Montreal) ;  the  Membership  Committee 
shall  consist  of  the  Sec-Treas.  and  two  other  members  of  the  board  who  live  most  convenieat 
to  him ;  the  Committee  on  Rules  and  Regulations  shall  consist  of  3  members  of  the  boaid ;  bat 
the  Transportation  Committee  may  be  appmnted  from  the  general  membership. 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS,  635 

btcoui  a  nanbcr  of  Itw  C.  W.  A."  hj 

ippliauiop-bUnk,  jind  retuniiDg  il^  li^edi  with  fi  cndoKdt 
.  or  of  3  TcpuLiUc  dtbcDi  ol  the  pUce  in 


maBba  la  join  Ihc  C.  W,  A.  aari  be  iidaiiued  al  so  c  per  UHnilm  \  lud  Iheir  reoem]  feu 
■lulL  ftlw)  be  >t  the  •vne  nM^  tboofh  olhen*  Tenewslt  coi4  %i.     Reoewal  fee*  m  piyablt 

piid  b;  Sept  i.  The  parade  u  each  umuil  meet  ibill  be  unngcd  >nd  conunanded  bj  iht 
apuin  oi  the  oldul  tool  club  1  and  duba  ihall  have  precedence  in  tbe  oider  of  their  joiniog  the 
C  W.  A.  At  the  lama  dale  and  plaa  ahall  tie  held  a  nee  meeling,  lac  cliunpionibip  priui  ol 
tbeC.  W,  A.  Ilanwtio  ia  ".4  fatdtGttmt;'  and  id  badge  i>  a  wheel,  Ihe  laine  nhu  tb* 
League'a,  with  the  three  ioilula  in  relief,  but  it  haa  a  maple-leaf  in  the  center^  and  above  thjt  a 
beaver.  Spcdment  io  gcdd  (fj.jo}aod  lilvec  (|i.}d)  ma;  be  had  a[  ihe  Set-Tieai.,— wbo  de- 
tif^ned  tbe  badge  in  Dec,  'ftj,  and  baa  uld  no  in  all.  He  alto  suppliei,  at  40  c  per  yd.,  the 
■pedal  make  of  dark  gnty  HaIIEu  tweed  which  was  adopted  for  a  unifoim  in  ^03,  and  which  b 
aaid  to  have  given  grai  aatiafBction  for  ita  wearing  quaHtiei  on  the  road.  Hy  next  chaptA'  (p. 
fi6q)  explains  how  tbe  CaHodiam  WkHimau,  wbicb  began  in  Sept-^  '83,  bat  been  mailed  each 

cMiiDUid  at  tiio.  The  accounu  of  Ihe  Sec.-Treai.,  July  i,  '86,  u  puUitbed  by  ihe  iwo  audi- 
lon  whom  the  Pnudenl  mutl  annually  ai^nl  u  eiamine  the  Bme,  thaw  Ijj  1  rcceind  for 
nembenbip  feet,  f  106  for  profit  on  Ihe  racetoi  the  annual  meel.and  a  balance  on  handof  #319^ 
or  hS  more  than  on  July  i,  '83.  The  year'i  tipendituret  were  f  joa,  whereof  the  largeat  lingle 
mm  atnl  la  Ihe  Witt/mait  That  paper  of  Feb., 'Ej.give  a  uhkof  memberthip.ihawingMi 
iDenjattigi]edtaa9dubt  in  17  lownfl,  except  that  there  were  1 1  non-dub  men.  Id  ilaiitueof 
Septal  'S6,  tbe  SeC'Treaa.  printed  a  ttalement  ahowing  i7unalUcbed  membcTiiQ  a  lolalof  566, 
aiaigned  10  the  lennl  diatrida.  The  numben,  uameB,  limili,  nienibenhip,  *nd  nfGcen  of  Ihet* 
.  firal  in  eachcaae  :  iil,  "  llucnn  "1  tbe 
itbenweil  lo  Ihe  lake;  iij  i  W.  M.  Begg, 
d.  id,  "  Niagara"; 
Vatcrloo,  Otfocd  and 
li  H.  C  Goodman, 
(ton,  DuOcrin,  Grey, 
Ht,  K.  Ryrie,  aU  oi 
FronienacinduuKi 

w*.    61h,  "Quebec" 
7lh,"Wbnipeg"i 


<36 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  Bit 


-which  he  competes,  or  from  any  cycle  manufacturer  or  from  any  such  s. 
•his  expenses/'    The  complete  racing  rules  occupy  xi  pp.  in  the  new  ' 
are  generally  similar  to  those  of  the  L.  A.  W.  and  A.  C.  U.    The  con 
•amended  at  the  officers'  meeting  of  Feb.  19,  '86,  and  adopted  by  mail- 
•pp.  in  the  same  book,  and  road-reports  extend  from  p.  37  to  p.  109,  foil 
all  the  towns  named,  a  5  p.  list  of  hotels  and  20  pp.  of  adv.    The  forego! 
in  mid-autumn  of  *86  (ed.  1250),  and  the  editors  were  about  to  print  tV 
(containing  lists  of  consuls,  free  r.  r.  lines,  wheel  literature,  and  the  Iil< 
book  in  the  members*  hands  by  the  end  of  Oct.,  when  a  mail-vote  ore?' 
should  be  postponed  until  Mar.,  '87,  on  the  theory  that  it  could  then  ^ 
for  attracting  recruits.    A  new  book  at  the  opening  of  the  riding  season 
■men  join,  is  believed  to  be  a  better  magnet  for  membership  than  an  r* 
■chapter,  I  have  described  (p.  330)  and  made  many  extracts  from  the  «*■» 
-guide  ('84) ;  and  no  one  should  think  of  attempting  to  ride  in  Canada,  wi'- 
•Co  the  5>ec.-Treas.,  at  Simcoe,  Ont.,  and  procuring  a  copy  of  its  enlarged  t 
Tlie  question  of  preparing  a  ad  ed.  of  the  road-map  is  still  under  discus^i- 


^'  Minor,"  as  an  adjective  applied  to  a  club  "  the  size  of  which  th» 
vever  previously  known,"  might  be  resented  as  misapplied,  were  I  not  u 
to  the  American  Division  thereof,  which  I  believe  numbers  little  mo. 
Harrogate,  Eng.,  on  May  5,  '78,  was  oiganized  the  '*  Bicycle  Touring 
that  five  years  elapsed  before  the  first  word  in  its  title  suffered  the  regi 
dists*.  "    It  is  now  known  and  alluded  to,  in  every  part  of  the  cycling 
C."  ;  and  its  former  initials  also  had  popular  vogue  instead  of  its  name 
longed  to  it  in  Mar.,  '79,  when  I  first  mounted  the  bicycle,  though  the 
**  hand-book  "  appeared  in  July  and  Oct.  of  that  year,  and  its  note-siii . 
■gan  to  be  sent  to  members  as  early  as  Oct.,  V^*    The  number  of  the^ 
increased  to  16,625,  whereof  America  supplied  534,  or  nearly  half  oi 
Kingdom  (1106),  Germany  ranking  ad,  with  177;  Austria  3d,  with  bo 
•only  52.    A  year  later  the  "  outside  "  contingent,  which  is  supposed  to  ^ 
color  to  the  C.  T.  C,  had  increased  to  1600,  whereof  the  U.  S.  suppliei* 
tries  931, — the  chief  quotas  standing  thus:    Germany,  300;  Austria- 1. 
71;  France,  60;  Canada,  56;  Denmark,  23 ;  Belgium,  21.    The  gov 
vested  in  a  Council  of  about  125  men,  known  as  Representative  CounciK 
the  latter  being  appointed  by  the  former,  who  are  elected  by  the  37  Divi. 
has  less  than  200  members  can  elect  i  R.  C. ;  200  to  399  members,  3  k 
1)ers,  3  R.  C.*s;  800  to  1499  members,  4  R.  C.'s;  1500  to  2499  mem. 
3499  members,  6  R.  C.*s;  3500  to  4499,  7  R.  C.'s,  and  so  on.     At  th 
Divisions  were  the  nth  (Middlesex,  Essex  and  Suffolk,  3687)  and 
Sussex,  3275),  which  divide  the  city  of  London  between  them  and  ii. 
England,  from  Yarmouth,  its  easternmost  town,  to  Portsmouth,  on  the 
membership  of  the  two  (6962)  comprised  much  more  than  \  that  of  the  <. 
reported  as  19,053,  at  the  annual  meeting  of  May  8,  '86,  when  the  Sec- 
it  Mfould  regain  the  20,000  by  June,  and  hoped  it  might  reach  25,000  I . 
sette  gave  the  accessions  of  '86  thus :    Jan.,  333 ;  Feb.,  688 ;  Mar.,  97 j 
June,  1044;  July,  927;  Aug.,  658;  Sept.,  347;  Oct.,  193;  Nov.,  64,— 
1>ers  in  the  11  months;  and,  as  there  were  15,095  renewals  from  '85, 
42,285.    The  Divisions  ranking  next  in  size  to  the  two  which  surro<. 
"(Lancashire,  15 10)  and  3d  (Yorkshire,  1383),  which  lie  well  to  the  n.,  ai 
Leeds.    The  14th  Div.  includes  the  s.  w.  comer  of  England ;  the  15 
17th  toaoth,  Ireland;  the  31st  to  27th,  Scotland;  the  28th,  the  U.  S. 
the  world  except  the  7  countries  whidi  comprise  the  other  foreign  L 


638  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

u  inTHl9iM  Ihc  cue  oi  mj  menba  who  ii  expelled  Imn  a  eyding  or  IthlMic  dab.  EipcHed 
men  tmi  appeal  to  Ihe  general  tneetinf.  Memben'  annual  duel  [fa  c.)  are  payable  is  adTince, 
Jim.  1  i  and  the  faftVif  non^aymeni  bjr  Frb,  ■  puit  an  end  to  membenhip.  The  Seawatj 
ffiul  then  tormnl  10  the  C.  (J.  of  each  IKTiaian  a  Mat  oi  tbe  names  and  addieiKi  of  all  reiidnu 
io  that  Diirision  whose  membenbip  hai  ihui  lapied ;  and  he  muM  also  cause  id  be  printed,  in 
book  form,  Diriuan  liiu  of  the  enlin  renewed  membenhip  af  ihe  club.  [The  'Sj  book  had  ii 
pp.  and  about  <\,<aa  names,  whereof  Ihe  U.  S.  lupplied  nearly  400.)     He  mutt  admit  iminedi. 

must  receive  an  moneys  and  deposit  the  same  with  the  clubbanlura;  must  attend  all  nectiop 
a(  the  Council,  and  conduct  all  dub  business  under  iheir  direction ;  and,  in  caae  of  tempomr 
inalnlity  to  act,  nay  appmnt  a  member  aa  deputy,  subject  to  their  approval-  llie  Hon.-Treas- 
uier  shall  make  all  payments,  under  direction  of  the  Coundri  Finatwe  Committee  \  and  his 
accounts  and  those  of  the  Secretary  ehall  be  audited  at  least  once  a  year,  by  a  profesuoual 
acconnlant  engaged  by  Ibe  Council  \  and,  after  confinnation  by  them,  shall  be  prinled  in  tbe 
Gamllt^  prior  10  the  annual  meeting.  Chief  Consuls  shall  hare  power  to  appoint  in  thdr 
respective  Divisions,  Consuls,  /rv  trm.  Consuls,  and  C.  T.  C-  hotels,  and  to  revoke  sudi 
appoinlnvents ;  bol  any  one  who  feels  aggrieved  by  siKh  action  may  appeal  to  the  Council 
through  the  Secretary ;  and  no  fro  trm.  Coosul  ehall  receive  a  full  appointmeoi  until  he  Has  been 
seen  and  approved  of  by  a  member  of  lbs  Coundl  or  by  the  Secielary.     No  alleration  can  be 

in  the  GoMdlr."    This  final  rule  (ihe  70th)dedare3  aba  that  tbe  dob's  regulations,  "shall, 

Foreign  cyclers  are  by  the  C.  T,  C.  "  accepted  as  amaieuis  according  to  the  rales  in  fore* 

or  rei^ents  in,  the  United  Kiugdom,  shall  be  tAat  of  Ihe  N.  C.  U.,  and  a  copy  thereof  shall  be 
printed  upon  the  hick  of  each  form  of  application  for  membership."  This  definition  i>  as  fol- 
lows :  "  An  amateur  is  one  who  has  never  engaged  in,  nor  aiusted  in,  nor  taught  any  athletic 
exercise  for  money,  or  other  remuneration ;  nor  knowingly  competed  with  or  igainst  a  prafes- 
itonal  for  a  priie  of  any  description,  or  in  public  (except  at  a  meeting  specially  sancIioDed  by  tbe 
Union).  To  prevent  misunderstanding  in  interpreting  the  abrrve,  the  Union  draws  attention  10 
the  (allowing  explanation  :  A  cyclist  ceases  to  be  an  amateur,  and  thereby  becomes  ■  profes- 
sional by — (a)  Engaging  in  cycling,  or  any  other  athletic  exercise,  or  penonally  teaching,  train. 
ing,  or  coaching  any  other  person  therein,  either  as  a  means  oi  obtaining  a  livelihood,  or  for  ■ 
staked  bet,  a  money  priie,  or  gale-money ;  (^  Competing  wilh,  or  pace-making  (or,  or  having 
rht  pace  made  by  a  professional,  or  person  under  sentence  of  suspension,  in  public,  or  for  a 
priie-,  (()  Selling,  realiiiag  upon,  or  otherwise  turning  into  cash,  anypiiie  won  by  bin;  <A 
Accepting,  directly  or  indirectly,  any  rtmuneiation,  compensation,  or  expenses  whatever,  from 
a  cyde  manufacturer,  agent,  or  other  person  interested  in  the  trade  or  sport,  for  cycle  ridings" 
The  Secretary  sends  application-forms  gratis  to  all  who  ask  for  them,  and  each  candidate  wfan 
be  returas  to  the  Secretary  a  signed  form  must  endotewith  it  an  entrance  fee  of  is  c-,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  6t  c.  which  will  pay  for  membership  until 
ur  eyding  dnb,  he  must  obtain 
le  C.  T.  C,  r 

Conndl.  In  the  case  of  Ihe  American  and  other  out 
Chief  Consul  supply  such  signalurc,  and  thus  the  *[ 
him  directly  to  the  Secretary.  All  names  thus  reach 
are  printed  in  GmvUf  one  week  later,  and  a  copy  Ihe 
one  ^ahul  whom  no  member  makes  an  objection  will 
ehcted,  and  receives  1mm  tlie  Sec.  a  signed  memben 
be  has  pmoused  in  advance  tn  nbey- 

My  next  chapter  gives  an  account  of  the  GosiAf 
dub's  other  phUicatioas  (see  pp.  6Sy90;  and  t  b 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS.  639 

>  54>)>Bd  hoult(p.e(i7).  lu  unifonniioliiqHcial  make  of  gnj  clotli,  "upm 
vhkh  DO  bnidjnE,  ■[UiiikEtH  ov  mniiniiiEB  ihall,  under  any  drcumstapcci,  b«  permiuiUfi  "  \ 
ud  "  DO  local  dubihall  wk^  thja  unifotn  am  iheLr  dwd  unlcHall  tliE  ipeinl»n)oJd  thv  C  T. 
C,"  Of  ounr,  UD  ina  11  cib)igcd  lo  puichaae  eilhet  unilonn  «  badgg,  but  lunbcn  an  n- 
qaeitn]  to  mar  llic  latur  upon  ths  l^(  bnail.  The  badge  in  lue  for  7  ynn  or  dur  m*  k 
viDpIc  ahield  of  lilter  or  ailver-pUtOi  with  the  chib'a  Dane  ^lelled  upoD  il  \a  aquare,  nited  let- 
taia.  CDpica  in  pild  wen  alao  nuidc,  for  uu  od  the  tcvd  or  watch-chaia.  Hadgn  for  CcDiiik 
had  red  enamel ;  ihoie  [or  the  Council  had  blue  Enamel,  wilh  "  R.  C."  or  "  C.  C"  added  id 
gill ;  and  thai  for  the  Secrelaiy  hid  Erevn  ooamel  and  gilt.  "  The  Octopus  "  Ihua  annouDced 
a  change  (WhiMng,  Sepc  %,  'U) ;  "  The  C.  T.  C.  mountain  has  been  in  labor,  aod  has  pro- 
duced the  iDoet  ridicukiua  nwuae,  in  Ihe  ihape  oi  a  badge,  that  il  haa  ever  been  n>]r  lot  to  le*. 
Alter  all  Ihe  ulk,  Iroth,  and  gu  thai  appeared  id  the  GiaMU,  I  eipecled  Kmelhing  rerr  >pe- 
da!  1  but,  il  imilalioD  ii  the  UDcereil  fonu  of  Satleiy,  the  L.  A.  W.  ought  Id  feel  proud  OTtr 
lhiiexacl[ao«niilea(  iude>«n."  Thiee  weeki  later,  the  Hme  wrilei  added  :  "Itiiamow 
tra];.  iDdicrow  thing.  Erer  nnoa  Oct,  'S4,  Mean.  TaoDer,  HiUi,  aod  R.  E.  Phillipe  have  been 
GODudering  the  qaedion  of  Ihe  badge ;  and  dow,  after  nearljr  two  jtm,  thejr  preKnt  a  deaign 
which  ha*  been  duly  regiiiered.  and  which  ii  aeiiher  aitntiG  or  novel,— being  UDply  a  wheel,  with 
three  winp  upon  it,  dangKng  bj  chaina  from  a  bar.  The  act  of  '  inireolion  '  couM  not 
han  lakea  itrj  long,  lor  the  L.  A.  W.  deaign  hu  baen  almou  eiacllir  copied,  and  the  '  patent- 
iDf '  could  Dot  hare  beeo  a  maBnioth  andertaliing,  for  Mr.  P.  i>  a  patenl-.agenl  of  experience ; 
but  the  committee  accm  to  fancy  that  the^  hare  done  uiaeihiDg  TCty  clever,  as  thia  ia  what  ihey 
Bar  about  tbenuelvea  and  Ihcir  work :  '  Id  concluding  our  report,  we  would  poiDt  out  that  the 
matter  we  have  had  to  deal  wiih  haa  bean  one  of  DO  ordinary  caliber,  and  haa  received  at  our 

ed.  dI  GtiulU  rainarlcs  (Oct.,  p.  jBi) :  "  None  dI  Ihe  many  ccmmenli  called  out  by  Ihe  wood- 
CDtaol  the  badge,  inour  lait  isnie,  cube  cotiaideied  other  than  HliBfictoiy.  Il  ii  geDetally 
conceded  that  the  new  anida  is  gracaCul,  aymbolica]  and  appropriate,  and  there  appears  to  be 
IfnledoubtaitoilaultimBtepopularily."  He  thea eiplsini  that,  a>  Ihe  certificate ol ueinber- 
ship  (changed  in  color  or  desigD  each  year)  is  to  tie  framed  in  the  wheel  and  show  ooly  od  the 

of  removhig  it  InxD  the  coat  whenever  a  Diember  denire*  to  prove  his  ideolity  at  1  hotel  head- 
qmrteia,— which  aecessily  ariaei  on  an  avenge  1  or  j  limia  a  day."  This  little  circulsr  ticktl 
will  hereafter  be  issued  to  41V  oaeidben,  aa  a  receipt  for  their  fees,  instead  of  the  larger  angular 
oae  of  former  years,  but  do  oae  will  be  obliged  to  enclose  it  in  the  btdge-lockel,  if  he  preftn 
sane  lesa«ecnre  node  of  canjiDg  it,  whenever  he  wiahe*  to  prove  thai  "  il*  detaila  are  lead- 


The  "  buniDg  quasdoa  "  of  C,  T.  C.  hotel  arraogemeDU  is  discussed  by  do  less  than  1  ■ 

eorrespoDdents  in  this  same  Oct.  OtatlU,  occupyipg  a  ainh  of  it*  space  (pp.  }«»^)  i  and  all 

that  I  have  aaid,  in  Chap.]),  condemning  Ihe  childish  folly  of  every  such  petty  plan  lor  "get- 

ting  Hmsthing  for  nothing,"  is  amply  coDfirmedby  their  renurki,    "  We  are  not  oiV  paupen." 

•ays  Edward  Easlon,  "  aod  I  can't  nndentind  how  it  ns  ever  eipecled  to  get  members  of  all 

.C.  men  «*/«-«  »- 

Hnmended  houses  sub- 

ol  ihoac  Lindloid*  who 

I  tsriff  Onclnsive  of  all 

aas  unable  aa  Ihe  olhir 


of  sell-respeel  implied 
lust  prove  his  membar- 
illon  ;  "  Il  shoidd  Dot 
Ihenuelves  should  boj- 


640  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

cott  those  who  do  not  show  their  cunrent  certificate."  Another  oomphunant  abo  "  doobts 
whether  it  is  the  C.  T.  C.*s  mission  to  attempt  lowering  the  too^ear  hotel-rates  of  Eof^aod, 
since  this  is  more  likely  to  be  done  by  the  excellent  ooffee-tavems,  rapidly  springing  up  and 
improving  in  every  direction/'  and  says  :  **  What  the  late-and-weary  tourist  wants,  is  to  know 
beforehand  of  some  decent  inn  where  he  can  find  a  welcome  for  himself  and  room  for  his 
machine.  I  altogether  object  to  going  in/ormnpauperiSt  ticket  in  hand,  to  the  hotel  bar  (ooca- 
pied  by  half-a^dozen  loungers,  smc^ng  and  drinking),  and  then  having  to  inscribe  my  name, 
address,  and  number  in  a  big  book, — the  operation  to  be  repeated  at  every  fresh  hotel.  This 
savors  too  much  of  the  foreign  police  system.  One  of  the  charms  of  travel  is  to  pay  your  way 
wnchallenged  and  unnamed.  Our  C  T.  C.  plan  falls  between  two  stools.  On  the  one  hand, 
when  a  hotel  reduces  its  rates  at  all  to  accept  the  tariff,  it  does  so  not  very  gradoosly ;  and,  if 
it  does  not  take  it  out  of  you  in  other  ways,  shoves  you  in  a  comer.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
majority  of  decent  country  hotels  charge  less  than  the  tariff,  until  injudicious  consuls  force  it  <m 
to  them."  Other  writers  relate  how  the  cheap  hotels,  in  little  places  where  the  C.  T.  C  merely 
"  recommends  "  instead  of  *'  appointing  "  them,  quickly  raise  their  rates  ("  for  C.  T.  C.  men 
only  ")  to  match  the  tariff  of  the  "  appointed  "  inns.  "  Hence,  hundreds  avoid  entering  a  C 
T.  C.  house,  when  touring,  because  of  the  alleged  high  charges."  "As  tastes  differ,  and  appe- 
tites differ,  I  fear  this  discussion  will  have  no  lasting  results ;  but  I  firmly  believe  the  tariff  is 
too  high  for  90  per  cent,  of  our  members,  which  is  why  so  few  of  them  use  C.  T.  C.  houses.  In 
asking  new  men  to  join,  I  never  mention  the  tariff  among  the  advantages,  for  I  have  found  that 
that  information  makes  a  bad  impression.  Let  us  put  an  end  to  this  arrangement  for  gratui- 
tously advertising  these  houses."  "  For  Ireland,  the  tariff  is  altogether  unsuiuble,  as  most  of 
the  hotel  rates  are  far  below  it,  and  I  rarely  produce  my  ticket  when  touring,  because  it  would 
only  lead  to  increased  expense."  This  last  is  from  R.  J.  Mecredy,  ed.  Irish  Cyclist  A*  A  tkittt. 
Other  writers  testify  as  to  the  other  side  of  the  dilemma,  thus  :  "  It  is  notorious  that  few,  if 
wny f/irst-class  hotels  will  accept  our  tariff ;  for  this  is  practically  a  *  commercial '  tariff,  and  we 
cannot,  therefore,  expect  better  accommodation  than  the  firBt<lass  commercial  hotels  afford. 
The  suggestion  that  all  hotels  should  agree  to  allow  our  members  a  reduction  of  say,  so  per  cent 
on  their  usual  charges  is  evidently  unworkable,  for  it  is  very  unusual  to  find  an  hotel  in  this  country 
which  exhibits  a  fixed  scale  of  charges,  and  they  are  not  likely  to  begin  to  do  so  to  please  the  C 
T.  C.  In  such  a  case  the  discount  wonld  inevitably  be  put  on  before  it  was  taken  off."  "  My 
experience  of  C.  T.  C.  hotels  is  that  they  are,  as  a  rule,  places  to  be  avoided,  and  as  regards 
comfort  and  qnality  of  food,  most  of  them  might  well  have  written  over  their  doors, 
0gni  speranza^  voi  ck^entraUJ*  The  few  good  ones  only  prove  their  general  unsatiafactorii 
*  *'  At  one  of  the  largest  towns  in  Kent,  we  were  given  *  gamey '  chops  for  supper,  and 
bedrooms,  at  the  top  of  the  house,  had  not  even  decent  doors  to  them,  while  the  beds  themselves 
had  plenty  of  vermin.  *  *  I  have  noticed  that  C.  T.  C.  hotels  take  it  out  of  one  in  the  way 
of  drinks,— charging  10  c.  for  milk-and-sodi^,  instead  of  4  c.  charged  at  temperance  inns."  "At 
the  very  last  cycling  inn  I  slept  at  my  experience  included  the  following  :  A  very  higb-smelfing 
chop  for  tea ;  a  shabby  attic-bedroom,  with  a  rough  door  worthy  of  a  cottage  outhouse,  and  a 
dilapidated  blind  which  would  n't  pull  down,  a  specimen  oifuUx  trrttam  stuck  on  the  tallow  of 
my  undeaned  bedroom  candlestidc,  presumably  by  a  former  customer,  and  a  sleepless  nij^it  from 
the  combined  attack,  in  front  and  rear,  of  the  animal  which  Mark  Twain  calb  the  '  chamois.' 
It  is  true  that  this  was  at  a  '  recommended  *  inn,  a  term  which  I  understood  was  applied  to  those 
inns  in  small  towns  which  were  the  best  m  the  place,  but  where  the  charges  were  below  the  tariff. 
This  particular  mn,  however,  was  (1)  by  no  means  the  best  in  the  place,  and  (2)  it  cbaignd  msj 
scrupulously  the  full  tariff.  This  is  my  last,  and  I  must  admit,  my  worst,  experience,  bvl  I  fana 
had  others  which  approximate  to  it.  I  feel  sure  that  this  fixed  tariff  is  acting  injurioaily  b^Mb- 
ing  the  charges  for  cydisits,  inasmuch  as  the  smaller  village  and  roadside  inns  get  to  loHNr^f  |^ 
and  try  to  brinr  thnr  charges  up  to  it  directly  a  csrdist  appears  on  the  premises.  Tha 
I  would  make  is  this  :  In  the  hand-book,  pve  the  names  of  «//the  comfortable  i 
tariff  i  distinguish  with  a  star  those  spedally  worthy  of  commendation,  as  BaMf 
print  all  those  in  italics  iHiich  are  willing  to  make  ao  per  cent,  reductioa." 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS. 

>D  oi  il,  Iht  GaaitU'i  HJilor  idmiu  Uut  "  he  w»  wron) 


iDnlLer  would  be  vowd  a  men  Bcm-eeipeDt  diacoverjr,*' 
"  The  Coundl  have  already  deoded  thu  thit  dientuEaclkiD  nimltUfuupouUile,  bcremcrved. 
In  their  opinian,  the  remedy  lies  in  the  adoplioD  ol  a  eeoipd  uriff,  upplioible  to  ihe  houaei  now 
on  the  recDminended  ]L»."  Thii  ibowB  thtt  Ihe  prnay-wiBQ,  pound-looliih  policy  ji  to  be  per- 
liued  m,  after  Ihe  family  of  it  hva  been  cxprncd,— ibe  only  Mtenipied  refcnn  being  in  endearor 

cbircifig  ibe  "lull  tariff'^  which  has  been  iaboriDUAly  artmnged wiih  IhoHoiher  innA  that  ire 

along  in  >  ru[,^rom  lack  of  leadetm  iDlellectually  competent  lo  giaqj  the  idea  thaL  a  rvdical 
change  ia  the  only  cute  for  Ihe  ttoublu  and  conlempl  brought  upon  iuelj  by  meddling  wiih  ■ 
talk  beyond  iltpowen^ — ii  pitiable  ctwugh  ;  but  language  fails  me  when  I  try  to  expreiamy 
nation  oi  Ihe  folly  of  thoH  busybodiet  who,  in  thia  counlry.  ignmnily  plead  "  the  C.  T.  C.  ex- 

ment  to  louring  wheelmen,  mlboul  regard  lo  "  tatei."  Ths  edilora  ol  WAn/nf  gupply  me 
wiifa  thia  final  bit  of  leilimony  (Sept.  6,  'UJ :   "  The  counties  ecribee  of  the  GiatlU  are  in  lull 

haa  baen  always,  ■  Ax>id  Ihem  I '  Las  year  we  went  to  the  C.  T.  C.  houK  at  Hauinga,  and 
upon  nnenlioDing  the  dub^e  nuH  were  conducted  to  Ibe  roof — the  inner  aide  of  it  certainly,  btiA 
atill  the  roof— Ihough  the  home  w»  half  empty.  The  cyclitt  it  regarded  at  many  of  theae 
hotuea  ae  4  dangerous  ■peculation.  He  may  break  up  the  home  or  play  the  key-bdgle  in  the 
vlenl  waichci  of  the  night,  or  he  may  not.  And  your  hotel-kceper  it  no  re^Kcter  o£  persona. 
The  generic  title  'cyclist'  coveia 'Arty  and  Algeraoo. " 

" Co-opeiaiiTe  Tailoring  Concern"  wai  an  inleipietalion  of  Ihe  club'i  initial)  which 
"  Faed"  originaied,  and  which  (fAai/inf  ha>  prored  the  auhalanlial  accuracy  of  byeihibiling 
(Uar.  34.  '86,  p.  39j),  a  half-page  labulai^iiev  of  the  C.  T.  C.  finance!  for  'gj,  from  the  Coun. 
(il't  annual  report  in  the  Giatltr,  "  aa  compiled  by  a  cycling  friend  to  whom  the  mapipulalion 
of  figutea  ta  a  delightful  recreation."  Without  auch  help,  few  who  look  upon  the  undigeated 
maas  of  official  figures  would  have  patience  to  atudy  out  for  tbenuclTe*  the  following  significant 
■ummariea  :  C.  T.  C.  groefl  profit  c«  trading  accounts,  fMij, — compriaing  ^4609  on  uniforqv, 
fliB]  on  hfldgea,  ^91  on  handbooka,  and  ^9  on  disqounta,  Thia  profit  waa  nearly  aH 
absorbed  by  the  net  cost  of  GaalU,  (6438,  whose  total  am  (f  11,317)  condsted  of  (6804  for 
printing,  (4017  ior  ponage,  and  (486  for  adr.  conunisaionSi—the  adv.  receipts  (heaides  faSo  due 
Dec.  31)  being  $4g7g.  The  "general  eipenaes  "  (including  the  Secretary'a  aalaiy  of  #1500,  but 
euluding  Ihe  adv.  com.  |nal  named)  were  »go}i ,  ID  which  must  be  added  |a793  fur  office  station- 
ery, and  I1640  Cor  ponage,— 1  total  ol  |ii,4S4<  <^  almost  as  mndi  aa  the  revenue  from  member 
■hipylues,  f  11,740.    Thesumof  tajowasaiHirDprialedlo  the  "  N.C.  U.  reserre  fund,"  and  f 95 


642  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

ber  annually  cost  the  club  87  c,  or  25 'C.  more  than  his  annual  dues.  He  reported  that  the 
monthly  amount  of  checks  drawn  by  him  on  the  C.  T.  C.  bankers  often  reached  $7500.  The 
Secretary  reported  that  the  club  had  been  represented  at  England's  first  road  conference ;  had 
distributed  some  200,000  pamphlets  on  reform  in  road-repairs,  and  had  arranged  with  the  N.  C. 
U.  to  lay  a  specimen  road  in  Birmingham.  The  Council  voted  to  establish  life  memberships  at 
$26 ;  and  one  of  their  7  rules  about  the  same  provides  that  all  receipts  therefrom  shall  be  in- 
vested as  a  special  fund  under  4  trustees.  The  scheme  appeals  to  sentiment  rather  than  econ- 
omy, however,  as  shown  by  the  fact  that  a  roan  who  should  put  $25  in  the  P.  O.  Savings  Bank 
would  receive  62  c.  a  year,  by  which  he  might  pay  his  annual  C.  T.  C.  dues  and  still  retain  owner- 
ship in  th^  $25.  Mention  was  made  at  the  same  meeting  that  '*  the  club's  attempt  to  get  incor- 
porated without  the  word  '  limited,'  had  not  been  successful  before  the  Board  of  Trade  " ;  that 
the  club's  long-delayed  road-book  of  Great  Britain  would  be  issued  in  the  spring  of  '87 ;  and  that 
the  club  was  also  engaged  upon  a  road-book  of  the  Continent,  "  which  would  be  incomparably 
in  advance  of  anything  hitherto  attempted  in  that  line, — ^its  indefatigable  compiler,  S.  A.  Stead, 
C.  C.  of  the  General  Foreign  Division,  having  been  complimented  on  his  work  by  foreigpi  mem- 
bers, as  knowing  more  about  their  own  countries  than  they  did  themselves."  The  Secretary 
also  reported  that  Council  meetings  had  been  held  at  Manchester,  Edinburgh,  Carlisle,  Harro- 
gate, Dublin,  Shrewsbury,  London,  Newcastle,  Leicester,  Bristol,  and  Liverpool,  respectively, 
with  an  average  attendance  of  14}  per  meeting ;  and  that  this  perambulatory  plan  would  be  per- 
sisted in.  The  weakness  of  it  was  pointed  out  long  ago  (in  Dec.,  '84,  I  think)  by  Land  and 
tVaUTf  which  said  that,  as  regarded  the  last  12  meetings,  22  of  about  75  Councilors  had  attended 
only  once,  23  twice  and  15  thrice, — so  that  only  about  a  dozen  had  attended  a  third  or  more  of 
the  year's  meetings :  "  Yet  each  Council-meeting  is  supposed  to  be  supreme ;  and  one  great 
fault  is  that  each,  instead  of  keeping  itself  to  the  business  arising  in  its  own  district,  passes  reso- 
lutions affecting  the  most  remote  districts.  The  consequence  is  that  sometimes  a  resolution 
passed  at  one  Council  is  disowned  at  the  next  There  is  no  power  of  appeal,  except  under  very 
special  circumstances,  to  a  general  meeting.  The  confusion  which  has  thus  arisen  is  very  extraor- 
dinary. Councilors,  not  being  watched  by  any  executive,  do  acts  to  which  there  is  grave  objection. 
E.g.f  at  one  Council-meeting  it  was  resolved  that  no  Councilor  should  participate  directly  or  in- 
directly in  any  contract  which  the  Council  issued,  yet  within  a  few  weeks  another  Coundl 
gave  a  contract  worth  nearly  $2500  a  year  to  the  partner  of  one  of  their  body  who  was  present 
at  the  time.  Evidently,  the  leading  members  of  the  club  have  not  been  able  to  frame  a  suffi- 
ciently elastic  constitution  to  meet  its  present  growth."  At  present  these  evils  are  intensified,  for 
there  are  22,000  members,  nominally  governed  by  125  Councilors ;  yet  any  three  of  the  latter  who 
may  happen  to  form  a  majority  in  a  quorum  of  five,  can  commit  the  entire  C.  T.  C.  on  any  ques- 
tion or  policy  not  expressly  forbidden  by  its  70  rules.  Of  course,  under  such  an  irresponsible 
system,  the  Secretary  must  needs  be  the  real  executive  chief. 

The  influence  of  the  C.  T.  C.  upon  American  wheeling  is,  of  course,  a  purely  social  and 
sentimental  influence, — since  the  League  controls  all  practicable  arrangements  that  can  be  effi- 
ciently worked  for  the  encouragement  of  bicycle  touring  in  this  country.  I  recommend  every 
League  member  who  wishes  to  get  a  journal  which  can  tell  him  most  about  foreign  tours  and 
tourists,  at  least  expense,  to  join  the  C.  T.  C.  simply  for  the  sake  of  its  Gazette.  I  call  this  an 
interesting  and  valuable  paper,  in  spite  of  all  the  fun  poked  at  it  by  the  rival  trade-circulars 
which  chiefly  cater  to  the  racing  men,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  drivel  and  commonplace  which  it 
prints  for  "  filling."  Every  American  who  plans  to  do  any  riding  abroad  should  likewise  join 
the  club  for  the  sake  of  the  introduction  which  its  ticket  will  give  him  to  the  verbal  civilities  of 
the  consuls  who  may  be  found  in  nearly  every  large  town.  Besides  these  two  reasons,  member- 
ship in  the  American  Division  offers  the  social  reward  implied  in  attending  its  annual  conven- 
tion and  parade,  and  there  forming  the  acquaintance  of  a  somewhat  select  body  of  cyders,— 
"  select "  in  the  sense  that  most  of  them  are  enthusiasts  enough  to  pay  an  annual  tax  in  support 
of  the  mere  sentiment  of  "  international  good-fellowship,"  in  addition  to  paying  loyal  tribute  in 
support  of  the  League  at  home.  I  assume  that  most  of  them  are  I>eague  men,  though  I  do  not 
know  the  exact  proportion, — my  assumption  being  partly  based  upon  the  League  membership 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS.  643 

of  their  15  State  Consuls,  whose  geographical  distribution  is  as  follows  :  N.  H, — W.  V.  Gil- 
man,  Nashua.  Mass. — F.  A.  Pratt,  3  Somerset  St.,  Boston.  R.  /.--A.  G.  Carpenter,  a 
Westminster  st.,  Providence.  Ct. — F.  A.  Jackson,  608  Chapel  St.,  New  Haven.  N.  Y. — F. 
J.  Pool,  3  Broad  st.,  N.  Y.  N,  /.— L.  H.  Johnson,  East  Orange.  Pa.^V,  S.  Harris,  718 
Arch  St.,  Philadelphia.  M/i.-^S.  T.  Dark,  2  Hanover  st.,  Baltimore.  O. — ^Alfred  Ely,  873 
Prospect  St.,  Cleveland.  JO. — L.  W.  Conlding,  108  Madison  St.,  Chicago.  Mo. — W.  M. 
Brewster,  309  Olive  St.,  St.  Louis.  la. — S.  B.  Wright,  Oskaloosa.  IVis. — B.  K.  Miller,  102 
Wisconsin  St.,  Milwaukee.  Col. — Geo.  E.  Bittinger,  60S  Harrison  av.,  Leadville.  IVjfo. — C. 
P.  Wassung,  Rock  Springs.  These  State  Consuls  nominate  local  consuls  and  they  also  supply 
application-blanks  to  those  who  send  stamped  and  addressed  envelopes.  Each  candidate  who 
signs  such  a  blank  sends  it  with  ^i  to  the  Acting  Chief  Consul  (C.  H.  Potter,  99  Superior  st., 
Cleveland,  O.),  who  transmits  the  same  to  the  Secretary  in  England ;  and  the  renewal-fee  of 
later  years,  if  sent  in  the  same  way,  is75  c,  instead  of  62  c  These  facts  are  announced  in  each 
wsek's  Bi.  Worlds  together  with  the  names  and  addresses  of  officers  just  given ;  and  the  candi- 
dates for  membership  are  similarly  mentioned  there,  before  being  advertised  in  the  GassetU. 
This  plan  has  prevailed  for  more  than  two  years,  and  a  very  few  additions  have  been  made  to 
the  list  of  State  Consuls  during  that  period.  Previously,  the  Wheel  called  itself  the  club's 
"official  organ  in  America"  (June  6,  '82,  to  Feb.  29,  '84),  but  did  not  regularly  print  names; 
and  the  Canadian  Wheelman  has  inserted  a  similar  "honorary  adv."  of  itself,  as  "official 
organ  of  the  C.  T.  C.  in  Canada,"  ever  since  Oct.,  '84.  The  slight  hold  which  the  club  has 
gained  upon  that  country  is  chiefly  due  to  the  absence  of  any  such  enthusiast  as  the  one  who 
pushed  it  into  re€ognitia(i  in  the  United  States  :  namely,  F.  W.  Weston  (b.  July  14,  '43),  an 
Englishman  long  resident  in  Boston,  an  architect  by  training,  and  originator  of  ih.^  Am.  BL  ' 
Journal^  in  '77>  ^s  detailed  in  the  next  chapter  (see  pp.  655,  676).  He  was  the  earliest  Chief 
Consul  on  this  side  the  ocean,  and  still  nominally  retains  the  position,  though  a  serious  illness  in 
the  summer  of  '85  caused  a  transfer  of  its  duties  to  C.  H.  Potter  (b.  May  20,  '55),  Capt.  of  the 
Qeveland  T.  C.  and  Sec.  of  the  Cleveland  B.  C,  who  has  since  acted  in  his  stead.  I  believe 
Mr.  P.  was  the  earliest  American  R.  C.  of  the  Division, — his  predecessor  having  been  Lacy 
Hillier,  of  London,  while  E.  R.  Shipton  and  H.  Sturmey  served  in  previous  years. 

The  two  just  named  "  conjointly  devised  a  reciprocal  scheme  whereby  membership  in  the 
L.  A.  W.  should  entitle  the  Iiolder  ipso  facto  to  the  benefits  and  privileges  of  the  C.  T.  C.  when 
on  a  visit  to  England,  and  vice  versa.  The  premature  alteration  of  the  amateur  definition  in  the 
U.  S. ,  however,  dealt  the  project  its  death  blow  (*82),  and  I  do  not  know  that  at  the  present  time 
of  day  I  am  in  favor  of  recurring  to  the  principle  for  which  we  then  contended.  Yet  I  believe 
that  a  great  future  lies  before  the  C.  T.  C,  in  the  U.  S.,  if  only  an  efficient  corps  of  workers 
can  be  obtaftled  to  define  some  feasible  method  adapted  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  country." 
These  words  of  Mr.  S.  in  the  Gazette  were  reprinted  by  "  Faed,"  as  the  text  for  a  long  article 
{Bi.  tVorld,  May  15,  '85,  pp.  33-35),  which  aimed  to  show  that,  "instead  of  the  mere  scnti- 
mentalism  which  now  prompts  500  Americans  to  pay  small  annual  fees  to  the  C.  T.  C,"  a 
practical  plan  might  be  devised  for  levying  larger  amounts,  "  so  that  as  much  as  $250  a  year 
might  be  retained  by  the  Division  for  the  promotion  of  American  touring,  without  actually 
being  a  drain  upon  the  parent  body  in  England."  Of  the  same  date  (May  13,  '85)  was  the 
report  of  the  Division's  treasurer,  showing  that  $62.25  had  been  subscribed  by  15  members,  for 
the  erection  of  "  danger-boards  "  at  all  the  bad  hills  of  the  American  continent,  and  that  one  such 
board  had  in  fact  been  erected,  at  a  cost  of  $5.27.  The  comicality  of  this  attempt  to  "  do 
something  "  seems  intensified  by  the  fact  that  the  "  parent  body,"  with  a  revenue  of  more  than 
#20,000  in  *85,  appropriated  an  even  smaller  sum  {$$$)  for  the  erection  of  "  danger-boards  "  in 
England.  Furthermore,  the  League  has  an  efficient  system  of  supplying  stencils  for  sign-boards, 
and  whoever  may  wish  to  spend  money  in  that  way  can  spend  it  most  economically  under  League 
auspices.  "  But  it  is  a  mistake  for  the  League  to  pattern  after  the  practices  of  a  small  country  like 
England,  where  dangerous  hills  are  exceptional,"— just  as  it  is  a  mistake  for  the  League  to  copy 
the  *•  cheap  and  nasty  "  hotel-policy  of  the  C.  T.  C,  and  thus  give  vogue  to  the  wrong  idea 
that  American  tourists  are  a  beggarly  lot,  who  prefer  the  inferior  food  and  lodgings  implied  by 


644  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

"reduced  rates."  The  compiler  of  the  League's  "  Peon.  Road-Book"  rightly  says  :  "The 
natural  conditions  render  cycling  sign-posting  impracticable  in  this  country.  A  few  dangerous 
hills  on  the  most  traveled  suburban  roads,  and  a  £ew  forks  and  turns  where  habitual  mistakes 
are  made,  may  be  labeled  with  advantage ;  but,  in  general,  considering  the  immense  area  to  be 
covered  by  a  small  number  of  riders  and  volunteers,  the  placing  of  League  sign-boards  is  far 
less  desirable  than  the  publication  of  good  road*books."  The  same  writer  also  gave  vigoroui 
warning,  in  the  ist  ed.  of  his  book,  that  any  endeavor,  by  the  Bo8t;on  managers  of  the  C.  T.  C, 
to  advance  it  beyond  the  stage  of  mere  soda!  recognition,  and  use  it  as  a  practical  instrument 
"  to  usurp  the  government  of  touring  relations  in  the  U.  S.,"  would  be  resisted  to  the  uttermosL 
The  Bi.  Worlds  having  called  this  a  "  cowardly  attack,  which  must  \kvo%  upon  the  author  the 
contempt  of  every  fair-minded  man,"  because  "  the  country  has  ample  room  for  two  such  socie> 
ties,"  he  responded  by  quoting  from  its  columns  the  "  creed  "  which  fonned  the  final  paragraph 
in  the  report  written  by  Chief  Consul  Weston  to  the  annual  Division-meeting  at  Qeveland, 
May  x8,  '85,  thus  :  "  A  legislative  ^cling  dub  should  be  a  national  dub ;  but  a  merely  nationad 
oiganization  for  touring  purposes  is  a  waste  of  power.  A  touring  organization  to  be  thoroiq^y 
eflident  must  be  international.  This  little  world  of  ours  is  not  large  enough  for  more  than  one 
such  organization,  and  that  organization  is  and  should  be,  everywhere  and  always,  the  C.  T.  C." 
After  this  elegant  extract,  the  League's  defender  nailed  up,  as  an  opposing  "  creed  "  the  fol- 
lowing neat  paraphrase :  "  A  legislative  cyding  dub  should  be  a  State  club  with  a  national 
backing.  A  touring  oiganization  to  be  thoroughly  effident,  must  be  a  State  organization  with 
national  oversight.  This  little  America  of  ours  is  not  large  enough  for  more  than  one  organi* 
zation,  and  that  organization. is,  and  shall  be,  everywhere  and  always,  in  its  own  territory,  the 
L.  A.  W."  These  words  seem  to  me  to  formulate  the  almost  universal  belief  of  touring  wheel- 
men in  America,  and  I  think  they  put  an  effectual  quietus  on  the  visionary  sdiemes  of  those 
who  professed  to  believe  that  no  arrangements  to  hdp  such  touring  could  be  "  thoroughly  efll* 
dent "  unless  supervised  by  some  shadowy  authority  in  London.  However  hard  it  may  be,  for 
an  American  who  has  much  sense  of  humor,  to  accept  such  professions  as  seriously  intended, 
it  is  a  matter  of  record  that  Mr.  Weston  devoted  most  of  the  long  report  just  mentioned  to  ex- 
plaining his  scheme  fora  "  reformed  C.  T.  C,  composed  of  self-governing  Divisions,  and  really 
embradng  the  world  "  (Ji.  fV.,  May  29,  '85,  p.  80).  As  one  of  a  committee  of  5,  appointed  at 
a  Council-meeting  at  Leeds,  in  Aug.,  '83,  "  to  consider  such  changes  in  its  laws  as  might  en- 
hance the  international  features  of  the  club,"  he  said  the  committee  had  delayed  reporting,  to 
await  the  action  of  the  American  Division,  and  he  uiged  it  to  act  at  onoe.  How  the  advice 
was  followed  is  shown  by  this  extract  from  the  Bt.  WorhPi  review  of  the  year,  Jan.  i,  '86  : 
*'  A  committee  was  appointed  in  May,  to  devise  a  plan  for  some  systematic  C.  T.  C.  work  in 
America,  but  has  not  yet  met.  The  sign-board  fund  is  now  $56.98,  the  same  a^then."  I  do 
not  think  the  fund  will  ever  grow  any  larger,  or  that  any  further  attempt  will  be  made  to 
"  develop "  the  C.  T.  C.  in  America,  outside  the  strictly  social  lines  to  which  the  nature  of 
things  confines  its  growth.  Whoever  sincerely  wishes  to  help  the  cause  of  touring  here  can 
work  most  effectively  through  the  League ;  and  no  attempt  to  supersede  this  by  an  inferior 
foreign  machine  for  going  over  the  same  ground  and  accomplishing  the  same  results,  will  ever 
be  supported  by  practical  Americans. 

"  The  B.  T.  C.  Handbook  "  of  Apr.,  *8a,  mentioned  S.  A.  Auty,  of  Bradford,  as  Secretary, 
and  I  believe  his  immediate  predecessor  was  W.  D.  Welford,  of  Newcastle,  but  the  earliest  of 
all  was  S.  J.  A.  Cotterell.  One  of  the  committee  of  three  who  prepared  the  '82  book  was  the 
present  Sec,  E.  R.  Shipton,  who  I  think  assumed  the  office  in  Sept.,  '82  (seep.  691).  The 
present  Hon.  Treas.  is  W.  B.  Gumey,  of  Bradford,  re-elected.  The  handbook  of  Apr.,  »86, 
catalogued  the  Coundl,  whose  annual  term  began  then,  as  consisting  of  61  Representative 
Coundlors  (with  none  named  for  7  Divisions)  and  54  Chief  Consuls.  These  officers  were 
arranged  in  two  lists  and  in  the  order  of  their  Divisions ;  but  I  present  them  now  (except  a  C 
C's  since  resigned)  in  a  single  alphabetical  list,  together  with  5  additional  R.C.'s,  and  5  C.  CH 
named  in  the  Oct.  Gasettt.  The  34th  rule,  which  says  the  R.  C's  "  shall  appoint  a  C.  C.  for 
each  Division,"  is  modified  somewhat  by  Rule  63,  which  allows  the  Coundl  to  appoint  addi- 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS.  645 

tiooal  C  C.'s  tod  R.  C.'a.;  and  they  have  this  year  appointed  additional  C.  C.'a  for  eadi  of  10 
Divisions  (sub-divided  by  county  lines),  thus  raising  the  total  irotn  37  to  57.  In  the  following 
list,  the  star  is  prefixed  to  C.  C.'s,  and  the  bracketed  Division-numerals  to  those  6  English  R. 
C's  who  stand  for  Foreign  Divisions.  Towns  outside  of  England  are  followed  by  italics.  Ac- 
cording  to  precedent,  the  great  majority  of  this  Council  will  be  re>elected  and  re-appointed  in 
'87  and  later  years  : 

*Adams,  T.  S.,  Mold,  Flint;  Altbutt,  (Dr.)  H.  A.,  24  Park  sq.,  Leeds,  Scot.  ;  ^Andrews, 
C.  H.,  4a  Brandenbuigh  rd.,  Gunnersbury;  Atkinson,  Jasper,  Woodland  Grove,  Newton  id., 
Leeds;  •Bartram,  G.,  Thomhill  Park,  Sunderland;  Bashall,  H.  St.  J.  H.,  21  Holland  Villas 
rd.,  Kensington;  *Bingham,  C.  H.,  39  Catharynesingel,  Utrecht,  Hoi.;  *Bradney,  J.,  6  Oak 
St.,  Wolverhampton  ;  *Brooke,  (Lieut. -Col.)  C.  K.,  66  Kimbleton  rd.,  Bedford;  Bryson,  R. 
S.,  7  Warrender  Park,  Crescent,  Edinburgh,  Scot.  ;  •Buik,  E.  G.,  West  Park,  Wick,  Scoi.; 
*Bum,  John,  Victoria  Park,  Forres,  Scot.  ;  *Bumett,  W.  Kendall,  133^^  Union  St.,  Aberdeen, 
Scot.  ;  Caldcleugh,  C,  38  Silver  St.,  Durham ;  Close,  J.  C,  5  Lavender  rd.,  Barboume, Worces- 
ter; Cook,  R.,  White  House  Farm,  Chelmsford;  Cooper,  F.  G.,  South  wick  Lodge,  Wood- 
vale,  Forest  Hill;  *Cooper,  (Rev.)  E.  B.,  Uffington  Rectory,  Stamford;  Couch,  R;  P.,  at 
Chapel  St.,  Penzance ;  Courtney,  G.  H.  W.,  Rutland  House,  The  Grove,  Stratford;  Cousens, 
H.  J.,  Buckhurst  Hill,  Essex ;  Craigie,  (Maj.)  J.  H.  S.,  aa  The  Terrace,  York  Town,  Fam- 
borough,  Hants;  Crawshay,  De  Banri,  Rosefields,  Sevenoaks;  *Curtin,  J.  F.,  Mucknish 
Castle,  Oranmore,  Ir«.;  Davies  G.,  Lake  Vale,  Alderly  E^e,  Cheshire ;  *De  Baronoelli,  A.  (b. 
Apr.  5,  '5a),  x8  Rue  Roqu^pin,  Paris,  Fr.  ;  *De  Ligne,  Ernest  M.,  38  Boulevard  du  Jardin 
Botanique,  Brussels,  Belg.  ;  ^Edwards,  A.  W.,  Gl.  Kongevej,  Copenhagen,  Den.  ;  Evans,  G. 
H.,  8  Alma  rd.,  Sheemess-on-Sea ;  Evans,  J.  A.,  Lennard  rd.,  Penge,  Surrey ;  Farrar,  (Dr.)  J., 
8  Queen's  Terrace,  Morecambe;  *Farrington,  Thos.,  4  Waterloo  pi.,  Cork,  Irt. ;  Feldtmann, 
R.  W.,  Femlea,  Kelvinside,  Glasgow,  Scot. ;  Frazer,  H.,  30  Wellesley  rd.,  Liverpool ;  ^Fuller, 
A.  E.,  Shelbume  Villa,  Lansdown,  Bath;  Gadd,  H.  E.,  Coalbrookdale,  Iron  Works,  Shrop- 
shire; *Gibb,  F.  W.,  Drumearn  Terrace,  53  Grange  Loan,  Edinbuigh,  J<:0/.  ;  *Groom,  Clem- 
ent, Fairfield,  Wellington,  Salop;  Harris,  E.  C,  6  Endless  St.,  Salisbury;  *Hart,  L.,  5  Rue 
Dupetit-Thouars,  Saumur,  Fr. ;  Hay,  A.  Hermitage,  Restalrig  rd.,  Leith,  Scot. ;  Heard, 
Stanley,  Deronda  House,  Swansea ;  *  Herbert,  (Rev.)  G.,  Cowlam  Rectory,  nr.  York ;  **Hesk- 
eth,  W.  T.,  367  Moss  Lane  East,  Manchester;  *HiIdebrand,  jr.,Th.,  Opemgasse,  a  Vienna, 
Aust. ;  *HiIls,  A.  J.,  Market  sq.,  Biggleswade;  Hinchcli£Ee,  B.,  Alma  Villa,  Uttoxeter 
New  rd.,  Derby;  Hogg,  J.  R.,  10  Alma  pi.,  North  Shields;  *Hughes,  O.  R.,  363  High  St., 
Bangor;  *Illingworth,  A.,  4  Merton  rd.,  Bradford;  [33]  Ingall,  G.  D.,  ix  Burlington  Gardens, 
Acton,  London,  W. ;  Johnson,  John,  34  George  sq.,  Glasgow,  Scot. ;  *Johnson,  R.,  aS  Trinity 
Coll.,  Dublin,  Ire.  ;  *Jones,  E.  L.  R.,  91  Ledbury  rd.,  Bayswater,  London,  W. ;  *Jones,  W. 
W.,  Mantua  House,  Festiniog,  Merioneth;  Ken  worthy,  J.  W.,  Hurst  Hall,  Ashton-under- 
Tyne;  *Knight,  J.  N.,  Market  pi..  Wells,  Somerset;  Knox-Holmes,  (Maj.)  F.,  no  a.,  Gros- 
venor  rd.,  Pimlico ;  Laing,  J.  H.  A.,  19  West  Claremont  St.,  Edinburgh,  Scot. ;  Leeson,  A.  J., 
185  Aston  Lane,  Birmingham;  *Lennox,  J.,  Eden  Bank,  Dumfries,  Scot.;  *Locket,  G.  C, 
Thornton  Lea,  Nicoll  rd.,  Harlesden,  London,  N.  W. ;  L<^n,  W.  T.,  4  Park  Terrace,  Cross- 
hill,  Glasgow,  Scot. ;  *Luke,  J.,  31  Merchiston  Pk.,  Edinburgh,  Scot,  ;  [34]  Maddox,  C.  R., 
Lynton  Holmdale  rd..  West  Hampstead,  London,  N*.  W. ;  Mason,  S.  B.,  76  Lowgate,  Hull ; 
Mecredy,  R.  J.,  Marlborough  rd.,  Dublin,  Ir*. ;  [31]  Meyer,  H.,  11  Copthall  Court,  Thrc^- 
morton  St.,  London,  E.  C. ;  [37]  Mills,  F.  W.,  Thomleigh,  Huddersfield ;  *Mitchell,  G.  T., 
4  Donegal  sq..  East,  Belfast,  Ire.  ;  *Monk,  R.  Rugg,  36  Frankfort  St.,  Plymouth;  Morley, 
(Dr.)  F.,  45  High  St.,  Portsmouth;  •Morris,  C.  Outram,  Tain,  Scot.  ;  Nunn,  C.  H.,  34  West- 
gate  St.,  Bury  St.  Edmunds  ;  •Oliver,  C.  £.,  Elms  House,  Derby;  Ord,  W.  E.,  33  Bairstow 
St.,  Preston;  Pattison,  J.,  3  Castle  Terrace,  High  Wycombe;  Perkins,  A.  B.,  The  Forge, 
Bradford;  [33I  Peterkin,  E.,  Linlithgow,  Scot.  ;^  Petter,  S.,  Eason  Terrace,  Yeovil;  Phillips, 
R.  E.,  Rochelle,  Selhurst  rd.,  South  Norwcxni,  London,  S.  E. ;  Potter,  C.  H.,  99  Superior  St., 
Oeveland.O.^  U.  S.A.  ;  'Powell,  (Dr.)  F.  Hillbank,  Red  Hill,  Surrey ;  •Ranken,  (Rev.)  C.  E., 
Sc  Ronao's,  Malvern ;  Robbins,  C,  Dunkerque  House,  South  Gate,  Gloucester;  •Roberts, 


646         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

H.  Croydon,  Boyne  Hotisei  Notting  Hill,  London,  W. ;  Roberts,  R.,  la  Victoria  Chambers, 
Leeds;  ^Robinson,  T.,  36  Waterloo  pi..  North  Shields;  Roylance,  F.  W.,  ai  Cannon  St., 
Manchester;  *RuQiney,  A.  W.,  Keswick;  [30]  Rutter,  G.  U.,  Glenhyrst,  Prince's av.,  Liver- 
pool; *Saveall,  W.  J.,  37  Marsham  st.,  Maidstone;  *Savile,  (Maj.)  A.  R.,  Royal  Military 
Coll.,  Famborough  Station;  •Searle,  G.  F.  C,  St  Peter's  Coll.,  Cambridge;  Sherriff.  E.  J., 
Holly  House,  Mortlake;  Sherriff,  H.  H.,  Holly  House,  Mortlake  ;  Sider,  C.  J.,  ia3  George 
St.,  Edinburgh,  Scot.;  Simpson,  (Col.)  R.,  Salisbury,  The  Orchard,  Portishead,  Somerset; 
*Smith,  Albert,  Wilton  Park  Farm,  North  Walsham ;  Stacpoole-Westropp,  (Dr.)  W.  H.,  Lis- 
doonvama,  Ennis,  Ire.  ;  *Stead,  S.  A.,  19  Tabley  rd.,  Holloway,  London,  N. ;  Stoner,  C.  B., 
145  Western  rd.,  Brighton ;  Stoney,  Gerald,  9  Palmerston  Pk.,  Dublin,  /rv.  ;  *Thomas,  J.  M., 
3  Market  St.,  Penryn ;  ^Thomson,  A.  Scarlett,  The  Lilies,  Upper  Richmond  rd.,  Putney, 
London,  S.  W. ;  *Tibbs,  H.  S.,  36  Union  av.,  Montreal,  P.  Q.,  Can.;  Tobias,  H.  A.,  25 
Ullet  rd.^  Liverpool ;  •Townson,  T.  W.,  Hutton  Dene,  Bowdon,  Cheshire ;  •Turrell,  W.  J., 
Turrell's  Hall,  Oxford;  Ure,  W.  P.,  Caimdhu,  Helensburgh;  Varley,  J.  L.,  52  Holgate 
Terrace,  York;  Wade-Gery,  A.  J.,  Compton  Grange,  Shefford;  Walker,  (Capt.)  £.,  Rock 
House,  Cromford,  Derby ;  *  Walker,  T.  H.  S.,  87  Zimmer-strasse,  Berlin,  W.,  Ger.  ;  Warner, 
F.  H.,  The  Labumams,  Redditch;  Waymouth,  H.,  Flora  Villa,  Hanwell ;  *Wenley,  R.  M., 
10  Hamilton  Pk.  Terrace,  Hillhead,  Glasgow,  Scot.  ;  *Weston,  F.  W.,  Savin  Hill,  Boston, 
Mass*,  [/.  S.  A.  ;  Whatton,  J.  S.,  9  Somers  pi.,  Hyde  Pk.,  London,  W. ;  •Wigglesworth,  J., 
Long  Row,  Nottingham;  *  Woods,  J.  C,  i  Worcester  pi.,  Swansea;  Wright,  John,  iig  Stone 
St.,  Newcastle-on-Tyne ;  *  Young,  J.  B.,  a  Teviot  Terrace,  Kelvinside,  Glasgow,  Scot. ;  Young, 
T.  S.,  97  Budianan  st,  Glasgow,  Sect. 


it  I 


The  National  Cyclists'  Union,"  according  to  an  official  leaflet  dated  Jan.,  '85,  "is  the 
ruling  body  in  all  branches  of  cycling  throughout  the  United  Kingdom.  It  is  intimately  allied 
with  the  C.  T.  C,  the  Am.  Athletic  Ass'n,  and  the  Swimming  Ass'n  of  Great  Britain.  The 
work  of  the  Union  is  carried  on  by  a  Council  of  Delegates,  which  is  elected  by  the  members, 
and  meets  quarterly ;  and  by  an  Executive  Committee,  which  meets  weekly,  and  whose  action 
is  fully  reported  in  the  press  each  week  under  the  heading :  '  N.  C.  U.  Executive  Report.' 
It  has,  throughout  England  and  Scotland,  branches — or  Local  Centers — ^which  afford  to  each 
district  the  advantages  of  local  self-government,  subject  to  the  guidance  of  the  General  Executive, 
and  it  already  possesses  a  membership  of  many  thousands.  The  11  Local  Centers,  with  the 
Sec-Treas.  of  each,  are  named  alphabetically  as  follows  :  Btrmingkam^  J.  P.  Derrington,  53 
Union  Passage ;  Brighton^  H.  J.  Gimblette,  106  Church  rd.,  W. ;  Bristoly  Geo.  Ashmeaid, 
Glenthome,  Alma  Vale  rd.,  Clifton ;  Devon  and  Cormoaii^  F.  Blanchard,  33  Bedford  st 
(Plymouth) ;  Dorset^  R.  R.  Case,  Dorsetshire  Bank  (Bridport) ;  EtUnburgh,  J.  Drummond, 
W.  S..  16  Duke  st ;  Glasgow^  R.  M.  Wenley,  10  Hamilton  Park  Terrace,  Hillhead  ;  Liver- 
pool y  H.  Holt,  21  Mulgrave  st ;  Manchester,  T.  Marriott,  Halliwell  Terrace,  Trafford  rd.  (Sal- 
ford);  Newceulle,  J.  Wright,  118  Stone  st. ;  Nottingham,  S.  Morley,  Houndsgate."  Several 
of  these  have  doubtless  chosen  new  officers  in  the  two  annual  elections  since  held.  Thus,  ac- 
cording to  "  Young's  Cyclists'  Guide  "  (June,  '86),  L.  Fletcher,  of  the  Grange,  Edge  Lane,  is 
now  Sec.-Treas.  of  the  Liverpool  L.  C,  which  has  a  total  membership  of  about  1050,  comprising 
22  clubs  and  about  100  of  the  unattached.  For  some  years  past,  the  President  of  the  Union  has 
been  "the  Rt.  Hon.  Viscount  Bury,  P.  C,  K.  C.  M.  G.,  of  Quidenham  Hall  "  (b.  about  1835), 
the  Secretary,  Robert  Todd  (b.  1847)}  and  the  Treasurer,  A.  R.  Sheppee.  In  June,  '8a,  those 
respective  offices  were  held  by  G.  F.  Cobb,  W.  P.  English,  and  T.  E.  Scrutton, — ^the  Pres.  and 
Treas.  both  belonging  to  the  Camb.  Univ.  B.  C.  Of  the  16  men  then  serving  on  the  Executive 
Committee,  only  2  (shown  by  *)  were  elected  to  the  present  board,  who  are  named  as  follows,  in 
the  order  of  votes  received  (Jan.  28,  '86,  ranging  in  number  from  92  to  61) :  M.  D.  Rucker,  J.  S. 
Whatton,  H.  H.  Griffin,  E.  S.  Wallis  Roberts,  J.  H.  Price,  (Maj.-Gen.)  L.  R.  Christopher,  W. 
F.  Sutton,  G.  H.  Green,  G.  P.  Coleman,  R.  E.  Phillips,  F.  G.  Dray,  A.  Prout,*  R.  L.  Philpot, 
E.  R.  Shipton,*  H.  R.  Reynolds,  H.  E.  J.  Irons.    At  about  this  time,  the  central  office  of  the 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS.  647 

Union,  in  London,  was  moved  to  57  Basinghall  St.,  £.  C|£roni  17  Ironmonger  Lane  where  it  had 
been  for  at  least  4  years.  The  club  was  founded  in  '78,  as  the  "  Bicycle  Union,"  and.adopted 
its  present  name  June  14,  '83,  after  absorbing  the  "  Tricycle  Association,"  in  Mar.,  '82.  The  lat- 
ter should  not  be  confounded  with  "  that  abortive  butt  of  cycling  politics  known  as  the '  Tricycle 
Union,'  "  whose  brief  history  was  detailed  by  "  Faed  "  in  the  Whetl  fVor/d(Dec.,  *84),  show- 
ing how  certain  elderly  malcontents  of  the  T.  A.,  who  objected  to  its  absorption  by  the  B.  U., 
started  the  T.  U. ,  in  hostility  to  the  latter,  with  the  hope  of  robbing  it  of  all  jurisdiction  over  tricy- 
cltBg.  The  earliest  notable  act  of  the  T.  U.  showed  an  animus  which  ought  to  make  its  memory 
hateful  to  all  liberal-minded  wheelmen, — for  it  sent  a  deputation  to  the  officer  controlling  the 
London  parks,  praying  that  tricycles  be  allowed  the  privileges  thereof,  but  that  bicycles  should  be 
excluded.  Yet  the  B.  U.  was  at  the  same  time  trying  to  get  equal  rights  granted  there  for  all  cy- 
clers, without  regard  to  the  style  of  wheels  they  used ;  and  this  effort  succeeded  in  '83.  The  T. 
U.'s  first  president  was  Lord  Bury,  "  who  consented  to  serve  for  the  avowed  ptirpose  of  bringing 
about  an  amalgamation  with  the  B.  U." ;  but  when  he  had  got  the  name  of  this  changed  to  N.  C. 
U.,  the  T.  U.  refused  to  "  tumble  " ;  and  so  he  gave  it  up  in  disgust,  and  became  the  former's 
president.  Dr.  B.  W.  Richardson,  who  was  secured  as  a  successor,  showed  no  special  sym- 
pathy for  the  T.  U.'s  hostility  to  bicycling,  and,  after  some  vague  talk  about  exalting  it  by 
"  higher  aims,"  soon  brought  forward  a  scheme  for  merging  it  in  "  a  high  class  association  for 
scientific  study,"  to  be  called  "  The  Society  of  Cyclists."  Rather  than  see  the  T.  U.  die  out- 
right, its  luckless  founders  (who  did  not  care  to  face  public  ridicule  any  longer)  consented  to. 
the  transformation;  but  few  actively  allied  themselves  to  the  "scientific  gents,  whose  sub- 
sequent proceedings  interested  them  no  more."  IVheeiingol  June  9,  '66,  mentioned  briefly 
and  rather  scoffingly  that,  during  the  past  week.  Dr.  R.  had  presided  over  a  "  congress  "  of  his 
society,  at  Colchester,  "  where  a  series  of  most  interesting  and  instructive  papers  were  read." 

The  N.  C.  U.'s  "  objects  "  are  thus  defined  in  the  leaflet  already  quoted  :  "  (i)  To  ensure 
equitable  administration  of  justice  as  regards  cyclers'  rights  on  the  public  roads.  (2)  To  watch 
th^  course  of  any  legislative  proposals  in  Parliament  or  elsewhere,  affecting  cycling  interests, 
and  make  such  representations  as  the  occasion  may  demand.  (3)  To  obtain  a  more  reasonable 
tariff  for  the  conveyance  of  cycles  by  rail,  and  greater  security.  (4)  To  frame  definitions  and 
recommend  rules  about  cycle  racing,  and  arrange  for  annual  race  meetings  at  which  the  amateur 
championships  shall  be  decided.  (5)  To  watch  and  urge  the  action  of  the  road  authorities,  with 
a  view  to  the  more  efficient  supervision  and  maintenance  of  the  roads  throughout  the  United 
Kingdom."  This  fifth  "object"  has  been  added  since  '82,  and  I  quote  its  formula  exactly, 
though  condensing  the  verbiage  of  the  previous  ones.  "  The  Union  offers  aid  in  all  matters 
relating  to  rights  of  way,  unlawful  obstruction,  gate-tolls,  assaults,  and  other  legal  matters.  It 
takes  active  steps  to  have  dangerous  sewer-gratings  put  in  order  or  removed.  In  cases  where 
local  authorities  are  proposing  to  pass  restrictive  by-laws,  the  Union  gives  local  riders  every 
assistance  in  having  those  by-laws  rendered  as  little  burdensome  to  cycling  as  may  be."  "  Cop- 
ies of  the  N.  C.  U.  racing  rules  may  be  obtained  gratis,  on  application  to  the  Sec,  and  all  amateur 
cycling  races  must  be  held  in  accordance  with  them.'*  "The  Union  shall  consist  of  cycle  clubs, 
unattached  riders,  individual  club  members,  makers  of  cycles,  and  such  other  interested  persons 
as  may  be  willing  to  join.  Each  club  shall  be  entitled  to  a  Delegate,  and  to  a  second  one  if  it 
have  50  members,  and  to  a  third  one  if  it  have  100  members,  and  so  on.  The  manufacturers 
shall  be  entitled  to  3  Delegates,  elected  on  voting-papers  arranged  by  the  Executive.  The 
other  members  shall  be  entitled  to  a  Delegate  for  every  25  who  combine  for  such  representation. 
All  subscriptions  paid  between  Jan.  i  to  Apr.  30  shall  constitute  membership  till  Apr.  30  of  th« 
ensuing  year, — the  clubs  paying  25  c.  for  each  of  their  men,  and  all  others  paying  63  c.  Tho 
Delegates  form  a  Council  (the  Chairman  and  Secretary  of  each  Local  Center  also  being  members 
of  it,  ex  officio)^  and  elect  a  President  and  a  permanent  committee  called  the  Executive,  con- 
sisting of  Sec,  Treas.,  and  16  others,  of  whom  5  may  form  a  quorum,  and  whose  meetings  shall 
be  held  weekly.  Council-meetings  shall  be  held  on  the  second  Thursdays  of  Mar.,  June,  Oct. 
and  Dec.  ;  and  any  one  of  the  Executive  who  shall  be  absent  from  all  its  meetings  between  any 
two  Council-meetings  (1.  /.,  3  mos.),  shall  thereby  vacate  his  seat    The  Executive  shall  fill  its 


648  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

own  Tacandes,  after  doe  notice  to  each  member,  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  next  CounciU 
meeting.  Extra  meetings  of  the  Council  may  be  called,  at  a  fortnight's  notice,  either  by  itself,  or 
by  the  Executive,  or  by  requisition  of  10  Delegates ;  and  the  Executive  may,  at  a  fortnight's 
notice,  order  the  omission  of  a  regular  meeting.  Any  person  may  attend  these  meetings  as  a 
spectator,  provided  there  be  room,  and  provided  the  Council  does  not  vote  to  exclude  all  but 
Delegates.  Twenty  of  these  shall  form  a  quorum  ;  and,  in  the  absence  of  the  President,  each 
meeting  shall  elect  a  chairman,  who  shall  have  unlimited  authority, — no  appeal  from  his  rulings 
being  possible  except  to  a  special  meeting, — and  who  shall  have  the  right  to  speak  and  vote  pn 
every  motion,  and  shall  also  have  a  casting  vote  in  case  of  a  tie.  Any  person  aggrieved  by 
action  of  a  Local  Center  may  appeal  to  the  Executive,  and  from  it  to  the  Coundl.  The  Execu* 
ttve  shall  have  full  power  over  all  proceedings  of  the  L.  C.'s,  including  their  dissolution  if  nec- 
essary, subject  to  an  appeal  to  the  CounciL  The  Sec-Treas.  of  each  L.  C.  after  receiving 
from  the  clubs  an9  unattached  belonging  thereto  the  Union  membership-fees  shall  retain  half 
for  local  use,  and  remit  the  rest  to  a  designated  member  of  the  Executive,  for  general  use  by 
the  Union.  E^ch  L.  C.  shall  elect  at  least  2  Delegates  to  the  Council,  and  an  additional  one 
for  every  complete  50  members  beyond  the  first  50, — but  the  clubs  thus  represented  of  a>urae 
surrender  their  original  right  of  electing  Delegates  directly ;  and  these  need  not  be  members  of 
the  dubs  or  L.  C.'s  which  elect  them.  A  L.  C.  may  be  voted  a  money-grant  by  the  Executive 
after  a  week's  written  notice  to  each  of  its  members.  Each  L.  C.  is  expected  to  supervise  the 
race  meetings  of  its  district,  mcrease  the  membership,  erect  danger-boards,  and  work  against 
repressive  legislation  by  local  authorities ;  but  all  legal  cases,  and  questions  as  to  '  amateurs,' 
must  be  referred  to  the  Executive."  The  amateur  definition  has  already  been  given,  on  p.  63X. 
I  have  condensed  the  foregoing  from  an  official  pamphlet  (Ili£Ees,  28  pp.)  dated  June,  '82  ; 
but  it  is  not  likely  that  any  of  the  quoted  rules  have  since  been  essentially  changed.  A  writer  in 
Wheeling  of  Dec  11,  '84,  declared  that  the  N.  C.  U.  work  had  grown  too  large  to  be  carried 
on  much  longer  by  honorary  officers,  without  salaries,  and  added  :  "I  am  one  who  has  long 
foreseen  the  eventual  amalgamation  of  the  C.  T.  C.  and  N.  C.  U.,  and  consider  that  the  wheel- 
ing world  would  benefit  considerably  thereby;  "  but  no  movement  in  that  direction  seems  yet 
to  have  been  attempted.  The  same  paper  of  Mar.  24,  '86,  said  :  "  The  N.  C.  U.'s  financial 
statement  for  the  year  '85  is  eminently  satisfactory  and  creditable,  showing  a  balance  of  $2809, 
including  the  reserve  fund  of  $1480.  The  Local  Centers  also  have  balances  as  follows  : 
Birmingham,  $129;  Brighton,  $27;  Bristol,  $37;  Glasgow,  $76;  Liverpool  (incl.  grant  of 
I135),  $152;  Manchester,  %\^\  Newcastle,  $92;  Nottingham,  ;|9;  Portsmouth,  |i8;  York- 
shire, $23.  Only  the  Edinburgh  L.  C.  appears  on  the  debit  side  ($43),  though  the  Devon  and 
Cornwall  L.  C.  does  not  appear  to  trouble  about  accounts."  Six  months  later,  Wheeling  ^vn^ 
a  different  song,  thus  (Oct.  6,  p.  406) :  "  The  N.  C.  U.  is  penniless.  That  is  the  honme  boucke 
of  a  fact  which  the  Executive  has  just  presented  to  us  in  the  shape  of  an  announcement  stowed 
away  in  a  comer  of  the  current  issue  of  the  N.  C.  U.  Review.  The  championships  of  '86,  in- 
stead of  resulting  in  a  handsome  profit  to  the  Union,  as  they  have  done  in  previous  years,  and 
as  they  should  have  done  this  season,  have  been  the  means  of  involving  that  body  in  a  loss  of 
no  less  a  sum  than  $750, — thus  swallowing  up  the  annual  subscriptions  of  3000  club-men.  The 
reserve  fund  still  remains  [$1743] ;  but  there  has  been  gross  mismanagement  somewhere.  The 
idea  of  $750  loss,  on  such  racing  as  we  have  had  this  year,  is  too  wicked  for  words.  As  proof 
that  we  speak  by  the  book  when  we  say  that  this  conversion  of  income  into  loss  is  unnecessary, 
we  hereby  offer,  on  behalf  of  Harry  Etherington,  to  pay  to  the  Union  $500,  in  consideration  of 
his  being  allowed  to  farm  next  year's  championships  of  the  N.  C.  U.,  with  the  same  men  to  ride, 
and  all  the  nonsense  and  flummery  of  the  past  season,  with  its  twelfth  hour  suspensions,  swept 
away."  Thus  is  introduced  an  argument  to  prove  that  the  Union  must  either  abandon  its  pre- 
tended function  of  social  censor, — ^must  cease  giving  any  further  support  to  the  roaring  farce 
called  *•  Amateurism,"— or  else  must  be  torn  in  pieces  by  the  horns  of  an  unavoidable  dilemma. 
"  At  the  very  moment  when  the  hearty  support  of  all  the  clubs  will  be  necessary  to  help  the 
Union  out  of  its  difikulty,  the  Executive  find  themselves  forced  by  the  pressure  of  public  opin. 
ion  to  throw  aside  their  long  sloth,  and  deal  with  their  so-called  '  amateurism/— thus  raising  a 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS.  649 

•tonn  at  onoe,  and  randering  it  unlikdy  that  the  neocstary  funds  will  be  lortiicoming.  If  the 
Union  is  to  be  respected,  it  must  publish  its  edicts  and  not  shrink  from  its  responsibilities.  For 
this  purpose,  it  must  be  thoroughly  backed,  financially  and  morally,  by  its  clieniiU,  And  here^s 
the  rub.  There  are  too  many  crying  evils,  interesting  to  the  Don-radng  thousands  of  the  Union, 
to  justify  their  money  being  thrown  away  in  fighting  perhaps  a  firm  naturally  incensed  that  the 
promateur  in  their  employ  has  been  taken,  and  the  promateur  in  another  employ  left.*'  This 
latter  phrase  alludes  to  probable  libel-suits,  brought  in  behalf  of  "  suspends,"  whose  names  may 
be  officially  "  pilloried  for  the  sentimental  and  certainly  not  moral  offense  of  promateurism." 
U^keeling  9Ay%  that  if  the  N.  C.  U.  Executive  would  only  have  courage  enough  to  suspend  and 
publish  the  names  of  racers  who  have  "  roped  "(£«.,  sold  out  for  bets)  or  "  swindled  clubs  out 
of  entry  fees,"  with  the  connivance  of  the  Local  Centers,  "it  would  gladly  start  a  defense 
fund  "  to  protect  them  from  the  libel-suits  of  such  sinners ;  but  that,  if  they  get  into  trouble  by 
trying  to  bolster  up  so  sorry  a  fraud  as  "  amateurism,"  "  it  will  strenuously  oppose  the  voting 
of  any  money  for  them  from  the  reserve  fund," — a  fund  laborioiuly  accumulated  by  voluntary 
subscriptions,  "  to  enable  the  Union  more  effectually  to  take  legal  proceedings  for  the  protection  of 
riders,  and  for  other  purposes. "  Whttling  will  also  oppose  any  attempt  to  increase  the  member- 
ship-fees from  S5  c.  to  6a  c.,  "  for  many  of  the  clubs  are  themselves  run  on  fees  of  only  ^1.35  " ; 
and  urges  that  a  proper  device  for  raising  money  is  to  establish  a  racing  register,  with  an  annual 
entrance-fee  of  $1.35,  and  thus  force  all  the  racers  to  help  pay  for  the  trouble  taken  in  their 
behalf.  It  says  that  this  has  been  done,  hitherto,  only  by  the  "  fliers,"  whose  presence  at  the 
championship  meetings  has  produced  the  gate-money  which  has  kept  the  N.  C  U.  alive ;  and 
it  condemns  the  special  meanness  of  enforcing  the  "  amateur  rule  "  against  these  men  at  the 
end  of  the  season,  after  "  plajring  them  for  all  they  were  worth  "  before  the  public,  instead  of 
at  the  outset  of  the  season,  when  the  proofs  of  their  offenses  against  "  amateurism  "  were  just 
exactly  as  complete  and  well-known. 

'*  At  the  spring  Council-meeting  of  '86,  all  parties  were  agreed  that  a  time  had  arrived  when 
one  of  two  roads  must  be  taken  *,— that  the  existing  anomalies  of  amateurism  must  come  to  an 
end — that  the  law  must  either  be  enforced  or  abolished.  By  a  practically  unanimous  vote,  the 
Council  declared  in  favor  of  enforcing  it ;  and  undertook  the  impossible  task  of  transforming  a 
sham  into  a  reality.  Why,  then,  did  they  re-instate  all  the  suspected  riders  within  a  week  after 
suspending  them?  Because  they  absolutely  did  not  dare  to  face  the  consequences  of  a  rigid 
adhesion  to  their  edicts.  If  they  are  suspending  men  now,  it  is  only  because,  having  served 
their  purpose  at  the  championships,  the  racing  season  is  over,  and  they  imagine  that  before 
another  season  comes  round  '  something  may  turn  up '  to  smooth  and  allay  the  irritation  which 
they  know  their  action  will  create.  The  members  of  the  Executive  are  not  fools ;  they  are 
probably  the  ablest  n^en  the  cycling  world  can  boast  of ;  but  they  have  a  problem  before  them 
that  the  brightest  intellect  in  their  midst  will  not  solve.  If  they  stand  still,  amateurism  is  a  joke 
and  the  Union  a  by-word ;  if  they  go  forward,  they  must  suspend  every  man  of  note  and  begin 
ukA  season  with  a  host  of  men  the  public  would  not  walk  a  yard  to  see,  besides  having  to  fight 
against  a  combination  of  the  enormous  attractions  they  will  have  tossed  away.  Why  should 
tbey  do  it  ?  "  Such  is  the  dilemma  as  sUted  by  J.  R.  Hogg  {Wheelmg^  Oct.  6,  '86),  in  the  first 
of  a  series  of  full-page  articles  which  prove,  by  relentless  logic,  that  the  only  real  remedy  for 
underhand  evasions  and  open  defiance  of  the  "  amateur  law  "  is  the  utter  abolition  of  that 
law.  He  says  :  "  We  want  to  see  the  Union  legislate  for  cycling  as  a  ^hole ,  to  recognize  it 
as  a  great  sport,  and  not  as  a  class  distinction.  We  want  them  to  act  with  a  firm  hand  upon  the 
real  evils,  which  are  only  too  apparent,  and  not  to  manufacture  others.  We  want  them  to  give 
up  the  ridiculous  task  of  forcing  the  nature  and  requirements  of  the  racing  world  into  harmony 
with  their  laws.  We  want  them  to  shape  their  laws  in  harmony  with  the  racing  world.  *  * 
The  members  of  the  Executive  must  surely  know  that  as  long  as  the  maker  is  willing  to  pay  for 
a  riding  adv.  in  the  amateur  ranks,  there  always  will  be  those  who  are  willing  to  accept  the  pay- 
ment. Is  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  maker  will  ever  be  blind  to  the  splendid  adv.  of  a 
man  winning  races  all  over  the  country  on  his  machine  ?  Is  it  reasonable  to  imagine  that  the 
average  champion  will  insist  on  paying  his  own  expenses,  and  despise  a  substantial  addition  to 


6so  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

his  ready  money?  Time  will  prove  all  things;  but  to  us  it  appears  as  clear  as  daylight,  that 
suspensions  of  makers'  amateurs  in  '86  will  clear  the  way  for  a  new  crop  in  '87  and  suspensions 
in  '87  will  make  room  for  more  paid  men  in  '88.  The  prospect  is  not  an  inviting  one.  There 
is  no  state  more  intolerable  than  to  be  incessantly  at  variance  with  our  fellows,  in  whatever 
sphere  of  life  it  may  occur.  The  Executive  is  setting  out  on  a  policy  of  discord,  of  enmity,  and  of 
bitter  and  acrimonious  strife  of  which  no  man  can  foresee  the  end."  Similar  to  this  was  WketU 
ing^s  advice  of  Sept.  x6 .  "  We  say  to  the  Union  '  Abolish  the  definition  ! '  but  we  also  say, 
pending  that  abolition,  '  Do  not  be  so  unjust  as  to  suspend  a  score  of  crack  riders  for  committing 
a  sin  which  only  a  trifling  minority  of  your  clients  consider  a  sin  ;  and  do  not  be  so  im|X>Iitic  as 
to  ruin  your  exchequer  for  next  year  by  si^pending  the  men  whose  grand  performances  bring 
the  public  to  your  championship  meetings.'  "  The  contempt  which  the  general  outside  public 
must  needs  feel  towards  this  *'  whole  silly-Billy  business," — of  pretending  to  maintain  impossi- 
ble social  distinctions,  under  the  guise  of  "  regulating  the  sport," — ^was  shown  fairly  well  by  a 
sarcastic  article  in  a  London  satirical  weekly  (the  Bett^  Oct.  6)  from  which  I  quote  the  follow- 
ing :  "Perhaps  the  natural  snobbery  of  the  British  middle  classes  has  never  been  more  thor- 
oughly exposed  than  by  the  mstitution  of  the  extraordinary  sentiment  known  as  '  Amateurism.* 
The  origin  of  it  is  lost  in  obscurity ;  but  the  fact  of  its  existence  has  been  made  patent  of  late 
years  principally  by  the  total  disregard  of  its  laws  by  those  popularly  supposed  to  be  its  devotees." 
"  Issued  under  the  authority  of  the  Executive,  and  edited  by  Wm.  Cole,  Ass't  Sec.,"  is  the 
N.  C.  U.  Review  and  Official  Record^  whereof  there  lies  before  me  the  second  number  (Oct., 
'86;  24  pp  and  blue  adv.  cover  of  4  pp. ;  7^  by  10  in.),  the  first  having  appeared  in  June.  It  is 
designed  as  a  quarterly,  to  be  sent  to  each  Delegate  in  advance  of  the  four  regular  Coundl- 
meetings,  and  to  contain  the  reports  and  agenda  which  are  to  be  brought  before  those  meetings. 
Doubtless  it  is  also  mailed  to  the  unattached  or  independent  members,  in  recognition  of  their 
paying  62  c,  instead  of  the  25  c.  fees  paid  by  the  club-men ;  but  this  is  left  to  inference,  and  no 
price  is  named  at  which  outsiders  may  subscribe  for  it.  A  few  might  gladly  do  this,  for  it  is 
neatly  printed,  and  has  a  serious  and  dignified  air  not  attaching  to  other  specimens  of  cycling 
journalism.  "  The  Repair  and  Maintenance  of  Roads,"  an  article  specially  written  for  it  by 
W.  H.  Wheeler,  a  member  of  the  Institution  of  Civil  Engineers,  occupies  16  columns  in  this  Oct. 
number,  and  probably  the  piece  "  On  the  Legal  Aspects  of  Road  Repair,"  by  Mr.  Glen,  in  the 
June  number,  was  of  similar  length ;  for  both  are  "  soon  to  be  re-issued,  in  pamphlet  form,  for 
general  distribution,  at  a  minimum  charge."  I  assume  that  the  same  will  prove  true  in  regard 
to  the  article  promised  for  the  Jan.  Review^  by  a  legal  member  of  the  Executive,  **  giving  a 
summary  of  all  the  by-laws  enacted  by  local  governments  for  the  regulation  of  cycle  traffic." 
The  pamphlet  of  Union  rules  may  be  obtained  at  50  c.  per  dot.,  and  entry-forms  for  race^neet- 
ings,  at  62  c.  per  100,  plus  postage.  The  reference  library,  at  57  Basinghall  St.,  may  be  freely 
consulted  by  all  wheelmen,  10  a  m.  to  5  p.  M.  "A  list  of  its  books,  maps  and  other  material, 
with  notes  as  to  desiderata,  for  the  guidance  of  those  willing  to  aid  in  completing  the  collection, 
will  be  issued  as  soon  as  possible.  A  classified  catalogue  will  also  be  prepared  in  ms.,  and  kept 
up  to  date,  for  readers'  use ;  and  this  will  be  printed  whenever  the  size  of  the  collection  justifies 
such  a  step."  An  appeal  from  the  librarian,  R.  L.  Philpot  {Wheeling^  Jan.  27,  '86,  p.  251), 
names  ten  classes  of  desirable  contributions, — ^induding  not  only  complete  sets  of  all  cycling 
journals,  and  complete  eds.  of  all  books  and  pamphlets  which  concern  the  sport,  but  also  maps, 
atlases,  plans,  charts;  itineraries,  guides,  gazetteers,  local  histories,  geographies,  books  of  travel, 
ancient  and  modem  road-reports,  acts  of  Parliament,  works  on  road-construction  and  repair, 
highway  law,  railway  statistics,  training  and  general  athletics,  athletic  hygiene ;  '*  trade  lists, 
catalogues  of  cycling  exhibitions,  programmes  of  cycling  sports ;  photogn^>hs,  engravings  and 
drawings  of  well-known  cyclers,  machines,  and  views  of  places  of  interest ;  and,  finally,  news- 
paper cuttings  and  scraps  relating  to  any  of  the  above  subjects,  for  preservation  in  the  library 
albums."  The  Union  has  never  issued  a  badge  or  even  a  membership  ticket;  and  the  Oct. 
Review  urges  that  something  of  the  sort  should  be  done,  as  a  means  for  attracting  recruits,  and 
for  reconciling  present  supporters  to  such  an  increase  of  fees  as  will  be  necessary  to  solve  the 
present  pressing  "  question  of  finance."    It  prints  on  p.  26  a  picture  of  the  "  record  medal," 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS,  651 

the  size  of  a  half-dollar,  for  which  a  die  has  lately  been  cut ;  and  a  list  of  8  awards  of  it  for 
"  breaking  Tecords,"  between  May  and  July,  '86.  On  the  back  of  each  medal  are  inscribed  the 
names  of  the  winner  and  of  the  dub  or  individual  presenting  it  A  tabular-view  of  the  winners 
of  all  N.  C.  U.  championships,  '78  to  '86,  covers  p.  25 ;  and  on  p.  aa  is  a  list  of  "  16  danger- 
boards,  erected  since  last  quarterly  report,"  with  names  of  the  persons  and  clubs  erecting  them, 
and  notices  of  the  hill-tops  where  they  stand.  Throughout  the  whole  of  Great  Britain,  after  8 
years'  combined  effort,  of  N.  C.  U.  and  C.  T.  C,  both  of  whose  names  are  put  upon  each 
board,  ''the  number  now  standing  is  183."  "These  malleable  iron  placards  are  obtainable, 
gratis,  at  57  Basinghall  St.,  or  through  any  of  the  N.  C.  U.  Local  Centers,  by  any  riders  or  clubs 
who  will  undertake  their  erection,  and,  preferably,  bear  the  trivial  expense  involved  in  so  doing." 
So  says  the  C.  T.  C.  Gasetie  (Oct.,  '86,  p.  419),  beneath  a  reduced  fac-simile  of  the  "  board,** 
which  is  a  rectangle,  inscribed  in  large  capitals :  "  To  Cyclists.  This  Hill  is  Dangerous.**  A 
somewhat  sarcastic  suggestion  as  to  the  impracticable  nature  of  the  device  was  offered  thus  by 
"  The  Octopus  "  {H^keeltng^^  Oct.  13,  *86) :  "  As  these  boards  or  tins  (under  the  paternal  care  of 
F.  G.  Dray)  are  generally  placed  behind  hedges,  in  fields,  or  at  a  considerable  distance  from  the 
road,  whilst  the  paint  is  carefully  knocked  off,  it  is  only  fair  to  assume  that  they  are  erected 
under  the  supervision  of  the  local  doctors  and  undertakers  who  object  to  trade  being  spoilt. " 


On  the  Continent,  the  largest  club  of  the  sort  is  the  "  Deutscher  Radfahrer-Bund  **  (Ger- 
man Wheelmen's  Union),  whose  fortnightly  organ,  the  Radfahrer^  was  sent  to  7187  members 
Oct.  I,  *86,  when  its  whole  ed.  was  7700.  This  shows  that  the  membership  has  increased  916 
in  3  mos.,  and  has  more  than  doubled  in  x8  mos., — for  the  revised  list  of  Apr.  t,  '85,  had  only 
3337  names.  The  society  was  founded  at  Leipzig,  Aug.  17,  '84,  by  the  amalgamation  of  a  pair 
of  earlier  ones,  whose  officers  and  delegates  convened  for  that  purpose,  and  thus  amicably  put 
an  end  to  the  two  years'  factional  rivalry  between  the  Cycling  Unions  of  the  North  (org.  Oct. 
az,  *82,  at  Hanover)  and  the  South  ("  CJerman-Austrian,"  org.  May  29,  '82,  at  Munich).  At 
the  close  of  '83,  according  to  Walker's  "Jahrbuch**  (pp.  104,  to8),  the  latter  comprised  49 
clubs,  with  about  iioo  members,  whose  annual  fee  of  50  c.  included  the  price  of  a  monthly 
"  organ  **;  the  former  comprised  16  clubs  with  243  members,  paying  25  c.  fees,  and  115  of  the 
unattached,  paying  75  c.  A  catalogue  of  their  respective  publications  may  be  found  on  p.  697. 
Since  that  was  electrotyped,  the  Rad/akrer*s  office  has  been  changed  to  87  Zimmer  St.,  Berlin, 
W.  Its  ed.,  T.  H.  S  Walker,  was'  one  of  the  founders  at  Hanover  in  *82,  and  got  his  paper 
(then  called  the  Veiociped)  adopted  there  as  official  organ.  He  is  an  Englishman,  and  a  chief 
consul  of  the  C.  T.  C. ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  C.  H.  Bingham,  of  Utrecht,  the  first  presi- 
dent of  the  "  Nederlandsche  Velocipedisten  Bund  **  (Dutch  Cyclers'  Union),  founded  July  i, 
'83,  who  perhaps  still  holds  that  office.  Its  publications,  and  the  official  organ  of  the  Belgians* 
Union, — "  F^d^ration  V^locip^dique  Beige,**  founded  at  Brussels,  Jan  21,  '83, — ^are  mentioned 
on  p.  700.  The  "  Union  V^locip^dique  de  France  '*  vras  founded  at  Paris,  Feb.  6^  '81.  De 
Baroncelli's  "  Annuaire**  of  Jan.,  '83,  mentioned  8  leading  clubs  in  7  cities  as  supporting  it ; 
and,  a  year  later,  gave  a  list  of  its  chief-consuls  and  consuls  in  29  towns.  The  general  officers 
were  as  follows,  at  both  those  dates:  /Vvj.,  £.  Varlet,  90  av.  Niel;  5>c.,  H.  Pagis,  xirav. 
de  VilUers ;  Trteu.^  L.  Viltard,  4  rue  de  la  Zone  (Charenton).  Mention  was  made  in  Feb.,  *86, 
of  a  "  Onsul  General,"  Mr.  Jacquot,  as  in  the  act  of  preparing  a  road-book  of  FranCfc.  The 
Sec.  is  ed.  of  the  oldest  French  cycling  journal  (the  Sport  Viiocipedtfue  ;  begun  *8o ;  weekly, 
ta  pp.,  ^2.40);  and  his  ride  from  Paris  to  Vienna,  several  years  ago,  attracted  much  notice  as 
the  first  long-distance  tour  on  the  Continent.  His  paper  is  the  official  organ  of  the  Union.  The 
ed.  of  another  one,  the  Veh  PyrSnien  of  Pau,  was  spoken  of  scoffingly,  in  the  summer  of  '85, 
as  trying  to  form  an  opposition  society,  the  "  Alliance  V^locip^dique  de  France,**  and  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  it ;  but  I  think  nothing  was  really  done.  Switzerland  is  the  fifth  continental 
country  known  to  me  as  possessed  of  a  cyclers*  government, — the  "Union  V^locip^dique 
Suisse  "  having  been  founded  in  *84.  I  take  this  from  De  Baroncelli's  "  Annuaire  *'  of  *84, 
which  mentions  the  dubs  of  ten  towns  as  supporting  the  Union. 


654         ^^^V  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

of  the  essential  facts  about  every  book  and  journal  devoted  to  the  trade  ? 
Suppose  that  a  few  stupid  and  short-sighted  publishers  do  for  a  while  refuse 
to  reciprocate  the  favors  thus  shown  them  ?  Such  lack  of  intelligent  selfish- 
ness on  their  part  will  prove  nothing  against  the  wisdom  of  the  system ;  and 
they  will  ultimately  be  shamed  into  adopting  it  under  pressure  of  public 
opinion.  Even  the  most  hoggish  of  mortals  will  finally  get  tired  of  feeling 
that  people  despise  him  for  withholding  his  fair  share  of  support  from  a 
scheme  which  plainly  brings  him  benefit.  I  insist,  furthermore,  that  the  sup- 
port, by  any  or  all  of  its  beneficiaries  (of  ray  suggested  scheme  for  freely 
giving  the  widest  possible  publicity  to  a  condensed  advertisement  of  all  the 
wheel  literature  in  the  market),  will  in  no  way  diminish  the  amount  of  money 
expended  by  publishers  for  "  display  advertisements  "  of  the  usual  florid  type. 
Those  who  believe  that  such  displays  are  effective  will  not  think  that  the 
investment  to  secure  them  is  any  less  necessary  or  profitable  because  of  the 
line  or  two  of  "  free  ad.,'*  which  is  tucked  away  in  some  obscure  corner ; 
while  those  who  disbelieve  that  such  displays  are  worth  their  cost  will  not 
have  their  action  influenced  at  all  by  knowing  that  no  "  free  ad."  is  granted. 

The  folloMring  list  of  22  cycling  joarnals,  giving  date  of  first  issue  of  each,  is  believed  to  in- 
clude all  those  which  are  now  (Aug.  i,  *86)  regularly  published  in  the  Englisli  language  :  The  1 1 
not  otherwise  designated  are  weeklies  :  (x)  L.  A,  W.  BulUtin^  July  a,  '85  ;  Philadelphia,  Pa., 
506  Walnut  St. ;  circulation  is  10,000,  as  a  copy  is  sent  free  to  each  member  of  the  League.  (2) 
Wheelmen^  s  Gazette  ^  Apr.,  '83  ;  monthly;  Springfield,  Mass. ;  a  published  summary  of  its^uW 
scription-list  showed  13,912  copies  mailed  to  1557  towns,  Nov.  20,  '84,  and  15,205  copies  mailed 
to  1678  towns,  Feb.  20,  '85.  (3)  Bicycling  Worlds  Nov.  15,  '79 ;  Boston,  Mass.,  179  Tremont 
St.  (4)  Cycle y  Apr.  2,  '86;  $1.50;  Boston,  Mass.,  2a  School  st.  (5)  Wheels  Sept.  25,  '80;  New 
York,  ta  Veseyst.  (6)  RecreeUion^  Julys,  'S^i  illustrated;  $1.50;  Newark,  N.  J.,  755  Broad 
St. ;  "sworn  circulation  of  at  least  2500  copies."  (7)  Southern  Cycler ^  Nov.,  '84;  monthly; 
Memphis,  Tenn.  (8)  Bicycle  Souths  Dec,  '84;  monthly;  New  Orleans,  La.,  Ji6  Gravier  st. 
(9)  Star  Advocate y  Mar.,  '85 ;  monthly;  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  (10)  American  IVkeelman, 
Aug.,  '85 ;  monthly;  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  516  Olive  st.  (xi)  Vermont  Bicycle^  Apr.,  *S6;  monthly, 
25  c. ;  West  Randolph,  Vt.  (12)  Canadian  Wheelnutn^  Sept.,  '83;  monthly;  ^i ;  London, 
Ont. ;  sent  free  to  each  of  the  900  members  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association,  (xs)  C.  T. 
C.  Monthly  Gazette^  Oct.,  '78 ;-  London,  £ng.,  139-140  Fleet  st. ;  sent  free  to  each  of  the  21,000 
members  of  the  C.  T.  C.  (whose  annual  dues  are  a  s.  6  d.)-;  "  this  magazine  has  incomparably 
the  largest  and  most  bona  fide  circulation  of  any  wheel  paper  in  the  world."  (14)  Cyclist  ^  Oct. 
22,  *79;  Coventry,  Eng.,  12  Smithford  st.  (15)  Bicycling  AVtew,  Jan.,  '76;  London,  Eng.,  9S 
Fleet  St. ;  "  the  oldest  cycling  paper."  (16)  Wheelings  April  30,  '84 ;  London,  Eng.,  152  Fleet 
St.  (x7)  Cycling  Times^  May, '77;  London,  Eng.,  East  Temple  Chambers,  Whitefriars  st. 
(18)  Tricycling  Journal,  June  x5,  *8i;  London,  Eng.,  Hammersmith  Printing  Woxlcs.  (19) 
Wheel  World,  '80;  monthly,  6  d, ;  London,  Eng.,  98  Fleet  st. ;  "the  only  illustrated  maga- 
zine of  cycling."  (20)  Irish  Cyclist  and  Athlete,  May  15,  '85  ;  fortnightly,  5  s.  5  d. ;  Dublin,  40 
Lower  Sackville  st.  (21)  Irish  Cycling  and  Athletic  Journal,  Nov.,  '85;  weekly;  Dublin. 
(22)  Australian  Cycling  News,  May  11,  '82;  fortnightly,  7  s. ;  Melbourne,  Vict.,  47  Queen  st. 
The  American  papers  all  cost  5  c.  each,  and  their  annual  subscription  is  |i  for  the  weeklies  and 
50  c.  for  the  monthlies,  except  in  the  four  cases  otherwise  specified.  The  five  London  weeklies 
cost  a  penny  each,  and  their  annual  subscription  is  6  s.  6  d.  This  is  increased  to  $2  when 
papers  are  mailed  to  the  United  States,  but  Wheeling  and  the  Wheelmen* s  Gautte  are  both 
mailed  for  $2,  in  case  the  money  is  sent  to  the  latter  at  Springfield,  Mass. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  American  books  and  pamphlets  concerning  the  subject  (in  the  raaricet 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  655 

Aug.  I,  '86):  "Lyra  Bicyclica:  Sixty  PoeU  on  the  Wheel ''  (ad  ed..  Mar.,  '85,  pp.  160,  cloth); 
mailed  on  receipt  of  postal-note  for  75  c,  by  the  author,  J.  G.  Dalton,  36  St.  James  av.,  Boston, 
Mass.  *'  Wheel  Songs,"  poems  of  bicycling,  by  S.  Conant  Foster  (July,  '84,  pp.  80,  nearly  50 
illustrations,  cloth,  $1.75) ;  N.  Y.:  Outing  Co.,  140  Nassau  st.  "  Wheels  and  Whims:  An  Out- 
ing," a  cycling  novel  (by  Mrs.  Florine  Thayer  McCny  and  Miss  Esther  Louise  Smith ;  pp. 
a88,  doth,  illust.,  $1.25,  Boston:  Cupples,  Upluun  &  Co.,  July,  '84);  zd  ed.,  revised,  May,  '86, 
paper  covers,  mailed  for  50  c,  by  J.  S.  Browning,  91  Oliver  St.,  Boston.  "  Rhymes  of  the 
Road  and  River,"  by  Chris.  Wheeler  (Nov.,  '85,  pp.  154,  cloth,  %z)\  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  E. 
Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,  321  Chestnut  st.  "  A  Canterbury  Pilgrimage,  ridden,  written  and  illus- 
trated by  Joseph  and  Elizabeth  Robins  Pennell "  (Aug.,  '85,  square  8vo,  paper,  50  c.) ;  N. 
Y.:  C.  Scribner's  Sons,  743  Broadway.  "  In  and  Around  Cape  Ann,"  wheelman's  guide  (Aug., 
'8S>  PP*  100,  eleven  engravings,  cloth  bound,  about  30,000  words) ;  mailed  on  receipt  of  postal- 
note  for  75  c,  by  the  author,  John  S.  Webber,  jr.,  Gloucester,  Mass. ;  revised  ed.  in  prepara- 
tion for  '87.  "  Road  Bookof  Long  Island"  (Apr.,  '86,  pp.  90,  cloth,  $1),  tabulated  statistics 
of  the  best  riding  within  50  m.  of  N.  Y.  City,  with  through  routes,  and  special  maps  of  various 
riding  districts ;  mailed  by  the  compiler,  A.  B.  Barkman,  608  Fourth  av.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
"  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Ass'n  Guide"  (Apr.,  '84,  pp.  138,  doth,  50  c);  a  revised  and  en- 
larged edition,  with  maps,  to  be  published  in  Oct.,  'S6,  by  the  secretary  of  the  assodation,  H. 
B.  Donly,  Simcoe,  OnL  "  Cyclist's  Road  Book  of  Boston  and  Vidnity  "  (ad  ed..  May  20,  '86^ 
PP>  42);  5S  routes  given  by  streets;  mailed  for  15  c  by  the  compiler,  A.  L.  Atkins,  17  West 
Walnut  Park,  Boston,  Ms.  "  Wheelman's  Hand-book  of  Essex  County  "  (3d  ed.,  Aug.,  '86, 
pp.  74);  mailed  for  20  c.  by  the  compiler,  Geo.  Chinn,  Beverly,  Ms.  "  Wheelmen's  Reference 
Book  "  (May,  '86,  pp.  183 ;  49  lithographic  portraits ;  50  c.  in  paper,  ^z  in  cloth ;  ed.  5000) ; 
Hartford,  Ct. :  Ducker  &  Goodman.  "  Star-Rider's  Manual "  (3d  ed..  Mar.,  '86,  pp.  117) ;  an 
mstruction  book  on  the  use  of  the  American  Star  bicyde ;  mailed  for  75  c  by  the  author,  £.  H. 
Corson,  ed.  of  Star  AdvocaU^  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  *'  A.  B.  C.  of  Bicyding  "  (Apr.,  '80, 
36  pp.,  10  c.) ;  instructions  for  beginners,  by  H.  B.  Hart,  8zi  Arch  St.,  PhUadelphia,  Pa.  "  Bicy- 
de Tactics,"  a  manual  of  drill  for  clubs  (Apr.,  '84,  30  c),  by  T.  S.  Miller,  i6a  Washington  St., 
Chicago.  "  Club  Songs "  (30  bicyde  songs  set  to  popular  airs ;  35  c),  by  A.  S.  Hibbard, 
Arthur  Young  and  T.  S.  Miller.  More  important  to  the  tourist  than  most  of  the  above-named 
are  the  elaborate  road-books  published  by  the  several  State  Divisions  of  the  League,  and  sold 
(at  $1)  only  to  League  members  of  other  Divisions.  The  roads  of  Penn.,  N.  J.,  Md.,  O. 
and  Mass.  have  already  been  tabulated  thus;  while  Conn.,  N.  Y.,  Mich.,  111.,  Ind.  and  other 
States  have  similar  books  in  preparation.  More  interesting  to  the  general  reader  than  any  cycling 
book  now  in  existence,  will  be  Thomas  Stevens's  "  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicyde,"  to  be 
reproduced  in  '87  from  the  series  of  illustrated  artides  which  Outing  has  published  monthly 
since  Apr.,  '85.  More  voluminous  than  any  other  is  "Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle," 
(Apr.  ,'87,  $1.50),  for  it  contains  a  greater  number  of  words  than  all  the  above-catalogued  books 
and  pamphlets  combined.  In  order  the  better  to  advertise  this  fact,  the  publisher  of  it  will  give 
an  electrotype  of  the  present  list  to  any  one  who  will  agree  to  print  (in  trade-catalogue,  book, 
pamphlet  or  paper)  this  brief  summary  of  all  the  wheel  literature  now  in  the  market  Requests 
for  such  electrotype  should  be  addressed  to  the  University  Building,  New  York  City,  D. 

Of  the  prints  which  are  no  longer  in  the  market,  the  earliest  mention  belongs  to  the  Ameri- 
am  Bicycling  Jmtmal,  which  made  14  regular  fortnightly  issues,  Dec.  33,  '77,  to  June  33,  '78, 
and  four  later  ones  in  '79,  dated  Jan.  25,  Aug.  9,  Oct.  18  and  Nov.  x.  "  It  will  be  published 
every  other  Saturday,  and  mailed  post-paid  for  10  c.  a  copy,  or  $3.50  a  year,  and  all  communica' 
lions  should  be  addressed  to  the  editor,  178  Devonshire  st.,  Boston.'*  Such  was  a  part  of  the 
formula  which  stood  unchanged  through  the  entire  18  numbers  (and  one  of  its  other  phrases  for 
the  first  half-year  was,  "  As  soon  as  the  demand  will  warrant  it,  we  propose  publishing  each 
week  ") ;  but  announcement  was  made  in  the  14th  number  that  "  the  paper  will  now  become  an 
irregular  instead  of  a  regular  noun,  its  future  dates  of  issue  being  somewhat  erratic,  regulated  in 
accordance  with  the  best  judgment  of  the  proprietors,  keeping  in  view  the  best  interests  of  the 
bicyde  mofvenient,  with  which  their  own  interests  are,  of  course,  identified.    They  do  not  seek 


656 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


to  shirk  any  necessary  outlay,  but  they  do  desire  to  avoid  waste  and  make  their  loss  as  saudl  as 
possible."  No  names  were  ever  printed ;  but  the  proprietors  were  Cunningham,  Heath  &  Co., 
the  earliest  firm  organized  for  the  importatiop  of  bicycles  into  this  country,  and  the  editor  was 
their  junior  partner,  Frank  W.  Weston  (b.  July  13,  *43)'  He  afterwards  used  the  signature 
**  Jack  Easy  "  for  many  articles  in  the  BL  Worlds  and  his  standing  as  a  pioneer  is  proclaimed 
by  the  nickname  "  Papa,"  applied  by  his  familiars  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  on  whose  original  roll 
of  founders  his  name  was  signed  sixth.  Its  pages  measured  9  by  12  in.  (a  sUndard-size  ^idiich 
has  been  adhered  to  by  the  BL  World  2xA  most  of  the  later  journals,— thus  rendering  it  ea;^  to 
file  and  bind  them  together)  and  were  numbered  from  i  to  16  in  each  issue,— the  last  2,  3  w  4  of 
them  being  given  to  advertisements.  An  index  to  these  a88  double-column  pages  was  printed  as 
a  supplement  to  the  Bi.  World  {}ym^  36,  '80,  p.  289),  whose  initial  number  gave  admission  to 
xYi^/oumaPs  illuminated  heading,  in  order  that  the  editor  might  deliver  his  valedictory  beneath 
it, — declaring  his  intention  to  fill  unexpired  subscriptions  with  the  new  paper  and  also  to  serve  as 
one  of  its  regular  contributors.  This  heading  was  designed  by  C.  W.  Reed,  and  it  depicts  a  bi- 
cycler gayly  whirling  away  from  Father  Time  on  a  bone-shaker.  A  scroll  or  ribbon,  dumsfly 
piled  up  between  the  two,  exhibits  the  four  words  of  the  title,  in  black  capitals  of  surpassing 
ugliness ;  but  the  main  figure  in  Scotch  cap,  velveteen  jacket  and  white  flannel  breeches  has 
always  been  endeared  to  me,  as  conveying  an  admirable  notion  of  the  airy  ease  and  graoefulnesa 
which  render  the  sport  so  alluring.  The  first  number  contained  a  card  from  Cunningham,  Heath 
&  Co.  (whose  advertisement  covered  the  final  page,  whereof  the  price  was  named  as  $25,  '*  or 
$13  a  half-page  *'),  saying  that  a  signatiu'e-book  had  been  opened  at  their  office  for  such  as  might 
wish  to  join  the  proposed  Boston  B.  C,  and  urging  them  to  sign  promptly  and  ensure  for  their 
city  the  honor  of  having  the  earliest  American  bicycle  club.  The  same  number  also  said: 
"  There  are  now  published  in  London  two  weeklies,  one  monthly  and  three  annuals  devoted 
entirely  to  the  bicycling  interest ;  and  a  single  London  firm  sold  60,000  machines  last  year."  A 
large  share  of  the  Joumats  matter  was  reprinted  from  these  English  papers,  and  from 
the  Boston  dailies,  whose  columns  contained  many  argumentative  and  descriptive  articles 
written  by  the  enthusiastic  local  pioneers  of  wheeling  ;  but  it  also  published  considerate  fresh 
material.  My  own  earliest  road-report  appeared  here  ("  Bicycling  in  New  York,  "  Oct.  18,  '79X 
and  alongside  it  a  listof  23  dubs  then  Existing  ;  while  the  issue  of  Jan.  35,  V9>  S^^'^  ^^  alpha- 
betical list  of  about  250  riders,  with  their  addresses,  "  though  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  it 
does  not  represent  more  than  half  the  bicyclers  that  are  scattered  over  the  land, — whereas  a  year 
ago  they  could  almost  have  been  counted  on  one's  fingers."  This  list  was  afterwards  reprinted 
in  the  Bi.  World;  and  the  publishers  thereof  for  several  years  advertised  the  sale  (I4)  of  bound 
files  of  the  Jottmai^  which  will  always  remain  an  interesting  memorial  of  the  manner  ia  which 
«4ieeling  first  won  recognition  here. 

Another  notable  monument  in  the  journalistic  cemetery  is  that  made  by  the  15  monthly 
numbers  of  the  Wheebnan  (Oct.,  *82  to  Dec,  '83),  an  illustrated  octavo  magazine  of  80  douUe- 
column  pages,  handsomely  printed  by  Rockwell  &  Churchill,  who  took  oath  (Boston,  Apr.  37, 
'83)  that  they  had  issued  "  three  editions  of  No.  i,  two  editions  of  No.  a,  and  20,000  copies  of 
No.  9,"  and  that  their  "  arrangements  with  the  publishers  required  the  printing  of  oev«r  less 
than  10,000  copies  monthly."    The  publishers  were  the  "  Wheelmen  Co.,"  of  608  Washington 
St.,  Boston,  who  announced  the  following  editorial  board :  S..S.  McClure,  editor-in-diief ;  J. 
F.  McClure,  managing  ed. ;  J.  S.  Phillips,  literary  ed. ;  Charles  £.  Pratt,  contributiiq^  ed., 
and  P.  B.  Lansing,  advertising  agent.     Its  cover,  of  reddish-brown  paper,  had  a  droular  picture 
exhibiting  ten  cyclers  in  rather  awkward  positions ;  but  this  was  superseded  in  six  montl»  bf 
greenish  paper  and  a  medallion  design  which  lasted  a  year.    Proclamation  was  made  in  Na  x% 
that  there  would  be  a  consolidation  with  "  OMting^  a  magazine  of  pleasure-travel,  outdoor  t^gatUk 
and  the  general  field  of  recreation,  whidi  was  begun  in  May,  '82,  and  has  steadily  improved  i* 
quality,  influence  and  prosperity,  vnth  each  successive  issue," — having  been  published  at  $$  ] 
Pearl  St.,  Albany,  by  W.  B.  Howland  (b.  June  10,  '49)>  editor  of  a  paper  near  there, — aad  tl 
"the  new  monthly.  Outing  and  the  Wheelman^  will  combine  the  resources  of  both."    Tbit  pi^ 
nation  and  style  perpetuated  the  latter  rather  than  the  former,  continuing  its  series  (No.  4  fii  V* 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  657 

3,  Jan.,  '84)  as  the  16th  monthly  issue  of  an  80-page  octavo:  and  this  size  was  retained  until  the 
3oih  number  (Mar.,  '85),  completing  the  fifth  semi-annual  volume.  The  cover  bore  the  double- 
name  during  ail  this  iuierval  (ihough  the  inside  heading  was  simply  Ouitng^  after  Mar.,  '84), 
and  exhibited,  in  place  of  th£  origiual  editorial  board,  the  following  formuia  :  **  Published  at 
175  Trcmont  St.,  IJoston,  by  the  Wheelmen  Co.  (incorporated  Nov.  7,  '83);  Chas.  E.  Pratt 
president ;  Wm.  ^.  Uowiatid,  treasurer.*'  The  president's  name  appeared  for  the  last  time  in 
July,  *85,  and  the  treasurer's  in  Dec,  when  rumors  began  to  appear  chat  the  magazine  would  be 
sold  to  a  new  company  in  New  York.  The  editorial  work  had  presumably  been  divided  between 
the  two — llie  trea&urer  assuming  most  of  it,  until  the  summer  of  *?5,  when  h^  became  editor  of 
the  Cambridge  Tribune ;  aud  i  bjlieve  the  work  was  thencefonh  done  in  succession  by 
Sylvester  Baxter  and  Charles  Richards  Dodge,  though  no  names  of  editors  were  ever  printed 
after  the  Wheelman  series  ended  in  Dec,  '83.  The  issue  of  Feb.,  '86,  simply  said  :  "The 
Outing  Co.  (.imited)  will  hereafter  be  the  publishers,  at  140  Nassau  St.,  N.  Y. ;"  and  announced 
as  editor  Pou.tney  Bigelow  (b.  Sept.  10,  *55),  a  Yale  graduate  of  '79,  whose  previous  journalistic 
training  had  been  given  by  the  Herald,  The  printers  are  Fleming,  Brewster  &  Alley,  a  new 
firm,  at  31-33  W.  23d  st. ;  and  the  chief  stockholder  in  the  Outing  Co.  is  reputed  to  be  Theo- 
dore Roosevc'it,  a  Harvard  graduate  of  *8o,  whose  sketches  of  ranching  and  shooting  in  the 
West  have  been  the  leading  feature  of  the  magazine  under  its  present  o%imership.  The  number 
of  pages  was  increased  from  80  to  12S  in  Apr.,  ^84  (when  the  name  iVheelmanzxA  the  medallion 
of  a  pair  of  bicyclers  were  removed  from  the  cover,  and  all  pretense  was  abandoned  of  claiming 
any  support  for  Outing  except  as  a  general  "  magazine  of  recreation  ";,  and  the  price  was 
increased  from  20  c  a  number  to  25  c. — from  ^2  a  year  to  $3.  The  semi-annual  vohimes,  bound 
in  cloth,  are  advertis  d  at  $1.50  each,  for  the  first  five  (480  pp.)  and  $2  each  for  the  later  ones 
(76S  pp.),  a  title-page  and  a  contents-table  being  supplied  in  every  case;  and  in  addition  an 
analytical  index  for  the  first  12  numbers,  at  the  end  of  the  second  volume.  Those  first  two  vol- 
umes, or  possibly  the  first  three,  may  well  be  purchased  and  preserved  by  recent  con\erts  to 
cycling,  as  an  exponent  of  the  highest  standard  ever  reached  by  its  journalism, — or  ever  likely 
to  be  reached.  This  is  not  to  say  that  a  high  standard  was  uniformly  maintained,  however,  for 
both  the  artistic  and  literary  contributions  varied  greatly  in  merit,  and  much  trashy  material 
was  used  for  "  filling  " ;  but  the  best  of  its  pictures  were  certainly  iai  superior  to  the  best  ever 
given  in  the  London  IVkeel  World  (which  has  continued  the  only  illustrated  magazine  in  the 
trade,  since  the  WheelmatCe  "  consolidation  *'  at  the  end  of  '83),  and  the  best  uf  its  letter-press 
was  fairly  well-written.  A  list  of  President  Bates's  contributions  may  be  found  on  p.  506  ante. 
Even  the  "  poems  and  stories  "  were  not  as  bad  as  usually  result  from  the  struggles  of  amateurs 
to  buDd  such  things  "  on  the  wheel " ;  and  I  doubt  if  any  of  the  English  trade  journals  ever 
printed  so  natural  and  unaffected  a  " bicycling  romanc* "  as  M.  H.  Catherwood's  "  Castle 
Trundle,"  an  entertaining  little  sketch  of  an  imaginary  night-adventure  upon  an  Indiana  road 
(Vol.  3,  pp.  139,  193,  265).  In  presenting  a  summary  (pp.  473-4S4  ante's  of  Thomas  Stevens's 
report,  "  Amund  the  Worid  on  a  Bicycle,"  which  has  been  a  feature  in  Outing  since  Apr.,  '85, 
1  have  praised  it  warmly,  for  I  think  it  alone  worth  the  price  of  the  ma^zine ;  but  little  or 
nothing  else  has  appeared  therein  during  this  interval  which  is  of  any  special  interest  to  a  cycler. 
I  suppose  that  the  earliest  suggestion  of  such  a  magazine  as  the  Wheelman  was  contained 
in  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.'s  advertisement  of  a  "  literary  and  artistic  competition  "  {Bi.  Worlds  July 
fl9,  '8r)  for  "  two  fuII-nickeled  ball-bearing  Oilumbia  bicycles  of  any  size  and  style,"— one  to  be 
given  for  **  the  be^  article  on  the  uses  of  the  bicycle,"  the  other  for  "  the  best  series  of  sketches 
«f  bicycling,  suitable  for  wood-engravings.**  Competitors  were  to  send  in  their  matter  to  the 
editor  of  the  B.  W.^  not  later  than  Sept.  15  (signed  by  an  as^med  name,  and  accompanied  by 
leal  name  in  a  sealed  envelope  which  was  not  to  be  opened  tmtil  after  the  award) ;  and  the  de- 
dnon  of  each  prize  was  to  be  unanimously  ^^eed  upon,  not  later  than  Oct.  i,  by  the  following 
jnc^liea  :  John  Boyle  O'Reilly,  editor  of  the  Boston  Pilot ;  H.  D.  Weston,  clergyman,  now  of 
Norwalk,  Ct. ;  and  W.  F.  Halsall,  marine  artist,  of  Boston.  The  essay  was  required  to  con- 
tain "not  less  than  4000  words  nor  more  than  8000,"  and  *'  truthfulness  of  f— ••—  •""*  iltnity 

of  treatmcDt  are  qualities  to  be  considered  as  well  as  literary  excellence. 

43 


658  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCU. 

nqnired  to  be  4  by  6  in,  in  >iie.  and  not  leu  (ban  4  nor  uor  than  g  in  niunbo-. 
the  auepwd  nHtcrial  vraa  la  become  [bd  propetly  ol  th«  priie-given,  without  fm 
■nd  the  uniucceulul  maiuc  wai  lo  be  murucd  to  luch  ownen  u  cadoKd  itai 
poK-  A  brief  paragraph  of  Oct.  7  (ia  B.  a^.'j  "  pmoaal  '^  coIuidd^  p.  a66)  s.-^ 
iTf  priie  had  been  given  10  (;.  E.  Hawley,  oI  Waahington,  and  Ibe  aniitic  li 
Boilan  1  but  Dolhing  BiDic  wan  heard  concening  the  oulter  for  a  year,  Mhen  ' 
fiiH  number  (Oct.,  'Sj,  pp.  11-19)  printed  the  >uMe«Iul  euay,  "  U>«o(ther' 

Prall'i  illiulTiled  "  Wheel  around  the  Hgb,"  whoa*  original  appearance  (in- 
itial be  coniidemd  aa  the  firal  f  ottnal  iolrodiiction  of  the  bicycle  to  the  reading  r ' 
He  1I90  wrote  a  liille  ilory.  called  "  A  Race  for  a  Ribbon  "  id  "  fit "  ibe  Kri< 
uhich  earned  ihe  priie  foe  C.  W.  Keed.  and  which  aeiwd  to  illominale  tbr 
(he  (fitn^wiii'i  Ihird  ianK.    The  pagei  imniedialely  following  gave  a  reprim 
"On  the  Wheel" (which  I  had  meanwhile  aold  to  £.i//4Hntft  Mi£iiMmr 
failure  10  win  the  priie  bicycle) :  and  the  aame  iisue  CDDtaiocd  another  uuuci. 
"  Uaea  of  the  Kcycle"  (a^ned  "  Major,"  pp.  loj-ioS);  while  the  neu  ni 
lourlb  compelilor  (or  the  prize  a  chaius  u  air  big  reiecled  article  :  "  Some 
Bicycling " (ligned  "A  Senior," pp.  171-175).     During  ibe  prerioui  year 
bad  al»  oSenid  priiea  for  ilion  euayi  by  deigymen  in  ibe  religioui  preia ;  :■ 
a  leiull  at  Ibii  campelilion  thai  the  Wiitlirm  wai  able  to  ibow  in  ill  eai 
cleriol  conlribulDrt :  S.  I.  Giacey,  C.  E.  Briuol,  J.  L.  Scudder,  5.  H.  h. 
f.  B.  Hamilton,  H.  F.  Tilui,  O.  P.  GiSord,  A.  O.  Downs,  J.  H.  Hou^ 
••  A  Counlry  Paraon,"  "  Reverend,"  "  B.  B."  and  olhera.     The  fijimamed 
priie*  "  for  Ihe  bealpaper  upon  the  bicycle  for  Ihe  uie  ol  ministen  "  (about 
<i>ii  a/  ffjni),atidlbe  W4«/wh  reprinled  it  in  Dec,  'Si,  p.  iij.     In  aik. 
Engliah  jotimats  of  the  utHrancei  of  IxHidon  riders  who  were  medical  . 
W.  BIyth,  B.  W.  Richardson  and  B.  W.  Ward,-~pieces  io  favor  of  the 
from  American  phyaidani :  J.  A.  Quae.  J.  E.  O'Brien,  S,  M.  Woodbt. 
C.  E.  CarUn,  C.  A.  Kinch,  and  J.  F,  Baldwin,-^he  last  (our  cnntribulii 
poaium  "  (Aug.,  'Sj.  pp.  358-366),  consiwing  of  reprint*  [mm  four  medici 
likely  that  Ihe  original  pieparadon  of  these  article*  waa  promoled  by  Ibe 
The  ^aiD  inference  from  the  foregoing  fact*  i*  thai  the  Pope& 
which  the  "  Wheehnan  Co,"  publiihcd  the  nugaane,  and  that  they  h.i 
aidcrable  in  gelling  together  a  body  of  aeriouily-wrilleD  aniclei,  by  who. 
might  be  uaured.    Their  legal 'adviser,  wtkoae  name  wa*  primed  H  "  , 
said  (p,  i04  wu^Jlhal  he"  waa  midwife  for  the  tftitlmam," und  I  pre, 
mendtd  this  policy  of  Uying  to  diKovei  bow  rvqwctaUe  a  lilenry  > 
laud  in  advance,  by  thus  interesting  Ibe  cleigymen  and  doclora  and  r. 
In  luch  son  ol  competition.     I  thmk  the  actual  time  ol  i«ie  nighi ' 
euept  for  the  appearance  on  die  aceoe  of  S.  S.  McQure,  who  swoop'. 
.  Ihe  prairie*  ol  lllinoit,  in  Ibe  early  auiniDer  of  ti,  bris^g  wilh  V 
I  <l«|fM  of  Kmu  College  and  an  inethauBible  fund  of  youlliful  ent> 
carried  in  hit  poetcat  an  ooaro  pamphlet  of  4SpageBi  called  "  AHist< 
'  (adllwl  and  pobliihed  by  himielf,  in  hii  capacity  *>  "  Prendcnt  ol  1I 
I  AmiicIuImi,"  which  he  had  been  insiruniental  iu  organliiiig),  and  h- 
I  ifHDI  of  (^lutnUa  bicyclci,  Impreiaed  upon  Ibe 

J  paiaUtancy  and  Binguine  good-nalure  forced  the  pi 
Ihie  m»  improvad  ao  will  Ibal  in  a  few  week*  he 


~  £6i 

3v.f  '&4,al  banguFj  bj 


"    As  ifae  AiffiifH  ii  *cnl 
'»]y  totoao  luma  arc  pul^ 


for  b)r  crtater  mdiblEnau 
1  the  Le»goc,    S™  p.  tie.) 


whidi  the  olhcr  papcn  ladi, 
air-dollar  utHcrilKn,— eali- 
^iimtnncd.    A>  iheK  lull  ol 


66o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Feb.,  10,000;  Mar.,  12,000;  Apr..  15,000 ;  May,  ao,ooo.*'  Aboot  m  third  of  its  128  pp,  are  nam 
devoted  to  statistical,  ediiorial  and  miscellaneous  matter  in  brevier,  and  the  rttroaiuiiig  two-thirds 
to  more  formal  articles  in  coarser  type.  The  pictures  and  letur-press  of  many  of  these  are 
reprinted  from  various  kinds  of  sporting  books ;  and  the  avowed  aim  of  the  periodical  is  to 
be  recognised  as  "  the  American  gentleman's  magazine  of  sport."  When  the  American  gen* 
tlemen  who  now  own  it  have  had  sport  enough,  I  suppose  its  pub.ication  will  be  stopped. 

A  very  creditabie  iittle  fortnightly  was  the  Pkiladei/kia  Cycling  Record,  which  made  36 
appearances,  on  alternate  Fridays,  from  Mar.  7,  '84,  lo  Feb,  20,  '85,  when  its  discontinuance 
was  thus  announced  by  the  pubiislier,  H.  B.  Hart  (b.  Dec  18,  Ub) :  **  i  deep.y  regret  the 
necessity  of  withdrawing  the  paper,  which  has  been  profitable  and  wdl-sapported ;  but  arduous 
and  exacting  duties  in  other  matters  leave  me  no  time  for  the  management  of  its  business.  The 
completed  volume  comprises  217  pp.,  containing  over  350  columns  of  reading  mait&r,  uf  which 
over  eight-ninths  is  original ;  and  it  includes  three  continued  stories,  five  original  pieces  of 
poetry,  and  one  of  music,  and  much  othi:r  material  of  interest."  A  few  sets  can  still  be  supplied, 
at  the  original  subscription  rate  of  $0  c.  (81 1  Arch  St.,  Phila. ).  The  editor  was  Melmoth  M.  Os- 
borne. The  paper  was  adopted  as  the  **  official  gazette  of  Penn.  Division  of  the  League  " ;  itr 
typography  was  attractive,  and  its  literary  expression  was  unpretentious,  good  natured  and  decent. 
Contrasted  to  it  in  most  ways  was  the  poorly-printed  lyeUem  *Cyclistf  "published  semi-monthly 
for  the  good  of  the  cause,"  at  Ovid,  Mich.,  from  May  i,  '84,  to  Dec  i,  '85,  for  50  c.  a  year, — 
after  making  la  monthly  appearances,  Apr.,  '83,  to  Mar.,  *84i  for  24c  The  publishers  were 
the  Ovid  B.  C. ;  and  the  Mich.  Division  of  the  League  early  gave  it  a  sanction  as  "  official  organ." 
W.  C.  Marvin  (b.  Jan.  i5,*62 ;  d.  Apr.  13,  '86)  was  named  as  managing  editor,  from  the  start 
till  May  ts,  *8s,  and  C.  S.  Reeves  for  the  remaining  months.  The  pages  of  each  issue  were 
numbered  from  1  to  i5,  an<i  th:  tim:  of  appsaranci  was  often,  if  not  usually,  several  days  or 
weeks  later  than  the  date.  Much  more  creditable  was  the  "  official  organ  of  the  Ohio  Division, 
published  monthly  by  the  Cleveland  B.  C,  at  a  subscription  rate  of  10  c.  for  the  half-year,  Apr. 
to  Sept.,  '84."  Its  name  was  the  Ckvtland  Mercury  ;  its  editor  was  Alfred  £ly,  jr. ;  its  pages 
(10  by  7  in.  \  were  numbered  from  1  to  88 ;  and  though  its  chief  object  was  to  advertise  and  pro- 
mote the  Aujntst  rac.>s  of  the  Division  and  the  October  races  of  the  dub,  it  made  a  q>ecialty  of 
road  information,  and  printed  many  facts  of  value  to  tourists  in  Ohio.  Its  final  number  dcdared 
that  a  second  volume  would  begin  in  Oct.,  as  *'  Cycling;  a  monthly  journal  of  cycling  and  the 
trade,  at  50  c.  a  year,  giving  the  latest  wheel  news  and  special  attention  to  touring."  In  fact, 
however,  "Vol.  s,  No.  1,"  under  the  new  title,  and  with  pa?e  enlaitred  to  11  by  8  in.,  was 
dated  Apr.,  '85,  and  the  Sept.  issue  announced  its  absorption  in  th*  S^ingfieU  W^hetlmg^s  Ga- 
aetU,  whose  pub.  isher  agreed  to  fill  all  unexpired  subscriptions,  besides  paying  50  c  for  each  name 
on  the  list.  Cycling  was  well  printed,  and  the  Aug.  issue,  which  was  the  last  one  that  reached 
me,  had  a  colored  cover,  brining  the  total  of  pages  np  to  88.  Montgomery,  the  capital  of  Ala- 
bama, rould  boast  of  ths  Bicycle^  a  semi-monthly  of  8  pp.,  from  July  15.  '84,  to  Oct.  js.  *85, 
with  a  subscription-rate  of  $t.  Frank  X.  Mudd  and  J.  C.  McKenzie,  the  original  "  editors 
and  proprietors,"  issued  the  first  6  numbers,  and  R.  H.  Polk  the  remaining  24.  Advertisement 
was  made  in  '83,  by  H.  E.  Nelson  and  C.  H.  Fisher,  at  Milford,  Mass.,  of  the  Qrc/ir,  an  8-p. 
paper,  devoted  to  the  interests  of  bicyclen  and  tricyclers,  and  issued  by  them  on  the  isth  o( 
every  month,  at  35  c  a  year;  but  I  have  never  been  able  to  secure  a  specimen,  or  extract 
any  oth<»r  information  than  that  "  the  issue  was  confined  to  6  or  7  numbers."  The  birth  of  the 
Hamilton  Whttl  Journal^  planned  as  a  monthly,  was  announced  late  in  May,  '8$ ;  but  I  never 
heard  of  a  second  number.  Of  the  same  date  was  the  YaU  Cyclist^  designed  to  advertise  the 
races  of  the  Yale  R.  C.  Similarly,  the  fourth  annual  parade  and  fall  races  of  the  New  Haven  B. 
C.  were  promofMl  by  the  l/tw  Hanen  Bieych  Heraldic  pp. ,  Sept. ,  '83,  price  5  c);  andthe 
ht'h  IVhethn'MH  (8  pp.,  D?c.,  '84,  ctrcniation  5000)  was  issued  in  support  of  an  exhibitiRiil 
enterprising  dub  of  that  name.  The  Lawrence  B.  C.  likewise  issued  the 
Jan.  and  Feb.,  '84.  The  Bicycle,  "  Vol.  i,,  l^o.  i.".(8  pp.,  illustrated,  FeKr» 
KshM  by  W.  M.  Wright,  160  Fulton  st.,  N.  Y., "  for  gratuitous  distribution  as  m^ 
nothing  more  nor  less."    The  CatuuUtm  WkcHmeu^a  earliest  ps^  (Sept.,  ^' 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  66 x 

•defunct  the  HamUton  Bi^yclt,  which  perhaps  never  reached  a  second  issue ;  and  even  a  first 
issue  was  never  achieved  by  the  A&unt  H'Jue/,  "which  was  proJLCted  in  Nov.,  '84,  at  Bangor,  by 
W.  F.  Stone.  Perhaps  1  shouid  add  to  the  cataiugue  the  California  AtkUU^  "  a  weekly  jdtir- 
aial  of  Pacific  sports  and  pastimes"  (8  pp.,  1^3.50),— also  described  as  "devoted  to  legitimate 
sports,  and  published  every  Saturday  by  Ben  Ben>min,"~which  made  nine  appearances  at  San 
Francisco  between  Apr.  1 1  and  Dec  19,  '85,  and  afterwards  transferred  its  good-will  and  editor 
to  the  Jngieside.  This  b  a  well-printed  weekly  <i6  pp.,  $3,  June,  '83),  largely  given  to  local 
political  comment  and  iight  literature ;  and  one  of  its  departments,  edited  by  C.  A.  Biederman, 
with  the  title  "  Pacific  Sports  and  Pastimes,"  is  called  "  the  official  organ  of  the  Cal.  Division 
•of  the  League/*  and  exhibits  its  badge  and  list  of  officers. 

Thb  American  Cvcung  Press  of  1886. 

As  my  account  of  the  Wheelman  has  shown  that  it  was  in  fact  a  "  trade  circular,"  whose 
«xpensiveness  caused  its  early  discontinuance,  the  less-ornate  and  less  pretentious  cycling  jour- 
nals which  still  exist  can  lay  c!aim  to  no  higher  title.  Their  sole  reliance  for  support  is  the 
patronage  of  advertisers ;  for  if  they  seek  subscribers,  by  the  offer  of  "  news  and  other  interest- 
ing reading  matter,"  it  is  only  to  use  the  same  as  a  basis  for  the  sale  of  "  advertising  space." 
The  two  which  occupy  a  commanding  position  in  regard  to  this  arc  the  L.  A.  W.  Bulletm 
<io,ooo  circ)  and  tho  Whe»lm*fCs  Gatette  {11,000  circ),  for  each  of  them  distributes  more  copies 
than  all  the  other  journals  combined.  Each  can  therefore  afford  to  maintain  high  rates  and  to 
hold  itself  quite  independent  of  any  tradesman's  favor  or  "  influence."  As  the  Bulletin  is  sent 
free  to  every  member  of  the  Lea<*uc,  and  as  its  printed  mailing-lists  of  nearly  10,000  names  are  pub- 
licly accessible,  the  editor  and  publisher  l.as  no  need  of  talking  with  advertisers  about  the  genuine- 
ness of  its  "  circulation.'*  The  problem  before  him  simply  is  to  offset  the  dry  '*  official  notices  " 
with  such  an  amount  of  interesting  reading  matter  as  shall  convince  them  that  the  paper  is  in 
fact  read.  The  problem  before  the  managers  of  the  other  weeklies  is  to  convince  advertisers 
ihat  a  smaller  circulation,  as  compared  with  the  Bulletin's,  is  atoned  for  by  greater  readableness 
as  well  as  lower  rates.    (Its  history  has  been  given  in  the  chapter  on  the  League.    See  p.  6so.) 

The  object  of  the  Wheelmen's  G'awette  is  to  advertise  the  annual  tournament  of  the  Spring- 
field Bicycle  Cub,  and  the  excellent  typography  of  the  Springfield  Printing  Company,— the 
editor  and  manager,  Henry  E.  Ducker  (b.  June  37,  '48)  being  president  of  the  former  and 
superintendent  of  the  latter.  Having  thus  a  definite  business-basis  which  the  other  papers  lack, 
he  is  enabled  to  undersell  them  and  attract  an  enormous  mass  of  half-dollar  subscribers,~>esti- 
mated  to  outnumber  theirs  and  the  membership  of  the  League  combined.  As  these  lists  of 
names  are  constantly  changing,  they  are  kept  in  manuscript,  but  in  such  shape  as  to  be  readily 
accessible  to  any  advertiser  who  wishes  to  assure  himself  as  to  the  localities  chiefly  represented 
there.  Occasional  summaries  are  published,  showing  the  number  of  towns  and  of  subscribers 
that  the  paper  is  sent  to  in  each  State ;  and  the  other  journals  are  challenged  to  make  a  similar 
exhibit.  Their  refusal  to  do  this,  or  to  allow  the  inspection  of  their  subscription-books  and 
mailinf^-lists  by  outsiders,  carries  its  own  lesson.  The  editor  of  the  Gaaette  keeps  on  file  the 
name  and  address  of  every  American  wheelman  that  he  can  discover,  and  once  a  year  he  sends 
to  each  a  sample  copy  of  the  paper,  with  a  request  that  the  postmaster  return  it  if  undelivered. 
Kam<*s  thus  retnmed  are  set  aside  until  correct  addresses  can  be  found,  and  the  list  is  in  this 
way  kept  fresh  and  trustworthy.  It  is  arranged  by  States  and  towns,  and  is  incomparably  the 
larirest  and  most  authentic  record  of  the  sort  in  existence.  The  names  upon  it,  Aug.  i,  *86, 
numbered  28,433,  but  probably  included  no  more  than  half  the  wheelmen  of  the  country.  The 
«wner  of  this  list,  though  freely  exhibiting  it,  will  not  allow  copies  to  be  taken,  but  he  will  agree 
to  tend  tl«iiMMM^4MStfMie*t  areolars,  and  the  like,  to  all  the  addresses  mentioned,  or  to  any 
4MniA  V<4MlHHllttiP$ji'l!lN^^  ^^^'^'    H®  ^^^  hardly  more  than  8000  of  these  ad- 

of  the  CoMtte  (Apr.,  '83>,  "  published  monthly  by 

tfODftaniflllt  in  Sept.^    His  valedictory  of  that 

! Iht  ptper  has  not  been  read, — 70,000 

"'new  announcements  with  *  good 


662  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

reading/  we  soooeeded  in  making  ao  adveitiaement  wfaidi  could  not  escape  attration.  We  haTe 
not  stayed  long  enough  to  wear  out  our  welcome,  and  we  are  confident  that  we  should  be  kindly 
received  if  we  should  ever  come  again."  The  first  four  numbers  each  had  i6  pp. ;  the  other 
two  were  a  third  larger,  and  all  were  given  away,  in  spite  of  the  imprint,  "  Price  lo  c**  The 
reading  matter  occupied  the  inner  half  of  the  paper,  in  triple  columns  of  leaded  brevier,  and 
the  advertisemenU  were  restricted  to  8  or  lo  of  the  outer  pages.  "  Vol.  II.,  No.  i  "  (May,  '84> 
proclaimed  that  the  GaafgtU  would  thenceforth  be  a  permanent  monthly  journal  of  cycling,  en- 
tered for  second-class  mail-rates  at  the  post-oflSce,  sdd  for  5  c  a  copy  or  50  c.  a  year  (50  c  to 
clubs  of  ao  or  more),  and  printed  from  plates  formed  on  a  new  font  of  type.  The  reading  mat> 
ter  of  the  la  numbers  was  paged  regularly  from  1  to  aia,  and  the  numerous  advertising  page» 
were  sandwiched  between  in  such  a  way  that,  in  case  of  binding,  they  may  all  be  removed  with- 
out disturbing  it.  The  reading  matter  of  the  3d  vol.  was  also  paged  to  aia,  exclusive  of  the 
advertising  pages  which  were  interspersed  as  before,  but  it  came  to  a  sudden  end  with  the  nth 
number  (Mar.,  '86),  on  account  of  a  daim  raised  by  the  Overman  Wheel  Co.  that  its  title-page 
could  not  be  sold  to  any  other  patron.  Rather  than  submit  to  such  a  view  of  their  contract, 
the  G€tMttte*s  publishers  voted  to  dissolve  partnership,  put  a  legal  end  to  the  paper,  and  arrange 
with  H.  £.  Ducker  to  fill  all  unexpired  subscriptions  with  a  new  monthly  WheeltiutC*  GtuetU, 
whose  first  number  appeared  in  April.  The  removal  of  the  adjective  Sprrngfield^  whidi  be- 
longed to  the  original  title,  rather  improves  the  looks  of  the  head-line ;  otherwise,  the  new  issue 
is  the  counterpart  of  the  old, — the  size  of  page  (9  by  la  in.)  having  remained  tmchanged  from 
the  start,— but  it  is  called  "  Vol.  1.*'  instead  of  "  Vol.  IV."  Since  Apr.,  '85,  the  plan  has  been 
observed  of  having  the  outside  pages  or  cover  vary  in  color,  from  month  to  month, — thus  render- 
ing easy  the  selection  of  different  issues  when  piled  together.  Portraits,  pictorial  initials,  litho- 
graphic or  wood-engraved  cartoons  and  illustrated  advertising  supplements  also  help  give  variety 
to  the  Gaaettt.  It  accepts  half-yearly  subscriptions  for  as  c,  but  the  rate  is  doubled  on  all 
copies  mailed  abroad,  because  of  increased  postage.  The  American  News  Co.,  of  N.  Y.,  is  its 
agency  for  supplying  the  trade ;  and  it  has  an  arrangement  with  the  publisher  of  WhuUng^ 
whereby  that  English  weekly  may  be  mailed  from  London  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  and 
also  the  Gcuette  from  Springfield,  on  payment  to  the  latter  of  $2  a  year,  which  is  the  price  of 
the  former  alone.  In  Jan.,  '85,  its  Canadian  subscribers  exceeded  800,  England  supplied  nearly 
aoo,  and  other  foreign  countries  50;  though  I  suppose  that  the  rest  of  the  American  wheel 
papers  have  no  outside  circulation  whatever.  The  tjrpography  of  the  GomHU  is  not  only  hand- 
somer  than  that  of  any  other  journal  produced  by  the  cycling  trade  in  any  part  of  the  worid,  but 
it  is  much  more  accurate, — being  in  fact  the  only  one  printed  from  electrotype  plates,  after 
careful  proof-reading.  The  three  volumes  of  the  first  series,  bound  in  paper  covers,  with  the 
advertisements  cmiitted,  are  supplied  at  50  c.  each,  though  no  index  or  contents-table  has  been 
printed  for  either  of  them.  The  editorial  work  is  all  done  by  the  manager  in  person,  outside  of 
office-hours ;  and,  while  there  is  no  pretense  of  maintaining  a  high  standard  of  literary  excellence 
in  regard  to  this,  or  in  regard  to  the  correspondence  and  contributions  admitted,  the  jgeneral  effect 
is  pleasing  and  satisfactory.  The  maun  purpose  of  the  paper,  to  compel  the  wide  world's  atten- 
tion to  the  annual  Springfield  tournament,  is  never  lost  sight  of  ;  but  this  does  not  i»event  the 
appearance  of  a  vast- deal  of  interesting  reading-matter  whose  duuacter  is  more  general,  and  of 
much  good  writing.  Indeed,  for  any  carefully-written  article,  deugned  to  influence  cyclers,  the 
GoMtiU  is  now  the  most  attractive  and  effective  medium, — for  the  BuUetin's  space  is  more 
limited  and  the  other  papers  run  mostly  to  short  paragraphs.  Publication  day  is  usually  about 
the  middle  of  the  month,  though  it  varies,  according  to  circumstances,  from  the  5th  to  the  asth. 
Perhaps  it  is  because  of  the  brightness  of  early  associations  that  the  first  vdume  of  the  Bi^jh- 
clittf  IVorldi^x  pp.  in  a6  fortnightly  numbers ;  Nov.  15,  '79,  to  Oct.  30,  *8o ;  $».y>  a  year  or 
10  c.  a  copy)  seems  to  me  superior  to  any  which  have  succeeded  it.  At  all  events,  I  think  the 
cyding  trade  in  this  country  has  never  since  been  represented  by— and  is  never  likely  again  to  be 
represented  by — so  well-edited  and  decent  a  newspaper.  The  publication  office  was  at  40  State 
St.,  Boston,  until  Oct.  aS,  '81 ;  then  at  8  Pemberton  Square  (see  p.  104)  until  the  destruction  of  the 
building  caused  a  removal,  Feb.  a6,  '86;  rince  which  time  it  has  been  at  179  Tremont  St.,  ovcfw 


LITER  A  TURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  663 

looking  the  Common.  The  later  volumes  (dating  from  Nov.  12,  *8o)  have  each  consisted  of  26 
weekly  numbers,  paged  as  follows :  II,  420;  III,  320;  IV,  316  ;  V,  320  (numbered  from  317  to 
636);  VI,  316;  VII,  350;  VIII,  362;  IX,  446;  X,49o;  XI,  608;  XII,  soa  The  set  of  12 
vols.,  bound,  may  still  be  procured  for  $15,  or  single  bound  vols,  for  $2,  though  only  a  few  of 
the  first  four  are  left.  Elach  is  supplied  with  a  title-page  and  contents-table  (except  Vol.  Ill), 
and  the  series  deserves  a  place  in  every  reference-library  which  desires  to  possess  the  best  con- 
nected history  of  the  growth  of  American  cycling  for  the  period  covered.  The  annual  rate  was 
%l  during  the  second  volume,  %%  for  the  next  five  years,  and  on  June  4,  '86,  was  reduced  to  $1, 
— single  copies  being  priced  at  10  c.  until  May  13,  '81 ;  then  7  c.  until  June  7,  '84,  and  5  c.  since. 
The  B.  tV.  had  16  pp.  during  the  xo  c.  period,  12  pp.  during  the  7  c.  period,  and  x6  pp.  to  24  pp. 
since,  with  occasional  additions  to  each  of  those  sizes.  The  shape  has  always  been  9  by  12  in., 
and  the  paper  of  a  pale  lemon  tint  The  printing  has  been  done  by  Alfred  Mudge  &  Son,  except 
that  the  first  volume  was  from  the  press  of  Rockwell  &  Churchill.  Double-columns  were  used 
for  the  first  20  numbers,  giving  a  better  typographic  e£Eect  than  the  triple-columns  since  in 
vogue ;  and  the  earliest  heading,  which  was  of  simple  block-letters  and  lasted  about  as  long, 
seemed  superior  to  the  more  ornate  one  now  current  This  was  adopted  Aug.  7,  '80,  having 
'•'  &*  Archery  Field  "  attached,  and,  when  the  latter  excrescence  was  removed  (May  13,  '81),  an 
arrow  was  left  sticking  in  the  initial  of  IVor/d,  as  a  reminder  of  it  Between  the  dates  men- 
tioned, 2  or  3  pages  of  each  issue  were  given  to  archery,  and  "  and  Archery  Field'*  was  the  head- 
line of  every  right-hand  page.  Announcement  was  then  made  that  a  separate  sheet  of  that 
name  would  be  issued  fortnightly  at  $t  a  year;  but  I  suppose  the  archers  soon  let  it  die.  (Its 
Patt-morteni  "  good-will  "  attached  to  the  Archery  df  Tennis  AVwj,  which  I  describe  later  as 
dying  in  the  arms  of  the  Cyclist  &•  Athlete  ;  and  this  in  turn  passed  the  "  good-will  "  along  to 
the  archery  column  of  its  successor,  ReereeUion,)  The  name  of  Charles  £.  Pratt  (b.  Mar.  13, 
'45),  as  sole  editor  and  manager,  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  B.  W.^  from  Nov.  15,  '79,  to  Dec. 
31,  '80;  then  for  7  weeks,  "  C.  E.  Pratt  and  Louis  Harrison,  editors  "  ;  then  from  Feb.  25  to 
May  6,  "L.  Harrison,  editor;  C.  E.  Pratt  and  Will  H.  Thompson,  editorial  contributors." 
Here  ended  the  archery  foolishness  and  the  volume,  to  whose  clumsy  double-heading  had  been 
atuched  the  repulsive  legend  "  A  Weekly  Journal  of  Polite  Athletics."  Hardly  less  sickening 
than  this  to  the  heart  of  a  true  wheelman,  was  the  phrase  which  had  disfigured  the  otherwise 
simple  heading  of  the  first  volume  :  "  A  Journal  of  Bicycling,  Archery  and  other  Polite  Ath- 
letics ;  "  but,  since  the  beginning  of  the  third  volume,  the  B.  W.  has  kept  its  title  clear  from 
all  such  irrelevant  nutter.  Only  8  issues  of  that  volume  carried  the  name  "  L.  Harrison, 
editor,"  however ;  for  on  July  i,  after  a  half-year's  service,  he  printed  a  valedictory,  introduc- 
ing as  his  successor  "  Wm.  E.  Gilman,  president  of  the  Chelsea  B.  C,  an  enthusiastic  wheelman 
for  over  three  years,  and  a  joumalut  of  considerable  experience,  having  conducted  a  suburban 
newspaper  and  reported  for  one  of  the  Boston  dailies  for  several  years."  He  in  turn  offered  a 
farewell,  Feb.  23,  '83,  naming  his  successor,  J.  S.  Dean,  as  a  "  valued  assistant  to  the  paper 
almost  from  the  first  number,"— his  name  having  in  fact  been  regularly  printed  from  Jan.  13, 
'82,  as  "  editorial  contributor,"  which  title  was  thenceforth  accredited  to  C.  W.  Fourdrinier, 
until  Jan.  23,  '85.  Meanwhile,  beginning  with  Feb.  15,  '84,  "  Abbot  Bassett,  managing  editor," 
had  been  printed  alongside  the  other  two,  ranking  second ;  and  on  Jan.  30,  '85,  the  style  became 
"  J.  S.  Dean  and  A.  Bassett,  editors."  This  lasted  but  three  months,  and  then  A.  Bassett 
was  named  as  sole  editor.  May  8,  '85,  to  Mar.  19,  '86,  when  he  withdrew  to  start  a  paper  of  his 
own,  the  Cycle,  Apr.  2.  On  that  date  the  editorship  was  resumed  again  by  C.  W.  Fourdrinier 
and  J.  S.  Dean  (joined  by  F.  W.  Weston,  who  retired  May  7). 

The  plan  of  printing  the  names  of  editor  and  publisher  as  a  part  of  the  heading  was  last 
observed  Dec.  7,  '83 ;  since  when  they  have  appeared  on  the  editorial  page  only.  "The  Offidal 
Organ  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen  "  formed  a  part  of  the  heading  from  Nov.  11,  '81, 
to  May  25,  '83,  and  "  Devoted  to  the  Interests  of  Bicycling  and  Tricycling  "  has  since  stood  in 
place  of  it.  Though  advertisements  were  allowed  to  intrude  upon  the  title-page  as  early  as  the 
ninth  number,  they  did  not  take  entire  possession  of  it  until  July  22,  '81,  and  they  were  restricted 
to  the  outer  pages  for  two  years  following;  but  on  Aug.  3,  '83,  all  pretense  of  typographical 


664  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

attractiveness  was  abandoned,  by  adopting  the  plan  which  has  since  prevailed,  of  interpdatiqg 
such  advertisements  into  the  body  of  the  paper,  and  "  displaying  "  them  with  enormous  blade 
type.  Hence,  the  B.  H^.U  appearance  is  that  of  a  collection  of  tradesmen's  handbills,  stock 
together  by  a  few  columns  of  letter-press ;  and  this  description  applies  about  as  well  to  nearly 
all  the  other  trade-circulars  which  make  up  the  cycling  journalism  of  America  and  England. 
"  Published  every  Friday  by  E.  C.  Hodges  &  Co."  was  a  formula  of  many  years*  standing, 
which  gave  place,  on  Apr.  2,  '86,  to  "  by  Bi.  Worid  Co.,"  which  had  been  the  formula  daring 
the  first  year.  I  suppose  most  of  the  money  has  always  been  supplied  by  Mr.  Hodges  (one  of 
the  founders  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  and  a  long  time  its  president),  who,  in  his  earlier  days  as  a 
broker,  supplied  it  "  for  fun,"  to  gratify  his  enthusiasm  in  helfTrng  spread  the  gospel  of  cycling, 
and  who  now,  as  a  stockhokler  in  the  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  thinks  the  paper  worth  the  cost  of 
continuance,  as  a  sort  of  advertisement  of  this  company's  wares.  Announcement  was  made, 
Sept.  12,  'i^,  that  "  the  B.  IV.  has  been  sold  to  J.  S.  Dean  and  A.  Bassett " ;  and  again.  May  i, 
85  :  "  The  partnership  existing  between  J.  S.  Dean  and  A.  Bassett  has  been  dissolved  by  mu- 
tual  consent.  Mr.  D.  will  still  continue  with  the  paper,  as  editorial  contributor  and  writer  tm 
special  topics,  and  the  business  will  continue  under  the  same  firm  name  as  heretofore."  As  this 
firm  name  remained  "  E.  C.  H.  &  Co.,"  instead  of  "  D.  &  B.,"  during  the  period  of  the 
alleged  partnership,  the  inference  is  that  the  purchase  money  was  never  paid,— the  editor  pre- 
ferring to  draw  his  certain  salary  rather  than  grasp  at  the  uncertain  profit  of  actual  ownership. 
A  dissolution  of  partnership,  under  the  firm  name  "  Bi.  Worid  Co.,"  between  E.  C.  Hodges, 
C.  E.  Pratt  and  F.  W.  Weston,  was  announced  Jan.  7,  '81,  and  at  the  same  time  the  asso- 
ciation of  the  two  former,  with  L.  Harrison,  under  the  firm  name,  "  E.  C  H.  &  Co."  Mr. 
Pratt's  editorial  valedictory  (Apr.  29,  '81),  giving  a  short  history  of  the  paper,  said  it  was 
"  projected  in  Aug.,  '79,  but  was  delayed  three  months  for  the  acceptance  of  a  liberal  offer  Cor 
the  purchase  of  the  fugitive  but  enthusiastic  Am.  Bi.  Journal.  The  genial  promoter  of  that 
harbinger  of  our  literature  was  associated  with  us  as  publisher  until  last  January,  though  at  the 
same  time  connected  with  a  wheel  importing  house ;  but,  with  that  exception,  there  has  been 
no  connection,  of  publisher  or  editor,  with  any  manufacturer,  importing  house  or  agency."  A 
fortni£;ht  later  the  {laper  said  :  "  Mr.  Pratt  has  removed  his  office  to  the  salesrooms  of  the  Pope 
M%.  Co.,  and  will  attend  to  the  legal  business  of  that  corporation.  He  will  not,  however, 
relinquish  his  general  law  practice,  but  will  give  attention  as  heretofore  to  patent  and  general  lav 
business."  A  year  later  (May  5,  '82),  the  Popes  withdrew  their  advertisement,  which  had  been 
a  feature  of  the  B.  fV.  from  the  outset,  because  its  publisher  refused  to  insert  their  reply  to  the 
critidsms  of  a  correspondent,  "  except  as  a  paid  business  notice  " ;  and  they  did  not  resume  pat- 
ronage until  Sept.  21,  *8^  (the  "spedal  Springfield  number"). 

From  the  time  of  this  rupture,  the  tone  of  the  paper  has  been  uniformly  hostile  towards  its 
fintt  editor,  the  Popes'  attorney.  His  wheeling  autobiography  may  be  found  on  p.  503,  and 
similar  reports  from  his  two  latest  successors  on  p.  525.  This  pair  of  quondam  partners  aro 
at  swords*  points,  and  the  B.  H\  continually  attacks  Mr.  Bassett,  whose  circular  announcing  the 
Cycle  (a  i6-p.  sheet,  which  has  been  issued  every  Friday  since  Apr.  2,  from  the  same  press  of 
A.  Mudge  &  Son)  was  as  follows  :  "  After  an  experience  of  5  years  in  the  editorial  chair  [and 
business  department]  of  the  B.  W.,\  am  obMged  to  give  up  the  position  because  the  future 
policy  mapped  out  for  that  paper  by  the  proprietor  is  not  one  that  I  can  endorse.  I  have  deter- 
mined  to  start  an  independent  weekly,  which  will  have  no  interest  for  or  against  any  manufact- 
urer or  dealer.  I  shall  give  all  the  news,  but  I  shall  let  the  courts  decide  matters  in  dispute 
between  parties  in  litigation.  I  recognize  more  than  any  one  else  that  the  field  of  cycling  pefv 
odicals  is  already  overcrowded,  but '  there 's  always  room  at  the  top,'  and  that 's  where  I  want  to 
be.  I  shall  have  a  full  corps  of  able  correspondents,  many  of  whom  follow  me  into  ray  new 
home,  and  I  can  safely  promise  a  readable  and  an  instructive  paper."  The  manager  of  the  B.  Ifl 
having  made  a  formal  attack  on  him,  because  of  this,  in  the  Bttlfetin,  he  replied  in  that  paper  ■• 
follows(May  21,  p.  450^  first  explaining  that  the  three  words  which  I  have  bracketed  were  omitted 
from  the  circular  by  a  printer's  error :  "  I  joined  the  force  of  the  B.  IV.  in  *8i  and  was  with  it 
within  a  few  months  of  5  years.     So  long  as  Mr.  Oilman  was  editor,  I  had  little,  if  anything,  !• 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL. 


66s 


<lawilh  cdiUniil  mrk.  When  Ihe  £.  (Kifound  iuiQcomc  nducHlby  JuG^ht  wiih  Ibe  Popa 
UIg.  Co.  .  Mr.  (}.  hid  lo  rElirii  to  htc  «pen>;,  Hud  I  biscinie  edilsr  in  lacl,  though  iwt  iu  iianiE. 
Ml.  Dun  wai  bellci  LDDn  su  a  CfC^er  Ihin  I  mi  and  his  uame  mi  put  forwird  u  editor, 
though  lU  his  DLiDiaciipl  »cul  lhro;i::h  d}  higds  [or  eoircdioii  lud  (.-visisa.  Wlisa  Ur.  D. 
accepted  the  poailion  ol  attoracy  lor  the  Coireotry  Machioist  Co.  lie  woi  discharged  from  tha 
B.  JK  because  39  allonie)'  lor  that  company  ho  was  opposed  to  the  Overman  WUeeJ  Co.,  wha 
•men  preSHue  Ibe  Coientry  people  on  th:  Bum  piient.  From  tb;  tim:  oi  Mr.  D.'s  ditmissl  I 
was  both  editor  and  ediioiial  writcc,  Ibauch  1  wis  fenced  la  publish  ulicles  that  did  not  meet 
Biy  approral.  Wiih  this  alalement  of  tbi  cue  I  hava  done  wilh  it.  I  leaTE  my  [Heads  of  the 
League  lo  dcd<k  whether  or  no  1  have  played  the  honorable  part.  Had  1  been  allowed  lo  con- 
duct the  paper  according  to  the  dictates  of  mycooscieocc  and  [:ood  buuoesa  policy  T  should 
have  been  in  my  otd  chair  today."  The  CjfcU  ii  pLbliabLul  at  aa  School  St.,  and  has  advenisA- 
ments  ai>d  rsading  jnallcr  ou  allctnate  pages.    Aa  \a  rata  ij  %i.*p,  the  rcduciioii  from  %i  to  %\ 

a  third  larger,     lis  best  chaoce  of  longevity  inhcm  in  the  f4C1  that  the  Pope  MIg.  Co.  may  [ee^    ' 
disposedtoprevept  iuobljteTatioLtbytbeo]d'efltabJiflhedlTade<ircularof  Iheoppoution  concern. 
An  example  of  Mr.  Basset  t'a  Industry  as  a  comt^ler  was  given  in  tbj  "iF.  W.  special  num- 
ber" (J'n-  1. 'Siland  "special  number  supplement "  (Oct.  i,  '&%),  which  contained  Lcagu* 

easily  obainable.    Hie  A  »*.  hasalsooccauoually  published  wood.cut  porUaits  indcarioouii 

the  foundation  of  the  League  until  May  15,  't%,  it  leived  saiisfactDrily  as  its  "  orpn  "  (as  de- 

benhip  iu  the  English  C.  T.  C.  Though  profasing  still  to  favor  the  League,  and  to  have  no 
learof  its  £»^/jii  as  a  business competitorj  the  writer  of  any  hostile  onunent  concerning  either 
isalwaysaure  of  awelcome  toils  colunms.  Mr.  Dean  was  catalogued  as  a  f  pedal  atitdent  al 
the  Harvard  Law  School,  in  '3]-4,  and  has  sine;  practiced  thai  profession  at  iS  State  s).  Ha 
has  taken  two  or  three  trips  lo  Europe,  and  he  figured  somewhat  on  the  racing-path,  in  tha 
earlier  days  oi  the  sport.  His  conneciion  with  the  B.  W.  has  been  thai  of  ■  freelance. 
He  seems  LO  enjoy  playing  with  the  paper,  when  nothing  more  Important  is  al  hand ;  and  his 
pen  iceras  moil  effective  when  pointed  wilh  satire  and  sarcasm,  Mr.  Basaell,  on  the  other 
hand,  belongs  10  thj  sleady-gdng,  "  heavy-respectable  "  type  of  wiiter,  and  I  believe  Ik  is  the 
only  man  In  America  who  has  earned  a  livelihood  forasmuch  as  five  years  by  excluiive  devolion 
to  the  businui  ol  cycling  journalism.  The  B-  iV.  represents  the  expenditure  of  moro  hard 
work,  and  more  money,  than  any  of  ihe  other  younger  trade^iiculaTi  which  compste  iinlh  il ; 
■nd  much  miimanag^mint  will  b:  required  to  destroy  th:  traditional  presi^  thus  won  (s  an 
■nterprising  and  d:c:iilly-wrilten  newspaper.  It  is  quoted  more  frequently  than  the  yDuiger 
prints,  and  (in  proponioia  loin  circulation,  about  which  Ihe  proprietora  have  always  kept  silent) 
is  probably  read  more  carefully.     Its  present  chief  editor,  Mr.  Fourdrinier  (b.  Mar.  14,  '54*  is  a 

past,  though  hi  \iw  always  don?  more  or  leu  writing  for  the  press. 

"In  the  fall  of  'So,  three  enthusiastic  cyclers  wen  ulling  in  theoRke  ol  Wm,  M.  Wright,  bicy- 
cle dealer,  at  16a  Fulton  st.    One  was  a  praclicil  printer,  another  a  newspaper  writer,  and  th* 
Ihird  a  bminen  man.    The  talk  w 
ul^ect  of  hi.  literatim.    Thepra:>o 
nightly  £.  W..  Ihe  only  pap?r  Ihin 


666  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Jenkins,  ed.  and  proprietor ;  M.  Lazare,  associate  ed. ;  C.  Otto  Manny,  business  manager.'* 
The  latter  name  did  not  again  appear,  and  the  second  was  last  printed  with  No.  8.  "  Julios 
Wilcox,  associate  ed.,"  appeared  with  No.  15,  and  continued  for  just  a  year,  or  till  Apr.  12,  '8a. 
He  usually  signed  "J.  W.*'  to  his  writings,  which  were  of  a  serious  and  aignmentative  sort; 
and  he  has  since  printed  considerable  in  the  B.  IV.  concerning  the  Facile  bi.,  for  which  he  a 
the  American  agent.  The  first  issue  after  his  withdrawal  put  forward  the  new  style,  "  Edited 
and  published  by  the  Wheel  Publishing  Co.,  at  38  Cortlandt  st."  (the  office  of  the  paper  had 
been  there  for  the  first  three  months,  then  at  75  Fulton  st.  for  eleven  months,  and  then  at  187 
Broadway),  and  contained  a  farewell  editorial  from  F.  Jenkins  (b.  Jan.  20,  '59),  saying  :  "  As  we 
have  gone  into  the  wheel  business,  in  the  capacity  of  manager  for  the  Cunningham  Co.'s  N.  Y. 
office,  we  hardly  think  the  best  interests  of  bicycling  can  be  preserved  by  our  remaining  at  the 
head  of  this  paper."  His  name  was  put  at  the  head  again,  however,  five  months  later  (Oct.  4, 
'82),  when  the  third  year  and  volume  began  with  the  formula,  "  issued  every  Wednesday  morn- 
ing at  22  New  Church  st.,  at  $1.50  a  year  "  ;  and  the  name  of  C.  £.  Pratt  was  printed  alongside 
it  as  "  editorial  contributor  "  until  May  4,  '83.  C.  J.  Howard  and  A.  D.  Wheeler  were  named 
as  "  artistic  contributors,"  from  Jan.  24,  to  Nov.  9,  '83 ;  and  ^.  M.  Beckwith  and  W.  V. 
Oilman  as  "  editorial  contributors,"  from  June  i,  '83,  when  the  Wheel  became  "the  official 
organ  of  the  League,"  to  Feb.  29,  '84,  when  Mr.  J.  ceased  to  be  its  corresponding  secretary. 
Meanwhile,  the  name  of  Edwin  Oliver,  as  business  manager,  was  printed  from  Dec  6,  '82,  to 
Feb.  7,  '83,  after  which  the  firm-name  "  Oliver  &  Jenkins  "  took  the  place  of  "  Wheel  Publish- 
ing Co.,"  for  a  year,  and  was  followed  (Feb.  15,  '84)  by  "  Cycling  Publishing  Co."  until  super- 
seded by  "  Central  Press  &  Publishing  Co.,"  Mar.  5,  '86,  when  the  length  of  th^  columns  was 
reduced  a  half-inch.  The  size  of  the  present  page  when  trimmed  is  only  about  a  half-iodi 
longer  and  broader  than  the  regular  9  by  12  in.  untrimmed  page  of  the  WheePs  first  five  volumes. 
From  Apr.  4,  '84,  to  Sept.  25,  '85,  it  was  an  8 p.  sheet,  of  11  by  ii\  in.,'set  in  four  columns; 
and  the  pages  were  then  narrowed  an  inch,  increased  in  number  to  12,  and  set  in  three  columns, 
which  had  been  the  style  from  the  time  the  paper  became  a  weekly.  It  ac^ppted  an  ornamental 
heading  then,  which  lasted  only  six  months,  the  present  one  dating  from  Apr.  6,  '83.  Its  two 
annual  volumes  as  a  fortnightly  had  double  columns  and  a  plain  heading,  and  were  paged  from 
I  to  208.  Their  typography  pleased  me  better  than  that  of  the  weekly,  which  was  paged  from  i 
to  8  or  X  to  12  only,  until  at  the  end  of  '84  the  paging  was  entirely  abandoned.  No  contents-tables 
or  indexes  have  ever  been  printed.  Friday  was  first  noted  as  publication  day  on  Apr.  6,  '83.  Its 
price  was  reduced  from  $1.25  to  $x,  July  6,  '81  (after  B.  )V.  reduced  to  $2) ;  raised  to  $1.50  when 
weekly  issue  began,  Oct.  4 ;  reduced  to  7s  c,  Oct.  5,  '83,  and  raised  again  to  |i.  Mar.  7,  '84. 
Advertisements  early  appeared  on  the  title-page  of  the  fortnightly  but  were  kept  off  that  of  the 
weekly  till  the  close  of  '85  ;  and  the  rule  banishing  them  therefrom  was  again  adopted  June  25,  '86. 
Otherwise,  the  paper  is,  like  the  B.  IV.,  z  *'  sandwich  circular,"  with  handbills  and  letterpress 
alternating.  Vaux  &  Co.,  of  27  Rose  st.,  were  named  as  printers,  June  r  to  Nov.  2,  '83  ;  then 
B.  W.  Dinsmore  &  Co.,  of  15  Frankfort  St.,  to  Mar.  28,-  '84.  The  publication  office  was 
changed  to  21  Park  row,  on  May  30,  '84;  and  then  to  12  Vesey  st.,  May  15,  '85  ;  and  the 
printing  has  since  been  done  there  by  W.  N.  Oliver  &  Co.  (the  junior  partner  being  F.  Jenkins), 
and  the  "  Central  Press  &  Publishing  Co.,"  which  was  adopted  as  a  firm  name  Jan.  22,  '86. 
A  fortnight  later,  the  simple  announcement  was  niade  :  "  Mr.  Fred  Jenkins  on  the  ist  instant 
resigned  his  position  as  editor  of  the  IVAeel,  and  severed  his  connection  with  this  journal." 
Since  then  he  has  established  himself  at  322  W.  59th  st.,  as  dealer  in  cycles,  and  manu&cturer  of 
the  ExcelsicNT  cyclometer  (which  he  introduced  to  the  public  in  the  IVheel  ol  Nov.  20,  '80),  and 
lie  also  finds  time  to  send  a  weekly  "  manifold  "  letter  to  the  Bulletm,  Cycle  and  Sporting  Life. 
No  name  has  been  printed  as  editor  of  the  Wheel  since  Mar.  7,  '84 ;  but  the  practical  work  of 
editorship  has  been  performed  since  Apr.  3,  '85  (except  Oct. ,'85,  to  Mar., '86),  by  Francis  P.  Prial 
(b.  Nov.  22,  '63),  who  had  been  similarly  employed  by  the  Cyclist  &»  Athlete  from  June,  '84. 
At  the  time  of  the  tournament  of  '83,  in  order  to  give  greater  vogue  to  the  "  Springfield 
number  of  the  B.  W.,"  the  publisher  thereof  suppressed  the  IVAeel  for  two  weeks,  by  the  tridc 
of  persuading  the  authorities  at  Washington  to  "  investigate"  its  right  of  circulating  in  the 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  667 

nMiIs  at  the  seoond-daM  rate  of  postage  accorded  to  reg:istered  newipapen.  The  withdrawal  of 
this  right  would  have  been  ruinous^  because  the  payment  ol  third-class  postage  would  have 
swallowed  up  the  narrow  maigio  of  profit  on  the  contract  for  supplying  the  paper  to  the  League. 
Of  course,  the  right  was  not  withdrawn  ;  but  the  "  investigation  "  served  the  purpose  of  annoy- 
ing each  member  of  the  League  by  delaying  two  copies  of  his  p^>er.  The  Whttl  explained  the 
matter,  Oct.  la,  and  the  B.  IV.  defended  its  act,  Oct.  19.  It  gave  another  proof  of  affection  for 
its  rival,  Feb.  39,  '84,  by  publishing  the  following  "  strictly  confidential "  circular,  under  pre- 
tense that  the  fact  of  its  being  printed  on  an  official  letter-head  showed  an  "  evident  intention 
to  use  the  League  to  bolster  and  give  color  to  this  scheme  "  :  "  In  order  to  extend  the  utility  of 
the  tVkeelf  it  is  proposed  to  incorporate  the  Cycling  Pub.  Co.,  under  the  laws  of  '48,  and  issue 
300  shares  of  stock  at  $35,  to  form  a  capital  of  I5000.  Half  of  this  stock  will  be  issued  to  Oliver 
&  Jenkins,  in  payment  for  the  good-will,  subscription-list  and  advertising  contracta  of  the  Wheels 
and  the  remaining  100  shares  will  form  a  working  capital  of  ^500,  which  we  consider  ample. 
The  publishing  expenses  are  moderate  and  can  be  kept  at  a  low  figure.  Mr.  J.  will  be  retained 
as  editor  and  manager,  at  a  weekly  salary  of  f  35,  and  Mr.  O.  will  superintend  the  advertising 
business  on  a  commission.  As  he  will  be  on  the  road  all  this  year,  the  advertising  can,  no  doubt, 
be  largely  increased,  and  the  paper  enlarged  to  16  pp.  From  the  business  of  last  year,  we  feel 
that  we  can  almost  guarantee  a  dividend  of  from  so  to  xz  per  cent.  Shoukl  you  care  to  enter 
into  the  scheme,  we  will  submit  figures,  showing  the  net  profits  under  past  management.  Upon 
subscribing,  35  per  cent,  is  to  be  paid,  and  the  balance  in  three  equal  monthly  payments.  Your 
ansaver  will  not  be  considered  as  a  subscription,  but  it  is  necessary  to  ascertain  the  feeling  in  the 
matter  before  placing  the  stock  on  the  market  and  incorporating  the  company,  £.  Oliver,  F. 
Jenkins,  N.  M.  Beckwith,  W.  A.  Bryant,  and  othen,  mcorporaton.  Address  replies  to  F.  J." 
How  much  of  a  "  working  cafntal  '*  may  have  been  raised  in  this  way  I  am  not  aware,  but  I 
presume  it  was  all  worked  out  when  the  "  Cycling  Pub.  Co."  made  its  last  appearance,  Feb. 
36,  '86.  The  Wkttl  called  itself  the  "  Official  organ  of  the  (B.)  C.  T.  C.  in  America,"  from 
June  6,  *8a,  to  Feb.  39,  '84 ;  and  its  year's  experience  as  League  organ  has  been  detailed  00  p. 
619.  The  chief  advertiser  during  the  fortnightly  period  was  the  Cunninghaun  Co.,  after  which 
the  Popes  took  the  lead ;  and  it  was  during  the  period  of  rupton  with  the  B.  iV.  that  their 
attorney,  Mr.  Pratt,  figured  as  "  editorial  contributor  "  to  the  first  31  weekly  issues  of  the  Wketl 
and  helped  persuade  the  League  to  adopt  it  as  organ.  An  obituary  of  S.  C.  Foster  (d.  Mar.  8, 
'85,  ae.  31)  mentioned  him  as  having  suggested  the  paper's  name  and  contributed  much  to  iu 
eariier  issues.  Boston  news  waa  sent  to  it  in  those  days  by  "  Handy  Andy,"  the  present  mana> 
ger  of  the  B,  IV.  Perhaps  its  most  persistent  contributor  was  Frank  A.  Egan,  president  of  the 
Ixion  B.  C,  who  never  used  that  signature,  but  preferred  to  print  his  paragraphs  beneath  the 
figure  of  an  owl,  standing  on  a  bicycle's  handle-bar,  with  a  pen  in  his  daw.  This  appeared 
Apr.  6,  '83,  and  pretty  regukriy  for  a  year  and  a  half  following ;  while  longer  articles  by  the 
same  writer  were  signed  "  Selah  "  and  "  The  Owl."  The  pictures  furnished  by  C.  J.  Howard 
and  A.  D.  Wheeler  formed  an  attractive  feature  during  '83 ;  and  a  few  portraits  and  other  de- 
signs had  illuminated  previous  issues.  The  Whnfs  "  special  number  "  of  Apr.  3,  '8$,  giving 
an  illustrated  programme  of  the  "  Big  Four  tour,"  was  also  a  pronounced  success.  The  policy 
of  its  manager  was  always  favorable  to  givmg  a  "  free  boom  "  to  whatever  aeemed  of  interest  to 
cyden,— in  contrast  to  the  B.  W.  plan  of  carefully  rejecting  all  "  gratuitous  advertising,"  in  the 
hope  of  fordng  a  sale  of  iU  columns  for  "  reading  notices."  The  present  publishen  make  a 
specialty  of  "  dubbing  rates  "  with  other  journals,  so  that  subscribere  who  send  in  their  money 
to  13  Vesey  st.  "  in  effect  receive  the  Wkttt  free."  An  offer  to  mail  the  Wked  free  to  each  of 
the  1600  League  memben  of  the  N.  Y.  Division,  for  the  sake  of  the  advertising  patronage  as 
"  oflkial  organ."  was  made  at  the  Division  meetmg of  June  39,»86,  and  "  dedined  with  thanks." 
In  describing  the  League's  unfortunate  and  unbusiness-like  refusal  to  continue  in  '84  its  con- 
section  with  the  Wkttt,  which  had  served  it  well  for  a  year,  I  have  said  that  the  resulting 
"  ofgan  "  was  a  shabby>looking  affair  (p.  630) ;  but  no  audi  remark  could  apply  to  the  first 
number  of  the  AmtiUur  AtkUtt^  published  by  Oliver  ft  Jenkins,  Apr.  4*  '83.  which  was  a  » 
p;  aheet  of  the  same  sise  and  typography  of  the  Wheels  and  v '  '  nplied  the 


668  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

transfer  of  much  matter  from  one  paper  to  the  other  without  resetting.  It  was  advertised  as  x 
%%  weekly,  '*  oflBcial  oigan  of  the  National  Association  of  Amateur  Athletes  of  America,  the 
Amateur  Athletic  Base  Badl  Association,  and  the  Intercollegiate  Athletic  Association,**  with  F. 
Jenkins  as  editor,  and  a  half-doxen  officers  of  the  associations  as  editorial  contributors.  A  call 
for  subscriptions  appeared  as  late  as  the  June  issue  of  the  tVhetlmei^s  GanttU  ;  but  I  think  a 
suspension*  took  place  about  that  time,  as  money  was  steadily  lost  on  every  number.  Several 
months  later,  W.  F.  Coffee,  )r.,  revived  the  sheet  as  a  fortnightly;  and  after  he  had  also  lost 
enough  money  (at  the  end  of  a  half-year,  I  think)  a  transfer  was  made  to  Baird  &  Co.,  who  turned 
it  into  a  weekly  in  season  to  offer  it  as  a  bait  for  the  "  Leagiie  organship.'*  This  began  with  the 
issue  of  June  i2»  '84,  which  was  designated  as  "  No.  25  of  the  AmaUur  AtkUtt  and  No.  44  of 
the  Archery  ^  Tennis  I^ews**  and  which  had  as  a  sub-title,  **  Official  organ  N.  A.  A.  A.  A.  and 
National  Archery  and  Tennis  associations ;  contains  the  official  gazette  of  the  League  of  Ameri- 
can Wheelmen."  The  latter  could  be  had  separately  on  an  8 p.  sheet,  headed  Cyclist  EdHims  ^ 
Amateur  Athlete t  for  65  c.  a  year,  while  the  conglomerated  paper  of  t6  pp.  cost  $3.  It  was 
the  8  p.  sheet  that,  by  contract,  was  mailed  to  each  League  member,  for  }  c.  per  copy, — unless 
he  chose,  by  the  individual  payment  of  $t,  to  have  the  16  p.  mongrel  sent  to  him  instead.  Of 
the  Archery  &*  Tennis  News  it  may  be  said  that  43  numbere  were  issued  independently,  the 
final  one  (June  a,  '84),  which  announced  absorption  by  the  Athlete^  being  called  **  Vol.  3,  No. 
7."  I  have  already  explained  that  it  was  a  sort  of  continuation  of  the  Archery  Fields  whidi 
began  as  a  $1  fortnightly  at  Boston,  in  May,  *8i,  after  baring  existed  nine  months  as  a  depart- 
ment in  the  weekly  B.  IV.  This  third  experiment,  the  A.  A'T.  News^  was  planned  to  appear 
monthly  for  the  first  half  of  each  year  and  semi-monthly  for  the  last  half,  at  a  subscription  of 
f  1.50,  and  was  well  printed  and  edited, — ^the  proprietor  being  A.  H.  Gibbes  and  the  editor  J.  W. 
Auten.  In  less  than  three  months,  the  latter  got  tired  of  tending  to  the  Ath/ete*s  archery 
column,  and  so  spoke  his  farewell  on  Aug.  31.  On  Apr.  33,  '86,  the  paper  was  revived  with 
the  reversed  title  of  Tennis  &*  Archery  News  ("  Vol.  6,  No.  17,  whole  No.  138  **),  as  a  4  p. 
supplement  to  the  Athlete^  and  it  kept  that  shape  for  two  months,  or  until  transformed  into 
departments  of  Recreation^  the  successor  of  the  Athlete.  Meanwhile,  Jan.  1,  '85,  the  name  of 
this  had  been  changed  to  Cyclist  &*  Athlete^  and  the  style  of  the  firm  to  Baird  Brothere,  who  an* 
nouncsd  the  suspension  of  the  concern  Oct.  30,  '85,  and  said  that,  if  they  failed  of  persuading 
any  one  else  to  continue  it,  the  amount  due  for  unexpired  subscriptions  would  be  refunded. 
Three  weeks  later,  "  D.  M.  Kurtz,  editor  and  manager,  and  J.  W.  Barnes,  treasurer,"  revived 
the  paper,  at  Newark,  N.  J.,  reducing  its  price  to  $1  and  its  pages  to  8,  though  these  were  after- 
wards mcreased  to  13  and  16.  Qn  Mar.  36,  it  was  announced  that  D.  M.  Kurtz  had  withdrawn 
from  and  E.  R.  Collins  joined  the  staff;  that  the  office  had  been  changed  from  800  Broad  st.  to 
No.  7S5 ;  that  a  stock  company  was  being  incorporated  to  act  as  publishera ;  and  that  C  L. 
Meyers  would  continue  manager  of  the  branch  office  at  135  Chamben  St.,  N.  V.  City.  No 
further  change  was  noted  until  the  paper  reached  the  end  of  its  semi-annual  volume,  June  aj, 
and  no  notic:  was  given  then  that  this  ia6th  number  was  the  final  one;  but,  on  the  following  week* 
there  was  issued,  from  the  same  office,  ** Recreation^  an  illustrated  journal  of  outdoor  life.  Vol. 
I,  No.  I,  pubii:fhed  every  Saturday  by  the  Cyclist  Printing  Co.,  at  $1.50  a  year."  The  tllostra- 
tions  of  this  first  number  were  taken  from  the  Stevens  series  in  Outings  and  from  Texas  Srfi' 
ings :  and,  in  combination  with  a  well-drawn  heading,  and  the  banishment  of  advertisements  from 
the  title-paice,  they  h*lped  make  it  an  in:omnarab1y  better-looking  paper  (so  pp.,  sc)  than  ki 
predecessor  had  ever  been.  The  C.  A*  A.ol  July  3,  *8s,  the  first  issue  after  the  expiration  of  its 
contract  for  supplying  the  League  an  8  p.  gazette  at  §  c.  per  copy,  printed  its  offer  for  contin- 
uing the  contract  at  the  same  price,  but  allowing  3§  pp.  of  reading  matter  (or  double  the 
allowance  oj  the  firat  contract)  and  charging  $3  a  column  for  extra  space,  instead  of  $$  as  before. 
The  League  having  rejected  this,  in  favor  of  printing  its  own  BnUetint  the  pubKshera  then  ai^ 
dressed  themselves  to  the  chief  consul  of  the  New  York  Division,  with  an  offer  to  send  ifan  i6pi 
sheet  to  each  member  for  \  c.  per  copy.  A  "  mail  vote  "  of  the  1300  members  brought  mAf  vM 
replies,  but  as  only  30  of  these  were  negative,  a  trial-contract  was  made,— lasting  fnum  Aq^  f 
to  Jan.  I,  during  which  the  C  ^  i4.  called  itself  '*  official  organ  of  the  Division.'*    At  th<a»> 


UTERA  TURK  OF  THE  WHEEL.  669 

kul  Ibe  cooinicl  wu  not  aiicclid.  The  «ou  agunu  rcucwLng  it  lUikcn  by  mil  in  Mar..  't<6> 
Wflii6  to  II »  and  ihja  probftbly  Iktd  in  iaflusnce  uponlbe  Divisiao  offivn,  ihree  moqlhtlaura 
when  iksr  ilEdlud  lo  Rcogniie  my  "  ocpo  "  KkMcvcr,— even  dwuih  As  IV/ml  oi.:Rd  la 
mill  lioDCapici  (ntuitoiuly,  each  w«k.  "Tlic  weekly  ciicuiuiou  o(  AfcmuiM  ii  giuiantecd 
to  b«  u  IcAB  ifoa  ofiies.*'— 4  AaiemcDl  to  Ihat  eflcct  bciiif  prioud  it  tho  hdd  ol  lis  editorial 
cslumni,— and  it  ii  widely  didribuled  bt  ■'>°  AnKricao  Mewi  Co.  among  the  dealm.  In 
(bincc  for  camnuiidinK  a  reapedibk  uk  it  Ibc  Dcii44Uiid*  Kim  belter  than  that  o<  tha  older 
tnde-cirtii^an,  beauae  iu  piciured  fnini-p.^  it  mote  auraoive,  aiid  ita  well-choieii  title  ii  cal- 
cntued  10  eoocnal  ibe  preduninance  wbich  cycluig  aiiil  holda  iu  iu  IctusiprcH.  '1  he  archen, 
and  leiub  playen,  and  patronanf  what  Mr.  i>mi  lucd  locall  "  whcr  |«liie  alhtetio,"  aul 
biy  people  oho  awel  i  reputation  lot  being  inlerHtett  in  reading  aboui "'  breeay,  ouidoor  liie," 
—are  ill  likely  enough  to  be  bsguiled,  ai  lina,  into  (quandiaiug  j  c  on  Ibe  carnal  ptiichaie  of 
■  good  looking  picture-paper  witb  u  onmpreheniiv;  a  name  aa  KiiTtaltwt;  hhereaa  iinne  of 
IhiiD  would  admit  lo  their  houKi  a  mere  "  adveniiing  iindwicb  "  wiili  u  rcairioive  ■  title  a* 
M'Ah/ot  BL  WirlJ,at  io  obliniively  brutal  a  lille  u  Qf/tff  &•  .rf  UZrtr.  "  Bad-will"  rather 
than  "  |Dod-will "  wia  whal  the  oHginaUn  ollhia  lille  toid  la  the  men  who  reviied  the  luckleit 
■heet  al  Newark  in  Novenaber;  and  ihaaj|;h  Ibe  new  ownen  very  aoon  improved  the  quality 
of  the  rea£ag  mailer,  ind  incrcaaed  the  circulation  to"  1503 or  more  copiea  each  week"  (c.:r* 
tiCying  lo  the  tame  by  aflidivil),  Ibiy  aeeiu  u  have  finally  found  IhemKlvo  linking  beneath  the 
weight  ol  their  tof^eivy  title.  Iu  "  ut"  and  iu  ill-cepuie  wen  like  1  blight  and  an  incubui 
tqnn  their  beat  efloru  11  refono.  The  death  of  Ihil  wild  Wettem  prini  in  Michigan — Ihe  oolf 
other  000  in  America  which  had  preioned  to  conn  popular  conumpt  by  calling  iuelf  Cydat-^ 
pcrhapo  helped  loatrengihen  1  he  popular  datire  that  thia  aeoond  "  itt^'  should  ba  buried  allot 
for  ihe  very  nght  of  il  waa  apt  loarvutc  a  aort  of  reaentiul  memory  of  iu  two  bad  bargain!  with 
Ihe  LeAgue.  The  happy  thought  of  wiping  out  old  Korea,  iihI  beginning  over  ipin  la  VoL  i, ' 
No.  I  oi  RKmUttn,  ia  10  be  uxredited  to  J.  W.  Bamea  (b.  Jan.  iS,  'j/),  the  lecreury  of  the 
Hock  cmpany  who  an  ihe  ownen  and  publiiheia.  He  ia  a  graduate  of  Lafiyelte  Coll.  in  'Sa 
(a  bruher  of  Prof.  5.  G.  Bamea,  of  [owi  Coll.,  whom  I  hin  quoted  on  p.  jij),  and  baa  heea 
the  leading  apirit  in  the  enlerpriae  ainee  ita  iranijer  to  Newark,  !£.  R.  ColUni,  of  Summii,  and 
C  H.  Townaend  conlinue  aaandaied  wiih  him  in  tha  editonhip,  Ihsugh  no  namea  of  edilon 

•f  reprodudcg  piaures  enough  10  make  the  paper  lell  •>  aighl  from  Ihe  nrwi  ilindi  Tba 
■■e  of  old  CBU  which  belong  10  (Mmt,  the  Whitl,  Pact  and  other  papen,  can  be  had  at  alight 
upenae ;  and,  if  aeleclinna  ire  judicioualy  made,  they  will  be  Jiut  about  ai  efficacjoiu  aa  new 

"  The  official  giieiu  of  Ihe  Canadian  Wheelmen'!  Anodation  and  olihe  C.  T.  C- in  Cinidi " 
haa  been  a  aub-lille  af  Ihe  CmaJian  IftHlmm  tines  the  beginning  ol  iu  lecond  volume  (Oct., 
ti);  but  only  aince  the  beginnii^  of  the  third  volome  (Nor.,  "Bjlhaa  il  been  direclly"  pub- 
iabed  by  the  C  W.  A.,moolhly,at  iiaTalbnt  at.,  London,  Ont.,  and  tuppliedto  ill  memberal 
snbicriptian  [nee  to  nihgra,  $1,"  Th:  editing  dtring  Ihii  latter  prrind  haa  been  done  by  tha 
prendeot  of  the  loodilian,  J.  S.  Briiriey  (b.  Mar.  4,  ■(•(),  of  the  Si.  T/Umv/turmU.  tvinvi 
aamewhal  by  tba  ascrctary-treiaurer,  H.  B.  Donly  (b,  Jan.  t,  'bi),  of  ihe  Simcti  Rffanmr, 


670  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  C.  W.  A.  with  an  organ.  Subscriptions  have  been  insignificant  in  number,  compelling  the 
company,  in  justice  to  its  advertisers,  to  send  out  many  free  copies.  Apathy  and  indifference 
have  been  shown  by  the  general  membership.  The  yVhtelman  will  not  cease  to  exist,  but  win 
no  longer  be  published  under  the  same  auspices."  Its  issue  had  been  semi-monthly  from  May 
to  August,  and  London  had  continued  the  publication-place,  as  from  the  outset.  Its  cost  for 
the  year  had  been  about  $600,  and  its  receipts  $100  from  subscriptions,  $250  from  advertisements 
ahd  I96  from  grant  of  C.  W.  A.,— showing  a  loss  of  about  $150,  to  be  divided -among  its  14 
publishers.  The  latter  declined  to  continue  it  another  year,  even  for  an  increased  subsidy  of 
I200,  and  argued  that  the  C.  W.  A.  might  for  that  sum  (or  at  most  $250),  send  the  paper  direct 
to  each  member,— its  annual  cost  being  reduced  to  $500  by  the  omission  of  the  four  extra 
numbers  of  summer,  and  its  advertising  receipts  increased  by  the  fact  of  its  assured  circula* 
tion  among  nearly  1000  wheelmen.  Accepting  this  argument,  the  C.  W.  A.  decided  by  mail 
vote  to  be  its  own  publisher,  and  the  result  was  shown  to  be  satisfactory  by  the  report  at  the 
annual  meet  of  July  i,  '86,  proving  the  net  cost  to  have  been  only  $120.  The  paper  is  well 
printed  and  has  12  pp.,  of  standard  size  (9  by  xa  in.),  though  the  rule  for  the  first  seven  issoes 
was  8  pp.  The  editorial  work  has  been  done  with  decency  and  soberness— small  space  having 
been  granted  to  quarrels  or  personal  puffery,  or  sensational  paragraphing — and  contributors  have 
been  encouraged  to  supply  solid  facts  of  advantage  to  tourists  and  road-riders.  The  oflficia]  re- 
port, showing  that  only  too  subscriptions  were  paid  during  the  second  year  (when  the  editors 
worked  gratuitously,  when  the  C.  W.  A.  gave  official  sanction,  and  when  no  competitor  was 
known  in  the  whole  Dominion  of  Canada)  has  a  suggestive  interest  to  those  who  reflect  upon 
the  probable  support  given  to  sudi  trade-circulars  in  the  United  States. 

Southern  road-riders  and  tourists  found  their  earliest  effective  exponent  in  the  SmUhttn 
CycUr  (monthly,  16  pp.  50  c,  begnn  Nov.,  '84),  of  Memphis,  Tenn.,  edited  and  published  by 
,W.  L.  Surprise  (b.  Dec.  9,  '59),  chief  consul  of  the  League  in  that  State.  Its  well-engraved 
ornamental  heading  was  assumed  with  No.  7, — ^previous  to  which  a  block-type  design  had  ap- 
peared,—and  the  first  four  ntunbers  comprised  only  12  pp.  each.  The  paper  excels  its  fonper 
rival,  the  Bicycle^  of  Montgomery,  in  respect  to  typography ;  and  it  presents  fresh  reports  from 
local  roads  and  excursions,  each  month,  instead  of  "  filling  up  with  general  reprint  matter,"  as 
that  did.  Similar  praise  for  good  typography  and  proper  attention  to  local  interests  must  be 
accorded  to  the  BicyeU  South  (monthly,  16  pp.,  50  c.,  begun  Dec.  '84),  published  by  Hunter 
ft  Genslinger,  at  si6  Gravier  St.,  New  Orleans.  The  issue  of  July,  *86,  prints  the  valedictory 
of  the  man  who  had  served  as  editor  for  15  months,  W.  W.  Crane,  captain  of  the  N.  O.  B.  C.^ 
saying  :  "  From  an  8  p.  sheet  taken  up  by  me.in  May,  '85,  this  paper  has  grown  to  12  amd  then 
tb  16  pp.,  and  I  now  withdraw  from  the  management,  leaving  it  a  sturdy,  healthy  and  paying  in- 
stitution." His  predecessor  was  G.  D.  McNathan.  and  his  successor  is  to  be  Sam  M.  Pattoa 
(b.  July  i7,'57).  Its  proprietors  are  E.  W.  Hunter  (b.  1846)  and  Chas.  H.  Grenslingerfb.  1855),  who 
are  selling-agents  for  the  caligraph  and  whose  advertisement  says  :  "  Edited  and  published  by 
wheelmen;  official  organ  of  the  Louisiana  Division  of  the  League ;  circulated  and  read  in  every 
Southern  cycling  community  ;  live,  progressive,  entertaining,  and  50  c.  per  year.  A  miniature 
bale  of  cotton,  souvenir  of  the  N.  O.  Exposition,  sent  to  each  new  subscriber."  I  am  told  that 
they  profess  to  circulate  1800  copies.  Of  the  initial  letters  in  the  paper's  heading,  the  **  B  "  is 
outlined  by  a  falling  bicycle ;  and  another  one,  ridden  by  a  devil,  forms  the  lower  part  of  the 
"  S,"— its  upper  half  being  represented  by  the  tail,  which  curves  over  his  head. 

New  Hampshire  roads  and  tours  get  a  fair  amiount  of  attention  in  the  Star  Adv^emU 
(monthly,  8  pp.,  50  c. ;  begun  Mar,  '85),  of  East  Rochester,  N.  H.,  in  so  far  as  any  space  caa 
be  spared  from  its  main  purpose  of  advocating  the  American  Star  bicycle  as  the  crowning  trP 
umph  of  mechanical  genius.  This  type  of  safety  machine,  having  the  little  wheel  in  front, 
seems  to  be  a  better  "  coaster  "  than  any  other  ;  and  the  Adtfoeai^t  neatlynlesigned  headmg 
represents  a  rider  of  it  descending  a  steep  mountain-grade.  I  presume  this  is  designed  to  com- 
memorate the  exploit  of  July  16,  '83,  when  "  the  only  successful  coast  down  Mt.  Washington*' 
was  taken  by  the  editor  and  publisher,  E.  H.  Corson  (b.  Oct.  36,  ^48;  see  p.  523).  By  the  ex- 
dttsion  of  advertisements  from  the  title-page,  this  paper  ensures  itself  a  more  attractive  appear- 


LITERA  TURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  67 1 

anoe  t***"  the  laTger  and  more  pretentious  tnub-drcalan  can  boast  of ;  and  its  existence  is  » 
more  remarkable  proof  than  theirs  ol  the  genuineness  of  the  cycling  enthusiasm,  inasmuch  as 
its  entire  literary  support  roust  come  from  men  who  are  zealous  for  this  special  sort  of  cycling. 
The  strong  sympathy  which  all  wheelmen  have  with  one  another  is  curiously  shown  by  this  fact 
that  a  single  class  of  them  take  pride  in  such  a  medium,  through  which  they  may  tell  each  other 
how  much  better  a  machine  the  Sur  is  than  all  its  rivals ;  and  though  I  presume  the  H.  B. 
Smith  Machine  Co.  supply  more  cash  to  the  AdvocaU  than  all  iu  other  subacribers,  the  list  of 
these  is  larger  than  one  might  suppose,  considering  the  limiutions  of  the  field  from  which  they 
must  be  drawn.  Yet  the  issue  of  July,  '86,  admits  the  failure  of  the  attempt  to  increase  them 
greatly  by  trying  a  semi^nonthly  issue  at  75  c.  during  the  first  quarter  of  the  second  year ;  and 
says,  rather  despairingly :  "  We  now  resume  the  monthly,  and,  if  properly  supported,  we  shall 
keep  on ;  but  if  not--good  bye.  Star  AdvocaU.'''*  The  editor  issued  in  Jan.,  '83  (ist  ed.  500 
copies,  so  c),  the  "  Star  Rider's  Manual,  an  instruction-book  on  the  use  of  the  American  Star 
bicycle,"  for  the  sale  of  which  he  is  the  chief  New  England  agent  The  ad  ed.  (1000  copies ; 
Mar.,  '86 ;  118  pp.  of  a8,ooo  words,  weight  3  oz.)  is  double  the  size  of  the  first  and  sells  for  75  c; 
and  the  most  readable  thing  added  to  it  is  the  story  of  "the  coast  down  Mt.  Washington," 
which  asserts  that  the  St.  Louis  trio,  who  afterwards  attempted  the  same  trick  on  ordinary  bicy- 
cles, necessarily  failed  of  covering  the  entire  distance,  because  of  inability  to  remount  on  the 
steepest  pitches  where  headers  were  taken.  The  book  contains  so  wood-cuts  illustrating  the 
Star,  with  portraiu  of  the  author,  and  of  the  inventor,  G.  W.  Pressey,  who  gives  a  history  of  the 
machine  and  incidentally  offers  the  opinion  that  "  ball  or  roller  bearings  in  use  on  bicycles  are 
simply  frauds  and  deceptions  "  (p.  la).  Before  the  AdvocaU  was  sUrted,  Mr.  Corson  printed 
several  touring  reports  and  other  sketches  in  the  AUckoHic,  "  a  monthly  journal  of  mechanics, 
science,  and  literature,"  published  at  Smithville,  N.  J.,  to  advertise  the  various  products  of  the 
H.  B.  Smith  Machine  Co.    Iu  issue  of  Sept.,  '83,  was  the  566th  ("  Vol.  13,  No.  8  "). 

The  monthly  A  tturican  U^futltfum^  of  St.  Louis,  has  sent  two  specimens  for  review,  in 
answer  to  my  request.  Iu  initial  number  (Aug.,  '85)  was  a  single  sheet,  13  by  so  in.,  priced  at 
10  c,  but  I  infer  that  all  the  later  ones  have  been  double  sheets,  priced  at  5  c,  for  that  is  the 
description  of  the  Jan.  issue.  It  differs  in  shape  from  the  older  circulars  of  the  cycling  trade, 
for  iu  general  appearance  is  that  of  a  country  newspaper,  of  coarse  typography,  with  five  long 
columns  to  the  page, — ^the  final  one  being  given  to  advertisemenU,  in  letters  about  an  inch  high. 
The  publication  office  is  at  516  Olive  St.,  and  the  price  50  c.  a  year.  It  announced  L.  C.  S. 
Ladtsh  as  editor,  and  J.  T.  Smith  as  business  manager,  though  the  latter's  half-interest  was 
poscfaased  in  July,  '86,  by  J.  S.  Rogers  (b.  Aug.  19,  '64),  chief  consul  for  Missouri.  Iu  salu- 
tatory said  :  "  To  a  htrge  number  of  wheelmen  we  are  already  personally  known  as  a  journalist. 
*  *  That  we  shall  be  thoroughly  successful  in  our  endeavor  is  already  assured.  *  *  Our 
paper  is  not,  and  never  will  be,  an  advertising  sheet,  nor  is  it  in  any  way  connected  with  bicycle 
jobbers,  or  anything  of  a  similar  character.  *  *  One  regular  feature  will  be  portraiu  of  our 
fast  or  eminent  riders,  and  pictures  lIlustTative  of  interesting  touring  papers."  The  touring 
papers  in  the  January  number  were  reprinted,  without  credit,  from  the  Bi.  Worlds  for  which  Cola 
E.  Stone  wrote  them  in  '83.  The  quality  of  the  editorial  pan4;raphs  may  be  shown  by  the  follow^ 
ing  specimen  :  "  In  the  course  of  our  journalistic  experience  we  have  met  with  all  kinds  of  free- 
advertising  fiends,  but  must  admit  that  for  consummate  gall  Kari  Kron  can  give  them  all  a  handi- 
cap and  still  come  in  winner.  We  don't  object  to  giving '  literary  fellows '  a  little  encouragement, 
but  %re  draw  the  line  at  free  advertisemenU '  to  be  kept  standing  indefinitely.'  The  combina- 
tion of  gigantic  gall  and  refreshing  rnantoU  which  prompts  Karl  to  write  that '  it  coau  us  noth- 
ing '  is  amusing.  Space,  dear  Karl,  is  a  newspaper  man's  real  estate,  and  if  you  want  any  of 
ours  you  must  pay  for  it  at  our  regular  and  unvarying  rates.  You  nuy  mention  in  your  book 
that  we  are '  over  seven.' "  This  waa  in  response  to  my  general  request  (which  nearly  all  the 
other  trade  papers  oomplied  with),  that  the  names  and  prices  of  aU  cycling  books  in  the  market 
ahouJd  be  occasionally  announced  as  a  matter  of  news  and  good  buunesa-policy,  fnr  the  sam* 
msons  urged  at  the  q^ning  of  the  present  chapter.  The  final  words  of  the  quotation  aliudc  to 
By  syggestion  that  I  desired  to  print  here  the  exact  ages  of  all  the  cycling  editor* 


672  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

foregmng  was  put  io  type,  I  have  seen  several  notices  of  the  paper  for  Aug.,  '86,  • 
ing  its  improved  tyj^ography  and  its  change  in  shape  to  the  standard  9  by  la  in.  page, 
reported  to  have  *'  absorbed  '*  both  the  Southern  Cycler  and  the  Bicycle  South,     .. 
Ca.ifoniia  says  that  a  uew  mouihly,  the  Pacific  Wheelman^  is  about  to  appear  » 
Cisco.    Sprinj^field,  Ms.,  also  seuds  out  in  bept.  tho  Btcycle  /^rro^  (monthly,  4  { , 
by  Rev.  U.  A.  Kiug,  to  herald  his  new  safety  Licycie.     It  is  *'  pub.  by  the  Evang^ 


llie  t^erment  Bicycle  ^  "  devoted  to  good  roads,  healthful  recreation  and  the 


is  of  the  same  sizi:  and  shape  as  the  St.  Louis  sheet  first  described,  though  its  "  h< 
is  rather  more  pronounced.    The  seven  monthly  numbers,  Apr.  to  Oct.,  '86,  are 
and  I  suppose  the  plan  b  to  supply  seven  similar  issues  in  '87  and  later  years  ai 
"  A  copy  is  mailed  to  every  post-office  and  every  League  member  in  the  State  . 
advertisement,  i/}  by  2^  in.,  costs  only  $3."    It  is  issued  at  West  Randolph, 
Thayer,  dealer  in  cyc.es,  who  also  publishes  the  weekly  Neraid  fy*  Aews.     T! 
continence  of  Chicago,  ia  fal.ing  to  fuist  a  representative  journalistic  bantling  ' 
and  struggling  famiiy  called  the  American  cycling  press,"  is  probably  due  to  t1 
of  a  local  weekly,  the  Mirror  0/  Anuriceut  Shorts,  as  "  official  organ  of  the  I 
In  June,  '86,  this  paper  succumbed  to  the  weight  of  its  name,  and,  though  ' 
July,  as  the  "  Pastime  Gazette ^  a  mirror  of  American  sports,"  its  suspension  ^ 
transfer  of  the"  League  organship  "  to  its  hated  rival,  the  Spcriittg6^  Theatru 
editor  of  this,  Sam  Miles,  is  an  enthusiastic  wheelman,  and  he  celebrated  t1 
Adding  "<mm/  Western  Cycler  "in  iha  heading  of  his  paper,  though  the  full  i- 
on  the  runniiig  headlines.    Of  the  12  pp.  (13  by  18  in.),  about  t\  pp.  are  give* 
specimen  copy  from  which  I  write  this  notice.     I  have  never  seen  a  specim'  * 
'  weekly,  the  Spectator^  which  is  said  to  give  much  space  to  wheeling.    "  Tab 
weekly  society  and  family  journal,  and  official  organ  for  the  Iowa  Division, 
tises  itself  thus,  for  $1.50,  at  Ottumwa;  and  I  have  previously  alluded  lo  * 
Frandsco,  as  "  organ  of  the  California  Division."    The  Spertsman^  of  Pin 
Liftt  of  Philadelphia,  the  half  dozen  sporting  weeklies  of  New  York,  and  • ' 
several  smaller  cities,  have  regular  depanments  devoted  to  cycle  racing ;  and  - 
is  also  a  fixture  in  many  of  the  special  Sunday  papers,  ard  in  several  of  tbo 
stated  intervals.    A  long  "  exchanf^e  list  cf  jrnn:a!s,  thus  f iving  frominci  C' 
kept  standing  thmu:  h  many  issues  of  the  Western  *Cyclist,  and  it  was  al 
feature  in  that  defunct  handbill  which  I  can  record  to  its  credit.    The  ^' 
accorded  by  the  outside  press  to  the  pastime  seems  to  ensure  that  the  liter 
ctal  trade-cirailam  should  always  be  weak  and  diluted.    There  can  never  • 
be  any  such  cnnr*ntration  of  effort  and  enthusiasm  as  would  suffice  to  pro' 
as  the  Bi.  World  cl  '79-80  or  the  Wheelman  of  '82-83. 

American  Cycung  Books  and  Pamphlbts. 

Among  books  which  are  no  longer  in  the  market,  the  most  important 
cler :  a  manual  for  the  observer,  the  learner  and  the  expert,"  some  ace* 
given  on  p.  504,  by  its  author.  C.  E.  Pratt  <b.  1845).    The  ist  ed.  (M. 
f  I ;  60,000  words)  had  2ri  pp.  and  19  wood-cuts,  together  with  a  heltot 
The  latter,  and  the  wood-cut  frontispiece,  were  omitted  from  the  sd  ed. 
at  50  c. ),  whose  appendix  of  new  matter  raised  the  total  pages  to  26 
wise  identical  with  the  first    The  ad  ed.  was  "  printed  for  the  author  bv 
whereas  the  first  bore  the  imprint  of  the  Riverside  Press,  though  the  e  —   . 

C.  J.  Peters  &  Son.    A  little  picture  on  p.  126  gives  a  fairly  good  id#. 
ance  on  the  road.     His  money-profit  on  the  5000  books  was  leas  thari 
of  so  great  a  number  rewarded  him  at  least  with  the  consciousness  o 
fiuence  upon  the  "  tone  "  of  wheeling.    It  was  a  very  fortunate  thii 
spectability  of  the  pastime  in  this  country  that  a  man  of  some  little 
the  outset  compile  a  manual  with  such  care  and  good  judgment  aa  to 


vwi  I 


674  ^■^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

(or  111  hi|ji  price  and  nnricled  nlc.    The  Wlurlmaii  ol  Oct.,  'iti,  adnniscd  <l  II  f],  bol 

UicTclua,"  by  J.  G.  DalUD  (b.  itliS),  iIk  lulhor'i  own  aeicriplive  adnrliKRHnt  may  be  favnd 

thai  page  «u  prinled,  Is  36  Si.  Jamei  iv.,  the  new  hgnn  of  the  B0110D  B.  C.  Poiul  ndlei 
(or  75  c.  ihould  be  kdi  10  him  Ihere  bf  Ihose  who  wiih  ibe  renKcl  ed.  ef  "Sj  ("  Sixty  Poetj," 
pp.  160),  though  he  can  also  niMily  it  in  Hexible  landing  (ot  50 1,  and  the  original  ed.  of  "So 
("Forty  Poeu,"pp.  no)  for  lot  E.  C.  Hodga  &  Co.  are  ihe  nominal  publijhera.  The 
book  i>  eleitiotjrped  und  printed  id  attracti™  thape  by  Rand,  Aveiy  &  Co. ,  and  is  well  wonh 

prelaloiy  rcmaik  that  "  Ihe  incomcl  lerminalion,  as  in  cydrr,  wai  too  common  la  lectify  in  all 
Ihe  plates,  bul  il  doei  not  occur  in  Ibe  later  pieces  i  "  lorthla  shows  ihat,  though  the  author 
originally  had  a  true  ear  for  euphony,  he  lacked  the  courage  Id  drfend  ii  in  his  fd  eds, — simply 
bceaute  there  had  meanwhile  ippearrd  a  "revised  dictionary,"  into  which  some  <ase.haTdenc4 
hack,  who  knew  nothing  about  Ihe  prcvaJcDt  American  lo^e,  tiad  carelessly  iniEipolated  "cy> 

Ijard,  whom  the  shadow  of  a  dietionaTy  "  revisisl "  so  thoroughly  seated,  was  tlie  "  elegant 
quarto  volume,  bound  in  blue  lilk  dolh,  <rilb  dde-ilamp  in  gill  and  silver"  which  a  sprightly 
young  New  Vortet  issued  in  July,  'S4,  with  the  title,  "  Wheel  Songs  :  poems  of  bicycling." 
The  to  pp.  carried  nearly  50  engravings,  many  of  which  had  appeared  in  OtiUng  with  ihe  ac- 
companying tut,  and  the  advertisements  describedthis  as  "sentimental  and  humonms."  The 
price  wa*  f  1.7S,  and  the  publishen  were  White,  Stokes  &  Allen,  of  iGi  Fifth  avenue,  who,  in 
offering  me  the  electrotypes  (Dec.  ri,  'S5),  at  a  very  low  rate,  said  ihe  volume  was  tlien  entirely 
snl  of  print.  I  ice,  however,  that  copies  are  Hill  adveniaed  for  sale  at  the  office  of  OMinf. 
The  author  was  S.  Conanl  Foster  (d.  Mar.  S,  'S},  x.  ji),  known  among  his  friends  as  the  "poet 
wheelman,"  who  learned  to  ride  the  bicycle  in  '79,  was  manager  of  the  original  wheel  agency  u 
"  No.  791  "  during  the  Wright  ownership,  and  was  then,  for  the  four  yean  ending  with  his 
death,  in  the  employ  of  Ihe  firm  who  make  the  Otis  elevators.  Another  notably  elegant  volume, 
which,  Bs  a  specimen  of  Ihe  typographic  arl,  stands  far  superior  lo  anything  yet  projeclcd  in  the 
shape  oi  cycling  literature  in  any  piit  of  Ihe  world,  is  "  Rhymes  of  the  Road  and  River,  by 
Chris.  Wheeler"(pp.  1S4,  U),  printed  and  published  at  Philadelphii,  in  Nov.,'Ss,  by  E. 
ers  of  the  L.  A.  If.  Biilttm.  The  pages  are  gilt-edged,  7  by  g|  in. 
sort  of  paper,  almost  as  Ihlclc  as  cardboard.    There  are  no  disfigurint 


of  olive-green  muslio  and  is  beveled,  and  it  eahibits 

he  following  sub. 

Token  Spokes,  beni  and  broken  on  both  ode.  of  the 

the  "  rhymes  "  are  classed  under  these  four  divisions 

:  '•  Lays  o(  Lan- 

.e  Schuylkill    River;   Ben.  Oara  and  Broken    Spok 

«i  Cycling    Bab 

or  the  productios 

ors  of  Ihe  cycling  press,  to  which  many  of  Ihe  pieces 

ad  been  contrib- 

elc™e.    The  author's  real  name  is  Arthur  Henry  M 

c  Owen  (b.  .86,), 

e  spent  m  Bo«on,  and  who  has  been  a  Philadclphi 

n  only  since  li, 

tional  period  being  accredited  lo  Dublin ;  for  his  pai 

■entsareoflrisb- 

1  written  many  pieces  in  advocacy  of  the  plcanms 

of  touring  (using 

leekar ''  as  well  as  "  Chris.  Wheeler  "),  has  printed 

"Steel  Wings, a 

ten  chapters,"  in  the  PkOa.  Cfc.  Rtce 
Ihly  Wifliim'i  OaitU.  The  Utter  j. 
laptcr  of  "  In  and  Aiound  Cape  Ann 
vicinity,  for  the  wheelman  tourisl  and  It 
he  Ca^  Attn  AdvtrtiacT  oflice."  Th. 
til  printed  and  neatly  bound  in  cloth,  a 


UTERA  TURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  675 

GloQceater.  A  pioneer  rider  of  '78,  he  had  printed  many  newspaper  sketches  about  wheelings 
before  he  began  writing  this  guide-book  in  the  winter  of  '83-4.  Resuming  work  upon  it  in  the 
winter  of  '84-5,  he  completed  the  task  in  July  and  published  in  August.  The  edition  was  1250 
copies,  and  the  sale  was  so  good  that,  though  not  electrotyped,  a  new  and  greatly  enlarged  ed. 
b  to  be  issued  in  June,  '87.  Unsolicited  orders  for  300  copies  were  received  before  the  book 
appeared  (chiefly  as  a  result  of  the  specimen  chapter,  before  mentioned) ;  about  zoo  were  given. 
away  to  newspaper  editors  and  others ;  and  a  large  share  of  the  edition  was  sold  to  summer 
visitors  at  G.  The  10  pp.  of  advertisements  brought  in  $183.  I  am  indebted  to  this  author  for- 
freely  advertising  my  own  book  upon  his  labels  and  circulars ;  and  my  list  of  "other  cycling  pub- 
lications" was  Also  impressed  by  him  upon  1000  of  the  latter.  In  regard  to  "  Wheels  and 
Whims,"  catalogued  on  a  previous  page,  Outing  spoke  as  follows  (July,  '84,  p.  307) :  "  In  this,, 
the  tricycle  scores  its  first  novel.  It  is  an  animated  little  story  of  four  young  women  on  a  tricy- 
cle trip  from  Hartford  to  the  ocean,  with  many  moving  girlish  adventures  by  flood  and  by  field. 
A  good  deal  of  romance  is  interwoven,  and  it  ends  in  a  double  wedding  in  the  most  blissful 
style.  It  is  not  the  work  of  a  skillful  writer,  and  the  illustrations  are  saddening ;  but  it  is  an 
amusing  story  notwithstanding.  *  *  The  experienced  wheelman  will  of  course  not  rely 
upon  the  reported  roads,  which  are  in  fact  too  sandy  for  the  excursions  which  the  author's  imagi-. 
nation  has  made  over  them."  The  BL  World  said  (July  4,  p.  152)  :  "  The  book  is  very  breexy 
and  the  story  is  well  told.    The  illustrations  detract  from  the  excellence  of  the  work." 

"  Wheelmen's  Reference  Book  "  (May,  '86 ;  pp.  183  and  adv.  pp.  17 ;  price  50  c.  in  paper 
and  $1  in  doth ;  published  by  Ducker  &  (joodman,  at  Hartford,  Ct.),  has  pages  almost  ex> 
actly  the  same  size  as  this  present  one  and  is  also  manufactured  by  the  Springfield  Printing  Co., 
from  the  same  brevier  type  used  in  my  earlier  chapters.  The  superintendent  of  that  company 
is  one  of  the  publishers,  and  the  other  is  Henry  CSoodman  (b.  Nov.  27,  '60),  widely-known  as  the 
inventor  of  the  patent  cycling  score^cards  which  are  sold  at  all  the  chief  race-meetings.  A  wood^ 
engraved  portrait  of  Col.  Albert  A.  Pope  covers  a  page  at  the  front  of  the  book,  and  is  followed 
by  a  brief  biography ;  and  the  heads  of  eight  other  men  connected  with  the  trade  supply  ma* 
terial  for  two  pages  of  tinted  lithographs.  There  are  ten  such  lithographed  sheets  inserted,  but 
each  of  the  other  eight  exhibits  five  heads,->the  frontispiece  being  given  to  League  officers  :  C. 
E.  Pratt,  N.  M.  Beckwith,  A.  Bassett,  F.  P.  Kendall  and  C.  H,  Potter.  The  "  tourist  page  " 
shows  T.  Stevens,  H.  J.  High,  B.  B.  Ayers,  C.  A.  Hazlett  and  W.  W.  Stall ;  the  "  profes- 
sional page,"  R.  Howell,  J.  S.  Prince,  F.  Wood,  W.  M.  Woodside  and  R.  A.  Neilson ;  the 
"  English  amateur  page,"  P.  Fumivall,  R.  H.  English,  M.  V.  J.  Webber,  R.  Cripps  and  R. 
Chambers;  while  four  pages  are  given  to  "  American  amateurs  ":  (i)  E.  P.  Burnham,  C.  E. 
Klugc,  A.  B.  Rich,  F.  R.  Knapp  and  J.  G.  Hitchcock ;  (2)  G.  M.  Hendee,  E.  F.  Landy,  F. 
R.  Cook,  N.  H.  Van  Sicklen  and  W.  C.  Marvin  (d.  '86);  (3)  F.  F.  Ives,  W.  H.  Huntley,  D. 
E.  Hunter,  L.  D.  Mungerand  W.  A.  Rhodes;  (4)  W.  A.  Rowe,  L.  B.  Hamilton,. W.  E.  Crist, 
G.  E.  Weber,  and  L.  A.  Miller.  Pictures  and  descriptions  of  19  machines  which  have  a  lead- 
ing place  in  the  American  market  occupy  as  many  pages,  and  are  followed  by  the  League  racing 
roles,  and  a  "club  directory,"  which  names  313  clubs,  alphabetically  by  States  and  towns,  and 
the  secretary  of  each.  An  alphabetical  list  of  554  Americans  who  have  competed  in  races  gives 
the  residence  of  eadi,  and  is  followed  by  brief  biographies  of  167  of  them,  and  of  28  other^  who 
are  prominent  as  tourists,  League  officers  or  tradesmen.  These  biographies  cover  44  pp.  and 
exhibit  the  subject's  birthday  in  nearly  every  case.  The  next  20  pp.  give  my  own  sketch  of  the 
League  and  a  list  of  "  free  railroads."  "  Chronology  of  '85,"  a  hodge-podge  calendar  of  slight 
value,  covers  12  pp.,  and  is  followed  by  "  (Comparative  Cycling  Records,"  14  pp.,  of  fine  type, 
carefully  tabulated.  The  final  feature  in  the  book  is  a  list  of  390  "  agents  and  dealers  in  the  U. 
$.,"  arranged  by  States  and  towns.  "  Touring  "  and  "  training  "  are  treated  of  very  briefly  by 
B.  B.  Ayera  and  C.  L.  Meyers ;  and  there  are  2s  pp.  of  "  filling,"  cadled  "  opinions  of  leading 
men  "  (copied  from  the  Popes'  advertising  scrap-book),  which  exhibit  in  brief  paragraphs  the 
various  advantages  of  cycling.  A  well-drawn  lithograph  of  a  wheelman,  gliding  through  the 
wildwood,  is  impressed  upon  the  cover  in  blue  and  orange ;  and  a  page  of  "  additions  and  cor- 
rections "  forms  the  appendix.    The  preface  says  that  leas  than  half  the  600  racing  men  filled 


TEN  THOUSAND  MTJ 


<:>jv  ^4  si<^ 


i«j'«l|U«»ic«,ai.i™oI 


I  (Svo,  ijopp..  jot) 
1.  Bride  a..  Ludgile 


Seclty  &  CcKt  Emcx  M-  ;  JulVi 
I  C4DHrburj»  talun  in  Aug.,  '^t 
wu  republuhed  a  motith  laLer  by 
liaed  by  Ihfl  wheel  preu  of  both 
luot,  "Two  Pilgrimt'  Progiesii 


.  will  bs  wiillen  by  VixMinl  Bury 
,  cb.  II,  ■»,  laid  :  •■■Tbc  Ytar'i 
;ii:e;  u  canfully  pul  Igplber  and 
l:.,'"— wto  U perhap* ihe  viKount 
k ,  anaaiallj  lUodcd  lo  by  Wtttl- 
- ;  designed  And  bnnpikd  (or  codec- 
:^ct  fi  Soul  '«>  pp.,clDLh,  giltj  JO 
■  te  W.  C.  Marvin,  of  Oirid,  Mich,, 
ii>gTaphi,  with  a  |»ctuTe  and  poeLical 
■  |Miken  ol  by  ihc  pnu.  "  A  PodceL 
.  by  lUmDlon,  Aihmi  &  Co.  in  '78. 
...»  by 4i in.,  mnrocco,  wilh  pencil 
-..-o  Strand,  and  had  "  contenta  mil- 


678  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

wrilu  I  wnQir  report  la  n»  (Ang.  ;>u  tothc  pmpKU  of  the  N.  V.  road-book  :  "Jan.,  'ft 
ig  ifao  probiblE  di»  of  pubJicaUon.    Copia  will  be  given  10  Diviiioa  memben  and  wld  10  olbi 

maps.  Moidi'gadinitled.  ConCribulioni  tfaould  be  k 
N.  y.  My  L.  I.  book  hai  nol  yel  paid  con  of  priDting, 
eipecltoiuueaided.forilleuenlialL.  J.  (acu  wUI  appearin  N.  Y.  booli." 

Mmy  paragraph!  were  current,  duiingihe  till  half  of  'Bj,  to  the  eSecl  that  the  Kcdio 
Wheel  Oub.  of  Coflogton,  "ould  toon  publish  a  book  ot  joo  pp.,  dcKrihing  »U  the  n»di  t 
Kentucky  and  tho«  of  Ohio,  near  Cindmiali,     The   compiler  wai   P.  N,  Meyera  (b.  Sept,   il 

aod  Ky„  and  I  wUI  present  it  to  you,  if  you  can  use  any  of  ii  in  your  book."    "  The  A  n  C  of 

publi.hedhy  H.B.Hart,  gii  Arch  .1.,  Phill.,  and  commended  Ihu.  by  ^AWwi/Uune  13,'So, 
p.  164} ;    "  lu  half-doien  iUuUralioiu  ue  carefully  drawn  and  aid  well  the  ten,  which  hh 

learner  needs  to  know."    R.  Clarke  &  Co.,  of  CiDciunali,  publiibed  in  '84,  or  eailter,  "  Ama- 

Col.  Horace  Park,  who  \i  a  practical  mechar^ic  and  gunimilh  and  an  old  mouni^neer,  beins 
also  author  of  the  "  Sportsman'!  H ami-Book  "  (ibno,  f  i|,  and  who  uys  that  "  a  catef  ul  study 
o(  Ibis  little  manual  will  enable  any  person  of  ordinary  mechanical  skill  to  make  his  own  re- 
pairs, at  a  very  slight  expense,  and  greatly  prolong  the  lite  ot  his  l»cyde."  In  a  list  o(  pnblio- 
tiDOB  recommended  by  C,  E.  Pratt,  in  Apr.,  '84,  I  £nd  the  following :  "Suggestions  forCbcoce, 
Care  and  Repair  of  Bicycles  and  Tricycle);  by  an  Old  Wheelman  (ad  ed.,  36  pp..  loc.)";   bul 

what  similar  scope,  "Inslnictions  10  Wheehnen  "  (designo)  10  warn  them  against  those  spedal 
sorts  of  negligence  and  tiik  which  threaten  to  strain,  bend,  break  or  olherwiie  injure  their  m- 
ehines),  Is  in  preparalioa  [01  the  spring  of  %/,  by  C.  M.  Richanis  (b-  Feb.  ro,  '60),  who  hai 
been  tor  the  last  three  years  connected  with  the  Popes'  New  York  oHice,  at  la  Warren  st.  Many 
of  his  leisure  hours  during  "85  were  devoted  to  compiling  road-reports  (solicited  from  correspond 
ents  in  the  South  and  West,  at  the  request  of  the  editor  of  OUbit).  for  monthly  puhlicaliOB 
daring  '86  in  thai  magazine.  Its  sale  to  new  owners,  who  give  no  apace  to  cycling  matters,  looL 
place  ptH about  at  Ihetime  when  his  bulky  manoscripl was  ready  (or  delivery;  and  he  tells  me 
it  was  lost  in  the  transfer.  F.  Alcott  Pratt,  sec.  of  the  Mass,  B.  C,  informs  me  of  his  inten- 
titm  to  compile  a  list  of  roads  explored  by  members  of  the  club  in  Mass.  and  beyond,  as  a  sort 
ot  dub  guide,  as  soon  as  he  may  have  leisure.  The  imprint  of  W.  I-  Menhon  &  Co. ,  Rahway, 
N.  J,,  i)  the  only  local  hint  of  its  ori^n  given  on  a  pamphlet  (r6  pp.,  Feb., '86)  entitled,  "The 
Advantages  of  CycKng,  with  practical  suggeidons  on  learning  and  riding ;  by  s^T*-"  '  suppose 
il  is  no  secret  that  th^  numeral  stands  for  L.  B.  Porter,  president  of  the  Orange  Wanderer^ 
who  has  frequently  Kgnedii  to  [necesinthe  Bl.  Wurld  txACjKU.  The  pamphlet  refrains  from 
naming  aity  particular  machine,  and  it  seems  to  have  been  issued  for  distribution  among  hjs 
(riiinds,  and  "  for  Ihe  good  of  the  cause." 

copyrighted  by  Chas.  E.  Pratt,  primed  by  Rockwell  &  I 

packed  full  of  factsand  opinions  well  calculated  to  interest 
'S4,  its  }d  ed.  of  a  year  hiler  was  called  "  the  too,oooth  " ; 
free  distribution,  by  the  same  pobtiihers,  of  a  48  p.  8«o,  n 
to  All  Wheelmen,  Present  and  Pnispective ;  containing  1 
pirints."  This  is  a  weH-printed  colleciion  of  testimonials i 
Is  net  disfigured  by  advenisemenls.  The  same  can  be  st 
"  OS-name  setapiook"  (ja  pp.,  Svo,  May,  '86),  also  w 
Ihetr  business  and  to  thai  of  every  (Mher  dealer  in  cyct 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  679 

ductkni  in  minialaic  ol  tbc  lidv-puce*  of  (he  cfaiof  Amerivn  diuliei,  wetklia  vid  magjumtt,  at' 
IvticUlT  pDupcd ;  aod  X  doubJe  CDliuzin  of  Bxtxacu  (aediLed  ta  lh«e  uid  other  lourat,  And 
prlDtcd  m  vaikniA  iiKft  ujd  jtyLu  of  type)  covcf  each  p^e  aod  look  like  veriLable  dipping! 
pftAed  od  iheeu  of  brottn  piper,  Pniie  uf  ihe  Columbia  wbceli  of  coune  aboimdi  in  these 
"ecTApe,"  bul  ol  iea«  half  of  them  give  letlimoiiy  for  cycling  Id  general ;  aod  the  ume  rule  wu 
f^jeerred  in  pultiog  together  the  "  Columbia  Calendar  for  "SC,'*  on  whoee  ceolrai  pad  (if  by  4 

caid  iuelf  <9  by  11  in,),  UUiographcd  in  gilt  and  colorij  ie  formed  of  1hf«  Attractive  cycling  pici< 

the  onumeDUl  litle-pige  to  their  ninth  anniul  atalcigue  (ji  pp.,  Bvo,  KockweU  &  Churchill, 
print.)  wat  iticiuded  in  the  group  tm  Ihe  Knp-book  cover,  jhul  meotioned,  and  wu  the  only 
biDl  there  given  of  ili  origin.  The  catak^ue  was  rcprodkiccd  bodily,  from  elcctroLypes,  in  tfie 
L.  A.  H'.  Bn^BtiFrb.  16,  '96,  pp.  i])-i6i),  and  the  latter')  printer  look  oath  that  mote  than 
a  ton  of  paper  was  required  for  the  fsoo  copies.  The  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  in  aimilu  fuliion, 
reprinled  their  fourth  atmual  calakguc  Cs'  PP-i  ^vo)  in  Ihe  Bi.  ^0r^(^fay  j6,  'it6,  pp.  a9>4ti). 
Sloddwd.  Loveiing  &  Co.  seem  la  have  let  the  eiample  in  this  ton  of  enierpriie,  honever, 
utbe  5>r.  IfA.  (w.  of  Mar., 'S5,  gave  lApp.  la  Iheii  catalogue  i  and  in  Feb., '36,  they  made 
■nolber  notable  contribution  to  Ihe  trade's  Uurature,  calling  it  "  The  Agent's  Guide,  or  how  u 
make  money  by  selling  Ihe  Rudge  bicycles  and  tricycles."  The  book  is  compiled  by  their  man- 
ager, H.  D,  Corey  (b,  Jan,  is,  '64).  from  nmeriai  collected  Jibroad  and  in  this  coiuiiiy.  and  from 
four  years*  experience  in  the  busineu;  and  it  includes  chaplen  headed  as  follows  :  '*The 
pieaent  want  in  the  cycling  trade;  where  to  commence  aod  how;  about  hiring, — Ifie  safest  plan; 


An  earlier  scheme  in  the  trade  wus  that  of  the  Cunoinghani  Co..  who  in  'Si  issued  sheet 

menlsupon  the  second  and  last  pages.  The  first  of  their  proposed  "  seven  cycling  songs  at  30  c- 
each  "  (and  the  only  one  I  ever  saw,  though  "  Over  ihe  Garden  Wall "  was  named  as  No,  a) 
bore  the  lille.  "  All  on  Kmunt  of  Ellta  i  air  from  the  opera  of  Billee  Taylor ;  words  by '  Ouiia  '1 
dedicated  la  the  Bauon  B,  C"  Al  the  top  was  the  legend,  "As  sung  by  (possibly)  Kd 
Kron,  and  other  lesser  luminaries,"— suggested,  I  suppose,  by  my  Pinalorie  chant  al  the  Newport 
dinner  of  Ihe  League  in  '3o.  In  July,  'go,  was  advertised  "  Misier  ToUas  Isaias  Elias,  a  rollick. 
iogW.  songi  words  by  S.  Conant  Foster i  music  by  H.  N.  Sawyer;  price  40c.";  and  Ihe  words 
were  reproduced  in  Ihe  '84  vol.  of  "  Wheel  Songs."  The  BL  Wtr/ii  (Sept.  4,  'So,  p.  $70)  ac- 
knowledged the  receipt,  from  Lee  &  Walker,  of  Philadelphia,  ol  "  gicyde  Glide,  a  sheet  of  in- 
Binimental  music,  by  W.  Diedeiich,  preuily  illustrated  with  4  scene  from  Fairmounl  Park  "  ; 
and  the  BiJItIm  (Mar,  j,  '96,  p,  iSj)  speaks  thus  of  tlie  illustnted  title-page  to  Ihe  "  League 
Walti,  dedicated  to  Ihe  L.  A.  W.,  by  Geo.  Fred.  Brooks,"  ol  ihe  Albany  B.  C.  :    "  Behind  Ih* 


V.  banner,  is  an 
in  pntHle,  and  amnng  them  »  Been  the  full  lace  o[  ll 
cap  and  spectacles."  t  have  never  seen  either  al  Ihe 
ei-CapL  and  ei-Pres.  of  the  Chicago 
drill  lor  clubs),  and  "  Club  Songs  "  (se 
rooD  of  the  former  hare  been  sold,  id 
Milwaukee  B.  C.  songs  which  A.  S.  Hi 
and  that  10  them  were  added  (in  the  id 
maguine  (May,  'gj,  pp.  140-41)  by  Anl 
Calls,  adapted  [or  wheelmen  fnm  the  n 
by  J.  R.  Heard,  illustrated  by  J.  C.  Ch 
by  the  Bi.  tftrld,  whidi  advertised  il 
Enflaad.  A  Newburypoit  couespoDdi 
Is,  p.  9;)  aa  the  best  attainable  UMt  on  I 


-e  crowded  grotesque  masks,  moMly 


68o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

pages  of  "  AgricttUure  of  Massachua^tts,  second  series,  1869-70,"  an  annual  report  oflSdaUy  pab* 
lished  by  the  Sute  at  Boston ;  and  the  implication  is  that  the  League  ought  to  circulate  a  cheap 
reprint  thereof  for  the  general  good.  "  The  World  on  Wheels  "  was  the  title  of  a  bulky  octavo, 
issued  in  the  centennial  year, "  by  a  practical  carriage  builder,"  whose  name  and  publisher  I  foigot 
to  take  note  of  when  I  saw  the  mighty  tome  appealing  for  help  in  a  seoond>hand  bookstore. 
The  author-builder  dismissed  cycling  quite  curtly  in  a  single  page,  as  a  subject  unworthy  of  so 
practical  a  personage  as  himself ;  and  he  evidently  considered  that  ui  giving  pictures  of  iu  two 
representative  **  toys,"  —  the  viloce  of  *6S,  and  iu  prototype,  the  druUitu^  of  a  half-centary 
earlier, — he  was  doing  the  last  act  of  history  for  this  despised  comer  of  the  "  wheel  worid." 

"  The  Road  and  the  Roadside,"  by  Burton  Wtllis  Potter  (b.  Feb.  8,  '43),  a  lawyer  of  Wor- 
eester  (Boston  >  Little,  Brown  &  Co.;  lao  pp.  of  30,000  words,  cloth,  |i),  is  a  well-written  and 
neatly-printed  book  which  ought  to  be  owned  by  every  American  wheel  club,  and  read  by  every 
rider.  Its  preface,  dated  May,  '86,  says :  "  The  laws  as  herein  stated  are  the  present  ones  of 
Mass.,  relative  to  public  and  private  ways,  and  therefore  may  not  all  be  applicable  in  other 
States ;  but  inasmuch  as  the  common  law  is  the  basis  of  the  road  law  in  all  the  States,  it  will  btt 
found  that  the  general  principles  herein  laid  down  are  as  applicable  in  one  State  as  in  another, 
lltese  chapters  were  written  and  read  as  a  lecture  before  the  Mass.  Board  of  Agriculture,  ia 
Dec,  '8s,  at  Framingham,  and  have  sinoe  been  pub.  in  the  '  Report  on  the  Agr.  of  Mass.  for 
*8s.'  They  are  now  given  to  the  public  with  the  hope  that  they  will  exert  some  little  influence 
in  promoting  good  roads  and  the  love  of  rural  life, — two  things  which  I  sincerely  believe  are 
essential  to  the  lasting  prosperity  of  any  people."  The  author's  enthusiasm  for  open-air  prog- 
ress is  that  of  a  pedestrian  simply,  but  it  shows  such  a  hearty  sympathy  for  the  true  spirit  of 
wheeling,  that  I  hope  he  may  soon  decide  to  attach  the  bicycle's  wings  to  his  feet.  His  bocA 
wholly  ignores  the  tiresome  legal  verbiage  of  the  statutes  and  judicial  rulings,  but  gives  the  gist 
of  them  in  simple  and  clear-cut  phrases  which  are  pleasant  to  read  and  easy  to  remember.  He 
deserves  the  thanks  of  all  wheelmen  for  putting  in  their  reach  so  compact  a  statement  of  the 
defence  which  the  common  law  offers  them  against  "  repressive  local  legislation,"  aiming  at 
interference  with  their  equal  rights  upon  the  road.  He  demonstrates  that  there,  as  elsewhere, 
the  one  essential  thing  for  them  to  remember  is  the  ancient  axiom  (which,  except  for  my  dislike 
of  a  Latinized  title-page,  I  should  have  adopted  as  a  motto  for  tliis  book) :  **Sie  utere  tu9  ml 
turn  alitnum  UtdasJ**  That  maxim  is  only  a  Roman  amplification  of  the  sturdy  Saxon  i^raae, 
"  Mind  your  business  " ;  and  tffbse  three  words,  when  rightly  interpreted  and  obeyed,  seem  to 
me  a  sufficient  rule  for  ensuring  to  any  man  an  honorable  progress  along  the  great  highway  of  Life. 

An  authoritative  biography  of  Col.  Albert  A.  Pope  (b.  May  so,  '43),  written  by  John  N. 
McCIintock,  editor  of  the  Massackuaetts  Magazine,  covers  the  first  8  pp.  of  its  June,  '86,  issue 
(Boston,  as  c),  and  is  fro^ed  by  a  wood-cut  portrait  and  fac-simile  autograph  (the  same  block 
being  used  also  in"  Wheelmen's  Reference  Book  "),  copied  from  the  lithographic  reproduction  of 
a  life-size  crayon  sketch  (July,  '8$ ;  sheet  19  by  24  in. ;  25  c),  published  by  Root  &  Tinker,  Nassau 
St.,  N.  Y.,  as  No.  6  in  their  series  called  "  Men  of  Mark ;  library  edition."  Another  ornament 
fora  club-Twm  wall  is  a  colored  lithograph  of  a  cycling  scene  (Jan.,  '85;  xa  by  24  in. ;  15  c), 
which  has  no  other  suggestion  of  advertisement  about  it  than  the  word  "  Columbia,"  half-hidden 
in  the  tessellated  pavement  of  the  foreground.  On  Feb.  14,  *«S,  the  owners  of  the  same  trade- 
mark  distributed  among  their  patrons  many  thousands  of  a  **  Columbia  valentine,"— a  card  6  by 
8  in.,  lithographed  in  gilt  and  colors  with  scenes  of  "  morning,  noon  and  night,"  and  having 
appropriate  verses  upon  the  back.  As  an  advertising  novelty  in  '86,  they  issued  a  **  slate  "  (iS 
by  24  in.)  on  whose  black  surface  the  "  Columbia  records  "  were  apparently  chalked  in  white; 
and  they  promise  that  the  pictorial  calendar  now  in  preparation  for  '87  shall  surpass  all  previous 
issues  in  magnificence.  An  eariy  piaure  of  Col.  Pope  can  be  found  in  Bi.  Worid  (July  sa, 
'81,  p.  129),  accompanied  by  biographical  sketch.  Mention  may  be  made  of  the  "  CU^ptr 
Almanac  "  as  a  repository  for  the  race-records  of  cyclers  and  other  athletes,  which  is  often 
quoted  as  an  authority  by  "  sporting  men. "  The  Gov't  Printing  Office,  by  authority  of  the  Sec- 
retary  of  War,  issues  "Official  Table  of  Distances"  (8vo,  304  pp.,  Apr.  13,  '85),  for  die  guid. 
ance  of  disbursing  officers  of  the  Army  diarged  with  payment  of  money  aUowaaocs  for  travel 


68? 


-\s  republished  *  mmiih  h 

..ok,  "Two  Pilgrinu' Pro 
UoberU  Broi.).  being  i  rep 
J,  called  "  Throogh  Itilyon 
voliunes,  "  de^EDcd  4a  a  it 
;  v-ill  be  wriilen  hj  Viwouti 


■lends,  desigriMl  and  con 

jpiled  for  collec- 

Palmer  &  Soni-,  loo  pp.,  c^olh,  e>Ii,  50 

Lhe  bu  W.  C,  Marvin,. 

oC  Ovid,  Mich., 

.jr  .ulographj,  with  apiel 

.■  well  .pollen  ol  by  ihe  pre 

,i.    "A  Pocket 

.  iuuod  by  HanulLon.  Adu 

u  Sc  Co.  in  'jS. 

■[.'S7Pp..»lby4H'...m™ 

ceo,  wilh  pencil 

and  pirhap.  later.'   "TheW 

n;eelmao->  Year 

.c..c!«1.6oc.;edileaby  H. 

T.  Round,  com- 

...-  preu  Doiicei  of  Ihe  limibr  book  for  'Si,  which 

laleriHuci    The  ea'liert  ad.,  wl 

hiehlhivejeen 

■-  ai./«n-.,AoB.9,'7^p.  Ij)-    ' 

'  A  Bicycle  Ride 

.  Yorke  Shullle- 

15  of  pen-and.ink  ikeiches  by  Ihe  a 

lulhor  (London  : 

Kowiiacj."    The  C/c/urof  June 

11.  •g4,  h»d  an 

by  the  Guard  ClUffe.,  60  pp.,  M  c): 

.nd  a  review  of 

i.  Football  and  Lawn 


..i;n.pclotS,6oi..il 

Cur«r,  at  Ihe  club 

lore  than  a  seremh  ol 

jfficen,  local  coniuti. 

■a«ary(Apr.,'M,lo 

..  to.in.),  "rfio-ini 

T.  C.  Map  and  Road 

Thefir«li«ied>,o( 

682  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  in.,  37  by  a  I  in.,  with  roads  colored,  in  sti£E  cover,  at  37  c.  per  square  (or  62  c,  if  mounted  on 
linen)."    I  have  before  me  No.  13  of  these  squares,  which  shows  the  south  coast  from  Hastings 
to  Brighton  and  beyond,  and  it  seems  as  perfect  a  guide  as  a  wheelman  need  ask  for.     It  is  backed 
with  cloth,  and  jointed  into  az  parts,  3^  by  4  in.,  so  as  to  fold  into  a  pasteboard  cover  of  thai 
size,  and  its  weight  is  4}  oz.    The  same  publishers  have  also  sent  me  their  "  cycling  map  of  so  m. 
round  London,*'  4  m.  to  i  in.,  the  sheet  being  jointed  into  33  sections,  so  as  to  fold  into  a  doth 
cover  4  by  6  in.  (|i.as,  or  63  c  without  the  linen  back ;  weighs  4}  oz.) ;  and  this  has  blue  circles 
drawn  at  5  m.  intervals  from  St  Paul's,  and  bright  red  marks  for  dangerous  hills.     I  likewise 
have  their"  France,  compiled  and  reduced  from  the   Government  maps,  and  colored  in  de- 
partments, railways  and  roads,  aS  by  36  in.,  aS  m.  to  i  in."  (62  c.  and  $1.25),  the  main>roads 
being  shown  in  yellow.    In  cloth  cover,  8  by  4  in.,  without  linen  backing,  it  weighs  3)  oz. ;  and 
I  should  recommend  this  cheaper  and  lighter  edition  of  all  their  maps  as  quite  durable  enough 
for  any  ordinary  usage.    Their  "cycling  map  of  England  and  Wales"  is  on  more  than  double 
the  scale  of  "  France,"  being  la  m.  to  i  in.,  but  though  it  covers  a  sheet  37  by  32  in.,  it  weighs 
only  I  oz.,  as  the  paper  used  is  of  the  "  bank-note"  quality, — thin  and  tough.     I  speak  of  the 
edition  which  is  supplied  at  35  c.  as  a  supplement  to  "  Howard's  Roads"  (whose  cost,  bomid 
in  blue  cloth,  limp,  is  otherwise  ^1.25),  but  62  c.  is  charged  for  it,  if  it  be  bought,  separately 
from  the  "  Roads,"  in  a  pasteboard  case  of  its  own.     I  should  say  that  this  map  alone  would  be 
amply  sufficient  for  the  wants  of  any  American  long*distance  ri<ier  in  England ;  and  to  indicate 
ks  excellence  by  comparison,  I  call  it  far  superior  to  the  lithographed  map  (34  by  34  in.,  8  m.  to 
I  in.)  which  accomiianies  the  '86  ed.  of  the   League's  Ohio  road-book,  though  the  latter's  scale 
is  one-third  larger.    Two  other  more  expensive  editions  of  the  same  chart  (thick  paper  at  $1.35, 
linen  backed  at  $2.63  ;  weight  of  the  latter,  is  oz.)  are  offered  the  tourist  who  isn't  content  with 
it  as  found  in  Howard's  book ;  and  in  these  the  best  cycling  roads  are  marked  yellow  and  the 
dangerous  hills^red,  with  a  special  dot  showing  the  more  dangerous  side  of  the  road.    The  same 
publishers  supply  for  the  "  C.  T.  C.   Handbook"  (5th   ed.,  Apr.,  '86)  its  colored  "divisional 
map  of  the  British  isles  "(13  by  19  in.,  40  m.  to  i  in.)  with  county  boundaries  dotted,  and 
rivers  and  mountain  ranges  shown,  but  no  roads ;  and  from  their  advertising  list  I  announce  the 
following:  "  Scotland"  and  "  Ireland,"  each  31  by  37  in.,  13  m.  to  i  in.  (35 c  or  63  c),  "  show- 
ing   the  road,  rail  and  water  communicAion,  with  mountains,  hills  and  lochs  "  ;  "  Kentish 
Watering  Places,  Heme  Bay  to   Dover,  34  by  34  in.,  i  m.  to  i  in."  (13  c.  and  35  c)  ;  "  En- 
virons of  London,"  39  by  30  W  (25  and  50  c),  "  showing  each  r.  r.  system  in  distinct  color,  and 
all  the  parks,  streams  and  landmarks  in  bold  style" ;  and  "  County  Maps"  (46),  17 by  14  in., 
(12  c,  as  c.  and  50  c.).     Four  of  these  maps' form  a  monthly  part  (25  c.)  in  "  Letts's  County 
Atlas,"  and  besides  their  showing  of  best  cycling  roads  in  yellow,  dangerous  hills  in  red  and  dia- 
tances  from  town  to  town,  a  great  deal  of  special  and  statistical  information  is  appended  to  each. 
Their  "  World's  Atlas  "  ($10  to  $25)  has  had  a  very  large  sale.     I  repeat  the  new  firm-name 
and  address  (Mason  &  Payne,  41  Cornhill,  London,  E.  C.)  of  the  men  who  have  succeeded  to 
the  old-established  map  business  of  the  Lettses,  for  the  sake  of  saying  that  they  not  only  adver- 
tise  to  supply  "  maps,  atlases,  globes,  guide-books  and  all  standard  works  of  travel,"  but  have 
shown  their  sincerity  by  subscribing  for  ten  copies  of  this  book  of  mine,— the  largest  order  which 
has  come  to  me  from  beyond  the  United  States.     A  lesser  number  have  been  bespoken,  how- 
ever, by  C^eo.  Philip  &  Son,  of  32  Fleet  St.,  who  express  the  hope  that  they  may  "  want  more," 
and  who  send  for  ray  review  a  "  map  of  Surrey  "  (a  m.  to  i  in.,  with  London  in  n.  w.  comer), 
saying  that,  as  all  their  46  "  county  maps  for  cyclists  "  (25  c.)  are  on  sheets  pi  the  same  size  (at  by 
15  in. ;  stout  paper,  weighing  a  oz.  in  cloth  cover,  6  by  3 J  in.),  the  scale  decreases  in  the  larger 
counties,  the  lowest  being  5  m.  to  i  in.    The  main  roads  are  distinctly  colored ;  red  arrows  of 
varying  designs  indicate  (1)  "hill  to  be  ridden  with  caution,"  (2)  "  put  on  brake,"  (3)  "  danger- 
ous—dismount "  ;  red  capitals  show,  "  (C),  consul  of  C.  T.  C. ;  (H),  recommended  hotel ;  and 
(X),  repair  shop" ;  and  on  the  back  of  map  is  an  alphabetical  list  of  towns  naming  the  "(H) *• 
hotels.     I  can  hardly  imagine  a  tourist  wanting  a  better  guide  than  this.     Copies  with  linen 
backs  can  be  had  at  double-price  (50 c),  and  that  sum  is  also  charged  for  "  Lancashire."  whid> 
covers  a  double  sheet.    The  same  publishers  advertise  "  handy  county  atlases  "  (crown  8vo, 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  683 

doth  87  c,  leather  $1.50)  as  follows  :  "  England,"  43  maps;  "  Ireland,"  33  maps ;  "  Scotland," 
3a  maps;  *'  Wales,"  16  maps  (62  c);  together  with  a  great  variety  of  tourist  maps  of  the  British 
isles,  and  of  various  localities  and  districts  therein  (indexes  being  promised  with  many  of  them), 
and  a  series  of  38  pocket  maps  (32  by  27  in.,  25  c),  comprising  nearly  all  the  other  countries. 
L.  Upcott  Gill  (170  Strand,  London)  advertises  (Wkegling^  July  14,  '86)  a  30  c.  "route  map 
ol  England  and  Wales,  linen-mounted  and  cased  in  cloth,  showing  dearly  the  main  roads,  dis> 
tances  between  towns  as  well  as  mileage  from  London,  and  having  30  of  the  most  interesting 
tours  spedally  marked  in  red."    The  same  adv.  also  names,  as  an  eighth  annual  issue,  "  Bicycles 
&  Tricycles  of  '86,  a  chronicle  of  all  the  new  inventions  and  improvements  of  the  present  season, 
designed  to  assist  intending  purchasers  in  the  choice  of  a  machine"  (illust.,  25  c),  by  H.  H. 
Gri£Sn,  formerly  ed.  of  the  BL  News.     Wm.  Collins,  Sons  &  Co.,  Bridewell  PI.,  London,  £. 
C,  pub.  a  cycling  map  of  England  and  Wales,  in  15  sections  (each,  m  a  case,  50  c.  or  62  c;  4 
m.  to  I  in.),  which  the  Cyclist^  of  June  zi,  '84,  called  "of  an  extremely  useful  nature,  more 
accurate  than  many,  and  with  main  routes  clearly  marked  in  colors."    Jarrold  &  Sons,  Nor- 
wich, were  recommended  by  Wkeeling  (July  2S,  '86)  as  pub.  a  series  of  cheap  but  well-printed 
county  maps;  and  T.  Coventry  &  Co.,  Moss-side,  Manchester  (Aug.  4,  '86),  as  pub.  these  local 
maps  :    «*  Forty  Miles  Round  Manchester,"  "  Yorkshire,"  "  Lake  Districts,"  "  North  Wales." 
Some  account  has  been  given  on  p.  549  of  A.  M.  Bolton,  the  youthful  author  of  "  Over  the 
Pyrenees  on  a  Bicycle"  (167pp.  of  about  58,000  words ;  25  c,  Strand  Publbhing  Co.,  London, 
'83),  which  is  a  fairly  readable  story  of  "  adventures  among  the  Spaniards,"  though  all  the  prac- 
tical information  as  to  roads  and  distances  is  compressed  into  three  pages  at  the  end.     P.  550 
may  be  consulted  for  R.  E.  Phillips's  description  of  his  "  Guide  to  Machines  and  Makers  " 
('79-'8o),  "  Pocket  Road  Guides  "  ('8i-'86),  "  Things  a  Cydist  Ought  to  Know  "  ('82-'86,  25,000 
sold  at  2  c),  and  "  Abridgment  of  Velocipede  Specifications  "  (Iliffes,  '87,  by  subscription  at 
$5.25).    The  paper  "  On  the  Construction  of  Modem  Cydes  "  which  he  read  before  the  Institu- 
tion of  Mechanical  Engineers  (Oct.  26,  '85,  at  Coventry)  was  published  by  the  same  in  a  pam- 
phlet which  Wheeling  characterized  "  as  profusely  illustrated  and  invaluable  for  reference  " ; 
while  the  BL  World  repeated  this  complimentary  adjeaive  and  many  others  in  devoting  its  entire 
editorial  page  to  a  description  and  review  of  the  book  (Mar.  5,  '86).     His  "  Pocket  Guides  "  cost 
only  4  c.  each  (j  c.  being  added  for  postage  on  every  12),  and  the  whole  set  of  160,  in  a  case,  with 
key  index,  #5.25 ;  while  his  "key  index,  with  skeleton  maps,  from  which  any  desired  route  may 
be  selected,  containing  also  the  description  of  the  contour,  and  the  surface  of  the  roads,"  is 
mailed  separately  for  14  c, — his  home  address  being  Selhurst  Road,  South  Norwood,  London, 
S.  E.     "  Self  Propulsion  and  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  Velodpedesand  Manumotive  Carriages," 
by  W.  M.  Morris  (b.  Dec.  20,  '59),  Consul  of  C.  T.  C,  is  a  book  of  89  pp.,  exclusive  of  9  adv. 
pp.  and  a  half-dozen  inserted  lithographs  of  queer  machines  that  preceded  the  bicycle.    There 
are  30  pictures  in  all ;  and  the  last  half  of  the  letterpress  is  divided  between  "  advantages  and 
statistics,"  and  "  practical  hints  and  instructions,  useful  either  for  a  novice  or  an  adept  "  (board 
covers,  6  oz.,  25  c).    The  substance  of  the  compilation  was  read  at  two  evening  sessions  of  the 
"  Pontypridd  Mutual  Improvement  Class,"  eariy  in  '85,  and  publication  was  made  at  their  re- 
quest by  Morris  Brothers,  of  Cardiff,  South  Wales,  manufacturere  of  the  "  Cambrian  "  cycles 
and  dealers  in  all  sorts  of  cycling  spedalties,— -whose  price-list  of  Jan.,  '85,  covers  60  pp.  and 
says  "esublished  in  '72."    I  have  received  from  Fred.  Warner  Jones  (b.  1843),   "A  Treatise 
on  the  Theoretical  &  Practical  Construction  of  the  Tricycle  "  (Iliifes,  '84,  pp.  76,  -4^  oz.,  37  c), 
a  carefully  written  and  neatly  printed  pamphlet,  with  2 1  illustrative  diagrams,  accompanied  by 
the  following  autograph  letter,  responding  to  my  enquiries  (Sept.  26,  '85) :  "  I  was  educated  at 
the  Exeter  Grammar  School,  where,  at  15  years  of  age,  I  took  first  mathematical  prize  among 
170  boys  ;  and,  after  becoming  civil  engineer,  I  completed  my  studies  in  locomotive  engineer- 
ing by  nine  months'  tuition  at  the  Bow  Locomotive  Works.     I  first  turned  my  attention  to  cy- 
des in  '78,  when  I  patented  the  Devon  tri.  and  the  Devon  Safety  bi.,— the  latter  being  now 
made  in  America  by  Gormully  &  Jeffery,  of  Chicago,  as  the  patent  has  lapsed.     I  further  in- 
vented and  patented  the  tri.  roller-saddle  and  swing-frame,  which  shift  the  rider's  position 
according  to  the  gradient ;  and,  this  year,  the  swing-framed  safety  bi.    The  Devon  stop  bell, 


686         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

scribed  oo  p.  554-  "  The  Liverpool  Cyditu'  Pocket  Guide  and  Qub  Directory  for  '85  "  (64 
pp.  and  40  adv.  pp. ;  8  c.,  3^  ox.),  third  year,  is  edited  and  published  at  a  Brunswick  st.,  by 
Geo.  £.  YouDg,  "  official  taiior  and  uoiform  maker  to  the  C.  T.  C."  and  various  cycling  dube. 
Its  frontispiece  is  a  photo,  of  G.  B.  Mercer,  president  of  the  Anfield  B.  C,  who  is  disiii^guished 
as  a  long-<iisunce  rider;  and  its  "  long-distance  register  "  gives  details  of  103  rides  of  100  m. 
or  more  in  34  h.,  which  were  taken  in  '84  by  men  living  in  or  near  Liverpool  The  fourth  a«titiy| 
issue  of  the  guide  QyAy^  '86)  contains  a  photo,  of  G.  P.  Mills,  who  took  the  "  J.  O'G.  record  '* 
in  the  wonderful  time  of  5  days,  i  hour,  45  minutes.  "  Tricycles  and  How  to  Ride  Them,"  a 
series  of  penny  reprints  from  the  Tricyclisif  describing  the  8  following  machines,  are  mailed  for 
3  c.  each  by  the  Iliffes :  Humber,  Coventry  Roury,  No.  i  Challenge,  Omnicyde,  Premier, 
Quadrant,  Rucker  and  Diana.  These  little  tracts  are  "  revised  from  the  original  by  G.  L. 
Hiliier  and  H.  Sturmey."  Of  similar  size  is  "  Cordingley's  Penny  Guide  to  Tricydiqg  "  (lo,- 
000  printed  for  ist  ed.,  Apr.,  '86),  mailed  for  3  c.  from  office  of  TrL  Journal  named  below. 

A  letter  to  me  from  the  publisher  of  the  Tri.Jourmd^  C.  Cordtngley  (Hammersmith  Print- 
ing Works,  London,  W.,  May  37,  '84),  says  :  "  I  publish,  every  Feb.,  *  The  TricydisU*  Vade 
Mecum '  (30  c),  giving  a  history  of  the  previous  year's  improvements,  with  a  description  of 
every  tri.  in  the  English  market.  Another  annual  of  mine,  '  The  Wheelman's  Year  Bo(^,* 
gives  a  chronology  of  the  year's  bicycling."  The  BL  IfVr&Z recommended  the  *'  Vade  Mecum  " 
of  '86  as  "well  worth  the  money."  The  dates  given  for  the  following  half-dozen  pamphlets 
are  those  of  notices  in  Wheelings  whose  opinions  and  descriptions  I  quote  :  "  The  Scottish  A. 
C.  Pocket  Directory,"  compiled  by  H.  Buchanan,  Sec.  Ayr  C.  C.  (pub.  at  Ayr  by  A.  H.  Lang,  6 
c),  gives  a  pile  of  information  in  its  columns,  induding  a  complete  directory  of  Scottish  dubs, 
sketches  of  C.  T.  C.  and  N.  C.  U.,  the  rules  to  be  observed  on  Scottish  roads,  and  the  various 
railway  rates  (Oct.  8,  '84).  A  valuable  little  "  Guide  to  North- West  Kent "  (46  routes,  6  c),  by 
Edgar  Neve,  Sec.  Facile  B.  C,  can  be  obtained  at  the  Eng.  and  Foreign  Library,  Blackheath, 
S.  E.  (June  10,  '85) ;  the  sd  ed.  (60  routes,  6  c.)  has  just  been  published  at  the  Cycle  Supply 
Depot  at  Blackheath  (June  16,  '86).  We  have  received  from  James  Lennox,  of  Dumfries,  the 
well-known  long-distance  rider,  a  copy  of  his  "  Road  Guide  to  the  Southern  Counties  of  Scot- 
land." It  is  an  admirably  compiled  little  book,  and  is  far  in  advance  of  any  work  of  its  kind 
that  has  ever  fallen  into  our  hands.  No  detail,  however  insignificant,  that  can  be  required  by 
the  tourist,  has  been  overlooked  by  the  compiler,  while  the  work  is  got  up  in  such  a  compact 
form  that  it  can  be  carried  in  a  coat-pocket  without  inconvenience.  Pub.  by  J.  Menzies  &  Co. 
of  Edinburgh  (Sept.  16,  '85).  An  interesting  litde  pamphlet,  extracted  from  the  Church  0/ 
Ireland  Tem^eranee  VisitoTt  entitled  "  From  Holyhead  to  London  on  Tricydes,"  by  £. 
MacD.  C,  has  reached  us,  and  provides  good  reading.  Pub.  by  Falconer,  Dublin  (Feb.  3, 
'86).  "  The  Tricycle  and  Tricycling  "  b  the  title  of  a  neady  got  up  little  handbook  issued  by 
the  Ballantyne  Press.  It  contains  much  valuable  information  and  is  worth  the  price  (la  c)  and 
a  bit  more  to  a  novice.  The  author  is  "  B.,  C.  T.  C.  and  N.  C.  U.,"  which  is  a  gratifying 
piece  of  information  (June  9,  '86).  We  have  received  a  copy  of  the  "  Southern  Omnties  Camp 
Handbook,"  which  is  a  capitally  gotten  up  little  pamphlet,  giving  every  information  to  the 
would-be  camper,  whilst  the  way  in  which  advs.  have  been  captured  for  the  handbook  reflects 
the  greatest  credit  upon  the  business  capabilities  of  the  hon.  sec,  Jupiter  Pearce  (July  14,  '86X 
"The  Training  Instructor,"  pub.  from  the  Sportsman  office,  139  Fleet  St.,  E.  C.  C^Si  doth 
bound,  35  c),  is  recommended  to  bi.  racers  by  Wheelings  which  also  praised  "The  Song 
of  the  Wheelist,"  music  by  Harriet  Kendall,  words  by  "  Rae  Banks,"  Liverpool  (London 
Music  Pub.  Co.,  '84).  Among  the  books  advertised  for  sale  in  the  Cycling  Times  of  Nov.  3, 
'85,  at  its  office,  East  Temple  Chambers,  Whitefriars  St.,  I  infer  that  these  two  were  published 
there  :  "  British  High  Roads,  arranged  for  the  use  of  tourists ;  illust.  by  41  splendid  maps  on  a 
scale  of  I  of  a  m.  to  i  in.  Part  I.,  crimson  doth,  93  c,"  and  "  The  Bicyde  Annual  for  '80 (a 
few  copies  only  left),  containing  170  road  routes  and  an  enormous  mass  of  useful  information, 
together  with  a  photo,  of  the  Anglo-American  Professional  Bicyde  Team,  68  c"  The  similar 
annuals  for  '77  (ed.  by  C.  W.  Nairn,  100  pp.),  '78  (portrait  of  J.  Keen),  '79  (portrait  of  F. 
Cooper,  1 1 1  bi.  routes),  '81  and  '83,  compiled  by  C.  J.  Fox,  editor  of  the  Tcmmv ,  cost  30  c,  which 


UTERA  TURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  687 

m  ptenmablr  the  fint  price  d[  Ihe  'So  iuue.  Each  aoniul  differed  in  miKellineain  contenli, 
■nd  periupi  tbe  Miiemwu  prolonged  beyond  'Ki,  "  The  Bicycle  for  ■74"  (Bvo,  150  pp.,  joc.) 
«u  »l»  lollowed  by  '76,  '77  >nd  '7*  itwe",  differing  in  conlenU,  having  (ewer  pagei;  and  lell. 
bi|(or  ijc.  Ii  wu pubUahed Iram  the  cffice  oi-Cta Bi^rcUJamaHf^Sx.  Bride  ii..  Ludgate 
Hill),  a  penny  weekly  oi  11  pp.  which  nude  *  ^leoiliy  of  ndng  nenn,  and  died  laag  ago. 
"  The  CytJiai's  Guide  to  (he  Koadi  of  the  I^ke  Diwid  aj>d  Itle  of  Man  "  wai  iuued  prerioug 
to  'St  by  N.  F.  Duncan,  oI  Cicliile.  "  A  Caatcibuiy  Pilgrimage,  ridden,  wrilleo  and  illua. 
tntrd  by  JoKpb  and  Elizabelb  Rnbiiii  Pennell  '*  (LiODdoa :  Seeley  &  Co,,  Euejt  lE. ;  July, 
'gjl  >q.  Sro,  i;  c),  docribcs  a  Ihree  dayi' tout  from  [.ondon  to  CiDlcrbury,  taken  in  Aug.,  '84, 
«  a  landem  iHcycle,  by  a  Philadelphia  miu  and  hia  wife.  It  was  republiihed  a  month  later  by 
C,  ScribneHi  Soni,  of  New  York,  al  jo  t,  and  haa  b«D  praiied  1^  Iho  wheel  presa  of  both 
couDtries.  The aame  happy  piirwill  Isue  in  Oct.  a  umilar  book,  "Turo  Pilgrimi' Progrea i 
or,  Italy  iron  a  Tricycle"  (London  :  Seeley  ft  Co. ;  BoHon  :  Roben*  Una.),  being  a  reprint  o[ 
■nicies  conlributed  bylhemlolheCV>i'iiri'(Mir.  andApr.,'S6),  called"  Through  Italy  on  a  Tri- 
cycle."   Longman  &  Co.  announce  in  preparation  a  Beriei  of  volumes,  "  designed  as  a  sEandan] 

indG.  Lacy  Hillier,  edilor  of  £i.A'm.  That  paper  cf  Feb.  11,  "SS,  said  :  "'ThcYear'i 
Sport '  (Longmans,  550  pp.)  has  |iisl  made  iti  firat  appeuuice  i  is  carefully  put  together  and 
readably  wrillen  \  and  the  cycling  secii™  n  lupptied  by  *  B.,'  "^vho  is  perhaps  the  riscount 
JDit  mentioned,  and  also  Ihe  author  nf  the  recent  (ricyding  book,  taioslicilly  alluded  lo  by  Wlutl- 
mff,  as  quoted  on  Ihe  previous  page.  "  My  Cycling  Fiieods,  designed  aod  compiled  for  collec- 
lion  o(  aniogiaphs,"  by  C.  Alan  Palmer  (London,  A.  Palmer  &  Sons]  100  pp.,  cloth,  gill,  so 
t),  was  advertised  as  early  as  Mar.,  'i^,  at  (i,  by  Iho  tale  W.  C.  Marvin,  of  Ovid,  M^h., 
"  sole  agent  [or  Ihe  U.  S."  ll  conlaios  joo  spaces  (or  aulc^raphs,  wilh  a  picture  and  poetical 
quotalion  accompanying  each ;  and  il  has  been  very  well  spoken  of  by  the  press.  "  A  Pocket 
Manual  of  the  Bicycle  "  C]i  pp.,  jl  by  j  in.)  was  issued  by  UamDlon,  Adima  ft  Co.  in  '7S. 
"The  Bicyclist's  Pocte-Booli and  Duiylor  '78"  (iSjpp.,  al  by  4) in.,  morocco,  with  pencil 
■nd  pockets)  was  issued  from  the  office  o(  Ihe  Cimiitry,  17a  Sliand,  and  had  "  contents  wetl- 
diosen  and  valuable,"  It  appeared  again  in  '79  and  perhaps  later.  "  The  Wheelman's  Year 
Book,  Diary  and  Almanack  (or  '81"  (paper  JO  c,  cloth  tot ;  edited  by  H.  T.  Round,  com. 
inled  and  pub-  by  W,  D.  Welford,  Ncvcastlfron.Tyne)  promised  in  its  advertisement  to  **  con* 
aini5oio3oopp.,"andquoledmany  favorable  press  notic»  of  the  sirodar  book  [or 'Si,  which 
was  sold  at  same  prices.  Pet^ps  there  were  bter  issues.  The  eiriiesl  adv.  which  I  hive  seen 
of  a  tourins  pamphlet  was  the  following  (..^m.  Bi.J,mr.,  Aug.  7,  '75,  p,  13).  "A  Bicycle  Ride 
from  Rusiia,— Eydkuhneu  10  Langenweddingen,  near  Bninawick,— by  Wm.  S.  Vorke  Shultte- 
worth,  with  miniature  map,  and  phofographs  of  pen-and-ink  sketches  by  Ihe  auihor  (London  : 
L  Snow*  Co..  1  Ivy  Lane,  Paternoster  Row;  30  c.)."  The  C/clu/ot  June  11,  tt,  had  an 
sdv.  of  "Westward  Hoi  on  a  Sociable,"  by  the  Guard  [lliffes,  topp.,  i4C.)i  andareviewof 
"The  Cycle  Direclnry,"  by  Chas.  Spencer  (London  i  Cassell  ft  Co.,ioopp.,cloih,  so  c.f,  de- 
nted to  nam;s  and  addresses  of  clubs,  hotels,  machines,  manufacturers,  dealers  and  "  wheel. 
Bwn  generally,''  no  less  Ihan  SDOO  ol  the  laller  being  alphabetiud.  Of  (he  same  date  was  Ihe 
id  ed.  of  Capt,  Robert  Cook's  "  Official  Handbook  of  the  Cyding,  Cridiel,  Football  and  Lawn 
Tennis  Clubs  of  Esses  "  {Chelmsford :  Durrani  ft  Co.,  loo  pp.,  4  t).  The  loth  ed.  of  Ihe 
"C.T  C  Handbook  ft  (Mde  "  (Apr., 'W;  J04  pp..  <  by  Si  in,  no  adv.,  limp  dolh,  601.,  15 
■  ■  ~  "  ■  on,  ed,  C  r.  C  Gfintlt,  ai  the  club 
m  advance  by  more  thin  a  seventh  of 


Ihe  "  C.  T,  C,  Hap  and  Road 

mg  ol  'By,  The  first  Iwo  eds,  ol 
ne  eds.  had  1  page  |  in,  narrower 
'Bs  "  is  a  pamphlet  of  76  pp.,  7 


688  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

by  lo  in.,  the  same  sue  as  the  GaatUe,  without  titk-page,  or  date,  or  |vice>mark ;  but  I  inief 
that  it  appeared  in  Jan.,  '66,  and  that  copies  may  be  bought  of  the  secretary  for  z8  c.  The 
introductory  note  says :  "  These  names  of  those  who  renewed  their  membership  by  payment  of 
the  annual  fee,  when  added  to  names  of  candidates  published  month  by  month  in  the  Gtutttt 
(beginning  with  Jan.)i  will  give  the  complete  C.  T.  C.  membership'  at  any  penod  during  the 
current  year."  As  each  page  contains  95  lines  of  fine  type,  m  double  columns,  and  as  nearly 
every  Une  contains  the  name  and  address  of  a  subscriber,  the  total  is  about  14,000.  The  names 
are  arranged  alphabetically  in  36  geographical  "divisions," — whereof  37  belong  to  En^aad, 
Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  cover  all  but  5  of  the  76  pp.  Of  the  9  foreign  "divisions,"  the 
American  is  by  far  the  largest,  covering  2  pp.,  with  nearly  400  names.  "  Coy's  Athletic  Club 
Directory  for  '82  "  (London :  at  Leadenhall  st)  was  mentioned  in  '83  by  a  French  compiler, 

A.  DeBaroncelli,  as  "  giving  the  names  and  addresses  of  aH  the  English  cycling  clubs  " ;  and  he 
also  catalogued  the  following  titles  of  English  pamphlets,  without  any  other  details  than  those 
now  reproduced  :  "  The  Whirs,"  pub.  at  the  office  of  the  Bi,  Tinus  ;  "  On  Wheels ;  "  "  Bi- 
cyclist's Handy  Record;"  "He  Would  Be  a  Bicyclist;"  "Velocipedes,"  by  Velox(SUnsL. 
•69) ;  "  The  Yelodpede,"  by  T.  F.  B.  (25  illust.,  '69) ;  and  "  The  Modem  Velocipede  **  (illusl., 
'69).  It  seems  likely  enough,  howev#,  that  the  real  original  of  one  of  these  latter  titles  may 
have  been  J.  T.  Goddard's  American  book  of  similar  name  and  date,  described  by  me  on  p.  402. 
"  Velocqiedeia,"  by  Jupiter,  of  the  Rovers  B.  C,  a  burlesque  extravaganza  in  3  acts,  was  adv. 
in  Bi.  News  of  Apr.  4,  '84,  as  "  the  only  bicycling  play  ever  performed ;  a  few  o^ies  can  still  be 
had  at  this  office,  price  13  c."  "  The  Guardians,"  by  Ixion  (pub.  at  Bi.  New*  office,  xa  c), 
was  catalogued  in  '79,  by  C.  E.  Pratt,  as  "  a  burlesque  with  parodies  "  ;  and  he  also  recom- 
mended Knight's  Mechanical  Dictionary  and  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica  for  articles  on 
"  Velocipede  "  and  "  Bicycle  "  respectively. 

British  and  Australian  Journausm. 

The  seven  journals  now  supported  by  the  cycling  trade  in  England  may,  very  likely,  repre- 
sent more  than  twice  as  many  others  which  have  failed  in  the  struggle  for  existence  ;  though 
my  own  list  of  the  dead  exhibits  only  a  round  dozen  of  names.  Birmingham's  weekly,  the 
Midland  Athletic  Star  and  Cycling  News,  and  monthly,  Cyclos  (by  W.  J.  Spurrier),  both  seem  to 
have  been  killed  by  their  titles, — the  former  being  too  long  and  the  latter  too  Greek  for  "  Brum- 
magem popularity."  Manchester  also  had  a  weekly,  the  Athletic  New*  and  Qyclut^  JourmU 
($3),  and  Newcastle-on-Tyne  a  monthly,  Cycling,  which  was  mentioned  in  Mar.,  '79,  as  "  x6 
pp.,  sm.  4to,  lUust.,  6  c,  managed  by  W.  D.  Welford,"  who,  in  Dec.,  *8i,  advertised  for 
American  subscriptions  at  $1.    Appended  to  it,  for  some  time,  was  the  Monthly  Circular  of  the 

B.  T.  C,  whereof  Mr.  W.  was  then  secretary.  DeBaroncelli's  list  fA  '83  said,  "  Cycling  w9A 
pub.  in  London,  by  C.  J.  Fox,  at  the  office  of  the  Bi.  Times,**  which  soon  afterwards  "ab- 
sorbed "  it ;  and  the  same  list  mentioned  the  Bicycle  and  Tricycle  Gasette,  without  giving  de- 
Uils.  Another  paper,  the  Bicycle  Gazette  (fortnightly,  jM)*  was  pub.  at  Coventry,  by  C.  Dniry, 
early  in  '79,  and  perhaps  gave  way  to  the  present  Cyclist,  which  began  there  Oct.  aa,  '79.  An 
adv.  of  that  date  described  the  Athletic  JVorld(p»h.  by  E.  W.  Allen,  11  Ave  Maria  Lane, 
London,  $4)  as  "  a  representative  weekly  of  bicycling  and  kindred  sports  " ;  also  a  as  & 
pamphlet  by  the  same  publisher  :  "  How  I  Cured  Myself  of  Nervousness,  by  acricus,"— the 
"  simple  means  of  restoration"  being  presumably  a  bicycle.  An  adv.  of  Dec,  *8x,  mentioned 
Ixion  (la  c.)  as  "  a  new  illust.  monthly,"  issued  from  the  Bi,  Times  office ;  though  it  began  in 
Jan.,  '75,  if  I  am  to  believe  a  chronicler  (Wheel  IVorld,  Mar.,  '85,  p.  4")  who  says,  "  Ixim 
was  the  first  cycling  monthly  and  had  but  a  short  life."  On  the  same  authority,  "  the  Bii;yck 
Rider* s  Magazine  was  begun  in  June,  '76,  and  ed.  by  T.  Frauds  Garrett,  a  somewhat  erratic 
medico,  who  preferred  practicing  with  his  pen,  instead  of  in  Ae  orthodox  manner,  and  whose 
attempts  at  facetiousness  were  particularly  extraordinary."  Perhapa  there  were  two  Ixwrns^ — 
the  "  short-lived  "  one  of  *75.  and  *«  "  new  "  and  not  kmg-Iived.  one  of  *8f .  On  this  theory, 
I  infer  that  the  longest-lived  of  all  the  dead  was  the  BicyeUIottmal,  which  C.  E.  Pratt's  Kst  of 
Mar.,  *79»  notes  as  "a  la  p.  weekly,  sm.  4to,  making  a  specialty  of  racing  news  and  selling 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  IVHEEL.  689  . 

for  K  [wany  ** ;  becmuK  be  recorda  (hat  an  addui]  oXhA  "  the  Bic^rda  ^'  ma  igeoed  frou  id 
ofiice»  14  Si.  Bride  at-»  Lodgaie  Hill,  frorn  ^74  to  'jZ.    At  this  waekly  pmunubly  preceded  th« 

The  compeiitioa  of  younger  and  more  enterpnsicg  iheeu  Keau  lo  have  bioughl  the  Bi. 
Vrma  ilieli  10  the  veiy  verge  <rf  ihe  gia»e,  when,  in  the  autimm  of  '85,  iii  oiigirul  publUhcr 
»nd  propnelor,  Benj.  Oegg,  of   ij    York  M.,Co»enl  Garden,  »W   il  to  the  [MaiWiaiiiv 

«.,— beginning  ttiaaewieiie9,OtX.g,  'a},i>  "Vol.  XI.,  Ho.  1,"  (hough  ibe  tenth  aonual  vol. 
wDuM  not  legnliiif  luva  ended  imtil  Dec  15.  Jamn  Inwarda  wai  tditot  [min  Jan.  ;, ';«,  till 
Oct.,>Sai  ihenToint>loate(wbobulbe<inhiiiau>uiitfioniMar.,  >»,)  dlJDec.  3c>,'a4;  then 

Chronicle,  a  peimanent  t  p.  aupplement  In  the  B.  N.,  for  iniercominuoicatioii  between  dub 
■nemtien  and  the  general  pubKc."    The  main  paper,  "  edited  by  fjcr  HilHer,"  hai  la  pp.  of 

graphic  appearance  rather  neater  than  that  of  the  other  weeUiei.  Like  (hem,  it  lella  tor  a  c : 
Iboogh  the  price  of  the  old  B.  If.,  ohich  had  only  ,6  pp.  (incL  4  adv.  pp.),  waa  4  c    Ite  date 

licularly  good  for  dub  dcnnga  and  partraita  of  cycling  celebriciea,  with  tkelcbel  "  (began  May, 
'77,  at  Eait  Temple  Chambera,  WUlefrian  at,  :  weekly,  b  c,  ao  pp.  incl.  id  adv.  pp.).  I  infer 
that  ill  editors  were  C.  W.  Nairn  and  C.  J.  Fdi,  ai  ibey  edited  the  "  Bicycle  Annual  fur  '77  " 
and  following  yean,  nhich  waa  iaaued  from  the  aiine  office  ;  and  the  Cycitut  Timti  a  Mill 
printed  and  published  there,  every  Tuesday,  by  the  proprietor,  H.  A,  Barrow,  with  Mr,  Foi 
aa  editor,  though  hit  name  ii  not  aonouDced.  I  do  not  know  just  when  the  " Bi."  waa 
knocked  off  from  iti  title ;  but  a  tub-head  prDclainis  the  fact  that  it  ii  a  cDntinnation  o(  the  S. 
T.&'T  G.,  and  also  of  the  Newcatlle  nionlhly.  Cycling.    It  now  baa  14  pp.  (Si  by  13  in.). 

lume  the  head  of  the  firm  may  have  been  ihe  samB  H.  E.  [b.  Aug.  37,  'jj)  whoee  career  je 
tkctcbed  on  pp..  546-9  ibrf>,  though  no  mention  ia  there  made  of  any  such  early  connection  wiih 

;fA«/  i^crld.  with  G.  Lacy  Hilliet ;  ran  it  with  great  iuc«»  for  iS  moa.,  (hen  loU  it  well  to 
IliSe  &  Son,  and  cnnlracled  an  agreement  lo  publish  i(  and  the  CjicUmI  at  their  office!,  I}!  Flee( 
St.,  for  the  London  diuricl.  I  did  well  by  both  ioumala,  but  in  May,  ^%^,  diuolved  all  conneo 
lion  with  the  IliSes,  and  started  the  wtelily,  W/Ui/inf."  I  think  that,  at  about  thle  (ime,  he 
may  also  have  pub.  the  SfBrlinr  Mirrer,  which  was  dated  from  No.  iji  i  and  that  the  new 
London  office  of  (he  Iliffei,  at  9S  Fleet  «.,  wai  put  in  charge  of  Harry  A.  Judd  (b.  Aug.  16, 
';7),  the  pnaeat  editor  of  their  Iflu^  WerU,  by  whom  the  £nt  1  eds,  of  Siuimey'a  "  India, 
pensible  "  had  been  pub.,  at  Weymouth,  in  'ji  and  '79,  with  other  books  before  mentioned. 

"  Edited  by  William  McWillian  &  Harry  Elherington  "  was  a  phrase  in  the  writers'  fac 
umile  aulograpb,  printed  beneath  iho  large-script  title,  Wlitiling,  from  the  in  to  Ihe  171b  number 
of  that  Wednesday  weekly  (Apr.  30 10  Oct,  a»,  '84)  '•  'h' 
■ecretaryahip  offered  bylhe  proprietor  of  the  Rudgecy 
alone  until  Ihe  91st  iasue  (ihough  Tom  Moon  waa  h 
13,  'S6,  Ihe  lUlDgraphic  style  has  been  :  "  ediled  by ' 
mounling  the  legend,  in  black  capitals :   "SolePropr 

McWilliam,  "  who,"  laid  H.  E.,  In  parting  with  hir 
thank  him  moat  ainccrdy  for  his  penevennce.    Bat 


690 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


eanyed  to  rirsd  the  paper  I  had  previously  published.'*  This  was  the  Cyclist ^  issued  cnrj 
Wednesday  since  Oct  32,  '79,  of  which  I  have  given  some  account  on  p.  548.  It  was  at  that 
time  undoubtedly  the  meet  prosperous  journal  in  the  trade, — the  issues  of  June  4  and  11,  '84 
(which  are  the  latest  ones  I  Ve  seen),  each  having  40  adv.  pp.,  with  antral  letterpress  of  20  pp. 
and  26  pp.  respectively,  dooble-columns,  as  meat  for  the  "  sandwich  " ;  and  "  all  for  a  penny.*' 
Its  sub-title  is  "  Bicycling  and  Tricycling  Trades'  Review,"  and  its  final  line  reads  thus : 
"  Printed  and  pub.  for  the  proprietors,  W.  I.  Iliffe  &  H.  Sturmey,  by  IlifEe  &  Son,  12  Smith- 
foid  St.,  Coventry."  Mr.  S.  is  named  as  provincial  editor,  and  C.  W.  Nairn  as  editor  for  the 
London  district.  The  iVktel  W^orid,  iUost. 

monthly,  with  the  same  editors- and  publishers,  is  adv.  as  "  companion  magazine  to  the  Cyclut  "; 
and  from  July,  '82,  until  Oct.,  '85,  the  Iliffes  also  issued  (Fridays,  4  c.)  the  TrkycUst,  '*  devoted 
to  the  sport,  the  pastime  and  the  trade  ;  edited  by  Lacy  Hillier  ". 

This  had  12  to  16  pp.  of  neatly-printed  letterpress,  same  size  as  BL  News  but  doufaie- 
columned,  and  an  outer  advertiser  of  8  or  10  pp. ;  and  I  think  that  A^  J.  Wilson  (see  p.  534  for 
biog.)  was  employed  as  a  regular  contributor  or  assistant  ed.,  though  his  name  was  not  printed  as 
such.  Thus,  "  the  Coventry  ring  "  possessed  the  field,  with  these  three  eminently  respectable 
trade-circulars  of  the  "  heavy  literary  "  sort,  when  their  quondam  partner  audaciously  projected 
Wheeling,  and  sought  to  win  a  foothold  for  it  by  forcing  as  pointed  a  contrast  as  possible  in  re- 
gard to  "  style."  He  chopped  everything  up  itito  short  paragraphs,  excluded  all  elaborate  ndng 
and  touring  reports,  offered  money  prizes  for  brief  articles  on  current  topics,  printed  autographs 
and  portraits,  and  adopted  a  "  slap-bang,  hurrah-boys,"  unconventional  form  of  editorial  expres- 
sion, garnished  with  an  abundance  of  that  well-known  sort  of  "  American  slang "  which  is 
never  used  in  America.  He  was  rewarded  for  this  by  immediate  success,  to  which  "  the  Cx>v- 
entry  ring  "  promptly  bore  testimony  by  starting  an  imitation  weekly  (Friday,  Oct.  7,  '84), 
Wheel  Life,  "  the  cyclists'  society  paper,  edited  by  W.  McCandlish."  It  hsul  16  pp.,  the  same 
size  as  Wheeling  (9  by  13  in.),  but  better  printed,  with  a  supplementary  "  cartoon  sheet  '*  and 
only  a  few  advertisements ;  whereas  Wheeling  had  la  adv.  \f^.  in  addition  to  za  pp.  of  letter- 
press between  them.  Wheel  Life  devoted  innumerable  paragraphs  and  articles  to  ridicule  and 
abiise  of  Wheeling,  though  without  printing  its  name  (and  the  latter  adopted  the  same  rule  in 
its  retorts,  and  also  refrained  from  printing  the  names  Cyclist  and  Tricyclist,  and  even  the  word, 
**  cyclist ") ;  but,  nevertheless.  Wheel  Life  and  the  Tricyclist  both  "  lost  money  for  their  own- 
ers with  great  hebdomadal  regularity,"  until,  in  the  early  autumn  of  '85,  the  Iliffes  gave  up  all 
hope  of  trying  to  "  run  out "  the  hated  interloper,  and  adopted  a  more  prudent  way  of  lessen- 
ing the  competition  in  an  overcrowded  fiekt.  In  preference  to  a  flat  admission  of  defeat,  they 
bought  up  the  moribund  Bi.  News^  as  before  related,  for  the  sake  of  "  consolidating  "  their 
two  unfortunate  ventures  under  the  title  of  that  "  oldest  cycling  paper,  estab.  1876,"  whose  full 
heading  now  reads  thus :  "  Bicycling  News  and  Tricycling  Gcaeite  with  which  are  incorporated 
the  Tricyclist  and  '  Wheel  Life '  (with  Club  Chronicle)."  Tlie  phrase  "  edited  by  Lacy  Hillier 
&  W.  McCandlish  "  was  shortened  to  include  L.  H.  alone  when  W.  McC.  withdrew,  in  leas 
than  three  months,  to  become  editor  of  Wheeling,  taking  with  him  F.  Percy  Low  and  £.  A. 
Lloyd,  of  the  Bi,  News  staff,  and  leaving  there  H.  H.  Griffin,  A.  J.  Wilson,  A.  G.  Morrison 
(see  p.  535)  and  H.  G.  Kelly,  who  had  worked  for  one  or  another  of  the  three  old  papers.  A 
portrait  and  brief  sketch  of  W.  McCandlish  (b.  Oct  14,  '60),  appeared  in  BL  World  {}Avt.  5, 
^86,  p.  305),  showing  that  he  was  bom  in  Belleville,  Canada,  of  Scotch  parents,  and  that  he 
uses  "  Agonistes  "  and  "  Junius  Junior  "  for  press  signatures.  His  associate,  F.  Percy  Law 
<b.  Dec  9,  '61),  is  a  native  of  London,  and  I  think  that  "The  Octopus"  is  a 
which  belongs  to  him.  His  predecessor  as  "  joint  ed.  of  Wheeling*^  during  '85, 
Moore  (b.  June  30,  '6j)),  who  also  preceded  him  as  ed.  of  Bi.  News,  '81-4,  and  whose 
and  biog.  appeared  in  Wheeling,  Dec.  31,  '84,  when  he  began  with  that  paper  a  year'a  < 
ment.  In  the  course  of  this,  he  often  used  the  signatures  "  Ubique,"  "  The  0*Fbinigia  "lad 
"  The  Man  with  the  Gimlet  Eye  " ;  and  since  Feb.  3,  '86,  he  has  been  ed.  of  the  Thiijiijig: 
faa/rmtl,  "  the  representative  tri-newspaper ;  also  devoted  to  amateur  photography  and 
sobjects;  printed  and  pub.  every  Wednesday  by  Chas.  Omiingley,  Hamwnnr 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  691 

Worlu,  London,  W."  The  Iitur'i lettcrbi  me,  Mi)  i;, '84,  Bid :  "The  T"./- «*a>ib.  in 
Uif,  '4)11  bed.  by  Chiu,  CocdiDgky,  and  pub.  byCoTdiDgleT&  Sharp  (x> pp.,  si  by  11  in.);  '* 
b«l  Ihe  liile^Bge  oi  VqI,  1  reidi  IhiB :  -Tht  Tric^liHtJmrnaiatidMaitMfaetartT^AiatT- 
titrr;  the  TiicydJsu'  Advenber,  Vide  Mecum  lud  Guide  lo  Cydiog ;  June  ij  10  Dec  7,  'Bi ; 
London:  pub,  by  AJfred  Gibbon.,  171  Strind."  Announeemeni  mu  aside  July  ij,  'Sj,  thil  C 
Coidingley,^.,  hidUMimed  iheediiorahip:  ind  1  wppoM  he  uicseedcd  bii  laihet  ihen  ud 
held  the  place  unlU  Feb.,  '86.  The  ed.  of  ihe  Photo,  Dept.  i>  CiJeb  B.  Smith ;  ind  coniinuni. 
olioniwilhreletence  tnilihouldbeaddreiudiDhiniii  jjSCoveatry  Roid.  Birmin|haiD.  Of 
Ibe  paper'!  10  pp.,Boulade  ud  1  or  j  iiuideire  ^ven  u>  idir.  i  and  the  outer  riieet,  which 
hu  in  engraved  heading  dore  ornate  Ilun  itlnclive  {though  by  no  mraikt  aa  ugly  a»  the  head- 
ing! o(  the  CiKlia.  Cycling  Tima  ind  C.  T.  C.  OuUO),  wai  (onnetlyoi  colored  piper.-blue. 
reilow,  pink,  ind  Ibe  ™i.  Much  of  in  matter  i.  reprint,  llie  price  haa  been  I  q..  unifomly 
Itom  ihe  ouuel.  7VB^r(r/ii.»»«/ ii  1  nicltnime  of Iso  ipplied  la  it  by  wrilera  in  other  papen. 
"  This  inagaiine  hu  incompiiBbly  Ihe  iarjen  and  most  taiiafiiU  dtculation  oi  any  wheel 
paper  in  the  world."  Such  i>  Ihe  legend  printed  at  the  lop  of  each  adveniung  page  in  the 
MimlUyGautUaiidO^ial  Ricrrdo\  Ihe  Cydiiu' Touring  Club  (founded  Aug,  s. '78,  u  B. 
T.  C),  whole  11,000  memben  receive  it  in  pan  relura  for  iheir  annual  duct  (61 1,  payable  be- 
fore Dec.  ]i,  beiidei  Ihe  firu  entrance  fetol  15  c.).  There  an  aa  adv.  pp,,o[  pink  paper,  in 
the  issue  of  May.  >86,  which  ii  called  "  New  Series,  Vol.  V.,  No.  ;,"  and  48  pp,  of  letlerprtu, 
r  by9)  in.,  in  double  columns;  though  I  think  Ihe  average  nnnber  is  somewhat  lex,  since  Vol, 
IL,  ending  with  Dec.,  '8j,  shows  only  404  pp.  MnnVt^r  O'nxlu' was  the  name  adopted  st  Ihe 
Rirt  (Oct..  'iSi,  ind  reliined,  I  presume,  nnlil  the  end  of  the  "  &«  seriu,"— say  Sept,  'Si. 
tndeni  have  been  com[»led  only  fnr  Ihe  Iwolatnl  nls..  '84-'8;.ind  are  obtainable  at  6  c  each. 
The  back  ntunbera  of  'Sf'M  miy  all  be  had  lor  11  c,  eich.  ihose  of '%%  for  iS  c,  of  'Bi  tor  i}  c, 
of  liforjoc,  mdmostof  Ihe  earlier  ones  for  61c.  The  Giattu\i  "  printed  for  and  pub- 
lished under  official  inlhority  by  E.  R.  Shiplon,  eecretaiy  and  editor,  it  the  chief  ofBcea  of  the 
dub,  t]9-T40  Fleet  St.,  London."  Hiiportrsit  and  biography  appeared  in  N-*h/  W„HdtA  June, 
•g^,  and  in  Wkalmg,  Dec.  10,  "Sji  and  his  reply  10  my  own  enquiry  ai  to  personal  wheeling 
ilaliitlci  waa  printed  thus  (Apr.,  '86,  p,  tiin  "  Vou  have  receired  the  family  pedigrees  ol  » 
many  other  nonenliiie*  nn  thia  side  Ibe  water  that  we  bag  yna  10  excuse  our  figuring  in  Ihe  list 
in  Ihe  work  you  ire  compiling.  We  ondersland  we  were  bom  on  the  lolh  of  April-^our  critics 
niturally  believe  it  was  the  isl — and  that  is  enough  tor  ns."  HisoSer  to  ejtchaoge  photographs 
with  memben  ol  Ihe  cinb  (Am  pub,  in  Sepl.,  Ii)  has  brought  upwardaof  itoo  responses  i  and 
the  namei  of  those  added  to  his  collection  are  printed  in  each  moothly  issue.  He  was  a  rider 
of  the  bone-shaker  19  f^r  back  as '68,  helped  originate  the  R.  T.  C.  in  '78,  and  becanM  Kcreliry- 
editorinSepl,,'Si<at  a  salary  of  fiiio,  afterwards  raised  to  11500),  when  I  ihink  the  new 
series  of  Gtatitt  was  begun.  For  some  lime  preriously,  it  hid  been  isaned  aa  a  supplemcnl  to 
'Cydmg,  whereof  his  ofliciil  predecessor,  W.  D.  Wellord,  wai  editor,  ai  before  related.  Ths 
coTTTsponJcnce  and  ediioriilt  of  the  Gtmttt  always  contain  mudi  matter  of  interest  to  lourrng 
wheelmen  outside  of  England  (as  well  as  "much  traah  of  doddering  faddists,"  aa  Ihe  rival  papera 
aay)  \  and  I  recommend  all  audi  lourists,  aa  a  aimtrie  means  of  getting  a  good  repreaentslive 

Hbrary  should 

itKGattltito 

Such  librai 


693  TE.V  THOCSAXD  MILES  OX  A  BICYCLE. 


ud  Ike  1Mb  oCenl  (Xor^  "Ss)  the  bo«d  Y«L  off  thk  (boanSs  and  doth  tack, 
38S  pPl)  for  94  c  TVcv  ofieRd  ior  Sx.So  eadi  tke  jd  aad  3d  vqIbl  of  Trkjciui,  for  yean  end- 
n«  JaJy,  '84,  »*  J»K,  "Ss-  ^niil  m  daik  a^  g£t.  790  p|L  cack;  afao,  in  same  style,  for  %\.<^ 
the  stk  voL  of  C>cfigr,  for  year  eaea^  Ocx^  ^  moo  pp.  I  lamum.  that  the  6th  voL  is  pro- 
Tf— fcfc>  at  dK  TIT  tale,  and  that  aH  these  imaSs  are  laowided  with  titie-pages  and  alphabet- 
ical fists  of  Lualn.1i,  Ike  SMe  astke  B-hmt  »'mHl,  amd  dK  semManoal  Tob.  of  IVheelimg. 

ptmxtA  WfOBL  dK  titleHpaee  of  VcL  3,  «koae  od.  «aa  icaCy  H.  A.  Jndd ;  thoqgh  the  title-pages 
of  Ae  a  previoos  vob.  aai:  ^  EdioBd  fav  H.  Staamey  &  C  W.  Naira."  I  have  never  seen  a 
copy  of  W,  !#'.  V  int  aenes»  ■ader  H.  Etkenasten  and  G^  L..  Hil&er,  bat  suppose  it  bqpui  in 
Johr,  *3d  (see  p^  S4S\  and  had  a  imnTier  page  aad  a  aore  frve-and-easy  style.  Sudi,  at  least, 
are  the  dtaiactoisncs  off  tke  V.  »~.  V  **  Chmfw  aaaanl  of  '80,'*  a  shilling  8vo,  called 
**  Icirdes,**  with  advcniBcawats  iisrok.hid  Aocklr  aavag  its  zs4  PP^  of  paiagniphs  and  stories 
and  loogh  «OQd<«tL  As  •»  ike  prcsott  senes  of  »\  JTl,  indging  from  the  haU-dosen  sped- 
mens  whkh  ham  coam  to  me,  I  skocid  say  tk«  its  Eihopapks  and  sauOer  pktares  are  dis- 
tinctly inferior  to  the  best  of  the  i^aaaackms  whack  adoned  Ak  15  nambers  of  Boston's  IVktel- 
mmm  (Ma-3);  tkat  its  lipoyapbT  is  kss  ri>.fcMf..  though  ckanr  than  diat  of  any  other  English 
imde^onrnal :  and  tkat  ks  average  Sceorr  qaa^sr  is^  at  best,  no  higher  than  the  WheelmoM^s, 
la  London,  as  ia  Boston,  the  e£»r  of  sack  an  tMaa  kas  a  kasd  suaggk  to  get  enoogh  suitable 
mateiial  from  aasalears^  and  is  constaathr  toBpted  to  adteat  tkdr  *'  kne  stories,"  "  poetry  "  and 
other  trash,  no  matter  how  keoed  or  £msy  ies  pRSended  icbtionskip  to ''the  nrhed.*'  lam 
Afraid,  too,  that  B\  W,  lomer  iiti  faiis  to  accredit  the  ot^ginal  sooroe  of  reprinted  artides;  and 
I  oan  testify  tkat  my  own  cBwergiWtxms  to  k  kave  been  cmcfally  '*  e£ted  from  Coventry,**  to 
tke  tttent  of  printing  '^cydmg  "*  in  pace  of  *"  wkee^ag  "*  wkack  I  wrote.^lest  the  appearance 
of  diat  wwd  skoaM  ke]|»  to  advent  dKkmcd  weekly.  I»'%w:^r  Widi  all  its  fanlts,  how. 
ever,  I  dtonU  say  tkat  HI  tf\  cAers  an  Americin  a  smaSer  proportion  of  matter  necessarily 
nninterestiQg  to  haas«  becaast  o€  its  mexehr  peisnia!  and  kxal  significance,  than  any  of  the 
weekly  trade-circttUrs ;  and  I  skcwjd  ncrmmfnri  kim  to  spend  #1.50  for  it  lather  than  %x  for  a 
weekhr-  I  do  not  think,  thon^  tkat  »\  M\  is  wonk  twice  as  aaack  to  him  as  the  GamUe 
which  he  can  secw«  by  paying  »5  c  to  tke  C  T.  C 

**-nie  i>^^and  U'jLt*  MV^-J^/Aamml'-a.ifics.  Jan.,  *&«  ;  demy  9n>,  250  pp.,  30  c  ;  ed. 
by  C  W.  Nairn  and  H.  Stmey^  was  said  to  contain  **  ike  faSest  statistical  inlonnation  con- 
cendng  tka  ncing  of  tke  post  season :  and  o««r  500  iZvst.  of  tke  dobs  of  the  world  and  their 
badg«a>**  It  was  one  of  prin^in  I>ec.,  when  a  aanilar  book  was  annoanoed  in  press  for  Jan., 
*85,  Ferhaps  another  appeared  ia  *9b;  and  tken  may  kave  been  earSer  eds.,  as  a  sort  of  coo- 
tinnat ion  of  dte  **  Bkyd^  Anmnu,^  pnt  fonk  by  die  saaae  Mr.  X.  from  tke  Si.  Timta  office,  '77 
to  *79  or  later.  In  anotkcr  sense,  those  sofipoaed  career  edk.  may  kave  been  a  sobstitnte  for  the 
If.  H\**  ChristHMa  *''  Icydes,**  nheieof  a  aecewd  issne  puasflily  appeared  in  *8i.  I  presnme 
that  nearly  all  the  other  trade<irca2a»v  Imng  and  dead,  kave  habinally  offered  "  qxcial  feat- 
ares  **  at  Christmas  time,  after  tke  osstom  of  E^glisk  weeklies  in  general ;  bat  I  think  no  pre^ 

vioos  issue  approached  in  daborateness  *' C^  Campw  tke  *&t  Ckristmas  NoBiber  of  the  Ok^^  ** 
(Sa  pp.  and  57  adv.  ppk.  jo  c\  with  cnato  enter,  ^thogiapked  ia  gik  and  ookxs,  three  double- 
page  cartoon  supplements  ^portiaTic^  racers,  legislators  and  esh3atars;  "  see  key  in  If.  W. 
for  Jan.  **),  and  %  smaller  cats,,  drawn  by  G.  kioore.  This  seems  to  have  been  a  great  ^nrrr-n. 
for  the  copy  wiudi  caaae  to  me  in  Mar.  was  marked  **  3d  ed.'*    Tke  similar  issue  lor  '85  vras 

oilled  **  The  Great  S ^  or,  A  Joomey  tkrongh  C3PCJcKia'*  198  pp.  and  61  adv.  pp.— die 

latter  of  greenish  paper,  suAtcied  thmxghcwt  ^e  book  and  rhfatwiiing  its  aiyrgnanceX  whose 
adv.  says :  ** Tke  illnst.  are  far  in  advance  of  anything  ever  before  attenqpted;  dbe  mveutlve 
genius  of  the  anthon  being  splendidTT  canied  iMo  effect  by  dtt  facile  pencil  of  G.  Moore,  vrim 
supplies  14  full  page  litkographs.  coeucaBy  dqactii^  all  miwnrr  of  cycSng  epiwuW,  and  many 
smaller  Qlust.,  including  43  portraits  of  typka!  racing  cycSrts,  introdnced  as  center  pieces  off  43 
wt*^*^  of  diilerent  dcstgns.  Tne  text  abounds  m  wit,  kuaaor,  fun,  satire,  m  bodi 
;  and  tk««  are  two  oti^^taal  cycfing  songs  set  to  mnaic^  cilker  irf  wfciik  is  akme 


LITERATURE  O/''  HU-    tl  Hi' I  I 

P*1k. OK (ri ibe  ivaa  <1  koivt  ■■mil'  l««u*t,  jmJ  (T—  •  ""  ■   ■ 


had  )i  PF  '-itt.  I-  PI    ■ 


figo  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

asaycd  to  rini  the  paper  I  had  pnnoinl]'  publbheiL "    Thi*  wu  tha  Cjiclai,  issued  tntrf 

ling  undoubledJy  the  mtnl  pmepeToiiB  tonrnal  io  iJw  undo,— (he  iaua  of  June  4  and  11,  '£4 
(which  an  the  laleu  oaa  1  'to  Ken),  each  hining  4a  adv.  pp.,  with  (xnlnl  kttciprea  o(  »  pp. 

lu  tub-lill<  ii  "  Bicycling  and  Tricyiiliiig  Tradei'  Review,"  and  it*  final  line  reads  that: 
"  Printed  and  pab.  (m  the  proprieton,  W.  I.  IliSe  &  H.  Stumiey,  liy  Iliac  &  Son,  11  Smith- 
ford  «..  Coventiy."  Mr.  S.  ia  named  ai  provincial  editor,  aod  U.  W.  Nairn  at  editor  for  the 
Lotidon  di«ricl.  The  W**/  ifi^ld.  Ulim. 

monthly,  with  the  lameedinm'atidpnblithen.ieadii.  as  "companion  magaiinelo  the  Cytlia"; 
and  irom  July,  'Si,  until  Oct.,  'ii.  >>>e  Ilifiei  a]so  iiued  (Fridayi.  4  c)  the  Trkjelal,  "  devoud 
to  the  iport,  the  paMime  aod  the  trade  1  edited  by  Lacy  Hlllier ". 

This  had  n  lo  i&  pp.  ai  neally-printed  lellerpreas,  lame  >iie  as  Bi.  f/raa  but  doable- 
columned,  and  in  outer  idveltlKr  ai  t  or  m  pp.  ;  and  I  think  thai  A.  J.  Wilson  (see  p.  $]«  bn 


bioj.)  was  employed  as  a  regular  contrihulor  0 

assistant  ed.,  though 

isn 

■me  was  nol  printed  >s 

inch.     Thm,  "the  Coventry  ring  "   poHefled 

the  field,  with  these 

hree 

IrndE'CiiTulaTS  of  the  "  heavy  literary  "  sort,   when  their  quondam  p 

»'A«/iV .  and  "ugf"  10  win  a  foothold  for  i 

by  forcing  as  pointed 

TMI  as  poMiUe  in  re- 

gard  to  "njle."    He  chopped  everything  up 

bloihortparagnpha. 

and  touring  repotts,  offered  money  priies  for 

c,  printed  anlogTapha 

and  ponrain,  aod  adopted  a  "  ilap-bang,  hurra 

rm  of  editorial  expret- 

.oo  slang"  whicb  it 

never  uied  in  America.     He  was  rewarded  to 

this  by  immediate  s 

kly  (Friday,  OO.   y.  '%^\ 

WialLifi,  '•  the  cydisa' aociely  paper,  edit 

dbyW.  MeCatHiliah 

•    I 

hadi6pp.,ihe*ame 

Aa  ai  Wlmlmgi<t^  .j  in.),  hut  better  prii. 

ied,witha.uppl.men 

ary 

■cartoon  shew  "and 

only  a  few  advertisements ;  whereas  Wl^.tb.e  Itad  >a  adv.  pp.  in  addil 

041  to  11  pp.  of  leller. 

nicies  to  ridicnle  aad 

abu«  of  WWiw.  "hough  without  printing 

u  name  (and  the  lalte 

r  adopted  the  nmenle  in 

names  CfdUl  and  TricydiH.  and  even  the  word. 

d  the  Trirycliit  both 

■las 

tnheeaHyaummnol 

'8S. 

he  Iliffesgaveopall 

hope  of  trying  to  "  mo  out"  ilie  hated  interloper,  and  adopted  a  more  prudent- way  of  le»en- 

ing  the  competidon  in  an  overcrowded  field,    in  preference  to  a  flat  admission  of  defeat,  ihey 

booghl  up  Ihe  moribund  Bi.  Nran,  ai  before  related,  for  the  sake  of  "  coosolidaring  "  iheir 

1*0  inCanunate  ventnre*  under  Ihe  title  of  thai  "  oldest  cycling  paper,  estah.  1876,"  who«  toll 

heading  now  reads  thus :    "  Bkyciing  Nrtn  and  Trkyeting  Geaetu  with  which  are  inCDrpomed 

Ihe  TVBTf&K  and 'J^iiAr/^l/f' {with  Club  Chitinicle)."    The  phrase  "  edited  by  Lacy  Hlllier 

&  W.  UcCandliih  "  was  shortened  10  include  L.  H.  akrne  when  W.  McC.  wilhdreir,  in  leu 

'Krtling,  taking  with  him  F.  Percy  Low  and  E.  A. 

here  H.  H.  Griffin.  A.  J.  Wilson,  A.  G.  Morrini 

Ited  for  one  or  another  of  the  three  old  papera.    A 

I  (b.  Oct.  14.  '60).  appeared  in  Bi.  WsridlMw.  %. 

Beneville,  Canada,  of  Scotch   parenH,  and  thai  be 

Inr  pieu  ^natures.     Hii  auociale.  F.  Percy  Low 

ind  I  Ihink  Ihat  "The  Octopus"  is  a  pea^name 

s  "  joint  ed.  of   WkrtH-g."  during  'S;,  was  Ton 

him  as  ed.  of  Bi  tfrwi,  'gi-4,  and  whose  ponrail 

84,  when  he  began  with  that  paper  a  year's  eogagE- 

tfie  statures  "  Ubique,"  "  The  Q'Flanigin  "  and 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  691 

Works,  London,  W."  The  latter's  letter  to  me,  May  27,  '84,  said :  "  The  T.  J.  was  estab.  in 
May,  '81 ;  is  ed.  by  Chas.  Cordingley,  and  pub.  by  Cordingley  &  Sharp  (ao  pp.,  8|  by  11  in.) ;  " 
but  the  title>page  of  Vol.  i  reads  thus :  "  The  Tricycling  J <mrtuU  and  Manufacturer^  Acbter- 
tiser;  the  Tricyclists'  Advertiser,  Vade  Mecum  and  Guide  to  Cycling ;  June  15  to  Dec.  7,  '81 ; 
London:  pub.  by  Alfred  Gibbons,  172  Strand."  Announcement  was  made  July  15,  ^8$,  that  C 
Cordingley,  jr.,  had  assumed  the  editorship;  and  I  suppose  he  succeeded  his  father  then  and 
held  the  place  until  Feb.,  '86.  The  ed.  of  the  Photo.  Dept.  is  Caleb  B.  Smith ;  and  communi- 
cations with  reference  to  it  should  be  addressed  to  him  at  358  Coventry  Road,  Birmingham.  Of 
the  paper's  ao  pp.,  8  outside  and  a  or  3  inside  are  given  to  adv. ;  and  the  outer  sheet,  which 
has  an  engraved  heading  more  ornate  than  attractive  (though  by  no  means  as  ugly  as  the  head- 
ings of  the  Cyclist^  Cycling  Times  and  C  T.  C.  GaMeiU\  was  formerly  of  colored  paper,— blue, 
yellow,  pink,  and  the  rest.  Much  of  its  matter  is  reprint.  The  price  has  been  2  c,  uniformly 
from  the  outset.  Teafiarty  Journal  is  a  nickname  often  applied  to  it  by  writers  in  other  papers. 
"  This  magazine  has  incomparably  the  largest  and  most  bona  fide  circulation  of  any  wheel 
paper  in  the  world."  Such  is  the  legend  printed  at  the  top  of  each  advertising  page  in  the 
Monthly  Gaxette  and  Official  Record  oi  the  Cyclists'  Touring  Club  (founded  Aug.  5,  '78,  as  B. 
T.  C),  whose  2t,ooo  members  receive  it  in  part  return  for  their  annual  dues  (62  c,  payable  be- 
fore Dec.  31,  besides  the  first  entrance  fee  of  25  c).  There  are  20  adv.  pp.,  of  pink  paper,  in 
the  issue  of  May,  '86,  which  is  called  "  New  Series,  Vol.  V.,  No.  5,"  and  48  pp.  of  letterpress, 
7  by  9^  in.,  in  double  columns ;  though  I  think  the  average  number  is  somewhat  less,  since  Vol. 
IL,  ending  with  Dec.,  '83,  shows  only  404  pp.  Monthly  Circular  was  the  name  adopted  at  the 
start  (Oct.,  '78),  and  retained,  I  presume,  until  the  end  of  the  "  first  series,"— say  Sept.,  '81. 
Indexes  have  been  compiled  only  for  the  two  latest  vols.,  '84-'85,  and  are  obtainable  at  6  c.  each. 
The  back  numbers  of  '84*'86  may  all  be  had  for  12  c.  each,  those  of  '83  for  18  c,  of  '82  for  25  c, 
of  '81  for  50  c.,  and  most  of  the  earlier  ones  for  62  c.  The  Gazette  is  "  printed  for  and  pub- 
lished under  official  authority  by  E.  R.  Shipton,  secretary  and  editor,  at  the  chief  offices  of  the 
club,  139-T40  Fleet  St.,  London."  His  portrait  and  biography  appeared  in  Wheel  IVorldol  June, 
'84,  and  in  Wheeling,  Dec.  10,  '84 ;  and  his  reply  to  my  own  enquiry  as  to  personal  wheeling 
statistics  was  printed  thus  (Apr. ,  '86,  p.  155):  "  Vou  have  received  the  family  pedigrees  of  so 
many  other  nonentities  on  this  side  the  water  that  we  beg  you  to  excuse  our  figuring  in  the  list 
in  the  work  you  are  compiling.  We  understand  we  were  bom  on  the  loth  of  April — our  critics 
naturally  believe  it  was  the  ist — and  that  is  enough  for  us."  His  offer  to  exchange  photographs 
with  members  of  the  club  (first  pub.  in  Sept.,  '82)  has  brought  upwards  of  1200  responses;  and 
the  names  of  those  added  to  his  collection  are  printed  in  each  monthly  issue.  He  was  a  rider 
of  the  bone-shaker  as  far  back  as  '68,  helped  originate  the  B.  T.  C.  in  '78,  and  became  secretary- 
editor  in  Sept.,  *8i  (at  a  salary  of  $1250,  afterwards  raised  to  $1500),  when  I  think  the  new 
series  of  Gazette  was  begun.  For  some  time  previously,  it  had  been  issued  as  a  supplement  to 
'^Cycling,  whereof  his  official  predecessor,  W.  D.  Welford,  was  editor,  as  before  related.  The 
correspondence  and  editorials  of  the  Gazette  always  contain  much  matter  of  interest  to  touring 
wheelmen  outside  of  England  (as  well  as  "much  trash  of  doddering  faddists,"  as  the  rival  papers 
say) ;  and  I  recommend  all  such  tourists,  u  a  simple  means  of  getting  a  good  representative 
trade-journal  from  that  country  at  the  least  possible  expense,  to  join  the  C.  T.  C.  Every  club 
library  should  take  pains  to  procure  the  two  indexes  and  **  renewal-lists,"  for  binding  up  with 
the  Gazettes  of  '84-s,  even  if  it  cannot  afford  a  complete  set  of  the  earlier  vols. 

Such  libraries  should  also  secure  the  present  series  of  Wheel  World{i%  to  56  pp.,  ra  c),  "  the 
only  illust.  monthly  mag.  of  cycling,"  for  the  Iliffes  offer  its  bound  vols. ,  cloth  and  gilt,  at  $2  each 
— the  ist,  from  July,  '83,  to  June,  '84,  "  containing  600  pp.,  13  full-page  portraits,  and  numerous 
smaller  pictures  "  ;  and  the  2d,  from  July,  '84,  to  June,  '8$,  "  containing  558  pp.,  13  portraits, 
13  cycling  scenes  and  13  hill  sections."  The  third  year  of  the  series,  ending  with  July,  '86,  has 
been  divided  into  semi-annual  vols. ,  "  3  "  and  "  4,"  whose  price,  bound,  I  do  not  know.  They 
have  a  page  of  the  same  size  as  Ouiimg'Sf  and  a  cover  whose  design  differs  from  that  of  the  two 
previous  years,  when  the  page  was  |  in.  wider.  Both  covers  were  drawn  by  Geo.  Moore,  as  well 
M  nearly  all  the  pictare*.    Ue  also  sappUod  most  or  ail  of  the  17  carto^aa  whi«h  iltso««tcd 


693  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

WlutlLifi;  and  the  IHffes  offered  (Nov.,  *85)  the  bound  vol.  of  this  (boards  and  clot' 
388  pp.)  for  94  c    They  offered  for  $3.8to  each  the  ad  and  3d  vols,  of   Tri^clist,  for  year- 
ing  July,  *84,  and  July,  '85,  bound  in  doth  and  gilt,  790  pp.  each ;  also,  in  same  style,  fi>r 
the  5th  vol.  of  Cyclist t  for  year  ending  Oct.,  '84,  1000  pp.    I  presume  that  the  6th  voi 
curable  at  the  same  rate,  and  that  all  these  journals  are  provided  with  title-pages  and  .• 
ical  lists  of  contents,  the  same  as  the  Wheel  Worlds  and  the  semi-annual  vols,  of  // 
No  names  of  eds.  have  been  printed  with  the  monthly  issues  of  W.  W.,  1  think,  and  1 
peared  upon  the  title-pa^e  of  Vol.  3,  whose  ed.  was  really  H.  A.  Judd ;  though  the  l. 
of  the  3  previous  vols,  said:  "  Edited  by  H.  Sturmey  &  C.  W.  Nairn."    I  have  nev-. 
copy  of  tV.  IV.^s  first  series,  under  H.  Etherington  and  G.  L.  Hillier,  but  suppose  it  ' 
July,  '80  (see  p.  548),  and  had  a  smaller  page  and  a  more  free-and-easy  style.    SueV. 
are  the  characteristics  of  the   IV.  IV.^s  "  Christmas  annual  of  '80,"  a  shilling  "- . 
"  Icycles,"  with  advertisements  sandwiched  thickly  among  its  334  pp.  of  paragraphs  .i- 
and  rough  wood-cuts.    As  to  the  present  series  of  W.  JV.,  judging  from  the  half-cl 
mens  which  have  come  to  me,  I  should  say  that  its  lithographs  and  smaller  pictut 
tinctly  inferior  to  the  best  of  the  illustrations  which  adorned  the  15  numbers  of  Bost<  - 
moM  ('83-3) ;  that  its  typography  is  less  elegant,  though  clearer  than  that  of  any  ot} 
trade-journal ;  and  that  its  average  literary  quality  is,  at  best,  no  higher  than  the  /' 
In  London,  as  in  Boston,  the  editor  of  such  an  affiair  has  a  hard  struggle  to  get  em" 
material  from  amateurs,  and  is  constantly  tempted  to  admit  their  "  love  stories,"  "  } 
other  trash,  no  matter  how  forced  or  flimsy  its  pretended  relationship  to  "  the  wh- 
afraid,  too,  that  W.  IV.  sometimes  fails  to  accredit  the  original  source  of  reprinted  . 
I  can  testify  that  my  own  contributions  to  it  have  been  carefully  "  edited  from  C> 
the  extent  of  printing  "  cycling  "  in  place  of  "  wheeling  "  which  I  wrote, — lest  th- 
of  that  word  should  help  to  advertise  the  hated  weekly.  Wheeling.    With  all  it  ^ 
ever,  I  should  say  that  W.  W.  offers  an 'American  a  smaller  proportion  of  matt- 
uninteresting  to  him,  because  of  its  merely  personal  and  local  significance,  tha 
weekly  trade-circulars ;  and  I  should  recommend  him  to  spend  $1.50  for  it  rather 
weekly.     I  do  not  think,  though,  that  W.  W.  is  worth  twice  as  much  to  him  .- 
which  he  can  secure  by  paying  75  c.  to  the  C.  T.  C. 

"  The  Cyclist  and  Wheel  World  Ann\a\  "  (Iliffes,  Jan.,  '84 ;  demy  8vo,  25^ 
by  C.  W.  Nairn  and  H.  Sturmey)  was  said  to  contain  "the  fullest  statistical  i* 
ceming  the  racing  of  the  past  season  ;  and  over  500  illust.  of  the  clubs  of  the  > 
badges."    It  was  out  of  print. in  Dec,  when  a  similar  book  was  announced  ii 
'85.    Perhaps  another  appeared  in  '86  *,  and  there  may  have  been  earlier  eds. , 
tinuation  of  the  "  Bicycl^  Annual,"  put  forth  by  the  same  Mr.  N.  from  the  Bi 
to  *79  or  later.     In  another  sense,  those  su{>posed  earlier  eds.  may  have  been  a  >^ 
W.  W.*s  Christmas  "  Icydes,"  whereof  a  second  issue  possibly  appeared  ii 
that  nearly  all  the  other  trade-circulars,  living  and  dead,  have  habitually  offci- 
nres  "  at  Christmas  time,  after  the  custom  of  English  weeklies  in  general ;  h 
vious  issue  approached  in  elaborateness  "  Our  Camp,  the  '84  Christmas  Numb- 
(8a  pp.  and  57  adv.  pp.,  30  c),  with  ornate  cover,  lithographed  in  gilt  and  c" 
page  cartoon  supplements  (portraying  racers,  legislators  and  exhibitors;  "- 
for  Jan.  **),  and  86  smaller  cuts,  drawn  by  G.  Moore.    This  seems  to  have  b'- 
for  the  copy  which  came  to  me  in  Mar.  was  marked  "  3d  ed."    The  simila- 
called  "The  Great  S— — ,  or,  A  Journey  through  Cyclonia"  (98pp.  ar 
latter  of  greenish  paper,  scattered  throughout  the  book  and  cheapening  its   > 
adv.  says  :    "The  illust  are  far  in  advance  of  anything  ever  before  atten- 
genius  of  the  authors  being  splendidly  carried  into  effect  by  the  facile  penc 
supplies  14  full  page  lithographs,  comically  depicting  all  manner  of  cycliiv 
smaller  illust.,  including  43  portraits  of  typical  radng  cyclists,  introduced 
medals  of  different  designs.    The  text  abounds  in  wit,  humor,  fun,  satit 
Irene ;  and  there  are  two  original  cycling  songs  set  to  music,  either  of  whit' 


694 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


success  has  leduced  their  number.  The  C.  T.  C,  CaaeUe  says,  loftily  (Feb^,  '86,  p.  43): 
"  There  are  papers  whidi  exist  solely  by  reason  of  the  misrepresentation  and  efibontery  of  their 
proprietors,  but  no  one  has  yet  had  the  courage  to  point  to  them  by  name.  The  reason  is 
obvious— the  mere  statement  of  the  facts  by  an  interested  party  would,  in  all  probability,  be 
deemed  libelous,  and  few  would  care  to  be  involved  in  a  law  suit  with  unscrupulous  and  penni. 
less  opponents.  We  shall,  however,  be  mudi  mistaken  if  the  present  enquiry^-supplemented 
by  revelations  which  ar«  to  follow— does  not  exhibit  a  hopelessly  rotten  state  of  affairs  in  cycling 
journalism.  Whatever  may  be  the  result,  however,  the  GastiU  will  be  a£Eected  not  a  tittle.  It 
has  a  bomafidt  distribution  at  the  present  nximent  of  over  a  1,000,  a  number  which  completely 
swamps  any  of  its  compeers,  and  we  can,  therefme,  await  the  verdict  with  equanimity."  As 
there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  21,000  members  of  C.  T.  C,  the  Cyclisfs  estinaate  would  leave 
only  9000  a  month  for  its  four  weekly  competitMs  and  W.  W.^ot  say  an  average  drcnlatioo  for 
each  of  about  500  copies  I    Perhs^ts,  though,  it  refuses  to  class  the  GaatUt  as  a  "  joumaL*' 

The  present  editors  of  WkeeUmg  announced,  in  taking  control  (Jan.  13,  *86),  that  the  pro- 
prietor had  offered  the  position  of  joint  ed.  to  eadi  of  them,  in  succession,  15  months  earlier; 
that  they  joined  the  Iliffes*  IVkeel  L^  adventure,  in  the  belief  that  it  offered  a  better  chance 
of  stability ;  that,  after  the  failure  of  thb,  their  positions  on  the  BL  N^m  were  not  altogether 
agreeable ;  that,  as  Wheeling  had  meantime  become  an  established  success,  they  accepted  its 
owner's  second  proposal  to  take  it  in  hand  (their  satirical  attadu  xepoBk  him  having  been  under- 
stood, on  both  sides,  to  be  "  mere  matters  of  business  ") ;  that  their  exodus  from  the  "Coventry 
ring  "  was  attended  with  the  utmost  good  feeling  on  the  part  of  every  one  except  Lacy  Hillier; 
and  that  they  hoped  hereafter  to  "  act  in  friendly  concert  with  the  Cyclist  and  BL  News  both." 
In  the  introduction  to  the  new  series  of  the  latter  (Oct.  9,  '85),  a  harsher  policy  had  been  pro- 
claimed, thus:  "  We  shall  consider  it  our  duty  to  the  sport  to  point  out,  paUory,  and  pelt  to  the 
best  of  our  ability  the  bad  form,  bad  English,  bad  blood,  and  bad  faith  which,  we  unhesitatit^;ly 
state,  must,  in  the  long  run,  if  allowed  to  flourish  unchecked  as  though  tacitly  aoquiesotti  in, 
make  cycling  a  sport  which  no  man  with  the  slightest  pretensions  to  the  description  of  '  gentle ' 
can  allow  his  name  to  be  connected  with.  The  abuses  ci  wheel  Ufe  shall  feel  the  lash  if  the  right 
hands  of  the  Buycling  Nemmen  have  not  lost  the  cunning  enabiiiqi;  them  to  cdri  the  quivering 
thong  with  a  hiss  in  the  all-too-deserving  flesh — a  bloodthirsty  sentence,  but  the  hopes  of  cycling 
salvation  lie  in  the  application  of  the  lancet,  and  why  should  phyndans  hesitate?"  Hie 
writer  of  these  curious  phrases  seems  not  to  have  accepted  the  peaceful  overtures  of  his  fonner 
associates,  for  they  say  of  him  {IVkeelimg,  Mar.  8,  '86,  p.  347):  " The  state  of  the  cyding  press 
just  now  is  in  many  respects  scandalous,  and  while  we  are  ready  at  any  time  to  hold  out  the 
right  hand  of  fellowship  to  our  contemporaries,  and  close  the  long-standing  war,  we  must,  of 
course,  baited  as  we  are  by  semi-authorized  touts,  and  sneered  at  as  '  sham  cydists,'  etc,  carry 
out  a  policy  of  reprisals,  though  it  b  distinctly  not  our  wish  to  do  so.  Hence  we  may  raeatioo 
that  the  editors  of  Wheeling  were  active  members  of  the  Lombard  B.  C.  when  the  great  and 
practical  Lacy  Hillier  was  breeding  cocks  and  hens  and  sdling  eggs  in  the  good  town  of 
Chichester,  where  he  was  not  thought  to  be  nearly  so  big  a  gun  as  he  has  educated  the  pubKc 
hereaway  to  ccmsider  him."  Again  (June  39,  '86,  p.  165) :  "This  embodiment  of  egr^ious 
vanity,  who,  because  he  won  championships  in  a  second-rate  year,  continually,  and  yeours  after, 
thrusts  the  fact  down  our  throats,  thought  proper  to  refer  to  the  private  affairs  of  a  set  of  men 
who  chose  to  remain  in  their  hotel  instead  of  swaggering  about  Weston  and  playing  the  che^ 
showman.  Because  a  few  men  chose  to  play  cards  with  their  ovm  money  in  their  own  apart- 
ments, and  to  bet  among  themselves  about  the  results  of  the  radng,  Sir  Pedtsniff,  who 
part  of  his  living  on  the  Stock  Exchange  where  the  widow  and  the  orphan  fall  victiais  t» 
'  bull '  and  the  '  bear,'  publicly  raises  his  hands,  and  thanks  high  heaven  thaLt  be  is : 
men  are."  Still  further  (July  14,  '86 ;  p.  a  10) :  "  We,  on  this  paper,  do  not,  we 
much.  We  were  n't  champions  in  '8t,  and  we  're  only  ordinary  peoi^e  in  '86. 
if  other  people  please  themselves  as  to  how  they  qiend  their  leisure  time  and 
at  the  same  time  we  don't  run  out  a  platform  from  the  window  of  a  stodcl 
nounce  gambling,  nor  do  we  jmnt  without  protest  advertisemeiits  which 


UTERA  TURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  695 

le.  We  Ian  that  id  the  praclicat,  the  pure,  and  the  PccluniflSaii."  A  week 
\tlliMg  reprinttd  Ihe  following  coinmentarjr  on  Ihia  son  of  tslk,  from  a  JelUr 
Utr:  "  For  acrinioiiy  and  bU»rn«a,  coramctid  me  to  cydiBl.  The  specul 
■sismt.  iheir  inlsreits  is  probably  the  smantti  and  mnl  personal  manipulation 


>ili«1yli, 


Ihem  out  of  iheii  own  owutlu,  ial*re«iiigly  eccentric  individaali"  Similar  wa»  the  co 
lion  uttensl  in  C.  T.  C.  GurOi  <Mar., '»),  by  J.  R.  Hogg,  who  wuched  the  rivali  of  the 
■■  Coventry  ring  "  ind  the  "  fftw/nvciew  "  at  the  H.  C.  U.  meeting,  where  he  attempted  lo 
hare  the  amateur  dcfidtkn aboliihed  :   "The  ttue o{ amalsuriim may  be  bad;  bulthesule  of 

make  a  happy  hit  in  favoring  Anuria  (lee  p.  S17)i  the  Bi.  Nraa  goes  to  the  other  extreme  and 
cotirli  lory  popularity  by  apeiking  with  hoKilily  and  ridicule  of  this  country.  At  all  the  other 
editors  have  subscribed  for  this  book  of  mine,  aitd  have  commended  the  "  intertiational "  quality 
oi  it,  and  as  WknliHg  has  lalien  the  lead  in  drumming  up  English  subscribers  for  nw,  the  Bi. 
iVfuv  has  held  aloof  with  disdain,  flneering  at  the  scheme  as  a  catchpenny  trick  of  a  tiresonte 
Yankee  adventurer,  who  probably  carries  dynamite  in  his  pockets,  if  the  truth  could  be  known. 
As  iVkttliKg  likes  10  pose  for  a  *'  friend  of  democracy  and  equal  rights/'  so  It  likes  to  taunt  the 
BL  M™  a.  a  "  toady  10  the  Eatabliahed  Chuicb  and  the  aristocracy."  This  f^cl  {like  the 
ouious  interest  which  C.  T.  C.  olBcen  show  in  getting  a  few  pence  knocked  off  [nun  country 
tavern  tnlh)  seems  to  me  a  signiGcant  token  that  the  "  heavy  swells  "  of  England  have  thus  far 
given  very  little  recognitioD  to  cycling.  Americaru  of  that  stripe  have  certainly  had  nothing  lo 
do  with  it  yel,  though  they  are  very  quick  to  imilale  (he  fashions  of  (heir  London  originafs. 
What  1  have  said  on  p.  446  « itf.,  about  the  phenomenal  ohtrunvenesa  of  the  struggle  lo  "  gel 
on  "  in  England,  could  have  no  more  perfect  illnslraiion  than  is  given  by  its  cycling  joumiillsm. 
"  The  official  organ  of  the  Irish  CyclisB'  Association  "  is  ihe  Iridt  Cfclal  amd  AlMltlt, 
"  a  fonnighlly  record  of  the  sport  and  trade  of  bicycling  and  Iricycling,  edited  in  Dublin  and  Ihe 
pmrinces."  ll  is  pub.  on  allemair  Wednesdays  by  J.  G.  H«lgins,  o(  Tralee  (4  c.  or  $1.]  j), 
and  dates  from  May  id,  '3j.  The  second  half  of  the  lille  was  assumed  later  Ihan  the  4lh  nutiu 
tier,  which  la  the  only  specimen  that  fjas  reached  me,  and  which  consists  of  i£  pp.,  S  try  ii  in., 
half  given  10  adv.  Its  editor's  address  is  to  Lower  SackviUe  St.,  Dublin;  and  I  learn  from 
U'Jurlmg'i  congratulatory  remark  about  Ihe  "siipenny  Chrislmas  number"  Ihat  his  name  is 
R.J,  McCredy  The  friM  C^rV*" ■<'*'''« /«'»'*i'(begun  at  Dublin  in  NoT.,'lts)f  presume 
is  a  pennr  weekly ;  and  f  find  in  Witrlair  "t  Aug.  4.  'U.  an  allusion  lo  IriiA  C^nig  6f 
AMilk  trim,  though  whether  this  is  an  old  or  new  rival  10  the  /rni-iu/,  or  a  successor  of  il, 
I  do  nol  know.  Older  Ihan  either  of  these  is  Sfrrt  (>  c),  pub.  Saturdays,  at  8)  Middle  Abbey 
at.,  Dublin.  The  ScaUUk  Umfirt  tr  Cydifig  l^rmrf  U  d,  pub.  Wednesdays  by  Hay, 
Mitbel  ft  Co.,  at  Slockwell  si.,  Glasgow,  calls  iiself  "  Ihe  best  adv.  medium  in  Scolland  for  the 

y«ir>M/ gives  them  much  less  prominence.  S^srlt  *■  Pla^  (begun  Feb., "»,  «  im  Edmund 
St.,  Birmingham)  wsi  welcomed  by  iVIutliHg  as  far  superior  to  Ihe  long-named  Star  which 
made  a  vain  appeal  to  the  cyders  of  that  town,  some  years  ago.  /itnitraled  Sforts  is  adv.  as 
"  the  largest  and  cheapest  illusl.  sporting  monthly  "  (i  e.),  being  a  ton  of  elaboiale  circular  [or 
proclaiming  Ihe  goods  of  Goy.  II  Leadeohall  si  ,  London  ;  and  Ihe  numerous  sponiog  weeklies 

raids,  of  Mel- 
had  previously 


696 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


The  "  3i**  waa  cat  from  its  title,  however,  Aag.  16,  '83,  when  a  new  series  was  begiw  (16  pp.), 
and  a  transfer  of  ownership  made  from  "  the  A.  B.  N.  Co."  to  W.  H.  Lewis,  whose  name  has 
ever  since  stood  at  the  head  as  editor.  His  predecessor  was  not  announced,  but  was  generallj 
supposed  to  be  U.C.  Bagot,  local  agent  for  the  Coventry  firm  of  Singer  &  Ca  The  heading  says : 
"An  impartial  organ  of  the  sport,  the  pastime  and  the  trade ;  subscribed  to  by  cyclists  through- 
out the  Australian  colonies,  and  circulating  largely  in  all  up<ountry  towns  (rf  any  size ;  dis- 
tributed gratis  to  the  principal  libraries,  reading-rooms,  hotels,  etc,  throughout  the  colonies." 
The  price  is  6  c  a  copy  or  lz.87  a  year  to  any  part  of  Victoria ;  %a.  a  year  elsewhere.  The  head- 
ing exhibits  three  groups  of  cyclers,  and  is  followed  by  adv.,  to  which  5  or  6  later  pp.  are  ghren 
(8x11  in.),  the  rates  per  year,  9  mos.,  6  mos.  and  3  mos.  being  as  follows  :  $250 ;  $200,  $150  and 
$90;  \  p.  for  similar  periods  :  I150,  #125,  $90  and  ^50;  \  p.  for  similar  periods;  ^79,  $65,  $47 
and  $25.  H.  R.  Reynolds's  London  tract  on  "  Road  Rei>airs  "  (4  pp.,  85th  thousand),  with  a 
>  special  heading  "  To  Victorian  Rate-payers,"  was  circulated  as  a  supplement  to  the  AVws  of 
Feb.  13,  '86,— its  editor  having  become  a  candidate  for  the  vacancy  in  the  Melbourne  City 
Council, — and  the  issue  of  May  2a  contained  a  call  fn»n  the  "  cyclists'  committee,  formed  to 
improve  the  opportunity  to  make  a  bid  for  themselves,  and  cause  their  influence  to  be  felt  in  be- 
half of  better  highways,"  saying :  "  Roll  up  and  support  Lewis,  the  proper  repair  of  the  roads 
and  the  progress  of  the  wheel."  Whatever  the  result  may  have  been,  this  attempt  at  really 
practical  politics  seems  significant  and  suggestive.  The  Ntun  is  printed  by  C.  Troedel  &  Co., 
and  its  office  is  at  47  Queen  st.  The  MeUHmnu  BuUtttHy  the  Australasian,  and  the  S^crtsmam 
each  have  a  weekly  department  of  cycling, — "  Ollapod  "  (T.  A.  Edwards)  having  contributed 
2  or  3  columns  of  matter  to  each  issue  of  the  former  since  the  autumn  of  '82.  "  The  Australian 
Cyclists'  Annual,"  by  J.  P.  Russell  (Melbourne,  Dec.,  '83  ;  60  pp.,  25  c.)  was  mildly  welcomed, 
as  "  the  pioneer  book  from  that  region,  of  use  and  interest  to  beginners  "  by  Cyclist,  June  11, 
'84 ;  but  a  local  writer  calls  it  "  too  English ;  for  it  lacks  to  a  distressing  extent  in  information 
pertaining  to  the  wheel  in  Australia."  Australian  Sports  and  Pastimes,  ''edited  by  H.  Stewart 
Bale,  manager  of  the  Melbourne  Sports  Depot,"  appeared  in  Dec,  '84,  but  was  a  mere  give- 
away adv.  circular,  which  never  attained  the  dignity  of  a  second  issue.  "  Overland  to  Sydney 
on  Cycles;  by  M.  Thomfeldt;  printed  at  the  News  &*  Chronicle  office.  Main  St.,  Stawell,'* 
is  tlie  heading  attached  to  a  half-dozen  single  sheets,  varying  in  size  and  undated,  whidi  came 
to  me  by  Australian  mail  of  Aug.  16,  '86,  and  which  were  printed,  on  one  side  only,  from  columns 
of  type  used  in  six  successive  issues  of  that  paper.  The  author,  aged  about  50,  rode  a  tri.,  and 
his  comrade  (C.  H.  Lyne,  of  Ararat),  a  bi.;  and  the  time  of  their  tour  was  Mar.  8  to  14,  '86. 
Though  longer  rides  have  been  taken  in  Australia,  I  think  no  other  has  been  reported  at  such 
length,  for  the  story  would  make  a  good  sized  pamphlet,  if  recast  in  that  form.  "  Rules  and 
Regulations  of  the  Melbourne  B.  C."  ('83,  16  pp.  neatly  printed  and  leather  bound)  gives  lists 
of  officers  and  members,  and  also  touring  records  of  the  latter  and  100  m.  runs.  New  South 
Wales  was  briefly  represented  in  the  field  of  cycling  journalism  by  7  issues  of  the  Austraiimn 
Cyclist,  on  alternate  Fridays  from  May  16  to  Aug.  8,  '85  (16  to  24  pp.,  incl.  6  to  13  adv.  pp. ; 
4  c),  ed.  by  J.  Copland  and  pub.  by  the  proprietor,  P.  Gomall,  at  the  Times  office,  cor.  Redfera 
and  Botany  sts.,  Redfem  (a  suburb  of  Sydney,  the  capital).  New  Zealand's  only  approach  to 
the  field  is  the  N.  Z.  Referee,  *'  a  journal  of  sport,  music  and  the  drama  "  (12  pp.,  6  c),  whidi 
has  been  pub.  at  Christchurch,  on  Fridays,  since  May,  '84,  with  a  regular  column  for  cycling. 
Africa's  sole  contribution  to  my  chapter  takes  the  shape  of  this  extract  from  IVheelinf  (Nov. 
8,  '85) :  "  I  have  been  reading  in  a  Cape  Town  paper  a  report  of  a  ride  by  two  merobera  of  the 
Cape  Town  B.  C,  from  their  city  to  Port  Elizabeth.  They  found  poor  roads  but  scenety 
magnificent  beyond  description.  They  kept  a  diary  and  intend  publishing  a  detailed  narrative 
in  book  form.  This  will  follow  somewhat  the  lines  of  Charles  Hubbard's  interesting  account 
of  a  ride  over  the  same  route."    [The  A .  C.  News  ceased  pub.  Sept.  25,'86.    See  pp.  $58,  6sa.] 

Continental  Publications. 

Of  all  the  cycling  prints  outside  the  English  language,  the  most  important  by  far  is  the  Rod- 
fahrer  (begun  July,  '81;    16  to  20  pp.  and  12  to  16  adv.  pp.,  8  by  10^  in.,  semi-monthly,  $t). 


698 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


number  which  reached  me  in  Mar.,  *8s,  was  the  6th  of  Vol.  I.,  CyMisia  doubtless  began  in 
Oct.,  '84;  and  it  is  so  neatly  printed  (la  pp.,  9  by  12  in.)  that  I  wish  it  a  very  long  life. 

France,  the  true  native  land  of  cycling,  now  boasts  of  at  least  six  towns  where  journals  of 
the  sport  are  regularly  issued ;  and  though  its  literature  is  less  voliuninous  than  England's,  the 
chronology  of  it  is  more  extensive, — representing  almoit  every  one  of  the  19  years,  '68  to  '86. 
**  Le  V^locipMe,"  pub.  at  Marseilles  in  '68,  seems  to  have  been  the  primary  pamphlet  of  all, 
and  it  described  the  mechanics  of  the  bone-shaker.  Its  author  was  A.  Favre,  of  Voiron 
(Is&re) ;  and  he  issued,  at  Grenoble,  from  Jan.  to  June,  '69,  a  monthly  of  the  same  name,  the 
yilocipide,  the  first  journal  of  its  sort  in  the  world.  (I  say  this  in  the  belief  that  the  8  p. 
monthly,  Vehcipedist^  pub.  in  N.  Y.  by  Pickering  &  Davis,  with  W.  Chester  King  as  ed.,  did 
not  come  out  until  Feb.,  though  perhaps  one  of  its  two  numbers  was  dated  Jan.)  At  Grenoble, 
also,  in  '69,  A.  Berruyer  issued  "  Manuel  du  Veloceman,"  a  60  c.  pamphlet,  pninted  by  F. 
Allier,  8  Grand  st.  At  Paris,  the  Vilocipide  lihtstrt  put  forth  162  numbent  during  the  troubloiis 
years,  '69,  '70,  '71  and  '72  {La  ViUsst  being  substituted  as  a  title  from  No.  132  to  No.  138). 
Its  editor  was  L.  G.  Jacques,  who  also  produced  ('69;  20  c.)  "Manuel  du  V^locipMe,"  a 
pamphlet  of  "  etudes  fantaisistes  sur  le  bicycle,"  illust.  by  £.  Benassit.  This  was  pub.  at  the 
office  of  the  Petit  Journal,  as  were  also  the  three  annual  issues,  "  Almanach  des  V^locipMes," 
for  '69,  and  "  Almanach  du  V^locipMe  "  for  '70  and  '71, — the  latter  being  catalogued  as  "  very 
rare."  I  presume  Mr.  Jacques  may  have  edited  the  almanacs,  for  he  blossomed  out  again  in 
'72  as  author  of  "  Le  Tour  du  Monde  en  V^locip^de  "  (2  vols.,  illust.  by  F.  Regamey,  $1.20); 
anticipating  thus,  in  fiction,  the  actual  "  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle  "  by  Thomas  Stevens. 
In  '72,  also,  was  pub.  at  Lyons,  a  little  pamphlet  by  Marchegay :  "  Essai  th^orique  et  pwatiqoe 
sur  le  v^hicule  Bicycle."  At  Paris,  in  '69,  appeared  "  Hygiine  du  V^lodpMe,"  by  M.  D.  Pelleo- 
contre,  edited  by  Richard,  ix  Mazarine  st. ;  and  "  Report  of  the  Sod^t^  Pratique  du  V^lodpMe 
for  '69  "  ;  and  in  '78,  "  Tricycle  et  V^lodpMe  it  vapeur,"  by  L.  G.  Perreaux,  8  Jean-Baut  st 

In  '74,  there  were  pub.  at  Paris  33  weekly  numbers  of  the  Vitocipidt,  edited  by  B.  Bonanri, 
whidi  was  the  third  French  journal  of  that  name ;  and  it  was  apparently  the  only  one  known  in 
France  during  the  interval  between  the  death  of  its  "  lUustri  "  namesake  in  '72,  and  the  es- 
tablishment, in  '80,  of  the  Sport  Vilocipidique  (Paris  :  iii  Villiers  av. ;  12  pp.,  weekly,  #3.40), 
managed  by  Henri  Pagis,  and  named  in  '85  as  "  the  official  organ  of  the  Union  V^locip^dique 
de  France."  Next  to  it  in  age  is  the  Revue  Vilocipidiqtte,  which  was  mentioned  in  *83,  as 
pub.  in  Paris,  three  times  a  month,  at  114  boulevard  National  i  Clichy  (R.  Rigoley,  manager; 
E.  Forestier,  ed.  in  chief;  $1),  and  in  '84,  as  pub.  at  Rouen,  "  semi-monthly,  but  weekly  during 
the  riding  season," — the  ed.  retaining  the  same  address  in  Paris,  as  before.  I  have  received 
Nos.  90  to  97,  dated  Mar.  5  to  Apr.  23,  '85 ;  and  the  inscription  on  them  is  :  '*  Fourth  year; 
pub.  every  Thursday,  at  $2,  or  5  c.  a  copy;  independent  organ  of  French  and  foreign  cydii^ 
clubs;  F.  Gebert,  manager  and  publisher,  at  Rouen."  The  size  is  11  by  15  in.,  and  the  pp. 
vary  from  8  to  xo, — ^the  first  and  the  last  four  being  given  to  adv.,  of  gigantic  handbill  type.  Its 
appearance  is  inferior  to  that  of  any  cycling  journal  in  my  collection,  though  I  do  not  kikow 
whether  the  other  French  papers  attempt  a  more  elegant  typography.  I  am  not  familiar  enough 
with  the  language  to  say  anything  of  its  literary  quality ;  but  I  see  that  much  space  is  given  to 
tours,  inventions  and  practical  information,  as  well  as  to  race-reports,  and  I  infer  that  gossip 
and  short  paragraphs  may  be  made  more  prominent  by  its  rivals.  Lithographic  supplemcate, 
called  "  Pantheon  V^locip^dique,"  to  its  issues  of  Mar.  19  and  Apr.  a  give  portraits  of  Cbaa. 
Garrard  (b.  Nov.  12,  '55,  at  London),  racer  and  dealer,  and  of  Adrian  De  Baroncelli  (b.  i^v. 
5,  '52,  at  Paris),  tourist,  author  and  publisher,  of  whom  I  shall  speak  later.  Its  isstte  of  Jaa. 
22,  '85,  and  many  following  dates  contained:  "Thtforie  du  V^locipMe,  by  J.  Maeqaam 
Rankine,  Prof,  in  the  Univ.  of  Glasgow;  translation  ojf  M.  J.  Viollet;  reviewed  by  tiha  AH^ 
Moigno."  This  is  a  learned  treatise,  with  many  mathematical  formulz ;  and  De  BaroMtV 
('84),  "  it  was  issued  as  a  pamphlet,  at  Paris,  in  '70."  If  this  date  b  not  a  misprint,  Ik* 
pearance  of  the  matter  as  a  serial,  X5  years  later,  speaks  well  for  its  intrinsic  merHi  HI 
chanical  essay  on  the  two-wheeler.  De  B.  also  mentions  ('83)  the  Vilocipidie  tUmshig^  m 
from  the  Revue  office,  at  $1  a  year ;  but  I  think  it  was  short  Hved.    The  same 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  699 

in  '84,  **  Almanach  lUustr^  de  la  V^Iocip^die  pour  '84  "  ;  and  a  similar  one,  a  year  later,  for 
'85,  the  price  of  each  being  30  c.  I  presume  the  '86  issue  appeared  duly,  and  that  a  fourth  is  in 
preparation  for  '87. 

I  have  received  from  the  author  (who  publishes  the  same  at  18  Roqu^pine  St.,  Paris), 
"  Annuaire  de  la  V^lodp^e  Pratique,"  by  A.  De  BaftmceUi,  Consul  of  C.  T.  C. ;  in  a  vols., 
4^  by  7  in.,  bound  in  stiff  paper  and  weighing  7  os.  each.  The  "  First  Year,  1883-4  "  (149  pp., 
SO  c),  appeared  early  in  '83  ;  the  "  Second  Year,  x884>5  "  (167  pp.,  55  c),  early  in  '84,  and  each 
have  30  adv.  pp.  of  blue  paper.  The  later  book  has  for  a  chief  title  "  Guide  des  Environs  de 
Paris,"  and  gives  pp.  37-133  to  40  tabulated  "  routes  for  wheelmen;" — the  introductory  pp.  be- 
ing devoted  to  general  information  about  roads,  maps,  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  charges,  distan^s,  abbrevia- 
tions and  the  like.  Statistics  of  French  and  foreign  clubs  cover  pp.  133-166 ;  and  the  secretaries 
thereof  are  urged  to  send  corrected  lists  of  officers  to  the  author,  annually,  not  later  than  Feb.  i. 
The  '83  book  has  a  more  varied  contents :  *'  practical  information  and  advice  for  tourists  " 
covering  its  first  57  pp. ;  then  "  routes  "  to  p.  84 ;  French  club-lists  to  p.  105 ;  facts  about  for- 
eign clubs  to  p.  118 ;  "  bibliography,  French  and  foreign,"  top.  130,  and  racing  records  to  p.  149. 
Much  of  the  information  in  the  first  part  of  this  '83  book  was  republished,  two  years  later,  re- 
vised and  corrected,  as  a  separate  pamphlet  (Jan.,  '85;  4a  pp.,  i  oz.,  no  adv.,  16  c),  "  La 
V^Iocipddie  Pratique  ";  and  the  author  mentions  the  existence  of  another  one  of  the  same  name, 
by  V.  L^er  (presumably  pub.  in  Paris  before  '84) ;  also  "  Le  Guide  en  France,"  for  the  use 
of  cyclers,  as  being  "  in  preparation  "  by  himself.  The  original  title  announced  for  this,  when 
first  planned  in  '83,  was  "  Vade  Mecum  du  Touriste  Vtfloceman."  I  have  not  heard  of  the 
book's  appearance,  but  I  judge  from  the  works  before  me  that  De  BaroncelK  is  by  all  odds  the 
most  painstaking  and  "  practical "  writer  who  has  yet  attempted  to  popularize  road-riding  in 
France ;  and  I  should  like  to  urge  all  Americans  who  may  intend  to  wheel  there,  that  they  bay 
his  books  and  study  them  in  advance.  No  matter  how  great  their  ignorance  of  the  language, 
they  cannot  fail  to  dig  out  information  enough  for  doubly  repaying  the  slight  investment. 

I  am  indebted  to  this  fellow-compiler  for  most  of  the  foregoing  facts  about  the  trade-litera- 
ture of  France,  and  to  "  Bibliopil  "  {^Velocipetbpart^  Berlin,  Mar.  25,  '85,  p.  11)  for  a  list  of  its 
half-dozen  existing  trade- journals.  Besides  these,  De  B.  catalogues  the  Revue  des  Sports  (Paris : 
28  Faubourg  Montmartre ;  weekly,  $2.40 ;  F.  Pagnioud,  manager),  though  I  suppose  that  cy- 
cling is  only  one  feature  of  it ;  and  the  VSloce^  begun  as  a  monthly,  Aug.  i,  '82,  at  Pau  (Basses* 
Pyr^n^es),  whose  manager,  Tonnet,  of  Ecoles  PL,  never  issued  No.  2.  Pau,  however,  soon  be- 
camie  the  imblication-place  of  the  Vtlo  PyrhUen  (18  Cultivateurs  St.,  8  pp.,  15th  of  each  month, 
80  c),  at  end  of  '83  or  beginning  of  '84,  and  I  suppose  it  is  still  issued  there.  Another  monthly, 
the  Vilocemeui^  "  illnst.  mag.  of  the  sport  and  trade,"  was  begun  at  Montpellier  (18  National 
St.,  12  pp.,  $1.20),  in  Jan.,  '85,  "  upwn  the  same  lines  as  Wheelings  of  London  " ;  and  it  suc- 
ceeded so  well  as  to  change  to  a  semi-monthly  on  June  15, — retaining  the  same  sub.  price,  but 
reducing  that  of  single  copies  from  10  c.  to  5  c.  Its  editor  is  Herbert  O.  Duncan  (b.  Nov.,  '62, 
at  London),  whose  portrait  appeared  in  the  Vehcipedsporty  already  quoted,  with  3  pp.  of  biog- 
raphy ;  and  it  again  appears,  combined  with  heads  of  his  fellow-racers,  De  Civry  and  Dubois, 
as  a  supplement  to  the  Viloceman  itself,  Aug.  i,  '86,— all  three  likenesses  being  called  "very 
excellent "  by  iVheeling.  Mr.  Duncan  is  correspondent  of  several  English  and  American 
sporting  sheets.  His  partner,  in  founding  the  VHoceman^  was  L.  Suberbie.  A  weekly,  the 
yiloce-Spori,  was  begun  at  Bordeaux,  Mar.  5,  '85  ;  was  quoted  from,  two  months  later,  and  I 
presume  still  flourishes.  At  Le  Mans  (Sarthe),  the  "  Legion  Vtflocip^dique  "—whose  rooms 
are  at  31  Republic  PI.,  and  whose  annual  fee  is  50  c— sends  a  monthly  organ,  the  VilOf  free  to 
each  member.  Two  weeklies  which  the  Revue  "recommends  to  cyclers"  are  the  Spcri  du 
^/V/i  (Bordeaux,  2  Cours  de  (jouigues,  $2),  and  the  TVinnvr  (Paris,  12  St.  George  St.,  $x).  A 
sketch  of  French  cycling,  from  '67  to  '74,  was  contributed  by  P.  De  VillerB  to  the  Wheelman  of 
Jan.  and  Aug.,  '83  (pp.  307,  333);  and  an  official  road-book  for  the  Union  V^lodpMiqne  de 
France  was  mentioned  by  the  yVheel^  of  Mar.  5,  '86,  as  in  preparation  by  Mr.  Jacquot. 

The  Vilocipidie  Beige  issued  21  semi-monthly  numbers,  in  '81-2,  at  Brussels;  and  was  fol- 
lowed, in  Nov.,  '8a,  by  a  similar  sheet,  the  Vilaee  Beige  (45  Brouck^re  PI.,  $1.30),  whose  title 


698         T^^  THOUSAND  MI 

0„.,  'U;  »4  «  «  "^  land  ol  Cding. 

'*™"'°®'°il  "^b  at  Mar«m«  " 

,„d  it  d«o.W  *t.'°"      „„bte, ! 
( Istee) ;  and  he  issued,  at  wu       > 

also.in'69.  A-Berruyerissuu 
AUiUs  Grand  St.  M  Pans,' 
years,  'eg.  '70. '?»  a«d  '7^  (/- 

IIS  editor  was  U  G.  Jacc, 

pamphlet  of  "  etudes  f  aru.^ 

office  of  the /'^^i^A'"''^' 

for  »69,  and  "  Alma«acl. 

rare."    I  presume  Mr 

»72  as  author  of  *'  ^*^ 
anticipating  thus,  ii»  ' 

In '72.  a^sO' ^^  ^  ' 
surlevihiculeBk 

contre,  edited  by 
for '69";  and  - 

ln'74,  tlv 
whi(^  was  til- 
France  duri' 
tablishmei.' 
managed  ^ 
de  FraiH 
pub.  in    i 
E.  For 
the  rii' 


.  -•    "^ — 


~«^*-  • 


-r   >.^ 


pul) 

Clul 

Vii'  ■ 

aj 
w ' 


_    1 


u  *^ 


1  •**>•» 


-    ^  •    » 

b       ceris,.  '""^  • 


v.*»    o«w  iw 


'D  THE  NEXT.  703 

..leuoR  it.  my  uriu  of  MiiiMial  „ml. 

ipril,  when  alt  Ihne  remou  clemeats  and 

ijn  of  the  book,  my  riding  record  laded 

\  I  lu>e  eiplaincd  in  the  prefice  oi  my 

«.  of -heeling. 

:«lopiB.olh= 
™  the  .9lh.  io 


«ii™ln.ighl 

;d  the  rif  bt  to 
I  innitnl  thit 


atiK  lo  IM  of 
robibly  nnu 


700  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

was  changed  Xojcmmdlde*  Shorts,  on  the  loth  number.  Its  adv.  of  '84  named  E.  De  Gline  as 
ed.,  with  office  at  38  Boul.  du  Jardin  Botanique.  Perhaps  it  still  flourishes ;  and  so,  1  presume, 
does  the  CyclisU  Btlg*^  of  Louvain  (18  Diest  St.,  semi-monthly,  ^1.30),  which  b^;an  in  Jan., 
'85,  as  "  official  oi^gan  of  the  FM^ration  V^locipMique  Beige."  Three  Italian  towns  belong 
on  my  list ;  for,  in  '83,  the  V^loce-Qubdu  Rome  issued  an  official  organ,  RtviOadegU  SparU 
(135  via  S.  Maria  Maggiore ;  80  c)  ;  and,  at  Leghorn,  Sport  was  pub.  by  R.  Basilone,  of  s 
Scali  Manzino;  while  Turin  nowbdastsof  the  RevisUr  Velociptdittica  (10  Corso  S.  Martino, 
illust.  semi-monthly,  ^2),  which  finished  its  first  year  as  a  $1  monthly,  not  later  than  June,  '84, 
when  its  manager  was  V.  >Fenoglio,  and  its  chief  editor  C.  Toscani,  who,  I  suppose,  are  still  in 
control,  and  still  remain,  as  then,  the  only  cycling  journalists  in  Italy.  "  Statuto  della  Sodeta 
Ciclisti  Itiliani,"  issued  by  the  Turin  Wheel  Club,  and  exhibiting  in  21  articles  the  objects,  con- 
stitution and  advantages  thereof,  was  praised  by  IVhetling  (Jan*  6,  '8s),  as  a  "  compact  little 
thumb-book,  of  an  excellence  without  parallel  in  England  among  wheel-dub  epitomes.'*  A 
friend  of  mine  who  visited  Christiania,  Norway,  in  May, '84,  found  a  cycling  journal  issued  there, 
but  failed  to  secure  for  me  a  specimen,  or  even  its  name.  The  Swedish  wheelmen  also  have 
such  a  paper,  Tidningfor  Idrott^  pub.  in  Stockholm,  at  13  Storkyrkobrinken,  which  the  IVked 
of  Jan.  8,  '86,  noted  as  just  begun ;  and  I  am  told  that  the  Spaniards  support  the  Velocipede, 
at  Madrid.  As  for  the  Dutch,  I  have  no  later  information  than  the  following,  which  was  writ- 
ten for  me  May  10,  '84,  by  C.  H.  Bingham,  an  English  rendent  of  Utrecht,  who  is  not  only 
chief  consul  for  Holland  of  the  C.  T.  C,  but  also  president  of  the  Nederlandsche  Velodpedi»> 
tenbund  (Dutch  Cyclers'  Union,  founded  July  x,  '83) :  "  The  only  cycling  print  in  Holland  b 
the  Maam&ladf  a  small  monthly  circular  of  official  notices,  which  began  in  April.  We  have, 
however,  pub.  a  map  of  the  country,  for  tourists'  use ;  and  shall  also  pub.,  before  this  month 
closes,  an  official  road-guide,  containing  descriptions  of  the  surface  of  all  our  chief  roads,  with 
distances,  names  of  hotels,  smiths  and  caf^s,  and  other  information.  This  will  be,  I  believe, 
the  first  official  and  complete  route-book  pub.  in  any  country/^'  (The  "  C.  W.  A.  Guide  "  was 
really  the  first,  having  appeared  before  these  words  were  written.  See  p.  330.)  "  Frankfort-on- 
Main  is  about  to  issue  a  new  paper,  the  Steel  IVheel,'^  says  the  C.  T.  C.  GaaetU  of  Oct.,  '8& 

General  Guides. 

Under  this  title,  I  hoped  to  specify  many  maps,  hand-books,  local  histories  and  topograph- 
ical publications  which  seem  specially  worth  the  attention  of  touring  wheelmen,  though  designed 
for  explorere  in  general ;  but  as  only  a  half-page  remains  to  me,  my  list  must  be  Inief.  First, 
for  its  newness,  I  name  "  The  Book  of  Berkshire  :  describing  and  illustrating  its  hills  and 
homes,"  by  Clark  W.  Bryan  (Great  Barrington,  Ms.' :  C.  W.  B.  &  Co.,  May,  '86 ;  368  pp.  and 
30  adv.  pp. ;  40  illust. ;  50  c.  in  paper  covers,  75  c  in  leatherette),  which  ought  to  be  in  the 
hands  of  every  cycler  proposing  to  visit  that  favorite  touring-ground.  It  is  accompanied  by  the 
excellent  road-map  of  the  county,  and  of  northern  Ct.,  which  I  have  described  on  p.  iia; 
and  it  gives  the  mileage  of  no  less  than  500  drives,  starting  from  Pittsfield,  Lenox,  Sto^bri^ge, 
Great  Barrington,  Sheffield,  South  Egreroont,  Adams,  North  Adams,  Williamstown,  'Salisbury, 
Canaan  and  Norfolk.  Early  June  and  late  Sept.  are  named  as  the  best  times  for  seeing  the 
beauties  of  Berkshire.  In  nearly  every  public  library  may  be  found,  **  Picturesque  America;  or, 
the  Land  we  Live  In  ;  a  delineation  by  pen  and  pencil  of  the  mountains,  rivers,  lakes,  forests, 
water-falls,  shores,  caftons,  valleys,  cities,  and  other  picturesque  features  of  our  country ;  with 
illustrations  on  steel  and  wood,  by  eminent  American  artists ;  edited  by  W.  C.  Bryant " 
(N.  Y.  :  Appletons;  4to,  I.,  '72,  pp.  568;  II.,  '74,  pp.  576).  There  are  some  60  chapters  in  this 
great  work,  supplied  by  24  contributors,  though  its  projector  and  real  editor,  O.  B.  Bnnce,  sap- 
plies  10.  B.  J.  Lossing's  "  Field  Book  of  the  American  Revolution  "  (N.  Y  :  Harpers,  9to, 
V>  PP'  773f  ^')t  sind  "  Field  Book  of  the  War  of  1812  "  ('68,  pp.  1084),  both  pninndj  ilhM- 
trated,  are  full  of  local  lore  for  the  tourist.  The  author  drove  his  horse  from  N.  Y.  to  S.  C. 
1400  m.,  and  traveled  1400  m.  further  (Nov.  22,  '48,  to  Feb.  4,  '49),  in  visiting  the  battle-fields 
ol  1777-81 ;  and  he  also  traveled  10,000  m.  in  collecting  materials  for  his  book  of  i8ia. 


XXXVIII. 

THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT. 

"  But  courage  still !  Without  return  or  swerving,  across  the  globe's  hug^  shadow  keep  the  track. 
Till,  unperceived,  the  slow  meridian's  curving,  that  leads  thee  onward,  yet  shall  lead  thee  back, 
To  stand  again  with  daybreak  on  the  mountains,  and,  where  the  paths  of  night  and  morning  meet, 
To  drink  once  more  of  youth's  forgotten  fountains,  when  thou  hast  put  the  world  between  thy 
feet."— 7"-**  Thankless  Muse,  by  H,  A.  Beers. 

**  Money  "  being  a  universal  language,  whose  eloquence  is  appreciated 
even  by  the  simplest  and  whose  significance  cannot  be  questioned  even  by  the 
most  sophistical,  I  aim  to  have  the  success  of  this  book  announced  in  golden 
letters  large  enough  to  be  read  by  everybody.  I  argue  that  such  sort  of  suc- 
cess must  have  a  far  more  impressive  effect  upon  the  general  public,  in 
demonstrating  the  power  and  permanence  of  cycling,  than  any  mere  "  literary  " 
success  could  have ;  and  I  therefore,  as  a  means  of  persuading  my  3000  copart- 
ners to  help  me  achieve  it,  feel  bound  to  confide  to  them  the  inmost  history 
of  the  scheme,  the  precise  methods  which  seem  most  effective  for  working  it 
out,  and  the  reasons  why  I  hope  for  their  assistance.  If  I  am  wrong  in  assum- 
ing that  six-sevenths  of  my  subscribers  will  actively  recognize  the  "  copartner- 
ship," I  shall  be  quite  satisfied  to  address  a  smaller  proportion  of  them.  All 
I  insist  upon  is  that,  as  they  have  given  a  practical  pledge  of  their  friendly 
curiosity  in  me  whose  sincerity  cannot  be  gainsaid,  I  have  a  right  to  suppose 
that  at  least  a  majority  of  them  may  be  glad  to  read  my  personal  story ;  and  a 
right  to  remind  the  minority — as  well  as  later  purchasers  of  the  book — who 
may  care  nothing  for  such  details,  that  they  should  not  censure  the  others  for 
having  an  interest  in  them,  nor  me  for  trying  to  make  money  by  catering  to 
that  interest.  The  wisdom  of  such  attempt  may  be  criticised,  and  the  failure 
of  it,  if  failure  comes,  may  make  it  a  fair  mark  for  ridicule ;  but  each  reader 
is  meanwhile  bound  to  recognize  that  it  is  inspired  by  "  business  "  rather  than 
by  vanity,  and  that  his  own  perusal  of  these  pages  is  in  no  sense  compulsory. 


Unique  pecuniary 
ideal. 


After  all  the  materials  for  the  previous  chapter  had  been  laboriously 
collected,  the  mere  act  of  writing  it  occupied  me  from  June  9  to  Aug.  a8 
(275  hours'  solid  work,  divided  between  52  days ;  besides  16  h.  of  proof- 
reading) ;  and  I  mention  its  extraordinary  cost  in  order  to  emphasize  the  importance  which  I 
attach.to  exhibiting  the  difference  between  all  previous  attempts  at  wheel  literature  and  my  own. 
I  wish  to  show  clearly  that  this  is  not  only  incomparably  more  massive  than  any  other,  in  respect 
to  mere  bulk  of  words  grouped  together,  and  unique  in  respect  to  the  amount  of  painstaking 
effort  devoted  to  grouping  them,  but  that  it  differs  essentially  from  the  rest  in  respect  to  its 
pecuniary  ideal.  All  other  books  and  pamphlets— save  those  issued  "  merely  for  the  fun  of  it " 
(/•  r.,  to  gratify  the  author's  vanity,  or  "  for  the  good  of  the  cause  ")— have  plainly  been  copyists 
and  rivals  of  the  trade-journals :  seeking  to  make  money  only  from  advertisements,  and  caring 


702 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


nothing  for  readera  except  as  a  bait  to  catch  this  patron^e  of  "  the  trade."  To  the  outer  worid, 
therefore,  all  such  prints  seem  simply  devices  of  the  makers  and  dealers,  for  increasing  the  cyde 
business.  But  an  elaborate  and  expensive  volume  which  can  rise  superior  to  all  trade  influenoea, 
and,  by  virtue  of  demonstrating  its  independence  of  them,  can  win  profitable  support  from  an 
unexampled  multitude  of  readers,  is  a  thing  which  most  impress  the  imagination  of  the  outer 
world  with  the  power  of  cycling  itself.  I  think  each  owner  of  this  book  will  like  it  better  be> 
cause  it  nowhere  affronts  him  with  any  block-type  "  adv.,"  or  even  with  the  picture  of  a  bicy- 
cle ;  and  I  hope  each  "  copartner  "  will  have  his  pride  in  it  so  increased,  by  the  knowledge  that 
not  a  single  line  has  been  offered  for  sale  or  barter,  as  to  reniter  him  ei^^  to  reward  ne,  and 
paralyse  a  sceptical  public,  by  helping  force  a  qieedy  sale  of  50,000  oc^ies. 


Germ  and  con- 
ception. 


"  An  index  of  places  "  was  recommended  by  me  when  the  BL  IVorid 
drew  near  the  end  of  its  first  annual  volume ;  and  the  editor,  in  printing  my 
aigument  (Nov.  26,  '80,  p.  36),  said  it  had  induced  him  to  b^n  on  such  an 
index,  but  that  the  threatened  bulkiness  thereof  seemed  to  render  its  completion  and  publication 
impracticable.  The  idea  in  that  letter  was  the  genn  from  which  has  grown  this  book ;  and 
when  the  Wkttlman  was  started,  nearly  two  yean  later,  I  talked  over  the  same  idea  with  its 
editor,  and  at  last  agreed  to  prepare  for  him  an  article,  formulating  my  scheme  for  a  series  of 
such  elaborate  indexes  as  would  "  make  the  successive  semi-annual  volumes  of  his  monthly  maga- 
zine assume  the  character  of  standard  guides  to  American  roads."  I  wrote  this  in  July,  and  it  was 
printed  at  the  end  of  the  ad  vol.  of  the  Wkeeiman  (Sept.,  '83,  pp.  458-463),  with  the  title,  "  A 
Colossus  of  Roads."  Having  shown  the  reasons  why  this  title  represented  my  ideal  of  the 
IVkeeimoHj  and  having  urged  the  sort  of  indexing  which  would  win  it  in  fact,  I  concluded  by 
offering  the  following  confession :  "  There  remains,  however,  the  profound  dictum  of  Benjamin 
Franklin  :  '  If  a  man  insists  on  having  a  thing  really  well  done,  in  this  world,  he  must  do  it 
himself.'  So,  three  months  ago,  as  I  reclined  beside  ray  bicycle  on  the  green  slope  of  the  old 
battle-field  at  White  Plains,  though  it  was  the  centennial  anniversary  of  the  day  (April  19,  1783 ; 
see  p.  74)  when  Washington  proclaimed  the  cessation  of  hostilities  to  the  army  at  Newbuigfa, 
my  mind  was  not  wholly  taken  up  with  patriotic  reminiscences.  I  bethought  me  at  times  of  the 
promised  production  of  the  present  article ;  and  as  I  reflected  on  the  impossibility  of  ever  per- 
suading another  man  to  prepare  an  index  exactly  in  accordance  with  my  own  ideal  of  it,  the 
question  gradually  took  shape  before  me,  *  Why  not  publish  a  bicycler's  road-book  of  your  own, 
and  index  every  proper  name  in  it  entirely  to  your  heart's  content  ? '  To  this  question,  when 
fairly  formulated,  I  at  once  replied,  '  I  will ' ;  and  before  I  resumed  my  homeward  journey  I 
decided  that  the  book  should  be  called  '  Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle,'  and  shouki  be 
ready  for  publication  in  December,  1884." 

Simultaneous  with  thu  was  the  dedsion  that  a  portrait  of  my  beloved 
bull-dog  should  face  the  title-page,  that  his  biography  should  form  the 
chief  "  literary  "  feature  of  the  volume,  and  that  another  chapter  should 
describe  "the  queer  house  that  I  live  in.'*  The  notion  of  writing  something  about  these  two 
unique  subjects  had  possessed  me  f<n-  several  years,  but  the  improbability  of  finding  any  pub- 
lisher,  for  such  sort  of  sketches  as  I  planned,  had  prevented  the  actual  writing.  On  the  fifth 
page  of  the  previous  chapter,  I  have  explained  how  the  Pope  Mfg.  0>.'s  offer  of  a  prize  (July, 
'81)  led  me  to  produce  the  book's  introductory  essay,  **  On  the  Wheel " ;  but  the  incidents  of 
my  first  long  tour  (500  m.  in  Sept.,  '80;  see  pp.  199-308)  had  previously  decided  me  to  attempt 
such  an  article,  for  LippincotCs  MaguMuu,  because  I  felt  sure  that  I  couki  write  more  amusingly 
than  another  contributor  who  had  already  been  allowed  to  exhibit  the  bicyde  in  its  pages.  The 
Popes'  offer  simply  hastened  the  execution  of  tMs  long-delayed  plan,— for  I  thought  that  my 
magazine  article  might  as  well  take  a  preliminary  chance  at  their  prize  (whkh,  if  won,  would  be 
better  pay  than  the  usual  magazine  rates);  but  the  very  general  praise  given  to  the  aitide,  by 
reviewers  who  noticed  the  June  issue  of  Lip^inectt  containing  it,  had  a  mofe  important  mental 
effect  upon  me,  uhimately,  than  the  winning  of  the  prize  could  have  had.  Rememhrance  of  it, 
when  the  idea  of  the  book  first  took  shape  in  my  conadousness,  made  me  confident  that  the  essay 
would  serve  as  a  suitable  introduction  thereto ;  and  I  have  mentaoDed  on  p.  519  that  the  hearty 


Early  notions  and 
influences. 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  703 

Ihouglili  to  drift  bookward.  On  Ihat  hisloric  i9lh  of  April,  wben  all  lh«e  icihoie  elsmtnti  aad 
long-KatlMriog  lendenda.  cuhninated  in  the  conoplion  ol  Ihc  bode,  in;  liduig  rcccrd  ladted 
more  than  }6oo  m^  af  jiuufying  (he  choKn  title ;  but  I  ban  evpkaintd  in  (he  preface  of  my 
"SuaishUwiy  "  chlpiei  (p.  19;)  tha(  1  then  ■□(idpMed  an  unuiually  active  Kuon  of  wheeling, 
as  jt  (neana  of  jvgaJDing;  my  impaired  heal(h,aiid  larii^B^^  tuppljof  Btnngth  equa^  to  the  pub* 
liahiog  scheme  ahead  of  mc, — thou^  I  had  no  idea  that  (bit  wu  deuioed  to  develop  uKo  (he 
enenUTC  and  lh*lome  enterpriie  I  im  now  grappling  with.  Within  a  weeli  fmm  the  tqlb,  in 
acknowledgiDg  an  annual  payment  fioin  (he  publiiher  of  my  earlier  book,  I  Icnk  occation  to 
(ell  him  briefty  of  Ihe  new  plan,  and  10  >ugg»[  that  he  make  me  an  offer  concerning  i(.  Hie 
(ender  ol  (he  relation  reply,  (hat  he  "  thould  be  pleated  (o  coDHder  my  maniiKrip(,  when 
ready,"  a(  once  convinced  me  (hat  T  muBt  personally  flhonlder  (be  whoie  affair  if  I  wished  (osee 

when  (landing  in  BDi(on  fmm  my  Nova  Sco(ia  tour;  ie«  p,  193)1  called  on  (be  presiden(  of  the 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  and  (alked  (he  matter  up. 

Arrnngemenl  with  I         1^""  "^  "'""  """^  "'"^  "■'"'"  >«  "o  "  see  a  great  light"  for  (ho 
Co/.  Pofe.         I  ,|,eth"™  Ln  "^^^mI  Ihe'  grate,^  ^"a^^ke'  in  that  "I 

any  very  pmmising  field  for  such  a  road-hDok  as  1  loughly  outlined  (o  him,  dt  that  its  circulation 
would  gready  help  (he  cycling  trade.  He  said  (hat  more  than  four  yean  had  been  rtquind  for 
wofhing  off  400a  of  Pra(t's  "Amerkan  Bicycler,"  though  a  large  proportion  of  these  had  been 
given  away  <(o  newspaper  wii(efi,  libtariam  and  others),  for  the  sake  of  dispelling  popular  jgno- 

of  his  slight  en(husla9in.  he  would  be  willing  10  taTorably  considerany  definite  propositioD  I  might 
make  him  when  I  got  (he  proapecnts  of  mine  fairly  formulated.  Tliis  happened  three  moniha 
later  (Dec-  1),  and  I  (hen  proposed  (hat  he  buy  a(  half.price  aooo  copies  of  (be  ft  subscription- 
book  (heirin  described,— paying  $500  for  (he  flrml  tooo  on  publica(iDn.day,  which  must  be  within 
■  year  frotn  date,  and  f  300  for  the  second  1000  «ri(hin  a  year  tliereaf(er.  I  reserved  (he  right  (o 
retain  this  second  jooo  or  any  part  thereof,  and  I  offered  (o  leave  the  payment  lor  even  (he  first 
TOOO  entirely  dependen(  upon  the  purchaser's  sa(isIac(ion  with  Ihe  actual  book.    I  insisted  that 

that  none  o(  them  should  be  sokl  for  less  than  ft.  I  agreed  thai  the  ed.  should  beal  least  vtb, 
and  Ihal  I  wouM  not  issue  a  new  ed.  without  fim  offering  to  buy  back  ai  the  purchase  price  any 
unsold  copies  of  the  1000.    This  propoeilion  was  (onnally  accepted  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  Dee. 

tuld  him  that  I  could  not  bring  out  the  book  wi(hin  (he  specified  time,  and  (hat,  instead  of  being, 
as  first  planned,  an  affair  of  ya  pp.  (capable  of  being  manufactured,  say,  for  sj  c-  a  copy),  it 
was  likely  to  lie  so  large  as  (o  leave  no  decent  margin  on  a  conlT^cl  a(  half  the  subscription- 
price.  So,  by  mu(ual  conscn(,  our  ^p'eemen(  was  ■broga(ed.  I  said  I  ihoukl  probably  offer 
h^SBOthcr  chance,  later  on,  to  make  money  as  a  bookseller;  but  I  did  not  do  so  in  fact  till 
(hen  declined  it.  (See  p.  ;ii.) 


iber  had  previoinly  been  pledged 
od  that  the  chief  value  lo  me  of 
of  il,  1  should  probably  never 


704 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


• 


A  prophecy  from 
Boston, 


Having  gained  this  first  pcnnt,  however,  I  was  emboldened  (Jan.  la,  *84)  to  take  to  the  piinter 
the  copy  for  my  "  prospectus  of  Dec.  3  "  and  ''  circular  to  American  wheelmen,** — datii^  the 
latter  "  Jan.  15,*'  which  was  the  day  when  I  read  the  proofs  and  ordered  2700  impressions. 
On  that  day,  too,  the  publishers  of  the  BL  H^orU  sent  to  me  the  following  letter  :  *'  Dear  Sn-,— 
The  prospectus  is  too  much  in  the  line  of  an  advertisement  to  be  admitted  free.  We  are  willii^ 
to  help  you  all  we  can,  but  you  are  newspaper-man  enough  to  know  that  if  you  have  goods  to 
sell  you  must  advertise  them  and  pay  for  the  same.  We  are  in  the  business  not  for  the  love  of 
it,  but  to  make  money,  and  we  cannot  afford  to  give  our  space  for  nothing  to  those  who  have 
goods  to  sell  to  wheefmen.  Respectfully,  £.  C.  Hodges  &  Co.*' 

The  above  was  in  response  to  my  suggestion  that  the  Bi.  WortdvoA. 
Wfuel  (the  only  cycling  papers  then  in  the  field)  should  be  given  a  chance 
to  make  simultaneous  announcement  of  the  scheme,  either  on  Jan.  25  or 
a  week  later,  as  they  might  agree ;  for  I  wished  that  neither  journal  should  win  exclusive  credit 
by  first  bringing  out  an  important  piece  of  "  news.*'  On  the  i8th,  I  mailed  to  each  a  proof  copy 
of  prospectus  and  circular,  and  remarked  to  ed.  of  B.  IV.  that  I  hoped,  when  he  actually  saw 
the  same,  he  would  think  it  contained  much  matter  worth  publishing,^«specially  as  ed.  of 
WheelYizA.  notified  me  of  his  intention  to  give  a  liberal  amount  of  space  to  it  on  the  25th.  He 
replied  on  23d,  in  friendly  spirit,  admitting  that  my  argument  had  so  far  overcome  his  expressed 
objection  of  the  15th  to  "  a  free  adv."  that  about  a  column  and  a  quarter  of  my  matter  had  been 
marked  for  insertion  ;  and  regretting  that,  by  a  printer's  blunder,  it  had  been  held  over  for  the 
next  issue,  Feb.  i.  He  added  these  memorable  words  :  "  And  now,  pray,  let  me  draw  a  little 
from  my  experience.  My  opinion  has  not  been  asked,  but  I  venture  to  offer  a  few  hints  regard- 
ing your  road-book.  I  have  been  selling  bicycling  literature  for  nearly  three  years,  and  I  know 
a  little  about  the  market.  Let  me  say  then,  frankly,  that  you  cannot  sell  1000  copies  of  a  bicy- 
cling work  at  %x  each, — no  matter  how  good  it  is  nor  how  much  it  commends  itself.  The  mar- 
ket  will  not  absorb  that  quantity  of  books.  I  place  the  outside  limit  of  your  sales  at  300  copies, 
and  I  can*t  believe  you  wnll  sell  that  number.  You  will  say  that  the  wheelmen  have  been  cry- 
ing for  just  such  a  book,  and  that  the  g^eat  majority  ought  to  buy  it.  Experience  will  show  you 
that,  no  matter  how  much  the  bicyclers  may  howl  for  a  thing,  they  fail  to  come  to  time  when 
asked  to  pay  for  it.  *  '^  *  I  don't  desire  to  throw  a  wet  blanket  on  your  enterprise  ;  neither 
do  I  desire  to  see  you  enter  on  a  speculation  without  a  full  knowledge  of  the  facts.  I  think 
your  road-book  will  sell ;  but,  if  you  must  have  an  advance  sale  of  xooo  copies,  you  will  waste 
your  time  and  money  working  on  the  thing." 


How  "300"  fixed  nu 
for  "  3000." 


This  mistaken  prediction  is  by  no  means  quoted  for  the  sake  of 
discrediting  the  shrewdness  of  its  author,  but  rather  for  showing 
clearly  the  antecedent  probabilities  of  the  case.  The  writer  of 
those  words  was  more  competent  than' any  other  man  in  America  to  form  an  intelligent  and  dis- 
passionate "  business  "  judgment  of  the  chances  for  making  money  by  publishing  such  a  book 
as  my  prospectus  described.  He  was  familiar  writh  my  writings  and  had  a  good  opinion  of  them, 
and  his  warning  was  prompted  by  sincere  good-will,  and  it  deserved  the  respect  always  due  to 
the  opinion  of  an  experienced  and  careful  observer.  Yet  it  supplied  the  best  conceivable  spar 
for  driving  roe  ahead, — ^as  shown  by  what  I  at  once  (Jan.  31)  wrote  to  the  Wheel:  "  He  believes 
that,  as  regards  the  assumed  demand  for  a  road-book,  the  cyclers  of  the  country  will  *  talk  taffy ' 
everlastingly,  but  will  not  *  talk  money  '  worth  a  cent.  Nevertheless,  if  I  really  publish  such  a 
book,  it  will  be  with  the  intention  of  having  it  show  on  its  very  face  that  no  less  than  3000  of  the 
'  taffy-talkers  *  have  braced  me  up  with  their  %\  bills,  and  thereby  demonstrated  that  this  theory 
as  to  their  character  was  wrong.'''*  In  the  same  letter,  I  suggested  "  X.  M.  Miles  on  a  BL"  as 
a  tolerable  abbreviation  for  the  long  title  of  the  book,  and.  reported  that  almost  200  League 
members  were  subscribers  to  it,  though  only  six  days  had  gone  since  the  IVhe^XBoAt.  public  the 
scheme.  For  that  journal,  much  to  my  surprise,  printed  my  prospectus  and  circular  in  fall, 
together  with  a  long  editorial  recommendation  thereof, — giving  nearly  two  pages  kA  space  in  all, 
including  its  title-page.  I  was  thus  enabled  without  expense  to  make  a  "  preliminary  canvass 
of  the  League  "  (the  Wheel  htins  mailed  to  each  member,  as  *'  official  oigan  **) ;  amd  I  said,  ia 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  705 

ihb  fint  liking  for  pieces  :  "  The  DumdMr  and  chinctei  d[  IhE  lespnnes  mzived  will  enable 
me  10  dedde  whether  or  cioc  it  a  vrorth  ray  whilo  to  attempt  a  canvaM  o\  outiide  wheelmen^  by 
addreuijig  ciiculan  lo  them  iodividually  >  for,  if  the  league  racn  ignore  my  appeal,  1  ilull  be 
convinced  of  the  futility  olt^Tryiog  my  scheme  fiuiher,  and  shall  waste  no  more  lime  and  raoney 
upDD  a  road-book  for  which  there  is  no  real  demaod.  ^' 

mefe  "  number '^  of  Ihem ;  though  this  itself  was  extraordinary,  for,  on  the  twelfth  day  after  the 
iVfutti  first  call  to  the  League,  my  subscriptions  exceeded  300,  which  was  the  "  outside  limit  ** 

book.  1  embodied  HHiie  of  the  more  significant  of  these  lesponsei  in  a  letter  called  "  A 
Oub-Liil  as  »fel]  as  Road-BooL,"  co«ring  i  pp.  of  Iflutl.  and  f  drcuialed  looo  copies  of  this, 
as  "  if'lwl  Extra  of  Feb.  ai," — though,  by  a  primer's  blunder  in  distributing  (he  type,  it  never 
vas  really  inserted  in  the  regular  issue,  f  also  circulated  looo  copies  of  a  a  p.  reprint  fmiti 
IVIuilol  Jan.  1;;  and  I  mention  the  fact  to  show  the  iiuid^iul  advertisement  ensured  to  thai 
)aumal  by  its  willingness  to  freely  help  my  scheme.  In  a  letter  to  its  editor,  MayS  (printed  May 
aj),  I  reminded  his  readers  that — "  though  he  cerlaioly  never  had  cause  to  cherish  any  special 
good-will  towards  me,  for  I  rarely  extended  soy  support  to  the  paper  beyond  paying  my  annual 

he  had  put  in  type  every  won!  I  had  lent  him  about  the  book.  Hence,  "  1  wish  lo  bear  testi- 
mony (hat  for  all  this  valuable  service  1  have  paid  not  %i  in  tnoney^  I  have  given  no  promise  of 
payment  in  the  shape  of  engaging  '  adv.  space  *  for  the  future ;  I  have  subscKbed  for  not  so 

in  giving  a  boom  to  my  book,  thati  a  hroad-mluded  belief  that  the  success  of  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  for  cycling,— a  good  thing  for  ths  League.  The  WhiH  has  not  so  much  as  attempted  10 
make  any  immediate  profit  out  of  the  prefect,  but  has  been  satisfied  with  the  promise  of  its  own 
prr>peT  share  in  the  idiimale  profits  that  must  result  from  the  increase  of  bicycling.  Other 
papers,  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  have  had  Idod  words  to  say  in  behalf  of  the  scheme,  and 
J  hope  T  am  properly  gratefal  for  the  same;  but  (he  Wh^  has  certainly  done  more  than  all 

tion  of  the  fad  should  be  put  on  record  as  impressively  as  passible.  1[  a  knovrlei^  of  the 
liberal  aid  extended  to  my  bonk  shall  incline  any  hesitating  League  member  to  renew  his  sub- 
scription to  the  W^lutl,  I  tliink  it  only  fair  thai  the  paper  should  have  the  benefit  of  such  knowl- 
edge. With  this  prelitde,  I  invite  the  Lc^ue*s  attention  to  my  formal  aDnouocement  of  'A 
GHidt-BaiJt  wiliMl  AdvtrliKMtaii.' "  (Then  followed  a  full  reprint  of  my  drcular  so  entitled, 
which  was  dated  May  3,  '3i,andcov<redone  vdeof  anotesbeet,  s  by  S  in.  On  the  olberside 
was  reproduced  my  "  prospectus  and  table  of  contents,  as  arranged  Dec  j,  'ij,"  except  that,  In- 


a  finish.    It  said: 


^KHIt  Oct. 

is"  we 

ftfrmaiprBm 

1  ceptiu 

the  11 

Attraction  of  English 
patrons. 


706  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

by  30 ;  while  Bermuda,  England,  Scotland,  Holland,  Germany,  and  Australia  send  an  agjgie- 
gate  of  30  names,  scattered  among  a  dozen  towns,  my  most  distant  supporters  being  the  captain 
and  three  members  of  the  Melbourne  B.  C."  The  latter  were  won  by  circulars  which  I  mailed 
at  the  very  outset,  in  Jan. ;  and  the  editor  of  the  earliest  cycling  paper  of  Melbourne  wrote  to 
me  thus,  on  March  12  :  "An  experience  of  some  three  years  in  Southern  wheel  life  has  jwr- 
mitted  me  to  form,  with  tolerable  certainty,  an  estimate  of  the  mind  of  the  average  colonial  cy- 
clist. Consequently  I  can  say  :  Be  not  sanguine  of  disposing  of  many  copies  of  your  book  in 
this  part  of  the  hemisphere.  If  you  obtain  la  subscribers  I  shall  be  most  agreeably  surprised. 
However,  I  shall  do  my  level  best  to  procure  you  what  you  desire. "  Yet,  in  fact,  I  obtained 
iia  there, — ^and  37  of  them  from  a  single  town  of  only  35,000  inhabitants. 

As  regards  England,  I  waited  till  the  end  of  Feb.,  when  600  names 
were  enrolled,  before  sending  my  circulars  to  the  editors  of  its  cy- 
cling press.  Nearly  all  of  them  subscribed,  and  recommended  their 
readers  to  do  likewise ;  but  it  remained  for  Wheelings  which  was  started  a  few  months  later,  to 
really  pick  up  the  scheme  and  "  run  it "  as  a  regular  feature.  On  the  first  anniversary  of  my 
prospectus  (Dec.  3,  '84,  p.  72),  it  printed  a  long  letter  of  mine,  showing  that  I  had  then  obtained 
as  many  supporters  from  New  Zealand  as  from  England,  and  more  from  the  whole  of  Australa- 
sia (31)  than  from  the  whole  of  Europe.  I  explained  this  by  saying  that,  though  I  had  from  the 
outset  kept  vigorously  at  work  in  those  remote  regions,  through  the  A  ustraiian  Cycling  Newt 
and  private  correspondents,  "  I  had  not  yet  begun  any  serious  attempt  for  support  among  the 
clubs  of  Great  Britain."  My  first  regular  broadside  was  fired  in  that  direction  Feb.  5,  '85,  aimed 
at  200  club-ofRcers  and  other  wheelmen  of  prominence.  I  sent  to  each  a  copy  of  the  chapter 
on  "  Bermuda,"  as  a  specimen  of  my  work,  with  a  variety  of  circulars, — one  of  which  said  that 
my  total  list  (2412)  included  206  patrons  outside  the  U.  S.,  whereof  41  were  residents  of  Great 
Britaun.  "  I  am  afraid  K.  K.  will  be  sadly  disappointed  "  (wrote  "  Comus,"  in  Wheel  Life, 
Feb.  27,  p.  233)  "  when  he  finds  the  41  Englishmen  on  his  books  not  greatly  increased  by  this 
last  bold  adv.  He  is,  I  should  say,  a  firm  believer  in  the  freemasonry  of  the  wheel.  It  is  a 
pity  to  cure  him  of  his  belief."  In  fact,  however,  the  41  were  increased  more  than  fourfold,  by 
reason  of  this  **  bold  adv."  and  later  ones, — chief  among  which  was  iVheeling^s  offer  to  freely 
mail  my  circulars  to  all  applicants,  to  announce  through  its  "  Ans.  to  Correspondents  "  all  sub. 
pledged  addressed  to  me  at  its  office,  and  ultimately  to  acknowledge  through  the  same  medium 
all  payments  made  to  its  publisher,  as  my  agent,  by  actual  recipients  of  the  book.  For  these 
valuable  services,  it  should  be  understood,  there  was  never  any  sort  of  "  private  bargaining  "  or 
mutual  agreement ;  but,  as  occasion  offered,  in  printing  thousands  of  new  labels  and  circulars, 
I  naturally  took  pains  to  reciprocate,  by  appending  thereto  a  "  free  adv."  of  Wheeling.  I  did 
this  the  more  readily  because  the  act  would  at  the  same  time  help  the  Springfield  Wheelme^x 
Gazette^  whose  adv.  was  combined  with  Wheeling' s^ — each  paper  seeking  supporters  in  the 
country  of  the  other,  whereas  the  rest  of  the  wheel  press  have  made  slight  effort  for  such  "  in- 
ternational "  patronage. 

When  the  Gazette  was  revived  as  a  permanent  monthly  (May,  '84), 
it  was  by  the  editor's  special  request  that  I  contributed  thereto  a  speci- 
men article  designed  for  my  book,  with  a  full-page  summary  of  my  pre- 
liminary canvass ;  and  if  any  of  the  later  issues  has  failed  to  contain  a  similar  article^  or  some 
sort  of  paragraph  or  advertisement  about  the  scheme,  the  omission  has  been  due  to  my  own 
negligence  in  supplying  copy.  Whatever  I  have  seen  fit  to  write  has  been  given  full  and  free 
insertion.  Concerning  this  liberal  policy,  a  leading  editorial  of  Feb.,  '85,  remarked  that  it  had 
been  adopted  quite  independently  of  any  interest  which  the  editor  might  have  in  getting  the 
contract  for  the  manufacture  of  the  book  awarded  to  the  Springfield  Printing  Co.,  of  which  he 
is  superintendent.  "  The  policy  was  adopted  at  a  time  when  the  contracf  seemed  destined  to  go 
to  New  York ;  and,  if  it  had  gone  there  instead  of  coming  to  Springfield,  the  policy  would  have 
been  adhered  to,  the  same  as  now,  on  the  simple  score  of  giving  a  boom  to  cycling."  My 
"Circular  to  Hotel  Keepers"  and  sketch  of  "The  Costs  of  Book-making"  covered  4  pp.  in 
the  Gtuette  of  Aug.,  '84,  and  I  circulated  1000  reprints  of  the  same.    Then,  Sepc  35,  I  pre- 


"  Gazette  "  help  at 
Springfield. 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  707 

pared  a  revised  contents-table,  called  "  The  Great  American  Road-Book,"  which  filled  a  pp.  of 
Oct.  GoMette  ;  and  I  ultimately  used  6509  reprints  thereof,  in  a  half  dozen  eds.  The  act  of 
compiling  this  gave  me  my  first  definite  idea  as  to  the  probable  amount  of  material  which  I  had 
agreed  to  "  supply  for  $1."  Finding  that  the  19  chapters  then  in  existence  comprised  about 
103,000  yrordSf  and  estimating  that  as  many  more  would  be  needed  for  the  16  unwritten  chap- 
ters, I  said  :  "  As  this  will  be  more  than  four  times  the  number  of  words  in  the  '  Wheelman's 
Annual  for  '8a,'  which  sold  for  $1,  my  present  doubt  concerns  not  so  much  my  ability  to  pledge 
the  1060  names  lau:king  for  the  3000,  as  to  make  any  profit  in  supplying  so  expensive  a  book  at 
the  specified  rate.  I  've  therefore  decided  to  increase  its  price  to  5i-5o  for  all  purchasers  after 
publication  day."  Two  months  before,  I  had  announced  that  such  buyers  would  have  to  pay 
$1.25 ;  and  even  my  May  circular  had  said  that  an  extra  postage  chaise  against  them  was  prob- 
able. The  Dec.  Gazette  gave  a  page  to  my  "  Pointer  for  '  the  Trade,'  "  and  the  March  issue  an 
equal  space  to  a  summary  of  loca]ities  represented  by  the  3384  subs,  enrolled  at  the  close  of 
Jan.,  '85.  I  issued  3500  reprints  of  both  pages,  and  I  was  charged  nothing  for  use  of  the 
electrotypes  thereof,  nor  for  others  previously  mentioned.  I  took  pains,  however,  to  append  a 
mars^nal  adv.  of  the  Gaaeite  and  iVketling  to  the  later  eds.  of  all  these  ;  and  the  G.  adv.  was  also 
given  7500  impressions  in  a  content»>table  which  I  prepared  in  Jan.,  '85,  for  use  as  a  final  page 
to  the  specimen  chapter  on  "  Bermuda"  (3500  copies,  in  3  eds.),  and  which  I  used  again  with 
"  Bone-Shaker  Days  "  (Nov.,  '85,  1000  copies)  and  independently  (3000). 

Defense  ofth,  "  WheePs  »     ,    ^'T  ^^^  8''*^'  ^»»«°  \  ^}^':^  ^  ^°"1^  "  P»^°J  *»»«  ^oo*^ 
\.  ,  *"*'  gd^ng  '«oo  more  subscriptions,"  to  July  4,  '85,  when 

free  adv,  «  ^j^^  yxxA\i "  was  really  enrolled,  neariy  every  week's  Wheel 

contained  something  about  the  canvass, — varying  from  a  two-line  paragraph  to  a  long  letter. 
The  longest  covered  five  columns,  Nov.  21,  and  was  written  (in  response  to  the  editor's  request  for 
"  anything  to  fill  up,"  at  a  time  when  he  was  disabled)  for  the  same  purpose  as  this  present  chap- 
ter :  namely,  to  demonstrate  that  the  '*  free  advertisement "  given  my  scheme,  by  the  cycling 
press  all  over  the  world,  is  defensible  on  strict  business  principles,  and  forms  no  exception  to 
the  rule  that  nothing  valuable  can  be  had  without  paying  the  full  price  for  it.  Four  months 
later,  the  ed.  offered  to  mail  his  "  spedal  illust.  WheeV*  (Apr.  3,  '85)  to  each  one  of  my  2621 
subscribers,  and  I  therefore  printed  therein  an  address  to  them  saying :  *"  Postponement '  is  not  a 
proper  word  to  apply  to  the  delay  in  the  arrival  of  my  publication-day,  for  the  dates  named  have 
necessarily  been  provisional, — expressive  of  my  hope  and  belief  rather  than  of  knowledge.  My 
present  desperate  hope  is  to  finish  in  June ;  but  I  know  nothing  about  it.  Electrotypes  of  80 
pp.  only  have  been  cast.  The  contract  is  for  5000  books  of  400  pp.,  }  brevier  and  \  nonpareil ; 
and.even  if  this  amount  be  not  exceeded,tbe  cost  will  come  within  $300  of  the  ^3000  which  I  expect 
to  get  from  subscribers.  Hence,  it  is  only  by  the  prompt  sale  of  the  final  aooo  at  $  i.  50  each  that 
I  can  hope  to  reap  any  reward  for  my  two  years'  work  and  risk."  Other  correspondents  of  the 
Wheel  having  occasionally  cried  out  against  the  editor's  giving  so  much  space  to  my  tirescmae 
statistics  and  arguments,  I  suggested  in  rq>ly  that  he  "  was  probably  not  a  victim  to  the  delusion 
that  all  these  were  of  intense  and  universal  interest,"  but  that  he  "  presumably  printed  them  as 
an  acceptable  substitute  for  the  '  padding '  customarily  employed  by  the  other  papers."  I  said, 
too,  that  the  road  information  and  general  news,  from  various  sources,  which  I  incorporated  into 
most  of  my  '*  padding,"  ought  to  help  "  take  off  the  curse  "  from  the  purely  personal  part  of 
it ;  and  that,  as  the  latter  could  be  easily  skipped  by  "  constant  readers,"  they  should  not  re- 
sent its  presence  as  a  bait  for  new-comers. 

I  believe  the  Canadian  Wheelman,  Southern  Cycler^ 
Bicycle  (of  Montgomery) and  Star  Advocate  printed  every- 
thing I  ever  wrote  for  them  about  the  scheme,  and  I  was 
more  than  once  urged  to  "  write  oftener."  The  League's  oflBcial  weekly  (during  the  jrear  which 
elapsed  between  the  departure  from  the  Wheel  znd  the  establishment  of  the  Bulletin)  was  such 
a  small  and  meanly-printed  sheet  that  I  wrote  very  little  for  it,— espedally  after  learning  that 
its  editor  had  been  criticised  for  "  helping  a  noo-member  of  the  League,"  by  publishing  a  short 
note  of  mifie,— bat  I  think  that  all  I  did  write  was  printed,  ezc^  a  kmg  "  Aigument  to  Uotel- 


Press  encouragement  at  Boston 
and  elsewk€re. 


7o8         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Keepers/'  which  finally  filled  three  columns  in  the  Wheel  (Dec.  36,  '84).  I  believe,  too,  that 
the  BL  Wcrld  used  almost  everything  I  wrote  for  it^^hough  the  whole  amount  was  small,  be- 
cause, as  all  the  other  papers  were  surely  open  to  me,  and  called  for  more  "  adv.  copy  "  than  I 
could  supply,  I  hesitated  about  risking  time  in  a  quarter  where  there  was  doubt  of  acceptance. 
An  odd  contradiction  was  represented  by  this  doubt ;  for,  while  the  other  papers  had  no  motive 
for  favoring  me  except  the  general  one  before  explained,  the  BL  World  might  have  been  pre- 
sumed, apriori^  to  be  anxious  to  favor  me,  as  an  easy  way  of  paying  for  the  touring  reports  and 
other  articles  which  I  had  contributed  to  its  columns,  almost  exclusively,  for  the  previous  five 
years.  I  had  never  received  a  cent  for  these,  though  earning  my  livelihood  wholly  by  news- 
paper writing  during  all  that  interval ;  and,  as  the  B.  W.  would  be  advertised  by  having  several 
of  my  chapters  accredited  to  it,  and  as  it  had  more  than  once  cri«l  aloud  for  some  one  to  publish 
a  road-book,  I  naturally  supposed  it  would  take  the  lead  in  helping  my  scheme  along.  There 
seemed  a  genuine  Boston  coolness,  therefore,  in  its  publishers'  note,  saying  that  even  my  pre- 
liminary circular,  prepared  merely  as  a  scientific  test  of  its  own  theory  about  the  existing  de- 
mand for  such  a  book,  wais  classed  as  "goods  to  sell  to  wheelmen,"  and  would  not  be  reprinted 
"  unless  paid  for  at  regular  adv.  rates."  The  logic  of  events  forced  a  quick  change  of  this  opin- 
ion, and  space  was  really  given  for  the  circular  (after  the  chapter-titles,  the  roost  readable  and 
significant  part  of  it,  had  been  cut  out  I),  as  well  as  for  later  "  advertising  "  ;  but  the  B.  W.^s 
delay  and  "  offishness  "  resulted  in  a  public  surrender  to  the  Wheel  of  the  entire  credit  for  the 
brilliant  success  of  my  opening  canvass, — which  I  had  planned  to  have  accredited  equally  to 
each, — and  a  gradual  transfer  thither  of  such  "  good-will "  as  may  have  attached  to  an  exclu- 
sive use  of  my  signature.  I  've  never  cherished  any  grievance  against  the  B.  W.,  or  thought  of 
any  one  connected  with  it  as  being  unfriendly  to  me ;  but  its  "  Boston  notion  "  of  looking  upon 
my  many-sided  scheme  as  possessed  of  no  more  public  interest  than  "  bicycling  goods  for  sale,** 
was  adhered  to  so  long  that,  rather  than  contend  against  it,  I  got  into  the  way  of  sending  most 
of  my  writings  elsewhere.  "  New  York  shrewdness,"  on  the  other  hand,  must  be  attributed  to 
the  Wheefs  editor  for  at  once  recognizing  my  prospectus  as  the  most  notable  chance  of  the 
winter  in  cycling  journalism.  He  may  have  erred  afterwards,  in  allowing  me  to  fill  up  so  much 
space  with  a  record  of  the  scheme's  progress  (though  the  B.  W,*s  plan  of  *'  filling  "  with  re- 
prints about  "  crypto-dynamic  gear,"  and  the  like,  might  have  proved  equally  tiresome) ;  bat 
no  one  can  question  the  wisdom  of  his  judgment  that  the  original  publication  thereof  would 
prove  generally  interesting.  The  238  subscription  pledges  which  came  to  me  within  a  week 
thereafter  showed  beyond  dispute  that  my  statements  had  been  commended  as  "  readable." 

It  seems  proper  to  say  here  that  no  later  appeal  through  any 
paper  has  compared  in  immediate  e£Eectivenes8  with  this  initia- 
tory call  for  League  support  made  through  the  Wheel.  After 
the  League  had  doubled  in  size,  its  Bulletin  printed  specimen  extracts  from  the  book,  with  foot- 
note adv. ;  and  the  Wheelmen's  Gazette  has  often  done  likewise  (giving  a  or  3  pp.  at  a  time, 
when  sending  out  special  eds.  of  15,000  or  20,000  copies) ;  yet,  at  best,  I  never  got  more  than  a 
dozen  responses  from  any  single  adv.  of  that  sdrt,  and  it  was  unusual  for  an  ordinary  letter,  in 
Wheel  or  other  papers,  to  bring  a  quarter  as  many.  A  b^lf-column  editorial  in  the  leading  daily 
of  a  dty  having  175,000  people,  among  whom  cycling  is  popular,  recommended  my  book  by 
name,  with  price  and  publisher's  address;  and  a  similar  "free  adv.,"  though  shorter,  adorned 
both  the  daily  and  weekly  issues  of  the  chief  "  literary  "  journal  in  the  metropolis.  Each  writer 
subscribed  for  a  personal  copy  of  the  book,  but  the  friendly  "  notices  "  of  neither  availed,  so 
far  as  I  could  discover,  to  win  a  single  additional  patron !  My  earliest  attempt  to  proclaim  the 
scheme  at  all  outside  the  cycling  world  was  on  May  15,  '84,  when  I  sent  circulars  to  100  papen, 
half  of  them  representing  colleges;  but  it  was  not  until  Dec.  10,  '85,  that  1  sought  to  call  liters 
ary  reviewers'  attention  to  it  as  an  accomplished  fact.  To  100  representatives  of  the  gffiaal 
press  of  America,  to  30  of  the  college  press  and  40  English  and  foreign  journals,  I  thai  W^ 
specimen  chapters  and  circulars,  with  a  special  note  saying,  the  book  could  be  am 
"  likely  to  appear  early  in  '86."  I  don't  suppose  that  many  of  them  so  announced  il 
any  sort  of  mention  to  it ;  but  what  chiefly  surprised  me  was  the  refusal  ol  the  mllmi 


Ineffectiveness  of  "  news- 
paper taiky 


Indifference  of 
"  the  trade:' 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.         709 

"  tumble,"  for  I  anticipated  that  most  of  them  would  be  pleased  by  my  undergraduate  reminis- 
cences of  "  Bone-Shaker  Days."  I  have  captured  only  a  few  collegians,  instead  of  the  ex- 
pected many,  and  those  few  seem  to  have  been  won  quite  independently  of  the  "notioes"  in 
the  college  press.  If  all  the  papers  in  the  country,  however,  had  taken  pains  to  push  my  scheme 
as  heartily  as  the  cycling  papers  have  done,  I  am  sure  they  could  never  have  sent  3000  sub- 
scribers to  my  list ;  and  I  am  sure  the  cycling  papers  alone  could  never  have  sent  1000.  I  would 
by  no  means  depreciate  the  value  of  their  support, — ^for  it  was  a  notable  phenomenon  of  ray 
canvass,  and  an  essential  factor  in  its  success, — but  I  wish  to  make  dear  the  truth  that  its  chief 
value  was  remote  and  contingent  My  multitude  of  subscribers  could  never  have  been  won  ex- 
cept by  the  persistent  personal  efforts  of  hundreds  of  strangers  whose  enthusiasm  I  managed  to 
arouse.  I  "  worked  the  press  "  to  arouse  this,  and  to  beat  up  the  field  in  advance  of  these 
volunteer  canvassers ;  but,  in  the  absence  of  these,  and  of  my  own  private  work  through  the  mails, 
all  the  "  newspaper  talk  "  in  the  world  would  not  have  availed  to  fill  my  roll.  (Incidentally, 
this  revelation  may  confer  a  benefit  on  the  papers  themselves,  if  their  owners  choose  to  point  to 
it  as  a  sign  that  "  reading  notices,"  secreted  in  the  fine  type  of  the  editorial  and  news  depart- 
ments, are  not  reaUy  as  effective,  in  commanding  attention,  as  are  the  out-and-out  handbills 
whoce  big  type  hoarsely  howls  its  message  from  the  regular  advertising  page.) 

The  chief  disappointment  in  my  task  has  arisen  from  the  apathy  and  in- 
difference of  *'  the  trade," — the  men  who  have  money  to  make  by  tlie  spread 
of  cycling,  and  whose  support  I  confidently  assumed  would  be  given  to  any 
plan  that  plainly  tended  to  increase  such  spread.    When  I  sailed  to  Bermuda  (see  p.  353),  for  a 
short  breathing-spell,  after  six  weeks'  steady  strain  and  struggle  in  getting  the  scheme  started, 
its  final  success  seemed  fairly  assured  by  622  pledges  ;  and  I  devoted  the  voyage  to  putting  up 
packages  of  circulars  which  I  mailed  homeward  to  250  agents  for  Columbia  bicycles.    Their 
responses  were  hardly  worth  counting.     Nine  months  later,  when  2100  pledges  were  enrolled, 
I  addressed  a  second  argument  to  "  the  trade  "  {Spr.  IVh.  Gan.^  Dec,  '84,  p.  125),  saying  that 
if  each  dealer  would  at  once  pledge  $2  for  two  copies,  he  could  sell  the  same  for  $3,  his  name 
would  appear  in  my  "  trade  directory,"  the  gap  of  900  would  close  up,  and  the  book  itself  might 
appeau*  at  the  end  of  winter.     Less  than  a  dozen  "  saw  the  point "  of  this  "  pointer,"  and  sev- 
eral of  those  were  old  subscribers.    That  issue  of  the  Gaztttt  was  mailed  by  its  editor  to  225 
cycling  tradesmen  of  England,  and  he  freely  enclosed  in  each  copy  a  special  hectograph  circu- 
lar which  I  addressed  to  them,  calling  attention  to  the  "  pointer."    One  firm  only  was  captured 
by  all  this  effort.    On  July  4,  '85,  the  day  of  enrolling  "  No.  3000,"  I  mailed  a  second  special 
note  to  120  English  dealers,  with  specimen  chapters  and  circulars ;  but  there  were  no  more 
than  a  dozen  responses.     My  final  circular  (Apr.  15,  '86),  "  to  tradesmen  who  want  the  patron- 
age of  bicyclers,"  reproduced  the  first  and  last  pages  of  my  alphabetical  sub.  list,  to  show  there 
could  be  no  doubt  about  the  3200  names,  and  their  value  for  business  purposes.    It  said  that 
the  book  would  have  700  pp.  of  450,000  words  and  be  pub.  in  June ;  that  the  first  ed.  would  be 
6200 ;  that  I  aimed  to  force  an  ultimate  sale  of  30,000  more  confidently  than  I  had  aimed  at  the 
outset  for  3000  subs. ;  and  that  this  was  the  "  final  chance  to  get  two  copies  for  $2  and  have  name 
inserted  in  trade  directory."    Mailmg  this  to  100  of  the  men  who  regularly  advertise  in  the  cy- 
cling press,  I  got  two  replies,  or  possibly  three ;  and  so  ended  the  luckless  struggle.    Hence, 
my  "directory  of  the  trade"  is  more  significant  because  of  its  omissions  than  because  of  the 
names  which  really  appear  there.     Many  of  those  names  belong  to  men  who  have  pushed  my 
scheme  to  the  utmost,  and  who  have  expressed  astonishment  at  the  inability  of  other  dealers  to 
recognize  in  it  a  valuable  help   to  "  business  " ;  but  my  conviction  is  that  these  enthusiasts 
would  have  helped  me,  all  the  same,  even  if  they  had  not  been  in  the  trade.     It  remains  to  be 
seen  whether  cycling  trarifsmen  in  general  will  accept  the  actual  book  as  worth  selling  for  no 
other  reward  thaa  ll|MMMUB^i|l|li  te  <hi<fc«iMl  that  its  circulation  will  increase  the 
sale  of  wh<iilig  ll||^|^^^^^HHHHlMtaMAh|M:  advance  stock  or  allow  me 

to  fhre  liMflHIj^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^BMjBMnding  them  to    help  along 

their  tMKll^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HHtatfgyi  ^  regard  to  improving 

b  413  dealers  were  offered 


710 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCL 


€€  , 


Progress  in  writing 
and  eUctrotyping, 


a  **  free  adv."  in  the  "  Wheelmen's  Referenoe  Book/'  before  detcribed,  only  '• 
to  fill  oot  the  blank  form  which  ensured  it 

My  contract  with  the  Springfield  Printing  Co.  .. 
'85,  and  plates  for  15  pp.  of  asth  chapter  ("  Benm.' 
that  month,  from  same  type  which  had  been  used 
into  Gazette  plates.    Copy  for  first  7  chapters  (reprint,  with  a  few  addition 
Feb.  IS ;  and  I  worked  from  then  till  Apr.  11,  105  h.,  in  writing  the  8th. 
entirely  new  chapter,  which  cost  me  54  h.,  and  all  the  others  to  the 
additions.    The  plates  for  the  ai  were  done  by  the  end  of  June  (exc^-;  * 
of  several  chapters  were  held  over  for  completion  in  Sept.) ;  and  th'- 
the  materia]  of  the  book  which  existed  when  its  first  prospectus  wn<>  - 
next  electrotyped,  in  July  (I  wrote  it  just  a  year  earlier,  in  6  days : 
(10  days;  67  h.);  Chap.  29  in  Sept.  (39  days;  167  h.) ;  and  I  th'» 
separate  pamphlets.    I  gave  33  h.  to  proof-reading  of  these  3  chn* 
83  pp.,  which  contain  no  facts  about  "  roads,"  cost  me  306  h.,  at:' 
mos.    At  this  point  my  right  hand  gave  out,  and  I  began  pcn-prnc; 
done  nearly  all  the  later  work.    Chaps.  22  (10  days;  66  h.),  23  (■  - 
60  h.),  and  36  (xi  days ;  61  h.)  were  then  successively  written  and  i 
15,  '85,  the  plates  of  book  were  complete  from  p.  1  to  p.  472.     I  \\u- 
Feb.  10,  in  preparing  copy  for  pp.  473-554i  which  comprise  Chaps.  \ 
of  33  (63  h.) ;  and  after  printing  these  I  put  in  type  39  and  40,  < 
These  were  arranged  by  other  hands,  under  my  direction,  and  ' 
special  trouble ;  but  after  the  sDpsof  the  geographical  list  had  been  . 
the  printer,  I  myself  was  forced  to  work  84  h.  in  revising  them  a: 
the  whole  process  stretching  through  3  mos.,  and  ending  Mnv 
written,  in  Apr.  (by  request,  for  first  use  in  "  Wh.  Ref.  Book  "), 
printer  in  Oct.    Chaps.  34  (7  days ;  50  h.)  and  35  (11  days ;  67  1 
and  electrotyped  in  July.    Chap.  37,  as  already  noted,  absorbed 
days ;  375  h.) ;  the  Preface  (41  h.)  during  the  first  week  of  Sept. .  ^  ' 

150  h.)  until  Sept.  30.    I  plan  next  to  prepare  Chaps.  32  and  .  '*" 

order  named, — thus  making  the  latter  the  latest  part  of  the  b(^  •  ^ 

indexes.    This  irregularity  of  construction  will  explain  some  s(  •  "* 

such  as  statements  of  late  and  early  dates  in  certain  pages  wh" 
dictory.     I  may  say,  too,  that  any  such  record  as  "  writing  a  c^ 
not  be  construed  as  excluding  other  work  ;  for  on  those  sami 
many  more  hours  to  correspondence,  proof-reading  and  the  ^  ' 
handed  signature  to  3368  "numbered  fly-leaves,  for  the  sub^c- 
36  h.  during  the  four  days  ending  with  Feb.  19 ;  and  in  1 
for  Mch.  ("  Owed  to  Spring,"  p.  193)  I  announced  that  no  > 
except  at  |r  50,  and  that  I  felt  fairly  confident  of  publishi- 

Work  of  the  Springfield   „     Th«  «*rf«*t  forms  of 
■^  ^      "=*'  Sept.  3,  '85,  and  334  pp.  w. 

Frtnttng  Co,  ,^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^^  ^„j  ^^^ 

all  the  remaining  press-work  will  be  done  after  the  comi 
regular  ed.  of  6000,  there  are  300  impressions,  on  heav 
wish  to  indulge  in  a  handsome  binding.    These  sheets, 
same  as  cloth-bound  copies  of  the  ordinary  book ;  and  ' 
elsewhere,  or  be  bound  on  the  premises  for  any  one  * 
price  with  the  Springfield  Printing  Co.     In  regard  to 
me  to  say  here,  that  I  have  employed  it  during  every  v- 
smaller  pieces  of  work  for  me,  and  that  I  expect  its  mf 
as  satisfactorily  as  those  previous  things  have  been, 
that  its  superintendent,  H.  £.  Ducker  (see  Uog.  on  1 


-  s;«ib 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT. 


reluive  menu  oi  differeal  mactuaei,  1  lelL  [hem  it  ij  a  subject  aboui  which  1  know  UDthing  aitd 
OR  Dolbipg,    All  bck  the  medumcal  aptitude  to  form  an  iDtelli^ai  and  authoiilative  cppiiuon 

enough  lor  me,  and  Ihu  1  uaturaLj  Huck  to  the  6rat  oae  which  J  happened  1o  £ct  a&Ende  of ; 
but  1  do  not  recuDHdeud  other  people  to  loJtow  my  example  in  thai  reaped,  or  iu  any  oiher/' 
The  foRgcaog  words  are  ttJU  Irue  ;  and  1  wish  to  remind  every  tradcKuau  who  a  iliaposcd  la 

Columbia,  that  my  enlire  iDexperience  wiLh  any  other  machine  mbj  the  adv.  of  power  lo  injure 
any  other,  atid  reducea  the  value  of  the  adv,  lo  the  loweal  poaaible  IcrmL  My  ca&e  is  ullerly 
different  from  thai  of  a  nian  who  prodajms  that,  "  having  Ihorcughly  tried  all  the  lival  makcflj 
he  Ktlled  dowo  on  a  Columbia  ai  '  the  be»,'  aud  has  already  ridden  it  is.ooo  m.,  al  a  eou  of 
only  %%\  c  for  oil  and  repain."  On  the  contrary,  lhi>  book  prodainn  the  deiediand  rcpai™ 
and  neceaaary  eipenies  of  my  machbe,  with  a  scientific  eihauillveneu  never  bellowed  upon 
any  other ;  and  a  very  plausible  argument  against  the  Columbiana  reputation  might  be  made  by 
reprodudnE,  oulude  of  their  connection,  all  the  damaging  facts  recorded  againit "  No.  334," 
on  pp.  ])-tS.  I  (eel  lure,  theiefure,  that  if  my  10,000  m.  had  been  meaiured  on  an  English 
bicycle.  Col.  Pope'i  luppoit  of  my  publishiog  scheme  in  'Sj,  and  hii  present  ofier  lo  help  sell 
the  actual  book,  would  have  been  just  exactly  as  liberal  \  and  so  I  ask  the  friends  of  ail  rival 
machines  also  lohelpsell  il.on  its  merits  as  an  aid  to  the  spread  of  iheir  business.  lasklhemlo 
recngniie  ils  value  as  au  honest  advettisemeot  oC  the  superiority  of  Incycling  to  all  other  model 
of  travel  \  and  lo  banish  the  false  idea  that  it  is  planned  for  Ibe  praise  of  any  style  of  bicycle. 
Indf^mdeiKe  of  all  Ptijiet  j!l7fc      k        ",1  i" 

an/i  pmuers.  |  ^  rebuilding,  1  decided  to  have  another  built  as  nearly  like  il 

as  powible  ;  and  the  makers  were  well  aware  that  I  inlended  in  pay  ihe  full  price  (or  it  in  cash, 
juw  as  I  had  paid  in  the  first  case.    They  had  no  motive,  therefoie,  of  "  hiring  me  to  ride  * 

worth  laore  10  them,  for  exbibiiion  purposes,  as  a  sErlcily  legitimate  adv.,  than  the  money  I 
should  otherwise  have  paid  them  for  "  No.  334,  Jr.'^    My  pushing  it  "  10,000  m,  through  14 

conferred  upon  il  a  factitious  value ;  and  I  was  quite  jusiified  in  selling  it  at  that  value  to  IhoH 
who  could  profit  by  iL  1  would  n'l  have  sold  it  10  any  one  else  lor  a  dollar  less.  I  wouMn'l 
have  sold  it  at  all,  in  fact,  without  (he  assurance  that  it  should  be  preserved  for  a  public  relic 
As  the  first  bicycle  in  America  10  traverse  to,ooom., — as  the  first  bicycle  in  Ihe  world  to  make 
a  straightaway  trail  of  140a  m.,-^it  certainly  has  more  value  lo  Ihe  makers  than  the  newest 
machine  in  Iheir  shop ;  and  there  rests  on  me  not  the  shadow  of  an  obligation  towards  Ihem, 

men  eminently  sagacious  in  discovering  the  side  do  which  Iheir  own  bread  is  buttered  i  but  1 
humbly  hope  the  succeis  of  my  present  scheme  may  be  striking  enough  to  aliow  thai,  as  r^ards 
the  possibililiea  of  the 
the  30,000  coiries  shall 
to  publicly  present  me 
ibeir  appredition  of 
■cmple  about  publicly 
ObjecUans  lo  gift-  j 
taking.  1 1 

sOerturhidi  aUBweda 


714         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

allowed  50  per  cent,  for  such  profit,  and  was  dedined)  could  not  seem  worth  connderingp  as  an 
ordinary  business  chance ;  but,  as  I  suppose  there  is  about  one  man  in  100  small  enougfa  to 
think  that  the  offered  gilt  of  $350  was  designed  to  fetter  me  in  some  way,  1  would  refuse  it  on 
his  account,  if  for  no  other.  In  similar  spirit,  let  me  confess  for  the  benefit  of  any  one  who 
thinks  my  praises  of  the  Lamson  luggage-carrier  may  have  been  influenced  by  my  accepting 
from  the  inveator  thereof  a  free  sample  of  each  variety,  that  I  did  so  accept  them  (for  they  were 
tendered  to  me  under  such  circumstances  that  a  refusal  would  have  amounted  almost  to  rude- 
ness), though  I  paid  for  the  third  specimen  which  I  now  have  in  use.  As  regards  my  widdy- 
advertised  opinion  of  it,  as  "  the  best  thing  of  the  sort  ever  devised,"  the  date,  '83,  ought  prop- 
erly to  be  attached, — for  several  other  good  devices  have  since  come  into  the  market,  and  I  do 
not  pretend  to  know  anything  against  their  comparative  merits.  At  the  outset  of  my  Kentudcy 
tour,  in  '83  (p.  325),  another  acquaintance  of  mine,  with  whom  I  had  "  shared  my  last  lemoo,'* 
two  years  before  (p.  109),  insisted  upon  attaching  to  one  of  my  spokes  a  specimen  of  the  Mc- 
Donnell cyclom.,  for  which  he  was  the  agent,  "  in  order  that  I  might  give  it  a  fair  test  with  the 
Pope  cyclom.  on  ray  axle."  The  test  proved  its  worthlessness ;  but  I  have  often  recommended 
the  McDonnell,  since  then,  because  of  its  low  price  and  because  of  its  maker's  willingness  to 
ejxhange  defective  specimens  until  a  gocxl  one  is  finally  found.  If  any  one  thinks  my  action  in 
this  respect  has  been  affected  at  all  by  the  worthless  gift  of  '83,  I  grant  him  the  liberty  of  that 
opinion.  I  specify  these  two  examples,  trivial  though  they  seem,  in  order  the  more  impressively 
to  declare  that  I  have  taken  no  other  gifts  of  any  sort.  Whatever  things  I  have  wanted  in  Incy- 
cling,  I  have  bought  and  paid  for ;  and  such  other  things  as  have  been  tendered  to  me  I  have 
respectfully  declined.  I  have  twice  offered  to  test  new  styles  of  cyclometers,  and  puUidy 
report  my  careful  observations  (and  I  hereby  make  the  offer  a  general  one) ;  but  the  two  makera 
dldnot  consent.  A  third  style  I  tested,  at  the  maker's  request,  and  then  returned  it  to  him  as 
unsatisfactory,  though  accurate.  I  am  conscious,  therefore,  of  no  other  motive  or  inspiration 
than  a  simple  desire  to  tell  the  truth,  in  any  words  of  praise  or  blame  which  I  have  printed  in 
this  book.  In  statements  of  fact,  I  have  tried  to  be  colorless,  and  t  have  suppressed  nothing. 
In  references  to  machines,  I  have  mentioned  the  maker  whenever  known  to  roe.  In  quota- 
tions from  journals,  I  have  given  date  and  page.  In  all  cases  where  a  record  of  full  name, 
address  and  price  seemed  appropriate  or  useful,  I  have  taken  paias  to  freely  advertise  the  same. 


Need  ofpriv^e  help 
and  criticisms* 


My  refusal  to  admit  paid  advertisements  was  a  pledge  of  impar- 
tiality which  seemed  needed  for  the  attraction  of  subscriben;  but, 
besides  its  effect  in  convincing  readers  that  I  have  written  this  book 
solely  in  their  interest^  I  rely  upon  it  to  give  them  a  sort  of  feeling  of  personal  pride  as  "  copart- 
ners "  in  the  production  of  a  volume  whose  handsome  typography  is  unmarred  by  sudi  vulgari* 
ties.  By  proving  how  my  subscription  scheme  has  been  carried  through  without  any  sort  of 
subsidy  from  "  the  trade,"  and  how  slight  my  hope  is  of  help  from  the  same  in  pushing  future 
sales,  I  trust  this  truth  has  been  shown :  that  the  main  chance  of  any  reward  coming  to  me, 
from  three  years'  work  and  risk,  now  depends  upon  the  amount  of  good-will  and  enthusiasm 
which  the  book  may  be  able  to  arouse  in  its  3000  subscribers.  I  have  served  as  their  self-ap- 
pointed agent  in  doing  a  thing  which  no  one  else  in  the  world  had  power  to  do ;  and,  if  they 
shall  decide  that  it  was  worth  doing,  I  am  confident  they  will  individually  take  pleasure  in  he1|>> 
ing  ensure  the  enormous  sale  now  needed  to  pay  me  for  thus  serving  them.  By  exhibiting  the 
volume  to  librarians,  hotel-keepers  and  cycling  acquaintances,  they  may  advertise  it  in  a  mcM« 
effective  way  than  would  be  possible  by  any  expenditure  of  printer's  ink.  I  do  not  intend  to 
sell  through  the  bookstores,  for  the  price  has  been  put  too  low  for  the  payments  of  commissions 
to  middle-men,  but  I  shall  bend  all  my  energy  to  the  pursuit  of  direct  buyers  through  the  mails, 
— sending  contents-table,  preface  and  other  specimen  pages  to  thousands  of  cyders.  I  shall 
also  print  for  them  "  opinions  of  the  press  and  of  subscribers" ;  and  this  intention  forms  one 
of  several  reasons  why  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  any  one  write  to  me  just  what  he  thinks  of  the 
book,  or  of  any  part  A  it.  I  ask  every  such  private  reviewer  to  say  what  his  preference  is, — in 
case  I  publish  any  of  his  remarks, — as  regards  attaching  to  them  his  full  name  and  residence, 
or  his  initials  and  dub,  or  his  League  number,  or  no  signature  whatever.    If  his  preference  is 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  715 

that  I  pubKsh  tione  of  his  remarks,  even  anonymously,  I  will  respect  that  also ;  bat  I  wish 
none  the  less  to  put  them  on  file.  I  specially  ui^e  that  errors  and  faults  be  called  to  my  atten- 
tion with  the  utmost  freedom.  I  mean  by  these  not  only  printers'  blunders,  misstatements  of 
fact,  and  defects  of  execution,  but  everything  which  to  the  mind  of  a  subscriber  seems  an  error 
of  judgment, — as  regards  omission,  as  well  as  commission.  In  other  words,  I  shall  feel  thankful 
to  any  .one  who  will  formulate  for  me  his  ideal  of  what  the  book,  or  any  part  of  it,  ought  to  have 
been ;  because  a  general  agreement  of  critics  concerning  objectionable  points  will  give  me  a 
valuable  warning  of  what  to  avoid  in  my  next  attempt  to  placate  the  same  patrons.  There  are 
three  questions  in  particular,  which  I  should  like  to  have  a  large  vote  cast  upon,  as  a  means  of 
informing  me  whether  subscribers  think  that  the  great  size  of  the  book  atones  for  its  long  delay ; 
that  the  three  extraneous  chapters  are  amusing  enough  to  justify  insertion ;  and  that  my  attempt 
at  persuading  3000  strangers  to  serve  as  volunteer  book-agents  is  likely  to  succeed.  As  I  have 
shown  that  the  plates  for  first  2 1  chapters  were  finished  in  June,  '85,  I  might  have  issued  the 
book  next  month,  with  alphabetical  sub.  list  as  Chap.  22,  and  thus  kept  inside  the  limit  of  350 
pp.  My  first  question,  therefore,  is  :  "  Are  you  sorry  that  I  did  not  stop  short,  and  give  you 
the  book  in  that  shape,  at  that  earliest  practicable  date  (Juiyi  '85),  rather  than  give  it  to  you 
now,  so  many  months  later,  completed  to  more  than  double  the  siae  ?  "  As  I  have  shown  that 
Chaps.  27,  38  and  39— which  add  82  pp.  without  adding  any  roaul-information  at  all — cost  306  h. 
of  work,  and  a  delay  of  2  mos.,  my  second  question  is  :  "  Does  their  insertion  repay  you  for 
that  delay,  and  does  it  seem  likely  to  be  effective  as  a  trick  for  arousing  outsiders'  curiosity  in 
bicycling  ? "  Finally,  I  ask  :  "  Are  you  interested  in  this  present  chapter's  attempt  to  take 
you  into  my  confidence  concerning  the  origin  and  growth  of  the  book,  the  plans  for  ensuring  Hs 
sale,  and  my  own  personal  history  and  philosophy,  as  connected  with  and  affected  by  the  same  ? 
Does  the  revelation  impress  you  as  possessed  of  any  '  potentiality,'  as  an  aq;^>eal  to  the  special 
sympathy  of  cyclers,  for  putting  money  in  my  purse  ? " 

My  labor  and  risk  as  "  publisher  "  are  what  I  seek  pay  for, — 
not  my  vrritings  as  "  author."  These,  in  their  original  form,  were 
almost  all  a  free  gift  to  the  public ;  and  it  seems  in  the  nature  of  things 
that  the  first  preparation  of  road-reports  should  have*  no  other  reward  than  the  sentimental 
one, — whether  they  are  prepared  for  the  cycling  press,  or  for  the  League's  official  road-books, 
or  for  use  by  a  private  publisher  like  myself.  The  experiment  which  I  am  engaged  upon  aims  to 
discover  whether  the  editing  and  publishing  of  such  reports,  on  an  extensive  and  expensive  scale, 
can  be  made  to  "  pay."  If  it  succeeds,  I  shall  at  once  begin  work  on  a  second  collection, — ^putting 
into  shape  a  great  mass  of  facts  which  I  vainly  hoped  to  insert  in  the  present  one,  and  inviting 
contributions  of  new  material  from  all  directions.  By  reason  of  experience  and  advertising 
already  gained,  such  book  can  be  put  together  with  much  less  labor  and  expense,  and  can  be 
kept  within  limits  which  will  allow  a  fair  profit  even  on  an  ed.  of  500a  I  trust  it  is  clear  that 
neither  the  present  vol.  nor  its  possible  successor  can  compete  or  conflict  at  all  with  the  official 
books  of  the  League.  The  field  is  boundless  and  the  sources  of  information  are  inexhaustible. 
No  amount  of  industry  can  ever  put  into  print  all  the  facts  which  it  is  desirable  to  know  about 
American  roads.  The  task  of  editing  such  facts,  even  when  prepared  in  tabular  form,  demands 
great  self-sacrifice  on  the  part  of  the  League's  unpaid  officers ;  while  my  own  plan  of  presenting 
them  in  narrative  form,  as  actually  observed  by  individual  tourists,  demands  that  the  editor  and 
compiler  should  "  simply  make  a  business  of  it,"  and  not  even  attempt  to  earn  his  livelihood  in 
any  other  way.  The  book  of  impersonal  statistics,  and  the  book  of  narrated  observations  con- 
nected by  enough  of  the  personal  element  to  make  it  readable,  each  has  its  special  function  and 
value ;  and  each  supplements  the  other.  I  recommend  every  reader  of  mine  to  procure  the 
local  road-books  and  guide-books  of  all  regions  where  he  travels ;  and  I  feel  sure  that  this  vol.  of 
mine  will  stimulate  rather  than  discourage  the  production  of  such  books.  Their  need  of  ignor- 
ing personal  details,  however,  tends  to  deprive  them  of  the  aid  of  possible  contributors ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  transitoriness  of  publicity  in  the  cycling  papers  almost  forbids  the  writing 
of  careful  reports  for  thtm.  A  tourist  feels,  as  regards  the  latter,  that  Ms  story  mnst  capture  all 
its  readers  within  a  single  week,  and  hence  can  do  very  little  permanent  good  to  the  came  ( 


Costs  and  conditions  of 
road-book  making. 


7i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

while,  as  regards  the  former,  his  patriotism  may  not  be  equal  to  the  strun  of  suppressing  all  in- 
cident and  individuality  for  the  greater  glory  of  pure  statistics.  But  even  if  tourists  would  write 
an  abundance  of  good  road-reports  for  a  given  journal,  any  attempt  to  print  them,  as  an  exclu- 
sive or  controlling  feature,  would  quickly  prove  fatal  to  its  prosperity.  My  history  of  cycling 
journals  has  shown  that  they  are  all,  of  necessity,  "  advertising  circulars,  supported  by  the 
trade  "  ;  and,  as  trade  policy  promotes  racing  rather  than  touring,  no  journal  devoted  to  the  lat- 
ter could  make  money.  Races  possess  the  element  of  "  news,"  and  tours  do  not.  Hence, 
while  the  veriest  tyro  of  the  pen  can  fling  together  a  race-report  which  will  attract  readers,  noth- 
ing short  of  genius  can  fashion  so  prosaic  a  thing  as  a  road-report  into  such  shape  as  to  be  gen- 
erally attractive.  "  When  you  talk  to  a  man  of  touring,  there  is  so  little  to  say,  that  he  regards 
it  as  a  very  dull  pastime, — until  he  once  tries  it.  I  suppose  there  are  a  few  writers  who  could 
make  a  report  of  a  tour  sufficiently  interesting  to  rouse  public  interest ;  but  such  men  are  very 
scarce  and  should  command  big  salaries.*'  The  quoted  words  are  those  of  an  enthusiastic  tour- 
ist (B.  B.  Ayers,  in  Am.  Wheelman^  Aug.,  *86,  p.  7);  and  I  support  their  underlying  idea  by 
saying  that,  if  one  of  those  "  few  writers  "  ever  did  in  fact  prepare  a  touring  sketch  which  could 
be  called  "  readable  "  in  a  strict  literary  sense,  I  never  had  the  happiness  to  read  it.  The 
power  of  compelling  "  the  general  reader,"  who  is  indifferent  about  cycling,  to  take  an  inter- 
est in  such  a  sketch,  is  a  power  I  do  not  pretend  to  possess;  and  I  know  of  no  one  else  who 
possesses  it  I  simply  claim  for  myself  that  a  quarter-century's  training  as  "  a  snapper-up  <rf 
unconsidered  trifles,"  has  given  me  a  certain  exceptional  skill  for  editing  and  compiling  road-re- 
ports, in  a  concise  and  instructive  manner  which  is  calculated  to  please  bicycle  tourists.  If  the 
cyclers  of  the  country  decide  that  that  skill  ought  henceforth  to  be  employed  exclusively  for  their 
benefit,  I  had  just  as  soon  sell  it  to  them  as  to  any  one  else. 

My  painstaking  style  of  compilation  is  shown  in  Qsapa. 

30-32 ;  and  I  have  said  that  those  (pp.  473-554)  cost  me  2  mos. 

of  256  h.,  in  addition  to  the  enormous  labor  of  collecting  the 
material.  I  tried  there  to  give  each  man's  story  in  his  own  peculiar  fashion,  while  at  the  same 
time  largely  recasting  each,  after  a  fashion  of  my  own.  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  each  subscriber 
give  me  his  opinion  as  to  whether  those  three  chapters  repay  him  for  the  delay  they  caused  the 
book.  I  may  have  been  foolish  in  promising  to  insert  such  chapters,  and  in  promising  to  prepare 
a  history  of  wheel  literature ;  but,  after  attracting,  by  those  promises,  a  great  quantity  of  mss., 
maps,  pamphlets,  papers  and  books  (to  say  nothing  of  subscribers),  I  was  in  duty  bound  to  ful- 
fill them.  A  similar  remark  will  apply  to  various  other  features  of  the  book,  which  1  never 
should  have  promised  if  I  could  have  foreseen  their  cost.  In  fact,  I  should  never  have  under- 
taken it  at  all,  if  I  'd  had  the  faintest  conception  that  it  was  to  be  so  big.  I  simply  could  n*t  have 
lived  through  these  three  years,  except  for  my  unreasonable  hopefulness ;  for  this  continually  had 
power  to  deceive  me  as  to  my  capacity  for  speed  in  "  getting  to  the  end."  Yet  even  my  actual 
speed  would  have  been  impossible,  save  under  the  inspiration  of  seeing  my  chapters  go  into 
type  as  fast  as  written,  and  of  feeling  the  printers'  prod  always  at  my  heels.  There  must  needs 
be  danger  to  an  author  in  publishing  his  own  book,  and  an  especial  danger  in  fixing  a  pri^  for 
it,  and  beginning  to  print,  before  the  whole  is  written ;  but  it  is  evident  that  my  own  could  have 
been  produced  in  no  other  way.  The  bigness  of  it,  too,  seems  a  sort  of  business  necessity,  ixx 
an  adv.;  because,  since  I  am  debarred  from  praising  the  quality  of  my  own  work,  there  is  need 
of  a  chance  for  proclaiming  its  quantity,  as  a  fact  extraordinary  enough  to  command  attentioa. 
Similarly,  I  felt  forced  to  collect  and  print  all  the  "wheeling  biographies"  within  reach,  in 
order  to  show  that  my  own  biog^phy  was  put  into  the  book  as  a  mere  matter  of  business,  and 
not  at  all  for  vanity.  I  am  thus  enabled  to  declare  that,  even  if  all  the  pages  which  concern 
myself  and  my  travels  be  disregarded,  enough  others  will  remain  to  make  the  vol.  worth  its  price 
to  any  wheelman  who  cares  at  all  about  roads  and  tours  and  tourists.  Hence,  too,  I  plan  to 
have  my  own  travels  and  personality  hold  a  much  less  prominent  place  in  the  next  book  ;  and  to 
give  it  greater  variety,  by  devoting  most  of  its  space  to  the  lives  and  explorations  of  other  push- 
ers of  the  wheel.  I  plan  to  have  it  contain  not  less  than  300  pp.  (of  same  size  as  the  present, 
but  with  little  or  none  of  the  present  fine  type) ;  to  have  it  indexed  even  better  than  this  book ; 


Proposals  for  **My  Second 
Ten  Thousand^'* 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.         -ji-j 

mtxclude  all  u^nrliKiDcrilg ;  touauci(  in  1890;  and  ioh}L  it  for  f  1.50, — except  to  (hue  who 
give  me  50  c- worth  of  "mora]  Hupport'^  by  pJedging  ^1  in  idraace.  Perhaps  I  may  prim  AQ 
Alphabetical  list  of  luch  auppottera ;  but  I  do  not  promne  !l,  or  promue  any  other  "  [rills " 
which  might  jet  itie  into  Irouhle.    Eiery  reader  whom  the  preMnl  vol.  ple»M,  enough  to  make 

ft  (or  "My  Second  Ten  Thwiund"  (or.  for  ihort,  "iX.  M."),  ai  oallined  above,  with  the 
undersunding  that  be  can  revoke  Ihe  pledge  at  pleutire.  and  (hat,  if  the  actual  book  nhall  not 
please  him.  he  can  return  it  instead  of  paying  for  it.  Thus,  by  incurring  a  merely  nominal  ob- 
li^adan,  which  any  change  of  will  miul  release,  he  can  help  me  10  dedde  whether  !i  is  worth 
white  to  attempt  a  second  experiment  as  a  publisher-  I  shall  be  glad  to  receive  luggestiong 
and  opiDJons,  as  10  what  ought  tr>go  in  or  be  kept  out  of  the  proposed  book  ^  and  I  specially  want 
to  know  whether  readers  prefer  larger  type  than  the  largest  (brevier)  uwd  in  the  present  one. 

"'""'f^  -  I  early  in  '87,  no  matter  if  it  only  amounts  to  ya  m-     I  wish  to  have 

their  mileage  ^veaby  months;  an  estimate  of  the  year's  "separate  miles  of  road,'*  asdislin- 
gutted  from  mites  of  repetition  on  the  same  road ;  a  report  of  all  tours  of  ijo  m.  or  more  (with 

years,  f  ash  each  reporter  to  tell  every  detail  he  can,  good  or  bad,  for  t  want  to  make  an  cx- 

pages,  by  many  observers,  (he  index  shows  10  be  greater  than  exists  elsewhere  \  and  the  rea- 
sons why  such  testimony  cannot  appearin  the  cycling  press  may  be  found  in  the  AiAfiii'f  report 
(Sept.  18,  'tb,  p.  jo<)  of  the  League  officers'  discussion  which  led  them  to  reaffirm  the  policy  of 
"aviHding  trouble  with  advertisers."  by  excluding  alt  mention  of  their  wares  from  the  literary 
columns  of  that  paper.  Every  American  who  has  ridden  too  m.  of  separate  road  in  14  h.  (either 
straightaway  or  in  a  circuit),  or  35  m.  straightaway  wilhoul  dismount ;  or  who  has  taken  a  tour 
of  300  m..  or  a  straightaway  lour  of  asam.,or  who  has  explored  100  m.  of  jnreported  roads, 
is  requested  to  supply  me  with  exact  dates  and  details.  On  p.  485  and  p.  497  may  be  found 
good  models  for  touring  reports. —their  condensed  statistics  being  given  at  the  outset,  and  then 
their  general  remarks,  with  bade  references.  Contributors  of  such  special  reports,  and  of  gen- 
eral mileage  records  for  'A6,  are  invited  to  observe  the  following  rules ;  Write  on  only  one  side 
of  paper ;  begin  6rat  page  with  full  name  and  residence,  occupation  or  profession,  and  exact 

size  and  make  of  wheels  ridden,  and  approximate  inile^e  of  each  ;  also  annual  mileage  previous 
to  'S6,  or  previous  to  the  date  of  the  event  reported.  The  foregrnng  suggestions  are  in  no  sense 
complete  or  exclusive.  In  general,  my  wish  is  that  each  contributor  should  tell  all  that  he 
thinks  would  interest  other  wheelmen ;  and  a  good  my  fat  hun  to  decide  about  this  is  to  reflect 
upon  the  facts  and  style  of  others'  reports,  in  this  book  or  elsewhere,  which  have  been  of  chief 
interest  to  himself.  My  own  aim,  in  describing  a  tour,  is,  as  said  in  the  Preface,  to  give  just 
(hat  sort  of  information  abou 
The  dates  of  touts  are  impo 
Condition  of  wind  and  weathi 

the  roads-  If  a  skilful  rider  c 
fairly  ridable  by  every  one- 

which  frui  be  covered  withou 
fact.  So  far  as  concerns  rep 
am  of  filing  his  atatisiica.    I 


Hints  to  authors  and 
publishers. 


718  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

purpose.  So  few  riders  use  cydometers,  that  there  is  no  danger  of  my  being  orerwhehned  by 
the  multitude  of  replies.  Men  whose  records  appear  in  this  book  are  urged  to  correct  them  for 
me  at  the  close  of  '86,  and  give  birthdays,  if  not  already  given.  All  correspondents  who  may 
refuse  the  latter  request  will  please  say  "  age  declined,"  in  order  to  show  that  the  omission 
is  intentional.  All  who  object  to  having  their  contributions,  or  parts  thereof,  printed  in  cycling 
press,  or  in  any  particular  paper,  in  advance  of  insertion  in  "  a  X.  M.,"  will  please  so  spedfy. 
Otherwise,  I  shall  feel  free  to  put  them  to  such  preliminary  use. 

"  Reciprocation,"  I  trust,  will  be  the  rule  adopted  towards  me 

by  all  to  whom  I  have  given  a  free  adv.  in  the  previous  chapter. 

Whenever  new  books  or  eds.  of  theirs  may  offer  the  chance,  I  hope 
they  will  reprint  the  words  of  my  title-page,  and  announce  briefly  the  size,  style  and  scope  of 
my  book, — even  though  they  refrain  from  adopting  the  larger  policy  of  giving  similar  treatment 
to  all  cycling  J>ooks  known  to  be  in  the  market.  Quite  aside  from  this,  however,  I  ask  that 
each  author  and  publisher  named  in  the  chapter  should  send  me  corrections  of  any  ctfots  made 
there,  and  should  remedy  omissions.  Birthdays  are  also  desired.  I  wish  to  receive  advance 
announcements  of  all  new  cycling  books  and  pamphlets,  and  the  things  themselves  when  issued 
If  my  prospective  adv.  thereof,  in  cycling  press  and  later  eds.,  does  not  seem  worth  the  trouble. 
I  suggest  that  at  least  the  title-page,  and  a  statement  of  size,  style  and  price,  should  be  filed  with 
me  in  every  case.  I  offer  a  similar  wish  and  suggestion  to  publishers  of  guide-books,  maps  and 
pictures  which  may  be  assumed  to  have  a  special  interest  to  wheelmen.  I  assure  every  cycle 
dealer  who  sends  me  his  catalogue  or  price-list  that  it  shall  be  carefully  preserved ;  but  I  hope 
nothing  of  the  sort  will  hereafter  be  printed  which  does  not  at  least  freely  reproduce  the  words 
of  my  title-page.—even  though  space  forbids  the  use  of  my  freely-offered  electrotype,  giving  a 
condensed  adv.  of  all  the  wheeling  books  and  papers  in  the  market  (see  p.  655).  Adv.  circalar!^ 
of  new  cycling  books,  which  are  small  and  light  enough  to  be  easily  folded  m  my  own  circulars 
without  an  increase  of  postage,  I  am  willing  to  freely  distribute  thus, — and  I  shall  be  specially 
"  willing  "  if  a  brief  adv.  of  my  own  book  be  first  printed  on  the  margin.  Writers  who  tta<. 
pseudonyms  in  the  cycling  press  are  invited  to  help  me  compile  a  list  thereof  for  publication,— 
appending  to  each  the  owner's  real  name,  the  date  of  his  birth,  the  meaning  of  the  nomdephtmc, 
if  it  has  any,  and  the  dates  of  its  adoption  and  use. 


The  cycling  press  and 
its  "free  adv.'' 


There  are  not  many  )oumalists-of-the-wheel  towards  whom,  a' 
this  late  day,  it  seems  needful  that  I  should  shout  the  slogan  of  tl 
Siddall's  soap  advertiser  :  "  Don't  be  a  clam  I  "   There  are  not  roar. 
whose  minds  run  in  a  groove  of  si|ph  case-hardened  impenetrability  to  new  ideas  as  utterly  to  dc  - 
the  existence  of  a  "  certain  something  "  in  my  scheme  which  lifts  it  a  little  above  the  commo 
and  demands  for  it  a  somewhat  exceptional  treatment.    Yet  it  is  fitting  that  I  should  fonnu!. ' 
the  logic  of  my  position  with  a  plainness  that  can  leave  no  pretext  for  misrepresenting  it, — c^-' 
to  the  stupidest  of  mortals.    Let  me  then  declare,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  vital  objection  to  wir 
is  called  "  free  advertising  "  (/.  «.,  an  interpolation,  amid  a  journal's  ordinary  reading-matter, 
facts  and  opinions  designed  to  further  some  private  scheme  or  interest)  is  its  usual  lack  of  t! 
"  readable  "  quality.    Readers  are  not  interested  in  such  stuff,  because  its  boaatfulness  offc 
their  sense  of  justice.    They  instinctively  resent  self-praise ;  and  a  covert  attempt  of  Smith 
wheedle  them  into  the  belief  that  his  wares  are  better  than  the  similar  ones  of  Brown,  is  c^ 
cially  obnoxious.     No  one  likes  puffery  or  attempted  deception  ;  and  I  think  tradesmen  of  < 
make  a  mistake,  even  in  their  big-type  advs.,  in  trifling  with  the  intelligence  of  possible  patrr- 
by  speaking  too  well  of  themselves.    But  no  such  mistake  has  been  made  by  me  in  my  tlu 
years'  tiresome  campaign  as  a  free  advertiser ;  and  it  will  not  be  made  in  the  future.     I  h 
tried  to  arouse  public  attention  and  curiosity  by  ringing  all  possible  changes  on  Uti/t/acis  of 
case ;  but  I  have  printed  not  a  line  in  praise  of  the  scheme,  nor  have  I  sought  to  inspire  - 
printing  by  others.    Indeed,  by  preference,  I  would  have  suppressed  certain  flattery  which  ot 
have  volunteered  to  print.    Sincere  praise  is  always  sweet  to  the  object  of  it ;  but  I  do  no  s 
Ueve  that  an  uncritical  promulgation  thereof  is  good  business  policy.    The  Athenians  got  tir 
hearing  their  great  general  and  law-giver,  Aristides,  everlastingly  called  "  the  Just,"  though 


Haw  T  got  leisure 
far  touring. 


720  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

editors  should  help  repay  me  by  allowing  an  advertising  tag  tacked  on  to  such  oontributions  ? 
Finally,  as  regards  the  official  organ  of  the  League, — since  I  have  mentioned  some  hostility  as 
once  shown  me  there  because  of  my  non-membership, — ^it  seems  fitting  to  present  a  special 
argument  which  cannot  apply  to  the  other  papers.  Though  I  might  plausibly  claim  that  its 
"  amateur  definition  "  renders  a  "  professional "  like  myself  ineligible  to  membership,  I  prefer 
to  urge  the  broader  truth  that  my  own  inflexible  rule,  of  refraining  from  membership  in  any 
human  association  whatever,  is  not  a  logical  pretext  for  the  League's  departing  from  stria 
business  principles  in  its  treatment  of  me.  If  I  had  ofiEered  to  "  swap  advertising  space  "  with 
the  BullettHf  page  for  page,  no  doubt  I  could  have  done  so ;  but  the  business  value  to  the 
League  of  the  "  free  adv.,"  which  I  have  preferred  to  give  it  instead,  is  not  lessened  at  all  by 
the  fact  of  my  position  as  an  outsider,  and  the  essential  justice  of  repaying  it  is  the  same  as 
under  a  formal  contract  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  the  BulUtit^s  past  treatment  of  me,  nor 
fears  of  unfairness  in  its  future  treatment ;  but  I  wish  to  provide  in  advance  against  any  senti- 
mental confusion  of  ideas  about  focts  which  have  no  connection.  As  a  business  man,  I  have 
an  incomparably  greater  stake  in  the  success  of  the  League  than  any  of  its  officers  can  ever 
have,  and  I  am  bound  to  use  every  chance  in  my  reach  to  help  increase  its  prosperity ;  but  I 
wish  each  member  to  see  clearly  that  the  League,  as  a  business  institution,  is  bound  to  support 
me  without  any  swerving  from  the  rule  of  "  enlightened  self-interest"  • 

"  Mister,  you  must  be  all-fired  ridi;  ain't  you,  now?"  is  a  ques- 
tion recorded  in  one  of  Kirk  Munroe's  canoeing  sketches  (ff^A«ir/jM»ff, 
Dec.,  '83,  p.  220),  as  put  by  a  specially  blunt  and  inquisitive  rustic  to  a 
young  city  man,  who  in  fact  earned  a  precarious  livelihood  at  new!^per  work.  It  was  his 
ownership  of  a  $150  canoe,  in  which  he  presumed  to  take  a  brief  vacation  voyage,  that  thiu  in- 
flamed the  rural  imagination  into  glorifying  him  as  a  millionaire ;  and  the  glitter  of  a  nickel- 
plated  bicycle  often  has  the  same  funny  efiEect,  in  the  backwoods,  as  suggested  on  p.  7.  I  call 
such  misapprehension  "  funny,"  because  cheapness  is  one  of  the  distinctive  recommendations 
of  each  conveyance, — ^because  each  is  really  a  "  poor  man's  pleasure-carriage."  My  sense  of 
humor  has  therefore  had  great  gratification  in  recognizing  that  innocently-written  reports  of  in- 
expensive bicycle  travels  somehow  caused  people  to  look  upon  me  as  a  creature  of  vast  wealth 
and  illimitable  leisure.  I  have  never  been  such  a  person  in  fact ;  but,  on  the  other  band,  I 
have  always  had  enough  of  both  those  very  desirable  things  to  make  me  feel  loath  to  sacrifice  any 
of  the  latter  in  order  to  attempt  an  increase  of  the  former.  I  have  always  been  an  industrious 
man,  but  have  designedly  limited  ray  field  of  money-making, — ^as  the  only  sure  device  for  avoid- 
ing the  danger  of  overwork.  When  I  established  myself  here  in  the  big  city,  on  the  first  day  of 
autumn  in  '76,  I  brought  with  me  a  long-considered  plan  for  making  a  weekly  appeal  to  college 
interests  through  the  columns  of  some  existing  new^nper ;  and  I  very  soon  persuaded  the  ed- 
itor of  the  World  (who  knew  me  not  from  Adam)  to  take  stock  in  my  scheme,— so  that  an  en- 
gagement resulted  which  lasted  a  trifle  more  than  6  years.  In  every  Monday's  issue,  I  printed 
2  or  3  columns  called  "  College  Chronicle  " ;  and  the  vast  and  varied  mass  of  correspondence 
and  college  journals  which  formed  the  raw-material  for  this,  was  all  addressed  to  roe,  at  my  pri- 
vate abode,  as  "  IVorld's  Coll.  Chron."  Hence,  when  I  began  to  write  about  bicycling  in 
'79i  I  varied  this  signature  to  "  Kol  Kron  " ;  and  when  the  World  decided,  in  the  autumn  of 
'82,  that  it  had  no  further  use  for  any  College  Chronicler,  I  expanded  the  "  Kol  "  to  "  Karl,** 
and  explained  the  change,  with  some  detail,  on  p.  230  of  Dec.  Wheelman^  which  I  think  first 
printed  the  revised  version.  Now,  my  usual  rule,  as  to  this  World  business,  was  to  work  at  it 
somewhat  on  6  days  of  every  week,— for  it  was  a  very  laborious  department,  in  spite  of  its 
limited  size, — ^but  I  was  never  obligtd  to  work  on  any  given  day ;  and,  if  I  chose  to  do  double 
work  on  a  given  week,  I  could  win  the  following  week  for  leisure.  During  the  summer  vaca- 
tion of  the  colleges,  in  particular,  when  no  letters  or  papers  needed  reading,  I  could  easily  shove 
my  work  3  or  4  weeks  ahead,  and  roam  where  I  pleased  for  that  interval.  Hence  it  was  that  so 
unusual  a  proportion  of  my  bicycling  took  the  form  of  touring.  I  was  freed  from  the  local 
limitations  of  most  workers ;  and  so  I  was  very  apt  to  stay  at  least  a  day  in  the  saddle  whenever 
I  mounted  at  all.    But  even  in  my  most  extended  journeys,  I  was  drawing  a  lalaiy  all  the  while. 


**  World**  experiences  as* 
a  non-competitar. 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  721 

and  was  earning  it ;  for  the  good-luck  in  my  case  was  merely  an  ability  to  so  adapt  the  usual 
hours  of  work  and  play  as  to  take  each  in  large  doses. 

I  do  not  pretend  to  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  philosophy 
which  sa3rs  that  men  are  better-natured  than  women,  "  because 
they  only  hate  those  other  men  who  are  in  the  same  occupation 
as  themselves,  whereas  women,  having  only  one  occupation,  all  hate  each  other " ;  but  the 
bitterness  of  men's  business  rivalries  is  a  commonplace  of  every-day  observation.  Reflecting 
upon  this,  and  upon  the  exceptional  smoothness  with  which  I  have  managed  to  get  through 
life,  I  conclude  that  the  reason  for  it  must  be  attributed  to  my  skill  in  steering  such  a  coarse, 
amid  the  mass  of  my  fellow-humans,  as  to  keep  out  of  competition  with  them.  If  I  have 
always  been  wayward,  my  '*  way  "  has  rarely  had  the  ill-luck  to  cross  or  interfere  with  any  one 
else's.  Thus,  as  my  weekly  chronicle  in  the  World  was  the  only  thing  of  its  sort  in  existence,  it 
could  arouse  the  hostDity  of  no  other  paper  {  and,  as  no  standard  of  compatison  was  in  reach  of 
the  office-editors,  by  which  they  could  prove  any  relative  failure  in  my  work,  they  were  forced 
to  print  every  shred  of  copy  I  sent  in  to  them, — as  inexorably  as  if  I  were  the  editor-in-chief, — up 
to  the  limit  that  had  been  fixed  for  my  special  department.  In  those  days,  the  World  Yna  a 
faurly  respectable  paper,  as  shown  by  its  having  a  much  smaller  circulation  than  any  other  morn- 
ing daily  in  the  dty ;  but  all  the  office-editors  abhorred  my  chronicle,  because  of  its  cast-iron 
clutch  on  two  columns  of  their  Monday's  space, — restricting,  to  that  extent,  their  power  to  pub- 
lish genuine  "  news,"  of  universal  human  interest :  such  as  murders,  hangings,  robberies, 
mpc9,  assaults,  seductions,  scandals  and  all  the  rest.  It  is  by  a  thoroughly  business-like  devo- 
tion to  these  demands  of  the  popular  appetite,  that  the  new  owner  of  the  World  has,  in  three 
years,  pushed  its  circulation  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  notch,  so  that  it  is  now  far  in  advance 
of  all  the  other  daily  police-gazettes  which  adorn  metropolitan  journalism.  The  limit  of  that 
advance,  indeed,  is  in  those  shadowy  regions  which  are  penetrable  only  to  the  vision  of  the 
affidavit-makers  who  are  kept  busily  employed  in  heralding  it.  I  record  these  facts  without  any 
personal  Irias,  for  the  change  of  ownership  did  not  happen  until  a  half-year  after  my  own  depart- 
ment of  the  World  was  suppressed,  though  I  suppose  such  suppression  was  really  a  significant 
straw,  showing  that  the  money-losing  policy  of  "  trying  to  be  respectable  "  was  nearing  the 
point  of  abandonment.  I  never  cherished  any  illusions  as  to  the  relative  importance  of  my 
chronicle,  or  assumed  for  it  any  attractive  value  outside  the  special  class  to  whom  it  appealed. 
Whether  the  chance  of  placating  this  intangible  sentiment  of  collegiate  "  good-will "  were  worth 
the  price  I  put  upon  it  or  not,  was  a  simple  question^f-business  for  my  employer  to  consider. 
After  deciding  it  in  my  favor  for  6  years,  I  had  no  cause  for  offense  that,  on  the  7th,  when  a 
general  change  of  policy  was  imminent,  he  should  decide  it  against  me.  All  this  is  a  needed 
preliminary  to  saying  that,  though  a  general  cry  of  heart-felt  hilarity  went  up  in  the  World 
office,  over  the  long-hoped-f<v  death  of  my  much-hated  chronicle,  none  of  the  men  there  had 
any  particular  hostility  to  the  chronider.  They  saw  that  my  work  did  not  compete  with  any 
other,  that  I  was  not  in  the  line  of  promotion  to  any  place  which  they  wanted,  and  that  I  was 
not  employed  through  favoritism, — becaiise  I  led  a  life  which  was  as  much  apart  from  my 
employer's  as  from  their  own.  That  he  should  persist  so  long  in  wasting  so  much  space  on  such 
a  thing  as  the  chronicle,  seemed  to  them  an  unaccountable  freak ;  and  they  did  all  they  dared 
to  discourage  it ;  but  towards  me  personally  they  never  felt  any  envy  or  ill-will.  I  suppose, 
though,  that  their  impression  of  me  contained  a  tinge  of  indulgent  and  good-natured  contempt, 
**  such  as  we  instinctively  feel  on  reading  the  obituary  of  a  successful  man-of-the-wor1d  who  has 
just  ceased  to  live."  There  was  a  sort  of  gratification  to  thdr  self-love  in  contemplating  the 
case  of  a  worker  whose  toil  brought  so  much  smaller  results  than  might  have  resulted  if  their 
own  superior  sagadty  had  directed  the  line  of  its  operation.  I  presume  that  a  similar  senti- 
ment towards  me  would  be  aroused  in  the  mind  of  almost  any  "  average  busines»-man  "  who 
might  take  the  trouble  to  inform  himself,  by  a  careful  reading  of  the  present  chapter,  as  to  the 
enormous  amount  of  labor  "  needlessly  and  hopelessly  wasted  "  upon  this  book.  But  T  think 
that  such  reading  must  also  convince  any  one  that  I  am  enough  of  an  Emersonian  to  "  rely  con- 
fidently on  that  Older  of  the  universe  which  makes  it  always  really  worth  while  to  do  our 
I  46 


732 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


beat,  even  though  the  reward  may  not  be  visible,"  and  that  I  "  have  eelf-relianoe  enough  to 
trust  my  own  convictions,  and  my  own  gifts,  such  as  they  are,  or  such  as  they  may  become,  with- 
out either  echoing  the  opinions  or  desiring  the  more-brilliant  gifts  of  others."  I  think,  too, 
that  if  one  who  had  known  me  familiarly  since  childhood  were  to  try  to  convey  his  conception  of 
roe  in  brief  phrase,  he  might  well  use  the  formula  by  which  Andrew  Lang  characterizes  Molitee : 
*'  a  man  who  sought  for  the  permanent  element  of  life  in  divtrtiuttmtU  ;  in  the  pleasure  of 
looking  on,  a  spectator  of  the  accidents  of  existence,  an  observer  of  the  follies  of  mankind."  I 
hope  I  may  always  be  accredited  with  humor  enough  to  laugh  at  my  own  follies  also ;  but  my 
ability  to  convince  certain  people  that  I  am  a  looker-on,  rather  than  a  competitM-  in  their  strug- 
gles for  existence,  is  the  essential  thing  on  which  the  success  of  this  book  seems  to  depend. 


"Elective**  honors 
of  college,     , 


Still  earlier  evidence  of  my  willingness  to  let  other  men  win  all  the 
high  prises  around  roe  was  shown  in  the  production  of  my  book  about 
Yale,  which  fulfilled  very  acceptably  the  function  that  I  designed  it  for, 
and  crowded  out  nothing  else  to  make  a  place  for  itself ,— though  the  chance  had  been  waiting  a 
quarter<entury  or  more,  for  some  one  else  to  improve  it.  My  four  years'  course  of  undergrade' 
ate  study  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  the  pursuit  of  "  honors"  offered  by  the  Faculty,  and  I 
accorded  no  more  respect  to  their  "  marking-system  "  than  was  necessary  for  simply  "  keeinng 
in  the  class."  I  was  quite  satisfied  to  stand  at  the  foot,  by  reason  of  studying  after  an  "  elect- 
ive system,"  of  my  own,  though  knowing  that  the  same  amount  of  work  expended  for  the  capt- 
ure of  "  marks  "  would  have  won  me  a  respectable  rank.  In  those  days,  so  years  ago,  while 
I  was  of  very  small  account  in  the  official  world  of  college,  I  had  great  repute  in  a  certain  still 
smaller  world,  as  an  authority  on  a  certain  small  science  called  "  philately."  All  wdl-read 
votaries  of  this,  throughout  England  and  Canada  as  well  as  the  United  States,  recognised  my 
initials  as  representing  "  the  most  eminent  living  writer  on  the  subject  of  American  postage- 
stamps."  Now,  this  well-won  but  entirely  secret  fame,  which  interfered  with  no  other  creat- 
ure's complacency,  seemed  much  pleasanter  to  me  than  a  certainty  of  capturing  the  highest 
prise  could  have  seemed,  if  I  had  cared  to  co«i^>ete  with  the  midnight-oil-buming  section  of  my 
classmates,  who  were  "seeking  reputation's  bubble  at  the  Prex's  mouth."  My  pleasure  was 
increased  by  knowing  that  even  the  existence  of  "  philaUely's  "  world-spread  science  and  litera* 
ture  was  quite  unknown  to  these  learned  instructors,  who  sedately  recorded  the  grades  of  glofy 
due  to  such  ambitious  youth  as  best  "  caught  on  to  "  their  own  professorial  crotchets. 

Similarly,  the  fascination  attending  certain  explorations  in  genealogy, 
which  I  gave  a  good  many  off-hours  to,  during  a  half-doxen  yean,  was 
intensified  by  knowing  how  incomprehensible  it  seems  to  most  peopk, 
and  how  generally  ignorant  even  the  best<educated  are  in  regard  to  the  commonness  of  sudi  in- 
vestigations and  the  abundance  of  the  material  for  them.  I  wished  some  one  else  bad  taken 
pains  to  collect  my  ancestral  tablets  in  advance  of  me ;  and  a  belief  that  no  one  else  would  ever 
be  likely  to  do  it  was  what  induced  me  to  volunteer  as  family  historian.  Nothing  can  be  sillier 
than  the  off-hand  opinion  of  the  unreflecting  that  the  bent  of  such  compilations  is  "  undemo- 
cratic" On  the  contrary,  they  are  the  outcome  of  a  strictly  scientific  spirit ;  and  their  most  im- 
pressive lesson  is  the  one  hinted  at  on  p.  79,— the  utter  fatuity  of  supposing  that  "  a  pennaoent 
family  "  can  exist  in  any  such  shifting  social  structure  as  our  own.  Almost  all  the  first  aettleis 
in  this  country,  as  in  every  other,  were  poor  people  who  came  here  to  take  a  more-or-Ieas  de»> 
perate  chance  of  bettering  their  lots.  No  prosperous  American  of  to-day,  therefore,  is  likely  lo 
have  his  vanity  vastly  increased,  by  a  mere  ability  to  show  his  own  exact  line  of  descent  iram 
certain  ones  among  those  adventurous  emigrants ;  but,  in  various  other  ways,  such  knowledge 
has  value  and  interest.  The  study  of  genealogy  may,  on  its  sentimental  side,  be  fairiy 
sidered  as  in  the  line  of  the  Scriptural  command,  "  Honor  thy  parents  " ;  and,  on  its 
side,  as  enjoined  by,  "  Know  thyself."  The  man  whose  name  I  have  inherited  through  six 
generations  was  among  the  earliest  settlera  in  Springfield,  where  I  was  born ;  and  the  ohm 
whose  name  my  mother  inherited  through  six  generations  was  one  of  the  fonndeit  oC  N«ir 
Haven,  where  she  was  bom ;  and  all  my  intermediate  anceston  of  those  two  namee  1 
entire  lives  in  those  two  places.    In  general,  the  same  may  be  said  in  regard  to  my 


Illustrations  from 
genealogy. 


rmS  BOOK  OF  mine,  and  the  next.  7,3 

tfl  01h«r  BAma,  during  thii  period  of  130  yean, — I  have  dHCDrered  (bat  they  lived  ud  died  id 
<iiM  ot  Ihe  other  ol  IboK  two  lyiucal  yajikee  leldemenli  in  Muuchuieiu  and  ConnecticuL 
Every  pcTion'A  proteeiton  of  the  /th  |;>DCTalJoD  pfcceding  neceuariJy  npreaeoud  iifi  fAiqiiiee, 
la  which  the  degree  »i  hil  leladoiuhip  is  juit  the  ume  u  10  the  one  family  (FhOM  name  he 
bean;  ibougb,  iacoBkBADa  talk  about  auchacaae,  Ihe  117  famiUei,  or  moat  of  them,  are  apl  to 
be  ignored.  Hereditary  influeDcee,  howeveTi  pay  no  regard  to  Domuial  dialinctioDi ;  and  a  maia 
nbo  wishca  to  geueraliae  about  thcin  in  hi*  own  C4ae(f'/.j  tocetimate  hie  chances  of  Longevity) 
i>  bound  to  procure  the  vital  Atatislio  of  a^  his  anceslDTsin  a  given  gEneiaiion.  The  difficulty 
of  doing  this,  in  New  England,  uraighl  bade  to  iu  hm  ■eiilcmeni  in  the  17th  century,  is  ml 

there  with  eaceptional  complaleaeia ;  resideocea  were  rarely  changed  in  the  eia  befoit  niJroad* ; 
and  the  piinled  family  genealogies  which  are  acceauble  in  public  libtariea  give  fads  abaul  nearly 
■1]  Ihe  early  population.  Hence,  though  I  ara  pleased  with  havingaaeurcdinyself  that,  as  noted 
on  p.  36,  *'  [  am  a  thoroughbred  Yankee  from  Yankeeville/*— that  I  am  a  true  son  of  the  soil, 
if  there  ever  waa  one,— the  remark  cooveya  do  implicatioD  thai  Ihouiands  of  others  could  not 
Kadity  prove  themselve*  liluwise,  if  they  chow  to  take  ihe  trouble,  ft  amuses  me  to  know  that 
my  lather's  family  name,  however  odd  or  obscure,  tias  flouii&faecl  in  England  ever  since  one  of 
WilLivn  the  Conqueror's  asaislanl^^imei  introduced  it  Iheie  in  1066;  and  that  my  mother's 

done  by  a  man  ol  my  name  in  this  country  was  Ihe  act  of  one  of  my  grandfalher^s  couiini,  who 
Lived  into  hia  loind  year.  He  lasted  so  long  because,  like  myself,  he  preferred  peace  and  a 
quiet  life.  He  worked  a  little  farm,  in  a  remote  "  hill  town  '*  on  the  Vemonl  Liotifer,  oul  of 
sight  of  a  railway ;  and  when  1  went  there  to  vini  him,  for  Ihe  first  and  last  time,  on  his  97lh 
lurthday,  hii  ulk  impressed  my  mind  with  Ihe  curious  conviction  tbu  f  myiell  had  already  lived 
much  longer  than  he  had  (judging  by  euent  and  variety  of  eapericncei),  though  coming  into  ihe 

aiJI  generatioTU  was  much  gnater  than  the  average  age  of  huraanily  in  genera],  and  ihat  every 
one  of  them  was  younger  at  the  dme  of  marriage  than  f  my«lf  now  am.     Bui  my  pleasure  in  all 

other  people,  but  from  their  power  (o  make  me  the  more  truly  understand  my  own  nalurt. 
PrtftritutM  malt  and  I         '",  ™l^;"»  »  "^ff  ■"  ■>«  P«"Pl«  -ho  have  home  »y 
-'  -'  ,  name,  I  knew  full  well  iJial  it  could  inlereil  only  ■  few  score  of 

'P"^  '^'"-  I  readers,  even  among  those  10  whom  the  name  belong.,     f  knew 

Ukat  my  otierancae  about  "philately"  were  qiiile  '*  caviare  to  the  generaL"  I  knewlhal  my 
book  atiout  undergraduate  life  and  customs  could  have  no  vogue  eacepi  among  Yale  men.  1 
knew  that  my  eiluiuetive  history  ol  inlercoLLegiale  b 
tweeD  the  covers  of  a  mighly  tome  never  opened  aace 
chronicle  in  the  Wtrid  would  be  scornfully  skipped  by  all  readers  not  of  academic  antecedenta* 
Yel  t  took  pains  with  all  these  matlcn,  and  was^uliiGed  with  them,  ticcuue  1  felt  Ihat  in  each 
field — fiowever  small — I  was  supreme  \  Ihat  no  one  else  wished  to  interfere  with  me,  or  could 
pretend  to  do  Ihe  same  work  as  well.  So,  now,  as  regards  the  present  l»ok :  experiment  only 
can  decide  whether  it  was  wisely  planned  to  pleaae  my  apeciaL  ttitiU*k ;  but  no  other  human 
could  have  planned  it,  because  none  other  has  had  my  own  peculiar  experiences ;  and  if  Ihe 


**EUctive^*  honors 

of  college,     , 


Illustrations  Jrom 
genealogy. 


^32  TEIV  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

best,  cren  though  the  reward  may  not  be  visible,"  and  that  I  "  have  self-reliance  enoui^  to 
trust  my  own  convictions,  and  my  own  gifts,  such  as  they  are,  or  such  as  they  may  become,  with- 
out either  echoing  the  opinions  or  desiring  the  more-brilliant  gifts  of  others."  I  think,  too, 
that  if  one  who  had  known  me  familiarly  since  childhood  were  to  try  to  convey  his  conception  of 
me  in  brief  pluase,  he  might  well  use  the  formula  by  which  Andrew  Lang  characterises  Molite : 
*'  a  man  who  sought  for  the  permanent  element  of  life  in  tUvtrtiuemtnt ;  in  the  pleasure  of 
looking  on,  a  spectator  of  the  accidents  of  existence,  an  observer  of  the  follies  of  mankind."  I 
hope  I  may  always  be  accredited  with  humor  enough  to  laugh  at  my  own  follies  also ;  but  my 
ability  to  convince  certain  people  that  I  am  a  looker-on,  rather  than  a  competitor  in  their  strug* 
gles  for  existence,  is  the  essential  thing  on  which  the  success  of  this  book  seems  to  depend. 

Still  earlier  evidence  of  my  willingness  to  let  other  men  win  all  the 
high  prizes  around  me  was  shown  in  the  production  of  my  book  about 
Yale,  which  fulfilled  very  acceptably  the  function  that  I  designed  it  for, 
and  crowded  out  nothing  else  to  make  a  place  for  itself ,— though  the  chance  had  been  waiting  a 
quarter-century  or  more,  for  some  one  else  to  improve  it.  My  four  years*  course  of  undersradaK 
ate  study  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  the  pursuit  of  "  honors  "  offered  by  the  Faculty,  and  I 
accorded  no  more  reqwct  to  their  "  marking-system  "  than  was  necessary  for  simply  "  keeping 
in  the  class."  I  was  quite  satisfied  to  stand  at  the  foot,  by  reason  of  studying  after  an  "  elect- 
ive system,"  of  my  own,  though  knowing  that  the  same  amount  of  work  expended  for  the  capt- 
ure of  "  marks  "  would  have  won  roe  a  respectable  rank.  In  those  days,  so  jrears  ago,  while 
I  was  of  very  small  account  in  the  official  world  of  college,  I  had  great  repute  in  a  certain  still 
smaller  world,  as  an  authority  on  a  certain  small  science  called  "  philately."  All  well-read 
votaries  of  this,  throughout  England  and  Canada  as  well  as  the  United  States,  recognised  my 
initials  as  representing  "  the  most  eminent  living  writer  on  the  subject  of  American  postage- 
stamps."  Now,  this  well-won  but  entirely  secret  fame,  which  interfered  with  no  other  creat- 
ure's oomplaicency,  seemed  much  pleasanter  to  me  than  a  certainty  of  capturing  the  hig^iest 
prise  could  have  seemed,  if  I  had  cared  to  compete  with  the  midnight-oil-bnming  section  of  my 
classmates,  who  were  "seeking  reputation's  bubble  at  the  Prex's  mouth."  My  pleasure  was 
increased  by  knowing  that  even  the  existence  of  "  philately's  "  world-spread  science  and  litera- 
ture was  quite  unknown  to  these  learned  instructors,  who  sedately  recorded  the  grades  of  f^ory 
due  to  such  ambitious  youth  as  best  "  caught  on  to  "  their  own  professorial  crotchets. 

Similarly,  the  fascination  attending  certain  explorations  in  genealogy, 
which  I  gave  a  good  many  off-hours  to,  during  a  half-dosen  yean,  was 
intensified  by  knowing  how  incomprehensible  it  seems  to  most  people, 
and  how  generally  ignorant  even  the  best-educated  are  in  regard  to  the  commonness  of  sudi  in- 
vestigations and  the  abundance  of  the  material  for  them.    I  wished  some  one  else  had  taken 
pains  to  collect  my  ancestral  tablets  in  advance  of  me ;  apd  a  belief  that  no  one  else  would  ever 
be  likely  to  do  it  was  what  induced  me  to  volunteer  as  family  historian.    Nothing  can  be  sflfier 
than  the  off-hand  opinion  of  the  unreflecting  that  the  bent  of  sqch  compilations  is  "  andenMK 
cratic."    On  the  contrary,  they  are  the  outcome  of  a  strictly  sdeotific  spirit ;  and  their  most  iai> 
preasive  lesson  is  the  one  hinted  at  on  p.  79, — the  utter  fotuity  of  supposing  that  "  a  pemanent 
family  "  can  exist  in  any  such  shifting  social  structure  as  our  own.    Almost  all  the  first  scttleM 
in  this  country,  as  in  every  other,  were  poor  people  who  came  here  to  take  a  roore<Mr-leis  det* 
perate  chance  of  bettering  their  lots.    No  prosperous  American  of  to^iay,  therefore,  is  likely  lb 
have  his  vanity  vastly  increased,  by  a  mere  ability  to  show  his  own  exact  line  of  descent  baa. 
certain  ones  among  those  adventurous  emigrants ;  but,  in  various  other  ways,  such  knowledtf 
has  value  and  interest.    The  study  of  genealogy  may,  on  its  sentimental  side,  be  fairly 
sidered  as  in  the  line  of  the  Scriptural  command,  "  Honor  thy  parents  " ;  and,  00  its 
side,  as  enjoined  by,  "  Know  thyself."    The  man  whose  name  I  have  inherited  through  ii     >- 
generations  was  among  the  earliest  settlers  in  Springfield,  where  I  was  bora ;  and  the  Mt      -  -^ 

whose  name  my  mother  inherited  through  six  generations  was  one  of  the  foonders  of  N«  *      ^      "-^ 
Haven,  where  she  was  bom ;  and  all  my  intermediate  ancestors  of  those  two  names  spent  tki      ^ 
entire  lives  in  those  two  places.    In  general,  the  same  may  be  said  in  regard  to  my  anccetoiti  * 


■»*( 


I 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT         727 

•elves  and  what  they  amount  to  when  "  out  of  harness.''  AH  this  has  happened  in  "  the  regu- 
lar order  of  business,"— in  the  appointed  drift  of  my  life, — and  not  because  I  ever  thought  any 
of  them  worth  "  running  after,"  or  ever  desired  to  boast  of  their  acquaintanceship.  As  the 
atmosphere  of  feminine  adulation  in  which  a  clergyman  must  needs  pass  most  of  his  life,  almost 
inevitably  gives  him  that  "  certain  air  of  condescension  "  which  a  man-of-the-world  resents,  so 
the  general  deference  paid  to  all  other  "  people  at  the  top  "  is  apt  to  get  them  into  a  mental 
habit  which  is  ruf&ed  a  little  by  a  new-comer  who  "begins  business"  without  swinging  any 
preliminary  incense.  I  can't  remember  when  I  was  ever  young  enough  to  feel  the  slightest  awe 
in  the  presence  of  any  human  being ;  though,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  always  been  ready  to 
accord  whatever  respect  attaches  to  silence,  when  in  the  presence  of  a  being  whose  manner 
showed  an  indisposition  to  encourage  my  talk  on  a  plane  of  absolute  personal  equality.  The 
idea  of  trying  to  "  force  a  recognition  "  from  anybody,  never  occurs  to  me ;  for  my  mind  cannot 
grasp  the  notion  of  any  value  attaching  to  such  "  recognition."  The  proverbial  cat  that  "  may 
look  upon  a  king,"  judges  the  king,  as  he  judges  the  king's  lackey,  with  sole  and  impartial  ref- 
erence to  the  influence  which  each  has  upon  the  comfort  of  himself,  the  cat ;  and,  under  similar 
provocation,  he  will  purr  for  each,  or  will  scratch  each  with  equal  claw.  In  the  same  way,  the 
man-of-no-account,  who  sees  as  clearly  as  Burke  did  "  what  shadows  we  all  are  and  what  shad- 
ows we  all  pursue,"  can  afford  to  laugh  quietly  in  his  sleeve  when  some  particularly  vain 
shadow-chaser  presumes  to  adopt  an  arrogant  air  because  of  the  superior  bigness  or  popularity 
of  the  particular  shadow  which  he  himself  happens  to  be  running  after.  My  own  observation 
of  eminent  "  fellow-shadows  "  is  apt  to  impress  me  in  much  the  same  way  as  contact  with  one 
who  declines  to  ride  a  bicycle  for  fear  he  may  appear  "  undignified," — I  mean  it  recalls  Roche- 
foucauld's shrewd  definition  :  "  Gravity  is  a  peculiar  carriage  of  the  body,  invented  to  conceal 
the  defects  of  the  mind."  As  an  offset  to  my  asserted  indifference  about  the  sort  of  "  recogni- 
tion "  extended  to  roe  by  such  "  persons  of  position  "  as  I  have  happened  to  meet, — to  my 
denial  of  "awe"  and  "patronage"  as  factors  in  my  independent  growth, — I  wish  to  record 
here,  very  humbly,  the  genuine  sense  of  gratitude  I  hold  towards  my  family  and  my  friends,  for 
rightly  shaping  the  development  of  any  good  traits  which  may  belong  to  my  character.  If  it 
owes  exceptionally  little  to  outsiders,  to  iktm  it  assuredly  owes  much.  The  pleasure  of  exist- 
ence, indeed,  lies  largely  in  the  certainty  I  feel  that  the  men  who  have  known  me  longest, — ^who, 
from  almost  a  quarter-century's  intimacy,  understand  most  fully  my  faults  and  shortcomings, — 
are  the  men  who  like  me  best.  I  hate  to  think  of  "  what  might  have  chanced  me,  all  these  years, 
as  boy  and  man,"  were  there  not  a  half-dozen  such  of  whom  I  can  sincerely  say  : 


« 


The  kindly  hand  has  never  failed  me  yet,  and  never  yet  has  failed  the  cheering  word ; 
Nor  ever  went  Perplexity  unheard,  but  ever  was  by  thoughtful  Counsel  met." 


**Litfrary"  types  and 
comparisons. 


The  foregoing  admission  forbids  any  one  applying  to  me  the 
characterization  which  Henry  Clapp,  jr.,  so  aptly  applied  to  Horace 
Greeley  :  "  a  self-made  man  who  worships  his  creator."  It  shows 
too,  that  I  have  enough  of  the  humorous  sense  to  forbid  my  accepting  seriously  a  grotesque 
Domination  for  the  Presidency,  against  a  successful  general  of  world-wide  fame,  and  then  dying 
from  disappointea  vanity  tner  the  inevitable  result.  Clapp's  obscure  death,  in  a  hospital,  was 
not  a  very  noble  one ;  but  it  was  less  contemptible  than  that  of  the  man  whom  he  satirized, — a 
man  whose  inability  to  see  his  own  limitations  was  fated  to  delay  for  a  decade  this  nation's  hope 
of  a  reformed  civil-service.  Even  after  death,  "  it  is  something  to  call  a  Greeley  a  Greeley," 
as  Charles  Astor  Bristed  used  to  say.  There  is  some  slight  advantage  in  pointing  out  the  public 
troubles  which  have  resulted  from  the  worship  of  a  defunct  popular  idol,  if  only  to  help  lessen 
the  number  of  worshipers  about  the  shrine  pf  the  next  one.  I  doubt  if  the  name  of  Mr.  Bris- 
ted (d.  J«a.  tS»  l|^#»  53)  signifies  anything  to  as  many  as  loo  of  my  3000  subscribers ;  and 
yet  ht  fMtKi*^'*''''^*  ^^^f^  life  was  worth  more  to  the  higher  civilization  of  a  country  like 
His  Hftit  "<    He  was  the  only  man  of  wealth  whom  I  ever  happened 

teniflr  '  the  development  o'  '  ual  freedom,  instead 

JHpB  '  f^nd  convention  only  man  of  letters 


728  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

who  ever  wrote  a  book  that  I  should  have  been  proud  to  have  been  able  to  write,  because  of  its 
power,  from  first  word  to  last,  to  reflect  my  own  mind  on  the  subject  which  it  cooceroed.  That 
subject  was  the  trick  of  winning  popularity  by  preaching  the  suppression  of  the  individual  for 
the  flattery  of  the  mass ;  and  that  book  was  in  form  a  personal  letter  to  our  most  admired 
apostle  of  mediocrity  and  commonplace, — our  late  "American  Tupper,"  J.  G.  Holland, — **  Con- 
cerning his  Habit  of  Giving  Advice  to  Everybody,  and  his  Qualifications  for  the  Task"  (Svo. 
45  PP'>  ^>  ^'1  '^4)'  ^  regards  my  dislike  for  most  "  literary  men,"  which  my  Preface  alludes 
to,  I  suppose  it  is  because  I  class  them  among  ^he  "  show  people  "  or  "  play-actors  " ;  and 
because,  as  regards  the  stage,  I  agree  with  the  remark  of  Fanny  Kemble,  whose  life-long  suc- 
cess there  makes  her  opinion  significant,  that  the  theatrical  business  is  "  incessant  excitement  and 
factitious  emotion,  unworthy  of  a  man ;  public  exhibition,  unworthy  of  a  woman."  If  an  actor 
amuses  me,  I  am  glad  to  applaud  him ;  but  I  have  no  more  interest  in  his  personality,  after  the 
curtain  falls,  than  on  the  "  properties  "  which  assist  him  to  amuse  me.  My  personal  indiffer- 
ence to  a  novelist  is  almost  as  complete ;  though  I  must  confess  that  I  was  glad  to  see  Dickens, 
in  '69, — for  there  seemed  something  really  genuine  about  him.  I  by  no  means  condemn  any  one 
for  resorting  to  the  stage,  or  to  novel-making,  if  he  does  so  because  that  happens  to  be,  in  his 
case,  the  most  practicable  chance  for  earning  a  livelihood.  No  more  do  I  look  ^ith  contempt 
upon  any  man  who,  for  the  same  reason,  elects  to  carry  a  hod.  The  law  of  necessity  is  a  com- 
plete defense  for  every  human  occupation ;  and  that  is  why  I  have  brought  it  forward  so  often 
as  an  excuse  for  writing  this  chapter  and  publishing  this  book.  I  certainly  should  have  done 
neither  under  any  less  powerful  impulse.  But  I  say  of  a  man,  who,  for  the  mere  gratification 
of  vanity,  spends  a  lot  of  time  in  trying  to  "  hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature,"  either  on  the  mimic 
stage  or  the  printed  page,  that  I  have  no  more  sympathy  for  him  than  I  should  have  iac  an 
amateur  hod-carrier,  who  thought  it  funny  to  serve  the  public  in  that  rough  way,  while  a  free 
life  of  his  own  could  be  had  for  asking.  "  H  we  really  understand  life,  we  should  command  it, 
reap  its  principal  rewards,  comfortably  live  it,  instead  of  vaguely  speculating  about  it.*'  So 
says  a  college  contemporary  of  mine,  W.  H.  Bishop,  whom  1  account  quite  as  good  a  storf 
teller  as  any  American  of  his  age ;  and  he  also  agrees  with  me  in  "  sometimes  thinking  that 
the  literary  faculty,  instead  of  strength,  is  a  form  of  weakness."  As  illustrative  of  the  same 
idea,  I  quote  from  a  letter  which  the  Russian  novelist,  Turgeneff,  wrote,  in  his  decrepitude,  as 
to  the  vanity  of  certain  "  flattering  notices."  If  I  could  assume  that  similar  praises  were  con- 
ing to  me  from  wheelmen  of  all  countries,  that  the  quick  sale  of  30,000  books  had  won  me  a 
decent  competence,  and  that  my  health  liad  meanwhile  been  broken  down  by  the  overwork 
involved, — I  anticipate  that  my  feelings  would  be  exactly  reflected  in  these  words  of  his  :  '*  To 
say  that  this  does  not  touch  me  would  be  untrue ;  but  it  would  be  just  as  false  to  declare  that  it 
greatly  pleases  me.  All  that  is  '  shadow  of  smoke.*  For  a  few  weeks  of  youth — the  most  fool- 
ish, impulsive,  reckless,  but  youth— I  would  give  not  only  my  reputation,  but  the  glory  of  being 
an  actual  genius,  if  I  were  one.  What  would  you  do  then  ?  you  ask.  I  would  be  off  with  a 
[bicycle]  for  ten  hours  on  the  stretch,  without  stopping.  Ah  I  that  would  be  worth  while,  and 
that  for  me  now  is  not  to  be  thought  of."  There  is  thus  no  doubt  of  the  answer  he  would  have 
given  to  George  Arnold's  question,  as  to  the  relative  value  of  repute  and  reality  : 

"  Ye  who  list  Fame's  trumpet-call ;  waste  your  lives  and  pleasures  all ; 
When  your  eyes  in  death  are  glating,  what  are  future  glories  worth  ?  " 


751^  significance  of 
''society:' 


I  have  no  possible  quarrel  with  what  is  called  "  society,"  nor  sym- 
pathy with  the  small  satirists  who  affect  to  ridicule  its  rules.  These  are 
just  as  necessary  as  the  rules  of  any  other  game,  and  the  man  wh« 
doesn't  like  them  ought  to  seek  some  other  game  for  his  amusement.  I  myself  should  ne 
more  think  of  trying  to  play  at  "  society  "  than  at  billiards  or  base-ball,— for  any  such  cast-lroa 
form  of  pleasuring  is  necessarily  a  bore  to  me ;  but  I  am  happy  to  recognize  that  other  people 
can  enjoy  it  "  because  they  are  built  that  way. "  Society  is  a  much  older  and  much  more  generally 
interesting  game  than  any  of  the  less  elaborate  ones,  for  it  has  existed  as  long  as  the  institutioa  of 
property,  on  which  it  is  based;  and,  as  almost  all  people  desire  to  get  property,  they  are  apt  !• 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  729 

<ak0  an  interest  in  the  movements  of  those  people  whose  amusement  it  is  to  display  the  fact  that 
they  have  got  it.  Now,  I  blame  no  one  for  amusing  himself  thus,  nor  for  adopung  certain 
rules  auid  conventions  by  which  that  display  may  be  most  conveniently  and  effectively  made.  I 
contend,  however,  that,  as  the  sole  object  of  "  society  "  is  amusement,  the  common  habit  of 
accrediting  it  with  any  serious  purpose,  or  of  assuming  that  there  is  any  "  duty "  involved  in 
**  belonging  "  to  it,  is  quite  absurd.  It  is  simply  a  game,  and  is  to  be  judged  by  the  ordinary 
laws  coDceming  sport.  A  man  pays  money  for  going  into  it,  just  as  he  does  for  going  into  bicy- 
cling,  either  for  the  anticipated  fun,  or  in  the  hope  of  making  more  money.  The  great  number  of 
these  "  professionals  "  who  play  at  "  society,"  though  really  bored  by  it  as  a  game,  help  give 
color  to  the  delusion  that  it  has  a  serious  side ;  but  a  moment's  reflection  will  show  that  a  man 
may  be  an  exemplary  citizen,  and  f ulii.l  all  the  duties  which  he  owes  his  fellows,  without  giving 
any  more  regard  to  "  society  "  than  to  bicycling  or  rowing.  The  vast  bulk  of  the  race,  indeed, — 
the  people  who  do  most  of  the  world's  work, — ^are  inexorably  barred  out  from  it  because  they 
naust  always  be  poor.  To  rail  at  society  for  being  "  purse-proud,"  or  **  refusing  to  recognise 
a  poor  man,'*  shows  an  odd  misapprehension  of  its  character.  To  denounce  a  pair  of  bicycle 
tourists  as  "  heartless,"  because  they  refuse  to  adapt  their  pace  to  a  pedestrian  who  wishes  to 
enjoy  their  company,  would  be  no  more  absurd.  Substantial  equality  between  the  players,  and  a 
pre^urranged  system  of  rules,  are  essential  to  the  orderly  movement  of  any  game.  As  a  scheme 
for  enabling  wealthy  people  to  busy  themselves  in  trying  to  outshine  each  other  and  arouse  the 
envy  of  the  less  fortunate,  "  society "  seems  to  me  less  objectionable  than  horse-radng  or 
yachting ;  but  it  is  more  deplorable  than  those  sports  in  this  respect,  that  it  continually  tempts 
in  the  weak-minded,  who  can't  really  afford  to  play,  and  who  therefore  devote  the  energies  of 
miserable  lives  to  the  "  keeping  up  of  appearances."  To  all  such  I  commend  the  wisdom  in 
the  following  inspired  lines  of  a  Western  woman  who  calls  herself  "  The  Sweet  Singer  of 
Mich.,"  in  a  printed  collection  of  her  "poems,"  and  who  once  on  a  time  was  publicly  crowned 
with  a  laurel  wreath,  by  her  admiring  fellow-citizens.  No  doubt,  they  felt,  as  I  do,  that  these 
three  lines  alone  were  well  worth  the  price  of  it : 

"  Leave  off  the  agony,  leave  off  style,  unless  you  've  got  money  by  you  all  the  while  I 
If  you  turn  and  look  around  you,  you  11  often  have  to  smile, 
To  see  so  many  poor  people  putting  on  style  1 


tf 


My  personal  relations 
with  cyclers. 


Count  Tolstoi's  recent  book,  "  My  Religion,"  shows  that  b« 
ought  to  be  a  bicycler,  if  he  is  not  one,~-«o  heartily  does  he  symp^ 
thize  with  the  things  which  give  iu  charm  to  wheeling.  "  Perpetual 
contact  with  nature  "  he  thinks  the  first  condition  of  human  happiness.  "  Man  must,  like  a 
plant,  enjoy  the  sun,  the  fresh  air,  the  spectacle  of  the  earth.  He  roust  throw  off  his  depend* 
ence  on  valets,  coachmen  and  porteis,  who  intercept  all  coromunicstion  with  his  fellow^men, 
with  vegetation,  with  animals.  He  must  offset  mental  worry  by  doing  physical  work,  which  pro- 
cores  appetite  and  quiet  sleep ;  and  he  must  have  some  mode  of  mcuring  ^ffkciiomUt  itUir* 
couruwith  all  mem."  The  bicycle's  availability  as  an  instrument  for  the  purpose  showti  by  the 
words  which  I  have  iulidzed,  was  what  I  chiefly  praised  it  for  when  I  wrote  the  essay  of  Ave 
years  ago,  which  stands  at  the  head  of  this  book  (see  pp.  3,  14);  and  it  is  what  I  want  to  chiefly 
insist  upon  now,  as  an  excuse  for  my  elaborate  showing  of  the  various  classes  of  men  between 
whom  and  myself  there  can  be  no  snch  intercourse.  I  hope,  by  contrast,  the  more  Impressively 
to  exhibit  why,  between  myself  and  the  class  of  men  who  like  to  push  bicycles  through  the  coun« 
try,  I  think  there  must  exist  an  unusual  amount  of  affection  and  sympathy.  I  suppose  that  a 
college-bred  man  is  always  mildly  gbd  to  learn  that  the  winner  of  any  notable  prise  In  public  \\H 
was  also  a  graduate ;  that  he  is  more  pleased  on  learning  that  such  winner  graduated  at  his  owtt 
college;  and  most  pleased  when  the  winner  chances  to  be  an  acquaintance  and  olassmata, 
There  is  a  gratification  in  such  cases  of  a  not  ignoble  self.^teem,— the  same  which  forma  the 
basis  of  local  public-spirit  and  national  patriotism,— and  I  rely  upon  it  as  a  factor  In  helping  ma 
ntcceed  with  this  book.  I  thmk  snch  success,  if  won,  will  stir  a  sort  of  generous  pride  In  tha 
haarto  of  wheelmen,  for  they  will  feel  that  whatever  glory  attaches  to  It  must,  In  loma  degiM, 


73©  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

beicflecledbackvpao  theapoit,aBd  aoapoa  thoBKhcBasshafcnniL  There  k  always  a 
I  cone  hidiaiioe  oontact  with  a  acnafor,  ia  duciwwjim  that  he  is  ooOese-fared,— 
that  fact  Bakes  him  easentiaUy  better-fared  or  oMire  intereatiqc  ihaa  the 
it  at  once  pots  ss  oo  commoo  niuoiHiy  where  we  can  fredy  csdiaQgi 
oertaia  variety  of  topics,  without  any  dangier  of  tieaiiiag  on  each  other's  toes.  Siaailaily,  ior  its 
power  in  breakias  down  the  coofentiooai  baiTiera  against  intercourse,  I  vahK  the  bicycle ;  and 
I  frcngni ir  the  pusiCMJon  ol  one  as— always  and  mijnlnn  a  sattrfaftwy  iatrodncdoo^ard 
to  my  good-win.  I  am  ^ad  to  have  wheelmen  nuke  thfmarlwes  known  to  me,  while  on  the 
road,  and  jog  along  with  me  a  iew  hoars,  il  they  choose  to,— thoq^  any  ffonnal  eaoort-boaincsi^ 
by  a  large  party,  b  not  to  my  taste.  If  non-resident  snbscribers  wiH  notify  me  of  definite  boon 
and  places  decided  npott  by  them  for  ridii^,  while  viatii^  the  region  around  New  Yotfc,  I  wiO 
try  to  join  them,  whenever  practicaUe.  Subscribers  from  a  foreign  country,  or  from  remote 
repons  in  this  country,  or  who  hare  exchanged  many  letters  with  me,  are  spedally  invited,  when 
they  virit  tins  dty,  either  to  make  a  rkfing  appointment  as  abore,  or  else  to  call  on  me  at  my 
chambers,  between  4  and  6  p.  m,  I  prefer  not  to  be  interrupted  earlier,  except  by  definite  en> 
gj^ement ;  and  even  am  afternoon  call  may  be  more  certainly  assured  if  notice  be  sent  in  advance. 
Considering  how  common  the  custom  is  among  "  literary  men  *'  to  let  the  walls  of  their  babita- 
dons  be  pulled  down  for  the  amusement  of  the  populace,  I  hope  no  posable  visitor  of  mine  vrill 
feel  a£&onted  if  I  here  give  plain  warning  that,  as  regards  self-advertisement,  I  "  draw  the  line  " 
at  my  own  doorway.  What  a  man  may  see,  inside  the  same,  I  do  not  vrish  that  he  should  re^ 
port  to  others  Suffice  it  to  say  that  my  surroundings  are  comfortadde  amd  orderiy,  and  that  any 
proctamatioo  of  the  exact  nature  of  them  is  not  consntent  with  my  ideal  of  a  private  life.  As 
to  this,  and  as  to  the  suppression  of  my  family  name,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  "  there  is  a 
great  £fference  between  having  yourself  discussed  among  your  acquaintance,  and  having  your- 
self discusMd  by  the  world  at  huge,  and  discussed,  too,  against  your  will,  when  you  have  no  desire 
for  notoriety. "  Reports  about  upholstery  and  bric-i-brac  seem  to  me  more  appropriately  spread 
abroad  by  brilliant  "  opefators  on  Wall  St.,"  as  a  part  of  their  game  in  stock-gamblii^.  I  recall 
that  two  of  my  f oraier  associates  both  a  trifle  younger  than  I  am— so  distinguished  themselves 
in  this  game,  while  posing  as  bank  presidento,  that  one  of  them  was  sentenced  to  prison  for  ten 
years,  while  the  other  chose  exile  in  Canada.  Still  a  third  "  young  N^ioleon  of  finance  **  was 
casually  known  to  me,  years  ago,  before  he  began  to  tread  the  path  of  glory  which  has  brought 
him  to  State's  Prison.  I  think  that,  on  one  of  the  occasions  when  I  met  Gen.  Grant  drivii^,  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  city,  this  phenomenon  (who  brought  misery  to  his  last  days)  was  on  the 
seat  beside  him ;  but  the  notion  never  occurred  to  me  that  either  one  of  them  was  having  a 
pleasanter  time  of  it  than  I  on  the  bicyde.  Indeed,  as  regards  the  entire  trio  of  bank-wredcen, 
—whose  villainies  were  monumental  even  in  an  era  when  betrayals  of  great  trusts  are  common,— 
I  had  BO  more  envy  of  them  in  the  days  of  their  "  great  financiering  "  (when  the  people  whom 
they  have  ruined  were  bowing  down  to  them,  as  to  golden  calves  of  uncommon  splendor  and  pro- 
ductiveness), than  I  have  to-day.  Bicyding  seemed  then,  as  it  seems  now,  a  much  pleasanter 
game  to  play ;  and  it  is  in  no  spirit  of  personal  exuhation  that  I  allude  to  the  fate  of  these 
acquaintances  who  tried  to  play  a  more  pretentious  *one.  I  use  their  example  merdy  for  its 
power  to  sharply  pmnt  anew  this  underlying  appeal  of  my  book  : 

"  Why  struggle  for  fame  or  for  riches  ?    Why  throw  away  health  and  youth's  joys  ? 

'  With  bold  heart  and  a  stout  pair  of  breeches,'  let 's  friteel  throiigh  the  world,  my  brave  boys  I" 


Sincerity  and  its 
compensations. 


The  interest  which  people  feel  in  the  "  hst  woids"  of  criminals  afaoot 
to  be  executed,  is  not  entirely  a  morbid  one,  but  is  inspired  somewhat  by 
the  belief  that,  on  this  ultimate  occasion,  they  will  probably  say  what  they 
think.  Similarly,  if  there  be  any  literary  quality  in  these  words  of  mine  powerful  enough  to 
attract  the  attention  of  readers  who  are  not  wheelmen,  I  presume  it  must  be  their  quality  oIcmk 
reytng  the  impression  that  the  writer  of  them  has  got  to  the  end,  and  does  n't  care.  I  Ihlifc 
their  tone  of  sincerity  must  be  too  pronounced  to  leave  any  chance  forsuspidon.  At  dl 
if  I  knew  these  words  were  really  the  last  ever  to  be  printed  by  roe,  I  would  n't 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  731 

them.  In  fact,  I  would  n't  ctre  to  recall  anything  I  ever  printed  or  wrote.  It  haa  been  acoffingly 
aaid  that  a  man  who  claims  this  for  bimaclf  **is  pretty  certain  never  to  have  written  anything 
whidi  any  one  else  cares  to  recall."  I  do  not  object  to  the  implication ;  I  simply  uige  that  the 
fewness  of  one's  regrets  is  among  the  rewards  for  "  going  slow."  Sir  Matthew  Hale's  rule : 
"  Never  speak  ill  of  anybody,  unless  you  are  sure  they  deserve  it,  and  unless  it  is  necessary  for 
their  amendment  or  for  the  safety  and  benefit  of  others,"— is  anile  I  have  always  tried  to  follow. 
Hence,  such  enemies  as  I  may  have  in  the  world,— either  on  account  of  my  plainness  of  speech, 
or  on  any  other  account, — must  hate  me  in  a  sort  of  impersonal  manner:  not  because  they  feel  I 
bear  them  any  malice,  or  have  done  them  wilful  injustice,  but  because  I  seem  to  embody  a  type 
of  character  which  they  recognize  as  in  deadly  opposition  to  their  own.  I  suppose  most  observers 
of  the  outward  circumstances  of  my  life  may  have  voted  the  same  rather  fortunate,  but  I  think 
few  can  have  magnified  them  to  the  pitch  of  excithig  envy.  People  generally  would  not  class  me 
as  "  a  successful  man,"  because  (although  I  never  failed  in  anything  I  set  out  to  do)  I  have  never 
attempted  anything  of  size  enough  to  seem  to  them  worth  doing.  Thus  I  feel  free  to  tell  my  full 
story,  in  the  belief  that  its  very  smallness  and  simplicity  render  it  incapable  of  arousing  resent- 
ment. My  experiences  have  not  made  me  Meu/,  neither  is  my  mode  of  looking  at  life  supercili- 
ous or  nS  admirari.  Though  my  character  is  positive  enough,  many  of  my  satisfactions  have 
been  negative.  By  keeping  out  of  the  fight,  I  have  been  saved  from  great  troubles,  and  have 
been  enabled  to  form  a  good-natured  judgment  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  the  fighters.  If  the 
lottery  of  Fate  has  not  happened  to  toss  its  capital-prize  into  my  lap,  I  have,  at  all  events, 
never  experienced  the  bitterness  of  seeing  some  other  man  lug  o£F  the  woman  whom  I  wanted. 
Life  may  not  have  given  me  all  the  fun  I  hoped  for,  but  I  seem  to  have  made  as  much  as  possible 
out  of  the  chances  in  actual  reach  (like  as  the  Indian  "  had  all  the  time  there  was  "),  and  to  have 
been  robbed  of  no  chance  by  any  one  else.  As  for  the  might-have-been,  my  belief  in  the  law  of 
compensations  of  nature  is  strong  enough  to  make  me  feel  that  any  greater  advantages  would 
have  been  offset  by  proportionately  greater  troubles ;  that  whatever  is,  is  right.  Thus  I  apply 
to  myself  the  favorite  poem  of  one  of  the  Gary  sisters  (its  prelude  depicting  a  brilliantly  attractive 
fife,  quite  different  from  the  life  she  had  actually  led)  : 

"  Yea,  I  said.    If  a  miracle  such  as  this  could  be  wrought  for  me  at  my  bidding,  still 
I  would  choose  to  have  my  past  as  it  is,  and  to  let  my  future  come  as  it  will. 
I  would  not  have  the  path  I  have  trod  more  pleasant  or  easy,  more  smooth  or  wide, 
Nor  change  my  course,  the  breadth  of  a  hair,  this  way  or  that,  to  either  side. 
My  past  is  mine,  and  I  take  it  all :  its  weakness,  its  folly,  if  you  please ; 
Nay,  even  my  sins,  if  you  come  to  that,  may  have  been  my  helps,  not  hindrances. 
So  let  my  past  stand,  just  as  it  stands,  and  let  me  now,  as  I  may,  grow  old ; 
My  past  is  mine,  and  it  is,  for  me,  the  best,  or  it  had  not  been,  I  hold." 


Tlu pleasures  of  speak- 
ing  squarely. 


The  surprise  sometimes  expressed  at  a  man's  willingness  to  put 
on  the  printed  page,  where  every  stranger  may  read  them,  those 
thoughts  about  himself  which  he  never  verbally  reveals  to  his 
aoqnadntances,  is  not  really  justified.  In  talk,  there  is  always  danger  of  becoming  a  bore,  "  by 
saying  so  much  about  one's  self  as  not  to  allow  the  second  man  a  chance  to  say  enough  about 
A/mself."  No  one  can  be  bored  by  the  printed  page,  for  he  Ts  under  no  compulsion  to  read  it ; 
while,  as  for  the  writer  of  it,  he  avoids  the  danger  of  being  distracted  and  turned  away  from 
his  ideal  by  the  "  leading  questions  "  of  a  verbal  interlocutor.  He  tells  simply  the  story  which 
be  thinks  worth  telling ;  and  he  commands  curiosity  to  stop  when  he  is  done.  Still  further,  so 
far  as  an  author's  immediate  associates  are  ooncemed,  he  realizes  that,  as  Hamerton  says, 
"  familiarity  has  made  him  such  a  coimBM|rf|HMHH||[UiftjMr  ^fn  that  they  have  only  the 
slightest  curiosity  in  what  be  pMrjfl|M^^^^^^^^^^^BH|Wttnndy  know  him  per- 
fectly his  b0a^f|||f||^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H|kHMnine  in  which 
perf CHrms  before  ^MflJl^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HllMri  ^  can 
tempt  any  one  ^h^tflj^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^BB^^^^^^^HlpI  whidt 
be  ineviubty  kiloiM^^^^^^^   ^^^^^^^^^k^^k^_^^^^^^^HM^* '^ 


732  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Ga6  surely  interest  me  most  in  that,  xf  only  he  will  talk  squarely.    In  this  "  if  "  lies  all  the  trou: 
The  instnoerity  of  a  roan's  egotism  is  what  makes  him  a  bore,— not  the  amount  of  it.    Few  ^ 
are  willing  to  discuss  themselves  in  a  scientific  spirit.    Nearly  all  wear  a  mask  of  some  sort  -« 
are  in  a  constant  worry  lest  any  casual  remark  may  reveal  the  cracks  in  it.    Hence  they  w 
us  by  the  monotony  with  which  the  best  foot  is  thrust  forward  for  admiration ;  by  the  tir'^' 
endeavor  to  make  themselves  seem  better  than  they  are.    It  is  for  the  opposite  reason  tb- 
egotism  of  unsophisticated  childhood  is  so  charming.    It  aims  simply  to  reveal  the  truth ;  v 
BO  scheme  or  theory  to  work  o£E  upon  us.    Now,  the  highest  function  of  any  really  cTirr 
sport  is  to  bring  men  back  towards  this  condition  of  childlike  simplicity,  in  their  relations  to 
other,  as  votaries  of  it  (see  p.  14).     In  the  presence  of  this  idol,  they  have  no  ambitions  or  . 
ries  or  concealments.    They  simply  like  to  free  their  minds  and  exchange  ideau  in  regarc 
surpassing  merits  and  attractions.    Thinking  of  cyclers  thus,  I  have  assumed  that  thrv 
Uke  kindly  to  this  "  exhibition  of  my  mental  processes,"  as  indicative  of  a  character  th.. 
bining  prid;:  without  ostentation,  conceit  without  vanity,  and  enthusiasm  witliout  ambit 
.be  counted  on  to  serve  them  squarely.     I  wish  them  to  see  that  my  mind — though  it 
be  very  brilliant,  nor  very  profound,  nor  very  original — is  at  least  my  very  own.     L 
curious  to  know,  beyond  tliis,  the  statistical  details  of  the  life  from  which  it  has  been  di 
they  may  discover  the  same  in  the  privately>printed  graduates'  biographies  which  are 
by  the  college  library  at  Yale.    As  for  my  "  patient  treating  of  small  things  as  ii 
large," — my  "  acceptance  of  Emerson's  maxim  that  no  man  can  do  any  work  well  wl. 
regard  it,  for  the  time  being,  as  the  center  of  the  universe,"— the  business-basis  thereo. 
that  those  who  are  pleased  by  the  resulting  show  wilt  take  pains  to  increase  my  ^ 
I  shall  proclaim  to  them,  therefore,  the  exact  costs  of  the  enterprise,  as  soon  as  tl 
known  to  me,  and  its  exact  prospects  of  profit  or  loss.     Meanwhile,  the  risk  I  incu 
■o  small  a  price  as  ^i.jo  upon  a  collection  of  more  than  500,000  words,  may  be  gUL 
comparison  with  the  best-known  of  recent  subscription-works,  "  Grant's  Memoirs, 
pages  contain  only  300,000  words,  though  the  price  is  $7.    My  chance  of  gain  coi. 
the  possible  demand  for  large  later  editions,  after  the  ist  ed.  of  6000  shall  have  . 
of ;  because  those  later  eds.  can  be  produced  at  slight  expense  from  the  "  plant  " 
•essed,— whereas,  in  lack  of  such  demand,  these  electrotype  plates,  which  ha 
much,  will  be  no  better  than  waste  copper.     I  think  ths  cyc!ing  world  can  be  road 
30,000  of  these  books ;  but  the  private  profit  and  the  public  impressiveness  of  t 
depend  upon  its  promptness.    Desiring,  therefore,  to  "  get  through  "  in  3  yeari 
I  say  to  ray  assumed  volunteer  helpers,  "  Please  be  quick  about  it  I  " 


Chances  on  the 
down-grade. 


With  his  best  ten  years  just  in  front  of  him,  a  healthy 
his  own  consciousness,  practically  immortal ;  and  that  ma 
feeling  at  35,  in  spite  of  the  death-darts  which  must  needs  t 
those  near  to  him.    But,  at  40,  a  man  has  "  climbed  the  peaks  of  Darien  " ;  1> 
descent ;  and,  if  at  all  reflsctive,  ha  sees  clearly  what  the  end  must  be.    I  hav  - 
hension  of  reaching  that  end  in  less  than  30  years.    My  chances  of  filling  tb 
seem  as  good  as  a  man's  well  can  be ;  and  I  hope  I  may  bs  able  to  keep  fair' 
the  last.    But  it  is  right  that  I  should  record  certain  events  which  have  teivV- 
tinge  to  my  recent  meditations.    On  the  afternoon  of  my  return  from  the  priii 
I  had  carried  the  first  prospectus  of  this  book  (Jan.  is,  '84),  the  breaking  of 
the  top  of  a  Broadway  sta^e  caused  m;  to  fall  thence  to  ths  icy  pavement 
where,  two  years  earlier,  I  had  had  a  remarkably  narrow  escape  from  being 
horse.    A  few  hours  later,  while  still  pondering  over  this  grim  coincidence  (> 
well  have  been  fatal),  word  came  to  me  thit  a  friend  of  long-standing  h.\ 
himself.    He  was  the  oldest  man  of  the  aoo  in  my  college  class,  and  I  ah 
and  took  pride  in  him  as  its  most  representative  man.    He  was  a  good  co 
effectively  to  men  of  diverse  tastes  and  likings.    He  had  commanded  a 
army  during  the  civil  war,  and  was  of  exceptionally  fine  physique.    No  v 
cwnpetent  to  quit  himself  well  !n  the  struggle  for  existence.    He  had  £aci 


\\\ 


.\ 


XXXIX. 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


Thb  following  persons  have  each  subscribed  $i  to  ensure  the  publication  of  this  book, 
and  they  are  authorized  to  persuade  as  many  other  persons  as  possible  to  buy  copies  of  it  at 
$1.50  each.  Numerals  signify  the  order  of  enrollment  upon  the  subscription-list,  and  town- 
names  show  where  other  details  may  be  found  by  consulting  the  alphabetized  lists  of  the 
Geographical  Directory  (XL.),  in  which  the  States  stand  as  follows  :  Me.,  N.  H.,  Vt.,  Mass., 
R.  I.,  Ct.,  N.  Y.,  N.  J.,  Pa.,  Del.,  Md.,  Dist.  of  Col.,  W.  Va.,V;i,,  N.  C,  S.  C.,Ga.,  Ra.,  Ala., 
Miss.,  La.,  Tex.,  Ark.,  Tenn.,  Ky.,  O.,  Mich.,  Ind.,  111.,  Mo.,  la.,  Wis.,  Minn.,  Dak.,  Neb., 
Kan.,  Ind.  Ter.,  N.  Mex.,  Col.,  Wy.,  Mon.,  Id.,  Wash.,  Or.,  Utah,  Nev.,  Ariz.,  Cal.  After 
these  may  be  found  Canada,  England,  the  various  countries  of  Europe  and  Asia,  and  the 
colonies  of  Australia.  Italics  are  used  in  preferring  to  all  these  regions  outside  the  U.  S.  For- 
eigners are  reminded  that  Baltimore  is  in  Md.,  Boston  in  Mass.,  Brooklyn  in  N.  Y.,  Chics^  in 
111.,  Cincinnati  in  O.,  Philadelphia  (shortened  to  "  Phila.")  in  Pa.,  San  Francisco  in  Cal., 
St.  Louis  in  Mo.,  Washington  in  D.  C,  and  that  the  name  of  the  State  must  always  be  added 
to  any  address  in  the  U.  S.  The  only  exception  to  this  is  the  chief  city  of  all,  because  (as  it  has 
the  same  name  with  the  chief  State  of  all,  and  lies  within  its  borders)  a  duplication  of  "  New 
York  "  is  not  necessary. 


Aaron,  Eugene  M.,  Philadelphia  108, 22x6-29 

Abadie,  E.  R.,  New  Almaden,  Cal.  2012 

Abbott,  Edward  G.,  Diss,  En^.  9939 

Abd,  P.  L.,  Riverside,  Cal.  2065 

Abom,  Geo.  P.,  Wakefield,  Mass.  1848 

Abrams,  Edwin  H.,  Croton  Falls,  N.  Y.  3271 

Acker,  W.  Wallace,  Norristown,  Pa.  2551 

Adams,  C.  Franklin,  Bordentown,  N.  J.  2274 

Adams,  C.  M.,  Mansfield,  Pa.  1782 

Adams,  D.  C,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  1338 

Adams,  D.  C,  Randolph,  N.  Y.  86 

Adams,  E.  C,  Battle  Creek,  Mich.  2863 

Adams,  Edmn  W.,  New  York  75 

Adams,  F.,  Newark,  N.  J.  2486 

Adams,  Frank  M.,  Rockville,  Ct.  333 

Adams,  Horace  A.,  Willimantic,  Ct.  756 

Adams,  J.  Fred,  Haverhill,  Mass.  345 

Adams,  J.  Howe,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  573 

Adams,  J.  H.,  YarmouthTille,  Me.  2646 

Adams,  L.,  Eastbourne,  Emg".  2584 

Adams,  R.  G.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2324 

Adams,  Walter  H.,  Worcester,  Mass.  3158 

Adams,  W.  E.,  Melbourne,  yjci.  1710 

Adams,  William,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1671 

Adoock,  A.,  Hobatt,  Tas.  32x4 

Adti^  LUraryt  Easthampton,  Mass.  3201 

Adriance,  J.  R.,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.  490 


Aekison,  J.  D.,  Oakland,  Cal.  3238 

Affleck,  Robert,  Gateshead,  Eni^.  2784 

Aiken,  W.  H.,  CoUege  HiU,  O.  1933 

Albee,  £.  D.,  Wakefield,  Mass.  xos 

Albright,  H.  S.,  OrwigsboTg,  Pa.  336s 
Aldrich,  James,  Spencer,  Mass.      3152,  31SI 

Alexander,  A.,  Liverpool,  Eng,  2904 
Allen,  Add  S.,  Summit  Point,  W.  Va.     1437 

Allen,  jr.,  Chas.  W.,  Cincinnati,  O.  130s 

Allen,  F.  H.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1565 

Allen,  N.  G.,  Athens,  N.  Y.  29 

Allerton,  jr.,  O.  H.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  2958 

Alley,  Chas.  K.,  New  York  1683 

Allison,  Geo.  F.,  Oswego,  N.  Y.  89 

Allison,  J.  G.,  (Galveston,  Tex.)  318 

Allison,  Robt.,  Greenock,  Scot.  3079 

Aim,  H.  A.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  2811 

Alter,  C  H.,  Homestead,  Pa.  aixs 

Alvord,  C.  E.,  Detroit,  Mich.  66$ 
Alvord,  Jas.  Leslie,  Philadelphia,  Pa.      1369 

American  HeUl^  Allentown,  Pa.  U65 

A  mericoH  House.,  Calais,  Me.  2090 

A  merican  House,  Indiana,  Pa.  1899 
Ames,  E.  H.,  Titusville,  Pa. 
Ames,  F.  V.,  S.  Abington  Station, 

Amis  Heme,  Pine  Binff,  Ark.  ayts 

Amory,  R.  G.,  New  York  tjf^ 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS, 


735 


Andenon,  D.,  SandhuxBt,  Vict.  3061 
Aodenoo,  Robert  W.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.    902 

Anderson,  W.  B.,  New  York  xi^ 

Andrews,  £.  J.,  Rockford,  111.  1833 

Andrews,  F.  S.,  Augusta,  Ky.  1163 

Andrews,  J.,  Hobart,  Ta$.  3213 

Andrews,  Richard,  Sandhurst,  Vict,  3063 

Angell,  Jas.  P.,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.  3358 
Annable,  Edwin  W.,  Fitzwilliam,  N.  H.  3105 
Anthony,  Wendell  P.,  Providence,  R.  I.   830 

Anthony,  W.  R.,  New  York  3403 

App,  W.  A.,  Cleveland,  O.  3015 
Ardill  &  Co.,  John,  Leeds,  Eng,    3451,  3453 

Ariel  Touring  Cbtb^  London,  Ont,  11 74 
Ariel  Wheel  Club,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.  701 
AnnamdoXM'lle)Loui8e,  Montreal,  ^mt.  3463 

Arming,  G.  A.,  Hobart,  Ttu.  3313 

Annington,  F.  B.,  Providence,  R.  I.  839 

Armstrong,  R.  L.,  Augusta,  Ky.  990 

Armstrong,  T.  H.,  Augusta,  Ky.  1159 

Arnold,  H.  B.,  New  Britain,  Ct.  1060 

Ashley,  L.  L.,  Norwood,  N.  Y.  3648 

Ashton,  Frank  J.,  Rockford,  III.  1343 

Atherton,  E.  H.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1558 

Atkins,  Fred.  E.,  Waterbury,  Vt.  31 14 

Atkinson,  Geo.  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  319 

Atkinson,  W.  J.,  Baltimore,  Md.  318 

Atterbury,  Grosvenor,  New  York  1076 

Atwater,  Geo.  S.,  Massillon,  O.  3164 

Atwater,  Robert  H.,  Orange,  N.  J.  160 

Atwater,  Wm.  E.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  798 

Atwater,  Wyllys,  New  Haven,  Ct.  765 

Atwood,  L.  L.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3081 

Augusta  House t  Augusta,  Me.  1843 

Auschutz,  Louis  F.,  Ansonia,  Ct.  3623 

Austin,  E.  K.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  947 

Austin,  M.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1566 

Austin,  W.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  953 

Auten,  James  W.,  New  York  1147 

Avery,  F.  C,  Elgin,  111.,  1475 

Axtell,  W.  C,  Gardner,  Mass.  477 

Ayer,  Ira,  Morristown,  N.  J.  376 

Ayers,  Burley  B.,  Chic^o,  111.  476 

Aylsworth,  Robert  M.,  Milford,  Pa.  302$ 

Ayres,  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2588 

Babcock,  G.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2439 

Badcock,  Joseph,  London,  Eug.  2533 

Baetjer,  J.  Frank,  Baltimore,  Md.  555 

Bagg,  Ernest  N.,  Boston,  Mass.  1184 
Bagg,  Harvey  D.,  W.  Springfield,  Mass.  1872 

Bagg,  John  S.,  Springfield,  Masa^  142 1 

Bagg,  Lyman  H.,  New  York  2340 

Bagg,  Sam.  F.,  Watertown.  N.  Y.  3078 


Bagg,  W.  S.,  W.  Springfield,  Mass.  1240 

Bagg*s  Hotel,  Utica,  N.  Y.  2104 

Baggot,  E.  P.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  2377 

Bagley,  W.  J.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2170 

B«got,  H.  C,  Melbourne,  Vict,  2965 

Bahmann,  Wm.,  Cincinnati,  O.  3990 

Bailey,  Herbert  M.,  Portland,  Me.  448 

Bailey,  L.  Herbert,  Baltimore,  Md.  2913 

Bain,  Kenneth,  Oamaru,  N.  Z.  1702 

Baird,  A.  W.,  New  York  2740 

Baird,  E.  P.,  New  York  1434 

Baird,  G.  D.,  New  York  2447 

Baird,  R.  B.,  New  York  3005 

Baird,  Wm.  Raimond,  New  York  8 

Baird,  W.  T.,  New  York  3006 

Baker,  £.  H.,  Cumberland,  Md.  161 5 

Baker,  J.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  2670 

Baker,  J.  O.,  Indianola,  la.  3960 

Baldwin,  R.  B.,  Covington,  Ky.  3117 

Baldwin,  S.  W.,  N.  Y.  1675 
Baldwin,  W.  L.,  Stamford,  Ct.      27,  1 730*3 1 

Baldwin  House,  Hagerstown,  Md.  1331 

Ball,  Geo.  F.,  Bellows  Falls,  Vt  3144 

Ball,  W.  M.,  Boston,  Mass.  335 

Ballard,  Clarence  W.,  Chics^o,  111.  590 

Ballou,  John  S.,  Boston,  Mass.  363 

Bancroft,  George,  Brooklyn  N.  Y.  1672 

Ba9iey  House,  Myerstown,  Pa.  3077 

Bitr  House,  Brownsville,  Pa.  1805 

Barclay,  John,  Cincinnati,  O.  1936 

Bardeen,  C.  W.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.  1683 

Axr<Aiv//^tfMir,  Rutland,  Vt.  2294 

Bardy,  N.  R.,  Rutland,  Vt.  3165 

Barker,  John,  Miriield,  Eng,  3680 

Barkman,  A.  B.,  New  York  1370 

Barlow,  Chas.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3310 

Barlow,  F.  G.  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2337 

Barlow,  G.  H.,  Corry,  Pa.  2039 

Barnes,  B.  G.,  Corpus  Christi,  Tex.  1036 

Barnes,  E.  W.,  New  York  3988 
Barnes,  Harry  S.,  Orange  Valley,  N.  J.  1373 

Barnes,  J.  M.,  St.  John,  N.  B.  1836 

Barnes,  S.  G.,  Giinnell,  la.  3330 

Bamet,  E.,  Canton,  O.  193 1 

Bamett,  E.  G.,  Springfield,  O.  1700 

Barrett  Hotel,  Henderson,  Ky.  3384 

Barrick,  C.  M.,  Washington,  D.  C.  875 
Bartholomew,  C.  C,  Ogdensburg,  N.  Y.  3753 

Bartlett,  Geo.  F.  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1929 

Bartlett,  J.  Kemp,  Baltimore,  Md.,  1920 

Barton,  John  M.,  Rome,  N.  Y.  3485 

Barton,  Lewis  N.,  Winchester,  Va.  1346 

Barton,  O.  M.,  Rutland,  Vt.  3166 


73^ 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Baaaett,  Abbot,  Boston,  Mass.  8>8 

Bassett,  C.  F.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3084 

^ssett,  Harry  J.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  3176 

Bassett  Hotel,  New  Britain,  Ct  1314 

Beuseti  House,  Birmingham,  Ct.  987 

Batchdder,  C.  D.,  Lancaster,  N.  H.  307 

BaUt  Home,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2304 

Bates,  J.  R.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2163 

Bates,  W.  G.,  New  York  1389 

Batterfield,  Arthur  R.,  Hobart,  Tas,  32 ix 

Battersby,  James,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3265 

Bawn,  Chas.  £.,  London,  Eng.  2628 

Baxter,  Caleb  G.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1669 

Bayer,  J.  E.,  Grinnell,  la.  2947 

Bayne,  Geo.  H.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  654 

Beach,  Geo.  O.,  New  York  3181 

Beach,  Leonard,  Ojata,  Dak.  3166 

Beach,  William,  Orange,  N.  J.  2107 

Beal,  £.  E.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  676 

Beal,  Junius  E.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  323 

Bean,  Clarence  H.,  Oshkosh,  Wis.  2658 

Beatty,  H.  W.,  Arlington,  Minn.  1686 
Beavis,  Frank  S.,  Peoria,  111.           X90,  2493 

Beavis,  Horatio  S.,  Macomb,  111.  2992 

Beck,  jr.,  Fred  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  553 

Beck,  John  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  370 

Beck,  W.  L.,  Lockport,  N.  Y.  1815 

Becker,  T.  M.,  Portsmouth,  O.  2x13 

Beckwith,  E.  L.,  (Galveston,  Tex.)  319 
Beckwith,  N.  Mahlon,  New  York    5x2,  x6ox 

Beckwith,  T.  S.,  Qeveland,  O.  1916 

Beddo,  Horace,  Louisville,  Ky.  30x0 
Bedford  Cycling  Club,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2437 

Bedford  House,  Bedford,  Pa.  x6iS 

Beehe  House,  Elyria,  O.  2352 
Beers  &  Co.,  J.  B.,  New  Yoik       2567,  2568 

Beers,  Henry  A.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  x2X5 

Beers,  Jas.  L.,  New  York  2275 

Begg,  W.  M.,  London,  Oni.  826 

Beggs,  Chas.  N.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  238 

Beggs,  W.  F.,  Paterson,  N.  J.  479 

Belden,  David  A.,  Aurora,  III.  X642 

Belden,  F.  E.,  Hartford,  Ct.  790 

Bell,  Grant,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  1699 

Bell,  H.  H.,  Halifax,  H.  S.  X499 

Bell,  jr.,  Henry  H.,  New  York  2x48 

Bell,  Malcolm,  Shrewsbury,  N.  J.  609 

Benedict,  A.  J.,  Little  Falls,  N.  Y.  2657 

Benedict,  Gilbert  S.,  Stamford,  Ct.  680 

Benedict,  J.  G.,  Lebanon,  O.  1229 

Benjamin,  Alfred,  Lincoln  Park,  N.  J.  399 

Benjamin,  B.  S.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  2354 

Benjamin,  T.  Eugene,  New  York  X967 


Benjamin,  W.  R.,  New  Yoric  1324 

Bennett,  A.  A.,  Cincinnati,  O.  tiax 

Bennett,  A.  P.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J,  1336 

Bennett,  Edgar  R.,  Amherst,  Mass.  3359 

Bennett, 'G.  W.,  London,  Etig.  2941 

Bennett,  H.  M.,  Manchester,  N.  H.  3312 

Benninghofen,  P.,  Hamilton,  O.  1313 
Benson,  Clarence  E. ,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  3690 
Benson,  Ernest  R.,  Cambridgeport,  Mass.  266 

Beigen,  Frank,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  2347 

Bergen,  J.  B.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  45 

Beiger,  L.  J.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  228 

Bernard,  Chas.  E.,  Elgin,  III.  1697 

Bemhard,  Perdval  J.,  Jamaica,  N.  Y.  1497 

Berry,  G.  M.,  Colombia,  S.  C.  1296 

Besserer,  John  W.,  Bozeman,  Mont.  1360 

Best,  James  B.,  Kinderhook,  N.  Y.  797 

Beswidc,  Will,  Auckland,  H.  Z.  X40S 

Bettison,  P.  R.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1423 

Betts,  Frederick  H.,  New  York  1077 

Bevin,  Leander  A.,  New  York  1x54 

Bibb,  Harry,  Montgomery,  Ala.  1945 

Bick,  Charles,  Greenville,  Pa.  1579 

Bick,  Eli,  Greensbuiig,  Pa.  x8o8 

Bickford,  L.  M.,  Portland,  Me.  284s 

Bidwell,  Geo.  H.,  Ulica,  N.  Y.  X553 

Bidwell,  G.  R.,  New  York  9-1  x 
Bidwell  &.  Co.,  Geo.  R.,  New  York  271 5-2723 

Bidwell,  H.  E.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  3244 

Biederman,  Chas.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  2805 

Biette,  Harry,  Woodstock,  Oni.  935 

Bily,  J.  G.,  338 

Binford,  Fred,  Pawtucket,  R.  I.  2997 

Bingham,  C.  H.,  Utrecht,  HeOand  866 

Bingham,  Wm.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  899 

Binns,  Henry,  Angora,  Asia  Minor  3297 

Binns,  Walter,  Salford,  Eng.  3632 

Bird,  Rollin  R.,  Waterbury,  Ct.  530 

Birdsall,  Edward  T.,  New  York  398 

Bishop,  Phil.  H.,  Sittingboume,  Bug.  3089 

Bishop,  Roland  A.,  Hobart,  Tas,  3039 

Bissell,  Frank  C,  Neenah,  Wis.  3559 

Bissell,  W.  S.,  Bu£Falo,  N.  Y.  1467 

Bittinger,  Geo.  S.,  Leadville,  Col.  1639 

Bixby,  James  E.,  Dayton,  N.  Y.  499 

Black,  Owen  J.,  Albion,  Ind.  3345 

Black,  Wm.  M.,  Halifax,  N,  S.  xxi 

Biackham,  Geo.  E.,  Dunkirk,  N.  Y.  1809 

Blake,  Henry,  New  Yoik  1602 

Blair,  G.  H.,  Truro,  H.  S.  X038 

Biasing,  H.  W.,  Henderson,  Minn.  Ms 

Blenett,  jr.,  Wm.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  897 

Block,  J.,  Mcsoow,  Rmsm  jt48 


Breck,  Oo. ,  Ponland.  Or.  ■ 

Bccck,  M.  B.,  SpringfitW,  Mia.  ■ 

Brertton,  Jimci  1.,  Washingion,  D.  C.  . 
BniH,  Wbinoa,  BiIlimoR,  M d.  i 

Bnwcr,  Swrling,  Ocnland,  a  i 


unbool,  y 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


Blsn,  A.  £.,  Torsnla,  OM.  i\ 

BloodgDod,  W.  D  ,  Brooklyn,  N.  V.  • 

Beak,  W,  C,  U  Ray,  N.  y.  %; 

Bavdaun,  C.  E.  C,  UanhiUiown,  la.  i 

.Baehm,G,Habokeii,  N.  J.  i; 

Bsccr.J.  H.FindUy.O.  ic 

BolwHl,  J.  A.,  HiliTilk,  N  J.  u 

BoltOD,  AlCnd  M  ,  SydtDhuo,£'iv  n 

Bood,  Slephen  D  ,  Fon  Wayne,  lud  i; 

BooiKli,  D.  Ulakc,  Kliubelb,  N.  J.  k 

BoDDClt,  L.  B.,  Eliiabelh,  N.  J.  ii 

Book,  W.  H.,  New  York  ■( 

Boolh,  Rklian],  Hadlocd,  Hio.  it 

Bo«h,  jr.,  S.  F.,  San  Fnncuco,  Cal.  at 

Bon,  WiihiDgloo  B.,  Baldnum,  Hd.  ; 

Bom,  Chu.  A.,  Clblor,  N.  Y.  ; 

Barton,  Fred  S.,  Clevelind,  O.  i: 

B«aon,  F.  H.,  Bouoa.Maw  i 

BttlmAihnxKm  Library,  Mau.  >) 

Boaironh,  N.  C,  aeveland,  O.  jc 

BoDdriai,-  jr. ,  L. ,  Cohoei,  N.  Y.  il 

Bourn,  A.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  I 

BovmF,  Edgar  K.,  New  York  j 

Boullel),  ThoRiai,  York,  fof,  >i 

Bowdluh,  I.  S.,  BnwUrn,  N.  Y.  x 
BmdaiH  Call.  Library,  Bninnrick,  Me.  i: 

Boweo,  E.  N.,  BuSalo,  N.  Y.  i: 

Bowen,  P.  J.,  lloban,  Ttu.  >l 

Bom,  D.  H.,  NewbuEh,  N.  V.  i. 

BowErEnd,  Ceo.  J.,  Admn,  Mich.  I 

Davcn,  Ralph,  Creeniille,  Pa.  i; 

Banker,  C.  H.,  Meiiden,  Ct.  ii 

Bawlei,  F.  W.,  aenland,  O.  i 

Bowlea,  R.  J.,  BnEhlon,  0*1.  i; 

Bowlci,  Wm.,  CaellemailrT,  In.  y 

Bowman,  H,  N.,  Springfield,  MaiL  < 

Bowtell,  It.,  S.,  RulUnd,  Vl  ii 

Boyce,  Chai.  5.,  Ponland,  Or.  ii 

Boyd,  Chat.  H.,  Baldamre,  Hi.  • 

Vaji,  T.  H,,  Ardmort,  Pa.  i 

Boyle,  Sunuel  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  i 

Bncketl,  F.  H.,  Branleban,  Vt  .  ij 
Bnd«n,  Fred  J.,  S] 
Bradlord,  Edward  A 
Bradford,  William,  ] 
Bradley,  E.  K.,  Mei 
Bradley,  Wm.,  Kind 
Biadley,  W  H.,  S» 
Brainard.  J.  E.,  Mei 
Braiited,  Otii  S.,  Br 


Britain,  C.  Pliny,  Ballimt 

Briiiol  Litrarj,  BriRol,  Pa. 

Bmadbenl,  G.  R.,  Melbourne,  Vi. 
Biwk,  Fred  W.,  Briilol,  Ent- 
Br-xUm  Pt-Hic  Litrrry,  N.  Y. 

Bcnjimin,  Holynke,  Miu 
f/emt,  BrallleborD,  Vl. 
I  A'nW,  Newfoui 


J[  Haven, 
C.  A.,  Genoa,  IlL 


Chaa.  R.,  Brmklyn,  t 


C.  Roai 


e.  N.  Y. 


Elmer  E.,  MaucheUer,  N.  H.     ]il 

E.L.,  Rahway,  N.J.  a4: 

Fred  A.,  Philadelphiii,  Pa.  iji 

Frank  H..  Rockitle,  Ct.  fl 

C.  C,  Elbabelh,  H.  J.  4' 

Geo.  R.,  Philadelphia,  Va.  19I 

Geo.  T. ,  BrooUya,  N.  Y.  to. 

Ceo.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  V.  9j 

H.  D.,  Weedaport,  N.  V.  4! 
H.  H.,  Wappin£er>a  Falti,  N.  Y.  s 

HcTlKrt  L.,  HitridiurE,  Pb.  ]< 

John  G.,  DanvSIe,  Pa.  4; 


738 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Brown,  W.  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1676 

Browne,  John  T.,  Patenon,  N.  J.  iai6 

Browne,  William  G.,  Orlando,  Fla.  886 

Brobaker,  J.  C.  &  P.,  Aahland,  Ky.  3 191 

BnuuwickHaUij  Titusville,  Pa.  1535 

Bryan,  G.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1978 

Bryan,  H.  R.,  Hudson,  N.  Y.  758 

Bryant,  W.  A.,  New  York  1135 

Bryce,  Wm.  £.,  Indianapolb,  Ind.  a  126 

Buchanan,  C.  P.,  Newport,  Ky.  2734 

Buchanan,  jr.,  James,  Gatesboad,  EH£r.  3753 

Buchanan,  W.  H.,  Antigonbh,  N.  S.  1322 

Buck,  Livy  Jay,  Emporia,  Kan.  3506 
Buckingham,  Harry  W.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  625 

Budden,  A.  H.,  Sandhurst,  K«r/.  3051 

Budds,  Geo.  L.,  Sydney,  J^.  S.  W.  2886 

Buehler,  L.  M.,  Gettysburg,  Pa.  1255 

Buell,  Frank  S.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3326 
Bull  &  Bowen,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.         2256-2262 

Bull,  Sumner,  Walden,  N.  Y.  2571 

Bull,  Wm.  H.,  West  Springfield,  Mass.  2013 

Bull,  WUl  S.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  301 

Bullock,  Carl,  Worcester,  Mass.           •  3183 

Bunner,  H.  C,  New  York  917 

Burbank,  J.  P.,  Boston,  Mass.  693 

Burch,  jr.,  John  G.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  513 

Burchall,  John  A.,  New  York  1292 

Burdekin,  R.  £.,  York,  Eug^.         2332,  2333 

Burdett,  J.  B.,  Nashville,  Tenn.     2387,  239s 

Burkert,  C.  O.,  Ashland,  Pa.  3269 

Burklin,  Wm.  C.  H.,  Portland,  Or.  2673 

Buxley,  C.  F.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1727 

Buro,  David  W.  M.,  Wellington,  N.  Z.  1882 

Burn,  Edgar  Hine,  Dunedin,  M  Z.  i88x 

Burnett,  J.  G.  D.,  New  York  2810 

Burnett,  P.,  Dover,  Del.  3009 

Burnett,  W.  Kendall,  Abertbeen,  Scot.  841 

Buroham,  Edw.  P.,  Newton,  Mass.  3075 

Burnham,  W.  H.,  Adrian,  Mich.  431 

Burns,  D.  C,  Bedford,  Pa.  161 7 

Burns,  £.  F.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  15  is 

Burpee,  Herman  N.,  Roddord,  111.  683 
Burr,  T.  S.,  New  York                           470-71 

Burr,  W.  W.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2168 

Burrell,  B.  W.,  Weynurath,  Mass.  602 

Buirill,  Charles,  Weymouth,  N.  S,  889 

Burrill,  Frank  H.,  Wakefield,  Mass.  2546 

Burroughs,  Fred.  C,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  3140 

Burrowes,  Chris  F.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3277 

Burston,  Geo.  W.,  Melbourne,  Viet.  .  X138 

Burt,  Geo.  H.,  Hartford,  Ct  255 

Burt,  H.  L.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2169 

Burt,  Wm.  Vinal,  Boston,  Mass.  2307 


Burtis,  C.  W.,  Titusville,  Pa.  13^ 

Burtis,  E.  H..  SnuthviUe,  N.  J.  15 

Bush,  E.  A.,  New  York 
Bush,  jr.,  Geo.  M.,  Peoria,  111. 
Butcher,  Joseph,  Bostcm,  Mass. 
Butcher,  Nelson  R.,  Toronto,  Ont, 
Butler,  Augustus  R.,  W.  Brighton,  N.  Y 
Butler,  jr.,  John  T.,  Richmond,  Va. 
BuUer,  W.  H.,  Olean,  N.  Y. 
Butt,  W.  L.,  Oamaru,  AT.  Z. 
Buttle,  George  M.,  New  York 
Busby  &  Co.,  G.  N.,  Philadelphia, 
Cabell,  James  B.,  Henderson,  Ky. 
Cade,  S.  I.,  Brownsboro,  Tex. 
Cain,  George  E.,  Lynn,  Mass. 
CaldweU  Houu,  Caldwell,  N.  J. 
Caldwell,  James,  Elgin,  111. 
Calkins,  Chas.  A.,  Tomah,  Wi^ 
Calkins,  W.  Scott,  Millville,  N 
Callan,  Hugh,  Glasgow,  Scot. 
Cameron,  Alex.,  Brooklyn,  N. 
Cameron,  G.  D.,  London,  O^- 
Cameron,  W.  H.,  St.  Josepl 
Camp,  S.  P.,  Trenton,  N.  J 
Campbell,  A.  B.,  Bradford 
Campbell,  D.  R.,  Westvill 
Campbell,  M.  F.,  New  H. 
Campbell,  Neil,  Niagara  . 
Campbell,  R.  E.,  Florid.^ 
Campbell.  Thos.  P.,  Hov 
Canary,  D.  J.,  Meriden 
Candidus,  E.  W.,  Broo' 
Candy,  Chas.  C,  Ft.  I 

Canedy,  C.  F.,  New  V 
Caner,  EdwandA.,  V, 
Canfield,  jr.,  F.  D.,  1 
Canfield,  W.  W.,  R. 
Capell,  Will  H.,  M 
Carberry,  John,  V\ 
Card,  Eugene,  Sb- 
Cari,.John  C,  A- 
Carmansville  F.. 
Carmichal,  W.  h 
Carney,  L.  J.,  I 
Carpenter,  A.  < 
Carpenter,  Ed 
Carpenter,  jr. 
Carpenter,  jr 
Carr,  Frank. 
Carter,  C.  ( '< 
Carter,  E.  1 
Carter,  H.  . 


740 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Cohmmdg  HaUl^  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1763 

Co<ton  &  Co.,  New  York,               a8o6,  3807 

Colvin,  Fred  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  131 1 

Comes,  Arthur  N.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2047 

Comley,  William,  Lincoln  Park,  N.  J.  1108 

Comstock,  W.  C,  Cave  City,  Ky.  2093 

Condon,  T.  G.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  178 

Conger,  A.  L.,  Adrian,  Mich.  334 

Conger,  Kenyon  B.,  Akron,  O.  2466 
CoHgresSt  T/u  Library  qf^  Washington,  D.  C. 

Conklin,  C.  C,  Scranton,  Pa.  2199 

Conklin,  Wm.  G.,  New  York  2999 

Conkling,  Howard,  New  York  1338 

Connell,  W.  L.,  Scranton,  Pa.  2x96 

Conner,  E.  V.,  New  York  2633 

Connolly,  B.  P.,  Scranton,  Pa.  36 

Conover,  Chas.  A.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  320 

Continental  HoUly  Newark.^N.  J.  745 

Cook  Houte,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  1092 

Cook,  C.  S.,  Hanover,  N.  H.  13 10 

Cook,  Frank  H.,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.  2105 

Cook,  Fred  R.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  2535 

Cook,  Geo.  R.,  Simcoe,  Ont,  127S 

Cooke,  Chas.  D.,  Paterson,  N.  J.  189 

Cookman,  T.  E.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2444 

Coolidge,  E.  L.,  Lowell,  Mass.  1316 

Coombe,  F.  E.,  Kincardine,  Ont.  1741 

Cooper,  F.,  Christchurch,  N.  Z.  1886 

Cooper,  W.  H.,  London,  Ont.  825 

Copeland,  A.  D.,  Springfield,  Mass.  327S 

Copland,  James,  Sydney,  AT.  S.  IV.  2057 

Copp,  Wm.  A.,  New  York  462 

Corbett,  J.  E.,  Whitehall,  N.  Y.  2467 

Corbin,  Albert  F.,  New  Britain,  Ct.  1059 

Corbin,  G.  E.,  St.  Johns,  Mich.  1653 

Cordingly,  C,  London,  Eng.           869,  3360 

Corey,  H.  D.,  Boston,  Mass.  2373 

Corken,  Chas  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  1239 

Cormick,  H.  M.,  East  Portland,  Or.  2394 

Corriveaut,  A.  J.,  St.  Johnsbury,  Vt.  2473 

Corson,  Ehner  E.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2316 

Corson,  E.  H.,  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  717 
Conon,  (Miss)  Mabel  E.,  East  Rochester, 

[N.  H.  2370 

Cortlandt  IVhetimen,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  542 

Corthell,  W.  M.,  Springfield,  Mass.  ^9 

Corwin,  Chas.  E.,  Newburg,  N.  Y.  1172 

Cosack,  jr.,  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1822 

Cossum,  C.  F.,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.  702 

Coster,  Charles,  St.  John,  N.  B.  2054 

Cotant,  E.  S.,  Des  Moines,  la.  1090 

Cottrell,  F.,  Oamaru,  N.  Z.  1705 
Cottrell,  M.  Bourdon,  Friendship^  N.Y.  1708 


Conghenour,  WiD,  Irwin,  Pa.  218a 

Coughlan,  J.  C,  Christchurch,  N.  Z.  1888 

Couser,  M.  W.,  Cornwall,  N.  Y.  971 

Covert,  M.  F.,  Flushing,  L.  I,  s8oo 

Cowan,  J.  F.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  3033 

Cowen,  A.  H.,  Petaluma,  Cal.  1746 

Cowhick,  W.  S.,  Cheyenne,  Wy.  3354 

Cowl,  Clarkson,  New  York  300 

Cox,  Chas.  M.,  Salem,  Or.  2745 

Coy,  W.  H.,  Kingston,  Ont,  907 

Craig,  B.  J.,  Springfield,  Maaa.  1034 

Cramer,  Geo.  H.,  Lyons,  N.  Y.  2267 

Cramer,  W.  P..  Albia,  la.  3333 

Crandall,  C.  L.,  Leonardsville,  N.  Y.  2655 

Crane,  A.  S.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  2346 

Crane,  jr.,  J.  E.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  2103 

Crane,  Samuel  C,  Elizabeth,  N*  J>  3284 

Crapo,  F.  H.,  Concord,  Mass.  3314 

Craven,  Geo.  F.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1363 

Crawford,  Edw.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3188 

Crawford,  Gea  F.,  Kankakee,  111.  1094 

Crawford,  Newton  G.,.Louisville,  Ky.  1361 

Crawford,  Wm.  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  337 

Craycroft,  B.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2445 

Creagh,  C,  Brick  Church,  N.  J.  1576 

Cressman,  N.  F.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  47 

Cresswell,  A.,  Sandhurst,  Viet,  3063 

Cressy,  F.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1560 

Critchfield,  E.  E.,  Mt.  Pleasant,  Pa.  1986 

Crichton,  Thos.  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2335. 
Crittenden,  A.  W.,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.    588 

Crofton,  W.  d'A.,  Welwyn,  En^^.  1974 

Cromwell,  S.  L.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2621 

Crosiy  Hou$e^  Defiance,  O.  2343 

Crosby,  C.  R.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1557 

Crosby,  Frank,  Elgin,  III.  i^f^ 

Crosby,  James,  Bangor,  Me.  iioo 

Grossman,  Henry  S.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1191 

Grossman,  M.  R.,  Springfiekl,  Maaau  1188 
Grossman,  W.  F.,  Washington          637,  873 

Crothers,  A.  M.,  Springfield,  0.  -1911 

Crouch,  Thomas  E.,  Branford,  Ct.  801 

Crumley,  Harry,  Mt  Vernon,  O.  440 

Crow,  William,  Dunedin,  N.  Z*  2767 

Crowe,  W.,  Halifax,  N,  S.  659. 

Crowle,  John  D.,  Staunton,  Va.  1371 

Croser,  W.  M.,  Trenton,  N.  J.  1772 

Cudworth,  H.  J.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  1564 

Culver,  J.  Dana,  Whitehall,  N.  Y.  2706 

Gumming,  Thomas,  Stamford,  Ct.  2507 

Cummings,  S.  W. ,  Truro,  AT.  S.  X040 

Cunningham,  Arthtu',  Boston,  Mass.  453 

Cunningham,  A.  M.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  463 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


CanDtDgliam  Co.,  The,  BoHon,  Mu>. 

Cumo,  jr.,  John  P.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  i 

Cmiicr.A.  F.,  NewYoric  i 

CuiTier.  MahlOD  D..  LawrEncc,  Mass.  t 
CuFtiee,  W.  J.,  RDchaier,  N.  Y. 
Ciulu,  FtstL  Z.,  Dclrdl,  Mich. 

Conis,  Howard,  Waierbury,  Ct  i 
Ciulis,  J.  Aitbur,  Reading,  Pa. 

Curtii,  J.  W..  New  York  i 

Cunis,  San.  J.,  Buaalo.  M,  Y.  j 
Cunis,  Wm.  B.,  Caienoiii,  N.  Y. 

Ciuhing,  D.  Alben,  Chicopet.  Mais,  i 
CushingsA  Bailey,  Batlin»re,  Hd.  }i]6, ). 

Ciuhman,  A.,  Bridgewaler,  Mass.  i. 

Crnhnun,  W.  M.,  Partland,  Or.  s< 

Cuiur,  WilKXi,  BordenlDwn,  K.  J.  i: 

Daggelt,  Wm.  H.,  Indianapnlii,  Ind.  i: 
Dalian,  Joseph  C,  Bosion,  Mass.  1648, 1 
Da]Ion,Wni.  E.,  Fl.  Leavenwonh,  Kan,  1: 

Daly,  John  J„  Newark,  N.  J.  ■> 

Danell,  Ednrd,  Landau,  Eki.  i: 

Danlonh,  E.  C,  Providence,  R.  I.     .  1 

Bankers,  £.,  Windsor,  Vicl.  it 

Daniels,  George  S.,  Kew  York  1. 

Daniels,  M.  O.,  Ri^es,  O.  1 

Danielson,  J.  E,  Bnffala,  N.  Y.  li 

DoH  Swuiu^'t  Salart,  Harlem,  K.  Y,  u 

Daniiger,  Samuel,  Chicago,  ID.  i; 
Darby,  George  B„  Phila,,  Pa.         r  j6S,  51 

Danicir,  W.  W.,  Curabertand.  Hd.  ri 

Darlmfuli  CeSigt  Liirary,  N.  H.  18 

Dam,  Robert  R.,  Wellibaro,  Pa.  14 

Daiuch,  Pierre  Geo.,  Baltimore,  Md.  1 

Davenpon,  Edgar  L,,  Canton,  Pa.  t^ 

Davenpon.  F.  E.,  Aubnm,  Ind.  14 

Dawnport,  Harry  B.,  Canton.  Pa.  14 

Davidson,  Frank  E.,  New  York  14 

Davidson,  Henry,  Woodslock,  Oil.  ri 

Danes,  David,  St.  Louis,  Mo,  j 
Daviea,  H.  C,  Monrr--'-   '" 
Davies,  Orel  E.,  Spri: 

Davi>|  Chas.  j!,  San. 
Davis,  Chas.  S„  Juik 
DavB,  D.  L.,  Salt  La 
Davis,  K  C,  Nonha: 
Oivii,  Ed.  L.,  Schen. 


Day,  Elmer  A.,  Burke,  N.  Y.  1 

Day,  Edw.  P.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  1 

Day,  George  H.,  Hinlord,  Ct, 
Day,  jr.,  James  H.,  Ithaca,  N.  V.  r 

Day,  S.  H,,  East  Greenwich,  R.  I. 
Dayft  Raitbeck,  Bradford,  £xj-.  jrii,  3 
DaymoDd,  A.  G.,  Sandhunl,  CeI,  3 

Dean,  J.  S.,  Boston,  Mass. 
Deao.  Norman  R.,  l>hiUdel[4iia,  Pa. 
Deans,  Frank  A.,  Wellsbaro,  Pa.     ejS,  1 
Deats,  C.  C,  Weissport,  Pa.  3 

DeflaroncdH,  A.,  Paris,  Frmct  1 

DeBhiis,  Wm.  M.,  Annapolis,  A'.  S.        i 
DeCamp,  Frank  E„  Stamford,  Ct. 
DcKor 


,  H.  G.,  New 
t,  Harry  L.,h 


wYorfc 


DeForeil,  Johnston,  New  York 
DeForett,  Lockwoad,  New  York 
DeForat,  R.  W.,  New  York 
DeGraaf,  Wm.  H,,  New  York  ' 
Deguire,  Chas.,  Frcdericktown,  Mo. 
DeKlyn,  John  Q.,  andnnili,  O. 
DrlMmm  Hiaai,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y, 
Demarest,  J.  A.,  PlainGeld,  N.  J. 
DemoresI,  Wm.  H.,  New  York 
Demphrey,  Edwin  R.,  Jamestown,  N 
Demple,  W.  K,  HJifcut,  I/.  S, 
DeMunn,  S.  C.,  Providence,  R,  I. 

Denslow,  P.  E.,  Caienavia,  N.  V. 
Denlon,  S.  S.,  Coming,  N.  Y. 
Z>mnf/w>,  Devon,  Pa. 
Dewell,  Henry  C,  London.  Emt. 
Dewey,  O.  E.,  Mansfield,  Pa. 
Dewhurst,  John,  Bury,  Eif. 
Dewin,  David.  New  York 
Deiler,  F.  B.,  New  Haven,  Ct. 


Davokina,  R.  J.,  Wu 


742 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


.  Dixon,  Fred  A.,  Oswego,  N.  Y.  1864 

Dixon,  Robert,  Greenock,  Sc^.  3015 

Dobbie,  John,  Thorold,  Onl.  777 
Dobbins,  Edwin  A.,  Middletown,  N.  Y.    752 

Dobbins,  Frank  S.,  Allentown,  Pa.  1183 
Dockham,  Chas.  M.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  3365 

Dodges  HoUlt  Rochester,  N.  H.  2364 

Dodge,  Charles,  Bloomington,  111.  3513 

Dodge,  Chas.  Richards,  Boston,  Mass.  1633 

Dodge,  jr.,  H.  W.,  Austin,  Tex.  356 

Dods,  A.  Wilson,  Silver  Creek,  N.  Y.  1937 

Dodson,  J.  S.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  1438 

Doland,  S.  C,  Newark,  N.  J.  1340 

Dominion  Hoitse,  Annapolis,  N.  S.  1846 

Donaldson,  W.  £.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1813 

Donly,  A.  W.,  Simcoe,  Oni.  1377 
Donly,  Hal.  B.,  Simcoe,  Oni,             534,  535 

Donough,  C.  R.,  Myerstown,  Pa.  2077 

Doolittle,  Perry  E.,  Toronto,  On/.  843 

Dorion,  S^v&re,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  844 

Dorr,  (Mrs.)  J.  C.  R.,  Rutland,  Vt.  3357 

Dorsey,  Frank,  Glenwood,  Md.  3980 

Dortsch,  J.  R.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3464 

Dotter,  Will  S.,  Reading,  Pa.  976 

Doty,  W.  H.,  Yonkers,  N.  Y.  3153 

Doughty,  Benj.  W.,  Jamaica,  N.  Y.  1498 

Douglas,  F.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  951 

Douglas,  H.  C,  East  Orange,  N.  J.  1632 

Dowling,  G.  T.,  Geveland,  O.  3833 

Dowling,  James  D.,  Camden,  N.  J.  3397 

Downey,  S.  B.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  1364 

Downey  Hornet  Waynesburg,  Pa.  1806 

Downing,  C.  H.,  Peoria,  111.  3503 

Downing,  S.  C,  Yonkers,  N.  Y.  3775 

Downing,  jr.,  Wm.  M.,  Bristol,  Pa.  1788 

Downs,  A.  O.,  Riverhead,  L.  I.  3375 

Downs,  James  P.,  Newark,  N.  J.  396 

Downs,  M.  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  1747 

Doyle,  C.  E.,  London,  Eng.  1973 

Drake,  D.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1577 

Drake,  H.  Scudder,  Westboro,  Mass.  100 

DroMcher  Hoiuet  Curwinsville,  Pa.  2393 

Drew,  E.  R.,  Boston,  Mass.  496 

Drew,  Fred.  M.,  Ansonia,  Ct.  911 

Drew,  G.  Fred,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  2575 
Driscoll,  Cornelius  T.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1417 

Dritcon,  John,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3358 

Drown,  J.  W.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  53 

Dmilard,  Frank  E.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1619 

Dryer,  J.  B.,  Tuskegee,  Ala.  1891 

DnBofs,  F.  E.,  W.  Randolph,  Vt  341 

Dubois,  Frank  G.,  New  York  25 

Docker,  Henry  £.,  .Springfield,  Mass.  349 


Dudley,  Chas.  B.,.  Altoona,  Pa.  2034 

Dudley,  Chas.  E.,  Detroit,  Mich.  668 

Dudley.  W.  W.,  WhitinsviUe,  Mass.  308 

Duff,  James  C,  Charlestown,  Mass.  10S4 
Duffill,  T.  P.,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.   3574, 3873 

Dunahue,  Will  J.,  Sinclairville,  N.  Y.  523 

Dunbar,  A.  D.,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  544 

Dunbar,  P.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  ion 

Dunbar,  W.  R.,  Cleveland,  O.  3780 

Duncan,  A.  T.,  Hamilton,  Ont.  2754 

Duncan,  Bowman,  Nashv-ille,  Tenn.  2379 

Duncan,  Wm.,  Allegheny  City,  Pa.  597 

Dunn,  A.  P.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  1203 

Dunn,  James  R.,  Massillon,  O.  1914 

Dunn,  W.  Ellis,  Bloomington,  111.  2119 

Dunn,  W.  E.,  Noblesville,  Ind.  1341 

Dunnell,  Alex.  R.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1404 

Dunnell,  F.  L.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  357 

Durham,  J.  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2854 

Durkee,  Albert,  Chicago,  111.  1347 

Durrie,  John,  Brick  Church,  N.  J.  2911 

Duryea,  Charles  E.,  Wyoming,  III.  106 
Dusenberry,Chas.  S.,  Middletown,  N.Y.2339 

Duston,  John  S.,  Newark,  N.  J.  382 

Dutton,  Wm.,  London,  Eng.  3142 

Dwyer,  Thomas  J.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  853 

Dyer,  S.  F.,  Christchurch,  A^.  Z.  1887 

Dyotte,  E.  J.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1016 

Eady,  B.  F.,  West  Point,  Ga.  932 

Engle  Hotels  Gettysburg,  Pa.  1254 

Eakins,  Arthur  W.,  Yarmouth,  A^.  5*.  1892 

Eakins,  W.  G.,  Toronto,  Oni.  586 

Earhart,  M.,  Indiana,  Pa.  1899 

Eaton,  Alfred,  New  York  1605 

Elaton,  A.  L.,  Ottumwa,  la.  244 

Eaton,  Will.  E.,  Wakefield,  Mass.  1847 

Eberman,  J.  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3267 

Ebert,  Horace  M.,  Norristown,  Pa.  2552 

Eck,  T.  W.,  New  York  2463 

Eckert,  W.  F.,  Curwinsville.  P^  1898 

Edgar,  E.  A.,  Rutherford,  N.  J.  773 
Edge,  David,  Newark,  N.  J.  (d.  June,  '84)  387 

Edgerton,  C.  W.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1749 

Edman,  G.  A.,  Melbourne,  Vict.  2637 

Edmands,  Wm.  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  3287 

Edmans,  Fred  P.,  Troy,  N.  Y.              *  286 

Edwards,  Edward  T.,  St.  Gallen,  SwiU.  2566 

Edwards,  Thomas  A.,  Melbourne,  Vict.  1354 

Egan,  Frank  A.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  475 

Ehrich,  Louis  R.,  Colorado  Springs,  Col.  3342 

Ehrlich,  Julius  J.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  2803 

Eldred,  Fred  C,  Springfield,  Mass.  1189 

Eldred,  Will.,  Springfield,  Mass.  xi9» 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


EUredgc.  PnBkP.,Cliiuge,  111. 
EllingwDoiI,  Edwird,  Lowell,  Mw. 
EHioI,  H.  R.,  Bnwkl^,  N.  Y. 
EUioll,  W.  G.,  Toledo,  O. 
EllB,  Uiirlee  B.,  IUhhi  Cily,  Mo. 


Elaimicd  ffuM.  Wilenrille.  Me, 
Elwell,  Frank  A.,  PonUnd,  Me. 
Elwell,  Frank  D.,  San  Fmndico,  Cil. 
Etwell,  Ihhc,  Phibtdelphu,  Pl 
EIt.  jr.,  Alfred,  Oerelind,  O.  «]6 

E ,  W.  A.,  Cuenovia,  N.  Y. 

EmenoD,  Charlei  S.,  Milford,  N.  H. 
Enmelt,  H.  J.,  Senna  Falli,  N.  Y. 
Emnwnt,  C.  G.,  Himillon,  Btr. 
Emmoni,  CeniEe  E.,WuhmgloiI,  D.  C 
Empian,  Fitd.  J.,  Melbourne,  Vkl. 
EKflii*,  HMl.  Indianapolii,  Ind. 
Eraif-  Htmi,  Sdllntcr,  N,  V, 
Emley,  O,  P.,  Aubam,  Ind. 
Eulow.  Una  B.,  Richmond,  Vi. 
BmtUr  Haul,  Shepherdnoum,  W.  Vi. 
EKobul,  NeUor.  St.  Ooi^e'i,  Btr. 
Eicolt,  Frank  H.,  Grand  Rapids,  Micf 


1,  Harr 


^,Enf 


EmrtkaHimi 
SoBU,  HoUl,  Aurora.  III. 
Emu,  Oark  W„  Plainfield,  N.  J. 
£nn>.  Dand  J..  Llandynul,  Eng. 
Etui*,  Jsnalhin.  Coiil  Dale,  Pi. 
Evan*,  Lamley  E.,  Newark,  O. 
Enni,  Our  E.,  Now  Caalle,  Ind. 
Evan*,  Walter  H..  Newark,  O. 
Enn«,  W.  Kingaley,  Lohdon,  Ont. 
Emn>,  Wm.  R.Columlua,  Pa. 
Evani,  Allen  W.,  New  York 


,  W.  H.,  Wilden,  N.  Y.  . 

d  L.,  Hopedale.  Mui. 

n,  BloomingtoD,  111. 


N.  H.  . 

Fenneuy,  A.  L.,  Springfield,  Man.  ■□ 
Fenneay,  jr.,  J.  H.,  Springfield,  Miu.  i 
Fenmi,  Herben,  Holyoke,  Mui. 
Fen«ermaVer,  F.  N.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Fetguun,  W.  M„  Jeffenon,  la.  ] 

Fichthom,  W.  R.,  Reading,  Pa. 
Field,  C.  H.,  GreeolieM,  Man.  i 

Field,  F.  F.,  Wen  Philadelphia,  Pa, 
Field,  W.  R.,  Crewiviile,  Pa.  i 

Fielding,  Fred.  A.,  Bonmin,  Mont.        i 
Filbert,  Cbarlei  L.,  ColumUi,  Pa. 
FSlnxn,  Henry  D.,  Benninglan,  Vl.      3 

rben,  New  York 
Finch,  I.  H.,  Adrian,  Mich, 

*i,  Geo.  M.,  WMhingion,  D.  C.     1 
Leon  C.,  Detroit,  Mifb. 
er,  H.  C,  San  Frandsco,  Cal,         1 
r,  Wm.  T.,  Waihington,  D.  C 
er,  John  B.,  New  York  1 

Fiib,  Eben.  Abington,  Mau. 

itham,  N.  Y,  a 

H.,  So.Rdliii(e,MaH.    i 


t,  H.,  Mill< 


I,  Mas 


Fijher,  Ed.  D„  Na^bTtlle,  Tenn. 
Fiiher,  Fred.,   New  Braniwick,  N,  J. 
Fiaher,  Jailsn,  Bailimore,  Md, 
~  gk,  Chaa.  A.,  Brighlwood,  Man. 
Fiak,  Ed,  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

>ke,  C  S.,  Springeeld,  Mau. 

>ke,  George  P.,  Chicago,  III. 

>ke,  Willie  H.,  Holliuon,  Maai. 

non,  J.,  Chriilchorch,  N.  Z. 

tifrald,  Ed.  A.,  Anroia,  III. 
Fiu  Gerald,  J.,  New  York 

tigerl^d,  J,  L.,  London,  Oni. 


744 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Flynn,  ^ohn  C,  Maoon,  Ga.  2599, 2591 

Fogg,  Enoch  S.,  Wondstown,  N.  J.  486 
Folsom,  Joseph  R.,  New  York        1990-1999 

Folsom,  W.  Burt,  Exeter,  N.  H.  3339 

Foote,  A.  J.,  Warmambool,  Vict.  2641 

Foote,  jr.,  W.  T.,  Port  Henry,  N.  Y.  1186 

Forbes,  F.  J.,  Oamaru,  N.  Z.  1706 

I   Ford,  Simeon,  New  York  1606 

'  Forest  and  Stream  Pub.  Co.,  New  York  3329 

Formalt,  Elmer  L.,  Columbia,  Pa.  1646 

Forney,  Edward  B.,  Washington,  D.  C.  19313 

*    Forney,  J.  Wilson,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  2027 

Fifrrest  House^  Scranton,  Pa.  2201 

Forrest,  Andrew,  Greenock,  Scai.  3080 

Forrest,  John,  Greenock,  Scot.  2840 

Forsythe,  Geo.,  London,  Ont.  1x80 

F0S8,  A.  H.  R.,  Springfield,  Mass.  999  < 

Foster,  C.  H.,  Middletown,  N.  Y.  1197 

Foster,  J.  F.,  BufEalo,  N.  Y.  3364 

Foster,  J.  R.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  2557 

Foster,  S.  Conant,  N.  Y.  (d.  Mar.  8,  '85)  1490 

Foulds,  jr.,  J.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1020 
Fowler,  jr.,  Nathaniel  C,  Boston,  Mass.  261 

Fox,  C.  J.,  London,  Eng.  2665 

Fox,  Sidney  Chester,  Enfield,  Eng.  2583 

Francis,  J.  T.,  New  York  1390 

Franklin  If  onset  Columbia,  Pa.  1261 

Franklin,  S.  J.,  Corry,  Pa.  419 

Fraser,  A.  G.,  Toronto,  Ont.  467 

Fraser,  John  F.,  Carmi,  III.  302 

Frasse,  H.  F.,  New  York  2281 

Frazee,  William  C,  New  York  1607 

Frazier,  Chas.  F.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1519 

Frazier,  Edward,  Aurora,  111.  2243 

Freatman,  E.  B.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  649 

Freeborn,  Fred  H.,  Jersey  Shore,  Pa.  445 

Freeman,  C.  W.,  Peoria,  111.  2501 

Freeman,  Henry  V.,  Chicago,  111.  1407 

Freeman,  S.  H.,  Qeveland,  O.  282 

Freeman,  jr.,  W.  C,  Needham,  Mass.  614 

'    Freidgeon,  Geo.,  Columbus,  Ind.  2124 

Frishie,  William  M.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  926 

Frissell,  Glen.  C,  Merrick,  Mass.  1420 

Frost,  R.  T.,  West  Point,  Ga.  933 

Fry,  F.,  Ealing,  Eng.  3037 

Fulford,  H.  B.,  Clearfield,  Pa.  2284 

Fuller,  E.  W.,  McMinnviUe,  Or.  2676 
Fuller,  Frank  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  781, 782 

Fuller,  H.  F.,  Chicago,  III.  1622 

Fuller,  L.  I.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  662 

Fuller,  W.  J.,  Haydenville,  Mass.  705 

Fulton,  J.  M.,  Bloomington,  111.  2482 

Fulton,  Wilbur,  Irwin,  Pa.  2311 


Gabriel,  John,  Liverpool,  Eng.  a68i 

Gage,  Channing  T.,  Detroit,  Midi.  i»3 

Gager,  E.  B.,  Birming^m,  Ct.  9519 

Gale,  F.  £.,  Concord,  N.  H.  3315 

Gale,  Jas.  Alvord,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1687 

Gale,  Wm.  £.,  Millbury,  Mass.  313 

Gallic,  Chas.  R.,  Jamaica,  L.  I.  aSri 

Galway,  Warner  £.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1125 
Gam  well,  Roland  G.,  Providence,  R.  I.  ao4» 

Gaonette,  A.  N.,  RockviUe,  Ct.  332 

Gardner,  B.  W.,  Pawtucket,  R.  I.  335 

Gardner,  D.  M.,  Calais,  Me.  2090 

Gardner,  William,  Casenovia,  N.  Y.  896 

Gardner,  jr.,  W.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  ixio 

Gardner,  Wm.  L.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  laoi 

Garrett,  Robert  D.,  Dulaney,  Ky.  3195 

Garrison,  Charles  764 

Garrison,  G.  F.,  Garrison's,  N.  Y.  2079 

Garrison,  Lloyd  McKim  763 

Garrison,  J.  R.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  1761 

Garvey,  Richard,  New  York  770 

Garvin,  M.  T.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  1490 

Gastrock,  John,  Harrisbuig,  Pa.  205 

Gaterin,  W.  R.,  Belleville,  Ont.  566 

Gates,  Chas.  E.,  Geny,  N.  Y.  1544 

Gay,  T.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  74a 

Gearhart,  Wm.  M.,  Clearfield,  Pa.  as86 

Geddes,  Geo.  S.,  Melbourne,  Viei,  1141 

Geery,  Samuel  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  397 

Geery,  W.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  398 

Geil,  John  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2686 
Geisenheimer,  Ed.  G. ,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y.  1293 

Geisreiter,  S.,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.  2729 
General  IVt^ne  Hotel,  Academy,  Pa.        787 

Genesee  House,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  2264 

Genung,  Arthur  L.,  Newark,  N.  J.  74S 

Genung,  Chas.  H.,  Madison,  N.  J.  509 

George,  Will  A.,  Orange,  Ind.  3347 

George,  W.  R.,  Sydney,  N.  S.  IV.  2500 

Getty  House,  Yonkers,  N.  Y.  2153 

Gibbs,  L.  H.,  Scrantcm,  Pa.  116 

Gibbs,  William,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  1531 

Gibson  &  Hart,  Rockford,  IlL  537 

Gibson,  J.  S.,  Rockford,  111.  $3* 

Giddings,  A.  H.,  Exeter,  N.  H.  3325 

Gideon,  Geo.  D.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1367 

Giffin,  jr.,  J.  H.,  New  Yoric  r6ot 

Gilbert,  H.  Win,  Derby,  Ct.  80s 

Gilbert,  Melvin  E.,  Sandhurst,  Viet,  3049 

Gilbert,  S.  Eldred,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  xjof 

Gilchrist,  Harry,  Bedford,  Pa.  x6i6 
Gill,  James  D.,  Springfield,  Mass.  2848,  2849 

Gill,  James  F.,  Meriden,  Ct.  losS 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


Gillcn,  H.  D.,  S| 
Gi>li(wi,  J.  J-,  BouoD,  Mm. 
GiJiinghani,  Hirolil  E.,  Gennaiiton,  F 
Cilnon,  Wit.  V.,  NuhiU,  N.  H.  jS,  17 
GihiKr,  T.  T. ,  Onrlone,  N.  C 
Gibwnr,  W.  G.,  Melbounie,  iTI^. 
GWin,  C.  H.,  SpringfieM,  Hau. 
Gilchtll,  Joe  H.,  Himillon,  OiU. 


D,  John  1 


d,  O. 


Cabey,  Geo.  W.,  CiienceXer,  f  j^.  i 
Gedel,  p.  LenoDck.  HunillDa,  Brr. 

Goelie,  WiU.  F.,  Lockland,  O.  i 

Oolder,  Slcphen,  Cotcdrt,  Bug.    Soo,  i 

Gonulei,  C.  G.,  WHhinglon,  D.  C  i 

Coodall,  George>  LoDdDn,£i|f.  i 

Goodhue,  F.,  Bntllelnro.  Vt.  1 

Goodridi.  E,  P..  New  Briuin.  Ct  ■ 
Goodiel],  F.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Goodnrin,  Henrr  M.,  Philadelphia,  Pl  1 

Goodwin,  H.  R.,  Manchoier,  Sag.  1 

Gonlwin,  5.  D.  M.,  Albany,  N.  V.  3 

GoidDD,  D.  J.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  j 
Gorgaa,  Geo.  A.,  Hirrieburf,  f\k 

Gonnidly  &  l^Scrj.  Chicago,  III,  114],  i 

GaiTcehl.  W.  Frank,  Lanorier,  Fa.  1 


Goold,  ChaiL  W.,  New  Voric  i6i«,  i 

Gouriey.  N.  R.,  Gleni  Fall*,  N.  Y.       90 
Gnf,  E.  P.,  PuDuutawiie^,  Pa.  1 

Graham,  jr.,  J.  S..  Brooklyn,  N.  V.         i 
Graham,  W.  E.,  St.  John,  N.  B,  j 

Giaif,  Philip,  Athem,  N.  V.  i 

Gramd  Cndral  HtUt,  SI.  Clond,  Minn.  1 
Grand  Umin  Hitil,  New  Voifc  1 

Grant,  Jii,  E.,  Liverpool,  Bng.  1 

Gnni,  John  C,  Chicago,  III.  j 

Gravel,  B.  F.,  ShepherfMnwn.  W,  Va.  1 


Craie 


0,  N.  Y. 


Gf>T»,  F.  B.,  Rocheilor,  N.  Y. 
Gravel,  Louii  B.,  Minneapolii,  Mi 
Gravo,  M.  E.,  New  York 
Gray,  H,  P.,  Cortland,  N.  V. 
Gray,  John  W.,  Hanford,  Cl. 
Green,  B.  Okst,  Weit  Cheuei 
Green,  Charlei,  Columbua,  Ind. 
Green.  H.  Martin,  Hinnl,  Enf. 
Grven,  Wtn.  O.,  Holyoke,  Mai>. 
Gnme,  S.  T.,  BiUenllg,  Ont. 


r.  Pa. 


y,  W.  T.  I 

GreenBeld,  J.  H.,  Piinfeld,  Man.  3c 

Greenleal,  A.  F.,  Ameibury,  MaM.  i 

Greer,  Robson  C,  Covingtoa,  Ky.  11 

Gregg,  F.  W..  TuBon,  Ari«ma  13 

Gregg,  Geo.  M.,  Kennelt  Square,  Pa.  ■  j 
Gridley,  Edward  L.,  New  York 

GrreflingcT,  C.  I«,  Medina,  O-  a4 

Ctigm,  John  B.,  Hantcnd,  Ct  jj 

Griffin,  Char,  Greenwich,  N.  Y.  i 

Griffin,  C  H.,  Ravenna,  O.  14 

Griffin.  Selh  J.,  Ogden,  Utah  11 

Griffith,  M.,  Benyrille,  Va.  ii 
Griffilh>a  Co.,  Cnvenlry,  Eng.      jii7,]i 

Griffiih>,  H..  Much  Wcnlock,  Eng.  ji 

Griffiths,  J.  B.,  Utica,  N.  Y.  f 
GriKom,  Jo«ph  W,,  Jenkintown,  Pa. 

GrOflCfa,  Auguit,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y-  10 

Grover,  T.  L.,  Galmlon.  Tex.  17 

Grow,  Anhnr  R.,  Sommit,  N.  J.  as 

GruK,  A.,  Chicago,  la  ji 

Cue,  Joe,  Montgoniery,  Ala.  ft 

Guerin,  B.  C,  Morrinawn,  N.  J.  17 

Gulick,  John  C,  New  Yorii  3 

Golleo,  W.  F.,  Bionklyn,  N.  Y.  i; 

Gulliver.  Wm.  C,  New  York  19 

Gump.  A.  W..  Daylon,  O.  f 

Gtnckel,  E.  W.,  Middletown.  O.  11 

Guanie,  Rimll  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  V 

Cunlher,  H.  P.,  Lounville,  Ky.  ji; 

Guy,  Arthur  W.,  New  York  ift 

Gwen,  Robert,  Carnarvon,  f  >v.  19 

Haai,  J.  Franklin,  Summit,  N.  J.  11. 

Kaberbiah,  Chai.  E.,  Lancaner,  Pa.  14: 

Hafer,  John,  Bedford,  Pa.  ifi 

Hager,  Stanibuiy,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  iSl 

Hahne.  AugDii,  Newark,  N.  J.  » 

Halifax  MiM.  Halifu,  N.  S.  151 


Hall,  J 


M..  Smilhvill 


,N.J. 


746 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Halstead,  C.  T.,  Mormtown,  N.  J.  375 

Haman,  Geofge  £.,  Ellington,  N.  Y.  3069 
Hamill,  S.  B.,  Springfield,  MaiL  jjos 

HamiUcn  HoUl,  Hamilton,  Ber.  3455 

Hamilton,  Jay  Benton,  Providence,  R.  1. 2966 
Hamilton,  Robert  A.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  1863 
Hamlin,  Arthur  S.,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.  489 
Hamlin,  Geoige  W.,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.  488 
Hamlin,  H.  B.,  Wadena,  Minn.  aoiS 

Hamm,  J.  J.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  664 

Hammar,  A.  H.,  Wofpester,  Mass.  714 

Hampton,  jr.,  S.  Wade,  Memphis,  Tenn.  2237 
l^ananer,  Chas.  W.,  Covington,  Ky.  a  118 
Hananer  &  Myers,  Covington,  Ky.  3984-86 
Hancock,  B.  P.,  Corpus  Christi,  Tex.  1954 
Hand,  Fred  C,  Scranton,  Pa.  336 

Hannon,  G.  E.,  Denver,  Col.  11 11 

Hanson,  Conrad  R.,  Gloucester,  Mass.  1976 
Hanson,  Linwood  E.,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  3688 
Hapgood,  O.  D.,  Orange,  Mass.  3771 

Haradon,  C.  R.,  Springfield,  Mass.  996 

Harberson,  Ben,  Augusta,  Ky.  1160 

Harder,  J.  E.,  Clearfield,  Pa.  3347 

Harding,  Edward  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  339 
Harding,  M.  A.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  3634 

Hardy,  T.  S.,  Oakland,  Cal.  3710 

Hare,  Thomas,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3373 

Harley,  jr.,  Chas.  R.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1365 
Harlow,  Fred.  M.,  Springfield,  Vt.  3053 
Harmon,  John  M.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1053 

Harmony,  W.  P.,  Sidney,  O.  303 

Harper,  Wm.  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  343 

Harpeter,  J.  W.,  Canton,  O.  3959 

Harriman,  Smith  A.,  New  York  3401 

Harriman,  S.  F., Vineyard  Haven,  Masa.3981 
Harrington,  Chas.  R.,  Lyons,  N.  Y.  891, 1149 
Harrington,  E.  D.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1599 

,  Harrington,  George  S.,  Maiden,  Mass.  1390 
Harris,  Frank  L.,  Harrisonburg,  Va.  3065 
Harris,  Frank  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1363 
Harris,  Hoivard  P.,  Buffalo.  N.  Y.  3364 
Harris,  J.  M.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1391 

Harris,  P.  M.,  New  York  3394 

Harris,  Will.  I.,  Boston,  Mass.  53 

Harris,  W.  M.,  Calumet,  Mich.  3993 

Harrison,  F.  H.,  Fredonia,  N.  Y.  3033 

Harrison,  Reginald  Fairfax,  New  Yoric  3174 
Harrison,  W.  H.,  Mercer,  Pa.  776 

Hart,  A.  A.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  3343 

Hart,  Amos  W.,  Washington,  D.  C.  1117 
Hart,  E.  Stanley  &  Co.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

[3>Mi  3<55 
Hart,  G.  E.,  Pipestone  City,  Minn.         3393 


Hart,  Geofge  S.,  Rockfoid,  IlL  331 
Hart,  H.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.        33494254 

Hart,  H.  R.,  Croydon,  £fi£.  3896 
Hartford,  Willie  M.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  3317 

Hartshorn,  A.  £.,  Worcester,  Mass.  aSao 

Haruhom,  E.  £.,  Perth  Amboy,  N.  J.  aSaS 

Hartung,  Henry,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2435 

Hartwell,  Edward  M.,  Baltimore,  Md.  2034 

Harvard  CMegt  Library^  Mass.  1319 

Harvey,  E.  W.,  Sparta,  Wis.  315 

Harwood,  Henry,  Ishpeming,  Mich.  2951 

Harwood,  John,  Patenon,  N.  J.  363 

Hasbrouck,  D.  C,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  543 

Hasbrouck,  jr.,  R.  S.,  New  York  548 

Hasking,  C,  Sandhurst,  Vict,  3254 

Hastings,  W.  H.,  EUiabeth,  N.  J.  1528 

Hatch,  H.  L.,  Portland,  Or.  1663 

Hatch,  H.  L.,  Salem,  Or.  3743 

Hathaway,  A.  A.,  Milwaukee,  Wis.  715 

Hathaway,  A.  S.,  Cleveland,  O.  2778 

Hathaway,  D.  J.,  Topeka,  Kan.  231 

Hathaway,  S.  T.,  St.  Mary's,  Kan.  2363 

Haven,  Harry  B.,  Florence,  Mass.  3367 
Haviland,  Thomas  T.,  Newburgh,  N.  Y.  967 

Hawkes,  F.  E.,  (keenfield,  Mass.  3181 

Hawley,  C..E.,  Washington,  D.  C.  1425 

Hawley,  Harry  W.,  Ann  Aibor,  Midi.  678 

Hawley,  John  H.,  Washington,  D.  C  1638 

Hay,  J.  G.,  Woodstock,  Otd.  122a 

Hayden,  H.  A.,  AUentown,  Pa.  1265 

Haydock,  R.  R.,  New  York  1325 

Hayes,  Alfred,  London,  Bnf,  1590 
Hayes,  Chester  C,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.    s^ 

Hayes,  Harry,  London,  Eng.  1943 

Hayes,  Herbert,  London,  Eng.  1944 

Hayes,  John  Joseph,  Hatfield,  Eng.  1942 

Hayes,  William,  London,  Eng.  2793 

Hayford,  H.  Hartley.  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  708 

Haynes,  Fred.  W.,  London,  Eng.  2714 

Haynes,  Gideon,  Boston,  Mass.  2261 

Haynes,  Nelson  T.,  Kansas  City,  Mo.  3263 

Hays,  A.  A.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1799 

Hayward,  A.  H.,  Greenville,  N.  J.  1107 

Hayward,  A.  H.,  New  York  2737 

Hayward,  F.  H.,  Providence,  R.  L  379 

Hayward,  J.  E.,  St.  Cloud,  Minn.  2461 

Hayward,  T.  A.,  Susquehanna,  Pa.  2835 

Hazelton,  W.  S.,  Melbourne,  Viet.  2919 
Hazlett,  Charies  A..  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  t 
Ha3lett,(Mr8.)C.  A.,  Portsmonth.N.  H.  3000 

Heales,  H.  C,  Hamilton,  Vict.  2036 

Healy,  Wm.  F.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  MS* 

Heath,  S.  F.,  Mhineapotis,  Minn.  9>< 


^^'j  r':rr:Lt  r^-t/     x  *fy    '//  ^/'///z 


/ 


748 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Howard,  Chas.  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  1835 

Howard,  H.  T.,  New  York  1424 

Howard,  Leland,  Washington,  D.  C.  1522 

Howard,  T.,  Salem,  Or.  3746 

Howe,  A.  A.,  Denver,  Col.  X113 

Howe,  O.  R.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  156a 

Howe,  H.  E.,  Cheshire,  Ct.  2075 

Howe,  W.  L.,  Oskaloosa,  la.  506 

Howell,  Alfred  E.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2434 

Howell,  Charles  D.,  Winterset,  la.  2238 

Howell,  Edgar,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  341 

Howell,  Fred  L.,  St.  Thomas,  Ont.  1332 

Howell,  H.  v.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3047 

Howell,  Lewis,  Millville,  N.  J.  1103 

Howell,  L.  A.,  Millville,  N.  J.  2474 

Howland,  Wm.  B.,  Cambridge,  Mass.  3x2 

Hoyt,  Charles  L.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1739 

Hubbard,  Chas.  P.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  985 

Hubbard,  Lyle,  Toledo,  O.  1458 

Hubbell,  H.,  Norwich,  Ct.  103 

Hubbell,  L.  L.,  Danbury,  Ct.  980 

Huber,  J.  W.,  Ashland,  Pa.  3270 

Huber,  Stanley  B.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1396 

Huggins,  James,  New  York  123 1 

Hughes,  C.  W.,  Shreve,  O.  2052 

Hughes,  Isaac,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1792 

Hughes,  J.  £.,  Newmarket,  Ont,  235 

Hughes,  T.  J.,  Liverpool,  Ettg,  ^\M 

Hughs,  \.  M.,  Bardstown,  Ky.  1930 

Hull,  George  S.,  Chambersburg,  Pa.  96 

Hull,  H.  H.,  Waynesburg,  Pa.  1803 

Hull,  O.  £.,  Chariton,  la.  2272 

Humber& Co.,  London,  i^x/*.        3126,3137 

Humphrey,  Eugene,  Yarmouth,  Me.  3694 

Humphrey,  Osman  B.,  Bangor,  Me.  3002 

Humphreys,  Henry,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1447 

Humphreys,  R.  E.,  Irwin,  Pa.  2177 

Hunt,  E.  P.,  Qeveland,  O.  2832 

Hunt,  Riley,  Orange,  Ind.  3348 

Huntington,  C.  G.,  Hartford,  Ct.  2954 

Huntington,  J.  T.,  Geveland,  O.  1593 

Huributt,  Harry  W.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1731 

Hurlbun,  Wm.  A.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1734 

Hurxthal,  jr.,  Benj.,  Mansfield,  O.  152 

Huss,  George  Martin,  New  York  1609 

Huss,  Theodore,  East  Saginaw,  Mich.  3007 

Husted,  George  W.,  Camden,  N.  J.  3389 

Husted,  Samuel  G.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  930 

Hutching,  C.  W.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1035 

Hutchins,  Lovell,  Baltimore,  Md.  563 

Hutchinson,  Chas.  A.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  537 

Hutchinson,  F.,  Framingham,  Mass.  3114 

Hutdtinson,  )r.,  R.  G.,  Montclair,  N.  J.  3355 


Hutchinson  &  Myers,  Sandhurst,  Vki,  32$] 

Iddlngs,  Frank  A.,  Warren,  O.  1913 
Ideal  Pen  Co.,  The,  New  York       1758, 1759 

Ingalls,  D.  W.,  Little  Falls,  N.  Y.  2809 

Ingham,  Alfred  M.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  156! 

Ingram,  T.  L.,  Columbus,  Ga.  1956 

IntematioMol  Hctelf  Boston,  Mass.  59$ 

InttT'OceoH  HoUlf  Cheyenne,  Wy.  1450 

Iredell,  George  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1366 

Ireland,  J.  E.,  La  Chute  Mills,  Omt,  2967 

Irving,  Arthur  B.,  Westfield,  N.  J.  t»3{ 

Irving,  J.  G.,  Danbury,  Ct.  979 

Irwin,  A.  B.,  Rushville,  Ind.  373 

Irwin,  Wm.  G.,  Columbus,  Ind.  am 

Irwin,  W.  R.,  Emporia,  Kan.  333 

Irwin,  W.  T.,  Peoria,  111.  3493 

Isaacs,  Chas.  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  559 

IsbelJ,  W.  H.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  2173 

Isham,  James  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  679 

Ixum  Bicycle  CM^  New  Yoric  115s 

Jackson,  B.  F.,  Lockport,  N.  Y.  i8ie 

Jackson,  C.  L., -Rutherford,  N.  J.  771 

Jackson,  Fred  A.,  New  Haven,  Ct  416 

Jackson,  H.  H.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  230$ 

Jackson,  jr.,  H.  R.,  Rutherford,  N.  J.  338 

Jackson,  Schuyler  B.,  Newark,  N.  J.  3303 

Jackson,  Thomas  W.,  Newaric,  N.  J.  386 

Jacob!,  G.  N.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3076 

Jacobs,  Albert  P.,  Detroit,  Mich.  1079 

Jacobs,  Chas.  H.,  Detroit,  Mich.  1344 

Jacobsen,  Peter  N.,  Detroit,  Mich.  2408 

Jaffray,  H.  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  217$ 
Jagger,  L.  Courtlandt,  Newbnigh,  N.  Y.  968 

James,  Frank  B.,  New  York  2396 

James,  Mortimer  E.  O.,  London,  Enj^.  1745 

Jaines,  Saml  R.,  Schenectady,  N.  Y.  122$ 

Janes,  Henry  E.,  New  York  3488 

Jansen,  L.  W.,  Walden,  N.  Y.  2541 

Jaques,  J.,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  150$ 

Jarvis,  C.  W.,  Port  Arthur,  Ont,  733 
Jarvis,  H.,  Oxford,  Md.                  aaxo,  3273 

Jarvis,  H.  E.,  Burlington,  la.  606 

Jeffords,  H.  R.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  993 

Jenidon,  W.,  Columbia,  S.  C.  129$ 

Jenkins,  Chas.  H.,  Louisville,  Ky.  123 

Jenkins,  Fred,  New  York  119 

Jenkins,  F.  M.  S.,  Ottawa,  Ont,  3854 

Jenkins,  H.  J.,  Christchurch,  N,  Z.  t88s 
Jennings,  A.  F.,  Springfield,  Mass.  2900, 2901 

Jennings,  George  H.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  923 

Jennings,  Walter,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  1333 

Jeralds,  £.  O.,  New  Haven,  Ct  3497 

Jessup,  Nelson,  Stamford,  Ct.  173a 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


Kidffmu,  BranET,  ColwibU.  Fl 
KuifmiD,  Abe,  Ciriod,  Pi. 
Kiulbich,  G.  H.,  CtHDncId,  Mau. 
Kavaniugh,  H.  S.,  Cohou,  N.  V. 
Kfui  &  Co.,  S.,  SiDdhunt,  Vitl. 
Kganargt  Haust,  PoTUmoulh,  N,  H. 
Keck,  Gtettt,  Ann  Arbw,  Micb. 
K«iie,  Cbu.  J.,  Eu.haniptoii,  Mu». 
Kcer,  Fnnk,  Ncwatk,  N.  J. 
Keller,  A.  L.,  EtfiD,  111. 
Keller,  Wm.  5.,  Snithville,  N.  J. 
Kellogg,  Chu.  A.,  Hulfonl,  Q. 


on.  C.  E.,  Silt  Lake  Cily,  Uul 
on,  Elliott,  New  Yoik 
on,  Eph.,  Brooklyn,  N,  V, 
OD,  E,  P.,  Manhall,  Mich. 
Johiuoo,  frrA  M.,  Syruuie,  N.  Y. 
n,  Fnnk  M.,  Philidelpllil,  Pa 
n,  Geo.  K.,  Bridgeport,  Ct. 


1,  Han 


>,  Eng. 


hiuoo,  H.G,,  North  Andovr 

hn»D,  Henry  J.,  A.hford,  Eur.  15 

hoKio,  Joieph  L.,  IndianipoUs,  Ind.  1} 

hiaon,;.  Q.  A.,NewYork  5 

hnion,  L.  H..  Onnge,  N.  J.  n 

hDwn,  William,  Brisbane, ^MreioAtW  >fl 

hnun,  Will  S.,  Newark,  N.  J.  i 

hnaloB,  C.  K.,  Louisville,  Ky.  it 

haatoo,  Paul  S.,  Piltibuig,  Pi.  it 

JidiBRoo,  Sam.  B.,  Colinnbiu,  Hui.  i; 

Johnston.  W.  H.,  Irwin,  Pa.  11 

I,  A.  A.,  Williamilowii,  Mau.  if 

t,  CSft  W.,  Ntwlrk,  N.  J.  j 

a,  Edward  Ju.,  London,  Emf.  if 

/•ma  HeUI,  Fsri€i,  Weymouth,  N.  S.  e 

1.  Gerry,  Binghamlon,  N,  Y.  ji 

..  H.  C.  Brooklyn,  N,  Y.  il 

onei,  Han 


.,  Job 


n,  O. 


>,  O.  M..  Simcoe,  Qmt. 

(,  P.  W.,  PilUfield,  Max. 

I,  R.L.,  Charlotte,  N.C 


a.  T.  D.,  Henden 


,,Ky. 


tichmond  Hill,  L.  [. 
a,  Walker  J.,  Hlrrishirg.  Pi. 
I,  Wm.  T.,Caa1Dale,  Pa. 
in,  W.  H.,  Springfield,  Maia. 
n,  Jimei  T.,  Newhnrgh,  N.  Y. 

0,  Joel  A.,  Newbuigh,  N.  Y. 

1,  C.  H.,  RoBclle,  N.  J. 
Joy,  Charlei  F.,  B«ton,  MaH. 
JiMld,  H.  A.,  London,  EHg. 

^,  Herbert  E.,  Helena,  Mobl 

^,  Henry  M.,  Adrian,  Hkh. 

iw>,  A.  L..  Albinr,  N.  Y. 

m,  H.,  Sandhurat,  Vict. 
Kahler,  Wn.  S..  Ballimore,  Ml 
Km,  W.  A.,  WoodUock,  Ont. 
KittniBck,  P.,  Trtoioa,  N.  J. 


Kelly,  H.  P.,  I^Uidelphii,  Pa. 
Kellf,  W.  S.,  Lowell,  Miu. 
Kelly  6  Ballard,  Lebanon,  Ky. 
Kemper,  A.  P.,  Haniionburg,  Vi. 
KendaU,  F.  P.,  Woraattr,  Max. 
Kendlll.  Hugh  H.,  Coming,  N.  Y. 
Kendall,  W.  C.,  Boilon,  Mau. 
Kenly,  A.  C,  Bahimotc,  Md. 
Kennard,  J.  B.,  Ocarfield,  Pa. 
Kennedy,  C  C,  PilUfield,  Mau. 
Kennedy,  Erwin  K.,  PiitiBeld,  Mua.     : 
Keni,  G.  W.,  Halilai,  N.  S. 
Kent,  Wm.  Geo.,  Waihington,  D.  C 
Kttifmt  Ctlltft  Liiraty,  Gambicr,  O. 
Kern,  L.  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Kerr.  D.  W.,  New  Caslle,  Ind. 
Kerr,  Henry  H.,  Fort  Wonh,  Tex. 
Ketcham,  Reen,  Cornwall,  N.  Y. 
Keycr,  C,  E.,  Elyiil,  O. 
Kiyitetu  Hnut,  Hawley,  Pa. 
Kidder,  H.  S.,  Elmira,  N.  Y. 
Kimball.  Edward  J. ,  Minneapolii,  Minn. : 
Kimball,  Fred.  H.,  BeHowi  Filli.  VL     : 
ICirndtrluiJi  ami,  Kinderhook.  N.  V.    1 
King.  A.  B..  SmilbviHe,  N.  J. 
King,  A.  Foiter.  Flushing.  L.  I. 
King,  A.  J.,  Halifai,  /f.  S. 
Kmgi  CimHy  WkKliKtn.  Brooklyii,  N.Y 
Kbg,  Fred  G..  Coiry,  Pa. 


750 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Kirkpatrick,  Sam.  H.,  Middletown,  Ct.  1098 

Kirkpotrick,  T.  J.,  Springfield,  O.  1910 

Kirkwood,  F.  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  1658 

Kirtley,  jr.,  Wm.,  Defiance,  O.  a343 

Kitchell,  H.  N.,  Cincinnati,  O.  iiaa 

Kitchell,  J.  G.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1935 

Kitching,  F.  W.,  New  York             127,  2382 

Kittinger,  Chas.  H.,  Seattle, Wash.  Ter.  1166 

Klots,  Walter,  New  York  12 19 

Kluge,  Chas.  E.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  2100 

Knapp,  B.  L.,  Boston,  Mass.  1661 

Knapp,  C.  P.,  Wyoming,  Pa.  2903 

Knapp,  F.  W.,  Rutland,  Vt  2164 

Knapp,  Lawrence,  Portland,  Or.  2671 

Knapp,  S.  Norria,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  546 

Knapp,  W.  F.,  Cleveland,  O.  3021 

Knauss,  Chas.  C,  Bethlehem,  Pau  1439 

Knight,  Henry  C,  Silver  Creek,  N,  Y.  1926 

Knight,  J.  H.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3255 

Knight,  T.,  Eastbourne,  Eng,  2585 

Knowles,  R.,  Gan  (pr^  Pau),  Franct  2668 

Knowlton,  Chas.  M.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  845 

Knox,  C.  D.,  Lime  Rock,  Ct.  2751 

Knox,  J.  H.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  3244 

Knox,  Thos.  W.,  New  York  20 

Koch  Brothers,  Peoria,  III.             3349f  2350 

Koch,  John  H.,  Peoria,  111.  1045 
Kohler,  G.  A.  Edward,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  346 

Kolp,  A.  J.,  Scranton,  Pa.  34 

Kostovitz,  L.  D.,  Budapest,  Austria  3307 

Krag,  C.  J.,  Columbus,  O.  1907 

Krank,  J.  W.,  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.  2205 

Kreu,  Harry  P.,  Baltimore,  Md.  374 

Kroh,  C.  £.,  Hoboken,  N.  J.  2293 

Kroppack,  Otto,  Burlington,  la.  1959 

Krug,  Wm.  B.,  Fordham,  N.  Y.  214 

Kudner,  Chas.,  Detroit,  Mich.  671 

Kiigenunn,  E,  E.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1086 

Kugler,  John  G.,  Pottstown,  Pa.  2910 

Kuhns,  John  M.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1752 

Kumler,  L.  M.,  Berwick,  Pa.  1259 

Kusel,  I.  J.,  Springfield,  111.  3328 

La/ayetttt  Hottlf  Philadelphia,  Pa.  909 

Lailey,  C.  E.,  Toronto,  Out.  1271 

Lakt  H»uu,  Caldwell,  N.  Y.  1877 

Lake,  Edwin  T^,  New  York  2660 

Lake,  Frank  L.,  Rockford,  111.  684 
Lakin,  J.  A.  &  Co.,  Westfield,  Mass.  3331-2 

Lamb,  James,  London,  Out.  1177 

Lambert,  F.  P.,  York,  Eng.  2897 

Lamoreaux,  D.  A.,  High'd  Ms.,  N.  Y.  1866 
LamsoD,  Chas.  H.,  Portland,  Me.     180,447 

LamsoD,  J.  H.,  Portland,  Me.  587 


Landes,  W.  G.,  Springfield,  Maaa^  64^ 

Landis,  D.  B.,  Landisville,  Pa.  459 

Landy,  E.  F.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1934 

Lane,  A.  T.,  Montreal,  Que.  591 

Lane,  Chas.  H.,  Templeton,  Mass.  2411 
Langdown,  W.  H.,  Christchurch,  N.  Z.  1883 

Langley,  Charles,  Toronto,  Out.  t86o 

Langley,  H.  W.,  Dayton,  Ky.  2019 
Lanier,  Henry  &  Frank,  West  Point,  Ga.  931 

Lansford,  Thos.  Coll,  Coal  Dale,  Pa.  3340 

Lansing,  R.  R.,  Detroit,  Mich.  113 

Larkin,  W.  L.,  Haydenville,  Mass.  704 

Lathrop,  C.  £.,  Armada,  Mich.  20a 

La  Touche,  R.  M.,  Scranton,  Pa.  2200 

Latta,  A.  G.,  Friendship,  N.  Y.  3027 

Latta,  E.  G.,  Friendship,  N.  Y.  3026 

Lauterbach,  John,  Birmingham,  Eng.  2663 

Lautz,  Howard  O.,  York,  Pa.  1096 

Lawrence,  G.  I^.,  Milwaukee,  Wis.  3321 

Lawson,  Orville  W.,  Louisville,  Ky.  645 

Lawton,  Sanford,  Springfield,  Mass.  222 

Lazarus,  S.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  304s 

Lear,  Henry,  Doylestown*  Pa.  3301 

Learned,  D.  W.,  Kioto, /o^tm  2627 

Learned,  W.  H.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  647 

Leddell,  C.  S.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  750 

Ledry,  W.  G.,  Fostoria,  O.  503 

Lee,  N.  DeRoy,  Westmoreland,  N.  Y.  2510 

Lee,  R.  E.,  St.  Louis,  Ma  367 

Lee,  W.  H.  L.,  New  Yoric  2022 

Leeson,  Arthur  J.,  Birmingham,  Eng.  2930 

Le  Fevre,  Lynn  A.,  Belleville,  O.  2278 

Lefferts,  L.  E. ,  New  York  1940 

Leffingwell,  Geo.  E.,  Hartford,  Ct.  795 

Leibert,  Frank  J.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  3146 

Leisen,  C.  L.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2912 

Leroeris,  A.  O.,  Newaurk,  N.  J.  389 

Lenox  House ^  Greenwich,  Ct  1723 

Lenox,  J.  G.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  650 

Leonard  House,  Qearfield,  Pa.  1896 

Leonard,  £.  F.,  Springfield,  Mass.  looi 

Leonard,  O.  R.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1569 

Leonard,  Wm.  D.,  New  York  1326 

Lesh,  H.  A.,  Auburn,  Ind.  2427 
Leslie-Lickley,  Alex.  Wm.,  Wandsworth- 

[Common,  London,  Eng.  3240 

Lester,  C.  E.,  Miller's  Falls,  Mass.  3069 

Letcher,  jr.,  J.  H.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2323 

LeTouman,  J.  K.,  Baltimore,  Md.  209 
Letts,  Son  &  Co^i  London,  Eng.     3093-3101 

Leye  &  Alden,  New  York  80 

Levering,  F.  D.,  Champaign,  I]].  3033 

Lewis,  Arthur  P.,  Philadelphia,  Psi.  138 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


75  » 


Lewis,  Brandon,  La  Fayette,  Ind.  3870 

Lewis,  D.  B.,  Yonken,  N.  Y.  3776 

Lewis,  E.  G.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  994 

Lewis,  Eugene  H.,  New  York  1657 

Lewis,  Henry  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  139 

Lewis,  Harold  R.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  410 

Lewis,  S.  R.,  Otego,  N.  Y.  3329 

Lewis,  Wilbur  E.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1733 

Lewis,  W.  H.,  Melbourne,  Viet.  3037 

Leypoldt,  Rudolph  G.,  New  York  13 

Libenow,  F.  E.,  Walden,  N.  Y.  3356 

Lightfoot,  F.  S.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1753 

Lighthouse,  Benj.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  1817 

Lilley,  George  P.,  London,  Ont.  11 76 

Lillibridge  Brothers,  Rockford,  III.  540 

Lincoln,  L.  J.,  Lubec,  Me.  3096 

Lindemuth,  E.  E.,  Wichita,  Kan.  381 

Lindenberg,  Henry,  Columbus,  O.  868 

Lindner,  jr.,  John,  Newark,  N.  J.  390 

Lindquist,  N.  E.,  Menekanne,  Wis.  3996 

Lindsay,  John  S.,  Chattanooga,  Tenn.  1195 

Lindsey,  Frank  A.,  Lynn,  Mass.  1638 

Lindsley,  jr.,  A.  V.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  1410 

Link6eld,  R.  £.,  Elgin,  111.  1481 

Lmonian  Library ^  New  Haven,  Ct.  456 

Lintz,  W.  D.,  New  York  318s 

Lippincott,  Benj.,  Cinnaminson,  N.  J.  683 

Lippincott,  G.  A.,  Mt.  Holly,  N.  J.  15 13 

Littell,  Hiram  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  393 

Little,  Arthur  M.,  Roxbury,  Mass.       ^  615 

Littlejohn,  Edward,  Chatham,  N.  J.  50S 

Lrnngstoo,  H.  S.,  Cincinnati,  O.  135 
LUtoeUyn  Park  Hotel,  W.  Orange,  N.  J.  900 

Llewelyn,  F.,  South  Yarrfi,  Vict.  3155 

Lloyd,  S.  M.,  Goderich,  Ont,  3691 

Locke,  Herbert  E.,  Broeklyn,  N.  Y.  3044 

Locke,  W.  S.,  Otyof  Mexico, '.Mirjr.  1925 

Lockwood,  S.  A.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  85 

Lcgan  Hcuse,  Altoona,  Pa.  3336 

Logan,  John  L.,  Harrisonbui^,  Va.  3175 

Logan ,  John  W. ,  Merrimac,  Mass.  338a 

Logan,  W.  T.,  Glasgow,  Scot.  3679 
London  Cycle  Supply  AsVn,  Eng.it2%,  3139 

Long,  John,  Irwin,  Pa.  3180 

Long,  J.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  948 

Loogenedcer,  C.  B.,  Newark,  N.  J.  3061 

Loogood,  S.  S.,  MeadviHe,  Pa.  1688 

Lorber,  L.  J.  E.  J.,  Ithaca,  N.  Y.  113 

Lord,  Frank  N.,  New  York  3635 

Lorenz,  Wm.  A.,  Hartford,  Ct.  a8o 

Loucks,  A.  C.  D.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  943 

Lovell,  George  M.,  Southbridge,  Mass.  439 

Lowey,  William,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  961 


Lowry,  A.,  Christchurch,  N.  Z.  1353 

Lucas,  Burt  G.,  Monmouth,  Or.  740 

Lucas,  G.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1005 

Lucas,  G.  Loutrel,  Baltimore,  Md.  56 

Lucas,  Philip  H.,  Mt.  Yemon,  N.  Y.  839 

Ludwig,  Charles  B.,  Baltimore,  Md.  558 

Lufkin,  E.  C,  Titusville,  Pa.  1537 

Luke,  J.  H.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3053 

Lunger,  John  B.,  Newark,  N.  J.  3923 

Luse,  Stephen  W.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  x8oi 

Lyman,  Charles,  Montreal,  Que.  3320 

Lyman,  W.  I.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1013 

Lyne,  Lewis  F.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  3  x0a 

Lyon,  Charles  A.,  Bangor,  Me.  775 

Lyon,  C.  L.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1053 

Lyon,  George  A.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  3877 

Mabbett,  Edwin  J.,  Baltimore,  Md.  143 

Mabie,  Geo.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1678 
McAusIan,  John  W.,  Providence,  R.  I.    242 

McBride,  R.  H.,  Toronto,  OtU.  6x8 

McCarthy,  John,  London,  Ont.  1x81 
M'Qintock,  W.  C,  W.  Philadelphia,  Pa.  347 

McGure,  S.  S.,  New  York  497 
McComas,  W.  E.,  Hagerstown,  Md.  861, 863 

McCormack,  W.  H.,  New  York  41 

McCoy,  Wm.  D.,  Wheeling,  W.  Va.  1850 

McCreary,  W.  J.,  NewYork  1339 
McCroskery,  L.  W.  Y.,  Newburgh,  N.  Y.  966 

McCuUoch,  Arch.,  Truro,  N.  S.  104 1 

McCullouch,  W.  G.,  Trenton,  N.  J,  3907 

McCune,  Jos.,  Columbus,  O.  1913 

Macdonald,  Samuel  J.,  Newark,  N.  J.  394 

McDougall,  Chas.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3045 

MacdufiF,  R.  E.,  Qeveland,  O.  3 113 

McElwain,  J.  S.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  3030 

McEwen,  D.  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  576 

McFadden,  Walter  C,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1791 

McFadden,  Will.  C,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1839 

McFarland,  A.,  Corry,  Pa.  3030 

McGarrett,  A.  O.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1007 

MacGowan,  G.  P.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1548 

McGowin,  J.  W.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  2033 

McGuire,  Philip,  Halifax,  N.  S.  1501 

Mclntire,  John  W.,  Salmon  Falls,  N.  H.  3578 

Mclntire,  W.  W.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  439 

Mcintosh,  H.  A.,  Kincardine,  Ont.  1743 

Mclnturff,  A.  P.,  Strasbun;,  Va.  1247 

Mack,  F.  0.,Wahpeton,  Dak.  3390 

Mack,  J.  S.,  Warmambool,  Vict.  3643 

McKay,  G.  W.,  Auburn,  Ind.  3431 

McKay,  S.  L.,  Woodstock,  Ont.  1333 

McKee,  Chas.  W.,  St.  John,  N.  B.  3055 

Mackee,  H.  E.,  Sumford,  Ct.  1736 


752  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


McKenna,  Louis  A.,  Anuapolis,  N.  S.  1462 

McKenney,  C.  F.,  Lake  City,  Col.  3376 

McKenxie,  Alf.  £.,  Tniro,  N,  S.  104a 

Macklin,  W.  C,  Frankfort,  Ky.  767 
McKnigbt,  Chas.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  536 

Macknight,  J.,  Newry,  Eng,  z<^yj 

McKnight,  J.  B.,  RrookviUe,  Pa.  2786 

McKnight,  W.  M.,  Qearfield,  Pa.  3287 

McLain,  Chaa.  J.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1750 

McLaren,  James,  Ft.  William,  Omt,  505 

McLaughlin,  J.  R.,  Hagerstown,  Md.  1251 

McLindon,  Wm.,  Schuylerville,  N.  Y.  1878 

McN ,  New  Orleans,  La.  2503 

McNeil,  G.  C,  Akron,  O.  2608 
MacOwen,  Arthur  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  530 

MacOwen,  Frederick,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1345 
McQueston,  E.  A.,  Manchester,  N.  H.   432 

McRae,  E.  H.,  Sydney,  N.  S.  H^.  2212 

McWorkroan,  Wm.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2 131 

Maddux,  J.  H.,  Warrenton,  Va.  1246 

Magill,  Frank,  Irwin,  Pa.  2179 

Mahaffey,  James,  Clearfield,  Pa.  2283 

Maier,  Geo.  E.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  322 

JUain  Si.  H&iut,  Silver  Creek,  N.  Y.  1926 

Mains,  Isaac  N.,  Pleasant  Gap,  Mo.  2957 

Mallalieu,  S.  M.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  2086 

Maltby,  L.  U.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  909 
Malvern,  Frank,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y.  .1198,  3199 

Mammoth  Cape  HoUl^  Cave  City,  Ky.  2093 

Manaway,  John,  Uniontown,  Pa.  1807 

Mandell,  A.,  Titusville,  Pa.  1538 

Mang,  A.  G.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1812 

Mann,  Chas.  A.,  Casenovia,  N.  Y.  2154 

Manning,  David,  Worcester,  Mass.  1418 

Manning,  W.  B.,  Kokomo,  Ind.  3179 

Mansfield,  Geo.  E.,  Springfield,  Mass.  64 

Mansfield,  Howard,  New  York  1128 

MiansioH  Hause^  Morristown,  N.  J.  1784 

Miansian  Heuse,  Northampton,  Mass.  2248 

Mansion  Home^  Williamstown,  Mass.  1893 

Mansion  House,  Yonkers,  N.  Y.  2775 
MarBlekead  Bi,  Club,  Marblehead,  Mass.  494 

Marcy,  Arthur  D.,  Boston,  Mass.  1358 

Marion,  Wm.  C,  New  York  2739 

Markell,  Edward,  Baltimore,  Md.  2001 

Marsden,  G.  F.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  1534 

Marsh,  A.  L.  C,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  2689 

Marsh,  Garence,  Chicago^  111.  3269 

Marsh,  D.  W.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  1969 

Marsh,  Gto.  E.,  Hartford,  Ct.  794 

Marsh,  W.  C,  Springfield,  Mass.  99s 

Mamhall,  A.  S.,  Rutland,  Vt  2 161 

Marshall,  N.  S.,  Rutland,  Vt.  217s 


Martin,  Alf.  P.,  Clearfield,  Pa.  2288 

Martin,  Frank  P.,  Boston,  Mass.  2091 

Martin,  George,  Sydney,  N.  S.  W,  2214 

Ma.  tin,  Geo.  J.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  2525 

Martin,  James,  Sydney,  N.  S.  IF.  2215 

Martin,  W.  E.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1226 

Martin,  W.  W.,  Salem,  Or.  2744 

Martine,  J.  B.,  New  York  2509 

Marvin,  WiU  C,  Ovid,  Mich.  1228 

Maslin,  G.  William,  Baltimore,  Md.  1692 

Mason,  Crawford,  New  York  66 

Mason,  Elliott,  New  York  239 

Mason,  H.  P.,  Sa  Kilvingtoo,  Eng.  3962 
Mason,  jr.,  Volney  W.,  Providence,  R.  1. 1312 

Massey,  L.  J.,  Chariotte,  S.  C.  1298 

Matem,  W.  J.,  Bloomington,  III.  2483 

Mather,  Geo.  E.,  Mentor,  O.  2824 

Mathers,  Hugh  T.,  Sidney,  O.  186s 

Mathews,  Albert,  New  York  2925 

Matthews,  Brander,  New  York  908 

Matthews,  J^  R.,  Madison,  Ind.  2597 

Maurer,  J.  M.,  Washington,  Pa.  2136 

Mayer,  Geo.  L.,  Scranton,  Pa.  2194 

Mayer,  V.  F.,  Chicago,  III.  3137 
Maynadier,  Henry  D., Washington,  D.  C  203 

Maynard  House,  Solon,  Me.  183 1 

Mead,  jr.,  Frederidc,  New  York  2209 

Mead,  Robert  D.,  Newark,  N.  J.  395 

Mead,  S.  Allen,  PeekskiU,  N.  Y.  754 

Mealy,  A.  E.,  Bakimore,  Md.  441 

Meeker,  James  R.,  Newark,  N.  J.  894 

Meeker,  W.  M.,  San  Frandsco,  CaL  2613 

Meerhoff,  Charles,  Irwin,  Pa.  2181 

Meeteer,  W.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1350 

Mehring,  H.  W.,  Elgin,  lU.  1482 

Menus,  W.  K.,  Burlipgton,  Vt.  1970 

Mellor,  Wm.  E.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  84 

Mentzel,  A.  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  352 

Mercereau,  E.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1678 

Mergenthaler,  A.  E.,  Fostoria,  O.  442 

Merrill,  Edwin  R.,  Yarmouthville,  Me.  2645 

Merrill,  Fred.  T.,  Portland,  Or.  1573 

MerrilPs  ResUtstrant,  Hartford,  Ct.  2138 

Merritt,  Henry  K.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  246 

Merritt,  W.  H.,  Woodstock,  (hU.  936 

Mersch,  Herman,  Appletoa  City,  Mo.  2S73 

Merwin,  jr.,  E.  P.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  2273 

Messer,  Frank  H.,  Stoneham,  Mass.  1635 

Messier,  Leon  B.,  Canton,  111.  2677 

Metcalf,  H.  J.,  So.  Framingham,  BCass.  3187 

Metiver,  C,  St.  Heliers,  Eng.  2934 

Meyer,  Frank  C,  Canton,  O.  104 

Meyer,  H.  H.,  New  York  ii6s 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 

Utya,  H.  J.,  Fori  Waym,  Ind.  <JS4         "' —  ""'  *     "~  " ■""  ' 

Ueyer,ir.,  Jot.  A.,C»num,  O.  1849 

Uiycr,  O.  H.,  Richmcmd,  Va.  )ii9o 

Utjtn,  Gto.  M.,  WMhinglon,  D.  C  1684 

Hicheli,  Wilier,  Stimionl,  CI.  1715 

Hickcy,  H.  E,,  Fouori*,  O.  ]oi 

Ukkllelan,  W.  H.,  Huriiburg,  Pa.  194 
MiddUtmrn  WMhICM,  Middlclown.Cl.  3"» 

Uidgley,  Thoinu,  Buvei  Filli,  Pa.  «oS 

Mildrum,  W.  W.,  Eut  Berlin,  Ct.  lu 

Miles,  Samuel  A. ,  Chicago,  111.  !»} 

Mile>,  W.  C.  Cincinnai;,  O.  m* 

Milhau,  R.  L.,  Bnnkirn,  N.  V.  J6» 

HiTeiDaii.W.  H.,  New  Yofk  i;;) 

Uilter,  A,  E„  Shepheidilown,  W.  Vi.  1176 

Hilkr,  jr.,  B.  K.,  Milwaukee,  Wii.  147 

Hitler,  C.  Herbert,  Hnnlingtan,  Pi.  6)7 

Millet,  Clui.  H.,  Sprin(£eld,  Mau.  1169 

Miller,  Ou>.  M. ,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  ]4S 

HillcT,  Daylon  C,  Berea,  O.  1460 

Miller,  D.  E.,  Springfield,  Hiu.  99B 

Miller,  E.  C,  Haydeimlte,  Uau.  rn 

MU!er,  E.  E.,  CanloD,  O.  ;)d 

Miller,  Edw.  H.,  Poftland,  Or.  IJ9] 

Miller,  Frank  A„  Siuqnehanni,  Pa.  ii^fi 

Miller,  Fiaok  S.,  Wenfield,  N.  ;,  na. 

Miller,  F.  W„  Aihland,  O.  179 

Kilter,  C.  A.,  SandhorM,  yicl.  1046 

Miller,  Geo.  D.,  New  Haven,  CI.  411 

Miller,  Geo.  S.,  Spiingteld,  MaH.  1009 

Hiller,  Howard,  Newark,  N.  J.  >»6 

tfllleT,  H.  G.Meriden.Ct.  ii]i 

Miller,  J.  D.,  Monlreal.^w.  1144 

Miller,  J.  E.,  Troy,  N.  V.  tm 

Hiller,  Juliiu  M.,  Enowotih,  Pa.  1446 

Miller,  Joho  P.,  Otwego,  N.  Y.  SSj 
Miller,  Stuart  C,  Cambridgeport,  Mau.  iiSi 

Hiller,  T.,  Ballarat.  ykl.  J041 

Miller,  Wm.  Allen,  New  York  I4» 

Miller,  W.  H,,  Columbu.,  O.  iiS 

Milla,  B.  O.,  Camden,  N.  J.  iii 

Hilner,  W,  E..  London,  Enf  "}'* 

Hilner,  Wm.  N.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  16S9 

Millon  BnilleyCa.,SpTinEftcld,  Ktm.  3141 

Milvia,  Samuel,  Wiyneriwis,  Pa.  iSa6 

Mintoo,  Joie|A  C,  Chatham,  N,  J.  so7 

Hirkk.jr.,  Frank  B.,  New  York  tSji 

Hiiner,  John  S.,  Peoria,  111.  ijn 

Mitchell,  Alex.,  New  Pretton,  Ct  1114 

Mitchell,  C.  T,  CanandaigiH,  N.  Y.  jS 

MHchell,  J.  T.,  Billawi  Fall*,  Vl  iMi 

Mitchell,  W.  E.,  Ponlai>d,  Or.  1191 

Mitchell.  W.  L,,  Hiddlelown,  Ct.  I34> 


754 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Myers,  Frank,  Loodoo,  Eng.  3964 

Myers,  PbUip  N.,  Covington,  Ky.  so8 

Natienal  HoUl^  Chambersbuxg,  Pa.  3790 

NtUiatuU HoUl^  Waynesboro,  Pa.  1353 

Nedels,  S.  T.,  Groveport,  O.  1199 

NeUl,  Jas.  W.,  Mine  La  Motte,  Mo.  3310 

Newby,  Geo.  Rayson,  New  York  136 

Newcastle,  C.  C,  Portland,  Or.  1665 
Newball,  Eugene  P.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  300 
Nra  MeChire  House,  WbeeUng,  W.Va.  3145 

Newman,  J.  Ernest,  Canton,  Pa.  3636 

Newman,  W.  G.,  New  York  1379 

Ngm  York  Bicycle  CM  3400 
New  York  Toy  Co.,  New  York       3063-3064 

Nichol,  Robert  W.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3436 

Nicholas,  Arthur  L,  Youngstown,  O.  1049 

Nichols,  John  W.,  Westficld,  N.  J.  1131 

Nichols,  W.  C,  Oxford,  Md.  3395 

Nicholson,  A.,  St  Loms,  Mo.  3948 

Nicholson,  John  C,  Cleveland,  O.  3651 

Nicholson,  J.  W.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3791 

Nickerson,  H.  C,  Portland,  Or.  3675 

Niesley,  C.  M.,  Mechanicsburg,  Pa.  68x 

Niles,  Aaron  R.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  3430 

Nivling,  Curtin,  Clearfield,  Pa.  3389 

Nixon,  Alfred,  London,  ^ng,  843 

Nixon,  T.  S.,  StafEord,  Eng,  3531 
Nixon,  W.  G.,  Chambcrsborg,  Pa.  1137,3747 

Norman,  Bcnj.  M.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  384 

Norman,  C.  W.,  Qeveland,  O.  1587 
Norman,  Wescott,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  348,  349 

Norraccutt  &  Co.,  J.  £.,  Pittsbuig,  Pa.  1980 

NorrU  House,  Lebanon,  Ky.  3o3S 

Norris,  Albert  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  59 

Norris,  J.  Foxley,  London,  Eng.  1250 

Norris,  Will  E.,  Helena,  Mont.  3334 

North,  Wm.,  Teheran,  Persia  3361 

Northern,  C.  C,  Nuhville,  Tenn.  3397 

Northern,  J.  B.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3398 

Northern,  KL,  Nashville,  Tenn.  399S 

Northrop,  C.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  393 

Norton,  F.  J.,  Wheeling,  W.  Va.  3145 

Norton,  M.  J.,  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.  347 

Norton,  P.  T.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  1536 

Noiirse,  C.  G.  K.,  Whitby,  Onl,  734 

Nouree,  W.  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  607 
Nunn,  C.  H.,  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  Eng.  3563 

Nutting,  A.  F.,  Lewiston,  Me.  3970 

Oak,  H.  C,  Merrimac,  Mass.  3300 

Obreiter,  S.  H.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  3339 

O'Connell,  jr.,  Colman,  Limerick,  Ire.  3038 

O'Connor,  Frank,  London,  Eng.  3334 

O'Connor,  jr.,  T.  J.,  Portland,  Or.  3097 


'Odell,  Chas.  H.,  Salem,  Mass.  351 

Odell,  Chas.  W.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  1118 

OdeU,  W.  P.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.          .  3081 

Oeters,  George  C,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  399 

Oettinger,  Jacob,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  3095 

Qgden,  H.  C,  Middletown,  N.  Y.  759 

Ogilvie,  James,  Dundee,  Scot.  1843 

Oglesbee,  R.  B.,  Plymouth,  Ind.  c8 

Ohnhous,  Louis,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1757 

Okey,  J.,  Sandhurst,  Vict,  3058 

Oliver,  £.,  Baltimore,  Md.  1433 

Oliver,  Edwin,  New  York  130 

Oliver,  W.  George,  Edinburgh,  Scot,  3i3r 

Oliver  &  Co.,  W.  N.,  New  York  3696 

Olmstead,  W.  W.,  Mt.  Carmel,  IIL  873 

Olney,  Charles  M.,  Mansfield,  Pa.  1780 

Ormsbee,  James  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  (401 

Orr,  C.  P.,  New  Castle,  Ala.  1047 

Orr,  G.  H.,  Toronto,  Ont.  3366 

Osbom,  George  P.,  So.  Boston,  Mass.  3003 

Osborne,  G,  N.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  135 

Osborne,  M.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1335 

Osgood,  W.  S.,  St.  Joseph,  Mo.  3139 

Osterhout,  W.  £.,  Orange,  Mass.  377a 

Otis,  Qiarles,  New  York  431 

Ottman,  A.  B.,  Titiisville,  Pa.  1539 

Otto,  Frank  R.,  Williamsport,  Pa.  88 

Oviatt,  N.  C,  Waterbury,  Ct.  3983 

Ovid  Bicycle  Club,  Ovid,  Mich.  1474 

Owen,  O.  L.,  Whitinsville,  Mass.  3357 
Owen,  W.  O.,  Laramie  City,  Wy.  Ter.     3$3 

Owens,  J.  E.,  Liverpool,  Eng.  ifpi 

Packard,  W.  D.,  Warren,  O.  1906 

Page,  Arthur  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  3477 

Page,  Fred  S.,  Willimantic,  Ct.  108S 

Page,  Irvin  N.,  Chicopee  Falls,  Mass.  389s 

Page,  W.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3396 
Paillard,  Alf.  £.,  New  York                   15,  t6 

Paine,  Richmond  P.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1067 

Painter,  J.  W.,  Christchurch,  A^.  Z,  1884 

Painter,  R.  S.,  Washington,  D.  C.  369 

Painter,  Will  H.,  Williamsport,  Pa.  541 

Palen,  Wm.  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  1738 

Palmer,  C  R.,  Burlington,  Vt.  354 

Palmer,  jr.,  Robert,  Noank,  Ct.  341* 

Palmer,  Ralph  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1814 

Paoli,  M.  G.,  New  York  1377 

Petrk  House,  Curwinsville,  Pa.  189B 

Park  House,  Moiristown,  N.  J.  1801 

Parker  House,  Latrobe,  Pa.  s8i8 

Parker,  A.  B.,  Norristown,  Pa.  3619 

Parker,  Edwin  C,  New  York  aaol 

Parker,  Ed.  F.,  Auburn,  N.  Y.  Jlr 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS, 


PariKT,  P.  F.,  aii»i>ee,  Man.  ■: 
PiukEr,  F.  M.,  Chicopsc  Fulh,  Mmb. 

Pukct,  Will  W.,  Mcriden,  Cl.  i< 
Pvkhill,  Charlo  E.,  BdvIdEre,  III. 

Pvk>,  C.  W.,  SprinEBtU,  Mau.  i 

Pukyn,  Chu.  C,  Bouon,  Mua.  i 

Pinnelec,  Edwin  L.,  New  Hann,  Cl,  i 

PimelR.  C.  1..  B«ton,  Mu*.  i 

PsTTnenler,  Ju.  S.,  Woodatack,  OiU.  i 

Panii,  J.  W.  L. ,  Augniu,  Ky.  > 

Piiiy,  W.  J„  Sanilhiini,  Vkl.  i 

FmhlCT,  F.  B.,  Eut  Rodinur,  N.  H.  a 

PanoDi,  Albert  S.,  Leiingion,  Uaa.  ■ 


Vvrrf,  Chai.  S.,  M^Ieto 


PeUn, 


'.  H.,  1 


1,  D.  C. 


sd  W..  Buffalo,  N.  \ 
P»r™i.,  H.  C,  Natural  Bridge,  Va, 
Pinani,  Waller  H.,  Newark,  N.  J. 
Partridge,  W.  H.,  Portland,  Or. 


Paldllo,  J.  B.,  Halifax  fl.  S. 

Patlillo,  T.  S.,  Trum,  N.  S.  i 

Paltison,  AnKur  E.,  B«Lon,  Mau.  i 

Palton,  Geo.  E.,  Chalham,  N.  Y.  i 
PaltoD,  J.  Hervey,  Huiiibun:,  Pa. 

Palton.  S.  U..  Holly  Spring!,  Miia.  ■ 

P«ltOB,T.  M,.  Trgro,  A'.  ,1.  i 

Paffair,  Ju.  E,  Scranlon,  Pa.  i 

Pajnie,  Geo.  S,,  Springfield,  Man  ) 

rtyat,  H.  R.,  aeveland,  O.  i 

Parne.W,  E.,Boci«ll=,Ci.  . 
Piyue,  William,  London.  Out. 

Pearee,  W.  J.,  London,  Euf.  i 

Peanon,  Geo.  B.,  New  York  ■ 

Peck,  Albert  F..  Dilroit,  Mkb.  i 
P«k.  Wm.  L.,  New  Haven,  Ct 

Peiruii,  E.  E ,  Batavta,  N.  Y.  i 
PdouH,  Fiank  H.,  Wadiinpon,  D.  C 

Pendleton,  J.  Louia,  Balfi«.  Me.  i 
Pendleton.  Wn.  H.,  Tiunion.  Man.      j 

PnifitUHtUl,  Penleld,  Pa.  i 

PenGeld,  Chaa.  H...CIenland,  O.  a 

Pennell,  G.  C.,  EHiabeth,  M.  J.  i 
Penney.  Frank  F    ■'—=-■—  -^ 
Fenniman.  Vala 
Pimx^hiamia  Bi 

Piiria  Funic  Li 

Perham,  Will  L. 


a.  C,  Bi 


a,  N.  Y. 


PelWe,  jr.,  J,,  S.  AtHngloD  Station,  Mas 
Petlengill.  Edw.  T.,  Waahington,  D,  C.  , 
ooklyn,  N,  Y.  . 

Herd,  John  A.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  il 

■r,  Geo.  J..  Jerwy  Gly,  N.  J.  i. 

ro,  Chariea,  Newarii,  N.  J.  ■; 

IT.  Will  L.,  Charlotte,  N.  C.  r; 

Phelpa,  Henry  C.  Oeveiand,  O.  ■• 

Phi  of  PiiUpulon,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich,  no 
PMadtlfkia  B!cyclt  CM,  6o  N.  ijlh  at.  ; 
~ I.  J.,  Salem,  Mass.  i 


I.  A.,  London,  £v. 


CI,  Ash,  Buitc.  Mont.  ] 

Tcponl.  J.  Shepherd,  New  Haven.  Cl. 

ion,  Arthur  N.,  Weallield,  N.  J.       i 

I^eiKin,  John  V.  L.,  Bloomfield.  N.  J.   i 

son,  Leopold,  Romford,  Eng.  loiS,  2 

Kginan,  J.  R.,  Cindnnali,  O.  i 

¥Wlns,  Cbas.  J.,  Philadelphia,  Fa.  i 

wnon.  Chas.  E..  Zanoville.  O.         i 

her.  Wilben  R.,  Poriland.  Me.  i 

lan.  Will  R..  New  York  i 

Pittenger,  Wn.,  HaddonGcId,  N.  J.        i 

-   *u.jFireAn™Co.,Pil<.hn.B.P..  . 

c.V.  CPinos  Alios.  N.M.  I 

Plait.  H.  M.,  Jetaey  Oly,  N.  J.  i 

~    we,  C  Harold,  Peoria,  III.  i 

mb.  CIlreiKe.  Ttnlianapolis,  Ind.        3 

mb,  jr.,  Willie  E..  Bimingham,  Ct. 

mmer,  )r. .  W.  E. ,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.        i 


il.K,. 


7S6 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Porter  &  Baker,  Bay  City»  Mich.  1093 

Porter,  E.  R.,  Deerfield,  Mass.  3360 

porter,  John  A.,  Washington,  D.  C.  laoo 
Porter,  J.  Madison,  Hackettstown,  N.  J.  1267 

Porter,  Luther  H.,  East  Orange,  N.  J.  1493 

Post  LArary^  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.  3207 

Post,  D.  J.,  Hartford,  Cl.  796 

Potter,  Charles  H.,  Cleveland,  O.  435 

Potter,  Howard  W.,  Reading,  Pa.  109 

Potter,  Samuel,  Callan,  Ire.  3197 

Pound,  Robinson,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  901 

Powell,  Abr.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3817 

Powell,  Joe,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1518 

Power,  Chas.,  New  York  3407 

Powers,  H.  D.,  Tomah,  Wis.  3803 

Pratt,  Arthur  M.,  Chelsea,  Mass.  s<53 

Pratt,  Charles  £.,  Boston,  Mass.  311 

Pratt,  Ed.,  Rockville,  Ct  1963 

Pratt,  F.  Alcott,  Concord,  Mass.      339,  1399 

Pray,  Chas.  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1718 

Pray,  William  E.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  3337 

Pray,  W.  P.,  Bristol,  Pa.  49 

Pray,  W.  S.,  Simcoe,  Ont,  1377 

PrebU  Hotutt  Portland,  Me.  3379 

Pieece,  A.  E.,  Christchurch,  I/.  Z,  3330 

Preston,  Frank,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  436 

Price,  C.  A.,  Jamestown,  N.  Y.  3159 

Price,  Ed.  A.,  Huntington,  Ind.  3931 

Prince,  A.  K.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  3699 

Prince,  John  S.,  New  York  1344 

Pritchard,  W.  J.,  Elgin,  III.  1483 
Probst  &  Fisbeck,  Terre  Haute,  Ind.  3331-33 

Probst,  J.  F.,  Terre  Hautei  Ind.  a709 

Pnxrter,  T.  R.,  Utica,  N.  Y.  3104 

Providence  Bi.  Club^  Providence,  R.  I.  3789 
Psi  UpsUon  Library^  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.     19 

Public  Library^  Bridgeport,  Ct      3150,  3151 

Pugh,  jr.,  J.  D.,  New  York  1590 
Punderson,  Samuel  F.,  New  Haven,  Ct  533 

Puring^on,  A.  J.,  Boston,  Mass.  3176 

Putnam,  Kingman,  New  York  3487 

Putnam,  L.  R.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3189 

Putnam,  S.  G.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  3693 

Putnam,  T.  J.,  Washington,  D.  C.  878 

Pyle,  Geo.  C,  Dayton,  O.  1343 

Ragan,  H.  H.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.  3755 

Rahter,  Chas.  E.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  143 1 

Rail,  J.  F.,  Iowa  Falls,  la.  3353 

Ramage,  Chas.  W.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  ao68 

Ramsay,  John,  Fife,  Scot.  3017 

Ramsey,  Wm.  Sidney,  Danville,  Pa.  1448 

Randall,  Howard  £.,  Millersville,  Pa.  1198 

Randall,  W.  West,  PhUadelphia,  Pa.  49c 


Rathbone,  Wm.  L.,  Randolph,  N.  Y.  430 

Ray,  Frank  S.,  Battle  Creek,  Mich.  260s 

Raymond,  Samuel  A.,  Qeveland,  O.  3936 

Rayl  &  Co.,  T.  B.,  Detroit,  Mich.  143 

Raven,  H.  S.,  New  Yoric  3495 

Read,  Frank,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3380 

Read,  Geo.  T.,  Belfast,  Me.  761 

Read,  John  G.,  Detroit,  Mich.  667 

Redman,  W.  F.,  Henderson,  Ky.  3330 

Reed,  Charles,  Ansonia,  Ct  888 

Reed,  jr.,  C.  C,  New  York  1380 

Reed,  Isaac  D.,  Newton,  N.  J.  1931 

Reese,  James  S.,  Baltimore,  Md.  151 

Reeser,  Wm.,  St  Thomas,  OnL  1839 

Reeve,  A.  B.,  Princeton,  III.  3003 

Reeve,  Sidney  A.,  Dayton,  O.  33 

Reid,  C.  v.,  Clarion,  Pa.  371 

Reid,  F.  F.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  1556 

Reifold,  Louis,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  3304 

Reimbold,  E.  H.,  St  Paul,  Minn.  3330- 

Reist,  H.  G.,  Florin,  Pa.  337a 

Remington,  W.  D.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1871 

Rennie,  Will  H.,  Truro,  N.  S.  1039 

Renninger,  John  S.,  Marshall,  Minn.  3305 

Retallack,  S.  G.,  Belleville,  Ont.  564 

Revere  HouUf  Springfield,  111.  3344 

Reynolds,  F.  W.,  Mt  Pleasant,  Pa.  3856 

Reynolds,  jr.,  H.  R.,  London,  Eng.  1356 

Reynolds,  Joshua,  Stockport,  N.  Y.  50 

Reynolds,  (Mrs.)  J.,  Stockport,  N.  Y.  1443 

Reynolds,  R.  B.,  Stockport,  N.  Y.  51 
Rheubottom,  jr.,  J.  R.,Wcedspprt,  N.Y.  1869 

Ribble,  George  W.,  Harrisonbuiig,  Va.  736 

Rice,  A.,  Columbus,  Ind.  3135 

Rice,  Albert  D.,  Boston,  Mass.  504 

Rice,  Arthur  W.,  Millbury,  Mass.  1330- 

Rice,  Dan.,  Giraid,  Pa.  3067 

Rice,  H.  B.,  Cheyenne,  Wy.  3353 

Rice,  Lewis  C,  Denver,  Col.  636- 

Rice,  Reuben,  Meriden,  Ct  '795 • 

Rich,  A.  C,  Saratoga  Springs,  N.  Y.  118 

Rkhards,  Charles  M.,  New  York  318s. 

Richards,  Frank  B.,  Chicago,  HI.  1348. 
Richards,  Gea  O.,  E.  Rochester,  N.  H.  3008 

Richards,  H.  E.,  Toledo,  O.  3328 

Richardson,  A.  C,  BufEalo,  N.  Y.  3781 

Richardson,  A.  J.,  St.  Geoife*s,  Ber.  3499' 

Ridiardson,  Harry,  Westfield,  N.  J.  433 

Richardson,  W.  H.,  Norristown,  Pa.  3553 

Richardson,  T.  J.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  939- 

Riddle,  Robert  M.,  Altoona,  Pa.  3334 

Rideout,  E.,  San  Francisco,  CaL  3070> 

Ridley,  Henry  E.,  Fairfield,  Ont,  171^ 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


757 


Riggs,  R.,  Suffern,  N.  Y.  1837 

Riley,  Alfred  E.,  Goulburn,  N.  S.  W.  3636 

Ringer,  Fred.  C,  New  York  68 

Ripley,  Edwin,  Sherman,  N.  Y.  3496 

Ripley,  F.  £.,  Springfield,  Mais.  1023 

RoAche,  A.  L.,  Indianapdiv,  Ind.  2129 

Robbins,  Bert.  C,  Auburn,  Ind.  2432 

Robbins,  J.  M.,  Lawrence,  Kan.  1614 

Roberts,  C.  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  140 

Roberts,  E.  M.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3186 

RoberU,  E.  T.,  Tilusville,  Pa.  1540 

Roberts,  H.  L.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  344 

Roberts,  J.  E.,  Wobum,  Mass.  1631 

Roberts,  James  W.,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  acoS 

Roberts,  Lyman  S.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  3419 

Roberts,  P.  B.,  Ithaca,  N.  Y.  707 

Roberts,  R.  P.  Hampton,  London,  Eng.  2869 

Roberts,  Wm.  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  437 

Roberts,  W.  R.,  Bangor,  Me.  217 

Robertson,  George  M.,  St.  John,  N.  B.  2056 

Robertson,  Robert  C,  Greenock,  Scot.  3016 

Robins,  George  H.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  651 

Robinson,  George  L.,  Gamett,  Kan.  478 

Robinson,  J.  A.,  Hamilton,  Oni.  1224 

Robinson,  J.  E.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  674 

'Robinson,  J.  Norris,  Wilmington,  Del.  188 
Robinson,  Thomas,  North  Shields,  Eng.  865 

Rockwell,  C.  J.,  East  Windsor  Hill,  Ct.  3283 

Rockwell,  G.  F.,  Stamford,. Ct.  i735 

Rockwell  Haust^  Glens  Falls,  N.  Y.  1879 

Rodgers,  Howard  S.,  Covington,  Ky.  207 

Roe,  jr.,  John  F.,  Scranton,  Pa.  594 

Roether,  Samuel,  Port  Elgin,  Oni.  2479 

Rogers,  A.  C,  Geveland,  O.  2652 

Rogers,  A.  W.,  Columbia,  Pa.  1695 

Rogers,  H.  Taylor,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  304 

Rogers,  John  S.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  729 

Rogers,  John  Z.,  Lowell,  Mass.  17 14 

Rogers,  S.  Edgcumbe,  London,  Eng.  3135 

Rogers,  S.  M.,  Ottawa,  Ont.  1963 

Rogers,  W.,  New  York  157 

Rolfe,  C.  J.,  Cambridge,  Mass.  1291 

Romaine,  Girard,  New  York  3404 

Roorbach,  A.  S.,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  401 

Root,  Fred  P.,  Cleveland,  O.  i66a 

Root,  Geo.  L.,  Birmingham,  Ala.  3012 

Ropes,  C.  J.  H.,  Bangor,  Me.  1099 

,  Roques,  jr.,  C.  P.  C,  Edinburgh,  Scot.  2532 

Rose,  B.  S.,  Trenton,  N.  J.  67 
Rose,  Will,  Ashmore,  111.                   443,  444 

Ross,  C.  B.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  2788 

Ross,  G.  A.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1748 

Ross,  C.  G.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2162 


Ross,  Ira  G.,  Mauch  Chunk,  Pa.  26 

Ross,  J.  S.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2590 

Ross,  William,  Rutland,  Vt.  71 

Rossberg,  C.  C,  New  Britain,  Ct.  646 

Rossman,  jr.,  Wm.  F.,  Hudson,  N.  Y.  44 

Rothe,  Theodore,  Boston,  Mass.  436 

Rourke,  EUlward,  London,  Eng.  1984 

Rouse,  C.  A.,  Greenville,  Pa.  1584 
Rouse  &  Son,  Geo.  W.,  Peoria,  111.  3536, 3527 

Rouse,  H.  G.,  Peoria,  111.  314 

Rowland,  Howard  J.,  Rome,  N.  Y.  3504 

Rowland,  John,  Dublin,  Ire.  3x15 

Rowland,  T.  W.,  Chicago,  111.  1078 

Roy,  F.  Austin,  New  York  337 

Roy,  J.  B.,  New  York  3402 

Ruck,  Robert,  Cleveland,  O.  aots 

Rudd,  W.  C,  Qeveland,  O.  2830 
Ruddle,  Richard  S.,  Mauch  Chunk,  Pa.  2704 

Rudy,  H.  S.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2327 
Rudy,  Martin,  Lancaster,  Pa.         1173,  1917 

Ruggf  Ja»-  Ff  West  Sydney,  N.  S.  IV.  2885 

Ruggles,  Edwin  D.,  Westfield,  N.  J.  1134 
Rumney,  A.  W.,  Cambridge,  Eng.  2561, 3235 

Rumsey,  C.  S.,  St.  Mary's,  0i«/.  1720 

Runyon,  D.  M.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  1158 

Runyon,  J.  F.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  77 

Ruoff,  George  F.,  Washington,  D.  C.  21  ix 

Rushworth,  G.  H.,  Frizinghall,  Eng.  3x16 

Russell,  E.  L.,  Blossburg,  Pa.  3366 

Russell,  Howard  H.,  Oberiin,  O.  3973 

Russell,  Talcott  H.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  859 

Russum,  T.  B.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  3697 

Rust,  T.  S.,  Meriden,  Ct.  353 

Rutland  Bicycle  Club,  Rutland,  Vt.  3  x6o 

Ryder,  E.  J.,  Waynesboro,  Pa.  X698 

Ryle,  Reuben,  Paterson,  N.  J.  438 

Ryrie,  Harry,  Toronto,  Oni.  X370 

Sackett,  Henry  W.,  New  York  3469 

Sadlier,  C.  W.,  Walden,  N.  Y.  3355 

Saffer,  G.  C,  New  York  X381 

Sagendorf,  H.  W!,  Hoboken,  N.  J.  1769 

Si.  Cloud  Hotel,  Canton,  O.  193 1 

Si.  Cloud  Hotel,  Washington,  N.  J.  1368 

St.  Elmo  Hotel,  Punxsutawney,  Pa.  1897 

St.  George**  Hotel,  St.  George's,  Ber.  623 

St.  James  Hotel,  Corry,  Pa.  2030 

Saker,  S.,  Eastbourne,  Eng.  2586 

Saiem  Bicycle  Chtb,  Salem,  Mass.  X83 

Salsbnry,  Frank,  London,  Eng.  2889 

Salsbury,  J.  E.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  847 

Salter,  Wesley  B.,  New  York  4>4 

Sanders,  W.  H.,  Columbus,  Ind.  2x32 

Sanders,  W.  H.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  3306 


75« 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


SandenoD,  jr.,  Geo.,  ScrantOD,  Pa.  a  19s 

Saodenon,  S.  F.,  Rochester,  N.  U.  2319 

Sanford,  Ben.  G.,  New  York  313 

Saoiord,  Pardon  B.,  Greenville,  S.  C  330 

Sanaom,  Frauds  J.,  Portsmouth,  Eng.  3937 

Saigeant,  S.  H.,  Newark,  N.  J.  746 

Saigent,  F.  L.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1937 

Sargent,  John  R.  W.,  Chicago,  III.  779 

Saunders,  W.  £.,  London,  OtU.  1693 

Savell,  J.  E.,  Roxbury,  Mass.  3010 

Sawtell,  Everett  £.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3303 

Sawyer,  E.  L.,  Faribault,  Minn.  3953 

Sawyer,  Jos.  H.,  Easthamptoii,  Mass.  3853 

Sawyer,  Will.  T.,  Akron,  O.  1085 

Saxe,  John  W.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  1097 

Saiman,  S.  A.,  Allegheny  City,  Pa.  598 

Sazton,  Will.  G.,  Canton,  O.  3303 

Sayles,  Wm.  H.,  Coming,  N.  Y.  693 

Scates,  John  R.,  Paducah,  Ky.  3388 

Scearce,  Frank  P.,  Lexington,  Ky.  905 

Schaeffer,  T.  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  458 

Schaufelbeiger,  Curt  £.,  Fostoria,  O.  503 

Schauher,  Joe,  Negaunee,  Mich.  3366 

Scherer,  C.  J.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  x6s4 

Schieser,  jr.,  G.,  Bristol,  Pa.  1838 

Schlegel,  Adolfo,  Milan,  Italy  3308 

Schmitt,  N.  B.,  Woodstock,  Va.  3368 

Schnauber,  F.  W.,  London,  Eng.  3006 
Schneider,  Louis  H., Washington,  D.  C.  1115 

Schofield,  James  S.,  Penfield,  Pa.  3374 

Schooley,  Frank,  Indianola,  la.  3165 

Schoonmaker,  H.  D.,  New  York  1333 

Schroeter,  H.  M.,  Watertown,  Wis.  3654 

Schumacher  &  Co.,  A.,  Baltimore,  Md.  1691 
SchtylervOU  Hmue^  Schuylerville,  N.Y.  1878 

Schwalbach,  Charles,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  944 
Scott,  Austin  W.,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.  3301 

Scott,  C.  W.,  Portland,  Or.  1667 

Scott,  Julius,  Hawley,  Pa.  3076 

Scott,  Jonathan  F.,  New  Brunswick,  580 

Scott,  Truman  H.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  1797 

Scott,  W.  E.,  Lockport,  N.  Y.  1818 

Scoville,  W.  L.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3336 

Scr4uU0H  Bicycle  Cbtb^  Scranton,  Pa.  3191 
Scribner,  Wm.  C,  Washington,  D.C.  630-635 

Scrimgeour,  C.  M.,  Galveston,  Tex.  3756 

Scroggs,  C.  J.,  Bucyrus,  O.  1095 

Scudder,  Townsend,  Glen  Head,  L.  L  3801 

Seabrook,  Wm.  L.,  Westminster,  Md.  1356 

Searie,  F.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1065 

Sears,  Proctor  E.,  Onville,  O.  3395 

Seaver,  James  H.,  Sheldon,  111.  1549 

Seaver,  Nate  B.,  Newark,  N.  J.  895 


Secoombe,  S.  H.,  Santee  Agency,  Neb.    709 

Seely,  L.  W.,  Washington,  D.  C.  1543 

Segur,  W.  B.,  Andover,  Mass.  535 

Seibert,  E.  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3336 

Seigle,  T.  B.,  Charlotte,  N.  C.  1357 

Seiler,  A.  P.,  Mansfield,  O.  1681 

Sekien,  R.  C,  Titusville,  Pa.  xya^ 
Selvey,  W.  H.,  West  Springfield,  Mass.  1003 

Serrell,  Harold,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  177 

Service  &  Fitton,  Auckland,  N.  Z.  1889 

Shafer,  Harris  T.,  Chicago,  111.  601 

Shaffer,  A.  N.,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.  1951 

Shaffer,  jr.,  F.  L.,  Baltimore,  Md.  h%\ 

Shakespeare,  Wm.,  Waltham,  Mass.  61  r 

Shannon,  R.  T.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  3841 
Shannon,  W.  J.,  Cambridgeport,  Mass.    603 

Share,  W.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1673 

Sharp,  Arthur  D.,  Amherst,  A^.  S.  1146 

Sharp,  Edward  F.,  Chicago,  111.  78* 

Sharpe,  J.  Henry,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3147- 

Sharpe,  jr.,  T.  H.,  Helena,  Mont  3944 

Shaw,  Edgar  C,  Qearfield,  Pa.  339» 

Shepard,  C.  H.,  Orange,  Mass.  3773 

Shepard,  Fred.  J.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  86» 
Shepard,  Geo.  G.,  Niagara  Falls,  N.  Y.  3600 

Sherburne,  F.  W.,  Barre,  Vl  3133 

Sherman  Heute^  Jamestown,  N.  Y.  3333. 
Sherman,  Geo.  CWatertown,  N.  Y.  833-83r 

Sherriff,  Edgar  J.,  Mortlake,  Eng.  198s 

Shillaber,  C.  F.,  Little  Rock,  Ark.  334 

Shimmin,  G.  H.,  Ballarat,  VieL  3044 

Shimmin,  H.  P.,  Ballarat,  Vici.  y^^ 

Shipton,  Ernest  R.,  London,  Eng.  13S7- 
Shirley,  P.  Howard,  Marblehead,  Mass.  istfS 

Shoemaker,  Geoi;^  A.,  Bristol,  Pa.  178s 

Sholes,  Fred  T. ,  Qereland,  O.  i  iss 

Shriver,  Edward  J.,  New  York  49s 

Shram,  C.  B.,  Greenville,  Pa.  isSs 

Sibbald,  E.  W.,  Belleville,  Ont.  5A8 

Sibell,  H.  Gardner,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  6a8 

Sieweke;  L.  W.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3187 

Sikes,  Leroy  H.,  Suffield,  Ct.  atp 
Silkworth,W.  W.,  E.  LongBrancfa.N.  J.  139^ 

Simmons,  W.  H.,  Sandhurst,  Vict,  3054 

Simons,  John  F.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  407 

Simpers,  Harry  H. ,  North  East,  Md.  41s 

Simpson,  H.  L.,  Passaic,  N.  J.  774 

Simpson,  H.  P.,  Scranton,  Pa.  3197, 

Sinclair,  Eugene,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3378 

Sinclair,  James  A.,  Liverpool,  Eng.  3606- 

Sinclair,  Percy  L.,  Sayre,  Pa.  354s 

Sinclaire,  jr.,  H.  P.,  Coming,  N.  Y.  68^ 
Sisley,  Chas.  P.,  Catford  Hill,  Eng.     (a9Si> 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


Suer,  Henry  D.,  Crivctaiul,  O. 
SkioiKr,  Elmer,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Skinner,  R.  H.,  HaniUon,  Out. 
SladB,  loho  A.,  U^nnbii,  Pa. 
Slulcr,  F.  S.,  New  Kann,  Ct. 
Ehter,  F.,  New  Britain,  Cl. 

SlEgel,  Samuel  E.,  Reailii 
S1e«hl,  E.  H.,  Holine, 
Slocum,  Chai.  E.,  Defiance,  O. 
Slocnm,  Winfield  5.,  Boeton,  Man. 
Slocumb,  Jeue  E.,  Micon,  Ga, 
SlDper,  F.  G.,  Sydney,  N.  S.  If. 
Sli»»n,  T.  M.,  Minneapolii,  Mioa. 
Small,  Chi9.  H.,  Harriibuix,  Pa. 
Sinillie,  G.  aiRord,  Newark,  X.  J. 


III. 


nilh,  / 


ity.  Or. 


I,  P.,  BroQlilyn,  > 
Snhh,  C.  A.,  La  Cni»e,  Vlii. 
Smith,  C.  v.,  Indianapolii,  Ind. 
Smith,  C.  H.,  Detroit,  Micta. 
Smith,  C  ShiHird,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Smith,  C  T.,  Bethlehem,  Pl 
Smith,  D.  Sheman,  Lancaster,  Pa. 
Smith,  Emeu  B.,  East  Btimlield,  Hau. 
Smith.  Edward  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Smith,  E,  D.,  Allegheny  City,  Pa, 
Sndlh,  Eugene  L.,  Springfield,  MaM. 
Smith,  Eugene  M.,  Jeruy  City,  N.  J. 
Smith,  Frank  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Smith,  Frank  W.,  Beech  Qift,  Pa. 
Smith,  Cordon  F.,  New  Vork 
Smith,  George  L.,  Little  FilU,  N.  V. 
Smith,  Howard  A.,  Newark,  N.  J. 
Smith,  H.  B.,  Smilhville,  N.  J. 
Smith,  Hnmce  E.,  PbiUdelpbia,  PL 
Smith,  H.  Keulcr,  Gncinnali,  O. 
Smilh,  Harry  S.,  Mattinaburg,  W.  Va. 
Snulh,  J.  Chaa.  V.,  Waihingtoo,  D.  C. 
Srdlb,  J.  Edwards,  Oeveland,  O. 
Snilh,  J.  E.,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Smilh,  J.  W.,  Orange,  N.  J, 
Smith,  L,  Logan,  Gcrmantown,  Pa. 
Smith,  Robert  A.,  New  Hann,  Ct. 
Smilh,  Reuben  G.,  Ardmore,  Pa. 
Smith.  Sij(ma,  London,  Erig, 
mith.  Thompson,  Cheboygan.  Mtch. 


imilh,  1 


wVork 


Smith,  W.  E..  Lynn,  Mass.  19 

Smith,  Willard  P.,  Jeiiey  Oty.  N.  J.  91, 9 
Smith  Machine  Co.,  The  H.  B..mfra,Dt 

rStar  tncycie,  Smithville,  N.  J.  rjol 
Sure,  Frederick,  Huntington.  Pa.  11 


Snededier,  C.  D..  New  Bruniwii^,  N.J. 
Snow,  Charies  F.,  Worcester,  Mau. 
Snow,  H.,  Oamini,  H.  Z.  1 

Snow,J.W.,Orange,  N.  J.  1 

Snyder,  A.  A.,  CaMweD,  N.  J.  i 

L.  M.,  Balrimore,  Md. 


lie,  0-<t. 


Snyder.  J,  W.. 
Solyom,  Cbarlefl  J. 
Solyom.  Louis  C.  Washington.  D.  C. 
SoRitn,  Thoe.  B.,  MiUville,  N.  J. 
Soper,  B.  W„  High  Wycombe,  Etg. 
Sonano,  jr.,  J.  M.,  Brooklyn,  N,  V. 
Soule,  George  T.,  New  Milford,  Ct, 
Sourbeer,  Chas.,  Columbia,  Pa. 
Southard,  Wro.  B„  Newark,  N,  J, 
SautitrH  CjKltr,  Thi,  Mi 
SoulhvHirth,  George  C.  S. 
Spalding,  Geoi^  M.,  WellsboiD,  Pa. 
Spariing,  FredJ„TorDnio,  0»*. 
Sparrow,  John  P..  Ponland,  Me. 
SpBulding.W.  D.,  Jackson,  Mich. 
Spead,  J.  A.,  So.  Newmarket,  N.  H. 
Spenceley,  J.  Winfred,  Boston,  KasL 


r,  O.  . 


[.  A.,  Seranlon,  Pa. 


Spencer.  J.  B.,  Hantoid,  Cl. 


Spiilan< 


t.  Louis 
:,  P.  H.,  Cohoes,  N,  V. 
Spndler.  Frank  L.,  Mt.  Vemon,  O. 
Spindler.  Frank  N,,  Ml.  Vernon.  O. 
Spinning,  L.  N.,  Summit,  N.  J. 
Spohn,  Frank  M.,  Ardmore,  Pa. 
Spooner,  A.  L..  Springfield,  Man. 
Spooner,  C.  W.,  Bridgeport,  O. 
"  Mass. 


Spooner.  H.,  1 


r>,  Ene. 


SfaHiyhmda  Helrl,  V-b\ 
Spranger,  jr.,  F.  X.,  Deln^t,  Mi 
Spriggr  W-.  Ei^r, 
S^iHgJitld  BicjKlr 
Sprinkel,  C.'  C.  Harriionbrnj,  Va 


I,  Pa. 
,  Md. 


760 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Siam/ord  HoHstt  Stamford,  Ct.  1722 

Staunm,  Alex.  Carson,  Harrisbuxg,  Pa.  1089 

Standish,  Chas.  D.,  Detroit,  Mich.  315 

Stanton,  A.  N.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  903 

Stanton  House ^  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  851 

Stanwix  Hallf  Chatham,  N.  Y.  2634 

Staples,  S.,  MorrUtown,  N.  J.  466 

Stark,  Jas.  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  2448 

*  Starr,  John  T.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  3177 

SUrr,  R.  West,  Wichito  Falls,  Tex,  90^ 

Steams,  Charles  W.,  Elgin,  111.  1484 

Stebbins,  W.  K.,  Worcester,  Mass.  3742 

Stedman,  Fnuik  B.,  Qeveland,  O.  1684 

Steel,  R.  G.,  St.  Johns,  Mich.  3603 

Steele,  Allen  D.,  Elmira,  N.  Y.  2705 

Steele,  T.  Sedgwick,  Hartford,  Ct.  791 

Stephens,  £.  V.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3359 

Stephens,  Frank  L.,  Riverton,  Ct.  1554 

Stephenson,  A.  H.,  Bu£Ealo,  N.  Y.  2537 

Stephenson,  Fred  J.,  Belfast,  Me.  840 

Stephenson,  John  V.,  Greensburg,  Pa.  526 
Steigus,  J.  J.,  New  Tacoma,Wash.Ter.  1719 

Stetson,  A.  L.,  Sioux  City,  la.  882 

Stevens,  Chas.  A.,  Cincinnati,  O.  434 

Stevens,  C.  S.,  Millville,  N.  J.  2x43 

Stevens,  David  M.,  Chicago,  III.  1281 
Stevens,  Geo.  Thaddeus,  New  York  2796, 2797 

Stevens,  John  C,  Portland,  Me.  451 

Stevens,  L.  W.  P.,  New  York  1547 

Stevens,  Thomas,  Laramie  City,  Wy.  1689 

Stevenson,  E.  P.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3 no 

Stevenson,  John  M.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  1409 

Steves,  R.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1760 

Stewart,  Chas.  £.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  2609 

Stewart,  R.  L.,  Roselle,  N.  J.  2987 

Stickney,  E.  R.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3304 

Stiles,  P.  H.,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  2693 

Stiles,  Wm.  H.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2336 

Stimson,  W.  F.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  677 

Stine,  W.  C,  Sycamore,  111.  2916 

Stii^ick,  H.  B.,  Aurora,  111.  1949 

Stites,  W.  Scott,  Wyoming,  Pa.  2976 
Stoddard,  S.  R.,  Glens  Falls,  N.  Y.  2850, 2851 
Stokes,  F.  C,  Moorestown,  N.  J.  6t,  62 
Stone,  C.  E.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  (d.  Sept., '8s)  621 

Stone,  Henry  D.,  Westboro,  Mass.  1948 

Stone,  W.  C,  Springfield,  Mass.  694 

Stone,  W.  E.,  Concord,  Mass.  3316 

Stone,  W.  F.,  Bangor,  Me.  2083 

Storey,  B.  W.,  Sraithville,  N.  J.  1514 
Story,  Will.  J.,  Goldendale,  Wash.  Ter.  2331 

Stover,  H.  E.,  Altoona,  Pa.  3237 

Strait,  H.  N.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  3131 


Stran,  Chas.  S.,  Baltimore,  Md.  j% 

Strong,  A.  Warren,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  946 

Strong,  £.  L.,  Cleveland,  O.  1594 

Stubblefield,  Smith,  Pine  Blu5,  Ark.  2727 

Stults,  H.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2049 

Sturdevant,  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  .132 

Sturmey,  Henry,  Coventry,  Enf^.  870 

Sturtevant,  A.  F.,  Concord,  Mass.  3317 

Sturtevant,  James,  Madison,  N.  Y.  12x1 

Styles,  Fred  W.,  New  York  1306 

Sullivan,  R.  E.,  Harrisonburg,  Va.  738 

Sumner  House^  Akron,  O.  1786 

Surprise,  W.  L.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  1543 

Surrey  Machinists  Co.,  London,  Et^[.  3134 

Sutton,  £.  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2857 

Swain,  Fremont,  Cambridge,  Mass.  3589 

Swain,  S.  H.,  London,  Eng.  3661 

Swaine,  Seorim,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2367 

Swallow,  Francis  O.,  Westboro,  Mass.  603 

Swan,  Cameron,  Bromley,  Eng.  2565 

Swarthout,  Fred,  Aurora,  111.  1643 
Sweeley,  Frank  L.,  Adel,  la.            778,  1091 

Sweet,  F.  Grant,  Carpenters,  Pa.  3023 

Sweetser,  M.  F.,  Boston,  Mass.  937 

Swift,  Samuel,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  2893 

Swinden,  S.,  Scarborough,  Eng.  2936 

Sylvester,  (Miss)  Annie,  Chicago,  111.  1466 

Symonds,  Frank  P.,  Salem,  Mass.  i8a 

Tabor,  E.  S.,  Schuylerville,  N.  Y.  70 

Talbot,  J.  D.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  893 

Tate,  Henry,  Verplank's  Pt.,  N.  Y.  547 

Tatnall,  Richard  P.,  Wilmington,  Del  1308 

Taylor,  Edgar  A.,  BufEalo,  N.  Y.  saoa 

Taylor,  Edie,  Preston,  Minn.  3159 

Taylor,  E.  Howard,  New  Britain,  Ct  1205 

Taylor,  G.  Burton,  Newark,  N.  J.  749 

Taylor,  Geo.  J.,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  1399 

Taylor,  H.  L.,  Augusta,  Ky.  ii6a 

7a>/9r /^Mciy,  Augusta,  Ky.  1163 

Taylor,  Joseph  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  30 

Taylor,  Lewis  D.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  324 
Taylor,  Robt.  E.,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.    617 

Taylor,  Theodore  E.,  Norristown,  Pa.  361S 

Taylor,  Will  G.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  64a 
Teames,  H.  H.,  Thomaston,  Ct.            .2783 

Tears,  Erwin,  Walden,  N.  Y.  257a 

Teetzel,  J.  J.,  St,  Thomas,  Ont.  XS54 

Tegetmeier,  E.,  London,  ^m^.  135s 

Temple,  Herbert,  Halifax,  N.  S.  $09 

Tenlon,  Arthur  M.,  Boston,  Mass.  1744 

Terry,  A.  B.,  New  York  as 

Terry,  H.  Warren,  New  Castle,  Pa.  1445 

Terry,  Stephen,  Hartford,  Ct  aj 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


761 


.  mialimer,  A.  G.,  Greenville,  Pa.  1588 

,  Thayer,  Francis,  Ne*  York  4«3 

:  Thayer,  Glenroy  A.,  Amherat,  Mass.  axsr 

.  Thayer,  Gea  B.,  Vernon  Depot,  Ct.  193 

Thayer,  Herbert  A.,  So.  Boston,  Mass.  864 

Thayer,  John  M.,  Norwich,  Ct.  3500 

Thayer,  WiUard  A.,  Amherst,  Mass.  a  186 

Theberath,  T  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  3505 

Thieme,  T.  F.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1756 

Thomas,  Aaron  S.,  New  York  i4>4 

Thomas,  Elmer  I.,  Lewiston,  Me.  807 

Thomas,  Fred.  C,  New  York  133 » 

Thomas,  P.  S.,  Harrisonburg,  Va.  3173 

Thomas,  W.,  Caaenovia,  N.  Y.  848 

Thomas,  Wm.  A.,  Conway,  Mass.  3302 

Thomas,  W.  E.  P.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  1763 

Thomas,  jr.,  Wm.  H.,  Baltimore,  Md.  556 

Thomas,  Wm.  H.,  New  Haren,  Ct.  9x9 

Thompson,  Alfred  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  55 

Thompson,  A.  E.,  Rockford,  III.  539 

Thompson,  Arthur  L.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1397 

Thompson,  James,  Baltimore,  Md.  185 

Thompson,  J.  F.,  New  York  2276 

Thompson,  John  M.,  Watkins,  N.  Y.  3587 

Thompson,  Robt.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  1837 

Thompson,  R.  A.,  Ballarat,  Vict,  3041 
Thompson,  W.  B.,  Bound  Brook,  N.  J.    733 

Thorbum,  Alban,  Uddevalla,  SwttUn  1637 

Thorn,  John  T.,  Bristol,  Pa.  1895 

Thome,  Wm.  C,  Chicago,  IlL  3909 

Thowe,  Robert,  Hartford,  Ct.  1406 

Thrasher,  J.  M.,  Elgin,  111.  148$ 

Thurber,  Harry  J.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1597 
Thurston,  A.  E.,  N.  Adelaide,  iS*.  Anstr.  313a 

Tibbs,  Horace  S.,  Montreal,  ^n».  1143 
Ticknor  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.          1649-Z65X 

TifEany,  J.  K.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  579 

Tiffany,  M.  L.,  Bristol,  Ct.  3350 

Tifi  Home,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3365 

Tillinghast,  L.  M.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1766 

Tillman,  Chas.  J.,  Baltimore,  Md.  363 

Timberlake  &  Co.,  Maidenhead,  Eng.  3078 

Tisdale,  D.  R.,  Simcoe,  Oni.  1380 

Titchencr,  Chas.  E.,  Binghamton,  N.Y«  799 

Titus,  Geoige  F.,  Norwalk,  O.  3749 

Todd,  Fred  J.,  Detroit,  Mich.  666 

ToUes,  E.  N.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  803 

Tomlinson,  J.  H.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  803 

Tonkin,  J.  W.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3765 
Towne,  Frank  B.,  S.  Hadley  Falls,  Mass.  aB 

Townsend,  H.  C,  Wallingford,  Vt.  3934 

Townsend,  Wm.  K.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1419 

Tracy,  A.  E.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  3610 


Travere,  L.  C,  So.  Gardner,  Massw  3009^  3109 

Trego,  Albert,  Baltimore,  Md.  3x57 

Tremere,  Francis  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  978 

Trenion  House,  Trenton,  N.  J.  1965 

TrigsweU,  James,  London,  Enj^.  3340 

Trimmer,  Daniel  K.,  York,  Pa.  1444 

Tripp,  S.  H.,  Peoria,  111.  3538 

Troth,  Henry,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  593 

Trotter,  Frederick,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  574 

Troup,  Montague  L.,  London,  Eng.  3583 
Trowbridge,  John  M.,  New  Haven,  Ct  3837 

Truslow,  John  K.,  Amherst,  Mass.  3363 

Tryon,  James  M.,  Toledo,  O.  3x30 

Tubby,  C.  A.,  Toronto,  Oni.  X373 
Tucker,  George,  Smiths,  Ber.          1080,  3498 

Tucker,  H.  M.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  sxxs 

Tukesbury,  Charles  C,  Portland,  Me.  X636 

Tulane,  V.  B.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  aiox 

Tullis,  WT  J.,  Montgomery,  Ala.  863 

Turner,  W.  J.,  Hamilton,  Oni.  3167 

Turpin,  W.  A.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  1836 

Tuttle,  Chas.  A.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  3067 

Tuttle,  F.  G.,  Rutland,  Vt  3173 

Tuttle,  Geo.  J.,  Aurora,  111.  1644 

Tyler,  Morris  F.,  New  Haven,  Ct  X40B 

Tyler,  N.  P.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  331 

Tjrson,  Robert,  Toronto,  Oni.  3073 

Tytus,  John  B.,  Middletown,  O.  X337 

Ulbrich  &  Kingsley,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3368 

United  States  Hotel,  Easton,  Pa.  1366 

UniUd  Staies  Hotel,  Newbuigh,  N.  Y.  1867 

Unseld,  B.  C,  New  York  7x3 

Updegraff,  George,  Hagerstown,  Md.  1353 

Upham,  Chas.  J.,  Dorchester,  Mass.  1856 

Valentine,  John,  Chicago,  111.  1304 

Valentine,  Sterling  G.,  Lebanon,  Pa.  6x6 

Vanaman,  Ellsworth,  Millville,  N.  J.  xzo6 

Van  Doom,  J.  W.,  Cleveland,  O.  3349 

Van  Hom,  Lyman,  Chicopee,  Mass.  3456 

Van  Liew,  H.  A.,  New  York  963 

Van  Nort,  John  J.,  Scranton,  Pa.  3$ 

Van  Pelt,  J.  C,  Harrisonbusg,  Va.  3174 
Vanschoick,Walter  M.,  Shrewsbury,  N.J.  608 

Van  Sicklen,  Norton  H.,  Chicago,  lU.  1541 

Van  Tuy],  F.  R.,  Monmouth,  III.  460 

Vamey,  G.  G.,  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  3369 

Veeder,  Curtis  H.,  So.  Bethlehem,  Pa.  3330 

Vendome,  Hotel,  Boston,  Mass.  3074 

Verhoeff,  Harry,  Louisville,  Ky.  3x93 

Verhoeff,  John  M.,  Louisville,  Ky.  XX39 

Verhoeff,  (Miss)  Mattle,  Louisville,  Ky.  3x94 

Vermilya,  Irving,  Tudcahoe,  N.  Y.  1164 

Veysey,  Walter  H.  P.,  New  York  165$ 


762 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Victoria  H^l,  Win<Uor,  N.  S.  9»4 

Vincent,  Harry  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  a97> 

ymuni  Nmue,  Tarrytown,  N.  Y.  aaii 

Vino,  Monroe  L.,  New  York  409 

Vinton,  W.,  Sandhurst,  K«rf.  1764 

Vtrginia  HaUl,  Stonnton,  Va.  137 » 

Von  Brandls,  G.  A.,  Los  Angeles,  Cal.  1953 
Voorhees,  jr.,  Geo.  E.,  Morristown,  N.J.  354 
Voorhees,  James  D.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  1798 

WackMua  Hfftue,  Princeton,  Mass.  915 

Wade,  B.  F.,  Oeveland,  O.  1903 

Wade,  jr.,  J.  H.,  Cleteland,  O.  1346 
Wady,  C.  S.,  Fall  River,  Mass.      2815,  aSss 

Wagner,  Chas.  W.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  326 

Wagner,  H.  A.,  Laramie  City,  Wy.  2415 

Wain  Wright,  L.  M.,  Noblesville,  Ind-  174 
Wakefield,  Frank  A.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3276 

Wakefield,  J.  L.,  Preston,  O.  i93« 

Walcott,  J.  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  2074 

Walker,  D.,  Wappinger*s  Falls,  N.  Y.  3144 

Walker,  Geo.  R.,  West  Randolph,  Vt.  236 
Walker  &  Co.,  G.  H.,  Boston,       278a,  279* 

Walker,  T.  H.  S.,  Berlin,  G^r,  786 

Walker,  V.  G.,  Cleveland,  O.  2779 

Walker,  W.  F.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1570 

Walkley,  A.  B.  A.,  Plantsville,  Ct.  1524 

H^aOact  Hmut^  Cheshire,  Ct.  207s 

Wallace,  H.  C,  Scranton,  Pa.  219s 

Walley,  Joseph  H.,  Chester,  Pa.  461 

Walter,  Geo.  W.,  Washington,  D.  C.  2141 

Walter,  T.  A.,  Hyde  Park,  Mass.  73 

Walton,  Cyrus,  Latrobe,  Pa.  2818 

Walworth,  A.  W.,  Collamer,  O.  2972 

Wanner,  Ellwood  J.,  Norristown,  Pa.  2S54 

Ward,  Harry  C,  Middletown,  Ct.  1928 

Warder,  Chas.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2328 

Wardwell,  J.  F.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1736 

Waring,  E.  J.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  305 

Warner,  D.  D.,  Bloomington,  III.  2475 

Warner,  F.  Howard,  Redditch,  Eng.  939 

Warner,  Russell  D.,  Greenfield,  Mass.  2361 

Warren,  F.  E.,  Portland,  Me.  2844 

Warren,  Henry  J.,  Stamford,  Ct.  2242 
Warren,  Henry  P.,  Lawrenceville,  N.J.  2659 

Warren,  H.  W.,  Jamaica  Plain,  Mass.  loi 

Warren,  W.  E.,  Astoria,  Or.  1652 

Wtirren  Green  fteiett  Warrenton,  Va.  1246 
IVearmambool  Mechtmkf  InttUutet  VL  2644 

Washburn,  H.,  Solon,  Me.  1831 

Wadungt^H  Hpmte,  York,  Pa.  3338 

Wassail,  J.  W.,  Chicago,  111.  148 

Wasserman,  Ben,  (St.  Louis,  Mo.)  175 

Wassung,  A.  B.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1018 


Wassung,  Charles  P.,  Rock  Springs, Wy.  64s 

Waterbury,  Lyle,  Denver,  CoL  1398 

Waterman,  L.  E.,  New  York  iss* 

Watkins,  W.  W.,  Casenovia,  N.  Y.  854 

Watson,  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2048 

Watson,  Jam^,  New  York  S49 

Watson,  J.  H.  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  2594 

Watson,  Perry  S.,  New  York  159 

Watt  &  Lanier,  Montgomery,  Ala.  1988 

Watters,  J.  H.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1939 

Watu,  Frank  D.,  Scranton,  Fa.  48 

Way,  Robert  F.,  Hartford,  Ct.  1062 

Way,  T.  B.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  2334 

Weaver,  Harry  P.,  Norristown,  Fa.  ajss 

Webb,  Arthur  N.,  Salem,  Mass.  259 

Webber,  jr.,  J.  S.,  Gloucester,  MaasL  jjS 

Webber,  W.  S.,  Casenovia,  N.  Y.  850 

Webster,  A.  F.,  Toronto,  Ont,  1269 

Webster,  B.  A.,  Jackson,  Mich.  3119 

Webster,  J.  W.,  Dublin,  Ire.  3038 

Webster,  Ralph  D.,  Schenevus,  N.  Y.  26x9 

Weed,  Edw.  O.,  Chicago,  111.  S^S 
Weed  S.  M.  Co.,  The,  Hartford,  Ct.  8i»«2i 

Weekes,  R.  H.,  Detroit,  Mich.  88$ 

Weeks,  Francis  H.,  New  York  2615 

Weeks,  Jos.  H.,  Norristown,  Pa.  2556 

Weir,  Ross  W.,  New  York  1329 

Welch,  Woodbury,  Yarmouthville,  Me.  269$ 

Weller,  John  A.,  St.  Louis,  Mich.  loji 

Welles,  A.  J.,  Hartford,  Ct.  791 
Wells,  Channing  M.,  Southbridge,  Mass.  3247 

Wells,  F.  E.,  Coipos  Christi,  Tex.  195$ 

Wells,  Geo.  A.,  New  York  t6is 

Wells,  Geo.  H.,  St  Albans,  Vt.  3091 

Welter,  Frank  T.,  Hoboken,  N.  J.  2649 

Wendell,  Harmon,  Detroit,  Midi.  670 
Wentworth,  Nathan,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  2577 

Wesley,  E.  L.,  Chambersburg,  Pa.  279s 

Weasels,  C.  T.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1523 

Wessels,  E.  T.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1679 

West,  H.  G.,  Piftsfield,  Mass.  3108 

H^esOoro*  HeUl,  Westboro.  Mass.  2826 

Westervelt,  F.  W.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1004 
Weston,  Edward  B.,  Highland  Park,  HI.  1334 

Weston,  F.  C,  Bangor,  Me.  3248 
Weston,  Frank  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  291-295 
West  Spring/!eld(yizs&.)  Tonm  Library  int 
Westwood,  William  H.,  Newark,  N.  J.    89s 

Wetmore,  John  C,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  1529 

Wetzel,  C.  J.,  Chicopee,  Mass.  loio 

Wetzel,  jr.,  Wm.,  Elgin,  111.  1486 

Wharlow,  Henry  T.,  London,  Eng.  3137 

Whatton,  A.  B.  M.,  Cambridge.  Eng.  2861 


WUlard,  W.  C,  Bnltlibcra,  Vl 
WiUbum,  F.  W.,  DouciMer,  Ettf.  19M 

Wi]li«r,  J.  C,  Newiik,  N.  J.  ,8, 

WiJJiuni,  Chu.  C,  PhLliddphia,  Pl     ij,, 
"    "~-,  UonlRDiiierjr,  All.     784 


r//£  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


Whuiaa,  J.  S.,  Loadon,  Bug. 
Wbedoo,  Cl>»-  C,  New  Vark 
WbtdD,  Ed*.  S„  Bouon,  Mu>. 
Wheder.y.,  J.  R.,  BaJiimon,  Md. 
Wbedcr,  JoKph  H.,  Mcdlord,  Man. 
WbeclH,  L.  it..  UouirdsvilJe,  N.  V. 
"  WMttlmi'i" Liirtty,  London, £iv. 
WlKrrell,i;iiu.,Hobvt,  Tat. 
Whtnj,  F.  P.,  Si.  Lo™,  Mo. 
Whipple,  C  E.,  Springfield,  Man. 
Wh^iplc,  O.  N.,  Spriugfidd,  Miu. 
WhiulKi,  Ceo.  E.,  SomeiviDe,  Mui. 
While,  Anhur  E.,  Wetificld,  Mi». 
White,  £.,  Wimuunbool,  I'itl. 
While,  Geo.  R.,  Welleilcy  Hilli,  Muo. 
White,  Naihan,  L«  Anselei,  CaL 
While,  Koben  D.,  W.  SpnngGeld,  Uaw. 
While,  Sloliei  &  Allen,  New  yorlc 
Whiichud,  B.  S.,  Newirk,  N.  J. 
Whileheid.  John,  Trenlon,  N.  J. 
Whiuluad,  Bobcn  V.,  Trempn,  N.  J. 
WhilehooK,  Henry  W.,  Hanfocd,  Cl 


763 


T.UlS. 


WbilinE.  Momer  J.,  V 
Whilinf.  John  H.,  Ne*  Hiveo,  Q. 
Whiling,  W.  A.,  New  York 
WhiuuD,  Fred  W.,  fialiimare,  Md. 
Whitnet.  Harry  K..  Reading,  Pa. 
Whitney,  \i.,  Eli,  New  Hann,  Ct. 
Whitney,  E.  G.,  Botlon,  MaiL 
Whinemne.  Cha*.  E.,  New  York 
Whitlemore,  Jaa.  O.,  Fairfiekl,  Us. 
Whiukaey,  J.  C.  RockviOe,  Ci. 
WhrJal'.  Cteift.  Beawr  F>ll>,  Pa. 
\nekerdiani.  J.  E.,  Bearer  FaDi,  Pa. 
Wickham.  Edd  C,  Psrl  Jtrrli.  N.  Y. 
Wiett\,  Wm.,  Indianapolii,  Ind. 
Wre«.  Fred.  C,  Bonlenlown,  N.  J. 
WieK,  H.  BeiHon,  Bordeniown.  N.  J. 
Wieae.  Lmiii  W.,  Bordmlown,  N,  J. 
Wiesenhld,  Jneph,  Rillimnrf,  Md. 
Wlesinier.  Chie.  C,  Adrian,  Midi. 
Wtfhl.  Fred  G.,  Springfield,  MlB. 
Wncsi,  Ed.  H..  Genoa.  HI.  i« 

Wflrm,  Fnd.  A.,  Maiden,  Maia. 
Wilcri,  JuIiiH,  New  York 
WiWer.  A.  D,.  Brooklyn.  N.  Y. 
Wnder,  Edward  P.,  New  York 
Wilder.  W.  R.,  Piil.field,  Mau. 


■..Benj.  F.,1 


nE,  Pa. 


WiUian 


F.  J.. : 


illiama,  C 
WUlianu,  Geo.  W.,  WelUbon,  Pa. 
WfUiam,  H.,  Level,  O. 
Willianw,  H,  D.,  Jolinatown,  Pa. 
Williuni,  Henry  W.,  Bouon,  Mau. 
Williama,  J.  Elliworth,  Delaware,  O. 
Willianu,  Ramos  V.,  New  York 
WUlianu,  Waller,  BoonriUe,  Mo. 
Willianu,  Wn>.  C,  Taunton,  Maaa. 
WiUiamt,  Window  T.,  Yintic,  Ct. 
Williana,  W.  L.,  RidfeMy,  Pa. 
Willi,  ir. ,  Thoa..  Calunel,  MicK 
Willton.  Chaa.  O,,  Reading,  Pa. 
Willmn,  John  I.,  Winena,  Wia. 
Will»n,  T.  E.,  New  York 
Wilmarrh,  H.  C,  ManiCeld,  Maia. 
Wilaon,  A.  J.,  London,  Eng. 
Wilfon,  A.  L.,  Rockland  Lake,  N.  Y. 
Wilaon,  Chaa.  E.,  Troy,  M.  Y. 
Wil»n,  D.  R.,  Sandhum,  yki. 
Wilaon,  E.  A.,  Nilca,  O. 
Wilun,  Geo.  A.,  FiichbuiE,  Maaa.  6j 

WilKM.Geo.  T.,  NewYak  161) 

Wilton,  ir.,  Janet,  Rockville,  Ct  i960 

Wilam,  J.  E.,  Newborgh,  N.  Y,  1081 

Wilton,  I.S.,Syrac>iae,  N.  Y.  1100,(995 
Wilton,  Samuel  E,,  Manlgomery,  Ala.  1170 
WilHB.  T.  J..  Pine  Blufi,  Ark.  tjtt 

Wilton,  W.  W.,  Uytonxone,  BHg.  jm 
Winani,  H.  J.,  Springtdd,  Mug.  ioe6 

Winan^  WiHiur  N.,  Springfield,  Mui.  1001 
Winana,  jr..  W.  S..  Kalonah,  N.  Y.  141 


an 

K4« 


764 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Wtntenrowd,  Ed.  O.,  Shelbjnnlle,  Ind.  605 

Winterateen,  W.  S.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  1441 

WhUkrop  HoUl,  Meriden,  Ct  a  139 

Wintringham,  C.  V.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1383 

Wiseman,  A.,  Auckland,  N.  Z.  3884 

WisUr,  Dillwyn,  Gennantown,  Pa.  1046 

Wocher,  Wm.  F.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2130 

Wombaker,  H.  Z.,  Pipestone,  Minn.  3333 

ir<wrf^iwr^/.  CA#*,  Hailey,  Idaho,  3401 

Wood,  Corey,  West  Springfield,  Mass.  2899 

Wood,  C.  J.,  Hackensack,  N.  J.  1233 

Wood,  H.  M.,  Worcester,  Mass.  713 

Wood,  H.  S.,  PhOadelphia,  Pa.  .435 

Wood,  jr.,  John,  Beverly,  Mass.  871 

Wood,  N.  H.,  Aurora,  111.  1640 

Wood,  O.  F.,  Auburn,  Ind.  2433 

Wood,  Wm.  B.,  New  York  1964 

Woodbum,  S.  M.,  Towanda,  Pa.  1050 

Wooden,  W.  H.,  Greensburg,  Ind.  3285 

Woodman,  C.  M.,  Omaha,  Neb.  360 

Woodman,  F.  W.,  Portland,  Me.  481 

Woodruff,  Chas.  B.,  Duluth,  Minn.  1352 

Woodruff,  I.  O.,  New  York  3319 

Woods,  Chas.,  Sandhurst,  Vkt,  3048 

Woodside,  W.  M.,  New  York  1343 

Woodward,  E.  W.,  Owosso,  Mich.  301 1 
Woodward,  R.  W.,  Elizabeth,  N.J.  2280,  2344 

Woolworth,  C.  C,  New  York  1861 
Woolworth,  jr.,  C.  C,  Brooklyn  224,  <453*56 

Woolworth,  Chas.  M.,  Ottumwa,  la.  2081 

Warctsier  Fn*  Pubiic  Library ^  Mass.  1309 

Worley,  N.  J.,  Cleveland,  O.  1739 

Worrell,  H.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  105 

Worth,  F.  E.,  Indianola,  la.  29S1 

Worthington,  Arthur,  Springfield,  O.  1909 

Worthington,  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  3336 

Worthington,  L.  W.,  Winona,  Minn.  1987 


Wothenpoon,  W.,  Sandhurst,  yiei,  305$ 

Wright,  Albert  J.,  Montdair,  N.J.  2860 

Wright,  C  F.,  Richmond,  Ind.  3171 

Wright,  Chas.  G.,  Philadelj^ua,  Pa.  1364 

Wright,  J.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3440 

Wright,  J.  Bidmead,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  a888 

Wright,  John  H.,  So.  Boston,  Mass.  soos 

Wright,  J.  H.,  Hanover,  N.  H.  1309 

Wright,  Sam.  B.,  Oscaloosa,  la.  930 

Wright,  T.  Houard,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  358 

Wright,  Wm.  S.,  Bristol,  Pa.  539 

YaU  CoBegt  Library ^  New  Haven,  Ct  133s 

Yates,  Frank  £.,  Chicago,  IH.  1451 

Yates,  Walter  F.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  9058 

Yerkes,  Chas.  E.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  457 

Yesbera,  G.  H.,  Auburn,  Ind.  3430 

Yingling,  H.,  Gettysburg,  Pa.  1254 

Yopp,  James  L.,  Wilmington,  N.  C.  3391 

Yowtg  MeH*M  Library t  Norwalk,  O.  3750 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  Library f  Nashville,  Tenn.  3943 

Young,  Arthur,  St  Louis,  Mo.  365 

Young,  C.  Dwight,  Mt.  Yemon,  O.  1795 

Young,  Harrie,  Aurora,  III.  1950 

Young,  John  J.,  Braceville,  III.  3346 

Young,  Mason,  New  York  3146 

Young,  Philip,  Upper  Montdair,  N.  J.  751 

Young,  S.,  Dublin,  /rt.  185$ 

Young,  Wm.  H.,  Peoria,  III.  389a 

Youngman,  Will  B.,  (Lancaster,  Pa.)  1263 

Youngs,  A.  J.,  Summit,  N.  J.  2S49 

Zacharias,  Charles  R.,  Newark,  N.  J.  384 

Zacharias,  Frank  R.,  Harper,  Kan.  3138 
Zacharias  &  Smith,  Newark,  N.  J.  3x88, 3189 

Zem,  E.  G.,  Coal  Dale,  Pa.  3310 

Zem,  John  F.,  Weissport,  Pa.  3350 
Zimmerman,  Joshua,  Indianapolis,  lod.  axaS 

Zuditmann,  L.  E.,  Springfield,  Mass.  xai24 


The  foregoing  list  contains  3196  names,  as  may  be  readily  proved  by  showing  that  it  ooveia 
XI  lines  (22  names)  more  than  an  even  30  pages  of  106  names  to  the  page,  except  that  6  names 
must  be  subtracted  for  taking  double  space.  These  subscribers  have  pledged  for  3370  copies  of 
the  book ;  and  the  largest  single  order,  from  the  80  of  them  who  ordered  more  than  one,  came, 
oddly  enough,  from  the  man  whose  name  was  placed  by  the  alphabet  at  the  very  head  of  the  list 
He  took  16 ;  the  second  highest  order  was  for  12  ;  there  were  seven  orders  for  10,  and  fewer  for 
6,  5, 4  and  3  copies ;  while  "  2  "  was  the  order  of  about  40  subscribers.  The  "  enrollment  num- 
bers "  for  these  duplicate  copies  have  been  omitted  from  the  printed  list  in  some  cases,  wbeie 
.their  insertion  Would  have  caused  a  blank  line  in  the  column. 

The  supplementary  list  of  200  later  subscribers,  enrolled  between  Feb.  23  and  Oct.  28,  i88t>. 
may  be  found  on  pp.   794-6.     Following  this  is  a  directory  of  122  subscribing  tradesmen,  ar 
whose  offices  the  book  may  be  consulted,— their  names  being  arranged  alphabetically  on  pp. 
,  79^7f  '^  geographically  <m  pp.  798-9^ 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 

Thb  aames  <rf  the  3000  subscribers,  which  have  just  been  exhibited  alphabeticadly,  are  here 
repeated  geogiaphicany.  They  are  grouped  under  residence-towtts,  which  are  alphabetized  by 
States ;  and  the  order  of  these,  from  Maine  to  California,  is  given  at  the  head  of  the  previous 
dupter.  Libraries,  hoteb  and  dubs  are  italicized,  and  are  named  in  advance  of  private  sub- 
scribers.  The  double  asterisk  (**)  denotes  insertion  in  "  Trade  List  of  Agendes  where  this 
book  may  be  bought  or  consulted  ** ;  which  list  forms  the  condusioo  of  the  present  chapter, 
and  wUchagendes  belong  for  the  most  part  to  dealers  in  bicydes,  who  are  otherwise  designated 
by  the  single  asterisk  (*>.  Cleigymen  are  marked  by  t,  faiwyers  by  },  physicians  by  T,  dentiiu  by 
I  and  druggbts  by  };  while  small-capitals  are  used  as  follows :  ic.  League  consul ;  Lcc,  League 
duef  ooosnl  (the  preddent  of  a  State  Dividoo) ;  ut.  League  representative;  ls,  League  secretary- 
treasurer  (of  a  State  Dividon) ;  l  applied  to  a  dub  means  that  all  its  members  belong  to  the 
League ;  l  applied  to  a  hotel  means  that  the  Lea^^  recommends  it ;  -re  and  toc  mean  consul 
and  State  consul,  respectively,  of  the  English  "  C.  T.  C." ;  wc,  woe  and  ws  mean  consul,  chief 
consul  and  representative,  reqwctivdy,  in  the  Canadian  Whedmen's  Association ;  o  means  a 
BOD-rider  and  m  a  non-member  of  dub.  Caintal  letters  des%nale  dub  officers  thus :  B,  bug^ ; 
C,  aqitain ;  F,  flagman  (cokir-bearer);  L,  lieutenant;  P,  president ;  S,  secretary ;  T,  treasurer ; 
and  they  are  used  as  follows  in  the  title-lines  (the  town*s  name  bdng  understood  ithtn  no  other 
is  given):  B.  C,  bicjrde  dub|  C  C,  cyde  dub;  T.  C,  tricyde  dub;  W.  C,  whed  dub; 
W*l'n,  w^iedmen.  The  parenthesis,  when  around  a  dub's  name,  means  that  those  grouped  be- 
kiw  are  presumed  to  be  members ;  when  around  a  man's  name,  it  means  that  be  has  left  the 
town  or  dub ;  when  around  the  official  letters,  it  means  that  be  has  left  the  office.  As  official 
terms  are  aQ  the  while  ewfing,  by  resignation  or  limitation,  the  parenthesis  should  doubtless  be 
used  in  many  cases  where  the  "  ez  "  has  not  been  called  to  my  notice ;  w4iile,  on  the  other 
hand,  many  active  officers  are  left  unmarked  because  of  my  ignorance  as  to  their  dection  or 
appointmenL  Likewise  in  regard  to  dub-membership,  the  mistakes  must  be  nomeroos,  as  so 
huge  a  proportion  of  my  subscribers  have  nq^ected  to  inform  me  of  their  status.  In  the  short 
fists,  where  a  dngle  dub  is  supposed  to  have  a  cidm  on  all  names  not  excepted  by  "  n  "  or 
**o**  or  the  parenthesis,  I  probably  have  fauled  to  make  exoeptioos  enoii^ ;  whSHit,  in  the  laige 
towns,  where  the  dub-u>embeis  and  unattached  are  giouped  in  separate  alphabets,  it  is  almost 
certain  that  severd  of  the  former  should  be  wiuugljr  dassed  among  the  latter.  In  fine,  I  do  not 
ask  any  one  to  accept  this  Directory  as  a  piece  of  perfection.  I  the  rather  warn  all  concerned 
to  be  recondled  in  advance  to  its  inevitable  shortoomings  and  errors.  Yet,  with  all  its  bults,  it 
lepieseuts  an  enormous  amount  of  painstaking ;  and  I  therefore  tmst  it  may  be  admired  by 
some,  in  the  same  tpmt  whidi  ensured  praise  to  tibe  performing  dogs  of  Dr.  Johnson's 
"  not  that  they  danced  wen ;  the  wonder  was  tbey  danced  at  all " 

MAINE.  Bmniwlek  :  Btmdnm  CMkgt  L&rary. 

AagMtft :    {Kemmbec  Caimfy  1V*rm\  Calais  :  {OOmiM  B.  C,  1885), 

Amgmda  Hmm^  C  S.  Hidibora.  Amerkmn  Home,  by  D.  M.  C;ardBer, 

:  C/'Mf  Tr»e  W.  C.  Oct  aa,  tsX  Frank  H.  Moote,  S. 

CnMfay,  W.  R.  Roberts,  VP,  Doter  :  W.  A.  Small 

Geo.  O.  Han,  C  J.  H.  Ropes,  tx,  THaAtAA. :  James  O.  Wk^temore. 

O.  Bu  HnBq)Brey,<L,  W.  F.  Stone, 
CSiartes  A.  Lyon,*      F.  C  W« 
tdfaaft :  J.  Loois  Ptendlelon, 
Geo.  T.  Read,*  Fnd  J. 


A.  F.  Nuttxqg,  Ehncr  I.  Thonaik 

Lobee :  CsStcPtk  J/^tel,  by  T.  J.  Linoda. 
Tmtim :  Win.  L.  Peihaas. 


766 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Portland:  (/*./f.C.,org.a8/».AC.,Mar.'8o), 
PrtbU  Hauu,  C.  H.  Lamson,**  lr, 

Herbert  M.  Bailey,    J.  H.  Lamcon, 
L.  M.  Bickford,         G.  B.  Morrill, 
L.  J.Camey,(LR),  iL,Wilbert  R.Pitcher,B, 
F.  S.  Clarke,  iL,        John  P.  Sparrow, 
O.  L.  aough),  J.  C.  Stevens,  (C),P, 

F.  A.  Elwell,  Lcc,  CCTukesbury,  S-T, 
L.  H.  Hallock,  tN,  F.  E.  Warren,  (S-T), 
H.S.Higgins.  (aL),C,  F.  W.  Woodman. 

Solon :  MaynardHoMU. 

Wftterville :  Elmwiwl  HaUl. 

Yannonth :  Eugene  Humphrey. 

Tannonthville :  J.  H.  Adams, 
Edwin  R.  Merrill,      Woodbury  Welch. 
NEW  HAMPSHIRE. 

Coneord:  {AioMcJUtUr  B.  C,  Mar.  22,  '82), 
F.  H.  Crapo,  W.  E.  Stone, 

F.  E.  Gale,  A.  F.  Sturtevant. 

East  Rochester :   iStar  W.  C ,  Oct.  6/82), 
Mabel  £.  Corson  (Miss),    G.  O.  Richards, 

F.  B.  Parshley,  P,      G.  C.  Vamey. 
Sxeter :  A.  H.  Giddings, 

Fred  S.  Fellowes,       W.  Burt  Folsom. 
FitzwUliun  :  Edwin  W.  Annable. 
Great  Falls :  {Cresctnt  C.  C), 

Clarence  E.  Benson,  Geo.  F.  Hill,  S-T, 

G.  Fred  Drew,  P.  H.  Stiles, 
Thos.  P.  Duffill,**     Nathan  Wentworth. 
L.  E.  Hanson,  P,  C, 

Hanover :  Darttmmik  Coll.  Library, 
C.  S.  Cook,  J.  H.  Wright 

Lancaster :  C.  D.  Batchelder,*  lr. 

Manchester :  (Jlf.B.C.),  H.M.  Bennett,  lcc, 
Elmer  E.  Brown,        F.  O.  Moulton, 
E.  A.McQueston,(LS.),  C.  H.Wilkins(LCc). 

Milford :  Chas.  S.  Emerson.* 

Kashna :  Wm.  V.  Gilman,  lc,  tcc,  (lT). 

VoxUmauth. :  {Rackifi£JkamB.C. tMzy8,*So), 
Kearsarg*  Houu^      W.  W.  Mclntire,  C, 
C.A.  Hazlett,(LCc),P,  Frank  W.  Moses. 
Mrs.  C.  A.  Hazlett,    Frank  Preston, 
J.  H.  Knox.  H.  M.  Tucker,  S-T. 

Rochester :  {Star  W.  C,  Oct.  6,  '82), 
Dodg***  Hotel,  T,       C.  M.  Dockham, 
Fred  L.  Chesley,        Willie  M.  Hartford, 
C.  H.  Cole.  E.  H.  Morrill, 

E.  H.  Corson,**  tc,  S.  F.  Sanderson,  $ 
Elmer  E.  Corson,       Seorim  Swaine. 

Salmon  Falls  :  John  W.  Mclntire. 

Soath  Newmarket :  J.  A.  Spead,  *lc 
VERMONT. 

Bam :  F.  W.  Sherburne. 


Bellows  Falls  :  Geo.  F.  Ball, 
Fred  H.  Kimball,  lc,  J.  T.  Mitchell. 

Bennington  :  Henry  D.  Fillmore. 

Brattleboro :  {yermoMtf^'.C.M^y^^^X u 
Brooks  House,  lt,  C.  R.  Crosby,  L,  lc, 
F,  H.  Allen,  J.W.  Drown,LR,S-T. 

E.  H.  Atherton,         O.  R.  Leonard, 
A.  W.  Childs,*  (C),    F.  F.  Reid,  C 

The  following  are  not  dub  members  : 
M.  Austin,  o,  G.  H.  Horton,  o, 

F.  H.  Brackett,  o,      O.  R.  Howe,o, 

F.  Cressy,  Alfred  M.  Ingham,  o, 

H.  J.  Cudworth,        (L.  M.  Tillinghast), 
J.  G.  Estey,  W.  F.  Walker,  o, 

F.  Goodhue,  o.  W.  C.  Willard. 

Burlington:  W.K.  Menns,C.R.  Palmer.  ,l.c 
Kutland :  Rutland  BL  Club,  l,  Nov.  i2,'8i, 
BardweU  House,  L,    F.  W.  Knapp,  L, 
W.  J.  Bagley,  A.  S.  Mai^haD,  P, 

N.  R.  Bardy,  (P),       N.  S.  Marshall, 
O.  M.  Barton,  C.  G.  Ross,  lcc,  C, 

J.  R.  Bates,  S,lc,tc,  William  Roes, 
S.  Bowtell,  jr.,  F.  G.  Tuttle,  (T), 

W.  W.  Burr,  lc,  H.  L.  Burt,  (B),  k, 

St.  Albans :  Geo.  H.  Wells. 
Springfield  :  Vred  M.  Harlow,  lc 
Wallingford :  H.  C.  Townsend,  lc 
Waterbury :  Fred  E.  Atkins,  lc 
West  Randolph : 
F.  E.  DuBois,  LC,       Geo.  R.  Walker. 

MASSACHUSETTS. 

Abington  :    Eben  Fish,  lc,  Charies  Reed.t 
Allston  :  (^ .^. C.Mar.  i4,'8s),A.H. Everett 
Amesbury :  A.  F.  Greenleaf,  lc 
Amherst: 
Edgar  R.  Bennett,     Willard  A.  Thayer, 
Glenroy  A.  Thayer,    John  K.  Truslow. 
AndoYor :  W.  B.  Segur. 
Beverly :  {Tkomdike  B.  C),  J.  Wood,  jr.* 
Boston  :  State  Library,  State  House, 
Boston  AthetuKum  Library,  Beacon  St., 
Hotel  Vendome,  l,  Commonwealth  av., 
International  Hoiel,  623'625  Washington  sL 
Abbot  Bassett,LR,  (ed.  Cycle),  22  School  st, 
John  R.  Chadwick,  75  Sute  St., 
Joseph  G.  Dalton,  87  Boylslon  at, 
J.  S.  Dean,  t  (lc,  Q,  i  L,  a8  State  st., 
Wm.  H.  Edmands,  (Q,  87  Boylston  st, 
W.  B.  Everett,  (T),  338  Washington  st, 
Willn  Farrington,(Lc),  TC,  (Lowell), 
E.  C.  Hodges,  P.,  a8  State  st , 
Chas.  S.  Howard,  48  Cheater sq.. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


?6? 


W.CKoidbJl,  1 1£,  LB,  TC,  176  IVemoBtM., 
R.  \m.  Kiwpp,  i6i  Tremoat  tt., 

Fiuk  W.  Worn,  (toc),  SsTin  HiU, 
Edv.  &  Wheeler,  4s  High  st, 

E.  G.  Wlntaej,  lc,  sL,  106  Dartmoath  st 
Ths  14  oaaMS  above  given  bekwg  to  mem- 
ben  of  tbe  Boetoa  B.  C,  die  oUett  b  Amer> 
ica,  now  at  36  St.  James  avenue,— fwtf  as 
noted  on  p.  10$.    The  aS  names  following, 

m   CTWibl^^olumn,   fepiesent  the 
BL  C,  whose  house  is  at  151 
Nenbniy  st.  (also  described  on  p.  105),  and 

of  250  exceeds  that  of  any 
dob  in   the  world.    The  a6 
in  the  thiid  lot  are  those  of  unattadied 
dnb  connections  have 
Total  for  Boston^Ss. 
Fiank  P.  Martin, 
Stnart  C.  MUler, 
Arthur  H.  Page, 
A.  S.  Parsons,  (P), 
Dnniel  W.  CoOnth,    Arthor  E.  Pattiaon, 
H.  D.  Corey,  A.  A.  Popc,  (P),  •• 

CfaasL  U.  Coifcen,       Edwaid  W.  Pope, 
(E.  R.  DrewX  Geoige  Pope,  (C,S), 

N.  C  Fowler,  jr.,      Chas.  E.  Pratt,  %  lk, 
J.  J,  Gill«*n,  F.  A.  Pratt,  tcc,  S, 

W.  L  Hanii,  ir,  l«,  W.a  SIocum,(VP,S), 

F.  W.  Heymcr,  Arthur  M.  Tenlon, 
T.  W.  H%^nson,  P,  F.  J.  Williams, 
Charles  F.  Joy,  H.W.  Winiams,t(P), 
Gea  B.  Brayton,  jr.,  143  Tremont  st, 

W.  D.  Ba]],5674|  Tremont  St, 
Joseph  Bmdaer,  6^8  Berkeley  st, 
D.  J.  Cteary.careof  Pbpe  M%.  Co., 
Jaases  E.  Caffasth,  381  Northampton  st., 
Charles  R.  Dodge,  (17$  Tremont  st.), 
IC  H.  Downs,  o,  33  Water  st., 
Hemy  Parker  FeBows,  to,  s8  School  St., 
Herman  Ffitter,  ir,.  16  Fayelte  St., 
Edward  O.  Goss.  43  Bowdein  st, 
W.  J.  Hall,  tf  Mt  V« 
F.  A.  Henta,  a 

W.  Howard,  ac.  at  MiDc  st, 

4S3  Bine  Hill  ar., 
W.  Paksi.  ya  Sosth  «., 
C  Pvkyn.  ms  Trcnmnt  st. 
Pope  11%.  Co..  «•  S97  Wariungton  st, 
A.  J.  Pnrmgion,  8B  W.  M ewton  st , 
Abert  D.  Riee^6$  Bfadkflone  st, 
J.  Winirad  Spenceley,  yon  Shawmut  mv.. 


M.  F.  Sweetaer,  «>,  an 

Tldcnor  &  Ca,**  an  Tremont  at, 

F.  H.  Tremere,  30  Alaska  st.,  (H«hla«Mk 
Geo.  H.  Walkerft  Ca.«*  160 'nnmontau 
J.  H.  H.  Watson,  499  Dudley  st 

Bridgewater:  A.  Cuahman. 
Brightwood:  Chas.  A.  Fisk. 
Brockton:  {pUy  B.  C,  May  a4t  '81), 

G.  C.  Holmes,  (F.  H.  Johnaoo,  Q. 
Cambridge:  Harvard  CoU.  Library ^ 

T.  W.  Higginson,      C.  J.  Rolfe, 

W.  B.  Howland,         Fremont  Swain.T 

Cambridgeport:  Ernest  R.  Benson, 
Stuart  C.  Miller,        W.  J.  Shannon. 

Charlettown:  <C  B.  C),  Jas.  C.  Doff. 

Obelaea:  (C.  B.  C,  1879),  Arthur  M.  Piatt 

Chleopee:  D.  Albert  Gushing, 
F.  F.  Parker,  to,    C  J.  WetzeL 

Chieopee  Falla:  Irvin  W.  P^, 
F.  M.  Parker,  Corey  Wood. 

Concord:  F.  Alcott  Pratt,  lc,  toc 

Conway:  Wm.  A.  Thoaus,t  o. 

Deerfiald:  E.  R.  Porter. 

Doroheater:  (r.AC,»8a),  W.S.  Doane,  Tft 
£.A.Hemroenway,S,  C.  J.  Upham,  P. 

Baat  Brimfleld:  Ernest  B.  Smith. 

Bait  Cambridga :  W.  C.  Dillingham. 

Kaathampton:  Ade/^  Library  4/  H^,  X* 
Chas.  J.  Keene,        J.  H.  Sawyer,t  a 

Fan  ElTor:  (A  C),  C.  S.  Wady,  S-T. 

Fltehbnrf:  (F.  AC.,*79),G.  A.  Wilson,  ix;. 

noraaea:  {F.C.C,\  Harry  B.Haven.ir.,  lU 

Ffttmlngham:  Franklin  Httichia«».t 

Owdnar:  W.  C.  Axtell 

Oraaailaid:  {G.  B.  c,  July  14,  •8i), 
(HolMs  B.  Bagg.  P),   F.R.  HoUUter.  LC.C, 
C.  H.  Field.  aL,        Q.  H.  KaalbMbi  t* 
F.  E.  Hawks,  i.«,      R.  n.  Wanar. 

GHonoaatar:  Conad  R.  Haoaon, 
J.  S.Webber.  Jr.,  i,«,TC. 

Havarhffl:  (/f.  A  C).  J.  F.  AdaMt,  («).  lA 

HaydanTUla:  W.  J.  Fuller, 
W.  L.  Uikin,  E.  c.  Millar. 

BolUttoa:  Willie  H.  Flskt,  1^. 

Hol70ka:(/r.AC.Sept.  I,  •»,), 
Ben).  Brooks,  o.         J.  s.  MrRlwala.  a, 
E.  C.  aarkt,  LC,  C,  C.  W.  Hm§m* 
H.  M.  Farr,  iL.        C.  ».  Rms, 
Herbert  Fenno.  (il.),  (f  n,  Tnwae), 
Wm.  O.  Gfnen.Ln.P.Chaa.  A.  TMlla.  i» 
Hopadrtai  Fred  L.  Fsy.  ^ 

HydaPuksT.  A.  Wtlier.M. 
JaoMloa  Flalai  H.  W.  Wama. 


768 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


w  (L,  B.  C,  '79),  E.  E.  Brandi, 
M.  D.Currier,  (lcc),  P,  D.  M.  Spooner,  B. 

IiM:  Morgan  HoHta. 

XitTr<"C*=«*"-  Albert  S.PanoQs,LC,  (ut,  lCS). 

LoweU:  (Z,.^.C.,  Apr.,'8a),  £.  L.Coolidge,S 
Edw.Ellingwood,LC,  J.Z.  Rogen» 
Willis  Farrington,TC,  W.  S.*  Kelly. 

Lynn:  {StarB.  C,  Nov.  5/79;  L.  C.  C,  and 
BoiCffMB.  C),       Geo.  £.  Cain, 
F.  A.  LindMy,(P),S,  W.E.Sniith,LC,(VP). 

Maiden:  iM.C.C,  July,'84),C.W.  Flandcra, 
Geo.  S.  Harrington,  Fred.  A.  Wilcox. 

yft«afliil«l.  H.  C.  WUmarth. 

MarUehead:  (Af.  B.  C,  May  ai,  '81), 
MarhWdBi.  dub,  cor.  School  and  Pleasant, 
Geo.  Chinn,  lr,  P,    P.  Howard  Shiiley,S. 

Medford:  Richard  Booth,  C, 
Chas.  J.  Holland,  iL,  17  Park, 
Joseph  H.  Wheeler. 

Merrick:  Glen.  C.  Frissell,  o. 

Merrimae:  (If.  B.  C,  July,  '84), 
John  W.  Logan,  C,   H.  C.  Oak,  uc,  xL. 

Milford:  {B.C.,  May,'8o),  C.  H.  Fisher,  lc. 

MUllniry:  KM.  B.  C),  Wm.  E.  Gale,  P, 
C.  F.  Holman,  S,  T,  Arthur  W.  Rice,  L. 

Miller's  Fall!:  C.  E.  Lester. 

Milton:  Arthur  Cunningham. 

Needham:  W.  C.  Freeman,  jr. 

Newton:  {NMontum  C.C.)y  £.  P.  Buniham. 

Northampton:  (AT.  B.  C,  March  i,  '82), 
Mdnsum  House,         (W.  J.  Fuller), 
E.  C.  Davis,  C,         Daniel  Pickard,  IT  P. 

North  Andover:  H.  G.  Johnson. 

Orange:  (a  W.  C,  Sept.,  84), 
O.D.Hapw)od,(S,P),  C.  H.  Shepard,  C, 
W.  E.  Osterhout,  L,  (M.  R.  Winchell). 

Palmer:  Louis  E.  Chandler,  lc. 

Fittiiield:  {Berkshire  Co.  H^Pn), 
L.  L.  Atwood,  %  LC,  C.C.Kennedy,(iL),C, 
C.  F.  Basaett,  K  H.  Kennedy,  P, 

H.  W.  Buckingham,  W.  P.  OdeD, 
Chas.  E.  Churchill,    E.  P.  Stevenaon,VP, 
J.  H.Greenfield,(aL),  J.  M.  Stevenson,  o, 
H.  E.  Henry,  H.  G.  West,  (Q,  T, 

P.  W.  Jones,  (S),       W.  R.  Wilder. 
W.  S.  Kells,  S,    (Oig.asP.AC.,May,V9.) 

Princeton:  WachMseU  House  {Beaman^. 

Beading:  W.  J.  Hall. 

Boxbury:  Arthur  M.  Little,  J.  E.  Savell,  lc. 

Salem:  SaUm  Bicycle  CM,  asa  Essex  St., 
Chas.  H.  Odell,  F.  P.  Symonds,  P, 

A.  J.  Philbrick,  Arthur  N.  Webb. 

Bomerdllei  {S,  C.  C),  Gea  £.  Whitaker. 


Sonth  AUngton  Station: 
F.  V.  Ames,  Joseph  Pettee,  jr. 

South  Boston:  John  B.  Given, 
Geo.  P.  Osbom,         F.  J.  WilliamSp 
Herbert  A.  Thayer,    John  H.  Wright 

Sonthhrldge:  G.  M.  Lovell,  LC,C.M.WdIiL 

South  Framingham:  H.  J.  Metcalf. 

South  Qaxdner:  (Knockabout  IP.  C,  1884), 
Lewis  C.  Travers,LC,  (P),  41  Broadmy. 

South  Hadley  Falls:  F.  B.  Towne. 

South  Scitnate:  Wm.  H.  Fish,  jr.  t 

Spencer:  James  Aldrich.  ** 

Springfield:  (S.  B.  C),  l,  C^j  Library, 
Springfield  Bicycle  Club,  l.  May  6,  tSSi, 
H.  N.  Bowman,         W.  I.  Lyman, 
M.  B.  Breck,  A.  O.  McGarrett,  C, 

Charles  Clark,  C.  H.  McKnight, 

B.  J.  Craig,  W.  C.  Marsh,  T, 
Henry  S.  Grossman,  C.  H.  Miller,  F, 
M.  R.  Grossman,       D.  £.  Miller, 
(Orel  E.  Davies),        Geo.  S.  MUler, 
H.E.  Ducker,LCC,P.,  F.  O.  Moody, 
P.  H.  Dunbar,  C  W.  Parks, 

E.  T.  Dyotte,  F.  £.  Ripley, 

Fred.  E.  Eldred,  aL,  Everett  E.  Sawtell, 
Will  Eldred,  W.  H.  Selvey,  VP, 

(A.L.Fenne88y,S,T),  Eqgene  L.  Smith, 
J.  H.  Fennessy,  jr.,  A.  L.  Spooner, 
Chaa.  A.  Fiak,  (1^,    W.  C.  Stone, 

C.  S.  Fiske,  A.  B.  Wassung, 

A.  H.  R.  Foss,  B,     (Chas.  P.  Waatong), 
J.  H.  Foulds,  jr.,  F,  C.  J.  Wetxcl. 
M.  D.  Gfflett,*  F.  W.  Westervek, 

C.  R.  Haradon,         C.  £.Whipple,(Q,LC, 
George  M.  Hendee,  O.  N.  Whipple, 
(CT.Higginbotham),  Robt.  D.  White, 
C.  W.  Hutchins,        Fred  G.  Wight. 
W.  H.  Jordan,  (VP),  E.  M.  WUkins, 
San{ordLawton,LR,S,  H.  J.  Winans,  aL, 
'     E.  F.  Leonard,  iL,    W.  N.  Winans,  (C), 
G.  H.  Lucas,  L.  £.  Zochtmann. 

These  54  names  are  outnumbered  by  only 
one  dub-representation  upon  my  list ;  and,  as 
ao  non-dub  subscribers  are  named  below,  the 
total  representation  of   Springfield  is  modi 
larger  than  that  of  any  other  town  having 
35,000  people,  and  is  only  exceeded  by  a  few 
of  the  great  dties. 
John  S.  Bagg,iro,       A.  D.  Copdand, 
Fred  J.  Bnuiley,        W.  M.  Corthdl, 
Chris.  F.  Burrowes,    Frank  H.  Fuller,  o, 
Thos.  W.  Cobuni.      J.  D.  Gill,<»  o, 
S.  W.  Coe,  C.  H.  Ginn, 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


769 


S.  B.  Hamill,  Geo.  S.  Payne, 

A.  F.  JenningSi**  o,  W.  D.  RemiDgton, 
W.  G.  Landes,  F.  Searle,|)  o, 

G.  E.  Mansfield,         £.  R.  Stickney, 
M.  Bradley  Co.,*»      F.  A.  Wakefield. 

Stoneham:  (^.^.C./8i),  F.  H.  Me8ser,(S). 

Taunton:  (7*.  B.  c'\ 
Wm.  H.  Pendleton,  Wm.  C.  Williams,  C. 

Templeton:  Chas.  H.  Lane. 

Vineyard  Haven:  S.  F.  HarTinian.t 

Wakefield:  iJV.  B,  C,  July,  '83), 
Geo.  P.  Abora,  C,    Frank  H.  Burrill,  (C), 
E.D.Albee,LC,(S-T),  Will  E.  Eaton,  (VP), 

Waltham:  Wm.  Shakespeare,*  O.E.  Davies. 

Wayland:  Chas.  C.  Parkyn. 

Welleiley  Hills:  Geo.  R.  White. 

Westboro:  (^.^.C.,Apr.'82),ffVx/*i;  HoUl, 
Henry  L.  Chase,        Henry  D.  Stone, 
H.  Scudder  Drake,ir  F.  O.  Swallow,  lc  % 

Westfleld:  iWoronoco  n^Fn,  Aug.  14,  '84), 
J.  A.  Lakin  &  Co.,«*  Arthur  E.  White,  ^ 

West  Springlfleld:  W,  S.  Terwn  Library^ 
Harvey  D.  Bagg,  o,  Maurice  Connell,  o, 
Winthrop  S.  Bagg,    W.  H.  Selvey, 
Wm.  H.  BuU,  o,        Robert  D.  White, 
Richard W.Cartter,o,  Corey  Wood. 

Weymouth:  {IV.  B.  C,  May  4,  »83), 
B.W.  Burrell,(S),  P,  B.  F.  Johnson,  lc. 

Whitinsville:  W.  W.  Dudley,  O.  L.  Owen. 

WHliamstown:   MdmionHouu, 

Wolmm:  J.  E.  Roberts. 

Worcester:  {W.B.C.^  consoIid*d  with  Molus 
W^Pn^  Nov.  10,  '82;  incorp.,  July,  *8s), 
Frt€  PtMic  Lihratyt  Bay  State  House^ 
{Walter  H.  Adams,    Lincoln  Holland,*  T, 
Carl  Bullock,  F.  P.  Kendall,  lr,lT,P, 

H.  W.  Carter,  David  Manning,  |o, 

A.  H.  Hammar,       Chas.  F.  Snow, 
A.  E.  Hartshorn,     W.  K.  Stebbins, 
F.  E.  Higgins,         Homer  J.  Whiting, 
Hill  &  Tolman,**    H.  M.  Wood. 
RHODE  ISLAND. 

Bast  Ghreenwioh:  S.  H.  Day.t 

PawtUOket:(/'.^.C.),L,  Fred  Binford,  (C), 
J.  A.  Chase,ir  lcx:,  P,  B.  W.  Gardner. 

Providence:  {P,  B.  C,  July  7,  *79), 
Providtnee  B.  C,     R.  G.  Gamwell,  n, 
W.  P.  Anthony,  tc,  J.  B.  Hamilton,  In, 
F.  B.  Armington,xL,  F.  H.  Hayward, 
A.G.Carpenter,TCC,P,J.  W.  McAuslan,  F, 
E.  C.  Danforth,  (Q,  V.  W.  Mason,  jr., 
S.  C.  De  Munn,        H.  P.  Morgan, 
E.  G.  Fanner,  jr.,      H.L.Perkins,(S),  VP. 
40 


Warren:  Louis  A.  Pope,  t 
Westerly:  J.  Howard  Moigan.  Y 

CONNECTICUT. 
Ansonla:  Louis  F.  Auschuu, 

John  C.  Carl,  Fred.  M.  Drew. 

Birmingham;  {Deriy  W.  C), 

Basseit  House,  by  Wm.  Kellogg,  o, 

E.  B.  Gager,  Willie  E.  Plumb,  jr., 
(H.  W.  Gilbert),         Will  G.  Taylor, 
Lester  E.  Hickok,      E.  N.  ToUes, 
Charles  P.  Hubbard,  J.  H.  Tomlinson. 

Branford:  Thomas  E.  Crouch,  lc 

Bridgeport:  {Pequonnock  W'.CJuly  i5,*8o), 
Public  Library t         Geo.  H.  Johnson,  P, 
Fred.  C.  Burroughs,  C.  W.  Spooner,  (lr), 
Wm.  F,  Healy,(Lc),  A.  N.  Stanton,  (C). 

Bristol:  M.  L.  Tiffany. 

Cheshire:  (C.  W.  C,  March  27,  '85), 
Wallace  Hmtu,  by  H.  E.  Howe. 

Danbixry:  {Pahquhque  B.  C,  1883,  merged 
in  the  Danbttry  W.  C,  Mar.  5,  »8s), 
L.  L.  Hubbell,LR,(u:),  S-T. ,  J.  G.  Irving,  u:,C. 

Derby:  (Z?«^C),M.  E.  Qarke,  H.W.Gilbert. 

East  Berlin:  W.  W.  MUdrum,  lc 

East  Windsor  Hill:  C.  J.  Rockwell. 

Greenwich:  Lenox  Home. 

Hartford:  {Connecticut  «^. C.,Oct.  ao,'79),  L, 
MerrilTs  Restaurant fi^o.  E.  Lefiingwell, 

F.  E.  Belden,  S-T,  Geo.  E.  Marsh, 
G.H.Burt,(LT),  LC,    D.  J.  Post, 

G.  H.  Day,  (lr),*»    T.Sedg'ck  Steele,(P), 
John  W.  Gray,  S.  Terry,tP,  lr,VP,(lT), 
C.  G.  Huntington,  lcc,  (aL),  A.  J.  Welles. 
C.  A.  Kellogg,  Ls,  Robt.  F.  Way,  (lc),  xL. 

The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Thomas  Glover,         Wm.  A.  Lorenz, 
John  B.  Griggs,         J.  B.  Spencer, 
JohnM.Holcombe,o,  Robert  Thome, 
W.  H.  Honiss,  Weed  S.  M.  Co.,»« 

Edward  S.  House,    H.  W.  Whitehouse. 

Lime  Bock:  C.  D.  Knox. 

Meriden:  {M.  W,  C,  May  17,  »83), 
The  Winthrop,  by  G.  H.  Bowker, 
E.  K.  Bradley,  H.  G.  Miller,  S, 

J.  E.  Brainard,  T,    Richmond  P.  Paine, 
Louis  Casper,  Will  W.  Parker,  F, 

William  Collins,  C,    Frank  E.  Penney,  k, 
James  F.  Gill,  B.  F.  Pomeroy, 

J.  M.  Harmon,  (S),  Reuben  Rice, 
C.  L.  Lyon,  (P),        T.  S.  Rust,  D  (C),  P. 

Middletown:  MiddUtomn  W.  C,  May,  *84. 
(S.  H.  Kirkpatrick),   (Elmer  I.  Thomas), 
Chas.  S.  Perry,  H.  C.  Ward,  P. 


770 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


New  Brttaln:  (A^.  B,1V.  C,  Feb.  15,  •«4). 
HoUl  Biuuit,  E.  P.  Goodrich,  %  n, 

H.  B. Arnold,(S),  aL,  C.C.RoMberg,  (C),P, 
W.  S.  Case,  (iL),        F.  SUter,  (P),  iL, 
A.  F.  Corbin,  (aL),     E.  H.  Taylor. 

NewHftyen:  {N.  H.  B.  C,  Jan.  a4,  *8o). 
Yak  CoU.  Library,    Linonian  Library, 
Jamca  B.  Brand,         LeRoy  J.  Kirkham, 
M.  F.  Canjpbcll,        Wm.  L.  Peck,  aL, 
H.  A.  Chidsey,  J.  S.  Pierrepont, 

W.  M.  Frisbie,  r,L«,  Sam  F.  Pundcraon, 
Samuel  G.  Ilusted,     F.  S.  Slanter, 

F.  A.  Jackson,  tc,     W.  H.  Thomas,  (ls), 

G.  H.  Jennings,         M.  F.  Tyler,  %  (P), 
J.W.  Jewett,irCT),aL,  John  H.  Whiting.  X 

The  following  are  not  dub  members: 
Wyllys  Atwater,  o,     G.  P.  MacGowan, 
Henry  A.  Beers,  o,     (Gea  D.  Miller,  o), 
F.  B.  Dexter,  o,  E.  L.  Parmelee, 

C.  T.  DriscoU,  to,      T.  H.  Russell,  X 
Thomas  Hooker,  o,    Robert  A.  Smith,* 
W.  E.  Martin,  W.  K.  Townscnd,to, 

Ed,  P.  Merwin,  jr.,  J.  M.  Trowbridge, 
E.  O.  Jeralds,  Eli  Whitney,  jr.,  o. 

New  MUford:  {Conutia  H^.  C), 
Joe  F.  Farrally,  S,     Geotge  T.  Soule,  C. 

New  Preston:  Alexander  MitchelL 

Noank:  Robert  Palmer,  jr. 

Norwieh:  {li.  London  Co.f^Tn,  Jun.,'84), 
H.  Hubbell,  John  M.  Thayer,  Xo. 

PlantSViUe:  A.  B.  A.  Walkley. 

Biverton:  Frank  L.  Stephens. 

Bockvllle:  {R.  B.  C,  Oct.  33,  '84), 
Frank  M.  Adams,      W.  E.  Payne,  lr, 
Frank  H.  Brown,       Edw.  R.  Pratt,  lc,S, 
A.  N.  Gaonette,         J.  C.  Whittlesey, 
Herbert  Holmes,        James  Wilson,  jr. 

SUmford:  (5*.  ^.  C,  Jan.  10,  '84), 
Stamford  HoHM,  L,   Harry  W.  Hurlbutt, 
D$pot  Restaurant,  l,  W.A.Hurlbutt,LR,P, 
W.L.Baldwin,LC,S-T,Nelson  Jessup, 
Gilbert  S.  Benedict,    Wilbur  E.  Lewis, 
C.  F.  Burley,II  H.  E.  Mackee,  VP, 

Thos.  Cummings,  Walter  Michels,  C, 
Frank  E.  DeCamp,  Arthur  Munson,  n, 
C.  W.  Hendrie,  G.  F.  Rockwell, 

R.  H.  Home,  J.  F.  Wardwell, 

Chas.  L.  Hoyt,  Henry  J.  Warren. 

Snffleld:  Leroy  H.  Sikes,  lc 

Thonuston: 
C.  T.  Higginbotham,  H.  H.  Teames. 

▼emon  Depot:  Geo.  B.  Thayer,  lc 

WftteAury:  {W.  W.  C,  April,  »8i). 


Holfis  B.Bagg,(P),N,  Howard Curtk, 
RolUn  R.Btrd,  iL,     N.  C  Oviatt,  S-T. 
Weet  AneonU:  Wm.  G.  Brown. 
WiUimentie:  Horace  A.  Adams,  u:, 
G.  W.  Holman,  t       Fred  S.  I^ge. 
Yantle:  Winalow  F.  Williams,  |UL« 

NEW  YORK. 
AlbUlj:  {A.  B.  C,  Aug.  as,  '80), 
J.G.Burch,jr,LB,(S)C,H.  Gallien,  S-T,  ui, 
J.  L.  Qough,  N,         Robert  A.  Hamilton, 
J.  E.  Crane,  jr.,  A.  L.  Jiadaoai, 

S.D.M.Goodwin,to,  F.  MuomIL 
Athens:  N.  G.  Allen,  PhUip  Graii  t 
Aulram:  (yl.AC.,June,*8a),E.F.Futer,UL 
BtttoTiA:  {B.B.C.,  June  i5,»83),E.E.Pein<m. 
Binghsmton:  {B.  B.  C,  June,  '82), 

G.Jones,  (lc),  lr,C,  C.E.rilchenerXC,P).* 
Brighton:  Arthur  C.  Hills. 
Brooklyn:  {B.  B.  C,  June  ai,  '79), 

Brooklyn  Pnblie  Library,  Montague  sL, 
.  Wm.  Adams,  Wm.  F.  GuUen,  (PX 

George  Bancroft, VP,  Frank  B.  James, 
A.  B.  Barkman,  lc,   W.  H.  Meeteer, 
H.  R.  Elliott,  C,         Elmer  Skinner. 
The  rooms  of   the  Brooklyn  B.    C,   to 
which  the  above   8  belong,  are  at  iia  Sl 
Felix  St.      The  following  6  are  members  of 
the  Heights  Wheelmen,  159  Montague  sL 
The  6  representatives  of  the  Bedford  C.  C. 
stand  next ;  then  the  44  of  the  Kings  County 
Wn*n;    then  the  15  of   the    Long   Island 
Wn*n;  and  finally  the  ai  unattached.    (See 
p.  97  for  further  details;  also,  N.Y.  Oxy  list.) 
T.  G.  (London,  (C),  64  Livingston  St., 
Alex.  R.  Dunnell,  C,  159  Montague  st, 
F.  L.  Dunnell,  S,  166  Joralemon  st, 
John  C.  Ring,  13a  Montague  St., 
R.  L.  Milhau,  291  Henry  st., 
C.  V.  Wintringhara,  73  Willow  st. 
Bedford  C.  C,  729  Bedford  avenue, 
Geo.  Babcock,  VP,    S.  Henderson,  (P), 
E.  A.  Bradford,  P,     (Hias.M.RichardsXS) 
R.  N.  Chichester,  C,  J.  B.  Wright,  T  (T). 
Kings  Co.  IVkeelmen ,i.,i$<i  Oymer  st.,E.D., 
(org.,  Mar.  17,  *8i ;  incorp.,  May  7,  '84), 
W.  L  Amerman,  a4o  Lafayette  av., 
E.  K.  Austin,(LR), i.s,(S, B),  593 Will Tiby  av. , 
W.  H.  Austin,  (B),  a68  S.  Fourth  st., 
(F.  G.  F.  Barlow,  (T),  170  Lee  av.), 
W.  D.  Bloodgood,  loi  Wilson  St., 
L  S.  Bowdish,  100  Psitchen  av., 
M.  L.  Bridgman,  lr,  iL,  ata  Adelphi  St., 
Chas.  R.  Brown,  aja  Powcfs  at.. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


n^ 


(Geo.  T.  Brown,  (P),  m  Reid  av-X 

(Geo.  W.  Brown,  195  Penn  st.)» 

£.  W.  Candidus,  228  S.  Ninth  St., 

(Charles  Cluth,  400  Grand  St.), 

Arthur  N.  Comes,  106  Hancock  St., 

Thos.  C.  Crichton,  70  S.  Sixth  st, 

F.H.Douglas,  (S,  sub  C),  25  Bedford  av., 

Frank  N.  Fenstermaker,  8x  S.  Ninth  St., 

Ed.  F.  Fisk,  (xL),  96  Lee  av., 

August  Grosch,  H  223  Grand  St.. 

H.  J.  Hall,  jr.,  437  Classon  av., 

Th/«.  J.  Hall,  jr.,  707 J  Myrtle  av., 

TJos.  B.  Hegeman,  VP,  139  Sumner  av., 

Robt.  F.  Hibson,  P,  lr,  64  S.  Tenth  St., 

£ph.  Johnson,  (sub  C),  156  Bedford  av., 

Robert  J.  Knox,  F,  274  S.  5th  St., 

Herbert  £.  Locke,  44  S.  Ninth  st, 

J.  H.  Long,  (F),  356  Kosciusko  st, 

A.  C.  D.  Loucks,  S,  181  McDonough  st, 

F.  W.  Loucks,  181  McDonough  st, 

William  Lowey,  72  Cumberland  St., 

Chas.  McDougall,  67  Leeav., 

F.  H.  Meeker,  844  Bushwick  av., 

J.  D.  Miller,  2L,  218  Ross  st, 

R.  W.  Muns,  121  McDonough  st., 

Edward  Pettus,  C,  lc,  49  S.  Tenth  St., 

Chas.  Schwalbach,*  T,  lr,  lai  Penn  st, 

R  S.  Seibert,  206  Penn  st, 

(Frank  J.  Smith,  (P,  C),  195  Division  av.), 

J.  M.  Soriano,  jr.,  (T),  246  Carlton  av., 

(A.  Warren  Strong,  2L,  171  Fourth  St.), 

H.  H.  Stults,  1234  Fulton  St., 

E.  Valentine,  (Mt.  Vernon,  N.  Y.), 

H.  Watson,  103  Divi.sion  av., 

L,  P.  Weber,  36  Bedford  av., 

(A.  D.  Wilder,  81  S.  Ninth  St.), 

Ramon  V.  Williams,  35  Cambridge  Place. 

L.  I.  JV^Pn,  cor.  Flatbush  av.  and  Ninth  av. , 
(org.  Nov.  23,*82),  G.W.  Mabie,  (F),VP, 
S.W.  Baldwin,  (S^T,  D.  C.  McEwen,  2L, 
Henry  H.  Bell,  jr.,     E.  W.  Mcrcereau, 
W.  J.  Brown,  S.  H.  Monell, 

Edw.  A.  Caner,  (lr),  W.  W.  Share,  P, 
H.  F.  Frasse,  C.  T.  Wessels, 

Arthur  W.  Guy,  (C),  E.  T.  Wessels, 
James  Huggins,  G.  B.  Winslow,  lr. 

The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Wm.  E.  Atwater,  276  Madison  St., 
Alex.  Cameron,  $0,  (6j  Wall  st.,  N.  Y.), 
S.  L.  Cromwell,  188  Columbia  Heights, 
A.  M.  Cunningham,  to,  189  Montague  St., 
J.  S.  Graham,  jr.,  435  Gasson  av., 
Stansbury  Hager,  (Box  532,  N.  Y.  P.  O.), 


i 


J.  M.  Harris,  7  Halsey  St., 
Chas.  A.  Horn,  Brooklyn  Library, 
H.  S.  Jaffray,  194  Carroll  st., 
H.  C.  Jones,  39  Quincy  st, 
Edwin  T.  Lake,  229  Hamilton  av., 
Wm.  N..  Milner, 

Jas.  J.  Ormsbce,  183  Joralemon  st., 
Chas.  F.  Pray,  93  Quincy  st, 
W.  L.  Scoville,  90  Amity  st., 
H.  Gardner  Sibell,  217  Franklin  av., 
Edw.  C.  Smith,  221  Washington  av., 
R.  W.  Steves,  448  Van  Buren  st., 
E.  S.  Sutton,  134  Willoughbyav., 
M.  R.  Winchell,  139  Maple  av., 
C.  C.  Wool  worth,  jr.,  582  Washington  av. 
BuffalO:(^.AC.,  Feb.'79),L,  Gmesee  House, 
Ttfi  House,  465  Main  st, 
G.  F.  H.  Bart]ett,1[  323  Delaware  av.. 
E.  N.  Bowcn,»37i  Pennsylvania  st. 
Will  S.  Bull,*  LR,  Tc,  587  Main  st., 
Harry  E.  Choate,  75  W.  Tupper  st, 
C.  P.  Churchill,  jr., 
H.  Cosack,  jr.,  202  Qinton  st, 
Samuel  J.  Curtis,  204  Seneca  st, 
J.  E.  Danielson,  P,  754  Main  st, 
'V.  E.  Donaldson,  973  Delaware  av., 
Frank  E.  Drullard,(2L),  tc,82  Hodge  av., 
Julius  J.  Ehrlich,  688  Elliott  st, 
.    J.  F.  Foster,  68  Main  st., 

C.  B.  Graves,  200  N.  Division  st, 
H.  Hartley  Hayford,  235  Conicut  st., 
A.  E.  Hoddick,  222  Eagle  st, 
James  B.  Isham,*  14  £.  Seneca  St., 
A.  G.  Mang,  212  Main  st., 
Ralph  H.  Palmer,  163  College  st, 
Fred  W.  Parsons,  490  Delaware  av., 
Wm.  C    Peters, 
John  A.  Pferd,  150  West  av., 
W.  E.  Plummcr,  jr.,  41  Lloyd  st, 
Fred.  J.  Shepard,  Courier  office, 
Henry  A.  Stahl,  73  W.  Huron  st., 
A.  H.  Stephenson,  F,  254  Fifteenth  st, 
Edgar  A.  Taylor,  22  White  Building. 
The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Wilson  S.  Bissell,  $0,  276  Main  st, 
Bull  &  Bowen,**  587-589  Main  st, 
Frank  S.  Buell,o,  192  Niagara  st, 
L.  W.  Gay,  184  Franklin  st, 
W.  J.  H.  Nourse,  aa  West  Eagle  st, 
Ulbrich  &  Kingsley,**  365  Main  st 
Burke:  Elmer  A.  Day. 
Caldwell  (Lake  Oeoige): 
Lake  House,  by  F.  G.  Tucker. 


772 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


CanuuUlglUt:  (C  B.  C,  June,  '8i), 
A.G.ColeinaD,||LK,TCC,  Geo.  W.  Hamlin, 
A.  W.  Crittenden,  lc,    Chester  C.  Hayes, 
Arthur  S.  Hamlin,  n,     C.  %  Mitchell.^ 

CASSftdaga:  L.  S.  Deiendorf. 

Casenovia:  (C.  B.  Tour,  C,  May  to,  '8a), 
Stanion  Houu,  C.  M.  Knowlton,  C,  - 

C.  C.  Clarke,  Chas.  A.  Mann,  o, 

Wm.  B.  Curtis,(T),    Chas.  W.  OdeU, 
P.  £.  Denslow,  n,      J.  £.  Salsbury,  ^ 
SivdreDorion,  P,«^(Jas.  Sturtevant), 
Thos.  J.  Dwyer,  n,     W.  Thomas,  B, 
W.  A.  Emerick,  n,      W.  W.  Watkins,  m. 
A.  A.  Johnson,  W.  S.  Webber. 

Chatham:  Startwix/iai/XC.C.C., Jul  3,'84), 
Wm.  Ditterding,         Chas.  £.  Stewart, 
H.  I.  Fish,  Samuel  Swift, 

Geo.  E.  Patton,**  S,  A.  E.  Tracy. 

CUnton:  Chas.  A.  Borst,  lc* 

Cincixmatas:  Henry  C.  Higgins. 

Cohoes:  (C.  B.  C,  Nov.  i,  '84), 
L.  Boudrias,  )r.,tl        H.  S.  Kavanaugh, 
F.  J.  Hiller,  P.  H.  Spi]lane.§ 

ColdSpringHarbor,L.L  :H.  G.  De  Forest,  to. 

Coming:  (C.  B.  C),  S.  S.  Denton,  S,  lc, 
W.  J.  Heermans,       Wm.  H.  Sayles, 
H.  H.  Kendall,  P,     H.P.Sinclaire,  jr.,  C. 

Cornwall:  M.  W.  Couser,  Reeve  Ketcham. 

Comwall-on-Hudson:  E/mer  House, 

Cortland:  H.  P.  Gray. 

Croton  Falls:  Edwin  H.  Abrams. 

Daoi'ville:  C.  Ross  Brown. 

Dayton:  James  E.  Bixby,  lc 

Dunkirk:  {B.  C),  Geo.  £.  Biackham,  ITlk. 

Sllington:  Geo.  E.  Hamaa,  lc. 

Slmira:  (E.B.C.),  Lou. H.Brown,  P,  lt, 
H.  S.  Kidder,C,(LR),  Allen  D.  Steele. 

Florida:  R.  £.  Campbell,t 

Flushing,  L.  I. :  {Mercury  fV.  C. ,  Apr.  10,  '84), 
A.  P.  Cobb,  LC,  C,     A.  Foster  King,  ||P, 
(M.  F.  Covert,  S-T),  Townsend  Scudder. 

Fordham:  Wm.  B.  Krug. 

Fredonia:  F.  H.  Harrison. 

Friendship:  {AUegany  Co.  ^f^/*«,June,'83), 
M.BourdonCottrell,YA.  C.  Latta, 
Latta  Brothers,  ^      £.  G.  Latta. 

Garrison's: 
HigUand  House^  byG.  F.  Garrison. 

Geneva:  F.  Albert  Herendem. 

Gerry:  C.  £.  Gates,  "PJamestmun  B.  C. 

Glens  Falls :  Rockwell  House, hy  C.  L.  Rockl, 
N.  R.  Gourley,  S.  R.  Stoddard.** 

Greenwich:  {p. B.C.),  Chas.  Griffin,  C. 


Harlem:  {H.  ff^Pn,  104  W.  is4th  st), 
Don  Sweeney* sSalooUy  500  £.  133d  St., 
(Edgar  K.  Bourne),    Fred  W.  Styles, 
Wm.  H.  Degraaf,  P,  Frank  N.  Lord, 
C.  H.  Diamond,         Ed.  C.Parker,  (C),T. 
See  fourth  list  of  New  York  City  for  fuU 
addresses  of  the  above,  and  for  20  later  sub- 
scribers from  the  same  club.    The  following 
Harlem  subscribers  are  not  members  of  it: 
Geo.  O.  Beach,  Walter  Klots, 

J.  G.  D.  Burnett,        Frank  C.  Moore, 

E.  V.  Conner,  J.  FitzGcrald. 
Highland  Mills:  Highland  MiUs  Hotel. 
Hudson:  (H B.C.,  Jn.  i,*8a).  Worth  House, 

H .  R.  Bryan ,  LC,Tc,C,*Wm.  F.  Rossman ,  jr. 
Ithaca:  {Com.  Univ.  B.  C),  J.  H.  Day,  jr., 

L.  J.  E.  J.  Lorber,(C),  P.  B.  Roberts. 
Jamaica:  Perdval  J.  Bemhard, 

Ben].  W.  Doughty, LC,  Chas.  R.  Gallie. 
Jamestown:  (/.  B.  C,  Oct.  4»  '84)> 

Sherman  House,        £.  R.  Demphrey,  lc, 

F.  A.  Clapsadel,         C.  A.  Price,  T. 
Katonah:  W.  S.  Winans.t 
Kinderhook:  /Cinderh'hHotel,hyW.BT'd!i*y, 

James  B.  Btst,{C,Amherst  CoU.B.C.  1884X 
Lake  Gtoorge:  Lake  House,  by  F.G.Tucker. 
Leonardsville:  {(/nadaiayal.B.C., Jn,*^), 

C.  L.  CrandaU,  T,  L.  B.  Wheeler,  P,  C, 
LeBoy:  {L,  B.  C),  W.  C.  Boak,  P. 

Little  Falls:  A.  J.  Benedict, 

D.  W.  Ingalls,  Geo.  L.  Smith. 
Lockport:  {Lock  City  H^Pn,  May,  '84), 

W.  L.  Beck,  B.  F.  Jackson,  C. 

Lyons:  G.H.Cramer,*  C.  R.  Harrington,LC 
Madison:  James  Sturtevant. 
Mariner's  Harbor,  S.L:  W.  M.  Bnunan. 
Middletown:  {M.  B,  C,  Aug.  15,  '82), 

Wm.  Qemsen,  C  H.  Foster, 

C.  S.  Dusenberry,  H.  C.  Ogden,  lc,  C* 
MtVemon:  {Mt.  V.  B.  C,  Aug.  8,  '81), 

A.E.Fauquier,(P,LR),  Chas.  £.  Nichols, 
Philip  H.  Lucas,  S,    E.  Valentine. 
Newhurgh:  (-Y.  B.  C),  t,  U.  States  Hotel, 
A.  J.  Barton,  L.Courtlandt  Jagger, 

D.  H.  Bower,  J.  T.  Joslin,  §••  tc, 
Chas.  E.  Corwin,       Joel  A,  Joslin,} 
Thos.  T.  Havfland,    L.W.Y.McCro«keryt 
Frank  Hollister,         J.  £.  Wilson. 

New  Bochelle:  Chas.  F.  Canedy.t 

New  York  City:  (A^.  K  B.  C,  Dec.  i8,'7fX 

Grand  Union  Hotel,  L,  4th  av.  at  43d  St., 
H,  Y.  BicycU  Club,  l,  30a  W.  58th  St., 

Edwin  W.  Adams,  uc,  (S),  114  Wall  sL, 


DIRECTORY  Of  WHEELMEN. 


Howard  ConUiog,  (Q,  17  E.  i<Hh  it., 
ClaikuD  Cowl,  411  Fioduce  Eidunge, 
Geor^  Darnell,  140  Nassau  iL, 
(Frank  E.  DavidsoDi  610  LeungtoD  a¥.), 
Eitward  L.  Gridley,  )>g  W.  aUfa  it. 
Smith  A.  Harriman,  46  W.  16th  u., 
R.  R.  Hardock,  T,  B)  Chambcnit., 
Edw.  F.  HUl,  ui,  (ra).  (Peekskill,  N.Y.), 
HiDiy  E.  Janci,  Brudvnr  al  ]«Ih  «., 
J.  OiwaM  JiiDcnii,  (iL),  iL,  113  WaUu., 
F.W.  Kitchmg.MRBa<len., 
(ThM.  W.  Knoi,  Lolw  Qub), 
H.  H.  Meyer,  (T),  ]S  Sichaogc  Place, 
J.C.  MolI.iigWuicaU., 
Cbarln  Power,  jii  Pcoduce  Exchange, 
Klngnun  Putium,t(S,LC5),  (4  Wall  II., 
H.  S-Rann,  ijWallit, 
Giianl  Romaioe,  84  BeaTCr  u., 
J.  B,  Roy,  <iL),  C,  111  ProdDce  Eidunfe, 
E.  J,  Shiiver,  S,  N.  V.  Metal  Exchange, 
Ron  W.  Weir,  105  Fnml  it, 
W,  A.  Whllli^,  Grand  Central  Haul, 
Citimi  Bi.Ct-a.  (June  i,'8i),  jiSW.&ah  11., 
Cliai  K.  AlJ=y(LCS),  jj  W.  13d  «., 
H.  G.  Bamaid.faintoD  Place, 
W.  G.  Bateg.  154  Maduon  av., 
N.M.Beckwiih,ll[C,icc,iJ>),ji  W.  j;ih  it., 

VP,L«[C,Jiine,'8i,loMarch,'8s;  lP, 

May,  '8],  10  May,  '86], 
Chai.  M.  Benedict,  94  Beekmin  >!., 
G.  R.  Bidwe11,(Lii),  lcc,  "315  W.  j8th  it., 
Heniy  BlakK,  7  Beekman  M., 
W.  M,  Book,  P.  0.60111147, 
Fred  G.  Banme,  (VP),  is  W,  ijd  it., 
Chat.  F.  Boulon,  ii}  E.  6ii(fa  a,, 
Irving  P.  Boyd,  Prndnce  Ei.  Building, 
T.  McKcs  Brown,  (P),  116  W.  4jth  «., 
Wm.  A.  Bryant,  (iL),  ii  Maiden  Lane, 
nioa  League  Qub, 


J.CCa, 


J.  T.Fcanci<>,ioE.  4in«., 
1  Wm.  C.  Fra.ec,  T,  156  Broadwi 
G.  Benedict  Friibie,  4}  Soutk  it 
J.  H.  CiffiD,  jr.,  156  Broadway, 
Jamei  G.  Gulick,  371  W.  83d  a. 
John  C.  Gulick,  Jui,  P,  131  Na 
Hairy  J.  Hal],ir.,  6.  W.  j6lh  1 
Frank  L.  Handlen,  Produce  Ex 
E.  A.  Hoffman,  jr.,  B,  4.6  W.  1 
W.  E.  Howell,  110  Broadway, 
Geo.  Manin  Husi,  iiSj  Broad w 
FredJenkin.,(i.CS),45  V" 
-    "  4  Warrtn 


jSih  11 


J.  Q.  A.  John* 


4Warr 


.  Aienue  Hotel, 
W.  B.  Krug,  No.  River  Savingi  Bank, 
L.E.  Lefferl^  6  W.  jjd  «., 
Wm.  D.  Leonard,  51  NasHu  it., 

W.  H.  McCormack,  F,  336  W.  5id  it, 
J.  B.  Marline,  Naval  oOce, 
EUioti  Maun,**  ii  Wairen  it., 
Wm.  Allen  Miller,  805  Broadway, 

E.  A.  Monjion,  jr.,  893  Broadway, 
Chai.  E.  Nicholi,  (Mt.  Vernon,  N.  V.) 
John  Nightingale,  sas  W.  8]d  et, 

Al(.  E.  Piillard,  i8o  Bnadway, 
Geo.  A.  Paillard,  680  Broadway, 
Arthur  W.  Feiegn,  iiB-ijo  Fulum  it. , 
Frank  J.  Pool,  Tc,  (T),  i  Broad  it. , 
Harwood  R.  Pool,  iL,  Produce  Eichan 

F.  Ainlin  Roy.p  iSj  W.  jjd  it., 
M.  Schichtel,  jr.,  IS3  W.  i6Ih  «., 
Jamei  Kmpton,  416  W.  sjth  M., 
S.  W.  Slmpeon,  416W.  ijthu., 
A,  P.  Smith,  TrUiatr  O&a, 

T.C.  Smith,  (T,S),  1  L,LC,  4°  Warren  > 
T.  C.  SinltDD,  310W.  83d  iL, 
Chai.  F,  TerhuDC,*  89  Liberty  u., 
A.  B.  Terry,  148  W,  )4th  >t,, 
Fred  C,  Thomii,  iB,  16  E.  4111  >t., 
Wm,  Foid  Upton,  I  S9  Wall  M., 
tt  A.  WeUi,  1067  Madl»ii  av., 
.  Whitcude,  TioE.  i6ih«., 
T.  Wilwn,  P.  O.  Boa  5JJ, 
iS.  Wood,  1  3c|Naauuat., 
.  B.  Wood,1  UoHn  League  Cub, 
[.  Yuengling,  iiSlhu.,  at  lothav., 
K.  Bradfonl),       <M.  E.  Gram), 
I.  Dobbini),        (Edwin  Oliver), 
h  F.  Joy,  Anhut  E.  Paiiiwii 


774 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Albert  A.  Pope,  F.  Alcott  Pratt, 

Edward  W.  Pope,      H.  W.  WiUiams. 
The  four  in  parenthesis  resigned  from  the 
club  after  subscribing,  and  the  six  next  name^ 
subscribed  from  the  Mass.  B.  C,  though  as- 
sociate members  of  this  one  also.    Another 
such  is  Chas.   H.  Potter,  of  Cleveland;  so 
that  the  total  representation  of  the  Citizens 
^ '  C.  is  86,  or  by  far  the  largest  on  my  list. 
IxioH  Bi.  CIm6,  (Mar.x,'8a),  3SiW.59th  St., 
W.  A.  Anderson,  i8  W.  9th  St., 
Frank  A.  Egan,  (lr,P),  351  W.  59th  St., 
Thos.  Chalmers,  25  W.  17th  St., 
C.  M.  Everett,  P.  O.  Box  452, 
P.  M.  Harris,  (iL),  351  W.  Mth  St., 
W.  C.  Herring,  342  W.  58th  si., 
Rudolph  G.  Leypoldt,  S,  964  Sixth  av^ 
O.  L.  Moses,  Cor.  S,  122  E.  4ist  St., 
W.  G.  Newman,  Niblo's  Garden, 
M.  G.  PaoH,  (VP),  C,  25  E.  74th  st 
G.  B.  Pearson ,( i  L),  HomerLee B'kN oteCo. , 
Will  R.  Pitman,  (C),  351 W.  59th  sL, ' 
C.  C.  Reed,  jr.,  47  W.  9th  St., 
Fred  C.  Ringer,  112  E.  22d  st, 
G.  C.  SafFer,  (2L),  318  E.  23d  st., 
Ben  G.  Sanford,  (S,  ls),  P.  O.  Box  2423, 
Francis  Thayer,  353  W.  22d  St., 
Walter  H.  P.  Vesey,  31  Nassau  St., 
Chas.  C.  Whedon,  85  E.  53d  st. 
HarUm  ;f^r«,(Nov.,'82),  104  W.  i24thst., 

F.  L.  Bingham,  409  E.  143d  st. , 
(Edgar  K.  Bourne,  309  E.  124th  St.), 
H.  D.  Cochrane,  B,  2086  Madison  av., 

G.  S.  Curtis,  157  W.  130th  st., 

Wm.  H.  Degraaf,  47-49  W.  14th  st., 
C.  Herbert  Diamond,  102  Franklin  St., 
Wm.  Dutcher,  VP,  231  W.  128th  st., 
W.  D.  Edwards,  C,  144th  st.,  at  4th  av., 
E.  J.  Halstead,  iL,  705  Sixth  av., 
Geo.  A.  Hill,  149  E.  127th  st., 
P.  S.  Jones,  10  E.  t26th  st., 
A.  A.  Knowles,  166  W.  130th  St., 
Geo.  Lane,  jr.,  102  W.  130th  St., 
J.  A.  Lefferts,  176  Alexander  av., 
C.  H.  Leggett,  24  W.  128th  st., 
Frank  N.  Lord,  249  E.  128th  St., 

E.  C.  Parker,  (C),  T,  241  E.  124th  st., 
C.  M.  Phelps,  2L,  331  E.  124th  St., 
W.  C.  Phelps,  331  E.  124th  St., 

F.  A.  Phillips,  jr.,  220  E.  124th  St., 
J.  W.  Powers,  jr.,  34  Mt.  Morris  av., 
A.  Rauchfuss,  F,  in  E.  77th  st., 

F.  A.  Ryer,  S,  336  E.  X24th  St., 


C.  P.  Sackett,  1406  Sixth  av., 
A.  Steiner,  48  E.  xa4th  st., 
Fred,  W.  Styles,  26a  W.  129th  st 
Page  96  may  be  consulted  for  detuls  con- 
cerning the   four   dubs  whose    subscribing 
members  (26-f-86-|- 19-1-26)  are  listed  above. 
The  following  117  subscribers  are  supposed 
to  be  outside  the  membership  of  those  dubs, 
but  the  names  of  some  of  them  will  be  found 
catalogued  again  with  the  clubs  at  Brooklyn, 
Harlem,  Jersey  City  and  elsewhere.     It  is  to 
be  noted  that  there  are  many  non-riders  on 
this  list,  and  that  many  of  the  addresses  need 
to  be  verified.    The  last  a6  names  are  alpha- 
betized separately,  without  addresses: 
".  vj.  Amory,  70  Reade  St.,  {Miss.  B.  C), 
Grosvenor  Atterbury,  7  E.  33d  St., 
Lyman  H.  Bagg,  Washington  Square, 
Geo.  O.  Beach,  63  E.  125th  St., 
J.  B.  Beers  &  Co.,**  36  Vesey  st., 
Jas.  L.  Beers,  36  Vesey  st. , 
T.  Eugene  Benjamin,  654  Broadway, 
Frederick  H.  Betts,  to,  78  Irving  Place, 
Geo.  R.  Bidwell  &  Co.,**  315  W.  58th  St.. 
Edward  T.  Birdsall,  107  E.  70th  St., 
Edward  A.  Bradford.tP,  Times  office, 
Wm.  Bradford,^  55  Broadway, 
E.  J.  Braunsdorf,  223  W.  loth  st., 
H.  C.  Bunner,  Puck  Building, 
John  A.  Burchell,  1143  Parkav., 
J.  G.  D.  Burnett,  138th  st.  ,betw.3d  &  4th  avs. , 
T.  S.  Burr,  24  Thomas  St., 
E. A.  Bush, prof,  fancy  bi.rider,C234  E.  35th), 
Geo.  M.  Buttle,  310  W.  32dst, 
Carmansvi/le  Park  Hotels  issth  St., 
Central  Press  and  Pub.  C'>.,  12  Vesey  st., 
Wm.  C.  Oarke.o,  75  Maiden  Lane, 
G.W.&C.B.Colton&Co.,**  182  WilUamst, 
E.  V.  Connor,  129  W.  33d  St., 
Wm.  A.  Copp,  $0,  206  Broadway, 
A.  F.  Currier ,to,  38  W.  36th  st,, 
Frank  E.  Davidson,  610  Lexington  av., 
Harry  L.  DeForest,  7  Washington  Sq.,  N, 
Henry  W.  DeForest,to,  15  W.  30th  St., 
Lockwood  DeForest,  o,  9  E.  17th  st, 
Johnston  DeForest,  7  Washington  Sq.,  N, 
Robert  W.  DeForest,  Jo,  120  Broadway, 
Wm.  H.  Demorest,  25  Catherine  slip, 
David  Dewitt,  82  BrMway,  {H.  C.  If^rnh 
Allen  W.  Evarts,to,  52  Wall  st, 
Herbert  Filmer,  3 18  Broadway, 
Joseph  R.  Folsom,**o,  751  Broadway, 
Forest  ami  Stream  Pub.Co.,39,4oP'k  R'« 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


Ill 


H.  F.Frasse,  62  Chatham  sL,  {L.  I.  IV*Ph\ 

Charles  W.  Gould,  to,  2  Wall  St., 

W.  F.  GuUen,  37  Broadway,  {B^kPn  B.C.), 

Wm.  C.  Gul1iver,$o,  120  Broadway, 

Wm.  H.  Hall,  jr.,  61  W.  56th  St., 

Reg.  Fairfax  Harrisoo,  21  Lezingtmi  ay., 

R.  S.  Hasbrouck,  jr.,  91  Liberty  St., 

A.  Hemjng,  18  Cedar  St., 

S.  Henderson,  56  Worth  St.,  {Bed/.  C.C.), 

Ideal  Pen  Co.,**  155  Broadway, 

Fred.  D.  Ives,  52  White  st, 

Elliott  Johnson,|iC,2i2  Br'dway,(/r.CII':), 

Henry  E.  Jones,  19  E.  17th  St., 

Charles  A.  Kinch,||  256  W.  54th  St., 

Moses  King,o,  279-283  Broadway, 

Walter  Klots,  i62d  st., 

W.  H.  L.  Lee,to,  20  Nassau  at, 

Lcve  &  Alden,**  207  Broadway, 

Eugene  H.  Lewis,to,  120  Broadway, 

W.  D.  Lintz,  315  W.  42d  St., 

W.  J.  McCreary,  801  Broadway, 

Howard  Mansfield,to,  15  Broad  St., 

Wm.  C  Marion,  126-130  Nassau  St., 

Albert  Mathews,$o,  31  Pine  St., 

Brander  Matthews,o,  12 1  £.  i8th  St., 

Frank  B.  Mirick,  jr.,  457  W.  43d  St., 

Tbos.  £.  Moessner,  107  Liberty  st., 

S.  H.Monell,  a  Maiden  Lane,  {LJ.  H^Pn), 

Frank  C.  Moore,  59  W.  130th  st, 

C  Muger,  jr.,  23  £.  37th  st, 

Geo.  Rayson^ewby,  247  W.  52d  st. 

New  York  Toy  Co.,**  14  Howard  St., 

Charles  Otis,  313  Greenwich  st.. 

Pope  Manufacturing  Co.,**  12  Warren  St., 

John  S.  Prince,  prof,  rider,  Clipper  <:^'att 

W.  Refers,  107  Liberty  St., 

Wesley  B.  Salter,  314  £.  79th  st, 

Gordon  F.  Smith,  P.  O.  Box  3640, 

Geo.  Thad.  Stevens,  37  £.  20th  st,. 

L.  W.  P.  Stevens,  20  Warren  St., 

Dan  Sweeney**  Saloon,  500  £.  133d  8t| 

B.  C.  Unseld,  76  £.  9th  st, 
H.  A.  Van  Liew,  21  E.  73d  St., 

.  L.  E.  Waterman.o,  155  Broadway, 
Perry  S.  Watson,  520  W.  43d  St., 
Francis  H.  Week5,}o,  120  Broadway, 
White,  Stokes  &  Allen,**  192  Fifth  av., 
Chas.  E.  Whittemore,  579  Broadway, 
Julius  Wilcox,*  IS  Park  Place, 
T.  K  Will8on,o,  IVorld  office, 
I.  O.  Woodruff,o,  88  Maiden  Lane, 
W.  M.  Wood«de,  prof,  rider,  Clipper  office. 
Mason  YottDg,to,  35  Wall  st, 


Geo.  F.  Alli8on,o,       Monroe  Le  Vino, 
James  W.  Auten,       S.  S.  McClure, 
A.  W.  Baird,  (Crawford  Mason), 

£.  P.  Baird,  Fred.  Mead,  jr.,o, 

G.  D.  Baird,o,  J.  D.  Pugh,  jr., 

R.  B.  Baird,  H.  D.  Sdioonroaker, 

Wm.  R.  Baird,to,      Chas.  J.  Solyom, 
W.  T.  Baird,  (Thomas  Stevens), 

Leander  A.  Bevin,o,  Aaron  S.  Thomas,o, 
W.  F.  Coffee,  Jr.,      (James  Watson,o), 
T.  G.  Condon,  Edw.  P.  Wilder,to, 

(Richard  Garvey),       Percy  Winter,  tc, 
A.  H.  Hayward,        C.  C.  Woolworth. 

Niagara  Falls:  (A^.  F.  B.  C,  Aug.  39,  '85), 
Neil  Campbell,  lc,C,  (^o.G.Shepard,  S-T. 

Norwood:  L.  L.  Ashley. 

Olean:  {O.  B.  C,  Aug.,  '83),  W.  H.  Butler. 

Oswego:  (a  fV.  C),  Fred  A.  Dixon,  VP, 
(Geo.  F.  Allison,  o),  John  P.  Miller,  lc 

Otego:  S.  R.  Lewis. 

ParkviUe,  L.  L:  W.  F.  Gullen,  Waah'n  av. 

Peconic:  JoeC.  Case. 

Peekakill:  C<nilandt  iyJieelmeH,¥eb.Z2,*8»f 
A.  D.  Dunbar,  S-T,  S.  Norris  Knapp, 
D.C.  Hasbrouck,  (C),lc,  S.  A.  Mead,  L, 
R.  S.  Hasbrouck,  jr.,  Henry  Tate. ' 
Edward  F.  Hill,  (lr,L(x),  lr,  (A^.  V.B.C), 

Plattsburg:  Curtis  H.  Veeder. 

Port  Henry:  Wallace  T.  Foote,  jr. 

Port  Jervis:  (Delaware B.C.,  May  20,  '83), 
Delaware  Hotel,  by  J.  E.  Wickham, 
ClarendoniMt  /foiel,hyEd.  G.  Giesenheimer, 
Frank  Malvern,**      Edd  C.Wickham,(S). 

Portland:  H.  M.  Fleming. 

Poughkeepeie:  Ariel  Wheel  C/a^,Dec.,'83, 
J.  R.  Adriance,P,LR,  A.  N.  Shaffer,* 
C.F.Cossum,S-T,TC,  Robt  E.  Taylor,to. 
C.  B.  Herrick,to, 

Bandolph:  {R.  B.  C),  D.  C.  Adams,  C, 
W.W.Canficld,*(S),C,  W.L.  Rathbone,P. 

Richmond  Hill,  L.L:  Wm.  A.  Jones,  a 

Kiverhead,  L.L:  A.  O.  Downs.!* 

Bochelle  (New):  Charies  F.  Canriy,to, 
N.  P.  Tyler,  ^tc,  (lcc),  l  ha'  dicapper. 

RochoBter:  {R.  B.  C,  Feb.  f,  '80), 
Phil  A.  Clum,  J.  G  Lenox, 

W.  J.  Curtice,  C,       Ge>rge  E.  Maier, 

E.  R.  Freatman,        J^cob  Oettinger, 

F.  B.  Graves,  (T),LC,  S.H.Pool,P,(C,S,TX 
A.  C.  Hills,  Geo.  H.  Robins, 

C.  F.  Hovey,  S,         Robert  Thompson, 
W.  H.  Learned,  (P),  W.  A.  Turpin. 
Sookland  Lake:  A.  L.  Wilson.f 


/76 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Boat:fX.S.C.,}u,.  19,  'Ut,  J-  M.  BanoD,* 
G.  Hury  CIuk,         F.  B.  Hodcei, 
Chii.  D.  HiWreth.  H,J.Ro*l»nd.LC,S-T. 
l:  (T.S.C.,jM.  i9,'«o),A,  C.  Rich.J 
r:  IS.  3.  C,  Nov.  ij, 'Bj), 
Corfrr  Himit.  by  L.  SicklcT, 
Jacob  W.  Clale,tC,Lii,  Sam.  R.  JaiHt, 
Ed.  L.  Davl.,  LC,        P.  E.  KiRi,  I* 

BelunuiTni:  Ralph  D.  Webttn. 

Sohnrlervma:  SchgiUrviik  Hrutt, 
Wm,  McLindon.o,     E.  S.  Tabor. 

Benew FKlla:  H.J.  Emmtit. 

Bbamun:  Eugene  Cud,*  Edina  Riplcy.u:, 

SllTuCraak:  Miiiii'Annf //<>iur,(Kiugbi's) 
A.  Wilson  Dod>  J      O.  A.  FairchUd. 

SlnolatrnUs:  W.  J.  Dudhue,  H.  C.  Slcmi. 

StUlmMr:  fnifTi  Hutut,  by  T.  S.  Euign. 

Stockport^  (CsAuH^  '^/'h,  June  ig,'S3], 
J.  Reynolds,  lc,  P,  R.  B,  Reynnldi,  S. 
Mn.  Josh.  Reynolcis,  (HmdurK  B.  C,  '8a.) 

Bnftam:  Ewr*it  //mat,  by  R.  Rigp. 

8yr»co«0:  (S.  B.  C,  Feb.  B,  'Bi), 
C.  W.  BardeeD,(P>,    H,  H.  R>caii,i>, 
WiUian  Giriner,       T.  K.  Wilkinton, 


I.  John* 


L.  S.  V 


i:  riiKXiif /^mr.by  Z.Caipgour. 
Tioy:  (r.  B.  C.  and  Tr^im  H^fnt, 
G.R.Co1lios,(C:),VP,  J.  E.  MUllr.iL, 
A.  P.  Dunp,  iL,  John  W.  Sue, 
Fred  P.  Ednuni ,•  M.  N.  Slrail,  h, 
W.  Gardner,  jr.,  T.  B.  Way,  P, 
Wm.L. Gardner, TC,F, Chat.  E.  WDKin,  T. 


roily.. 


N.Jnne.'Bj). 


CUoa:  (Pi 
Bof^t  Hatil,  by  T.  R.  Piocte 
Geo.  H.  Bidwell,  (S],  J.  B.  GrifiUu. 
Tan  HamatTUla:  Eatl  A.  Mixer. 
VarpUnk's  Point:  Henry  Tale. 
Walden^  (W.B.CX  Sumner  Bull,*  S-T, 
Wm,  I.  Diekioson,    F.  E.  Libenow, 
W,H,  Faulkner,tP,  C.  W.  Sadlter,  C, 
L.  W.  JanicD,  Erwin  Teva. 

WKpplnsar**  FaOli.-  t,W.W.  C,  Jan.i,'B4), 
H — .  H    B„«n,  P,  C,  ix, 

fort,    Daniel  Wntker. 
'Jitn  Cftlrrt,  June,  'Bj), 
[»oo,iC 

111.  F.Bara,O.G.C.Sheniutn. 
■idtftrtB.  f..  Dec,  i5, '8<i 
LB,  J.R.RheubolI«n,ir.,C, 
B.  L:  AuguitDi  R.  Buller. 
N.  DeRoy  Lee. 


Tooksn:  Gtttt  Htm,  by  W.  H.  Doty, 
Mamtitit  Htrnn,  D.  B.  Lewis. 

NEW  JERSEY. 

Barerly:  R.  C  Clarluon,  lc 

Bloomfleld;  John  V.  L.  Kenon. 

Banlsiitown:  (Owi  B.  C,  July  lo,  'Bi), 
C.  Fnnldin  Adunt,    P.  G.  WieM,*^,  lc, 
Fhil.F.H.Bnlieley,iL,  H.  Beuon  WieK, 
Wilkin  Cutler,  Louu  W.  Wiesc. 

Bound  Brook:  W.  B.  Tbonpun,  lc 

Brick  Chlinih;  C,  Creagh,  John  Durrie. 

Caldwell:  CaUuitllHaai.bfA.A.  Snyder, 

Ounden:  {Camiitn  B.  C,  iSBi), 
G.  R.  Bniwn,  S,         Geo.  W.  KnMed, 
G.  N.  Buiby,P,  LR,   C.  L.  Lnen, 
Jat.  B.  Dowling,       B,  O,  MUler,  lc 


>.Jan 


.•Hi. 


Edw.  Liillfiohn,  C,    Jot  C.  MiiiUn,(a      "^ 

XMt  Lous  Bnuiob:  Wni.  W.  Silkworth.  'lic 

Xut  OnUgS:  iO.  WatidtTtrt,  Nor.  it.'Bo].  '^c  - 
H,C.Douglas,(C,P),L»,  L.H.JohnMn,"  =£  .^" 
W,  W.  Geery,  L.H. Porter,! C),P,Tt    ^ 

miirtiath:  (i.  »";•■,  L,JoiK  7, "Bi.  Html.  r>^. 
quarlert,  116  Bread  bl),  Frank  Bergn,)^  *-  ".j;^ 
D.  Bkke  Bonnell,  J.  S.  Hendmoo,  ; 
L.B.BonnetI,(F),]L,M.  H.  Hcndencn,  L'^j; 
G.  Q  Brown, iLcc,  P,  Cha*.A.  Hulchinsun,  ^  ' 
A.  S.  Crane,  T,  Geo.  J.  Martin,  C,  "~- 

Samuel  C,  Crane,       P.  T.  Norton,  >: 

P.  Kemey  Dilks,       C.  C^Pennell,  S,      ^^ 
Harry  Floy,  A.  K.  Prince,  ^ 

William  E.  Gibbs,  A.  S.  Roorbadi,  B, 
C.H.K.HaIsey,VP,  T.  B.  Ruenna,  «. 
H.  W.  Hal«^y,  J.C.WeUKire,  (S-l    "" 

W.  H.  Haalinf^  (P),  R.  W.  WmdwudJ 

OrMIlTlltB:  A.  H.  Hiyward. 

Haokanuok:  {H.  B.  C,  Mar.  ij.'ta),       , 
C.J.Wood.  .'" 


Boboksn:  G,  Boebm,  37  Hudson  it,  ' 

C,  S.  Krijh,  H.W.Sagendorf,! 

J,  V,  L.  Kmon,         Frank  T.  Weller.  "* 

Jerwr  Otiy:  (Wwftm  C-Birr  »"/•■), 

E.  P.  Baggot,  H.  M.  Plan,  : 

A,  P.  Bennett,  S.  G.  Pnlnun,      ■■-. 

TlMM.aiamberlain,ir.,H.W.  Sagendorf, 
Darid  Dewill,  Eugene  M.  SnKl 

E.W.Jc>hn><m,IIC,Li>,  W,  P.  Srailh,  lc     . 
Chat.  E.  Kluge,         V,  B.  Tulane, 
Lewis  F.  Lyne,        (N-P.Tyler,l<tetO 
Geo.  J.  PfoiT,  H.  W.Winfield  ', 


DtRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


777 


i:  HnuyP.  Winn.o. 

WiDiui  Cdmlr. 
l:  C.  H.  GennDi. 

):  (J/.  AC,  Not,  i(i,'Si,H«p,  ;»}, 
J.  A.  Bduid.lLK,      T.  B.  Somni,  lcC, 
W.  Scott  QOIuDi,        C  S.  Swvnn, 
LewiiHonnJl,  E.  Vinamu,  lU 

H<ndMl  Halford,  P. 

HmiUlail:  (M.  »"/*«,  June,  ■83),  Phil.  Yonng, 
S.  J.  Holme*,  Roh  W.  Web-.  C, 

R.C.HalchLn«t.,ir.,  A.  J,  Wright.|  S-T, 

KoOTMtowii:  J.  L.  Moo™,  LC, 
Wtn.  J.  MoTTuon.  LS.  F.  C.  Stoko,  TC 

Koniitoini:  {ItfyrratyiBidittrt,  iiKt,%it, 
MamitK  Htttu,  by  B.  C.  GuBin, 
Park  Hinar.l,  by  Swphco  W.  Liut, 
InAyli,  (JOL  C.UiBUiIl,(C),}, 

Geo.  W.  Colli!,  P,       W.  S.  Molfofd, 
G.  P.  Firiey,  J.  F.  Runym,  (L), 

C.  H.  Otnuog,  TranHD  H.  Scoll, 

C.  T.  Halnead,  L,     S.  SUplei, 

C  5.  Leddetl,  CE-Vootheee,  jt.,u;, 

(Edw,  Uiilejohn,  O,  Jimn  D.  Voorlmi 
Mt.  BoUr:  C.  A.  UppiacolL 
Mawuk:  Caniin'l  MiUt,  L,opp.  D.  L.AW,, 

Nnjtrnf  arm,  (Occ.,'g)>,  Onlei)  Hall, 

J.  £.  Baker,  74R  Broad  H., 

P.  H.  Branp,  31  Rovlasd  «., 

D.  E.  Dnkc,  VP,  tj  Ml  Pleuasi  ar., 
Joha  S.  Dotum,  (VP),  6a  Fihh  a*., 

T.  E.Gay,  B,>97Newal., 

F.  W,  GoodscU,  114  Cominercs  R., 

Aithnr  R.  Grow,  (Summit,  N,  J.), 

ThaniaaW.  Jaekaon,  11  Myrtle av., 
aSit  W.  Jono.  (iL),  17J  Broad  fl., 
nank  J.  Keer,  iL,  Broidny, 
A.  O.  Lemeru,  iL,  S80  Bnwlu., 

Hiiam  K  UatW,  P,  46a  Broad  it., 

C.  B.  LongEnecker,  1S9  Wuhiogton  at., 

Homid  Miner,  4S  Webrter  ■!,, 

C.  W.  Northrop,  (.U  F),  VP,  15  Cedar  n., 

W.  H.PaiHDi,  P,  u,  ii^BenevilleaT., 

Howard  A,  Smilh,**  494  Broad  u.. 

Lout  N.  Spinning,  <S),  (SBnunil,  N.  /.), 

T.  E.  TheboMh.  CSban  miWH^m^, 


The  f  Mfjr  £.  C.  (Har.  S,  'n)  dainn  iba 

eitber  dub.  thm^  one  or  two  belnsg  to  Ibe 
Atalamta  Hrr^,  {art.  Mar.  ii.'U): 
£.  D.  FamawoTth,     Chirin  Pbars, 
Arthur  U  GenuDC,     S.  H.  Sarseant,  iL, 
Will  S.  Johnaon,         Nate  B.  Scarer, 
John  B.  Longer,         C.  Oifford  Smillie, 
Robert  D.  MEai],(C),WD.  B.  Soulbaid, 
J.  R.  Meeker,  G.  Burton  Taylor, 

F.  Adami,  ;S4  Broad  a. . 
Wm.  W.  Bingham,  iii  S.  Sinh  >!., 
Wm.  K  Blenelt,  jr.,  1B6  Waahingtoa  ar., 
A-  W.  Bouni,t  67  ^ennan  av,, 
Wilbur  F.  Coddinglim,  i4Taylor  al.,  S-T, 
John  J.  Daly,  jq]  Broad  a., 
C.  DenniMin,  id;  Padfic  it, 

Jane*  P.  Dowsi,  N.  Seventh  «., 
Samuel  W,  Geny,  jin)  Broad  at., 

A.  H.  Hayea,  >j  Walnut  at., 

E.  D.  Harrington,  153  Orange  gt., 
Schny:«r  B.  Jaduon.to,  7}6  Broad  iL, 
Samuel  J.  Macdonald,  73  Liberty  11., 
N.  T.  Slee,  Oraton  Hall,  494  Broad, 
Howard  A.  Smith  ft  Ca.,**OnUoDHal1, 

B.  S.  Whitehead,  94  Market  at , 

New  Brouwlok:  (0.  B.  C,  Hay  i9,'gi),i, 
Frank  H.  Cook,  J.  Fiendi  Scou,  h, 
A.Wakeuan  Scott.M,  C.D.Snededi*r,(LT> 

Hawtoni  C  L.  MoSeti,  laaae  D.  Reed. 

Vawtaimdlaiid;  Brim'i  HsUL 

Onwsa:  (.0.  ffamlirtn.  Nor.  II.  'to), 
Ha-alM  //«w,  F.  B.  HiUett,  LC, 

R.  H.  Alwater,  o,      J.  W.  Smith,  (C), 
WiUiam  Bead).  J.  W.  Snow. 

H.  A.  Smith  A  Cc.-^ilip.Maniiaa  Houa& 

Oiangs  TaUaj:  Hanr  Seymour  Baraea. 

Puulo:  J.  D.  Pu^.  H.  L.  SirnpHn. 

Patenon:  i^tlui  IV.  C),W.  F.«egga,$.T, 
John  T.  Browne,  Jnhn  Haiwood,  ^., 
Chaa.  D.  Cooke,  C.   Reuben  Ryle. 

PBmtMTtOD:  Emeat  H.  Diver, 

Fnth  Amboj:  iPtrtk  Ambtji  Cy^mU 
E.  W.  Barnes,  tc,P,  E.  E.  Hamboni,  C 

FWnAald;  (/■.  B.  C),  D.  C.  Adama, 
Robt,  W.  Andenon,!  A.  L.  C.  Marib. 
Geo.  Slnart  CoUina.     Robinaon  VooB&JSi, 


780 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


PtM$uylvama    BL   Cbib,   (Aug.   3,  'Sa),  l, 
club-house  at  41st  st  and  Elm  av., 
Eugene  M.  Aaron,  lS-E,xjOC,  29  S.  4th  St., 
Jas.  Leslie  Alvord,  435  Chestnut  St., 
Fred.  A.  Brown,  (T),  1346  St.  Albans  PI, 
S.  W.  Cheyney,  S.  654  N.  43^  »t» 
Isaac  Elwell,!  (C,S),  P,  229  S.  6th  St., 
W.  T.  Fleming,  1327  N.  Broad  st,, 
Wm.  S.  Harper,  233  S.  4th  St., 
Edgar  C.  Howell,  (VP),  3435  Lancaster av., 
Frank  M.  .Johnson,  1713  Jefferson  sL, 
G.  A.  Edward  Kohler,  1339  Parish  st., 
Arthur  P.  Lewis,  1909  Green  st., 
Henry  A.  Lewis,  1909  Green  st., 
Arthur  H.  MacOwen,  S,  216  S.  3d  st., 
Frederick  MacOwen,  lr,  (P), 
Chas.  M.  Miller,  (C),  1600  HamUton  st, 
C.  A.  Roberts,  lr,(C),  1203  Arch  st, 
H.  L.  Roberts,  211  Arch  st, 
T.  A.  Schaeffer,  216  S.  3d  st, 
C.  Shillard  Smith,  125  Market  St., 
W.  A.  Stadehnan,  lc,  (Ardmore  Station), 
Chas.  D.  Williams,  (P),  ut,  22a  S.  nth  st., 
H.  B.  WorreU,  lr,(VP),  560  N.  17th  st 
For  early  history  of  the  three  clubs  above 
catalogued  (10+214-23),  see  H.  B.  Hart's  il- 
lustrated sketch  in  the  tVAtr/mam  (July,  '83, 
pp.  257-265).    The  following  40  are  presumed 
to  be  unattached  riders,  though  there  are  a 
half-doien   lesser  clubs  in  Philadelphia  to 
which  some  of  them  may  belong: 
J.  Howe  Adams,LR,  1901  (^estnnt  St., 
Geo.  H.  Atkinson,  162  N.  2d  st, 
H.  Ayers,  527  Arch  St., 
James  Battersby,  879  N.  30th  St., 
Samuel  A.  Boyle,t  733  Walnut  st, 
(jeo.  R.  Brown,  Front  and  Market  sts., 
G.  B.  Bryan,  36  N.  4th  St., 
G.  N.  Busby,  lk,  517 'Market  st, 
F.  D.  Canfield,  Mt  Airy  ay., 
Fred  A.  Colvin,  3906  Fairmount  av., 
N.  F.  Cressman,  Chestnut  Hill, 
H.  J.  &  G.  R.  Crump,  Colamtade  HoUl^ 
J.  S.  Durham,  Univ.  of  Penn.,  ed.  Maga,,, 
Edward  H.  Harding,  28  N.  6th  st., 
Jas.  Alvord  Gale,  6  Chestnut  st, 
John  H.  Geil,t  30  N.  5th  st, 
Henry  M.  Cvoodwin,  1119  N.  4th  st, 
Russell  H.Gunnis,n.w.oor.2ist  &  Chestnut, 
Thomas  Hare,  2045  N.  X3th  st, 
E.  Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,««  321  Chestnut  St., 
Henry  Humphreys,  13x5  Mt.  Vernon  st., 
J.  W.  Johnson,  3600  Market  St., 


L.  S.  Kern,  425  N.  3d  st, 
C.  L.  Letsen,  Putnam  and  Maacfaer  Ma., 
L.  U.  MaItby,o,  HaUl  LafigftOe^ 
Wm.  E.  Mellor,  2030  N.  nth  at, 
Benj.  M.  Norman,  831  Arch  St., 
Albert  A.  Norris,  1525  S.  Broad  st, 
W.  B.  Page,  281  S.  Fourth  st., 
L.  C.  Perkins,  1818  E.  Lehigh  st., 
Chas.  J.  Pilling,  3412  Sansom  st, 
Wm.  H.  Roberts,  127  Catherine  st, 
J.  Henry  Sharpe,  4006  Pine  St., 
Horace  E.  Smith,  12 13  Walnut  st, 
H.  Sturdevant,  Wissahidion  Sution, 
Henry  Troth,  150  N.  20th  st, 
Frederick  Trotter,  255  S.  3d  st, 
Harry  B.  Vincent,t  4087  Locust  st., 
Charles  E.  Yeriies,  1535  Girard  av., 

Plttilnirg:  {JKtysiont  B.  C,  Dec  14,  '79), 
O.  H.  AUerton,  jr.,     Paul  S.  Johnston, 
H.E.Bidwell,LR,C,     G.  A.  Lyon,(P), 
Harvey  (rhilds,o,        J.W.McGowin, 
C.M.aarke,LC,P,(S-T),  R.  T.  Shannon, 
J.  F.  Cowan,  E.  D.  Smith. 

J.  E.  Normecutt  &  Co.,**  94  Fifth  av., 
Pittsbuig  Fire  Arms  Co.** 

Pottstown:  (/*. B. C. ,  Aug.  i,*84)  J.C. Kngfer. 

PottSVilto:  A.  L.  Phillips. 

Pnnxintawiiey:  St.ElmcHaUi,\rfE^V,QnL 

Beading:  (R.  B.  C),  J.  Arthur  Curtis, 
Will  S.  Dotter,(B),    Samuel  E.  Slegd, 
W.  R.  Fichthorn,       H.  K.  Whitner,S,ut, 
J.  L.  Henreitser,(S),W.  I.  Wilhe1m,Lc(P.O. 
Howard  W.  Potter,    Chas.  G.  WiUson. 

Bidgway:  W.  L.  Williams,  ttc 

Sayre:  Percy  L.  Shidair. 

Soott  Haven:  Ed.  W.  Ole. 

SenntO]i:(.S.  B.C.,  Jun.  2o,'8i), Fsresl  //«.. 
Scrani^H  BicycU  Ci$ii,L,  121  Wyoming  av., 
C.  C.  Conklin,  J.W.  Pentecost,(VP). 

W.  L.  Connell,  Frank  PhiWp, 

B. P. Connolly ,(F),iL, John  F.  Roe,  jr., 
L.  H.  Gibbs,f       G. Sanderson, jr. ,(P,lccX 
Fred  C.  Hand,  lc,     H.  P.  Simpson,  F, 
A.  J.  Kolp,*  C,  J.  A.  Spencer,  iL, 

R.  M.  La  Touche,      John  J.  Van  Nort,S, 
Geo.  L.  Mayer,  C,     H.  C.  Wallace, 
J.  «A.  Mott.  Frank  D.  Watts,  T. 

Sewloklay:  Seward  H.  Murray. 

Bonth  Bethlehem:  (LtAi^k  Umw.  B.  C.\ 
Charles  L.  Flack,  C.  H.  Veeder,  (bcX 
H.  G.  Reist, 

Buqnehaana:  {S.  B.  C,  1881), 
T.A.Hayward,LC,    F.A.MiUer,  ed. : 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


TltUTlll«:  (7-.  B.  C),  HiM  Bnmiwici 
¥..  H.  Amci,  P.LC,    A.  MindsJ], 
C.  W.  BuRii,  S,         A.  B.  OlbBui, 
a  G.  C»rtH,  E.  T.  Robol*, 

E.  C.  Lntkin,  R.  C.  Seldcn.  C 

Towuidm:  WardHnm,  S. M.Woodburn.l 

Unlontown:  McCUUaitit  Htmt.x. 
1!  J.  M.  Maunr.l 
};  National  »«>!(/ (Wbdei'i), 
Cbrton  PhUija,  E,  J,  Ryder. 

WBynMliiiTs:  Daany  Uaar,  by  S.Mil™, 
H.  H.  Huil,  LC,         W.  S.  PipM. 

Weluport^  G.  C,  D»u,  John  F.  Zgm. 

WelUboro:  (WiiiAwB  lt"rm,  Miiyii,  'H), 
CoUi  HtHU,  by  ;»niM  S.  Coles, 
Ri)btR.D»rtI,{iL),VP,  A.R.Nile».tS-T, 
H.  L.  Daris.T  Lyman  S.  Robena.F, 

F.A.I>euu,Lii,(P),C,  Geo.M.Spildiae,  fP, 
Geo.  W.  Honk,(0.  Geo.  W,  wmUni.,i(. 
.G™n,(Q,jmS,aL.l. 


J.N.R 


>p,TW.  S.  SdULt 


\,  ILP.Twt 


MARYLAND, 

I;  PraULitrary,  HtM  Kmt 

^^ylamd  BL  CImS,  (Mu.    if,   'gi),   . 

hoiiae  opp.  Mt.   Royal  Rnervoir, 

Reaervoirat.  aod  Ml.  Royil  a*.,  I 

HDl  Pvk  (deiUcated  Oct.  14, 'Bs). 

O.  H.  K 


Ai^i 


a  ThaaipuD.Lcciig  W.Baldmon  a., 
^  TrEgo.(ux),  B.  &  O.  Building. 
<i>nC^ZrCM(oiK.  u  I.<^eyttU  WliaU 
HUH,  July  E J,  *0jX^^  7*7  Madiaonav. 
C  W.  AbbolI,VP,  fm  W.  Fnyelle  at, 
J.  F.  Baeljei,  [T,Q,  ]4i  W.  Baldmgrc  at., 
W.  S.  Bayley.  {S,VP,P),ls,  ]M  Ngnb  av., 
FiedW.  Beck,  ji.,S,  117  Harlem  IT., 
Qua.  H.  Boyd,  se  Si,  Pud's  Euended, 
W.  B.  Brown,  iL,  i  N,  Charles  n., 
J,  E.  Davidson,  P,  177  W,  Ballinore  St., 
C.C,Iaaai3,T,corCanyBl,aiid  Edm'may,. 
G.  N,  Jacobi,  C,  &4S  Dniid  HiJl  >t,, 
Wm.  5.  KaUer,  (P),  jSj  N.  Gilmer  at., 
Hatry  P.  Kreia,  jL,  ji8  Myrtle  av., 
R.  M.  Lockwood,  jr.,  S,  »  Second  at., 
Oas.  B.  Ludwig,  (Q,  ijo  N.  Honrd  .1., 
A.  E.  Mealy,  (lh.CF),  4ja  Mulberry  at., 
A.  W.  Mentael,  B,  340  Lanvale  St., 
A.  M.  Snyder,  iL.  T36  H,  Howard  at. 
W.  Edgar  Sptigg.  (F), 
Wm.  H.  Thomai,  jr.,  looS.  Charlea  a., 
Fred  W.  WhilnuD,  aBi  McCulloh  >L, 


s.  J,  1 


ii  Pirkai 


C.  Wonhinglon.  F,  6  Rialio  Buildiog. 
{WUrlinfWTnqfMd.,  disbanded  Jan., '86), 
Washiagloii  B.  Boai,C,iJi,  40  Jacktonsq.,  ' 

Pierre  G.  DauKh,TP,  315  £.  Baltimore  St., 

Lewis  Hetl.F,    uWalerst., 
J.  K.  Le  Toonian.B,  39  N.  Aim  at., 

E.J.Mabbelt,Lii,T,cor.Fayettea  Front  su., 
F.  L.  Shaffer,  jr.,  4ai  E,  Ballimore  at, 
J.  R.  Wheehr,  )r„(S),  P.  O.  Boi  4«s, 


Jo* 


lield,  F,  I 


N.  Gay 


The  £rat  three  folkming  belong  to  the  Jm- 
or  WliHlmiH  o/BaU,,  (org.  Nov.  j.'Sa),  and 
the  nen  Bve  to  the  Druid  Cjretali  t/  Bait., 
{org.  March,  '84),  while  the  remainder  are  pre- 

C,P.Brigbam,(S,C),McCidl<ibS  PreBtman 
a  B.  Chalworthy.  184  McCulloh  «.,  till.. 


780 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Ptntuyioaaua    BL   dyb,   (Aug.   3,  '8a),  l, 
dub>house  at  4iit  it  and  Elm  av., 
Eugene  M.  Aaron,  lS-E^loc,  39  S.  4th  tt., 
Jaa.  Leslie  Alvonl,  435  Chestnut  St., 
Fred.  A.  Brown,  (T),  2346  St.  Albans  PI., 
S.  W.  Cheyney,  S,  654  N.  43«1  »t., 
Isaac  Elwell,t  (C,S),  P,  229  S.  6th  at, 
W.  T.  Fleming,  1337  N.  Broad  sL, 
Wm.  S.  Harper,  333  S.  4th  St., 
Edgar  C.  Howell,  (VP),  3435  Lancaster av., 
Frank  M.  .Johnson,  1713  Jefferson  sL, 
G.  A.  Edward  Kohler,  1339  Parish  St., 
Arthur  P.  Lewis,  1909  Green  St., 
Henry  A.  Lewu,  1909  Green  St., 
Arthur  H.  MacOwen,  S,  316  S.  3d  St., 
Frederick  MacOwen,  lr,  (P), 
Chas.  M.  Miller,  (Q,  1600  Hamilton  st, 
C.  A.  Roberts,  lr,<C),  1303  Arch  st, 
H.  L.  Roberts,  sii  Arch  St., 
T.  A.  Schaeffer,  316  S.  3d  St., 
C.  Shillard  Smith,  135  Market  St., 
W.  A.  Stadelman,  lc,  (Ardmore  Sution), 
Chas.  D.  Williams,  (P),  lr,  333  S.  nth  st, 
H.  B.  WorreU,  lr,(VP),  560  N.  17th  st 
For  early  history  of  the  three  clubs  above 
catalogued  (io-f-ai4-a3)*  see  H.  B.  Hart's  il- 
lustrated sketch  in  the  Wketlman  (July,  '83, 
pp.  357-365).    The  following  40  are  presumed 
to  be  unattached  riders,  though  there  are  a 
half-doxen   lesser  dubs  in  Philadelphia  to 
which  some  of  them  may  belong: 
J.  Howe  Adams,iJt,  1901  Chestnut  St., 
(tCo.  H.  Atkinson,  163  N.  sd  st, 
H.  Ayers,  s>7  Arch  st, 
James  Battersby,  879  N.  30th  St., 
Samuel  A.  Boyle, t  733  Walnut  st, 
C3eo.  R.  Brown,  Front  and  Market  sts., 
G.  B.  Bryan,  36  N.  4th  St., 
G.  N.  Buzby,  lr,  517'Market  st, 
F.  D.  (infield,  Mt  Airy  av., 
Fred  A.  Colvin,  3906  Fairmount  av., 
N.  F.  Cressman,  Chestnut  Hill, 
H.  J.  &  G.  R.  Crump,  Colonnade  Hotel, 
J.  S.  Durham,  Univ.  of  Penn.,  ed.  ASxga,, 
Edward  H.  Harding,  a8  N.  6th  st, 
Jas.  Alvord  Gale,  6  Chestnut  st, 
John  H.  (jeil,t  30  N.  5th  st, 
Henry  M.  (Goodwin,  1119  N.  4th  St., 
Russell  H.Gunnis,n.w.oor.3ist  ft  Chestnut, 
Thomas  Hare,  3045  N.  13th  st, 
E.  Stanley  Hart  ft  Co.,**  331  CHiestnnt  St., 
Henry  Humphreys,  13 15  Mt  Vernon  st, 
J.  W.  Johnson,  3600  Market  St., 


L.  S.  Kern,  435  N.  3d  st, 
C.  L.  Leiaen,  Putnam  and  Masdier  sla., 
L.  U.  Maltby,o,  NoUl  La/tgfttU^ 
Wm.  E.  MeUor,  3030  N.  nth  at, 
Benj.  M.  Norman,  831  Ardi  St., 
Albert  A.  Norris,  1535  S.  Broad  st, 
W.  B.  Page,  38s  S.  Fourth  st, 
L.  C.  Perkins,  1818  E.  Lehigh  st, 
Chas.  J.  Pilling,  3413  Sansom  st, 
Wm.  H.  Roberts,  137  Catherine  st., 
J.  Henry  Sharpe,  4006  Pine  st., 
Horace  £.  Smith,  1313  Walnut  St., 
H.  Sturdevant,  Wissahickon  Sution, 
Henry  Troth,  150  N.  aoth  st., 
Frederick  Trotter,  355  S.  3d  st, 
Harry  B.  Vincent, t  4087  Locust  st, 
(Charles  E.  Yerkes,  1535  Girard  av., 

PitUlrarg:  {Keystone  B.  C,  Dec  14,  '79), 
O.  H.  AUerton,  jr.,      Paul  S.  Johnstou, 
H.E.Bidwell,LR,C,     G.  A.  Lyon,  (P), 
Harvey  C3iilds,o,        J.W.McGowin, 
C.M.aarke,LC,P,(S-T),  R.  T.  Shannon, 
J.  F.  Cowan,  E.  D.  Smith. 

J.  E.  Normecutt  ft  Co.,**  94  Fifth  av., 
Pittsbuig  Fire  Arms  Ck>.** 

Pottttown:  (/>.^.C.,Attg.i,*84),J.CKugier. 

Potts^riUe:  A.  L.  Phillips. 

Pnnxintawney:  St.ElmoHotel^jy^V.Qnl 

Beadlxig:  {R.  B.  C),  J.  Arthur  Curtis, 
Will  S.  Dotter,(B),    Samuel  E.  Slegd, 
W.  R.  Fichthorn,       H.  K.  Whitner,S,u, 
J.L.Henreitser,(S),W.  L  WUhehn,Lc(P,C). 
Howard  W.  Potter,    Chas.  G.  Wilbon. 

Bidffway:  W.  L.  WUIiams,  Ylc 

Sayre:  Percy  L.  Sindah-. 

Scott  Haven:  Ed.  W.  Cole. 

Boranton: {S.  B.C.,  Jnn.  3o,'8i),  Forest  //#., 
Scrattton  Bicycle  Chib,i^  131  Wyoming  av., 
C.  C.  Conklin,  J.W.  Pentecort,(VP), 

W.  L.  Connell,  Frank  Phfflip, 

B. P. Connolly ,(F),iL, John  F.  Roe,  jr., 
L.  H.  Gibb«,ir       G.Sander8on,ir.,(P,LCc), 
Fred  C.  Hand,  lc,     H.  P.  Simpson,  F, 
A.  J.  Kolp,*  C,  J.  A.  Spencer,  iL, 

R.  M.  La  Touche,      John  J.  Van  Nort.S, 
Oo.  L.  Mayer,  C,      H.  C.  Wallace, 
J.  A.  Mott.  Frank  D.  Watte,  T. 

Bewloklflj:  Seward  H.  Murray. 

South  Bethlehem:  iJLehigh  Univ.  B.  C.\ 
Charies  L.  Flack,  C.  H.  Veeder,  (lc). 
H.  G.  Reist, 

Svaqiiehaima:  {S.  B.  C,  1881), 
T.A.Hayward,LC,    F.  A.  Miller,  ed.  TVimi- 


TltosviUa:  (7:  A  C),  Htta 
E.  H.  Ames,  P.lc;    A.  UaadeH, 
C  W.  Burtia,  S»         A.  R  Oit^ui. 
CG.  Carter,  E^T.Ilobertit 

E.  C  Lufkin,  r,  q  JSiJ^itn.  Q 

TowMda:  »--n/Ar«r.  ailWoodbonuT 
unianUnm:  4iK:iUSk«i^i/Mw^ 
Waahiagtan:  /.  M,  Maner.f 
WftjaesboiD:  Nmimnal  /f^MCWhd^ML 
CUytoo  PhiKp,.  E.J.R,d«,         ^ 

WajaatlmiV:  Dimmer  i/«w 

'^  ^*  Hull,  ijc;  HT.  s.  ni 

Wefa^KWizCC  Deal..  John  f.  £«„. 

Coto  ^,«r,  by  Jaacs  &  Cbles» 
RobLlH>artt,(,LXVP,  A.R.  Nile.,  IS-T 
H   U  D.^T  jr,,^  S^  IU*em.F 

Wert  Charter:  RO.Greea^Q,  joo&^J" 
Wert  NewtoB:  S.  R  PboL 

F^.F.  Field,  a.c  cor.  jfidi  and  ro»  !■     «- 
W.C  McCKntock,!  Brown  and  niih.,  ■ 

E.  Carpenter.  c  a.  UiJbtm. 

wiUlamsport:  {t§r,  nr,  a,  j«^  -, ,,,. 

Frank  R.  Otto^t  Wm  H.  Fautet 
Wjmnlnif:  C  p.  KnapM  w.  sl  StiiB.t 

York:  ;#T..*i,^^^^  G.  D 
Howard  O.  '  — -    -^     -  -  - 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN, 


73i 


^ DELAWARE. 

DOTO:  P.  Burnett,       Jofa,  &  CoCa. 

MARYLAKD 

*»«»e^  lit.   R,^   R,^,_ 
RsauFou  at.  and  Ml  Ka«^ 
Hffl  Pat  (dedfa«  Oa^^- 
O.  H.  Baldentan,  uf  FW^  ar 
S.T.aark,«*u:.Tc,(p^  ,  ^j^*' 
Alb«C.Ke«ly.(S),vCawy 

L.  Stone  Kins,  CA  (C)i  M  . 
Edward  Marfcen,  ,,,..,5  w 
G.  WOfiam  ICadm,  R  *  O. 
Yates  Pemmnaa  (la) 
W.  H.  Petkins,  ^.,  »  |c 
William  SpofBeo^' 
J*lm  W.  Taykr,  3 
AlWC.Thc.p.«.S.^ 


Ft. 


I 

f 
I 

I 

I 
I 


i^  ?«P«»»'«^«9  W.Balrimore«. 
JJ^S^^^;  «•*  O.  Building.      ' 

C^ISLL''J!t^^'  *"  ^7  Madi«n  ar. 
CW.  Abbott. VP,  64.  w.  Fayette*. 

*««I  W.  Beck,  jr..  S.  ri7  Harlem  ar 
a»»- H.  BoK  «6  St.  pLl^rS^ 
W.  a  ftown,  «L.  a  N.  CharfcastT^ 

r  vT^^.       ^^^■^•^*»<*Edm'anaT 
Wm.  &  Kahler.  (Pj.  ^^  jf.  Gihnerlt. 

K;M.  I-cfcwood.  r.  S,  «  S««m|  i. 
a«^B.Lndwig,(CX.5«N.Howa„;^ 

A.  W.  Memxel,  B,  a^  Lanwale  «. 

Wm.  H.  Tbomas.  p^    «oSL  Claris      * 
F«d  W.  Wlw.^  ^  M.,C^T7  "^• 

^  woilhi^gann,  F,  6  Riiho  Funr 
ilf'kira^Uni'm^ML    liilim il,  1 1_     _ 

G.  Baa«A.TP.  „5 

Het*,F,  14  Wateri 
J-  K.  Le  Tonraan^.  ,8  K. 
G.  Leniici  Lncaa,  14  Water  ar. 
E.J.l^b«.,^T.«r.p^^,^^^ 

r.  i^  SaSer.  jr.,  4,,  £.  lfaV4«.trrt  at, 
J.R,W1mefar,  jr./S^  P.  O.  B««  4tfc 
Jtompfc  WieaenleU,  F.  143  W.  Gay  ac 

"e  ■«  iwe  to  the /Vwj^  ewe*!,  w^ 
^oiHIarA.'a*^  while  ihe    ''^^  ^ 
MMdtobemaaai 
CP.BriBfc„/s,^  

^  B- Cfcatwonhy.  ■«4  McOJ*A  «^ --^ 
Wm.C.CrwrfBRt<.S.^'    - 
I- Hcriicft  BaSey,  j6, 

J  K«ipR»dett.C,ia,4. 
^  C  Karkwood,  P.  O.  &,  ^^ 

j!~»  S^««.B,  ySi  W. 
?^  S.  Sinn,  Tltx  rf 
W.J 


782 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Janon  Fisher,  39  Cathedral  st, 

M.  Hartwe]],o,  Johns  Hopkins  University, 

Loyell  Hutchins,  14c  W.  Pratt  st, 

E.  Oliver,  378  Eutaw  PI., 

A.  Schumacher  &  C6.,**  9  S.  Gay  St., 
Chas.  J.  Tillman,  a  Block  St., 

Cumberland:  E.H.Baker,ir,  W.W.Damell. 

Olenwood:  Frank  Dorsey. 

Hagentown:  (/r.  B,  C,  May  36,  '84), 
Baldwin  Hausg^  by  James  R.  McLaughlin, 
W.  E.  McComas,  P,  Geo.  Updegraff,  C. 

North  Bait:  Harry  H.  Simpers. 

Oxford: 
Wm.  S.  Bratt,  John  W.  Murphy, 

H.  Jarvis,ir§*»  W.  C.  Nichols. 

Tilghnum'S  Islaild:  J.  E.  Kinnamon. 

Westminster:  ( W.  B.  C.  ),W.  L.  Seabrook,tS. 

DISTRICT  OF  COLUMBIA. 

Georgetown:  L.  W.  Jewell,  3260  First  st. 

Washington:  Library  ^  Congress^ 
^WiUartts  Hotel,  by  O.  G.  SUples, 
Penn.  av.,  at  14th  st. 

Capital B.  C,(Jan.  3i,'79),  club-house,   15th 
C.  M.  Barrick,  (sub  C),  213  8th  St.,         [st., 
Fred  S.Church,(C),sub  C,i  127  t7th  st.  n.w., 
Wallace  F.  Crossman,  708  9th  st.  n.  e., 
Edw.B.  Forney,  Penn.  av.  &  isthst.  n.w., 
C.  E.  Hawley,  1353  Conn,  av., 
Leland  Howard,  (P),  1407  tsth  st., 
L.  W.  Seely,t(LC,S,C),  56  Pacific  Building, 
Ben).  F.  Wilkins,  jr.,  923  23d  st. 

WoihingUm  C.  C,  L,  (Mar.  31,  '83), 
dub-house,  1023  lath  st.  n.  w., 
(James  I.  Brereton,  (C),  A  st.  n.  e.), 
A.  P.  Crenshaw,  jr.,  T,  621  19th  St., 
((}eo.  E.  Emmons,  (lr),  602  E  st.  s.  e.), 
Wm.  T.  Fizer,irr,  18 19  15th  st.  n.  w., 
W.  B.  Hardy,  25  Lafayette  sq., 
Amos  W.  Hart,(P),  1112  N.  Y.  av., 
John  H.  Hawley,S,  (Chicago), 
Wm.  Geo.  Kent,  11 17  Penn.  av., 
G.M.Meyers,(L,S-T),S,  Citizens  Nat,  BTt, 

F.  W.  Moulton,  1420  N.  Y.  av., 
F.  H,  Pelouze,(P),  314-316  8th  St., 

E.  T.  Pettengill,§P,(S),  lcc,  X713  N.  Y.  av., 
T.  J.  Putnam,(S),  Library  of  Congress, 
L.  H.  Schneider, t(LCc),  6x1  20th  st.  n.  w., 
J.  Cha8.V.  Smith,*(C,VP),  1206  Penn.  av., 
Louis  C.  Solyom,  Library  of  Congress. 
The  rest  are  supposed  to  be  unattachedt 
Winston  Bresee,  1324  F  st.  n.  w., 
Geo.  M.  Finckel,       H.  W.  Higham, 


John  B.  Hotchkiss,    John  A.  Porter,o, 
Henry  D.Maynadier,  C^o.  F.  Ruoff, 
R.  S.  Painter,  (Wm.  C.  Scribner), 

F.  H.  Parsons,  Geo.  W.  Walter. 

WEST  VIRGINIA 

Martinslmrg:  H.  S.  Smith,  195  Front  st. 
Shepherdstown:  A.  E.  Miller, 

EntUr  Hotel,  by  B.  F.  Graves. 
Summit  Point:  Add.  S.  Allen. 
Wheeling:  (iV.  W^tn,  Sept.  22,  »8o>. 

New  McClure  House,  by  F.  J.  Norton, 

WUliam  D.  McCoy. 

VIRGINIA. 

Benyvllle:  M.  Griffith.§ 
Harrisonburg:  {Star  B.  C,  Oct.  to,  '84), 

Frank  L.  Harris.JlP,  Carter  C.  Sprinket.N. 

John  L.  Logan,  S,     P.  S.  Thomas,  (S), 

Geo.  W.  RibbIe,*»C,  J.  C.  Van  Pelt. 
Natural  Bridge:  Natural  Bridge  HoUl, 

[by  H.  C.  Parsons. 
Norfolk:  {Seaside  B.  C,  May,  *8o), 

C.  A.  Field,  jr.,  P. 
Bichmond :  {Old  Dominicn  W^Pn,  June,  '85V 

J.T.Butler,  ir.,VP,L,0.  H.  Meyer,  S-T. 

Linn  B.  Enslow, 
Staunton:  Virginia  Hotel,  by  J.D.  Crowle. 
Strasburg:  Chalybeate  Swings  Hotel, 

[by  A.  P.  McIntur£F. 
Warreaton:  JVarren  Green  Hotel, 

[by  J.  H.  Maddux. 
Winchester:  Lewis  N.  Barton,  Union  B'nk. 
Woodstock:  N.  B.  Schmitt. 

NORTH  CAROLINA. 

Charlotte KC.^.C,  Mar.i5,'82),T.T.Giliiier, 
R.  L.  Jones,  S-T,  Will  L.  Pharr,(F),sub  C, 
L.  J.  Massey,  T.  B.  Seigle. 

Wilmington:  {JV.  B.  C,  Nov.  9,  '83), 
James  L.  Yopp,  P,lc 

SOUTH  CAROLINA. 

Columbia.-(C.^.C.,Aug.9,'8a),G.M.Berry,C, 

E.  H.  Hewitt,  W.  Jenidon. 

Qreenville:  Pardon  B.  Sanford. 

GEORGIA. 

Columbus:  {C.B.CX   T.  L.  Ingram ,*C. 

Macon:  (Af.  B.  C,  May  13,  '83), 
John  C.  Flynn,  iL,    Jesse  £.SIocaaib,aL, 
J.  H.  PolhiU.IC,       Jaa.  C.  Wmbcig,  S. 

Tbomasvllle:  W.  F.  Mc 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


783 


W6«t  Point:  iW.  P.  S.  C.)y 
Ciark  Houu,  by  R.  S.  Clark 
B.  F.  Eady,  Frank  Lanier, 

R.  T.  Frost,  Henry  Lanier.* 

FLORIDA. 

Fenumdlna:  W.  J.  Farrell  {Ptoria  B.  C). 
Orlando:  William  G.  Brown. 

ALABAMA. 

Birmingham:  (A  B.  C.)>  Geo.  L.  Root 

Montgomery:  {M.  B.  C    .'884), 
TJU  Windsor,  by  Watt  &  Lanier, 
Harry  Bibb,  R.  H.  Polk, 

Oliver  A.  Clapp,         W.  J.  Tullis, 
Joe  Gue,  D.  E.  Williams,  jr., 

Frank  X.  Mudd.*       Sam.  E.  Wilson. 

New  Castle:  C.  P.  Orr. 

Tuskegee:  (r.  B.  C.\  J.  B.  Dryer,  C. 

MISSISSIPPL 

Oolnmbns:  Sam.  B.  Johnston. 
Holly  Springs:  S.  M.  Patton. 
Vicksbnrg:  James  Purvis  Bruce, 
Washington  HoUly  by  Welch  &  Co. 

LOUISIANA. 

New  Orleans:  {N.O.B.C),  G.  G.  Gonzalez, 
A.  M.  Hill,  (P),         J.  F.  Morrow, 
W.  C.  MackUn,  John  M.  Parker. 

TEXAS. 

Austin:  H.  W.  Dodge. 

Brownsboro:  S.  I.  Cade. 

Corpus  Christi:  {Victor B.  C,  May  7,  '84), 
B.G.  Bames,C,  B.P.  Hancock,  F.E.Wells. 

Fort  Worth:  Henry  H.  Kerr,o. 

Galveston:  {G.  B.  C), 
(J.  G.  Alltson.Q,        T.  L.  Grover, 
(E. L.Beckwith,(LCC,S),),  C. M.Scrimgeour. 

Wichita  Falls:  R.  West  Starr. 

ARKANSAS. 

Little  Bock:  Charles  F.  Shillaber. 

Pine  Bluff:  A  mis  House,  by  Sam.  H.  Amis, 
Jos.  P.  Angell,*  Smith  Stubblefield, 

Chester  Floumoy,      T.  J.  Wilson. 
S.  Geisreiter, 

TENNESSEE. 

Chattanooga:  {Crescent  B.  C,  1883), 
Clarke  H.  Home,C,  John  S.  Lindsay,  S. 

Memphis:  {M.  B.  C,  June  33,  '84), 
J.  R.  Garrison,  C.  J.  Scherer,* 

S.WadeHampton,)r.,B,  W.L.Surprise,LCC, 
S.M.Mallalieu,C,  W.F.Yates,iL,  [S-T, 
7%r  Southern  Cycler^  pub.  at  209  Main  st 


I     Nashville:  Library  of  iM/ Y.  M.  C.  A., 
{NashviU*  Bicycle  Club,  Sept  14,  'So), 
J.  B.  Burdeit,»*C,  A.  E.  Howell ,(C,P,lcc), 
J.  Howard  Coles,       J.  Knox  Polk,  B, 
Ed.  D.  Fisher,  J.  S.  Ross,  F. 

{Rock  City  Bicycle  Club,  Feb.,  '84), 
BiMnaan  Duncan,       C.  C.  Northern,  VP, 
Henry  Haitung,  P,    J.  B.  Northern,  B, 
AdrianV.Lindsley,jr.,o,K.  Northem,N, 
Henry  Morris,T,        Eugene  Sinclair, 
Robert  W.  Nichol,     J.  D.  Talbot,  S. 

KENTUCKY. 

Ashland:  {Park  City  IVTn,  Apr.  10,  '84), 
J.  C.  Brubaker,P,  Ashland  Poage,  S.T,ix, 
P.  Brubaker,  L.R.Putnam, 

Edw.  Crawford,  E.  M.  Roberto,  (P), 

John  Henderson,        L.  W.  Sieweke. 

Augusta:  {A.  B.  C), 

Taylor  House,  L,  by  F.  S.  Andrews, 
R.  L.  Armstrong,        Ben  Harbesson,  T, 
T.  H.  Armstrong,  S,  J.  W.  L.  Parris, 
J.  N.  Fleming,  lc,      H.  L.  Taylor. 

Bardstown:  Central HoUl,  by  I.M.Hughs. 

Cave  City:  Mammoth  Cave  Hotel, 

[by  W.  C.  Comstock. 

Covington:  {Kenton  W.  C,  Oct.  15,  83), 
R.  B.  Baldwin,  Hananer  &  Myers,** 

Robson  C.Greer,(C),  P.N.  Myers,(S-T,ix:), 
Chas.  W.  Hananer,    H.  S.  Rodgers,  B. 

Dayton:  H.  W.  Langley. 

Dulaney:  Robert  D.  Garrett 

Henderson:  {H.  B.  C.),l,  Barrett  Hotel, 
R.  G.  Adams,  J.  H.  Letcher,  jr., 

Jas.  B.  Cabell,  W.  F.  Redman,  B, 

M.  F.  Holloway,        H.  S.  Rudy,  S-T, 
T.  D.  Jones,  Wm.  H.  Stiles. 

Lebanon:  Harris  House^y  Kelly  &  Ballard. 

Lexington:  {L.  B.  C,  May  15,  '80), 
Frank  P.  Scearce.* 

Louisville:  {FaUs  City  B.  C,  Feb.,  *8i), 
P.R.  Betti8on,(3L),B,    Hugo  Helbum,t  L, 
A.  S.  Dietzman,  S-T,  (ls), 
C.  F.  Johnston,  Ls,(P,S),  C. 
The  last-named  belongs  to  the  Lonisville 

W.  C.  (org.  1884),  and  perhaps  some  of  the 

following  do  also,  as  some  were  members  of 

the  Kentucky  B.  C.  (org.    1881),  which  dis- 
banded early  in  '85: 
Horace  Beddo,  *lr,  Onrille  W.  Lawson, 
Newton  G.Crawfmd,  Arthur  L. Thompson, 
H.  B.  Gunther,  Harry  Verhoeff, 

Stanleys.  Haber,*(iL),  John  M.  Verhoeff, 
Chas.  H.  Jenkinr,  (Mm)  MattieVerfaoeff. 


784 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Newport:  C.  P.  Buchanan,  jr. 
OwenBtx>ro:  John  T.  Higdon,  jr.,  uc 
PadncAh:  John  R.  Scales. 
Princeton:  John  M.  Verhoeff  (LouUville). 

OHIO. 

Akron:  {Akron  Whetlnun^  Miy  15-,  '8a), 
Sumner  Houst,  G.  C.  McNeil, 

C.  E.  Caskey,  lc,      WUl.  T.  Sawyer. 

Aihland:  F.  W.  Mi]ler,Lc. 

Ayondale:  {A  .B. C),  C.  A.  Stevens, P,(Cin.). 

Belleville:  Lynn  A.  LeFevre,  B.  O.  Squier.t 

Berea:  Dayton  C.  Miller,  lc. 

Bneyms:  C.  J.  Scroggs. 

Canton:  (C.  B.  C),  St.  Cloud  Hotel, 
E.  Bamet,  n,  F.  C.  Meyer,  uc,  VP, 

Wade  Chance,  Jos.  A.  Meyer,  jr.,L, 

C.  S.  Cock,S-T,(Lc),  E.  E.  MiUer, 
J.  W.  Han»ter,tN,    Will  G.  Saxton. 

Cindnnarti:  (C.  B.  C,  Sept.  2,  '80), 
A.  A.  Bennett,  *P,  166  Main  st., 
H.  N.  Kitchell,  (S),  345  Race  st, 

E.  F.  Landy,  iL,  208  W.  4th  St., 

H.  S.  Livingston,(LCC,C),  443  W-  7th  sL, 
W.  G.  Miles,  244  Clark  St., 
J.  R.  Pigman,  2L, 

F.  L.  Sargent,  90  W.  3d  St., 

J.  H.  Watters,  Queen  City  Nat.  Bank. 

Ctueimtaii  U^anderers^Qvaat  9,'82),  Madison 
Road,  E.  Walnut  Hills, 
Chas.A.Stevens,P,BigeIow  st.,Mt.  Auburn. 

Brighton  B.  C,  (Nov.i5,'8a),7oMcLeanav., 
Wm.  Bahman,(S),  264  Findlay  St., 
John  Barclay,C,  269  Vine  st, 
H.  Kessler  Smith,(T),  168  York  st 

The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Chas.  W.A]len,jr.,s.w.cor.Main  and  5th  sis., 
Warner  E.  Galway,  125  W.  Seventh  st 

CleTeland:(C.2?.  C.  ,Sept, '79,927  Euclid  av.), 
T.  S.  Beckwith,  (iL),  974  Eudidav., 
Fred.  S.  Borton,  (S),  743  Eudidav., 
F.  W.  Bowler,  208  Superior  st, 
Sterling  Brewer,  14  Champlain  st, 
Geo.  Collister, 

J.  H.  Collister,  147  Ontario  St., 
John  Q.  De  Klyn,  41  Eudid  av., 
W.  R.  Dunbar,  2530  Sawyer  st, 
Alfred  Ely,  jr.,  lr,  tcc,  S,  873  Prospect  st, 
S.  H.  Freeman, 

Harry  Glidden,  Weddell  House, 
A.  S.  Hathaway,  2578  Broadway, 
J.  T.  Huntington,  106  Summit  st, 
John  C.  Nicholson,  ai  Standard  Block, 


C.  W.  Norman,  (S),  68  Root  st, 

H.  R.  Payne,  (C),  P,  21  Standard  Bksck. 

C.  H.  Potter,  (B),  tcc,  99  Superior  st, 

A.  C.  Rogers,  2L,  21  Standard  Block. 
Fred  P.  Root,  (iL),  C,  579  Prospect  at., 
Fred  T.  Sholes,  (C,lCS), 

Frank  B.  Stedman,  (P),  323  Cedar  av., 
E.  L.  Strong,  Euclid  av., 

B.  F.  Wade,  17  Cheshire  St., 

J.  H.  Wade,  jr.,  986  Eudid  av., 
U.  G.  Walker,  2586  Broadway. 

Cleveland  r.C.,(Mar.23,'8s),io3aWtlIaon  av., 
H.  T.  Collins,  iioo  Willson  av., 
J.  H.  Collister,  S-T,  147  Ontario  st, 
G.  T.  DowIing,t  965  Eudid  av., 
E.  P.  Hunt,  425  Woodland  av., 
R.  E.  Macduff,t  1252  Slater  av., 
Chas.  H.  Penfield,  66  Ontario  St., 
Chas.  H.  Potter,  C,  tcc,  99  Superior  st, 
W.  C.  Rudd,  L,  33  Cheshire  St., 
Henry  D.  Sizer,  P,  1032  Willson  av.  | 

The  following  are  not  dub  members: 
N.  C.  Bosworth,  Eudid  av.,  | 

J.  S.  Cary,  655  Eudid  av., 
E.  C.  Henderson,  o,  2z  Standard  Bk>ck, 
W.  P.  Horton,  jr.,  177  Euclid  av., 
W.  F.  Knapp,  959  Woodland  st, 
Henry  G.  Phelps,  145  Ontario  St., 

C.  S.  Pomeroy,t  961  Prospect  St., 
Samuel  A.  Raymond,  i  Cushing  Block, 
Robert  Ruck,  19s  Superior  st, 

J.  Edwards  Smith,ir  33  Eudid  av., 
J.  W.  Van  Doom,  1348  Willaon  av., 
N.  J.  Worley,  21  Sundard  Bbck. 

College  Hill:  (^.  C),  W.  H.  Aiken,  lc 

Colnxnlme:  (Buckeye  B.  C,  Oct.  21,  '80), 
C.  J.  Krag,  (S),  Jos.  McCune,  (C), 

Henry  Lindenbui<g,    Ward  B.  Periey,  (S) 
W.  H.  Miller,  P,  lr,  (lP,  lVP), 

Dayton:  (Z>.  B.  C,  1881),  A.W.  Gump,«*S. 
Geo.  C.  Pylc,  Sidney  A.  Reeve. 

Defiance:  CroOy  House,  byWm.  Kirtley,jr.. 
Charles  E.  SIocum.ir 

Delaware:  {Rovers  C,  C,  Aug.  ao,  '83), 
J.  Ellsworth  Williams,  (C). 

Denniaon:  Maurice  Moody,  lr. 

Blyria:  {£.  B.  C,  Sept., '83),  BeeSe  House,  • 

Findlay:  J.  H.  Boger,  lr. 

Foetoria:  (F.  B.  T.  C,  May  18,  '8a), 
W.  G.  Ledry,  H.  E.  Mickey,  (S,  \ 

A.E.Mergenthaler,LC,  C.E.Schau{elbei:ge 

Chunbier:  Kenyon  College  Library, 
Geo.  C.  S.  Southworth,  to. 


786 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Fort  Wayne:  {Ft.  Wayne  B.Ct  Apr.  9, '84), 
Stephen  D.Bond,L,         H.  J.  Meyer, 
C.W.Edgarton,»C.VP,    G.  W.  Morris, 
John  M.  Kuhns,  Louis  Ohnlious, 

F.  S.  Lightfoot,  G.  A.  Ross.lT  P, 

Chas.  J.  McLain,  S,       T.  F.  Thieme. 

Qreesflburg:  W.  H.  Wooden^lTLC 

Himtington:  Ed.  A.  Price,  lc.  , 

IndianapoUi:  (/.  B.  C,  Sept.  24,  '84), 
Baits  HoHse^  by  Louis  Reifold, 
HoUl  English^  L,  by  H.  H.  Jackson, 
Wm.  E.  Bryce,  S-T,  13  E.  South  St., 
Wm.  H.  Daggett,  xoo  S.  Meridian  st., 
Gus.  Davore,  320  E.  Vermont  St., 
Joseph  L.  Johnson,  24  Kentucky  av., 
Wm.  McWorkman,  35  S.  Alabama  St., 
C.  Plumb,  (S-T),  LC,  18  N.  Meridian  St., 
A.  L.  Roache,  Ind.  Bridge  Works, 
W.  H.  Sanders,  14s  N.  Mississippi  st., 
C.  F.  Smith,**  C,  59  S.  Illinob  St., 
Wm.  Wiegel,  10  W.  Louisiana  st, 
Wm.  F.  Wocher,  179  E.  Sjt.  Mary's  St., 
Joshua  Zimmerman,  (S),  39  S*.  Alabama  st. 

XrvixigtOll:  LUrary  of  Butter  Unxveniiy, 

Kokomo:  W.  B.  Manning,  lc 

La  Fayette:  (Z.,  B.  C.  '79),  ^r  Lewis,  (S). 

Logansport:  Sam  Patterson. 

Madison:  W.G.Heberhart,  J.  R.  Matthews. 

New  Castle:  Oscar  E.  Evans, 
J.  R,  Hickman,  D.  W.  Kerr. 

NoblesvUle:  (.V.  B,  C,  March  11,  '85), 
W.  E.  Dunn,  lc,     L.M.Wainwright,*LCC 

Orange:  Will  A.  George,  Riley  Hunt 

Plymouth:  R.  B.  Oglesbee,  o. 

Biehmond:  C  F.  Wright 

Soshville:  iRusk  Cp.  irYm),  A.R  Innn.LC 

Baasiaville:  Sam.  P.  HoUingswortb,  uc 

ShelliyTiUe:  £.  O.  Wmterrowd.* 

Tsire  Kante:  {T.  H.  B.  C.\  J.  F.  Probst, 

Probst  &  Fisbeck,**  23-35  S.  Fourth  st 

ILLINOIS. 

Ashmmre:  WIT.  Rofse.** 

ADOnu  KA.ir^rm,  May,*S4>,  Heiel Evams, 
DaTid  A.  Beidea,  H.  B.  Stippick. 

G-0.aaytoa,«vS-T>,         Fred.  Svanhout, 
E.A.Fit^efaId,-.0,S-T,  G.LTuttleX.VP, 
Edvaid  Frazier,  P,  Harrie  Voon^, 

au&  GrsvcCd,  K.  H.  Wood,  x. 

Chaiies  E.  FnlhO. 
^A  B.  C^iK 
CkK.  Dodee,  C,         J.  If.  FaStoo,  |P, 
W.ESs  Dmmj^CXB,  W.  J.  Sfatcre,  tx, 
Fca,  F.  D.  b.  WaiBcr. 


Braceville:  John  J.  Young. 

Canton:  T.  C.  Higbir,  Leon  B.  Mesdei. 

Carmi:  (C  B.  C),  John  F.  Eraser. 

Champaign:  F.  D.  Levering. 

Charleston:  J.  W.  Dikol. 

Chicago:  (C.  B.  C,  Sept  i,  ♦79), 

Chicago  Bicycle  Chtb^  189  Michigan  vr., 
Burley  B.  Ayers,  54  Clark  st, 
J.  O.  Blake,  P,  lcc,  68-70  Wabash  av., 
L.  W.  Conkling,  S,  Tcc,  108  Madison  st, 
H.  F.  Fuller,!  470  N.  State  st, 
John  R.  W.  Sargent,  C,  1720  Ind.  aT., 
Edward  F.  Sharp,  (S),  iL,  1243 Wabash  *▼•. 
Harrie  T.  Slafer,  5836  Division  st, 
David  M.  Stevens,  477  W.  Madison  sL, 
Wm.  C.  Thome,  S-T,  227  Wabash  av., 
John  Valentine,  80  Taylor  st, 
N.  H.  Van  Sicklen,  C,  2  Adams  st. 
J.  W.  Wassail,  ao8  Dearbora  av., 
£.O.Weed,n.w.  cor.  Madison  st&  Midtav., 
F.  E.  Yates,  (VP,  lc),  84  La  Salle  st 

The  following  are  not  dub  members: 
Clarence  W.  Ballard,  124  La  SaDe  st, 
Kenneth  Brown,  289  Erie  st, 
Sam'l  Danziger,  10  N.  Jeffersoo  sL, 
Albert  Durke«,  157  Deaibom  st, 
Frank  P.  Eldredge,  Woodruff  Hold, 
Geo.  F.  Fiske,f  789  FuUerton  av., 
Henry  V.  Freeroan.^ 

GormuUy  &  Jeffery,**  222-224  N.  F\Xb  st, 
John  C  Grant,  2101  Indiana  ar., 
A.  Gruse,  133  E.  Pearson  st, 
J.  H.  Hawley.cor. Wabash  av.  &  Ailami  at, 
Clarence  Marsh,  4900  WasfaingtaB  av., 
V.  F.  Mayer,  95  Fifth  ar., 
Sam  Miles,  125  S,  Clark  st, 
W.  J.  Morgan,  (O^^in^ofice.  N.  Y-X 
Edwin  Oliver,  X22  K.  FrankSa  st. 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.,**  291  Wabeb  ar., 
Frank  B.  Richards, 
A-  G.  Spaldix^  &  Bros^,**  108 '. 
(MissV\.  Syhresler.iwoLrider, 
The  J.  WiikiDsxm  Co.,**  68-:^ 

Elgin:  {E.  B.  C.  June,  "S^V  F,  C 
Chas.E.Beniard.LC    R.  E. 
James  Ca]dwdI,VP.   H.W. 
Frank  Cair,  W.  J.  Jl 

Frank  Cro^,(SX 
Panl  Hcrfnzth, 
A.  L.  Keller, 

Genoa:  riToM^ 
C  A.  BmwB, 
H.  A.  PuuiB, 


JLCV 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


iwlcnd,      Anhur 


io  S.  Beiviit 
i:  E.  H.  Sleight,  LC 

i:  H.CDairiei,  F.R-VinTuyl.u: 
Haunt  CarmBl: 

ad,  (P)  Car™  J.  C. 


Franks. 


l:  (P.  B.  C.  JM 


n  H.  Kodi, 
Koch  B™.." 
John  S.  Misner, 
C  Kirolil  Plow 


(T.  C.  H^bK), 
W.  T.  Irwin,  P, 


Bookford:  i 

Frank  J.  Athton, 
H.  L.  Burpet,  F, 


S.  Han,  S,  tc 
Lk  L.  Like,  P, 
itn'n  Lillibcidgc- 


[:  Chas.  E.  Duryci,  lc. 
MISSOURI. 
ApplatOQ  Clt?:   HcTinin  Mcnidl. 


BoonvUle:  W^lwr 

Willian,,,  ,d.  TVi. 

Ch,is.  DtRKirt.  C 

(Jas.  W.  Weill,  L). 

K»nM«Oityi(/ir,C.»"/'-.),  C.  B.Elli>,'C, 

N«]»n  T.  Hayna 

■  L.    (F.  S.  Ray,  C). 

UUteLaMatte:  J 

u.  W.  Neill.  LC 

FlBMUltClip:  l« 

c  W.  Mainm 

8t  Joseph:  W.H. 

Qin^ron,  W,  S.  Oniood, 

Bt.  Lonii:  Th;  Mi 

™--,-«.C.(o.,.Juljr„, 

UK  on  Ihew.ol  Cardinal 

.»..bti™!nPi 

eandOlivf  sts,    ff.Wn 

«  C.  (Oct..  -Si) 

RarnbUn  B.  C.  and  ^f. 

["/■bCS,); 


R.  E.  Lee,  C, 
L.  J.  Berjer,  u,         A.  Nicholson, 
W,  M.  Brewsier.(C),  G.  C.  Otlm,  (P,  u), 
W,W.Carpcnttr,ir.  ,(S-T),  J,  S,  Rogen.LH.  P 
Darfd  Daviet.  (L),      J.  E.  Smilh, 
A.  A.  Hart,  Lm  Spencer, 


J.  K.  Tiflany.to,        F.  P.  Whetiy, 

IOWA. 
Adel:  Frank  L.  Soeele;,  lc 
Albia;  W.  R  Cramer,  lc 
BnrUnsUiii:  H.  E.  Jarvis,  Olio  Krop 
Chulton:  O.  E.  Hull. 
IMa  Uoluei:  {Abl.  B.  C.  at  la..  May 
i.  5.  tola 


.■s.). 


QrlnneU;  S.  C 


!.  Bamei.t  J.  E.  Bayer. 
B.  C.),J.  O.Baker, 
Frank  Schooley,         F,  E.  Wonh,  tc 
lom  Falli:  J.  F.  Rail,  ls. 
Jsttarson:  W.  M.  Ferguson,  ifc 
HanhaUtown:  C.  E.  C.  Boardman. 
Oikaloora:  iO.  W.  C,  Feb.,'8s\  l, 
W.  L.  Howe,; ICC),  P,C,   S.  B.Wrighi.Tce. 


II  City:  i 


in,S-T,(i.T),  C.M.V 
L.  Siet 


f,.  -85),  L 


Wlutenet:  Chai.  D.  HnweU,  (Lcc). 

WISCONSIN. 
Belolt;  ^.  B.  Clark. 
Jstferaon;  J.  C.  HoHman.l 
L>  CroBie:  [La  C.  B.  C..'S4),C.  A.  Smith,?. 
Henekanne:  N.  E.  Lindquist. 
KUwiaikaB:  {M.  B.  C.  April  19,  -Bo), 

A. A.  Hathaway, LCC,    G.  H.  Lawrence,  ti, 

Angui  S.  HibbaTd,     B.  K.  MiUer,  tcc 
Heenah:  Fmik  C.  BiBell. 
Olhkoih:  Clarence  H.  Bean,  J.  A.  Hinman. 
Sputa:  I.B.C..  Mir.  is.'Si),  E.W.  Harvey,S. 
Tomah:  chat.  A.  Calking,  H.  D.  Powen. 
WatertowD:  Herman  M.  Schroeiei. 
Tlnona:  {W.  B.  C),  John  1.  WiaioD,  S-T. 

MINNESOTA. 
ArUn^ton:  H.  W.  Beatty. 
Dlllntb:  Chas.  B.  Wnodn,::. 
Fwitault:  l,F.B.C.,l\>\y  7,'g4),E.  USawyer, 
Hendenon:  H.  W.  Blaiing. 
Howard  Lake: 

WindsBT  final,  hy  H. 
Hanball:  John  5.  Rem 
Mliui4^X>Ua:  {.Mtmry 

Gram  Bell,  E< 

Louli  D.GnTei,LC,    T. 

S.  F.  Healh,"  KX,  T. 

Ed«.  J.  Kimball,      E. 
PlpBMaD«Clt]r:G.E.Hi 
Preaton:  Edie  Taylor. 
St.  Cloud:  (St.  C.  a.  C. 

Griuid  CtHtnd  Httil.l 


788 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


St.  Paul:  E.  H.  Reimbold,  670  De  Soto  at. 
Wadena:  H.  B.  Hamlin. 
Winona:  L.  W.  Worthington. 

DAKOTA. 

Grand  Forks:  {Dakota  B.  C,  May  i3.'8a), 
Griggs  HouMe^  by  F.  W.  Boardman, 
G.  A.  Batchelder,  C,  Joe  £.  Uifford,  S-X. 

OJata:  Leonard  Beach. 

Wahpeton:  F.  O.  Mack. 

NEBRASKA. 

Omaha:  (a  ^.  C,  Mar.  19,  '81), 

C.  M.  Woodhian,  S-T. 
Santee  Agency:  Samuel  H.  Seocombe. 

KANSAS. 

Zhilanoy:  Robert  D.  Garrett 

Emporia:  {E.  B.  C,  1882), 
Livy  Jay  Buck,  W.  R.  Irwin,*  P. 

Fort  LeaYonworth: 

rk»  Post  Library t     John  J.  Fttzpatrick, 
Chas.  C.  Candy,         Joseph  W.  Krank, 
William  E.  Dalton,     M.  J.  Norton. 

Gamett:  George  L.  Robinson. 

Harper:  Frank  R.  Zachariaa. 

Haileton:  W.  M.  FuUon,  <  lc),  S.  E.  Pool. 

Howard:  Thos.  P.  Campbell. 

JnnotUm  City:  Chas.  S.  Davis. 

lAwrenee:  (Z,.  AC.,Dec.,'8a)J.M.Robbfa». 

OtwegO:  Sam*l  Carpenter,  jr. 

Ottawa:  Clarence  N.  Brown. 

St.  Mary*!:  S.  T.  Hathaway. 

Topeka:  D.  J.  Hathaway. 

Wichita:  E.  E.  Lind^muth. 

NEW  MEXICO. 
Pinof  Altof:  V.  C.  Place  (Greensboig,  Pa.)L 

COLORADO. 

Colorado  Springs: 

L.  R.  Ehn'ch,  o,  ar^  N.  Nevada  av. 
Denyer:  {Colorado  W.  C,  Sept.  a6,  '83), 

F.  J.  Chamard,  A.  A.  Howe, 

G.  E.  Hannon,  (Q,    Lewis  C.  Rice,  (S), 

E.  K.  Hovford,  S.       Lyie  Waterbury. 
J<ake  City:  C.  F.  McKenney. 
X«eadTille:  Geo.  E.  Bittinger,  toc. 

WYOMING. 

Chsyenne:  <C.  B.  C,  Nov.  s,  'Sa), 
JnUr  Octan  Hotels  by  John  Chase, 

F.  H.  Clark,  S,  lcc,    F.  S.  Hebard,*  P, 
W.  S.  Cowhick,         H.  B.  Rwe,  C 


Taramie  City:  {L,  B.  C,  Aug.  a6,  '8a). 
C  S.  Greeubaum,  juc,  (fboinas  Stevens)^ 
W.  O.  Owen,  ui,         H.  A.  Wagner. 

Bock  Springs:  Chas.  P.  Wassung,  tcc 

MONTANA. 
Boieman:  J.  W.  Besserer,F.  A.Fi^ng,*ix& 
Butte:  Ash  Pierce. 

Helena:  {H.  B.  C),  Herbert  E.  Judge, 
Wiil  E.  Norm,*  S,    T.  H.  Sharpe,  >•.,  C 

IDAHO. 

Boise  City: 
Overland  Hottlt  by  Eastman  Brothers. 

Hailey:  {Wood  River  B.  C,  Fi:b.,'86).  L^ 
tiaUey  Hotels  by  Don  McKay, 
MerckoMts'  HoUl,      P.  A.  Reagan, 
H.  Z.  Burkhart,  •       Norman  M.  Ruick, 
E.  C.  Coffin,  LCC,  C,  Chas.  J.  Sclwyn,VP^ 
Scott  Keiper,  Fred  B.  Tinker, 

J.  A.  McCloud,  John  J.  Tracy, 

LylUeton  Price,  S-T,  Wm.  H.  Walt,  P. 

WASHlNOrON. 
Ooldendale:  Will  J.  Story. 
New  Tacoma:  J.  J.  Siergus.^ 
Seattle:  Chas.  H.  Kittinger. 

OREGON. 

Amity:  A.  Grant  Smith. 

Astoria:  W.  E.  Warren. 

E.  Portland:  H.  M.  Cormick,  C  H.  Hobatt 

Bugene  City:  .Sterling  HilL 

MoMinnTille:  E.  W.  Fuller. 

Monmonth:  Kurt  G.  Lucas,  IjOC 

Portland:  {Oregon  B,  C,  Nov.  17,  'SjX 
HoltoH  Honsot  by  David  Ho!ton, 
Chas.  S.  Boyce,        Edw.  H.  Miller, 
George  Breck,  P,      W.  E.  Mitchell, 
Wm.  C.  H.  Burklin,  C.  C.  Newcast)e,S-T» 
(H.  M.  Cormick),     H.  C.  NickerBon,(P), 
W.  H.  Cushman,      T.  J.  O'Connor, 
H.  L.  Hatch,  W.H.Piirtridge,sub.C, 

J.  C.  Hol]i«ter.»       G.  W.  Scott,  B, 
Lawrence  Knapp,     E.  T.  Staley, 
FredT.  Merrin,*C.  (W.  E.  Warren). 

Salem:  {Chemeketa  B.  C,  Nov.  27,  '84), 
Chas.  M.  Cox,  L,       T.  Howard, 
H.  L.  Hatch,  C,        W.  W.  Martin,  P. 

UTAH. 

Ogden:  5>eth  J.  Griffin. 

Salt  Lake  City:  Sidt  Lakt  B.  C,  May,*8i)» 
Barnes  &  Davis,**     W.  Jennings,  S-T, 
D.  L.  Davis,  lgc,  C,  C.  E.  JohnsoD, 
J.  Jaques,  Gea  J.  Taylor»  P. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN, 


789 


ARIZONA. 
Toeson:  F.  W.  Gregg. 

CALIFORNIA. 

Lob  Angeles:  {CtntoMr  B,  C,  1S83), 

Nathan  White,  C.      G.  A.  Von  Brandis,  S. 

ITew  Almaden:  E.  R.  Abadie. 

Oakland:  (O.  B.  C,  Aug.,  '80), 
J.  D.  Aekiaon,  T.  S.  Hardy. 

Fetaluma:  A.  H.  Cowen. 

Riverside:  P.  L.  Abel. 

Ban  Francisco:  The  S.  F.  B.  C.  (Nov.  38, 
'78)  is  one  of  the  very  oldest,  and  its  ab- 
sorption of  the  California  C.  C,  in  Jan., 
*86,  will  doubtless  give  it  increased  pros- 
perity. The  Bay  City  H^Tm  (Sept.,  '84) 
boasts  a  membership  of  nearly  xoo,  and 
supports  the  League.  The  Golden  City 
B.  C.  (Nov.  30,  '84)  was  organized  by 


professional  racers.     See  pp.  489-494. 
Subscribers  from    all    these  clubs,  and 
from  the  unattached,  are  arranged  below: 
B.  S.  Benjamin,  518  Van  Ness  av., 
Milton  Berolzhime,  7  and  8  Battery  St., 
Chas.  Biederman,  (C),  818  Sutter  st, 
Melville  A.  Bley,  905  Ellis  St., 
S.  F.  Booth,  (VP),  S,  51a  Shotwell  St.. 
Fred  R.  Cook,  C,  415  Market  St., 
Frank  D.  Elwell,  316  California  St., 
Munro  Falkenstein,  300  Battery  st, 
H.  C.  Finkler,  (C,  P),  121  Post  st., 
Thos.  L.  Hill,  IP,  146  Eddy  St., 
W.  M.  Meeker,  813  sist  st., 
E.  Rideout,  804  Filbert  st. 

San  Jose':  {Garden  City  B.  C,  Aug.  io,'84), 
Lloyd  Moultrie,  L. 

San  Louis  Obispo:  C.  G.  Hinds. 

Woodland:  Frank  Diets. 


DOMINION  OF  CANADA. 


ONTARIO. 

BelleviUe:  {RanMers  W.  C), 
W.  R.  Carmichal,       W.  Holden, 
W.  R.  Gaterin,  S.G.  Retallack,(C),N, 

S.  T.  Greene,  VP,      E.  W.  Sibbald,t 
W.  L.  Hogg,  J.  W.  Snyder. 

Brighton:  R.  J.  Bowles,  wr,  wc 

Fairfield:  Henry  £.  Ridley. 

Fort  William:  James  McLaren. 

Ooderich:  (G.  B.  C,  Apr., '83),  S.  M.  Lloyd. 

Hamilton:  {ff.  B.  C,  Aug.  33,  '81), 
A.  T.  Duncan,  B,  J.  A.  Robinson, 

Joe  H.GitcheII,(S-T),2L,  R.  H.  Skinner, 
W.  J.  Turner,  n.  Mountain  Top. 

Kincardine: 

F.  E.  Coombe,  wc,     H.  A.  Mcintosh. 
Kingston:  {K.  B  .C,  Aug.,  '83), 

Windsor  Hotel,  by  Martin  O'Brien, 

W.  H.  Coy,  S-T. 
La  Chute  ICiUS:  J.  E.  Ireland. 
London:    Ariel  Touring  Club.,  w,  (Aug.  9, 
*83),  Albion  Block, 

W.W.  Begg,(S),wc,    James  Lamb,  aL, 

G.  D.  Cameron,  (P),  Geo.  P.  Lilley,  iL, 
W.  H.  Cooper,  John  McCarthy, 

J.  L.  Fitzgerald,         Chas.  E.  Mount)oy,B, 
Geo.  Forsythe,  J.  A.  Muirhead. 

{Forest City  B.  C. , w,Oct.  ,*83 , Victoria  B*ld»gs), 
A.  N.  Chisholm,  aL,  William  Payne,* 
W.  K.  Evans,  wc,      W.  E.  Saunders. 

Newmarket:  J.  E.  Hughes. 


Ottawa:  {O.  B.  C,  Aug.  4*  'Sa)*  w, 

F.  M.S.  Jenkins,C,wc,S.  M.  Roger8,(aL),  iL. 

G.  A.  Mothersill,  (P),  wcc. 
Port  Arthur:  C.  W.  Jarvis. 
Fort  Elgin:  {P.  E.  B.  C),  w, 

Samuel  Roether,  S-T,  wr. 

St.  Mary's:  {St.  M.  B.  C),  w, 
C.  S.  Rumsey,  C,  wc. 

St.  Thomas:  (5"/.  T.  B.  C,  Aug.  14,  '82),  w, 
Jas.  S.  Brierley,  (wcc),wP,    Wm.  Reeser, 
C.H.  Hepinstall,C,wc,WK,    J.  J.  Teetzel.| 
Fred  L.  Howell, 

Simcoe:  (S.  B.  C,  Sept.  8,  '8a>,  w, 
Geo.  R.  Cook,  F,       O.  M.  Jones, 
A.  W.  Donly,  L,        W.  S.  Perry,  P,  wc, 
Hal.B.Donly,w,S-T,  D.R.Tisdale,S-T,wiL 

Thorold:  John  Dobbie,*WR. 

Toronto:  ( T.B.C.,  Apr.  13, '81 ;  Adelaide  st.), 
A.  E.  Blogg,  S,  Chas.  Langley,(iL), 

Fred  J. Brimcr,iL,    R. H. McBride,(C,wP), 
N.R.Butcher,(S),      Harry  Ryrie,  (aL),WR, 
P.E.Doolitlle,(wVP),      Fred  J.  Spariing, 
W.  G.  Eakins,  C.  A.  Tubby, 

A.  G.  Fraser,  Robert  Tyson, 

C.E.Lailey,(T,VP.WR),A..F.Webster,(C),P 
G.  H.  Orr,  iL,  (Wanderers  B.  C.,Oct.,'82). 

Whithy:  C.  G.  K.  Nourse. 

Woodstock:  (W.  B.  C),  Harry  Biette,3L, 
Henry  Davidson,        S.  L.  McKay, 
J.  G.  Hay,  C,  W.  H.  Merritt, 

W.A.Kam,tL,wcc,    Jas.  S.  Parmenter. 


790 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


MANITOBA. 
Winnipeg:  {W.  B.  C.\ 
W.  H.  Noune,  (Buffalo,  N.  Y.). 

QUEBEC. 

Montreal:  {M.  B.  C,  Dec  a,  '78;  rooms, 
Burnside  Place),      J.  W.  Davis, 
A.T.Lanc,»WR,J.D.Maicr,(S-T,VP),B,WE 
Chas.  Lyman,  o,     H.S.Tibb8,(P,wP,LCC>. 

NEW  BRUNSWICK. 

Saokrille:  A.  E.  Cogswell. 

St  John:  {St.  J.  B.  C).  J-  M.  Barnes, 
Charles  Coster,  aL,    Chas.  W.  McKee, 
W.  £.  Graham,  Geo.  W.  Robertson. 

NOVA  SCOTIA. 

Amherst:  A.  C.  Casey, 
T.  Hodgson,*  Arthur  D.  Sharp. 

Annapolis: 
Dominion  HoUl^  by  A.  H.  Riordan, 
W.  M.  De  Blois,tTC,    Louis  A.  McKenna. 

Antigonish:  W.  H.  Buchanan,  pub. i4«r«r». 

Halifax:  Halifax  Hotel,  by  H.  Hesslien, 
(Geo.  H.  Bayne),        A.  W.  Cogswell, 
ri.  n.  Bell,  IV.  Crowe, 

Wm.  M.  Bhck,  L.  I.  FuUer, 

J.  A.  Qark,  J.  J.  Hamm, 


J.  W.  Heckman,        O-  B.  Pattillo), 

F.  D.  Hillis,  J.  Wiseman  Stairs, 

G.  W.  Kent,t  Heioert  Temple, 
A.  J.  King,  W.  L.  Temple. 
Philip  H.  McGnire, 

Tmro:  (7*.  B.  C), 
G.  H.  Blair,  S-T,        Wm.  J.  Murray, 
S.  W.  Cumraings,       T.  S.  Pattillo,  C, 
Arch.  McCuUoch,       T.  M.  Pattoo, 
Alf.  E.  McKenzie,      WilL  H.  Rennie,  L. 

Westyllle:  D.  R.  Campbell. 

Weymouth:  Forhes  Jones's  HoUl^C  BuiriU. 

Windsor:   Victoria  Hotel,  by  T.  Doran, 
J.  Fred  Carvei,  C.  H.  Dimock. 

Yarmouth:  Arthur  W.  Eakins. 

BERMUDA. 

Hamilton:  HamiUon  HoUl,  by  W.  Aika* 
F.  Lennock  Godet. 

St.  George's: 
St.  George's  HoUl,  by  N.  Escobel, 
Ghbe  HoUl,  by  A.  J.  Richardson. 

Smith's:  Geoige  Tucker. t 

MEXICO. 

City  of  Mexico:  {El  Cbib  Nadomel  VeUci- 
pediOa,  1883), 
W.  S.  Locke,**  I^  Cinco  de  Mayo  No.  4- 


EUROPE,  ASIA  AND   AUSTRALIA. 


ENGLAND. 
Ashford  {Kent  C.  C.)\  H.  J.  Johnson,  C 
Bath:  James  Moi^gan,  26  Union  st. 
Beeston:  Humber  &  Co.** 
Birmingham: 

John  Lauterbach,  338  New  John  St.,  w., 

Arthur  J.  Leeson,  Florence  Villa,  Albert 
rd.,  Aston,  sec.  Birckfioid  B.  C, 

W.  J.  Spurrier,  3  Queengood  rd.,  Moseley. 
Bradford:  Day  &  Raisbeck  **  i  E.  Parade, 

A.  Famell,  51  Cross  Lane,  Great  Horton. 
Frisinghall:  G.  H.  Rushworth. 
Bristol:  Fred  W.  Brock,  Belle  Vue  House. 
Bromley  {Kenl):  Cameron  Swan,  Lauriston. 
Bury:  John  Dewhurst,  ax  Market  st 
Bury  St.  Edmunds:  C.  H.  Nunn. 
Cambridge:  A.  B.  M.  Whatton,  C.  U.  B.  C. 
Cardiff:  Henry  Wame  Flint,  36  Park  PI., 

Herbert  White  Flint,  St.  John's  Square. 
Camavon  {H.  IVales):  R.  Gwen,  St.  David's 
Catford  Hill  {Keuf)-.  [id. 

Cliarles  P.  Sisley,  15  Exbury  rd. 


Cirencester:  Geo.  Wm.  Gobey,  73  Castle  sL 
Coventry:  (C.  C.  C),  S.  Gokler,  65  Butts, 

Griffiths  &  Co.,**  Priory  Mill, 

Henry  Sturmey,  la  Smithford  at.,ed.Cjfclisi. 
Croydon:  H.R.Hart,Beachley,Chichester  rd. 
Derby  {DerbysJure):  Ben  Hinchdifie. 
Diss:  Edward  G.  Abbott,  Mere  st. 
Doncaster:  F.  W.  WiUbum,  Linden  View. 
Ealing:  F.  Fry,  Wyvenhoe,  CasUe  Bar  HUl. 
Eastbourne  {Sussea); 

L.  Adams,  Brooklyn  House,  capt  f .  B.  C, 

T.  Knight,  36  Terminus  id., 

S.  Saker,  35  Terminus  id. 
Enfield  (JlfAiUS^tfx): 

Sidney  Chester  Fox  Bush  HUi  Piuk. 
GateshJead-on-Tyne: 

James  Buchanan,  jr.,  a  Osborne  Terrace, 

Robert  Affleck.  10  Osborne  Terrace. 
Hatfield  {Herts)-.  John  Joseph  Hayes. 
Havant:  H.  Martin  Green,  Southlnt>ok. 
High  Wycombe  {Bucks)-. 

B.  Watson  Soper  (Lond water). 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN, 


791 


KMWick: 

A.  W.  Ruroney,  tcc,  (ex-aec  C  U.  B.  C). 
Leeds:  J.  ArdiU  &  Co.,**  St.  Geoige's  W'ks. 
Leytonatone:  W.  W.  Wilson. 
lilverpool:  A.  Alexander,  The  Gymnasium, 
John  Gabriel,  a  Priory  rd.,  Everton, 
Jas.  E.  Grant,  5  Parkfield  rd., 
W.  J.  Hughes,  123  Whitefield  rd., 
J.  E.  Owens,  69  Sowther  st  (Crown  St.), 
bugler  of  Sefion  and  DingU  C.  C.  ; 
hon.  sec.  and  treas.  of   Liverpool  Cy- 
cle Buglers^  Club^ 
Jas.  A.  Sinclair,  55  Whitechapel. 
Uandyisnl  (.S*.  IVaUs)-.  David  J.  Evans. 
London:  Library  of  the  British  Museum^ 
Joseph  Badcock,  270  Victoria  Park  rd.,  e., 
Chas.  E.  Bawn,  418  Old  Ford  rd.,  e., 
G.  W.Bennett,7i  St-PeteHs  st.,MiIe  End,e., 
A.  M.  Bolton,  Penge  Lane,  Sydenham,  n., 
C.  W.  Brown,  2  Oak  Villas,  Feyem  Park, 
W.  E.  Clay,  66Turnpike  Lane,  Homsey,  n. 
G.  Pembroke  Coleman,  Craig's  ct.,  Charing 
Cross,  ex-official  handicapper  N.  C.  U., 
W.  F.  Collier,  47  Weedington  rd.,  n.  w. 
Charles  Cordingly,  pres.  IV.  Kensington  T. 
C,  and  pub.  Tricycling  Journal^  The 
Grove,  Hammersmith,  w.,  also  6  Marl- 
borough rd.,  Bedford  Park,  w., 
Edward  Danell,  22  Barbican,  e.  c, 
Henry  C.  Dewell,  21  Arlington  sq.,  Isling- 
ton, n.,  hon.  sec.  N.  London  Harriers ^ 
C.   E.  Doyle,   14  Osbaldeston    rd..  Stoke 

Newington, 
William  Dutton,  Penrhyn  Lodge,  Amesland 

rd.,  Wandsworth, 
Harry  Etherington,  publisher  of  WheeUmgt 

152  Fleet  St.,  e.  c, 
C.  J.  Fox,  ed.  Cycling  Times^  East  Temple 

Chambers,  Whitefriars  St.,  e.  c, 
G.Goodall,!  Everingrd.,  Stoke  Newington, 
H.  R.  Hart,  Chichester  rd.,  Croydon, 
Alfred  Hayes,  1x4  Maiden  rd.,  n.  w.,  capt 

Haver sioch  B.  C, 
Harry  Hayes,  97  Pemberton  rd.,  Kilbum 

Rise,  n.  w., 
Herbert  Hayes  and  William  Hayes,  a  Whit- 
tington  Terrace,  Highgate  Hill,  n.  w., 
Fred.  W.  Haynes,  122  Albany  st ,  Regent's 

Park,  hon.  sec.  Swallows  C.  C, 
W.  Honeybum,  jr.,  204  Uxbridge  rd.,  Shep- 
ard's  Bush,  w., 

Mortimer  E.  O.  James,  19  St  Swithin*s 
Lane,  e.  c, 


H.  Johnson,  10  Harvest  id.,  HoUoway,  n., 
Edw.  J.  Jones,  116  Stoke  Newington  rd.,n., 
Harry  John  Jones,  19  Gillies  st.,  Kentish 

Town,  n.  w.,  {Haverstock,  B.  C), 
H.  A.  Judd,  ed.  W^heel  World,  98  Fleet  St., 
Thos.  Geo.  King,  i  Lancaster  rd.,  Upper 

ToUington  Park,  n.,  {Camnthtry  B.C.), 
C.  R.  Kirkpatrick,  Wandsworth  Common, 
Alex.  Wm.  Leslie-Lickley,  43  Strathblaine 

rd.,  Wandsworth  Common, 
London  Cycle   Supply  Ass'n,**  57  Queen 

Victoria  St., 
Mason  &  Payne,**  41  Comhill,  e.  c, 
W.  E.  Milner,   47   Park  rd.,   Haverstock 

Hill,  n.  w.  (BelsiMe  B.  C), 
F.  Myers,  1  Testerton  St.,  Netting  Hill,  w., 
Alfred  Nixon,(capt.  London  T.C.),  Beacon- 
dale,  Rockmont  rd.,Central  Hill,Upper 

Norwood,  s.  e., 
J.  Foxley  Norris,  iWenlock  St.,  Hoxton,  n., 
Frank  O'Connor,  108  Crofton  rd.,  s.  e., 
W.   J.  Pearce,  18  St.  John's  Wood  Ter- 
race, n.  w., 
Geo.  Philip  &  Son,**  32  Fleet  St., 
Alfred  A.  Phillips.  Hope  Cottage,  Hill  St., 

Upper  Clapton, 
Robert  E.  PhilHps,t**  70  Chancery  I^ne, 

(also  Rochelle,  Selhurst  rd.,  s.  e.), 
H.  R.  Reynolds,  jr.,t  31  Craven  St.,  w.  c, 
R.  P.  Hampton-Roberts,  170  Alexandra  rd., 

St.  John's  Wood,  s.  w., 
S.  Edgcumbe  Rogers,  Rockley,  Champion 

Park,  s.  e., 
Edward  Rourke,  13  Bow  Lane,  Cheapsidr, 
Frank   Salsbury,  80  Albert  St.,  Regent's 

Park,  n.  w., 
F.  W.  Schnauber,  Spanish  Patriots,  Whhe 

Conduit  St.,  Pentonville,  n.,  {Haver- 
stock B.  C), 
E.  R.  Shipton,  ed.  C.  T.  C.  Gtuette,  139. 

140  Fleet  St.,  e.  c, 
Sigma  Smith,  Homsey,  n.,  (River  Cottage), 
H.  Spooner,  18  Royal  av.,  Chelsea,  s.  w., 
Surrey  Machinists   Co.,**    "Invincible" 

Cycle  Works,   128-129  Gt.  Suffolk  St., 

Borough,  s.  e., 
S.  H.  Swain,  193  Charlton  rd.,  Kilbom, 
E.  Tegetmeier,  Field  office,  346  Strand, 
James  Trigwell,**  49  Boston  PI.,  Dorset 

Square,  n.  w., 

Montagu  L.Troup.St.  Stephen's  Club,  s.w,, 

Henrv  T.  Wharlow,  9  Nightingale  Villas, 
Wood  (Sreen, 


792 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


J.  S.  Whatton  and  A.  B.  M.  Whatton,  9 
Somen  PI.,  Hyde  Park  Square, 

"  Wkgeling"  Library,  '53  Fl««t  St.,  e.  c, 

A.  J.Wilson,  Powerscroft  House,  Clapton. 
LuUon,  Long  Satton:  J.  W.  M.  Brown,  tc. 
Mfci{lffnhft#fl-  Hickling  &  Co.,  39  King  st. 
Manehofter:  H.  R.  Goodwin,  6  Swan  st. 
Mlzfield  {Vorks);  John  Barker. 
Mortlake  {Surrey)'. 

Edgar  J.  Sherri£f,  tcc,  Holly  House. 
Much  Wenlock:  H.  Griffiths,  The  Laurels. 
Newcastle-on-Tsrne : 

D.  M.  M.  Dawson,  17  Warden  st. 
Newry:  J.Macknight,  a6  Barrack  st. 
Kortluunpton:G.  Hodgson  ,8  St.  Edmundsrd. 
North  Bhieldfl:  J.  R.  Hogg,  Union  st, 

Thos.  Robinson,  tcc,  36  Waterloo  PL 
Paignton:  Geo.  Soudon  Bridgeman. 
Pontypridd:  Morris  Bros.,Wm.  M.  Morris. 
Portsmouth:  F.  J.  Samson,  36  Fleet  st. 
Sedditch: 

F.  H.  Warner,  C,  tcc,  Laburnum  Villa. 
Somford  (Essex): 

Leopold  Pierson,  Stanford  River. 
St.  Heliers  (Jtrsey,  Ckantul  Idands): 

C.  Metiver,  60  King  St.,  VP,/.  B.  &»  T.  C. 
flalford:  Walter  Binns,  235  Chapel  st. 
Scarhorongh:  S.  Swinden,  70  Oxford  st 
Sheffield:  F.  Percy  Dickinson,  Farm  Bank. 
Sittingbonme:  {S.  C.  C), 

Phil.  H.  Bishop,  Station  st. 
Sonth  Kilvlngton:  H.  P.  Mason. 
Stafford:  T.  S.  Nixon,  69  Marstoa  rd. 
Stanford  Biver: 

Leopold  Pierson,  The  Wayletter. 
Sydenham:  Alfred  Bolton,  Penge  Lane. 
Wandsworth  Common  {Surrey): 

Chas.  R.   Kirkpatrick,   FemhiU,    Boling- 
broke  Grove, 

Alex.W.  LesUe-Lickley,43  Strathblaine  rd. 
Welwyn  {H*rtfordsfur«)\ 

W.  d'A.  Crofton,t  Hillside. 
Witham:  W.  H.  Moresby. 
York:  Thomas  Bouttell,  14  Feasegate, 

R.  E.  Burdekin,** 

F.  P.  Lambert,  5  St.  Qements  PL 

SCOTLAND. 
Aberdeen: 

W.  Kendall  Burnett,}  tcc,  133!  Union  st 
Dundee:  James  Ogilvie,  86  High  st 
Edinburgh:  W.Geo.OUver,9S.E.Circu8PL, 

C.  P.  C.  Roques,  jr.,  16  George  st. 
Plfe:  John  Ramsay,  Balmalcolm,  Lady  bank. 


Glasgow:  Hugh  Callan,  6  Wilton  Temoe, 
W.  T.  Logan,  72  Buchanan  st 

Greenock:  {A  maUur  B.  C), 
Robert  Allison,  43  Esplanade, 
Robert  Dixon,  Dempster  st, 
Andrew  Forrest,  Fairmount,  40  Eq>laiuule^ 
John  Forrest,  C,  Fairmount,  40  Fjplanada^ 
Robert  C.  Robertson,  68  Union  st 

IRELAND. 
Oallan:  Samuel  Potter,  Bank  of  Ireland. 
Gastlemartyr:  Wm.  Bowle8,TC,  SpringfiekL 
Dublin:  John  Rowland,  30  Westland  Row, 

J.  W.  Webster,  23  Geraldine,  Beikley  rd.» 

S.  Young,  43  Portland  Row. 
Limerick:  Colman  O'Connell,  jr. 
Tralee:  J.  G.  Hodgins,  Castle  st 

SWEDEN. 
Uddevalla:  Alban  Thorbum,  tc 

HOLLAND. 
Utrecht:  C.  H.  Bingham,  tcc,  pres.  N.V.  B. 

SWITZERLAND. 
St  Gallon:  £.  T.  Edwards,  Zur  Alten  Bank. 

FRANCE. 
Gan  pros  Pau  {Basses  Pyrenees): 

R.  Knowles,  TC 
Paris: 
A.  de  Baroncelli,  18  Rue  Roqnepine,  ed. 
"Annuaire  de  la  V^locip^e  Practique." 

ITALY. 
Milan: 

Adolpho  Schlq^l,jr.,*ViaFilodrammaticil 

GERMANY. 
Berlin:  T.  H.  S.Walker,TCc,  18  Kraosenslr., 
editor  of  Der  Retdfakrer. 

AUSTRIA  (HUNGARY). 
Budapest:  L.  D.  Kostovitx,  tc. 

RUSSIA. 
Moscow:  J.  Block,*  capt  M.  B.  C. 

TURKEY. 
Constantinople :   Chamber  of  Cotiumttt 

HoUl,  William  V.  Shelton,  (Beyl,  o. 
Angora  (Asia  Minor):  Henry  Binns,  o. 

PERSIA. 
Teheran: 

Wm.  North,  o,  Indo-European  TeL  Ca 

JAPAN. 
Kioto:  D.  W.  Leamed,to. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN, 


793 


SOUTH  AUSTRALIA. 

VorUi  Adelaide:  {N.  A.  B,  C,\ 
Albeit  £.  Thurston,  S-T,  6  Con&ell  st 

QUEENSLAND. 

Brisbane:  {Brisham  A  mateur  Cycling  CbUf^, 
Wm.  Johnson,  C,  91  Edward  st. 

NEW  SOUTH  WALES. 

Ckralbum:  Alfred  E.  Riley. 
Sydney:  {.Sydney  Bicyclt  CbtS), 

Geo.  L.  Budds,  353  Elizabeth  st, 

James  Copland,  85  Market  st, 

W.  R.  Geofige,  T, 

E.  H.  McRae,  S,  60  Wynward  Sq., 
Geori^e  Martin.f  Cleveland  st, 

James  Martin,  pres.  "  N.  S.  W.  Cyclists* 
Union,"  389  George  st, 

F.  G.  Sloper,  Oxford  st 

West  Sydney:  Jas.  F.  Rugg,  Kent  Brewery. 

VICTORIA. 

BaUarat:  {B.  B.  &>  T.  C,  1879), 
T.  MiUer,  H.  P.  Shimmin,VC, 

G.  H.  Shimmin,         R.  A.  Thompson,  C. 
HamUton:  {//.  B.  C), 

Walter  G.  FarroU,  C,  11  Gray  st, 

H.  C.  Heales,  Colonial  Bank. 
Melbourne:  {M.  B.  C,  Aug.  15,  V8)> 

W.  E.  Adams,  Lonsdale  st,  (hon.  se& 
Narmamhy  B.  C), 

H.  C.  Bagot,  VC,  100  Bourke  st,  w., 

Geo.  R.  Broadbent,  Crowle  Villa,  Fleming- 
ton  Bridge,  Hotham  Hill  (C,  B,  Eu- 
reka B.  C), 

Geo.  W.  Burston,  C,  123  Flinders  st,  e., 

E.  C.  Carter,  58  Russell  st, 

E.  Dangers,  156  Chapel  st  (Windsor),  (capt. 

Pilot  C.  C), 
Thos.  A.  Edwards,  11  Little  Collins  st,  w., 
G.  A.  Ekman,  100  Victoria  st,  w., 
Fred.  J.  Empson,  Little  Collins  st, 
George  S.  Geddes,  11  La  TroUe  st., 
W.  G.  Gilroour,  Collins  St.,  west,  (capt 

Albert  B.  C), 
W.  S.  Haxleton,  T,  Whitehall  st, 
W.  H.  Lewis,  47  Queen  st,  ed.  AtutraUan 

Cycling  News^ 

F.  Llewelyn,  60  Collins  st., 
Sandhurst:  (5*.  B.  C,  June  ai,  '80;  reor- 
ganized as  S.  C.  C,  June  la,  '84), 

W.  H.  Bradley,  Pall  Mall, 

A.  H.  Budden,  B,  Williamatoa  tt, 


John  DrisooU,  Hooeysackle  st, 

Melvin  E.  Gilbert,  Greorge  Terrace,  Bull  tt, 

H.  V.  Howell,  C,  Bank  of  Australia, 

H.  JuUien,  Charing  Cross, 

S.  Keam  &  Co.,* 

S.  Lazarus,  West  End  Hall, 

J.  H.  Luke,  Police  Station, 

G.  A.  Miller,  S,  Kent  Brewery, 

W.  J.  Parry,  (C,S),  Kenfig  Villa,  Wills  tt, 

W.  H.  Simmons,  (C),  Pall  Mall, 

D.  R.  Wilson,  Hargreaves  st, 

CHias.  Woods,  Mitchell  st., 

W.  Wother^xxm,  Barnard  st. 

The  following  16  belong  to  the  Ra$nilers 
B.  C.  (org.  Dec  ai,  '84),  and  the  final  4  to 
the  Eaglehawk  United  B.  C.  The  whole  33 
were  pledged  for  the  list  by  the  energy  of  W. 
J.  Parry,  consul  of  the  Victorian  Cyclists* 
Union,  one  of  the  earliest  enthusiasts  and  or- 
ganizers of  cycling  in  the  city,  where  he  has 
resided  since  '75.  Sandhurst  is  100  m.  dis- 
tant from  Melbourne,  the  capital,  and  has  a 
population  of  about  35,000;  though,  as  late  as 
'S3,  it  was  a  mere  camp  of  calico-tents  in  the 
wild  bush,  and  was  then  called  Bendigo  by 
the  gold-miners  who  inhabited  them.  No 
city  of  the  same  size  in  America,  excepting 
Springfield  (founded  in  1636,  and  supplying 
75  subscribers  to  this  book),  has  given  any- 
thing like  as  liberal  a  support  to  my  scheme ; 
and  no  other  incident  in  this  round-the-world 
canvass  has  seemed  so  unequivocally  to  demon- 
strate "  the  brotherhood  of  the  wheel "  as  Mr. 
Parry's  easy  pledging  of  these  many  patrons 
in  "  the  golden  dty  of  Australia."  The  Bos- 
ton B.  C— "  the  oldest  in  the  United  Sutes," 
and  one  of  the  richest  — did  not  put  up  as 
much  money  to  encourage  the  publication  of 
the  American  road-book  as  did  each  of  two 
clubs  of  this  extemporized  mining  town  at  the 
Antipodes !    (See  pp.  55^7o)- 

D.  Anderson,  Viewpoint, 

Richard  Andrews,  Golden  Square, 

R.  W.  Brown,  S,  Bull  St., 

T.  Case  Brown,  Crystal  Palace,  Pall  Mall. 

Guy  Carwardine,  Charlston  rd., 

H.  S.  Carwardine,  Charlston  rd., 

Hugh  Carwardine,  Charlston  rd., 

Robert  Dare,  Viewpoint, 

Chas.  J.  Davis,  Kangaroo  Flat, 

A.  G.  Daymond,  Viewpoint, 

C.  Hosking,  aB,  Olinda  st, 

Hutchinson  ft  Myers,  Mitdiell  St., 


794 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


J.  H.  Knight,  Myere  St., 
J.  Okey,  C,  Kangaroo  Flat, 
£.  V.  Stephens,  Kangaroo  Flat, 
W.  £.  P.  Thomas,  (C),  Bailey  St., 
A.  Cresswell,  VC,  California  Gully, 
Chas.  J.  Fly,  Barnard  St., 
J.  W.  Tonkin,  S,  Bailey  St., 
W.  Vinton,  C,  California  Gully. 

South  Tarra:  F.  Llewelyn,  37  Lang  St. 

Warmambool:  {,W,  C.  C), 

iVarmambool  Mechanics'  Inst.  Library, 

F.  W.  Briggs,  S,         A.  J.  Foote, 
D.  Ceamond,  J.  S.  Mack, 

R.  J.  Davokins,  E.  White,  C,B. 

TASMANIA. 
Hobart:  {Marmion  C.  C,  1883), 
A.  Adcock,  Hampden  rd., 
J.  Andrews,  Hill  St., 

G.  A.  Arming,  (C),  Liverpool  &  Harrington 
Chas.  Barlow,  B,  Coolley*s  Hotel,       [sts., 
Roland  A.  Bishop,*(C),  58  Elizabeth  St., 
P.  J.  Bowen,  VC,  112  Argyle  St., 
Arthur  R.  Butterfield,  S,  Elizabeth  St., 
Chas.  Davis. 

Chas.  Hallam,  Glenorchy, 
Thos.  F.  Hallam,  C,  Glenorchy, 
Chas.  Wherretl,  New  Town. 

NEW  ZEALAND. 
Auokland:  {A.  B.  C,  Nov.,  '81), 


Will  Beswick,  C. 

J.  M.  Chambers,  (S-T  iVaiitmaia  B.  C). 

J.  Fitton,  35  Grey  St., 

Service  &  Fitton,**  35  Grey  sL, 

A.  Wiseman,  L. 
ChriStohlirch:  {.Pumeer  B,  C,  April,  1879), 

F.  Cooper,  Tuam  St., 

J.  C.  Coughlan,  Bank  of  N.  Z., 

S.  F.  Dyer,  High  St., 

H.  J.  Jenkins,  Bank  of  N.  Z., 

[W.  H.  Langdown,  134  St.  Asaph  st], 

A.  Lowry,  S,  Coshel  St., 

[J.  Foxley  Norris,  336  Hereford  st.  (S,  T, 
New  Zealand  Cyclists'  Alliance).  Re- 
turned in  1885  to  London  (i  Wenlock 
St.,  Hoxton)], 

J.  W.  Painter,  Church  rd.,  St  Albans, 

A.  E.  Preece,*  sub,  C,  Cyclists*  Exchange. 
Dunedin:  {D.  C.  C,  Aug.,  '79), 

Edgar  Hine  Bum,      William  Crow. 
Oamaru:  (ATartA  Oiag^o  C.  C,  1881), 

Kenneth  Bain,  S, 

W.  L.  Butt,  Ure  St., 

L.  P.  Christeson,  Thames  st, 

F.  Cottrell,  Thames  st., 

F.  J.  Forbes,  North  School  st, 

Douglas  G.  Moore,  Union  Bank, 

H.  Snow,  C,  Borough  Engineer's  office. 
Wellington:  {IV.  CyciisU*  Au'n,  Ckt.'Si), 

David  W.  M.  Bum. 


SUPPLEMENTARY  LIST  OF  SUBSCRIBERS. 

After  the  main  list  (Chap.  39)  was  electrotyped,  the  following  300  subs,  were  enrolled, — 
three-fourths  of  them  during  the  two  months  ending  Apr.  34,  '86.  The  price  was  then  ad- 
vanced to  $1.50,  and  Nos.  3520  to  3571  were  pledged  at  that  rate,  during  the  next  six  months. 
Almost  all  the  names  up  to  No.  3500  maybe  found  in  the  geographical  directory  just  preceding- 


Abbott,  C.  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3415 

Am*erman,  W.  L,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3478 

Balderston,  O.  H.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3469 

Baltimore  Cycle  Club^  Baltimore,  Md.  3413 

Barker,  C.  L.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3515 

Barkman,  A.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3503 

Barnard,  H.  G.,  New  York.  3441 

Barnes,  J.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  3549 

Barton,  A.  J.,  Newburgh,  N.  Y.  3383 

Batchelder,  Geo.  A.,  Grand  Forks,  Dak.  3495 

Bayley,  W.  S.,  Baltimore,  Md.  341a 

Beltnont  Hotel y  Gloucester,  Mass.  3519 

Benedict,  Chas.  M.,  New  York.  3443 
Bennett,  A.  A.,  Cincinnati,  O.              3503-4 

Bingham,  F.  L.,  New  York.  3431 

Boardman,  F.  W.,  Grand  Forks,  Dak.  3496 


Bouton,  Chas.  F.,  New  York.  3457 

Boyd,  Irving  P.,  New  York.  3458 

Brown,  Clarence  N.,  Ottawa,  Kan.  3386 

Brown,  W.  B.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3416 

Bruce,  Jas.  P.,  Vicksburg,  Miss.  3490 

Burkhart,  H.  Z.,  Hailey,  Id.  3407 
ButUr  Unto.  Library ^  Irvington,  Ind.    3535 

Bjrron,  S.  H.,  New  York.  3443 

Campbell,  A.  H.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  3548 

Carley  Houu,  Schenectady,  N.  Y.  3489 

Case,  Chas.  V.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  3534 
Cataract  House,  Niagara  Falls,  N.  Y.    3497 

Center,  Robert.,  New  York.  3464 

Chalfant,  A.  B.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3376 

Cilley,  Geo.  B.,  Kingston,  N.  H.  3568 

Clemson,  Wm.,  Middletown,  N  Y.  3393 


SUPPLEMEHiTARY  US  T  OF  .HUIi.'iC/dnfiff.-;.      7^; 


./«».  ._-B:  .•E.-^  Si 


796 


TEN  THOUSAA 


BICYCLE, 


Robbins,  J.  N.,  Pittsfield,  Mass. 
Robinson  &  Co.,  C, Toronto,  Oni.  35- 
Rockwell,  F.  S.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J. 
Rttick,  Norman  N.,  Hailey,  Id. 
Ryer,  F.  A.,  New  York. 
Sackett,  C.  P.,  New  York. 
Schachtel,  jr.,  M.,  New  York. 
Schott,  W.  C,  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan 
Selwyn,  Chas.  J.,  Hailey,  Id. 
Shelton,  W.  V.,  ConsUntinople,  Turkr- 
Shcriden,  W.  H.,  Pittsfield,  Mass. 
Simpson,  Jas.,  New  York. 
Simpson,  S.  W.,  New  York. 
Slcc,  N.  T.,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Sloan,  Henry  C,  Sinclairville,  N.  Y. 
Small,  JV.  A.,  Dexter,  Me. 
Sneeden,  R.  H.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J. 
Snyder,  A.  F.,  Weissport,  Pa. 
Spalding  &  Bro.,  A.  G.,  New  York. 
Steiner,  A.,  New  York. 
Stratton,  T.  C,  New  York. 
Swartout,  A.  E.,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 
Taylor,  John  W.,  Baltimore,  Md. 

TRA' 

Copies  of  this  book  may  be  consul 
ers.  The  (•)  designates  those  who  . 
and  nearly  all  the  others  are  dealers  in 
impracticable  to  particularize  each  ma. 
exact  addresses  and  other  details  in  th' 
subscriber  will  report  to  me,  within  a  t. 
with  this  "  directory  "  as  to  regret  1. 
which  he  may  have  paid  me,  and  will 
which  he  may  mail  the  books  to  later  j 

Aaron,*  E.  M.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Aldrich,  Jas.,  Spencer,  Mass. 
Amee  Brothers,*  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Angell,  Jos.  P.,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark. 
Ardill  &  Co.,  J.,  Leeds,  Eng. 
Bardeen,*  C.  W.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.' 
Barkman,*  A.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Barnes  &  Davis,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah. 
Batchelder,*  C.  D.,  Lancaster,  N.  H. 
Beers  &  Co.,*  J.  B.,  36  Vesey  St.,  New 
Bennett,  A.  A.,  14  W.  4th  st.,  Cincinn. 
Bicycling  Worid  Co.,*|Boston,  Mass. 
Bidwell,  G.  R.,  358  W-  58th  St.,  New 
Biederman,  Chas.,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
Block,  J.,  Moscow,  Russia. 
Bradley,  Co.,*  The  Milton,  Springfield, 
Bowen,  E.  N.,  BufiEalo,  N.  Y. 
Burdekin,  R.  E.,  York,  Eng. 


isSn  C.  S.  Wady. 
ud.,  C.  W.  Edgarton. 
Y.,  Latta  Bros. 
i8S.,  J.  S.  Webber,  Jr..  pub- 
i  and  Around  Cape  Ann." 
uide,  75  c,  2nd  ed.  in  '87. 
H..  Thos.  P.  DuffilL 
1.,  W.  E.  McComas. 
licnninghofen. 
I.,  Geo.  W.  Ribble. 
icker  &  Goodman,   pnb. 
'  cference  Book,"  200  pp., 
c. ;  Weed  S.  M.  Co., 
■  bici  bicycles, 
I  E.  Norris. 

.    C.    F.   Smith,   59  S. 
\?L  Bicycle  Co.). 
B.  Ellis. 

D.  Batchelder,  pub. 

•r  log  keeping,  30  c. 

V  Co. ,'  'liquid  enamet" 

1:.  Young,  2  Brons^ 

sts'  Guide  and  Oob 

c.),taaortoCT,C 

I  dingley,  pob.  Tri. 


Ill 


TRADE  DIRECTORY. 


797 


Edgarton,  C.  W.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind. 

Edmans,  Fred  P.,  Troy,  N.  Y. 

Eliis,  C.  B.,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Etherington,*  Harry,  Loi.don,  Eng. 

Fielding,  F.  A.,  Bozeman,  Mout. 

Fortst  &»  Stream  Pub.  Co.,  New  York. 

Fox,*  C.  J.,  Loudon,  Em£. 

Gibson,*  J.  W.,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 

Gib«>n  &  Hart.  Rockford,  111. 

Gideon,  Geo.  D.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Gill,*  J.  D.,  Springfield,  Mass. 

Gillett,  M.  D.,  Springfield,  Mass. 

Gomiully  &  JefEery,  Chicago,  IlL 

Griffiths  &  Co.,  Coventry,  Eug, 

Gump,  A.  W.,  Dayton,  O. 

Hananer  &  Myers,  Covington,  Ky. 

Harder.  J.  E.,  Clearfield,  Pa. 

Hart  &  Co.,*  E.  Stanley,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Hart,  H.  B.,  8ii  Arch  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Heaih,  S.  F.,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Hebard,  F.  S.,  Cheyenne,  Wyo. 

Hill  &  Tolman,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Hodg^on,  T.,  Amher^,  A*.  S, 

Holland,*  Lincoln,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Hollister  &  Merrill,  Portland.  Or. 

Huber  &  Allison,  Louisville,  Ky. 

H umber  &  Co.,  Beeston,  Eng. 

Ideal  Pen  Co.,  155  Broadway,  New  Yoik. 

Ingram,  T.  L.,  Columbus,  .Ga. 

Irwin,  W.  R.,  Emporia,  Kan. 

Jarvis  H.,  Oxford,  Md. 

Jenkins.Fred,  322  W.  59th8t.,N.Y.(cydoin.). 

Jennings,*  A.  F.,  Springfield,  Mass. 

Johnson,  L.  H.,  East  Orange,  N.  J. 

Jodin.  J.  T.,  Newburgh.  N.  Y. 

Judd,*  H.  A.,  London,  Eng. 

Kirkpatrick,*  T.  J.,  Springfield,  O. 

Koch  Bros.,  Peoria.  III. 

Kolph,  A.  J.,  Scrantnn.  Pa. 

Lakin  &  Co.,  J.  A.,  Westfield.  Ms.  (cydom.). 

Lamson,  C.  H..  Portland,  Me. 

Lane,  A.  T.,  Montreal,  P.  Q. 

Lanier.  H.  &  F.,  West  Point.  Ga. 

Latta  Bros..  Friendship,  N.  Y. 

Leve  &  Alden,  20;  Broadway,  New  York. 

Lewis,*  W.  H.,  Melbourne, Vict.,  Auitraiia, 

Ullibridge,  Freeman.  Rockford,  (11.  (saddles). 

Locke,  W.  S. ,  City  of  Mexico,  Mex. 

London  Cycle  Supply  Ass'n,  London,  Bmg, 

McComas,  W.  E.,  Hagerstown,  Md. 

Jf alvem,  Frank,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y. 

MaM>n,  Elliott,  12  Warren  St.,  New  Yodk. 

Mason  &  Payne,*  Loudon,  Emg, 


Mudd,  Frank  X.,  Montgomery,  Ala. 

Muroford,  W.  B.,  Adrian,  Mich. 

New  York  Toy  Co.,  14  Howard  St..  N.  Y. 

Nixon,  W.  G.,  Chambersburg,  Pa. 

Normecutt  &  Co.,  J.  E.,  Pittsburg,  Pa. 

Norris,  Will  E.,  Helena,  Mont. 

Patton,  Geo.  E.,  Chatham,  N.  Y. 

Payne,  Wm.,  London,  Ont. 

Philip  &  Son,*  Geo.,  London,  Eng. 

Phillips,*  Robt.  E.,  London,  Eng. 

Pittsburg  Fire  Arms  Co.,  Pittsburg,  Pa. 

Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  IkMton  (79  Franklin  St.), 
Chicago  (291  Wabash  av.),  Hartford  (Weed 
S.  M.Co.),and  New  York  (12  Warren  stX 

Porter  &  Baker,  Bay  City,  Mich. 

Probst  &  Fisbeck,  Terre  Haute,  Ind.* 

Rayl  &  Co.,  T.  B.,  Detroit,  Mich. 

Read,  Geo.  T.,  Belfast,  Me. 

"i?#crM/iMi,"*  Publishersof,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Ribble,  Geo.  W.,  Harrisonbuig,  Va. 

Robinson  &  Co.,  Chas.,  Toronto,  OnL 

Rogers,*  J.  S.,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Rose,*  Will,  Ashmore,  111. 

Rouse  &  Son,  G.  W.,  Peoria,  IlL 

Rust,  T.  S.,  Meriden,  Ct. 

Scherer,  C.  J.,  Memphis,  Tenn. 

Schlegel,  jr.,  Adolpho,  Milan.  Itafy, 

Schwalbach,  Chas.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Service  &  Fitton,  Auckland,  N.  Z, 

Shipton,*  E.  R.,  I^ndon,  Eng. 

Smith  &  Co.,  Howard  A.,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Smith,  C.  F.,  Indianapolis,  Ind. 

Smith,  J.  C.  v.,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Smith  Mach.  Co.,  H.  B..  Smith ville,  N.  J. 

Smith,  Robt.  A.,  New  Haven,  Ct. 

Spalding  &  Bro.,  A.  G.,  Chicago  and  N.  Y. 

Springfield  Printing  Co.,*  Springfield,  MaA 

Sturmey.*  Henry,  Coventry,  Eng. 

Surrey  Machinist  Co.,  London,  Eng, 

Swartout,  A.  E.,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Terhune  &  Co..  C.  F.,  89  Liberty  St.,  N.  Y. 

Ticknor  &  Co.,*  Boston,  Mass. 

Trigwell,  Jaa.,  49  Boston  pi.,  London,  Eng, 

Wady,  C.  S.,  Fall  River.  Mass. 

Wainwright,  L.  M.,  Noblesville,  Ind. 

Walker  &  Co.,*  Geo.  H.,  Boston,  Maaa. 

Walker,*  T.  H.  S.,  Beriin,  Gtr. 

Webber,  tr.,*  J.  S.,  Gloucester,  Masa. 

Weed  S.  M.  Co.,  Hartford.  Ct. 

We8ton,*Trank  W.,  Boston,  Mass. 

Wilkinson  Co.,  The  John,  Chicago,  IIL 

Voorhees,  jr.,  G.  E.,  Morristown,  N.  J. 

Young,*  Geo.  £.,  Liverpool,  Ei^, 


J 


Kantnia],  P.  Q.,  A.  T.  Luk. 
ttoTTiatown,  N.  J.,  G.  E,  VoothHi,  jr. 
HoBcaw,  BduU,  J,  Block,  Capt,  M.  I 
HuhvUle.  Tenn.,  J.  B.  Burdeii. 
Natural  BiidsB.  Tt,  E.  N.  Bagg. 
Newark,  H.  J., 

mtiiO. 


TRADE  DIRECTORY. 

Feniand,  Or.,  Holl 


K.  H.  CoiHm, 
pub.  "Sui  Ruler'aManiiil,";; 

BooUord.  UL,  Gibun  &  Hin ;  K 
LilMbridgc  (uddlet). 

St.  LoDla.  Mo.,  J.  5.  RogFri.  j,6  0 

L.  J.  Bcrgcr,  Temple  Building. 

Lake  Cltr,  Utah,  Games  &  Da 

Vlot.,  W.  J.  Panj.Will, 

Sui  FnuicUco,  CaL,  Chai.  biidcrn 

W.  Gibson,  611  Hjde  «.,  pub.  " 

RoadBookoICal,,"  jscjjta 

Bcrantan.  Fa.,  A.  J.  Kalp. 

Slmcoe,  Ont..  H. 


lionly. 


Smithville, N.  J.,  The  H.  B.  Sn>ilh  Ma- 
cliitie  Co..  nuker!  oi  ihe  Star  l»cycle. 

Bpsncer.  Um.,  Ju,  Aldricb. 

Sprtl^eld,  HUI.,  Ameiican  Bicycle  Co. 
(Cooke  K  DunlaO:  Milmn  Bndlev 
Co.  (maps);  J,  D.  Gill  (bnolis);  A.  F. 
Jennings  (boolu) ;  Springfield  I>rillliiig 
Co.,pniileno[  W^lmt^-i  C,arllr{ti, 
H.  E.  Ducker,  monHily,  joc). 

Sprtiigfleld,0„T.J.Kirkpairicli ;  L.F.01di. 

leire  Haute.  Ind.,  Probsi  &  Fisbeck,  13.1} 

S;iaciue,  N.  T.,  C  W.  Bardeen,  pubMshir. 

TOTOnCO.  Out,  C.  Robinson  &  Co.,  II 
Chnrch  St..  cycles  and  sporling  goods. 

Troy,  N.  T..  Fred  P.  Edmani. 

WaBhlngton,  D.  C,  J.  C.  v.  Smitb,  thi« 
Peiin.  av.  ;   E.  T.  Pcliengill. 

Wollshoro,  Pa.,  F.  A.  Deans. 

WMt  Point.  Oa..  F.  &  H.  Laniet. 

Westfleld.Haw.,J.  A.  Lakin  &:Co.,i7doni, 

Worcester,  Ha.,Lincoln  Holland. 

York,  £Dg.,  R.  E.  Burdekin. 
main  offices  ol  Ihe  Pope  Mfg.  Co. :  Bolton  (79 
Hartford  (Weed  S.  M.  Co.'i  »orks)  and  Haw 
anson  Co.,  7}  Suit  St.,  Chicago,  and  oi  G.  K. 
■  ten  «ber  cities,  la  lollotn  :  Baltimore,  S.  T. 
£.  N.  Bo«n,  5SJ  Main  st.;  GlnI^lImlU,  A.  A. 
Poller,*  99  Superior  si.j  Hawark  and  Oranie, 
tito,  H.  B.  Hart,  8.r  Arch  st.;    8t.  Louis,  L.  ]. 


m  thcK 


wiihoui 


.each 

rtould  be  aent  dir« 

lytolho  Springfield 

uch  Diden  reach  mc 

nN.  v..  Ithallgeu- 

•The 

four  thus  marked  are 

not  engaged  either  In 

njto 

dp  my  sales  during  t 

efinlhilfofS,. 

XLI. 

THE  LAST  WORD. 

fHjr  rdponM  in  behalf  of  "The  Unattached,"  chanted  after  the 
fuhjon  of  The  Boatswain  in  "Pinafore,"  at  the  conclusion  of  the  first 
annual  banquet  of  the  League  o(  American  Wheelmen,  Aquidoeck  House, 
Newport,  R.  t^  Monday  evening.  May  31,  iS8a] 

For  be   himself    has  said   it, 

And  it's  greatly  to  bis  credit, 

That    he    is    a    Hi-cy-cterl 
That   he   is   a   Bi-cy-CL^K  \ 

For  he  might  have  played   at  base -ball, 

Or  at  tcn-nis,  or  at  foot -ball, 

Or   pcr-haps    at    po-lol 
Orper-haps    at  po-Iol